by Melissa Huie
Shane eased himself off me and helped me up. “Now I can go to sleep,” I quipped. Chuckling, he cleaned me up and slipped a tank top over my head. I climbed into bed and watched as he pulled on a pair of sweats and his socks. I frowned with confusion. “Why are you getting dressed?”
“Not tired. Feel like rolling to Adrian’s for a bit,” he muttered, slipping on his sneakers.
“It’s eleven o’clock on Thanksgiving night. Why don’t you wait until tomorrow?” Taken aback, the shift in his attitude had me concerned. Why, all of a sudden, is it so important for him to go tonight?
“You’re going to sleep right?” Shane asked pointedly. I nodded. “Well, it’s either hang out around here and putz around on the computer, or I can go to the shop and get some work done. The shop is behind on repairs and Adrian’s offering time and a half for anyone working the holiday weekend.”
“Hey, I’m just curious as to why this is suddenly coming up now. Why didn’t you mention anything earlier?”
Shane sighed with exasperation. “I don’t know, Megan. Maybe because I figured I would be tired. Or we’d stay at your mom’s longer. If this is such an issue, I’ll stay. That’s fine; we don’t need the money or anything.”
Are you fucking kidding me? My blood simmered with irritation. I held up my hands and said, “Lose the damn attitude. I was just wondering. I don’t care what you do. Just go.”
I was too pissed to look at him anymore and rolled onto my side, drawing the duvet up over my ears.
“Megs—” he started but I cut him off.
“Make sure the alarm is on when you leave.”
With my eyes closed tight and my breath held, I listened as I heard him shut the door softly. Once I heard the chime of the activated alarm, I allowed the tears prickling behind my eyelids to fall freely. The fact that he went didn’t bother me. Hell, I understood. However, the tone of his voice and his attitude concerned me. It was reminiscent of when Shane first moved in; how he always went out during the late night hours when I didn’t know that he was dealing for the Cartel as a narc for the FBI. Is this just a preview of what’s to come? I pushed the potential angst out of my mind. No, we’ll get through this. We’ll talk it through tomorrow.
*****
I woke up early to an empty bed. Not terribly unusual; Shane has a habit of not getting in until after the sun comes up. But it ticked me off to think that it didn’t bother him that I was upset last night. Lambasting him as soon as he walks through the door was my initial plan, but knowing our tempers, it wouldn’t solve anything.
I shrugged on my bathrobe and padded down the stairs with Penny in tow and started the coffee. The aroma of the percolating hazelnut brew filled the room as I searched the fridge for something to eat. I longed for the sweet, gooey, goodness of my mother’s famous cinnamon rolls, but Dr. Vaughn’s words “Gestational Diabetes” and “lower carbohydrate diet” echoed in my head. I had just pulled out the eggs and spinach to set about making an omelet, when my phone rang.
Once I looked at the number, my eyes widened in surprise. While hearing from Tommy on a regular basis is standard now, having him call me at seven-thirty in the morning isn’t.
“Hey Tommy,” I answered, as I whisked the egg and spinach mixture.
“Megan, I’m sorry to be calling you so early.”
“What’s going on?” My gut clenched with worry. Was it Shane? Did something happen to him?
“Shane was locked up this morning,”
Chapter 9
I dropped the whisk into the bowl, splattering raw eggs and spinach onto the counter. “What the hell happened? Is he okay?”
“Yeah. It was a street fight that got him arrested, but that’s not the worst. He was caught with an ounce of marijuana, which is a misdemeanor with a thousand dollar fine. With his record now clean and your uncle representing him, he shouldn’t get any time.”
I inhaled a shaky breath and sat down at the table. “What the hell happened? Where was he? Where is he now? Do I have to go and get him?”
“According to the Baltimore PD, he was arrested in Fells Point, on Broadway, outside the clubs. Shane was arrested along with two other guys, a Miguel Santori and a Donald Marcos. As soon as the PD pulled them apart, they clammed up. No reason was given for their brawl. All three of them went before Judge McMahon this morning. Luckily for Shane, the judge had a full docket and set bail relatively low. I’m picking him up now at Central Booking.” Tommy explained.
Knowing Shane was okay and not dead in alley somewhere allowed whatever relief I felt to turn into fury. The bastard lied to me. He specifically told me that he was going to the shop. And last I checked, the shop wasn’t in Baltimore’s Fells Point. Why the hell was he carrying pot? Is he dealing again? Who the hell are these guys he was with? Lost in my own thoughts and anger, I forgot that Tommy was still on the line.
“Tommy, I’ll bring him home.”
“Megs, I know you’re mad. But think about it. It won’t do you any good to storm up there and demand answers. You’re too keyed up right now. I’m sure he’s climbing the walls, ready to get out. Let me bring him home.”
“He hates your guts Tommy. Why would you do that?” I stated bluntly.
“Because I would rather risk his wrath, then for you to go there, rip him to shreds, and say things you’ll probably regret. This way, both of you can cool down.” Tommy answered calmly. He was right, of course. Cooler heads should prevail in this and right now I was heated with rage. Breathing out a long sigh, I agreed and told Tommy I’d see him soon. I hung up the phone and gripped my cup of coffee. My appetite now gone, I fought hard to remain calm. However, the questions and “what-if” scenarios ran through my head like a movie.
I headed upstairs to change, knowing I’d be more comfortable wearing clothes in an argument instead of pajamas. After pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweater, I waddled back downstairs just as the kitchen door was unlocked. Momentarily forgetting my anger, I rushed over to the door as Shane walked in. I gasped when I took in the bruises on his face. His right eye was swollen and already turning purple. The cut on his lip stood out against the five-day growth of his goatee. But that wasn’t the worst. The worst was the look of shame he gave me as he tried to brush past me.
“Wait a minute. We need to talk about this,” I said sharply, grabbing his arm.
He pulled back quickly. “I’m beat. I’m going to bed. We’ll talk later.” Shane stalked across the room and up the stairs without a word. Speechless, I looked at Tommy with my mouth gaping.
“Let him sleep it off Megs. He’ll be okay.” Tommy reassured me. Yeah, but will we be okay? “I have to run. I’ll call you later.” He gave me a quick peck on the forehead and closed the door behind him.
Frustrated at my lack of answers, I quickly called my Uncle Bob.
“Hi Uncle Bob.”
“Hey Megs. I was just about to call you. Have you spoken with Shane?” he asked. Getting straight to the point I see.
“Actually, I was going to ask you the same question. Apparently there was an incident this morning,” I said cautiously.
“I’m aware. I spoke with Shane this morning and I wired the money for the bail. However, he didn’t want me to pick him up. Were you able to get him home?”
“No, Tommy gave him a ride home. I didn’t hear anything about it until Tommy called me this morning,” I replied, my voice cracking with frustration.
“Hmmm. In any case, we have a hearing in December to discuss the charges. He will probably be on probation and have to pay a fine, but I don’t believe we’re looking at jail time.”
“Thanks Uncle Bob, for everything. How much was his bail? I can pay you back,” I stated, wondering how on earth I could ever repay him for his care and generosity.
Chuckling awkwardly, he coughed then said, “Don’t worry about it. Consider this part of my pro-bono work.”
Gratefully, I repeated my thanks and promised to forward his message for Shane to call him back once he
woke up. With my head full of questions and the answers sleeping upstairs, I walked around the living room, anxious for something to do. I combed the internet for baby gear and Christmas presents until my hand cramped, threw the ball for Penny, and flipped through the channels until exhaustion overtook me.
After a two-hour nap on the couch, I awoke to find Penny staring up the stairs. “What’s up Pen?” I said groggily, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. The sound of footsteps upstairs had me bolt up into a sitting position just as Shane came down the stairs.
“Hi.” I said pointedly.
His closely cut brown hair glistened from his shower and his hazel eyes widened in surprise. “Oh hey. I didn’t think you were home.”
“Where else would I be?” I asked, incredulous.
Shane shrugged and walked into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door. “I don’t know, the mall I guess? Your mom’s?”
“Are you serious? You get arrested and not tell me anything about it – and you think the perfect place for me is the mall? Come on Shane. Give me a little bit of credit. I was worried sick about you!” What the hell is his problem?
Slamming the fridge door shut, he turned around with a defiant look on his face.
“I know. I fucked up. I’m sorry,” he shot back.
“I’m glad you’re apologizing. But tell me what happened. Why were you in Baltimore? Why were you in a fight? What is up with the weed? And why the hell did you lie to me?” I demanded, the questions falling like water.
“You wouldn’t believe me anyway, so why bother?” he muttered, slumping on the kitchen table.
“Why even bother? Because I’m worried Shane! This isn’t like you. You’ve worked so damn hard to get your record clean, so why fuck it up now? I don’t understand what’s going through your head. Talk to me please. If you won’t explain to me what is going on, I’ll end up with my own conclusions, and that’s not a good thing,” I cried as tears of frustration welled up.
“So you think the worst of me? Is that it? Thanks Megan, for your vote of confidence,” he snapped defensively.
“Look at me. Right now,” I grabbed his face and forced him to look into my eyes. All I saw was sadness and disgrace. “I love you. I believe in you. But you have to tell me the truth. No more lies.”
His shoulders sagged in defeat. “I know.”
“What’s going on?” I asked softly, pulling up a chair next to him.
Shane rubbed his face vigorously, as if trying to wake up. “I haven’t been working overtime at Adrian’s shop. I’ve been out looking for anything I can find on the Cartel.”
“Okay. Why?”
“Because they’re still out there. They tried to kill you and the baby. They almost killed me. Do you honestly think I can let them get away with that? I know they are still out there. They are hiding, just waiting for the right time to strike. Those guys that I was fighting? Drug pushers. I was trying to get some information on the Cartel.”
My heart pounded. “You need to just leave it alone Shane. If you know something, tell Tommy. Let the FBI handle this. Don’t do this on your own.”
“I can’t trust them Megan! It was because of them the safe house was torched and those men died. It’s because of them you were in that gun fight in Deep Creek Lake. All that information was supposed to be a secret, not known to anyone outside Tommy’s group. But yet we were fucking targeted. The Cartel knew exactly where we were. There is a fucking leak inside that organization, there has to be. Why do you think I’m doing this? To prove something? Hell, I think I proved enough by walking across this country to get to you.”
“I know you did but I’m begging you. Please leave the Cartel alone. I just got you back. Who’s to say that once they find out where you are, they won’t be coming around looking for you, looking for us? We’re not on their radar. Why are you bringing the fight home?”
“They don’t know I’m back,” was Shane’s steely reply.
“Oh yeah – what happens when those guys you fought with go running back to the Cartel, huh? Hell, for all we know, they are on their way here now. Do they know you’re the narc?” Panicked, I looked toward the kitchen door, waiting for the knob to turn.
“No. They don’t know me and didn’t hear me give my name to the cops. Miguel and Don are small-time pushers that don’t matter too much. They are lower drug pushers that don’t know anything about the upper management.”
“Tommy says that the Cartel is a mess. Reggie is dead. How can you be sure the Cartel is up and running?” I demanded.
“The Cartel isn’t as disorganized as Tommy thinks. I’ve been hearing things that say otherwise. Plus, Kate—”
“Kate? You’ve been talking to Kate?” I interrupted. I was surprised that he’d been talking to her—his former handler who acted as his girlfriend in the beginning of this whole mess, and also Tommy’s old partner.
“Well, yeah. You left your computer opened and I was up late one night. Your Skype chirped, and well – we just started talking. She’s been working the Cartel angle down in Miami.”
“She never mentioned it to me. We used to talk pretty frequently but it’s been a while.”
“When I talked to her last week, she said that she was coming up for the holidays.” He replied nonchalantly. He talked to her last week? Why am I now hearing about this now? What else is he keeping from me?
“Did you tell Tommy any of this?” I asked, already tired from the inquisition.
“No. I’d rather Kate tell him. She was his partner. If I say anything, I look like the paranoid asshole.”
“So why were you lying to me? Why not tell me the truth? I would have understood.”
“Because you wouldn’t have let me go out there and I wasn’t sure what I would find. I didn’t want to tell you and then be totally wrong.” Shane said, rubbing my hand absentmindedly.
I squeezed his hand. “Shane, I would have stopped you because I am scared. Because we need to let it go and let the FBI handle this. Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I think so. I need to go over it with Kate, but I think we have enough for the FBI to pay attention.”
“How did you get so much information from drive-bys? What else were you doing?” I questioned.
Shane sighed. “Listening. It’s amazing what people say when they’re stoned or drunk. People get sloppy.”
Another wave of fear came over me. “Shane, what do you want to happen with this information? What is this going to do to us? Are they going to come after you again? Are we going to be safe?”
Shane gripped my hand and stared into my eyes. “No. This will not blow back on us. I’ve done everything I can to minimize my involvement. Talking with Don and Miguel last night, that’s it. Everything else has been drive-bys, following people, staking out common spots, listening to them talk amongst themselves. No one has seen me. We’re safe.” Worry consumed my heart even as I struggled to trust in Shane’s assurances. How can he be so sure?
Chapter 10
The next couple days were rough. While I wanted to talk to Tommy about the Cartel situation, I respected Shane’s request to stay mum. It was easy to understand why he wanted to keep it close, but at the same time, I also believed that if Tommy knew, he could allay Shane’s fears.
Every time he left the house alone, I wondered if today would be the day the Cartel would find him again. It infuriated me that we were back to looking over our shoulders. Our relationship became strained, to say the least. The thick tension in the house didn’t lead to any more spontaneous lovemaking. And as the pregnancy dragged on, I didn’t have the desire.
But I knew we couldn’t go on like this forever. Christmas was coming and usually the holidays put me in a festive spirit, but this year had a gloomy start. I didn’t want to start the season like a grumpy-Gus so I decided to spice things up a bit. A nice dinner, some candlelight, and maybe some fireworks could heat up our cold spell, I thought as I left work early and headed to the grocery store. O
nce I had all the ingredients I needed for chicken potpie and apple turnovers, I steered my shopping cart toward the checkout line.
“Hello Megan.”
The southern baritone voice stopped me in my tracks. I slowly turned around and lo and behold, there he was. Alex Collins. A year ago, before Shane and I were together and I was lonely and pretending that I wasn’t interested in Shane, I bumped into Alex at Starbucks. We hit it off pretty well, or so I thought. However, I learned that aside from those beautiful gray eyes and a brilliant smile, his charm was as fake as my knock-off Chanel bag. Beneath that caramel colored skin and tight abs was a lying, cheating douche bag. We had a good thing going for about a month or so, until I found that Alex had a wife. A wife he failed to tell me about when he was sticking his tongue down my throat. Bitter – no I’m not bitter. But I do hold a grudge.
I raised an eyebrow and looked over his warm-up pants and hooded sweatshirt with disdain. I hadn’t seen him in almost a year and, boy, time sure does change one’s perception. He didn’t look as gorgeous as I remembered. Probably because I was no longer impressed with his charm or sexy voice. Or maybe it was because he played me for a fool. Who knows; it doesn’t matter anyway. Even though I wanted be a bitch and be the drama queen who caused a huge scene, I knew it wouldn’t be worth it. I’m an adult, a big girl who can handle herself in public situations.
“Hello Alex,” I replied coolly and turned my attention to the items on the conveyor belt in the checkout line.
“You’re looking … uh … well,” he said faltered, gesturing to my increased girth.
“I am doing absolutely amazing, thank you.”
“That’s good to hear.”
