Alarm

by Shay Savage

  “I appreciate you telling me this time.” I relaxed immediately then reached up and stroked his cheek. I was torn between not wanting to get his hopes up and simultaneously not wanting to crush them. I still didn’t know what would happen in the morning.

  I knew I couldn’t be in a relationship with a criminal.

  I looked at his red-rimmed eyes, and my heart went out to him and the long-overdue pain he was experiencing. Could I be friends with him, regardless of everything else? That would put us on a completely different level, but could I do it? Could I remain friends with Aiden once I knew everything, even if I couldn’t reconcile his activities with my own conscience?

  As always, there were too many questions and not enough answers. For now, I would leave it all alone and let him get the rest he needed.

  And with that, I pulled his head to my shoulder and waited for him to sleep.

  SEVENTEEN

  Aiden dropped off almost immediately. I wondered how long it had been since he’d actually slept. I had the impression he’d been right where I had found him for some time and could have been sleeping, leaning up against the wall for all I knew.

  It was only early evening, and despite the plane ride and emotionally exhaustive discussion, I wasn’t tired enough to sleep. Instead, I lay against the pillows and watched Aiden. Even in slumber, he still looked pained.

  As I always did, I questioned my thoughts and feelings as I held him. I was torn between the empathy I felt after learning about the horrible and violent way Aiden had lost his family and the reservations I had about the questions that remained unanswered.

  He turned restlessly, and I moved a little closer to wrap my arm around his waist. He settled with a sigh, and his hand slid around my back and landed on my shoulder blade. I lay my head on his chest and listened to him breathe.

  The need to make a decision, to know what I was going to do when all of this was over, was pressing. Aiden had suffered a terrible loss and would need ongoing support, but I didn’t know if I would be able to provide it.

  As much as I enjoyed my time with Aiden, and as much as I had learned from him, I knew in my heart that I couldn’t support someone who lived his life outside the law. Thrill-seeking within certain parameters was one thing, but I didn’t have it in me to be in a relationship with a criminal.

  You still don’t know everything.

  I feared when I learned the truth, I would have to leave him.

  Yet here I was—back in his bed, back in his arms. I couldn’t take my eyes off the way his skin looked next to the white sheets, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of his hard, muscled body against my flesh. With his arm around me, the feeling of security was undeniable, and I realized how much I had missed him.

  So I spent my evening holding Aiden, watching him sleep, and tracing the line of his bicep with my finger. I examined the tattoos running up and down his right arm, trying to understand the significance of each. I remembered the feeling of his hands on my body and the words he would say to me—both the dirty and the sweet ones—when we were having sex.

  The ceiling fan turned slowly above my head, casting shadows on the walls. The small slits in the blinds over the window let in strips of light, brightening the dark wood of Aiden’s bedroom furniture. It was all so familiar, so normal.

  Aiden stirred, and his eyes fluttered open for a moment. He blinked at me slowly before moving his hand to touch me face.

  “Are you a dream?” he asked quietly.

  “No,” I said with a smile. “I’m here.”

  “She took Cayden and left in the middle of the night,” he said. “I just woke up, and they were gone.”

  I could see it in my head: Aiden waking up to an empty bed, checking his son’s room and looking round the house only to find himself alone.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I promised. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

  He nodded as he tightened his arms around me and closed his eyes again.

  Eventually, I slept.

  When I woke, Aiden was still asleep. Soft rain pattered on the window, and I hoped the sound of it would help him get all the rest he so obviously needed. I untangled myself from his arms and made a quick trip to the bathroom. It was only seven-thirty, so I called my boss and left a voice mail that I was still sick. I returned to the bedroom and climbed in beside Aiden just as he was opening his eyes.

  “You’re still here,” he said, sounding surprised.

  “I told you I would stay.”

  He brought his hand up to my cheek and ran his fingers over my skin. His eyes were still red from yesterday, and his voice sounded scratchy when he spoke.

  “I’m sorry you saw me like that.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” I told him. “Sometimes, you have to let go of it all.”

  “I’ve never fallen apart like that before.”

  “What about when…when you found them?”

  Aiden shook his head slowly.

  “I never cried about it.”

  I considered the implications of what he was saying. How could a father not cry over his child’s death?

  “You didn’t?”

  “No.” He looked at my eyes. “Not even when they buried him. I just…I just kept thinking it was all a nightmare, and I’d wake up and he’d be there, asking me to get his tricycle built for him. I was going to do it that week, but I never had the chance.”

  I knew everyone dealt with grief differently, but crying seemed to be the ultimate outlet of emotions. I’d always been taught that it was important to cry when you felt loss. I didn’t understand how all this time could have passed without Aiden allowing himself to cry.

  “It’s all right to cry, Aiden,” I said.

  “I know,” he responded with a shrug of his shoulder. “I just never did.”

  “Now you have,” I pointed out. “Maybe you needed to.”

  “I guess so.” He yawned. “Right now, I just need coffee.”

  We made breakfast together. The rain stopped as we ate, but it was too wet to sit outside. Aiden moved the boxes off the couch, and we sat in the living room.

  “You want to know the rest?” he asked quietly.

  “I think I need to,” I replied.

  “You do.” Aiden rested his hands in his lap as he gathered himself. “Since that day—the day I found them—I’ve spent my life trying to put it right. When I wasn’t working, I was at the police station, talking to people around town, and doing everything I could to figure out who had done it. I stopped talking to the girl I had recently started dating, stopped going out with friends—I didn’t even go to a movie for the next two years.”

  He turned to me.

  “You’re the first girl I’ve been with since that day,” he said as he looked back at his hands. “I just felt drawn to you, like maybe you were what I needed to keep me going. I was starting to give up hope, and I thought you could…I don’t know…bring me out of it.”

  “I didn’t want to tell you about it,” he continued. “I didn’t want you to know because when someone finds out, they want me to talk about it. They want me to explain, and that’s just…it’s just hard.”

  “You didn’t tell me because it hurts,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “It was nice,” he said, “not to have to talk about it. Even with the guys, it comes up because most of them are trying to do something about it.”

  He glanced at me, and his eyes were dark.

  “I need to make the people responsible for it pay, Chloe. I can’t even consider anything else until that happens.”

  I thought about what that might entail.

  “You can’t go after a drug lord,” I said. “Aiden, that’s not a thrill. That is insane.”

  “I’m not,” Aiden said. “I don’t blame the guy who put the hit out on Jackson. That shithead had done it all to himself, and he deserved what he got. But those who were there—they’re the ones who decided to take it further. They’re t
he ones who decided they had to get rid of the witnesses.”

  “Who are they?” I asked.

  “I’m not telling you the name of the drug guy. You don’t need to know it, and it could put you in danger, but the name of the guy who went after Megan’s boyfriend is Chris Marc. From everything I’ve heard, it wasn’t his first hit, but he had a girlfriend with him—one who was new. Her name is Corinne Hayden. Apparently, she wanted to get in on the business. They’re both out of their minds, kind of like Woody Harrelson and Juliette Lewis in Natural Born Killers. A couple of psychos who think everything they’re doing is fun. She was there with Marc when they went to Jackson’s apartment. She might have done it herself—I don’t know. I don’t know which one of them pulled the trigger.”

  “That’s the couple who were at the restaurant,” I said as the realization hit me. “They are the ones who ran out.”

  Aiden nodded.

  “So why did you go there?” I asked. “Were you going there to…to kill the people who killed Cayden?”

  “No!” Aiden shook his head vehemently. “As much as I want them dead, that’s not what I went there for. Mo got a tip that they were back in town, and we were just going to hold them there until the police arrived. They’re the ones who started shooting, not me.”

  “So, you called the police?” I questioned.

  “Mo did, right after he talked to me.”

  “But they arrested you.”

  “Yeah, because of the gun,” Aiden said. “People at the restaurant were scared, and I can’t blame them for that. I only ended up spending the night in jail. They could tell the gun hadn’t been fired, and my attorney was there first thing in the morning. After everything that happened with Megan and Cayden, I’d had words with most everyone at that police station, so they knew me there.”

  “So, are you out on bail? Do you have to have a trial?”

  “Oh, no,” Aiden said, “nothing like that. I don’t have a prior record or anything. I was arrested for disorderly conduct, but given the circumstances, it was reduced to a city ordinance violation. I paid the fine, and it’s all done.”

  “So you…you’ve never had a record?”

  “A few traffic violations,” Aiden said. He shrugged and grinned. “I like to ride fast.”

  I didn’t know what to say. All the assumptions I had made, all the things I had assumed were Aiden’s transgressions—I was completely wrong. I hadn’t seen Aiden for the man he was. Instead, I had judged without ever giving him a chance to explain.

  “But…but your job…” I stammered.

  “What about it?”

  “Pharmaceutical sales?”

  “Yeah,” Aiden said. He narrowed his eyes a bit. “I go around to doctors’ offices and sell drugs for a pharmaceutical company, mostly generics as the brand-names become available. It’s not a great moneymaker, but I get to set my own hours. Better than what I used to do.”

  “What was that?”

  “Shoe sales,” he said with a laugh.

  “Why…why were you so dodgy about it?” I demanded.

  “Uh, well…” Aiden said as he scratched the back of his head, “the whole idea was to bring you here for a little excitement. What could be more boring than going around to doctors’ offices hoping they’ll take a few samples?”

  I was completely flabbergasted.

  “Wait—what about this house? You can’t make enough to afford this place.”

  “Oh, well, like I said—I came into some money.”

  “What money?”

  Aiden took a long breath.

  “When Cayden was born, Megan and I hired an attorney to draw up wills for us. Neither of us had a lot to do with our families, and we wanted to make sure Cayden was taken care of if something happened to us, you know?”

  I nodded.

  “It was all very simple—if I died, she got everything of mine, and if she died, I got everything of hers. If we both died, Cayden was going to be raised by Megan’s aunt in Tampa, and everything would go into a fund for him until he was eighteen.”

  “We had some life insurance,” Aiden continued in a quiet voice. “That was just enough to bury them both. What I didn’t know was that Megan’s aunt had passed away about two months before…before everything else. She left Megan everything, and Megan hadn’t changed the will. I’m not sure Megan even knew her aunt was gone. I ended up with it all—an estate worth about two million.”

  “Wow.” It was the only word I could manage.

  “I honestly didn’t want it, but Megan didn’t have any other family that I knew of, and there wasn’t anyone coming out of the woodwork and demanding a cut. After about a year, my lawyer called and told me it was all mine. I used most of the money to buy this place and the jeep. I invested the rest.”

  Everything fell into place, and it all made sense.

  “Aiden, I’m so sorry.”

  “What are you sorry about?”

  “I never gave you a chance to explain,” I said. “I just made all kinds of assumptions about you and what was going on.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up, and his eyes twinkled at me.

  “You thought I was a drug dealer, didn’t you?”

  I blushed, and Aiden shook his head.

  “I ought to be pissed off about that,” he said. “Before they got to know me, a lot of the cops around here thought I had to be a bad guy because of the tats. They thought I had to be a lunkhead because I did all the bodybuilding shit. They tried to sweep the murders under the rug, figuring I wouldn’t pursue it out of fear that they’d find out I was also mixed up in that shit.”

  He gritted his teeth.

  “If they had moved sooner, they might have gotten to Marc and Hayden before they left the state. They didn’t listen to me for the longest time, even when I had evidence that they were in Ohio. I hired my own private investigator up there to find them. He finally made progress about a month ago.”

  “That’s who you were talking to in the bar the night I met you.” I remembered the man in the blazer who had been sitting across from Aiden.

  “It was,” he confirmed. “He had turned over all the surveillance information to the police down here, and they said it wasn’t enough to go on.”

  “Why were you angry with him?”

  “Because he said he couldn’t get the cops to do anything with it.” Aiden sighed. “We got together the next day for a conference call with them, and it was basically worked out. What I didn’t know was that Marc and Hayden were on to me. They knew I had found them, and they headed back down here.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Best guess, they thought the guy who hired them to kill Jackson would protect them. He won’t, though.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because he’s the one who gave me their names,” Aiden said. “I may not be involved in crime, but that doesn’t mean I’m ignorant as to who is. Mo and Lo have their contacts –a lot of them. You can’t be in the security business without knowing who the lowlifes in the area are. They knew exactly what was going on after making a few phone calls.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” It did, too. In fact, everything was falling into place. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

  “Only that they ran,” Aiden said. “The police are searching for them. The security cameras at the strip mall caught the car and license plate, but it was a stolen vehicle. They might still be in it, though. It hasn’t turned up anywhere.”

  “What happens if the police find them?”

  “They’ve got arrest warrants outstanding,” Aiden said. “Aside from car theft, Chris Marc is wanted for robbery up in Orlando as well as suspicion of homicide on another count as well. If they’re caught, they’re going to go to prison. I hope they get the fucking chair.”

  Aiden looked exhausted, and I decided he needed a break from all of this. He went to take a shower while I cleaned up in the kitchen and sorted through all the new information in my head
. More than anything, I felt guilty for all my critical theories about Aiden’s life. I had been afraid to ask questions, and my hypotheses had been completely wrong.

  Aiden came out of the bathroom, his beard neatly trimmed, and he was dressed in his usual shorts and muscle shirt. I looked down his body slowly before moving back to his eyes, only to find he had an eyebrow raised at me.

  Caught ogling, I blushed. I wasn’t ready for the heart-pounding feelings I had when I was in his presence and needed to get myself back on track. We still had important things to discuss. I looked down at my hands for a moment, twisting my fingers around as I got my thoughts in order.

  “Aiden,” I said, “I owe you an apology.”

  “You aren’t the first person to think that I was the bad guy,” he said, his voice sounding sad. He picked up his red cap and ran his finger over the edge of it before he placed it on his head. “My mother started telling me that right after the first tat. She said I looked like a gang member and would never get a decent job.”

  “I don’t care if I was the first or not,” I insisted. “I still made the assumption, and I’m sorry for that. I…I should have asked. I should have made you tell me all this before. Maybe then, I wouldn’t have run away. I wouldn’t have refused your calls.”

  Aiden swallowed visibly.

  “That hurt,” he admitted quietly. “I really thought you…that maybe you could be the one who understood. I thought you didn’t have those kinds of notions about me. I thought you had seen me for who I was.”

  I walked over and took his hand before leading him back to the couch so we could sit more comfortably, and I laid my hand on top of his.

  “I did see you, Aiden,” I said. “I just let my own fears get the better of me, and I’m sorry for that. I really am.”

  He turned his hand over and locked our fingers together.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come clean earlier. I could tell you had your reservations, but I didn’t want to have to live through it all again. I didn’t want to explain what was happening, and it drove you away.”

  “I’m here now,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah,” he said with a smile, “you are.”