Redemptive (Combative, #2)

“I never left, Bai.”

I leaned back against the door, not ready to face him, but maybe ready to talk. Not that I’d somehow miraculously gained any more clarity with my feelings. All I did was cry and occasionally think about him with other girls, which only made me cry harder. “So you heard…”

“Everything.” I felt the door move slightly, pushing me forward, as if he was on the other side, sitting exactly the way I was.

I looked down at my hands, knuckles sticking out behind my pale, pasty-white skin. There wasn’t a single thing attractive about them, or about me, and that thought released another silent sob from my throat.

On the other side, Nate sighed loudly, the door shifting against my back matching his movements. “Look under the door,” he said quietly.

I looked down, but there was nothing there. “What am I looking…” My words died in the air when I saw a single fall leaf slide under the door. I reached down and picked it up, careful not to break it. “Nate…” I whispered, unable to find my voice.

“I want to tell you something, and I’d really like it if you’d just listen. Can you do that, Bailey? For me?”

I placed the leaf on my palm, cold and moist against my skin. “Okay.”

He was silent a beat, most likely gathering his thoughts. Then he cleared his throat. “Tiny and I go to this deli for work, and every Thursday for the past couple years, this group of kids—three guys and three girls—show up at the same time, used to sit at the same table, and they’d just talk, about anything and everything and for some reason it fascinated me so much that I’d find myself going there every Thursday, just like them, and I’d sit and I’d watch them. And I’d feel this kind of emptiness in my gut, this longing or jealousy or something… because I didn’t have that, Bailey, and because of who I am and what I do, I knew I could never have that. But I chose this life, and I have to live with the consequences. I guess they must have graduated and gone off to college or something because now there’s only four of them. But those four still show up on time, every Thursday, and as fucked up as it sounds, I still go, and I still watch them. Only now, the emptiness I feel isn’t for me. It’s for you.

“I know you’re not just upset at me because I didn’t tell you it was my birthday. I’m not naive, and I’m not stupid enough to believe that, or ignore the real reasons. Because more often than not, I watch those friends, and I think about you, and I wonder what your life would be like had I not fucked it up—”

“Nate—”

“I could’ve taken you to a bus station that night, cashed you up and sent you on your way. You could’ve had a new start, found a job, found a life, found friends you could meet with once a week. But I didn’t do that. I brought you here. I kept you here. And you might think that I deserve more. That I’m somehow trapped with you, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Who I am outside this room is the one who’s trapped, Bailey, but with you… you allow me to be me, you love me for me. I know you think I saved your life, but the truth is, you saved mine.”

I let his words sink in, the leaf now a crumbled mess in my hands.

“You’re the only freedom I’ve ever known, Bailey.”





32




Nate


Since the high-society preppy kid overdosed and the shit went down with Louis Franco, Tiny had been staying at the house. He’d been living in a one-bedroom apartment, and when I found out his lease was up, I told him he should just move in. He had the entire top floor, and Bailey and I had the basement. It was kind of a win/win because with him here, I didn’t have to worry so much about anything happening in and around the house, and I could focus on taking care of Bailey.

Unless it was urgent, he left us alone. He knew how important it was for me to be with Bailey, and he respected that. The only thing that’d really changed was that we’d finally signed up at a gym and had started taking MMA classes (his idea) together. He’d said that if he was going to the gym, he might as well learn how to fight with his hands instead of his gun.

We’d only been to three classes, and honestly, I hadn’t really learned shit, but Tiny seemed to enjoy it, so I pretended to as well, because fuck, I owed him that much.

“Tell me again why the fuck I’m standing in a stranger’s front yard kicking around leaves?”

I picked up a leaf, inspected it, then dropped it. “Remember that story she told you? About her mom and the leaves.”

He nodded, distracted by his task.