Chapter 5
I was in bed when I woke up.
It was light in the room, so it must have been morning, but I had no idea how the night had passed.
I got up, gasping as I put pressure on the ankle I’d twisted the night before. My entire body hurt. And my head ached. And my eyes and cheeks felt raw. But I went to the bathroom and then splashed water on my face before heading toward the kitchen for coffee.
I jerked to a stop in surprise when I stepped into the living area and saw that Gideon was still here, lying on the couch, sound asleep, covered with the blanket I’d been using the night before.
I’d assumed he would have gone home to try to recover after such a long night, but he was definitely still here. I could even hear his steady breathing from where I stood.
For more than a minute, I gazed at him. His hair was sticking out on end, and he needed to shave. His long legs were bent up awkwardly as he tried to fit on a couch he was too big for. And one of his arms was out from under the blanket, his hand fisted in the plush fabric.
And I felt the strangest thing. The most unexpected thing. It had been so long since I’d experienced it I almost didn’t recognize what it was.
It was a rush of affection. Of fondness. I was suddenly overwhelmed with how much I genuinely cared about this man.
Of course, I’d always known how much I admired him, appreciated him, recognized good qualities about him.
Even that I liked to be around him more than other people.
But for the past few months, I’d been so completely consumed with trying to make it through every day that I hadn’t had room in my heart for anything extra.
Even something as normal and simple as human affection.
The feeling was so strong and so unexpected that it rocked me. It took me a minute to orient myself to it.
When I could breathe again, I continued into the kitchen since I definitely needed some coffee now.
It was okay, I realized as I brewed myself a cup from my fancy machine. It was good. It had been scary at first, but now the feeling was growing familiar again, like an old friend.
Gideon deserved my affection. It was wrong not to give it to him. I felt almost excited as I took my first sip. Like I was a tiny step better than I’d been yesterday. Like I’d made progress.
I stepped out of the kitchen to watch him sleep again, but I’d only taken a couple of sips when his eyes opened.
He looked groggy, but he smiled as he saw me.
I smiled back, feeling that wave of affection again.
His smile deepened in response to mine, and we just smiled at each other like dopes for a minute.
Then he finally seemed to wake up all the way and process where he was. “Fuck, what time is it?” he asked, straightening up and pushing down the blanket to his lap.
“Just after eight. Do you want a cup of coffee?”
“Yeah. That would be great. Thanks.”
I turned around and headed to the kitchen, but then I heard him get up and walk to the bathroom. He was in there a few minutes so I looked through my cabinets and refrigerator to discover if there was something better than cereal for breakfast. There wasn’t.
When he was done in the bathroom, I brought him his coffee and sat down on the couch. He was standing over me, like he wasn’t sure what to do.
I frowned. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” He lowered himself beside me and picked up his mug. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay. Kind of sore.”
He nodded, obviously unsurprised by this fact.
“You didn’t have to stay here,” I told him. “I know there wasn’t much room on the couch. Did you sleep all right?”
“Yeah. It was fine. It was really late, and I was tired. I hope it was all right that I stayed.”
“Of course. Of course it was all right. I…”
He tilted his head, trying to see my expression, which I was futilely trying to hide with my messy hair. “You what?”
“I… I wanted to thank you. For last night, I mean. It was more than… I mean, you were amazing. So thank you.”
I must have sounded like an idiot, but he didn’t seem to mind. His face softened. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I was here.”
There was a silence that followed, as if he were waiting for me to respond, to say something else. I didn’t though. I had no idea what to say.
I winced as I rolled my ankle, which was throbbing more and more. I tried to peek at it from under the blanket without Gideon noticing and saw it was swollen and discolored.
After a while, he got up to refill our cups. He also brought back a bag of frozen mixed vegetables. I had no idea what it was for until he made me stretch my leg out. Then he put the bag on my swollen ankle.
“You should have told me you twisted it last night,” he said.
“I didn’t think about it.”
I felt kind of awkward with my leg stretched out this way and tried to find a better position. Then Gideon reached out an arm and pulled me toward him so I was leaning against his chest.
It was comfortable and felt casual—not nearly as vulnerable as our position last night—so I figured it was all right.
He kept his arm around me as I adjusted the blanket since the frozen bag on my ankle was making me cold.
“What were you thinking about last night?” he asked as if there hadn’t been a pause in conversation.
I knew what he was asking. He wanted me to explain the state he’d found me in.
He probably deserved an explanation after the way he’d helped me, but that would mean letting so much pain out of the little compartment I tried to contain it in, and I just couldn’t risk doing that. “I don’t know,” I mumbled, managing to stay in my position against him and still sip my coffee.
He let out a long breath. I didn’t know if he was just relaxing or was disappointed or what. He didn’t reply immediately.
I didn’t say anything either. It was nicer just to sit here together, without thinking of bad things. Without thinking of anything, really.
Then he said, without segue or preface, “I’d been undercover for a couple of months when I walked into one of the apartments those guys hung out in.”
It took me a minute to orient myself to what he was talking about, the words came so much out of the blue. I adjusted enough to look up at his face, but he was staring across the room, not looking at me.
He continued, “Sometimes I could distance myself from what happened around me by reminding myself of the purpose, of the good that would come out of it. But sometimes there was no way to get that distance. I’d feel like I was one of them, just like you said.
Because I was there. Because I looked and acted like them.
Because I spoke their language. My grandmother was Albanian—I don’t know if I mentioned that before.
Because they thought I was their friend. It was like I was one of them.”
I had no idea why he was telling me this, my mind still trying to catch up. But I was really glad he was because I wanted to know this part of his self. “I have no idea how you did it.”
“There are methods. Ways of dealing with it. They teach you all kinds of techniques. But the lessons don’t always work.
Anyway, it was a couple of months into my time with them that I walked into that apartment.
We were supposed to be meeting there, but I guess I got there too early.
Only the boss was there, and he had a girl with him.
” Gideon’s voice was even, steady, but he still wasn’t looking at me.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear this, but I knew I couldn’t stop him from telling me. It would be wrong. When the pause stretched on, I prompted, “What… what happened?”
“Nothing. Nothing, really. The girl was on her knees in front of him when I got there, but they were finished at that point. She just got up, looked at me, and walked out.”
“So why did it stick with you?”
“It was the girl. The look on her face. She was so young. Just a teenager. He wasn’t using force, but I could tell she didn’t want him.
He was the boss. He took whatever he wanted, and he’d wanted that girl.
I could just see it. She hadn’t felt like she could say no.
He’d treated her like… like she wasn’t human.
And then she looked at me, and I could see so clearly that she thought I was exactly like him.
Like I would have used her in just the same way.
Like it would never occur to me to treat her with respect or compassion simply because she was another human being. ”
I was so overwhelmed with emotion that a tear slipped out of my eye. “You weren’t like them. You were never like them.”
He looked over at me for the first time since he’d begun the story. “Sometimes I felt like it. Like I was just as dirty as them. There was a lot I had to let slide and not respond to in order to affirm my cover. Things I shouldn’t have allowed, people I should have protected.”
“You were protecting people though. You were protecting more of them by doing what you were doing. Think about all the people whose lives are better because you did what you did, because you helped take them off the streets.”
He reached out and wiped the tear from my cheek with his thumb, the way he had that dark night in that basement room. “When they first put you in the room with me, I saw your face when you saw me. You thought I was one of them too.”
“Only at first—because of how you looked. I know you’re not like them. I knew it that night too.”
“But I let it happen. I didn’t protect you either.”
I could see on his face how much this fact was eating at him. Aching emotion rose up in my throat. “But you tried. Gideon, you tried. No one could have done any more than you did.”
“Knowing I tried doesn’t change anything.” His face twisted briefly, evidently from emotion like what was shuddering through me. “I didn’t protect you when you needed me to.”