Silence. Stella didn’t know if she could do that.
“I will never speak a word of the next 30 minutes to anyone. It wouldn’t matter if you told me you were going to leave this office and go kill someone. Do you understand?”
“You’d be breaking the law,” Stella said matter-of-factly.
Denise’s eyes took on an edge that Stella hadn’t seen before. “I don’t fucking care.”
Stella was taken aback by Denise’s words and then a smile spread across her face. She nodded at Denise to start.
Patrick and Stella were running a different route today and headed toward the city following the Potomac. It was a beautiful run by the river even when it was still dark outside. The moon reflected in the river made the run very dream-like and allowed Stella to get caught up in the scenery, distracting her from thinking about not being able to breathe. They’d just gotten their pace down when Patrick cleared his throat.
“I’ve been thinking, and I don’t like your plan right now.” He looked at her, but the darkness masked his features and she couldn’t tell if he was concerned or just being condescending.
“Well, come up with something better,” she said.
“I have.”
Silence.
“Well? What is it?” she asked impatiently.
Patrick kept his gaze straight ahead. “Need to know.”
“What the fuck do you mean, need to know? It’s my plan!” She stopped running; he didn’t. She had to race to catch up with him. “Patrick?”
“First of all, it’s our plan. We came up with it together, and honestly, I don’t know if getting the FBI to interview and arrest Jamie will end this.” He looked straight ahead.
“Sure it will.” She was positive she had a plan in place that would get Jamie out of their hair where he couldn’t hurt them.
“I don’t think we’re thinking about all the angles.”
“What angles are
we
missing?” Stella stared at him, trying to analyze his features.
“I’m concerned that the ATF is going to protect him, El. He was under for four fucking years to bust this group. They’re going to do everything they can to support him. And the fact that the FBI has been snooping around has made the atmosphere at the agency a little interesting.”
“Interesting?” she asked, not understanding his meaning.
“They aren’t going to let this happen. They’ll put him back under where it would be top secret where he’s located. We’ve got to come at this a different way.”
“What?” She felt like she did when she fell off the monkey bars when she was little, landing on her back in a heap. All of her confidence in her plan withered and disappeared.
“I also think he may be in deep shit with the group he was under with,” Patrick continued.
“No shit,” she said, that familiar hardness shoving its way back into her mind.
“No, I’m positive they don’t know he’s ATF. They think he’s on the run because of the bombing and he did steal that money from them when he left. Then you took it from him. They’re hunting him now.”
“So what? He’s hiding in plain sight?”
“Something like that,” Patrick confirmed.
“What are you thinking?”
“What if that group found out he was ATF?”
“They’d kill him.”
Patrick nodded. “Exactly.”
George had been on the road for over three weeks now and he was looking forward to heading home for a few days. He needed a break. He was sitting in another hotel room, writing a story about Senator Ashby’s stance on gun control. Needing a break, he pulled out his phone and sent a text to Stella.
My duck misses you
He threw his phone on the bed and pulled a Coke out of his cooler. His phone beeped.
Hahahahahahahaha your duck?
George looked at his phone and sure enough, the text he sent to start a sexual back and forth said duck instead of dick. He laughed out loud.
Yep. I want to put my duck everywhere
Stella texted back immediately.
Ducks need to stay in the water
George chuckled.
My duck needs some alone time so it can quack
His phone buzzed again.
You’re so weird. no duck is coming near me…dick that’s cool
He typed his next text and hit send.
So my duck quacking isn’t doing it for you
Her response was immediate.
No.
He laughed. George tapped on the Voxer app. “I was trying for sexting, but it’d be my luck to have a typo like that. My dick does miss you. I’d like to slip into something more comfortable.”
Her laughter sounded in his hotel room. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
Just the sound of her voice changed his entire mood. He felt lighter with her laughter ringing in his ears.
She was sitting on the couch, Cooper’s head on her lap. Every time Stella stroked his head, his tail wagged. Billy was playing some video game that had him killing zombies and she was drinking.
“So, you moving back in with us?” Billy asked, not taking his eyes off the screen.
“No. Just feeling a little vulnerable I guess.” She looked at her broken hand.
“Yeah, but Patrick said Jamie’s got a nice shiner. It was worth it, wasn’t it?” Billy smirked.
Although Stella didn’t tell him everything, she knew Patrick did, so telling Patrick was really like telling Billy, too.
“Fuck yeah it was,” she answered. Stella pulled an ink pen from the coffee table and stuck in down in the cast. “It itches like a bitch, though.” She kept moving the pen up and down, trying to scratch every inch of her hand and arm covered by the cast. The top of the pen got stuck in the cast when she pulled it out. “Fucker!” she swore, holding her arm out and shaking it so she could see where the cap had lodged itself.
“So, you’re allowing yourself to be used as bait, huh?” Billy asked, pausing the video game to watch her with an amused expression.
“Patrick told you?” She maneuvered the pen down her cast to try to push the top closer to the edge.
“Not much he doesn’t tell me these days, El. Millie has been on his ass constantly since you told her about him lying to you about Jamie. Low blow, by the way. So he needs someone to talk to with all you guys needing him and shit.” Billy walked over to where she was sitting and dropped down to the couch beside her. “Why can’t you need me?”
She filed away the fact that Millie was pissed at Patrick; she’d need to talk to him about it later. “Oh, but I do need you,” she said, laughing.
He took her arm in his hands and expertly used the pen to push the cap to the top of the cast and popped it out. “How’s that?” he asked.
“Oh, shit. Thank you.” She waved her cast at him. “See, I need you.”
“That doesn’t count,” he said, turning his video game back on and sinking back into his seat.
“I need you to give me a break in my otherwise pretty shitty existence. I need to talk about the pictures that keep circulating on Twitter, the fact that I shouldn’t wear tank tops anymore or that I’m twenty-fucking-six years old and I’m afraid to sleep in my own bed. And obviously, I need you to pull out the shit that I get stuck in my cast.”
Billy paused his game again and put his feet on the floor. “El, you don’t have to do this. Let the FBI do what it’s supposed to do. You’re not trained and it’s eating away at you.”
She took a sip of her wine. “I’m committed.”
“Or you should be committed.” He laughed. “I think it’s clear it won’t work. What will you do when it doesn’t work?”
“Know that I did every fucking thing that I could to keep George safe.”
“Get the fuck over yourself. This isn’t about George, it’s about you.”
She felt like he’d slapped her. This was about keeping the ones that she loved safe, even Billy.
“Stella,” he said, shaking her out of her own head.
She shook her head in disagreement.
No way.
“Admit it. You want revenge. Doesn’t have anything to do with George. You admit that to me and then we’ll talk more.” He started playing his game and put his legs back on the coffee table.
Stella took a sip of wine and petted Cooper. Maybe she had been lying to herself.
I’m more fucked up than I thought.
The next day, Stella hurried out of her office and onto K Street. She and Millie were meeting at Café Carvy for a quick lunch. Stella wanted to run an idea by Millie. She voxed her en route.
“Lunch Box, I—” She busted out laughing. “This is Magic Box. I’m almost there. Get me whatever you’re having.”
Her Voxer app beeped and she heard Millie laughing. “I may have to get Patrick to start calling me that too.”
Stella smiled as she walked across 19th St. and found Millie standing in line.
“What’d you get us?”
“Turkey,” Millie responded. “I have to watch what’s in this lunch box. Don’t want it to get overfilled, you know?”
“Fucking gross, Millie.” She slapped Millie’s arm and Millie laughed hysterically. “How was y’all’s date last night?”
“It was fine; we went to that Italian place in Old Town. I was surprised you were already in bed when we got home.”
“I went downstairs to think and ended up falling asleep.” She shrugged and picked up her sandwich from the counter.
Millie led them over to a small table outside. “Whatcha thinking about?”
“I want to surprise George in Iowa. Do you think he’d like that?”
Taking a big bite of her sandwich, Millie nodded. “Yes,” she said with her mouth full. “Definitely.” Millie’s phone dinged; she looked at it and smiled. “We’re on Twitter. Let’s do a selfie and I’ll post it.”
“A selfie?” Stella laughed. “I don’t want to have anything to do with your selfie.”
“A fucking picture, Stella. I’ll post it on Twitter. You do need good things on there, you know.”
“Oh, like where I’m eating lunch?” Stella was incredulous that anyone would give a shit where she was having lunch.
“Yes, like where we’re eating lunch. It’s already on there anyway.”
Relenting, Stella leaned into Millie and spread her perfected fake grin across her lips. Millie took a picture and then posted it.
“See? Easy peasy.”
“We’ll have to leave in like, ten minutes or people will come over here trying to kill me,” Stella joked.
“So, Patrick told me the FBI is using you for bait now,” Millie commented, then took another bite of her sandwich.
“Fuck…who hasn’t Patrick told?” Stella rubbed her face with the palm of her hand.
“He’s worried. I think talking about it helps him.” Millie shrugged. “Hot dress, by the way. It makes your ass look amazing.”
“My ass is amazing,” Stella said with a valley girl accent and Millie laughed.
“I’ve told you this a number of times, but I really don’t understand how dumb, don’t forget to pronounce the b, please, you are. Your plan or strategy or whatever it is…is pure…dumbassery.”
Stella stopped mid-bite and put her sandwich down. An amused smile played on her lips. “Dumbassery?” Millie nodded, chewing.
“That’s not a word.”
“It should be and you would be the definition.” Millie put her sandwich down too. She spread her hands around Stella’s face, framing it. “Your fucking picture is the definition of dumbassery.”