Redemptive (Combative, #2)(34)



“I guess some things are greater than the fears we hold on to.”





21




Nate


Boom! My eyes snapped open at the sound and I sat up and came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

In my arms, Bailey screamed.

I tried to focus my vision and settle my pulse, just long enough for me to gather my thoughts. The man stood above us, gun pointed, black ski mask in place, and when Bailey screamed again, I brought her closer to me and mumbled, “Put the f*ckin’ gun down.”

Tiny lowered his weapon and removed the mask, his eyes narrowed. “Do you know how f*ckin’ easy it was for me to come down here? You hadn’t even closed the basement door.”

“You have a key, Tiny!”

“That’s not the f*ckin’ point. Where’s your gun, Nate? Or your phone? I called it for five minutes before I let myself in. You always have your phone. You always answer. I come in and find you in here? Both your lives are in danger, and this is your solution. To screw—”

I grabbed his gun, faster than he expected, and turned the tables on him. “Keep talkin’ and I’ll blow the caps off your knees. Get the f*ck out.”

“Nate,” Bailey whispered. “He’s just doing his job.”

Tiny raised his eyebrows. “And what are you doing, Bailey? Earning your keep?”

Blood rushed to my ears, the anger boiling out of me. I jumped to my feet and shoved Tiny until his back hit a wall. “You’re pushin’ it.”

“And you’ve lost your f*ckin’ mind.”

Bailey’s hand settled on my shoulder, attempting to pull me away. “He’s right, Nate.”

Tiny’s eyes bored into mine. “Listen to your—”

I pressed the gun against his chest, cutting him off.

Slowly, he wrapped his hands around his weapon, lowering it and taking it from me. He used the gun to tap my temple twice. “Start thinkin’ with your head.”

*

“You can’t be mad at him,” Bailey said, watching me shave in the tiny basement bathroom.

“I can be whatever I want,” I murmured, annoyed she was on his side. He had no f*ckin’ right to do what he did or speak to us the way he had.

“But you told me it was his job to protect you and that he was good at it. He did his job, Nate.”

“So you’re okay with waking up to a gun pointed at you?”

“I’m not okay with guns at all, and you should know that…”

I kissed her quickly. “I’ll be back before dinner.”

She grasped my hand, stopping me from walking away. “Nate…”

“Leave it alone, Bai. It’s not your burden. It’s mine. I’ll handle Tiny. You just worry about getting through the day without breaking shit.”

*

“The next time you feel like making a point, do it without a gun,” I told Tiny once we were in his car.

“Are you sleeping with her?”

“It’s none of your f*ckin’ business.”

He raised his voice. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“Maybe I’ve been too easy on you that you’ve forgotten who the f*ck it is you work for.”

“I’ve given my life to this, Nate. You know I’d take a f*ckin’ bullet for you. I’ve never questioned a damn decision you’ve ever made. And don’t act as if you don’t know that, or know me.”

Fuck. He was right, and I knew it. “I’m not sleeping with her,” I said, settling back in my seat.

“But you want to be?”

“I don’t know what we’re doing.”

“Are you… I mean do you have feelings for her?”

“Of course I do.”

He sighed.

“What?”

“Just be careful.”

“What would you know?”

“Nothin’,” he said quickly. Too quickly. Which meant that he wanted to say more.

“Just say whatever’s on your mind.”

“You won’t want to hear it.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

He pulled over on the side of the road and turned to me, but didn’t speak right away.

I raised my eyebrows and waited.

“All I’m saying is that she’s young. She’s vulnerable, and she seems pretty naive. From the outside looking in, there are two ways this can go. First,” he said, counting off on his fingers, “she’s going to sleep with you because she thinks it’s her ticket out of this mess. Or, secondly, she’s going to develop feelings for you—feelings that you’ll always question.”

I gave him my full attention. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… would she have those feelings if you weren’t the only thing in her life that felt safe? Would you still like her if she wasn’t—I don’t know how to put it without sounding like an *—easily accessible?”

I stayed quiet, letting his words sink in.

“And that’s just the immediate situation, Nate. What happens in the future? When all this blows over, and it’s time to free her. Or what happens when she gets sick of being locked up and starts to hate you for putting her there in the first place, because you know that’ll happen. You saw how she was last night. It’s inevitable.”

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