“So, just to make sure that I understood everything correctly. Robert somehow knew about me being a Delossantos. He felt threatened, and that’s why he wanted me dead. I disagree with him, but I understand. What is Shauna’s reason for hating you so much that she wanted not only to see you dead but me as well?” Bailey said. Marc didn’t have an answer to that question, but he would find out.
“Then, Darren Brown, aka Eddy Davis. What did you do to the guy that he wants you dead? Then there’s Alec, what’s his reason? Why does he hate you so much?” Bailey said. Bailey always thought out loud; to him, it was the best way to put things into perspective. “I don’t know, but I will find the answers to our questions,” Marc promised.
Suddenly Bailey shot upright, his eyes big. “What is it, baby?” “I know that man, the one that called himself Eddy Davis,” Bailey whispered. “Are you sure? Where do you know him from?” an alarmed Marc questioned. “About six weeks before,” Bailey paused, swallowed hard, and blinked profusely to keep the tears that slowly filled his eyes, at bay.
He sighed, and then Bailey continued in a soft voice. “Darren bought flowers every Friday; he bought a bouquet of mixed field flowers, six Fridays in a row.” Bailey paused again, and this time he wasn’t able to keep the tears at bay. After a few minutes, he went on in a choked-up voice, “That was until Brendan was killed. After that, I never saw him again.”
That got Marc’s attention. “Shit,” he cursed. “Yeah, shit,” Bailey echoed because he too knew what that meant. They probably had kept an eye on Bailey before Marc had even noticed the Flower Hut and its handsome owner. Had Darren been interested in Bailey or Brendan? Was Brendan’s death not an error? Had they actually murdered Brendan because they were after him?
Bailey had thought the same thing; Marc could tell by the expression on the man’s face. “Was Darren after Brendan or after me? And why?” Bailey sounded angry as tears were streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t know how, but I will find the answer to that question,” Marc promised. Bailey nodded.
The cops had questioned Marc, Bailey, Lucas, and Mario until the mob boss had pulled some strings, and suddenly the cops had backed off. Marc didn’t know how Mario had pulled that off, and he didn’t want to know. Shauna Blake, Robert Delossantos, and Arnulfo Jones were in custody. Darren Brown was dead, and Alec Woods, Marc’s former lover, had disappeared.
“Will Alec return to try and finish the job?” Bailey softly questioned. Marc frowned; he had asked himself that very same question. “Yes, I believe so. The way that I see it is that Alec is a man on a mission. I can’t predict what he will do next because I don’t know this Alec. To me, that man is a stranger,” Marc replied. Bailey understood; he really did.
Marc took Bailey’s face in his hands and looked intently in those beautiful big green eyes. He softly said, “I know that you have trouble with my past as an assassin. Do you think that you can get past that, and we can start planning our future? To love and trust me?”
“I asked myself that same question, and the answer is yes. You are a good man, even though you killed people for money. They were bad guys, rotten to the core, I know. Still, I’m glad that you retired,” Bailey replied. Marc knew that he had to come clean about one more thing. He hoped and prayed that Bailey wouldn’t change his mind after what he had to say.
Chapter Thirty Eight
Bailey sat under the pear tree; it was where he could clear his mind and think. He still was reeling from the knowledge that it had been Marc who had shot and killed Fabian, his twin brother. All this time, Marc had known that Bailey was Fabian’s twin. The man hadn’t said anything about it.
Bailey didn’t know what to do right now. Bailey couldn’t deny the fact that he loved Marc. He didn’t want to, but when it came to love, there wasn’t an on and off switch. He just had to deal with it and maybe forget about Marc.
The construction company had started rebuilding the flower shop and his apartment. Yes, maybe he should move out of the mansion because the danger was dealt with; the perpetrators were either dead or in custody. Bailey thought about where he could stay until his apartment and the shop was rebuilt.
He did know a place where he could stay; hell, he owned it. Since Bailey couldn’t come up with another place to stay, he knew he didn’t have another choice. Besides, Brendan would have demanded that he would live in the apartment above Vintage Treasures.
Bailey had asked Keith to look after the apartment after Brendan’s death. Now it was time that he took over. Yep, it was time to let Marc know that he wouldn’t be staying any longer at the mansion.
Bailey entered the house but came to an abrupt halt when he heard voices, which belonged to Byron and Marc. “Bailey needs protection because as long as Alec roams the streets, he isn’t safe. I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to him. If Alec wants Bailey, then he has to go through me. There’s no way that I let him hurt Bailey,” Marc said.
Hearing those words made Bailey doubt if he should leave Marc. The man loved him so much, and he felt the same. Why did he feel like that? Fabian had to be a monster; otherwise, Marc wouldn’t have killed him. Still, why did it feel so wrong that Marc had killed Fabian? Maybe because he had never gotten the chance to get to know Fabian?
Then, another question came to mind. Did Mario know who had killed his son? After all, it was his son. He would talk to his father this afternoon. Bailey wanted to visit Mario, Dan, and Keith at the hospital.
“Hey, baby? Is everything alright?” Marc asked when he saw Bailey standing on the threshold. “I need to talk to you,” Bailey softly said. Marc frowned but nodded. Byron excused himself and left. Marc sat down and motioned for Bailey to join him; he declined.
“I’m moving out,” Bailey said. For a moment, Marc seemed lost for words, then he said, “Is it because of Fabian?” That was Marc, always straightforward. “Partly, yes. But I need to get things into perspective, and I can’t do that when I’m here, with you. I need time, Marc,” Bailey replied.
Even though Marc was thrown off-kilter, he would never keep Bailey against his will, but the fact was that his ex-lover Alec Woods still was at large. Marc needed to know if Bailey still loved him; he had to know where they stood. “I won’t stop you from moving out, even though I hate the idea of you sleeping somewhere else. Tell me, do we still have a chance together? If so, then I will give you all the time that you need,” Marc’s quietly said.
Bailey saw the pain in Marc’s eyes, and he felt like shit because he had put that pain there. Still, he needed time to think things through about what he really wanted. And if Bailey could forgive Marc for killing his twin.
Bailey shook his head. “I wish that I could answer with yes, but that would be a lie,” he replied, and his heart hurt when he saw the pain in Marc’s eyes. “It’s just; I don’t know. I love you, I love you so much, and that scares the hell out of me. I don’t want to start our relationship with lies or doubts. I need to be sure before I commit to you.”
Bailey tried to be as honest as possible. “I hope that you give me the time that I need,” Bailey finished. Marc was devastated, but he didn’t have a choice. If Bailey needed time, then he would give the man as much time as he needed.
Marc thought of the words his mother had once said to him. “To love someone means to let go, and if that love is strong enough, then that person will return.” So, Marc didn’t have another choice than to trust his mother’s words. Besides, Marc would never force Bailey to stay.
“I won’t force you to stay with me, but you need to be careful because Alec is still at large. The man won’t stop hunting you. If not me, then at least let your father protect you,” Marc said, and even though he sounded calm, Bailey could see the hurt.
“I will talk to my father about it,” Bailey promised. “But I’m not worried. I don’t believe that Alec is still around. He will come back for me, of that I’m certain. But for now, I think that he needs to regroup,” Bailey added. Marc nodded. “I do love you, Marc,” Bai
ley whispered, then he turned and left the room. To leave the man he loved so much was the hardest thing that Bailey ever had done.
“Of course, you will get the protection that you need. But, are you sure about Marc? That man is nuts about you,” Mario sat upright in his hospital bed. “More men are already on their way as we speak. Plus, I rented a place just outside of town. Maybe it would be better if you moved in with me, for the time being. It’s safer than the apartment above the antique shop,” Mario said as he looked expectantly at his youngest son.
After his talk with Marc, Bailey had packed his belongings and had put them in the car Mario had bought for him. It wasn’t a big car because Bailey didn’t like to drive those huge SUVs that Mario had offered to buy for him.
Bailey promised to think about Mario’s offer to move in with him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to live with his father because he really needed alone time. Then again, he would be safe at Mario’s house. Ah, choices, choices. Bailey went to see Dan and Keith; both men were still in the hospital. Keith and Dan would be released in two days if there were no complications.
When Bailey left the hospital, he felt a tingling in his neck. He glanced around, but everything seemed in order. But what did he know? Bailey wasn’t a trained bodyguard, or mob boss, because they always noticed when something was wrong.
Bailey went to the Antique shop that once had belonged to Brendan and climbed the stairs to the apartment. He opened the door and carefully stepped inside. He noticed that it smelled fresh, and the rooms were tidy. It was like Brendan would return home any minute.
Bailey sighed because he didn’t know what he had expected, but the apartment was cleaned, and all of Brendan’s personal belongings were in storage until Bailey decided what to do with it. He knew all of that because he had to consent; still, it was strange to see the apartment after such a long time.
Bailey hadn’t set a foot inside the apartment since Brendan’s death. Now, he didn’t have much choice. He knew that his brother had wanted him to move into the apartment. Bailey unpacked; well, there wasn’t much to unpack, not really. There were his clothes and toiletries. He placed the photo of him and Brendan on the antique dresser that was in the living room.
Marc had surprised him when he had sent some pictures of Bailey’s Facebook page to the print shop, where, after printing, they had put the photos in lovely silver frames as well. Bailey had been touched by the gesture, and Marc had looked so pleased.
Bailey turned the radio on and searched for music that he liked; then, he made a list of groceries he would need. There wasn’t any food in the apartment. Thinking of food should have made Bailey feel hungry, but it made him feel nauseous instead. He decided to buy some groceries anyway, just in case he would get hungry. Even though he said he wasn’t worried about Alec, Bailey scanned his surroundings when he left the apartment while going to the supermarket.
Bailey was putting butter into the shopping cart when someone tapped him on the shoulder, making him jump. It was a customer who bought lily’s every week.
After telling the man that he was doing fine and that he didn’t need to worry, Bailey continued checking his list so that he wouldn’t forget anything. He didn’t want to go back for one or two things that he had forgotten. Bailey had to admit, at least to himself, that he was nervous. He didn’t feel safe anymore, damn Alec, that bastard.
When Bailey got back into the apartment, his phone light blinked, signaling that he had a voicemail. Bailey hadn’t taken his phone with him to the grocery store, which was stupid. Marc had urged him to carry his phone at all times, just in case he needed help.
Bailey took the phone and listened to the voicemail. He didn’t know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn’t hearing Alec’s voice. “Bailey? I’m coming for you, and I’ll come for Marc as well. I won’t rest until both of you are dead, cold, and buried.”
Bailey didn’t hear the rest because he threw the phone on the couch. He was shaking like a leaf. It was scary to hear the mad man threaten him and Marc. “Oh, God, Marc,” Bailey whispered. He needed to warn Marc that he had it all wrong. Alec still was near, and Marc was in danger, and the man didn’t know.
Chapter Thirty Nine
Bailey nearly got a heart attack when the doorbell rang. No one knew that he moved into Brendan’s apartment. Hell, he hadn’t even known until this morning, so who could it be? “I’m slowly getting paranoid; man up, Bailey. Man up and open the door,” Bailey mumbled to himself.
He slowly moved toward the front door and jumped when the doorbell rang again. “Who is it?” Bailey asked through the closed door. “Delivery for Mr. Bailey Hudson,” said the voice. Bailey didn’t hesitate and opened the door; the man handed him his package; Bailey thanked him and closed the door again.
Bailey didn’t think, opened the package, and screamed in horror. In front of him was the cardboard box, and in it was a dead cat. The smell was awful. Bailey ran to the bathroom because he was about to throw up his, well, nothing because he still hadn’t eaten anything today.
Because his stomach had been empty, he threw up bile instead of food, which was so awful. After the dry-heaving had stopped, Bailey brushed his teeth and was at a loss of what to do. The smell that came out of the living room was so God damned nasty. Bailey decided to call Marc because Keith was still in the hospital, as was Mario. Shit, would the man come to the rescue after he basically had left him? Well, one way to find out.
Bailey covered his mouth with a wet cloth, rushed into the living room, and grabbed his phone. “Hey Bailey,” Marc answered on the first ring. “Marc? Help me, please?” It was all Bailey could say because he stiffened when the doorbell rang again.
“Bailey? Bailey? Talk to me, baby,” Marc sounded worried. “Marc, can you come and get me, please. I’m scared. There’s a dead cat, and now someone is at the door again.” Bailey was in full panic mode, and he didn’t answer Marc anymore. “Bailey? Bailey, listen to me. Whatever you do, don’t open the door. I’m on my way, baby,” Marc said.
Bailey sat in the corner of the bedroom when Marc banged on the front door. “Baby, it’s me, Marc. Open the door, please,” Marc called. It took several minutes before Marc heard the door getting unlocked, and a second later, he had a trembling Bailey in his arms.
“It’s alright; you’re safe now. I’m here, and I won’t let anything happen to you,” Marc promised in a soothing tone. When Bailey didn’t react, Marc took his face in his hands and forced Bailey to look him in the eyes. “I’m here, baby. Bailey? Look at me, open your eyes, and look at me. I’m here, and you are safe,” Marc pulled Bailey tightly to his chest as he kept repeating the words in a soothing tone.
It was then that Marc noticed the pungent smell; he lifted his head, sniffed the air, and wrinkled his nose. “Come, baby. Let’s get you out of here,” he said while he gently guided Bailey toward the front door. Bailey didn’t protest, and for that, Marc was thankful.
On his way to the car, Marc took the phone out of his jeans pocket and hit speed dial. Byron answered at the first ring because he knew that Marc was rescuing a frantic Bailey. “What’s up?” Byron asked. “I need to get Bailey home, and could you take care of a dead cat in the apartment?” Marc asked. “There really is a dead cat?” Byron questioned. “Yep, someone sent it to Bailey,” Marc replied. “I’m on my way,” Byron said.
Marc parked the car in the garage, and they went through the door that let them directly into the house. On their way to the orchard, Marc grabbed two bottles of water. Bailey hadn’t said a word since Marc had set foot in the apartment, and he was getting worried about Bailey’s state of mind. After all, the man had been through a lot the previous weeks.
Bailey sat down under the pear tree, the one place that he seemed to find his peace and quiet. Marc held the water bottle in front of Bailey and was surprised that he took the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took a few big gulps. “How are you feeling, baby?” Marc carefully asked.
Bailey sighed; he eyed Ma
rc and finally said, “I don’t know how I feel. I want away from you, but at the same time, I want you to hold me and never let me go. I need solace, but I need to be with you too. Does that make any sense?”
Assassins the Florist Book One Part One Page 22