I feel a shift in the air and glance behind me. My sobs have drawn the attention of the guards, who now stand in the doorway, watching me. Heat climbs up my cheeks, and I turn away from the camera in embarrassment. I scoop Harry up into my arms and storm away to my bedroom, which is the only place besides the bathroom that I get to be alone in this joint.
“Dinner,” Harry says sadly.
I have just ruined his meal, which no doubt would have been a culinary experience fit for a king, but I need a cuddle with my baby. Harry seems to sense this and doesn’t fuss too much as I settle down onto the bed, wrapping the comforter around my shoulders and bundling him against my chest with my laptop open in front of me.
I know I should do some work, but I feel like rubbing a little salt in my wounds, so I open YouTube and find one of our family interviews instead. It’s the first one we ever did together. Gabriel made it seem like we were going to enjoy a nice family lunch together.
And then a camera crew showed up.
I remember being so angry with him for ruining what had been, up until that point, such a pleasant afternoon. You can’t tell in the interview though. All the camera picks up is two people in love with each other and the baby they both adore. The perfect little family.
Gabriel’s handsome face grins at me from the screen. I miss the way his wavy black hair, which curled around the bottom of his chin, seemed to absorb the light from the room. I miss the dimple in his left cheek that only came out when he smiled. I miss the dark swirl of his irises, and the barely noticeable crook in his otherwise long, straight nose.
I miss the way it felt when he held me against his hard body, his arms like steel bands, protecting me from the world and all of its horrors.
“Dada!” Harry coos, reaching his chubby fingers for the screen.
Sometimes I forget how much Harry must miss his father too. Seeing him reach for an image, one that’s no more real than his pancakes, breaks my heart. I close the video and quickly put on some cartoons before Harry has a chance to complain.
I grab my phone and start scrolling through my notifications while Harry watches the little cartoon fox dancing on the screen. I have more or less gone off-the-grid since Clara went missing a few days ago, ignoring every call unless there is a chance that Clara will be on the other end of it. So far the only unknown numbers that have called have been telemarketers, disappointingly.
Debbie called a couple times at the beginning of the week, and I see that she called again today. She also sent me a couple of texts demanding that I call her back. I consider waiting until tomorrow, but the feisty Scot will only grow exponentially more annoyed the longer it takes for me to return her call.
I move Harry a little further onto the bed as Debbie’s phone rings.
“Where the hell have you been?” comes her thick Glaswegian drawl. “I worry about you when I don’t hear from you, and you know how much it pisses me off having to worry about you.”
“What a charming sentiment, Debbie.”
“Don’t get fresh with me,” she chides. “You’re in trouble. You may only be freelance now, but I still expect you to pick up the phone when I call.”
I lean my head back against the cushioned headboard and sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s been a tough few days.”
Her voice lowers with concern. “Are you okay, hen?”
Debbie knows better than most what kind of dangers I face on a daily basis. Months ago, when I was just a hungry reporter looking to make my mark in the world, Debbie was the one who set me on Gabriel’s trail. I didn’t know it at the time, but the Irish mob, led by Andrew Walsh, was controlling her, threatening her daughter’s life if she didn’t do exactly as they said.
I had no idea I was a pawn in Andrew Walsh’s game until it was too late, but Debbie was painfully aware of how close we both were to ruin the entire time.
“I’m okay,” I assure her. “Someone tried to attack me the other day, though, so I’m housebound at the minute.”
I can tell even months later she still feels guilty for her role in all this, even though I’ve told her a million times she doesn’t have to. I don’t regret any of it.
Then again, she has a much lower opinion of Gabriel than I do.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Debbie says under her breath. “I swear, Alexis, that man will jump on any excuse to lock you up. He’s got a serious dragon complex.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s not a thing.”
“Aye, it is, and your man’s got it,” she insists. “He likes to guard his riches, keep them locked away from prying eyes and wandering hands.”
“That’s not what this is!” I snap. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about Gabriel!”
Silence from the other end of the line. Even Harry stops giggling and looks over his shoulder at me, curious about the sudden outburst.
My face heats with embarrassment, but rather than apologize to my boss, I hurriedly end the call and fall back against my pillows, releasing a low groan. Knowing Debbie, there’s about a fifty-fifty chance she’ll call back to yell at me. When a few minutes crawl by and she doesn’t, I decide it’s safe to get out of bed and go find myself a snack.
I take Harry and return a few minutes later with a big bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos, a pack of gummy worms, some Funyuns, and a pack of fruit snacks for Harry.
With that, we’re set for a rainy afternoon in bed.
Later that night, I listen to the pitter-patter of raindrops against the window and Harry’s gentle breaths coming through the baby monitor. It feels like the whole world is asleep except me. Even the traffic noises that would normally run continuously throughout the night are practically nonexistent.
I think about the slowly blinking red light of the living room camera and wonder if Gabriel is awake too. Probably. He seemed to barely sleep at the best of times, and now he has a murder charge hanging over his head on top of everything else.
I think about Clara. I wonder if she is sleeping, wherever she is. I hope so. I don’t know where she is, if someone took her, or if she just ran away, but my heart tells me she wouldn’t just disappear without a word. Something has happened to her, and she could be staring into the dark right now, listening to the rain, wondering if she will ever make it home alive.
I blink away tears and sit up in bed, reaching for my laptop. Despite snapping at Debbie today, and ignoring her calls in the days prior, my work is still very important to me. I let myself sink into it now, going through my notes and research from the various stories I have been following to find threads that I can tug on.
I work late into the night until my eyes are heavy, and the words blur together on the screen. When I finally give in to the pull of sleep, I imagine that I can feel Gabriel’s weight on the bed next to me. I imagine I can feel his heat radiating between us. Maybe if I reach out, I could touch him.
Outside, it is still raining.
9
Gabriel
Watching Alexis on the camera has become a guilty pleasure of mine, verging on addiction. With less work to do on a daily basis, I have more time to fill. And Alexis is just begging to be watched. She has started speaking to the cameras on a regular basis, like her life confined to the apartment is a reality show with an audience of one.