Tapout

by J.C. Valentine

  Jami huffed impatiently. “I know this. When did she take off?”

  Spencer’s confusion only seemed to grow. “Is this a trick question?”

  Making a disgusted sound, Jami told him, “I’m hitting the shower. Do me a favor and sober up, then kick these freeloaders out and straighten this place up. I don’t want another bill like the last one.” Jami stepped carefully but quickly through the room as he dug his cell phone from his pocket and began dialing. He started the shower as he listened, the ringing in his ear feeling like a knife to his skull. How many drinks did he have last night? Four? He was pretty sure it was four. Or was it five? However many he had, hangovers sucked balls.

  Alyson’s voicemail picked up as Jami dropped his pants on the floor. “Where are you?” He paused, realizing how harsh he sounded. He didn’t like that she had left without saying goodbye, or Christ, letting him drive her home. She better have caught a cab, even though he hated the idea of her in some stranger’s car when he should have been the one to make sure she got home safely. One of these days, he was going to drag her down to the DMV and make her renew her license.

  Pulling in a steadying breath, Jami tried for a calmer approach. “I’m sorry about last night. I should have told you a month ago about the trip, but...” He didn’t really have a good explanation. Bracing his hand on the countertop, Jami studied his reflection in the mirror. He looked jaundiced beneath the florescent lights, and there were shadows under his bloodshot eyes. He looked as shitty as he felt. Turning away, he said into the phone, “Look, I don’t want to do this over the phone. Call me when you get this and… be safe.”

  Alyson hadn’t called or texted by the time Jami was showered and dressed, and he wasn’t willing to wait around to see if she would. Less than an hour later, he was letting himself into her apartment with the spare key she had made just for him. If that didn’t say commitment, he didn’t know what did. Sometimes, it gave him a twisted feeling in his gut, but at times like this, the knowledge that she was putting so much trust and faith into him was enough to lay him out, and it only confirmed what he already knew—that he had made the right choice in making Ally his girl.

  As usual, the apartment was a shambles. Dirty dishes sat on the table in the living room and filled the kitchen sink. An open box of bran flakes sat on the counter next to the stove. A trail of clothes led from the adjoining hallway into the bathroom where a damp towel lay in a ball in the corner. The hair dryer and curling iron—still plugged in—sat next to the sink. Jami took a moment to scoop up the dirty laundry and drop it in the hamper. He unplugged the dryer and the curling iron and wrapped the cords up, then placed them in the cabinet below. It was a wonder Ally hadn’t burned down the whole complex, and he was even more astounded that she hadn’t attracted some kind of vermin yet, but he supposed there was still time for that.

  Her bedroom wasn’t much better, but at least the bed was made. She hadn’t slept here. So, nearest he could figure, she had left the hotel shortly before he woke up, then came back here, had breakfast, and left. Was that before or after he called her?

  He wouldn’t put it past her to leave knowing he would be coming for her. He would always come for her. The day he didn’t, he would be either dead or dying.

  Taking out his phone again, Jami was just about to hit send when he heard the front door open. Abandoning the bedroom, Jami stalked into the living room. Alyson was just kicking off her shoes when she noticed he was there.

  “Oh!” She jumped, nearly dropping the bag in her hands in the process, and then pressed her hand to her chest. “Damn it, Jami, don’t scare me like that.”

  “Wasn’t trying to,” he said calmly as he leaned his shoulder into the wall and watched her pass by him on her way into the kitchen. The rich smell of food trailed after her, making Jami’s stomach rumble.

  Unloading the bags and drink carrier onto the counter, Ally glanced over her shoulder. “What are you doing here anyway?”

  As if she didn’t already know the answer to that. “You were gone when I got up, and you didn’t answer my call.”

  “You called?” Taking her phone out of her purse that was still hanging from her shoulder, she checked her messages. “Huh, I guess you did. Sorry, my phone was turned off.”

  He shrugged as if it didn’t piss him off that she was purposefully shutting him out. “Why didn’t you wake me up before you left? I would have driven you home.”

  Ally cast him a knowing look. “You were up half the night drinking. I figured you could use the rest. Speaking of, you look like you could use something to eat.”

  He didn’t know how rest and eating applied to one another, but she wasn’t acting as if she were mad at him like he had expected. In fact, she was acting as if nothing was wrong at all, which put him on alert. Whenever they had a problem, they hashed it out, plain and simple. He approached with caution. “I guess I could use something, you know, to soak up the alcohol.”

  She handed him a cup. “Here, have some coffee while I get breakfast ready.”

  And by that, she clearly meant taking the readymade breakfast from each of its four containers and arranging it onto a plate. But he wasn’t complaining. Already the coffee was hitting the spot, taking him from feeling like a dried out husk ready to collapse to being able to process coherent thoughts without his head throbbing. As she moved around the kitchen, Ally rambled on about how she knew he would be coming over once he realized she was gone, and she knew he would be nursing a hell of a hangover. Wanting to be prepared, she’d gone straight from the hotel to her apartment to shower, and then to a little diner they’d been to several times before, and picked up a few items. Moments later, a plate piled high with eggs, bacon, two kinds of sausage, hash browns, and pancakes drowning in syrup and butter was slid in front of him.

  “I heard somewhere that fatty foods help, so…” She waved her hand at the plate. “I got everything.” She dropped down in the chair next to his, setting a plate with a quarter the amount of food down in front of her. Glancing at the still open box of cereal an arm’s reach away, Jami realized that the breakfast mess he’d encountered earlier had been sitting out for longer than he’d realized. He shook his head amusedly, choosing to keep his thoughts to himself.

  The first bite was a flavor explosion, and it went straight to his stomach, easing the uneasy feeling. By the time he’d finished the pile of eggs, he was feeling halfway human again. With a grateful smile, Jami grabbed the leg of Ally’s chair and dragged her over until the entire left side of her body was flush with his, then leaned over and kissed her. She tasted of mint toothpaste and sweet maple syrup, and he couldn’t resist dashing his tongue inside her mouth for a quick taste. When he pulled away, he noted the dreamy look on her face and a pleased smile formed. “Thank you,” he said softly, and then dug into the rest of his breakfast like a man starving.

  They ate in comfortable silence. When they finished, Jami collected their plates and took them to the sink. “You do realize this apartment came with a dishwasher, right?” he teased.

  “Yes,” Ally said as she left the table. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing the side of her face against his back. He loved when she did that. It felt good to know she wanted him. Every touch was a soothing balm that calmed him as much as it excited him.

  Jami twisted back and forth, as he rinsed the dishes and set them in the dishwasher. “And you don’t use it because…?”

  “I do use it,” Ally said. “When I need a clean dish, I open it and take one out.”

  “And what about the dirty dishes?”

  He could feel her smiling. “Easy, you take care of those.”

  Jami shook his head and continued placing the dishes in the rack. “Is that all I’m good for? Making sure you have clean dishes?” With the last dish, he started the wash, and then turned to take her into his arms.

  Tilting her head back, Ally looked up at him. “I can think of a couple other things.”

 
His lips tilting up, Jami pecked her on the mouth. Then, because it just didn’t feel right to be so happy and carefree, Jami asked, “Are we going to talk about this?”

  With a heavy sigh, Ally pulled out of his arms and began placing the empty food containers into the garbage. “I’ve been thinking about it all morning, and I don’t want to waste time fighting with you. Can’t we just let it go and enjoy our last couple of days together?”

  He appreciated her attempt at keeping the peace, but Jami hated leaving things unsaid. “I would if I didn’t already know how much it bothers you that I’m leaving.”

  “It’s not the leaving that’s bothering me,” Ally corrected him as he followed her into the living room. “It’s that you knew it was coming and didn’t tell me. This is something that takes time to prepare for.”

  He knew that wasn’t the only thing that was upsetting her, so Jami prompted her to continue. “And…”

  “And you didn’t ask me to come with you.”

  “And…”

  She looked away her eyes shining for a moment before she blinked them clear again. “And I don’t want you to go, okay? I know it’s your job, and I always knew this was coming, but I just didn’t expect it to feel… like this.” She shrugged, words failing her.

  Jami tilted his head, studying her. Ally sat calmly at the end of the couch, but her chest rose and fell heavily, giving away just how upset she really was. She refused to look at him, instead staring down at her hands in her lap. Reaching out, Jami grasped her wrist and tugged her until she came to him willingly. Curling up against his side, she accepted the comfort he needed to give her. “I’ll only be gone a few days, a week at the most.”

  She sniffed, and Jami tightened his arms around her, forming a circle of protection, even though he was the one hurting her. “Why can’t I go with you?”

  Closing his eyes, Jami searched for an answer that wouldn’t upset her, but the only one he had he’d already used and she had seen right through the lie. Don didn’t like her. Jami had tried to talk to him, but when it came down to it, Don didn’t like having her around. He thought she was a distraction, that she would bring him down in the end and that if push came to shove, Jami would give up everything for her. He wanted to say he was wrong, but he couldn’t. Jami loved fighting, he loved Don, and he loved Ally. He wanted everything to work, but it wasn’t, and he hadn’t yet figured out how to make it. So, he chose to keep things as low key and separated as possible until he could find a solution to the problem. Don didn’t want Ally to come with them on this trip. Jami had argued with him, but in the end, he let Don have his way. Ally wasn’t the distraction Don thought she was. If anything, it was the animosity between two of the people he cared about most that was the distraction. So he was buying himself some time. Next time, Ally would come, but this time, he was choosing peace.

  Jami didn’t have an easy answer to give her. Kissing the top of her head, he said, “I’ll be back before you can even miss me.”

  “I doubt that,” Ally whispered.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked, already knowing what her answer would be.

  “Because I miss you already.”

  FOUR

  When one domino falls, the rest come crashing down along with it. First, Jami told her he was leaving. That was enough bad news to last her a lifetime, but then that morning, she’d woken up to an ocean of water in her bathroom. Apparently, someone had left the water running in the apartment above hers, creating a huge mess, and adding to her already foul mood. She’d had to wash up the old fashioned way with a rag in the middle of the kitchen floor. Jami thought it was hilarious. She wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t laughing when Jami told her to pack her bags because she would be staying with him at Don’s house until the damage was fixed, either. But that only gave her two days, because she refused to stay alone in that house, so she was going to have to make some other arrangements. Hopefully, Olivia would be open to having a roommate for a couple weeks. As if her day wasn’t already in the toilet, she was being called into her supervisor’s office.

  Hovering in the doorway, Alyson announced herself. “You wanted to see me?”

  Mallory looked up from a stack of paperwork and motioned her in. She waited for Alyson to sit down before speaking, but the grim expression she wore made Alyson uneasy. Shuffling through a stack of files, she pulled a few out and laid them in front of her. “I had a chance to look over your reports, and I needed to ask you a couple of follow up questions. Do you have a minute?”

  Clearly, she did. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be sitting there, but Alyson kept her thoughts to herself and nodded.

  “Good.” Pushing her dark-rimmed glasses higher on her nose, she opened up the top folder and scanned through the pages inside. “The Michaels case. You noted here that the mother and son are currently living with a friend?”

  Alyson’s heart began to beat a little faster—the curse of having a guilty conscience—but she told herself that this was routine, nothing to worry about. “Yes.”

  “And you say here that they were living in our halfway house for…” —she flipped a few pages and skimmed down with her finger— “a couple of weeks?”

  “Uh-huh.” A jittery feeling, like when she hadn’t had enough coffee, or too much, settled over Alyson, and she fidgeted with the edge of her blouse.

  “I recall there was a fire there,” Mallory stated. “There’s no mention here that the Michaels transferred to the new house with the rest of the families.”

  “They found a relative to stay with instead,” Alyson said as she sat up straighter. “It’s in the file.” She kept telling herself to stay calm, but Mallory’s questions felt more like accusations for some reason. It had to be her guilty conscious getting the better of her.

  “Oh, yes, here it is.” With her pen, Mallory made a small note in the margin. “No address?”

  “Mrs. Michaels didn’t give me one, no.” There wasn’t enough air in the room, and the heat blowing through the ducts was causing her to sweat.

  “But she kept in contact with you?”

  “I gave her my business card. She checked in with me weekly.”

  “And did you visit with the Michaels at any time?”

  Again, this was feeling like much more than a simple review. Alyson felt like there was more to this line of questioning, and the longer she sat there, the faster her heart raced. “A few times, yes.”

  Mallory made another note. “Did you provide any monetary support of any kind?”

  “Monetary? No. I did bring them some toiletries, but I do that for all of my clients.”

  After making a few more notes, Mallory set her pen aside and leaned back in her chair. Her dark glasses magnified her already large blue eyes, making her assessment of her all the more nerve-racking. “I’ll be honest with you, Alyson. We’ve received some information regarding your involvement in the Michaels’ case that is very concerning, and while I’m sure there is no basis of truth to it, protocol requires that we open an investigation.”

  Shit. Shitshitshitshit. Alyson swallowed tightly, trying to keep from leaping from her chair, or screaming, or maybe crying. How could this be happening? She’d been careful. She wanted to defend herself, but she didn’t trust her voice.

  “I understand how upsetting this may be for you, but I’m sure the accusations are unfounded.” Mallory passed her a reassuring smile. “I may have a few more questions for you as I continue to look into this, but I don’t want you to worry about it. Just keep working and let me handle the heavy lifting. I’ll let you know if I need anything else from you.”

  Effectively dismissed, Alyson nodded again and stood. “Thank you, Mallory. I appreciate it, and if there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

  She realized how stupid she sounded the minute the words left her mouth, but she turned and left the office, eager to get out of there. An investigation? The Michaels? Had someone found out that they were staying with her and turned her in? If so, th
ere were only two other people she knew of that had access to that kind of information. Jami and Tony Michaels. Only one of them had anything to gain by getting her into trouble.

  And his wish just might come true.

  ***

  The heartbreaking strains of Brand New flowed through the stereo. As she lay pressed against Jami’s side with her ear pressed over his chest, Alyson tried to ignore Mallory’s words. She was under investigation. She’d thought long and hard about it, and she knew without a doubt that Tony was behind it. After their encounter with him on the night Jami fought the ‘Iron Fist,’ he hadn’t tried to contact them again. He just disappeared from their lives as quickly as he’d come in. She should have known he was up to something sinister.

  “If you could go anywhere, where would you go?” Jami’s question came out of nowhere and took Alyson off guard. His fingers traced down her spine making lazy patterns as she considered how to answer him. She’d never left Columbus, so she wasn’t very knowledgeable about other places or what they had to offer. The idea of leaving the state was both terrifying and thrilling.

  “Some place quiet. Away from everything and everyone,” she answered candidly. If she could leave everything behind—all her worries, all the stress—she would do it in a snap.

  Jami shifted to look at her. “Even me?”

  Alyson leaned up and pressed her mouth to his. “No. You’re the exception to the rule. I want you with me everywhere I go, always.”

  With a satisfied smile, Jami returned to studying the ceiling. Finding the hand she had rested on top of his stomach, he twined their fingers together. “Ditto.”