Heart in Wire

by R. L. Griffin

  “Wait.” Patrick’s mind was reeling, trying to take in the information. It took him a minute to realize who Kevin was actually talking about. “Jack? You mean Jamie?”

  “There is no more Jamie Rivers, Burns made sure of that.” Kevin looked out the window like an answer was going to float in and solve his problem.

  “So…he’s been on the run,” Patrick confirmed. Liar.

  Kevin nodded. “That’s what they say.”

  “But one of the Crowder guys found him. What happened?”

  “I don’t have all the details, I just know that Jack got away. He’s in a safe house here in DC while the boys upstairs figure out what the hell we’re going to do with him.”

  The “boys upstairs” were the Director and Deputy Director of the ATF, the General Counsel for the agency, and several other suits. So Jamie had told them he got beat up because the group he was undercover with had found him. Patrick was reeling. Jamie was a smart, sick fuck.

  “What do you mean?” A weird buzzing feeling traveled up Patrick’s spine, followed by heat spreading through his body. The ATF was going to protect him. They believed him. FUCK.

  “Well, he’s going to testify against one of the biggest gun traffickers in the U.S., so they’re going to hide him until the trial—that could be years.” Kevin leaned back in his chair and looked at Patrick.

  “Fuck,” Patrick muttered under his breath. This made things more difficult.

  “I know you’re pissed about how all this went down and I just wanted to give you a heads up that he’ll be around here.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do I want to give you a heads up?”

  “No, why would he be around here if we’re hiding him?”

  “Oh, we’re getting all the information we can from him. So he’ll be in from time to time to be interviewed and that sort of thing.”

  “How long?” Patrick rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger.

  “What?” Kevin asked, distracted by an email he’d started reading.

  Patrick stood up to leave. “How long will he be around?”

  “Oh, I’m not sure.”

  Patrick pulled his phone out as he left Kevin’s office and texted Billy. It was 11:15 am, they could meet for an early lunch and start planning.

  Meet me at Pentagon row

  Billy responded.

  Not convenient

  Patrick responded even quicker.

  El

  Billy responded.

  Where

  Patrick told him to meet him at the Thai restaurant and the time. He drove over to the restaurant and parked, walking and thinking about the steps they needed to take. They would have to take Jamie out, they both knew that much, now it was just a matter of how they’d do it. Could they work some angle with the ATF and expose him without putting El in danger? Would they have to hire someone to kill him at his safe house? Maybe they could somehow lead it back to the Crowders… All these thoughts swirled around his mind as he walked to Thaiphoon, Millie’s favorite Thai restaurant. He knew he’d beat Billy there, but didn’t want to sit and wait for him, so he paced the entire outside mall area. He walked up and down, waiting for the one person in his life that knew everything about him. The one person he trusted more than himself.

  Billy rounded the corner with a shit-eating grin on his face, which looked on the outside carefree, but Patrick knew better. He was ready to attack. It was his game face. Patrick nodded and they walked into the restaurant, each ordering a stiff drink for lunch and waiting patiently for the server to bring them.

  Patrick raised his for a toast. “Well, Jack Ryder has been on the run and was recently located by one of the guys from the group he was under with and while this mysterious guy beat the shit out of him, Jack was able to escape.”

  “Wow, he’s unbelievably talented,” Billy mocked.

  “Now the ATF has him in a safe house and will be using him to take down the entire operation.”

  “Well, that’s a plan,” Billy said and took a sip of his drink.

  “El is trying to get him arrested by the FBI. The FBI doesn’t even know who he is, so it won’t work.”

  “You need to let her do it her way, Patrick,” Billy urged, softly but firmly. “This isn’t your battle to fight.”

  “Isn’t it?” Patrick responded.

  “No, it’s not.” Billy rolled his glass in his hands. “Listen, Patrick, I know that you feel extremely guilty about what happened with El, but it wasn’t your fault. Jamie did this. Jamie and the ATF. This was out of your control.”

  “I should’ve told her.”

  “It’s easy to see that now, man.”

  Patrick’s guilt fueled him; he didn’t know how to feel about her without it. “I know you may not understand this, but I need to help her do this. I need to help protect her because I couldn’t do it that first year.”

  “You helped her survive; she knows that. Even as mad as she is at you, you were the only one who helped her make it through that first year without Jamie.”

  “It wasn’t just me.”

  “Who else was it?” Billy took a gulp of his drink. “It wasn’t her fucking parents. I still don’t get how they just left her here. They never even bothered to make sure she was okay.”

  “It wasn’t like that. I spoke with her dad or mom every day. I was trying to let her be okay. She didn’t want to talk to them, so I made sure they knew she was okay.”

  “But Patrick, she wasn’t okay.”

  “Well, sometimes I’m not okay, but I don’t need my fucking mom to come help things; it’d just be worse. It seemed like it wouldn’t help her to lean on her parents and she didn’t want to talk to anyone who knew her with Jamie. I was trying to help… I just wanted to fucking help.”

  “Sorry.” Billy shook his head. “I’m sorry, man, I didn’t mean to bring all this up. I just wanted you to know this isn’t your fault and it’s not your responsibility to save her or fix her…or love her.”

  Patrick looked down at the ice cubes in his glass and said nothing. The problem was that he wanted to save her, to fix her, to love her. Mostly he wanted her with him, in his life. He just needed to figure out a way to fix this. If things were meant to be like he thought, it would happen. It had to happen.

  Chapter Eight

  BOB AND WEAVE

  Patrick was still in bed. It was Saturday morning and he was taking the morning off from working out. Millie came back in the room and crawled under the covers after taking her robe off. He felt her breasts push into his back; he didn’t need any other hints at what that meant and he turned over to face her. His lips moved quickly, starting at her ear and moving to her jaw. He nipped at her bottom lip and she laughed. He grabbed her hands and put them over her head while he made his way down her neck and used his tongue to draw circles around her nipples one at a time.

  “I need you, now.” Millie arched her back up so that her body met his and wiggled her hips.

  He loved that she needed him, and without warning, he entered her. She groaned loudly and wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “Good morning to you both, too!” they heard Billy call from the other side of the door.

  Millie burst into giggles. “Sorry, Billy!” she yelled.

  “I’d much rather hear that sound than others,” Billy called back.

  “Could you guys shut the fuck up?!” Patrick yelled. They were really ruining the mood.

  He got them both where they needed to go quickly. Millie tried to stifle her usual noises, knowing Billy was in the kitchen, but Patrick had to put a pillow over her face to help shut her up; he could simply tell from her body what she needed.

  After they were finished, they lay there, facing each other. “If you could do anything all day what would you do?” Millie asked.

  “Are you kidding?” Patrick asked. He’d fuck her, obviously.

  “What?!” She hit him on the shoulder.

  “I’d fuck you all day.” Patrick sighed,
rolling over to his back to stare at the ceiling.

  “I’m going to New York with El next weekend,” she said, completely out of the blue.

  Patrick’s brow furrowed at the thought of both Millie and El in New York without him. “I’ll come too.”

  “You’re not invited,” she refuted.

  “Um, I’m not comfortable with you girls being there by yourselves. Is George going?” Not that George would make him feel terribly comforted…

  “Nope, it’s just us two. That’s what El wants. She’s doing that Diane Sawyer interview.”

  “Oh.” Patrick remembered Millie telling him about that. “I don’t think so.”

  Silence.

  He looked over at Millie. She was fuming. Patrick sat up and pulled on a pair of grey sweats and left the room. He closed the door behind him and began making coffee. He nodded at Billy watching College Gameday on ESPN. “Will you turn it up?”

  “Sure,” Billy answered.

  Patrick was putting cereal in a bowl when Millie slammed his door open and stood there in her robe, her just fucked hair making her look a little crazy.

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Patrick!”

  Patrick glanced at Billy only to see an amused grin on his face. He sighed. “It’s not safe, Mil. You’re not going.”

  “Um, fuck you. I’m going.” She stomped back into their room and slammed the door.

  “Shit,” he muttered and followed her into the room, closing the door behind him. “Millie, you know I wouldn’t usually tell you what to do, but El’s got some shit going down and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Get hurt how, Patrick? WHY WON’T YOU TELL ME ANYTHING?” Millie yelled, even though she was only a few feet from him.

  He leaned away from her, trying to figure out how to deal with her questions. “Millie,” he started using a very low, calm voice, “El recently had a death threat due to her testimony, you’re aware of that. She’s working with the FBI, you know that, too. She’s in danger and has a FBI detail on George’s house. You know all this.” He stood there watching her.

  “ON HER HOUSE!” Millie yelled back.

  What the fuck? “What?” Patrick asked, confused.

  “On El’s house! The FBI detail is on her house; she lives with George.” Millie’s eyes blazed.

  Patrick didn’t understand what this had to do with anything. “Okay, on her house, whatever,” he agreed.

  Millie crossed her arms and stuck her lower lip out like a toddler. “I’m going.”

  Patrick sighed and left the room. They’d been fighting more and more lately. This wasn’t how he pictured things going after the fantastic start to the morning. He couldn’t stop her from going, but it was stupid to let her go. It was dangerous. He didn’t know why he wasn’t as nervous for El. She was different than Millie, damaged. She could handle herself. Damaged people always knew how to survive. Millie was innocent and naïve and she needed his protection. Maybe he’d try to talk sense into her again this afternoon.

  A few days later, Patrick voxed George as he was driving into the city. “Hey, George, you around?” he asked through the app on his phone.

  “Patrick, yep, what’s up?”

  “Millie said something about her and El going to New York by themselves. You okay with that?” Patrick pulled onto 395 North going into DC.

  “Yes…” George sighed into the phone. “She’s fucking adamant about going with just Millie for this shit. I swear she’ll be the death of me. I mean, I think I’m getting grey hair since we started dating.”

  Patrick laughed, he knew the feeling. He felt about ten years older in the last year.

  “But, don’t worry, Jesse and I hired a couple of bodyguards he knows up there to follow them around while they’re in New York.”

  That actually did make him feel much better. “Oh, that works,” he said into the app, then pulled into the gated parking lot. His boss had been called to testify in front of Congress about the massive amount of seized guns by the ATF that had made it back on the market. Patrick was there to observe and take notes and what the agency would need to provide following the hearing.

  “Yeah, I hired them and they’ll meet up with the girls there,” George assured him. “No way to argue about it.”

  “All right, sounds good. I gotta go.” Patrick put his phone in the cup holder and pulled into a parking space. He scrolled through his texts as he was getting out of his car. Kevin was waiting for Patrick in the front of the Russell Senate Office Building. Patrick hurried to the front of the building and ran into Kevin, smoking a cigarette, just as he turned the corner.

  “Gonna be nasty,” Kevin said as Patrick stopped next to him on the sidewalk.

  Patrick nodded. It was going to be nasty. Someone in the ATF had been stealing guns that the agency had seized during raids and undercover operations and was selling them right back to the criminals. It was a disaster, the biggest clusterfuck that the ATF had been involved in over a decade.

  “So do we know how these guns are getting out?”

  “What the fuck do you think?” Kevin asked as he stamped his cigarette on the sidewalk.

  Patrick sighed. He wondered how long the investigation had been going on and he hadn’t been aware. Kevin had pulled him into this entire situation at the very end, when he wanted to make sure they hadn’t missed anything. The problem was Patrick wasn’t allowed to see everything, the results were held back. It looked as if the agency had followed all the leads they had, but it was hard to confirm when he couldn’t follow every lead to its conclusion. He’d voiced his concerns to Kevin, but Patrick was assured nothing of importance was held back. He didn’t trust the agency anymore, which was a problem. He was starting to believe in conspiracy theories. Maybe he’d been here too long, seen too many things.

  “Patrick?” Kevin broke through his thoughts.

  “Yeah?”

  “Let’s go.” Kevin led him into the building where the ATF would be slaughtered in front of the world.

  Millie had been radio silent during her trip with El to New York for the big interview. He knew El hated to have to do anything like this interview. The El he knew didn’t want to talk about everything that happened to her and was private; it was probably a very drunk weekend. He’d texted Millie a couple of times last night, but received no response. He would worry, but George assured him that the bodyguards Jesse hired were with them. Smiling to himself, he wondered how that conversation went with El.

  He and Billy were watching the Pittsburgh Steelers pummel the Green Bay Packers and drinking a couple of beers, yelling at the screen every once and a while.

  “When will Millie be back?” Billy asked, not taking his eyes off the game.

  “I’m not sure, sometime today,” Patrick answered, shrugging.

  Billy turned and faced Patrick. “She didn’t let you know when she’d be back?”

  It did seem stupid, with all that’s going on, that Patrick didn’t know when she’d be back. “I haven’t really heard from her since El did her interview yesterday.”

  “What’d you do?”

  What a loaded question… “Nothing.” Patrick took a gulp of beer and looked at his watch. It was getting late. He pulled out his phone and texted her.

  Where are you?

  Nothing. “What the fuck is going on?” he muttered.

  “Trouble?” Billy asked.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Patrick answered as he got up and walked through the kitchen. He wondered if something had happened in New York. He hoped he eased her concerns about him and El. He’d been as vague as he could and then distracted her with other things. He heard a squeak and the front door opened. He was relieved; he’d been starting to worry.

  Millie waltzed in with her suitcase and numerous shopping bags. Her hair was pulled up in a bun and she was still wearing sunglasses.

  As she sashayed past him and Billy through the den, he reached out and slapped her ass. “Looks like someone did some sh
opping.”

  She said nothing as she walked through the kitchen and into their room, then slammed the door. Patrick looked at Billy in question.

  “You got me, dude.”

  Patrick rose from the chair. “What the fuck?” he muttered. I guess it’s time to see what damage El did this weekend. He sighed as he opened the door and saw Millie unpacking her suitcase. He stood in the doorway and observed her movements, she had a determined, stubborn look on her face while she unpacked. Her brain was obviously in overdrive.

  “Mil?” he said as he shut the door softly.

  She shook her head, not looking at him.

  He reached out and touched her shoulder, but she stepped away from his touch. This was bad. “What’s going on?”

  “Fuck you,” Millie said softly and continued to put things away.

  He smiled at her. “What did I do?” he asked and moved to sit on the bed in front of her, forcing her to look at him. “I wasn’t even there to fuck up and you’re mad at me?”

  Millie stuck her hip out and contemplated her words. “I don’t like liars. It’s a pet peeve of mine. I never thought you were a liar. I’m not sure I can be with a liar.”

  He flinched every time Millie called him a liar. He didn’t think of himself that way, but he guessed he was a liar. He wondered which lie she was talking about.

  “You knew?” she asked brokenly, biting her lip as if she hoped maybe all of this was a dream.

  He saw hope in her eyes; hope that whatever came out this weekend was untrue. Ah…Jamie. El told her about Jamie.

  He put his head in his hands and contemplated his response.

  “You lied to El for four years, Patrick?” Millie took three steps back from him and crossed her arms over her chest. “You saw what she went through and you knew he was alive and you still let her spiral! It changed her. You hurt her. You hurt our friend. You helped perpetrate this…this fraud against her and it changed her entire life.” Her voice was clipped, but escalated. “I don’t know why I’m unpacking. I want to pack all of my things and move out of here. Away from you.”