The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (136 page)

“If it’s just the two of us, that means you’ll have to be my bodyguard if things get out of control,” he grins wickedly at me.  “I’ll be depending on you, Running Girl.”

“Maybe I should bring the can of Pepper Spray that Auggie used to make me bring on all my dates,” I tell him.

“Did he make you bring it on our first date?” he demands to know.

“Absolutely,” I tell him.  “And I would have used it too, if you weren’t so damn adorable.”

Within an hour, we exchange cars with Adam and head west, away from the shore.  We arrive at a tree farm just outside Cherry Hill.  The parking lot is nearly full.  It seems like lots of others had the same idea today. “Juliette, there are a lot of people here.  Are you sure this is what you want?  I really don’t want to make a scene.”

“No one will even know you’re here.”  I hand him his woolen cap, a pair of sunglasses, and without much fuss, he’s completely unrecognizable.  We walk around the tree farm like a normal young couple.  No one is following us, taking pictures, or even asking for autographs. 

As we wander around the farm, an older gentleman approaches.  Perhaps it was wishful thinking to hope we could go out in public without being recognized.  Evan is far too generous, and sometimes the older men will talk his ear off.  They like to reminisce about past games, former quarterbacks, and better times.  Evan sees him coming too, and he braces for impact.

“So, how can I help you two kids?  Do you know what kind of tree you’re looking for today?  We have Douglas fir, balsam, spruce, and Scotch pine.”  This man has no idea who Evan is – to him, we’re just another paying customer.  He shows us around the farm, pointing out all the tree varieties and lecturing us about the pros and cons of each. 

With the help of our new friend, we cut down the perfect ten-foot tall balsam fir and get it tied securely to the roof of Adam’s car.  As Evan pays the helpful gray-haired man, he gets a lecture about the best type of tree stand and some useful tips about keeping the tree alive for as long as possible.

Soon we’re on our way home.  I crank up the heat as I shiver while Evan sings along to the Christmas music playing on the radio.  My man is good at so many things, but apparently singing is not one of them.  I’m enjoying the show too much to tell him how off-key he really is. 

We stop at a small hardware store and buy a dozen boxes of twinkling lights and Evan lets me buy a few boxes of tinsel. 

Once we arrive home with our first Christmas tree, Evan unties it and carries it to the back of the house while I clear the spot in our living room where it will go.  I head straight to the kitchen to start making hot cocoa.  I gaze out the kitchen window and watch Evan as he shakes the loose pine needles from the tree, giving it a good bang on the wooden deck over and over until he’s satisfied.

Evan finally brings the tree inside and places it right in front of the large window in our living room that looks out onto the Atlantic Ocean.  I crank up more holiday music and bring Evan his hot cocoa.  We spend the rest of the day decorating our first tree.

I
pick up Auggie on Thursday morning.  It’s our monthly Alive Day Celebration.  I told him to dress comfortably casual and to tell Lucas we won’t be home until after dinner, but that’s all the intel I’m willing to give him.  The last time we did this, he left me guessing right up until the very end, so it’s only fair that I do the same.

Auggie grills me about the picture from David as we drive toward our unnamed destination.  “Okay, spill.  What happened when you went to Denver on Sunday?  Did you see David the Dicksickle?”

“No, Auggie, I told you.  Adam and I were with the team the whole time.”

“I don’t understand.  Why did he send you that photo?  Has he called you or sent you any more pictures?” 

Dammit, I hate lying to Auggie.  But the fewer people who know about my rendezvous, the better.  “David’s always been a control freak.  I think he just wants me to know that he can still push my buttons.  But I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of a response.” 

“I dunno.  Maybe you’re right.  We still don’t know what he wants, so maybe it’s best if we wait for him to make his next move.”  I have no intention of telling Auggie about the second picture and the Denver deal. 

Hoping to change the subject, I say, “Have you figured out where we’re going yet?”

“No clue.  How about a hint?”

I love playing guessing games.  “Okay.  What we’re doing today won’t cost us any money.  It’s something not enough people do, but everyone should do this at least once in their lifetime.”

“Hmm.  It’s free and not enough people do it.  Are we going to a museum?”

“Nope, not a museum.  It’s a place you never want to need, but lots of people go there anyway.”

Auggie thinks he has it.  “I know, are we volunteering at a hospital?”

“You’re wrong about the hospital, Auggie, but right about volunteering.  Look in the back seat for your last clue.”

He turns around and sees shopping bags filled with boxes and cans from the restaurant and home.  “We’re going to a volunteer at a food pantry, aren’t we?”

“We are.  I made arrangements for us to work at the Community Kitchen of West Harlem.  We’re going to spend the day bagging groceries for needy families, restocking the shelves, and maybe even helping to serve some hot meals.”  Since the colleges closed for the semester, the restaurant has significantly slowed down.  I don’t have a lot of funds available to plan expensive or extravagant outings.  I know if I asked Evan, he’d be more than happy to finance anything we’d ask, but I’d rather not ask.  “What do you think?”

“I think you’re making me look bad.  How am I supposed to top that one next month?  Sign us up to be organ donors?”

“C
all when you’re on your way home,” I tell Evan as I kiss him goodbye.  Tomorrow the Sentinels are playing at home against the Steelers.  That means he’ll have a nice easy day of watching game film, working out, and planning strategy.

I get to work much earlier than usual.  The restaurant is empty and the first shift isn’t due for a couple of hours.

This past week has been a roller coaster, full of ups and downs.  If it wasn’t for Marcus holding down the fort here at work, I know the business would be falling apart at the seams.  He’s been taking care of the scheduling, the ordering, and managing operations.  It’s time for me to sit down and take care of the rest – paying the bills, returning emails, and doing payroll. 

I’ve given Marcus the morning off as my way of saying thank you.  He deserves a Saturday afternoon off to take Camilla out to brunch or just lounge around the house.

It takes over an hour to get through all my emails and complete payroll.  Reporting tips and wages to the government is much more complicated than I ever imagined.  We had a class on it in school, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

Finally I can focus my attention on paying the bills.  One by one I go through them, double-checking and in some cases, triple-checking before writing the check.  I meticulously keep track of my expenses as well as our income.  December is a difficult month to run a business at the beach, especially since the local colleges sent their entire student body home for the holidays. 

Our covers are down by almost half.  We’re barely making payroll. I look at the unopened envelopes and quickly do a few calculations in my head.  I have enough to cover the electric, the laundry service, and the alarm company.  There’s one envelope left to open.  If this bill is more than one hundred dollars, then I’ll have to borrow some money from Evan to pay it.

I slice open the envelope and slide out the contents, only to discover that this is not a bill.  It’s a thank you card, the kind you buy from Hallmark.  My momentary relief is quickly replaced by outrage when I open it and see the signature.  It’s signed
Love, David
.  The prick is now sending mail to my restaurant.

There’s a hand-written note and a small envelope tucked inside the card.  My blood pressure rises exponentially as I read the message. 

THANK YOU FOR THE EQUIPMENT.

IT’S A GREAT START.

~D

I open the small envelope and pull out another photograph.  But this one’s different.  There’s no red chair, just a bed.  This picture is clearer than the last, and there’s no mistaking me, naked, bent over and leaning on the bed while getting fucked from behind, my face twisted and contorted.  Chills run down my spine as I stare at David’s face glaring back at me, looking directly into the camera with a wicked, evil smile.  On the back is another Post-it note that simply says,

DID YOU THINK WE WERE DONE?

GUESS AGAIN.

SAME DEAL AS BEFORE.

I decide to call David right away.  I’m not going to let this hang over my head.  I need answers.  I can actually hear my heart beating wildly in my chest.  I’ve never wanted to hurt someone so badly in my life.  I want to make his heart stop beating.  I want him to go away – forever.

Before I call him, I have to decide how I’m going to play it.  I could put on the tears and beg him to stop and leave me alone.  But that approach never worked with him in the past.  The harder I cried, the more demanding and cruel he became.  Showing weakness seemed to spur him on.  It was like he got a rush out of breaking me down.

I could threaten him right back.  Remind him that my fiancé has access to the best lawyers money can buy and we could put him behind bars as quick as a flash.  There are laws against extortion and it wouldn’t be hard to prove my case.  But that would mean going public right before the playoffs.  It’s out of the question and he knows it.

My last hope is to negotiate.  I have to find out what his end game is.  How far is he willing to take this?  How far am I willing to let him go?  Time to find out. 

I dial his number and wait to hear his voice.  He doesn’t answer right away.  After the fifth ring, the phone finally clicks.  “Hello, Kitten. I thought I might hear from you today.  Did you get my card?”

“You know I did.”

“That’s good. I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful.  I thought I should thank you properly.”  If I could reach through the phone and strangle him, I would.

“And you think threatening me with another photograph is the best way to thank me?  I’d rather you just disappear.”

“Now you know I can’t do that, Kitten.”  The phone goes silent for a moment while we both consider our next move.  It’s like a game of chess and I’m afraid he’s playing me like a pawn.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” I tell him.

“I’ve been thinking and I’ve decided I’d like to see you again.  The Sentinels are playing in Indianapolis next week.  How about we meet there Saturday, one week from today?  I’d be willing to sell you some more of the memorabilia I’ve collected from our past.”

It’s taking every ounce of my inner strength to stay calm.  “I didn’t realize you were such a romantic, David.  I threw every single thing away that you ever gave me.  I even burned a few of them.”

“I’m full of surprises.  Now, I don’t want to frighten you, but I’ve asked around and found out that there are a good number of people prepared to pay me big bucks for this sort of thing.  But in light of our long history together, I’d be willing to sell it to you at a discount.  I don’t really see the need to invite other people into our lives at this point, so close to the playoffs and all.” He laughs derisively and it sends chills down my spine.

“Same deal as before?” I ask.

“Same deal.”

“I get the original?”

“I just got done telling you it was the same deal as before.  Don’t ask stupid questions.”  Now that’s the David that I remember.  Calm and cool one moment, then turning angry and demeaning on a dime.

“One more question, how do I – ”

“No more questions.  We’ll talk in Indianapolis.” He hangs up the phone.  God dammit.  How am I supposed to come up with another ten thousand dollars when I can barely make payroll? 

Then it hits me – my Christmas ornaments.  Evan paid exactly ten thousand dollars for them at the gift auction.  I could tell him that I dropped them or that Maddy knocked down the tree and they broke.  I can find a way to sell them.  I have to.