Ollie

I glance over at my girlfriend who’s flitting from aisle to aisle like a kid in a candy store. We get Rolly back tomorrow, and unbeknownst to him, we’re throwing him a surprise party. His birthday is technically on the following Monday, but Saturday was the best day to have everyone come over. It’s the first time I’ve hosted it. Usually, Allie takes care of things like this. It’s incredible how things have changed.

“Look, babe. These will make adorable monsters.” She shakes a package of googly eyes and a stack of neon cups.

“You know, I blame this on you.”

Her smile drops. “What ... hosting? You don’t want to?” She tilts her head.

“No, I do, sassy. I mean his love for monsters.”

She smiles. “It’s pretty adorable.”

Not to Allie. “I agree. My boy has good taste.”

She rolls her eyes. “If I’m sassy, you’re cocky.”

I glance down. “You think so?”

“Stop.” She points at me with her index finger.

“What?”

“Don’t look at me with those sex eyes.”

I bark a laugh. “Sex eyes?”

She narrows her eyes, makes the sign of the cross, and backs up toward the cart she’s currently filling. I don’t mind. Seeing her so involved with Rolly reaffirms what I already know. This is the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.

“You’re adorable, you know that?”

She shakes her butt at me, and I return to looking at the craft kits. Rolly loves to make things, and I need a few more small presents for him. I know I might be spoiling him, but kids grow so fast. It won’t be long before he’s getting into electronics and girls. I want to see his hazel eyes sparkle with the joy of youth before the time passes. My father missed out on so much being gone for business. I didn’t want that for Rolly. I promised myself I wouldn’t leave him with that feeling. It’s true what people say—we remember out childhood when we have kids and parent accordingly.

I don’t slack on the discipline, but I do spoil him a little. He’s a good kid dealing with a lot. Separations are tough, and Allie and I didn’t make things any easier with our on and off again bullshit. I cringe thinking of how long we might’ve drawn that out if I hadn’t woken up. My thoughts drift to my father. While I’ve made it clear he can’t pretend the past didn’t happen, we’ve made progress. Unlike before, he’s making an effort and taking responsibility for his part in the ruin of our relationship. Before he always played the victim and left the burden on me to fix things. I’m still getting adjusted to this new version of my father, but I’m optimistic enough to be hopeful.

The open invitation I extended to him and his family was a huge step for us both. But I think my mother was correct; it’s time to mend broken fences. When I leave this earth, I don’t want to have unfinished business weighing me down. I grab a volcano making kit, an age appropriate science experiment kit, and a dinosaurs in a bucket kit with stickers, mazes, and coloring pages. Pleased, I carry my things to the cart and add it to the pile beginning to form.

“You know he’s only got six friends coming not sixty, right?” I ask her.

“Yes, but I want it to be perfect.”

“He’s going to love it, sassy. Kids are easy to please.”

She sighs. “I know, but it’s our first time really doing something together like a ...”

“Family. It’s okay. You can say it,” I whisper.

“I just. I want to make a good impression on everyone.”

“You already have just by being yourself and putting up with me.” I kiss the back of her neck, and she laughs.

“Ha. I wish. I’m almost done here. We need to get home so I can finish making a few more personalized things.”

I shake my head thinking of the fully decorated home we’d stayed up late getting together. There were monsters dangling from the ceiling, hanging out on the couch, and strategically placed on the table and the kitchen counters. The red, orange, yellow, and green streamers were twisted and hung to her specifications. The menu continued along the lines with signs that matched the theme and gave cutesy names to everyday foods. I was impressed with the Sesame Street vegetable and fruit trays.

“Ollie?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we should hit up the Starbucks on the way out.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. You ready?”

“Yes, get me out of here, or I’ll continue to shop. That kid of yours is too cute for his own good. I want to buy this entire place out for him.”

I can’t help but beam. I don’t know how something so amazing came from my DNA. She caresses my chin. “Look at you, proud Papa.”

“I really lucked out. Rolly is an amazing kid.”

“You and Allie are doing an excellent job with him.”

“We’re trying.” I steer the cart out of the aisle and toward the check-out counter. T minus five hours to the party and counting.

***

“I LIKE YOU WITH HER.”

I glance over at Liv and grin. “Oh snap. Are you giving her the Livy seal of approval?” I ask as I pull the dishes out of the fridge. The kids have been running around the backyard playing monster games Quinn concocted, and I know they’re going to be ravenous soon. I smile as I recall the look of shock and awe on Rolly’s face as he entered the home and everyone yelled surprise.

The party went off without a hitch. I could see the struggle Allie went through, giving over control, but she’s getting it that Quinn is here to stay. That’s really all I can ask for.

Liv nods her head. “The two of you work well together. I can see she brings out the best in you and vice versa.”

Leaning down, I give her a light squeeze around her expanding middle. “That means a lot coming from you.”

“Only speaking the truth. Is there anything I can help with? I came in here to grab a bottle of water, but I can lend a hand.”

“No. I think Houston would kill me if he thought I was putting you to work.”

She harrumphs. “I’m pregnant, not terminal.” The fire in her brown eyes makes me laugh.

“Whoa, tiger, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m trying to stay in good standing with my boss.”

She scowls. “You two always side with one another.”

“Not always.” I grab the plate of tomatoes that looks like Elmo. “Why don’t you get the veggie tray and set it out on the table?” I ask, handing her a peace offering.

“I can do that.” She flashes me a smile and walks toward the backyard.

A moment later, Rolly runs in.

“Hey, little dude, you having fun?”

“Yes, but I have to potty now,” he says as he flies by me toward the bathroom.

I chuckle as I start to bring out the platters.

“Lunch, you guys. Time to get your hands washed. I have a stool in front of the kitchen sink and some hand soap out,” I call as cheers go up.

Quinn looks at me. Flushed and breathing hard, she’s more beautiful than ever. I want to get down on a knee and ask her to spend the rest of her life with me, but I know it’d be jumping the gun. She’s cautious. I respect it after the mess she’d been in with her previous fiancé. It’s not the right time, but one day I know it will be.

“This looks amazing, bro. Are you holding out on me at the garage? Maybe we should put you on with painting the rides,” Houston says.

“No, this was all Quinn. I’m good where I’m at, believe me,” I reply, shuddering at the thought of being forced to be creative.

My father laughs. “His artistic endeavors as a child were always quite unique.”

“That’s dad-speak for saying they sucked,” I mumble.

“No, you were the child who had green skies and yellow grass. It always stood out because you were so different from your brothers.”

“Always marched to the beat of a different drummer,” I remark with a shrug.

“Well, I definitely know where Rolly gets it from,” Allie says.

I laugh. “I don’t know. What do you think, Molly?” I ask, pulling her mother into the conversation.

“I’d say he gets a double dose,” Molly replies.

Her diplomatic answer makes me laugh. She’s good at making peace. I think it’s a by-product of having four daughters so close in age.

“Here’s the birthday boy,” I call as Rolly returns and hugs me around my legs. “You ready to eat, buddy?”

He nods his head and rubs his stomach. “I’m starving.”

Quinn comes up beside me and kisses my cheek. “Awesome party, Ollie.”

“Thanks to you,” I say as I help Rolly fill his plate.

“Hey, this was a team effort. I just helped with the creative input. You put in the manual labor.”

“Look at you nicefying that slave labor you had me putting in.”

“You’re such a baby.” She pinches my side, and I jump.

“So mean,” I whisper.

She giggles. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

My cock swells, and I clear my throat and think about cuddly puppies and cold water.

I take a seat beside my mom.

“She’s a lovely girl, Ollie.”

“Yes, she is,” I reply, watching her as she talks with Liv while Rolly eats with his friend at the kid’s table.

“I’m glad you found her. Is it serious?”

“Yeah, Ma. I think she’s the one.”

My mother’s eyes twinkle. “I had a feeling she was very special to you. How are things with your father? You seem at ease with him.”

“I’m getting there. We had some long overdue talks and ... I’m trying.”

She pats my arm. “It’s all anyone could ask, and more than I dared hope for. When you were in the hospital ... it opened my eyes to a lot of things. When I prayed, I promised the Lord I’d make things right.”

“Mom, you never did anything wrong.”

“I could’ve handled things better over the years. I own my part in the estrangement and my self-imposed isolation. You gave me the push I needed to get back onto the dating scene, and it opened up my world. We can’t control what people do, but we can control our response. I think I forgot that somewhere along the way.”

“And now you remember?” I ask, genuinely interested in her response. It’s not every day I have such a frank conversation with my mother. She tends to play her cards close to her chest.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad you’re happier and going out, Mom. You deserve it.”

Understanding flows between us and we return to our food. It’s the best family outing I’ve had in a long time. All the people I care most about are gathered here to celebrate my boy’s birthday. It doesn’t get much better than this.

A few hours later, I sink down on the side of Rolly’s bed, exhausted. The house is clean, and my little dude is fighting sleep in his brand new monster pajamas. Freshly bathed, he smells like bubble gum and baby lotion. A weird combination I’m familiar with thanks to his obsession with a particular brand of bubble bath. Tucking the cover around his body, I lean down to kiss his forehead.

“Did you have a good birthday party, buddy?”

“Yeah, it was so much fun. All the monsters and everybody came.” He gives me a tired smile and all the work poured into the short span of time is worth it.

“I’m glad. You know, Quinny went all out for you.”

“I know. I love her, Dad. Is she gonna be my second mommy?”

“What?”

“Well at school, my friend Kevin has two mommies and two daddies ’cause his parents  got a davorx. Is that going to happen?”

I roll the words over in my head before I speak. “It’s di-vorce. Would that be okay with you?”

“Yes, I love her. She’s so funny, and she plays games wif me and teaches me lots of cool stuff.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret, buddy. I think one day she will be your second mommy. But we need to keep that between us for now, okay?”

He yawns. “Okay, Daddy.”

“All right, to bed with you now.”

“Night, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I brush the hair back from his forehead and stand, quietly slipping out of the room as he drifts off.

“Is he out?” Quinn asks as I walk into out bedroom.

“Almost. How many stories did he con you into?”

She laughs. “I did three. It’s his birthday. He deserved extras.”

“Sucker.”

“Shut up. You know how adorable the kid is, you helped make him.”

“I did.” I hop onto the bed beside her. “He asked me something about you tonight,” I begin, testing the water.

“What?”

“If you were going to be his second mommy.”

She gasps. “W-what did you say?”

“You first. Tell me what you think about that.”

“Ollie, I’d be honored. I love him like he’s my own.”

“And what about his dad?”

“I love him a lot, too ... and I think maybe one day we’ll be sharing a last name.”

Leaning down, I take her lips, silently promising her we’ll get there. She moans as we deepen the kiss, and I bury my fingers in her thick curls. I slant my head, deepening my access to her sweetness. When we break apart, I roll onto my back beside her, completely spent. The lack of sleep and effort to keep up with a half dozen little people is catching up to me.

“Bedtime?” I ask.

“God, yes. How they have so much energy I’ll never know,” she says.

“Because we do all the worrying for them. Nothing exhausts you quicker than that.”

“Truth. In the words of Jack Black. The Legend of the rent is way hardcore.”

I snicker. “School of Rock?”

“Of course, it’s a classic.”

***

QUINN

A series of loud cracks jerk me from my sleep. I blink, trying to focus. My heart thumps in my chest. Sitting up, I look around.

“What’s happening?” I croak.

“I don’t—”

Something whizzes by. Cracks fill the air again. The lamp beside the bed shatters.

“Fuck, someone’s shooting.”

Ollie shoves me to the floor. The breath is knocked from my lungs. I struggle to breathe.

“Rolly.” He’s on his feet and running. The shots grow closer. I low crawl from the bedroom and into the hallway. Once there I scramble on my hands and knees to the bedroom. In the doorway I cry out as fire explodes in my side. I peer down to find my shirt blossoming with a red stain.

“Quinn.”

I glance over to the side of the bed where Ollie has his arms wrapped around Rolly.

“I’m fine,” “I whisper, applying pressure to the flesh wound. I’ve been nicked, but my main concern is Rolly.

The tinkle of breaking glass thrusts me into a state of panic. They’re moving closer.

“Get in the closet,” Ollie says. We run for the closed-off space as bullets continue to whizz by.

I fall back on my butt, and he shoves Rolly in my arms and wraps his body around us both. There’s nothing to do but wait. The police must have been called by now. This neighborhood is quiet, and the sense of community is tightknit. I rock back and forth as the shots continue, hissing when another streak of fire hits me from the back. My eyes water and Rolly cries out in pain. The shots are so close together it sounds like thunder. Debris hits the ground, and the smell of smoke fills my nostrils. Suddenly, everything stops. The silence is more frightening than the chaos. Tires squeal out. Stickiness coats my body.

“Quinn,” Ollie barks.

I blink up at him, slightly confused.

“Oh my God, you’re bleeding. Rolly?”

He pushes away from me, and I slump against the wall.

“Rolly.” The strangled scream rips my heart out. I glance down at the child. He’s too still, and his breathing is shallow. His lips are turning blue.

“Rolly,” I rasp.

Ollie flips him onto his back and pats his face. “Hey. Time to wake up, little dude.” His chest isn’t moving. My lower lip trembles. I begin to wonder if the blood on my shirt is mine. He rips the top up and reveals the bullet wound, bubbling blood.

“What do I do, Quinn? Please, God, help me.”

“Apply pressure.” I pray I’m telling him the right thing as the wail of the sirens grows closer.

Ignoring the pain, I kneel beside Rolly and hold his small hand. I close my eyes. Please, God, don’t take him. He has barely had time to live.

“You told me this would happen. God. Why didn’t I listen? You were right, and now all of this is my fault.” His voice shakes as he rocks back and forth, clutching Rolly’s limp frame in his arms. Tears obscure my vision, and I struggle to remain upright and alert. My tongue is thick, my mouth is dry, and I’m unable to give words of comfort. I wobble as the world spins around me.

“Quinn?”

I slump back against the wall.

“Dizzy.” I lick my lips. My lids grow heavy.

“No. Don’t you pass out on me.”

I blink and fight against the blackness.

“Fuck.”

The splintering of the door is the last thing I hear before I slip into the blackness.

***

I WAKE BIT BY BIT, registering a steady beep and a hum. I pry my heavy lids open, squinting as a bright light pierces my eyes like razors, and wince.

“She’s awake.”

A muffled voice that sounds suspiciously like my mother’s reaches me.

“Mom?”

“Shh, just relax. You’ve been through a lot.”

I gasp as my memory reboots. “Rolly. Ollie.” I try to sit up and cry out as pain explodes in my body.

“Easy, sugarplum, your body’s been through a traumatic event.”

“Are they okay?”

The pregnant pause fills my belly with dread.

I blink, trying to orient myself. “Mom,” I say sternly.

“Rolly ... died on the way to the hospital.” My father’s voice is so soft I almost don’t hear him.

“No. No. No,” I scream.

“You have to calm down, baby.” My mom’s eyes fill with tears.

“I want Ollie. I need to see him.”

A nurse runs in. “You have to calm down, Ms. Fleming.”

“Where is he?” I yell as my emotions swirl together. “Did they come back to finish the job? How’s he handling all of this? I should be with him.” My voice crackles like cellophane as I continue to sob.

“I’m going to have to sedate you if you don’t stop.”

“He’s grieving right now,” my father says, grasping my hand.

“I should be there.” A wave of lethargy begins to sweep over me. I glance over at the nurse and find she’s added something to my I.V.

“The best thing for you right now is rest,” the nurse says.

Tears roll down my face as I slump down onto my pillow.

***

THE FEEL OF A GENTLE hand in my hair wakes me. I blink and find Ollie beside my bed, as pale as a ghost, and haggard. Dark circles stand out under his eyes, and his beard is scraggly and unkempt. Our gazes meet. The pain filling his blue depths slice me open and let me bleed out. I lick my lips and clear my throat.

“I had to see you and make sure you were okay with my own eyes. To touch you.”

Emotions clog my throat. I don’t know how to respond.

“You almost saved him. The bullet that hit you was slowed down, but the full metal jacket was too much for his body to handle.” The tears well up in my eyes. “You’re safe. I made sure of that. There are detectives outside your room. I told them you were going to testify. It’s the only way I could make sure you were safe. Not that it matters anymore. They’ve taken everything from me.” He fists my hair.

“Not me,” I whisper.

“The only thing you get when you’re with me is hurt. I can’t have that on my conscience.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying good-bye, sassy. I’ll always love you. It’s why I—”

“Bullshit.”

He blinks. I see him snap out of his stupor.

“What?”

“You’re shocked, hurting, and not thinking straight. I’ve always called you on your bullshit.”

His nostrils flare and I know I’ve reached him, even if it’s in anger.

“I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“When have I ever asked you to do that?”

“My fuck up got Roland killed. I can’t live through that with you, too. I can’t.” His voice raises, and I jerk. The broken tone brings me to tears.

I grip his hand with mine. “We said we were in this together. I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I hear you, but right now ...” Bending, he kisses my hand. “I’m in a dark place, sassy. I’m not so far gone I can’t see it, but I sure as hell can’t do anything but focus on breathing.” He breathes heavily as if it took a great effort for him to admit.

Maybe it did.

“You’re not alone in this. I’m here.”

He cups the side of my face. “Exactly. I can’t stay in the house. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done, and I just ...” He shudders.

“Where are you?”

“In a hotel. It’s probably safer.”

“Are the cops looking after you?”

He shakes his head and my concern increases.

“Why do I have one if you don’t?”

“You’re in a public place.”

He glances away, and I can’t help but feel like he’s lying. I want to call him on it, but my energy is waning.

“You should rest.”

“Where are you going?” I ask, hating the need so audible in my voice.

“I have arrangements to make.”

I close my eyes. He’s talking about Rolly’s funeral.

“Is there ... Can I help?”

He shakes his head. “It’s best we keep you and Allie apart. When you get out, we’ll do something together.”

I glance down at the sheet feeling rejected. In the span of a heartbeat, everything changed. The future’s uncertain, and so is my place in his life.

He bends down and brushes our lips together in a sweet kiss tainted by sadness and what feels too much like good-bye.

“Focus on getting better and getting out of here for me, please.”

I feel his very spirit retreat as he pulls away, straightens, and walks out of the room. A cavern I don’t know how to traverse has formed between us. I wasn’t a parent, and as much as I loved Rolly, I had no inclining of what this must feel like for him ... or Allie for that matter. She blamed me for what happened to Ollie, so I can only imagine what she said about this. Hell, maybe she’s right. I grip the railings of the bed while I fight the urge to break down. That never got anyone anywhere. Step one, get better, get out, and fight like hell for the things that matter most.

***

I’M PROPPED UP WHEN Detective Kunes enters the room.

“I have to say you look much better than the last time I saw you, Ms. Fleming.”

“I feel better, too.”

“Mr. Hemnway tells me you plan to testify in the case.”

“I want them for all they’ve done.”

He nods. “Our case is strong with your testimony, even if it’s just you.”

“What?”

“Mr. Hemnway hasn’t returned any of our calls. We’ve counted him out.”

Gritting my teeth, I shake my head. “He’s burying his son.”

“I understand that. I sympathize with him. A man isn’t meant to bury his child. It should always be the other way around. But our lawyers can’t build a case around someone who might be a no show.” The detective shakes his head, and expression I can’t quite read upon his face. “We advised him he’d be safest under our protection, but he declined.”

“He said no?”

“No, but I took his silence as answer enough.”

Images of him lying dead in a pool of his own blood fill my head. I hadn’t talked to him in days. Efia kept me posted remotely. I know he’d buried Rolly, so I’d backed off and let him have his solitude. Stupid.

“And if he changed his mind?”

“Then we’d be more than happy to accommodate him. We don’t want this guy to walk.”

“Detective Kunes, I need a day. Twenty-four hours and I’ll do whatever it is you’d like me to do until this thing goes to trial. But I can’t leave him out in the wind right now.”

He sighs. “You think you can get him on board?”

“I will get him on board.”

“Twenty-four hours and not a moment more. You cannot return to your home or that of any of your relatives during this time period.”

“I understand.”

“And you’ll be followed every minute around the clock.”

I grit my teeth. “Okay.”

“Tomorrow you’ll leave to go into custody at eight a.m. sharp.”

“Happily.”

“I’ll inform the officers outside the door.”

“Thank you, Detective Kunes.” He walks away, and I grab the phone off the nightstand. I hit speed dial and wait. The phone rings until it goes to voice mail. My anxiety spikes. Houston will know. I dial up his best friend.

“Quinn?”

“Hey, Houston, I haven’t been able to get a hold of Ollie, and I’m worried.”

“Are you still in the hospital?”

“Yes, for maybe another hour or so.”

“He’s uh ... He’s not doing too well. I know how good he can be at hiding things from people, and he pulled his shit together enough to visit you, but he’s ... he’s on a bender. Every time I see him, he’s drunk and dark, and I don’t know how to help him. I have my hands full over here, and he’s pushing me away at every turn.”

“Houston, how bad are we talking?”

“Force him to shower and eat bad. I’m worried if we let this go too far for too long, we won’t get him back.”

“Can you tell me where he is?”

“I’m not sure you should head over there, Quinn.”

“Houston, you tell me he’s on his last leg, and you think I’m going to watch him implode from afar?”

“He’s not himself.”

“I can handle it,” I snap.

He sighs. “He’s at the Omni at Park West, room two-eleven.”

“Thank you, Houston.”

“You can thank me by not holding what comes out of his mouth against him when he sobers up. He’s lashing out. It’s kept everyone except me and his father at bay.”

“I have a thick hide.” My poor Ollie is in a tailspin.

“You’re going to need it. I’m here if you need muscle.”

“You know about the case we have coming up. Don’t be alarmed if we fall off the radar. It’ll be for protection purposes.”

“Thank God. I’ve been worried about them coming back to finish the job, but every time I bring it up, he shuts me down.”

“He would. I think he blames himself for all of it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know ... for the same reason I feel guilty that he got shot, I guess. Human emotions don’t always make sense. I need to go. I’ll keep you posted as much as I can.”

***

OLLIE

The knock on the door makes my head hurt even worse. Can’t the maid see the do not disturb sign? I roll onto my back and stare up the ceiling. The knocking continues. I groan.

“I don’t need any towels,” I croak.

The knock returns. Jesus, Houston. Don’t you have a family to tend to? The thought rips open the festering wound, and I growl. Pushing myself to my feet, I stumble toward the door. I peer out the eye hole, wishing it was a gangster on the other side ready to put me out of my misery. How can I live knowing I got my son killed? I gasp and shake my head to clear away the liquor when I spot Quinn. Dressed in black tights and an oversized, off-the-shoulder cream sweater, she’s a fucking vision. How is she here? I open the door cautiously. Maybe the mixture of alcohol and no sleep are finally getting to me.

“Quinn?”

She brushes past me and walks inside like she owns the place. Yeah, I’m not dreaming. I glance down the hall and spot two men in gray suits by the elevator.

“Who?”

“I had to bring security detail. It as part of the deal.”

Scrubbing my face with my hand, I try to piecemeal together her words. “What?”

“My deal with Detective Kunes. In twenty-four hours, I’m officially going into protective custody, and you’re coming with me.”

“What?” I snort. “No, I’m not.”

“If you aren’t, then I’m not, which means that son of a bitch gets to walk away scot-free. Is that what you want?”

I shrug my shoulders. How fucked up would it be for me to be safe when I didn’t do the same for Rolly? I should suffer the same fate.

“What the hell, Oliver?”

“You can’t begin to understand what I’m going through.”

“So, tell me.”

I snarl. “What do you want me to say? That I hate myself and I can barely stand to look in the mirror? That I don’t deserve to be protected when I failed my son so miserably? You told me over and over again about the risks, but I didn’t listen. And look where it got us. All of us. I damn near lost you both that night. Because of what? My pride? Fuck.” I yank at my hair and stumble across the room, collapsing on the couch. “Let me get what I deserve.”

“No. None of this is on you. Isn’t that what you told me?” She falls to her knees in front of me.

I look over her shoulder, avoiding the hypnotic pull of her gaze. “Your case is different.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Did you lose a child, Quinn?” I bark.

I feel her flinch. “No. I get that you’re upset. You want to rage at the world? Do it. You want to grieve? I’m by your side. But if you want to destroy yourself and do things I know you’ll live to regret later, I have to speak up.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t need to.”

“Damnit, Quinn, I don’t want to be saved. Just leave me.” The words bounce off the high ceilings.

“Too bad. Because I’m just as stubborn as you are, and I aim to make them pay for the shit they pulled. Right now we’re marionettes dangling on strings. They pull, and we jerk. They change the background settings, and we’re fucked.” She slaps the couch cushions beside me “No more, Oliver.”

I peer down at her and see the determination. She believes what she’s saying. I wish I could, too.

“Don’t you get it yet? We’re powerless against them. They have kamikaze humans who don’t mind exploding on contact.”

“I refuse to believe that. We’ve let them have enough power over us.”

I shake my head. There was a time when I’d believe her, but now I’m too damn tired. So weary the very core of my being hurts. Every day I go to sleep, I wake up to a nightmare when I don’t remember Rolly is gone. Then it all comes back, and I relive everything. I feel like my brain is going to explode.

“Quinn, I’m not a whole man anymore. The Ollie you knew is dead, and he’s never coming back.”

“Maybe not, but there are pieces of him that still exist under the surface. I can see them. No matter how you try to suppress him.” She grips my shirt lapels and yanks. “Now we’re going to get you in the shower because you stink and I won’t even try to guess how much alcohol you have swimming through your veins. This’ll help sober you up.”

I swat her hands away. “I don’t want to be sober. This is the only way I can function. Through a fucking haze. Because what I feel is a never-ending wave of pain, guilt, and remembering all at the same time. Would you want to be on the receiving end of that?”

She shakes her head as the tears stream down her face. I’m numb, angry, and using everything inside of me not to bite her head off.

“I-I am so, so sorry.” Her shoulders shake as she rests her head against my forehead and cups the back of my head. Her gentleness breaks the wall I’ve built up inside of me.

Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her tight. “Roland’s dead and I’m never going to see him again.” The words spill forth, and I can’t stop them. “Oh my God, what am I going to do without my little boy? He never hurt anyone. Why him? He was going to do great things. Now I’ll never see any of it. He was the best thing I ever did in my entire life, and now he’s just gone.” I slump against her, and we sink to the ground together.

I purge until there’s nothing left. My stomach rolls, and I pull away and dash to the bathroom. I hit my knees and empty my stomach. She’s there, an angel I don’t deserve with a cool washcloth on the back of my neck. I flush the toilet, and she wipes my mouth and runs a bath. I hate to see myself through her eyes. I’m a pitiful excuse for a man. I couldn’t even keep my family safe. Family. As she strips me down, I realize I count her as that. So I let her scrape me up off the floor and get me into the pool of warm water. She touches me gently as she washes me down and I mentally cling to her. I failed Rolly. I can’t do the same with her, too. I can’t walk away until this is all said and done and she’s safe. I cling to the mission.

She sheds her clothes, adds more hot water, and lays on my chest. The skin to skin contact makes me think maybe one day things will be okay.

***

I ROLL HER ONTO HER back and pull her onto my lap, careful to remain gentle. She presses her palms to my chest and rolls her hips, grinding into my crotch.

“Are you okay to do this?” I ask shakily.

“I guess so, ’cause we’re going to. It’s the last chance we’ll have before we have permanent guests.” She wraps her arms around my neck, and toys with the hair at my nape. Her touch is a calming agent among the chaos living in my brain. I pull her close and run my hand up her back, careful not to press into the bandages I helped her change. We’ve reversed our roles. Now I’m the mental wreck, and she’s the wounded one in need of care. I massage her neck and flinch as she reaches down and palms me, stroking my cock.

I shiver when she grips my base and eases down onto me. I grab her hips, helping her lift and lower as I watch her full breasts bounce. Her hair falls around her slender face and her full lips part. Arching her back, she flexes her muscles. My eyes almost roll back in my head. It’s been weeks since we did this.

Right now she’s my anchor, the only thing that’s keeping me from becoming a ghost and wasting away into nothing. I want to show her all the things I can’t say because the words get caught in my throat. She held me all night, playing the big spoon while I sobered up and slept a dreamless sleep. The love in her eyes is more than I deserve, but I’m greedy, and in desperate need of something good, so I hold it tight between my hands. The base of my spine tingles and I know I won’t last long. She lifts and drops down over, and over. I twitch and go off like a gun, giving her everything I have to offer. She owns what remains of me.

She collapses onto my chest.

“You okay, sassy?”

“I will be once I regain feeling in my legs.”

I smirk as I smooth a hand down her back and peer at her bandage; no leaking and she doesn’t appear to be in pain. I rest my head against her, soaking up the moments.

Suddenly, reality crushes down on me like a boulder. Rolly. My mood shifts and I grow cold from the inside out, retreating back into my shell. I slowly ease her off me, and slip from the bed. Guilt kicks in. How can I be enjoying her when Rolly is six feet deep? My stomach flips as I think of the empty void left behind. How can he be gone? I just kissed him goodnight and celebrated his birthday. My flesh grows chilled and time seems to slow.

“Ollie?”

I blink. “Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

I refocus my attention to the task at hand and the woman staring at me. Clearing my throat, I glance at the clock and read the highlighted, digitized numbers.

“I’m going to get dressed and start packing. I know you said they want us checked out and on the move to our new location by eight o’clock, and it’s seven o’clock now.” Padding over to the couch where my duffle bag sits, I pull out the first fresh outfit I’ve put on since Rolly’s funeral—black jeans, a matching long-sleeved Henley T-shirt, and a pair of black boxer briefs. The muted tones fit my dark mood. I don’t want to invite others to approach me. I slip the outfit on one article at a time.

I hear Quinn moving around behind me, but I can’t force myself to turn and engage her. It’s like I’m viewing life through a fog that makes movement and socialization hard to accomplish. The light she’d shone on me is blocked by the permanent layer of clouds surrounding me. I fold and pack mechanically until my bag is full, and then move into the bathroom with my toiletry bag.

“Are you upset with me?”

Frowning, I turn to face her. “No. Why?”

“You got so quiet. I-I wasn’t sure if maybe it was something I’d done.”

“This is me now, Quinn. The sadness comes and goes in waves, each bigger than the one before it. This is why I shut myself away here. I don’t want to be asked if I’m okay. I’m not. And I won’t be for a very long time. I don’t need to drag anyone else down this hole with me.”

“Yet, here I am, ready to take that ride with you over rough terrain.”

Deep down I appreciate her tenacity. I want to thank her, but my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth. Here in my hotel room, I could block out everything. Cocooned during my liquor-fueled bender, I was a blank slate. I could hardly tell day from the night as the dates blurred together. Now I’m being thrust into a real world environment where my son no longer exists. It’s a pain like nothing I’ve felt before. I’m being eaten from the inside out one bite a time by a million ravenous fire ants.

Peering down at the counter, I grab my toothbrush and other incidentals. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Nothing.” The hurt in her voice is an accelerant.

“I didn’t ask you to be here.”

“I never said you did, Ollie.” The soft-spoken tone crawls under my skin.

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“No. I wish to God I did.”

I toss a bottle of travel shampoo across the room. It slams into the wall, and onto the floor. The pop is so satisfying I do it again and again, pitching like I’m trying to win the World Series until my breathing is heavy, my arm aches, and there’s nothing left to throw. Puddles of various liquids coat the floor in small pools. The destruction feeds the rage inside of me and slinks back beneath the surface, satisfied for a time. My chest rises and falls rapidly.

Her eyes are so wide I can see the black rings around her shrunken irises.

“Still along for the journey?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

For how long. The question goes unsaid as a knock comes at the door. I tense.

“Stay here.”

“Ollie.”

“No. You stay here crouched beside the tub.”

Her lower lip trembles, as she complies. I jog out of the bathroom to the door and peer out the peephole. The sight of two men in black suits allows me to breathe once more. Still suspicious, I hold my breath. Have they changed their contact and decided to blend in?

They knock again. “Open up, Ms. Fleming.”

“Who’s there?” I ask, ready to step in and protect her with my last breath. I couldn’t save Rolly. I’ll be damned if I fail Quinn a second time.

“Officers Carter and Johnson, Mr. Hemnway.” They pull out their black wallets and flash their badges. They look legit and match the names she’d mentioned.

“It’s clear, Quinn. You can come out.”

I open the door and step back, letting them in.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hemngway. We’ll be looking after you for the next month. I understand you’ll be joining us?”

“Yes. I’m all packed. I just need to do one last sweep.” I brush past Quinn on my way to the bathroom, grab a towel, and clean up my mess. It’s not the housekeepers’ job to clean up after my outburst. The release felt good, but I’m embarrassed by my behavior now. After tossing the towel in the sink, I walk out to find Quinn speaking quietly with the officers.

In their late thirties, early forties, neither can be much older than us. I frown at the way the muscular blond is leaning into her and admiring the fit of her T-shirt and jeans. The tall, broad-shouldered jock type with a streak of gray hair looks over at me. I meet his dark brown gaze and nod. It’s no secret we’re involved. I’ve been absent lately, but having them share our space is bringing out my protective instincts. I have very little left to lose. I grab my bag, sling it over my shoulder, and pick hers up off the bed.

“You got everything, sassy?”

She blinks. “I do. Thank you.”  

I kiss her temple.

Officer Carter, the blond one, clears his throat. Yes, she’s pretty, but she’s taken as hell. “If you’re ready, we can escort you to check out. If you have to make any phone calls, I suggest you do it now. It’ll be the last time you’re allowed to contact anyone until after the trial, and your phones will be turned off, and confiscated. Once we leave this hotel, you’ll be taken to a safe house with a secure location. That safety hinges on your complete cooperation.” The words feel directed toward me.

I raise an eyebrow. “I understand.”

“We understand how important it is to follow the rules, Carter,” Quinn says.

“I understand that stress and isolation can make you forget that we’re only here to keep you safe.”

Is this asshole referring to the death of my son as something as simple as stress? A knot forms in my stomach. Rage creeps up, and I force it back down.

“Let’s talk about the elephant in the room. Yes, I’m a grieving father, but no I’m not going to allow that to jeopardize the woman I love or the one chance I have at making the monsters who did this to him pay. I can tell by your comment you don’t have children, do you?”

“No, Mr. Hemngway, I don’t.”

“Then don’t pretend to have a clue what it feels like or how it might affect me because it’s insulting. This is a pain I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. We’re not meant to bury our children. It’s against the natural order of things. My boy was four, with his entire life ahead of him. Show some respect for that.”

His jaw ticks as I stare him down.

“We’re sorry if it felt like we were making light of your son’s death in any way, Mr. Hemnway. We’ve just had our positions compromised too many times to not try to pound the rules into everyone’s skull we protect. It’s not personal,” Officer Johnson says.

So he’s the good cop, at least when it comes to me.

“And I get that. I know you’re here to do a job. I’m not trying to make it any more difficult for you than it already is.”

“And we appreciate that,” Officer Johnson adds.

Quinn rests her head on my shoulder, silently lending me support.

“We should get going. The sooner we get you guys settled, the better,” Carter says.

It doesn’t escape me that he didn’t apologize. I’m not a man who holds a grudge, but I have a lengthy memory.