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.