by Melissa Huie
I lay on the couch and flicked on the TV. I was barely paying attention to the news when the doorbell rang. I quickly checked my watch. Six o’clock on the dot. Tommy was always on time. I opened the front door.
“Hi. Come on in,” I said, standing aside. He looked the same, maybe leaner. Tommy was very tall and lanky with green eyes and short light blond hair. He must have come straight from work, as he was wearing standard federal agent uniform: a black coat and pants with a gray button-down shirt.
“You look great, as always,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. He aimed for my lips, but I quickly turned my face so he got my cheek instead. I feigned a cough and gestured him in. He chuckled hollowly at the lack of warmth in my reception.
“So, what brings you here?” I asked, leading him into the kitchen. Lucky for him, Penny was outside. Tommy was highly allergic to dogs. I debated on keeping Penny in, just so he would leave sooner, but decided I did not want to be a bitch.
He set down the food and took off his jacket. “I was in the area and wanted to see how you’re doing. This is okay, right?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No, it’s fine. Just not like you,” I replied as I took plates and chopsticks out of the cabinet. I set them down. “Beer or soda?”
“I’ll take a soda. I’m going back to the office after this,” he said, settling into a seat. I brought over two cans of soda and sat down. I selected a tuna roll and added soy sauce. The whole situation was strained and awkward. I didn’t know much about his new life in New York. In fact, I couldn’t recall much of his life in general. Huh. It’s amazing what a great relationship and mind-blowing sex can make you forget.
“Oh, Emily and Samantha give their regards. Samantha got accepted to William and Mary. Emily is about to graduate from Juilliard this spring. Folks are good. How are you?”
This formality crap is getting old, I thought. “Mom and Kyle are good.” We sat in silence for a while, each of us testing the waters with mindless questions. I finally got fed up with it and bluntly asked, “Really, Tommy. Why are you here?”
“What? Can’t two friends get together for dinner?” he asked innocently. I rolled my eyes. I dated him for three years. I knew when he was full of crap.
“Yes. Two friends can get together for dinner. But we’re talking about us, and it’s not like we’re close friends. This is not normal,” I shot back.
“I’m just worried about you. I haven’t heard from you in a while. I wanted to make sure you were alright.” He busied himself with the soy sauce.
“So you came all the way out here? We rarely talk as it is, don’t you think a text message or a call would have been better? I don’t mean to sound like a bitch, but be real with me. What’s going on?” I insisted.
Tommy sighed. “I am helping Annapolis PD and the DEA on a big case, Megs. I figured that since I was in the area, I’d just stop by. Honestly, nothing is going on. I am worried about you though. You may not think so, but I do care about you. I just want to make sure you’re good,” he said sincerely. The moment he said “big case,” my interest piqued. What big case was he talking about? Uncle Bob’s federal case? Or something else?
“Tommy. I appreciate your concern. But really, I’m fine. Things are going well. I really don’t need you to check on me,” I replied, picking up a piece of eel.
“If you don’t need me to check on you, then whose bike is out front?” he demanded.
Bingo. I knew this would come up. I rolled my eyes. “Shane Turner’s. He moved in a few months ago.” I mentally dared him to react.
“Shane Turner. Huh. Are you two together?” Tommy inquired, his eyes widening innocently. That irritated me. It none of his business who I was dating.
“Why do you ask?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.
Tommy leaned back in his seat and put his hands behind his head. “I’m just curious and a little surprised. I ran across his name recently. He’s not doing so well for himself. He’s bad news, Megs. You should really pick your friends better.”
I immediately became defensive. “And how do you know this, Tommy? Are you checking up on all my friends too?” I asked. I could feel my blood start to boil.
Tommy leaned toward me in his chair. “I’m not checking up on your friends, I’m watching out for you. Did you know that Shane has a record a mile long? Possession of cocaine and marijuana, intent to distribute, breaking and entering, grand theft auto? Did you know that he is on the DEA’s radar? You shouldn’t be hanging out with him, Megan. He’s going to drag you down with him,” Tommy said, seemingly annoyed that I questioned his motives.
“What the hell are you talking about, Tommy? Shane did that crap years ago. He’s been out of jail for a long time now. What is the point of bringing it up now?” I asked, standing up to look him in the eye.
“It wasn’t a long time ago, Megan. The last time he was arrested was almost a year ago. If you don’t believe me, have Kyle look it up. You don’t know your boyfriend as well as you think you do,” Tommy pleaded, as he tried to hold my hands.
I jerked my hands away. “How dare you! You have no reason and no excuse to be meddling in my life. None. It’s none of your damn business who I see or who my friends are,” I yelled.
“I’m making it my business, Megan. Did you know that your man is hanging out with Reggie Cruz, a murderer and third in line to one of the biggest drug cartels in the world? Did he tell you that he deals for the same cartel? Is this something you really want to get involved with? What would your Dad say if he knew you were living with a drug dealer? How would your mom feel if her baby girl was thrown in jail because she was living with a known dealer? Guilt by association and facilitating a drug deal are real offenses, Megs. Are you going to throw away your life for him? For nothing?” Tommy yelled back. His face was turning bright red and veins were popping out of his head.
“You stay the hell out of my business. Get the hell out of my house, Tommy!” I yelled, my hands clinched in fists.
Chapter 17
“HEY! WHAT’S GOING ON IN HERE?” yelled a voice behind me. Shane had walked in, obviously from the shop. He had grease marks on his jeans and shirt and looked exhausted. “What the hell are you doing here, Tommy?” he asked. He clenched his jaw and fists and looked as if he was going to throw Tommy out.
“I’m leaving. Think about what I said, Megan.” Tommy picked up his jacket and brushed past Shane. Shane glared at him as he walked out, then came over to me and put his arms around my waist.
“What was that about?” he asked, searching my eyes. I couldn’t speak. I was too furious so I just shook my head.
“Megan, tell me. What’s wrong? What did he do?” he lifted my chin up with his finger so I could look at him. I needed something, anything, to dissolve the doubt that was growing. I pulled his face to mine and kissed him hungrily. Taken aback at my aggressiveness, he eagerly responded. I ran my hands under his shirt, feeling his muscles ripple with excitement. He gently pulled away.
“Not that I don’t love this reception, but tell me something. What is going on? What did he say to you?” he asked, his voice husky.
I had to verify the truth. That was the only way I could handle it. “Tommy said that you were arrested almost a year ago on distribution charges. Is that true?” I asked.
Shane sighed. “More like last year. It happened before you moved back. I guess I never told you. I was with this guy, Monroe, and he had about seven grams of coke on him. It was more like guilt by association. I’m not doing that now. I’ve left that life.” He tightened his grip around my waist.
I believed him. God help me, I believed him despite the nagging feeling in my gut planted there by Tommy. “I’m just making sure. He told me that you were still dealing. That you’re on the DEA radar and he’s worried that you’ll drag me down with you,” I said quietly.
Shane’s steel gaze hardened. “Tommy needs to shut his damn mouth. It’s not a big deal. I got arrested and made a deal with the prosecutors. I served my t
ime, did community service, and now I’m free. Adrian gave me a job and I have been straight ever since. I would never put you in that sort of danger. Tommy needs to keep out of our business.”
I nodded, relieved. Tommy was trying to cause unnecessary drama. I wasn’t going to believe him. But the feeling that Shane was lying wouldn’t go away. I shook it off and let Penny inside. Shane stood there, brooding.
“Hey, look at me,” I said, as I walked over and put my arms around his waist. “Tommy’s just causing trouble. I believe you. I know you’ve done better for yourself. You have me now, so of course you’re better,” I half-joked.
Shane’s eyes softened. He put his arms around my neck and kissed my forehead. “You’re right about that, babe.” He let out a heavy sigh and dropped his arms. “I’m going to jump into the shower. Do you have plans for the night?”
“Nope. Let’s go rent a movie. I’ll wait for you to change and we can go together and pick something out,” I replied, brushing the hair out of my eyes.
Shane nodded. “It will be good to relax for a night,” he said, almost more to himself than to me.
I finished the dishes and pulled towels out of the dryer. I was in the process of folding them when Shane’s phone rang. I was determined not to be that type of girl that checks her boyfriend’s phone. I ignored the phone until mine rang a minute later. Someone was trying to get a hold of Shane. I checked the caller ID. It was a number I did not recognize and hesitated before answering.
“Hello?” I asked cautiously.
“Megan! Where’s Shane?” Adrian’s frantic voice came over the phone.
“Shane’s in the shower. What’s wrong, Adrian? What happened?” I asked, worried. Adrian was usually so calm and cool. Hearing him like this was not a good sign.
“Megs, it’s Eric. He’s been shot,” Adrian said in a low voice. My heart stopped for a beat and then a rush of fear went through my stomach.
“What the hell happened? How did he get shot? Is he okay?” I demanded.
“Just get Shane and tell him to meet me at the hospital in Annapolis,” he cried and hung up the phone. Dread came over me and I was scared. Eric is practically a brother to Shane. I dropped the phone on the table and ran upstairs. Shane was still in the shower. I opened up the door and stood in the doorway, contemplating how I was going to tell him.
“Babe, you waited too long to join me. I’m just getting out,” he called over the sound of the water. I closed my eyes. The thought of telling him this news made my stomach feel like lead. Shane got out and wrapped a thick navy blue towel around his waist.
“Megan? What’s wrong?” he said, coming over to me and grabbing my arms. Tears streamed down my face.
“Shane. Adrian just called. He said that Eric’s been shot.”
Shane’s eyes went hard and his body turned rigid. Without a sound, he dashed into the bedroom. I followed him and watched him throw on jeans and a graphic T-shirt. “Where are my shoes?” he called, looking under the bed for them. I found them near the door and silently handed them to him. He grabbed his watch and wallet and thundered down the stairs. Wordlessly, I followed him. I grabbed my coat and purse and quickly locked up. He was waiting for me in the truck. Shane was stoic, his body tight with emotion, but nothing showed on his face. I could see that his hands were softly shaking.
“Hey. He’s a tough guy. He’ll be okay,” I said softly, putting my hand on his arm. Shane just nodded mutely. We quickly navigated the back roads to the hospital. The highways were faster, but I wanted to avoid ending up stuck in traffic and getting a speeding ticket.
As we pulled up to the hospital, I could tell he was about to jump out of his skin. “I’ll park the truck; just go. I’ll find you,” I insisted. He got out and I slid over. When I finally found everyone, Adrian was comforting Rachel. Tears streamed down her face and her body was shaking with sobs. I could feel my throat closing up and I looked desperately around for Shane. He was sitting in a chair, with his head in his hands. I hurried over to him and threw my arms around his body. He gazed at me, tears in his eyes. I didn’t have to ask, I already knew. “Oh God, Shane,” I said softly as I began crying for him.
We sat there, amid the hustle and bustle of the emergency room. A few minutes later, I heard an unmistakable wail of agony. We both looked up. Eric’s father and Adrian were holding up Eric’s mom, Marie. Shane rushed over to help. “Why, Shane? Why my son?” she screamed, holding onto Shane for dear life. Then she suddenly smacked Shane across the face. He didn’t even flinch.
“You brought him into that life, Shane. He was trying to get his life straight. He was doing so well! Then you go and bring him back into a life of dealing and drugs. This is your fault!”
Shane looked sadly at Marie, tears running down his face. “I’m so sorry. I tried to talk Eric out of it. I didn’t want to get him involved. This was not supposed to happen.”
“Get out of here, Shane. You do not deserve to say goodbye to him!” she screeched, her short round body balled up tight. I could tell she was going to strike again, so I rushed over to pull Shane out of the line of fire.
As we walked away, Rachel grabbed Shane by the arm and threw her arms around him in a bear hug. “Don’t worry, Shane. Mama loves you,” she choked out. Shane whispered something in her ear, which made her break down in sobs. He kissed her on her forehead and shook Adrian’s hand. He put his arm around my waist and we walked out of the emergency room and into the setting sun.
We walked to the truck in silence. Rage and pain radiated off his body. I wanted him to know that I was here for him. As we got in, I looked at him and said, “I’m sorry Shane. If you want to talk . . .”
“I’m fine,” he interrupted, the sadness replaced by determination. I didn’t respond, just watched his face as we sped down the highway. He was being reckless, almost daring the police to pull him over.
* * *
We made it home without incident and he walked upstairs and slammed our bedroom door shut. My heart was breaking for him. I felt helpless and unsure of what to do. I knew that just being here would help but I wished I could do something more. I placed an order of flowers for Eric’s parents and sat at the kitchen table. My thoughts wandered to the exchange Eric’s mother had with Shane. Since when did Eric deal drugs? Did Shane ever try to get him out of it? I wondered, as I made some tea. I quietly carried the tea up the stairs and knocked on the door.
“Yeah?” he demanded as he flung open the door. The anger in his eyes and face was set in stone; he looked different. Shane did not look like the same man that I had slept with last night. He had changed clothes into a black oversized hooded sweatshirt, and was clearly about ready to leave. Taken aback by his change in demeanor, I struggled to find my voice.
“Can I do anything for you? I’m here if you need me,” I said timidly. He seemed on the brink of losing it.
“No,” he said roughly, as he brushed past me, duffle bag in hand. I quickly glanced at our room. Drawers were pulled out, the closet door was wide open with clothes hanging haphazardly. I quickly set the tea down on the dresser and rushed down the stairs.
“Wait. Where are you going, Shane?” I asked in panic. I didn’t want him to do anything stupid, like try to find whoever killed Eric. Shane ignored me and headed out the door. I raced after him.
“Shane!” I shouted, “Goddammit! Will you just stop for a second?”
“I have to leave, Megan,” he said, throwing his bag in the front seat of the truck and turning to me. The pain in his face was the only emotion I saw. Shane tried to get into the truck but I pulled his arm back.
“No. Stay here. Talk to me,” I pleaded. I don’t want him to leave. He can’t leave. I won’t let him.
Shane sighed with impatience. “Megan, I have to.”
“The hell you do. Why? Where are you going?” I demanded. I don’t care if I look crazy, I’m not letting Shane leave.
“I just have to get out of here,” he growled, turning back to his truck.
>
I pulled back hard on his arm. “Please don’t leave me like this,” I whispered.
He pulled me into his arms and crushed his lips to mine. As if he were trying to memorize the way my lips felt, the way they tasted. I kissed him back with the same passion. Then he abruptly pulled back.
“Be good,” he whispered as he got into his truck. The engine roared and he peeled out of the driveway. I watched him until he disappeared around the corner, not knowing when or if he was coming back.
Chapter 18
DAYS PASSED WITH NO WORD from Shane. I tried to help Rachel and Marie make the funeral arrangements but felt in the way. I stumbled through the week, going through the motions at work. My heart mourned the loss of Eric, but my deepest ache came from missing Shane. I felt empty inside. By Thursday, I was an absolute mess. I couldn’t stand not knowing where he was, if he was okay. Despite my determination not to, I had fallen for him hook, line, and sinker. I was in love with him. I had gotten used to having him in the house, having him around all the time. It felt like something was missing.
Eric’s funeral was on Friday so I took the day off. I took Penny for a rare morning jog, hoping to clear my head. It was a beautiful May morning with a slight breeze and clear skies. I had been keeping in touch with Rachel about the arrangements, but she never mentioned if she had contacted Shane. I sent him a text message with all the information and got no response. I wasn’t sure if he would show. As I dressed, I kept a watchful eye on my phone for a call, a text, for any sign that he was coming.
I was walking out of the mudroom door when I saw Shane come up the driveway. As always, he looked absolutely gorgeous. Dressed in a gray linen suit, a black button down shirt, and a black tie, he looked like he was a model posing for a secret service ad. I gave him a small smile and hoped he couldn’t hear my heart trying to pound out of my chest.