Chicago (A Jay Halstead Story)

Chapter 30

I hailed a cab and jumped inside, giving the guy my address and telling him to hurry. When the cab driver pulled to a stop, I handed him some money and climbed out, looking at the place I had dreaded coming back to. The crime scene tape was still hanging on either side of the door from the day I was released from the hospital. Unlocking the door, I slung it open, taking in the eery silence.

I walked through that house as if it was new, taking in every picture and decoration like I was seeing it for the first time. By the time I made it upstairs and through the nursery I felt numb. I walked into the bedroom and saw Marco's aluminum baseball bat propped up beside the door. A big bad criminal, who had a gun, still kept a baseball bat in case of intruders. I shook my head and laughed. Nothing he did ever made any sense. So then why did I stay with him for so long? If I just mustered up some courage and left him, finding someway to make it without him, I might still have my baby. But now I have nothing. Bexley is dead. Marco is dead. I have no money, no home. As tears streamed down my face, I lost it. I picked up the baseball bat and started hitting everything in sight.

Picture frames flew off the dresser, shattering on the floor. Bottles of cologne and perfume breaking open, the scents mixing together and floating through the air. Shards of mirror flying off its frame. I left the room, stepping into the hallway. I knocked every hanging picture off the wall. I smashed vases, and the legs of the table that had no real use. I ran downstairs and destroyed anything I could reach. Vases shattering, water and flowers spilling across the floor. Picture frames falling. Lamps crashing. I stepped over the broken pieces and made my way back upstairs. The nursery was the last place left. I walked inside. I thought I heard noise coming from downstairs but I tuned it out. I picked the bat up over my head, eyes fixed on the crib in front of me.

I was frozen. I couldn't do it. I couldn't destroy this room. I screamed loudly and dropped the bat, falling to the floor. Arms wrapped around me, whispering comforting words in my ear. Jay. I leaned into him, sobbing uncontrollably. He rocked me back and forth, shushing me and trying to calm me down. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore. I've spent the last few weeks trying to turn my feelings off. Trying to pretend Marco and Bexley never existed in my life. But now it was coming at me, hard, forcing me to come to terms of everything that had happened this month. How drastically my life had changed in an instant.

Once I finally was unable to shed another tear, I stood up, Jay following. I walked back into the bedroom and grabbed anything of my own I had left behind, and didn't destroy. Silently, I packed it into a bag and walked downstairs. Jay took the bag from me without a word and slid it into his trunk. Looking back once more, I shut the door and swore I would never come back.

On the drive home, I texted Luca, asking him to sell the house and trash or give away anything left in it. Marco is gone and I don't want it anymore. He responded agreeing, promising to send me the money he made from it. I wasn't worried about Luca. They would never be able to prove he killed Marco. It was a secret we would take to the grave. My family wouldn't even find out, I would make sure of it.