by C J Marie
Chapter 20
Zac met Jo’s eye, then the other guy, then back to Jo. He took a step back in the hallway as he tried to swallow the dryness in his throat.
“This was a bad idea.” He turned to leave.
“Zac, wait.”
He paused and glanced at Jo, who stood half out of the doorway. He knew this was Doctor Douche, and when he stomped forward it reminded Zac exactly why he’d come. Zac swallowed the knot in his throat and stepped into her doorway. “You can’t be with this guy.”
“Excuse me? Who do you think you are?” the bad doctor said. “Wait, is this the guy who pressed charges? What is this, Jo?”
“Go away, Emmitt,” Jo snapped as she turned toward Zac. “Not that it’s any of your business who I see romantically, Zachariah, but I already know I can’t be with him.”
Zac ignored the way Emmitt crossed his arms and looked ready to kill him, and stepped squarely in front of Jo. “I mean it, he’s not good—wait…you know?”
Relief flooded his system like cool drink in the heat of summer.
Jo rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “What are you doing here, Zac?”
“I think we’d all like to know.” Emmitt puffed out his chest like he was ready to start a cock fight. Zac glared at the guy, and curled his fists at his sides. He wasn’t much of a fighter, but he could hold his own.
“Stop it,” Jo said and shoved Emmitt’s shoulder. “Emmitt, go. You’ve got a lawyer to call. Don’t come back.”
“Not until I know what this guy is doing coming here. I’m not sure you’re safe, Jo. Seems like he’s stalking you.”
Zac shoved between Emmitt and Jo so he could look at her, and so he didn’t hit the guy in the jaw. “I need to talk with you.”
“So talk,” she said.
Zac’s fingertips tingled as his eyes darted to where Emmitt was smoldering at his back. “Alone.”
“No, you can say anything you have to say right here,” Emmitt snapped. “I’m starting to think a few things happened down there that maybe you weren’t open about, Josephine. Seems like I wasn’t the only one who had a fling.”
“Do you mind?” Zac asked with a fierce tone that seemed to startle Jo, but she didn’t meet his eye.
Emmitt chuckled and shook his head. “Not at all. Go ahead.”
“Go away, Emmitt.”
“I’m on this lease too, Jo.”
“Yeah? Well you can have it back when I’m done with it, if you can still afford it, I mean.”
Zac lifted a brow at her tone. She seemed ready to tear out the guy’s throat. Emmitt stared at him with a dark level of hatred before he stormed down the hallway, kicking the wall halfway down. Zac dragged in a deep breath, and slowly faced her. Had she always been so beautiful? Her hair was falling in wisps around her face, and she looked like the morning after they’d spent their first night together with the sweatshirt bulky over her athletic frame.
“How did you know where I lived?”
She’s talking. Zac cleared his throat and took a step closer. “Well, Judge McKinnon had all the information—my mom finally agreed to a date.”
It seemed like Jo was trying to hold back a smile by the way her cheeks flinched, but her eyes narrowed like jagged steel shards. “What are you doing here?”
“I, uh…wanted to see you.”
Jo scoffed. She was angry. Really? Zac had conjured up how this moment would go through the entire flight. She’d be shocked, then tear up, then fling her arms around his neck and drag him to bed. His male fantasy bubble was about to be popped.
“Wanted to see me? Well, you saw me.” She tried to close the door.
“Jo, wait.”
“What, Zachariah? I’ve had it up to here with men today. Last I checked, you ended things with me, and wouldn’t try and make things work with me. I’m tired, and I have a lot on my mind.”
“It wouldn’t be hard,” he said quickly.
Jo peered through the gap in the door, her mouth softening. “What wouldn’t be hard?”
Zac leaned against the doorframe and inched his face closer until he could see the soft purple light in her eyes. “You asked me if I’d follow you, and I told you it would be a lot to ask, that it would be hard. It wouldn’t. I came to tell you I shouldn’t have let you walk out that door. What’s hard is going on…without you.”
Moments when silence was so thick he could taste the awkwardness building caused his palms to sweat and his pulse to race. Jo stared at him, her eyes glassy, her chin crinkled against emotion. With a heavy gasp, Jo glanced at the carpet. “Zac, I would never ask you to do that.”
“But—”
“It means a lot that you would,” she admitted softly. “I just…I don’t know right now. About anything.”
Zac took a step closer. Orchids and fresh breeze ignited his senses when he breathed in her smooth skin. “Jo, I came all this way so you could see that I meant it.”
“Is that the only reason you came? To make a point?”
Zac swallowed hard enough it scratched his throat. Nothing was coming out right. “No, I love you, Jo. I want to be with you.”
She blinked furiously, but her smile broke a little piece of his hope. “As you said, Zac, sometimes it’s not enough.” What was happening? His man-fantasy was crumbling—no catching fire and burning to ashes—right before his eyes. Jo wiped away a tear and sniffed as she backed further into her apartment. “I have some things to work out before I can…do this.”
“Jo—”
“Please, Zac. I need to be alone. Please.”
Her voice was breaking, and it felt as if his chest were splitting in two. Zac stepped back out of the frame, and slowly stood by as she closed the door. Alone. He’d come here alone, with hope. Now, he’d leave Boston alone, with nothing more than a hole in his chest.
“I’ll be in tomorrow,” Zac said as he rested his forehead in one hand. He’d been fortunate to squeeze onto a red eye, but it seemed wrong in so many ways.
Rafe was quiet for a few seconds before clearing his throat. “Sounds good.”
One thing Zac appreciated between his friends was their ability not to pry when it wasn’t the time to pry. Olive would offer a sad sigh, Dot would hug him, Jace would bring him cookies, but at least for now he could wallow without anyone digging the ache out in the open. He disconnected, and turned his attention back to the lined paper from the small notebook he’d purchased at a convenient store down the street. The lobby of Jo’s apartment building was nice. Tiled floors had veins of gold to make it look like real marble. Potted ferns added a fresh scent in the open space and the elevator doors were gold. Nicer than his two-bedroom house that had an infestation of gnats every summer. He’d hoped she’d consider him, but seeing the secure, comfortable life she’d left behind, why would Jo choose him?
Zac wasn’t a man of the written word, but he’d seen a few letters his dad had written for his mom, usually for their anniversaries or her birthday, but now those letters were his mother’s most cherished possessions. What could it hurt? She could toss it out before reading the note, that would hurt, but he wouldn’t know since he was leaving.
“Turned you out too?”
Zac’s blood turned to ice when he slowly glanced over his shoulder. Emmitt stood with a few pieces of mail in his hands. The guy wasn’t bulky, but seemed strong enough. He was slicked, polished, an idiot, but still a guy in a different realm than Zac.
“Seems that way,” Zac said.
Emmitt chuckled, and plopped into the leather lobby chair next to Zac. “So, Zac, right? I’ve got to say, I’m a little surprised seeing some guy showing up at my apartment, like he’s chasing my girlfriend. What gave you the right to go after a taken women?”
“I’d say when you cheated on her and she broke up with you.” Emmitt’s face tightened, and Zac couldn’t help but laugh. “Surprised she said anything about that?”
“Leave her alone. We’re working things out.”
“Sounded li
ke it.”
“Jo is emotional, and now it’s obvious why. You did something to her, hurt her, or whatever. She isn’t thinking straight, but she will. She always does.”
Zac shook his head and folded the letter. “I’m not here to mess with Jo, and you know what, you’re right. I did hurt her. I’m man enough to admit when I screwed up.” He pushed off his knees and stood, glancing at Emmitt who watched him with eyes that smoldered like burning embers. “Maybe you aren’t lying and you’re trying to work it out with her, I doubt it, but if you are—she deserves better than what you’ve given her. Either be a man and respect her, or maybe you should be the one to leave Jo alone.” Zac swallowed and pointed toward the elevators as if she stood there in the lobby. “She started out as a thorn in my side, but became the most important person in my life. You should know, I’m going to make sure she knows that before I leave. What she does with that will be up to her.”
He tapped the back of the chair and stalked toward the elevators leaving Doctor Emmitt with a stunned expression on his face. Before the doors closed on his face, Zac smiled when Emmitt stood and stalked out of the building instead of following. Hopefully, he’d stay out. Glancing at his watch, Zac sighed as he crouched in front of Jo’s apartment door. There was a welcome mat out in the hallway. Carefully, he slid half the letter beneath the mat, checking once to make sure it was positioned so she’d see it, and with agonizing weight crushing his shoulders, Zac left.
***
Gray light cascaded across her ceiling from the open curtains like a cool river of dawn. Jo stared at the lines in the spackle. Her eyes burned as if she’d been staring all night. Maybe she had been. Across her chest lay the crinkled paper with Zac’s small handwriting. Each word seemed carefully selected, and as she’d read his final appeal, it was almost as though Zac Dawson had been sitting in the front room. Seeing him had uncoupled all her resolve to accept he wasn’t a part of her life anymore. He’d come when her head had been spinning in confusion, anger, and a bit of hopelessness. Perhaps if Zac had come to Boston today, or tomorrow, a week from now, the meeting might have been different.
She’d almost called, but didn’t. Before Jo did anything, she wanted to be certain she was finally taking steps forward because it was the right step; the step she wanted to take.
She’d called in some of her numerous sick days, stayed home yesterday and today, and the sinking weight in the center of her gut made it hard to imagine going back to that place ever again.
Jo swiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I wish you were here, Dad.”
She tried to imagine what he would do. There would be ice cream involved. Her dad would curse Zac for hurting her heart, then make a list with her. Russell Graham had been notorious for pros and cons lists. He’d allow her one or two cons—if he knew what a wonderful man Zac was—then go on about his positive qualities even after Jo stopped. Her dad would toss in eccentric ones, like his eyebrows were impeccable, or he didn’t blow his nose in public. She chuckled and nuzzled her face in her pillow as a calming warmth tickled her skin. Almost as if her father were wrapping her tight in his arms that very instant.
Her phone buzzed. The glow of the screen brightening the room. She rolled her eyes when the fourth text from Emmitt’s dad was again filled with lengthy appeals and borderline threats about the ridiculous accusations on his son’s motives. Jo’s lungs burned when she gathered a deep breath, and finally shot a reply.
Any legal questions regarding how I use my inheritance can now be taken up with my attorney. Please don’t contact me again.
She grinned after pressing send before she could lose the nerve. Jo had always found Emmitt’s father arrogant and sarcastic to the point his words cut at times, but she found a certain satisfaction standing up to the man—even over text message.
She read the first few lines of Zac’s letter again. Then the last few lines. Then everything until she forced herself to shower. Jo slurped coffee at her small table. Boxes filled with Emmitt’s clothes stacked at the door. He was coming on his lunch to get them, and she’d make certain she was scarce. For years, Jo had never allowed herself pause enough to process her heart. Looking back, she could see moments where she’d built the defenses that kept her from feeling too much. When her father was spiraling, she kept a stiff upper lip through exams and classes to avoid crumbling at the thought her hero was losing himself. When Emmitt pushed her in the direction he wanted her to go, she nodded, buried the pull to do anything different, and kept going forward.
Now, lounging in her hollow apartment, she carried the sincere words of a man who never fit into any of her careful plans. Fleece socks hugged her feet. A bun, messy and untamed, topped her head. Jo felt and embraced the surge of emotions like a welcome friend as she studied financials from Mr. Albertson’s office. It seemed as if she were standing at a precipice, staring over the edge, and all she needed to do was leap. The idea was risky, but through the few days since Emmitt’s forgery had come to light she’d hardly been able to think of anything else.
As the sun faded over the city, the space near the door was empty, and Jo was at least wearing a bra and her hair was straightened and styled. More boxes stacked against the wall of her bedroom. Flameless candles flickered on a shelf above her bed, and the only other light spilled through her window from outside streetlamps. This was insane, she hadn’t had a confirmation yet, but something inside pounded her head and heart in one firm agreement. She’d decided for herself. And it felt amazing and so right.
She ruffled through two stacks of blouses—one to keep, one to donate—when her phone rang. The sound seemed shriller amongst all the silence she’d grown accustomed to. Taking a deep breath—this was the moment of truth.
Jo smiled as she answered. She’d always believed people could hear a smile through the phone. “Dot, it’s good to hear from you.”
“Mylanta, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear your voice again. I saw you wanted me to call, and as soon as I got off work, well—I’m calling you.”
“Yes, I wasn’t sure if you got my message.”
“So what’s all this about? Want me to spill about how Zac’s moping all over the place?”
Jo paused and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “No, this isn’t about him, not completely.”
Dot sighed with a flare of theatrics. “That’s too bad. He’s a good one Jo, and seems pretty torn up. The grapevine said he got in last night and wasn’t a glass of cheer this morning.”
“The grapevine meaning Rafe to Olive and Olive to you.”
“Again, you understand the system.”
Jo bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m glad he made it back okay. We’ll talk about Zac in a second, but I needed to talk to you about something else.”
“I’m intrigued.”
“This is more on a professional note.”
“Really? Like do you need my folks in these professional talks, because you realize I work for them.”
Jo grinned. “Yes, this might be something your parents would want to know.”
Chapter 21
His mom and uncle asked him to stay longer, but everywhere seemed to suffocate the air from his lungs. Even Sunday dinner. He despised how everyone looked at him like a kicked puppy about to break. Even if it was well-intended. He’d broken up with women before, but his friends’ and his family’s reactions solidified that Jo had been different. She’d been real.
It was over.
The sooner he started accepting the truth, the sooner he could move on. Except the ache was so palpable he felt like he might be on the brink of vomiting all the time. Time would heal it, he knew in his mind, time soothed wounds. Hanging on until time had her chance was the hard part.
The day was humid, and his shirt stuck to his body the moment he stepped out of his car. Beams of sunlight broke through the gaps in the towering oak branches, and Zac felt a slight bit of weight off his shoulders lift. He didn’t take his place at the massive oak tree, instead he
strolled around the picnic tables and stopped at a Gullah Geechee woman weaving baskets and plates near the gift shop to sell to tourists. He studied a small basket his mom would appreciate, and paid with the change he still had in his wallet from his quick trip to Boston. He’d tossed the notebook he’d purchased to write the letter because it hadn’t seemed to make a difference. There’d been a risk, but Zac couldn’t help but hope she’d at least call him.
He’d done a lot of visiting to Angel Oak since Jo left. The swooping limbs and full leaves helped him forget for a moment, like a spell of peace was cast the moment he stepped onto the site. Tourists filtered in and out, most maintaining the quiet awe of the place. A few people who seemed local came to picnic, and one by one all spectators left only to add more until the sun started to drift lower in the sky.
Zac thumbed his car keys between his fingers and leaned forward onto his knees. His back ached from sitting on the bench for so long, but his body seemed too fatigued to move. Closing his eyes, he thought of her brilliant eyes once more before determining he would make valiant attempts to let her go.
“Is this seat taken?”
Adrenaline was a funny thing. The way it caused insides to swirl like soup in a pot, but this feeling was something else. Agonizing and pleasant all at once. His heart hammered until it felt as if his chest was bruising, and the damp moisture across his skin chilled even if the air was sweltering. Zac looked over his shoulder, and the sensation started over in a repeat cycle. Jo smiled, her hands clasped in front, her hair tied off her neck.
“Jo,” he said softly as he stood from the bench.
She took a few cautious steps toward him. “I thought I’d find you here.”
Zac tried to smile, but he was pretty sure his body was in shock, so it was more like a grimace. “Out of all the places in Charleston I could have been, you picked this place.”