His hands tangled in her still-wet hair. “El,” he stepped back and looked her directly in the eyes again, “if you don’t have to work for something, it’s usually not worth shit.”
She was silent. She hadn’t meant her relationship with George, she meant everything.
Jamie…life
. Everything was so fucking hard. She knew she’d never have easy, but fuck, she’d take relatively difficult at this point.
“I hope I’m worth the fight,” he whispered into her ear, then turned abruptly and went upstairs.
George’s last night at their house before he left for the campaign trail was painful. They slept in the same bed, but were miles apart. He stared into the darkness of his closet for hours and thought of all the things that could go wrong. George turned over and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his body.
“I love you,” he whispered into her ear.
“I know.”
“I’m going to miss you.”
She turned so that they were face to face. “I know.” She smirked with her eyes still closed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, opening her eyes. She could hardly see him, but she could make out the outline of his face.
“For what, Love?”
“For me. I’m just so lost, George. You’re my only sure thing. The only thing I know that I need. Everything else is…”
“A fucking hurricane,” he finished for her.
She leaned in a few inches and kissed him gently. “A fucking hurricane,” she said into his mouth, parting his lips with her tongue.
“I promise we’re in this together, Love. Me and you.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted then kissed him again, this one hungrier. “Not for me, but for you and Millie and everyone else I love.”
“I know.” He pulled her earlobe into his mouth, then ran his tongue the length of her collarbone.
“I’m so happy for you.” She was breathless now.
“Shut up.” His hands searched her entire naked body. She’d gone back to sleeping without clothes on a few months ago. He assumed she was becoming more comfortable with her scars, the ones that pissed him off every time he saw them.
Her head fell back against her pillow and for the first time in a long time she did what she was told.
The week after George left, Stella tried to keep herself busy with work. On Thursday, she drove to her yoga class in her sex mobile. Her seat was vibrating, all the windows were down, and she was even singing to the boy band on the radio until she realized what she was doing and changed the channel. The broadcaster on the other station was reporting on the FBI Beauty and the latest rumors. Why did anyone give a shit about what she was doing? Disgusted, she turned the radio off and called Jesse.
“Hey, Stella,” he answered.
“What’s up, my football-playing friend? You’ve been doing very well this season.” She’d been keeping up with his stellar season—he’d been all over ESPN.
“You’ve been watching?”
“Of course.” Stella was certain he would make the Pro Bowl this year. “If you make it to Hawaii, will you invite me?”
“You don’t think George will mind?” Jesse joked.
“Let’s not tell him; let him find out on Twitter.” Stella played along.
“Still bad?” Jesse laughed.
“Bad is relative. Can I leave my house without pictures everywhere? No. However, I have been able to buy tampons on my own lately.”
“Fuck! Thanks for that visual.”
“What, that I have a vagina? I’m pretty sure you knew that.”
Jesse’s laugh was hearty. “Did you need something? I gotta jet; watching video.”
“I just wanted to hear your sweet southern voice.” Stella sighed. “I missed it.”
“After the season, we’ll hang out, I promise. Shit is just crazy right now.”
“I totally understand,” she sympathized. “Just know I’m watching you.”
“I appreciate it.”
“By the way, did you download that app I was telling you about?” Stella asked.
“Yes. Me and all the guys are using it. Thanks.”
“Okay. I’ll find you on it and leave you messages while I watch you play. I’m sure you’ll love that.”
“I’d only let you do that,” he acknowledged. “Before you go, how’s your Jamie situation?”
“I’m working with the FBI. I think they’ll arrest him, I just have to figure out how to get them what they need to arrest him without incriminating myself. I’m still in the planning mode.”
“Keep me informed.” Jesse said something to someone else in the room. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do. Thanks, J.” She paused. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Stella. Keep your head down.”
Stella rolled over to stare at the clock; it was 4:36 am. She couldn’t sleep again. George had been gone for over a week and she missed him. Since the warmth of his hand on her shoulder was gone, she couldn’t sleep through the night, even with taking the sleeping pills. It was like her body needed him there. He’d left for who knows how long and she dove headfirst into work to distract herself from missing him. It didn’t work. When he was in the room with her, the world felt right for some reason she couldn’t figure out. George being in her life made the things that were fucked up fade to the background. Without that presence, all the things she didn’t want to think about rose to the surface and wrapped their tentacles around her, pulling her under.
Sighing, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling fan. Cooper’s head popped up. He always started off the night sleeping at the foot of the bed, but without fail, his head was on the pillow when she woke up.
Petting his head, she smiled. “You crazy dog. George won’t appreciate you sleeping on his pillow.” She sat up and decided to go for her morning run a few minutes early. Since George left, she’d been running early every morning; like, before five am early, when the paparazzi leeches weren’t out watching for her. “Come on!” she called to Cooper and walked into the guest bedroom to put on her clothes.
Cooper followed her into the other room and got excited seeing her tie her running shoes. He matched her steps on the stairs and ran directly to the door where his leash hung on a hook.
Stella left the house and waved at Gunter sitting in the dark sedan in front of their house. He didn’t talk to her very often, but was professional and would give her updates about the investigation if she asked him directly.
She started off easy, running up Cameron and crossing over Washington into an old cemetery that let out a block later. As they turned a left to run towards King Street, she ran directly into a man’s chest as he stepped out of the shadows. They collided and she took a step back, dropping Cooper’s leash.
Fucking clementines
. Cooper jumped up and down, smelling Jamie and wagging his tail.
“What the fuck?” she demanded, looking around to assess whether there was anyone on the street. She already knew the answer. Her mind was working a mile a minute. She assumed if she wasn’t back from her typical run, Gunter may call it in or try to find her. She didn’t know. Jamie may shoot her and leave her body on the street.
What the fuck was she thinking running by herself?
“Stella,” Jamie’s voice was jovial, “I’m glad you’re so predictable.”
“What do you mean?”
“For the past week and a half since that prick left, you run around 4:45 every morning.” Jamie put his hands in his pockets. “It’s like clockwork, unless it’s raining.”
Stella looked around again for anyone on the street.
Fuck.
“Coop, come.”
Jamie bent down and grabbed Cooper’s leash. “Wait a minute. We need to talk.”
“Give it.” Stella’s voice was fierce.
Do not fuck with Cooper
.
“Not until you listen to me. This can end well or it can end a different way. I’m hoping you’ll be smarter than you were in Key West.” His voice was harsh and Stella was listening.
“What do you want?” Stella fought to keep her voice even, but she was looking at Cooper and thinking of what she would do if Jamie hurt her dog.
Their dog
.
Fuck.
“You know what I want, Stella. Where’s my money?” Jamie stood, holding the leash in one hand, his stance casual.
His nonchalance pissed her off. Hardness crept along the tissue of her body.
Good.
She needed that hardness because he was beginning to look more like the Jamie she’d loved once, the clean-cut college boy with the warm smile. She knew that was on purpose. He was trying to ingratiate himself back into the agency as a wronged undercover agent instead of a crazy, fiancé-shooting bastard. Too bad they couldn’t see through his bullshit like she could.
“What money?” she mocked him.
Jamie smiled, shaking his head. “My money.” That old twinkle was back in his eye and the confident swagger that she used to find so attractive now made her skin crawl.
“Wait, do you mean the money I found in Key West? That money is long gone, Jamie. Or is it Jack now?” Insolent, she put her hands on her hips, daring him to do something to her.
Jamie’s hands came around her throat so fast she didn’t have time to react. “You better be joking, Stella.” He pushed her up against the brick wall by the neck and lifted her up. The toes of her running shoes scraped the sidewalk and she kicked furiously. Her fear was palpable and she tried to swallow it.
Stella’s kicking and thrashing began to slow after a few minutes; she was having a hard time breathing. Tears began falling from her eyes, dropping on their own like rain off of tree branches. Images flashed in her brain: her parents, George, Patrick. One by one, the pictures rolled through her brain and fell away. She shook her head.
Not like this.
Once darkness clouded her vision, he released her and threw her to the ground. In spite of her thoughts and her inability to breathe, she popped up quickly, taking even, slow breaths. She took a minute to calm herself and looked him defiantly in the eyes.
“You know…it was so nice having some spending money. I bought some shoes and the suit I wore to testify against your friend. Oh yeah, I got the hottest car I’ve ever been in, too. Have you seen it? I practically had an orgasm when I cranked it.” She was just talking, trying to buy time to allow her brain to come up with a way out of this situation.
“You just put a nail in your own fucking coffin.” Jamie’s voice was void of emotion. He was wearing jeans, the same New Balance tennis shoes he used to always wear, a red fleece, and a Bass Pro Shop hat pulled down low on his head. He looked identical to the old Jamie, and for a moment it was difficult to separate his looks from the monster he’d become. She knew he’d done that intentionally.
It was as if the cord that had been barely holding her together for the last five years snapped with such force her body braced itself. Time stood still and she punched Jamie in the nose with all she had, catching him off guard. She actually heard the bones in her hand crack on impact. Pain shot up her arm and she winced and let out the first word that came to her mind. “FUCK!”
She shook her hand and took a step back from him. “Can’t you just be happy you ruined me?! Not only did you shoot me, but I loved you and you ruined any chance that I ever had to be okay! I’m so fucked up because of YOU! And you just keep making it worse!” She pushed him, pain radiated down her right arm. “All that shit you said to me in Key West was complete and utter bullshit. ‘I shot you because I didn’t want him to rape you,’” she mimicked. “BULLSHIT! ‘I kidnapped you because I love you.’ BULLSHIT! You couldn’t call me or email me to let me know you were alive? BULLSHIT! You sure as hell told your momma and your sister you were alive. Was that before or after I watched them cry when your
casket
was lowered into the ground? I fucking loved you once. I
loved
you. I was going to
marry you
.” She was panting and beat her chest with her left fist. “But I have
never
hated anyone as much as I hate you. I’m sick of your shit,
JACK
. IF YOU’RE GOING TO KILL ME, FUCKING DO IT! I’M TIRED OF BEING SCARED EVERYDAY. I’M TIRED OF TRYING TO BE SOMEONE I’M NOT. FUCKING DO IT! Put me out of my fucking misery. Do what you need to do to me, but leave George out of it.”