RETRACE

by Ehrlich, Sigal

  I pop a pill, down it with water, then bob my head. “I’m fine, just a minor headache. Have you heard from Reeves today?”

  Little creases form in Jake’s forehead. “Nope. Trouble in paradise?” The side of his mouth twitches.

  “No, paradise is fine. I just didn’t, umm, well, nothing really.”

  “So you two are serious, huh? He’s a good guy…” Jake’s features morph a shade graver. “He’s a great guy.”

  “Yes.” I answer on a breath. “He is.”

  “He’d probably deprive me of my next breath if he ever heard I said this, but take it easy on him, he’s been through a lot.”

  I nod, a whole new seed of sympathy blooms in me toward Jake.

  “The last thing I’d do is hurt him in anyway. I care about him very much,” I say, countering Jake’s intent look. Our intense moment breaks as Jake lifts his feet from the table and accidently knocks over his bottle.

  “Shit,” he swears under his breath. The water spills all over, forming a little pond on his desk, drowning some scattered papers. He makes his way to the door and calls over his shoulder, “wait up, there’s something I want to tell you.”

  I try to save some of the floating documents when I get a text message. My heart rockets to my throat, saturated with emotions, when I read the content of the message.

  Nia, I love you. Reeves.

  I blink at the phone, then blink again. I don’t think there was anything I wanted more than for Reeves to tell me these three little words. “Tell” being the key word. Goosebumps raise my skin and my heart spirals around my ribcage as I press send, trying to call him. Confusion takes over when I learn that his phone is off again. When the muddle wears off I check the message again to find out it was sent from an unregistered number. What’s going on?

  “Nia… Nia?” Jake’s voice invades my musing. I blink at him with everything Reeves dominating my mind. He gazes at me while pressing a stack of paper towels to the wet mess on the table. “You all right?” He asks.

  “Yeah, yeah, do you mind if I make a short call?” Jake slants his head toward the back of the room, to a small pantry.

  Still fogged by the message, I murmur a quiet, “thanks,” and step away. Jake turns to sink into his chair, discarding the soaked papers into a bin under his desk. I shift to stand with my back to the room when I try Reeves’ number again, and again.

  “You two don’t answer my calls now?” My heart jumps and I jolt back to face the room at the sound of the raspy, loud voice. The combination of the gravity and fury that’s barked at Jake makes me flinch. From where I stand I can see Jake staring with mild confusion while stretching his hand for his mobile.

  The man, wearing a perfectly fitted dark suit and an intimidating glare gazes back at Jake, rigid. Jake studies his phone for a short beat and before he is able to comment, the man adds in an artic tone, “Where is Mitchell? Where. The fuck. Is Mitchell?”

  “What do you mean?” Jake’s voice counters with his own bite of chill. My breath is held at the air of concern lacing his words.

  “I don't want another one of my boys’ brains blown aw…” says the man who stops short once he notices me. Jake’s head slowly turns to follow the guy’s eyes and stills on me.

  “That’s Nia, Reeves’ girl,” Jake says, not bothering to tell me who I was just introduced to.

  “Have you spoken to him in the last few hours?” Asks the picture of authority and intimidation.

  I shake my head, words fail me as panic starts spreading through me, another one of my boys’ brains blown…

  “Did you have any contact with him today?”

  “Nia, it’s important,” Jake says, the look on his face telling me he knows something I don’t.

  “Hmm, I left his apartment this morning.” My fingers wrap tightly around the phone in my hand till the plastic bites into my flesh. “And haven’t spoken to him since…”

  “I see.” Narrowed blue eyes burn into me as though trying to get inside my deepest thoughts. I hug my waist, in a way, trying to protect myself from the menacing stare.

  I lower my gaze to the floor, having an inner debate whether I should mention the text I just got. Jake seems to trust this guy, perhaps I should say something.

  “What is it?” Jake’s voice reaches me, low and urging. I send him a wary glance.

  “Miss, if you care about your man you better speak up.”

  “Hunter?” Jake sends him a bothered look.

  Hunter? Hunter. Reeves and Jake mentioned the name a few times before.

  My voice shakes as I tell Jake, “he sent me a message about five minutes ago.” The palpable sigh of relief heaved from both of the gentlemen mouths’ dazes me, while the weight of their worry seeps into my recognition.

  “Can I see this message?” Hunter extends his hand forward, leaving it hanging, demanding. I take a few steps, followed by the men severe stares on me. Cautiously, I hand my phone to him and bite my lips.

  He gives the phone one short peep, another my way, and says, “from a burner.” Jake’s silent curse tugs at my nerves.

  “Wha… t’s… wrong?” I stammer, begging with my eyes for Jake to let me know what kind of trouble Reeves might be in.

  “Nia,” Hunter says, both Jake and I turn to look his way. “I need to talk to Jake alone, can you please make sure to call Jake if there’s any signal from Reeves?”

  “Can you please tell me what’s going on?” My hand moves to my chest, unconsciously trying to calm the painful thuds.

  “We have a reason to believe he might be… somewhere he should not be.”

  I twist my lips in unconcealed scorn, offended by Hunter’s vague brush-off. I open my mouth to protest when Jake interferes, making me close it right back. “I know how to reach you if needed.” Very clearly dismissing me.

  “Jake, can you at least promise to let me know if he contacts you?” Jake’s jaw tightens but he still nods affirmation.

  My posture and mood fall free in complete harmony as I make my way out of the room. One of them closes the door behind me. Making my way to the bar, my head throbs with pain and anxiety. I rub my temples, processing the last few minutes.

  Although they tried not to include me in whatever they were discussing, they were clear about Reeves being in some kind of danger. Inwardly, I shudder at the thought of something happening to him. At the same breath I convince myself not to take my imagination into any dark places, as I’m not sure I’d be able to come out, whole.

  “Hey, Nia.” Alex waves my way, momentary pulling me out of the ring of worry tightening around me. I nod at her and shortly join her and a couple of friends of hers I haven’t had the chance to meet yet. They talk around me as I gape ahead, warming a cold drink in my tight hold. I hear their voices pass through me but don’t really listen to what’s being said. My attention is fixated at the hall leading to Jake’s office. My mind is set on waiting for Hunter to leave so I’ll be able to try and talk Jake to telling me what’s going on.

  My head jerks up as I see both men walk through the bar tables’ maze. I try to catch Jake’s eyes but he seems absorbed inside his own mind. Jake leans to tell Eileen something and not long after Hunter pushes the exit door open, leaving with Jake in tow. The looks on their faces blow another hit right in the middle of my stomach.

  A familiar plaguing feeling starts spreading its vines of venom through my bloodstream, and without much attention to Alex or anyone at the table, I stand up with a start, needing to get away. I run out of the bar, hugging myself, rapidly passing café’s and stores, rushing to get behind my closed door. Behind my bathroom closed door. Everything in my peripheral view becomes a blur as tears gloss my eyes. With the last bit of hope, I knock at Reeves’ door. I wait for some stressful, long minutes, but he doesn’t answer. At this point I need his breath inside me, I need it desperately, so I could breathe.

  Next to the door leading to my apartment is when I become hollow, preparing myself for what’s next to come. I
rummage through my bag for my key. Voices in my head whisper of fear, of loss, of Patrick, of Reeves.

  I narrow my eyes to lead the way through my dim living room and stagger back. I’m paralyzed by the vision in front of me. I’m glued to the floor and I’m afraid to blink, to blink him away. He sits on the sofa, in a halo of weak evening light. He raises his face that’s buried in his hands to look my way. Through the murky space I notice that his eyes are gleaming with pain and my heart collapses down into my stomach, pulling at every emotion in me. I suppress the tears in my throat as I gape at him.

  He stands up and as though I’m about to disappear into thin air, he quickly strides toward me with fast, determined steps. My heart is drumming so wildly it sends my blood viciously rushing through my veins. As soon as Reeves reaches me, his eyes melt into mine. In hurried, anxious motions he threads his fingers through my hair and gazes at me as if I am the only thing that can save him. His lips crash to mine, and I’m torn deep inside as I feel the moisture on his bristled cheek. His kiss leaves me breathless. It contains so much gloom, desperation, and… hope.

  “I love you,” he says to my mouth, pulling me deeper into his hold.

  “I love you,” I quietly say back, saturated with emotions I can hardly contain.

  “Are you okay, are you hurt?” I run my eyes over him, searching, not even sure what I’m looking for. “Jake and Hunter, they said you might…”

  Reeves breaks my words. “I didn’t, I couldn’t.” He kisses me once more. “I couldn’t lose you.”

  Epilogue

  Nia

  Six months later

  “God, ouch!” I cry and bite my lips, breathing through the sharp pain.

  “Ssshhh…” Reeves attempts to sooth me. “You're kind of loud, babe.” He cranes his neck to look at me. “I warned you it’s going to be uncomfortable, try to relax.”

  “Uncomfortable? It. Freaking. Hurts!”

  “Loosen up, babe.”

  “Stop babe-ing me! I told you, it hurts! And stop smirking!” I chide. “It’s not fair you’re the only one enjoying it.” I take a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Ouch, ouch!”

  “We can’t stop now,” he says, a hint of plea in his eyes. “Why did you ask for it in the first place, really? It was your idea.” A bud of a smile roots on his lips. “So try to relax your muscles and enjoy the ride!”

  “For us… For our happy,” I say and send him a thin smile, the only one I can produce under the continuous piercing pain.

  “You rock!” He winks at me, his full blown smile, almost blinds me.

  I gaze at this heart quickening smile and go back to a similar smile that initiated this “lovely” discomfort.

  It’s one of our lazy weekends. I don’t think we’ve got out of bed for two days. Only in cases of emergency, of course. Opening the door for the fast-food delivery guy or attending nature callings. Oh, and there was a shower or two somewhere in the middle. But that was kind of it, the rest of the time it was Reeves’ comfy bed, and us…

  I’m leisurely lying with my head resting on Reeves’ abs, reading a book, enjoying tranquillity in its calmest form. I squeal when without any prior warning I find myself flipped over to be straddled atop heavenly filled boxer-briefs.

  “A date!”

  “What?” I frown at Reeves who looks as excited as I’d be if they ever invent calorie free ice cream.

  “How about today?”

  The creases on my forehead multiply.

  “I found the date.”

  “Huh?”

  “You said you wanted a date that would make you smile each time you thought of it. So how about today?” Reeves grins at me, a full blown Reeves smile. Heavy duty material. My lips pull up at the side, said grin comes highly contagious, what’s a girl to do?

  “It’s great… Today is great. Can you start making sense, though? I can’t deal with crazy… I’ve only had one cup of coffee.”

  He props his arms on the bed and leans forward to kiss me again, utterly elated. “The date in which I told you I’ll be asking you to spend the rest of your life with me in the far future. Our happy date.”

  A layer of traitorous happy tears cover my eyes.

  “I love this date,” I say in bliss, peppering his face with endless, tiny kisses.

  “We’re done.” The pierced guy that’s been hunched above me for the last half hour says. I thank him and carefully observe the dark roman numbers now decorating the inside of my wrist.

  “I love it!” I beam and turn my head to the person sitting on the chair beside me, the person who just got the same date inked to his skin, my boyfriend, my, according to the date imprinted on me, future fiancé. He smiles back, there’s an air to his eyes that wordlessly tell me just how much he loves me.

  As we leave the tattoo studio, Reeves tugs me to a nearby wall. Facing me, the points of our shoes touching, he narrows his eyes at me. With a smile I can’t seem to wipe off lately, I counter his pointed stare. He slowly shakes his head.

  “I can’t believe I’ve let you mark your skin.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “But, damn, if it’s not the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. A linkage to me, permanently.” He takes my bandaged wrist in his hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the white cotton. “You’re doomed…” He chuckles. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

  “Same goes to you, love.” I blink at him, teasingly.

  He dots small kisses over my lips and jaw. “Let’s go home, I want you in bed wearing nothing but our date.”

  Epilogue

  Reeves

  Six months later, Fortaleza, Brazil

  In one of our last sessions, before I decided to, well, take a break from… everything, Dr. Barnes asked me to read the definition of the word “closure” out loud.

  “A situation or occurrence in which something closes forever,” I read as requested.

  “Right,” said the shrink I’ve known for a few years now, one who I saw on a on and off basis. “Off” outweighing the “on” tenfold. The first time I stepped into his small, somewhat dull, cream walled office, was after the Erie Group case was closed. After Hunter twisted my arm, threatening he’ll stick me in an office with mountains of mundane secretarial work if I don’t start therapy. Gotta love the man and his delicate ways. None of us, at the time, not me, not the head doctor, nor Hunter, thought I’d retire less than a month later, both from therapy and the Bureau.

  Dr. Barnes coughed. “In which something closes forever,” he repeated after me. “Would it have closed it forever, Reeves? Do you still believe it would have? Do you have any regrets about not doing what you really wanted to?”

  I stared ahead through the peeling frame of the wide window at the grey late-autumn sky. “No,” I said with grit. The doctor nodded. “I think that how it eventually played out was the more realistic closure I needed.”

  Exactly four and a half months after I’ve retraced my steps back from the premises of the old factory where A.Z.’s new cell was operating, and left for Hunter’s people to do what they do best, I finally had my closure. A closure in which justice was made. A closure where A.Z. was read his rights and will decay in prison. A closure where I am a free man, literally and figuratively, able to start a life with a cleaner conscious and my girl.

  Nia’s voice pulls me back to the present. “There’s nothing I’d want more, and anyway we’ve been practically living together already.”

  My eyes trail from her mouth to her joyfully shining eyes. My lips slowly pull up at the notion of how easily she’d agreed to move in with me when we get back home.

  “You know I don’t do sleeping without you anyway.”

  I lean in to press my mouth to hers. When she parts her lips for me and her tongue enthusiastically takes over control, my hands urge to touch her, all over. Soft, delicate neck skin, swell of the most amazing set of tits, ass, her round, perky ass. Her hands move to my neck and I shift my weight to lay her back onto the mattre
ss. I settle between her legs, sliding my hand under her loose shirt.

  “Reeves,” she utters breathily, “we can’t.” She pulls back. I groan, leaning deeper into her. “Reeves,” Nia scolds through a moan. She jolts back, flushed and bothered and supremely beautiful. She shakes her head. “They are still up.”

  Reluctantly, I flip to the side and slump my head onto the pillow next to her. Nia watches me with a hint of a smile. My face radiates playful annoyance as I point with my hand toward the tent at the crotch of my sweats. Nia’s eyes follow the gesture, and she lets out a light giggle.

  “Shower to your left, for cold water turn the handle on the right,” she says and my lips break into a smile as I grab her by the waist and settle her atop where she wants me to pour cold water.

  “Reeves,” she says my name through a laugh. “C’mon, my parents are right below us.”

  “Okay, okay, one last kiss, c’mere you,” I rasp.

  “Now.” Nia pats my chest. “I’m going down to join my parents. As much as I hate to see great things go to waste, you get the situation in your boxers down and join us.” She winks and closes the door behind her. I beam at the shut door, and sink my head back onto the pillow. I crane my neck to survey the room, again. Soft buttery tones, many dancing keepsakes and touches of a younger Nia.

  We’ve been visiting Nia’s parents for a week now. Nia finally reconciled with them. A long talk, tears and hugs concluded months of pain, anger and detachment. A week in which I got to peek into Nia’s past, and had the pleasure of getting to know her parents.

  We’ll celebrate Christmas together in a couple of days and then I’ll be leaving for a week by myself. I’m leaving for the trip, a short version though, I was planning to have over three years ago, after we were supposed to take a break. Me to travel or disappear somewhere in nature and Ben to be with his future fiancé. Finally, I’m taking that break. I’ll be trekking in the Panatal region here in Brazil, the world’s largest tropical, most amazing, wetland area. It’s not the best time of year to do so, if you are not so much into massive rainfalls and mosquitoes. I think I’ll survive some water and a few winged insects, I did, after all, survive worse. Nia will meet me right after in Rio for our last week before we head back home.