by Skye Warren
“Still,” I said. “I wouldn’t pick a fight with the guy, if I were you.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m still recovering.” He touched the corner of his eye.
Now that I looked—yes, there were some shadows there, maybe even discoloration. “He hit you?”
“Just once, and it was way less than I deserved,” he said. Hadn’t Colin promised not to hurt him? Or had that just been me? Either way I couldn’t be too hard on him for showing restraint. In the wilds of the Chicago underground, a black eye was more a warning shot than punishment. I couldn’t deny that a very small sense of satisfaction welled inside me. As he said, it was the least Andrew deserved, but all he would get.
“We make quite a pair.” Both bruised by Colin but loving him anyway. That last part was probably just me.
“I always thought it would be me and you, in the end.” He sighed. “Tell me about her.”
Bailey. The longing in his eyes pierced me, but I shook my head. “It will only make it real, and it can’t work like that.”
I expected the questions—why not?—or for the demands to start, but he looked as solemn as I’d ever seen him. And despite the conflict that warred in his eyes, he said, “I know.”
My heart leaped in hope. “So you’ll leave us alone?”
A wry smile, then, “You charmer, you.” He grew serious. “Yes, I’ll leave you alone. I stayed away because I couldn’t trust myself around you. I didn’t want to hurt you again. But I think I also didn’t want to see you suffering. I told myself you could pretend it was bad sex and move on. I didn’t know about…her. I wouldn’t have left you to deal with it alone.”
“We did okay,” I said, thinking it was probably true. “And I had Shelly.”
“She had a few words for me when I called her. Between her and him, you’ve got a nice little army at your back.”
A slow smile spread on my face. It was a nice thought, anyway.
“I just wish I’d been one of them,” he said. “You have to call me if you need something, though. If things don’t work out with what’s his face.”
“Colin.”
“Whatever,” he said. “Promise me.”
“Maybe.”
“Good. I’m only on leave, but if you need me, call the base.” He pulled a thick envelope from his pocket and slid it across the table. “That was my retainer for the lawyer. It’s yours. And I’d like to send more if you’ll let me.”
I recoiled at the pile of money in front of me. I didn’t want his money, but this was for Bailey. It could pay for things she needed, and I was supposed to be a grown-up. “Okay.”
He eyed me curiously. “I’m surprised he let you off his leash enough to see me. He was very close-lipped about where you were.”
I feigned interest in the pie. Colin would be beyond pissed.
“Ah, he doesn’t know.” He tapped the table, then rubbed his fingers together. “What the fuck is on this table? Whatever. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll sign those papers he gave me, giving up any paternal rights that might now, or forever in the future, be established against one Bailey Allison Winters, and send them to him. We don’t have to mention this meeting.”
“You’d do that for me?” I asked.
“Anything,” he said.
Shelly had once said that to me too—anything. Maybe Andrew was part of my army, after all. An unexpected ally.
“Thank you,” I told him and meant it. His debt to me wasn’t so great that I couldn’t still feel gratitude.
He dropped a twenty on the table and walked away, murmuring. “Bye, Alice.”
The nickname stung. He used to call me that, back when we were kids. Alice in Wonderland, he’d say. I’d protest, because she was dumb and I wasn’t. He’d proved me right, of course. I just hadn’t known the only mirror I’d fall into would be him.
I tucked the money he’d given me in my purse and left the diner, vowing not to go out to eat again for a year. It was a nice gift he’d given me, letting Bailey and me walk away. Or rather, doing the walking away himself. Sure, it’d been a problem that he’d started, first by that and second by coming in and threatening me, but I could still appreciate what it meant for him to sign those papers. Or maybe I was just a sentimental dumbass.
I drove home, struggling to tamp down my elation. No need to tempt fate by getting hopeful.
“Colin called while you were out,” Shelly said as soon as I walked through the back door.
“Hey, baby girl,” I said to Bailey, picking her up and nuzzling her tummy. Then to Shelly, “Damn, what did you say?”
She looked apologetic. “I said you were out jogging.”
I shot her an exasperated glance as I dislodged Bailey’s fist from my hair. “I don’t jog.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It was all I could think of.”
I still hadn’t been sure I would keep my visit with Andrew from Colin, but this would make telling the truth more awkward. Still, my worry over Colin couldn’t conceal my thrill over the result.
“So tell me what happened,” she said.
My voice muffled from beneath Bailey’s clinging arms, I said, “It’s over. He said he’s going to sign away his parental rights and leave us alone.”
“Just like that?”
“Yep,” I said.
She collapsed on the other end of the sofa, still managing to do it with grace. After a moment she said, “Then you didn’t really need Colin.”
Hell, I hadn’t even thought of that, but it wasn’t true. He provided financial support, physical protection, and stability. He cared for me and, I thought, even for Bailey, rounding out our little family. And, though it now seemed a small thing in light of his contributions, “He got the lawyer who’s doing the custody paperwork.”
She seemed to hear what I’d left unsaid, though, because she weighed it thoughtfully. “Will you stay here?”
“I want to.”
She nodded. “I’ll go now, but I think I’ll be seeing you soon.” With that cryptic note and a wink, she went out the back.
Left holding a wriggly Bailey, I laughed aloud at Andrew’s assessment of Shelly as my soldier. She may help me—a lot—but I had no illusions that she took orders from me.
Chapter Ten
Bailey was fed and—hallelujah—sleeping. I was halfway asleep too, but this laundry wouldn’t fold itself. It was a load of linens, though. No Colin underwear tonight. I stifled the urge to giggle. It really was getting late.
A soft scratching came from the front door. I tensed. More shuffling. The break-in at my apartment flashed through my mind. Worse things than random junkie burglars lurked as well. It could be something mixed up with Philip’s business. Plus, threats could come with badges and warrants.
I tiptoed over to the window and peeked around the side. I had a clear view of the front of the door. Nothing.
That was worse.
This was the part in the scary movie where the girl did something stupid while the audience groaned. She would open the door and let the bad guy in. No, she’d open the door, and it would turn out the bad guy was already in the house. Shit, I was scaring myself. I could suddenly understand her compulsion to find out. Knowing had to be better than sitting here pissing myself.
I opened the door a crack—chain firmly in place—and the orange cat squeezed through the gap and into the house.
I sighed in relief. “Stupid cat.”
The cat leaped onto the coffee table and curled up amid the stacks of sheets and towels.
“Make yourself at home,” I said, but cats don’t care about sarcasm, and I didn’t have the heart to throw him out. This night was dark and scary. Or at least lonely.
“If you shit on the towels,” I told him, “I will turn you into a shag rug.” He seemed unconcerned. I took this to mean he was potty trained.
Headlights swerving against the wall and a low rumble told me Colin was home. He unlocked the back door and then was in front of me. “Sorry I’m late.”
He ran his thumb across my lips. “Pretty girl.”
“Are you…drunk?”
He shook his head slowly. “A little bit.”
“You shouldn’t drive like this.” I didn’t want to nag, but it was only the truth. I wrapped my arms around his waist.
He pulled me close and rested his face in my hair. He smelled like smoke. “I like you.”
Wow, he really shouldn’t have driven. Clearly it would do no good to talk about it now. “Come on,” I said. “To bed with you.”
His arms tightened. Seemed no one was much for sleep in this household.
“You’ll feel better in the morning,” I said.
“Feel good now.” His voice was muffled in my hair.
“That was a lie anyway,” I said. “You’ll feel worse in the morning, but you still have to sleep.”
I pulled back, and this time he let me go. Leading him by the hand, we went upstairs. I pushed him into the bathroom and shut the door, then listened until I heard the water running before changing into a nightshirt.
Ten minutes passed, and I debated knocking when he opened the door. Completely naked.
Though—and I double-checked—not aroused. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him that way, except for right after sex. And even then it was more of a half-mast situation. It was oddly deflating to my ego, even though I knew it was most likely whiskey dick.
“Well,” I said.
But it wasn’t the time for talking or for turning off the bathroom light, because he grabbed my hand as he walked by me, dragged me into bed with him, and wrapped his arms and legs around me like a Colin-shaped straitjacket.
Okay. I guess I was going to sleep.
“Good night,” I said.
“Don’t want to hurt you,” he mumbled. Then nothing.
No, he didn’t want to. I was the one doing any hurting here, even if the one in pain was me.
I hadn’t told him about Andrew, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so. I should just let it go, I knew. I had been given a free pass by Andrew not to tell Colin, and that should be good enough.
In fact, his arms, which had once been snug, now felt stifling. A literal weight of guilt.
Even if I were to tell him, I should wait until morning when he was awake. In fact, I should wait until tomorrow afternoon when his hangover had passed, but I had a feeling that if I didn’t tell him now, I never would. I’d ruined many good things in my youth and stupidity—often one and the same—but I desperately wanted to make this work.
“Colin.” I nudged him.
A quiet snore emerged. Silly man.
I pushed harder. “Colin!”
“What’s it?” he mumbled, without opening his eyes.
“I have good news,” I said. That was preframing, something I’d learned in one of the books from the library about parenting toddlers.
No response.
“I talked to Andrew,” I whispered, “and he’s going to sign the papers.”
“No,” he said, startlingly clear. “It’s a trap.”
And then as far as I could tell, he slept on. It took me a long time to fall asleep after that.
Chapter Eleven
When I woke up, a note was on Colin’s pillow. In bold, block letters: Call me.
So he was as terse in writing as he was in speech. He’d never left this early, but if he’d received a call, I had a suspicion I knew what it was about. I dialed his cell number—he answered on the first ring.
“Good news,” he said.
Shit. He didn’t remember my confession from the night before. What to do? I opened my mouth to interrupt, to tell him the truth.
“Andrew’s taken care of,” he said. “I’m with Laramie now.”
The words caught in my throat. Over the phone and with Colin sitting in his brother’s house most likely, was not the time or place to tell him, but I had to say something. I pushed past the panic lodged in my throat. “Oh,” I said, my voice hoarse. “That’s good.”
A short pause. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice breaking on my agreement.
“I’ll be home soon. We’ll celebrate.” He hung up.
Oh God, he was so horribly perfect. All concerned for my state of mind and trying to reassure me. Dealing with my shit, and for what? I couldn’t even have sex right. I would’ve thought two years was enough time to heal, but it was abundantly clear that I wasn’t okay. I was as messed up as ever, and worse, it was infecting Colin.
If he were just a little less wonderful, then my brokenness wouldn’t seem so bad. As it was, we fit together like a diamond in the gutter. On the outside we were well matched, but on the inside he was slumming with me. What would happen when he realized it? I’d be alone again, and Bailey would be back in that shit-poor apartment. At least the problem with Andrew had been resolved, I was thankful for that, but I didn’t want to go back to the way things were.
I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t.
I’d glimpsed happiness here. I might not deserve it, but Bailey did.
No, I wouldn’t even put this on her. I wanted this for myself. Living all ghetto had one major benefit—it had molded me this way. Ruthless.
From somewhere deep inside I dredged up the will to fight. A low-down, dirty street fight between me and, well, the other me. The stupid one who lied and fucked and hurt but had no business in Colin’s life. Her death was a worthy sacrifice so that Bailey and Colin and I could be a family.
And when Colin came home, offering a bouquet of daisies, I accepted them as my right. I thanked him as was appropriate. And I kissed him as I really wanted to—hard and deep.
It almost felt real. Maybe it was.
I felt fidgety, bursty, like I might explode but laugh right on through it. Was this happiness?
I wanted to jump Colin, though that feeling wasn’t new. But I didn’t want him to hurt me. I didn’t want him to hold me down or berate me. I wanted him to touch me, hold me, love me. I wanted to hear his voice again telling me everything would be okay. And, because happiness made me horny, I wanted his tongue on my clit. Pretty, pretty please.
But life intruded. I had Bailey, and that meant no midday sex romps.
“Let’s go out,” Colin murmured.
“Okay.” Think, think. Where did people go? None of our usual haunts—the library, the city park, the local playground—seemed adequate for this day when Colin would spend the day with us. A day of celebration.
And then it came to me—the zoo! We’d gone there once, but it had been so crowded and Bailey so young. A family thing, a real outing.
“What do you think of the zoo?” I asked Colin, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice in case he hated it.
“The zoo.” He nodded.
Bailey had been crawling figure eights around our feet, but now she stopped to look up. “Baba?” she asked.
Colin knelt down where he stood. Bailey pulled herself up by his knee to a stand.
“Want to go to the zoo?” he asked her.
She tapped his knee.
“She probably doesn’t know what that means,” I said.
“Giraffes,” he said. “Elephants.”
“Elphhhhhh,” Bailey said, spraying baby drool into his face.
“Oh!” I grabbed a nearby cloth and wiped him dry. “I’m sorry. I think she’s getting a tooth.”
He looked alarmed.
“Makes her drooly,” I said. “Plus the ‘phhh’ sound.”
“Ah,” he said. He didn’t sound too upset about the baby bath, for which I was thankful.
“Would it be at all possible for you to hang out with her while I get ready?”
At Colin’s nod, I hurried into the kitchen. Packing her bag for a long outing like this would take a while. I needed food and drinks and diapers and wipes and a change of clothes. Oh, and the camera. Crap, was it cha
rged? Had I even unpacked it?
On a whim, I raced up the stairs to get Bailey’s animal flash cards. I handed them to Colin and said, out of breath, “You could show her these if you want.”
Then I was gone, loading the stroller and diaper bag into the car. And I was done. Bravo to me. Already feeling worn-out, I found Colin and Bailey on the living room floor where I’d left them.
“Phant,” Colin said. “El-e-phant.”
“Phhhhhhhhh,” Bailey said. Prepared this time, Colin blocked her easily with a cloth to catch the spray. She giggled.
“Phhhant,” he said.
“Phhhhhooey,” she said, then broke into peals of laughter when he wiped his hand.
“She’s playing you,” I said from the doorway.
He glanced back at me and winked. “I’m a sucker for that laugh.”
Ah, shit.
Stick a fork in me, I was done. Completely, positively, irrevocably in love with him. That too-full feeling closed in on my heart, and my eyes pricked. I turned to face the coat closet just to catch my breath. Oh God, I wanted to keep him.
Bundled and packed, we set off on our zoo adventure. Or as Bailey called it, the “phoooo” with a sprayed exclamation point. I would not be sad when she learned a new sound.
The Lincoln Park Zoo was packed with families. Today was one of the first days of the year that we could spend time outdoors without freezing our fingers off. We wandered over to the lions—“Kitty!”—and then to the seal enclosure. The seals did tricks: clapping, diving, and barking, but there were too many people lined up against the railing to see.
“Up,” Bailey demanded, tugging on a lock of my hair.
“No.” I shook my head.
Colin looked at me in question.
“She wants to sit on my shoulders,” I explained. “I tried that only once. It was the Fourth of July, and she was wrapped around me like a cobra”—I mimed a choking motion with my free hand—“and then a BOOM went off”—I mimicked the struggle—“and, well, never again.”
“I can try,” he said.
I looked at him dubiously. Not that the guy wasn’t tough, but he’d never seen her go full turbo. As if sensing her impending triumph, Bailey wriggled furiously.
