One More Time_A Second Chance Romance

by Rye Hart

  “I'm sorry, Nicki,” I said. “I know that's not what you wanted to hear.”

  “I – I love him,” she groaned. “He can't die.”

  “I know you love him,” I said. “And I wish more than anything, that I could tell you otherwise about his condition. I just thought you deserved to know.”

  The tears continued to flow and I could see the reality slowly sinking into her eyes. She suddenly looked – old. Old and tired. Far more so than any fifteen-year old girl should. She was a girl who'd obviously seen far too much in her young life already.

  “Where did you get the heroin, Nicki?”

  She shook her head and wiped the tears away from her face. “That's what that cop was asking me,” she said. “I can't tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if I do, he'll kill my family,” she said, her voice tinged with panic. “He told us he would when he sold it to us.”

  I shook my head. “If you tell me who it is, we can make sure he goes to prison,” I said. “He won't be able to hurt you or your family if he's behind bars.”

  “He said he'd be able to get to us even from prison.”

  I wished I could have told her otherwise, but I knew that some guys had some pull even when they were behind bars. They had friends on the outside who could kill somebody just as easily as they could have themselves. It was the fear of that keeping Nicki from telling me what she knew. Which meant, I had only one way forward – I had to lie to her.

  “That's just not true, sweetie,” I said. “If he goes away – as well as his associates – they won't be able to hurt you.”

  “I want to tell you – for Trevor – but, I can't.”

  “Do you have any siblings, Nicki?”

  She cocked her head and stared at me, seemingly surprised by the change of topic.

  “I have a little sister,” she said. “Lily.”

  I nodded. “Pretty name,” I said. “What if you don't tell me who this guy is and he's allowed to continue selling drugs to kids like you? What if next time though, it's Lily? And what if she ends up like Trevor?”

  I felt like an asshole of the highest order for not just guilt-tripping her, but for using her soon-to-be-dead boyfriend against her to get what I wanted – a name. But, it also didn't negate the fact that what I said is true. What if it were her little sister who stuck a needle in her arm and ended up on a ventilator next time?

  The only way to prevent it was to shut it down at the source – which meant getting a name.

  “She's not going to do drugs,” Nicki said, sounding shocked that I'd even suggest such a thing.

  I looked her in the eye and held her gaze. “I bet you said the same thing about yourself not all that long ago,” I said. “And yet, here you are in my ER. You're lucky that you're not like Trevor right now. Very lucky, Nicki.”

  She looked down at her hands, pricing at lint on the blanket. “I know,” she said softly. “I – I'm scared.”

  “If you cooperate with the police, they can protect you, sweetie,” I said. “And they'll be able to lock this man up, so he can never hurt you again.”

  I could see the torment on her face and the debate raging in her mind. To tell me or to not tell me? That was the question. Several long moments passed and still, she said nothing. So, I decided to force the issue.

  “Nicki,” I said, “you have the power to stop anybody else from ending up like Trevor right now. You can put this man in prison, so he can never sell poison to kids like you, ever again.”

  The silence stretched out between us for several more minutes. She looked at her hands, picked at her nails, ran a hand through her hair, and sat there, shaking her leg beneath the blanket, the fear and indecision on her face more than clear.

  Eventually though, I saw a steely determination rise in her eyes. I saw anger. Rage. Fury. Probably thinking about Trevor and the fact that he was likely going to die in that bed a few doors down.

  “I don't know his real name,” she finally said. “I only know him as Oso.”

  The name rang a bell in my head, though I couldn't place it at that moment. I just knew I knew it from somewhere.

  “He's big,” Nicki said. “Six-five, at least. Wide and muscular. He's got black eyes, long, black hair, and a huge, bushy black beard. He's covered in tats but has this one on his chest – it's of a bear. It takes up most all of his chest.”

  As she described the man, the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place. I just didn't like the picture it was adding up to.

  “You're sure about that?” I asked, hoping I was wrong.

  She nodded. “Yeah, I'm positive,” she replied. “I'll never forget him.”

  I let out a long breath, knowing where I knew the name and the man from – he was part of my father's crew. One of my dad's most loyal and trusted friends.

  Knowing one of my father's friends was behind this troubled me more than I could ever possibly say. A feeling of cold dread and a dark, oppressive rage, radiated through my body as I tried to figure out what I was going to do with all of that.

  Chapter Eleven

  Elijah

  “How much I owe you?” I asked, feeling like I was going to collapse as soon as I walked into my apartment.

  Finding myself in a bind, needing to work, and not knowing what to do with Aubree, I'd turned to Diane for some help. She'd given me the number of a babysitter she trusted. Beth was a college-aged girl who could handle watching the baby while I was at work. Her pay took up a good chunk of my tips most nights, but it was about the best I could do.

  I refused to reach out to Hannah too soon – even for help. Call me stubborn, but I knew she'd just push me away. I wasn't going to play those games anymore. Better to let her come to me on her own time, when she was ready. I wasn't going to force the issue. Not at the moment, anyway.

  Beth pushed her glasses up higher on her nose as she counted the number of hours she'd watched Aubree.

  “Only fifty dollars tonight,” she said.

  Jesus. That was a short night too. I'd only spent a few hours at the bar and Chuck let me cut out early. I had a wad of bills in my hands and counted out the cash, throwing in a tip as well. It was painful to part with that kind of cash, but she was, after all, keeping my child alive for me while I was at work. It was the least I could do.

  Beth was studying early childhood education at school, and as far as I knew, she didn't make a whole lot and college wasn't cheap. Figured a few extra dollars would help a lot – and maybe help keep her free in case I needed to call her last minute.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Beth said, stopping in the doorway. “Aubree was a little warm earlier, but I couldn't tell if she had a fever or not. I couldn't find a thermometer.”

  I ran a hand over my face. Dammit. I pulled out a few more bills and handed them to her.

  “Do you mind picking one up for me?” I asked. “How much do they cost?”

  “Not that much.”

  Beth agreed to run my errand for me, and off she went to the corner CVS. I leaned my head against the front door and sighed. I'd never had to take care of anyone who was sick before – not even my mom. She never took a day off, even when she was sick, and always took care of me when I was younger.

  I had absolutely no clue where to even start. If Aubree had a fever, what did that mean? Should I really be asking a nineteen or twenty-year old college student for parenting advice? It was late, too late to call almost anyone who'd have an answer. The only option I had was to go to the hospital or –

  No, I couldn't call Hannah. Wouldn’t' call Hannah.

  When Beth got back, I gave her more money for the inconvenience. Working in the service industry meant I knew how to tip, and she deserved it. I sent her on her way and read the directions for the thermometer. One good thing was that it wasn't one I'd have to insert anywhere uncomfortable. Well, the ear, sure, but that I could probably manage to handle.

  I followed the instructions, waking Aubree up as I put
the thing in her ear. She stared at me, and I knew something wasn't right. I had no idea how I knew, but I know. There was something about her that was off. She just didn't look like she felt very well at all. Her skin was warm to the touch, and the temperature came back at 100.1.

  I flipped through the tiny instruction manual, and it didn't tell me what that meant. I wasn't even sure I knew what a normal temperature was. With a baby in one hand and my phone in the other, I Googled to see what it meant and what I should do.

  Aubree was getting annoyed with me, squirming, her cries sounding more pathetic than usual.

  “I'm sorry, sweetie,” I muttered, bouncing her gently as I read WebMD.

  My pulse raced, and I couldn't stop thinking the worst. I had no idea what was going on. She was so tiny, so fragile, and she felt warm. Her skin was slowly starting to turn a deep shade of red – although I wasn't sure if was from the crying or from something else.

  I could go to the hospital, but I had no idea how much that would cost. Though, I knew it was going to cost more than I had. But, I had no insurance, no information on her medical history. I was lost there. What if this was all nothing? Did babies get colds? Was I just freaking myself out about something that was completely minor? I didn't know.

  There was one person who would know, and it had been about two weeks since we'd last spoken.

  “Fuck it,” I grumbled.

  I hit the button for Hannah's number and prayed she was off work tonight – and hoping against all hope she wouldn't ignore the call just because it came from me.

  She answered one the second ring. “Eli? Is everything okay?”

  “Aubree has a fever,” I said. The crying was loud enough she could probably hear it over the phone. “I'm not sure what to do – I'm sorry to bother you.”

  “No, don't be,” she said. “I'll be right over.”

  “Even though it's nearly three in the morning?”

  “Of course, Eli. I'm a nurse, it's what I do,” she said.

  I didn't get a chance to thank her before she hung up but knowing that Hannah was on her way instantly made me stress less. She'd know what to do and would be able to help Aubree far better than I could.

  Maybe it was because I wasn't as anxious, but Aubree also seemed to calm down a bit. She looked at me with wide, bright eyes, and then yawned. She calmed down enough to fall back asleep in my arms. Maybe it was true what they said about babies sensing our emotions and taking their cues from us. Maybe all that crying was her feeding off my stress.

  Hell, or maybe there really was something wrong. I wasn't sure I trusted my instincts to figure it out – mainly because when it came to kids, I had absolutely zero instincts. But, Hannah would know. I had no doubt Hannah could tell me if I needed to go to the ER or pick up some medicine at CVS. As much as I hated calling on her like that, I was glad she was willing to come over.

  At least for Aubree's sake, if nothing else.

  ***

  “The fever has already gone down,” Hannah said, resting her hand gently upon Aubree's forehead. “If it goes back up, or goes any higher, I'd rush her to the ER. Just to be safe. But she seems to be okay now.”

  “Hannah, I'm sorry I called you all this way for nothing,” I grumbled.

  “I'm glad you did, Eli. It shows you know when something is wrong with your daughter,” she said.

  She turned to face me, and I couldn't help but notice the deep, dark circles around her eyes. It looked as if she hadn't slept in a while. Hell, that made two of us. Between working and caring for Aubree, I got very little sleep these days myself.

  “Still, I should have handled it myself,” I grumbled.

  I stared down at the sleeping baby, still feeling completely clueless when it came to anything about her. The fact that she was still alive after being in my care for the last couple of weeks, surprised me more than it should have. But, this was the first time in about two weeks since I'd asked anyone for any sort of help.

  “You don't have to do this alone, Eli,” she said, her voice soft.

  “I don't want to keep bothering you every time she sneezes,” I said as I gripped the edge of the crib so tightly, my knuckles were turning white. “I should know these things.”

  “Everyone has to start somewhere,” she replied. “And, le's not forget that you were literally thrown into this parenting thing without an instruction manual or any sort of help. And, you had it dropped on you straight out of the blue. No wonder you feel like you're drowning.”

  “I'm not drowning,” I scoffed and side-eyed me, forcing me to admit, “Okay, maybe I'm struggling a teensy-tiny, little bit. But we've been good for the last couple of weeks – I haven't left her on the roof of my car or anything like that. I consider that a win, at least.”

  She chuckled to herself, but her arms were crossed in front of her chest, in a protective fashion. She'd made sure to keep her distance from me, and I wasn't going to push things. She'd been there when I needed her, now she was free to go. Except, she wasn't leaving.

  My studio apartment was cramped with my couch, bed and the crib all crammed into it. But, she still managed to stay several feet away from me at all times. Which took skill in an apartment my size. Clearly, she was determined.

  She stared at the blank wall as if memorizing the cracks in it.

  “What's on your mind, Hannah?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Liar,” I said, flopping down on my couch, patting the seat next to me.

  She could continue to stand, but if she wanted to rest her feet, it was either the couch or my bed. She seemed to consider her choices carefully before sitting on the far end of the couch, her arms still across her chest, her jaw still set, and her body still tense.

  “I'm not lying,” she said simply. “Just because I don't want to jump your bones, doesn't mean –”

  “Lying again,” I teased. I couldn't help it, but the look she gave me made the laughter die in my throat. “Sorry, go on.”

  She sighed and rested her head back on the couch, closing her eyes. I let her be, and waited several minutes for her to say something. I started to think she'd dozed off when she lifted her head and aimed her blue eyes directly at me.

  “Over the last few weeks, I've learned some things about my father, Eli. I keep hoping I'm wrong but — I just don't know,” she said, biting her lip. “I'm starting to think he's not the man I thought he was.”

  It was my turn to sigh. I let out a long breath and ran a hand through my hair. I didn't keep up with Roy and his dealings, but I knew he meddled in some shady shit. Shit that he didn't want Hannah knowing about. She studied my face, as if hoping to find the answers written in my eyes, but I had nothing for her. I carefully made sure to keep my face neutral and to give nothing away.

  “You know your dad and I don't get along,” I said, shrugging. “I think he's a pretty awful man, but –”

  “He's my dad, Eli –”

  “Hannah, hold up a second, let me finish,” I said.

  I tried to keep my voice quiet enough to not wake the sick baby across the room, but Hannah was clearly getting frustrated with me. I hoped she'd just hear me out.

  “Your dad is not a good man. Ask anyone around town what they think of Roy Ross and they'll mention his past drug abuse, domestic violence, drinking problems, bar fights – the whole nine yards. He's been in prison more times than I can count,” I said. “I doubt you need me to tell you he's a pretty shitty human being, but he's still your dad and I guess maybe I'm realizing what that means now. And listen, I know your dad loves you, Hannah. He loves you enough to want to protect you from the shady shit he's mixed up in, and you should probably listen to him. I promise you that's about the only thing you'll ever hear me agree with him on.”

  Her lips were pursed tight, her brow furrowed even more than usual. Normally, I'd tell her how cute she was when she mad, but that never went over well in the best of times between us. I had no doubt it would go over like a damn lead balloon now. Thi
s time, she had a perfectly good reason to be angry. Her dad was keeping secrets from her, and she probably knew more than she should. However, for her own safety and wellbeing, I needed to convince her to look the other way and not pry into what her dad did.

  Then again, this was Hannah we were talking about and she was never one to do what I wanted her to do. She never did anything anybody told her to do. She was headstrong and independent. Normally, those were two of her best features. This time though, they were going to get her nothing but trouble.

  “I'm not going to ignore this, Eli,” she said. “The stuff I see at the hospital is horrible, and if my dad is behind it – I can't just sit by and let it continue. Not if there's something I can do to put a stop to this shit.”

  “What kind of stuff?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  Like I said, I'd tried to stay out of Roy's business. I had no desire to deal with my stepfather or end up down heading a similar path. It'd be easy enough for me to do, if I'd wanted to go that way. No, I kept my head down, tried to avoid him – and people like him – as much as possible. I would sling the drinks at the bar, sure, but I didn't talk club business or get involved with the club members in any way whatsoever.

  “Kids. Literally, kids, Eli,” she said, standing up and pacing the small section of my apartment between my living area and bedroom. It was a tight fit, but she made it – just barely. “Kids are dying with needles in their arms every single day, and if my dad is somehow responsible for that, I have to stop him.”

  I stood up and grabbed hold of her shoulders, stopping her mid-pace, and forced her to look me in the eye. She didn't pull away, but she didn't seem to appreciate me touching her either. She scowled up at me. grimacing as if my hands burned her flesh.

  “You think he's behind the drugs coming into this town?” I asked.

  “Someone in his club is,” she said. “That much I know for sure. Beyond that, I don't know much more.”