Page 100 of Love Bleeds Red
Another look passes between us, and I realize we have more to tell her than I thought.
“Jas, you should tell her,” I say.
“Fuck, guys, just say it. You’re freaking me out.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.
Jasper kneels in front of her and takes her hand. “He’s dead, Bails. King is gone.” He glances back at Falin, who’s looking at him with such love in her eyes. “Falin shot the bastard, and he fell off a fucking roof.”
Bailey’s breathing grows louder and she blinks rapidly as tears stream down her face. “He’s dead? You’re sure?”
“Positive,” Jasper says. “Come here, sis.”
He opens his arms and Bailey falls into him, burying her face in his shoulder. I can’t hear what they’re saying to each other, not through Bailey’s sobs and Jasper’s whispers, but watching them reunited like this lifts a whole fucking boulder off my chest.
For eighteen months, I’ve imagined this moment—Bailey safe with us. But I never pictured it happening like this, with so much pain between then and now. With so much damage that can’t be undone.
They stay like that for a while, until Blake and Damon come back inside. Blake’s eyes are red-rimmed but she’s composed herself. She sees them and instantly knows we’ve told Bailey everything. Well, not everything, but the important parts.
Blake sits on the floor beside them, her hand on Bailey’s back. She’s fighting back tears too. “I’m so sorry, Bailey. I had no idea about my brother. Who he was… what he was doing…”
“It’s not your fault,” Bailey whispers, lifting her head from Jasper’s shoulder to look at Blake. “You couldn’t have known.”
Damon sits beside her, holding her tight, and before I know it all six of us are on the floor, surrounding Jasper and Bailey, holding each other, crying, saying all the things we’ve held inside for over a year.
Between the tears and the comfort of finally being together, Bailey opens up. She tells us fragments—about the food deprivation, about being moved from place to place, about the other girls who didn’t make it out. More… about the violence and the abuse… Only bits and pieces but enough.
She was right. Alfred wasn’t the worst of it. Not even close.
Every word she speaks feels like a knife twisting in my gut. I should have been there. Should have protected her from all of it. And Orlov. Fuck, I wish I could have been there to see that bastard fall off that building. I wish I could have been the one to put a bullet in his chest instead of Falin having to carry that weight. I’d happily watch him die knowing what he did to Bailey.
“So I don’t know about anyone else, but my ass is asleep,” Jasper says with a smirk about an hour later.
Bailey laughs at him, the most perfect sound I’ve ever heard. Christ, I missed that laugh. I’ve tried to remember exactly what it sounded like, but hearing it now, it’s better than any memory.
“Yeah, maybe we should get up,” she agrees.
Everyone takes a minute to grab more pastries, someone opens a bottle of juice, and they gradually meander into the living room. It’s wild to think of the normalcy of us sitting around eating and chatting after everything we just shared. But I guess that’s us.
Them leaving gives me a moment to talk to Bailey alone. She’s gone back to sitting at the kitchen table, and I take the chair beside her instead of across from her. Closer, but not crowding into her space.
“Love the haircut,” I say, wanting to reach out and touch the strands, to run my fingers over the line that frames her face.
“Thanks. Falin did it. I needed a change.”
“Can I get you anything else right now? A drink? More to eat?” I know I’m stumbling over my words, but I want her to be comfortable. I have this ache to take care of her in all the ways I couldn’t before.
“I’m okay. Although, I’ll need some clothes of my own. And Blake said something about finding a clinic today. I should get some blood work… And I have to call my parents…” She trails off, inhaling deeply. When her eyes meet mine again, there’sdampness in the corners. “It’s just hard. I keep thinking about Polly. And talking about it all. And then learning about Sir being your father… Blake’s brother, about King too.”
My chest constricts from the amount of pain in her voice. All these revelations hitting her at once… it’s too much for anyone to process, let alone someone who’s been through what she has.
I reach for her hand tentatively, unsure if she wants to be touched. She meets me halfway, wrapping her fingers in mine, and fuck, the relief that floods through me is overwhelming. It’s something. A first step toward trust.
“I know, love. The whole situation is fucked. But listen, we all love you. We never stopped loving you, or looking for you. We’re going to make this right, okay? I promise.”
“There’s others out there. Not at Sir’s… Well, not that I know of. But back in New York. When you were looking for me… did you find anyone else?”
She sounds almost afraid to find out the answer. “We did… We were able to help some, but not nearly enough.”
“My friends, do you think we could find them? Not now, of course, but soon? You found me, right? Maybe we can find them the same way? Help them?”
