Believing Bailey

by Linda Kage

  I opened my mouth to say hello, but that seemed like the lamest greeting to give someone after they’d just selflessly nursed you through the night and single-handedly kept you from having a complete mental breakdown. So I closed my mouth and tried to cough some morning dryness from my throat.

  Bailey squeaked her surprise, nearly tumbling from the bed and not-nearly, but actually catching me in the ribs this time with her elbow.

  I sucked in a breath and curled into a ball around the pain, cradling my side with both hands.

  “Holy shit,” she yelped, sitting upright to gape at me. “I totally forgot you were here.”

  I intended to apologize for scaring her, but Jesus Christ, I hurt.

  “Are you okay?” she finally asked, worry sparking her gray eyes, before she reached out her hand to touch my arm, only to pull back again.

  I nodded and tried to straighten so she wouldn’t be able to tell how much my side still throbbed.

  She continued to frown with worry, watching me closely. I focused on her face and felt a sharp, stabbing embarrassment. I’d completely freaked out all over her. I’d taken charity from her and stayed at her place, which I never would’ve done in a normal frame of mind. I’d hugged her, clung to her really, and weakly let her comfort me. And I barely knew her.

  I had no idea what to say and had to look away. I kind of would’ve loved it if the earth would crack open right about now and suck me down forever. Anything to escape this humiliating, humbling moment.

  “I need to use the bathroom,” she said abruptly as if she too felt the urgent need to escape.

  After scampering off the bed, she darted, still in the clothes she’d worn the night before through a partially opened doorway before snapping it shut.

  Sitting up, I looked around her bedroom. She was an eclectic kind of girl. Star Wars and Marvel bobble heads sat on shelves in front of posters on the wall of country western music groups, which were tacked next to a plaque for winning sub-state in high school basketball, while Chucks and cowboy boots and high heels lay scattered across the floor in front of a huge open treasure chest-looking trunk that had all sorts of clothes hanging over the side, from black, white and greys to pinks, reds, blues and browns.

  From first glance, she appeared to be an assortment of everything.

  Behind the door, the toilet flushed and then the faucet ran before Bailey reappeared, stepping into the room and trying to smooth down her wild locks. “Do you need to go?” she asked, motioning behind her and into the bathroom.

  I did, but I shook my head no. It was as if accepting one more thing from her—even the use of her facilities—was too much.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked next, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and rubbing her stomach.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, but oddly enough, I wasn’t hungry. So I opened my mouth and rasped the words, “I’m fine.”

  There was so much I knew I should say. Thank you. Sorry. Thank you again. But the words didn’t come, and I felt even more lacking.

  Bailey cleared her throat, and I knew my muteness was only making her feel more uneasy. “Well, you should eat anyway.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “All my roommates have probably left for the day. I’m going to go to the kitchen and grab us some breakfast.” When I didn’t respond, she lifted her eyebrows and added, “Okay?”

  I moved my head up and down to mollify her, and she finally left the room. That’s when I swung my feet over the side of the mattress and lowered them to the floor before rising to a stooped-over stand. My ribs screamed in protest, so I hugged them close as I looked down at myself.

  I was still wearing everything, even my sneakers, from the night before. I blinked at them, wondering if I’d ever slept in my shoes before. Unable to remember a time when I had, I glanced up and spotted my keys on the nightstand.

  I grabbed them and took my first halting step toward the door. Ten more later, I could finally straighten my back fully, and five more after that, I reached out and turned the handle before opening up and glancing into a quiet hall.

  It looked safe, so I stepped from her room and headed toward what looked like an opening of a living room. I didn’t remember much of the floorplan from the night before. It’d been dark and I’d been out of it.

  Another rash of embarrassment heated my cheeks. I couldn’t believe the way I’d reacted. I’d never been so needy and overcome before. Yes, my mother’s rejection had staggered me, but I should’ve been able to weather it.

  I hadn’t, and I hated that weakness about me.

  Once I hit the living room, noises from one direction told me the kitchen was that way where Bailey was making breakfast. I went the other way, hurrying toward a banister that wrapped around a descending stairwell. After easing down the steps, I pulled open the door, burrowed deeper into my hoodie at the blast of cold morning air, and I stepped outside.

  My truck sat across the street. I ignored the scratch marks starting from the front fender and ended halfway down the side of the bed, and unlocked the door before climbing inside and starting the engine.

  Before pulling out into the street, I looked up at the apartment I’d stayed in overnight and shook my head, feeling shitty.

  I hadn’t thanked her, not for a single thing. I had no idea where I’d be right now if she hadn’t pulled me together and brought me back to her place, if she hadn’t held me while I’d fallen apart and let me sleep comforted in her arms. She deserved more than me taking off without even a thank you, and yet she deserved more than me sticking around too.

  I wasn’t in a position where I could repay her for anything. Right now, I could only take. Someone as giving and supportive as her didn’t need a me in her life.

  When I checked my fuel level, I cursed under my breath to see it nearly at a full tank. I vaguely recalled Bailey filling it up for me. Dammit, was there anything she hadn’t done for me last night?

  I wasn’t her responsibility. Actually, I wasn’t anyone’s responsibly. Not anymore. I needed to take care of myself. As I turned a corner at the end of the block and glanced into the rearview mirror, the flapping lid of a box in the bed caught my attention.

  First thing first, I should probably find a place for my shit. Leaving it out in the open much longer would only invite thieves. So after finding the first dumpster I saw behind a business building, I pulled up next to it and got out to sort my things.

  Most of it had been broken or destroyed, so it was fairly easy to weed out the clothes and amenities I could salvage. Those went into the backseat as I tossed the rest into the trash. When I came across my electronic tablet, lap top computer and a watch I’d never worn, and none of them had been destroyed, I paused, looking them over before an idea hit.

  Once the bed of my truck was clean, I found a pawnshop. I sat outside the store for nearly an hour, going through files and pictures, emailing the ones I wanted to keep to myself before deleting the rest and wiping all my personal shit from everything. Then I untethered my internet connection to them from my phone and hugged both tablet and computer to my chest for a few seconds in farewell.

  The pawnshop owner offered me a pathetically low price for them, but I wasn’t in a position to haggle. As he counted up my cash, he squinted at me and tipped his head to the side.

  “You look awfully familiar. Do I know you?”

  I dipped my chin down so the bill of my hat would cover more of my face. “Don’t think so,” I mumbled, hoping like hell he didn’t recognize me from the news. I needed that money he was only seconds away from handing me; if he realized who I was, I wasn’t so sure he’d be willing to buy my things any longer. People could be so finicky when dealing with a news-reported rapist.

  But he never figured it out, just frowned and shook his head before scratching his chin and handing me the dirty, tattered stack of bills across the counter.

  “Thank you.” I took them with a suddenly shaking hand and sent him a nod of gratitude before I
got the hell out of there.

  Food was my next stop, so I pulled into the first fast food joint I could find. My stomach jolted as soon as I stepped inside the restaurant. It had to have been over twenty-four hours since I’d last eaten. Keeping my hat pulled low and the hoodie of my sweatshirt up around my neck, obscuring most of my face, I ordered off the dollar menu and sat in the corner with the most shadows. It was past the noon hour rush, and business had slowed, but stray people would trickle in every few minutes.

  I was nearly finished, polishing off my fries and sucking the last of my drink through the straw when a mother entered, her young daughter dancing around her and already begging for the toy from the happy meal. I started to smile, charmed by her enthusiasm before a great big swell of panic hit, straight in my chest.

  I suddenly pictured someone else recognizing me and pointing, then shouting rapist. The mom would gasp and grab her daughter, clutching her close, terrifying the poor kid who’d been so eager only a second before. Panic and chaos would ensue, all happiness and smiles suddenly gone, just because I was sitting here, eating my meal.

  I don’t think I belonged out in public among people anymore.

  The last fry felt extra dry going down. I stood and rushed to pack away what was left, stuffing the last of my fries into the pocket of my hoodie for later, then I threw my trash away and hurried back to the bathrooms to clean up before I left.

  I changed outfits, then washed my face and hands. Once I left the restaurant, I started to jog toward my truck, but a shout from the opened window of another truck sitting in the drive though waylaid me.

  At first, all they hollered was, “Hey, you!” so I kept going without even glancing back. But then I heard a car door slam and footsteps before someone added, “Beckett Hilliard.”

  I looked back on instinct, hearing my name, and saw Chance Fairfield rushing toward me, followed by a couple other guys from our fraternity who must’ve been riding with him.

  At first, I could only blink dumbly. But seriously, what were the odds of running into him of all people in a town this big? The campus wasn’t even anywhere near here, and he should’ve been in class this time of day. Right?

  I took too long cursing my luck. It gave him ample opportunity to run right up into my space, threatening and already rearing his arm back.

  “You are so dead, you motherfucker,” he growled before plowing a fist into my jaw.

  I’m not gonna lie, it rang my bell.

  I thought I was going to pass out or at the very least puke. But from the corner of my throbbing eye, I saw him swing again and I ducked at the last moment. The air from his jab swept across my cheek he was so close to the mark, but at least he missed.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” I said, lifting my hands, and trying to reason with him. “You just need to calm down and listen to me a second. I didn’t force her to do anything.”

  But, oh, was that the wrong thing to say. He cried out his rage and steamrolled his entire body toward me, bowing his head and using his shoulder as a battering ram to tackle me to the ground.

  I landed with a bone-jarring thud, splitting pain through my ribs. It stole my breath and gave the cowboy time for a couple more punches before I couldn’t handle it anymore. I hurt so fucking bad, I needed him off me or I just knew I was going to die. I bucked him away, shoving, and kicking, and punching blindly in a wild desperation to be free. I knew I hit a couple of solid lands because I felt the firm give of flesh under my knuckles and heard his grunt of surprise.

  When I successfully got my feet planted on his abdomen and kicked him off away, he tumbled backward, landing ass first on the asphalt about three yards away. But as soon as I rolled into my hands and knees and tried to push to my feet, two of my ex-fraternity brothers grabbed my arms to prevent me from escaping. The bastards hauled me upright, keeping hold of me as Chance staggered to his feet.

  My nose felt broken, and I tasted that all too familiar metallic flavor. The cowboy didn’t look so good himself, though. He shook his head and wiped a handful of blood from his upper lip.

  I shook my head, struggling against my captors as he stormed menacingly closer. “You’re so wrong about this, Fairfield,” I tried. “You’re going to feel like shit when you realize how wrong you are. She lied.”

  He only snarled, curling back his lips to flash his teeth. “My sister doesn’t lie.” And he jacked me in the jaw.

  My vision blinked out, then blinked back on, but everything was blurry and I felt really dizzy. When he reared back his arm again, I shook my head and whimpered out a single plea through bloody lips. “Stop.”

  “Oh my God!” a female voice suddenly cried. “You boys stop that. Stop that this instant. Leave that young man alone. I’m calling the police.”

  The two people holding my arms suddenly jumped away from me, letting go quickly enough that I slumped to my knees.

  Chance turned tail and ran off behind them toward his truck where I vaguely made out Max standing and watching with large eyes as if he wanted to hurry away with them but also wanted to check on me. He made eye contact with me briefly, and when I mouthed his name, his eyes flooded with regret before he spun away and followed the other three to the truck, where they climbed inside and squealed the tires in their hurry to leave.

  I stared after them, panting heavily and clutching my ribs as I remained slumped on my knees.

  “Are you all right? Don’t move. I’m going to call you an ambulance.”

  “I’m fine,” I croaked, looking up to find the same woman who’d entered earlier with her excited daughter. The girl was now clutching the woman’s legs and looking scared out of her mind. “No ambulance,” I assured them, lifting a hand to wave the offer away. “I’m okay, ma’am. But thank you.”

  The kid still looked scared out of her wits. She held her happy meal to her chest, the paper bag rattling noisily from the force with which she shook.

  I offered the girl a small smile. “Did you get the toy you wanted?”

  I didn’t realize what a dumb question that was until the mom paused in her dialing to blink at me. The kid stared at me as if I’d lost my mind.

  I guess I could no longer smile and talk to little kids, a fact proven true when the mom sucked in a sudden breath a second later. I lifted my face, noticing recognition widening her eyes.

  “Oh, Lord. You’re… oh, my God.” She grabbed her daughter harshly and yanked her away from me before spinning them both away and hurrying to her SUV across the parking lot, while her kid cried, “But, mom. That man’s bleeding.”

  They rushed from of the parking lot almost as quickly as Chance and Max and his crew had.

  I sat there a few seconds longer before pulling myself together and slowly pushing myself to my feet. My truck was only about twenty feet away, but it felt like a damn mile. I really didn’t think my body could take much more abuse. Once I reached my ride, climbed behind the wheel, and pulled the door shut, I just sat there, resting my head back and closing my eyes. That one small walk felt as if it’d taken all the energy I had.

  But I knew I couldn’t stay here much longer. Being recognized seemed to come with nothing but pain. I needed to find somewhere to go that was away from people. Away from pain.

  I meandered out of town, out toward the university barn where I used to work, idly daydreaming about how I’d give anything to be shoveling the shit out of horse stalls right now. I let myself yearn for my old life, wishing it could all return to normal again as I turned deeper into the country and headed out to the University lake, which was really a small pond that all us aggie students went bass fishing from occasionally.

  It was rarely ever used, and certainly not during typical school hours, so I knew I’d find the place empty. I parked near the shore and killed the engine to regroup.

  For the longest time, I sat watching the occasional, lazy ripples across the surface of the water, or a wood duck float by. It was peaceful and beautiful and so out of place from all the ugliness surrounding me lat
ely. But like Bailey’s bedroom this morning, it almost felt too peaceful for me now.

  I didn’t belong here anymore than I belonged out in public or in that perfect bedroom of hers with her. Wetness trickled down my cheek as I wondered if there was anywhere I belonged. Would anyone care at all if I just ceased to exist?

  That thought was depressing, so I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. I tried to nap in the driver’s seat but it wouldn’t incline very far due to all my personal effects I had piled in the back, and besides there was no getting my ribs comfortable on such a hard surface.

  The sun began to slide down in the sky, evening rose, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand sleeping here all night.

  I started the truck and headed back toward Granton. Not sure why I stuck around the area, there was nothing for me here. I could literally go anywhere in the world, there were no ties holding me down. I wouldn’t get far with the money I had, but there was no reason whatsoever for me to stay.

  Except maybe for one.

  I found myself back at her apartment twenty minutes later. Turning the truck off, I stared up at her place, my chest constricting with the idea of going to her right now. I had enough funds to last me a couple more nights at a hotel, but I needed to think bigger than that, plan for further into the future than a day or two.

  Bailey had said the night before that I could stay at her place until I got back on my feet. At least I’m pretty sure I remembered her saying that; I hadn’t been too with it.

  Besides, something ached in me, deep inside, feeling hollow at the thought of never seeing her again. I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d ditched out on her without saying goodbye, or something else. But I felt drawn here. Maybe I could just tell her thank you.

  The only problem was I didn’t want to bother her. I barely knew her and she’d already done so much for me. Too much. I just couldn’t let myself become that obligated to anyone. It felt wrong. Not to mention the fact I wasn’t sure if I could ever look her in the eye again for the way I’d wigged out on her.