Inhale, Exhale (19 page)

It didn’t have any markings or lettering anywhere on it. I shook it a little, but it didn’t rattle in any way. It was solid and heavy. After staring at it for a few minutes, I set it down and turned back to the computer, getting back to the sixty-five notifications I had.

But my eyes kept drifting to the box as I recalled the conversation Christian had earlier and Grant’s accusations. I fought away the doubts, but kept hearing Grant’s voice.

“You know what? I’m going to prove Grant wrong.” I spoke out loud, to no one in particular. “Christian is not who Grant thinks he is, and this will prove it.”

I opened the desk drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors, slicing along the duct taped seam. With the top open, I pulled at the sides until I could see the contents inside. There, wrapped in layers of plastic and inside several gallon-sized storage baggies, sat what looked to be hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars’ worth of marijuana and a white, powdery substance I assumed was cocaine.

Holy. Shit.

Still trying to give Christian the benefit of the doubt, I pulled one out and opened the seam of the baggie, inhaling deeply and hoping I was wrong.

I wasn’t.

I dropped the package to the floor as I let out a small shriek. This wasn’t recreational or a joint or two. This was intent to distribute. This was years in jail—years! My hands shook and my stomach clenched.

Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit. What did I do now? This was bad. Very, very bad. Ruin your life forever bad. My heart began to race, and a trickle of sweat formed on my temple. What had Christian gotten himself into? Oh God, I couldn’t believe he lied to me about something so serious all this time. He’d promised me he didn’t even smoke anymore. And now he was dealing? Just how long had he been lying to me? He wasn’t the person I thought he was at all.

And Grant had been right the whole time.

But none of that mattered now, because I had a copious amount of illegal drugs now pooled in my lap and at my feet. Should I call someone? But who? My dad? The cops? I bit the side of my thumb and paced a little while I tried to come up with what I was supposed to do now. I was heading into a full-blown panic attack and needed to calm down so I could figure my next step out.

It was then that a horrible thought struck. If anyone came in, they would assume this was mine. And it would be
me
who suffered the consequences.

That made up my mind for me. I replaced everything into the box and rushed it into the bathroom. One by one, I opened the gallon sized storage baggies and flushed the contents down the toilet.

I had two baggies left when I heard the bell, indicating someone had entered the store.

“Shit!” I didn’t know who it was and prayed to God it was only Christian.

“Babe? Where are you? You’re gonna want to eat this while it’s fresh.”

I sighed, closing my eyes in relief that it wasn’t the owner, Jerry, or the cops or anything. The last baggie was in my hands as I took several slow, deep breaths. And just sat there, with the last of the evidence in my hands. I needed to confront him about this, see what he had to say for himself. And I needed to let him know that we were through. I forgave him once for this, but I couldn’t do it a second time. And I wouldn’t trust him again. Ever.

The bathroom door swung open. “Hey, what are you doing in here? I was…” His words trailed off as he took in the scene before him. “Oh, fuck.”

I scoffed. “Well, I guess you could say that. There was a delivery while you were gone, dear. A skeevy guy brought a box, said you were expecting it. I’m assuming this is what you and Andrew were really arguing about earlier. Not cutting work hours or not selling enough surf boards.”

I assumed Christian would be ashamed, or remorseful. I did not expect anger. Christian ripped the remaining baggie out of my hands and shoved it in my face.

“What the fuck, Jillian? What did you do? Where’s the rest?”

I looked up, indignant. “Are you kidding me? YOU are mad at ME? I’m not the one who’s been lying to his girlfriend’s face all this time. And I’m not the one currently engaging in illegal activities that could land me in jail for several years.” I glared at him, furious. “Are you really going to stand there and tell me I’m the one in the wrong here? Is that some kind of joke?”

He leaned into me, inches from me, and pushed me back into the wall. The paper towel rack dug painfully into my back, but I couldn’t move. He’d pinned me. My whole body began to shake in fear. I’d never seen him like this before. “Answer the question, Jillian. Where’s the rest of it? Tell me you didn’t flush it. Please, tell me you weren’t that stupid.” He practically spat the word.

I stood up, placing my hands on my hips. I wasn’t going to let him make me feel bad about this. “Of course I flushed it. What the hell was I supposed to do with it?”

Christian’s eyes bugged out of his head. “You flushed ten thousand dollars’ worth of pot and coke? Are you out of your fucking mind, you stupid bitch?” His hand swung back, and he hit me across the face—hard. “How the fuck am I supposed to pay for that shipment now?”

My hand flew to my aching cheek as tears threatened. If I thought Christian had shocked me with the drugs, I was flabbergasted now. I stared at the stranger in front of me, confused at how everything, my whole relationship and who I thought he was, all fell apart so quickly. Just an hour ago we were sharing a cupcake for my birthday.

I turned, silently walking out of the bathroom and to the front door, only pausing to gather my purse. I could hear Christian muttering curses—I didn’t know if they were aimed at himself or at me—but frankly I was through caring.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I was sitting at my desk, working on updating the server, when my phone buzzed, indicating I had a text. As I glanced to see who it was from, a smile spread across my face, and then disappeared. Just because she was talking to me again didn’t mean it would be in my favor.

The text read,

Can U meet? I need 2 talk 2 U. It’s important
.

I hadn’t heard from Jillian in over two weeks. I knew I had acted like a jackass and attempted everything I could think of to apologize, but she refused to return any of my calls or texts, and then she quit her job. I had about given up hope I’d ever see her again.

It tore me up that I hurt her so badly. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do, and it was hard for me to give her space and time to cool off. I wanted to go to her, and even ended up driving by the playground and her house a few times to catch a glimpse of her, hoping maybe to get her alone so we could talk.

But after one week turned into two, I feared the worst. And I had no one to blame but myself.

I opened my phone back up and texted a reply.

Yes. When & where?

It was only seconds later when she got back to me.

ASAP. Playground.

I shoved my phone in my pocket and logged off the computer.

“Hey, what’s up? Where you off to?” JT asked. I hadn’t told him the whole story about what had happened between Jillian and me, but between my sour mood and the timing of Jillian’s departure, he suspected. He tried—repeatedly—to get me to tell him what happened, but I wouldn’t utter a peep. I didn’t want him getting the wrong idea about Jillian and then spreading it around the office.

“I’m taking the rest of the day off. Cover for me.”

“What do you mean you’re taking the day off? You never take time off unless someone’s dead. And even then you’d probably bring your laptop to the funeral. So what gives?”

I paused, scrubbing my hand over my forehead while I tried to think of what to tell him. “Something came up that can’t wait. I know it’ll be hard, doing it alone and all, and I feel real bad leaving you in a bind. So if anything major comes up you can’t handle, I’ll come back tonight and I’ll fix it.”

JT crossed his arms. “Pfft! I can handle anything that comes up. Go on, get outta here. I’ll hold down the fort.”

I smiled wickedly as I made my way toward the car. JT had fallen right into that, and he didn’t even see it coming.

But all thoughts of JT faded as I drove. What could have happened to make Jillian contact me? Whatever it was, it was urgent. I hoped nothing happened with her grandmother again. That family had been through enough recently.

I made it to the playground twenty minutes later. I could see from the parking lot that Jillian was there, pacing back and forth between the sliding board and swings with her hand to her mouth. Knowing her, she was biting the side of her thumb again. She looked stunning in a strapless purple sundress bathed in the Georgia summer sun. She paused and took her hair out of the braid, piece by piece until it was all free and cascaded in waves down her back. She began braiding it again and then shook it free once more. The soft locks almost looked like a dark gold at this angle. I wanted to stand back and watch her all day. I could have, she was that beautiful.

But even at this distance, I could see she was plagued with worry. Even if she was pissed as hell at me, I couldn’t stand by if there was something I could do to ease it—if only for a few moments.

She turned my way when she heard the car door slam, and even at this distance I saw her face crumble. I quickened my pace, anxious to get to her. Her lip quivered as I approached, and then the tears fell as I scooped her in my arms. Her knees buckled, so I carried her to a nearby bench and let her just cry.

A ton of worst-case scenarios ran through my mind as to why she was so upset, but I didn’t want to ask. I knew she’d explain why she’d asked me here as soon as she was ready. Until then, I was content to have her in my arms again.

When her crying slowed some time later, she began to speak—softly, as if it were a secret.

“I should have listened to you. I was so naïve. I must have been blind not to see it all this time.”

“What didn’t you see, Jillian? What happened?”

She sighed. “I don’t even know where to start. Everything just unraveled and then it exploded.”

She lifted her head from my chest and faced me. It was the first time I’d gotten a close-up view of her face today, and I was floored. I held her chin gently between my thumb and forefinger and turned her face slowly from side to side, examining her. She had a large, purpling bruise on most of her left cheek, and her eye was beginning to swell. There was no cut, but there was a faint outline of three fingers near her temple. Someone had hit her—hard.

I fought to remain calm, but it was a losing battle. I couldn’t see straight as every instinct in my body told me—urged me to action. “Did that son of a bitch hit you?”

Her eyes began to pool again, and she only nodded in reply.

“That god-damned piece-of-shit motherfucker.” I growled, breathing heavily through my nose to keep my temper in check. I clenched and unclenched my hands, wanting to punch something. My heart raced with a surge of adrenaline, and I began to shake in anger. My muscles tightened as rage filled me, consuming and overpowering any rational thought.

I wanted to leave her here and go hunt him down, but I knew I couldn’t. She was still on my lap and had seen enough violence for one day. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her. I let out a deep breath and cupped her face, laying the gentlest of kisses on her bruised cheek before I said anything else.

“Jillian, I don’t know what happened, but I need to say this. It is, under no circumstances, permissible for him to lay a finger on you. There is nothing you could have said or done to deserve such an action.” I paused, letting out a deep breath while I tried to gather just the right words. “I promise you, it will be the last time. And he will regret this. He will regret harming you, disrespecting you, and not honoring your trust. I will make sure he knows—in no uncertain terms—that any such actions have consequences. Like beating the shit out of him to see how he likes it. And making sure he can’t do it again by ripping his arms out of his fuckin’ sockets—and beating him with them until he’s reduced to a bloody pulp.”

Jillian leaned up and put a hand on my arm, causing me to pause. “It’s okay, Grant. I’m okay. And I left as soon as it happened. I won’t let him ever get close enough to try again. I promise.”

I pulled her back to my chest and hugged her tight. “God, Jillian. When you called me, I never would have imagined. I honestly want to kill that fuckin’ bastard. It’ll be worth every moment I spend in jail if it means he can’t go near you ever again. Near any woman. I mean, I never would have let you go back anywhere close to him if I’d known he’d do this.”

She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, wincing a bit when she brushed over her sore cheek. “He’s selling weed. And coke. You were right. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to believe he was lying to me for so long. He swore to me a year ago that he was completely done with the stuff and I believed him.”

“Start from the beginning, and tell me what you need. Name it and it’s yours.”

“I was at his work, and he left to go get lunch. Some guy came and said he had a package. It seemed shady, ya know? Just the way it was delivered, and then it didn’t say anything on the box, like no name or anything. And I kept hearing your voice, your accusations. And I wanted to prove you wrong. So I opened it.