of the door. “The situation isn’t safe. I need to control all the variables I can until it is.”
“That’s nuts. I didn’t have anything to do with blowing up a car. I wouldn’t know a bomb if I tripped over one. I’ve never even held a gun . Plus, I was about to get into that car myself—like a fool.” She stepped away from him, her head full of buzzing bees. If she’d only gone home with her friends last night, she’d be at the farmer’s market right now, picking out eggplants and kale. Now she was a hostage—thirty feet from her own home.
“I believe you. But I don’t know you well enough to trust you. And you are in danger. The people who want to hurt my uncle and me have gone for people close to us before.”
“I’m not close to you.” She rubbed her arm where he’d gripped her and knew she both sounded and looked petulant. Well, she felt petulant.
“They think you are.”
Bev was tired, and they were talking in circles. Her ribs hurt horribly, and her head did, too. Moreover, she’d realized that she hadn’t washed since she’d gotten ready for her fancy night out at Neon. She was just done with this stupid argument.
“I need to tell my friends I’m okay. I don’t care if you told Chris for me. I need to talk to him. And Sky, too. I need to ask my boss for a few days off. I need a shower. I need my own clothes and things. And I need my Percocet.”
“I’ll send Donnie over to your place with you, and you can pick up what you need and bring it back. You can call your friends and your boss on my landline, in the living room. My shower is your shower—help yourself. There’s a full first aid kit in the bathroom next to the guestroom so you can re-dress your wounds. And I’m keeping track of your Percocet. Let me know when you need it.”
“Why? What right do you have?”
He shifted his eyes to her tattooed wrist. Bastard. “I’m not a man who takes reckless chances.”
“Who are you to judge me? You don’t know me at all.”
“Which is my point.” He stepped toward her and put his hand on the doorknob. “I have to get going. My mother will take care of you. Men will be in and out most of the day, but Donnie will stay here to keep watch over you both.”
He opened the door and indicated she should go through first. Exhausted, confused, and inexpressibly sad, Bev did.
~oOo~
Nick left before his mother’s ziti was out of the oven, but throughout the rest of the day, there were usually at least three men in his apartment, and the ziti got hit repeatedly. It was gone long before there was any sign of Nick’s return. As it dwindled, Betty started a roast.
Donnie took Bev to her apartment shortly after Nick left, and she packed a bag, feeling absurd, packing to go across the hall. She picked up her laptop, but Donnie took it from her with a shake of his head and a “Sorry, ma’am.”
She really was a hostage. She dug her paper address book out of a drawer and brought that with her instead. Then Donnie took her back to Nick’s. He made her call her friends in the living room, where everybody could hear.
Chris was terrified and furious, and she could only speak to him for a few minutes, because he wouldn’t stop yelling, and there were too many strangers around her to answer the questions he shouted at her. But when she said, “I love you, please don’t be mad,” at the end of the call, he replied, “I’m mad because I love you, Bev. I want you safe.”
She thought they’d be okay, once she could get control of her life back.
She called Bruce next, who had heard about the bombing but not that she had been hurt in it. He was sweet and concerned for her health, and he told her to take the time she needed. She told him she hoped to be back at work by Wednesday at the latest, which would be only two days missed, Sunday and Tuesday. She had already been scheduled off on Monday. She
“That’s nuts. I didn’t have anything to do with blowing up a car. I wouldn’t know a bomb if I tripped over one. I’ve never even held a gun . Plus, I was about to get into that car myself—like a fool.” She stepped away from him, her head full of buzzing bees. If she’d only gone home with her friends last night, she’d be at the farmer’s market right now, picking out eggplants and kale. Now she was a hostage—thirty feet from her own home.
“I believe you. But I don’t know you well enough to trust you. And you are in danger. The people who want to hurt my uncle and me have gone for people close to us before.”
“I’m not close to you.” She rubbed her arm where he’d gripped her and knew she both sounded and looked petulant. Well, she felt petulant.
“They think you are.”
Bev was tired, and they were talking in circles. Her ribs hurt horribly, and her head did, too. Moreover, she’d realized that she hadn’t washed since she’d gotten ready for her fancy night out at Neon. She was just done with this stupid argument.
“I need to tell my friends I’m okay. I don’t care if you told Chris for me. I need to talk to him. And Sky, too. I need to ask my boss for a few days off. I need a shower. I need my own clothes and things. And I need my Percocet.”
“I’ll send Donnie over to your place with you, and you can pick up what you need and bring it back. You can call your friends and your boss on my landline, in the living room. My shower is your shower—help yourself. There’s a full first aid kit in the bathroom next to the guestroom so you can re-dress your wounds. And I’m keeping track of your Percocet. Let me know when you need it.”
“Why? What right do you have?”
He shifted his eyes to her tattooed wrist. Bastard. “I’m not a man who takes reckless chances.”
“Who are you to judge me? You don’t know me at all.”
“Which is my point.” He stepped toward her and put his hand on the doorknob. “I have to get going. My mother will take care of you. Men will be in and out most of the day, but Donnie will stay here to keep watch over you both.”
He opened the door and indicated she should go through first. Exhausted, confused, and inexpressibly sad, Bev did.
~oOo~
Nick left before his mother’s ziti was out of the oven, but throughout the rest of the day, there were usually at least three men in his apartment, and the ziti got hit repeatedly. It was gone long before there was any sign of Nick’s return. As it dwindled, Betty started a roast.
Donnie took Bev to her apartment shortly after Nick left, and she packed a bag, feeling absurd, packing to go across the hall. She picked up her laptop, but Donnie took it from her with a shake of his head and a “Sorry, ma’am.”
She really was a hostage. She dug her paper address book out of a drawer and brought that with her instead. Then Donnie took her back to Nick’s. He made her call her friends in the living room, where everybody could hear.
Chris was terrified and furious, and she could only speak to him for a few minutes, because he wouldn’t stop yelling, and there were too many strangers around her to answer the questions he shouted at her. But when she said, “I love you, please don’t be mad,” at the end of the call, he replied, “I’m mad because I love you, Bev. I want you safe.”
She thought they’d be okay, once she could get control of her life back.
She called Bruce next, who had heard about the bombing but not that she had been hurt in it. He was sweet and concerned for her health, and he told her to take the time she needed. She told him she hoped to be back at work by Wednesday at the latest, which would be only two days missed, Sunday and Tuesday. She had already been scheduled off on Monday. She
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