by Shyla Colt
“Focus on getting better and getting out of here for me, please.”
I feel his very spirit retreat as he pulls away, straightens, and walks out of the room. A cavern I don’t know how to traverse has formed between us. I wasn’t a parent, and as much as I loved Rolly, I had no inclining of what this must feel like for him ... or Allie for that matter. She blamed me for what happened to Ollie, so I can only imagine what she said about this. Hell, maybe she’s right. I grip the railings of the bed while I fight the urge to break down. That never got anyone anywhere. Step one, get better, get out, and fight like hell for the things that matter most.
I’M PROPPED UP WHEN Detective Kunes enters the room.
“I have to say you look much better than the last time I saw you, Ms. Fleming.”
“I feel better, too.”
“Mr. Hemnway tells me you plan to testify in the case.”
“I want them for all they’ve done.”
He nods. “Our case is strong with your testimony, even if it’s just you.”
“What?”
“Mr. Hemnway hasn’t returned any of our calls. We’ve counted him out.”
Gritting my teeth, I shake my head. “He’s burying his son.”
“I understand that. I sympathize with him. A man isn’t meant to bury his child. It should always be the other way around. But our lawyers can’t build a case around someone who might be a no show.” The detective shakes his head, and expression I can’t quite read upon his face. “We advised him he’d be safest under our protection, but he declined.”
“He said no?”
“No, but I took his silence as answer enough.”
Images of him lying dead in a pool of his own blood fill my head. I hadn’t talked to him in days. Efia kept me posted remotely. I know he’d buried Rolly, so I’d backed off and let him have his solitude. Stupid.
“And if he changed his mind?”
“Then we’d be more than happy to accommodate him. We don’t want this guy to walk.”
“Detective Kunes, I need a day. Twenty-four hours and I’ll do whatever it is you’d like me to do until this thing goes to trial. But I can’t leave him out in the wind right now.”
He sighs. “You think you can get him on board?”
“I will get him on board.”
“Twenty-four hours and not a moment more. You cannot return to your home or that of any of your relatives during this time period.”
“I understand.”
“And you’ll be followed every minute around the clock.”
I grit my teeth. “Okay.”
“Tomorrow you’ll leave to go into custody at eight a.m. sharp.”
“Happily.”
“I’ll inform the officers outside the door.”
“Thank you, Detective Kunes.” He walks away, and I grab the phone off the nightstand. I hit speed dial and wait. The phone rings until it goes to voice mail. My anxiety spikes. Houston will know. I dial up his best friend.
“Quinn?”
“Hey, Houston, I haven’t been able to get a hold of Ollie, and I’m worried.”
“Are you still in the hospital?”
“Yes, for maybe another hour or so.”
“He’s uh ... He’s not doing too well. I know how good he can be at hiding things from people, and he pulled his shit together enough to visit you, but he’s ... he’s on a bender. Every time I see him, he’s drunk and dark, and I don’t know how to help him. I have my hands full over here, and he’s pushing me away at every turn.”
“Houston, how bad are we talking?”
“Force him to shower and eat bad. I’m worried if we let this go too far for too long, we won’t get him back.”
“Can you tell me where he is?”
“I’m not sure you should head over there, Quinn.”
“Houston, you tell me he’s on his last leg, and you think I’m going to watch him implode from afar?”
“He’s not himself.”
“I can handle it,” I snap.
He sighs. “He’s at the Omni at Park West, room two-eleven.”
“Thank you, Houston.”
“You can thank me by not holding what comes out of his mouth against him when he sobers up. He’s lashing out. It’s kept everyone except me and his father at bay.”
“I have a thick hide.” My poor Ollie is in a tailspin.
“You’re going to need it. I’m here if you need muscle.”
“You know about the case we have coming up. Don’t be alarmed if we fall off the radar. It’ll be for protection purposes.”
“Thank God. I’ve been worried about them coming back to finish the job, but every time I bring it up, he shuts me down.”
“He would. I think he blames himself for all of it.”
“How?”
“I don’t know ... for the same reason I feel guilty that he got shot, I guess. Human emotions don’t always make sense. I need to go. I’ll keep you posted as much as I can.”
OLLIE
The knock on the door makes my head hurt even worse. Can’t the maid see the do not disturb sign? I roll onto my back and stare up the ceiling. The knocking continues. I groan.
“I don’t need any towels,” I croak.
The knock returns. Jesus, Houston. Don’t you have a family to tend to? The thought rips open the festering wound, and I growl. Pushing myself to my feet, I stumble toward the door. I peer out the eye hole, wishing it was a gangster on the other side ready to put me out of my misery. How can I live knowing I got my son killed? I gasp and shake my head to clear away the liquor when I spot Quinn. Dressed in black tights and an oversized, off-the-shoulder cream sweater, she’s a fucking vision. How is she here? I open the door cautiously. Maybe the mixture of alcohol and no sleep are finally getting to me.
“Quinn?”
She brushes past me and walks inside like she owns the place. Yeah, I’m not dreaming. I glance down the hall and spot two men in gray suits by the elevator.
“Who?”
“I had to bring security detail. It as part of the deal.”
Scrubbing my face with my hand, I try to piecemeal together her words. “What?”
“My deal with Detective Kunes. In twenty-four hours, I’m officially going into protective custody, and you’re coming with me.”
“What?” I snort. “No, I’m not.”
“If you aren’t, then I’m not, which means that son of a bitch gets to walk away scot-free. Is that what you want?”
I shrug my shoulders. How fucked up would it be for me to be safe when I didn’t do the same for Rolly? I should suffer the same fate.
“What the hell, Oliver?”
“You can’t begin to understand what I’m going through.”
“So, tell me.”
I snarl. “What do you want me to say? That I hate myself and I can barely stand to look in the mirror? That I don’t deserve to be protected when I failed my son so miserably? You told me over and over again about the risks, but I didn’t listen. And look where it got us. All of us. I damn near lost you both that night. Because of what? My pride? Fuck.” I yank at my hair and stumble across the room, collapsing on the couch. “Let me get what I deserve.”
“No. None of this is on you. Isn’t that what you told me?” She falls to her knees in front of me.
I look over her shoulder, avoiding the hypnotic pull of her gaze. “Your case is different.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Did you lose a child, Quinn?” I bark.
I feel her flinch. “No. I get that you’re upset. You want to rage at the world? Do it. You want to grieve? I’m by your side. But if you want to destroy yourself and do things I know you’ll live to regret later, I have to speak up.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t need to.”
“Damnit, Quinn, I don’t want to be saved. Just leave me.” The words bounce off the high ceilings.
“Too bad. Because I’m just as st
ubborn as you are, and I aim to make them pay for the shit they pulled. Right now we’re marionettes dangling on strings. They pull, and we jerk. They change the background settings, and we’re fucked.” She slaps the couch cushions beside me “No more, Oliver.”
I peer down at her and see the determination. She believes what she’s saying. I wish I could, too.
“Don’t you get it yet? We’re powerless against them. They have kamikaze humans who don’t mind exploding on contact.”
“I refuse to believe that. We’ve let them have enough power over us.”
I shake my head. There was a time when I’d believe her, but now I’m too damn tired. So weary the very core of my being hurts. Every day I go to sleep, I wake up to a nightmare when I don’t remember Rolly is gone. Then it all comes back, and I relive everything. I feel like my brain is going to explode.
“Quinn, I’m not a whole man anymore. The Ollie you knew is dead, and he’s never coming back.”
“Maybe not, but there are pieces of him that still exist under the surface. I can see them. No matter how you try to suppress him.” She grips my shirt lapels and yanks. “Now we’re going to get you in the shower because you stink and I won’t even try to guess how much alcohol you have swimming through your veins. This’ll help sober you up.”
I swat her hands away. “I don’t want to be sober. This is the only way I can function. Through a fucking haze. Because what I feel is a never-ending wave of pain, guilt, and remembering all at the same time. Would you want to be on the receiving end of that?”
She shakes her head as the tears stream down her face. I’m numb, angry, and using everything inside of me not to bite her head off.
“I-I am so, so sorry.” Her shoulders shake as she rests her head against my forehead and cups the back of my head. Her gentleness breaks the wall I’ve built up inside of me.
Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her tight. “Roland’s dead and I’m never going to see him again.” The words spill forth, and I can’t stop them. “Oh my God, what am I going to do without my little boy? He never hurt anyone. Why him? He was going to do great things. Now I’ll never see any of it. He was the best thing I ever did in my entire life, and now he’s just gone.” I slump against her, and we sink to the ground together.
I purge until there’s nothing left. My stomach rolls, and I pull away and dash to the bathroom. I hit my knees and empty my stomach. She’s there, an angel I don’t deserve with a cool washcloth on the back of my neck. I flush the toilet, and she wipes my mouth and runs a bath. I hate to see myself through her eyes. I’m a pitiful excuse for a man. I couldn’t even keep my family safe. Family. As she strips me down, I realize I count her as that. So I let her scrape me up off the floor and get me into the pool of warm water. She touches me gently as she washes me down and I mentally cling to her. I failed Rolly. I can’t do the same with her, too. I can’t walk away until this is all said and done and she’s safe. I cling to the mission.
She sheds her clothes, adds more hot water, and lays on my chest. The skin to skin contact makes me think maybe one day things will be okay.
I ROLL HER ONTO HER back and pull her onto my lap, careful to remain gentle. She presses her palms to my chest and rolls her hips, grinding into my crotch.
“Are you okay to do this?” I ask shakily.
“I guess so, ’cause we’re going to. It’s the last chance we’ll have before we have permanent guests.” She wraps her arms around my neck, and toys with the hair at my nape. Her touch is a calming agent among the chaos living in my brain. I pull her close and run my hand up her back, careful not to press into the bandages I helped her change. We’ve reversed our roles. Now I’m the mental wreck, and she’s the wounded one in need of care. I massage her neck and flinch as she reaches down and palms me, stroking my cock.
I shiver when she grips my base and eases down onto me. I grab her hips, helping her lift and lower as I watch her full breasts bounce. Her hair falls around her slender face and her full lips part. Arching her back, she flexes her muscles. My eyes almost roll back in my head. It’s been weeks since we did this.
Right now she’s my anchor, the only thing that’s keeping me from becoming a ghost and wasting away into nothing. I want to show her all the things I can’t say because the words get caught in my throat. She held me all night, playing the big spoon while I sobered up and slept a dreamless sleep. The love in her eyes is more than I deserve, but I’m greedy, and in desperate need of something good, so I hold it tight between my hands. The base of my spine tingles and I know I won’t last long. She lifts and drops down over, and over. I twitch and go off like a gun, giving her everything I have to offer. She owns what remains of me.
She collapses onto my chest.
“You okay, sassy?”
“I will be once I regain feeling in my legs.”
I smirk as I smooth a hand down her back and peer at her bandage; no leaking and she doesn’t appear to be in pain. I rest my head against her, soaking up the moments.
Suddenly, reality crushes down on me like a boulder. Rolly. My mood shifts and I grow cold from the inside out, retreating back into my shell. I slowly ease her off me, and slip from the bed. Guilt kicks in. How can I be enjoying her when Rolly is six feet deep? My stomach flips as I think of the empty void left behind. How can he be gone? I just kissed him goodnight and celebrated his birthday. My flesh grows chilled and time seems to slow.
“Ollie?”
I blink. “Huh?”
“Are you okay?”
I refocus my attention to the task at hand and the woman staring at me. Clearing my throat, I glance at the clock and read the highlighted, digitized numbers.
“I’m going to get dressed and start packing. I know you said they want us checked out and on the move to our new location by eight o’clock, and it’s seven o’clock now.” Padding over to the couch where my duffle bag sits, I pull out the first fresh outfit I’ve put on since Rolly’s funeral—black jeans, a matching long-sleeved Henley T-shirt, and a pair of black boxer briefs. The muted tones fit my dark mood. I don’t want to invite others to approach me. I slip the outfit on one article at a time.
I hear Quinn moving around behind me, but I can’t force myself to turn and engage her. It’s like I’m viewing life through a fog that makes movement and socialization hard to accomplish. The light she’d shone on me is blocked by the permanent layer of clouds surrounding me. I fold and pack mechanically until my bag is full, and then move into the bathroom with my toiletry bag.
“Are you upset with me?”
Frowning, I turn to face her. “No. Why?”
“You got so quiet. I-I wasn’t sure if maybe it was something I’d done.”
“This is me now, Quinn. The sadness comes and goes in waves, each bigger than the one before it. This is why I shut myself away here. I don’t want to be asked if I’m okay. I’m not. And I won’t be for a very long time. I don’t need to drag anyone else down this hole with me.”
“Yet, here I am, ready to take that ride with you over rough terrain.”
Deep down I appreciate her tenacity. I want to thank her, but my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth. Here in my hotel room, I could block out everything. Cocooned during my liquor-fueled bender, I was a blank slate. I could hardly tell day from the night as the dates blurred together. Now I’m being thrust into a real world environment where my son no longer exists. It’s a pain like nothing I’ve felt before. I’m being eaten from the inside out one bite a time by a million ravenous fire ants.
Peering down at the counter, I grab my toothbrush and other incidentals. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Nothing.” The hurt in her voice is an accelerant.
“I didn’t ask you to be here.”
“I never said you did, Ollie.” The soft-spoken tone crawls under my skin.
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
“No. I wish to God I did.”
I toss a bottle
of travel shampoo across the room. It slams into the wall, and onto the floor. The pop is so satisfying I do it again and again, pitching like I’m trying to win the World Series until my breathing is heavy, my arm aches, and there’s nothing left to throw. Puddles of various liquids coat the floor in small pools. The destruction feeds the rage inside of me and slinks back beneath the surface, satisfied for a time. My chest rises and falls rapidly.
Her eyes are so wide I can see the black rings around her shrunken irises.
“Still along for the journey?”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
For how long. The question goes unsaid as a knock comes at the door. I tense.
“Stay here.”
“Ollie.”
“No. You stay here crouched beside the tub.”
Her lower lip trembles, as she complies. I jog out of the bathroom to the door and peer out the peephole. The sight of two men in black suits allows me to breathe once more. Still suspicious, I hold my breath. Have they changed their contact and decided to blend in?
They knock again. “Open up, Ms. Fleming.”
“Who’s there?” I ask, ready to step in and protect her with my last breath. I couldn’t save Rolly. I’ll be damned if I fail Quinn a second time.
“Officers Carter and Johnson, Mr. Hemnway.” They pull out their black wallets and flash their badges. They look legit and match the names she’d mentioned.
“It’s clear, Quinn. You can come out.”
I open the door and step back, letting them in.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hemngway. We’ll be looking after you for the next month. I understand you’ll be joining us?”
“Yes. I’m all packed. I just need to do one last sweep.” I brush past Quinn on my way to the bathroom, grab a towel, and clean up my mess. It’s not the housekeepers’ job to clean up after my outburst. The release felt good, but I’m embarrassed by my behavior now. After tossing the towel in the sink, I walk out to find Quinn speaking quietly with the officers.
In their late thirties, early forties, neither can be much older than us. I frown at the way the muscular blond is leaning into her and admiring the fit of her T-shirt and jeans. The tall, broad-shouldered jock type with a streak of gray hair looks over at me. I meet his dark brown gaze and nod. It’s no secret we’re involved. I’ve been absent lately, but having them share our space is bringing out my protective instincts. I have very little left to lose. I grab my bag, sling it over my shoulder, and pick hers up off the bed.