French Quarter

by Lacey Alexander

  “But nothing, damn it. I want you here. Want you with me.”

  His dark eyes shone so sincere. He wanted her with him. Didn’t that say it all, wasn’t it what she wanted so desperately to hear? She was still so afraid of getting hurt, and moving in with him had somehow come to represent that total surrender, the final act of putting herself out there, at risk, but in that early morning moment of weakness, she could no longer turn him down. “Okay,” she said, letting out a breath, realizing she was really doing this, really accepting his invitation. “Yes, okay.”

  Lifting one hand to her cheek, he lowered his mouth on hers, kissing her long and hard and passionately. Then he whispered, “I never want you to be afraid of anything again.”

  * * * * *

  As Jack ate a sandwich at his desk that day, working through lunch, he felt more at ease than he had in a week. He couldn’t deny the reason why, which was two-fold. Liz was going to move in with him, which meant Todd could no longer bother her. And it also meant that this woman he’d fallen for so quickly and completely was coming into his life in a whole new way. Dare he think a permanent way? That was probably too far ahead to be thinking, so for now he’d just be happy with what he had—Liz in his apartment, his bed, full time. He’d wake up with her in the morning and go to sleep with her at night. They’d eat together, shower together…hell, just be together.

  Wadding the deli wrappings and tossing them to the garbage can beside his desk, he turned his attention back to his work. He had some surveillance videos to look through, and even fast forwarding through them when nothing important was happening still took a lot of time—and he wanted to get through them all as quickly as possible and get home early today. He intended to show up at Lynda’s house with a bunch of empty boxes and get Liz out of there and into his bed tonight.

  * * * * *

  Liz called in sick for work. She’d driven home in a pair of Jack’s gym shorts and one of his T-shirts with every intention of changing into a suit and making her way to the ad agency, but by the time she’d showered, she realized that if she was really going to move in with Jack, she needed to just do it, today.

  For one thing, if she had all day at work to dwell on her decision, she might talk herself out of it. And even if it was scary as hell, she didn’t want to change her mind. She realized now that she wanted desperately, madly, to live with her lover, to give him a chance to fall as deeply in love with her as she was with him. Maybe, despite all her fears, she had a chance at real happiness with a man who truly understood her and accepted her and encouraged her to be her own woman.

  The very idea of living with him filled her with crazy naïve schoolgirl wishes. She wanted to see him all the time, wanted to cook for him, wanted even to do inane things like fold his socks and underwear for him. She just wanted to delve as deeply into him as he would allow her to, and if she was going to do this, she had to do it the way she’d done everything else the last week or so—she had to go for it completely.

  That led to the other reason for skipping work today. She could go to Todd’s while he was at the office, gather more of her things, and start moving stuff into Jack’s place before he even got home tonight. He’d already given her a key, and he always said he loved her surprises, so she hoped he’d love this one, too. She wanted to be there waiting for him when he walked in the door after a long day of investigating. She thought she’d greet him in a baby doll nightie with a glass of wine. As exciting as last night had been, now the idea of just making love to him at home, alone, sounded perfect to her.

  Dressed in shorts and a tank top suitable to the hot day of hard work that lay ahead, she’d gathered a few boxes from Lynda’s garage, then ate an early lunch before getting to work, since she didn’t want to be interrupted once she started the business of moving.

  Now she made her way around the hedges to the house she used to share with Todd. She still had her key, so she only needed to gather her stuff and go. There would still be big things, like furniture, but she could take the smaller things she’d contributed to their household: her CDs, her books, some new sheets she’d bought but not yet opened, the small painting she’d bought in Paris when she’d vacationed there with girlfriends during college. They weren’t things she needed this very minute, but they were things she wanted. Things which, once she had them back in her possession, would help her feel less and less connected with Todd and the farce of a life they’d shared.

  Stepping in the front door, she noticed how things had been let go in her absence. The floors hadn’t been swept or vacuumed, fast food wrappers and white napkins lay strewn across the coffee table. Even the couch cushions seemed in disarray.

  But none of that was her problem—it only made her even more eager to get her belongings out of there.

  Taking one of the boxes to the bookshelves in the corner, she began methodically scanning the shelves and retrieving the volumes that were hers. The stereo set next to the bookcase, so after closing up a box of books, she reached behind her for another box and repeated the process, finding the CDs she’d brought into the relationship, and loading them neatly inside. After kneeling over it to close it up, she got to her feet, ready to head upstairs. That’s when she saw Todd sitting in a wingback chair by the window.

  She flinched—damn it! He was just sitting there watching her. For how long? “What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped.

  He tilted his head smugly. “I live here.”

  “Why aren’t you at work?”

  “I called in sick.”

  She let out a sigh. What were the chances? “You look fine to me.”

  “Well, I’m not. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m heartbroken.”

  She drew a deep breath, then let it back out. Be calm. He seemed a little more normal today. Snotty, but not crazy. “I’m sorry about that, and sorry to have burst in on you. I’ll just take my things and go.”

  He glanced at the boxes she’d filled. “Really, Elizabeth, you could have called. I’m not going to hold your books for ransom or anything.”

  She pursed her lips. “Well, given the way you’ve reacted to this whole thing, I wasn’t sure.”

  He actually smiled. “Need help carrying them over to Lynda’s? Books are heavy. I’m happy to help.”

  She didn’t know quite what to think. Was it possible Jack had actually gotten through to him the other night, that he was really going to leave her alone now? Was it possible he was being sincere, trying to end things on a civil note? She wanted to believe that, but in her heart, she couldn’t quite take that step. “Thanks anyway,” she said, “but I can carry them.” She picked up the CD box and headed for the door. She’d half-expected him to follow her or detain her somehow, but when she stopped to look back, he still sat comfortably in the chair. “And just so you know, I won’t be next door anymore.” She wanted to make sure he wouldn’t bother Lynda—the last thing she wanted was to heap trouble or danger on her friend.

  “Where are you moving?”

  She sighed. “What difference does it make?”

  He pierced her with his suspicious gaze. “I bet I know. I bet you’re moving in with that Neanderthal of yours.” When she didn’t reply, he lifted his hand to his chin, stroking an imaginary beard. “Now that troubles me.”

  She simply turned back to the door, murmured, “Sorry to hear that,” shifted the box to one hip, and reached down for the knob.

  “I don’t want you living with that guy.”

  The smart thing would be to ignore him, just keep going. Yet somehow she couldn’t. She was so tired of letting him push her around. He’d been doing it since they’d met and now that she’d started fighting back, she couldn’t seem not to. “Well, where I live is really none of your business anymore.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe not, but I’d advise against moving in with him.”

  She blinked, wondering what the hell he had up his sleeve. “Oh?”

  “I know some things about your Neanderthal man.”
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br />   She didn’t reply, simply stood there by the door, waiting for him to go on.

  “I know things like where he works, where he lives.”

  She let out a disgusted sigh. She had no idea whether he was telling the truth or not, whether it was even possible for him to know, but… “What are you getting at?”

  “Do you know, Elizabeth, that a guy can learn how to do practically anything these days on the Internet?”

  What on earth was he talking about? She was about to give up finding out and had just reached for the doorknob once more when he said, “Do you know that a person can find out how to make a simple bomb with just a few clicks of the mouse?”

  Liz felt all the blood drain from her cheeks. She finally lowered the heavy box to the hardwood floor. She put her hands on her hips and tried to sound stronger than she felt. “What the fuck are you talking about, Todd? Spit it out. Exactly what are you trying to say?”

  He made a tsking sound. “Such language. Maybe you aren’t my perfect little wife, after all.”

  “About time you got that message.”

  He simply chuckled. “I didn’t mean that. I can forgive the occasional slip, darling, unlike you. But either way, whether or not you and I get back together right now, I don’t want you living with that guy. And if you do move in with him, Elizabeth, I promise you’ll regret it. Or, I should say, he will. And I’ll know if you do it—trust me, I’ll know.”

  Liz simply stared at him. To think she’d been foolish enough to believe he’d been acting reasonable there for a few minutes. God, he was truly psychotic. As that and his threat against Jack began to sink thoroughly into her skin, she knew she had to get out of there—now. She couldn’t stand being in Todd’s presence for one more minute. She opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, then hurried across the yard toward Lynda’s with the box in her arms, no longer caring if she got the rest of her stuff back, ever. She just wanted Todd out of her life.

  Letting herself into Lynda’s, she dropped the box just inside the door and turned the lock, then plopped onto the couch. She’d been so close, so close to really having him out of her life. She’d thought by day’s end she’d be moved into Jack’s, where a wonderful new existence of happiness and acceptance and freedom could begin. Now what was she supposed to do?

  Leaning her head back against the sofa, she took a deep breath and tried to think.

  Gathering her courage, she went to the phone and called the police.

  “NOPD,” a woman answered on the second ring.

  Liz’s stomach churned. “I…need help with a problem.”

  “Gonna have to be a little more specific than that, honey.”

  Liz rolled her eyes at own idiocy. Pull yourself together and make some sense. “My ex-fiancé is…making threats against me, and also against my new boyfriend.”

  The woman on the other end took on a kinder, slower tone. “What kind of threats?”

  “Well, he implied that he knew how to make a bomb and said if I moved in with my boyfriend, I’d regret it.”

  “Is that all?”

  All? Wasn’t that enough? “He’s sort of been stalking me, too, but…yeah, the part about the bomb is what’s really scaring me.”

  The policewoman paused. “Does this ex-fiancé of yours have any kind of a record, a history of arrests or tangles with the law?”

  Liz closed her eyes as a rush disappointment swept down through her chest. “No.”

  “Look,” the woman said softly, “if it were up to me, I’d slap this whack job in handcuffs in a New York minute. But, honey, unless you have some proof that this guy’s dangerous, there’s not a lot we can do for you. At best, you might be able to get a restraining order against him.”

  Liz had always heard restraining orders did no good. “What would that do exactly?”

  The policewoman let out a sigh. “It would state that he couldn’t come within so many feet of you, and it should protect you.” Yet then she hesitated, lowered her voice, and spoke in a woman-to-woman tone. “But just between me and you, it’s only a piece of paper. It only counts for something if the jerk violates it, but by then it’s often too late, if you know what I mean.”

  Liz hung up the phone a few minutes later, totally dejected. Weren’t police supposed to keep you safe from bad people? Then again, maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. How many stories had she heard over the years on the news or in the papers about wives and girlfriends who weren’t protected from men who claimed to love them?

  Settling back on the couch, she hugged a throw pillow to her chest and tried to devise her next move.

  But what moves were left her, really? She’d tried to get help from the authorities and had failed.

  And she’d ignored Todd’s lunacy too many times already. She had no idea if he could really make a bomb or if he even knew where Jack lived and worked, for that matter, but any way she looked at it, she couldn’t take the chance that Todd was for real, that he’d make good on the threat. She or Jack or both of them could die, for God’s sake, if Todd was telling the truth.

  And Jack’s safety was simply something she couldn’t risk.

  Which meant she couldn’t move in with him.

  Of course, if she told Jack about Todd’s crazy threat, he’d be all the more determined to get her away from Lynda’s house and into his—to protect her.

  And yet, how could anyone really protect anyone else in this world? Jack might be the strongest, surest man she’d ever known, but how could he really keep either one of them safe if Todd decided to do something crazy? You just couldn’t protect against crazy. She sat shaking her head at the hopelessness of the situation, and thinking how one little conversation with Todd had shattered all her hopes for happiness with Jack.

  * * * * *

  Two hours later, Liz had unpacked her CDs next to Lynda’s stereo, figuring she’d be staying put for at least a little while longer. Maybe even a lot longer. After all, if she moved out of Lynda’s to anyplace else, Todd would likely assume she’d gone to Jack’s. And she certainly couldn’t tell Todd wherever she was going. The whole situation seemed impossible, and while part of her just kept thinking she should ignore it and move in with Jack as planned, another very frightened part kept remembering how each and every time she’d met with Todd since their breakup, he’d seemed more and more out of his mind. No matter how she twisted it, she felt she was at his mercy now and for some time to come.

  Letting out a deep sigh, she put the empty box back in the basement and walked back upstairs, feeling trapped.

  She didn’t even know how she could face Jack, how she could tell him she wasn’t moving in with him, without being prodded into explaining why. And other than her little act in the beginning, she’d always been so honest with him—she wasn’t sure she could lie now.

  Pouring herself a glass of iced tea, she sat down at Lynda’s kitchen table, trying to think through the problem.

  She couldn’t see Jack tonight—that was that. If she did, she’d probably tell him everything and put him at risk. In fact, she couldn’t tell him she wasn’t moving in with him—not in person. She’d crack, she just knew it.

  After draining her glass, she went upstairs to her room and got out her laptop. She and Jack hadn’t had much occasion to e-mail each other, usually opting for the phone when making plans, but she knew his e-mail address and she knew he checked it often, as much of his business communication was accomplished that way.

  Opening the laptop on the dressing table in her room, she keyed in Jack’s e-mail address and began to type.

  * * * * *

  Jack used the remote to turn off the TV he used for scanning videos in his office. He still hadn’t gotten current on them, but he wanted to close up shop and help Liz move her things—and he wanted to leave time for some romance before the evening was through, too. He intended to show her exactly how happy he was to have her moving in with him.

  One last check of e-mail and he’d be out the door.

/>   He clicked on the appropriate button, surprised to see a message from Liz in his inbox. He double-clicked to open it, more than a little curious.

  Jack,

  I’ve decided I can’t move in with you, after all. It’s kind of you to be concerned for my safety, but I’m confident I can take care of myself. This morning you caught me off guard, and later, I realized it was a bad idea.

  I’m also breaking our date tonight. Sorry, but my boss asked me to work late on an overdue pitch for a big client.

  Liz

  Jack read the message over twice, then simply sat staring at the screen.

  He’d been so damn happy this morning when she’d agreed to move in with him and he’d been on top of the world all day. Now, as his heart constricted in his chest, his father’s age-old warning came back to him: Don’t fall for a woman—she’ll only hurt you in the end. Her message was polite—something he thought the old Liz would send—but equally as brisk and short, and he could read between the lines. He’d pushed too far by pressing her to move in with him. She’d realized she didn’t want to be tied down to him that way, didn’t want to go from one committed relationship to another so quickly. She hadn’t even mentioned the future, when they would see each other again, which—as far as Jack knew—might mean she was ready for this to be over, her and him. She was ready to move on.

  Fuck. Talk about hurt. He hadn’t even known hurt like this existed. He’d been right all along—she was having way too much fun to settle down now. If only he’d stuck to his guns and not ever let himself believe anything differently.

  As for the safety issue, he couldn’t help feeling angry at her. Hadn’t Todd proven over and over again what he was capable of? Why was she so thick-headed about this? Didn’t she realize a guy like that was dangerous and that if she didn’t change her situation he was probably going to do her real harm?

  Jack closed his eyes against the vague but ugly picture in his head—Liz, and Todd, and rape. He couldn’t help thinking how horrible it would be to have her burgeoning sexuality crushed by an ugly, violent act—somehow he feared it would affect Liz even more than the average woman; she’d decide it was punishment for the wild things she’d done with Jack and that she should have kept on letting other people dictate her life. The very idea nearly took the breath from his lungs.