“Fletch?”
“Who do we know in the narcotics division? Because Nathan Booth is some mid-level player who ordered a handful of his asswipes to kick the shit out of Jada this morning and landed her in the hospital.”
“For fuck’s sake.” I know it’s cruel to those who watch on, observing my body language, but robbed of the information I’m given. But I sit back in my chair and bring my free hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose. “She okay?”
“Broken ribs. Broken collarbone. Broken wrist. A couple of broken fingers. Concussion. Lacerations. And she’ll need a dentist to fix a tooth that was kicked loose. She’s been using meth, Arch, so that detox is gonna be a fuckin’ joy. And now she’s got some mobster who had her belted today because she didn’t have enough money, and she wasn’t putting out for him and a dozen of his closest friends.”
“Jesus Christ.” I massage the bridge of my nose. “Okay. But she’s alive and okay? That’s what matters first.”
“She’s alive. She’s had some kind of come-to-Jesus realization, because she wants to get clean for real this time. And right this second, she’s sleeping on my couch while Moo and I went out to get something for dinner.”
“On your couch?” I sit straight and meet Minka’s stare. Why can’t we read each other’s minds? It would make shit so much easier. “That’s not safe, Fletch.”
“It’s what we’ve got for now. Mia’s with me, and she won’t leave my sight, even to sleep tonight. We’ll have a slumber party in my bed and lock the door. Jada’s sleeping on the couch. And I’ve already put calls into Ridgewood for another six-week program. She’s really trying this time, Arch.” His voice lowers. Gentles. “This might be the one. So I’m gonna do what I need to do, and I’m gonna protect her until my dying breath.”
“That’s the fuckin’ problem,” I snarl. “Your dying breath is an issue for me. Hotel?”
“For her or for me?” he chuckles. “I can’t afford either. I’m just a single dad, working my way through this season of life, paying a nanny, paying for school, paying my rent. I can’t stretch a dollar further than I already have. And no,” he adds, almost as though he knows what my next words would be. “You’re not paying for it.”
“Pride is a foolish man’s downfall.”
“Poetic. Still not interested.”
“Fletch—”
“I’m gonna see her through this, okay? She deserves the chance to get clean, and Mia deserves to have a healthy mom.”
“You said she got the shit beat out of her. She’s not looking good right now, right? Mia’s seeing that.”
“She’s already seen her. We talked it out when I picked her up from school. I prepared her. I gave her a kid friendly version for why Jada looks the way she looks. And Jada was receptive and warm when they were reunited. It’s not ideal,” he presses. “But it’s happening.”
“Ridgewood?”
“Can get her in in a week. That’s the soonest opening they have.”
“A week is a really long fucking time, Fletch! That means you catch the down. They’re trained for that. You’re not.”
“There is no other option,” he groans. “I won’t put her on the street so that Booth dude sweeps her up again. She doesn’t wanna call her parents. And dropping her in a hotel to be by herself won’t work, either. I’ve paid for the program, Arch. I already sent them the money. So now we wait, and they assured me we’re on a cancellation list in case a room empties sooner.”
Fuck this. Fuck her. Fuck it all.
“It’s not your responsibility,” I lower my voice. “You know that, right? None of this is on you to deal with.”
“Would you turn your back on Minka? Mia, baby. Be careful!” He walks through the wind so pockets of it hit the mouthpiece of his phone and roar in my ear. “If this was you and her,” he presses. He can’t possibly know I look into her eyes now. That I try to juxtapose her face onto Jada’s and imagine our worlds flipped. “If she needed you to save her, would you pack her up and send her away? Or would you clear out your life and do whatever you need to do to make it work?”
“It’s not a fair comparison. She’s not… she doesn’t…” Do drugs. Abuse children. Sleep with other men while she’s married to another. “Fletch, it’s not the same.”
“Right. And you’re damn lucky for finding what you found. I know you’re gonna hold on and do it right. But there’s no way I’m giving up over here.”
“So you’re taking her back? Just like that?”
Fifi pushes up to stand behind me. The soft brush of her skirt suit audible against the smooth leather of the couch.
I don’t look over my shoulder or stop her. But I feel the air change as she opens the door. I feel the tension grow and then dissipate when she steps out.
“I’m not taking her back,” he finally answers, oblivious to what’s happening on my side of the call. “I’m saving her life. I don’t need her to be my wife for me to want to help her. I’d do the same for Aubs or Delicious.”
“So it’s just for this week?” I hold Minka’s stare and give her as much information as I can, without laying things out too obviously. “Then she’s off to Ridgewood, and your home goes back to normal?”