Page 70 of Murder & Mayhem
The whole thing was a mess and much more complicated than I could imagine. Luca’s team, and subsequently the FBI, was mostly focused on finding Slash and another guy, Bradley Fieldburg. I didn’t know the deal with him except that he was their adopted son’s bio dad. And had apparently had a role in trafficking him. That wasn’t my circus, so I was staying out ofit. My mission was torturing and killing anyone whose name I was given under the guise of getting information, but I could barely even bring myself to care about that.
Gideon was hanging back, watching as the guy’s intestines leaked out of the slice in his stomach after I’d gutted him. He had gone back to work but came with me on nights and weekends. I pretended that I didn’t know he was stuck on babysitting duty to make sure I didn’t unravel to a point I could never return from.
That itch under my skin that had been growing more and more unbearable since I’d read Jamie’s note was still there and still growing. I kept thinking this would help. That killing these assholes and ridding the world of more shit stains would eventually heal the open wound Jamie had left, but it never did. I still felt like I was being eaten alive from the inside out.
“Come on, man. He’s gone. Leave this to the cleaners. Let’s wash up and get something to eat. The game’s on tonight, and I could use a beer.”
I grimaced. Crowds. Loud noise. Fucking hockey. Even on a good day, I barely tolerated that for Gid’s sake. Today . . .
“I think I’m just going to go home,” I told him.
“Yeah, no. Not happening. I was trying to be nice about it, but this is officially an intervention. We’re showering and then meeting Ari out. No arguments.”
I began to argue anyway, because what the fuck? I didn’t need an intervention. I needed Jamie. But Jamie needed space. He needed to heal on his own. And I understood. I was proud actually. But it didn’t mean I wasn’t left shattered into a million tiny pieces.
I had his note with me. Folded and unfolded a hundred times in the last two weeks. Not that I needed to be looking at it to know what it said. I’d memorized every word.
Nicky,
I don’t think you’ll ever know what you did for me. And I don’t only mean protecting me and saving Bailey. You made me feel alive. Like I was an actual person. I didn’t know I could feel like that.
So thank you. For everything. Thank you for letting me know I could do more than just survive. I deserve to have a life, and I’m going to have one. One where I’m not consumed with nightmares and looking over my shoulder every second. One where I can love and be loved.
I want you to be part of that life. I hope we can make that happen one day. In such a short time, you wiggled your way into my brain and heart and I want you to stay there. But before I can think about that, I need to get better. I have to heal myself. And Bailey. Then, maybe one day, we can have the future I picture when I see you.
I know that’s a lot to ask for from you. I don’t expect you to wait for me. I don’t know what I expect honestly. I guess I didn’t want to leave without telling you this.
Thank you, Daddy. Thanks for teaching me that it’s okay to live. I really hope this isn’t goodbye.
Jamie
That was the last I’d heard from Jamie. Ari had told me that three days after he’d left, Jamie and Bailey had checked into an inpatient facility that catered to traumatized youthand those who struggled with mental health up till age 21. Ari, and then Luca, had both assured me that it was perfectly safe. The Sullivans weren’t the first patients to have people that might be looking for them, and the place had top-of-the-line security. Plus, Luca had promised he had some of the security team he worked with on the place. They had the best doctors and therapists, so I couldn’t ask for more.
I was so happy that Jamie had made that decision and was taking his mental health seriously, but I was fractured down the middle and not handling it well. I understood it wasn’t a rational reaction. I’d known Jamie for less than a week when he’d left. This shouldn’t be taking this type of toll on me. I guessed Jamie wasn’t the only one with damage, and his hold on me was making me aware of how deep mine ran.
I wished he’d told me everything face-to-face, not through a fucking note. I wished that I were the one who’d driven them there, not Skye, and that I was paying the bill, not some government program for survivors. I wished Jamie would let me be the one to take care of him, even if logically I understood he had to do this for himself.
Gideon was still holding my gaze. “You’re not doing well, Nicky. You either come out with me tonight and let us talk or Ari and I are throwing your ass into your own facility, with or without your consent.”
Rage flared through the ever-growing numbness. “What the fuck? You can’t do that.”
Gideon’s expression softened. “You’re getting reckless. You don’t care if you’re hurt or caught. You’re crossing lines you made us promise you we wouldn’t let you cross when we were fifteen and burned Mitch alive. We promised you, Nicky. And me, the most unhinged one out of all of us, is telling you, you need help.”
I deflated. I wasn’t really that bad, was I? I tried to thinkabout the last two weeks, about the kills I’d done . . . and I couldn’t remember. The details, the how and when, were all a blur. It had never been like that. I’d always been careful. I’d had to be. Blacking out was dangerous. That was how mistakes happened and you ended up getting caught. I’d worked hard to make sure that didn’t happen. But it was. I had no idea what I was doing anymore. My life was a collage of death and blood. Bruised knuckles, the scent of charred flesh, and small, hidden rooms that no one would ever find.
“Fuck. Fuck, Gid. I think you’re right.”
Gideon was there now, his arms around me and holding me tight. I returned the hug like he was the only thing keeping me standing. Like the way Jamie had held onto me that last night.
In hindsight, I’d known it was coming. It was always going to be one night together, one perfect fucking night, but I’d allowed myself to hope for more. I’d allowed this boy to break through my defenses and he’d fucking destroyed me.
“Gid— I shouldn’t be like this. I barely fucking knew him. But I don’t know how to do this. Not anymore.”
“Time means nothing. He’s yours. Sometimes, it’s just like that. Sometimes you know. And Jamie knows too. He didn’t leave you because he doesn’t care. You know that. He left because he wants what you two started to develop to be real. You both deserve that.”
I sobbed into my brother’s shoulder in the basement of an abandoned building while a man tied to the ceiling bled out. “Maybe I should talk to someone?” I admitted reluctantly. I believed in therapy, but never for myself. I was fine. I always coped. But fuck, maybe I wasn’t. “Not inpatient. I won’t do that. But Luca said they have a therapist that works with them. She knows about the less-than-legal portions of their business. Maybe I can talk to her?”
“I think that might be a good idea, Nicky. You’ve buried things for too long. It’s time to start letting it go. When Jamie comes back, and he fucking will, you want to be whole for him. I know you want to be the Daddy he deserves, but this Nicky isn’t that man.”
