by Melissa Huie
“Oh my God, Megan. I’m so sorry. I … I don’t know what happened. Baby. I’m sorry,” he apologized. His chest heaving with adrenaline, mortification filled his face. I played it off and chuckled lightly to ease his concern.
“Hey, it’s okay. I completely understand. You’re not a morning person. I remember,” I said nonchalantly. Beneath the bravado, I trembled inside.
Obviously taken aback by his outburst, Shane ran his hand through the mess on his head and frowned.
“No. It’s not okay. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” He came around to my side and folded me into his arms. My heartbeat calmed to a normal rhythm. I wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling the tension in his coiled arms.
“You can make it up to us by feeding us pancakes,” I mumbled into his chest.
“Seriously. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Shane said. He cupped my face and brought his lips to mine.
“I know. I’m fine. Really. It’s not a big deal. After everything that’s happened, you’re bound to have nightmares. It’s okay,” I replied. To show him I was telling the truth, and to gain a moment to think, I purposely let my cold hands wander underneath his gray boxers, causing a yelp and a jump.
“Yeeaaaaaahhhh! Okay! Okay! Pancakes it is!” Shane cried. “Come on, Pen. Let’s make some pancakes.”
“Go! I’m starving. I’ll be right down.”
His eyes roamed my face to make sure I was being truthful. I gave him my best smile and that seemed to satisfy him. He whistled for Penny and headed downstairs.
I exhaled and reminded myself that Shane had been through hell and back for the last four months and he needed to adjust to living here again. He will be fine. We will be fine. There is no need to be overly dramatic or freak out.
The smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying made my stomach growl, so I pulled on my sweats and padded down the stairs. Much to the chagrin of my OB/GYN, bacon has been a staple on my menu. I can’t eat enough. And it sure as heck doesn’t curb the weight gain. The whole eating for a healthy one wasn’t resonating with me. I ate for a damn army.
In my kitchen I found Penny patiently waiting by the stove where Shane was tackling a huge undertaking. Aside from the bacon, he had the bread toasted, the eggs fried and best of all, pancakes bubbling on the stove.
“Wow. Now this is a feast,” I quipped, as I pulled out the orange juice and creamer from the fridge.
“I would’ve made some hash browns too, but you’re out of potatoes. Is this okay? I mean; is there anything else you want?” he asked, as he flipped the pancakes. My mouth watered when I saw blueberries in the batter.
“No, this is fine. The problem is I don’t think there’s enough for you,” I joked. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down. Shane chuckled.
“I know enough never to fight a pregnant woman for food, but I have you beat on the appetite; I could eat a whole cow.” He put some eggs and bacon into Penny’s bowl, then dished out the food for us.
Our plates loaded, we dug in. After a few moments, all I could do was stare. Shane shoveled food into his mouth so quickly you’d have thought he’d been on a hunger strike for the past year. Watching him reminded me of Penny: scarfing up the food without even tasting it. Shane looked up long enough to see me watching him with my mouth open and smiled weakly.
“Sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good meal.”
“No, it’s fine. I should have fed you last night,” I replied. “When was the last time you ate?”
Shane paused. “The last time I ate anything substantial was about four days ago in a diner. I guess I looked pathetic counting out change, so the waitress said dinner was on her.”
“Where were you?” I asked, my head jumbled with questions.
“Hagerstown … I think,” he mumbled with his mouth full of food. I gaped at him, my forkful of pancake momentarily forgotten.
“How did you get here? Did you walk?”
“I walked. I hitched rides with truckers. I took a couple of buses. I was lost for a while and ended up going in circles. It’s hard to travel when you barely have any money and no ID.” He stabbed his pancake forcefully. I could tell he was getting agitated, but the questions kept tumbling out.
“How did you get away from the house?” I asked quietly, knowing how uncomfortable the subject made him.
“Stole the agent’s truck. Stole a couple, actually.” Was it my imagination, or was there a dare in his tone of voice, as if he expected me to be mad or upset that he had to steal a car? Did he actually think I would give him crap about that?
“Well that’s understandable. Did you …” I started to ask if he was able to get any sleep, but he quickly cut me off.
Shane sighed in frustration as he put his fork down. “Look. I’m sorry, but can we talk about something else? It's over and done with. Is it good enough to know that I’m here now and I’m alive?”
Uh, okay. It was a simple question and while I understood his strain on reliving those details, the reaction was not what I expected. I wanted to help him adjust to being out of danger and back home.
“Of course.” I sipped my coffee. The tension thickened and I had no idea how to salvage the morning. Luckily, my mother has impeccable timing. My cell phone rang loudly from its spot on the counter. The Bruce Springsteen ringtone let me know it was her. Shane glanced at me, startled.
“It's just Mom.” I eased myself off the chair.
“Don't tell her I'm here. Please,” he whispered urgently, his eyes wide.
I nodded and answered the phone. “Hi Mom, what's up?” I asked, keeping my voice light.
“Did you oversleep?” Mom asked. “We were wondering where you were.” Confused for a moment, it suddenly dawned on me. I completely forgot about the post-wedding brunch for my brother, Kyle, and his new wife and my former college roommate, Sarah. Oh crap.
“I guess I did. I was exhausted last night. I'm sorry I missed it,” I replied. I was genuinely apologetic. Brunch was at Uncle Bob's house on the Bay, as a way to say goodbye to Sarah and Kyle before they left on their honeymoon to St. Maarten.
“No worries. Brunch is over and there is still a ton of food. I'm sending Tommy over with some leftovers,” she mentioned.
“Wait, what? Tommy’s on his way here?”
“Yes, Megan. That's what I just said. He's on his way over with some crab cakes, scrambled eggs, fruit, those mini quiches you like, some bacon... Dear, try not to eat too much bacon, you know what the doctor said,” my mom continued, unaware that her phone call set off an anxiety attack in Shane.
“Thanks, but that's not necessary. I'm not feeling so good; my stomach is kind of messed up. I think I ate too much last night,” I rushed, suddenly nauseous. Shane's expression became thunderous. What the heck just happened? Why is he so angry? I gestured frantically for him to go upstairs and tried to listen to my mother prattle on.
“What Mom? Sorry, I'm a little distracted,” I said, as Shane peered out the window.
“He's here,” Shane whispered tersely.
“Mom, Tommy's here. I'm going to send him on his way. I really don't feel good.” I quickly hung up in the middle of my mother's spiel. I've never done that before but I pushed away the pang of regret and focused on Shane.
“Get him out of here Megan.” Shane’s terse order spoke volumes as he strode into the family room. He stood within eyesight of the mudroom door with his fists clenched, as if waiting for Tommy to come into with a shotgun. Granted, that's what happened the last time he was in my house; but that raid was just an act so that it would look like Shane was being arrested with the rest of the gang.
“Shane. Tommy is a good friend. It's okay,” I whispered.
“Just make him leave,” he hissed. With my focus on Shane, Tommy's knock startled me.
I tightened my robe and opened the mud room door.
“Hey, Tommy. I'm sorry. I'm really not feeling well right now,” I said weakly. Not feeling well was right on the mone
y. Shane's behavior was making me dizzy.
“Babe, you don't look too good. Did you eat a lot of bacon again? You know what that does to you. Why don't I come in and make you a cup of tea.” Tommy tried to gently nudge passed, but I blocked his way.
“I'm fine. I didn't eat a lot of bacon. I promise. I just have a really bad headache and I'm going back to bed.” Again, not another lie. I could feel a migraine coming on.
He smiled and sniffed the air. “Yeah, sure you didn't eat a lot of bacon. I can smell it. But, it's cool. I need to head to Jersey for the day anyway. I’ll be back tomorrow. Here's the bag from your mom. Do you need anything before I roll out?”
“No, I'm good. I'm just going to clean up then go back to bed.” I rubbed my head, gingerly.
“Well, I hope you feel better.” He kissed my forehead. “Call me later if you need anything. I should be back around seven.”
I nodded as he walked down the driveway and pulled away in his black Suburban. Shane came around the corner the moment I shut the door. His eyes were dark with fury and his face was pulled into a deep frown; he was furious. But I had no clue why.
“So, Tommy’s been coming around here a lot, huh?”
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” I blurted out, taken aback by his question. So much for my filter.
Shane’s eyes widened at my outburst then realization dawned on him; he knew he had screwed up.
“Shit. Nothing. I'm sorry. I really am. I’m just jealous. This is just really overwhelming.” He drew me into his chest.
“I know.” I closed my eyes at the thundering headache that loomed behind them.
“Why don't you go back to bed? I'll clean up here.”
I accepted and padded up the stairs. But Shane’s attitude really troubled me. I know he wants me to give him space, but he will have to let me in and let me help him. We will talk about this, come hell or high water.
*****
After my nap, I felt somewhat human. Tylenol and water sat on the nightstand next to me. Getting up and taking the pills, I slowly wandered down to the kitchen to find Shane at the table with my laptop. He was intently reading something, something that apparently was not for my viewing as he quickly closed the page when he saw me.
“Hey. How are you feeling?” he asked warily.
“Better. How about you?” I gave him a pointed look and he had the grace to look away. Screw walking on eggshells, we’re going to talk about what is going on.
“Baby, I’m sorry for this morning. I really am. And I know I should be grateful that Tommy has been around to watch over you. But there is just something about him that bugs the hell out of me.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that. On one hand, he looked very remorseful and contrite. But on the other hand, the expression on his face when Tommy came to the door was murderous. Could he really believe that Tommy and I had a thing? I didn’t say anything as I poured some water from the pitcher sitting on the table and sat across from him. Shane pushed aside the laptop and I took his hands.
“I know you’re in a different place right now. Like you said earlier, this is very overwhelming. A lot has happened since you left. But the only way we’re going to get through this is if we talk about it. I don’t want you to hide anything from me or hold it back. We need to get it all out. I need you to talk to me.” Shit. I meant to start off slow and gentle, but everything tumbled out. Shane closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his telltale sign that he was trying to choose his words wisely.
“Megs, I’m not trying to hide anything from you. A lot of shit happened out there, and to be honest, it fucked me up more than I thought,” he said carefully. I nodded, encouraging him to continue. He sighed and went on.
“The agent in charge at the safe house, Garrison, had been running on high alert all day. There was so much chatter coming in from their sources, everything from sightings of Reggie to locations of the heads of each group. There were even explicit details on where they were going to strike next. Garrison was going nuts, trying to decipher what was real and what was rumor. And then just like that, their radios went down. They couldn’t check in with the field office or with other units. Garrison filled me in once they lost all communications.”
“Did they know that the Cartel was coming for you?” The brave façade I desperately tried to hold onto began to crumble. I wanted to be strong for him, to show him I could handle this, but the terror crept into my voice.
“Garrison knew something was up. It was no fluke that the radios and computers went dark. He wanted more agents on the ground, so they used their cell phones to call for backup. No one came and he was frustrated as hell. His gut was telling him to move, but his commands were to stay put. If we had followed Garrison’s instincts, those agents would still be alive …,” he said sadly, his voice trailing off.
After a pause, he continued. “Anyway, we were trying to relieve the tension by playing video games. I went into the kitchen for a sandwich and that was it. After the explosion I told you about, I hid under the truck where I heard several cars come up the drive. I knew it was the Cartel and I knew they were looking for me. I couldn’t see much, just the shoes and rims of the tires. Megs, those were the same custom BCBG rims that Christian Cruz, the kingpin of the Cruz Cartel, required all his upper level guys to have. Then there were shots. Those bastards took out the four men that had stayed back at the house, men that died because of me. They were good guys, Megs, and I found them shot in the back.”
I shuddered at the terror that he saw. But Shane couldn’t stop. Once he started, the words flowed out like an avalanche.
“The Cartel left as soon as they heard the sirens. I knew I had a limited time to get out. I broke Garrison’s truck’s window, hotwired the truck, and barreled out like a bat out of hell. I drove for an hour before the Cartel caught up with me. I was going so fast I lost control of the truck and crashed into a tree. They tied me up and blindfolded me, but I recognized some of their voices. I was thrown into a van and we drove for what felt like hours,” he said in a rush, tripping over his words. Shane didn’t add details, but he didn’t have to. The tension in his jaw and his fixed stare at the table said it all. His fists clenched the placemat as he relayed what happened.
“When we stopped, I was put into a dark room that was as small as your bathroom; it smelled as bad as my old hockey gear. There were two of them, big jacked-up guys wearing ski masks watching over me and carrying AK-47s. They told me that Christian was on his way and that I would pay for ratting them out. The bastards kept me awake by watching their porn as loud as they could, or by bringing their dogs into the room. If they caught me dozing, I would get a bucket of cold water on my head or get dog shit thrown on me. They chained me to the wall and beat me with baseball bats, but only until I was on the verge of passing out. They fucked with my head. The biggest one giggled like a bitch every time.”
I gasped. The thought of him, tortured and abused, made my stomach turn. Shane kept his eyes down as the words tumbled out.
“I lost track of time but figured I was in there for a couple of weeks. They got piss drunk the day before Christian was supposed to come. Stupid, piss-ass drunk. They were fucking with me through the door and forgot to lock it after they brought me crap to eat from the vending machine. They were so drunk they could hardly stand. I managed to get the chain off the wall … so I took a chance. I opened the door and beat the hell out of them with the chains. I shot them both with their own guns. I took what I could from their wallets and ran.”
I sucked in my breath as my heart pounded. Shane’s expression turned dark.
“Where were you? How did you manage to get home?”
Shane took a breath and continued with the story, anxious to get it out quickly. “I think we were in New Mexico or Arizona. It was hot as hell and there was a lot of dessert. Caught a ride with a trucker and somehow managed to get to the North Carolina/Virginia border. From there, I walked until an Iraq vet took pity on me
outside of Richmond. That’s who dropped me off last night.”
I sat in awe, listening to his journey.
“When I was stuck in that hellhole, I heard them talk about you and how Reggie went to find you.” His voice tightened and he grabbed my hand. “It scared the shit out of me, to know that they targeted you. That was the one thing I didn’t want to happen. I thought I could protect you. But all I did was lead them right to you. If I hadn’t moved back in …”
There were a lot of ‘what if’s’. If Shane hadn’t been dealing in the first place, if he hadn’t gotten busted, if he hadn’t made a deal with the Feds… none of this would have happened. But I didn’t place the blame on him. He was only a teenager when his family died in a car accident. Alone and angry, he found refuge in the worst of places, a Cartel who called themselves family, but wouldn’t hesitate to slit your throat.
“I don’t blame you. You couldn’t have predicted this. There was nothing you could have done,” I whispered, squeezing his hand.
“There was plenty I could have done early on to prevent this bull shit. But I was stupid then and I’m paying the price now.”
I sighed. There was no use arguing with him on this. He would always feel guilty.
“The fact that you’re here, that you risked everything, means the world to me. I can’t imagine the horror you faced.” I had so much to say, but the words wouldn’t form on my tongue. He smiled slightly.
“I never wanted to hurt you. It killed me when Tommy brought you to see me in jail. Seeing you cry is one hundred times worse than anything those assholes did to me,” Shane whispered.
The memory of the last time I saw him came roaring back. The image of Shane in shackles made my stomach turn. I said some pretty hateful things that day. And I now regret every single one of them. I walked over to his side and curled my arms around his shoulders.
“As much as I hated you in that moment, I still loved you. I have always loved you. And I have regretted that day ever since. It was not the way I should have said goodbye.” I brushed away the tears and gave him a shaky smile. “But you’re here now and we have this opportunity to start over.”