by Jay McLean
I’d perfected intimidation. And I’d mastered the act of the perfect calm…
His eyes widened, and for the first time since the night Bailey killed Pauly, I saw the fear. And I loved every second of it. Hell, I thrived on it. “You got something to say?”
He tried to push me off him, but I held my ground and pushed the barrel harder against him. “You better say it.”
“I don’t know where the fuck the girl is or where you’re hiding her, but I sure as hell know it’s not in the fuckin’ river with Pauly’s shoes. I know, DeLuca.” His eyes thinned to slits. “I know what you’ve done. I just need proof. But I’ll fuckin’ die before I let a brother’s death go unpunished.”
“Then prepare to die, PJ, because you’re fuckin’ insane. And you won’t find shit. And even if you think you have, I’ll fuckin’ kill you before—”
Tiny’s hand landed on my shoulder, interrupting me. “Boss,” he said, attempting to pull me away.
Jerry walked back out from the storeroom. “My little girl will be here soon. I don’t want her seeing this shit.”
“No problem,” I said, letting go of PJ’s collar and helping him to stand upright. I brushed down his clothes for him. Then I reached into my pocket, pulled out some cash and dropped it on the counter. “My apologies for the inconvenience today, Jerry. I hope this little altercation doesn’t ruin any future business relations.”
“Not at all,” Jerry answered, already busy counting the cash.
“Benny’s gonna hear about this bullshit,” PJ shouted after me.
I turned swiftly, my gun whipping the side of his face. I released it, knowing if I didn’t, I’d put a fucking bullet through him. My fist landed on his jaw first, and then his nose and everything after that was a blur.
“Enough!” Tiny shouted, pulling me off PJ. “That’s enough.”
I paused mid-movement, watching the blood spew from PJ’s nose. “You’re done,” I told him, picking my gun up off the floor.
He cursed under his breath but didn’t say anything else. Tiny led us both out of the deli and practically shoved me into his car. Once he was seated, he turned to me. “You lost it, Nate. You never lose it.”
“Maybe it’s time I start.”
16
Bailey
When Nate got back, his mood had switched. He came into my room, asked how I was feeling, and when I told him I was fine, he nodded once and left. A moment later I heard him in the kitchen, slamming the cabinets.
Slowly, I got out of bed and tiptoed down the hall, stopping in my tracks when he came into view. His palms lay flat on the counter, his arms outstretched and his shoulders tense. His roped muscles popped out from under the sleeves of his T-shirt as he let his head drop forward, his eyes focused on the bottle of whiskey in front of him. I watched, transfixed, as he stood there, unmoving.
After what felt like an eternity, he heaved out a sigh and straightened up. “You coming?” he murmured, facing me.
I jumped in my spot, then composed myself enough to put one foot in front of the other.
“I’d offer you a drink, but I don’t think you should. You know… just until we find out what caused last night.”
“Okay.”
He reached for the bottle, and that’s when I saw it; the blood on his knuckles. Without thinking, I lifted his hand with both of mine so I could inspect it. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly, pulling out of my hold.
“Was it about me?”
“No, Bailey. It was about me.”
And even though I knew he was lying, Tiny’s words from earlier came to mind. Instead of pushing him like I wanted, I changed the subject. “I’m sure I can have a small sip,” I said, jerking my head toward the whiskey. “Just a taste.”
He arched a single eyebrow as if surprised by my words. Then he shrugged. “Just a taste. Can’t hurt, right?”
I nodded and sat up on the counter. As he reached up to grab the glasses, the bottom of his shirt lifted, exposing the bottom of his naturally tanned stomach. There was something about the way his boxers—ones I’m sure I’ve worn at some point—peeked out over his jeans, hiding the beginning of that V that led to…
“Bailey?”
My eyes darted to his. “Huh?” Then I dropped my gaze to hide my blush. I knew he’d caught me staring, and there was nothing I could do about it.
“You want whiskey or something weaker?” he asked, but I could hear the amusement in his voice. At least I was doing what Tiny had asked.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” I said, ignoring the pounding of my heart while I tried to muster the courage to stay put, to not run into my room and shut the door.
He used his uninjured hand to pour us each a glass. “Just taste it,” he said, handing it to me.
There was barely anything in mine. I eyed it curiously before lifting it to my nose to smell it. It smelled fine.
“Wait.” He covered my hand. “Have you had alcohol before?”
I shook my head.
“Just go easy.”
“Okay,” I agreed, but I didn’t really know what he meant by it. I brought the glass to my lips, confused by the amount of liquid and by his words, and then I tipped the glass and drank it all. Then I spluttered and coughed, my chest, eyes and nose burning.
“I said go easy!” he said, but he was laughing.
I was still coughing, pounding at my chest. “It burns,” I squeaked.
He laughed harder and stood in front of me. His strong hand on my shoulder as he bent at his knees, trying to look at me.
I wiped my eyes and held my stomach, feeling the liquid burning inside there. “Is that stuff like… expired?” I looked up at him, waiting for a response.
With his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, he just shook his head, his shoulders heaving with each laugh trying to escape.
I slapped his shoulder, annoyed at his response to the fire burning inside me.
“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to compose himself. “But I did tell you to go easy. That’s not how you drink whiskey for the first time.”
“How do you drink it then?”
“You appreciate it,” he said, lifting the glass. His eyes stayed on mine as he tipped the drink slowly into his mouth, his tongue darting out afterward, licking the taste off his lips.
I found myself copying his movements; my eyes fixed on his mouth. A shiver ran up my spine, and a stirring occurred in the pit of my stomach. My chest heaved with every breath, and his did the same. We couldn’t stop looking at each other… until his phone rang. And he cursed under his breath, before pulling it out of his pocket and answering it. “Yeah?” he said, his eyes still on mine. “Okay. We can deal with it tomorrow.” And then he hung up.
I jumped off the counter. “I’m going to bed.”
“It’s still light out.”
“Oh. I’ll just have a nap,” I told him, needing some space to think, and to breathe. What the hell was happening?
“Sounds good,” he said, walking past me toward the bedrooms. He didn’t stop at his door, though. Instead, he went to my room. He shifted the covers on the bed and sat on the edge as he placed the content of his pockets on the nightstand. I stood in the doorway, watching, not knowing what to do. “You coming?”
“Um…”
“We’re just sleepin’, right?”
I nodded slowly and made my way over to him. He lay down, scooting until his back was against the wall, making room for me. I hesitated, and he noticed because he said, “I’m tired, Bailey. I didn’t sleep at all last night. Either you get in bed, and I sit on the chair awake and watch you sleeping, or you can do us both a favor, and we can both get some rest.”
Without another word, I climbed under the covers, facing away from him. The bed shifted and his arm moved under my pillow, and then his other arm was around my waist, and his hand flattened on my stomach, drawing me closer to him. I felt his breath on my neck as both his arms curled around
me, pressing my back against his chest. And then he kissed my shoulder, softly, just once, but it was enough to make me shut my eyes and relive the feeling over and over. “Sleep well, bella.”
17
Bailey
Nate stayed home for another couple days. When he had to step out, it was only for an hour or so at a time. No longer was there a separation between us, not with the walls of the house, and not emotionally. He was never more than a few feet away unless we were sleeping. That one time in my bed was the closest we’d been. But he always seemed to find a way to be nearby—slight touches, quick glances, small smiles—all of it had my heart and mind racing, my fingers twitching to touch him back, to do something, so he knew that I didn’t mind his touch. Not even a little bit.
“Doctor Polizi’s coming soon,” Nate said, looking up from his phone.
“Okay.” I nodded, trying to move the hair away from my face without using my glove covered hands. I was on all fours, cleaning the oven while he stood behind me, watching me I guess. Cleaning was the only thing I could find to do in the house, and even though he said that I didn’t need to—that he’d prefer me not to—I had to. Not just for my sanity, but because it felt as if I was somehow paying him back. He shook his head when I told him that but agreed to let me anyway. We spoke more, about anything we could think of that didn’t consist of my past or his job. It’s not as if we sat down and said those topics were off limits, but I think we both wanted whatever it was we were experiencing to be separate from that. We wanted to just be two people—friends, maybe—who enjoyed each other’s presence. So we ignored the reasons why I was here in the first place, or at least, we did our best to fake it.
I stuck my bottom lip out and blew out a breath, trying to move the hair from my eyes again. He chuckled lightly and bit down on an apple, keeping it in his mouth as he squatted down next to me. He used both hands to clear the hair away from my eyes, then cupped my face in his hands. “Eyyer?” he mumbled, apple still in his mouth.
My nose scrunched. “What?”
He pulled out the apple with one hand, the other remaining on my cheek. “Better?”
I nodded, ignoring how his touch made me feel.
“Good.” He stood back up and resumed his position, leaning on the counter behind me and watching me clean.
Sticking my head back in the oven, I continued my task. “You don’t have to watch me, you know? I’m sure there’s something you’d rather be doing.”
He chuckled. “I like my view just fine.”
*
“Diabetes?” I asked Doctor Polizi while I looked over at Nate anxiously. “What does that mean?”
Nate sat down next to me on the couch and took my hand. “What does it mean for her? I mean, as far as treatment goes?” he asked.
The doctor went through, in detail, what type of diabetes I had. He said I’d most likely had it my entire life, but it went untreated. And the fact that I’d probably shrugged off the symptoms as hunger didn’t help. He said I’d need to take something called insulin twice a day, and a whole bunch of pills to replace the vitamins I was lacking from being locked up all day with no fresh air or sunlight. He said it was a miracle I’d lasted as long as I had without the proper medication.
“But I feel fine most of the time,” I told him, even though I was looking at Nate.
“Your level of fine may differ from what it really should be. You might think what you’re feeling is normal because it’s constant, Bailey. Hopefully getting you on the right treatment plan will make you feel how you really should be feeling.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I stayed silent.
He pulled out a box from his medicine bag and sat down next to Tiny on the couch opposite us, then proceeded to lay out the content on the coffee table between us. He pointed out what everything was and what it was used for.
Nate sat next to me and typed away on his phone, asking all the questions I didn’t know to ask. All I could really understand was that I had to check my sugar levels and take the insulin stuff twice a day. Four needles. I’d already done a few tests so I knew what it would feel like, but when Doctor Polizi asked me to take a shot of the insulin so he could make sure I did it right, I panicked. I pinched the skin on my stomach with one hand, the other shaking as I brought it closer. I eyed Nate as he chewed his lip, watching me. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes. It’s just different. I mean… doing it myself. I don’t know…”
He exhaled loudly and rubbed his eyes. “Are you afraid of the pain?”
“No. I don’t think so…”
Doctor Polizi spoke up. “Will it help if Nate does it this time? And slowly you can build up to doing it yourself? Just in case he’s not around?”
I released a breath and let myself relax. “Would you?” I asked Nate.
“Of course.”
I stood in front him, lifting my shirt slightly and pinching the skin again. His fingers brushed mine when he took the needle machine from my hand. He glanced up at me before looking at the doctor. “Will it hurt her?” Nate asked, and my chest tightened at his words.
“No more than when we do the blood sugar tests,” Polizi answered.
Nate released a nervous breath as his free hand curled around my leg, gently pulling me closer to him. “You okay, Bailey?”
I nodded and closed my eyes and, as if on their own, my hands reached for the back of his head, my fingers lacing through his hair. Then I let the world fade around me.
In my mind, it was just Nate and me. In this one moment. And even though I knew it was nothing special… it was more than I’d ever felt for anyone. And it was a feeling I swore to treasure. A knot formed in my throat as I thought about the man in front of me. The man who saved my life and was continuing to do so. Not just from the outside world, but from myself. From my pain and my misery. I didn’t have to live in my past anymore. Instead, I could live in the now. And I could live with Nate. And if this was all my life would be, trapped with Nate, it didn’t seem so bad.
“Bailey?”
I kept my eyes closed so he wouldn’t see my tears.
“Bailey, you’re all done.”
“I am?” I croaked, finally opening my eyes.
“I didn’t hurt you?”
“No.”
The doctor cleared his throat, pulling my attention from Nate’s worried eyes. Polizi waited until I was sitting down before saying, “I managed to get you some insulin, but it’s not going to last long. I need to get you a script which is going to be hard without a name to put it under. I’d use Nate’s, but it may raise eyebrows because of his own medication.”
My eyes snapped to Nate’s. “You’re sick, too?”
“No.” He shook his head quickly and held my hand. “I’m fine.”
“But he said—”
“Bailey…” His brow pinched as he searched my face. “It’s okay. I’m fine. I promise.”
And I knew it then; Nate was, without a doubt, the most important person in my life. Not just because he was my only constant, but also because I cared about him, and I can’t remember the last time I let myself care about anyone.
Tiny cleared his throat, and all eyes went to him.
“You can use my name,” he said.
My breath caught. “Tiny…”
He ignored me and motioned his head to the doctor. “Mark Wade. Use that. I’ll give you whatever information you need.”
18
Bailey
Tiny’s voice startled me awake. “I get it, man, I do. But you have responsibilities and work to take care of. The ship doesn’t run without you… and with no ship, there’s no sail.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.” Nate laughed out loud.
God, it was a beautiful sound. I found myself smiling, but that smile was wiped when Tiny said, “All I’m saying is that we’re falling behind now. It was okay the first day, even the second, but it’s been four days. And you’ve never had time off. People are tal
king, Boss. PJ is talking.”
At the mention of PJ’s name, my heart sank. I didn’t even think about any of that. I was too busy enjoying having him around, too busy being selfish.
*
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay today?” Nate asked.
I sat up on the bathroom counter. “I’ll be fine. I’ve taken way too much time away from your work as it is.”
He lifted his gaze to mine with the needle in his hand. I could tell he wanted to say something, but he didn’t, he just lifted my shirt and inspected my stomach. “You know it’s easier for me to do this when your hands are in my hair.”
I feigned a smile, too busy worrying about what Tiny had said, and did as he asked, and when I laced my fingers through his thick dark hair, his eyes rolled, an over exaggerated sigh leaving him.
“We gotta go!” Tiny shouted, knocking on the door.
“Okay!” Nate yelled back, administering my insulin.
I kept my hands in his hair as he straightened to full height. “Be careful, okay?”
His eyes narrowed, confusion clouding his features. “Shouldn’t those be my words to you?”
My gaze dropped, along with my voice. “I heard what Tiny said this morning.”
He pulled my hands away from his hair. I thought he’d be mad that I’d been eavesdropping but instead, he linked our fingers together and bent down so he could get in my vision. I shivered, not from the cold but from his touch.
His eyes locked on mine, and I sucked in a breath, unable to release it.
One.
Two.
Three.
He finally broke the silence. “It’s Tiny’s job to protect me. He’s good at his job because he worries too much. It’s not something you need to be concerned about, Bailey. I swear.”