Blue Baby

by Arnold, Carolyn

  But he sensed the truth behind her drinking. Maybe it was the advantage of knowing the woman aside from this evening. Her scars were beneath the surface, and she was about to make another stupid mistake with one, or more, of these men.

  Her name was Penny, and she didn’t realize her own beauty. She also failed to appreciate how her smile could light a room and draw people to her. She was a sincere, genuine, down-to-earth person. Her smile showed teeth but not in an awkward, unnatural way. It cast a spotlight on her.

  His heart was pounding as he approached her. The men’s laughs and sexist remarks singed his ears and festered his bubbling anger. Two of them had arms around her—one on the left, one on the right. The third was flagging down the bartender for another round of shots.

  She was laughing, but the sadness, it was there, tattooed in her eyes. Her expression of glee never touched them, having no power between the dulling of the alcohol and her heartbreak to do so.

  “Penny,” he said.

  She turned quickly, seemingly latching onto any hope presented to her in this pit of debauchery. She smiled and hopped off her stool.

  The men sneered at their competition. What they didn’t realize was that he wasn’t the competition. He was the victor. She would be going home with him, not any of them. The familiarity factor, his charm, his gift, made it inevitable.

  She touched his arm, initially a flirtatious endeavor, but it turned into a need for him to balance her. How many shots had she had?

  He fed her arm through his, laying the palm of her hand on his forearm. “I’ve got you.”

  She flashed another smile. This one reached the edges of her eyes.

  “Why don’t we get you out of here?”

  “Yes, please.”

  The men let out moans. One’s head was small atop his wide shoulders, as if he had been inflated with a pump but the airflow was pinched off at the neck.

  Tiny Head came at them and grabbed Penny’s arm. “Come on, baby, you don’t want to go with him.”

  Anger swelled, adrenaline surged. His vision fixed on Tiny Head with laser precision. His hearing became clearer.

  “Let go of her.” It took all his willpower to squeeze out the four words.

  Tiny Head kept his grip on Penny’s wrist. “And what are you going to do if I don’t?”

  She was writhing now, trying to break free of him. Her resistance, her unhappiness with his touch quivered through her.

  “I will give you to the count of three,” he said.

  One of Tiny Head’s friends came up from behind him. “Then what are you going to do?”

  The third stood to his side cracking his knuckles. They were hungry for a fight, but they didn’t know at whom they were aiming their machismo. If they did, they wouldn’t have started this. They would have left well enough alone.

  “I’m three drinks in with her. She’s not going anywhere.” Tiny Head gave her arm another tug.

  Everything flashed white. His vision sharpened. His mind assumed control, instinct and raw power combining in a lethal elixir. He knew he was reacting. He knew he was putting damage on the three men, taking them down with little effort. He moved with stealth, reacting without thought, fearing no consequence as one sentence repeated in his head.

  I just want to be happy.

  -

  Chapter 24

  WITH JACK GONE, THE THREE of us shared a quick meal, which was the way I preferred to eat in the first place. None of us brought up Jack or why he left. It’s quite likely our specific assumptions varied but the bottom line was that something was bothering him.

  Zachery seemed to have settled into his seat. He wasn’t going to leave Paige and me alone. Was he suspicious about our relationship? But we were adults, fully capable of civilized conversation. If I had to I’d wait him out. I needed to speak with Paige about Jack. Alone.

  I’d never had a chance to bond with Zachery beyond the job and didn’t know a lot about him. While I sensed the man respected me and had always accepted me as a member of the team, I wasn’t comfortable talking to him—or even in front of him—about Jack’s welfare. Although, it was becoming more natural to consider him as Zach. It was still a conversation suited to have with Paige—familiar territory.

  The clock on the dining room wall read 10:10 and we had finished eating an hour ago. The check folder the waitress had sat down remained on the corner of the table untouched. Zachery opened it and signed off on the receipt. It would be charged to Jack’s room. Zachery pulled out a copy and folded it into four squares. He gave one waning glance to Paige as he rose. “Well, I’m calling it a night.”

  “Me too.” Paige was quick to follow his lead. Too quick. If Zachery didn’t know about our past relationship already, this might be enough to make him suspicious. She didn’t want to be left with me. That much was apparent.

  Paige left the restaurant without looking back at either of us. I expected Zachery to go after her, maybe share an elevator, but he remained standing at the side of the table. His eyes were on me.

  “I’m not exactly sure what’s going on between you two, but you better get it sorted out.”

  The hairs rose on the back of my neck, and my earlobes heated. Who was he to preach to me? I already had a father and one was enough. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Zachery held eye contact without wavering. It drilled home the fact that he knew about my relationship with Paige and that Jack would be none too pleased with the discovery. Zachery’s nickname for me—“Pending”—was actually a welcome thought at this moment. It would mean I was still on my way to becoming a full-fledged agent.

  “I don’t know what it is you think you know.” I heard it in my words, in my tone. I was like a suspect worming his way out of an accusation. And I was failing miserably. “There’s nothing between us now.”

  The waitress brushed by and picked up the check folder. She paid us no attention, but her energy communicated she was pleased we were finally leaving. No doubt management had given her a rough time over how long we had occupied the table. An irony as the crowd had thinned out and no one was waiting to be seated now.

  While my focus had shifted to the waitress, I turned back to Zachery to find him still watching me.

  “Are you sure it’s over? I saw the way you reacted to her going out with the detective last night.”

  Of course. How could I be so stupid? It was my knee-jerk reaction to finding out Paige was spending the evening with Barber. He must have seen my balled fists before I buried them under the table. Right, he bumped my shoe with his.

  “It’s over.” I walked away from him, stepping through the bar area out to the lobby. He followed my strides and stopped beside me. I started my defense. “We did have a—” I stalled. What exactly did we have? A “relationship” would’ve involved a level of commitment, of promise, of talk about the future. My time with Paige had never broached the subject. We spent it focused on the present, normally in a ball of wet skin and heat. With the recollections, my temperature rose.

  “You slept together.”

  Surprisingly, it stung to hear Zachery put it so bluntly. I knew I had feelings for her, but I wouldn’t have equated them with love or even deep attachment. Maybe I was in denial more than I’d realized.

  I nodded.

  “All right. But it’s in the past? You’re not anymore?”

  I expected to see chastisement in his eyes, a snippet of judgment, but neither was imprinted there. Instead, there was sincere concern, and it went beyond the confines of the job. He cared about us as people. It was possible I had just bonded with Zach. I had pictured this conversation going the polar opposite direction of where it was. I thought he was going to threaten to tell Jack and put me in my place as a probationary agent.

  “Brandon?”

  I
shook my head. “It’s over.”

  “As you keep saying.” Zach put his hand on my shoulder. “Watch yourself around Jack. If I noticed your jealousy, you can be certain he did. He won’t tolerate his people sleeping together.”

  All I could do was nod. His warning was fair and appreciated. My sole advantage might be the fact that Jack was preoccupied. While my empathy reached out to him, I was thankful to have his attention off me. I loved my job, and I wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of becoming a full agent—even a beautiful redhead.

  -

  Chapter 25

  MY LEGS TOOK ME TO Paige’s hotel room door, and I knocked softly. I knew I should leave it alone, especially tonight, but I had to know if she knew what was going on with Jack. I heard her hands hit the back of the door and imagined her braced there, up on her tiptoes to look out the peephole.

  “Brandon, what are you doing here?” Her voice was riddled with exasperation.

  “Can I come in?”

  “It’s late. We need to be downstairs for six in the morning.”

  “I’ll be fewer than five minutes, I promise.”

  The dead bolt clunked and the chain slid in its lock. She opened the door and stood to the side so I could enter.

  She was wearing a silk pajama set the color of champagne. The top was a camisole with lace detail on the bodice.

  Maybe this was a bad idea. Apparently I was testing the strength of my resolve.

  The door closed heavily behind us.

  “What are you doing here, Brandon?” she asked me again. She crossed her arms but then unfolded them quickly. She must have realized how the posture had hoisted her bosom. She blushed, disclosing a modesty I didn’t normally bring out in her. She moved past me and pulled a sweater out of her suitcase and put it on.

  “You haven’t unpacked?” I asked.

  “I don’t think we’ll be here for long.”

  We froze in that moment, neither of us saying anything, simply staring at each other. If her mind was like mine it was being bombarded by images and memories.

  She dropped down to sit on the bed and then quickly stood back up. Her arms crossed again, but this time I didn’t get the same view I had earlier. “If you’re here about Sam, then you’re wasting your time.”

  I looked away. This woman angered me despite my best efforts to refute her, to ignore my feelings, to dismiss my instinctual draw to her.

  I forced my gaze back to her. “This isn’t about Sam.” The words barely escaped my throat, even though it was the truth. I had come to ask about Jack, but somehow being in Paige’s vicinity stirred up everything again. Even if all it equated to was a chemical reaction between male and female.

  Paige released her arms, and one of her hands went to her hip as she moved over to the desk and sat in the task chair. It confirmed I wasn’t alone in feeling how I was. It made her weak to be around me, too. But, of course, I knew this. She’d told me numerous times that she loved me—a word I couldn’t bring myself to say in return.

  With the way she was watching me, I had to clarify why I was there. The clock on the nightstand read 11:25 PM. It had taken me over an hour to build the courage to come see her. I had gone back to my room and flipped through mindless sitcoms hoping to settle on one and distract myself. It hadn’t worked. Common sense checked out somewhere during that interval.

  “I’m glad to see you are dating and moving on.” The words came out, but they weren’t the ones I had intended.

  “I’m glad you’re glad, but it’s none of your business.” She was geared to fight, and I didn’t blame her. I actually found myself relating to how she was reacting. It would be no different if the positions were reversed.

  “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  Paige bit her bottom lip. “I know. It’s just…I know you’ve moved on. Becky from Dumfries, right?”

  I needed a place to sit, and since the bed clearly wasn’t an option, I leaned against the dresser the TV was on. “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “Good for you.” She attempted a smile, but it came out as pressed lips in a slight upward arc. “I’d ask if it was serious, but…”

  “But you’d be right, it isn’t. I meant what I said, Paige. I can’t be getting involved in a deep and committed relationship. With you or anyone.” What I didn’t dare say was that if I were to have a meaningful relationship with anyone, or ever give love another shot, it would be with Paige. With the proper motivation, I’d figure a way around the work element.

  “I know. It’s more than the job being in the way,” she said.

  “You’re right.”

  “Why are you here, Brandon?”

  “Do you know what’s going on with Jack?”

  “Oh. No.” She swiveled the chair to face the desk and picked at the hotel notepad. She peeled back one corner and folded it over.

  “You know what’s going on, don’t you?”

  She kept fidgeting with the paper.

  “You can tell me.”

  She stopped all movement and spun around. “If Jack wanted everyone to know, all of us would. Can’t you respect his privacy?”

  “I work with the guy, Paige.”

  “Uh-huh, and so do I. That’s not the point.”

  “What if his head isn’t in this case? It could cost one of us dearly.”

  “Jack is fit for work, don’t you worry. He’s more ready than you would be in his position. Heck, we’ve been in worse shape given all the drama this”—she pointed a finger between herself and me—“whatever it was, causes. I should say whatever it is as it apparently continues to cause us grief.” She got to her feet. “And I don’t know why, Brandon, because I’ve moved on. You’ve obviously moved on.” Her green eyes were reinforced steel. “If it’s not too much to ask, please leave. It’s late, and I need some sleep.”

  There would be no disputing her request. She stood firm, and there was a part of me believing she had, in fact, moved on. Faced with that bitter reality, I wasn’t sure how much I liked the idea. Maybe I did love her? Like that adage goes, If you love someone, you’ll release them, and if they’re yours, they’ll come back. I didn’t want to release Paige, no matter how wrong and unfair I knew it was.

  -

  Chapter 26

  THE MEMORIES CAME IN WAVES. He remembered coming to, the shouting and the screaming. People had been pulling him back from a man with a tiny head. But he hadn’t cared. The image seared in his mind was of Penny standing back, shock on her face, tears falling down her cheeks. Warm, red liquid dripped from his nose. Blood.

  She would have witnessed all of it—how he had brought down the three men. But there hadn’t been so much fear in her eyes as relief that he was okay. She’d seemed to realize the damage to him was minimal and had run over and flung her arms around him, thwarting all the bouncer’s efforts to restrain her.

  In that moment of stark vulnerability, she had made her choice. She had chosen him.

  He had risen to his feet, his head swirling, and he’d taken in the scene before him. He must have blacked out during the scene, responding purely on instinct. There was no other explanation for a man of his size taking on three opponents and coming out without broken bones.

  The bouncer and Penny had argued behind his back.

  “He has to wait for the police,” the man had said.

  “He was protecting me.”

  “Lady, I don’t care. He kicked their asses.”

  He hadn’t cared much for the bouncer’s tone. Had all men forgotten how to treat a lady or had they never known?

  He’d taken her hand and headed for the door. The bouncer had stood in front of him. His stance—legs shoulder-width apart, shoulders back—told him the man had been ready to engage. His eyes had betrayed him, too.

  “Get out of my way.” H
e’d held the eye contact.

  “And what are you going to do if I don’t move?”

  The bouncer had balls, he’d given him that. And if he’d wanted to join the patrons on the floor, by all means.

  He had formed a fist and put it in the bouncer’s face. “I said, move.”

  The bouncer had hesitated but eventually gave in.

  He’d heard the sirens approaching, their wails becoming more pronounced. Then Penny had proven to be his savior. She’d grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction of her car, but leaving in hers wasn’t an option. He’d needed his own.

  He had told her this, and hobbling slightly as a result from the altercation, he’d taken the lead.

  But all this had been hours ago. Now his legs were fine. Now he was lying in bed beside Penny.

  He had proved to be her white knight, her rescuer, but his chivalry was far from over. He would make good on fulfilling the vow he had made to her. He would make her happy.

  Her soft breathing, rasped in her throat, hinted at an oncoming bout of snoring.

  The clock on her nightstand told him it was just after midnight.

  It was the time to make good on his oath.

  He pulled back the sheets and straddled her. She stirred, likely sensing a looming shadow or weight above her, but she never awoke.

  He swiftly placed his hand over her mouth and nose as he shifted his weight to his right knee and positioned his left over her solar plexus. The instant his weight altered to the left, crushing her chest, her eyes flew open. She shook her head, her mortality etched in her irises. She knew this was the end.