by Elle Casey
I shrug. I don’t want to upset her, but I also want her to know that I’m not here to hurt her. “I get it. He told me that he feels guilty that he didn’t take better care of you and he won’t ever let that happen again. I know that’s why he wants to help me.”
“He told you what? That he didn’t take better care of me?” She stands, pissed.
I reach out and take her by the wrist. “Please don’t say anything to him.”
She looks down at me, slowly pulling herself from my grip. “He’s wrong. He shouldn’t have said that to you.”
“Why?”
“Because. It’s none of your business.” She hisses out a breath. “Why would he tell you that? He must be more into you than I realized.”
I nearly choke hearing that. “No, he’s not, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not his type at all.”
“Says who?” She barks out a laugh.
“Says him. Thibault. He told me.”
“Seriously? He just came out and told you that?”
“Yes.” I hate that she thinks I somehow caused him to say that, like I made a move on him or something. “If you must know, he said when he ends up with someone, she’ll be the polar opposite of you, and since he thinks we’re a lot alike . . .” I shrug. Let her do the math.
She just stares at me.
“I know you think I’m going to get him in trouble.” I shake my head, looking down at my baby. “But you don’t need to worry about that. I’m leaving tonight, and you’ll never see me again.”
Toni slowly sits down. “Oh, yeah? Where’re you going?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Away from here.”
She studies me for so long I have to look up at her. I cannot read her expression for the life of me. “What?” I finally say, getting annoyed at her silent evaluation.
“I’m just trying to figure you out. Find out what your game is.”
I understand that she’s being protective of her brother, so I try not to be too angry at her cold approach. “I don’t have a game, okay? Thibault and I met under very strange circumstances, and he was a really good guy about all of it. And he wants to help me out even more than he already has, but I’ve already told him no, okay? I’ll be gone tonight, and by tomorrow your lives can go back to the way they were.” I feel low. Dirty. Like I’m a bad person who will taint their lives. It’s not my worst moment, but it’s close, and I think I feel that way because I’m holding my son. He’s so perfect, so innocent. I don’t want the darkness of my life to bleed into his.
Toni’s nose twitches. “What does Thibault say about you leaving?”
“It doesn’t matter what he says. He’s not my keeper, and I’m not his responsibility.”
She smiles, or at least I think the expression on her face is a smile. It looks more like she’s in pain than good humor. “Try telling my brother that and see how far it gets you.”
My heart softens a little. “He is pretty stubborn.”
“I’m guessing you’re no slouch in that department.” She raises an eyebrow in challenge.
I shrug. “Maybe not.”
She leans down all of a sudden and grabs the duffel bag from the floor, unzipping it in one fluid motion. “I brought some stuff over here for you. You can keep all of it.” She pulls several things out and drops them on the table. “Baby blankets, onesies, a couple nursing shirts for you, flip-flops, a pair of sweat pants . . .” She looks at my lower half and frowns. “They might be a little tight, but you can shop tomorrow and get something better.”
I think she just made a comment about my butt being bigger than hers, but I’m going to let that slide because she just lightened my load about twenty pounds by thinking of my baby and making sure he was provided for.
I reach up and touch the soft blanket she’s given me. “I don’t know what to say.” I put the material against my face, so grateful to have this for my child. He won’t have to be wrapped in a urine-soaked, freebie hospital cloth. It’s overwhelming me that she would be nice when she obviously doesn’t like me. It’s so silly . . . just some onesies and a couple blankets . . .
“Hey, what’re you doing?” she asks, reaching over and tugging on my wrist. “Don’t cry. Jesus, it’s just baby clothes.”
I look up at her, swallowing the lump in my throat before I talk. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m a little hormonal right now or something.”
She snorts. “Hormonal and running for your life from a Russian gangster. Not a good combination.”
My blood freezes in my veins. How does she know about Pavel and that I’m running from him?
There’s banging out on the porch, and Thibault lets loose a few choice cuss words.
“What are you talking about?” I ask her, suspicious as hell.
“The team has done some digging.”
“What team?”
“My team. Thibault’s team. The security company we work for. We looked into this Pavel guy who came to the hospital. We talked to Holloway.”
“You did what?”
“When my boss, Ozzie, called the NOPD to inquire about Pavel, the chief put him in contact with the detective managing cases involving him. Holloway. We talked to him, and once he learned we had you with us, he let us know you were working with him confidentially. We told him we know where you are and that you’re safe.”
“Why would you do that?” I stand up, my chair scraping the floor as I glare down at her. “And why would he? Our relationship is supposed to be confidential!”
She gets to her feet and glares at me. We’re eye to eye, and if I didn’t have a baby in my arms, I’d be ready to throw down. She looks like she’s ready to lay me flat herself.
“Because. You got involved in my brother’s life for whatever reason—fate, if you want to call it that—and he wants to help you. I don’t agree it’s the best idea for him, but it’s not my call. He tells me he wants to help you, so that’s what I’m doing. We work with the cops all the time. They know us and they trust us.”
“But Thibault doesn’t get to decide that for me.”
She shakes her head. “No, he doesn’t.”
I huff out a breath. “You’re not making any sense.”
She shrugs. “I think I am.”
“You’re telling me you’re helping me without my permission or blessing and in the same breath saying you don’t have the right to do that.”
“Yep.”
“That’s . . . insane.”
“Welcome to my world.” She walks around me to the hallway, stopping just at the threshold. She turns to look at me. “If you survived as long as you have working with that gangbanger, you’ve obviously got street smarts. But having that baby changes everything. You know that. And I don’t think you have a lot of options, so maybe you should consider accepting some of our help while it’s being offered.”
“But I thought you said you were against it.”
“I am. But I respect the hell out of my brother, and he seems to think you’re worth the effort.”
“He told me I’m a lot like you.”
“Poor you.” She walks to the foyer.
“He wants me to spend the night here,” I say loud enough for her to hear.
“Do what you gotta do,” she says as she opens the front door.
I stare into the open space she’s left behind, my thoughts tumbling over themselves. Then I look at the table and the pile of things she brought over for me. I touch the blanket and the clothing, the smell of the freshly laundered items reaching my nose. It reminds me of my grandma. She must have used the same soap as Toni does.
Tears come to my eyes, and Thibault finds me with them dripping down my cheeks.
“Oh, hell. What did she say to you?” He glares down the hallway.
“No, no, nothing.” I reach up and take his elbow. “Listen, I’m really tired. I was going to go to the bus station tonight, but I think I could use a good night’s rest before I do that. Would you mind if I spent one night here?”
He
nods, his face blank. “Sure. No problem. You can take the bedroom at the top of the stairs. Mine is just down the hall.”
“I’m fine on the couch.”
He shakes his head. “Trust me. You’ll want the bed. And you’ll want to have Tee close when he wakes up. My sister brought over one of her bassinets for you to use. You can put it right next to you on the floor.”
“Is that what you were cussing at out there on the porch?”
His smile is sheepish. “No comment.” He looks at the table. “Oh, cool. She brought you some stuff for the baby. I asked her if she had any extra things lying around.”
I hold up the sweat pants. “She brought stuff for me too, although she’s not sure they’ll fit.”
“I can go out and get you something from Target now if you want.”
I shake my head. “No, that’s fine. I’m fine, really. I’m going to go to bed now anyway. I’m sure I’ll be up all night, so I might as well make it an early one.”
He nods. “Me, too. That medication they gave me at the hospital is kicking my butt.” He pulls out his cell phone. “Are you sure you don’t want to call anyone?” He holds the cell out toward me. “This one has an untraceable chip in it if you want to use it.”
“That’s okay,” I say. “I have my own phone.”
Thibault turns into a statue for a few seconds. “What?” he finally asks.
“I said I have my own phone. Is that a problem?”
He clenches his jaw a few times. “I’m an idiot.”
I frown. “Excuse me?”
“Can I see your phone?”
“Sure.” I go into the living room, anxiety growing. “I don’t see what the issue is, though. If you’re worried about my phone being a problem, I don’t think you need to.”
“Why’s that?” he asks, hobbling behind me.
I dig through my purse until I locate the small black cell phone. I put it in his outstretched hand, not bothering to check the texts that are surely there. “It’s not a smartphone. It doesn’t have GPS or any of those things that make it traceable.”
He pulls the back off the phone unit and slaps it on his hand, making the battery pop out. “Any phone with a SIM card is traceable.”
My blood runs cold. “What? Are you serious?”
“Yes. If Pavel has the technology, he could at least triangulate your position by pinging signals off the nearby cell towers. It’s not generally a technology the public can buy off the shelf, but it’s available on the black market.”
My heart skips a few beats. “I don’t think he does, though. He never said anything about it to me. I never saw him use anything like that with anyone else, either.”
“I don’t want to risk it. My sister lives right over there.” He glances up through the front window. “And she has two little kids.”
“Okay. I guess that’s fine. Feel free to destroy the SIM card, too, if you want. I have a backup of my phone numbers anyway.” Not that there’s anyone from my life I’ll want to contact after I leave here. Except Alexei, of course, but having his phone number isn’t going to help me, since he stopped answering my calls weeks ago. I’ll worry about making sure he’s okay after I’m safe. I won’t let Alexei down. I can’t. He has no one but me to watch out for him, because his cousin Pavel doesn’t give a hoot about him. It’s why he was at my place so often. My heart feels bruised over having to leave the poor guy behind. He won’t understand why I left.
Thibault pulls out the SIM card and swings on crutches into the kitchen, where he puts it in the microwave and zaps it until it sparks and melts.
“Damn, you don’t mess around.” I’m almost mesmerized by the light show. It’s like my life is going up in smoke. The melting plastic stinks. So very appropriate.
“Better to be safe than sorry.” He pulls it out with tongs and drops it into his garbage disposal. Turning on the water, he runs the motor for an extra-long time, grinding the plastic up into bits.
I feel terrible for causing him to worry, although I really, truly don’t think Pavel could find me using that stupid flip phone. It’s the reason I bought it in the first place. I’d seen him track other girls down with an app he put on their smartphones. He gave me one of those phones too, but I always managed to lose it. He finally told me to buy the flip one because he said I was too scatterbrained to be trusted with something valuable. It was one of the few triumphs I enjoyed under his thumb, so it sucks to know that he could defeat me by using it to find me anyway.
“Sorry for the trouble. Maybe I should go to the bus station now instead of staying the night.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says as he types something on his phone. “The card is dead now. Staying here for the night isn’t going to change anything.”
“Are you sure?”
Thibault looks me in the eye, all seriousness. “If he started a search of your signal, it’s already done. We’ll keep our eyes and ears open, but I really don’t think he’s going to do anything tonight. It’s hard finding a needle in a haystack. He’ll need more time to find you than one day.”
“Are you sure?”
He nods, all businesslike.
“Will you tell your sister?”
He holds up his phone, which has texts on the screen. “I already did. And her husband.” He pauses. “What about a computer? Do you have any other electronics with you?”
I shake my head. “No. Just my purse with my wallet and basic stuff in it. Nothing electronic at all.”
“What about the data you’re giving to Holloway? Did you bring that?”
“No. I don’t have any of it on me.”
Thibault rubs his head, leaving his hand in his hair. “Does that mean you need to get back to the place where it is?”
“No.”
He’s waiting for my explanation, but I’m not ready to give that information to anyone. He’s obviously concerned for my welfare, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to give him everything he wants just because he thinks he needs it. The less he knows about my situation, the better. I can’t believe I’ve already told him so much. And Holloway is going to get an earful and a half from me for blabbing to Ozzie or whatever his name is about our arrangement. That jerk needs to go back to detective school or something.
“Okay.” Thibault starts to say something else, but stops himself. “Uh . . . yeah. So, I’m going to bring these things upstairs for you. If you hear me cussing again, just plug your ears.”
The stressful moment has passed, and I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Okay. Thanks.” I move Tee to my shoulder. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Thibault limps out of the kitchen, and I sit quietly, letting my brain buzz through the events of the last few hours. Banging sounds and frustrated mumbles from the hallway barely break through the activity going on in my head.
My escape from Pavel’s clutches is only temporary. Maybe I’m just being overly paranoid, but I’m going to assume he has what he needed to track me down by following my phone, and that, as Thibault surmised, he’s going to start looking for me tomorrow. That means he’s probably going to have a friend or two at the bus station in town and possibly people paid off at the local cab companies who will contact him if someone looking like me with a baby gets a lift anywhere. That also means I need to find an alternate ride to another town where I can catch some longer-range transportation, like a bus or train.
I hate to admit this to myself, but it seems like Thibault is my only hope of staying safe right now. For tonight, he’s offered me his home. Tomorrow he said he’d take me to Target and the bus station. The idea of asking him for a ride to Baton Rouge or Lafayette makes me feel horrible, like I’m taking advantage of him after I’ve already done him and his family enough harm. But what other choice do I have? Detective Holloway comes to mind, but I worry if I go to him first and he forces me to deliver on our deal, I’ll no longer have any leverage to make him help me out. He might even insist I stay nearby to be a witness or
whatever. I can’t trust that man anymore.
No . . . I need to be far away when I contact Holloway so that everything can happen on my terms. New Orleans feels like a trap now. I need to put this town in my rearview mirror as soon as possible. As soon as I get some sleep. My eyelids feel like they’re made of lead. Thibault shows up at my back and startles me with his touch.
“Hey. You sleeping sitting up?” he asks, his hand on my shoulder.
I shake my head to get it back online. “Yeah. Maybe.” I yawn. “What time is it?”
“Almost nine. Your room is ready. It’s at the top of the stairs. I put a towel on your bed in case you want to take a shower. The bathroom is right next door. And my room’s at the end of the hall if you need anything. Just shout if you do.”
I nod. “Okay.” I stand, shifting the baby to a more comfortable position. My arm is half-asleep. “Thanks, Thibault. For everything. I’m really sorry to be such a pain in the butt.”
He backs up on his crutches. “No, don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help.”
I move off down the hall. When I get to the bottom of the stairs and look up, his voice stops me.
“Mika?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry you’re going through this . . . That this is happening to you.”
I rest my hand on the banister. “Yeah, well, my grandma always said you make your bed and then you have to lie in it. I’ve got no one to blame but myself.”
I hear his crutches coming down the hallway as I mount the stairs. “You’re too hard on yourself.”
“Hello, Pot,” I say with a sad smile. “Meet Kettle.”
“Nice to meet you, Kettle,” he says, his voice so soft I almost miss it.
I go into the bedroom and close the door behind me and Baby Tee, a smile battling to come out and remove my frown. Even in my darkest hours the light sometimes slips through. That’s what’s happening here, today in Thibault’s home. I would have been on the street in a hospital gown if it weren’t for Thibault and Toni. I imagine my grandmother looking down on me and telling me that I shouldn’t run so fast from people who are trying so hard to help me.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN