The Space Between Us Read online

  I finally managed to scream. Not very loud, since I had no breath and my face was smashed into the carpet. I was a mass of pain. I had glass in my hair; I could hear it crunching against the carpet.

  “Tesla?”

  The weight on my back disappeared. The hurting, grabbing hands turned kind, helping me up before leaving me to sit woozily. The lights came on.

  “Shit. Oh, shit, Tesla. What the fuck were you doing?” Vic crouched in front of me, grasping my upper arms gently. “Oh, honey. What the hell?”

  It must’ve been really bad for him to call me honey, an endearment he used only when the kids or Elaine were hurt or sick. I drew in a breath, thinking to yell at him, and found no voice. My elbow throbbed, but I didn’t think I was cut. My face hurt, my back and shoulders ached and even my knees felt scraped raw.

  Vic stroked my hair off my forehead with his fingertips, looking into my eyes. “I’m sorry. Christ, you’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.”

  I hadn’t noticed the gun. A SIG Sauer pistol, strapped to his belt in a leather case. I’d seen it hundreds of times before, of course. Had even shot it a few times on the range. I knew what sort of damage it could do, and yet I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around why Vic would have used it on me.

  “I heard someone trying to get in,” he said. “Then the dog barking next door. Someone at the back door. I didn’t know it was you. Dammit, Tesla, why didn’t you just knock? Or, Christ, call me? I’d have let you in!”

  “I didn’t want to wake you,” I managed to say. My mouth felt numb, my lips swollen. I realized I could taste blood. I’d bitten my tongue.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  “What was I thinking? What were you thinking, playing Rambo? Why didn’t you turn on the lights first, see who it was before you jumped me? God, Vic, did you really think it was someone breaking in?”

  “Yes,” he said flatly. “I did.”

  I swallowed blood and pressed my fingers to the inside corners of my eyes. “Shit, I broke the window.”

  “Are you cut? Bleeding?” He started probing my arm. “Your coat’s ripped.”

  “Great. That was my favorite coat. Son of a bitch, Vic.”

  “I’ll buy you another one.” He flexed my elbow. “It’s not broken. What about the rest of you? Take this off. Let me check you out.”

  I jerked away from him and got to my unsteady feet. “You’ve done enough.”

  Vic stood, too. “I said I was sorry. Jesus, Tesla. I’m supposed to apologize for wanting to protect my family? I thought someone was down here. I thought maybe he’d go after you…hurt you....”

  My anger was fading, replaced by bruises. I couldn’t stay mad at him. It had been pretty dumb of me to try coming in through the window. And his concern touched me enough that tears welled up.

  “Shit,” Vic said miserably. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry. Don’t, please?”

  I swiped at my face. “I think I need some ice.”

  “C’mon. I’ll help you.” And he did, up the stairs into the kitchen, where he made me sit quietly at the table while I took off my coat and we examined my elbow.

  Vic handed me an economy-size bag of frozen peas. “Here. The kids won’t eat these, anyway.”

  I put them on my face over my right eye, the one that had been most mashed into the floor. “Thanks.”

  He made us both tea, taking the kettle off the burner before it could whistle, then sat across from me with his mug in his big hands. We didn’t say much. I was really starting to ache, and didn’t want to say anything, since complaining would make him feel bad.

  “You should call off work,” Vic said. “Maybe even go to the doctor.”

  Calling off work was a definite. I didn’t think I could keep my eyes open for my shift, much less be perky. Or deal with Joy. “I don’t need a doctor. Just sleep.”

  “I’m sorry,” Vic said again.

  I put the peas on the table between us so I could sip at the hot tea. Once again we were sharing time in the dark, waiting for the sun to rise while the house slept all around us. It seemed as good a time as any, so I asked, “What the hell is going on with you?”

  He didn’t say anything. He turned the mug around and around until the whisper of the porcelain against the wood had me reaching over to put my hand on his wrist. He stopped. He still wore the gun on his belt, though I couldn’t see it below the edge of the table. But it made me realize something else.

  “You have your clothes on.”

  “Yeah? What?”

  My frown hurt my mouth. “I mean, you weren’t wearing pajamas.”

  “I put these on when I got up. When I heard someone trying to break in.”

  “Which was me.” I sipped hot tea and winced at how it burned my bitten tongue. I glanced over at him, caught his eye. Knew something at once by the shifty gaze. “Liar.”

  “Fine. I was already up.”

  “Because you hadn’t gone to bed yet? What were you doing?”

  “Putting together the crib in the baby’s room. Making sure it was all good. Meets the regs and all that.” Vic twisted the mug in his hands again, but stopped when he saw my look.

  “You couldn’t wait to do that until the morning? The baby’s not coming tonight, Vic.” And even if it did, it would sleep in the bassinet in their room with them for the first few months.

  “I was maybe doing some stuff on the laptop, too.”

  This was completely out of character for him. Vic hardly ever used the ancient desktop, having given it up to the kids and sad-sack me when my laptop died. He’d bought Elaine a laptop to use on the days her pregnancy sickness kept her in bed. She could watch movies on it, check her email, pay bills and shop. I’d never known Vic to use it, but apparently that didn’t mean he didn’t.

  “In the baby’s room?”

  “Elaine was sleeping.” He sounded defensive. “I had to look up some stuff about how to put the crib together—stupid instructions were missing. And some other stuff.”

  Here’s the thing about Vic—he’s a magnificent liar. It makes him an excellent card player, and he never gives away what he bought you for your birthday. He can look you in the eye and tell you a flat-out, even outrageous, lie without blinking, and have you so convinced he’s telling the truth you’d go to court and swear it in front of a judge. The fact I knew he was lying now wasn’t due to any special skill on my part, no supernaturally close bond we shared. If he was letting me see the lie, it was because, for some reason, he wanted me to see it.

  “You’re going back to it. Thinking about it, anyway. Aren’t you.” I didn’t want any more tea, but I drank some to give me some nonchalant action to add to my deliberately casual tone.

  Again, Vic said nothing, which was more than enough of an answer.

  “So…why the big secret?” I asked. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Vic.”

  “Elaine doesn’t know.”

  “That you’re thinking of going back to your old job?”

  “That I used to have an old job.”

  Stunned, I sat back in my chair. “What?”

  “She doesn’t know,” Vic said in a warning voice. “And I’m not sure I want her to know. Not yet.”

  “You can’t…this is…” Again, words failed me. I shook my head, which made it ache. I put the peas back against my eye. “You have to tell her.”

  “Of course I have to tell her,” he snapped. “Especially if I go back. Which I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Where is all of this coming from?” The peas were getting warm, but still felt good on my eye. They had the added benefit of blocking part of my vision, so I didn’t have to look him in the face while all this was going on. I wasn’t sure what my expression looked like.

  “A buddy of mine called me up. Said they needed some good guys on this new team he was setting up here in Harrisburg. Said he could guarantee me a great starting salary. Benefits. In case you didn’t notice, Tesla, I have another kid on the way.”

&nb