Wrong Turn, Right Direction

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Wrong Turn, Right Direction Page 28

by Elle Casey


  “No, I don’t. He’s just a few days old. But I don’t have any.”

  “Okay, I want you to start with this one.” He holds up a bottle. “It’s amoxicillin. You fill the bottle up to this line with water, shake it real good, and feed it to him with the dropper. Keep it refrigerated. If this doesn’t work, or if you see him with a rash or having any trouble breathing, you give him some of this antihistamine and try this other one here. Same directions. Add water, et cetera.”

  I take both bottles from him and look at them closely. “What if he gets a rash with the second one?”

  “Then you need to go to the hospital. I know you’ve got some kind of situation going on here, and I don’t really want to know what it is, but if he breaks out in a rash after both of these different medications and he’s having difficulty with his respiration, that’s an emergency. You’ll need to go somewhere that has all of the medications and equipment that a baby suffering an allergic reaction might need immediately.”

  “You’re scaring me right now.”

  “I don’t mean to do that. I know you’re a new mom, and you’re sensitive to this stuff. My professional opinion is that your son is going to be just fine. Like I said, this is normal. This happens to almost all babies. Just follow the instructions that I’m going to write down for you on this paper, give him the antibiotics for the full ten days, and he should be fine. I’ll give you my cell phone number so you can call me anytime, night or day, if you have any questions.”

  “I will call you, you know. I’m not one of those polite people who won’t call because I’m worried about bothering somebody.”

  He smiles. “That’s fine. I wouldn’t give you my number if I didn’t want you to use it.”

  I look out the office door at Ozzie, who’s standing by himself and staring at the flight line. “Thank you, Ozzie.”

  He looks over at me. “No problem.”

  Thibault leaves the office to talk to Ozzie. His voice carries right into the space where the doctor and I are sitting. I get up and walk out into the main part of the hangar so they’ll know I’m there and that their conversation isn’t private. Baby Tee isn’t happy, so I busy myself with soothing him and trying to interest him in eating. Ozzie and Thibault’s conversation filters into my brain like a television running in the background.

  “So what am I supposed to do now?” Thibault asks.

  “I think you need to talk to the NOPD. I’ve spoken with the chief. They’re ready to take her in and keep her safe. I don’t know what was going on with those guys at the diner. I don’t know if they’re legit or not, and I’m in no position to figure that out right now.”

  “We have connections over there.”

  “I know we do. But I thought these guys were good, and who knows if they are, so now I’m not sure I can trust anything that’s happening over there right now. This guy Pavel . . . He’s got his fingers in a lot of pies.”

  “Yeah. It’s not worth the risk.”

  Ozzie looks at his friend. “This girl means something to you.” He glances at me.

  I think I’m supposed to hear this. I try not to stare at them, but I’m hanging on every word.

  He nods. “Yes, she does.” I can’t see his expression, but I can hear the truth in his voice and in his face. “She’s special. I’m not going to let her walk away. I can’t.”

  It feels like a lightning bolt has hit my heart when I hear him say that. I turn away slightly so he won’t see my face. Tears well up, but I’m smiling. I think it’s wrong to be so happy that he feels this way about me, because it’s only going to bring him more trouble, but I can’t help it; the feelings between us are mutual. Fate has dealt us a mighty blow, causing us to meet when we can’t possibly be together for long, but I can’t work up the emotion to regret that.

  Ozzie slaps him on the back. “I’m happy for you, man. Just do me a favor . . .”

  “What’s that?”

  “Make sure you fall for the right reasons.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He faces Thibault fully, and I have to pretend to be busy with the baby’s blanket so he won’t see that I’m eavesdropping like the desperate fool I am.

  “You’ve been put in the extraordinary situation of helping a woman give birth to a baby. And she’s not just any woman . . . She is the quintessential damsel in distress, running from the Russian mafia and all that comes with that. You’ve had a Superman complex since you were seven years old. I’m just sayin’ . . .”

  So his friend knows him that well. What a lucky man Thibault is, to have people like that in his life. It makes me care about him even more. I have not only my own experiences with him but confirmation from all these people of how special he is, people who the police trust and work with. It’s confirmed: he’s one of the good guys.

  “Come on, man, give me a break. Enough . . . That joke has been played out.” Thibault sounds mad.

  “What costume did you wear for Halloween for five years running?”

  I look up to see Thibault shrugging. “I don’t know . . . Spider-Man?”

  Ozzie shakes his head. “Nope.”

  “Batman?”

  Ozzie starts to smile. “Nope.”

  “Aw, come on. I was seven years old.”

  “You were Superman when you were seven, eight, nine, ten, and eleven years old. And the only reason why you weren’t Superman when you were twelve is because we stopped trick-or-treating at eleven.”

  “Lucky didn’t. Dev didn’t.”

  “Yeah, but you did. Because you were too cool to trick-or-treat, remember?” He shakes his head, staring out at the flight line again. “You were always so serious, so dedicated. You always knew exactly what you were doing and how you were doing it.”

  “I didn’t always.”

  “Yeah, when your grandparents died. I remember.”

  “But then you came back from your tours in Iraq and straightened me out.”

  “You were already on your way to straightening out. You just needed to get your shit figured out first.”

  “Did I ever thank you for what you did for me? For giving me a job and something to get up for in the morning?”

  “Many times. Have I ever thanked you back?”

  “For what?”

  Ozzie puts his hand on Thibault’s shoulder. “For always being my best friend. For always standing by my side. For being the best partner and co-worker a guy could have.”

  I am so happy for Thibault and Ozzie. I’ve never had a friend like that. Thibault deserves it, though. It makes me want to hug Ozzie for being there for him. If he hadn’t, maybe Thibault wouldn’t have been at that coffee shop that day, and he wouldn’t have stepped off that curb without looking, and I wouldn’t have hit him . . .

  Thibault puts his hands on his hips, drops his head, and shakes it slowly. “You’ve been married too long, my friend. May is really rubbing off on you.”

  “You got a problem with that?”

  Thibault looks up. “Hell, no, I don’t have a problem with that. You were way too mean before you met her. And besides . . . she was right, that beard was ugly as shit.”

  Ozzie tips his head back and laughs. “I keep telling her I’m going to grow it back. Every time she tries to make me wear a pink shirt, I tell her I’m putting my razor away for good.”

  “If I ever see you in a pink shirt, I’m going to shoot you, so you don’t need to worry about the beard.”

  Ozzie puts Thibault in a friendly headlock. “Please do. I’ll make myself a nice big target.”

  The doctor picks up his bag and stops in the doorway, hesitating as he sees the men wrestling. I walk up to the guys. “I don’t mean to break up the lovefest, but I think the doctor wants to go now.”

  Ozzie and Thibault separate, and Ozzie comes over to me.

  “Mika, how would you feel about going to talk to Detective Holloway and giving him that code?” He looks at me and Thibault. “I don’t know what’s going on with the
FBI. We can look into that. But the chief of police at the NOPD has given me his assurances that Holloway is a good guy.”

  “I don’t know.” I look at Thibault. “What do you think I should do?”

  “I think you should trust my best friend and go talk to the detective, but I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable doing. I trust whatever decision you make, and I’ll support it.”

  “Okay, then.” I stand there looking at these big men. I remember Jenny hunched over her computer telling me things about my friend Alexei and the assurances they gave me that they’d look for him. I realize that I trust the Bourbon Street Boys more than anyone else. And I believe Thibault when he says Tee and I will be safe.

  “That’s what I’ll do. Give the code to Holloway if you think it’ll help me.”

  Ozzie claps his hands together and rubs them. “Let’s go. We’ll take my car.”

  “What about your SUV?” I ask Thibault.

  “We’ll get it later.”

  The three of us get into Ozzie’s car and wave to the doctor as he drives away in his own vehicle. Thibault rides in the front seat next to Ozzie while I take a seat in the back next to the baby. I curl up next to him, resting my head on the seat and closing my eyes. I’m drifting off to sleep when Ozzie’s whisper weaves its way into my brain.

  “She’s tough. Brave,” he says so softly I almost don’t hear it over the radio that’s playing.

  “She sure is.”

  “I always hoped she’d come along eventually.”

  “She?”

  “The girl who could crack your shell and get into the soft inside you hide so well.”

  Thibault laughs. “I know that didn’t come from you.”

  “Yeah, so what. It came from May, but I don’t disagree.”

  “You are so whipped.”

  “Yeah, well, welcome to the club.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The next two days pass by like a whirlwind. The Bourbon Street Boys have a lot of pull at the NOPD and with the local office of the FBI. They arrange everything while I hang out with Thibault in their warehouse apartment, nursing my baby back to health and finding out even more reasons to fall for this man who still wants to be my superhero.

  Thibault and I spend half the days and most of the nights lying in each other’s arms, talking about our pasts, mostly. We don’t discuss the future much because it’s so unclear. I don’t think either of us wants to risk tempting fate.

  I finally feel safe and secure, though. I know it’s probably temporary, but I allow myself to enjoy it while I have it. The Bourbon Street Boys’ office warehouse is as close to a fortress as I could hope for. While we stay upstairs in Ozzie’s apartment, Dev and Lucky take turns on guard duty, stationed on the ground floor, monitoring the security cameras that watch the entire building and the area surrounding it.

  Although Tee is still sick, at least his fever is finally gone and he’s eating again. I’ve actually gotten a few hours of sleep too, and with Ozzie cooking for us, we’ve been eating like royalty. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for my joint interview with the NOPD and the FBI.

  I’m allowed to bring one person into the interrogation room for my deposition. Now that they have the data and the codes to decrypt everything, all they need is me on camera saying that it’s all real—that I’m the person who created the data, saved it, encrypted it, and then presented it to them. I wanted Thibault to come with me, but he’s insisting I bring my attorney.

  “You have to, babe. I don’t want them to try to mess you up. This lady knows the law, and I don’t.”

  “Are you going to be here when I’m done? They said it’ll take hours.”

  He’s holding Tee in his arms as we stand in the hallway at the police station. He lifts him up higher. “Baby Tee and Big Tee are going to be right here. We’re not leaving this spot.” He points at the conference room. “I’m just going to be on the other side of the wall from you. As soon as you walk out the door, you’ll have a hungry baby here who can’t wait to see you.”

  “Have you thought any more about what you want to do?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder at the room. The door opens, revealing six people inside waiting for me. Ozzie warned us: they’re going to offer me witness protection, and it’s possible I can negotiate bringing someone with me. Thibault and I both heard him say it this morning on the way over, but I haven’t had the guts to actually ask him if he wants to come with me. His entire life is here. I don’t want to put him in the position of having to choose, but I’m going in there with all those people who want to rake me over the coals, and I desperately need to know if I’m going to leave here alone and have to start my life over without him.

  He nods, his brows drawn together and his mouth turned down. “I have. But let’s talk about it when you get out of there. I don’t want you to stress out about it. Everything is going to be fine.” He’s anxious, like me.

  “If you can’t . . . you know . . . come with me, I understand. I want you to, don’t get me wrong, but asking you to leave your family and your friends and your job . . . It’s too much.” My eyes are bright with tears. “I can’t do that.”

  “Stop worrying about it . . . please? Just go in there and talk to them. One thing at a time.”

  “Ms. Cleary? Could you step inside, please?” Detective Holloway has what looks like his best suit on. He’s gesturing to an empty chair on the opposite side of the table.

  “I’ll be right here.”

  Thibault leans over and kisses me. “Hurry up. This baby’s gonna wake up soon, and I won’t have what he’s looking for.”

  I kiss Tee on the head and turn around to leave. As I reach the door I look over my shoulder at Thibault. “Thanks. For everything.”

  “Love you.” He blinks a few times after he says it, looking a little shell-shocked. I think the words came out a lot louder than he planned. Or maybe he wasn’t planning on saying them at all.

  His declaration is like a ray of light bursting through black clouds to brighten my life. I’m smiling when I walk into the room, which is a hell of a lot better than what I was doing a split second before Thibault opened his mouth and let his heart fall out on the floor—namely, freaking out. Now I’m just having some heart palpitations, but that’s okay. I’m getting used to this roller coaster of emotions that I’ve been riding since we met.

  As the door shuts, I look out at him from the tiny square window and mouth the words: “You are so crazy.” I love him too . . . so much. But I’m not going to say it now and influence him into doing something he shouldn’t. Whatever happens next between us has to be his decision, without guilt, without expectation, and without illusions.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  The baby is finally asleep, and Thibault and I are in bed together. We’re in my favorite spot: tangled in each other’s arms, breathing in each other’s scent. I could never get tired of this. I’m going to miss it so much it hurts.

  “Are you happy with how it turned out?” he asks. He sounds so friendly. So cool. We’re both pretending it’s no big deal that Tee and I are going away.

  “Yes.” I can’t tell him how sad it makes me to leave him behind. I have to pretend I got everything I wanted.

  “Did they say how long you’ll be gone?”

  “They just said they don’t know. It could be years. It could be forever. It totally depends on what happens with the trial and how many of Pavel’s people they can pull in with their sting operation.”

  “We should know in the next couple weeks,” Thibault says. “They have the data. They have all his contacts and the connections, thanks to you. Now it’s just a matter of the FBI and NOPD working together with their manpower to tie it all up.”

  “Yep.” I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I just want to forget any of this is happening. I can’t keep up the charade that it’s not killing me to leave him behind.

  “I told you I loved you today,” he says softly.

  My face grow
s warm and my heart beats stronger. “Yes, you did.”

  “And you called me crazy.”

  “Yes, I did.” He is crazy. And so am I, unfortunately.

  “Is that nuts? To fall in love with someone after knowing her for only a week?”

  “I don’t think so.” I slide my hand across his chest. “Plenty of people do. Lots of people believe in love at first sight.”

  “Do you?”

  “Maybe.”

  He lifts my chin with his finger. “You are making me crazy, you know that?”

  My hand stills. “Do you want me to stop touching you?”

  “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  I roll away and sit up, my back to him. I’m trying to make this easier on him, but he’s making it impossible.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “Nothing.”

  He rubs my back. “Please talk to me.”

  Tears are burning my eyes, and my throat is instantly sore from the effort of holding them back. “I can’t. It’s too hard.”

  He sits up and slides over to be next to me. We’re both facing the wall at the edge of the bed. He holds my hand and rests it on his thigh. “You haven’t told me whether you negotiated a third seat on that plane out of here.”

  My heart is aching so badly, it has to be getting a crack in it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Why?” he asks.

  I’m surprised by the pain I hear in his voice. I look up to find his expression anguished.

  “Because!” I throw my hand up. “Look at this place! This is your place. These are your people. This is what you were born to do!”

  “But I can do what I do from anywhere in the world.”

  “But what about your friends? Your family?”

  His face crumples and his eyes fill with tears. “I’ll miss them.”

  I shake my head at him. “You would walk away from the best friends you’ve had for your whole life and your family . . . for me?”

  He drops his face into his hand. He sits there for a really long time. I don’t dare move. Everything hangs in the balance. I’m either going to walk out of here tomorrow to start everything on my own, or do it as part of a team. It’s a lose-lose proposition; both options will bring great pain to this man I’ve grown to love. The choices I made five years ago are wreaking absolute havoc today, and there’s nothing I can do about it but watch it happen.

 

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