Finally finishing up at work. I miss you.

My phone buzzed against the bar and I grabbed it quickly, seeing a text from Michele. It had been a week since our dinner, and I was at The Capital, finishing up a beer, having met up with Erik earlier. He’d left about ten minutes ago, abandoning me to my thoughts. A text from Michele was a great distraction, and I smiled, my fingers flying across the screen, but before I hit the send button, someone cleared their throat behind me.

“Who’re you texting?”

Startled, I twisted around in my stool.

I stopped breathing. The sounds of the bar died in my ears, and the first and only thing I could think of was Michele.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Brandon stood there, hands in his coat pockets, brown eyes flashing at me. He looked largely unchanged since the last time I saw him, but I could see gray flecks in his hair. The sight of him sent my heart to my throat. I dropped my phone face-first against the bar with a clatter, squeezing my hands into tight, rigid fists.

I struggled to come up with something to say. Brandon was here.

“What’re you doing here?” I finally asked him. I tried to feign surprise, to look as if I wasn’t terrified to see him, but I knew that I was failing, miserably.

What shocked me most about seeing him was the calm, unnerving expression on his face. That look was unfamiliar to me, but I realized that Michele must have seen that look every single day of her life. He looked like a hunter, poised before his prey.

“I came to find my wife,” he said. “I sent someone to Tampa, but they found no trace of her.”

I swallowed. Brandon was watching me very closely, his body stiff and angled toward me, unmoving. Logically, I knew he had to be onto me. Otherwise, why would he be here now? But if he was going to play dumb, then I would, too. My hands itched to open my phone and shoot Michele a text of warning, but I saw no way of doing so without setting him off. I imagined her getting off work soon and walking the streets alone back home, easily seen by anybody. Was Brandon alone? We were only a few blocks from Catfish, and barely four from her apartment.

My skin crawled knowing that Brandon was so close to her again. The very thing I promised her that I’d protect her from.

I longed to sock him right in his face but knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. Not in such a public place, and not unprovoked.

“You’re….” I paused. “You’re here because you found her?”

He didn’t answer me at first. He sat on the stool next to me, gesturing at the bartender, and ordered a shot of Blue Label. He downed it in one go, licking his lips and slapping the glass down. I didn’t think I’d ever felt more repulsed by anybody in my entire life.

“I have.” He ordered another shot. He took his time with this one, holding it up to the light, peering through the glass. Then he looked at me. “You know, back before my wife ran off on me, she used to steal my scotch.”

I stared at him, uncertain what to say.

“It sounds stupid, but I always pretended I didn’t know. She was never good at hiding things. Like the money she stole from me - $5 here, $10 there. I knew she was doing it. But why call her out on it? I figured, why rock the boat? If she gets some power trip drinking my liquor and stealing my money, who cares?”

He sounded deranged, his voice getting louder and louder with each question he sent out into the open air. I shifted on my stool, wanting desperately to send her a warning. I took a sip of my beer, something to wet my dry mouth.

“But it was the other shit that set me off. The sad look on her face all the time, her pathetic attempts at family dinners, the way she’d never tell me anything unless I pried it from her.” He downed the shot after that, and my heart seized, coldness washing through me. Not once had he said her name. Not once had he given her that respect. It dawned on me that Brandon had to know about my involvement with her. Why else would he be so desperate to claim ownership? Why else would he be here?

“After your helpful little tip,” he said, looking at me with that blank expression on his face again, “I’m here. And it was obviously perfect timing, because you were in the middle of texting her.”

“Man, you do not wanna do this here,” I said, forcing my voice to be quiet. It was an effort to reign in my emotions, and I clenched my fists against the bar. If we were somewhere less public, I would have punched him by now. There was a chance that he was totally bluffing - that he only had a vague idea of where she might be, and only because he suspected that I was involved with her. It was possible that he only knew how to find me, and he was using that to his advantage to scare me.

It wasn’t going to work.

“Do what?” he asked innocently.

“You know what.”

“I haven’t done anything. I certainly haven’t been running around with someone else’s wife. The same someone who saved your life. Or did you forget that?”

This was it, then. He knew the truth - not that I ever truly thought anything else. I struggled for a response.

“Oh, you must be wondering how I know.” Brandon pushed his empty shot glass away, a smirk on his face, the first expression he’d given me since he got here. “You gave it away when you told me she might be in Tampa.”

“How?”

“Because I never told you that, dipshit. She did. It was then that I knew I was tailing the wrong person - so I hired someone to tail you. How do you think I found this fucking dump?”

I ground my teeth, refusing to fall for the bait. My face was flaming all the same, my blunder so evident now that it had been spoken aloud. I had allowed for this to happen. I had led Brandon to Michele, just by opening my mouth. I thought frantically for anything to say that might make him disappear, but other than blatantly lying, which he wouldn’t believe, I had no idea what I could say. And if Brandon knew where she lived or worked, then she was fucked.

But he does know where she works, a nasty voice prodded, and my adrenaline spiked. She told you exactly that last week and you fucking told her there was ‘no way’.

Fuck.

“That was you,” I said. “At the bar, looking for her. Michele.”

His face spread into the most malicious grin, and I sat back in my stool, stunned by it.

“Just a little test,” he said, rubbing his hands together, his smile dropping, his face again that cool, indifferent mask. “A little field trip.”

And I’d told her there was no way.

Now, I tried to think back, to remember everywhere we’d gone since I’d called Brandon and dropped the case. He knew where she worked, so there was nothing I could do about that, but did he know where she lived?

Mostly my own words filtered through, telling her to consider my apartment her safe spot. I could only hope that she didn’t take that seriously, because my apartment would be one of the most dangerous places for her to go right now.

All along, she’d been telling me that she worried Brandon would find her. That he would take her back home. I’d always known that it was a possibility, of course. But to see him here now in front of me?

I failed her. That’s all there was to it. I pushed her worries away, I’d soothed them with words and sex but had only managed to make things worse. Nothing I’d done was a permanent fix. It never could have been. I’d allowed myself to believe that maybe, if we wished it, this moment would never come.

“I’ll call the police,” I said. “There’s good cause for them to arrest you.”

He laughed at that, more of a bark than anything else. The sound made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

“The police? They can all be bought, Iain. Surely you’re smart enough to realize that.”

“Fuck you,” I told him. “You think you can just walk in here and take an unwilling person somewhere they don’t want to be?” I gestured at the bartender for my tab and shoved my arms into my coat. I looked around the bar, searching for anyone who’d been paying attention to us at all, but nobody seemed to have been. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Unwilling or not, she belongs to me,” Brandon said calmly, as if we were discussing little more than the weather. He made no moves to stand up, and even though I towered over him, he appeared to be totally at ease. He gestured at the bartender, too, and when both of our receipts were in front of us, he placed a black card on top of his. “And believe me, once I have her taken care of, I’ll be dealing with you.”

He was threatening me. He was threatening both of us. The room blurred around me. My ears rang. It was so hard to understand how someone could be this deranged - was he not frightened of the repercussions of coming here, of stalking us? Or was he so certain that he wouldn’t get caught that he just didn’t care?

I did know one thing: I couldn’t bear to hear another word. I paid my tab and gave Brandon one last, disgusted look before leaving the bar, speed-walking my way down the street, not caring if he followed me.

If he was following me, then he wasn’t following Michele, and that was good enough for me.

 

xxx

 

On my way back to my apartment, I looked around wildly to ensure that nobody was following me, especially Brandon. I wondered how much of what he had said was pure bullshit.

My heart was in overdrive, adrenaline coursing through me. Pain shot through my shoulder, the one that had been shot, and I grabbed at it, trying to chase the spasms away. Now was not the time to fall back on old pains.

Now was the time to act.

I wanted, badly, to check on Michele at her apartment. But not knowing who would be following, and the chances that I’d be leading Brandon right to her - I couldn’t do that. No way.

I had very few options. Firstly, I could call the police. I shook off what Brandon had said - not every cop could be bought, I knew that for a fact. There were at least a few cops who didn’t give a shit that he was a Coffey. I could call my dad, to get some of the good ones to watch Michele’s apartment for the time being. His threats toward the both of us would give them plenty of cause to watch over us both.

A lump formed in my throat as I thought about what I had to do next.

I opened my phone, looking at the text message she’d sent me, and at the unsent reply sitting in my drafts - I miss you too. Let’s spend the night tomorrow. She never messaged me again, and I stared at the green and white on the screen, hating myself for what I was about to do. Delivering the worst news of her life, confirming her fears, admitting to my faults. I shoved my phone in my pocket, heading back to my apartment.

Once again, I made sure that nobody was following me before I bounded up the stairs, unlocking my door and bolting it shut behind me. My apartment was dark; I’d forgotten to keep a light on before I left, and I switched on a lamp, removing my coat and throwing it on the couch.

I pulled my phone out with shaking hands. I hovered over her name, biting my lip. Everything about our time together had been so fleeting, little more than a blink of an eye. I hadn’t cherished her enough, I hadn’t done everything I could to imprint her to memory. Would I ever hear her laugh again? Would I ever see her again?

Would she forgive me for what I allowed to happen?

Even if she didn’t, even if I never heard from her again, if it meant that she was safe from Brandon, then that would be okay with me. I loved her too much to let my own selfish desires get in the way of what was best for her.

The realization hit me all at once and without remorse. I loved her.

And my love had only brought her pain.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I dialed her number, holding the phone up to my ear. The metallic ringing went on and on, until it cut to voicemail, the generic message blaring into my ear. After the tone, I let it go for about five seconds before I forced myself to speak.

“Michele, it’s Iain. Call me as soon as you get this.”

I ended the call, staring at my phone until the screen went black. I went through all the scenarios and all the reasons why she couldn’t answer the phone. She was either busy at work, home asleep, or taken. It was absolutely killing me to not know for sure.

Even though it was late, I called my dad, letting it ring and ring until he picked up, his voice groggy from sleep.

“Dad, I need you,” I said, pleading. “It’s an emergency.”

“What’s the matter? Is it Sandra?” He sounded suddenly wide awake.

“No,” I replied. “No, it’s Michele.”

I told him everything. I told him about Brandon, about the phone call he gave me, about the case. I told him about Michele, about how we met, how I promised her I’d keep Brandon away. I told him that Brandon was in town now, that he was threatening us, that he had hired someone to find me. I told him that Michele was alone in her apartment for another week and I feared for her life - that I believed Brandon intended to take her back to Indiana, to lock her back up in that house of his and never let her leave.

When I was done, Dad was quiet. There was rustling on the other line, the sound of his radio being turned on.

“Dad? Do you think you could get a guy or two out there, just to make sure she’s okay?”

“Yes, son. I’m on it. Where is this Brandon Coffey staying?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know.”

“But he was at The Capital earlier?” he asked me. “About a half hour ago?”

“Yeah.” I walked over to the window, looking down, searching for any sign of Brandon or anyone else lingering, but I saw no one. “He told me that the police wouldn’t help. That they were bought.”

“He sounds like a real treat,” Dad said. “Listen, Iain. I’m gonna call this in. I’ll get a couple guys out there to keep an eye out. I’ll put a couple guys in front of your building too. But in the meantime, don’t get any ideas. I don’t need my son charged with assault. We wanna bring him in the right way, okay?”

“Don’t worry,” I assured him, though I wanted nothing more than to find him, to give him a reason to go home and never come back. I thought of Michele, hoping that she was sleeping peacefully, one last night of true freedom. Before I broke the news.

“Any idea, at all, where this guy might be staying?”

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see it. “None. He’s loaded, but I don’t know if that means anything. He might be staying somewhere close by, just so that he can keep a close watch on us. But I can’t be sure.” I wracked my brain for any clue, anything that Brandon had said that could have given him away. “He didn’t say anything about where he was staying.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “In the meantime, get some rest. Michele will be safe and sound.”

I gave Dad her building address, then told him where she worked, and then hung up the phone. I sighed, then turned my phone volume up all the way. There was no way I was going to be able to fall asleep anytime soon, but I didn’t want to risk not hearing my phone if it rang.

Walking to my bedroom, I shed my shirt and pants, letting the chill overtake me. I lay on my bed, not even bothering to get under the covers, setting my phone next to my head, staring at the blank, dark ceiling.

All of this was my fault. If I hadn’t run my mouth, if I hadn’t said anything to him, none of this would be happening right now. I’d only been trying to buy her more time, and I’d totally fucked everything up. Michele’s face popped into my mind - her laughing, smiling face. I thought of her expression of worry, of the permanent frown in her photos. What would Brandon do to her once he’d found her?

I couldn’t bear to think about it. I wouldn’t think about it. I couldn’t allow for the possibility that Brandon would find her - even if she knew where she lived, the police wouldn’t let him near her. Or so I hoped.

 

xxx

 

I barely slept all night. I tossed and turned, checking the clock, each passing hour feeling like eternity.

When morning came, everything would change. What I felt about Michele - it didn’t matter. Not now that Brandon was here, no longer a vague, impending threat but a real one. He intended to swoop in and take her, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.

He’d looked so expressionless at the bar, his face completely unreadable. I didn’t remember him looking that way in the Army - I only remembered his hotheadedness and anger. He’d been so quick to lose his temper back then. But we were all that way; we were at war.

Thinking about him raising a hand to Michele made me sick. And she’d put up with it for years before getting the courage to leave. I couldn’t imagine a world where that was okay, but I knew there would be no way to stop him if nobody intervened.

Which was why I hoped there were cops outside of her building, ready to arrest him if he showed up.

It ate at me like crazy that I hadn’t done the right thing. Spending time with her at all had been a fatal mistake. Being with Michele was flawed from the start; there was never going to be a happy ending for us. The sooner I came to terms with that, the better.

There was no getting around the fact that being with her was the worst thing I could have done for her. I knew it from the beginning. I’d been uncomfortable making promises to protect her from Brandon, and now, here I was, faced with the reality that I couldn’t do just that. Everything I’d promised her had been for nothing.

More broken promises.

The way I felt about love hadn’t changed. Feeling it - love - didn’t change a fucking thing. I’d still made promises I couldn’t keep. I couldn’t protect Michele from the one thing she feared the most. That made me a failure.

Again.

I couldn’t just call Michele and tell her Brandon was in town. No. I had to tell her that Brandon was in town and that I couldn’t do anything about it. I had to tell her, in the only way that I knew how, that I wasn’t going to be able to protect her from Brandon. I had to tell her to skip town - to pack her bags and leave.

To never look back.

Was it the right thing to do? I didn’t know. In an ideal world, she could divorce him, she could start new without the constant threat of finding him over her shoulder. But this wasn’t an ideal world.

I didn’t want to leave her. Every ounce of my being craved her – to be near her, to touch her, to hear her voice, to make her laugh. But that was the idealistic part of me. The other part, the part that knew the world as it was, understood that being with Michele was a luxury I didn’t deserve.

My new task was getting her to see that too.