by Aiden Bates
"Third. Document everything. Are you getting harassing, threatening, or just plain weird phone calls? The kind where the caller just calls, waits for you to pick up, and then hangs up, maybe? Write it down—date, time, duration, and number if you have it. Maybe call us once a day with a report, or email me. It might seem like we're not doing anything with that information," she admitted with a rueful grin, "but it helps us to build a case against the bad guys. Even if we for some reason lose the case against them for human trafficking we can still get them on witness intimidation."
Alex pursed his lips. That much he could get behind. He suspected everyone else could, too.
Langbroek gave a few more tips and then let them all go. Alex too the opportunity to go talk to his sister, once the crowd of other people who wanted to talk to her scurried away. "Have you spoken to Carmela yet?"
"I have." She sighed and bowed her head. "The poor girl's a wreck, and who can blame her? Derek says he can't get her to come out of her room even for food."
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. "That's not good."
"No, it isn't. I'm heading over there after this. I don't know that it'll help, but I can try." She closed her eyes and clenched her fist. "What is it with the courts around here, that they'll lock a kid up for three years without trial for supposedly stealing a backpack but let a man walk when they know he was selling girls for money?"
Alex couldn't answer that. He didn't think Ayla wanted him to try. "You spoke with Derek, too."
"I did." She raised an eyebrow at Alex. "He was a little more together. He's not thrilled. In fact, I'd go so far as to describe him as 'pissed off.' Who wouldn't be? He's pretty convinced the Greers are going to send someone after him and I don't think I can convince him he's wrong."
Alex folded his arms across his chest, pulling them into himself. "Why don't the police assign a protective detail to him and to Carmela? They're the key witnesses here."
"Technically, only Derek is a key witness and he's only a key witness to attempted murder, on himself. That's not valuable enough to get police guards. Carmela isn't considered more valuable than any of the other survivors. She's just, you know, stronger. Maybe it's just because she wasn't there as long as some of the others, I don't know. Either way, there are too many survivors to protect." A cloud passed over the sun outside, changing the light in the room, and for a moment Ayla looked much older than her thirty years. "I argued for it, believe me. So did Det. Langbroek, before you object. But the higher-ups said no."
"Great." Alex sucked in his cheeks, and then forced a smile onto his face. "So what are the chances of getting together with you sometime this week? All of this… this aside, I do want to still see you."
Ayla blushed. "I think I'd like that. Can we do it just us, or just us and Ivy?"
Alex frowned, but he nodded. "Of course. I don't have a problem with that. Anything you want, little sister."
She sagged with relief. "Is there something going on with Dad? I don't mind him having an issue with me and the things I did. I expect it. But he definitely doesn't seem to like Derek at all."
Alex blushed. "It doesn't matter if he likes Derek. Derek's not family. Dad's… " Alex trailed off. He had to scramble to find a way to describe what their father had become since Ayla's disappearance. "Dad hasn't been exactly the same since you were taken. He's developed some unique ideas. I can't say I'm a fan." He shook the thought off. "I'm sure it will all get better now that you're home, though."
Ayla winced. "I'd rather not be responsible for Dad's behavior, thanks."
Alex stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant—well, I meant I'm hoping Dad and Mom will get their heads straightened out. It's probably not a reasonable expectation, though. It's been twenty years. Anyone who's the same person they were twenty years ago, no matter what the circumstances, probably has problems."
Ayla pointed at him and gave a triumphant little laugh. "I knew it! You have been dating Derek!"
Alex’s jaw worked for a second as he tried to process what she'd just said. "Okay, I'm not sure whether I should be upset at how the fact that you're at all concerned about my love life or in awe of the fact that you figured anything out at all."
"Carmela said she thought you might be." Ayla shifted her weight from foot to foot. "He's a good man. Smart. I like him."
"I do too." Alex blushed as he spoke the words. "I'm not sure how long it can last, but I do like him. He's a pretty incredible guy. When you think about all of the things he's seen and done, you know? He's lived through a lot, and he's still got this ability to stand up for Carmela and for me."
"And for me." Ayla gave a wry grin. "I couldn't help but appreciate that. He really is amazing." She bit her lip. "I don't pretend to know what you're like now. I want to get to know who you are, but I'm not so presumptuous to think I can say what you're like as a partner now because of what you were like when you were thirteen."
Alex snorted. "Twenty years is definitely a long time. For one thing, my voice almost never cracks anymore."
Ayla laughed and put a hand on his arm. "For one thing. Just be good to him, okay? I'm not saying you have to marry him, but he's treating us well. Try not to break his heart."
Alex gave her request the solemnity Ayla deserved, even if he thought the request itself was a little ridiculous. He and Derek hadn't known one another very long. The man who'd stood up to a human trafficker and calmly directed his attention, and his gun, away from a terrified girl and toward himself wasn't so delicate as to get his heart broken by a fling.
Alex had a lot more concern for his own heart right now. He'd gotten terribly attached to Derek. He didn't get that attached to men he hadn't had a pathological hatred for only a few months ago. Could a reversal this strong and this sudden possibly be real? Or was it destined to simply fade away with time, leaving Alex hollow and cold?
Again, his brain supplied helpfully. The word you're looking for is again.
Funny, he hadn't thought of himself as either cold or empty before.
The rest of the afternoon brought with it three dog bites, most of them deserved. He treated one young kid who'd been beaten up at school, but when he looked at the injuries a little more closely he realized they were both too old to have been done at school and the markings were too large and too severe to have been left by juvenile hands. He called Ms. Myles in for that one, and together they called Detective Langbroek.
He performed one surgery, on a young man who'd been hit by a car, and then his shift ended. He could head home then. As he headed west toward Van Buren, he found his mood improving. He couldn't wait to get back to the condo. It wasn't his condo he looked forward to seeing, though.
It was Derek's.
Derek and Carmela were home when he arrived. Amadi was there too. He gave Alex a steely glare before dishing out some more of the bean stew he'd brought over. "Rashida made this over the weekend. It's good."
Alex wasn't about to argue, not with Amadi giving him that look. Besides, Derek and Carmela seemed to enjoy it. "So," he said, settling into the only remaining seat. Derek's table didn't seat more than four. "How was everyone's day?"
Carmela just slumped down in her chair.
"Carmela is doing a lot better than she was when we started. I'm very proud of her, even if it's only because she got hungry." Derek winked at her, and Carmela blushed. "We've both been trying to take our mind off things, you know?"
"How's that working out for you?" Amadi lifted an eyebrow at Derek.
"It could be working better." Derek laughed at himself. "But hey, we're both still here and still breathing. That's a good start."
Amadi acknowledged this with a single nod of his head. "I got the station to let Rashida come into the studio and give a live performance," he said. "We're going to be promoting her new album."
Alex drew back in surprise. "I didn't know your girlfriend did music."
Carmela nodded with enthusiasm, although she still seeme
d to be trying to make herself as small as she could. She fired off a staccato burst of Spanish, which Derek then translated. "She says Rashida's one of the best up-and-coming new artists out there."
Amadi beamed. "I didn't know you were a fan. You should say something the next time she comes over."
Carmela's face darkened when she blushed, and she hushed down so far she seemed to be doing her best impression of a turtle. She spoke again, and Derek interpreted. "She doesn't want Rashida to think of someone like her when she makes her music." He folded his lips into a thin line and spoke to Carmela in Spanish.
Amadi leaned forward. "Carmela, I know you're not in the right place to hear this right now, but Rashida writes her music exactly for people like you, okay? She knows who you are, and she loves you."
Alex nodded. He didn't know Rashida, and he didn't know her music. He knew Carmela, though. "Anyone would," he murmured, and looked away. "We had three dog bites today," he said, by way of making Carmela more comfortable with the subject. "I swear to you, every one of them was deserved."
Carmela laughed. She might have given a nervous laugh, but it was at least a laugh. It was enough for Alex, especially when Derek's eyes shone so brightly at him.
Chapter Nine
Derek might have been overjoyed when Alex joined him for dinner, but his joy was short lived. Derek didn't see much of Alex for the rest of the week. He had to admit to some surprise, since they'd spent kind of a lot of time together before they'd taken that extra step. Once it had been taken, though, Alex seemed to back off.
He didn't back off completely, though. Not enough for Derek to cut ties and make a clean break of things, anyway. Alex sent him texts every once in a while during the week, which was enough to make part of Derek think maybe Alex hadn't just gotten what he wanted and then backed off.
He did stop by on Friday night, but there wasn't a repeat of Monday's friendly banter or Sunday's night of passion. All they did was hang out and watch a little bit of television. Toward the end of the evening, Alex bit his lip. "I'm bringing Ayla over to our parents' house on Saturday for a couple of hours."
"Oh. That's good." Derek tensed up. He wasn't sure if Alex was moving too fast on that or not, but he hadn't gotten the impression from Ayla that she was ready for this step yet. Then again, Derek wasn't an expert. Ayla was. If Ayla had consented to this, Ayla must be ready. "I'm sure your dad will be happy to keep it strictly family this time."
Alex grinned in relief. "I knew you'd get it."
Derek did not get it, or at least he hadn't. He certainly did now. "Look, you know I'm not trying to shove into family space or anything. You understand that, right?"
Alex looked away, but he nodded. "I know. I know, it's just that Dad's kind of—well, he's dad. And while I can hope he gets over all of his drama sometime soon, he hasn't yet. And we've only really known each other a few weeks."
Derek smirked. "So why get him all worked up, right?" He leaned back. "Don't worry about it, man. I'm not exactly Mr. Family, anyway. I only went for Ayla's sake, anyway."
Alex sat up a little straighter. Derek's words had obviously given him energy he hadn't had before. "So we're cool?"
"We're cool." Now it was Derek's turn to look away, and to change the subject. He hoped, when Alex left that night, he didn't notice the way Derek tensed up for his farewell kiss.
He didn't think he had much to worry about, all things considered.
He went to bed and lay back on his pillows. Sleep didn't come as he stared at his ceiling, and as every insomniac knows insomnia is the best amplifier for a man's problems. What was it about Derek, specifically, that made him such a poor choice for a partner? Why was it that everyone else got to be with someone who wanted to be with them, and the best Derek could do was someone willing to have sex with him on occasion but never, ever be seen with him in a date-like situation?
He used to think it was the foster care thing, but that wasn't it. Plenty of foster kids wound up going on to live perfectly normal, fulfilling lives. They got good jobs, they found love, they married and had children. Amadi had been with him, for crying out loud. He'd fallen in love with the most reluctant woman in the world, and they were still inseparable. No one doubted they'd still be together ten, twenty, thirty years down the road.
Whereas Derek knew there was no way he'd be anywhere but here. It hadn't bothered him before now. He liked "here." His condo wasn't big, but it was big enough that he could help someone else out if they needed it. It was big enough that he could have a couple of people over for dinner. It was a nice and clean building. It was safe. Having someone around for more had always seemed like more of a hassle than it was worth.
Then Alex had come along. Alex, who made it clear every time they interacted that there could be nothing more for them than this. Alex, whose family wanted Derek less than Alex did. Why would it bother Derek that they didn't want him? Was he getting old? Was his biological clock ticking, somehow?
Was he lonely, and he'd just never really noticed until he'd been shot?
He'd get over it eventually. Either he'd get over it, or he'd adapt. He'd have to. The rest of the problem wasn't something he could control, so he was going to have to deal.
He and Carmela spent the rest of the weekend at home, indoors. Amadi stopped by once, just to bring some food and to make sure Derek was doing his physical therapy exercises. With the exception of that visit, the two were left entirely alone. Derek didn't invite anyone else over, because he didn't want to expose them to danger in case the Greer brothers acted and because he didn't want to make Carmela uncomfortable.
They didn't offer to come by, either.
On Monday, Ayla stopped by in the afternoon. She looked paler than usual, but she sat down to discuss next steps with them with her usual crispness. "So," she said, in Spanish since they were all fluent and Carmela was most comfortable with it, "we'd all hoped to get Carmela into school sooner rather than later. Even if we could only get you into school part time, it would be healthier than having you sit around the house with your thoughts."
Carmela made a face. "I can't answer the teachers!" she said, shaking her head. "That makes me stand out. "
"Maybe a little bit." Ayla bobbed her head from side to side. "I don't know if that's such a concern right now. Getting you out and around other kids would still be better, and it might help you recover your English more quickly. It's not relevant anymore, though, because the situation with one of the Greers being out on bail makes it too difficult to keep you safe in a high school environment. If you went back to California it might be easier, but maybe not considering the way they operated."
Derek scratched his head. "So what, then, homeschooling? She's already missed enough school because of those guys. I don't like the idea of her missing out on more because of them."
Ayla shrugged, but not from apathy. "I don't like it either. Unfortunately, life isn't fair. We have to play with the hand we're given, sometimes. I'll try to get the district to send some resources this way, to minimize the disruption."
Derek steeled himself. He wasn't qualified to tutor Carmela in much of anything, but if that was what she needed then that was what she would get. He'd figure things out somehow.
Carmela glared out the window. "I hate that man," she said. "I hate Martin Greer, and everything he took from me."
Her words were perfectly understandable. They would have been perfectly understandable by Alex Brennan, too, since they came out in flawless, unaccented English.
Derek dropped the pen he'd been holding. "Carmela?"
Carmela slapped her hands over her mouth. "Did I just say that?" She reverted to Spanish for the question.
Ayla nodded and put a hand on Carmela's arm. "You did. And it's a good thing, Carmela. It means you're doing better. You're starting to recover. Don't expect it all to come rushing back in one night. It's still going to take time, but believe me when I tell you that this is a good sign."
Carmela fled back to her room to p
rocess her discovery in private, which left Derek alone with Ayla.
He gave her a little smile. "I don't want to pry, but I know you had a kind of big deal planned for this weekend. If you feel like talking about it, I'm here."
Ayla sank down onto Derek's couch. "Thank you. You know, I've been out of that family longer than I've been in it." She looked up at him. "I've been out of that family almost as long as you've been alive."
Derek huffed out a little laugh and sat across from her. "Thanks for putting it exactly that way."
She smirked. "What can I say? My big brother is totally robbing the cradle." She sobered up quickly when she saw Derek didn't show much amusement. "Anyway, this whole reunion thing is going a little strange. Did you ever think about getting back in touch with your dad?"