Giving It Up (19 page)

My head was blissfully empty as I drove into that crappy part of town.

The diner was the same, still dirty but somehow smaller. I sat down in a creaky vinyl booth. The lamination was peeling off the tabletop. I rested my hands there, but it was sticky to the touch, so I put them in my lap.

The worst part of waiting was the thinking. What would I tell Jacob? It depended on his mood. He’d become increasingly capricious, up until
that
day—the emotional equivalent of an atomic bomb. It wasn’t personal; at least, I thought not. I just happened to be in the vicinity at the time—a casualty.

Thinking, thinking. I heard Shelly’s voice,
What happened with that cop?

Then again in her voice,
Don’t think about it.

I was trying, dammit. I really was.

But the alternative was to contemplate this sticky stuff on the table. No, seriously—what was it? I prayed it was some sort of food product, at least. Ugh, I couldn’t keep thinking about it. I reached for the menu the server had dropped off. I was hardly in the mood for eating. I’d already eaten lunch, and plus it was pretty gross in here. But, well, I was desperate.

I ordered chocolate pie. It took about ten minutes, and then the server reappeared with a slice of pie and a glass of water. I cut a small bite from the corner and tasted it. It was good. A bit too sweet. Oh, yuck. A kind of clay aftertaste. I took a gulp to wash it down—metallic water.

I coughed and sputtered. Jacob chose that moment to appear. I clapped my hand over my mouth as he folded his long body into the booth across from me.

“Not as good as you remember it?” He smirked.

I pushed the plate away and shuddered. “I don’t know how I ever ate that.”

He eyed the slice of pie. “We had a strict fries-only rule, if I remember right. And always order pop.”

Our eyes met. “Don’t drink the water,” we said at the same time. We smiled.

How strange, this camaraderie. Perhaps it had something to do with the location. We’d been friends here, so it was easy to fall into that role now.

We both stilled.

This wasn’t the paralyzing panic of our last meeting, after two years of snowballing fear and apprehension. For all I’d known at the time, he could have raped me where I stood. Of course, he’d done worse. He’d threatened to take Bailey from me.

Even as I marveled at my ease, cold fingers of remembrance clenched my insides. No, this grimy diner had been only a very temporary sort of amnesia. Memories assaulted my calm: flashes of pain, the blue eyes flashing darkly, almost too black.

“I missed you,” Jacob said softly.

I’d missed him too. My friend, Jacob, I’d missed. The guy he’d turned into that last night, not so much. In the past two years he’d filled out from a lanky teenager, but he was still lean. Probably would always be. I’d filled out too. From skinny girl to pregnant to young woman.

Jacob looked down. “I guess I fucked up pretty bad.”

It was both an understatement and stunningly accurate. It also stoppered any recriminations I might have thought to serve him. He knew what he’d done, and he knew it was wrong. What was the point of an accusation, when he’d already accepted the verdict? But there was one thing I wanted to know. “Why, Jacob?”

Remorse was in his eyes when he glanced up at me, but also confusion. He shook his head as he spoke, as if to negate his words. “I never would have thought… It wasn’t planned. I went a little crazy, I guess. More than a little.”

That was the rub of it. There was no magic answer.

He wasn’t the stereotypical rapist. He wasn’t a mean person. He wasn’t one of the guys I picked up at the bar. If he’d passed out from the alcohol that night, or if I’d left early, or if so many things, then it might never have happened. Our lives would have been so different, never knowing how close we’d come to breaking.

And I knew all about doing things that were out of character, that went against our ideals, that hurt people. I’d done it once a month, and I’d done it last night. I didn’t even have the luxury of them being spur-of-the-moment. Mine were so deliberate.

“Where have you been?” I asked, because it seemed like the thing to say. And maybe I was curious.

“Marines.” He grinned, and little-boy Jacob peeked out at me. “You didn’t think I could do it.”

“Did they kick your ass?”

He made a solemn face, but his eyes still twinkled. “Absolutely.”

Idiot. “Good.”

“What about you?”
And our daughter
was unspoken.

“Nothing much. I worked in a bakery.” I wondered if he thought back to when I’d brought over chocolate-chip cookies, his favorite. Or when I’d made cupcakes as both our contributions to the school bake fair, since neither of us had mothers to do it for us. Or when I’d made brownies, laced with more adult things. I wondered but didn’t ask. The pain mixed with nostalgia—bittersweet.

“And now?” he asked.

I blushed.

“Ah,” he said. “Colin Murphy, right?”

Something flickered—had I told him Colin’s name? I must have. “Something like that.”

His eyes darkened as his gaze raked down the side of my bruised face. “He’s treating you right?”

I raised an eyebrow. As if he were one to worry about my well-being. He hadn’t only hurt me, but he’d kicked off the chain of events that had
hurt
me. The doctors and nurses, then the…
Don’t think about that.
“What’re you going to do if he’s not?”

“Hey, it’s not all sunshine and candy in the military.”

I gave him a full-body perusal back. He’d clearly gotten built since years ago, but he didn’t have Colin’s bulk. Nor did he have Colin’s determination, no matter if he’d matured in the past two years. I had the feeling Colin’s fortitude had been forged early, making him a lot older than the six years that separated us.

“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 Jacob 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 Jacob 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 Jacob 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 Jacob’s assessment of Shelly as my soldier. She may help me—a lot—but I had no illusions that she took orders from me.

* * * *

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.”

I should tell him I saw Jacob. Now, before I lost the chance. “I worried about you.”

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.”