Chapter Seventeen
We pick up lunch, taking the scenic route back to the apartment. From the back, the building looks worse. Broken windows, graffitied brickwork. I’m surprised it’s not attracting vagrants yet. The building might be open to the elements on all sides, but a breeze is better than rain or snow.
“How do you keep it empty?” I ask, nodding to the spot where a door should be, but there’s just hammered boards closing the gap.
“We relocate anyone who ventures inside. If they want a fresh start, we give them work and a room in a hostel to get started. If they’re too far gone, we find somewhere safer for them to settle down for the night.”
“Can’t you just force them straight into a hostel? Why would they choose the streets?”
“Some are simply scared to try; they remember how hard they fell and won’t risk it happening again.
For others, it’s all they know. You can’t force these things.
It takes work to rebuild. If they underestimate the effort, they’re more likely to relapse when things get too hard.
Then there are those who have already hit rock bottom and have given up. ”
“It’s sad. It’s like they’re just waiting to die.”
“It is. The streets also breed the most desperate people. Some will do anything to live.”
“Like Dax?”
Aiden nods. “Like Dax, Tom, Ben, and Frank…they did what they had to, good and bad, to survive. To build a life.” There’s pride in his tone and concern too. Does he think that’s still driving them? A need to escape the streets?
“You admire them.”
“We all had different starts, and yet we’ve all made it here, to this moment. I admire that.”
We finally circle around to the entrance. Aiden nods at the keypad and gestures for me to open the door. A test. I input the number and the door clicks. He swings it open, and we step inside. He shuts it; the heavy thunk hides us from the rest of the world.
I tug the elevator gates open. Aiden boards last and keys in the apartment code, lowering our bags to the floor and flexing his fingers.
“You should try on all your new clothes. You didn’t even check they fit before we left,” he admonishes.
I snort, thinking of the rush to grab anything with my size on it before Lafferty could get her claws any deeper. into him “I was a little distracted, Aiden.”
He hums and grins. “Jealous, Tiger?”
No point in denying it. “Sickeningly so,” I grumble.
He reaches out and rubs the crease between my brows. “Why are you mad about it?”
“Why are you so happy about it?” I counter.
Aiden’s laughter fills the elevator. “Because, my fierce little tiger, now I know how much you care.” He leans in and kisses me gently. His hands cup my face, pulling me in to deepen the kiss. It’s perfect until he flicks my nose as he pulls away.
“You already know I care,” I grumble, rubbing away the sting.
“Maybe, but you’ve just shown me that you consider me yours. You don’t just like me, or love me, or want me…I’m already yours. I’m allowed to enjoy that just a little, right?”
I can’t help it; my cheeks heat and my lips arch into a smile before I can check myself.
“Interesting way to look at it. I always considered jealousy a weakness, a fault in a person’s character.”
Aiden huffs. “Jealousy is as natural as love, or hate, or any other emotion.”
“My grandmother would say that jealousy is just another name for insecurity.”
His brows arch. “Did Lafferty make you feel insecure?”
I think about it. “No, she made me feel disrespected. I’d just told her we were together, and she tries to paw at you.
Clear disrespect.” Aiden eyes me knowingly.
“Fine, I also didn’t like that you let her touch you.
So sure…I was a little jealous and maybe a pinch insecure.
” As soon as the words are out, I realise how hypocritical I’m being.
I do the same with Dax. I let him touch me, kiss me…
more. So how is that any different to Lafferty’s hands on Aiden?
Do I even get to be jealous of other women if I’m involved with more than one man?
The elevator opens. Aiden dumps all our bags on the floor of the apartment and then tugs me back inside. It’s my turn to eye him. What is he thinking? Where are we going?
“Do you remember a morning about…oooh eight weeks ago? You were at Butchers and Bakers, and the mill vans had arrived for delivery.”
The question catches me off guard. “Sounds like any morning…why? Hang on, eight weeks ago?” Aiden hasn’t known me for eight weeks.
Aiden conveniently ignores my inferred question and rushes to explain. “You came running out of the service doors so fast that you tripped on one of the empty sacks that had slipped too low in your arms…”
I remember it. I went flying. In the second it took for my foot to catch and my body to surge forward, I’d been convinced I’d break my nose or smash my skull on the paving. Except I didn’t fall. Gordy caught me. “How could you even know that?”
“That driver…Gordon Franklin Brown.” Aiden speaks in short, sharp bursts—like spitting out poison rather than saying a name.
“Gordy,” I correct. Even I hadn’t known his full name, so why does Aiden?
“He caught you, checked for injuries, dusted you off and then kissed your forehead.”
My cheeks flare with heat. “How do you—?”
Aiden doesn’t wait for me to ask the pertinent question.
He’s determined to make his point. “The second he drove away. I had him followed. Ran his name through every database. Knew every bar he frequented, how much money was in his bank account, knew his debtors and creditors, knew the name of every girl he’d even so much as looked at…
all of it,” he admits. A contrite expression crosses his face.
Big puppy-dog eyes begging me to understand.
“Why?”
“I’d like to say it was because I wanted to protect you, but the truth is I wanted to ruin him for daring to kiss you…
even just a simple kiss like that peck on your forehead.
I might seem like I’m level-headed most of the time—the UACT training is good for that—but I’m just as capable of jealousy as the next man. ”
I’m reeling. Both at his obvious confession and at the larger confession hidden behind it. “And Gordy?” I ask, curious.
Aiden turns away from me and faces the elevator gate. “He’s a good man. Lives simplistically. He’d be a safe choice.”
I scoff. Does he think I’m interested in Gordy? “He’s not even in the running. I’m just asking if you gave in and ruined him.”
He turns back to me, surprised. “Ahhh, no. Seemed a little extreme given that I was secretly following you and had no right to be jealous in the first place.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “About that.”
“Yeah. About that.” He chuckles nervously. “Let’s go take a look around the first floor, and I’ll tell you everything. You deserve to know it all before you choose us.”
“Bit late…” I mumble, but I don’t mean anything by it.
“Never too late to change your mind, Jules,” Aiden tells me solemnly. I swallow hard. Why does it sound like I’m not going to like what he has to say?
Back on the ground floor, we exit the elevator and ascend the staircase. It rises in a steep incline straight up to a single metal door—the kind you find on reclaimed apartments. The kind that protects empty homes from the homeless.
He unlocks it with a clunk and a clang and a squeal of under-used hinges.
We walk in and I’m at once blown away by the vast barrenness of the space.
Huge pillars reach to the ceiling; lines and lines of them like concrete clones of Atlas holding up Aiden’s world above.
From every direction, light explodes through the Crittall Windows, painting streaks of gold along the floor.
“It’s massive.”
“Double the size of the apartment,” he confirms.
“How?”
“There’s a second apartment up there…or the beginnings of one. I’ll be converting it into a gym…or perhaps I’ll extend into it and create more rooms?” He shrugs. I sense the options are changing daily.
“You could do both if it’s as big as this.”
“Probably.”
“And you want to put a team in here? Like bunks?”
“More like an office. A place to investigate from. I’m thinking of an elite team with specific skill sets. In-house investigations, from corruption to murder. Offices at this end. The forensic lab is over there. We’ll need a couple of vaults. One for the evidence lockup and—”
I listen as he lays out his initial plan, his excitement growing with each addition. I watch him move from section to section, plotting the floor plan of offices and labs, canteens, morgue, and evidence vaults. Dorms too, which I imagine are a new addition to include my input.
“You’ll need more than one floor.”
“We’ll dig down. Make the ground floor accessible only through the first floor. Keep security tight.”
“Like brick up the windows downstairs?”
He tilts his head, considering it. “It’s an option.”
“Then you might want to include natural light wells in the floor up here.”
“Good idea. Or we could keep the labs downstairs? No natural light or ventilation is needed in those. The more controlled, the better.”
“Good idea,” I return. He grins. “It’s a good plan. A way to branch out.”
“A way to build a home and a base of operations that doesn’t rely on Trevainne,” he agrees.
He walks the space, deep in thought. I allow the silence to stretch between us. A peace developing in this place of opportunities. I hate to break it, but I need to know how and why he knew me before we met, so I circle back to his promise.
“How long were you watching?” My voice is soft against the silence.
“How long? Oh.” Aiden takes a deep breath and comes to stand against the nearest pillar. I can see he’s thinking about how to tell me. I give him the time he needs, knowing no matter how long it takes, I’ll have some answers today.
When he finally looks my way, I see he’s come up with a plan. “Does your memory recall work over long periods of time?”
“Yes…as far as I know, it does.”
He nods. “Good. When was the first time you met Dax?”