Chereads / No Place To Hide / Chapter 8 - throw your bombs and your blows.

Chapter 8 - throw your bombs and your blows.

"Can we please get ice cream?" Emma asks, tugging at my dress. I look down and run my hand over the back of her head, trying to calm myself down all while comforting her.

"We sure can," I nod. "Just let me finish with the produce and then we'll head over to the frozen section, okay?"

"Okay," she grins.

I look over my shoulder to catch Jack on his phone. He was away from us, but his presence was all-consuming, and I was growing more and more uncomfortable. I still didn't know him; we hadn't even spoken to each other in the few weeks he'd been assigned to guard the house and essentially tail me whenever I left.

I didn't care much whenever it was Rafael or Jesse who accompanied the 3 of us wherever we went. I even made it a point to include them, buying them food, requesting them to join us, or letting the kids joke around with them because those 2 were sincerely kids at heart themselves. Jesse often came over unannounced with toys for Emma and Max, and I think that made them like him even more. Harvey was a little detached but never bothersome. He didn't have such an overwhelming and looming presence the way Jack did.

Josh kept insisting we'd get used to Jack, but I don't think I could.

When Jack looks up from his device, I immediately turn back to the vegetables in front of me. I start bagging zucchini, before moving on to grab some bell peppers. I was so grateful these kids were patient while I was doing the most mundane thing in the world; I wasn't sure how I could have handled this situation if Max and Emma started giving me a bad time on top of it.

As we move along the grocery store, Jack stays behind us, close, but always a ways away and, more importantly, out of the way. Which made it a little better but still nerve wracking regardless. I couldn't wait to get back in my car, but the grocery wouldn't do itself.

It was Max's birthday tonight; he was turning 3. We'd decided we would hold a small get-together with a few people. Rather, Josh had decided that. He'd invited Pérez and his family, as well as his aunt, Esmeralda, and her son Andre and his family. Judging by the fact that it was nearly noon, Josh was likely on his way to pick everyone up at the airport. Or having one of his associates do it. Speaking of whom, he'd invited Jack, Rafael, Jesse, and, since he was "much better", Harvey too.

I wasn't nearly as surprised to hear he was back on his feet a mere couple of weeks later as I had been finding out that after all this time of semi-knowing him, Harvey actually had a family. Which included 3 kids.

Other than Josh's guest-list, the only people I'd managed to invite were these 2 sets of parents from Max's group and their kids, who he seemed to get along with at the orientation for the preschool he'd be attending in September. I'd met them a handful of times and since their kids would be starting school with Max, I figured it might be nice to finally make some adult friends of my own who actually lived within a 45-minute drive.

45 minutes, but still…it was close enough. I'd take anything I could get at this point.

"C'mon, Em, let's go check out that ice cream, huh?" I push the cart toward the frozen section and let her take charge, watching as she opens a fridge door here and there, asking me to read what the flavors and names were. Emma settles on double chocolate fudge and then another tub of vanilla with chocolate shavings. "What about you, birthday boy?" I gently poke Max as he giggles, rubbing his eyes. "What kind of ice cream do you want?"

He looks to his left at the selections and points randomly, "That one!"

"Strawberry swirl?" I ask, taking it out. One look at the container and Max shakes his head. I place it back and then grab the one next to it. "Funfetti?" I show him and he eagerly nods. "Alright, then." I kiss the top of his head before adding the tub to the cart.

We make our way to the register to pay, and once we're headed out, I glance back to see Jack at a different counter purchasing something. I sigh in relief; this would make unloading the groceries into the car much easier. As I quickly do so, I catch him walking out, heading toward us, and then passing before he got into the sleek black Cadillac across from my Range Rover. I try not to let the intense staring bother me, but I knew his eyes were glued on us. I shut the trunk of the car and then scoop up Max, setting him into his booster seat before fastening Emma's seatbelt.

As I walk the cart back into a corral, I glance up at the Cadillac and sure enough, Jack's just sitting there looking at me. I turn away as I lock the cart into its place before speed-walking back to the vehicle.

"Everyone good?" I ask, looking in through the rearview mirror as Emma gives me a thumbs up.

Once home, I take the kids out of the car and walk them to the front door. I slide the key into the lock, but the door swings open before I can turn it. Milo and Lumen squeeze through the partition, clearly ecstatic. As the door further opens, I see Jesse standing there.

"Hey, Alisha!" He grins, the dimple on the side of his face making an appearance.

"Oh, hey," I let out, "sorry. I didn't know you guys were back."

"We're not," he shrugs. "JC's still out. It's just me and Raf here." Jesse then turns to the kids, "Hey, Emma! Hi, Max! How are you guys?"

"I'm good, thank you!" Emma shoots him a wide smile as he ruffles Max's hair.

"Happy birthday, kiddo. How old are we turning today?"

Max proudly holds up 3 of his fingers, shouting, "Threeeee!"

"That's a big age," Jesse remarks, holding up his hand at the toddler. "Can I get a high-five?"

"Can you take them in?" I ask, as Max's hand slaps against Jesse's. "I've gotta get the—"

"Excuse me," comes from behind me, and I swing around to see Jack standing there holding a few bags of grocery.

"Oh, uh," I stutter, trying to shuffle myself out of the way as the man walks past us into the house. Emma darts after him, heading toward the living room instead of the kitchen. Milo and Lumen are hot on her tail.

"It's fine," Jesse assures, looking at me. "Get inside, we'll grab everything."

"Uhm, okay, thanks," I manage to say as he slips past me and toward the car. "Can you please grab my bag as well?"

"Can do, ma'am," Jesse shoots over his shoulder, chuckling as he salutes.

"Don't have to call me ma'am," I mutter under my breath.

As I head into the house, I see Jack walk out of the kitchen; to avoid him, I swing into the living room to see Emma turn the TV on and sit down right in between Lumen and Milo. I'd asked her several times to sit on the sofas, but she insisted that since the dogs weren't allowed on the furniture that she would only sit where the dogs were allowed.

Shadow comes running up as soon as he sees me, nuzzling at my legs and looking up at me for a scratch. As I do just that, I set Max down on the floor near Emma, asking her to watch him before standing there, listening, watching as Jesse and Jack walked in with the grocery and then back out for more until the last bag was brought in. Jack says something to Jesse and then he leaves the house. The roar of his Cadillac tells me that he's backing out.

Thank God…

I finally stride over to the kitchen to see Rafael chopping away at the zucchinis. I make a face as he looks up, smiling.

"Heeeeey, look who it is!" He nudges Jesse, who breaks open the box of grapes and pops one into his mouth.

"Hi to you too, Raf, uhm…" I point at vegetables he's chopping, asking, "So, uh, what's going on?"

"I thought I'd help out," Rafael shrugs. "I'm the only one of the two of us who knows how to expertly use a knife."

Jesse starts laughing, "Yeah, in more ways than one!"

Raf shoots him a death glare, "You know what he said: shut the fuck up!"

"Please," I urge, putting my hands up. "There's going to be kids around here, there are already two in the living room. Please watch the language."

Both of them apologize as Rafael adds, "Anyway, I saw the recipes you set out, so I hope it's okay?" He stops chopping and looks at me, anticipating.

I sigh, shaking my head as I walk further into the kitchen and grab another cutting board and knife, assuring him, "It's fine. Thank you for the help."

Over the course of the next couple of hours, we're prepping and cooking, Jesse helping out wherever he could. When Harvey and his family arrive, his 2 girls and 1 boy join the kids in the living room while he enlists the help of Jesse to start setting up the barbecue, putting up decorations outside, as well as pulling out the patio table.

I'd asked if he was feeling alright and whether he'd like a drink; Harvey simply grunted in response. His wife, Jada, apologized for his behavior and informed that he was still on painkillers that were majorly affecting his mood. Then she politely requested whether I could fetch him some juice instead.

I was so fascinated meeting Harvey's wife. I got lost in our conversation to the point where Jesse had to come out and request that I check on the items I'd been preparing. I couldn't help it, though; it felt a lot less lonely to be in the presence of someone who may know and precisely understand what I went though, was going through with the person I thought was the love of my life.

But when I came back out with the champagne for Jada and orange juice for Harvey, I catch her nuzzling into the crook of his neck, purely smiling, in love, clearly very enamored by her husband. She had an arm over his, hand on his shoulder, whispering into his ear. Harvey's general demeanor was softer overall. When he kissed her, they looked lost in their own world, staring into the other's eyes, blissfully unaware of my presence.

I felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach, recalling how I'd had that at one point in my life.

Rather than disturb them, I left the drinks on the patio table and walked away. I had to step into the den and collect myself before returning to the kitchen and act like my heart wasn't breaking, as if the jealousy wasn't devouring me from the inside out, as if I weren't a mere mummified and robotic version of my past self.

I played the part well.

As more guests start to arrive, I begin wondering where Josh was. The Pérezes were due to touchdown at 12 PM, and his own family was supposed to be landing at 1. It was now 2:45, yet there were no signs of any of them. Even Jack had gone and come back from the city with the cake we'd ordered.

When my phone rings, I wipe my hands along my apron, hurrying over around the counter, praying it was him. As I pick it up, I realize that under the number, it says 'Rochester, New York'. I furrow my brows as I pick it up, wondering who was on the other end since everyone I knew from back home was already saved into my device.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Alisha? Is this Alisha?"

"Yes?"

"It's Joshua's auntie, Esmeralda? How are you, dear?"

"Uhm," I bite my lip, even more confused now as I answered, "I'm good. How are you? Did you get to Long Island alright?"

"Yes, yes, we did, thanks," she responds. "But uhm…we're still at the airport? I've been trying to reach Joshua for the better part of an hour."

"Oh no," I let out, immediately biting my lip again when I realize Rafael is now intently staring at me. "Uhm, I'm so sorry," I apologize, turning my back to him. "It's my fault," I lie. "He told me to remember to pick you up and it slipped my mind, I am so sorry. I got busy with the prep."

"Oh, alright," she says, her tone shifting now. She sounded like she should have known to expect this of me. "Well, when can you get here?"

"Uhm, sorry, you'll have to jog my memory," I reply, snatching the pen off the counter along with the notepad. "Which airport was it again?"

"Gabreski," she answers. "How long, Alisha?"

"Just, uh, give me a half hour," I assure her. "I'll be right there."

"Okay," she states. "We'll wait." Then she hangs up.

I turn around and Raf is still staring at me; Jesse's now next to him doing the same.

I glance from one to the other, asking, "Did Josh say where he is?"

Both of them look at me as if I was dumb. And I realize I am because of course I wasn't allowed to know that kind of information.

I sigh, "Okay, well, can either of you get ahold of him? His aunt wasn't picked up from the airport and she's evidently pissed."

Jesse shrugs looking at Raf before turning back to me, "It's no problem. I can go grab 'em."

"JC's last text said not to bother him," Rafael informs me as I swipe on my phone, about to do just that.

"Right," I nod, sighing again as I placed the device onto the counter. "Well, is he even planning to make it to Max's birthday at this point?"

Both men eye each other again.

At this, I throw my hands up, announcing, "I don't care. Whatever's going on, I don't care. Just text him that he absolutely needs to be here for five. Please. And Jesse, do you even know what his aunt Esmeralda looks like?"

Jesse nods, "Yeah, I've met 'em a couple times."

Another surprise.

"Okay, yeah," I nod in return. "Just get them here as fast as you can."

I watch as Jesse walks out of the kitchen and Rafael returns to skewering the meat onto the rods in front of him, now avoiding my gaze. I try to ignore it and go back to the macaroni I'd been preparing.

Of course I'd lie for Josh where his family was concerned. I knew what the consequences of not doing so would have been, so to save myself of the bullshit he'd unleash on me, I'd covered for him. His aunt knew next to nothing of his operations, and this wasn't the first time I had to take blame for something he'd done. It was no wonder she never seemed to fully like me: in her eyes, I was incredibly inept when it came to his family.

When she finally arrives, Esmeralda greets me with a simple courteous nod. Her son, Andre, does the same, while his wife, Alessandra, wraps her arms around me and gushes about how long it's been. They had 2 kids of their own, a boy about Emma's age, Alexander, and a 5-year-old girl, Adelina. The kids immediately join Max and Emma in the living room, playing with the others. I take Esmeralda's coat and hang it up, watching as she walks after her grandkids, immediately thawing when her eyes set upon her niece and nephew.

Walking back into the kitchen, Rafael's busied himself with texting. When he sees me, he tries to wipe the troubled look on his face, avoiding my gaze again.

"He's not gonna make it, is he?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"He got caught up with something—!"

"That's fine," I declare, holding my hands up again as something heavy begins to weigh on my chest. It felt like there were incisions happening within the confines of my ribcage. "It's whatever," I shrug, trying to internally ease myself more than to make Rafael feel at ease.

"Ali, he's really pissed he can't make it—!"

"It's fine," I insist, placing both hands onto the quartz countertop, settling my eyes into Rafael's. "Really."

Throughout drinks, assisting Harvey with the barbecue, passing out plates, asking if everyone found the food okay, I realize I've put on such an ironclad front that I delude myself into believing that it really was all fine.

After all, Max was only 3; it's not like he'd recall all the fuss we made around his birthday

At least, that's what I told myself.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The last of the guests cleared after the birthday cake.

As I'm throwing out the leftovers on the used paper plates, I feel the calmness I'd forced upon myself earlier begin to disintegrate, the rage stampeding in without a warning. I grab the slice of partially eaten dessert on the plate in front of me, crushing it between my fingers, letting the icing and cake squeeze out through the breaks as fresh tears begin to materialize.

I'd only just put Max down for his nap a mere 5 minutes ago and he kept asking for his older brother. It broke my heart that despite a house full of guests to keep him preoccupied, Max was still missing the most important person in his life. I couldn't blame him. Emma had felt the same way, but instead of bothering to ask, she'd grown quieter and eventually sat down to draw. She was still drawing in the living room with the dogs surrounding her.

"Yeah, yeah, just in here. Cuidado, Oscar!"

I heard voices emanating out from inside of the house as I wiped my hands clean of the crumbs and frosting on a balloon patterned napkin. I turn around, inching toward the glass door.

"Emma, let's go upstairs, okay? We can draw in your room."

My interest fully piqued now, I walk into the house, down the hall, catching Jesse leading Emma towards the staircase, hand-in-hand; his other hand was holding her notepad and art supplies. Jesse shoots me a nervous smile, disappearing with Emma up the stairs.

"That's two of our guys now, Pérez; what the fuck are we gonna do?"

"Cálmate. Rash actions lead to severe mistakes."

I continue following the voices into the main part of the house, seeing Harvey walk in the front door with an emergency aid kit under his arm. He gives me a quick glance, before entering the living room. I trail after.

Josh sat on the sofa with Pérez on one side and Jack at the other. Pérez's sons, Ivan and Oscar, both around my age, took the couch adjacent to them. Rafael was on the phone with someone, while Harvey was doing something to Josh's right side under Pérez's instructions.

Alfonso Pérez was Josh's longest acquaintance. 2- or 3-decades Josh's senior, Pérez had only just retired a couple years ago as Chief of Police in Rochester. He'd been Rochester's first Argentinian Chief of Police and was heavily involved in the city in every aspect, unlike all those before him. I distinctly remember what a fuss had been made when he'd announced his retirement. Josh had always said that while it was time, it would be one of Rochester's greatest losses.

I had no idea when they'd met or how long they'd known each other, but from what I could piece together, Josh had known Pérez far longer than he'd known me. Something told me he was the reason Josh joined the RPD, and considering how prominent his presence was in Josh's life, I also assumed Pérez knew the exact goings on of Josh's "business" and likely assisted him. Pérez was rarely ever in Long Island, which meant I rarely ever saw him, but I was still willing to swear on my life that this man was involved in nearly every aspect of the "business" venture as much as he'd been involved in the Rochester community.

Everyone hushes as they took note of me now entering the living room.

Josh's eyes lock with mine, but he breaks his gaze as he winces, head shooting to his side. That's when I noticed the red-stained towel Harvey held pressed up against Josh's shoulder. I lick my lips, slowly blinking as my heartbeat surged in both intensity and number of beats per second.

"Hello, Alisha," Pérez greets me, offering a warm smile. "I must apologize for missing the festivities."

My mood further sours, the anger inside of me spoiling into something much worse.

"Is this what you were busy with?" I ask, ignoring Pérez as I crossed my arms, gazing into my husband's eyes.

"Ali," Josh begins, "go upstairs."

"No, I mean," I shake my head, "'cause I'd imagined whatever you were busy with had to have been incredibly important since you missed your baby brother's birthday party."

"Ali, don't start with me—!"

"You don't start me," I snap back, surprised at myself. "He kept wondering where you were; there were well over twenty or thirty people here, yet it was you he kept asking for. I can't even begin to fathom why though since you're never around anyway." The tears reemerge as my body shook with the wrath stewing below the surface.

"Ali," he spits, jaw clenched, eyes blazing. "Get the fuck upstairs."

"Josh," Pérez sternly cuts in, turning to me afterward. "Alisha, you'll have to forgive him—"

I finally turn my attention to Pérez, "You realize that was why you were invited, right? To attend Max's birthday? Yet I'm assuming he picked you up at the airport and fucked off to wherever you wanted him to go or whatever the fuck it is you ordered him to do. That's why he's fucked up right now, isn't he?"

"Alisha," Pérez calmly says, "I didn't intend for us to get sidetracked. Please don't blame him, honey; this is on me."

"Of course it's on you—!"

"ALI!" Josh yells, getting up and pushing Harvey away. "GET YOUR ASS UPSTAIRS!"

"What the fuck was so important that you missed his birthday, Josh?" I take a step closer, somehow feeling incredibly full of adrenaline tonight because I was just goading him at this point. "You've got a bullet lodged in your shoulder, your knuckles are clearly swollen and cut, so again, I ask: what was so important that you got sidetracked?"

He advances towards me, a familiar pink tinge creeping up his neck as he traps my wrist within his fingers, his face mere inches from mine. He snarls, "GET UPSTAIRS! I'm not asking again."

"Or what?" I sneer, eyes burning into his darkening blues as his nails dig into my flesh. "You'll snap my neck? Beat me black and blue? When are you ever going to realize that it never works with me?"

"Okay, break it up," Pérez orders from behind him, also getting up and walking closer. "Alisha, please understand—"

"No, you understand," I hiss eyeing Pérez over Josh's shoulder. "Whatever the fuck you had him do could have waited well after—!"

The sound of skin striking skin is the next thing heard in the room. It echoes off the walls before fading into a deafening silence again.

But only for a moment.

Within seconds, the others are trying to pull him back and away from me as he kicks and swings to dive at me. I lick my lip, wiping at the corner to see blood on my hands when I pull it back. I look up from where I've landed on the floor, tasting the familiar rust in my mouth from the hit he'd delivered.

I smirk at him while Harvey shouts for him to calm down, Ivan grabs his shoulder, Jack grabs the other, and Pérez gets in between us, saying something to Josh about how he needed to control himself, his anger.

Hands come up under my shoulders and I catch a glimpse of Rafael aiding me back onto my feet. He insists on helping me out of the room and up the stairs, but I struggle to get out of his hold.

Once I've managed to, I turn back to Josh, "It doesn't matter whatever the fuck you do out there because in this house, under this roof, you're a spineless fucking bastard who can only use his fists and feet to bend the rest of us into submission. Particularly me. Wait, scratch that…" I wipe at my lip again, adding, "Only me."

He emits a cry so loud I was sure the kids heard it regardless of the soundproofing in the nursery. He lunges at me, breaking away from Harvey, Jack, and Ivan, his face twisted and mangled, eyes steeping with a rage I'd only encountered last year when he'd broken my jaw and caused internal bleeding so excessive, I'd spent a week in the hospital.

Like a lion incensed with hunger, he darts at me.

I brace myself.