Chapter 12
chapter twelve
Crumbs
Tiffany
Rolling to my side, I take in the aches of my body. I don’t know how anyone survives being pepper-sprayed. This shit makes me never want to break the law. I can only imagine what police-grade tear gas feels like.
I sit up on the edge of the bed, my feet dangling over the floor. My throat still feels as if I have strep. Even my eyes feel achy. I notice on the nightstand beside me is a glass of ice water. I don’t hesitate to take a sip of the cold beverage.
Once done, I head out of the room to find my baby. Noah is fast asleep in his crib. It’s after midnight, so I wouldn’t expect anything less. I head down to the kitchen hoping to refill my water glass.
The sound of male voices had me straying from my original route and heading toward Nico’s office.
“Maseo says the cameras at the mall caught nothing. But there is a back entrance into the mall used as a service door. More than likely that’s how the Horseman got in and out of the building.”
I know that voice belongs to Ghost. Even now, it still sends a shiver of fear down my spine. Since I got back from my mother’s, he’s been around a lot more. Before I left, I never saw him. Obviously, since it would have been a dead giveaway.
“Fuck,” Nico growls. “I want someone to go and….”
The floorboards creak underneath my foot as I try to move closer to the door. The voices end abruptly. Before I could back away from the door, it swings open and Nico is standing in front of me. His eyes narrow but quickly soften as he looks over me.
“I’m going to head out.” Ghost appears behind Nico before walking out of the office. I move out of his way as he passes. He dips his chin at me with a grin. No matter how nice he tries to be, I can’t get past him kidnapping me.
The moment he is out of view, I turn my attention back to Nico.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“I’m good.”
He looks me over before seeming to accept my response.
“If you don’t need anything, I need to get back to work.” He turns away from the door and heads back into his office. I follow behind him.
“Is there anything you need to tell me?” I ask as he takes his seat behind his desk.
He leans back in the leather seat, his gaze raking over me. “No.” His tone is so casual. The way he effortlessly lies and withholds things from me is the reason we are where we are now.
Shaking my head, I reply. “There you go again, keeping secrets.”
“I’m not keeping secrets.”
I scoff. “Oh really? Then who or what is a ‘Horseman’?”
He’s silent. His dark brown eyes staring back at me with a neutral expression. Nothing on his face or body moves or gives anything away. It’s as if I’m talking to a mannequin. It’s a reminder of how little I know about the man I married and had a child with.
I wait patiently for him to say something to me. To tell me to mind my business, lie, or hell kick me out. But he does nothing. His gaze remains on me without wavering.
Tossing my hands in the air, I let them drop back to my sides. “You came and got me from my mother’s house, and you refuse to let me leave. You talk about wanting us to work, yet you won’t share anything with me.”
“I share the things that are important,” he argues without raising his voice.
“Knowing if my life is in danger is important, Nico,” I shout.
Silence fills the room once again.
“I have everything under control.”
My eyes burn with the urge to cry, but I’m so tired of crying for this man. I’m sick of feeling like I’m living with a stranger. Shaking my head, I look up at the ceiling to keep the tears from falling.
“Forget it.” I look back at him. “Keep your secrets. I’m done. My son and I will be fine.” I turn to leave.
His laughter stops me in my tracks. It’s not because it’s out of place in this argument. But it’s more so because of how deranged it sounds.
Turning back around, I watch as he slowly climbs to his feet and walks to the front of his desk before leaning with his butt against it.
“Where do you think you can go that I will not find you?” I don’t answer the question because I doubt he wanted an answer. “I’ll remind you only one last time; the only way out of this marriage will be with my body being six feet under. And I have no plans of dying anytime soon.”
His comment pisses me off even more. I march over to him.
“You say you love me—”
“I do.” He interrupts.
“Kidnapping me and holding me hostage is not love, Nico.”
“Then tell me what is?” he shouts. “I have protected you, and supported your dreams in every way that I know how. I’ve made it so that you never have to work again a day in your life, even if I die tomorrow. What the fuck else do you want from me, Tiff?”
“You!” I shout, tossing my arms in the air. “I want to know the man I married.”
“You know me.”
“Oh, really?” I swipe the tears under my eyes. “Where did you grow up?”
The moment my question comes out, his jaw ticks and those dark brown eyes nearly turn pitch black. I keep going with my questions.
“How did your parents die? What happened between you and your sister? Better yet, just tell me about your life after your parents died.”
“Enough,” he yells, running his hand through his hair. He pushes away from the desk and paces.
“None of that matters. The only things that are important are you, me, and Noah. The past is irrelevant.”
Shaking my head, I say. “I know nothing about you. You are a stranger to me.” He glares at me.
However, I don’t let it deter me. “If your past was nourishment that I needed to survive, I’d be dead.
That’s how little I know you. And until you can let me inside the real you, I don’t think I can love you. ”
He looks away from me, his nostrils flaring and his face turning a deep shade of red.
His hands clench at his side. His entire body is vibrating.
But I don’t back down. Instead of standing in here and getting nothing in return, I turn and walk out of the office.
The moment the door closes behind me, I hear the crash of something heavy slamming against the wall followed by a loud, anger-filled yell.
“Come away from the door, sweet pea.”
I look up to the top of the stairs to find Ms. Rose standing there. She’s wearing a flannel robe, her hair is in pink sponge rollers, and her arms are open wide.
I’m a grown woman, a mother, a wife, and a career professional. But seeing this woman dressed in her robe with her rollers, with care and concern on her face, has me breaking down. I take the stairs quickly into her awaiting arms. I bury my face in her shoulder and cry.
“He won’t let me in,” I blubber.
Ms. Rose calmly rubs my back.
“It’s okay. Let it all out.”
I cry on her shoulder until my tears refuse to fall any longer. When I have nothing left to give, she walks me to my room, climbs on my bed with me and hums an unknown tune. In the background of my heartbreak is the sound of my husband’s rage.
Finally, with my head lying in Ms. Rose’s lap, I fall asleep.