It had been a long day.
New Orleans wasn't as welcoming as Teresa had hoped it would be. The people here had a different way of doing business and they didn't like her stepping in. A warehouse had been burned. Someone had left an alligator head on her doorstep. And just before she had decided to relax for the night Javier had to go meet with a buyer who wanted more product than he paid for and was ready to blackmail them to get it.
She just wanted to take a bubble bath and turn her brain off for a few hours. She thought of calling up her new 'friend', but as good as the sex was she didn't have the energy. So instead she climbed the stairs to her bedroom and stripped down to her bra and panties. She looked to the bathroom longingly, trying to find the will to go turn on the water. It was silly, really, how such a small thing could seem so impossible right then.
Finally she left her place resting against the wall and made her way into the bathroom. She loved it. Every time she walked in, her entire body relaxed. The heated tiles felt so nice under her bare feet. The marble countertops contrasted nicely with the blue walls. But the deep claw-foot tub was her favorite part.
She went to it and turned on the water, making sure the temperature was just right. Then she headed into the walk-in closet attached to the bathroom to find something to put on after her bath. Her hand was shifting through the different pieces of nightclothes when she heard it- the soft scrape of her balcony door opening. Her hand fell away from the clothes and she turned towards the small drawer behind her. Quietly she opened it and pulled out the handgun she kept there.
There were no footsteps that she could hear, but Teresa had learned a long time ago that the senses could fail you. She quickly pulled on a robe. Cautiously, she stepped into the bathroom, making sure not to stand where the person in her room could see her. Through the crack behind the door she could see most of the room, but she didn't see the intruder. She turned off the water as she thought about her options. There was only one. She had to go out there. She couldn't just let this person wander her house. So she took a calming breath and, gun ready, walked out slowly.
The first thing she saw was blood. It was bright against her cream carpet. The second thing she saw was that the balcony door was closed and locked. Whoever came in either didn't want her to escape or didn't want to be followed in. The blood made her think it was the second reason. She slowly edged along the room, her back to the wall, until she could see the other side of her bed.
Her heart stopped.
His eyes were closed but his gun was steady in his hand and trained on her. His free hand was pressed to his side, blood covering his fingers. She tossed her gun onto the bed and rushed forward, dropping to her knees in front of him. "James," she whispered, hands reaching for him without thought. "James look at me. What happened?"
She carefully pulled his hand away from his side and winced at the stab wound she found. Quickly she grabbed a handful of her sheet and tore it, folding it into something close to a bandage. She pressed it firmly against the wound, apologizing softly when he let out a grunt of pain. She looked at his face for a second, and found his dark eyes staring back at her. Something inside her broke a little at the pain she saw there.
"What happened, James?"
His eyes slid shut again. "Job went bad. Someone gave me up." She nodded even though he wasn't looking at her. Pulling the fabric away, Teresa grabbed the hem of James' shirt and started to lift. She needed to see how bad it really was. She needed to get him cleaned up and stitched properly. But his hand on her wrist stopped her. "Don't." She frowned. She had seen James shirtless before. She had seen him wounded before. She didn't understand what the problem was now.
"You can't stay like this. We need to get you cleaned up."
But he was already shaking his head. "Not you. Get Charger." She tried not to be hurt by that, but she was. They hadn't ended on the best terms, but she had thought…He had to know she would never do anything to hurt him. "It's okay, Teresa. Just go get Charger. It's okay." She felt tears sting her eyes and useless anger flood her veins. But she stood up.
It took her two minutes to get the first aid kit, find Charger and bring him to her room. She didn't explain why she needed him. She assumed the first aid kit made it obvious. And she was too worried that James would have passed out from blood loss to think of a proper explanation. So when Charger saw James, Teresa was surprised at how hesitant the man seemed to help him.
James opened his eyes and nodded at Charger. The other man didn't return the acknowledgment. But if it bothered James he didn't let it show. His eyes found hers and he tilted his head towards the door. She stood frozen for a moment as she realized what he wanted. He wanted her to leave. He was hurt and he wanted her to leave him. That wasn't what they did. That was never how they were- she didn't know how to leave him when he was hurting.
"I'm not leaving."
He stared her down for a long time. But she couldn't leave him. Finally, he let his eyes close again. He was blocking her out- ignoring her as if she didn't exist. And something inside of her tore apart, was hollowed out. She hadn't meant to break them this way. But then the anger was back, stronger, because he had found her. He had come to her house and stepped into her bedroom. She hadn't been looking for him. So he didn't get to treat her like she was the inconvenience.
Then Charger pulled his shirt off and Teresa understood.
Scars littered every inch of his torso. Burns and cuts, stab wounds and brands. She couldn't hold in the gasp of horror- of pain- she felt at seeing what had been done to him. But what held her transfixed, what destroyed her to her core, was one word- one name- carved in neat letters across his chest.
Teresa
"James? Wha- Who did this to you?" She heard the brokenness in her voice. She felt tears on her cheeks and the tight aching weight of sobs in her chest. She forced herself to look away from the ruined flesh of his torso and find his eyes. And in his eyes she saw so much. She saw pain, a regret, and sadness- so many things. But she understood why he wanted her to leave. Not because he didn't trust her- he didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want her to see this.
He took a deep breath and shifted a little. She knew he was trying to find a more comfortable position. Charger had cleaned him up while Teresa had been trying to understand what she was seeing. Now, the man was carefully stitching up the knife wound in James' side. James winced as the needle pushed through his skin, but kept his eyes on her.
"It doesn't matter. I just needed somewhere safe to crash for the night. I'll be gone by morning." But Teresa shook her head at that. There was no way she was just letting him leave like this. And she definitely wasn't letting him go back to whoever had done this to him. She opened her mouth to tell him that, but he stopped her. "You can't fix this, Teresa. I need you to leave it alone."
Charger looked at her over his shoulder. She saw something in his eyes that made her feel like everything was crumbling around her. The look said, 'Let him do this'. It said, 'He wants to protect you'. She took a deep breath- held it- let go. "Charger, are you finished?" The man nodded slowly, turning back to place a clean bandage over the fresh stitches. "I need a minute with James."
Charger stood up, nodding at James, then left the room. The door closed softly behind him before Teresa moved to sit in front of James. Her hand reached out involuntarily to trace the scars that covered his abs and chest. Each one felt different but the same. And as her fingers brushed against them it was as if she could feel them on her own skin. Her hand shook slightly as she hovered above her name where it was carved into his skin. But his hand caught her wrist before she could touch him.
"You look good." Tears pricked her eyes, but she ignored them. James' hand slid from her wrist to catch her fingers, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand softly. "You've got a nice place, here." She watched as he tilted his head to the side, a smirk coming to his lips. "Security could be better, though." Her fingers squeezed his a little tighter. Her free hand rose and her fingers danced across his bottom lip. "Teresa…"
"I missed you. I still miss you." He stayed silent. She hadn't really expected anything else. But she could see it in his eyes that he felt the same way. It made her wonder… "Did you really leave because of Bolivia?" Her name on his chest made her think that maybe he hadn't had as much of a choice as she thought he did. And the way his expression went carefully blank didn't convince her otherwise. "Tell me." Slowly he shook his head. Her hand dropped from his lips to his chest. He didn't try to stop her this time as her fingers traced the letters of her name. "Still trying to keep me alive?" she whispered.
"You keep yourself alive. I just make sure your plans work." She shook her head. He did more than that. She just hadn't always seen it. "There are some powerful people who want me out of the way. And they won't hesitate to make your life difficult if I don't cooperate." He pulled her hand from his chest, ducking his head to make eye contact. "This isn't your fault, Teresa. You couldn't have stopped this." But how did he know? She hadn't had a chance to try.
Suddenly she was more tired than she had been before all of this. She looked down at herself and saw the silk robe that hung loosely on her. She didn't have the energy to take the bath she had wanted. And she didn't want to leave James alone that long- even if it was just the next room. With a heavy sigh, Teresa stood up, holding her hand out to help James to his feet. They stood there, facing each other for a moment. It was so familiar- and so foreign, now. She wondered if it would always be that way between them now.
Not lovers, but more- not friends but…more.
Pulling back the covers, Teresa gently pushed James to sit on her bed. She winced as he hissed in pain, but she didn't stop. She unlaced his boot and took them off. Then she helped him get comfortable in the bed. She covered him with the sheet- he didn't like sleeping with blankets on him. She quickly went to turn the bathroom light off, then the room light as well, before climbing into the bed next to James.
The moon was just coming through the clouds, enough for her to see somewhat clearly. He was staring at the ceiling. She was staring at him. His hand reached out and hers moved to meet it. She laced their fingers together and shifted closer to him. They laid in silence, neither wanting to be the one to speak first. Both knowing what they had to say was too much and not enough. So the silence held and she watched him until her eyes grew too heavy.
Finally she drifted into sleep.
She woke to blood on her sheets and a note on her pillow.
~T.
Thank you. For everything.
Take care of yourself.
Put two guys under the balcony.
I'll see you soon.
J.~
She slipped the note under her lamp. She got out of bed and tossed the sheets in the dirty clothes. She took a shower.
I'll see you soon.
She smiled.