Page 24 of Bristol

I shoot a quick thumbs up response and pull on my boots. I leave a scribbled note for Bristol sitting on the bar in the kitchen before I pull a sweatshirt on and head down to the bike. The roads are just starting to become crowded with the Friday morning work traffic, but I hit the shoulder a few times and am out of the way of the people heading into work.

Mo’s already at the clubhouse when I pull up. I shiver as I enter the bar area. The heater wasn’t on last night but the smell in the air tells me Mo already turned it on. He’s sitting at one of the small round tables just behind the barstools at the bar.

“This is the evidence I was able to gather from the warehouse. I figure tipping the cops off about the warehouse will keep them busy while we work on finding Patrick. If they’re busy here, then they ain’t busy on his trail. There’s nothing there that will lead them to him. I’ve got a few feelers out with some of our mutual colleagues, and I think we may be onto something, but only time will tell.”

“Thank you.”

He hands me a folder that looks like it came off the dollar shelf at the dollar store, but it isn’t about the folder. It’s about what’s inside. From the photos inside, Mo did a full sweep of the warehouse complete with photographs of the room where Bristol was being held. There’s a large, fluffy mattress in the center of the room adjacent to a small nightstand. The walls are bare and concrete, the floor is bare and concrete. There’s a door in the corner, its ajar and I can see a few clothing items in it so I’m guessing it was her closet. The blankets on the bed are thrown back and the multitude of stains on the sheets make my stomach turn.

Looking at the small room she was stuck in for so long, all alone, makes something inside my chest ache. Flooded with pain for what this beautiful girl went through, it quickly swirls into anger. Rage. How could anyone do something like this to a human, much less a woman?

“I’m sorry you had to see these.”

“I needed to, brother.”

The room is quiet with the weight of Bristol’s former reality lingering in the air as I flip through the rest of the images. Nothing else in them makes me quite as sick as the first few photos of the room and bathroom she was kept in. Everything else was pretty standard.

“I’ve got Slim locating property records for us. He’s willing to do just about anything to keep his good standing because at this rate, Joey’s ready to center-punch him just for his ol’lady involving the cops at our house.”

“I’m not saying he deserves it, but… he deserves it.”

“Agreed.”

“I’ve got a meeting this evening with one of the tech guys that Patrick was in cohorts with. I think you should tag along. You can keep a clear head for a little bit, can’t you?” Mo asks the question with a smirk on his face.

“I got this.”

“We’re meeting around three. Should be done in time to make it to church and report our findings.”

“Count me in.”

I spend the day running a few errands in town. Picking up lunch for Bristol, grabbing a cellphone for her, and responding to a few work sales calls. It’s a good thing I work for myself because these last few weeks, I haven’t gotten much done on the work front. I’d be in a bind if I didn’t have my shit together. I make one last pit-stop at the adult store in town for a few bedroom necessities on the way home.

When I walk into my apartment, Bristol is awake and sitting on the bed, watching some love story on Netflix. She smiles when I enter the room, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. I want to wrap her up in my arms and assure her that everything is going to be okay.

“Hey,” I say softly, sitting down next to her.

“Hey.”

“Did you get some rest?”

“Yes. I think I was so exhausted I didn’t have a choice but to sleep like the dead. It’s a good thing you weren’t here to see it, too. There was drool everywhere.”

The way she puts a light-hearted spin on everything even after all the trauma she’s been through amazes me. So much darkness and she still shines a light.

“I brought you a plate lunch from the diner. They have specials every day and today’s special was steak tips and gravy with mashed potatoes. I also got you this,” I say, handing her the new iPhone I just snagged for her at the store.

“Wow. Thank you. You didn’t need to do that, though. I hate that you’re having to spend money on me and I’m not able to contribute.”

“It’s okay. You need a cellphone. You have to be able to communicate with at least me. I put my number and Mo’s number in there.”

“Wow. iPhones have certainly come a long way since 2017,” she says, rummaging through the phone and examining all of its features. She starts with the camera, snapping a few candid photos of me before opening the photos app and looking at her handiwork. She switches back to the camera and turns it around, leaning in close to me for a selfie.

I smile and she’s got this cheesy, genuine grin on her face that stirs feelings inside me I wasn’t aware I was capable of feeling. She snaps the first one, then sticks her tongue out causing me to follow suit. She snaps a few more of us making silly faces together before she goes back to looking through the rest of the apps on the phone.

She opens it up to text messages and a few seconds later my phone pings. I pull it out and find she’s sent me a kissy heart emoji.

“I can do you one better than that,” I say, grabbing her face and pulling her lips to mine.

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