Chapter 86

The One With A Plan

NATE

Four Days After the Events of 82 — The One With A Revelation

A burner phone. A late-night phone call. An overzealous disguise. A car ride to a remote location. A cab called from said burner phone. It took a lot to get here, but as I adjust the turtleneck I’m wearing to cover my neck tattoos, I reassure myself that it’s necessary.

A little girl with brown curls and the bluest of eyes runs past me, her mother frantically chasing after her wild child. Paranoid, I fix my sunglasses on the bridge of my nose, ensuring my beanie is still concealing my blue locks. I breathe a sigh of relief when both of them fly past me without a second glance.

Eventually, I see Hayes on the horizon of the park, approaching me in jogging gear. He follows the path, as if he’s any other guy that’s out for his morning jog. The closer he comes, the more nervous I get, until he’s right in front of me and I have the urge to vomit. Suspiciously, I glance around us, ensuring that we’re not being watched.

“What is it?” He doesn’t even bother to greet me, and I grab his arm to yank him close.

“Did you know that Ezra’s out?”

He runs a hand through his hair, seating himself on the bench. “Yeah, he managed to play it off as some improper police work or something.”

“And you didn’t warn me why?”

With a loud exhale, he admits, “What did you expect me to do? He made contact with you within two hours of getting out. I’d only heard about it when you’d already met with him.”

“How could you possibly know that I’ve already met with him?”

“You know we were watching him before he went in. We’ve been watching Langley to see what Ezra’s been directing him to do from inside.”

I want to ask him why—if he knew I’d been in contact with Ezra—he didn’t get in touch with me. I would assume that once he heard I’d seen Ezra, that he’d want to know every detail of what happened and what we talked about. However, when I really think about it, I haven’t told Hayes every single thing that Ezra and I have spoken about. It’s only the applicable shit that he can use to further help build a case against him.

Plus, if I didn’t tell him, how would he have known? I mean, Ezra didn’t exactly threaten me that day. Sure, I could’ve given him a heads up that Ezra was out, but I was so distracted by it all, that it honestly didn’t even cross my mind.

“Did he say something at that meeting?” He meets my gaze, looking at me with concern. “Did something happen? Why didn’t you come to me, I—”

“Hayes, fuck! Slow down,” I scold. I can barely think straight.

He opens his mouth to ask something else, but quickly shuts it when he sees how distressed I am. I seat myself beside him and sink my head into my hands. “Just start from the beginning,” he encourages, placing a hand to the space on my back between my shoulder blades.

I don’t even remember everything I’ve told him, so I start from a time that seems like fucking months ago. “When we got back from holiday, I’d found my house had been broken into. They fuckin’ smashed everything. What they couldn’t smash or destroy, they fuckin’ stole.” I sigh, “I went to visit Langley to see if there was anything I could do to get back some of my more valuable, sentimental items.”

“Nate —” I can hear it in his voice, he’s about to scold me for my dumb ass decision, but I hold my hand up to shut him up before he begins. The last fucking thing I need is for someone to lay into me for the choices I’ve made. I understand that they won’t be universally accepted. I fucking get that. I fucking comprehend that I fucked up and I’ve been eating myself up about it ever since.

I’ve put all of us in danger.

Don’t you think the guilt I feel is enough? Do others need to pile it on me? Does an already down man really need to be further kicked?

“Langley seemed weird when I met him,” I confess. “I don’t know if it was legit or just an act, but he seemed really off. I asked him if I could get some of my belongings back. I figured maybe after we’d worked together and considering I saved his ass, that he’d maybe do me that tiny favour.”

I expect Hayes to react to that, but he doesn’t.

“Anyways, he led me to some secret path in behind the walls—somewhere I’d never been—and he took me to Ezra’s office. Eventually, Ezra popped out and said that he was cleared of all charges.”

“He was.”

Fuck. “He must’ve been watching Langley and I’s conversation or something, ‘cause he knew what we were chatting about and he told me I needed to give him a week to think over a way to repay him for the shit that he stole from me.”

When I’m done telling the story, I twist to glance at him to find that he appears to be overcome with sadness.

“I know,” I mutter, “I fucked everything up.”

I’m surprised when he shakes his head. “You didn’t.”

“If I wouldn’t have gone to meet with Langley. If—”

“Nate,” he interrupts, “Whether you know it or not, it wasn’t your choice. It doesn’t matter that you happened to go to Ezra Sullivan first. If you wouldn’t have, he would’ve had you hauled down there sooner or later. It wasn’t your choice,” he reiterates.

I don’t know what to respond to that, so I stay quiet. Somewhere inside me, I know that he’s right but I’m not done beating myself up over it yet. Until I’m sure that Arielle is safe, I won’t be done beating myself up.

“Listen, we have a man on the inside and he’s been feeding us info,” Hayes informs me, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

Alright, so that’s how he knew I was at Ezra’s to begin with. That’s how he was aware of the fact that I’d met with the devil himself after him having been only a few hours fresh out of prison. I didn’t even know that fact myself.

“Ezra’s planning some big shit, we believe. If the rumblings my guy has heard are true, of course.”

I swallow hard, nervous about where this is going. I mean, Ezra’s never been up to any good, but how far is he really willing to go? I begin to tap my leg, feeling overly anxious as I inquire, “What have you heard?”

“That he’s been telling people that he has plans to end shit with you for once and for all.” He pauses and it appears as if it’s difficult for him to utter the next part because he exhales before he informs me, “He wants you dead, Nate.”

My lungs feel like rocks and I really can’t breathe. I want to ask him to repeat what he’s told me, but the words are replaying over and over in my head like a broken fucking record.

He wants you dead.

It feels like his words are wrapped around my throat and I’m suffocating. There’s literal pain in my chest and I clutch it as if it’ll relieve some of the ache.

“Did he for sure say that he only wants to kill me?” The thought of Arielle being injured breaks my heart in two. My throat swells up and I fight the urge to break down before him.

He pauses, before uttering a, “Yes.”

But I can see it in his face. He’s not telling me the whole story. In the time I’ve spent closely alongside him while we sent Ezra off to prison, I quickly learned his tells and he’s not a very good liar. “Don’t lie to me,” I snap, perhaps a bit harshly. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me.”

“Nate —”

“Don’t. If he wants to hurt her, I need to know.”

He releases a shaky exhale, running his hands over his face. “He never specified, okay? My guy said that one of you will die. I’m assuming it’ll be you.”

“And how can you possibly know that, Hayes? The man is a fuckin’ psychopath. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.” I stand and begin pacing, feeling like my head is about to explode. “You know that he had that guy fuckin’ attack her in the bar. You know he sent her to prison. You know that he’s put her in dangerous situations. Why the fuck would you attempt to keep that from me?”

He shakes his head, giving me a sympathetic gaze. “I didn’t mean to upset you, but like, I knew you’d react like this. I knew that if you heard Ari’s name in the mix, it’d compromise your emotions and she needs you to be calm and collected if we’re gonna’ figure this shit out!”

He makes a point, but I’m so overwhelmed with emotion that I snap at him, “Fuck you! Fuck you for keeping shit from me. How do you think I can trust you if you’re omitting shit? Facts that I find important!”

“Listen—” he starts, standing up to face me. He forces me to stop my pacing, “You’re too much in your head right now. You can trust me, you already know that. You’re gonna’ have to trust me if you want to survive this.”

I submit to him. Finally, I realize that I’m not helping the situation by acting irrational. Is it hard to bottle it up? Absolutely. But I get where he’s coming from. It’s only going to make things worse if I start questioning the people that I should be able to put my full faith into.

I get that this won’t be the end of my flurry of emotions. In fact, it’s likely only going to get worse as time goes on and we learn new facts, but I at least need to make the effort. If I can get out of my own head—he’s right— it’ll mean I can be more focused on ensuring that Arielle is protected and that’s my main and only goal.

“I do trust you,” I assure him.

“I know you do. It’s okay, I get it.”

“What the fuck are we gonna’ do?”

“I have a plan, but I’d bet my life savings you won’t like it.”

“How can you possibly have a plan already?”

The way he says that I won’t like it makes this uncomfortable feeling reveal itself in the pit of my stomach. I don’t know what he’s referring to and I honestly don’t know if I want to fucking know. The little bit I’ve learned in the last few days has already been too much and I’m afraid if he continues to pile more information on, I’m going to end up having a complete nervous break down.

“From the moment that I first heard that he got out, I’ve been doing my best to figure out a more thorough and permanent solution to the problem. And when I say permanent, I don’t mean killing him. As much as all of us—you, me, Ari—want him gone, we’re not the same people he is. We don’t have that in us.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I ask, “Are you gonna’ tell me what this plan is?”

He shakes his head and my anxiety grows. “It’s better if you don’t know yet. I want to make sure that I have thought out everything before telling you all the details. I don’t want to fuck this up a second time. Once was enough.”

It’s really shitty to hear, but he’s right. It’s extremely hard for me to take a step back and not be completely involved in a plan that I know is set in place to protect Arielle. However, I think he’s right. If Ezra wants to meet with me again, it’s better that I don’t know every last detail. That way, if he happens to question me on anything, I won’t have the answers to give. I won’t just have to fake it, I literally will not have the answers.