I didn’t wait for a reply; I just stormed out of his office and into Tiny’s waiting car. I’d lied through my teeth, but the shit I’d said was what was expected of me—a controlled facade and indestructible armor.
Only it wasn’t indestructible.
And the girl in my house was proof of that.
10
Nate
Two weeks. That’s how long we’d been living under the same roof, barely breathing a word to each other. During the day, I’d go to work, set up meets, and organize the next round of supplies. Before she moved in, I’d occasionally work from home, crunch numbers from the comfort of my couch, but having her here made it seem like I was doing something wrong. Technically, I was. But it had never even occurred to me until there was a threat of someone knowing my business. Plus, being out and about meant I was able to keep my eyes and ears open. I needed to know if any more suspicions were raised or if PJ was still talking shit.
So, for two weeks we tiptoed around each other. Every night I’d come home, and she’d be in her room, wearing my clothes, under the covers but wide awake. I’d bring her food. We’d eat in silence. And every night, I’d go to sleep wondering what the hell was going on in her pretty little head, and why it was I could never get the nerve to ask.
*
I sat down on the couch and turned on my laptop. Then I started the rounds of passwords needed to actually gain access to anything. Tiny had set it up. See—Tiny wasn’t the toughest guy on the team. He sure as shit wasn’t the strongest or the fittest. I chose him as my right-hand because he was smart, especially with technology. But above that, I chose him because he was loyal, because he had the same morals and ethics as I did. Even at sixteen, when I first met him peddling drugs at a corner store, I could tell. I knew, not because he was dealing drugs, but because he chased after some thug who’d snatched an old lady’s purse. He ended up sitting on the dude’s stomach and bitch-slapping his face until he apologized to her. It was one of the funniest things I’d ever seen.
Tiny—he was a good man.
He was also my best friend.
After typing in my first password, Voi siete il mio sole, and repeating that same action about thirty times, I finally logged into the site. Sure it seemed dumb to keep our business online, but Tiny had found a way to keep it completely hidden. To anyone who’d, by some miracle, actually get into the site, we’d just be a bunch of too-bored middle schoolers exchanging online gaming scores and trading weapons and whatnot. But what it really was, was a way for the peddlers to let me know what they’d sold in the last twenty-four hours. I clicked on PJ’s profile first, like I’d started to do every time I logged on, hoping he’d be selling below target, so I had an excuse to let him go. Unfortunately, PJ was our best seller—which was why I couldn’t straight up off him. Against his best-laid plans, things had calmed down a little since the day after Bailey had shot Pauly. Though he kept on about it, adamant that she was still around. “Why the fuck would he take me home instead of letting me watch? Hell, I would have done it for him,” he’d told anyone that’d listen.
I wanted him gone, and by gone, I meant the Pauly type gone.
Time.
I just needed time.
When all this blew over, and she was far away, I’d deal with him then.
*
Tiny called, told me he was on his way with some urgent news but didn’t want to tell me over the phone, so as soon as he hung up I checked the news websites.
And there it was.
A fishing boat had found Pauly’s body.
No more than five minutes later, Tiny called again. I didn’t bother answering; I just opened the door for him. “I just saw,” I told him.
“You know what that means, right?” he said, stepping into my house.
It was a Sunday, and it was early. Way too early for me to be thinking straight. Luckily, Tiny didn’t work off a clock. He worked off my schedule, which was why I paid him more than I paid myself. “I’m still wrapping my head around it.”
“They only found one body, Nate. You told Benny you’d dumped them both.”
Bailey’s bedroom door opened, and she stepped out, her features softening when she saw Tiny. She asked him, “Can I talk to you?”
He nodded.
“In private?”
I crossed my arms. Whatever she needed to say should be said in front of me. It was my fucking house she was living in.
Tiny must have sensed my disapproval because he said, “There are no secrets here.”
Her face fell, her frown was all-consuming. She switched her weight from one foot to the other while seeming to contemplate. After a moment of silence, she said, “I have my period. I need stuff.”
I headed for my room. “Give Tiny a list of what you need. We’ll take care of it. When we get back, we need to talk.”
*
“You ever wonder what she does during the day?” I asked Tiny as he picked up a box of what I assumed were tampons.
“Obviously you do. You also have surveillance cameras set up throughout the house. You could always spy.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it’s a Sunday. Day of rest. Why don’t you spend the day at home and find out,” he mumbled, distracted by the box.
Bailey didn’t have much on her list. Pads, tampons, socks and underwear. That was it.
Tiny’s eyes moved from left to right as he skimmed the words on the box of tampons. “How is this a sixteen pack?” He lowered the box to his crotch as if comparing the size of the tampons to his cock.
I shook my head at him. “You’re such a dick.”
He looked around the store and called out, “Yo!”
A girl packing shelves a few feet away looked up.
“Can you help with these?” Tiny asked.
The girl stood from her squatting position and made her way over.
Tiny asked, “How does this work? Will this fill her?”
“It’s not—” The girl’s face contorted into a look of disgust. “The sizes are based on flow.”
“Flow?” Tiny asked, clearly confused.
“Maybe you should just get her one of each, just to be safe.”
“They come in singles?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head and picked up three different boxes off the shelf. “That should do her.”
“She said I needed to get pads, too.”
The girl grabbed a few different packets and handed them all to him. “Anything else?”
“No.”
She started to walk away, but Tiny yelled out, “Do these have an expiration date?”
“No,” the girl said, becoming impatient with his lack of knowledge.
“Can I buy a carton of each?”
“What?”
Tiny shrugged. “She doesn’t get out much.”
“Whatever. Meet me at the registers.” She walked away, mumbling something about feeling sorry for his girlfriend.
*
“What the hell are we doing in here?” I asked Tiny, my eyes scanning the skimpy outfits inside the lingerie store.
“She said she needed underwear.”
“Surely we could just buy a bulk pack and move on.”
Tiny shrugged. “I don’t know, Boss. She’s had a shitty life, and it’s only gonna get shittier. She deserves to have at least one nice thing.”
Only it wasn’t indestructible.
And the girl in my house was proof of that.
10
Nate
Two weeks. That’s how long we’d been living under the same roof, barely breathing a word to each other. During the day, I’d go to work, set up meets, and organize the next round of supplies. Before she moved in, I’d occasionally work from home, crunch numbers from the comfort of my couch, but having her here made it seem like I was doing something wrong. Technically, I was. But it had never even occurred to me until there was a threat of someone knowing my business. Plus, being out and about meant I was able to keep my eyes and ears open. I needed to know if any more suspicions were raised or if PJ was still talking shit.
So, for two weeks we tiptoed around each other. Every night I’d come home, and she’d be in her room, wearing my clothes, under the covers but wide awake. I’d bring her food. We’d eat in silence. And every night, I’d go to sleep wondering what the hell was going on in her pretty little head, and why it was I could never get the nerve to ask.
*
I sat down on the couch and turned on my laptop. Then I started the rounds of passwords needed to actually gain access to anything. Tiny had set it up. See—Tiny wasn’t the toughest guy on the team. He sure as shit wasn’t the strongest or the fittest. I chose him as my right-hand because he was smart, especially with technology. But above that, I chose him because he was loyal, because he had the same morals and ethics as I did. Even at sixteen, when I first met him peddling drugs at a corner store, I could tell. I knew, not because he was dealing drugs, but because he chased after some thug who’d snatched an old lady’s purse. He ended up sitting on the dude’s stomach and bitch-slapping his face until he apologized to her. It was one of the funniest things I’d ever seen.
Tiny—he was a good man.
He was also my best friend.
After typing in my first password, Voi siete il mio sole, and repeating that same action about thirty times, I finally logged into the site. Sure it seemed dumb to keep our business online, but Tiny had found a way to keep it completely hidden. To anyone who’d, by some miracle, actually get into the site, we’d just be a bunch of too-bored middle schoolers exchanging online gaming scores and trading weapons and whatnot. But what it really was, was a way for the peddlers to let me know what they’d sold in the last twenty-four hours. I clicked on PJ’s profile first, like I’d started to do every time I logged on, hoping he’d be selling below target, so I had an excuse to let him go. Unfortunately, PJ was our best seller—which was why I couldn’t straight up off him. Against his best-laid plans, things had calmed down a little since the day after Bailey had shot Pauly. Though he kept on about it, adamant that she was still around. “Why the fuck would he take me home instead of letting me watch? Hell, I would have done it for him,” he’d told anyone that’d listen.
I wanted him gone, and by gone, I meant the Pauly type gone.
Time.
I just needed time.
When all this blew over, and she was far away, I’d deal with him then.
*
Tiny called, told me he was on his way with some urgent news but didn’t want to tell me over the phone, so as soon as he hung up I checked the news websites.
And there it was.
A fishing boat had found Pauly’s body.
No more than five minutes later, Tiny called again. I didn’t bother answering; I just opened the door for him. “I just saw,” I told him.
“You know what that means, right?” he said, stepping into my house.
It was a Sunday, and it was early. Way too early for me to be thinking straight. Luckily, Tiny didn’t work off a clock. He worked off my schedule, which was why I paid him more than I paid myself. “I’m still wrapping my head around it.”
“They only found one body, Nate. You told Benny you’d dumped them both.”
Bailey’s bedroom door opened, and she stepped out, her features softening when she saw Tiny. She asked him, “Can I talk to you?”
He nodded.
“In private?”
I crossed my arms. Whatever she needed to say should be said in front of me. It was my fucking house she was living in.
Tiny must have sensed my disapproval because he said, “There are no secrets here.”
Her face fell, her frown was all-consuming. She switched her weight from one foot to the other while seeming to contemplate. After a moment of silence, she said, “I have my period. I need stuff.”
I headed for my room. “Give Tiny a list of what you need. We’ll take care of it. When we get back, we need to talk.”
*
“You ever wonder what she does during the day?” I asked Tiny as he picked up a box of what I assumed were tampons.
“Obviously you do. You also have surveillance cameras set up throughout the house. You could always spy.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it’s a Sunday. Day of rest. Why don’t you spend the day at home and find out,” he mumbled, distracted by the box.
Bailey didn’t have much on her list. Pads, tampons, socks and underwear. That was it.
Tiny’s eyes moved from left to right as he skimmed the words on the box of tampons. “How is this a sixteen pack?” He lowered the box to his crotch as if comparing the size of the tampons to his cock.
I shook my head at him. “You’re such a dick.”
He looked around the store and called out, “Yo!”
A girl packing shelves a few feet away looked up.
“Can you help with these?” Tiny asked.
The girl stood from her squatting position and made her way over.
Tiny asked, “How does this work? Will this fill her?”
“It’s not—” The girl’s face contorted into a look of disgust. “The sizes are based on flow.”
“Flow?” Tiny asked, clearly confused.
“Maybe you should just get her one of each, just to be safe.”
“They come in singles?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head and picked up three different boxes off the shelf. “That should do her.”
“She said I needed to get pads, too.”
The girl grabbed a few different packets and handed them all to him. “Anything else?”
“No.”
She started to walk away, but Tiny yelled out, “Do these have an expiration date?”
“No,” the girl said, becoming impatient with his lack of knowledge.
“Can I buy a carton of each?”
“What?”
Tiny shrugged. “She doesn’t get out much.”
“Whatever. Meet me at the registers.” She walked away, mumbling something about feeling sorry for his girlfriend.
*
“What the hell are we doing in here?” I asked Tiny, my eyes scanning the skimpy outfits inside the lingerie store.
“She said she needed underwear.”
“Surely we could just buy a bulk pack and move on.”
Tiny shrugged. “I don’t know, Boss. She’s had a shitty life, and it’s only gonna get shittier. She deserves to have at least one nice thing.”
