“What the fuck?” She flinches at the sheer anger in my tone.
“Sorry, I thought maybe Jay would have told you.”
“He obviously fuckin’ didn’t.”
“Oh, well, I got a new neighbor, and his son and his friends were breaking beer bottles and being loud one night. I called the cops, and they arrested the son for underage drinking, and I guess his friends had pot on them or something, too. The dad is a jerk and super creepy. Anyway, the kid and his friends are really loud sometimes, despite me asking them to quiet down, but if we sleep in my room with the door closed, I can’t hear them.”
“Why is he super creepy?”
She bites her lip and looks away. “I’m sure I’m overreacting, but when I told him his son woke my daughter up, he asked how old she was and if he could babysit her.”
Hell, no.
“What the fuck, Opal? You didn’t tell Jay that shit, did you?” I answer my question for her. “No fuckin’ way he’d leave you two here alone if you did, so I know you didn’t.”
She still doesn’t look at me because she knows I’m right. She’s been hiding shit from Jay.
“There’s more to it than that,” I state.
“Well, someone threw a rock through my window. I don’t think it’s related, though.”
“Yes, you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have brought it up.”
Her throat moves when she swallows. “It’s just since then I’ve come home to a weird feeling. It’s nothing I can prove, but it just feels weird. And I’ve been looking for a different place, so it’s all good; we’ll move and we’ll be fine.”
Damn straight, she’s moving. They are not staying in a place where the landlord rents to some fucking piece of shit and his piece-of-shit son. My neck twitches, and I have to squeeze my hands together to keep from hitting something. I can’t believe she’s been living like this. “Do you set your alarm when you leave?”
“I always do.”
“Are your window sensors for any activity or just if they raise and lower?”
“Only when they open and close.”
I can’t believe this shit. Why didn’t she tell me? Or her brother-in-law. “Does Jay know about any of this?” When she doesn’t answer, I have mine. “Did you at least call the cops to report it?”
“Aside from the one time…” She nibbles on her lip and shakes her head.
“Why not?”
“Because like I said, it’s just a feeling, and technically, they’re not doing anything illegal. Not since the night of the beer bottles.”
“Rocks through your window aren’t just a fucking feeling.” I walk around her house, checking all the windows and doors. “Why didn’t you at least call Jay with the rock?”
“Hello, they just had a baby and all the wedding stuff. Besides, I was fine. I have an appointment for someone to give me an estimate next week.”
“Jesus, Opal. I know you’re smart, but I can’t believe you could be so careless about not only your safety but Olivia’s too.” I sit on a kitchen chair. “Your gut was telling you something was wrong, and you didn’t listen to it and now…” I leave off the part where I’m going to murder someone when I find out who’s been scaring her. And this fucker who asked about my little girl.
Shit. Damn. Fuck.
Olivia’s not mine.
Fuck that. Yes, she is.
If there’s anything I’ve learned in my career in law enforcement, it’s that your gut is never wrong. And Opal is a smart woman. No way would she be creeped out if it wasn’t warranted.
Speaking of. I kick the chair harder than I mean to when I head upstairs to her room to walk through and check the windows and closet. I stop in the hallway and push up on the attic door, which is locked from the inside. If she’s getting a weird feeling when she comes home, there’s a reason for it.
I go back downstairs and tell her I’ll be right back, and then go out to my truck. When I get back, I wait for her to reset the alarm and then I take my duffel bag upstairs.
She follows me and closes her bedroom door behind her. “What are you doing?”
“You are not”—I point at her—“going to be here alone when someone is scaring the shit out of you. So until I can have a chat with the neighbors, which you will not be here for, I’ll be here, making sure you guys can sleep easy.”
“It hasn’t happened in a while. I don’t think—”
“Some guy who gives you the creeps asks how old your daughter is and if he can babysit her, and you don’t think? Whatever asinine reason you have for not telling your fuckin’ brother-in-law, who is an outstanding detective, Opal, is not cool. You don’t have to do the thinkin’, all right? I’ll deal with it because I care a helluva lot about you and fuckin’ love that little girl who’s sleepin’ safe across the hall. And I’ll tell you this… ain’t no motherfucker gonna be near her who asks questions like that.” I take a breath, put my hands on my hips, and tilt my head back to look at the ceiling. “Are you gonna trust me to take care of this shit?”
She slowly nods, no doubt processing my goddamn speech. “You’re right. And I do. God, I’m so stupid, I—”
“You’re not stupid, doll. You’re stressed, and you’re terrified for more reasons than one. Let me help you.”
“But you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Not anymore.”
“I can’t ask you to stay.”
I drop my duffel and close in on her. “You can; you just won’t. God forbid, you actually admit you need some fuckin’ help. Or that you feel something for me.”
She looks at the floor, and I decide to lay it all out for her. “All you have to fucking do is ask me, Opal. Ask me anything in the world, and I’d do it for you. I’d give it to you. I’d find a way. For you, baby doll, and for Olivia. I’d even stay. All you have to do is ask.”
At that, she looks back up, bright eyes red and lips quivering. “Ryan.”
“I get it, though. You don’t trust me enough. You don’t like me enough to take the risk. But what you don’t understand is it’s me who’s already lost everything because I’m losing you.”
8
OPAL
The bed jolts, and Ryan’s arms tighten around me as he rolls me over to my back.
“Don’t move, baby,” he whispers, but there is no softness to his demand.
“What?”
“Someone’s in the house. Grab your phone, call 911. Fuck, the fuckin’ alarm didn’t go off.” He grabs a gun from the nightstand drawer, one that I didn’t even know was there, and walks to the door. “Lock this, do not leave. 911 now.”
My hands shake, but I manage to grab my phone and dial the three numbers as I watch him hold up his gun and exit my room. I rattle off my address, and then tell them there’s an intruder and an armed US Marshal in the home before I hang up and call Jay. He answers on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Someone’s in my house.”
“Call emergency.” Sleep long gone from his voice.
“I did. Ryan’s here, and he went down there.”
“Good.” There’s a bit of shock in his voice, but I’d gather he’s too worried that someone is in my house to care too much right now. “He’s good, Opal. Just stay where he told you. I’m on my way.”
I open my mouth to tell him to hurry when I hear yelling. Ryan yelling and more than one voice yelling back at him. Oh, God. Then something breaks. And then one gunshot. Then nothing. The phone falls from my hand, and I vaguely hear Jay calling my name. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. What do I do?
If he’s hurt, I need to help him. What if he’s lying on the floor bleeding out? What if Olivia hears that and tries to go downstairs? What if whoever shot him is going to come for my daughter?
My body isn’t connected to my brain as I silently put my feet on the floor. He told me to lock the door. I should do that. Should listen to him. But I can’t. I need to make sure my little girl is okay. And Ryan… God, Ryan.
I turn the knob and silently than
k the Lord for wall-to-wall carpet. Opening Olivia’s door, I see her still sound asleep, so I quickly shut her door. Then I walk on my toes to the stairs, and using the same technique, I descend. By the time I make it to the bottom, I’ve finally realized what a stupid idea this is.
I don’t have a weapon—not that I’d know how to use a gun—and absolutely no plan.
The way my house is set up, as soon as I hit the last step, I’m in my living room. So I freeze when I see the state of said room. A man lies in the middle of the floor, blood pouring out of him from somewhere and another stands next to him, pointing a gun at Ryan with shaky hands. And then there’s Ryan; directly across from him, pointing his gun, his arm steady and sure.
“Do not move, Opal,” Ryan growls without looking at me, a low timbre in his voice I’ve never heard before. “Put your weapon down, man. This doesn’t have to go bad for you.”
The intruder’s hand shakes even more, and the gun goes right along with it. “It’s already bad. Can’t get much fuckin’ worse.”
“You can get dead. That’s pretty fuckin’ bad.”
“No.” His eyes dart to me, and his arm moves.
“Stop fuckin’ moving and put your weapon down!”
Sirens sound in the distance, getting loud very, very fast.
“No. No, shit, shit.” The guy is clearly whacked. He’s high on something, and when his eyes come back to me, I suck in a breath at how pale and sweaty his face is. I’m slowly trying to inch my way back toward the stairs, and I see the moment he makes his decision.
Ryan sees it too because he fires his gun the same time as he dives for me on his left side. The room is blurry as I’m taken down. I land with an insanely hard thud as Ryan’s body weight is on top of me. Covering me. Like armor.
I can’t breathe. Literally, the wind is knocked out of me, and the room is entirely silent, except for the sound of Ryan breathing. “You okay, baby doll?”
“Ryan?” I gasp his name as my breath returns, and he rolls off me. “Oh, my God. Are you okay?” He lies on his back, and when I sit up, I feel something sticky. “You’re bleeding.”
“That generally happens when you get shot.”
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”
He sits up, but I instinctively try to push him back down because I feel like if you just got shot, you should be lying down for some reason. “Fuck.” His arm goes to his shoulder and pushes my hand away, but it comes back covered in blood. “I’m fine, Opal. It just grazed me, but shit, woman, don’t grab it.”
“You’re not fine. You got shot!” I cry, throwing myself at him where he manages to wrap his good arm around me.
With my head on his chest, I can’t hear anything over my crying. I focus on the rhythm of his heart, thankful it’s still beating, and cling tighter, imagining what else could have happened if he wasn’t here. A different hand touches my head, and I jump. “It’s just me,” Jay’s familiar and soothing voice penetrates, and I pull back enough to look at him.
“Nope. Eyes on me, doll,” Ryan says firmly.
I have no problem looking at him instead of a dead body. Two. Oh, my God, there are two dead bodies in my living room. They got in without the alarm going off. I’m sure Jay shut it off when he got here, but what the fuck. “I have to get Olivia. She can’t…” I try to scramble up, but something is holding me back.
“Opal. Relax.” Jay squats down. “I need you to let go of the vise grip you got on your man.”
My man.
My man.
My man got shot. And then I realize I’m the one clinging to him, my nails are digging into his flesh. My hands tingle when I pry my fists open, and I slowly sit up, noticing the discoloration to his stomach and bicep from where my fingers were. “Olivia,” I mutter.
“Get her to her room and pack bags for her and Olivia. They can stay with me tonight, and Opal’ll give a statement tomorrow,” Ryan tells Jay. He tells him. Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t run it by him. He tells him, like it’s his right.
“Let’s go get you guys a bag.” Jay grabs me by my elbow and starts to lift me up, but I sink my weight to the floor.
“He needs a doctor.” Some of the adrenaline is coming back, and my eyes burn and become blurry as I stare at the chunk of flesh missing from Ryan’s shoulder. “He needs a fucking doctor. He’s bleeding!” I press my hand to the wound, trying to stop the blood from leaving him even though he told me not to. “He needs help.”
Jay pulls me away, and I lash out, needing to do something. “Somebody needs to help him!”
“They will,” Jay reassures me.
“He can’t die. They have to help him.”
“They will.”
No. “He needs help! He can’t die! He can’t!”
“He’s not going to.”
“You can’t let him die. God Jay, I can’t lose him, too. He can’t die!”
“Look.” He points at the EMTs walking in. I didn’t even notice the shit ton of cops in my living room, but I look past them. Then I look through the two dead bodies. Seeing them doesn’t do anything for me because they tried to kill him. They were going to shoot him. They were going to take him away from me. “See. They’re going to make sure he’s okay.”
He doesn’t wait any longer before he drags me upstairs. I have enough sense not to scream and wake Olivia up, thanking God she’s such a heavy sleeper. I put a white noise machine in her room to try to drown out the sound of the neighbors, and it’s worked pretty well. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I let him bring me to the bathroom where I watch Ryan’s blood wash off my hands. He wets a towel and wipes my face and a couple of other spots on me. “Can you pack yourself a bag while I go grab Olivia? I want her out of this house.”
My mouth doesn’t work, but I manage a nod. In a trance, I put some clothes in a bag and slide on a pair of shoes. Jay walks into my room with a still sleeping Olivia and a small backpack dangling from his wrist. I’ve never been more thankful for how heavy she sleeps. “You good to walk down the stairs?”
Again, a movement of my head is all the answer he gets as I follow him down the stairs. I look over and see the spot where Ryan was lying and find it empty. “Where did he go?” I ask in a panic.
“They’re fixing him up, Opal. He’s going to be fine.”
I shake my head. “Look how much blood there is.”
“Can you take her, man?” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jay handing Olivia over to another guy. My heart races for a moment until I realize it’s Jay’s old partner, Brandon. “Opal.”
The dark red puddle on my floor seems to expand before my eyes. So much blood. Nobody can survive if they lose that much blood, can they? God, it’s my fault. He’s going to die, and it’s my fault again.
When I went into labor with Olivia, I should have gone to the hospital earlier. I shouldn’t have waited so long. If I had given Josh more time, he wouldn’t have had to speed, and he wouldn’t have crashed.
And now Ryan. He was protecting us, and he… he’s… he got shot.
“Let’s go, Opal.” Jay lifts me up, and I wrap my arms around his neck.
“He can’t die.”
“He’s not going to, sweetie.”
He drags me through the house, and somehow, I end up in Jay’s car. My eyes dart around to try to find Ryan. If he was really okay, he’d still be here. I’d see him in the yard with all the other cops. Jay’s lying to me. Ryan’s not going to be okay.
That’s why when he pulls up to his house, he tells me he’ll be right back after he takes Olivia inside. That’s why he doesn’t say anything to me when he lets me lean on him as I barely walk into the mudroom.
He sets me on a chair in the kitchen, and I reach over and grab the half-drunk bottle of wine and take a long swallow.
My vision becomes murky as I try to set the bottle back down, but it crashes off the table. I absentmindedly reach for it and end up falling off my chair. I have no strength even to hold my head up as the weight of this ho
rrible, horrible night finally hits me. Liv is right here, all of the sudden, pulling me into her arms, and I curl into her. A wail tears through my chest, and the force of it makes Liv fall to her ass. I can’t hold it in anymore, and let everything out.
I didn’t have my big sister when Josh died, but I have her now when I need her the most. Because this is the worst. I’m barely able to inhale a full breath but manage to calm down enough to tell her, “They shot him.”
“I know.”
“He can’t die.”
“He didn’t, Opal.”
I talk through the tears, and my words don’t make sense even to me. “He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t.”
“He’s not going to.” She rocks me back and forth. “He’s not going to die.”
“He can’t die.” I chant the words over and over until my throat aches. My sister tries to calm me, shushing me and promising me everything is going to be okay. I want to believe her. I want to pretend that I live in a world where I can believe that.
But this is exactly why. Feeling this fear and living through it are something I can’t do again. I can’t put my daughter through it. We can’t love someone and have them leave us. I knew him leaving would hurt, but I had no idea just how bad.
“I told you they were coming with me.” I hear Ryan’s angry voice coming from somewhere in the fog of my mind, and I think I must have fallen asleep.
“They needed out of there, Ry. Wasn’t gonna wait any longer,” Jay responds.
“Where is she?” Jay doesn’t answer right away, and Ryan growls. “Where the fuck is she?”
I then hear heavy footsteps followed by a thud. “Get your goddamn hand off me,” Ryan warns, and Liv’s arms around me spasm. “See, he’s okay.”
“You saw exactly what I did. You heard it, too,” Jay states.
I have no clue what he’s talking about, but apparently, Ryan does. “I fucking know, Jay. I was there. I heard it. I fuckin’ saw it, and that’s exactly why I’m here. This bullshit ends tonight.”
Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection Page 64