by Jay McLean
Repeat.
“Fuck it,” I snapped, opening the medicine cabinet. I grabbed the pills Polizi had just filled and popped two in my mouth.
“Did you get a look at him?” Tiny asked Bailey from somewhere in the living room.
“No, I couldn’t see anything. Just his eyes,” she answered, her voice shaky.
My jaw tightened. Once again, I ran the tap. This time, I dipped my entire head underneath, letting the cold water run down my neck and face, calming me just enough so I could go back out and face reality.
*
After a half hour or so, Bailey had calmed down enough to answer our questions clearly. She sat on one couch; Tiny and I sat on the other, facing her, a coffee table between us.
“I was washing the dishes,” she said, her hands clasped together but still unable to stop them from trembling. I wanted to go to her, but then she’d feel my hands tremble, see my fear in my eyes, and I had to hide that, not just from her, but from Tiny, too. She added, “I just turned around, and he was at the back door, looking through the window. The second he saw me, I screamed. If I’d just kept calm maybe—”
“No, Bailey. Stop. This isn’t your fault.”
“He saw me,” she said, her gaze shifting between Tiny and I. “It was probably only a second, but it felt like forever, and then he ran, and I didn’t get a chance to see him properly. I’m sorry, Nate.”
“How long ago?” Tiny asked.
“I can’t tell time. Maybe an hour? I don’t know!” she cried.
Three things immediately came to mind:
1: How the fuck did they get through the house security to get to the door?
2: I was with PJ and Benny at the time… a time they’d organized for me to be there.
3: I’d just dealt a blow to the Francos.
I looked over at Tiny, my mind filled with too many thoughts, I couldn’t convey a single one.
“One thing at a time, Boss,” he said, as if he knew what was going through my mind. “What’s the priority?”
“She is,” I said, pointing to Bailey. “Her safety comes first. Always.”
20
Bailey
I gave them all the information I could, but I knew it wasn’t enough. I didn’t care what had happened to me, I only cared about Nate. About the danger that he’d be in if someone found out that he had lied about what he did or didn’t do. And as I watched the concern take over his features, all I wanted to do was go to him, hold him, run my fingers through his hair the way he likes it. “Can you give us a minute?” he asked, looking down at the floor.
“Sure,” I whispered.
“Not you. Tiny.”
Nate waited until Tiny had left the house before finally looking at me, his eyes so dark, so intense, it froze me to my spot. I couldn’t breathe, but I couldn’t look away and after a while, he sighed and started to get up, just as the front door opened. “Sorry,” Tiny said, holding up a phone. “Your phone was in the car. The alarm’s going off.”
“Your meds,” Nate said, getting up and reclaiming his phone. He motioned to the guest bathroom. “Let’s go.”
*
The second we were in the bathroom and the door was closed, I was wrapped in his arms, his lips on mine and a million thoughts and insecurities between us. “I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled away.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I should have been here protecting you.”
“You didn’t know.”
His hands gripped my waist, and he held me to him, his eyes closing when my fingers found their home in his hair.
With his lips soft on my forehead, he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I’m not worried about me, Nate. I’m worried about you. Whoever it was, they know now. They know I’m still alive, and that means that you—”
He pushed me gently until my back hit the counter and he lifted me onto it. “Don’t worry about me, Bailey. I’ll be fine.” After releasing his hold, he started to gather my medicine.
“I can’t help worrying about you, Nate.”
He stopped what he was doing and looked up at me, the softness in his eyes a complete contradiction to what was happening around us. “I promise you,” he said, kissing me once, “I won’t let anything happen to me. I have too much to lose.”
I thought about all that time I spent on the streets, all the shit I had experienced—I never let myself cry. I’d wanted to, but I never succumbed to it. Because I always believed that if anything happened it wouldn’t matter. I had nothing to lose. But hearing his words, seeing him standing in front of me, his eyes flicking between mine, searching—I knew it. I felt it—why I’d cried the second I saw the man at the door… because Nate was right. For the first time in my life, I had something to lose. I had him. And as wrong as it was, he meant absolutely everything to me.
*
I sat in silence and listened to Tiny and Nate discuss how this could happen and who might be behind it. There were no declarations of war or revenge. It was all calm, all calculated.
“What are we going to do about Bailey?” Tiny asked, the sympathy in his voice apparent.
I looked over at Nate, whose eyes were focused on his phone. “Nate?”
His gaze lifted, locked with mine. “You need to go into hiding.”
“I thought I already was.”
“Clearly it wasn’t good enough, Bailey.” He sounded angry. Not at me, but just angry. He focused his attention back to Tiny, who’d been pacing the living room floor the entire time.
“Got any ideas of where we can take her?” Tiny asked.
My breath caught in my chest, and I ignored Tiny in the room and spoke to Nate. “I have to leave here? You… I have to leave you?”
Nate looked at Tiny, then his hands, then the floor. Anywhere but at me. “It’s the only way we can keep you safe. Tiny and I will find somewhere that’s not too far but secluded enough that—”
“So I’d be on my own? For how long? I mean, would you come—”
Tiny cut in. “Boss, I know you may not want to, but there is another option.”
“What’s that?” Nate asked.
“The basement.”
All color drained from Nate’s face. “No.” And instantly the air turned thick. They stared at each other, waiting for the other to break.
After a long moment of deathly silence, I finally spoke up. “You have a basement?”
Nate turned to me, fire in his eyes. “No,” he snapped.
My stomach dropped, along with my gaze. He’d never spoken to me like that.
He sighed loudly. “Go to your room, Bailey.”
“I’m not a kid, Nate!”
His eyes shut as if he was trying to rein in whatever patience he had left. They’d softened by the time he opened them again, his gaze flicking to Tiny quickly before returning to me. Through gritted teeth, he mumbled, “I just need to talk to Tiny, Bailey. Please.”
Ignoring the breaking of my heart, I left and went to my room, and no more than ten minutes later there was a knock on my door. It was Tiny, who motioned to my bed and after we were both sitting, he said, “I have to move you to the basement.”
“Okay.”
“The thing is, Bailey… Nate—he won’t go down there. Not now. Not ever. Don’t ask him why. It’s just the way it is, and it’s somethin’ we have to deal with in order to protect you. You’ll be safe there. That’s what it’s built for.”
Whatever words were running through my mind stayed there, trapped, just like me. I nodded, agreeing to my fate, my fate without the one and only thing worthy of my tears.
*
Tiny asked me to pack what I needed to bring while he moved my mattress to the basement. All I had were Nate’s clothes I’d been living in as well as the stuff they’d bought me.
The door opened behind me, but I didn’t turn around. I knew it was Nate. I tried not to take it personally, the fact that he’d so easily given up on me. On us. I felt path
etic. I felt stupid. And I felt so insignificant, which was dumb considering I’d spent the last few years feeling this exact same emotion.
He cleared his throat to get my attention, but I refused to turn around, refused to face him. I was embarrassed and the tears forming were proof of that.
“Bailey?”
I shut my eyes and let his voice replay in my head, knowing full well it may be the last time I’d hear it. His footsteps neared, and I tensed, waiting for him to say or do something to completely break me.
He covered my hands with his to stop me from folding what little clothes I had. “Will you look at me?”
I couldn’t.
He placed a small bag containing my needles and insulin on the dresser next to the pile of clothes and said, “I got everything ready. You’ll need to do it on your own now…” I could hear the sadness mixed with pity in his voice, and maybe I should’ve cared, but I didn’t. He grasped my hands softly, but I yanked them away. “Bailey…” He bent down, his hands holding mine again. When his face lowered, I turned away from him. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to hear his stupid words, or feel his stupid kiss, or love his stupid affection. “You don’t understand…”
“You’re right, Nate. I don’t.” I looked up at him, begging for an explanation, but all he did was stare back, pleading with me to leave it alone.
Neither of us got what we wanted.
And when Tiny entered the room, and Nate dropped my hands like they were balls of fire, I knew it was over.
It had never even begun.
“Ready?” Tiny asked.
I picked up my medicine bag and whatever clothes I could carry while Tiny took the rest, and when Nate whispered my name, I didn’t respond.
*
There was one light. A tiny bathroom. No windows. I assume at one stage there was probably a door to the outside, but a steel sheet had taken its place. Dust was the only thing that occupied the big open space.
A shiver ran up my spine as I sat on the mattress. It was cold, not just the temperature, but the atmosphere. The basement door opened, and footsteps thud down the stairs. I watched with bated breath as feet came into view, hoping it was Nate.
My heart sank when Tiny appeared, a plate and a drink in his hand. He made his way over and set them both on my nightstand, then towered over me. “I’m working on what happened to the security. No one should’ve been able to get in. It should be fixed tomorrow. Until then, just…” He didn’t bother finishing his sentence. Once he was back at the bottom of the stairs, he said, “I’ll be back tomorrow morning to make sure you take your insulin on time.” And then he was gone.
I looked at the plate of food, tears filling my eyes, and a surge of anger swept through me. I tried to contain it, but it was impossible. A harsh scream left me as I threw the food against the wall.
Stupid plate.
Stupid heart.
Stupid fucking life.
All of it was broken, shattered into a thousand pieces.
Nate
I saw the hurt in her eyes, heard the pain in her voice, felt the anger that consumed her, but what was I supposed to do? I had no other options. Of course, I could tell her the truth, but once it was out there, I couldn’t take it back. I’d rather her not know at all than change the way she looked at me. I’d even rather have her hate me. Besides, how the hell do you tell someone that she was going to live, sleep, breathe in the exact place you shot and killed your own mother?
*
Looking at the basement through the screen of my laptop was almost as bad as physically being there. I’d never had the need to switch to this view on the surveillance stream. In fact, I’d asked Tiny to remove the camera completely, but he’d said no—just in case we needed it someday. It was someday.
He swore under his breath when her scream distorted the speakers. I slammed the screen shut. “Be here at seven tomorrow morning,” I told him.
I carried the laptop under my arm as I started for my room. Once the door was closed behind me, I went straight to the bathroom and gripped the edge of the sink. It was the only way I could keep standing. The only thing I could do to slow the beating of my heart. The meds from earlier hadn’t helped, and I knew it was too soon to take them again. Still, I opened the cabinet and flipped the lid on the orange bottle and poured two in my mouth. Then I got into bed, opened my computer and spent the next hour watching her cry as she sat on the mattress, her head pillowed by her folded arms resting on her raised knees. Her shoulders heaved with every sob. She stayed like that, never once lifting her gaze, never coming up for air.
*
For hours, I tossed and turned in bed knowing sleep would be impossible. At close to three in the morning, I succumbed to the inevitable and opened my computer, entering the passwords that would allow me to see her again.
She hadn’t moved.
“Quit being a fuckin’ pussy,” I whispered. And even as I felt the puke rise and the adrenaline pump through my veins, I couldn’t help but get out of bed and take the steps to reach her. I froze just outside the basement door, my fingers curled around the handle. I tried to breathe through the cluster-fuck running through my mind and pushed back memories and visions of that room.
Bailey. I closed my eyes and thought of her, and the only thing I could think about was how she made me feel, how much I wanted to be with her, how much I needed her.
Bailey
The door opened, and I lifted my gaze, watching a shadow form on the basement stairs. His footsteps were quiet, but fast. I kept my eyes on Nate as he approached me, wondering what the hell he was doing down here. He eyed the shattered plate and discarded food on the floor, and when his eyes trailed back to mine, he smiled. His reaction was odd, but through my tears and my heartache, I smiled back. Squatting down in front of me, he wiped my cheeks with his thumb. “Is it okay if I stay with you?”
All air left my lungs, replaced with new breath, one I needed to get through the night. I got under the covers, scooting to one side to let him in. Once he was lying down, he stretched his arm out, inviting me. I lay my head on his chest and curled into him, my hands gripping his shirt. “It’s pretty shitty in here,” he mumbled, kissing the top of my head.
I didn’t respond.
“We’ll get you a proper bed down here, a fridge and microwave and everything else you’ll need.”
I looked up at him, my pathetic smile still in place, and then I leaned up and kissed him quickly. “I have everything I need right here.”
He pulled me on top of him and kissed me back, longer and more passionately.
“I thought you wouldn’t come down here,” I said, breaking the kiss.
“I guess some things are greater than the fears we hold on to.”
21
Nate
Boom! My eyes snapped open at the sound and I sat up and came face to face with the barrel of a gun.
In my arms, Bailey screamed.
I tried to focus my vision and settle my pulse, just long enough for me to gather my thoughts. The man stood above us, gun pointed, black ski mask in place, and when Bailey screamed again, I brought her closer to me and mumbled, “Put the fuckin’ gun down.”
Tiny lowered his weapon and removed the mask, his eyes narrowed. “Do you know how fuckin’ easy it was for me to come down here? You hadn’t even closed the basement door.”
“You have a key, Tiny!”
“That’s not the fuckin’ point. Where’s your gun, Nate? Or your phone? I called it for five minutes before I let myself in. You always have your phone. You always answer. I come in and find you in here? Both your lives are in danger, and this is your solution. To screw—”
I grabbed his gun, faster than he expected, and turned the tables on him. “Keep talkin’ and I’ll blow the caps off your knees. Get the fuck out.”
“Nate,” Bailey whispered. “He’s just doing his job.”
Tiny raised his eyebrows. “And what are you doing, Bailey? Earning your keep?”
>
Blood rushed to my ears, the anger boiling out of me. I jumped to my feet and shoved Tiny until his back hit a wall. “You’re pushin’ it.”
“And you’ve lost your fuckin’ mind.”
Bailey’s hand settled on my shoulder, attempting to pull me away. “He’s right, Nate.”
Tiny’s eyes bored into mine. “Listen to your—”
I pressed the gun against his chest, cutting him off.
Slowly, he wrapped his hands around his weapon, lowering it and taking it from me. He used the gun to tap my temple twice. “Start thinkin’ with your head.”
*
“You can’t be mad at him,” Bailey said, watching me shave in the tiny basement bathroom.
“I can be whatever I want,” I murmured, annoyed she was on his side. He had no fuckin’ right to do what he did or speak to us the way he had.
“But you told me it was his job to protect you and that he was good at it. He did his job, Nate.”
“So you’re okay with waking up to a gun pointed at you?”
“I’m not okay with guns at all, and you should know that…”
I kissed her quickly. “I’ll be back before dinner.”
She grasped my hand, stopping me from walking away. “Nate…”
“Leave it alone, Bai. It’s not your burden. It’s mine. I’ll handle Tiny. You just worry about getting through the day without breaking shit.”
*
“The next time you feel like making a point, do it without a gun,” I told Tiny once we were in his car.
“Are you sleeping with her?”
“It’s none of your fuckin’ business.”
He raised his voice. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“Maybe I’ve been too easy on you that you’ve forgotten who the fuck it is you work for.”
“I’ve given my life to this, Nate. You know I’d take a fuckin’ bullet for you. I’ve never questioned a damn decision you’ve ever made. And don’t act as if you don’t know that, or know me.”
Fuck. He was right, and I knew it. “I’m not sleeping with her,” I said, settling back in my seat.
“But you want to be?”