Giving It Up

by Amber Lin

  That was enough to knock the brothers apart, thank God. Colin rolled to a stand, breathing hard. Philip, battered and disheveled, lounged on the ground like he’d just sat down for a picnic. Fucking Philip, with his clipped, almost accented words, even though I knew he was from here, and his fancy clothes and house. He thought he had power, but he was just a fucking poser. True power was Colin protecting me. Colin believing in me, seeing me fuck a guy in an alley and thinking I was worth more than my dirty actions.

  When my ears stopped ringing from the boom, I heard sirens.

  “If they didn’t know where we were before,” Philip said, “they do now. Let’s wrap this up, shall we?”

  “Fuck you,” Colin spat.

  Philip affected a bored look, but I wasn’t fooled. His eyes shot daggers at me. Mine shot them right back. The man had just tried to kill me. I wasn’t inclined to be polite anymore.

  “Fine,” he said. “I’d hate for the cops to catch us with our pants down, so to speak. We can fight over the bitch later.”

  Colin growled at Philip’s reference to me, looking almost ready to pounce.

  “Guys,” Shelly said in a singsong voice. “I think we have bigger problems.”

  I looked at her, and then I saw them. Surrounding us were three thugs and the cop, my own personal nightmare come true. No one had weapons drawn, but these weren’t the sort to bring a knife to a gunfight. This was what I’d come here to avert—Colin caught, Colin endangered—but here we were.

  Because of me, Colin was here. Because of me, we were all fucked. The story of my life.

  Philip stood and brushed himself off, then gave an ironic bow to Shaw. “Hello, Detective.”

  Clearly no introductions were necessary.

  “You’re under arrest,” Shaw said with a smirk. “You have the right to remain silent. Should I go on? I know you’ve heard it before.”

  “If you’re going to arrest me, then by all means, continue.” Philip shrugged, the picture of a man unconcerned. “But I think we both know that’s not what’s going to happen.”

  “I might,” Shaw murmured. “I just might. Or maybe one of your whores.” He eyed Shelly.

  “I don’t share,” Philip said.

  “That’s not what she says,” Shaw taunted. It was a schoolyard insult, but somehow it rang true. “She’s been talking to the cops.”

  Philip’s facade paused in a freeze-frame; then he turned slowly to Shelly, who shrank from him.

  “You,” he said incredulously. Every muscle tensed as I watched him for the rage that would come. An asshole like him wouldn’t take well to one of his own betraying him, but oddly he looked more confused than furious. Hurt, almost.

  Shelly put her hands up like she was apologizing for forgetting to pick up milk at the damn grocery store. She actually took a step toward him. I wanted to shout at her to get away, but it caught in my throat. Why wasn’t she afraid of him?

  “I’m sorry, Philip.” Her mouth tightened as she looked Shaw over. “It wasn’t him, though.”

  Shaw flicked his gaze to me, and his eyes hardened. “No, someone gave me some misinformation. I figured that out soon enough. It was my partner, but I’m afraid he’s been unavoidably detained at the moment.” He sighed with exaggerated forbearance. “I’ll have to clean up this mess by myself.”

  “What do you want?” Philip said as if bored. “More money? How trite.”

  Shaw’s forehead ridged in anger. He couldn’t act even half as cool as Philip. I had to give Philip credit for that much. He played his part well, even when he was outgunned.

  “I already have a friend with deep pockets,” Shaw said. “Turns out you aren’t that popular. Dimitri Golastov wants you dead.”

  Philip snorted. “A street dealer who pretends he’s playing in the big leagues. Buying up cops with his daddy’s money.”

  Shaw looked briefly disconcerted, but only for a moment. “Yeah, well, there’s a lot of it, and cash rules the street. He’s got all the players in place. Now all he needs to do is knock out the competition.”

  “You’re the one who’s been fucking with the shipments,” Colin said.

  Shaw shrugged. “When I could find them, and assuming I could keep my snotty little partner away. I knew it would only be a matter of time before you came to one of these drops yourself.” He nodded toward one of his men. “Put the girls in the car. We’ll deal with these two here.”

  When one of the men made a move toward me, Colin stepped between us. “I don’t think so.”

  “Let’s do them all,” one of the men said.

  Shaw’s eyes slid to me, then down my body. “I’d hoped for a little more time with you, but I don’t want this to get messy.” His gaze lingered on my breasts. I resisted the urge to cover them with my hands. Then he nodded to the one who’d spoken. “Do it.”

  An efficient one, he was, because he lifted his gun and aimed it straight at Philip’s chest. The money shot.

  The bang sounded just as Shelly flew in front of him. Even before they’d collapsed in a heap, Colin had knocked down the guy nearest us. He pushed me down. My cheek hit the concrete with an alarming crack. Dazed, I heard more gunshots, but all I could think of was Shelly. What the hell had she been thinking to do that, any of it? God, let her be okay.

  I looked up to see the first shooter fall back. The sirens whined closer. Shaw took off at a sprint in the opposite direction. Once he’d lost his goons, he was toothless. Colin took off after him.

  Philip was crouched over Shelly. He would hurt her. Hit her, choke her; there were a million ways a man’s body could hurt a woman’s. He could do it because he wanted to, because he paid her, and most definitely because she’d betrayed him.

  Ignoring the throbbing in my head, I crawled over to them. And then stopped in horror.

  Shelly lay flat on the ground, a circle of blood spreading across her stomach. Her eyes blinked wide in her face, her skin pale under a layer of soot.

  “Don’t move.” Philip pulled off his jacket and pushed it into the wound. “We’ll get you to the hospital. You’ll be fine.”

  She tried to sit up.

  “No,” he said, pushing her gently down. “Stay still.” He wasn’t hurting her; he was helping her.

  A shudder ran through her, and then she lay still. He looked up at me, eyes bewildered. “I don’t know what to do,” he said.

  I shook my head. I didn’t either, and terror gripped me. This was Shelly.

  She smiled faintly up at me, ever on display. “Ouch.”

  My laugh came out watery. “I don’t understand. Did they threaten you? Why did you do it?”

  She blinked in slow motion. “Worse than that. I broke the rules. I fell for…”

  I looked at Philip and then back at her. It didn’t make sense. If she’d fallen for Philip, why would she betray him?

  “Not him,” she said, her breaths coming faster.

  I looked at Philip. He looked as confused as I was. Then who?

  Shelly squeezed her eyes shut as another shudder racked her body.

  “Shh,” he soothed, tucking a hair back from her face. “Just rest. It’s okay.”

  A car pulled to a screeching halt, dousing us in red-and-blue lights. A door slammed, but neither Philip nor I moved from Shelly’s side. I hadn’t expected this kind of self-sacrifice from Philip, to give himself up just to see that Shelly was okay. He seemed to be in shock.

  I hadn’t realized he’d actually cared, but he’d definitely been shocked and hurt when he’d realized she’d betrayed him. He looked devastated now that she was injured. He cared about her, but she’d fallen for someone else.

  The cop didn’t tell us to put our hands up or read us our rights. He didn’t even acknowledge us except to shove us out of his way to Shelly.

  He bent over her and ran his hands along her arms, frantically checking for more injuries. Shelly’s eyes were still closed, but I felt her tacit acknowledgment of him.

  “The ambulance is on its wa
y,” he told her in a gruff voice that I recognized. His name I remembered well—Detective Lucas Cameron. It had been on the card he’d given me.

  “Doesn’t even hurt,” she murmured.

  “That’s not good,” he said, clasping her hand between his. “Stay with me.”

  “I’m here.”

  They spoke quietly, intimately. Lover’s voices. I felt like a voyeur watching them. I looked again at Philip, whose ass was planted on the concrete. He looked like he’d just been steamrolled. I could almost feel bad for him. Almost.

  Oh, she’d gotten him good. Moving in with him, pretending to like him, getting him to care for her. Meanwhile she’d just been pumping him for information to feed to this guy. Except she did like Philip. I hadn’t misread that. She’d taken a bullet for him.

  More cops arrived. They went through the formalities, questioning both of us, and arresting me in relation to the explosion. Philip, who’d only arrived later, was allowed to go. Yeah, that stung like a motherfucker. I knew what my sins were, but I hadn’t done anything wrong here. Definitely nothing illegal, but somehow I ended up in the backseat of a car with flashing lights. Philip, with his money and his arrogance, got to walk away.

  I’d been playing a game without knowing the rules. I hadn’t even seen the board. Meanwhile Philip was arranging shit, and Shelly was turning on him, none of which I had any clue about, and Colin. Colin had been playing the middle, trying to appease both Philip and me, more fool him.

  I rested my face against the cool window of the police cruiser. I hoped Colin was okay, at least, wherever he was. I made excuses for why he didn’t come back, ones that didn’t involve him getting injured or him abandoning me. After all, it didn’t make much sense for a criminal to walk into a cop’s nest. He couldn’t have known they’d let Philip go, and besides, if Colin had shown up, they might have done something different. Police were dangerous because they were an unknown quantity. They could be working for the moral superiority or taking kickbacks or just trying to get a paycheck. At least the bad guys had a clear objective.

  I understood why he’d gone, but it still hurt. With Shelly sent off in the ambulance and Colin off to parts unknown, I was completely alone. It must have started raining, because a droplet wove down the glass and pooled at the bottom. One, then another. I’d watched them just like this when I rode in my dad’s truck. They never went in a straight path. That would have made the most sense, straight down. Instead they turned and curved and angled, taking a long, circuitous route to the end. It would be scary, I thought, to be that drop. To know she was going down, but not know how or when it would happen.

  My gaze flicked up to where Shelly was being loaded into the ambulance, Detective Cameron at her side. No, it wasn’t raining. It was me.

  God, Bailey.

  * * * *

  Even though we’d taken different vehicles, Shelly and I ended up at the same place. The county hospital was surprisingly cheery, for all that it was populated with the no-healthcare segment of the population. The blinding yellow lights and ridiculous sea-green walls said we might die here, but we’d die brightly.

  Although it looked like we wouldn’t die. Shelly had gotten out of surgery and was stable. The bullet had missed her major organs, only nicking her intestines. She’d been lucky.

  They’d patched up my scrapes and treated me for smoke inhalation, but it was my head that was the problem. I had a Grade III concussion, they said, and I’d stay in the hospital in case I kicked the bucket overnight. Ironic that my main injury was sustained when Colin had pushed me down out of the gunfire to protect me.

  They knew about Bailey, and a social worker was to check on her and decide what to do. Supposedly, but no one knew anything, and I wasn’t allowed to use the phone. Trust the system, the nurse said. I laughed aloud, an ugly sound. That had been two hours ago. It would be breaking dawn soon, and I still hadn’t heard anything.

  Oh, and that guard at the door would make sure I didn’t get any bright ideas. Thanks, system.

  My head pounded as if my old upstairs neighbor’s music was blaring into my brain. I was afraid to tell them, though, in case they’d give me something that would knock me out before I heard from the social worker.

  The door clicked open, and I tensed.

  Philip walked in, looking aggravatingly clean and fresh in a suit despite his black eye.

  “You bastard,” I said. The gravity of the night had settled in. I’d almost died because of him. I swung out of bed, ready for what would have surely been the feeblest ass-kicking ever. But it was worse than expected, because I hadn’t counted on the dizziness, despite the nurse’s warnings, and I ended up in a tangled heap on the floor.

  He was at my side, lifting me, and I took full advantage, swinging my fists. They glanced off the slick, tailored fabric with no injury to him, though I felt every blow reverberate in my skull. “You stupid, sick bastard. I hate you. You’re such a fucking bastard.”

  He dropped me back onto the bed and gave me a raised eyebrow that questioned my skills at insults. “Are you finished?”

  I glared at him. Bastard. “What are you doing here?”

  “Came to check on you,” he replied smoothly.

  “Uh-huh, and the guard just let you walk in here?”

  “He’s there to keep you in, not others out. Besides, despite what happened earlier, most of the cops are my friends.”

  “Friends or employees?” I asked.

  “What’s the difference?”

  I snorted, and a small smile cracked on his face.

  “Actually,” he said, “I thought you’d be glad to see me, since I bring news of Bailey.”

  I sat up so hard my head spun. “How is she?”

  “She’s fine. Relax. She’s with Colin back at home. I just came from there, and she’s still sleeping. When she wakes up, she’ll stay with him.”

  “Really?” I narrowed my eyes. “Is that what the social worker said?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Don’t mess with me,” I warned.

  He nodded. “At first she had other ideas, but then…let’s just say we became friends. Colin assumed that’s what you would want, rather than her being placed—”

  “That’s what I want.” I should no longer be surprised at the problems that could be solved with money. But well, the world had looked very different when I didn’t have any. I was glad of it now, though I still didn’t trust Philip. “Why didn’t Colin come himself?”

  Philip looked down, kicking his Italian leather shoes into the gray rubber tiles. He looked suddenly like a little boy who’d gotten in trouble, overgrown and overdressed. “He didn’t want to leave in case Bailey woke up. She knows him, so she wouldn’t be scared. And also…well, I am supposed to apologize.”

  The silence stretched.

  “So,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “For?” I asked.

  “For getting you almost raped and almost killed,” he mumbled. Then he added quickly, “I didn’t know he would hurt you. He was just supposed to pick you up. And the explosion, you weren’t supposed to even know about it if you weren’t spying on us—”

  “I just don’t understand why,” I said, baffled. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

  “I suppose I owe you an explanation.” He paused, a long, reluctant minute. “Our childhood wasn’t…easy. The three of us, we weren’t always together back then. And later I considered it my responsibility to make sure it stayed that way, no matter what. I’m sure that sounds like an excuse, because it is. It was wrong and paranoid, but it’s just that once a woman knows his name, what he’s worth…”

  He seemed to be waiting for me, reassurance maybe. “It’s a nice restaurant,” I finally said. “Seems like it’s doing very well, but that’s not why I was with him.”

  He looked faintly puzzled. “It does okay, sure, but where do you think he got the money to build it in the first place?”

  Ah, more guilt. “From you?”


  Definitely confused now. “No. From us, from what we—” Suddenly he laughed. “He didn’t even tell you, did he? He was in business with me. He’s probably got more banked than I do.”

  I frowned. “He said he did work for you.”

  Philip snorted. “We went into business together. I didn’t even come up with most of the ideas; he did. I was the strategist, but he was the dreamer. He was the one who wanted to get out. Settle down, he said, try to be normal. Then he hooks up with some girl from a nightclub, and she happens to have a baby but no father for it. A ready-made family, no offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “So you can see why I was worried. And then I hear that someone’s talking to the cops, giving them information, and I assumed it was you.” He sighed. “I’m truly sorry.”

  If he was lying, I couldn’t tell. The normally harsh lines of his face had smoothed, making him look so much younger. I felt very motherly, then, having to put aside my righteous anger in the face of a sincere apology. It sucked.

  “Are you going to throw money at someone so I can get out of here?” I asked crossly.

  He looked relieved I’d changed the subject and snapped back into his usual, brusque self. “We’re working on it. The cops want to hold on to somebody just so they can look like they’re doing their jobs. Laramie’s on it, and we should have you out of here in a few days—tops.”

  “Days?”

  “Tops,” he repeated. I rocked my head back onto the bed in frustration and immediately regretted it as my head throbbed in retaliation.

  He turned to leave.

  “Wait,” I said, and he looked back. I’d been hesitant to bring her up, but he was my only source of information. “Have you seen Shelly?”

  His eyes flashed briefly before they chilled. “No,” he said, like ice. He paused at the door, sighed. “Room 504,” he muttered before slipping out.

  I could have laughed. Why have her room number if he wasn’t going to see her?

  I was sure everyone thought I’d be comfortable enough here. Colin and Philip and even the cops probably thought it was a favor that I was here and not in jail, but I’d have preferred that. This room upturned too many memories. The smell, the thin, rough fabrics, and, when I forgot myself and looked up, the same bumpy ceiling tiles.