by Jane Charles
I meet his concerned, dark eyes. “No.”
“Fair enough.” He stands. “But, you aren’t moving out, Kels.”
I just roll my eyes.
“The guys won’t like it. I won’t like it.” He glances down at the list. “And if you actually rent one of these places, expect one of us to be sleeping on your couch every night.”
I did try to sleep, but it was impossible. Not that the bed or the couch weren’t comfortable, but guilt ate away and my mind wouldn’t shut down. I sit up and glance around. This apartment had once belonged to Martha and Peggy, but they decided to move to a nicer place, away from the tattoo parlor because with living upstairs, they couldn’t get away from the job. It was still used, on occasion, and Martha did clean up here on a regular basis, but for the most part, it went unused.
Maybe it’s best if I just move in here. Give Kelsey some space.
But, I don’t want to give her permanent space. We do need to talk about this again, eventually, when the sting of what I’ve done isn’t so fresh.
At least I hope she’ll talk to me again.
I rub my eyes and walk into the bathroom, wishing I would have brought a change of clothes. But, I didn’t plan on being gone all night either, and I’m still not ready to return home. It’s not so much that I’m hiding as it’s just that I don’t want to face the guys just yet. I’m pretty sure Kelsey has told them everything, and I’m not in the mood to hear their opinions when I feel guilty enough as it is.
And, I know damn well I can’t face Kelsey yet. Not until I have a way to make up to her what I’ve done.
So, instead of feeling sorry for myself, which I do anyway, I lock up the place and head to the 24-hour store that carries everything from groceries to toiletries and clothing, and buy just enough to get me by for a week. I also stop by the cellphone store and get another charger. Everything I own, except for my wallet and cell phone are back at the brownstone. But, I can do without all the rest of it for a few days. Right now, I just need to be alone to figure out how to make everything up to Kelsey, give her space and figure out this new business I have.
By the time I get back to the apartment, I have just enough time to shower and head to the hospital. My stomach churns. What if it’s too late? What if the letters are destroyed?
I take a deep breath and step into the family waiting room and take the seat I sat in the night before and watch the hall. Visiting hours begin in half an hour and if Mrs. Cross isn’t here already, I’ll be able to talk to her before she heads to her daughter’s room. If she is already in there, I’ll wait until she gets out.
And just as the clock strikes ten, Mrs. Cross comes down the hall for the start of visiting hours. I step into her path before she can turn down the corridor leading to her daughter.
“What are you doing here again?”
“What did you do with the box of letters?”
She pulls back. “That is none of your business.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Does Miss Fry want them back? She should have known better than to give them to me.”
My stomach tightens with her anger. If they are ash or in the garbage, there is no chance Kelsey will ever forgive me.
“Kelsey didn’t know I gave them to you, until last night.”
Her eyes go wide. “What do you mean?”
“I knew she was writing and keeping them for the future. I thought that maybe if you understood, you’d let her see Madison.”
“What kind of game are you playing, Mr….”
“Alex. Alex Dosek, and I’m not playing any games.”
“First you come here with a box of letters, hoping to gain my sympathy and then you want them back. How can I be certain that this isn’t something Miss Fry cooked up to get me to change my mind?”
“Kelsey had nothing to do with this. In fact, she’s pissed as hell.”
“What did she intend to do with them, if not make sure they got to my daughter?”
“She’d hoped to give them to Madison after she was 18, if she got a chance to meet her.” I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “She wanted to give them to her in hopes that she’d understand why she gave her up and would hopefully forgive her one day.”
Some of the anger slips away from Mrs. Cross. “She had nothing to do with this?” she asks cautiously.
“None,” I insist. “She just wants them back.”
Mrs. Cross purses her lips. “Well, she’s not getting them back.”
It’s like a vice tightens around my heart, and I force away the panic. “What did you do with them?”
“Do with them?” It’s almost like she’s confused by the question.
“Did you destroy them?” I hold my breath and wait for her answer.
“Of course not!”
Mrs. Cross is almost affronted by the very idea that I’d even suggest such a thing and my heart beat finally returns to a normal rhythm as the knot around my gut loosens.
“Do you plan on destroying them?” I ask cautiously.
She just studies me. “I’m not a monster, Mr. Dosek.”
“I didn’t claim you are. But you just told me that you aren’t going to give them back either.”
“I’m not finished with them.”
Shit! She is reading them. It’s bad enough that I took them. Now Brandy’s mother is reading the private words that were meant only for Brandy. “When you are done?” I ask hopefully.
“That is yet to be determined.”
I pull a card from my wallet. I’ll need to get new ones with Just Ink About it, but the telephone number is the same. “Please call me when you are finished and let me know where I can pick them up.”
“If I contact anyone, Mr. Dosek, it will be Kelsey.” With that, she turns on her heel and marches down the hall to her daughter’s room.
At least they haven’t been destroyed. Yet.
It’s growing dark by the time Christian and I get back to the brownstone. He was right. I don’t want to live in any of those apartments, and I’m pretty sure I still wouldn’t feel safe even if one of the guys were sleeping on the couch. Not that I’d impose on them like that.
So, it’s back to the computer and more searching.
“Alex come back?” Christian asks as we step inside.
I hold my breath, afraid he is here.
“No,” answers Dylan. “Nobody has heard from him since he walked out last night.
The tension I’d been holding because I’m not certain what will happen the next time I see Alex quickly turns to worry. “Nobody has heard from him?”
“Nope,” says Ryan. “And, he isn’t answering his phone or returning texts.”
My worry is quickly escalating to panic. What if something happened to him? He has no family, so there is nobody to call if the worst of the worst happened.
My heart’s beating hard against my chest, and it’s getting difficult to take a breath.
This is my fault. I shouldn’t have kicked him out. But, I was so angry and hurt.
Why didn’t he just go to his room or hang with the guys? He didn’t have to leave, and now something may have happened to him.
“Slow down, Kels,” Sean says with a chuckle.
“Slow down?”
“You just went from being pissed at Alex to him being murdered and buried.”
My face heats. I did kind of just do that.
“I’m sure he’s fine.”
“In the meantime, come eat,” orders Dylan.
My stomach grumbles, but I’m not exactly hungry either. How can I eat when Alex is out there, possibly injured, and nobody knows.
He just stares are me. “When is the last time you ate?”
I shrug.
“Dinner last night?”
“Um, probably.”
Dylan points to the chair. “Sit!” Then he marches into the kitchen.
The rest of the guys just look at me, expecting me to obey.
“Fine!” I roll my eyes and walk
to the dining room table and sit just as Dylan brings out a plate. The spices from the enchiladas, rice and beans make my mouth water.
I guess I am hungry after all.
He brings another plate to Christian and then Zach pours wine for everyone, and they take a seat at the table and stare at me.
No. This isn’t uncomfortable at all.
“What’s going on?” Ryan asks.
And, there goes my appetite, but I force a bite down anyway. I do need to eat, and I have no food upstairs or a way to cook it since I don’t have appliances.
“She won’t tell me either,” Christian tells them.
“It’s between Alex and me,” I finally say.
They still stare at me.
“What did he do?” Ryan finally asks.
“What makes you think it was him. It may have been me.”
He snorts. “I don’t think you could do anything to upset Alex.”
“He’s got it too bad,” says Sean says. ‘So, how did he fuck up what you two got going?”
He did fuck up. Big time. But I’m not telling these guys. It’s not my place, and Alex is their close friend. Instead of answering, I take a drink of wine and then another bite of the enchilada. It practically melts on my tongue.
The front door opens and I stiffen, ready to grab my plate and a glass of wine and head upstairs in case it is Alex. I’ll be happy that he’s unharmed, but I’m not ready to talk to him yet. I’m not sure when or if I’ll ever be able to talk to him. His betrayal still cuts deep, and it’s almost painful to think about the lost letters.
Mia steps into the living room and then closes her eyes as she inhales. “Any left for me?”
I blow out a breath and relax.
“Sure, have a seat,” Dylan says as he goes into the kitchen.
As soon as she’s seated, she looks at me. “So, what did Alex do?”
Does she have ESP or something? “Why?”
“I just spent the day with him. He is crabby as hell, hasn’t slept and the only thing he’ll tell me is that he fucked up and is trying to make it right.”
“Well, he did fuck up,” I say before scooping up rice onto my fork.
“What did he do?”
Everyone focuses on me again. “It’s between me and Alex.”
“See, I knew it was him,” Ryan says after a minute, and I’m so glad they didn’t press for any more details.
“Why were you with Alex all day?” Zach asks.
“I was helping him understand the business and bookkeeping for the tattoo place.” Mia knocks on her head with the tip of her index finger. “Finally using that business degree I got.”
“You work in an office,” Sean reminds her.
“I’m a piddly-ass bookkeeper. All I do is crunch numbers and write checks all day. But today, I got to help Alex start a business plan.” She grins.
“He was there all night?” I find myself asking. At least he is okay, and that is all that matters. I might be mad at him, but I didn’t want anything to happen to him either.
“Yep. There’s an apartment upstairs that nobody uses. Said he’s going to hang out there for a few days.”
Crap! “Tell him to come home. I’ll leave.”
“I don’t think it’s you he is avoiding,” Mia says as Dylan puts a plate before her. “He knows the guys are going to give him shit too, and he’s still trying to fix the mess he made.”
They all look at me again with curiosity in their eyes.
“I’m not telling you guys anything.” With that, I get up from the table and go upstairs because I’m afraid I’ll tell them everything. Those letters are too private and personal, and even though Alex took them away, that doesn’t mean I want to tell everyone about them. Enough of my personal life is out there, and I don’t want to share anymore.
My phone rings, and I take the call from Mia. I’ve been avoiding everyone else because I don’t want to get chewed out by my roommates.
“They don’t know anything,” she blurts out.
“What?”
“I just left the brownstone. Kelsey looks like shit, and the guys are trying to get her to tell them what happened.”
First, it’s impossible for Kelsey to look like shit, but if she does, it’s all my fault. “They know it’s my fault, don’t they?”
“Well, they didn’t until I told them. She’s said nothing.”
I appreciate Kelsey’s loyalty, but it wasn’t necessary. I sure as hell don’t deserve it. Not after what I’ve done.
“And, she’s looking for a place to live.”
“Shit! She told you that?”
“No. The guys did, after she went upstairs. She and Christian were out looking today, but he won’t let her move into any of those places.”
“Thank God!” If she moves out, I’ll never see her again or get the chance to make this up to her. If there is even a chance I can.
“She’s going to keep looking, Alex,” Mia warns. “She doesn’t think it’s right that she lives there when you aren’t. It’s your home, in her mind, and not hers.”
This is so fucking screwed up. I’m a fucking screw-up.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” She finally asks.
“No.” If Kelsey didn’t want to talk about it, he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell the guys about her letters. I’ve done enough damage already.
“This must be bad if hottie with the power tools had to call me.”
I glance up and find Mary standing at the entry to my room.
“I would have preferred Kitchen Hottie call because he wanted to see me, but it’s all about you.” She sighs.
“Sean called you?” Then I frown. “How did he get your number?”
Mary closes the door. “I may have put it in his contacts when he left his phone on the counter while he was fixing the door.” Then she grins. “You know. Just in case he needed to reach you and couldn’t.”
I snort. “I’m surprised you didn’t put it in Dylan’s phone.”
Her face turns pink. “Actually, I was hoping it was Dylan’s phone.”
The laughter bubbles up. It feels good to laugh. “Why are you even back in New York? Aren’t you on break?”
After she comes up the stairs, Mary tosses her coat on a chair and lets her purse drop to the floor. “Got back yesterday. Just because break started for school, doesn’t mean my rotation at the hospital stops. We got time off for Christmas, but it’s time to go back.”
“Are you still in the ER, or have they moved you to a new area?” Mary started her rotation there right before break, but I’ve forgotten how long each rotation lasts.
“I’ve only had a few nights in the ER and many more to go, but after that, it’s off to labor and delivery.”
“When do you have to start back?”
“New Year’s Eve.” Mary laughs. “Baptism by fire, they call it.” She laughs. “The ER will be busier than usual. They’ll still get everything from basic injuries that can happen anywhere and heart attacks to alcohol poisoning and bad car accidents because some people are still too stupid to not drink and drive. They say it’s one of the busiest nights.”
“Sucks to be you.”
“I’ll probably get stuck with the drunks and get puked on all night.”
“At least you’ll be doing something,” I grumble.
“No Alex? What’s going on?”
“What did Sean tell you?” I counter.
“Just that the two of you had a blow up that nobody knows anything about it, except everyone agrees Alex fucked up.”
“That’s pretty much it.”
“Um, that’s not any of it. They are worried about you. You don’t leave your apartment and have hardly eaten anything.” She looks me over and frowns. “Spill!”
I do need to talk to someone. I can’t talk to the guys because I don’t want them in the middle of this, and Mary is about the only friend I have that isn’t connected to the people in this house. She’d like to be connected to
Dylan, physically, but he doesn’t seem interested in doing any connecting.
“Okay, when was the argument?” she asks.
“Friday.”
“What about since? Are you still fighting?”
She’s studying me, so I close my laptop and look away.
“You have talked to him, haven’t you?” she asks slowly.
“No. He left and never came back.” That’s what bugs me the most. Alex hasn’t come back. It’s as if he’s waiting for me to leave, but I don’t have anywhere to go. There is always a shelter, but I start teaching next week. I can’t be working all day and worrying about where I’ll sleep at night. Plus, there is the whole bathing, clean clothing, grading papers and all that I need to worry about too. Now is not the time to be on the streets.
But, Alex hasn’t called me either. It’s as if when he walked out, it was for good. At the time, I was hurt. Really, really hurt, and my trust in him had been shattered. But that was days ago. Even if I’m still angry, is it worth throwing away what was started? Or, is he a guy who bails the first time something really bad goes wrong? If he is, do I want him anyway?
I love him. Despite everything, I do love him. But, I’m not sure if I can trust him.
“Kelsey.” Mary waves a hand in front of my face.
“What?”
“Tell me what happened.”
For a moment I just stare at her, and then I let it all spill out. It isn’t as if she doesn’t know about Brandy.
“I’ve seen that box in your room a few times,” she finally says. “And it’s full of letters you’ve written since she was born?”
“Actually, some are from before she was born. I just had them in my room. Then, when the hospital accidently gave me the box with all the keepsakes, I stashed the rattle in it and hid it in my backpack.” I smile at the memories. “I call it the Rattle Box.”
“And nobody ever found out?” She asks in disbelief.
“I hid it at school, and when I left, I kept it with my stuff.” I shrug. “It was mine. It was personal.” My anger is starting to build. “He took what was mine. What was meant for my daughter and gave it to that woman.”