Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

Elizabeth to join him. She shook her head. Good girl. King leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. Elizabeth put her tray down on the table and took a seat.
    They spoke for a few minutes until King turned and nodded toward Simon. Elizabeth followed his gaze and said something in response. King laughed, and they both turned away.
    What the bloody hell was she doing?

Chapter Fifteen
    S imon ground his teeth with growing aggravation. He wished he could see Elizabeth’s face, but all he could see was King’s smug expression. They were too far away for lip reading, but it was clear enough that the gangster was enjoying her company. A bit too much.
    Simon played a few more standards, trying not to race the tempo, but his heart wasn’t in the music. After a few more minutes, King pushed his chair back and stood. He gave Elizabeth a courtly bow and a not so courtly leer, before heading for the door. She took up her tray and walked to the bar. Simon finished the last bars of “S’Wonderful”, ignored the smattering of applause and walked over to her.
    She was waiting for an order to be filled when Simon gripped her by the arm and forced her to turn toward him. “What was that all about?”
    Her eyes were cold, and she wrested her arm from his grip. She turned away and grabbed her tray. “Thanks, Charlie,” she said, and moved back into the crowd without giving Simon another glance.
    He grunted in aggravation and ran a hand through his hair. What did she think she was playing at? They knew King was dangerous. Why didn’t she just go and play in traffic, for God’s sake?
    “You all right, Professor?” Charlie asked as he served up a particularly vile smelling concoction.
    Simon gave a terse laugh. “Fine.”
    “Sorry about King. Fancies himself a real cake eater.”
    “I’m sorry?”
    “Ya know, good with the ladies.”
    “Really?” Simon said, unimpressed. “And I suppose fraternizing with the clientele is part of Elizabeth’s job.”
    Charlie frowned. “It ain’t like that. When King wants to talk, ya talk.” He put down his dishrag and leaned against the bar. “I don’t know what you did, Professor. But if I were you, I’d fix it.”
    “I don’t know what you mean,” Simon said, bristling.
    Charlie shrugged. “I’m just sayin’ flowers might not be a bad idea.”
    “I don’t remember asking you for advice on our relationship. I’m fairly certain it’s none of your business.”
    Charlie’s kind eyes grew hard. “Anything affects the club is my business.”
    Simon cocked his head to the side in challenge. “If you have a point, I suggest you get to it.”
    Charlie sighed. “Look, I like ya. Well, I like Lizzy; you’re a pain in the ass. But Lizzy likes ya, so you can’t be all bad.”
    “Thank you,” Simon said dryly.
    “Alls I’m sayin’ is: men, we mess up. Don’t always know why, but I know one thing. You got a good thing in Lizzy. Do what you gotta do. Cause trust me, there’s always somethin’ or somebody there waitin’ to take it away from ya.”
    Simon nodded and turned to watch Elizabeth. If Charlie only knew how true that was.
    * * *
    Back at the apartment, Elizabeth kept her distance and her silence. They hadn’t said more than two words since their brief contact in the bar. Simon continued to sleep in the chair. Nightmares plagued him. Awake or asleep, it didn’t seem to matter. No matter how hard he tried, doubts crept in. He told himself time and again that he’d done the right thing. That he was sparing her, but the truth inched its way to the surface. He wasn’t protecting her at all. It wasn’t a matter of sparing her the infliction of his inevitable failure, it was something much simpler. Something far less noble. She was right. He was afraid. Petrified actually. The idea of loving someone, of being loved in return frightened him beyond words.
    His family had never been a source of comfort. The idea of the Crosses as a loving family was laughable. It seemed they shared one heart among them, and it had withered and died with his grandfather. The pain of that loss was so shocking, so final, so gruesome. Being a witness to death had taken the life out of Simon, as if a part of him died with his grandfather. The utter and complete desolation he felt was his alone to bear. The one person he’d loved, who’d loved him in return had died a horrible death. And even now, thirty years later, the scars were still fresh and the guilt still suffocating. The family,