by Tessa Bailey
That should excite her a lot more than it did.
When she closed her eyes, though, she could only hear the hum of the engine in her ears. She could only see the blue water and multicolored land below. The wheel in her hands.
Andrew was there, too. Front and center.
Only heartbreak lay in that direction, though. Heartbreak with nothing to show for it. The organ in her chest would surely sputter and beat dully for the rest of her life, but she could still build something. Move forward in the opposite direction. She could still construct a life to be proud of. With someone else. The alternative was to stand in the middle of the rope bridge, without crossing to either side. And hadn’t she already made this decision? To leave dreams of Andrew behind? Their night together couldn’t change anything. It certainly hadn’t for him.
She made a choked sound. “I, um…”
“Would it be all right if I spoke to Jiya alone?” Ajay pushed back from the table and stood. “I think we can agree this is a lot at once.” He looked at her. “Jiya?”
“Yes.” She blotted her mouth with the napkin and stood. “Talking sounds good.”
It didn’t escape her notice that all the parents looked thrilled at Ajay and Jiya’s wish to be alone. She guided him to the garage and knew immediately it was a mistake. Andrew was everywhere. They’d spent a thousand summer days inside this garage, drinking sodas and building castles in the sky. He’d killed spiders in her honor, bandaged cuts on her knee and endured her emo phase when she only wanted to listen to Evanescence.
She’d fallen in love with him inside these walls.
“Hey, listen. I’m so sorry about that,” Ajay started. “I didn’t know it was coming.”
“No, I could tell. It’s fine.”
Seeming relieved, he pushed a hand through his black hair and Jiya took another moment to look, really look at him. He was handsome, in his late-twenties, like her. He wore a blue button-down shirt and slacks, but a tattoo peeked out at the small of his wrist and he wore a silver thumb ring, telling Jiya there was more to Ajay than met the eye. She got a good feeling from him. Like they could be friends. Like maybe they could laugh together.
Love wasn’t even within the realm of possibility for her at that moment. Maybe it never would be again. But she had to move on with her life sometime.
“Do you even want to run a restaurant, Ajay?”
He blew out a breath, taking some time to think about his answer. “Honestly, yeah, I wouldn’t mind giving it a shot. There’s definitely a time limit on how long a man can work as a stockbroker without selling his soul.” He pinched his fingers together. “And I’m just about there.”
They laughed.
Ajay sobered. “You’re…beautiful, Jiya. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”
There was no flop in her belly. No tingle in her chest. Nothing. But she smiled anyway. “Thank you.” She rolled her lips together. “This is way premature, but…let’s say your wife wanted to fly. In her spare time as a hobby.”
“Fly what? An airplane?”
“Yes.”
He stroked a hand down his jaw. “Um, well I guess I wouldn’t have a problem with it once in a while, but once we had children, I would probably ask her nicely to stop.” He winced. “It’s pretty dangerous.”
“Yeah.” Her smile remained spackled to her face, but her brief surge of optimism waned. She’d already downgraded her desire to fly professionally to a mere hobby, but even that had sounded outlandish. Not just to Ajay, but to her own ears. Did she really think she’d have time to fly a plane and run a restaurant on the side? Have a family?
Get your head out of the clouds, Jiya.
Look where having her head in the clouds had gotten her. In love with a man who didn’t love her in return. She wasn’t going to give up this opportunity to make something out of her life just to fly a plane. That was ridiculous. As ridiculous as falling for her unavailable best friend.
Jiya ignored the painful tug in her middle and squared her shoulders. “I think we should see each other again.”
Ajay’s face brightened. “How does tomorrow sound?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ANDREW KNEW SOMETHING was up the moment he saw Jamie’s face.
It was late afternoon on Wednesday and they’d just wrapped their lifeguard shifts. Andrew stood behind the mostly quiet bar, cutting limes and lemons for garnish. Rory was in the back office working on payroll. Andrew was only going to help his brothers get through the rush, then he needed to get moving. His life of crime started tonight.
A hysterical laugh worked its way up his throat but came out sounding more like a gasp. He’d been like this since Friday morning. Exhausted, kind of delirious. No longer giving a fuck. If he thought too much about who he was agreeing to become, he felt sick, so he focused on what mattered. Keeping Jiya safe. Keeping his family away from the situation with Handler.
Keep moving.
Keeping working.
Don’t think too hard.
Don’t think too hard about her.
The knife sliced into his finger and he watched the blood well in a kind of detached way, enjoying the pain a little too much. It didn’t dull the agony in his chest, but it shifted the focus for a minute and he appreciated that.
Jamie grabbed Andrew’s hand and wrapped a napkin around the cut. “You’re bleeding all over the bar.”
“What was your face about when you came in here?” Andrew asked numbly.
His brother’s hands paused in the act of cleaning up the mess. “What?”
“Your face.” Jesus, he sounded like his father. “Just tell me what it is.”
Jamie was still. So still. “I ran into Jiya on the boardwalk.” He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, A. I can’t believe it happened so fast, but…she’s engaged.”
A knife rammed into his stomach and carved out his insides, one by one. Jamie’s mouth was still moving, but nothing could pierce the howling in Andrew’s ears. He was slapped in the face by a million unwanted images. Jiya dressed for her wedding. Being carried over the threshold of a house. Holding her newborn baby in the delivery room, tired and elated. He wasn’t in any of the visions. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. Kill me now. If he picked up one of the liquor bottles, smashed it and used the edges on himself, how long would it take to be over? “Why would you be sorry?” he gasped. “That’s great news.”
“Andrew, give me a fucking break.” Jamie put his arms around Andrew and squeezed, but Andrew couldn’t feel a thing. “You look like you’re dying. You feel like it, too. When is the last time you ate something?”
Who cares? He wanted to shout. If his vocal cords worked.
“What the hell is going on?” Rory asked, coming out of the back room, his step faltering behind the bar. “What is it?”
Jamie stepped back from Andrew. “Jiya is engaged.”
“Wha—to who?”
“We haven’t met him,” Jamie supplied quietly. “The son of a family friend.”
“Don’t tell me his name,” Andrew said quickly. He did not want to think of her name alongside a specific moniker. Ever. Nor could he be positive he wouldn’t track the guy down and kick his ass.
Rory came forward hesitantly, seeming to choose the right words. “Hey, man. Don’t worry. It’s got to be like a rebound thing.”
Andrew looked at Rory like he was insane. “Rebound from what?”
Jamie and Rory traded a glance. “You weren’t exactly quiet last Thursday night,” Jamie supplied. “Like, we’re surprised no one called the cops. Or that the foundation of the house didn’t crack in half.”
“Now doesn’t seem like the time for a fist bump,” Rory said. “Just know I’m thinking it.”
“We kind of thought the two of you had finally figured everything out.” Jamie shook his head. “Guess we were way off.”
“Something like that,” Andrew muttered, weaving through his brothers toward the back room. He had no reason to go in there, but he collected two handfuls of
white tape for the credit card machines and turned—but they blocked his way out of the office.
Rory kicked the door shut. “Just tell her about Dad, Andrew. I almost lost Olive because I was ashamed of my own violent past. Don’t make the same mistake.”
“Your victim survived, Rory. It’s a huge difference.”
They hadn’t actually made reference to Andrew’s crime out loud since the night it happened. Since he’d called his brothers home to find their hysterical mother and his clothes covered in blood.
“Don’t you think the circumstances would mean something to her?” Jamie asked. “I don’t think you’re giving her enough credit.”
“I’m giving her more than enough credit, Jamie. Because she would probably stick by me. She’s loyal to a fault and she’d have no choice. I’d be giving her no choice. Walking away from me would make her a disloyal friend and she doesn’t know how to be one. She’s Jiya. She’s everything good about everything. Don’t ever accuse me of not giving her enough credit.”
“Fine.” Jamie held up his hands. “So lose her forever? That’s the other option?”
“Sounds like it’s already done. Let me know where they register.”
Rory snorted. “Now you’re just being a stubborn prick.”
Yeah, he was. He heard it. But the resentment felt kind of magical at that very moment. It sewed up his ravaged guts with steel thread and hardened him, so he wouldn’t have to withstand the despair. Instead of an open wound, he could be a scab. An ugly one.
He was saved from any further conversation from his brothers when someone called for service out in the bar. Happy hour started and they didn’t get a moment’s peace for hours, filling drinks, sending orders to the kitchen, cleaning glasses as they went. Andrew could feel his brothers watching him, but he ignored it and kept checking the clock. He couldn’t be late tonight or Handler would twist the knife somehow. Hurt someone he loved—and Andrew’s one job was now to make sure that never happened.
As soon as the rush ebbed, Andrew snatched up his keys and got out of there. Rory and Jamie called after him, but he staved them off with a promise to talk more later.
He had a job to do.
*
THE ADDRESS BROUGHT Andrew to an underground parking garage in New Jersey.
Knowing he’d be driving back to Long Island in an unknown vehicle, he’d taken three trains to reach the location and a bus for the final stretch. When he saw the garage was abandoned in a neighborhood that could best be described as burned out, his instinct told him to turn back, but what choice did he have but to head inside? It was the middle of the night and apart from a couple of dying halogen lights, there was nothing to guide him forward, except his cell phone flashlight.
“Beautiful.”
With a sigh, Andrew trudged down the ramp, listening for voices. Anything that might clue him in that he wasn’t alone. He wouldn’t put it past Handler to send him all the way to New Jersey at one in the morning to test his dedication.
His footfalls echoed off the concrete walls and vermin scurried in the dark corners, but he kept going, only pausing when a lighter flickered up ahead—
Four sets of vehicle headlights came on at once, blinding him.
Andrew lifted a hand to block the bright onslaught, but the sudden flash had the effect of momentarily making everything so clear. Where he’d started and ended up. How differently things might have been. Through his exhaustion and grief over Jiya’s engagement, the fact that life could change directions so fast was stark and sickening.
That night, when he’d come home late and found his father halfway to killing their mother, he’d just—finally—gotten over his fear of losing Jiya as his best friend and decided to ask her out. They’d gone to see some action movie together, followed by a walk down the boardwalk and he’d wanted so badly to reach over and hold her hand. It had seemed like maybe she’d wanted it, too. She’d done that whole blushing, lip biting thing, hiding behind the fall of her hair and peeking over at him every couple seconds. God. God, she’d glowed that night and he’d thought, the hell with it. I’m going to ask her to be my girl.
He’d only been in love with her since the moment he saw her.
Andrew had pulled her to a stop on the boardwalk and blown out a half-laughing breath. She’d done the same, like she knew what was coming.
He’d cupped her cheek. She’d closed her eyes.
That’s when the thunder cracked and the sky opened up.
For years, he’d worried that dating Jiya might ruin the best relationship in his life. Might change the friendship he treasured above all else. That had been the biggest worry in his life.
And then an hour later, he’d hit his father over the head with a brass horse and he’d ached to go back to that simple worry. When his greatest fear was kissing Jiya and her telling him she thought of him like a brother.
After last week, at least that fear was put solidly to rest.
Now, he ground the heel of his hand into his eye socket and laughed without humor. “You mind hitting the dimmer switch?” Andrew called.
“Oh, this one’s got jokes,” said one of the voices, cutting through the beams of light. “How about telling us who the hell you are first.”
“I’m Andrew. Handler sent me. Are you Marlin?”
The sound of scuffling feet on the concrete was followed by the three sets of high beams cutting off. Without the excessive lights to blind him, Andrew lowered his hand—and found a young guy standing a few feet away…pointing a gun at Andrew’s head.
He stared back impassively.
“Look, I’m unarmed. You want to search me or something?” He held up his hands. “I’m just here to pick up the packages. Feel free to call Handler.”
A figure came into focus in the distance—a bearded man slightly older than Andrew in a Patriots sweatshirt. Carrying a bat. “Well, I, uh…” the guy laughed tightly and smacked the bat off the closest front bumper. “I guess Handler didn’t mention he owes us money. That must be why he didn’t show up himself, like we planned.”
Why hadn’t Andrew seen something like this coming?
Maybe he wasn’t cut out for the criminal life after all.
Through the pinch of shock only came more numbness, though. What’s the worst that happened here? It couldn’t be worse than what was happening back on Long Island.
“You going to hit me with that fucking bat?” He rapped a fist against his chest and could actually feel the hollowness underneath. “Come on, man. Do it. Please.”
They men ahead of him exchanged glances. “Look. We’re going to let you leave with the products. We already got paid by the receiver. But Handler owes us a finder’s fee and I hope you don’t mind, we need to send a little message.”
“Just leave him able enough to drive,” someone cracked.
Laughter bounced off the concrete walls.
Andrew stepped closer to the man holding the gun and pressed his forehead to the muzzle. For a moment, he wondered if it would be so bad if the trigger got pulled. He wouldn’t have to think of Jiya with another man. He wouldn’t have to live knowing she was out there and he’d never touch her again. But his brothers would never know what happened to him and he wouldn’t leave them with that uncertainty. He loved them too much. So he used the other man’s shock to rip the weapon out of his hands and point it back in his direction. “Now you look. I don’t want a problem. Where is the truck I’m supposed to drive back to Long Island? Point it out and I’ll go.”
The guy who’d pulled the gun on him laughed and looked back over his shoulder at his friends. “The gun ain’t loaded.”
The sound of a bat being dragged on the ground scraped Andrew’s eardrums as the men cut out the final set of headlights and converged on him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JIYA PROBABLY SHOULD have skipped her flying lesson.
Her head was definitely not in the game. Life had become a swift current and the farther it carried her down the river
, the harder it was becoming to see the reassuring shoreline. Plus, there was a churning sensation in her stomach warning her she was headed towards the falls.
She stretched her fingers on the steering wheel, letting the small diamond on her ring finger catch the light, only long enough to make her throat constrict, then she pushed out of her car and locked it, patting the roof in a silent thank you for not breaking down again. A blue-nosed Cessna buzzed past overhead and she leaned a hip against her car to watch it vanish and reappear in the low cloud cover. Another girl learning to fly, perhaps?
So much had changed since the last time she stood in this parking lot. The hand Andrew had held as he led her toward the office was now decorated in another man’s ring. And it was ludicrous how unfaithful that made her feel. She’d all but thrown herself at Andrew’s feet and begged him to keep her. She had nothing to feel guilty about.
Those reassurances rang hollow as Jiya made her way across the airfield toward hangar one. Her shadow stretched long and solitary across the pavement, making it difficult to stem the tide of loneliness. Making it impossible. She almost felt silly being there at all. Indulgent. Why had she even bothered showing up?
Flying an airplane. The dreams of a child.
She was a woman now. She would be married soon and have responsibilities. No more playing house with the boy next door. No more gazing up at the planes over the Atlantic and thinking someday. Someday when I grow up.
While she’d wasted time on dreams and Andrew and dreams of Andrew, she’d grown up without realizing it and her commitments hadn’t followed suit. She might have been a reliable and loving daughter, but what had she actually accomplished?
Those were the thoughts that had been circling her head when Ajay slid the ring box across the table on their first alone date. He’d blushed and rambled and she’d thought, how bad could this be? At least he wanted the kind of future Jiya envisioned, even if she’d always pictured it unfolding with Andrew. At least Ajay seemed to value what she could add to his life. He came part and parcel with a new endeavor. A new restaurant to mold into something of her own making. And while that didn’t necessarily excite her, not like flying, the thought of making her parents proud…the thought of making up for her inexcusable time wasting…propelled her into accepting the proposal.
