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"Here you go." She points to the door. "Good luck."
Peeking my head in before entering, I see Bailey peacefully sleeping, just as she has been for the past four months. I quietly close the door, trying not to disturb her. But the squeaky chair I roll to her bedside does just the opposite.
"Hey, Rome." Bailey's raspy voice, calling me by the nickname she gave me the first day we met, brings instant tears to my eyes.
"Hi, Punky." I lean down, kissing her forehead. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's okay. I've had plenty of sleep in the last few months. Please, sit. We need to talk." Bailey's face is pale. Her body is weak and fragile. She barely looks like the same woman.
"First of all, thank you. Thank you for protecting me and keeping me safe when I couldn't do it myself. I know you put me in here under an alias to protect me from Marco."
"Federal agents questioned me. Is what they're telling me the truth? Do you work for a drug cartel?"
Her eyes fill with tears, and I know my answer. "I'm so sorry. There's just so much you don't understand."
"Then please, fill me in, because I have put my life on hold because of the guilt I feel over what happened to you."
"I know. I heard everything you said. I fought so hard in my head to tell you not to blame yourself. I don't even know where to start."
"How about from the beginning?"
She takes a deep breath before starting. "Juan Carlos Villanueva is the man who took care of me after my parents were killed. I was always told my parents died in an accident. It wasn't until I was older that I discovered my parents were coyotes for the Diablo Family Cartel and were murdered by Juan Carlos when they said they wanted out."
"Why have you never told me this?" I ask.
"Because I couldn't. From the age of eleven, I've been reminded how I'm lucky to have someone like him who was willing to take care of me. And if I didn't do what he said, he'd put me into one of the orphanages. I was terrified because of his horror stories about those places. I figured anything he made me do wasn't as bad as an orphanage. And at that time, I still thought he was the good guy."
"What did he make you do?"
"Nothing too bad. I carried suitcases and bags across town, ran errands, that kind of thing. I had no idea what I was doing at the time. This went on for a while. When I was fifteen, his son, Marco, came to live with us after getting in some trouble in Guatemala. Juan Carlos and Marco had never gotten along. I had never met him before that. Out of nowhere, Juan Carlos buys a laundromat and puts Marco and me in charge. And that's how I learned how to launder money through businesses." Bailey's body twitches as she reveals the uncomfortable stories of her past.
"So, was I a con to you? Was anything you told me real?" My voice cracks as I ask the question I’m scared to know the answer to.
"You weren't a con, I swear. But you were a means to an end. Over the years, Marco and I fell in love, and Carlos hated it. From the moment he found out, he made our lives a living hell, but he wouldn't let us leave the family, either. We knew too much. My art was good, and I knew tattooing was a cash-only business, so Marco and I set up a plan to stash everything I made away so we could get the fuck away from Juan Carlos."
"Okay, so where does the laundering come in?" I question, still confused.
"Things weren't happening fast enough. Juan Carlos was becoming more aggressive with us both. So, Marco began a side hustle behind his father’s back, and that's when I convinced you to let me do the books. It was all going smoothly until Marco made a deal with one of his father’s associates, and Juan Carlos figured it all out. He demanded everything we saved and forced us to start laundering money for him instead."
"Why not go to the cops?" I know how dumb the question sounds the minute it leaves my mouth.
"He would have killed us," she says bluntly. "Marco and I needed to escape."
"How could you be in love with someone who did what he did to you?" I ask, still not fully comprehending the situation.
"Rome, Marco never hit me. Every time he went to jail, it was because he was defending me. Juan Carlos would slut shame me, tell me I'm a worthless piece of shit, beat me… Marco would try to defend me, then get the shit kicked out of him. Juan Carlos forced me to call the cops and tell them Marco had attacked me. He would get arrested, and I would run to you because you are the only person I feel safe with besides Marco."
"Where did Juan Carlos think you were going?"
"He knew I was with you. He thought the more time I spent with you, the less suspicion there would be with the money. And eventually, I would leave Marco for you."
I pace the room, struggling with the story Bailey is telling me. "Why didn't you just tell me? I could have helped you both."
"That's why I didn't. You have always been so protective, and I never wanted to put you in danger. I honestly thought I could handle things on my own. The less you knew, the better."
"Do you remember the shooting?"
"I don't. But I could hear you when I was in my coma." Tears fill her big, hazel eyes. "Even with everything you did to protect me, the man who did this to me was still able to find me."
