Chapter 5 Colby
COLBY
“I just told you why, Duffy. Don’t play dumb.” Rory’s hushed words slowly bring me out of sleep.
“I’m just surprised.” Duffy’s whiny protest makes me open my eyes even though I don’t want to.
“What’s a surprise?” I ask, my voice croaky from who knows how many hours of sleep.
All the bruising and surgery and whatnot has really taken a toll on me.
As I shift, I feel nauseous for a moment, and it’s another reminder that I’m not back to a hundred percent even though I can stay awake now for at least half an hour.
It didn’t even take me an hour, I think, to drop into sleep after Eian left.
I look over and see the crib is empty. That’s where I put Maggie when Rory came back into the room to sit by Duffy’s bed. After that very confusing conversation with Eian I needed some time with her, but I made myself put her down when she fell asleep.
Now I find her yet a-fucking-gain, in Rory’s arms, still sleeping.
“Rory,” I groan, not lucid enough to tamp down my annoyance. “If you keep carrying her while she’s asleep, she’s gonna get used to that and only fall asleep when someone’s holding her.”
“So what?” Rory demands, her scary-as-fuck frown aimed at me, but it disappears into a blank stare that I guess is a good thing when she looks back down at Maggie’s pretty face.
“Babies calm Rory down,” Duffy explains, in the most sensible tone I’ve ever heard from someone saying something so utterly ridiculous.
Babies calm the psycho down? Really? That’s great. It really fills me with confidence.
Not.
Or well . . . if I’m honest, I’m no longer worried about Maggie being in her arms. It’s clear Rory’s fond of her, and as long as she stays in my line of sight, I’m not going to get pissy again.
I do have to give it to Duffy, though, he looks surprisingly fresh after having god-knows-what injected into him by his boss. I know it’s more than a little ridiculous of me to not even want to think his name, but I’m giving myself a break.
“That’s concerning,” I mutter, doing my hardest to remain calm. “Why does she need to calm down right now? Everyone’s safe and sound. Come on,” I beg, looking at Rory again. “You’re just going to make my life harder when I eventually have to go back to work.”
A strange cough slash groan slash choking sound leaves Duffy, and I look at him, worried. He shakes his head and waves a hand around like nothing’s wrong even though he’s still fucking coughing.
“I’m sure you’re mistaken,” Rory tells me with that same blank stare.
“God.” I let my head fall back against the pillow, and though my stomach protests, I look up at the blank ceiling wondering how I got here—I know exactly how I got here. “I need coffee before I even attempt to have a rational conversation with either of you.”
“I’ll go get you some,” Rory says, sounding almost . . . excited? She’s moving over to the crib, gently laying Maggie down, and out of the room before I can figure out what to say.
“How’d you sleep?” Duffy speaks before I can ask him why his sister is suddenly so accommodating. His tone is way too chirpy for my current state. “You looked like it was a good one.”
“A good one?” I ask in a mumble, almost only talking to myself. But that reminds me. “What’s the thing that surprised you?”
“Huh?” his head tilts to one side in that confused-puppy look, but I can tell he’s trying to play dumb, just like his sister said before.
“You woke me up just minutes ago whining about something surprising you.” I don’t know what it could be that he’s making such a production about not telling me.
“Why are you in such a hurry to get back to work?” he’s totally avoiding the question. “And do you mean work for me or somewhere else? If you need more money, I can—”
“Why won’t you answer the question?” I demand.
“Why don’t you?” he throws right back.
“Ugh, you’re insufferable,” I grumble. Though from the smile that splits his face wide open, he knows I don’t mean it. “If I’d known this is what you were like, I wouldn’t have gone looking for you.”
He scoffs once, twice, and then harder a third time.
“Yes you would’ve. I told you, you’re too nosy. You know curiosity killed the cat?”
“I’m more of a dog person myself.”
“That’s probably why Duffy likes you, then,” Rory says, strolling back in with a disposable paper cup that has steam rising out of it.
She sets it on the table next to my bed, then wheels it over so I can reach, and dumps packets of sugar and cream next to it.
“He’s loyal like a dog and just as smart as one of those Chihuahuas. ”
I hurry to take a sip before I even try to engage with these two, but Duffy has a different idea.
He totally ignores his sister and just keeps badgering me.
And even with nausea still swirling in my gut, since I haven’t eaten in God knows how long, and I know coffee on an empty stomach is asking for trouble, I listen intently.
“You know you’re a great lookout. You don’t need another job.” He sounds so urgent, I have to send him a confused frown over the cup. “Besides, the boss told us how you’re actually loaded, so what gives?”
I focus on the taste of the coffee, on how it’s perfectly warm since it almost burns my tongue but doesn’t really go that far, and look right down at Maggie.
I can’t figure out if I hate or really appreciate that they don’t say anything and just wait for me to talk.
“He’s a tattletale,” is all I can come up with.
I’m not about to spill my guts about one of my many mental-health issues.
Being scared of running out of money isn’t a bad thing, and like that therapist told me when I was little, with my background it makes sense, and I shouldn’t be ashamed of how I cope.
Rory snorts, then pulls a chair between our beds. The look she sends me is positively the most patronizing thing I’ve seen in my life.
“Isn’t there a famous phrase from all those mafia movies and TV shows about snitches getting stitches?” she asks the room at large.
“I think so,” Duffy mumbles.
“In any case.” She pauses to shrug and manages to look semi human-like. “It’s true, and yes, Eian did tell us some of what he learned about you when he asked Duffy about the . . . circumstances of your meeting.”
“And what did you tell him?” I direct the question at Duffy.
His shrug is much more natural than Rory’s.
“Just how I felt bad that you’d left all your groceries on the street because that dumbass was running from me, and that you looked scared at first, but then you settled into the job like a pro.”
I hum thoughtfully at that.
I doubt that’s all Duffy told him, but what good would it do to press him for more details?
“He clearly knew more than enough without your input.” I can’t hide the bitterness. After Eian left, I felt so fucking stupid and just plain embarrassed by how I reacted to him.
When he’s not around, he’s an easy guy to resist, but the second he’s near, I seem to lose all my brain cells, and it’s definitely not because he’s scary.
Of course I was scared while he was here too, but more because of the effect he was having on me rather than anything he said. That changed pretty quickly the second he left and Rory came back in with Mac.
Now that I’ve had some time to think . . . now that I know Maggie and I are together and safe . . . now I can admit that Duffy was right, and Eian was right.
I was stupid and impulsive, and I’m damned lucky they saved me. I’m lucky Duffy woke up from his damn coma last week and was able to ask them to check on me.
Lucky. That’s not a word I’ve associated with myself in a long time. It’s insane that I feel that way now that I pretty much owe my life to the most feared mobster in the city.
Even if they were right, I won’t accept them blaming my need to know things, though.
I was impulsive, and I should’ve found another way to find out if Duffy was all right, but my need to know is the one thing that’s always been mine, that has always pushed me forward.
It’s turned me into the man I am today, and I’ll never apologize for it, even if they call me nosy for the rest of my life.
“Eian wants us to pick up your things from your apartment,” Rory blurts out awkwardly, after the long stretch of silence, and again I can tell she’s trying to sound friendly—it’s not working. I frown at her and shake my head.
“I’m pretty sure I have everything I need. It’s not like I’m gonna stay here much longer, right? A week or two more and I’ll be home.”
Duffy again reacts in that weird way that sounds like his throat and mouth suddenly forgot how to work properly.
“What?” I demand. “Just tell me,” I hiss at him.
“You’re not going back to your apartment,” Rory says, her tone unemotional once again, and I like it better than that fake cheer from before.
It dawns on me, what Eian really meant when he said I was no longer able to do anything without his say-so.
“I can do all the research I need from my own place.” I doubt anyone’s going to blame me for sounding so panicked—I am panicked for fuck’s sake. “I can’t uproot Maggie’s life, she needs a routine and—”
“Your life is now with us,” Duffy says, his soft tone doing absolutely nothing for my mental state.
“No, Eian said—”
Wait, what did he actually say?
Do you think you have a choice?
I shudder with full-body shivers. Fucking hell, even in my head his voice is just too damn . . . enticing. I really need to get my head checked.
Why did it not register before?
As if they have a mind of their own, my eyes shift to the door, but just as quickly as I look at it, I know I really can’t outrun every man and woman in this clinic. I don’t even know where the clinic is.
Yes, I’m pretty sure we’re in Jersey, but I could really be anywhere.
I don’t know how she moved so quickly, but Rory’s next to my bed and forcibly turning my gaze toward her.
“Don’t run, Colby. I don’t want to hurt you.”
I stare into those empty eyes and know that she doesn’t. But she will. I’m a prisoner all over again.