The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (146 page)

There are at least a dozen from Auggie alone.  He must have gotten my message and now he’s freaking out.  In hindsight, I know it wasn’t very wise of me to leave him a message like that.  He knows the emotional torture David put me through in the past and he must be worried sick.

I try calling, but it goes directly to his voicemail.  With no other options, I type out a short text to let him know I’m okay.  I tell him that David left, we talked for a long time and came to an understanding, and that he won’t be a problem any more.  I wait patiently, but get no response.

There’s a knock on the door, most likely the girls trying to get me to come out with them.  I ignore the knocking, hoping they will eventually give up and go away.  I can’t lie any more and I certainly can’t tell them the truth.

The knocking turns into forceful banging, along with an angry male voice. “Jette, open the door.  It’s Adam.  I have to talk to you.”

Shit.  I forgot Adam was travelling with the team for the last game of the season.  Reluctantly I open the door to let him in.  He takes one look at me and I know I must look a mess.  I never brushed my hair after my shower and all I’m wearing is a robe that hangs on me like a wet sack.  “Go get changed, and for God’s sake, brush your hair.  You look like shit.  We need to talk.”

Of course I look like shit.  I’d be shocked if I didn’t.  “Adam, please just go.  I don’t have the energy to deal with you now.”

He grabs me by the arm and drags me into my bedroom.  He rips open my suitcase, grabs a pair of jeans along with a T-shirt, and tosses them to me.  “Put this on.  Now.  I’m not fucking around, Jette.”  He turns around and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I’m moving in slow motion.  I have to think about every movement before I make it.  Lift leg.  Slip on pant leg.  Repeat.  Snap.  Zip.  It continues that way until I’m dressed and my hair is tied up in some sort of a messy bun. 

I emerge to find Adam sitting on the couch, holding a glass filled with some sort of amber liquid.  Whiskey, I would guess.  I sit down slowly and deliberately, not at all anxious to hear whatever lecture he’s about to give me.

He takes one look at me and blurts out, “Are you selfish, stupid, or suicidal?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.  What the hell were you thinking?  It’s the day before the last game of the season, and thanks to you, Evan’s a fucking mess. He came to my room with his hand iced and wrapped in a towel and he asked me to get him a bottle of tequila.”

“Oh my God!  Is Evan okay?  How bad is it?”

“I just left Evan with the team doctor.  He sprained his hand.  He’s on the bench for tomorrow’s game, Jette.”

A sudden burst of energy ignites and I leap to my feet, scrambling to find my shoes.

“What are you doing?” Adam asks.

“Looking for my shoes.  I have to go to him, Adam.  Isn’t that why you’re here?  You’re going to take me to see him, right?”

Slowly, Adam rises from the couch, walks over to me, takes me by the hand, and leads me toward a chair.  “Juliette, sit down.  I’m not taking you to see him.  I’m taking you home.”

“Home?  I don’t understand.”  I look over at Adam and he’s got a deadly serious look on his face.  He’s not kidding.

“I’ve already called Jocelyn and Brianna and told them you’re flying back home tonight.  They think you’re sick.”

“Is Evan going to meet us there?  Is he leaving too?”

“No, he’s not.  As a matter of fact, Marcus is at the beach house right now packing up a few of Evan’s things and getting him a hotel room.”  I’m in shock.  I don’t know what to say.  “He doesn’t want you at the game and he doesn’t want to see you, Jette.”

“Adam, if I could just see him, I could explain everything.  I can make him understand.  I know I can.  Please, Sparky, I’m begging you.  Take me there.” 

“Juliette Fletcher, we’ve been through Hell and back together.  But my loyalty lies with Evan.  I have to do what’s best for him, and right now, what’s best for him is to put about seven hundred miles between you two.” 

“Did Evan tell you?  Do you know what happened?”

“He told me enough.  I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation, but right now I have to get you checked out of this hotel before Evan gets back.  Let him cool off.  Just give him a little space and time enough to calm down.”

Everything around me is hazy as I walk around gathering my things and tossing them into my bag.  I’m in a mindless fog.  I have no idea if I’ve left anything behind, and frankly, I couldn’t care less.

But the thing about a fog is that eventually it clears, and when it does, I find just enough inner strength to stand up for myself like I should have done from the very beginning with David.  “I’m not going,” I tell Adam.

Adam’s not having any of it.  “I’ve already checked you out.  We’re going to the airport to exchange our tickets for two seats on the red-eye back to Atlantic City.  I know it’s not what you want right now, but it’s for the best.  Trust me.”

“Adam, I will not be handled by anyone, not even you.  So why don’t you just go back and tell your boss that if he wants me to leave, he’s going to have to come up here and tell me himself.”  I plant my feet firmly on the ground and I have no intention of leaving this room.  “You and I both know I’m not having an affair.  Do I have to tell you who was up here in my room, or have you figured it out already?”

“I’m not an idiot, Jette.  I know damn well that scumbag is the one who was up here, and I don’t want to know why he was anywhere near your bedroom.  I know too much already.  But if you don’t leave with me now, I’ll have no choice but to tell Evan everything.”

“I’m not an idiot, either,” I argue.  “I know you won’t tell Evan anything.  Not now.  How do you think it will help to tell him that I’ve been blackmailed and,” I struggle to find the right words, “well, worse?”

Adam looks at me quizzically, clearly clueless about what happened here today.  “What could be worse than being blackmailed?” 

I say nothing and wait for him to work it out in his head.  It doesn’t take long for Adam to connect the dots. 

“Did he?” 

I shake my head.  “No.  But I almost ... ”  My voice trails off.  “He wanted more money.  Money I don’t have.  Now I’ve really pissed him off.  And Evan thinks I ... ”

“What do you expect him to think?  You had some prick up here in your hotel room.  What were you thinking?”

“You weren’t there.  You couldn’t possibly fathom ...  I had no choice.”

Pacing around the room, he says the very thing I didn’t want to admit to myself.  “Bullshit.  You had a choice.  You could have called any one of us and we would have been there for you.  But you decided you were going to handle this all by yourself, and look how well that worked out.” 

I try to defend myself.  “Evan wasn’t supposed to find out – not now and definitely not like this.”

“Well, I may not agree with your choices, but you are right about one thing – telling Evan now would be a disaster.  The Sentinels have a playoff game in two weeks, and Evan can’t help the team if he’s in jail for murder.”

“So what do we do?” I ask.

“I have no idea.  This is your mess.  When you figure it out, let me know.  I’ve got to go pick up Evan and take him back to the hotel.”  Adam walks out the door, leaving me alone once again.  I don’t know what to do.

I call Auggie again, hoping that perhaps he can help me figure out what to do.  Again the call goes right to voicemail.  I suppose Evan will be here soon to tell me he wants me gone, so there’s nothing left to do but wait.  I grab a blanket from the bed and curl up on the couch, thumbing through the channels, hoping to find something to numb my brain while I wait for the axe to drop.  An old Brat Pack movie has just started, and I can’t resist watching
The Breakfast Club
for the umpteenth time.

I have no idea what I’ll say to Evan when he arrives; beg forgiveness, perhaps.  All I know is that I can’t tell him everything, but I also can’t lie to him anymore.  As the images flash across the screen, I struggle to find just the right words to convince Evan to forgive me.  It’s no use. There are no words to express my shame and desperation.  I have no excuse to offer.

My head begins to pound mercilessly.  The migraine I complained about earlier is now here in full force.  I am physically and emotionally drained.  There’s no way I can keep my eyes open, and there’s no reason to fight the relief that will come when sleep arrives.

I’ve never been able to sleep well in strange places, and this hotel room, as comfortable as it may be, is anything but comforting.  But even if I sleep for just a few minutes, it will be a welcome. 

When my eyes open again, the room is bathed in darkness and the credits are rolling.  I slept through the entire movie.  Evan never came.

As I struggle to wake, there is an incessant banging on my door.  I turn off the television and pull myself together as best I can.  There’s no point in avoiding the inevitable.  It’s do or die time.

I take a deep, cleansing breath and cautiously grab the doorknob, afraid of what I may be greeted with.  Before opening the door, I glance through the peephole and the most welcome sight is standing there before me.  I swing the door open and throw my arms around him.  “Auggie, what are you doing here?  How did you get here?  Did you fly?”

“I did.  And I wouldn’t have made it through takeoff if it wasn’t for moneybags over here.”  He jabs Derek in the ribs.

“Oh my God!  Derek?  You’re here too?”  I throw my arms around him, thankful for the support.  Just seeing the them breathes new life into me.

“Well, that message of yours came through right after the closing on my house.  When Auggie told me you might be in trouble, we got on the first flight to Indianapolis.”

“How did you know where to find me?” I ask.  I know the hotel doesn’t give out information about its guests.

“The minute we landed, I called Adam.”  The joy I felt just moments ago is now gone.  “He told us everything, baby girl.  Get your bags together and let’s go.”

“I can’t go.  Suppose Evan comes back?  I have to be here.”

Derek looks me square in the eyes and tells me in no uncertain terms, “He’s not coming, Jette.  Not tonight.  It’s time to go.”

Grudgingly, I grab my bag and follow the boys to the elevator.  Only instead of pushing the button for the lobby, Derek pushes the button for the top floor.  “Derek, where exactly are we going?” I ask.

He turns and tells me, “I booked us a three-bedroom suite.”

“We have a lot to discuss,” Auggie adds.

It’s nearly midnight when I finish telling my entire story.  I don’t leave out any details. 

“Juliette, let’s get one thing straight,” Derek tells me.  “You were not unfaithful.  You did the right thing.  You said no and you stopped.  You need to get that straight in your head.”

Auggie hasn’t let go of my hand since I started talking.  “He’s right Jepetto.  And Evan will understand.  He loves you.  Give him a day or two to calm down, and then you can explain all of it.  He’ll come around.”  I look into Auggie’s eyes, and I can see love, patience, and kindness there.

Derek, on the other hand, looks like he’s ready to kick some ass.  “Auggie, if you don’t mind, I need to clear my head.  I’d like to go for a walk.  Will you stay here with her?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Auggie assures him as he walks out the door.

Suddenly my phone starts playing Lady Antebellum’s “I Run to You”, and I know it’s Evan calling.  Thank God.

“Hello?  Evan?  Please talk to me,” I beg.

“Wha’s his name?” Evan slurs.

“Whose name?” I ask.

“Your boyfriend, tha’s who.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, Evan.  I have a fiancé I love very much.”

“Tha’s a lie.  If hiss not your boyfriend, why d’ya fuck ‘im?”

“Evan, you’re drunk and I’m not going to explain this to you now.  Where’s Adam?”

“Wha’s his name?” he asks again.

“Please stop this,” I plead.

“Wha’s his name?”

“Evan, I –”

“Tell me his fuckin’ name!” he shouts into the phone.

“His name is David,” I finally confess.

He repeats the name, “David,” and then he laughs.  “Next time ya see David, tell ‘im he’s dead.”  Evan drops the phone.  I can hear him talking to someone in the background.  “Let’s go.  I want to go now.”

There’s a shuffling noise, but then Adam picks up the phone.  “Jette?  Is that you?”

“Adam, what’s going on over there?”

“I just got here.  Someone gave him a bottle of Patron.  I’ve gotta go.”  With a click he’s gone, and I have to trust that he can handle Evan.  At least I know the entire floor of the hotel is filled with his teammates, who won’t let him do anything crazy.

Auggie and I wait up for Derek.  We watch old movies and drink hot chocolate for hours.  Just as we’re about to give up and go to bed, the door opens and in walks Derek.  “You didn’t have to wait up for me,” he mumbles.

“We wanted to,” I tell him.  He still seems upset.  “Do you want to talk?” I ask.

“Nah.  I’m going to shower and then turn in.  It’s been a long day,” he replies.

“The longest,” I agree.

T
he three of us head downstairs for an early breakfast.  I keep looking over my shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of Evan and the team.  But logic tells me that even under the best of circumstances, I wouldn’t get to see Evan before his game.  The team is having a private breakfast, and then they’re off the stadium for their meeting and run-through.