Weeks of the same had passed until it all became routine. If Harley ever left, either White or Henshaw was right behind her, often both. Their peers had gotten used to this and didn't mind much either way as they tended to go with the flow. The only person who was truly oblivious to it all was Joker, who was simply happy to have Harley out of his hair and didn't care to think of the reason behind it.
Anyone could see that Harley was in a better frame of mind. She wasn't as jumpy and clearly had regained some of her confidence. Occasionally, she'd even return from one of her outings with treats for the boys, like boxes of donuts. Harley would have been a pleasure to be around if one was willing to risk spending time with her. White and Henshaw knew this all too well because she'd often be willing to spend a little extra on them. If she was getting food, she insisted they order too. If she ordered a drink, she'd buy them a round. It was different having a boss that treated you like a human being.
Then a day passed when neither White nor Henshaw saw Harley at all. Worried that she had left without them, they asked around the hideout but no one had seen her and everyone agreed that she must still be there, in the back where they weren't allowed. It was a bit unsettling because not a day had gone by since they took up protection of Harley that she did not at least give them a hello.
The following day Harley did emerge, much to White's relief. She immediately declared that she wanted to go out and, in fact, had already donned her large shades and a hat with an oversized brim. She wanted to go the bar, not for target practice, but for a chance to be able to sit down and eat without worry. When they arrived and grabbed their usual table, Harley took off the hat and the glasses to reveal a swollen purple eye.
"Nice shiner," Henshaw commented simply. "Want the usual?" Harley smiled and nodded as though everything was fine and Henshaw headed to the bar to make the order. She reminded him not to forget himself and White as he left.
White knew he should act and feel as nonchalantly as Henshaw at Harley's appearance. So she got a little roughed up? Happens all the time. But looking at her filled him with rage. Someone as kind as his sister should have the best in life, not some abusive son of a bitch that wouldn't appreciate her. No…not his sister, he reminded himself…Harley.
She just sat there sweet as could be, not wanting to trouble anyone. She was talking to him about something irrelevant and he knew he wasn't picking any of it up. Even though the subject never arose, White knew with all his heart that if her injury was questioned she'd instantly defend her man. After all, that's what his sister always did. How do you protect someone when they refuse to be protected? Not that it mattered. What was he going to do? Threaten the boss?
"You haven't touched your food," Harley said to White. He hadn't even realized Henshaw had returned, much less that food had been placed in front of him. He wasn't very hungry but started to eat anyway rather than give the impression that something was bothering him.
Henshaw had joined in whatever conversation Harley had started. White knew he shouldn't be mad at either of them, but the fact they were acting like everything was business as usual was driving him crazy. Knowing that he was the only one that appeared upset was maddening, though he was sure Harley was. She had to be.
After they had finished eating, Henshaw's cell phone rang. He asked White if he'd be okay with him taking off. White assumed it must be one of Henshaw's lady friends and agreed. Harley was ready to go home anyway. He'd just be walking her back.
It was a quiet walk. Harley seemed to realize he was upset but didn't want to bring it up. While they were walking, White's mind drifted to his sister. He never felt like he did enough for her. An idea occurred to him that he figured wouldn't be breaking any major unspoken rule. Walking the line maybe, but certainly within limits. It occurred to him how fortunate he was to be alone with Harley that night, as Henshaw wouldn't have understood.
White cleared his throat, causing Harley to look up at him. "Y'know," he started slowly, looking straight ahead, avoiding eye contact, "I was thinkin', me and Henshaw aren't around when you turn in and you might need somethin' one day so maybe I should give you my phone number, just so you can reach me if you need to...y'know…whatever."
"That sounds okay," Harley agreed.
She searched through her purse and dug out a scrap of paper and a pen. White took it and scribbled down his number. Then he paused with his pen still on the paper, turning his head to look her dead in the eyes only to be met with dark lenses. Harley seemed to understand that he was trying to read her so she removed them.
"Can I trust you?" White asked with the utmost seriousness. "I mean, really trust you?"
"Yes. Yes, you can." Her eyes held no lie.
"I'm writing down my address," he explained in a whisper, as though unseen ears could hear. "The only other person that knows it is Henshaw. I know he'd never hand it out. You can't give it away for any reason. I don't care if you think I'm dead and want to send someone to check up on me. No one can get this." Harley nodded in understanding. He handed her the paper. "If you need a place to hole up for awhile, to hide, for any reason, you feel free to come, but," he leaned in close and said darkly, "you best be sure you aren't followed."
Harley agreed and with a couple of tears running down her cheeks jumped up and hugged him tightly around the neck. White wasn't comfortable returning the gesture but accepted it and patted her once or twice lightly on the back.
Harley released him, regained her composure, and placed the glasses back on her face. When they began walking again, it was lighter and she asked him with a smile, "Feel better now?"
"Hey now!" he responded in protest. "Don't start your psycho babble on me!"