9. Baylee
Baylee
“Well, this is it,” Tucker says as we walk into his apartment.
I’m fighting to keep my eyes open after being up all night. I take in the open concept of his space. It looks nothing like I’d imagined, yet it’s exactly somewhere I can see Tucker Malloy living.
The kitchen is to the left of the front door, with a moderate-sized island in the center.
He has four barstools tucked to one side where I envision him sitting in the morning while eating breakfast. It’s so tidy, with sleek cabinets and state of the art appliances.
Nothing like the bachelor pad I imagined on the drive over, with dirty dishes scattered about.
My car will get dropped off at my parents’ house tomorrow when Danny comes back into town.
He agreed, begrudgingly, to return to my apartment to meet a locksmith in a few hours to get the door fixed and collect the rest of my packed belongings for me.
I don’t want my car left here in case Myles decides to look for me.
Even if the police put a warrant out for his arrest, it will take a few days to take effect.
I walk further into Tucker’s place and find a few boxes of his own he’s probably still needing to unpack.
To the right in his living room is a large couch where I imagine him sprawling out, his large frame likely taking up the whole space and watching television or playing video games, much like he did so many times in my childhood home.
My mind wanders to a shirtless Tucker in gray sweatpants and my heart flutters.
I can feel my cheeks flame and I quickly look away, hoping he can’t read my mind.
Behind his TV there’s a wall with exposed brick that brings this whole place together. Something about it screams Boston and it might be my favorite thing about this place. It immediately looks like a place I’d pick for Tucker.
“Bay, did you hear me?” Tucker is closing the door behind me.
“Huh?” I swing my gaze, finding him looking at me tentatively.
“I asked you if you want a glass of water before I show you to your room.” He juts his chin toward the kitchen.
“Oh, sure.” I tip my smile upward slightly. I don’t know why I’m shy all of a sudden.
“Alright.” He moves into the kitchen to grab a bottled water.
Once he gets one for me and himself, he’s moving ahead of me with my items, while I trail behind him.
I’m taking everything in, wondering how my life has brought me here.
Months ago, I would have butterflies multiplying in my stomach at the thought of sleeping down the hall from this man, while I’m currently crying inside at the realization that my life is literally in shambles right now.
I’m a victim today, part of a club I never wanted entry into.
I’m living a nightmare life in comparison to what I pictured when I got that call from Orange University last week, because I let someone put their hands on me and shatter something inside of me.
I’ll have to learn how to pick up pieces of myself and I have no idea where to start .
I’m once again lost in thought when we stop in front of a door, and Tucker must sense it.
“Baylee, I know you’re probably feeling a lot of things right now, but you’re not in this alone. I won’t let this guy take you away from us.” His words blanket me, as if they’re finding a way to envelop me in a hug.
I look up into his green eyes and I feel the emotion reflected in them in the depths of my soul.
This connection right here is what I want to capture in a bottle and bring with me when I want to crumble.
Because I know this isn’t going to be the only low moment I’ll feel in this hell I’ve found myself in.
I start to blink rapidly, hoping to stop the tears from falling. Of course, I fail and one escapes down my cheek and with a swipe of a thumb, Tucker grabs it.
“Let’s get you situated.” He opens the door, and the guest room reveals itself.
It’s pretty bare, with white walls, a simple nightstand and a television hung on the wall. The bedding is a light blue with matching pillows. The light fixtures on either side of the bed are gold, and he has two baseball-themed art pieces hung on the wall.
“I didn’t know you were a baseball guy.” I look over at him, chuckling.
“Yeah, that’s courtesy of Kennedy. She gave me those as a housewarming present.” He smiles.
“And she’s a baseball fan?” I give him a questioning look.
“You haven’t kept up with everyone on your brother’s squad?”
“I’ve met a few of them, but not really.” I shrug.
“Kennedy is River’s fiancée and she’s the CEO of the Boston Gaels,” he says matter-of-factly.
I lift my eyebrows. “Wow, you don’t hear that every day.”
“Yeah, she’s a ballbuster.” He laughs in response .
“Well, I didn’t realize River got engaged. But knowing him, he needs someone like that.” I laugh. River is a handful.
“That’s for sure.” He sets my stuff down on the dresser. “Alright, well I better get going. I will be back a bit later.” He reaches into his pocket. “Here’s an extra key, and I’ll text you the alarm code. Will you be okay while I’m gone?”
“Uh, where are you going?” I can’t help the panic laced in my tone.
He winces. “I have to take my mom to her treatment. It’s an early appointment. I’ll be gone a few hours. But I’ll have my phone with me.”
Shoot. I forgot Carolyn had an appointment at the hospital today. “Of course. No, it’s fine.”
“Alright. You have your own bathroom and there’s soap, extra toothbrushes, and anything you might need under the sink. Towels and such are there too,” he explains.
“Thanks Tucker. Really, I appreciate it,” I tell him.
“No problem. I have leftover pizza in the fridge if you want some. But make sure to get some rest. I’m just going to freshen up then head out. I’ll be sure to lock up and let you know when I leave.”
“Okay, thank you. But don’t worry about me. I promise, I’ll be fine.” I try to stand up straighter to prove it.
“Baylee, you don’t have to do that,” he says.
“Do what?” I ask.
“Act like you’re unaffected. It’s okay to not be okay around me.” He looks at me.
I look at him and realize that I want to let go so badly with him. But last time I almost did that, I nearly gave him my whole heart. I wanted everything with him and if I had gotten that, who knows where I’d be. One thing’s for sure, I wouldn’t be here, bruised and battered in this way.
Instead, I stand taller. “Tucker, I’m going to be fine. Thank you, though.”
Tucker must realize a wall has formed right then .
“Ok. Call me if you need anything.”
He turns and leaves the room.
I walk myself into the restroom and pull out everything I need for a shower.
I turn the water on and let the steam engulf the confined space, slowly taking over the mirror in front of me.
Before the reflection is fully covered by steam, I see the bruises that have truly taken over my body.
I try to close my eyes in hopes I can shield myself from remembering how horrific these last twelve hours of my life have been, but those lifeless blue eyes take over my memories.
Myles left his mark on me—on my body and in my mind.
He has permanently left scars in my memories and now I feel robbed of so much joy.
It’s as if the beauty of life’s potential is tainted.
I just hope he hasn’t left his mark permanently on my soul.
Maybe as I move forward, I can erase each piece of ugly with a moment of happiness.
I wake to the smell of garlic, and my stomach immediately growls. I can’t remember the last time I ate something. It takes me a minute to figure out where I am. This mattress feels like I’m lying on a cloud. I turn over and stretch out, my muscles stiff.
That’s when the memories from earlier come flooding back... Myles and the attack... my call to Tucker and the trip to the hospital. Everything feels overwhelming. I’m in Tucker’s apartment and my life is no longer what I thought it would be.
I look over at the clock and it’s four-ten in the afternoon.
I groan thinking about my roommates who are probably sick with worry.
We exchanged a few text messages before I finally succumbed to sleep earlier.
My brother updated me with some short messages when things were getting handled at the apartment.
I’m relieved the lock was changed without any issue.
He also told me he found someone to come and fix the damage to the wall.
He promised to drive back out to Connecticut later in the week to supervise that repair for me as well.
My roommates were given a brief explanation, and they wanted to come straight home, but I didn’t want them driving back yet. With the apartment still unsecured and Myles out there, I thought it best they stick to their plans until it was safe to return.
I reach over and grab my phone to find missed texts from the girls, along with a few from my family checking in on me. I also see a missed call and voicemail from a number with an area code from Connecticut, which I’m hoping is from the police department.
I skip the texts and immediately put the phone to my ear to listen to the message:
“Hi, Ms. Rios, this is Officer Tamos. Please give me a call back when you get this. Thank you.”
Unfortunately, she didn’t leave much else to hint if they were able to speak to Myles.
Maybe she can’t leave details in a message.
I’m too anxious to wait another second, so I immediately call her back.
The moment I hear the line ringing, I feel my heart pounding.
I place my hand over my chest, hoping I can calm myself down.
“This is Officer Tamos,” she answers.
“Hi, this is Baylee Rios. I’m returning your call,” I say, my voice a bit shaky.
“Hi, Ms. Rios. I’m glad you called. I assume you got my message?”
“You can call me Baylee. And yes, I just got it. I’m sorry for missing your call.”