by Claire Raye
As I hang up, I realize I’m going to have to explain to her why there’s a random man milling about my house. I scrub my hands over my face, as I silently curse my dad and Anthony, and even Ryan for making my life a fucking mess.
I don’t want to involve Sarah in any of this. It’s bad enough that Ryan’s involved both professionally and personally, but lying to her seems wrong, very wrong. She’s the baby’s aunt and will be in my life regardless. Keeping secrets from her is not the best way to start a relationship. I know this well.
I spend some more time sitting at my kitchen table contemplating what to do, before hesitantly calling out to Chris.
“Hey Chris?”
“Yeah, Erin,” he answers back as if he’s not a stranger in my home but rather a friend and it weirds me out even more. How often does he hang out in strangers’ homes? Is this normal for him?
“Could I convince you to leave?”
“No,” is all he says and I know there’s no point in even trying.
Instead of arguing with Chris, I text Ryan hoping I can get him to budge on this ridiculous house arrest/bodyguard thing he’s got going on here.
Me: Your sister is coming to visit today. She’s going to stay for a few days. So if you could call off the bodyguard that would be great. Thanks.
I’m sure he’ll be able to sense my annoyance and my sarcasm even through a text message.
It takes no more than thirty seconds for him to answer me. This whole accident, baby, mob boss ex-boyfriend thing has made him very responsive.
Ryan: Sarah???
Me: Yes
Ryan: Ok
Me: Ok, what?? You’ll tell this creeper to take a hike then??
Ryan: Nope. I answered ok to let you know it was ok for Sarah to visit.
Me: I hope you’re not acting like I need your permission to have someone visit MY home.
Ryan: Me?? Never.
Me: Ryan, seriously…how am I going to explain this to your sister!!???
Ryan: Make something up.
His response does nothing to ease my anxiety, so instead of texting him back, I call him and he picks up on the first ring.
“Hey, baby.”
“Ryan, I’m not going to lie to your sister,” I say without greeting him.
“I’ve got about five minutes, babe. I’m not trying to rush you, but I can’t really sit on the phone arguing with you. I mean that in the most loving way.” I can tell he’s smiling. I can hear it in his voice and something about it is soothing.
“Ok, but do you really want me to tell your sister the truth? It’s pretty fucking complicated.”
“Then just tell her we think the car accident had something to do with a case I’m working on. That wouldn’t be a lie…just an omission.”
I guess that’s as good as it’s going to get, and he’s right, it’s not exactly a lie, but it does shield her from too much information.
We say our good-byes and I hang up, but not before telling Ryan I love him. While it still feels weird, it also feels completely right.
About five hours later Sarah is pulling into my driveway and I have to quell the urge to tell Chris to disappear. Even when I walk into the room and answer the front door, he still acts like I’m not there. His ability to ignore me is unnerving, and my ability to not ignore him bothers me even more.
Sarah dead stops in the doorway and looks at Chris and then at me, her overnight bag slung over her shoulder. She raises her eyebrows and looks back at Chris again.
This is the first time I’ve seen him react, as he looks Sarah up and down, and I don’t blame him. She’s absolutely stunning even as she stands there in a pair of leggings, snow boots and a parka.
Her blonde hair is braided and sticking out of her knitted cap, and her blue eyes seem to look even bluer with the backdrop of the snow outside.
“You have a guest?” she asks, again eyeing Chris as he stares back at her.
“No,” I answer tersely, flipping my hand in Chris’ direction. “Ignore him. I’ll explain later.”
I walk Sarah to my guest bedroom and help her get her things put away before offering her a drink and something to eat.
As we’re sitting at the kitchen table she flicks a thumb in the direction of my living room asking, “What’s the deal with the guy in your living room?”
“Blame that shit on your brother. Turns out the accident I was in was because someone cut the brake line on your brother’s car. Now he’s all paranoid someone is going to come after me. He thinks it has to do with some big case he’s working on.”
“Oh my god. He’s so overprotective,” she says rolling her eyes. “When I lived with him, he would run background checks on guys I met on Tinder.”
I nod knowing exactly how she felt. He can be very stifling at times. “So now he has hired this guy to creepily lurk in my house and be my bodyguard.”
Sarah leans over in her chair trying to get a good look at Chris from the kitchen as she wrinkles up her nose and purses her lips.
“So he just sits there?”
“Yep.”
“Ryan is really that worried that something is going to happen all the way out here in Rockport? No offense but it’s also kinda the middle of nowhere. All touristy and shit.”
“I know, right? But since the baby and the accident and everything, he’s a little more worried than normal.” I shrug, chalking this up to my normal now.
“Baby?” Sarah asks, her head now whipping back up, her attention drawn away from Chris.
“He didn’t tell you that I’m pregnant?” I close my eyes, feeling like an idiot for ruining the surprise of it all.
“Nope.”
“Well, I guess that’s the theme of this pregnancy then. Ryan and I both found out I was pregnant after the accident. We had no idea. I’m sorry, I assumed he told you.”
“He didn’t tell me, but that’s okay,” she says smiling at me. “It’s really cool,” she shrieks, her excitement radiating off of her now. “I’m going to be an aunt. Who would’ve thought Ryan would be the first one of us to have a kid,” she continues, a smirk on her face. “I’m going to give him so much shit.”
She stands up and leans down to hug me, pulling me up from the chair, she wraps her arms around me tightly. I feel a lump form in my throat as I think about the fact that I don’t have a family to share this news with and her excitement is just a reminder of that.
I want to be happy, but every time I feel that small bit of happiness make its way in, I feel it slip through my fingers like trying to hold water in my fist. I hate to remind myself that I’m on my own, but it’s always there.
Sarah pulls back from me and notices the hesitation, the sadness in my eyes.
“What’s the matter?” Sarah asks, sounding like her mother as concern blankets her words.
“Nothing. I’m just hormonal and emotional, I guess.” I swipe at my eyes, and put on a smile to show her I’m okay, but it’s obvious we both know I’m lying. There’s no sense in trying to hide it. “It just sucks that I don’t really have a family to share it with, that’s all.” I try to keep it casual; breeze over it like it’s nothing.
‘That’s not true at all,” Sarah says firmly, her hand reaching over to take mine. “We’re your family, Erin. We’re going to be here no matter what. I mean, you’re kinda stuck with Ryan now, and that sucks, but you made that choice,” she says jokingly as she winks at me. “You’re not going to believe how excited my mom is going to be. Get ready.” She widens her eyes and shakes her head, like I’ll need to prepare myself.
“Thanks, Sarah. That does help.”
“Now let’s get some shitty food and watch a movie to celebrate. I’d suggest we get drunk, but it turns out you can’t do that anymore.”
“There’s a few places in town we can order from, but no one delivers,” I say as I pull a couple of menus from a drawer in my kitchen. “What do you feel like?”
Sara
h flips through the menus and we eventually settle on Chinese food and burgers, an odd combo, but I was craving both and Sarah pointed out that I should give in to my cravings.
“Hey dude,” Sarah calls as we both walk into the living room. “Can you go pick up our food?”
“Name’s Chris,” he answers back, standing up and extending a hand to Sarah as she stands in front of him. His eyes are trained on hers as she shakes his hand and introduces herself. “And no, Sarah, I can’t go pick up your food.”
“Why not?” she questions, her hip jutting out and her tongue poking out to wet her lips. She’s totally trying to seduce this guy into picking up our food.
“Because I’m not here to pick up food. I’m here to make sure Erin is safe and if I leave I can’t possibly do that.”
“Ugh,” Sarah moans, flipping her braid over her shoulder, she stomps away to put her boots on. “Fine, I’ll go get the food,” she responds annoyed, grabbing the menu for the Chinese food restaurant and the one for Beck’s pub so she has the addresses.
I flop down on the couch next to Chris, flipping the TV on and surprisingly, he gets up and moves to the front door, opening it for Sarah and following her out.
I think nothing of this since he’s been leaving the house every hour or so to check the perimeter like Ryan requested. All I care is that my house is quiet and back to normal for a few minutes.
A half an hour passes and Sarah is still not back. The town isn’t big enough for anything to take a half an hour and I grow concerned. Texting her a couple of times, but getting no response. Then I hear the back door open, the alarm chime sounding to let me know.
I’m up from the couch and making my way to the back door when I see Chris walk in.
“Where were you?” I ask, suspicious of the fact that it took him far longer to make his rounds around the house. I’m glaring at him, but his face remains impassive.
“I stopped to smoke a cigarette and then I thought I’d give you a few minutes to yourself,” he says brushing past me and taking a seat at the kitchen table. He pulls out his phone and goes back to ignoring me.
I stand there for a few seconds eyeing him and wondering why he’s being so sketchy, when the alarm chime sounds for the front door this time, and Sarah comes through looking frazzled.
“What took so long?” I ask, looking her up and down. Her hair is coming out of her braid, strands framing her flushed cheeks as she tries to carry the food and her oversized parka. She’s disheveled and I swear her sweater is on inside out, but when I go to question her more she spits out, “The food wasn’t ready.”
She shoves the bags at me and drops her coat on the floor, slipping off her untied boots that I know were tied when she left the house. We both stand staring at each other and I burst out laughing. I don’t know whether I should be shocked or find the whole situation humorous.
“What?” she asks and her voice comes out high and breathless, almost winded like she’s been running or…
“Oh my god, did you have sex with Chris?” I whisper shout, stepping closer to her, my hand wrapping around her upper arm, because I want to shake some sense into her if she did.
“What?” she says again, but this time shock replaces her breathless tone. “No, fuck no! That hired street thug? Even I have standards,” she states, her hands on her hips now, appalled that I would even think it.
“Okay, then what’s with this?” I ask, my hand flitting in her direction as she tries to smooth the wrinkles out of her leggings; her fingers quickly tucking her loose strands of hair behind her ears.
“Nothing. It’s cold outside,” she replies back, but won’t make eye contact with me, and again I’m laughing.
Sarah heads into the kitchen, passing by Chris without either of them looking at each other and I know something is up. I watch them both from the doorway as Sarah rummages through drawers for utensil and plates, and gathers what she needs.
“Grab us something to drink,” Sarah says as she takes everything into the living room and sets it down on the coffee table.
I grab some bottled water and sit down next to her on the couch; still totally suspicious that something is going on.
The room falls silent with the exception of the crinkling of the paper bags as Sarah unpacks the food, and I ask her again. “You didn’t have sex with Chris?”
“No, I didn’t,” she says, letting out an exasperated sigh before she shouts, “Hey bodyguard, did we have sex?” And now it’s me whose face flushes red, stunned by her boldness, but practically in awe that I’ve met someone who is as vocal as I am.
“No,” he responds back coldly and says nothing more.
“See.” Sarah shrugs her shoulders and begins eating straight from the carton of fried rice.
She’s lying.
Several hours later, we’ve finished off the massive quantity of food we’ve ordered and are on our last movie, The Bodyguard. A choice made by Sarah I think to intentionally make Chris feel uncomfortable, and she ups the uncomfortable factor when she starts belting out, “I Will Always Love You”.
There’s no possible way she didn’t have sex with him.
The chaos of Sarah’s life is a nice distraction from mine.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ryan
I need this fucking fixed.
Sir?
FIX IT! For fucks sake, do I have to spell it out for you?
Okay, okay, message received, loud and clear. Don’t worry sir, I’ll take care of it.
I don’t want any more fuck ups, you hear me? This was not how things were supposed to go down. To think I trusted you with everything, Jesus Christ.
Sir, Mr. Fitz-
Don’t you say another fucking word.
Sorry.
[Loud exhale] Look, just get the job done. Archie will be in touch with the details. Call me when it’s over.
Will do, sir. You can count on me.
Good, don’t make me regret this.
I wo-
[Dial tone]
“Wow, he actually thinks if this guy doesn’t say his name that we won’t know it’s him?” I say, shaking my head in amazement. “Like we don’t monitor everything this asshole does?”
Joe chuckles. “I know, right? Either he’s dumber than we thought or that redhead of yours has well and truly pissed him off.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Ah yeah, I’m going with the latter on this one.”
“We should tell the captain,” Joe says. “Work out what we do next.”
I let out a long breath before taking a sip of coffee. “Yeah, I know. Come on, let’s go.”
I grab the recording and we both walk out of my office and head to the captain’s, where he ushers us in.
“Updates?” he asks.
I nod. “Yes, something pretty good too.”
Rather than explaining what we’ve got, I put the recorder on his desk and hit play. As Fitzgerald’s gravelly voice cuts through the silence of the office, it’s not hard to hear just how agitated he is. I’m not sure what Erin said to him when she saw him yesterday, but whatever it is, it’s worked. And as much as I hate the idea of her having anything more to do with this guy, even if he is her father, I can’t help but be grateful that what she’s done might actually finally get us somewhere.
When the recording is finished, the captain looks at both of us. “Do we know who he was speaking to?”
Joe nods and slides over the folder. “Hamish Donnelly,” he says. “Frequent flyer in the system as a kid and not much has changed since he allegedly grew up.”
“Part of Fitzgerald’s crew?” the captain asks, opening up the folder and looking through this guy’s record.
“Seems like it,” I add. “Although relatively minor stuff from what we can tell. Definitely not the gun thing, so probably more of a courier type.”
“Think he’s in with Macklin too?”
I shrug. “One would assume so, yeah,”
I say. “From what Erin told me, Macklin was essentially groomed to take over, so I’d guess that would include both the business and the crew. There’s no evidence to suggest he’s cleaned house and given Fitzgerald is clearly still involved, it wouldn’t be a smart move on Macklin’s part if he did.”
“Right,” the captain says, eyeing the folder again. “So, we going to talk about the elephant in the room then?”
Joe and I glance at each other.
The captain shuts the folder, drumming his fingers on the cover as he looks from me to Joe and back to me again. “Who the hit is for?” he says.
I let out a long exhale, scrubbing a hand down my face as I sit forward in my chair. “Well me, obviously,” I say. “It’s really no surprise given the earlier threats and the fact he didn’t succeed with the cut break line, is it?”
“No,” the captain says. “But it is a problem.”
“How so?”
“Ryan,” he says, sliding the folder back toward me. “A mob boss has just put a hit out on you, it literally doesn’t get any more serious than that.”
“So, I’m off the case,” I say, pushing back my chair and standing.
“I didn’t say that,” he says.
“So what then?” I say, turning to face him, hands on my hips.
“Would you sit down please?” he says, gesturing toward my chair. “I’m not taking you off the case, okay?”
I nod, knowing I tend to overreact a little when it comes to this case. It’s hard not to now it also involves my girlfriend. I shove a hand through my hair as I sit back down. “What then?”
“Well,” he says, steepling his hands together. “I think it’s about time we stopped playing their game and started playing ours.”
“Meaning?” Joe asks.
“Meaning,” the captain continues. “I think instead of sitting around and waiting for something to happen, we need to take this fight to them.”
The captain pauses, swallowing hard as he turns to look at me and I immediately know that whatever he is about to suggest, I’m not going to like it.
