Donuts and Handcuffs

by Haley Travis

  “Hey,” he said, holding my left arm out, checking the bandage. “You weren’t moving this too much, right? I was trying to be careful.”

  His warm eyes were filled with such genuine concern that I had to swallow hard. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? You look upset. Does it hurt?”

  I tried to laugh while blinking back tears. “I’m just not used to anyone being this sweet with me.” I immediately regretted saying that, as he looked a bit disturbed for a split second. I drummed my fingers on his chest lightly, trying to make him laugh. “It’s an alien concept. My brain still can’t do brain things. I think we might need a glass of wine to recover.”

  “Good idea,” he grinned. He bundled me back up in my robe, and threw his shorts back on, blissfully staying shirtless.

  I cracked a bottle of red and found some glasses as we curled up in the living room.

  Once we’d both had several large sips of wine, and I was snuggled against his shoulder in my new favorite spot on the couch, I realized I hadn’t been this relaxed in ages. Possibly ever. My limbs actually felt longer, and my breathing felt smooth.

  I had been so anxious about my new business, and making it on my own, that I hadn’t stopped very often to take a breath and just enjoy the little moments. This hunk of a man was definitely a good influence on me.

  Daniel’s lips brushed against my hair in a gentle kiss, then he chuckled.

  “What is it?” I asked, looking up with a grin.

  “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, and I don’t want to embarrass you, but it’s rather funny.”

  I tried my best to glare at him. “Then tell me now.”

  “When I was holding you still in the hospital, you brushed your cheek against my chest and kissed me right here,” he said, lifting my finger and drawing a circle over his heart. “It was absolutely adorable, and I kissed the top of your head as you fell back asleep. You snuggled against me as if you were freezing, and needed the warmth. But it felt like a lot more.”

  I could feel my cheeks flaming. “We all crave human contact. And yeah, it’s been a while.”

  “For the record, Bailey, I’ll always be right here for you. Whatever you need. Cuddles, more, less, whatever you want. And I’ll always be a phone call or a text away if you want to talk.”

  His fingertips were drawing circles around my shoulder and arm, and in my floating tranquil state, his low voice was lulling me to sleep. “I want you to feel safe now, Bailey. I will do absolutely everything in my power to make you feel that way. Do you understand?”

  My eyelids were getting heavy, but I nodded. “Thank you, Daniel. They always said that I needed to stick with my own kind. But they were wrong,” I mumbled. “I needed to find somebody who was actually kind. I think you’re the one that I’ve been needing.”

  My head rolled into his shoulder as he picked me up, taking me back to bed, and spooning me under the blankets. With his massive chest pressed against my spine, I felt both tiny and powerful. As if this beautiful man truly had my back in every possible way.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I’d always been an incredibly light sleeper. There had always been loud, weird noises in the middle of the night when I was young. Strange voices in the kitchen. The thump of gear being unloaded outside my window. Unusual cars and vans at all hours. Heavy footsteps banging down to the triple-locked rooms in the basement.

  It didn’t help that my family moved every year or two, so I was always becoming accustomed to a new place. A new neighborhood. We’d be near the train tracks one year, and beside a loud arena the next. Nothing ever felt like home.

  Sometimes I wondered whether I should look into what it does to a child who has grown up with no home base. No friends, no foundation. Yet I knew I could easily fall down a rabbit hole of self-analysis that would likely take my focus away from my work. That was the only thing that I had the mental capacity to lock my attention on. Just work. Which is why I hadn’t relaxed in so very long.

  Slowly gaining consciousness in Daniel’s arms was the first time I think I slept for seven solid hours, waking up perfectly calm.

  I felt so grounded. Peaceful. It was strange thinking that some people felt like this their entire lives.

  Glancing at the clock, I reluctantly wiggled out of his grasp, tying my hair into a messy topknot and adding a few colorful plastic clips before taking a two-minute shower.

  It was customary for bakers to wear white, but nothing ever stayed stain-free in the kitchen. I wore comfortable dark pants, with an array of pastel-colored T-shirts or button-down shirts that were baggy enough that I could roll up the sleeves. I bought them by the dozen at a secondhand store. I had to think of my work clothes as temporary, since they rarely lasted longer than a month before being destroyed.

  Everything had been temporary throughout my entire life, but now I finally had a sense of belonging. A home, a business. I was making friends and getting to know the neighbors.

  And now I had Daniel. I didn’t know what sort of relationship he was expecting, but he seemed to be okay leaving things unstructured for the moment. I needed to be able to take my time before I started putting labels on things.

  My mind wanted to zoom into the future and imagine a world where Daniel and I were together forever. But that was not a productive path for my uncaffeinated mind to wander along. I couldn’t imagine what might happen somewhere down the road if my fake identification didn’t hold up. I couldn’t imagine what might happen if he ever had a reason to run a background check on me.

  “Hey,” he murmured from my bed as I pulled my socks on. “Why are you leaving this incredibly comfortable place?”

  “Somebody has to make donuts so that the local police station doesn’t freak out,” I laughed.

  Crawling across the bed, I gave him a huge kiss. “What time do you work?”

  He glanced over at the clock, then made a face. “I have to work early today. Crap. Is it okay if I grab a quick shower here?”

  “Of course.”

  By the time he came into the kitchen fully dressed, I had a scrambled egg bagel ready for him, wrapped in wax paper. “This is always my breakfast on the go.”

  His sweet grin made my heart race. “Thank you, Bailey. You’re amazing.”

  I put his breakfast and the blue drive with the video footage in a shopping bag for him. It was weird leaving my apartment together knowing that there was a chance that his coworkers might drive by and see. I didn’t know if he wanted us to be public in any way. I always assumed that everything should be hidden.

  His arms circled my waist as he nuzzled my throat. “I hope I can see you soon.”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “But now that my arm is a little better, I’m going to have to catch up on a lot of work for a few days.”

  He nodded. “Let me know if I can help.”

  “Thanks,” I said, as he bent down to give me a quick kiss before we went our separate ways.

  With such a wonderful start to the day, I kept feeling like something might explode, in order to give it balance. I knew that was something that had been long ingrained in me. When things were going well, you had to expect the opposite to happen. But the day flew by in a whirlwind of everything going my way.

  For the next three days, I’d find myself grinning down at the mixing bowl, or the change in my hand, or the pink checkered cloth as I wiped down the counter. Daniel. I couldn’t believe that the other night had really happened, and that it was so… I sighed down at the glass surface. Utterly perfect.

  The way he’d held me, treasured me, made me feel so high just from his touch – it was like hearing the sound of a bell for the first time. His vibrations were still ringing through me and everything seemed brighter.

  I’d never dated. I’d never known what was normal. My ex showed up at my parents’ house a week after we met, took me for coffee, then I was moving into his apartment to put some space between me and my unusual family. It was too fast, too off kilter, and it wa
s a great relief when Jenson was arrested, even though I was humiliated. Since I’d barely been in public, nobody in town really knew me, so it had been easy for me to simply disappear.

  The customer flow in the shop stayed steady so that I was able to pop back and work in the kitchen, carefully catching up on my baking. Everyone was still very understanding that I hadn’t resumed my regular schedule yet, and were just happy to have coffee, muffins, and cookies.

  I still didn’t quite feel safe enough to use the fryer one-handed, so I made cookies shaped like donuts, which made everyone laugh.

  A police officer I didn’t know came in, ordering a dozen of the donut cookies, and I didn’t even flinch. Giving him a wide smile, I added a carrot muffin sweetened with apple for their office manager. He seemed very appreciative, and held the door for the swarm of pre-teens who cruised in on their lunch hour.

  Devin even arrived at the perfect time to help me scrub some of the larger pans. I had to admit that having an extra pair of hands was incredibly, well, handy. Maybe I could keep him on as a floating part-time employee, working just a few short shifts a week. I was at a place where I could actually afford such a luxury.

  My relationship with money had always been strange. I never wanted to spend any of my family’s money, but I was rarely in a position where I could make my own. People didn’t hire employees if they didn’t have proper ID and a social insurance number. But I managed to get a few babysitting jobs for friends of my parents.

  Later, when I got to high school, many students would have paid any amount of money to have someone write their assignments for them. I refused to help them cheat, but I did sell copies of my perfect notes. Most of them thought this was incredibly helpful since they didn’t bother paying attention in classes.

  How strange that I could have made a small fortune had I just recalibrated my moral compass slightly. Yet I couldn’t do it. I needed to feel like I knew the difference between right and wrong. I needed to have a little shield around me that reinforced my belief that I was not a bad person.

  Being surrounded by nice, normal people in this neighborhood was helping me immensely. I was no longer afraid to let people know where I lived. Everyone knew where I would be every single morning. There was a beautiful peace in the new structure of my life. Knowing that I would be parked here for many years gave me a foundation that felt incredibly sturdy.

  It was still new, but it was becoming solid.

  At the end of the day, once I gave Devin some cash and a smile, I ran a duster around the sculptures, the lamps, and the weird knick knacks I had collected.

  I realized that I was feeling a huge wave of something unusual for me. Pride. My shop and my baking had put smiles on people’s faces all day long. I had known that for the past month, but it was interesting that I was seeing things a little differently now that I had someone who I could possibly share such thoughts with.

  Daniel seemed incredibly proud of me. He seemed impressed by every little thing I did and texted me a few times a day reminding me not to work too hard. I was becoming comfortable with him, even when he left me breathless. There were a slew of other feelings swirling around and between the two of us, but I sort of liked that one best. I made him smile. It felt like I was a bright spot in his day.

  It was so simple, so perfect.

  After all of the complications of taking off and starting this new life, coming back to the very basics was refreshing.

  Even after dealing with the tiny matter of getting my illegally procured evidence to the police in the middle of last night, now that I had that out of the way, it would be clear sailing.

  Finishing my cleaning, I set the security systems, double-checked the massive locks on the back door, then locked the three industrial locks down the front door.

  The metal bars in the large front window has been painted candy colors like teal and pink, so they didn’t draw attention. A normal person would never notice that I had a lot more security than the average bakeshop. But anyone who was looking to break in would see my defenses and hopefully wander elsewhere.

  By this point, I was sure that I didn’t need it. But it was an ingrained habit, and I didn’t think I would ever let it go.

  Walking around the front of the shop, I stood back to double-check everything, as I always did. If the paint was peeling, or the display inside needed to be adjusted, I wanted to know every detail.

  But everything looked perfect. Sweet and happy and joyous. My little island of cute escape where everyone in the neighborhood could disappear for a few minutes.

  Smiling to myself, I walked around the building to the doorway that led up to my apartment, keys in my hand. The second I lifted my arm, I froze. There was a prickle on the side of my right shoulder that told me someone was standing around the corner of the building.

  I had almost hoped that these instincts would fade over time. But it was clear as day. Turning to my right, I said, “Show yourself.”

  A tall, wiry older man dressed all in black came around the corner. He was wearing a scarf that blocked part of his profile, with a gray baseball hat pulled low to shadow his eyes. He looked casual, but no camera could identify him from a distance.

  “Impressive security,” he grinned. “Somebody taught you well, little girl.”

  “Why are you here?” I said flatly. He was on my turf now, and I didn’t want him to forget that.

  “Inside,” he said automatically. I knew he never wanted to discuss anything in public, ever.

  I didn’t want to start a fight with him right off the top. Rolling my eyes, I unlocked the door and led him up the stairs. The feeling of having my old life clash so suddenly with my new world filled me with dread. But there was really nothing I could do about it now.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I’d always been one of the strange people who enjoyed slightly busy days. I liked to feel productive. I enjoyed seeing a stack of papers at the end of my shift that represented the things I had accomplished.

  Sure, some of my colleagues thought I was a bit of a freak, and poked fun, but I didn’t care. Everyone knew that I was a goody-two-shoes, if people even use that expression anymore.

  At the end of the day, I had gotten a lot more accomplished than usual, even for me. Perhaps I was just fired up from an amazing evening, or refreshed from one of the most perfect nights of sleep I’d ever experienced.

  Detective Clarkson came by and shot me a huge grin. “What’s up?” I asked.

  “We have a hell of a lead in the arson cases,” he said.

  “The second one only took place just a few days ago,” I said, scratching my head. “But you have a lead already?”

  He shrugged, flashing a crooked grin. “The lead came to us, actually. Some anonymous helpful citizen dropped evidence about the Robotham family outside the station last night. They’re the owners of the two buildings that recently had fires, and it looks like they want to gut them to put up condos. They also happen to own more buildings in the area.”

  “What sort of evidence?” I couldn’t quite believe it.

  “Emails of the arsons being plotted. Security footage of the suspects outside the Armstrong building around the time the fire was likely set. Not quite enough to convict, but plenty to get us all of the warrants we could want.”

  “And you say someone just dropped it off?”

  “Apparently. The envelope just appeared on our doorstep. Literally. Our cameras didn’t pick anything up except a blur, then the envelope sitting there. It looks like it was thrown from a distance just outside of the camera’s coverage.” He shrugged. “Somebody must have known the exact range of that lens. But who cares, we’re going to have the bad guys behind bars in days before something else burns down.”

  “Yeah, that’s a relief,” I agreed.

  When something was too good to be true, I couldn’t help but get suspicious. Who would have access to private emails and video footage? Either it was someone on the inside, or someone who had access to the off
ices.

  Who would do such a thing? Risk getting caught, just to make sure that someone else was arrested? It if was an inside job, maybe someone got pulled along for the ride, but drew the line when people’s lives were at risk. It’s one thing to burn down an abandoned building, but something else entirely to set fire to a structure with families inside.

  It was still all sorts of strange. Things like this just didn’t happen, especially in our rather sedate corner of the city.

  The strangeness of it all rolled around and around in my mind, until I finally went to get another cup of coffee. As I passed Detective Clarkson’s desk, I paused. “Can I see that evidence that you found?” I asked.

  He pointed to a huge manila envelope sitting on the corner of his desk. Looking again though, it wasn’t manila. It was flecked with green recycled fibers. Almost like bits of leaves or tree bark.

  Like the fancy envelopes that had been on Bailey’s desk where she left the drive with the video footage for me.

  Although I was a beat cop, not a detective, everyone on the force tended to have an inquisitive nature. Instantly I wondered how common those envelopes were. After I grabbed a coffee, I went back to my desk to search our usual office supply stores. There was absolutely nothing like it.

  I searched every stationery supply place I could think of that delivered in our neighborhood. There was nothing even remotely similar that was made in a large size like that. Falling down a swirling vortex of open browser windows, I finally found a place that had a photo of a similar sort of paper, available in envelopes of all sizes, even nine by twelve like these ones. They were created using trees from their own forest, which is why they left some green leaf bits in. Eco-friendly stationery.

  They didn’t sell online. That particular collection was from two years ago, and was only available in their store, which was on the other side of the country.