Especially one of John’s last paintings.
“It’s interesting that you laugh, because I’m not going anywhere.”
“Well, I’m not giving you anything, so I guess we’re at a stalemate. I’m not the one who was distributing the drugs. You need to talk to the girl I kicked out of my class for it,” I said.
“We did. She’s dead. The debt falls on your shoulders.”
My laughter ceased as the man’s eyes locked heavily on mine.
“You killed her?” I asked.
“Me? No. That was taken care of a long time ago.”
“I’m calling the police.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
I looked up and saw the man draw a knife. He flipped out the blade and held it up toward one of John’s paintings. I ran out from behind the counter, and his eyes dropped to my baby bump, my hand outstretched as the blade drew closer to the canvas.
“Interesting development,” the man said.
“Don’t do anything you’re going to regret,” I said.
“I don’t regret anything I do, Hailey. Do you?” he asked. “If you try to call the cops, I’ll simply leave town. Wait out the heat and then come back. Only when I come back, there will be hell to pay.”
His eyes were locked on my baby bump, and I felt my world spinning. He was threatening my child. My unborn child. I cradled my arms around my stomach and backed away from him as his cynical laughter filled the room. The man lowered the blade from the painting but kept his eyes on my body, scanning me like I was some piece of meat.
“I’ll be back soon,” he said as he put away his knife. “And I expect you to have the one hundred thousand dollars.”
“It can’t be that much,” I said breathlessly.
“It’s called interest, sweet cheeks. And you’ve racked up a lot of it.”
My back pressed into the wall as my taser clattered to the ground. The man turned on his heels and left my gallery, a trail of dust and threats in his wake. I slid to the ground with tears streaming down my face while images of John flashed through my head. Memories of him painting in that shop. The feeling of that man’s hand around my neck. How John had ripped those men away from me and chased them out of the shop.
I could still hear John gurgling in the alleyway as I scooped his head up and cradled it in my lap.
My hands were shaking as I tried to get off the floor. My legs were weak, and my knees were trembling, giving out on my under the pressure and the fear I had experienced. I pulled myself behind the register and curled up into the corner, trying to take steady breaths as I closed my eyes.
One hundred thousand dollars?
Where in the world was I going to get one hundred thousand dollars?
Chapter 7
Bryan
I checked on the house throughout the day, which pissed off Foreman Jack. We were a week and a half away from having everything ready, and I had finally managed to get pictures of the nursery walls for the wallpaper to be put up. I told the foreman I had it ordered and that I was shipping it right to the site, so he needed to keep an eye out for it. It could be reordered if something happened to it, but that would push back the date the house would be finished.
And we were already pushing it as it was.
Work had been good, though I had heard from Hailey very little. She was supposed to be conducting her first round of interviews today, and I figured I’d hear from her. I thought about going to her gallery to see how she was, but if she was in the middle of interviews, I didn’t want to interrupt her. But there was something churning in my gut. There was something that just felt off.
I was driving home from the foundation and decided to pick up dinner. With having all those interviews today, I knew Hailey wouldn’t feel like cooking. I drove through our favorite takeout place and got her all her favorites. I was planning on massaging her feet while she talked to me about her interviews. I wanted to hear all about them and who she was leaning toward. I wanted her opinions and her thoughts. I wanted to hear about all the paintings she had sold now that her European tour had come to a close.
Really, I was simply eager to see her.
Going on that tour with her had been wonderful, but now that we were both back at work, I missed her. I missed having her around and making memories with her. I missed walking the streets with her hand settled in mine. One of the great things about that tour was that we got to spend so much time with one another. I got to watch her shine and do what she loved to do. I got to support her and visit so many exotic places with her at my side.
And now that we were back in the real world, I missed having her in my sights during the day.
“Hailey? I’m home.”
I walked through the door and saw her sitting on the couch.
“I brought your favorite,” I said.
But still, she didn’t greet me.
“Hailey?” I asked.
“Bryan?”
“Of course, it’s me. Who else would it be?” I asked.
She was sitting on the couch, and her eyes looked distant, glossed over and withdrawn like maybe she was upset. I walked over to her and put the food on the coffee table before I cradled her close to me. Had something gone wrong with the interviews? Was she not feeling well?
“Hailey? Are you all right?” I asked.
She turned her head toward me, and I could tell something was wrong. And with Hailey’s history of trying to keep things from me so she could protect me, I knew I had to tread lightly. I slipped my arm around her waist and pulled her close, and her body didn’t even fight my movements. If this was her pregnancy making her feel this way, she would’ve fought me. She hated being touched if her body was feeling achy or sick.
“What happened today at work?” I asked. “Did something happen with the interviews?”
“Just such a long day,” she said.
She wasn’t lying, but she certainly wasn’t indulging. I knew she was dealing with pregnancy hormones, but something else was wrong. Something had taken place at work, but I had to respect that maybe she wasn’t ready to talk about it. It wasn’t like her cancer. It wasn’t like she was denying there was a problem. She openly admitted that it had been a hard day for her, so she was probably processing everything now.
I didn’t want to upset her, so I stuck with the topical comforts to try and ease her mind a bit.
“You know whatever it is, I want to hear about it, right?” I asked.
“I know,” she said.
“No matter how bad your day was, I want to be here to help you through it. Even if it means helping you unwind from it.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I’m just so tired. The interviews and the questions. Just watching them be so perky was draining.”
“How many did you have today?” I asked.
“Four. All in my last two hours of work.”
“Yikes,” I said. “Wonderful timing.”
“It was my fault. I figured the gallery wouldn’t be too busy today. Thursdays are usually my empty days now. But not today,” she said with a sigh.
That was what was bothering her. It wasn’t a busy day, but there was something that happened in her gallery before those interviews. I studied Hailey closely as her eyes locked onto the wall. She was slipping back into herself. Into her mind. It was like she was reliving something, like her memories were pulling her back somehow.
Her glazed expression looked somewhat reminiscent of the gaze my mother had at dinner the other night.
“Did someone come in asking about John’s paintings again?” I asked.
That had a tendency to get to her. People loved those two paintings. They had recently made it back to the gallery after a three-month stint in Los Angeles, so maybe having them back crowded her art gallery. I know people got curious about John sometimes, about the person he was and where he was at in his life when he’d painted those two pictures. Those days could be really draining to Hailey, having to talk about him and rehash his life.
But there was something in the way she was sitting that had me worried. She was cradling her stomach more than normal. Possessively, in fact, like something was wrong.
“How have your appointments been going?” I asked. “Is something wrong with the baby?”
“What? No,” she said. “What would make you think that?”
“You’re holding your stomach a little tight.”
She relinquished her grasp on her stomach immediately as she sighed.
“The baby’s fine. I’m just tired, Bryan.”
“Are you sure? Because if something’s going on, you need to tell me. We need to get some sort of help before—”
“Bryan, I would never keep something about our child away from you,” she said. “I know I’m not good at talking about myself, but I’m not heartless.”
“I never assumed you were. I’m just worried about you.”
“Well, don’t be. It was a long day, and they’re only going to get longer the heavier I get,” she said.
“Well, there’s something else on your mind. Is it your mother?” I asked.
“I haven’t even been thinking about my parents, to be honest.”
I knew she was still holding something back. The look in Hailey’s eye wasn’t only because she was tired. But I knew if I pressed more, she would get upset. Even though Hailey had a history of holding things back, I knew she would also talk whenever things came to a head. It wasn’t ideal, but at least she would talk when she was ready. I was worried that pressing her further would cause more trouble, and I wanted to have a relaxing evening with her.