Time Out (25 page)

“Fine,
anything
else?”

“I want Gwyneth’s record expunged, except for what she did in the end.”

“You know she’s the one that told us you had the locket and the reason you were kidnapped in the first place.”

“Yeah—after your men had scared her half to death. I can’t
believe
she gave up my name after being repeatedly punched in the face,” I was growing angrier by the second, but Vance held up a hand to calm me as he looked back at the semi-closed door.

“Next?”

“That’s it.”

“Good, where’s the chip?”

“You will get it after I get those things on the list.”

“I can’t wait until then, I
need
that chip.”

“Then I guess you better get busy on that list.” I prepared myself for another stare down, but he must have realized his time was better served getting me what I wanted.

“You better have that microchip, and it better not be damaged from the bomb, or we’ll take
everything
back,” he made a point of saying before he high tailed it out of the hospital room.

             
Shortly after, Hawkins and my mom entered the room discussing the art on the hospital’s walls of all things. When he took a moment to see if I was okay, I understood that he was keeping her distracted on purpose.

             
“You know how Van Gogh
really
lost that ear, right?
he
asked my mom.

             
“Wasn’t he mentally ill?”

             
“No, he lost it in a fight over a girl with Paul Gauguin.”

             
“
Really
?”

             
“Yeah, so he’s just as mental as I am,” Hawkins laughed darkly as if implying he’d liked to have done the same thing to Vance. 

             
A nurse followed in after them with my release papers, and then reiterated everything my doctor had said about the antibiotic ointment for my back. She finally unhooked the IV from the back of my hand and told me that I could get dressed again.

             
“I’ll go pull the car around,” my mom offered.

             
“Be careful,” Hawkins called after her. “The paparazzi are out there.”

Groaning, I asked why they couldn’t they give us a moment of peace? Then I got up and pulled out the bag of clothes that Hawkins had packed for me, but I slowly started to freak out when I realized he had only packed my usual white tank top and pink rolled up sweatpants.

“Oh no, no, no…”

“Joie,” he reached a hand down to gently lift my chin until our eyes were leveled with each other. “I don’t know what made you think you had to change your look, but I hope it wasn’t for me, because I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than when
you’re
in
these
clothes.” 

             
“But Gwyneth?”

             
“I’m not with Gwyneth.”

             
Pressing my lips together, I tried my hardest to hold back the lopsided grin that desperately wanted to form on my face.

             
“I’ll just let you get dressed then,” he cracked a smile.

             
“Okay,” I nodded as I watched the back of him leave.

             
Grabbing up my sweats, I hugged them and thought,
God—I’ve missed you
.  

             
I didn’t think I fully understood how much Hawkins had missed seeing me in my white tank and pink sweats, because minutes later when the paparazzi had swarmed around us outside, he pulled me in for a long, passionate, overdue kiss.

C
hapter
Eighteen

The band cancelled the next couple tour dates. Warren went back to Canada to be with his family while they got the fun
eral ready. Hawkins and I would be flying up in a few days, but needed to spend some time with just each other. Lizzie went with Warren and was being really supportive, as though she didn’t spend all of her previous energy bringing Gwyneth down. If Warren knew, he hadn’t let on, since he would not let her leave his side. The rest of the band and crew members were flying home to hug their loved ones before going to Vancouver to show their respect. Besides Hawkins and me, the only other two people that stayed with the tour buses were Harlow and Riley. Harlow had made some story about needing to work on some lighting problems and although Riley wished he would have just told everyone the truth, he was thankful when Harlow asked Riley if he would be willing to stay and help.

The FBI made sure that Gwyneth’s death was on every national news station so that the terrorists would think that Gwyneth died with the microchip still on her. The terrorists took responsibility for the bombing, but didn’t seem too upset that only
she
died in the explosion. Nevertheless, I knew whenever anyone spoke of
Gweniverie
Warren,
they would only speak of the hero that she was and how she saved many thousands of American lives by taking her own.

“Joie, your mom’s been trying to reach you on your cell,” Hawkins explained bringing my focus back to him on his tour bus. 

“Oh, thanks,” I took the phone from him and began to dial her number because I knew it took a lot of effort for her to just text something on her ancient cell phone. That didn’t stop her from trying though since we had kept in touch like how I had promised we would. 

“Hello?”

“Hey mom, you wanted to talk to me?”

“I don’t know how to thank him,” her voice was shaking with emotion.

“Who mom?”

“Hawkins, I don’t know how to thank him for what he did. You know this whole time, I thought you were making a mistake but after meeting him in person and knowing what he did to help me, I couldn’t have picked a person more perfect for you, than him.”

“I appreciate that mom, I really do,” I said genuinely. “But what did he do?”

“Oh he didn’t tell you yet,” she breathed. “I hope I didn’t ruin the surprise.”

             
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I turned to look in Hawkins’ direction as he leaned against his bedroom doorway exposing his defined bicep muscles, and looking hotter than hell with a raised eyebrow over those smoldering blue eyes.

“Well, I got a call from the bank today. Apparently an
anonymous
source paid off the mortgage on our house.”

For a second I just blinked, because I knew who had really paid it off, but I realized how it must have appeared to my mom because only someone with a
lot
of money could have done it. 

“He did what?!” I suddenly beamed in fake reverie because this couldn’t have turned out better for me.

“I know!” my mom gushed. “I don’t know how to thank him.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him,” I locked eyes with him.

“Please make sure he doesn’t go crazy, I’m not needy.”

“He knows that, mom,” I continued to play it up even if Hawkins continued to look completely confused.

“Love you, honey.”

“Love you too, mom, bye.” My eyes never wavered from Hawkins as I clicked off the phone and tossed it on the kitchen booth. A slow smile formed on his face as I curled my pointer finger. “Come here.”

“What did I do?” he pushed off the wall and walked into my arms. I closed my eyes as I took in the soft scent of his cologne and murmured, “Everything.”

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

We would like to thank our family for all their support and guidance.

Our mom, Becky Spence,
for instilling the love of reading and the encouragement to believe in ourselves.

Our
dad,
Alvan
Spiegel,
for the stories of your childhood, war, and life lessons.

Our
sister Erin
, who is the third pea in our pod.

Our nephew, Charlie McCarthy, who
s
e
witty sense of humo
r plays
a part in all of our
stories.

Our dog
Skippy Jon Jones, for
being much more than just a dog to us.

Geoff
Wolak
, our editor, thank you for making our book
s the best
t
hey
can be.

We
want to thank
all of our
friends
especially
Bethany Phelps,
Leslie Car
penter, Kim Cotter,
Anna Cotter
, Stacy Costner,
Margaret Marriott
,
Sherree
Glover
, and all the new friends we have met on Good Reads ; thank you
for
readi
ng our stories and encouraging us
along the way.

Meet the Authors

L e a h  S p i e g e l
, a graduate of
Edinboro
University, sp
ent her first twenty years draw
ing imaginary worlds and now she writes about them. She is a native of Washington, Pennsylvania but has lived in North Carolina for the last fiv
e years. Check out her upcoming
books on her website:
www.leahspiegel.com
. You can also find her on Twitter and Facebook.

M e g a
n  S
u m
m
e r
s
received her teaching degree from
Edinboro
University and her Masters in Curriculum and I
nstruction with an emphasis in

T
echnology
from Grand Canyon University.
She is a native of Washington, Pennsylvania but has been teaching in Morganton, North Carolina
for the past twelve years.