Redemptive (Combative, #2)(12)



“There’s more. He’s taken his opinions to Benny. Benny wants to talk to you.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. That’s not all, though. Think about it. You let everyone believe that you’d take care of it. Regardless of the circumstances, she killed someone the men consider family. They find out she’s still breathing, and there’s going to be a bounty on your head. A much higher one.”

I’d sat back in my seat, my head spinning with every verbal blow he had just delivered. “Jesus f*ckin’ Christ.”

“They see her out there, she’s dead, and you—you’ll have a lot more to deal with than just an innocent girl living under your roof.”

“So she has to die?”

“No,” he’d said quickly. “That’s the last thing we both want.” He’d paused for a beat as if gathering his thoughts. “We just need to be smart about it, that’s all.”

“I don’t know what’s easier right now.”

Tiny had glanced up at me from the laptop he’d just opened. “Do you want the easy way? Or the right way? Your call.”

*

Tiny and I spent a good hour discussing our game plan before he left for the hardware store. He re-coded the home security for the silent alarm to initiate when the external doors opened, rather than if it sensed movement in the house. As much as I hated having to do what we were doing—we had to find a way to permanently keep the windows shut so Bailey couldn’t escape. It wasn’t just her life on the line anymore, it was mine too, and I had to find a way to make her understand that.

I knocked on the guest bedroom door and waited.

There was shuffling at her end before the handle moved and the door opened, just enough for her to peek out.

“Can we talk?” I asked.

She nodded and opened the door wider, then took a seat on the edge of the bed.

I sat down next to her. “How’s your hand?”

“Sore.”

“We’ll get some ice on it in a bit.”

“Okay.”

We sat in silence while my mind tried to form words.

“Whatever you need to tell me. I can handle it,” she said.

I turned to her, but her eyes were downcast, watching her bare feet swinging back and forth. I hadn’t wanted to admit it before, and I’d never admit it out loud, but even through the cuts and the bruises, she was stupidly beautiful. How the hell she found herself in last night’s situation, I had no idea. “PJ took pictures of you while it was happening. He’s sent the pictures to everyone.”

Her brow pinched as she faced me, pinning me with her glare.

With a nervous swallow, I continued, “He’s doing it because he suspects the truth… that I didn’t follow through on my promise.” I sighed. “Things are tricky now. You and I—we’re kind of in the same boat. They want you dead, and they can make it happen. And if they find out I didn’t… well, the same can happen to me.”

She exhaled a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Nate, I didn’t mean…”

“Don’t be sorry,” I told her, ignoring the flip of my stomach when she said my name.

“It’s my fault.”

“Don’t say that.” My hand twitched, itching to touch her, to hold her, to do something to take away the fear in her eyes—eyes that I got lost in every time I looked into them. I stood up and started to pace. “I’m telling you because Tiny and me—we need to take certain precautions for your safety. Which means keeping you here.”

“For how long?” she whispered.

“Until things die down a little. Until it all blows over and people forget about it. When it’s safe, I’ll let you go, but you can’t stay around here.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“You said something about no one looking for you? How’s that possible?”

“I’m homeless, Nate. I don’t have parents or siblings, and I made sure not to make any friends. Until last night, I guess. So no. There’s no one. At least that’s one less thing you have to worry about, right?” She seemed to move closer somehow, closer than the walls caving in on me.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Nearly eighteen, I think.”

“And how long have you been homeless?”

“Since I was fifteen.” She sat up straighter. “Nate?”

“Yeah?” I answered, unable to look at her.

“Whatever needs to be done, I’ll do it. I don’t want you getting hurt. Not over me. Thank you for everything.”

*

Tiny returned with the materials we needed to screw shut the windows. He must’ve thought a lot about the plan because he removed the aerial cable from the TV and disconnected the antenna from the stereo. “It’s better she not know any of what’s going on outside these walls, just in case she gets ideas or gets spooked. News reports can f*ck people up.”

I nodded and looked over at her closed bedroom door.

“Did you speak to her?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“What did she say?”

“Thank you.”

“She’s something else.”

No shit, I thought. “Any information released about last night?”

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