When Brian lets John’s hand go, he puts his palm to the back of his jeans and carefully wipes it off, hoping he can somehow erase the traitorous stink from his skin.
“What are you doing here, man?” asks John, his lip twitching just a little. Suspicion is written all over his face, and the fake-happy voice isn’t fooling Brian for a second.
Play it cool, Brian. Just play it cool for half a minute and then get the hell outta here. “Oh, yeah … I got a buddy up there on the fourth floor. Too much partying or something.” Brian tries to laugh it off, but his face is contorting into weird shapes with the effort. He quits while he’s still ahead and goes back to trying not to look like he wants to murder this abuser, this sorry excuse for a man.
John nods. “Bummer. I hear ya, though. I had alcohol poisoning once, and it was not good. Not good at all.”
“What about you? What are you doing here?” Brian tries with everything he has to be chilled out, like he’s just a neighbor happening upon another neighbor and shooting the breeze. But then he blows it with his next volley, his mouth getting away from his brain. “Is it your wife you’re visiting?” Fuck! Why did I say that? God, I’m such an idiot!
John frowns. “What do you know about my wife?”
Brian attempts to play it off, shrugging. “Nothing. I just figured with that sign on your door and what you said …”
“What’s that?” John’s shoulders go back a little and he holds firm on the elevator doors that are protesting being held open. He’s definitely spoiling for a fight.
Brian scrambles to explain, to get out of the mess he’s well in the process of making. “You know, you told my boy that she can’t take care of herself and you have that sign saying not to knock or ring the bell … I think you mentioned she was sick? Sorry, I must have misunderstood. Listen, I gotta go.”
“Oh, hey, yeah, man. No problem. But no, I’m not visiting my wife. Just, you know … a friend.” John leans towards Brian with an outstretched hand. “I’ll get that bill over to you in the next day or so. Take care, man.”
Brian shakes his hand, resisting the urge to yank it hard and bring John over for a nice jaw-cracking. “Yeah. Take care.”
Brian leaves the elevator and starts walking down the hall as rapidly as he can without seeming like he’s running away.
“Hope your friend’s feeling better!” John’s voice follows him down the corridor.
Sweat breaks out on Brian’s upper lip, but he waits until he’s around the corner before he wipes it off. “Sweet Mary mother of all that is frigging holy,” he says under his breath, taking off at a jog for the parking lot. If it weren’t for bad luck, he wouldn’t have any luck at all.
The only ray of light in this whole mess is that Tana had come up with the idea of bringing Nicole out as a corpse instead of letting Brian take her down to the lobby as a girl in a wig. I would have taken the stairs, he says to himself, trying to move past the horrible images of Nicole running into her living, breathing nightmare right as she was trying to start over.
He wouldn’t have seen her. I can take care of her. I can keep her safe. He never doubted it before, so it’s killing him that he is now. This is no little game of cat and mouse or hide and seek; Nicole is a human being and her life is in very real danger.
Keeping that evil asshole away from her has now become Brian’s life-mission. Seeing the monster acting so casual up close, after having nearly killed that practically helpless woman, makes Brian want to roar like a wounded lion and tear the man to shreds. He’s only ever felt this protective once in his life before, and that was when someone came close to hitting Liam with their car in front of the house. That teenager was lucky to have driven away in one piece.
Brian looks over his shoulder as he walks to his car. He can’t be sure the asshole hasn’t followed him, so he gets into the vehicle and leaves the hospital property entirely. Only after driving around the block several times, does he come back and drive over to the discrete entrance the nurse described to him, on the other side of the building from where visitors would enter. His eyes are scanning the streets and parking lots around him the entire time, hoping not to spot a man in a blue shirt with a red hat. Luckily, he sees nothing.
Pulling into the loading zone, he leaves the car running and jumps out. The door that was cracked open swings out the rest of the way and the nurse is standing there. Nicole is next to her, hunched over, looking like she’s either about to take off running or collapse on the floor.
“What took you so long?” Nicole asks as he approaches, her voice filled with fear.
“I just got delayed on the way down. It’s no big deal, come on.” He puts his arm around the back of her shoulders. “Thanks, Tana,” he says to the nurse, “you’re an angel.”
“You take care of her. And here …” She hands him a business card that he glances at briefly before tucking it into his back pocket. “I wrote my cell number on the back. If you need any minor medical attention or have questions, just call me. I’ll come see you personally at your house, off the books. I’m serious.”
Brian gives her a quick, one-armed hug before leading Nicole to the car. “Thank you. For everything.” He wishes he could tell her right now that she already saved Nicole’s life once, maybe twice with her care and her idea to sneak out like this, but he doesn’t want Nicole to hear it. She’s not ready for that yet.
“Thank you,” Nicole says to the woman over her shoulder.
“Get better,” Tana says just before closing the hospital door behind her.
“Is everything okay?” Nicole asks, allowing Brian to guide her to the back seat. He opens the door and removes his arm from her shoulders so she can get in.
“Yes, everything’s fine. But I want you to lay down back here, okay?” He reaches inside and takes a beach towel he always keeps back there and folds it into quarters, putting it at the far side of the back seat. “Here’s a pillow.”
“Why do I have to lie down? It hurts my ribs.” She looks at him, fear and distrust in her eyes.
He hates that she has to feel that way around him, especially knowing he’s keeping something from her. He’s earning the distrust right in this very moment, but he’s afraid she’ll run back into the hospital and right into John’s arms if he says anything. She always seems to be on the cusp of giving up.
“Because.” He speaks softly, making sure none of his own panic reaches his voice. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Come on. In you go.”
“Something’s wrong.” Nicole resists, her face taking on the panicked look again. “Tell me.”
Brian takes her by the shoulders and looks her in the eyes. The two of them are inches apart, and he has to battle to keep the tears away as he takes in her bruised face and heavily blood-shot eyes. “Nicole, I don’t want you to panic, but I saw John inside the hospital.”
Tears immediately fill her eyes and she whimpers, her face trembling. “He’s here?” Her whisper sounds like it’s coming straight out of a horror movie.
“Yes. So please, lie down in the back. I need to get you out of here.”
Nicole doesn’t ask any more questions. She crawls into the back seat, crying as she goes. Curling into a ball on the back seat, she sobs quietly.
Brian’s heart breaks as he closes the door at her feet. Relieved that she didn’t run back inside, he rushes to get into the driver’s seat and leaves the property as fast as he can without calling attention to himself. His head is on a swivel, looking right and left for the red hat. At the stop sign just before going out onto the main road, he pulls out his cell and calls the number on the back of the business card, dialing awkwardly while he also turns the wheel.
“Tana speaking.”
“Tana, it’s Brian. You just brought Nic … I mean, Briana, down to the morgue for me?”
“Yes, Brian. What can I do for you?”
“Listen … I don’t want to get you involved in anything anymore than I already have, but I just wanted to give
you a heads up. The asshole who did all that … stuff … to Briana? He’s in the hospital. I saw him on my way down.”
“Oh my god, should I call security?”
“No. What I’d love for you to do, though, is just tell him no one with the kind of injuries I’m sure he’ll describe or anyone meeting a description he might use was there on your floor.”
“Why do you think he’s coming here? They’re not just going to let him in, you know. We have security.”
“He’s already in. He was getting in the elevator when I got out. He’s going to check rooms for her and ask questions. If you could head him off, that would be great.”
Tana’s voice drops to a low whisper. “Don’t tell me, let me guess … he’s wearing a navy polo and jeans with a red and navy baseball hat.”
Brian’s heart leaps into his throat. “Yeah. That’s him.”
“I got this. Just get her the hell out of here.” The line goes dead.
Chapter Twenty-Two
NICOLE SITS ON THE BED and stares at the picture on the nightstand. Picking up the frame, she focuses on the faces. They look so happy. The perfect family.
Hearing a noise at the guest bedroom door, she looks up to find Brian standing there looking at her as he leans on the doorframe.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Who’s this? Your wife?”
Brian comes in and sits down next to her on the bed. “That’s Helen. She’s my ex-wife, emphasis on the ex, not the wife.” He points to the little boy. “And that’s Liam. I call him Li-Li sometimes. I’m not sure how much longer he’s going to allow it, though, since he thinks he’s too grown up.”
“How old is he?”
“Six going on sixteen.”
Nicole finds herself smiling, even though it makes her sad in a way. She thinks of Kitten in John’s backyard and realizes that even though she’s two blocks away, the pain is never that far from her heart.
“So, you up for a game of gin rummy?” Brian asks.
Nicole allows him to take the frame from her hand and lean over her legs to put it back on the nightstand.
“Gin rummy? Cards?” He smells nice. Catching a whiff of his shirt and hair as he leans back, she closes her eyes for a moment. Butterflies have taken up residence in her stomach over it. The idea of being nervous in his presence and enjoying his male-ness makes her instantly sad. As beautiful as he his, nothing will change the cold, hard facts of her life. It’s like the fairy tale her mother used to read to her when she was little, only with the roles reversed. She remembers painfully how wrong she’d been back then; she always pictured herself as Beauty and not The Beast she is today.
“Yeah.” Brian stands up. “I’m pretty good though, so if you don’t want to lose, I understand.”
She can’t help but smile at his bravado. “I haven’t played that since I was a kid. I don’t remember how to, actually.”
“Come on.” He holds out a hand to help her up. “I’ll teach you.”
Nicole ignores it and uses the edge of the bed to stand. It’s not that she’s rejecting him, it’s just that it hurts too much to have something pulling on her arms like that. She feels bad when he frowns a little, but not bad enough that she’s going to apologize or explain. It’s better that he not be so nice all the time anyway. It’ll just make it harder to leave in a few days. There will be no happy ending to this little story; she’s not foolish enough to even dream otherwise. Life will never be a fairy tale for a girl like her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
NICOLE LOOKS OVER HER CARDS at him. She’s smiling at whatever she has going on in her hand, and Brian can’t help but grin back. She could easily be the worst card player that ever walked the earth, but her attempts at winning make it fun.
“You look pretty pleased with yourself over there,” he says, taking a handful of peanuts and tossing them back into his mouth.
“I’m pretty sure I’m going to win this one.” Her brows are furrowed in concentration.
He looks down at his own hand and the scoresheet on the table. “I’m feeling pretty scared, let me tell you.”
“Oh, you should be.”
For the first hour they played, Brian worried about teasing her too much or saying things that she might take wrong, like telling her she scared him, for one. But he quickly learned after a few bumbling teases came tumbling out of his mouth that she’s a great sport and likes to tease as much as he does. His heart is feeling really full over the fact that she’s so resilient. Less than a week ago she was beaten within an inch of her life. Today, she’s drinking soda, eating terrible frozen pizza like it’s a gourmet meal, and losing like a boss at cards.
His mouth goes up in a half-smile as he realizes how much fun he’s having just hanging out with her. He hasn’t even noticed her damaged face in hours.
“What are you smiling about over there? I’m about to take you downtown. You should be frowning.”
“Iiiii’m not so sure about that,” he says, adding a seven to a run he’s had building since the deal. He throws down an eight. “Here’s some trash you can take out.” He looks up and grins big, ready for her next volley.
She freezes in place. The sly smile that was there on her lips, ready to tease him once again, disappears and her face goes white. Tears well up in her eyes and she jumps to her feet, throwing her cards down on the table. She opens her mouth to speak, but the words come out rough. “I … I have to go… to the bathroom.” Leaving the table in a hurry, she moves swiftly down the hall. The door slams shut behind her before Brian can completely process what just happened.
“What’d I say?” he says in a low voice, replaying his last words in his mind. Taking out the trash? Is that what bothered her?
He gets up and walks to the bathroom, leaving his cards at the table. Tapping on the door, he leans in so he won’t have to shout to be heard. “Nicole? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she says, her voice almost a falsetto. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Can I get you anything? A newspaper or magazine?” He’s trying to be funny, trying to smooth over the horrible feeling that he’s done something wrong. Cringing at his poor taste, he breathes out a long sigh. Helen is right about him. He’s too goofy sometimes. It’s his fall-back plan when he doesn’t know what to do, and this is definitely one of those times.
She doesn’t respond.
“I’m going to be in the living room waiting for you. When you come out, we can talk or keep playing cards or just quit for the night. It’s up to you.”
He waits until she responds, worried about what he’ll have to do if she doesn’t. The relief in his heart is almost palpable when her voice comes through the door and it sounds less distressed.
“Okay. Just give me a minute.”
Brian goes into the living room and sits on the couch, staring at the entrance to the hallway, hoping she’ll come through and not just disappear into her bedroom. He tortures himself with visions of her leaving and walking back to her house and into the arms of the monster.
Chapter Twenty-Four
NICOLE STARES AT THE MIRROR as the tears fall down her cheeks. She thought she was over this, over the pain and over hating how she looks, but as she stands there and feels her own stomach turn over at her destroyed face, she knows; it’ll never be over. She’ll never be able to forget what John has done to her, and even worse, what she let him do to her. And to Kitten.
Images of that night slip into her conscious mind, refusing to be suppressed. She can’t separate the reality from her nightmares, not even certain this happened but feeling like it must have. “Take out the trash, Nikki. Bury it. Here it is …” She can still see the small bundle in his hands, held out in front of her.
Taking several deep breaths, she tries to contain her emotions. She swallows over and over to keep from vomiting. No. I won’t think about that. I won’t do that to myself right now. I need time to heal my face first. I’ll heal my soul later. She visually drinks in th
e damage showing in the mirror. She’s avoided reflective surfaces for two years. Even when John forced her to look, she would purposely blur her vision so she couldn’t truly see what was in front of her. Today, this moment, is the first time she’s actually seen her own face clearly, in detail.
My god, what a horrible mess. She touches the odd-looking cheekbones that are no longer aligned or even in the right place. Her fingers slide to her flattened nose, pushing it gently from one side to the other, pinching it to see what it might have looked like years ago. She can’t remember her real nose, all she knows is that this is nothing like it used to be when she was nineteen and meeting John for the first time.
There’s a brush on the counter and she uses it to arrange her hair. One of the nurses had taken out all the tangles while she was unconscious at the hospital. She’d fallen asleep with near-dreadlocks and woken up with smooth hair, the bald spots covered with strategic comb-overs.
As Nicole runs her fingers through the soft strands, she finds several spots on her scalp where the missing hair is growing in. It’s only stubble now, but in a year or two, it’ll be long again. She smiles at the idea of having a full head of hair, before she realizes that the chances of that happening are not one hundred percent.
It can only happen if John is just a tiny speck in her rearview mirror. As she pulls back her lips to inspect her mouth, it’s her broken and missing teeth that remind her most effectively about her reality.