Patchwork

Patchwork

    The scent of lavender was overpowering as Kieran walked into their bedroom. He ran a hand over the empty pillowcase still lying on the bed. The patchwork quilt that used to cover the bed was gone too. Lena’s grandmother started it and, after she died, Lena made it her project to finish it. Recently, he and Lena had started working on it together, each of them adding pieces that represented them both. They’d eventually sewn the patches together, representing them as a couple. Though Kieran never would have admitted it, he’d thought it was a cute idea.

    That blanket had more sentimental value to her than I did. Where did she go? Why? he thought. Kieran crawled onto the bed and buried himself in the pillowcase. Her lavender scent was already starting to fade. The tears came upon him like a storm. His fingers dug into the soft mattress, clutching at it as if it would give an explanation for why his fiancé left without a word.


    It was dark outside when Kieran raised his wet face from her pillowcase. The snow was falling in swirls, something he and Lena used to love. He wiped the tears from his face and turned onto his side. He stared out at the snow.

         “Hey Kieran, you alive in there?”  a voice called from his front door.

  He recognized his best friend’s voice but didn’t move to let him in.

         “Come on man, let me know you’re in there, OK?” his best friend said.

         “Leave me alone, Danny,”

  Kieran buried his face in her pillowcase again.

         “Look man, I just wanted to make sure you’re not doing anything stupid," 

         “Well I’m not, so you can go,”

         “Kieran,”

    Kieran knew Danny was being a good friend, but it didn't change the fact that he just needed to be alone.
   
  After another minute, Danny said,  "C'mon man, open the door,"

  Kieran ignored him.

      "All right, fine, I'm leaving then. I'm going to give you a call later to make sure everything's OK,"

  Then there was only silence in the hall outside Kieran's front door.
 

    Later that night Kieran rolled over in bed, fighting an ascent to consciousness. He reached across the bed, intending to snuggle with Lena. As he felt the cold settling in beside him, reality came crashing down. It was as if someone had reached into his body and squeezed his heart with their bare hands. Kieran rubbed his hands over his face and sat up. He slid off the bed and walked toward the kitchen, where he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with ice water. He shot a glance at the clock on the microwave. It read 3:18 a.m. in glowing green. A breath blew through his lips. He had to get ready for work in three hours. Kieran shook his head, knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now. Lena had only left two days ago, but somehow it seemed longer to him. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around why she would just throw away five years. Kieran had called her cell phone countless times. She’d never picked up. Kieran had left messages for Lena's parents, wondering if she'd gone there. They had yet to return his messages.

***

         Kieran dropped into his chair at work, powered up his laptop and clicked on the Internet browser. He clicked on his e-mail account, wondering if his supervisor had sent any important updates on their clients. And there it was: an e-mail from the fabric company he and Lena had been using to finish the quilt. Their fabric had come in. Kieran suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. He shut his laptop and walked toward the balcony, a popular break spot among employees. He shoved the door open and breathed in the cool Michigan air. Kieran stared out over the balcony. The sun was just beginning to rise over downtown, back lighting the cityscape. He sucked in another breath and looked down at the cars and buses traveling to their various destinations. He wondered if Lena was in one of them. She could still be in the city and he would never know: Ann Arbor was huge. Kieran's gaze returned to the sunrise and he realized his breathing had returned to normal. As he turned to go back inside, he nearly collided with Danny.

  Kieran didn’t say anything as he pushed past him.

         “Kieran,”

  He continued to ignore Danny all the way back to his desk. He reopened his laptop and clicked on ‘compose new message’. Kieran typed Lena’s e-mail address in the “To” field. He could feel Danny’s eyes burning a hole in his back as he did so.

         “Go away Danny,” Kieran said without turning around.

         “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

         “You going away? Yeah, pretty sure,”

         “You know that’s not what I’m talking about,”

         “Do you not understand the meaning of ‘go away’?”

  Danny threw up his hands.

         “I’m going, OK?”

  Kieran turned back to his laptop and finished writing his e-mail.

  Why? Are you OK? was all he wrote before pressing 'send'.

***

  Lena's mother, Joyce, called Kieran back during his lunch break.

          "Hey Kieran, I got your message. I spoke to Lena last week, but she hasn't come to see us in months... is everything OK with you two?"

          "I thought so... but I woke up two days ago and all her stuff was cleared out of the apartment. She isn't with any of her friends, hasn't been to work and I haven't been able to get a hold of her. I'm starting to get a little worried,"

          "What?! She isn't with us either and like I said, neither Rich or me have spoken to her. You think something happened to her? Have you called the police?" Joyce said.

          "I'm just hoping she's OK and that this is all going to be some sort of misunderstanding, but I'm going to the police if I haven't heard from her by tomorrow,"

  Kieran heard Joyce blow out a breath and knew she was just barely holding onto her fraying nerves.   

        "I'll call you then," Joyce said.

  Kieran ended the call and set his cell phone down on the break room table. He thought about how jumpy Lena had been the past couple of weeks, like the time she'd locked herself in their bathroom for hours with no explanation and the way she would stop talking if he was around during certain phone calls. He pushed the burrito bowl he'd brought for lunch away from him, finding that he was no longer hungry. He should have known something was wrong.

***

  The first thing Kieran did when he woke up the next morning was to check his phone for missed calls or new texts. The lock screen seemed to taunt him with its empty display. He decided that, since it was still early, he'd wait until the end of the work day to get the police involved.

  Five o' clock rolled around faster than Kieran would have liked. His cell phone had been silent all day but it hadn't stopped him from checking it every few minutes. As he got up to leave the office, panic began to knot his throat as the realization that something had probably happened to Lena sank in. The adrenaline racing through Kieran's body kept his hand from shaking as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the Ann Arbor police station's number. An operator picked up on the fourth ring.

    "Ann Arbor police station, this is Christina, how can I help you?" the operator said.

    "I think something happened to my fiancé'. All her stuff is gone from our apartment and I haven't been able to get a hold of her for three days now. She's not with her parents or her friends and she hasn't been to work," Kieran said. His voice was reaching frantic levels.

    "Have you ever filled out a police report before?"

    "No," Kieran said.

    "OK, well there's a couple things you can do right now. One of these is to come to the station and file a missing person report. We also recommend checking hospitals, homeless shelters, and, although it might be hard, the county coroner and morgue websites,"

  His brain didn't want to process that last possibility. 

***

    December faded into January without much notice from Kieran. He had done what the operator had suggested, though those searches had turned up nothing. The police hadn't found anything either, however, so Kieran wasn't sure what to think.
He had also stopped expecting to get a response from the e-mail he'd sent Lena. He realized he had to stop waiting for her to come back. Now he just went through the daily drill: work, home, friends. Kieran found comfort in the familiar routine. He sat down at his computer desk to check his e-mail and saw that the first message was from her. At least, it was from her e-mail address. Kieran clicked on the message. The e-mail read: 

‘I'm in Panama. Working for us. Don't worry.' –Lena’

    A mixture of relief, confusion, anger and sadness ricocheted in Kieran’s brain. That still doesn’t answer any questions. Why was it necessary for you to leave? Why Panama? he thought.  Kieran just stared at the message for a few minutes, uncomprehending. He finally pushed the laptop away from him and walked into the kitchen. He went straight for the liquor cabinet.
 
    Kieran was halfway through his second drink when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID before answering. It was Danny.

         “A bunch of us are going to see The Room , you’re coming with,”

         “No, I’m not,”

         “Kieran, c’mon, you can't stay in that apartment forever,”

         “Eight words. After five years. That's all I got,"

         “Uh, Kieran, what are you talking about?”

         “Remember that e-mail I sent? She replied to it today,”

  There was a pause before Danny responded.

         “Well, what did it say?”

         “She's in Panama. 'Working' on something. For 'us',”

        "Did she mention anything about coming back?" 

        "No," 

  There was silence on the other end of the line for a long time.
       
      "Well, I'm going to get another drink. Later,"

  Kieran hung up before Danny could get another word out. He had barely put his phone down when it started ringing again. He looked at the caller ID, suspecting he knew who it was. He read the name and put the phone back down, deciding to ignore it. Danny worried too much. Kieran poured more bourbon into his glass, sat back on the couch and drank until his thoughts stopped.


  Later that night, he was startled awake by a pounding on the door. He heard something shatter beneath him and realized he must have still been clutching his bourbon glass. Kieran groaned and sat up. The pounding continued. He glanced into the kitchen to get the time off the microwave: 2:13 a.m. He groaned again.

      "Seriously, Danny? This is a little ridiculous, even for you,"

  Kieran shuffled toward the door and heaved it open.
       
        "There, you hap---" he started to say. He was interrupted by a baseball bat meeting his stomach and knocking the wind out of him. Kieran's head slammed against the open door. Unconsciousness came quickly.

***

   
  Kieran's eyes opened to a fuzzy vision of a man tearing his apartment apart. He saw sunshine glinting off the floor tiles in the kitchen and wondered how long he'd been out. Kieran's eyes slowly rotated back over to the man. He was built like a tower in both body and height and had blond hair that was spilling over the straps of a black mask that tied in the back. Kieran tried to get up, but his body screamed in agony at the smallest movement forward. There was a pounding in his head that had nothing to do with a hangover. It only got worse with the man screaming "Where is it?!" every few minutes. A groan escaped from Kieran's mouth and was followed by a wracking cough. When he looked at the floor, there was fresh blood on it. His head lolled back to its place on the hardwood floor. Kieran knew coughing up blood wasn't a good sign. Unfortunately, the sound also got the man's attention.

    "Did I say you could wake up?" the man said.

  Kieran didn't know if it was because he was delirious with pain, but he swore that the man was wearing the same mask that The Man in Black wore in The Princess Bride. Kieran coughed again.

    "What, did you steal that mask from The Princess Bride's prop store?" Kieran said slowly.

The man, who Kieran decided he was going to call Pain, kicked him in the side. Kieran screamed and his body curled into the fetal position. He took very shallow breaths, as if that would control the pain somehow.

    "Now, where is it?" Pain said.

    "Where... is... what?" Kieran said.

    "My money. My stash. Whichever one she told you about," Pain said.

    "What are you talking about?" Kieran said. He sucked in a breath. Even that hurt.

    "My coke man! My money! Lena was one of my dealers!"

    "No," Kieran closed his eyes. Speaking hurt.
   
    "Yeah. Gave her enough to supply the Colombian army last time we met. Told her to move it and she didn't,"

    "Not her,"

    Kieran struggled to keep his eyes open. He didn't know how much longer he could do this. As if to answer him, his eyelids drooped closed a second later.

    "Pay attention!"

  Pain kicked Kieran in the head this time. His eyes shot open and then squeezed shut. His mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out.
 
    "I don't see how Lena could love such a little bitch. You're useless. She even said I was better in bed," 

  Those were the last words he heard before sinking back into the blackness. Pain had taken Kieran's head and slammed it against the floor. It was the same spot that had hit the door the night before.

    "Sweet dreams,"

    A sadistic smile crossed Pain's face as he grabbed Kieran's house keys and locked the door behind him.


    Danny kept glancing over his shoulder at Kieran's empty desk. It was 10:00 a.m. Kieran should have been at work an hour ago. Danny knew he was depressed about Lena, but it wasn't like Kieran to be late. He would have called their supervisor and told her he wasn't coming in. Danny got out his cell phone and dialed Kieran's number. He got Kieran's voice mail after four rings. He dialed the number again and got voice mail again. Danny glanced nervously at the empty desk once more before diving into the work he had to do.

    Kieran still hadn't shown up two hours later. Danny was convinced something was wrong now. He told his supervisor he was taking his lunch break and headed toward the parking garage. Danny got into his car and sped out of the garage. When he got to the apartment building, he ran up the stairs to the third floor, where Kieran's apartment was. Danny pounded on Kieran's door. Seconds turned into minutes. No one came to the door. Danny pounded on the door again.

      "Come on Kieran! If you're in there, open the door!"

    Still no answer. Danny turned and ran for the superintendent's office back on the first floor. Danny explained the situation to the super and she followed Danny back up to Kieran's apartment. They got to the front door and the super turned the key in the lock. The door swung open and the two of them were instantly hit with the smell of blood. Kieran lay prone on the floor. The blood pooled behind his head looked like a regular wood stain on the floor.

    "Oh, shit..." was all Danny could get out.

    "I'll call 911," the super said. She dug her cell phone from her pocket and started dialing.

    Danny sank to the floor. It felt like his legs were unable to support him any longer. Time became a blur of ambulance sirens, police statements and shock.

    A paramedic's voice brought Danny back to Earth: "Sir? Do you want to ride with him?"

    "Sure," Danny said, dazed.

  Danny walked toward the elevator with the paramedics, only half aware of what he was doing.

***

  Danny was worried. Kieran had been taken to the ICU, where he had been unconscious for three weeks now. Danny had been coming to check on him during visiting hours every day and every day there seemed to be no change. He would try to distract himself by reading the day’s newspaper. It never worked.

  It was just before visiting hours ended one night, however, that Danny saw Kieran’s eyelids flicker. His hand shot to the call button as he saw Kieran’s eyes open. The respiratory therapist de-intubated him and left to go find the doctor in charge.

    One question had been circling Danny’s brain like a catchy pop song: "What the hell happened?"

    “I was hoping you knew,” Kieran’s voice was hoarse. It seemed like he struggled just to get those words out.

  Danny swallowed the fear that had crept into his upper body.

    “You don’t remember?”

  Kieran shook his head and winced at the motion. He laid back on the hospital pillow and his eyes closed again.


  The ICU doctor came in a few minutes later. After seeing that Kieran’s vital signs looked good, the doctor woke him up to see how his memory had fared.

    “Do you know where you are?” the doctor said.

    “A hospital, apparently,” Kieran said.
   
    “Good. What’s your full name?”

  Kieran looked confused as to why the doctor was asking this, since he was sure the doctor knew his name, but he answered anyway.

    “Kieran Callahan,”

    “Where do you live?”

    “An apartment on the third floor of the Glencoe Hills complex,”

    “How old are you?”

    “27,”

    “What’s the last thing you remember before waking up here?”

  It took Kieran a minute to answer.

  “I remember drinking. Talking to Danny, but I forget about what. After that, I just remember waking up here,”

  The doctor noted that on Kieran’s chart.

  “The good news is that your long-term memory seems to be unaffected by your injuries. Your short-term memory,  however, especially concerning memories of that night, might never come back. If they do, it’s likely to take several
weeks to months. We’d like to keep you under observation here to continue to monitor that,”

  Kieran nodded his understanding.

    “We should have you moved to the medical floor by tomorrow,” the doctor said. He left the room after that, leaving Kieran lost as to how he’d ended up in this wing in the first place. His only clue to how bad it had been was the mixture of relief and anxiety now written all over Danny’s face.

***

 
  A month and a half passed before the doctors told Kieran he had healed to the point where he was almost ready for discharge. It was also around this time that his memory of that night came back. Once it did, it was like an avalanche that he needed help getting out of. The minute Danny walked in for visiting hours, Kieran took his opportunity.

  “I’m pretty sure I remember what happened,”

The shock registered on Danny’s face, and he said, “I’m all ears,”

At this, Kieran looked down at his lap.

    He drew in a breath before he said, "I opened the door late that night and the next thing I remember, he was tearing up my apartment and insisting that Lena was one of his dealers. One of his drug dealers. He came looking for his 'stash' or his 'money'. He didn't like the fact that I had no idea what he was talking about,"

    "Wait, as in your fiancé Lena? A drug dealer? Was this guy on something?"

    "He also said that she... well, that she slept with him,"
 
    "Come on, man, you don't believe that. Lena loved you,"

    "Did she?" Kieran's eyes returned to his lap.

  Danny just sat there, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water gasping for air. He didn't think there was anything he could say back to that.


  Kieran was discharged two weeks later. Danny helped him get settled back into his apartment.  He watched as Kieran paused at the front door, running a hand over the marks the crime scene tape had left behind. Kieran's other hand dropped into his pocket and pulled out the copy of the key the superintendent had given him. He turned the key in the lock and the door swung open. The spotlessness of the apartment unnerved him.

Kieran threw the key on the computer desk, walked into his bedroom and laid down on his bed. He stretched his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling until he felt something poking at him. A business card was sticking up from the pocket of his jeans. He reached down and took the business card out of his pocket. "Detective Kenneth Davis, Ann Arbor Police Department, Narcotics", it read. The detective and his partner had come by to take Kieran's statement. Detective Davis told Kieran that an investigation would be launched into both the beating and the accusations Kieran's attacker had made against Lena. Kieran twirled the card in his hand, thinking about how the detective told him to call if he had any new information.

      "You're having a little too much fun with that card," Danny said, interrupting Kieran's thoughts.

  Kieran looked Danny's way but said nothing.

    "Everything looks OK, but the police were right, I couldn't find your keys anywhere, sorry," 

    "Gotcha. Thanks," Kieran's eyes were fixed on the ceiling again.

    "I'm gonna stop by tomorrow before work and make sure everything's cool,"

    "OK," Kieran's eyes were still on the ceiling.

    "You sure you're gonna be OK, man?"

    "Yeah, I'll be fine,"

  Kieran's gaze returned to the detective's business card, which he put on the nightstand next to his bed.

  Danny didn't believe him but he still turned to leave, making sure he locked the door behind him.

***

  Months passed without an update on either case. Kieran had recovered enough to get back into his daily routine, though he'd had to get copies of all his keys made. His days consisted of work while his nights usually ended with him, a glass of bourbon and reruns of Law and Order or The Closer .

One unseasonably warm evening, as Kieran was fishing his keys out of his pocket, he spotted a short, curvy woman with jawline-level black hair lurking by his apartment door. Dread ran its icy fingers along the back of his neck and down his spine.

    "Can I help you?" Kieran said.

The woman turned around and Kieran's keys hit the floor.

  "Lena?"

  "Hi, Kieran,"

  "You're OK,"

She nodded.

  "You cut your hair,"

She nodded again.

  "What are you doing here?" Anger had seeped into Kieran's voice.

Before Lena had a chance to answer, he continued, "I thought you were 'working' for 'us' ".

  "I- look, can we go inside and talk about this?"

  "What, did you think you'd just show up here after dropping off the planet for months and have everything be OK again? You left me. You left the country and the only reason I have for it is from some crazy fucker who thinks you're a drug dealer. He believed it so much, in fact, that he tore up my apartment and sent me to the hospital. So, no, 'we' can't go inside,"

Lena just stood there for a minute, dumbfounded. Kieran picked his keys up off the floor and found his front door key. He moved toward the door and unlocked it.

  "You were in the hospital?"

Kieran's hand paused on the doorknob.

  He snorted and, without turning around, said, "You're a couple months late on that one,"

He turned the doorknob to go inside when he felt Lena's hand on his shoulder. He shook it off.

  "At least let me explain," 

Kieran turned back around and opened his mouth to say no, but thought better of it.

  "Fine. You have five minutes,"

Kieran stepped aside to allow her into the apartment and gestured for her to sit on the couch while he took the computer desk chair. The two of them just sat in silence for a minute, with Kieran looking at the floor, at Lena, then back at the floor.

  "Why did you leave?" Kieran's voice was barely above a whisper.

His question was met with more silence. Lena wouldn't meet his eyes.

  "You know, if you're not going to say anything you should just go," Kieran said.

  "I'm sorry... it's just -  it's not an easy explanation," Lena said.

Kieran crossed his arms over his chest.

  "You're the one that wanted the chance. Try,"

Lena took a deep breath and said, "Well, that 'crazy fucker' you were talking about earlier? Troy? The one who said I was one of his dealers?"

Kieran nodded his response.

  "He wasn't wrong. I was. But that was only part of it. A lot of it was me being a mess after my grandma. I had gotten myself into some pretty bad stuff and---" Lena said. She stopped herself as soon as she saw the pain and rage building behind Kieran's eyes.

  "So I take it that's what happened to the ring?" his voice was still quiet. He'd noticed her bare ring finger when she'd first sat down.

Lena couldn't bring herself to answer.

  "I'm guessing the same thing happened with the quilt?"

  "Of course not! It's sitting on my bed at home,"

Kieran had to stop himself from physically recoiling at the words "at home". He took a big breath in.

  "I thought you wanted to finish it together,"

  "It was always more of a family thing, it being the only thing I have left of my grandma and all. And since I didn't think I'd be coming back..." 

  "So why did you then? Wanted to screw with me some more?"

  "You know that's not true,"

  "Do I? Apparently all our relationship was worth to you was eight words in an e-mail, so I guess I don't know much of anything any more,"

  "Kieran... Listen, I've been trying to explain, if you'd just let me,"

He looked away from her. There was really only one thing Kieran wanted to know right now. He looked back at Lena, focusing his green eyes on her hazel ones.

  "'Troy' also said you slept with him. Did you?"

  "Yes, but---"

  "Get out," Kieran's voice was quavering now.

  "Kieran---"

  "Get. Out.,"

  "There's more to the story,"

  "Yeah I'm sure there are great reasons you're on a first name basis with a drug dealer, had sex with 'Troy' and sold your engagement ring. I guess you didn't hear me the first two times. Get. Out,"

Lena opened her mouth to say something more, thought better of it and hurried past him, slamming the door behind her.

Kieran's breath was coming fast and short. He gulped down air like it was the first fresh water after a drought. He stalked into his room, flipped the light switch on and paced. The hits just keep on coming, don't they? he thought. That was when Kieran's eyes fell to his nightstand, where Detective Davis' business card sat. He picked the card up and threw it across the room. Kieran sank down against the bedroom wall, rubbing his hands over his face and through his light brown hair. He wished Lena would have stayed gone.

***

Kieran woke up lying against his bedroom wall the next morning. As he stood up, his body protested being in the same position all night. He stretched out his neck and back in an attempt to make himself feel less sore. The detective's business card was still sitting where Kieran had thrown it the night before. Kieran walked over and picked it up, grabbed his cell phone and shuffled to the kitchen in a quest for coffee. He put his phone and the card on the kitchen table and went over to the coffee maker. Kieran scooped some coffee grounds, put them in the coffee filter, added water and set the coffee maker to brew.

While he waited for the coffee maker to finish, Kieran grabbed his cell phone from the kitchen table and started to dial Detective Davis' office number. However, as he reached the last four digits, his fingers hovered over the numbers. Kieran decided that he should have some coffee before talking to the detective. He knew his brain needed the jolt. Kieran cleared the screen and threw the phone back on the table.

As he drank his coffee, he kept glancing across the table at his phone. It glinted back at him, as if to fix him with an accusing stare. Kieran drained the last few sips of his coffee and put the mug in the sink. He picked up his phone and began dialing the number, his fingers hesitating again as they came to the last four digits. Kieran told himself to just finish dialing. It wasn't like Lena cared what he did any more, why should he? Kieran's index finger hovered over the "call" button for another second before pressing it.

  The line rang twice before a man said, "Detective Davis speaking,"

  "Detective? My name is Kieran Callahan. You told me to call if I had more information on either Lena Jameson or the break in at my apartment?"

There was a pause and the sounds of computer keys clacking in the background as Detective Davis pulled up Kieran's police report.

  "Right, how can I help you, Kieran?" Davis said.

  "Lena apparently isn't missing... she showed up at my door last night and told me she'd been in Panama 'working' for 'us'. She also told me that everything the attacker said about her was true. She had been dealing," Kieran said.

  "Does she have a history with drugs?"

  "No. That's what threw me off... I mean, she started acting a little weird after her grandmother died, but I knew how close they were. I didn't think anything of it,"

  "How about anyone in her family?"

  "No, I know her family, definitely not,"

  "Did she tell you the guy's name?"

  "Only the first name - Troy,"

  "Do you think you could come down to the station and sit with a sketch artist?"

  "Sure,"

  "OK. We'll call you if we need more information,"

Kieran hung up after agreeing to meet with the department sketch artist the following week. A sense of guilt gripped him as he put his phone down on the table.

***

Kieran closed the door to the sketch artist's office and started walking toward the exit, losing himself in his thoughts in the process. He was almost out of the building when he smacked into someone coming in. Kieran looked down at the person to apologize and realized he was staring at his ex-fiancé.

  "You and 'Troy' must have been pretty close for them to call you here already," Kieran said.

  "I can't believe you told them! I was really trying to explain everything when I told you all of that... Troy's going to be all over my ass again if he finds out I was here, " Lena said.

  "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Anger burned behind Kieran's eyes.

  "Goddammit Kieran! How many times do I have to apologize?"

  "See that's the thing. You didn't," 

Officers and office staff alike had started looking over at the two of them, so Lena gestured toward the door in front of them, walked over to it and out of the building.

Kieran thought about just leaving her out there and letting the cops deal with her, but he didn't want to spend any more time in the station than he had to. He opened the door and found her pacing back and forth on the top of the steps.

  "You keep telling me you want to explain. So explain," Kieran said.

Lena took a deep breath and gestured for him to sit down on the steps. The two of them sat on the far side of the steps, hoping it would give them a little bit of privacy.

  "It started when my grandma died. I wasn't dealing with it very well and didn't know how to talk to anyone about it. I wanted to talk to you, but I don't know... I felt like you wouldn't understand. I just wanted everything to go away - to not have to feel anything. That's when I met Troy," Lena could only bring herself to look at Kieran once the whole time.

  "Go on," Kieran was careful to keep any emotion out of his voice.

  "It wasn't like the movies... he didn't just appear from some shadowy alley. He seemed like a normal guy who saw that I was having a hard time. Sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger, you know?"

Kieran bit back the bitter words forming on his lips and nodded his understanding.

  "Anyway, after he heard my story, he lit a joint. I couldn’t believe he was doing it so openly and that was when he offered me a hit. You know I've never understood the point of drugs, but in that moment, it was like he'd offered me exactly what I wanted. After a few puffs, I felt happier and more relaxed than I'd felt in ages," Lena said. She drew in another breath. 

  "After that, we started hanging out more and each time it would be the same: we'd talk and then smoke. It wasn't until a month or so after that that I realized I would look forward to it to get through the day. We'd usually go to a nearby bar for drinks and cheese fries and just chill after. It was good for nothing else but an escape... until one night. We both got really drunk and--"

  "I think I can figure out what happened next, you don't have to go into the gory details," Kieran wasn't looking at Lena, but at a piece of neon green gum someone had stuck to the step below him.

  "I didn't find out he was a dealer until I woke up in his apartment in the middle of the night and even then, I was too drunk to care. I only found out because one of his customers came over looking for some coke," Lena said.

She started picking at the lint on the black v-neck she was wearing, something she did when she was nervous. She knew what she was going to say next would hurt Kieran even more.

  "Did my name ever even come up?" he said.

Kieran felt the anxiety rising in his throat, making him feel like he couldn't breathe. He already knew the answer.

  "Kieran..."

  "Don't. Just finish your damn explanation," He could feel his chin starting to quiver and willed it to stop.

Lena met Kieran's eyes and her gaze lingered a little too long for his liking.

  "Troy did a line with the guy and then got back into bed with me. I won't get into details, but I was open to just about anything at that point. The coke did make some of the other stuff better so I didn't object when he asked me to do a line with him. It was only after that that it started getting really bad," Now Lena was the one looking at the ground.

  "How bad?" Kieran wasn't sure he wanted to know.       

  "Bad enough that I was willing to do almost anything to get more. Bad enough that I got caught by a cop who, when he found out I knew Troy, was willing to make the drug stuff go away. Somehow Troy found out about it though and he told me if I told the cops anything, he'd kill me and then come for my family here. I was scared... I felt like I had to get out. My dad's family is in Panama, so...," Lena said.

  "So, what? How was any of that 'working' for 'us'? How could you leave me with your mess? Once upon a time, I was your family too," Kieran said.

  "That's why I came back. I realized I had to fix it, and well, I was worried about you. I do still love you, you know,"

  "Yeah, you love me so much you let me get beat up for you," Sarcasm coated each of Kieran's words.

  "I'm sorry about that... I had no idea he'd go that far. And I'm sorry I wasn't here," Lena put her hand on his knee.

Kieran jerked his leg away.

  "Did you think that you'd just apologize and turn yourself in and everything would just magically fix itself? Look, if that's all, I'm done here,"

Lena could only watch as he walked away. She knew there was nothing she could have said to make him stay. She hung her head for just a second, got up, and mentally prepared herself to tell the police what she had just told Kieran.


Once he was back in the safety of his car, Kieran slumped over the steering wheel and let go of all the careful control he had amassed during his conversation with Lena. The sobs shook his body and it was a long time before they stopped. Kieran stared at the keys in his lap for a second before grabbing them and starting the car. Instead of going back to his apartment, he found himself driving toward downtown, toward the bars and clubs, toward not having to think any longer.

Danny joined Kieran at one of the Irish pubs after he got off work. He found Kieran sitting at the back of the bar with part of his face buried in a pint of Guinness. Danny ordered one for himself and sat down on the stool next to Kieran.

  "So what's goin' on, man?" Danny said. Kieran looked like hell: He was hunched over his glass, his face was blotchy and his eyes still had a stain of red in them. 

  "Everything Troy said about Lena was true,"

Danny had to strain to hear Kieran above the Top 40 mix blasting from the bar speakers.       
 
  "Troy? You mean the guy who broke into your apartment? You believe him now?" 

  "I do when Lena tells me the same thing,"

  "You saw her again?"

  "Not on purpose. I ran into her at the police station. We fought. She explained. Apparently some crackhead is more trustworthy than me. Get this, he 'helped' her deal with her grandma stuff by getting her high. Oh, and somewhere along the way, she apparently fell for him and they fucked," Kieran's eyes were fixed on the seemingly bottomless black of his beer.

"Shit, man. Is she OK?"

"Oh, she's fine. She just forgot to mention to the rest of the class that Troy also threatened to kill her and her family if she told the police anything so... there's that. She only came back to fix it. Not because she loves me or anything, even though she claims she still does,"

Danny's eyes widened and he said, "Jesus. I think you need something stronger than that,"  He signaled the bartender and ordered two shots of Jäegermeister.

  "It just feels like our whole relationship was a lie," Kieran said. His eyes hadn't moved from his beer.

The bartender placed the shots in front of Danny. Danny clapped Kieran on the back and handed one of the shots to him. They both downed the shots in a single gulp.

***

It was late when a cab dropped Kieran off in front of his apartment building. He shuffled to the elevator and pushed the button for "up". Once it came, he stepped in, leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. The drinking hadn't helped erase Lena or that afternoon from his mind, but it did have the Novocaine-like effect of making him numb to everything going on around him. The elevator doors opened to show a mercifully empty hallway. Kieran unlocked his apartment and went in, tossing his keys on his computer desk. He plopped down in front of the TV and turned it on. A repeat of that night's CNN News was on.

  "...Tonight, Ann Arbor police are asking for you to be on the lookout for alleged drug kingpin Troy Lewis. Lewis is wanted for questioning concerning his involvement in a break-in at the Glencoe Hills Apartment complex..." the anchor said.

Kieran fumbled with the remote before hitting the power button and turning the TV off. The remote missed the table and clattered to the floor, the noise resounding throughout the apartment. Kieran ignored it and slung an arm over his eyes in an attempt at sleep. Even now she's inescapable. he thought. Somewhere in the back of his alcohol-fogged mind he knew that all he could do now was sew his tattered life back together, like he and Lena had sewed their patchwork quilt.