All That Matters (37 page)

Getting ready in the morning took Meg longer now. At first, it had been because she'd needed to tend to the brand, but now, she just spent a few minutes staring it. It still hurt to run her finger over the still red skin, but it didn't stop her from doing it.

Her days didn't involve much more than hanging around the house. If Train left the truck, sometimes she'd go to the store, if the quiet got to be too much for her. Just the other day, she'd walked to the store after she'd realized that she needed to dust in Leo's room.

He'd been gone for nearly two months. It was the first Thanksgiving or Christmas that she'd spent without her boys. She'd have liked to spend both of those days in bed, with the covers firmly over her head, but it hadn't been that easy. Train hadn't made it that easy. He'd refused to let her hole up, and they'd spent the holidays with the rest of Nightshade.

Each day that passed, Meg resigned herself further to the fact that she wasn't going to be able to get them back. The lawyer kept cashing the checks, but she wasn't managing to do anything that would actually help them. Train kept writing the checks, paying the bills. She sat on her ass and searched for jobs. Meg didn't want to think about the things he'd done, the risks he'd taken with his life, to finance the search. As horrible as it was not to have Leo and Joshua, it would be equally horrible to not have Train. Maybe it would be worse. She didn't want to think about it too much.

Meg heard her phone ring, checked the display and saw that it was Sandra. The budding friendship the two of them had been working on had cooled some. It was nothing Sandra had done, Sandra was great. It was just that hanging out with Sandra meant either hanging out with her family or talking about them. It only reminded her what she'd lost, but still, she felt like a first-class asshole as she avoided the call. She avoided a lot of calls these days and knew that it wasn't the right thing to do. The thing was, she didn't know what else to do.

Unable to face the quiet of the house, Meg grabbed her purse and coat. Train had left the keys to his truck on the hook, so she grabbed them and headed out. On the way to the grocery store, she spotted a new shop, one she hadn't seen before. Love and Lace looked like a lingerie shop, from the mannequins. She didn't remember hearing anything new was coming to town.

Curious, she pulled over to the curb. She hadn't given much thought to underthings that were anything but practical for years, until she'd met Train. He liked silk, lace and sometimes even leather against her skin. She liked it, too. In fact, she was wearing something that was mostly lace beneath her run-of-the-mill outfit now.

Inside the store smelled vaguely fruity, like there was a scented candle that she couldn't see. “Good afternoon.” The woman behind the counter spoke with a smile. She was pretty, with dark hair pulled in a ponytail. “Can I help you find something?”

“I'm just looking.” Meg hoped like hell the woman would leave it at that. Shopping for clothes wasn't a fun thing for her, and when an overeager sales clerk followed her like a puppy, it gave her serious anxiety. Thankfully, the woman remained behind the counter.

Meg found herself with an armful of items in no time. She came to her senses; she couldn't spend nearly two hundred dollars on lingerie, no matter how pretty it was. Train had given her the card for groceries and things like the cable bill.

“Need help finding other sizes, hon?” the woman called out.

“No. Thank you, but I just realized that I grabbed way too much stuff. Everything is so pretty.” Meg smiled at the woman, hoping to ease the blow of the lost sales. “I'm going to take these, though.” There was maybe fifty dollars worth of stuff left in her hand.

“If it'll entice you to buy more, I'll give you ten percent off,” the woman offered.

“That's really sweet but I can't spend that much,” Meg replied. “Sorry.”

“Don't be sorry.” The woman smiled and it seemed sincere. “Stock moves pretty quick, but if you see something you really like, I'll hold it for you until you come back. I know how much it sucks to come back for something and find it gone.”

“That's really, really sweet of you, but that's okay. Besides, if your stock is always this good, I won't have a problem finding something the next time that I come. This place is really nice. How long have you been open?”

“Oh, only a couple of weeks. I did some advertising. In hindsight, I should have done more. I'm Andrea. by the way. My friends call me Drea.”

“I'm Meg.” She carried her items over to the counter. “It's nice to meet you, Drea.”

“It's nice to meet you, too.” Andrea reached for the items and began to ring them up. “Great choices, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you a dancer?”

“No.” Meg shook her head. “Why do you ask?”

“A lot of my customers are dancers,” Andrea replied. “And I'm not being judgey. I've danced before.”

“I don't judge, either, but I don't dance. No one is paying to see all of this jiggle.”

“Trust me, I'm sure that there are plenty of people who would pay to see you jiggle.” Andrea smiled, and it made her words seem sincere.

“Thanks, but I don't think I could ever do that. All of those people watching me half naked is like that nightmare where you're naked in front of the class on steroids.” Meg reached into her purse and took out her wallet.

“Joseph Grimes?” Andrea read the name off of the credit card Meg handed over.

“My old man,” Meg explained. “That's not a problem, is it?”

“No. I just need to see your ID so I can record it, just in case this is credit card fraud.”

“Sure.” Meg dug out her ID. “It's a sucky picture.”

“Aren't they all?” Andrea smirked. “I'll show you mine one day.”

<#<#<#<#

“How is there no chunky peanut butter?” Meg grumbled to herself and stared at the blank space on the shelf. It was the last item on her list and Train's favorite.

“Life is full of such problems.” The voice that spoke from behind her was familiar, too familiar. Meg knew that it was Carlos before she turned. He grinned. “Hello, Meg.”

“What the fuck do you want?” Meg hoped her voice sounded strong and confident. Even if it did, the fact that she backed right into the shelf full of peanut butter and sent some of it falling ruined the effect. Carlos just laughed; it was a sound that she remembered so well it made her feel sick to her stomach.

“What do I want? I don't want anything. I just saw you and figured I'd say hello. Well, at first I wasn't even sure that it was you with all the weight you've gained. Are you pregnant?”

“Go to hell.”

Carlos ignored the suggestion. “You should probably eat more salads instead of the shit in your cart, and of course, more exercise. And exercise can be fun. You remember the fun we used to have. I bet you burned tons of calories.”

“Actually, I don't remember, since you drugged me.” Meg was surprised that she was able to say anything. He looked almost exactly the same as he had when she'd been head over heels for him, except maybe a little more gray in his goatee.

“Drugged you? Is that the story that you're going with?” Carlos laughed again. “And people believe you when you say that? I've never seen you happier than when you were filled up. I get why you'd say that you were drugged and didn't remember. You're worried about what your old man will really think of you, right? When he realizes that his precious old lady is actually a nasty, dirty whore?”

“You're a liar. You know as well as I do.” The fear of seeing Carlos had faded some. Instead of cowering, Meg realized she wanted to punch him in the face repeatedly for all the shit that he'd caused for her.

“What I know and what people believe are two different things. Don't ever forget that.” Carlos took a step closer to her.

“Is this guy bothering you, Meg?” Monroe spoke from behind her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Relief flooded through her. Instinctively, she moved back from Carlos and towards him.

“I'm not bothering her, just saying hello to an old friend,” Carlos answered. “It's good to see you again, Monroe.”

Good to see him again? How did Carlos know Monroe? Meg felt like she was missing a key piece of the puzzle. The two men stared at each other for a moment more. If they had been in a movie, ominous music would have played. Finally, Carlos smirked and then and walked away.

“You know him?” Meg demanded once he was gone. “How do you know him?”

“It's club business,” Monroe replied. “That's all I can say. Come on, I need to grab some spinach, and then we can check out together. I'll help you get everything out in the truck.”

Meg stared at him blankly for a moment; most of his words hadn't really registered with her. She was stuck on the fact that Carlos had something to do with club business. What could his connection to them possibly be? And was that why he was still breathing?

“Meg?”

“I didn't hear you,” she replied.

“Let's get out of here. I'll help you get the bags out to the truck.” Monroe took hold of her cart. “Do you have everything you need?”

“No.” She really didn't. She didn't have the answers she needed, that was for sure. “I need chunky peanut butter.”

“Looks like they're out.” Monroe scanned the shelf. “Smooth is going to have to work.” He tossed a jar into the cart. “I need spinach. Did you have lunch? I'm starving. Hey, let's go to Gino's. They make the best personal pies as lunch specials.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You will be once you smell the pizza, trust me.” Monroe flashed her a charming smile. “And it'll give me a chance to pick your brain.”

“Pick my brain about what?”

“There's this woman...” Monroe trailed off. “I'll tell you all about her while we eat.”

<#<#<#<#

Meg heard the front door slam and the heavy sound of Train's footsteps as he came towards the kitchen. “Is that soup? Did you make soup?”

“Chicken noodle,” she confirmed with a glance over her shoulder. “What happened to you?”

“What?”

“There's blood on your forehead.”

“It's not mine. Don't ask. You'll lose your appetite.” He came over to stand behind her. “Did you make bread?”

“I bought bread at the grocery store. It'll be just as good.” She turned to face him. “How does Monroe know Carlos, and what does it have to do with Nightshade?” Meg had gone back and forth while she cooked as to how to broach the subject. In the moment, head-on seemed to be the best way.

“What?” Train frowned and she knew that he'd heard her.

“You heard me. Carlos was at the grocery store today. So was Monroe. They knew each other, and Monroe said it was club business. So now, I'm asking you.”

“It's complicated, Meg.”

“I'm pretty smart, I think I'll be able to follow along. What the fuck, Train?” Meg demanded. “Please, talk to me. Please.”

“Did Carlos ever talk about his father?” Train asked after a moment.

“No,” she replied. “Why?” Meg was getting more and more confused by the second.

“Nightshade deals with his father. I'm not going to give you all of the details, but it's a touchy arrangement. Gagliardi is connected.” He looked at her as if that should make perfect sense and explain anything. It didn't. Train seemed to realize that and he sighed. “If anything happens to Carlos, those connections will not be pleased.”

“So, he just keeps on swimming?” Meg let out a laugh. “You know what, that's absolutely perfect. My entire life has gone to shit, and he just keeps getting to do whatever the fuck he wants. Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“It's not the ideal situation. I admit that.” He reached out for her, but she pulled back from him. “Don't do that.” His hand gripped her chin. “Don't. I love you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I can't do what I promised you that I would. I'm sorry that he's still breathing. I'm sorry.”