Redemptive
Page 15

 Jay McLean

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Nate took the box from my hand and removed the gold bracelet, the tiny charms all coming into view. A star. A sun. A rainbow. A car. And about half a dozen others I hadn’t quite made out yet. “I figure you miss the outside world. It’s not much, I know, but maybe having these close to you will make the days go by a little easier.” He laughed once, but it was sad. “It’s dumb now that I think about it. It’ll just make you miss it more.” He grasped my hand and pulled it to him, then proceeded to clasp the bracelet around my wrist. “Do you like it?” he asked, his gaze lifting to mine, his eyebrows arched a little as he waited for my response.
And then it happened.
A single tear.
A single shaky exhale.
A single sob.
All of it escaped me at once.
I hadn’t meant to let it go.
“Why?” I choked out. “Why would you do this for me?”
His head dropped forward, his shoulders heaving with his breath. When he looked back up, his expression had changed. His jaw was tense; his lips thinned to a line. But his eyes… his eyes held a fear that had me struggling for air.
He got up quickly and held his hand out for me.
I took it.
Then he led me to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle—whiskey, I read—and poured two glasses. He offered one to me, and I accepted.
He drank his, and just as I started to lift mine, his hand covered mine around the glass. “Just wait. I need to get this out,” he rushed out.
I nodded.
And I waited.
He took another drink.
I sat up on the counter.
He watched me watch him.
Neither looking away.
He rubbed his eyes, which had become bloodshot and distant.
Another drink.
Finally, he said, “That room at the end of the hallway was my parents’.”
“Where are they?”
“Dead, Bailey. They’re dead.” He poured another glass, but he didn’t drink it this time. He just stared at it. “My mom died when I was ten. She used to sing that song to me—the same one you sang when I was holding a gun to your head. Every night we’d sing it together, and she’d tell me she loved me.” His teeth clamped shut and anger flamed in his eyes. “She even made me sing it out loud while I was locked in my closet and she was being raped in the room next to me.”
I felt the sob reach my throat again. I didn’t deserve to cry. “Nate…”
“I didn’t know what was happening… not until years later. But at the time… I couldn’t save her, Bailey…”
I reached up and moved his hair away from his beautiful eyes, and I realized what caused the fear I’d seen in them earlier. I cupped the side of his face, and he looked up, his gaze penetrating mine. “How old were you?” I asked.

“Seven.”
“You were just a kid…”
He leaned into my touch, coming closer and resting his head on my shoulder. I combed my fingers through his hair, stroking gently, hoping to comfort him somehow.
Soft and warm, his hands found my legs, and he stood between them. The warmth of his breath on my chest had my fingers curling in his hair. “But I’m not a kid anymore, Bailey,” he whispered. “And now… now you have to let me save you.”
We held each other, my hands in his hair stroking gently, him between my legs and his arms around my waist, gripping my shirt in his clenched fists. There was nothing sexual about it. It was comforting in a way I hadn’t felt in years, and after a while, he pulled back, giving me a half-smile that turned my insides to dust. I’d tried hard to ignore my attraction to him, to push those thoughts out of my head. But in that moment, the way he was looking at me, the way his hands rested gently on my thighs… I couldn’t deny it. “We almost forgot your cake,” he said, shaking his head and backing away toward the fridge. “That would’ve been a shame.”
We ate cake.
He told me about how it took him and Tiny two hours to pick one. Not because they were fussy, but because Tiny wanted to taste every single one. Three times each.
It made me laugh, something I hadn’t known I’d been missing, and his eyes lit up at the sound of it. And just like that, my life didn’t seem so dark anymore.
 
 
14
 

Bailey
I was two steps away from his doorway when my legs gave out, along with the rest of me. I collapsed on the floor of the hallway with a loud thud, and I blinked back the fog, my fingers gripping the carpet as I tried to move forward. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything. I was too weak to stand, so I did my best to crawl while my entire body suffered an ache I’d never felt before. My head dropped forward while the walls spun around me. “Nate,” I tried to yell, but nothing came out. My mouth was dry, though my body was covered in sweat. “Nate,” I choked out.
His bedroom door swung open, and it took all my energy to lift my gaze.
His gun was pointed at me.
I squealed.
Right before I lost all my strength, all my will, and all my fight.
And I succumbed to the darkness.
Nate
A loud thud startled me awake. My first thought was Bailey. My only thought was Bailey. Without hesitation, I reached for the gun under my pillow and tried to settle my heart, just long enough to be able to hear what was happening on the other side of my bedroom door.
I thought about Bailey and what she was like when I’d taken her; her silence was deafening. Would she scream for help?
It was silent.
No footsteps.
No whispers.
Nothing.
I opened my door; my gun held firmly in my hands.
I looked toward her open bedroom door, and then down the hall.
Nothing.
But then I heard it, a small whimper that elevated my fear, and my eyes snapped to the sound, to the girl lying on the floor, her shallow breaths amplified in my eardrums. “Bailey!” I dropped to my knees and moved her hair, trying to see her face. She was pale, her entire body covered in sweat. “Bailey!” I shook her gently, but she didn’t respond. “Bailey!”
My heart raced, aching with every beat.
Then she inhaled sharply, gasping for air. “Nate,” she whispered.
She hadn’t even seen me, but she was saying my name… calling out to me.
“I’m here. Just hang on, okay?”
I ran back to my room and dialed Tiny’s number. “Get Doctor Polizi here. Now!”
“Are you okay?” he asked, panic clear in his voice.
“It’s Bailey.”
I hung up and dashed back out to Bailey. She hadn’t moved. Without speaking, I picked her up, just like I did the first night I found her and carried her to her room. “What happened?”
She groaned in response, her head resting on my shoulder with one arm around my neck. I held her in my arms as I sat down on the bed. She leaned into me, a single, almost silent sob escaping her.
My phone rang. “We’ll be there in ten,” Tiny said when I answered. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“But she’s safe, right?”
“Yes,” I rushed out, forgetting how this must’ve seemed to Tiny. “She’s safe.”