Ctrl Z

chapter 17: The Other Side of the Window

Jude’s body was warm and sated, his mind settled in a way it hadn’t been in weeks. For the first time in countless nights, he’d slept soundly. He knew the reason for the change: Indigo was in his arms. The bedroom was dim as morning came to the city, the light filtering through the curtains leaving them in a hazy twilight, the sound of traffic rising like rushing water outside the window. Indigo was curled in a ‘c’ next to him, her face on the pillow by his shoulder. In sleep she looked younger. Her lips, parted, had a child’s cupid’s bow, her lashes a fringe of brown two shades darker than the long hair that swirled over her cheek and across the pillow.

Smiling, Jude reached out, brushing his thumb over her lips. He’d had a handful of girlfriends over the years – some serious, some not – but he’d never felt like this before. His fingers lingered, tracing up the narrow line of her cheek, and over the curve of her eyebrow. Feeling it, she wrinkled her nose, her lashes fluttering open. Her gaze was soft for a second longer, then sharp as she caught him watching her.

“Jude,” she breathed.

The way she said his name always felt like she meant more to it. That she’d uncovered some secret side of him that even he didn’t know.

“You sleep okay?” he asked. He didn’t want this to end, wanted to stay closed away in the bedroom with her forever.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I did.” The smile spread until it reached her eyes, and Jude grinned in response.

“I did too.”

Indigo yawned, stretching, the sheet dropping down to her ribs, exposing the curve of full breasts and lean stretch of ribs.

“What time is it?” she sighed, rolling onto her back. “I’ve got a class at nine.”

Jude dragged his eyes away, turning onto his side and checking his phone.

“Little after eight.” He set the phone back down, tracing the line of her hip through the thin layer of the sheets. “You need to head home to grab some clothes?”

“I brought a change,” she said, “just need a bathroom and a minute to clean up.”

Jude leaned closer, and her expression changed, growing wary. He touched his lips to hers. The kiss was softer than the ones they’d shared last night, full of longing. He finally pulled back, his hands combing her hair off her face.

“I’m glad you texted yesterday,” he said.

“Glad you answered. I wasn’t sure you would.”

Jude pushed the guilt away. He wouldn’t think about that right now. Not when she was here with him.

“I’ll do better,” he said, laying his face down on the pillow next to hers. It was on the tip of his tongue to promise other things too, but he didn’t dare. Instead he kissed her again, the two of them delaying a few minutes longer.

The alarm on Jude’s phone chimed and he groaned, rolling off of her. Indigo sat up, crossing the floor, naked, and grabbing her pack from next to the door. Jude watched her hungrily as she pulled on a bra and panties and a black turtleneck sweater, followed by the same jeans she’d been wearing last night. She leaned to the side, brushing her hair with her fingers, before flipping it back up. Two minutes after waking, and she looked better than any woman Jude had ever met.

“Back in a minute,” she said, heading to the door and stepping into the hallway.

Jude dressed in silence, a contented smile on his face. He wasn’t scheduled in the Tech Department until ten, but he’d go in early. All the moments he’d missed with Indigo now felt like wasted time.

Since she was still in the bathroom, he tucked his phone and wallet into his jacket pocket, wandering to the living room. His eyes widened in shock. Marq sat on the couch, dressed in his work clothes, a line of energy drinks lined up on the coffee table, laptop propped up in front of him. It was a rare day that Marq got up before Jude, especially if he’d been drinking the night before.

“Morning,” Jude said. “You’re up early.”

“Trying to get a project done,” Marq muttered.

“What's the rush?”

Marq clicked save, looking up. “That guy I was telling you about called back.” He turned back to the screen, typing again. “Kevin. No – Keith. Anyhow, I told him I had to finish this other thing first.” He began typing again. “Then I’d talk to him about his project.”

“I thought you were saying no to him,” Jude said.

“Turns out this guy is made of cash,” he snorted. “Gonna meet with him when things slow down.”

“What’re you doing for him?”

“Not sure,” Marq admitted. “I’m supposed to get the details about the project when we meet. Guy’s a bit paranoid,” he laughed.

“Huh,” Jude grunted, irritated, though he couldn’t explain why.

Marq looked over. “You watch, buddy. Give me a couple months and I'll be rolling in dough.”

The arrogance of Marq’s tone didn’t surprise Jude, but it worried him. In the hallway behind the two men, a door opened, and the click of heels sounded. Jude stepped toward Marq, dropping his voice.

“You’re not worried about how King’s gonna take you doing other jobs on the side?”

Marq shrugged. “It’s my business, not his,” he said sullenly. “Nothing to do with him at all.”

Jude opened his mouth to argue, just as Indigo walked into the room. Marq’s fingers paused on the keyboard, his mouth widening into a lewd grin.

“Well, hello gorgeous,” he said, using the exaggerated voice Marq always affected around women. “How’re you doin’?”

Indigo rolled her eyes. “Nice to see you too, Marq,” she said tartly.

“Y’know,” Marq said, pushing his laptop onto the couch’s cushions and leaning against the back. “You should come out to party with us sometime. There’re some great clubs downtown, if you know the right people to get in.”

“Marq!” Jude groaned.

Indigo’s lips pursed. “Thank you,” she said, icily polite, “but I’ve been to plenty of clubs.”

“Yeah, but not clubs like—”

“We should really get going,” Jude interrupted before Marq could make this any more uncomfortable. “Indigo’s got class this morning and I don’t want her to be late.”

In seconds they were out the door, Marq’s laughing voice following them into the hallway.

“It was great to finally meet your GIRLFRIEND, Jude!”

: : : : : : : : : :

Within days, Jude realized that Indigo had set out some unspoken limits to their relationship. He was pretty sure, for instance, that she hadn’t ever intended to take him back to her apartment. When they went out, he dropped her off at the door, or picked her up outside, but he was never invited in.

Then fate intervened.

Indigo’s video project was almost complete when it started dropping individual frames on export. The day that it happened, Professor Yamamoto called the Tech Department and Kimbra spent half an hour sorting through the Media Exporter, but she wasn’t able to fix it. At coffee break, Indigo was so furious, she told Jude she was considering starting the project all over again. With her extra coursework, she just didn’t have time to fool around with a computer error.

Jude assured her he could solve the issue. He didn’t know how, but he knew there was a way. He promised to come by her apartment after dinner with his laptop. They could upload all her files onto his hard drive, and he could figure out where it was messing up, and possibly write a patch if it was needed. It wasn’t something he’d ever consider doing if this was any other student, but it wasn’t.

This was Indigo.

Arriving, he pressed the apartment button, and Indigo buzzed him through, warning him to take the stairs, not the elevator. When he reached the fourth floor, she was already in the doorway, wringing her hands.

“You alright?” Jude asked. “You look upset.”

She gave him a tight smile. “Tanis cancelled on dinner, so my roommate, Shireese, is still here.”

“And?”

“I’ve kind of… told her about you.”

For a second Jude had the irrational thought that she meant about working for the mob, but that made no sense. Indigo had no idea what he did in the hours between work and seeing her.

“Um, okay?”

Indigo glanced over her shoulder into the apartment and then back. “It’s not actually you,” she explained. “It’s just that I have a bad track record with guys. And Shireese knows that.”

Jude grinned. “So I’m the exception?” he laughed.

“Jude,” she said. “I’m not kidding here.”

His grin softened, and he reached out to cup her cheek. “I’m not kidding either.”

Shireese, as it turned out, was the same friend he’d met at O’Reilly’s in the spring. The person Indigo had left the bar with, rather than waiting for him at the table. When Indigo led him to the kitchen, Shireese was cleaning. She turned, raising her eyebrows.

“Shireese,” Indigo said nervously. “I um, I don’t know if you remember Jude or not.”

She smirked, drying her hands on a dishtowel before reaching out and offering her open palm.

“Oh, I remember you alright,” she said, her eyes drifting up and down. “You’re the frat boy.”

Indigo winced, but Jude smiled.

“Never actually pledged,” he said, reaching out and shaking her hand. “And I graduated a couple years ago.”

Shireese nodded, putting her hands on her hips. “You got a job?”

“Shireese!” Indigo hissed. “I TOLD you this already!”

“Yes,” Jude answered. “I work at the Tech Department at the university.”

She tipped her head to the side. “Permanent position or part-time work?”

“Stop it!” Indigo cried.

“Permanent,” he said, “though I do some contract work on the side too.” (That was still the truth, if you squinted.)

“That’s good,” Shireese said, nodding. “Thinking ahead.”

“Don’t even start, Shireese,” Indigo growled. She looked ready to attack.

“What?” Shireese snorted. “I’m not doing a thing to him! He doesn’t have to answer.”

‘Like hell I don’t!’ Jude thought.

“So how about you?” he asked, turning the questions back around. “What do you do?”

“For a living?” she asked, “or because I live to do it. Those’re two different questions, y’know.”

Jude stared at her for a moment. He’d never really thought of it that way, but it was true.

“Both, I guess.”

“Well, to earn enough to pay my half o’ this rat-hole,” Shireese said, leaning against the cupboard, “I do custodial work. Not a fancy position or nice, but it’s a good steady job, and the company I work for has a union. I’ve done it for years.” She nodded to Indigo. “It’s how we met, actually.”

“Please, Shireese,” Indigo gasped. The sound of her voice surprised Jude enough that he turned. Her eyes were wide and terrified, face bloodless.

“It’s fine,” Shireese snarled.

Jude turned back to her. “And the other stuff you do?” he prompted.

“Oh, I love to cook,” she laughed. “I’ve been working on saving up recipes since I was a kid. Some day me and Tanis are gonna run a restaurant.” She winked. “Gotta save a bit to start first, but… yeah. That’s my hope.”

“Your get-out-of-Dodge plan,” Jude said.

“Never heard it called that,” Shireese chuckled, “but yeah. So how about you, Jude? Where’re you headed? In the long term, I mean.” Her eyes drifted knowingly to Indigo.

“I swear to God!” Indigo barked, “I’m gonna kill you for this!” She grabbed Jude’s arm, dragging him out of the kitchen before he could answer.

“It was nice to meet you, Shireese!” Jude called.

“You too, hon,” she laughed.

: : : : : : : : : :

Jude’s usual schedule was to visit Elliot every second day. He’d missed that standing appointment yesterday, so he was rushing when he arrived at the second floor trauma ward. He jogged down the hallway, slowing as he passed the nurses’ station, then picking up his speed on the other side.

Elliot had been moved from ICU a few days earlier, though the long process of recovery had barely begun. Jude was almost to the door when it opened, and a uniformed officer walked out of Elliot’s room. She had ebony skin and full lips, dark eyes sharp and inquisitive. Jude stopped a few feet away from her, and the woman’s gaze snapped onto him. He had the irrational thought that he should run, but she was already too close.

“Excuse me, sir,” the officer said, her voice drawing the attention of passersby. “Are you here to see Mr. Baird?”

Jude nodded, his mind going a million different directions at once. The woman strode forward, clipbook in hand. She held out her badge.

“I’m Detective Schaeffer,” she said brusquely. “Are you a friend of Elliot Baird’s?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m Jude. Jude Alden.”

She glanced down at her clipboard.

“Ah yes,” she said, making a notch next to his name. “His mother told me I should contact you.”

“Is everything okay?”

“No, actually, it isn’t,” she said dryly.

Jude blanched. “What?”

“Mr. Baird is refusing to give any kind of statement about the attack.”

Jude released his breath, shoulders sagging. “His tongue was sliced,” he explained. “He can’t really talk yet. Or not so he can be understood, anyhow.”

The detective shook her head.

“His mother tells me he’s been leaving simple messages with his tablet the last few days,” she said. “Elliot can point to words even though he can’t say them. He could make a statement if he wanted.”

“Oh,” Jude said. “I didn’t realize.”

Elliot hadn’t done anything like that around him. For the most part, he just stared at the window, dozing. Now Jude wondered how much of that was because he was the one visiting.

“We’d like to get some information about the person who attacked him,” Schaeffer continued. “The fresher it is in his mind, the better.”

“But does he even remember the attack?” Jude asked.

“The nurses seem to think so,” she replied. “I’m sure you know he’s been having nightmares at night…” Jude frowned. He hadn’t known that either. “…and the psychologist thinks that this is because he does remember the attack. I’ve been trying to get a statement, but so far he’s refused.” For the first time since the conversation began, she smiled. “I was hoping you could talk to him. Convince your friend to do the right thing.”

Jude felt himself deflate. He didn’t tell Elliot to do the right thing. It worked the other way around. There was no way to explain that to her though.

“I’ll try,” he said weakly.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out a card. “Give me a call if you make any progress with him, Jude,” she said. “This is important. Whoever did this to Mr. Baird is still out there on the streets.” She paused, staring at him for a long moment. “And the longer that person isn’t caught, the more likely it is that he’ll do this to someone else.”

Jude nodded mutely, watching as the detective walked away. Jude lifted a shaking hand to the door, knocking twice, then pushing the door open. Elliot was in bed, watching television on his iPad. His face was mottled purple and orange, one section of his cheek fading to greenish yellow like rotten fruit. His hands were propped in front of him on a pillow, fingers swaddled in gauze.

“Hey Elliot,” Jude said, forcing a bright grin. “You’re looking good today!”

Elliot didn’t answer. He dropped the tablet and turned to stare out at the snowy landscape beyond the glass. Jude followed his gaze.

On the other side of the window, a car with tinted windows was pulling away from the curb.