Redemptive (Combative, #2)(10)
The girl nodded but kept her gaze lowered.
Tiny helped her out of the car and led her to my house. With each step closer to my door, my pulse quickened. By the time we got there, my head was spinning, and my heart was on the verge of exploding through my chest.
My fingers shook as I lifted my key, trying in vain to unlock it. Tiny—he must have sensed my struggle, because his hand covered mine and he muttered, “I got you, Boss.” I was grateful he was there, that he could somehow see the sense in whatever the f*ck it was we were doing.
The girl just stood there, completely silent. When Tiny swung the door open, I placed my hand on the small of her back, guiding her through.
After disarming the security alarm, I walked to the kitchen and switched on the lights. I needed a drink, something to take the edge off.
Tiny grasped the girl by her elbow and followed behind me.
I reached up to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, and without bothering to get a glass, I took a long, well-earned swig.
The girl’s eyes fixed on mine. She stared at me so intently, for so long, that I had to look away. After taking another swallow, I offered her the bottle. “No, thank you,” she said.
I nodded and was about to replace the cap when I saw her move from the corner of my eye. She was rubbing her wrist, red raw from the tape Tiny had used. She unzipped her sweatshirt, revealing a worn white T-shirt with large holes in a few places. But that’s not what stood out. It was the amount of blood that had seeped through. She attempted to speak, forcing me to look up at her bloodstained face.
“What?” I asked, but it came out harsher than intended. I tried to settle my pulse, tried to calm my breathing, tried to put some perspective into the situation. “What did you want to say?” I asked, my tone calmer.
She shook her head.
I looked up at Tiny, but he was looking down at her. After a moment, he let out a sigh. “What’s your name?” he asked her.
And for some reason, it pissed me off. Maybe because he was the one in control when it had always been me. He, at least, could speak, while all I could do was stare at her.
“B-Bailey.”
Tiny threw out his hand. “I’m Tiny.”
Her hand trembled as she accepted his offered one.
He smiled warmly or, at least, attempted to. “Are you hungry?”
She shook her head.
“Thirsty?”
Another head shake.
“Shower?” he asked her.
Her eyes widened slightly, then she faced me. “Would that be okay?”
I took another drink, my eyes never leaving hers. Then I walked between them, past the living room and down the hallway toward my room. After finding her a change of clothes, I made my way to the guest bathroom and ran the shower, letting the steam fill the room before stepping just outside the door. “All yours,” I told her.
Slowly, she walked over, stopping only inches in front of me. Then, looking me right in the eyes, she ruined me again. “Thank you.”
*
Tiny moved in his seat opposite me at the kitchen table. We’d sat in silence up until the point he said, “This is bad news, Boss.”
I laughed once. I couldn’t help it. “No shit.”
“What are you going to do?”
Shaking my head, I leaned back in my seat. “I have no f*ckin’ idea.”
“You should say something to her.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged, his fat gut moving with it. “I don’t know, but it’s not helping you just staring at her the way you are.”
The pipes clanked when her shower ended.
Tiny added, “Just talk to her. Tell her she’s safe.”
I raised an eyebrow. “For now?”
“Better than her not knowing anything at all. She probably thinks you’re going to off her in her sleep.”
Sighing, I stood up quickly, the chair beneath me tipping back from the force of it. “Fine.”
The second I knocked, the bathroom door opened, and she was there—wearing a pair of my boxers and one of my long-sleeved gray shirts. Her hair was wet, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. But she was clean. No more blood. The bruising on her cheek had darkened since I’d first seen it, and the cut on her chin and bottom lip had closed up.
She dipped her head, her brown hair forming a curtain around her face. I struggled to breathe, struggled to speak. Then I felt Tiny next to me, his shoulder bumping mine and I finally found my voice. “Bailey?”
Her eyes snapped up, and I could see the fear behind them. I took a step closer, and when she tried to step away, the back of her leg hit the edge of the tub.
“I won’t hurt you,” I said. “You’re safe. It’s over.”
Only it wasn’t over.
It hadn’t even begun.
8
Nate
The ringing of my phone startled me awake. I opened one eye first, then the other. Then I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed it; Tiny’s number flashed on the screen. “What?”
“I’m outside.”
“Use your key.”
A moment later, the door opened, and he stepped inside. “We have a problem, Boss.”
Bailey
After Tiny had left last night, Nate showed me to, what I assume was, a guest bedroom and told me he’d be in the next room if I needed anything. There was nothing but a bed pushed up against the corner and a single nightstand with a lamp, and a tiny dresser, but it was more than I’d expected. And even though it was more than I’d been used to, I still found it impossible to sleep. Every sound, every creak of the floorboards, had me jumping out of my skin, and so when I heard voices in the kitchen, most likely Tiny and Nate’s, I was almost relieved.