Twelve

I stroll back into the roadhouse for the second time in twenty four hours, only this time I use the front door instead of sneaking around. As I approach Brannigan's table, two of his heavies lumber away from the bar, flanking me as I get nearer, but he waves them away, along with that girl, Mimi, who's sat on his lap. 'Give us a minute sweetheart.'

She glares at me but doesn't argue, just picks up her glass, hips swaying as she slowly walks away.

I wait for what feels like forever until they're out of earshot, before I finally speak. 'It's done.'

'Fast work.' Brannigan smirks at me. 'Where's the body?'

'In a ditch, somewhere south of Enid, miles from anywhere. Ain't no one finding him any time soon.'

'Where exactly?'

'Pretty sure it'll be better if you don't know. What is it they call it? Plausible deniability or some kinda shit like that?'

'And I'm pretty sure we don't have a deal, without you giving me some kind of concrete proof.'

I reach into my inside pocket and toss the blood stained bank notes and Robbie's tattered drivers licence down on the table in front of him.

He picks them up, turns them over in his hand then chucks them to the ground. 'Means nothing.'

'That's why I brought you this, too. A little memento.' I place the dented tobacco tin in front of him. 'The kid's not gonna be bothering you no more.'

Brannigan pries off the lid, peers inside. 'You take this when he was already dead? Or before?'

'Before.' I shrug, force myself to grin at him, like it's no big deal. Plus technically it is the truth, the kid was alive.

As Brannigan reaches to pick up the contents, I avert my gaze and try not to picture the surprising amount of blood, or Robbie's endless screaming even though he agreed to it, because we both knew Brannigan would demand some kind of proof. And losing a finger had to be better than losing your life, right?

Brannigan holds the severed finger up to the light, then turns it and examines the tattoo on the knuckle, just above the chunky gold signet ring. laughs. 'Jesus, Shepard. Reckon maybe I missed a trick, not recruiting you, back in big Mac.'

'So we're good?' I ask, ignoring his last remark. 'The deal stands?'

'Yeah, Shepard. We're good.'

I nod, turn on my heel and saunter towards the door, fighting the temptation to run as fast as I can away from this nightmare.

I rest my head against the tiles. The scalding water courses down my back, the heat slowly seeping in to me, warming my aching bones. I don't have the energy to move. Slowly, the grime of the last two days washes off of my skin, but inside all the layers of guilt and unease remain.

Finally, when the hot water begins to give out, the rapidly cooling temperature forces me to move. Grabbing for a towel, I begin patting my skin dry, when I hear something. My shoulders tense, as I stand still and listen.

A car door slams.

Maybe Brannigan's changed his mind, or worse, found out the truth already and knows I lied to him.

Quick footsteps cross the porch.

Grabbing my grubby jeans back out the laundry, I struggle to pull them on as quickly and quietly as I can manage while the heavy denim fights against me, clinging to my damp skin. Holding my breath, I push my back up against the wall, and wait.

'Tim? Hello?' The front door clicks shut. 'Are you home?'

'In here!' I yell, my heart in my mouth at the sound of her voice. I tug open the bathroom door, stumbling out into the hall towards Leigh. 'Hi, are you—' The question dies on my lips as I look past her. No sign of the kids, she's here on her own. Nothing's changed.

'What's going on? Your brother turned up at Sylvia's earlier, ranting and raving on how he hadn't seen you since Friday night and he was supposed to be starting his shift but you still had his car. Then he started pouring out a whole load of gibberish about McAlester and how he thought you'd done something awful and you were in some kind of trouble. I needed to pick up some more things for Grace and Anthony anyway, so I gave him a ride to work, promised him I'd see if you were back here, let him know whether you were okay.'

'Right.' I fold my arms, unfold them again and drag a hand through my hair as Leigh crosses the hall so we're no more than six inches apart.

'So are you?' She looks up, holding my gaze. 'Okay, I mean?'

'Yeah. I'm fine. Was planning on heading over to see you, once I'd finished cleaning myself up. Curly's an idiot. He shouldn't be worrying you over nothing.'

'Hardly sounds like nothing, the way Curly tells it. He was in a real mess, Tim, worst I've seen him since your mom... He was terrified you weren't coming home, after what you'd told him about McAlester, seemed convinced you were going to do the same again.'

A shiver crawls up my spine, at how near the mark she is. Leigh rests a hand on my cheek, tracing the lines of my scars with her fingertips.

'Come on, Leigh.' I place my hand over hers, press my lips to the soft skin on the inside of her wrist. 'You know how my brother is, always making everything into more of a drama than it really is.'

'I guess. But why tell him now, when you never did before?'

I shrug. 'Because I'm a jackass. I was drunk and angry and hurting, shooting my mouth off rather than admit the only reason you'd gone was because of me.'

'No. There's more to it than that. You've barely mentioned anything about McAlester in years now, even to me.' She steps back, her fingers still entwined with mine. 'So what's the real reason you dragged it all up again?'

I squeeze the bridge of my nose, unsure how to begin. How in hell can I answer that without dragging her into it all?

Leigh's hand slips from mine. 'Well, I guess I should get on.'

She retreats into the kids bedroom, emerges only a minute or two later with a grocery bag, stuffed with clothes and a couple more of their favourite toys, while I stand here, rooted to the spot.

As she heads for the door, she pauses in front of me. She rests her hand on my arm, her gaze downcast. 'If you wanted to come see the kids later, or after work tomorrow. Then it would be okay. And will you ring your brother, let him know you're back?'

'Sure,' I mumble.

'Bye then, Tim.' She bobs up, her lips brushing my cheek with the briefest of kisses, then walks away from me again.

'Leigh, hang on a sec.' I stumble down the hall after her. I can't stand here and watch her leaving, not again.

Her shoulders slump as she sighs, but at least she stops. 'What is it?'

'It was when I was working for Chris, I ran into some guys from those days, who were inside the same time as me. And one of them, he's a real asshole, was the guy who sent them after my buddy, Walt.'

'Jesus, Tim.' The bag drops from her hand, landing on the carpet with a soft thud.

'So yeah, there was a bit of a misunderstanding, some tension between me and them. Which is what all that shit was with those two jerks on Friday. But, I've dealt with it, went up there yesterday to thrash it out with the guy.'

'What d'you mean, thrash it out? Not more fighting, Tim?'

'No. We talked, nothing more, and now it's all sorted. We came to an understanding, so no one's going to bother us again, I swear. So please, can we work on fixing things between us too?'

I rest my hand on her hip, and instinctively Leigh leans against me, allows me to draw her into my embrace, and wraps her arms around me.

'I miss you,' I murmur against her hair, breathing in the scent of her, coconut shampoo, layered over sweet vanilla of her perfume, my hands and mind wandering, as I kiss her, softly, hopefully. 'Stay?'

'I should probably get going, before Sylvia thinks I've left the country or something.' Leigh sits up, the bed sheets clutched around her as she stretches to pick up her discarded clothes from the floor and slips on her panties, arms twisted awkwardly for a second or two as she struggles to fasten her bra.

'Don't go.' I sit up behind her, brush her hair to the side as I trail my lips down her neck and across her shoulders, snake a hand around her waist. 'Please? I need you, Leigh. I love you, so, so much. So how about we pick up our kids, bring them home and be a family again?'

Leigh twists her head, kisses me softly, then shakes her head. 'I... God, you know I love you, Tim. But I don't know if it's enough any more. One minute you say you want a family, how this is where you want to be, but—

'It is, I swear. You and the kids, you're all that matter. I promise—'

'No.' Leigh raises her hand and presses a finger to my lips to silence me. 'I told you the other day, I'm sick of empty promises, Tim. Being with you, like this, it's great. But there has to be more than the physical stuff keeping us together, otherwise pretty soon we'll end up hating each other, and that's not fair on anyone.'

'So what do I do? Tell me what it is and I'll do it, Leigh. Whatever it takes. Just come home.'

She gnaws at her bottom lip for a few seconds, then eventually nods. 'Alright. We'll get dressed, go fetch the kids. But you have to change, Tim. Stick at the job with Darrel, spend time with Anthony and Grace, and this little one, when they get here. Talk to me, properly, not just saying what you think I want to hear.' She shifts my hand, resting it on the soft curve of her stomach, as she kisses me. 'Be the man I married again.'

'Quick, come here, quiet now! Daddy's coming!' I can hear Leigh's stage whisper, Grace's giggle and Tony's seriousness as he shushes his sister, a smile working its way onto my face as I head towards the kitchen.

'Happy birthday, Daddy!' The kids rush me as I crouch down, drawing them both into a hug.

'We made you a chocolate cake, come see.' Anthony drags at my hand, his fingers still sticky with the frosting they've been smothering it with.

'Wow, that's amazing, kiddo. And you two did this all by yourselves?'

He laughs. 'No, silly. Momma helped us.'

'Maybe a little bit.' Leigh laughs, kisses me quickly, then takes a half step back. Two weeks in, and things are going better between us, good even at times. But even though she's back there's still an air of awkwardness hanging over us, no matter how hard each of us tries to pretend everything's just fine. 'Happy birthday, Tim.'

I catch a hold of Leigh's hand, thread my fingers through hers. There's so much I want to say, but I can't find the right words in the fleeting seconds before Grace starts up tugging at Leigh's dress and Anthony pleads for her to cut the cake now. So she's slipping away and the moment is lost beneath the chaos of cake eating, bath times and bedtime stories.

'Well, they're both in bed anyway.' Leigh sinks down onto the couch next to me, leans her head against my shoulder. 'Though maybe in hindsight so much sugar was a bad idea, reckon it might be hours before Tony winds down and actually goes to sleep.'

'You want me to go check on him?'

'In a while, maybe.' Leigh stifles a yawn.

'You feeling okay?'

'I'm fine, a bit tired.'

I wrap an arm around her, rest my hand on her stomach. 'And everything's going alright with this little one?'

'Yeah.' She places her hand over mine. 'You reckon it'll be a boy or a girl?'

'Another girl.' I kiss the top of her head. 'And she'll be smart and pretty, like her mom and her big sister. Trust me, two boys has to be way more trouble than a pair of girls, if me and Curly are anything to go by.'

'Oh yeah?' Leigh smiles up at me. 'I'll make sure and remind you of that when you've got two teenage girls in the house, and both of them start dating.'

The phone is already ringing as I step in through the door. 'Hello?'

'You really think you could get away with lying to me, Shepard? Or believe I wouldn't find out in the end?'

'What the hell you talking about, Brannigan?' I fight to keep my voice even as my mind races, racking my brains to remember where in hell Leigh told me she had planned for the day. Running around town doing errands whilst I take up Darrel's offer of a few extra hours of overtime, on a Saturday morning. Pretty sure she said she was going to the grocery store, the pharmacy...something else...where else?

'The kid, Robbie. You must be even dumber than he is. Thinking you could pull one over me.'

'Don't know what you mean. Told you before, the kid's in the ground.'

'Then explain to me how he's ringing his broad to let her know he's had to leave town for a bit, but he's safe down in New Mexico and he'll send her the money for a bus ticket soon as he can. So now I've had to send someone else down there to find him. Someone who'll do the job right, like you were supposed to.'

Shit. Shit. Shit. I stand frozen to the spot, unable to speak. Three weeks in and I'd let myself relax, convinced myself that he believed me, and and the bullshit story I'd passed off as the truth.

'What's wrong? Cat got your tongue, Shepard?' Brannigan laughs. 'Your kid, he's getting real grown up, ain't he. Real brave on the jungle gym.'

...The park. Leigh told me they were gonna stop at the park on their way home, let Tony blow off some steam, burn up some of his seemingly endless supply of energy.

The phone clatters down against the table and the front door rattles on its hinges as I bolt out the house.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's still reading.