"Love, Trust, and Secrets"

Chapter 4-2

Tyler arrived at the library in record time. He sat at an open computer. Seconds later, parents off from work and kids home from school came and snatched up the remaining computers, and a line formed. He threw up a quick prayer of thanks that he’d arrived when he had, then took a deep breath, letting the smell of the books calm his nerves.

He typed his name in the search bar, then held his breath while the machine searched. The seconds ticked away in his mind before a long list of choices appeared on the screen. His heart stopped beating, and his hands fisted. His gaze moved quickly over the words in front of him, his brain taking longer to comprehend them. The second time he checked the list, its contents registered. His tightened muscles relaxed, and his breathing returned to normal. There were no new entries. The most recent one was from six months earlier, a birthday wish printed in the newspaper by his dad. He stared at the page and read. The print became blurry the farther he got. His father’s words caused his chest to constrict as he fought for air. He would give anything if he could only go back, but going home wasn’t an option, might never be. The thought caused an ache in his heart. He wiped his eyes, then closed the window on the computer.

Next, he put Stella’s name in the search bar. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find. Maybe her confession, that she’d planted the drugs they’d found in his room, that she’d shot him up, causing him to overdose. Maybe a note, saying why she did it, why she kept lying to his dad and the police. Regardless of what he hoped to discover, he found nothing, only a screen filled with similar names, none matching.

Tyler shut down the page and erased the browser history. When he glanced at the clock, it was later than he expected. He could spare only a few more minutes. But did he want to? He had checked his social media pages his last time there, and it had almost broken him. He wasn’t sure if it had been the heartfelt messages from some of his friends that’d done it, or the realization of how many friends he’d lost after they’d heard his story and believed the lies. Either way, it was more than he could deal with. In that moment, thinking of his dad was more than enough.

He needed to go before his thoughts brought him further down. He couldn’t allow it. Last time he’d become despondent, it had taken him more than a week to get over it, and since he was already in the shithouse at work, he couldn’t afford another bout of depression. No. He finished for the day. Nothing had changed. He was still safe. And he’d stay that way for as long as he could help it.

He stood, and a little old woman waiting for his spot smiled at him. He did his best to smile back. The weight of why he was there still sat heavy in his heart.

Outside, he took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air as he tried to force his strained muscles to loosen. Being tense always made the long trip home seem longer.

On a good note, he didn’t have to wait for a cab. That morning, he’d ridden his bike to work, knowing he’d have limited time to make it home and back. Sometimes, it’d made losing a tail, whether real or imagined, easier and his ride home quicker. The bike made it difficult for anyone to follow him. He could go the wrong way on a one-way road or disappear on one of the many bike trails surrounding the area.

He raced home and made good time, but he didn’t start to fully relax until he stepped inside, hooking his bike to the wall next to his bed. He always had a panic attack when he left the library, regardless of what he found. He always believed, to the point of paranoia, there was some kind of spyware attached to his name, something the police or his family would be able to use to track him down, regardless of how crazy his theory was. Because, even if such a thing existed, the idea his family would have access to the thing was ridiculous. But no matter how farfetched the idea, he couldn’t write off the sheer terror the thought brought over him, or what it made him do.

Back at home, Tyler secured all the locks on his door. They were more to do with where he was living than the fact he was hiding. The other tenants had mentioned the landlord sometimes liked to visit when they weren’t home. Tyler hated the idea, but he didn’t have any choice. This place was all he could afford, and the fact the owner hadn’t required any references made it ideal. So he did what he could and added extra locks, and even though they might not prevent the landlord from coming in, they would make it a lot more difficult. And to be extra safe, Tyler made sure he didn’t leave anything important lying around.

In the little corner he called a bedroom, Tyler searched through the boxes holding his clothes, trying to find something to wear. He didn’t have much to choose from. The best he could come up with were a pair of black jeans he used for work and a black button-down shirt he had bought from the local thrift store to wear for interviews. Everything else either bore the name of his restaurant or was too casual for not knowing where Jarod planned to take him.

If this date led to more, he would use some of his savings to work on a wardrobe. He shook his head. Where the hell had that thought come from? All morning, he’d thought going out was a mistake, and now, he was planning a whole new wardrobe for a future with Jared. It had to be the s*x. He needed it bad.

Tyler peeked at the time on his phone and realized he needed to move. He didn’t want to be late.

In the shower, he had a thirty-second debate about getting himself off. Based on the time, and to the disappointment of his c**k, he needed to forgo that luxury.

Once dressed, he headed out the door. His chest welled with excitement, and his nerves tingled. No matter what he told himself, he was looking forward to the night.

To burn off some of the nervous energy coursing through his body, he decided to take a cab only part of the way and to walk the rest. Close, he turned the corner and spotted Jarod in the distance, standing outside his restaurant. He wore black jeans like Tyler’s and a white shirt.

Tyler’s heartbeat picked up its pace, and his palms sweat. He wiped his hands on his pants, hoping Jarod didn’t pick that moment to turn around. Still in the clear, he took another second to check his breath. Good to go, he crossed the street. Before Jarod turned, Tyler was up behind him.