When it was apparent that she was not coming back, Jack slowly marched to their bedroom like a zombie and sank down on the bed. He buried his face in his hands feeling like he was going to shatter with some emotion he couldn't quite handle.
It was anger, anger and some form of betrayal. Why was he angry at Maia? Wasn't this what they had agreed upon? That he would not interfere with her job? That he had understood the consequences of getting involved with her? Everyone had warned him—Derek, Viktor and Maia herself.
Or maybe it was anger at himself for constantly lying to Maia when he said he was OK with her job and its associated risks, when truthfully he wasn't?
Suddenly he felt exhausted ... mentally, physically and emotionally drained. He crawled into bed, still in his work clothes, and inhaled the scent of her on the sheets. And then he fell asleep.
Jack dragged himself to work for the next three days. It had been painful to wake up in in the mornings to a cold empty bed. He just wanted to lay there and stare at the ceiling. Is this what he had been reduced to? Someone adrift with no direction? He forced himself to get out of bed and get ready for work. He nicked himself a couple of times shaving, and decided to give up for the time being.
He'd been a robot for the past few days, just signing papers, responding to phone calls with little enthusiasm and simply breathing but not feeling any life in him.
Derek was coming in today after an extended vacation past the New Year. Perhaps his friend would be able to kick some sense into him.
"So are you growing a beard, Jack?" Derek asked as he moseyed into his office. "Everyone seemed relieved that I'm back, said you weren't yourself. So what's up?"
"She's gone," Jack replied dully. Not looking at his friend but just scribbling idly on a notepad, he told him what had gone down when Maia left.
"Ah...I thought you were okay with that part of her life," Derek said tentatively.
The spark seemed to return to his body, or was it rage?
"Obviously, I lied!" Jack snapped. "Why would she leave like that? Can you explain that to me? Why would she do that if she loved me? No matter how you look at it, the way she just left me, like I was some meaningless fuck, was totally screwed up. Do you know that I feel anger towards her? I should be worried, but no, I am angry at her. What does that say about me?"
"Jack ..."
"What does that say about me that I am feeling anger instead of worry?" Jack repeated in an anguished whisper.
"Jack, maybe you're angry because she put you in a situation where you're worried about her and there's nothing you can do to protect her," Derek said quietly. "Does that makes sense?"
Jack threw his pen on the table and raked his fingers through his hair. "I'm not like this. I can handle this better. It's her job and I have to understand it."
Derek looked at him doubtfully. "She'll be back before you know it, Jack."
Unfortunately, in the next few days, Jack did not understand. He just got angrier and angrier and his emotions began to spill into his work. He started snapping at everyone and his staff started avoiding him. Derek had to pull him aside a couple of times to calm him down.
"I take it understanding is not working?" Derek asked.
"Fuck off!"
"Jack, I'm the only one here who is willing to face you," Derek said. "Now you've got to get a grip of yourself or you're going to bring this company down in a space of a week."
Derek was exaggerating of course. The company could run itself smoothly thanks to Jack's efficient assistants—but his assistants were presently nervous wrecks because of him.
Right now, Jack felt like the company could go to hell and that's when he realized that he was holding on to anger so toxic it was making him irrational. He was not this person. He seriously had to get his act together.
"I'll sort my shit out," Jack assured his friend wearily.
For the next two weeks, things at work returned to normal. As normal as Jack could force himself to be at the office. He also finally shaved his beard and had buried the anger somewhere deep inside him. A pit of worry had started to grow with each passing day as the three-week mark approached. Was Maia all right? No news was good news right? Jack was itching to call Viktor but Derek had cautioned him about that. There was nothing Viktor could tell Jack: it was against protocol and might only bring about a repeat of the Mike Callahan debacle if both men went into a pissing contest.
The nights were a different story. He didn't want to go home to his apartment. He felt an unbearable ache in his chest because she wasn't there. He missed her and was slowly going out of his mind with anxiety. This made him lose sleep at night, and though he tried to put on a brave front at work, his face was haggard and taut with dark circles shadowing his eyes.
He lived on caffeine during the day and whiskey at night with the occasional slice of pizza that Derek would try to shove down his throat. He was functioning, but he was also empty.
***
The first inkling that Jack had that she was back was the aroma of apple pie that wafted through the elevator doors as the car reached the penthouse.
Elation hit him. She was back. She was safe, Jack thought as a surge of emotion overwhelmed him.
Then he saw her. His beautiful Maia, smiling at him as if she had never left. She walked towards him as he stood motionless in front of the elevator. He was stunned. He was stunned that, as she approached, the pent-up anger that had consumed him that first week came roaring back.
As she reached out to hug him, he recoiled. He held his arms out to hold her at arm's length and shook his head numbly at her.
"Jack?" Maia asked, a frown etched in her face, alarm in her eyes.
"I can't do this," Jack found himself whispering hoarsely. His own voice sounding so distant. "I thought I could, but I can't"
"Jack, I'm back. I'm sorry that ..."
"No, Maia. I was wrong to think that this could work," he continued quickly, wanting to get it all out because he knew that if he kissed her he would be dragged back into their complicated relationship. He had managed to untangle himself, hadn't he? He had survived the past three weeks. He missed her terribly, but he was functional. He could do this. Now was his chance to work her out of his system. "I don't think this relationship can work. I'm sorry, Maia."
"You're ending this?" Maia's voice caught in a hitch, her hand went to her throat as if in disbelief.
"I don't accept what you do, I lied," Jack admitted. "I'll always try and want to protect you. But not knowing where you are, what danger you're in—that will drive me insane. That's not a life I want. A life of not knowing. It'll turn me into a horrible person—that's not me. You'll always choose your job, I'm not even going to try to compete."
Maia's eyes flashed with pain and Jack fought the urge to yank her into his arms and kiss her to make that pain go away. Just as quickly, a mask fell over her face, her clear blue eyes turning so icy they made Jack wince.
"I see," Maia said with no emotion. "I guess there's nothing else I can say?"
Jack strengthened his resolve. He could do this. When he spoke, it was with businesslike detachment. "I hope you can get your things out by tomorrow. I leave for work at around 9:00 am."
Maia gave a snort of disgust. "Is this how you end all your arrangements?"
Jack sighed. "Maia, I'm trying to make a clean break for both of us."
"You speak from experience of course," Maia said mockingly. "Don't worry Jack, you won't find a trace of me anywhere when you come back tomorrow."
She grabbed her purse and walked to the elevator. Before she stepped in, she looked back at him and said, "Have a good life, Jack."
And then she was gone.
"He broke up with me," Maia said despondently as she tossed back a shot of tequila. She was with Derek at a bar in Georgetown. She had gotten into a cab and promptly burst into tears. Bawling like a little girl, the first person she called was Derek.
"You two drive me bug fuck," Derek said tersely as he tossed ba
ck his own drink. "Jack was a fucking mess when you left. If you'd handled that better, you two probably wouldn't be in this shit."
"So are you saying it's my fault?"
"Maia, stop acting like a child. You know what I mean," Derek said irritably. "I thought Jack had sorted his shit out, he's only dug himself a deeper hole. Look, this is just anger and he will come around."
"You know I was going to stay in Russia for a few more weeks? There were weeks' more work, but I told our client that I needed to fix some personal stuff—meaning Jack," Maia said sadly. "I guess I don't need the week I requested."
"You're going back?"
Maia nodded, her face hardened. "I called Viktor before you arrived. I'll be leaving with a couple of Guardians in a few days. Our client is going on full offensive. It's going to be war."
"Holy shit," Derek said as he ordered a couple more tequila shots.
"This last gig was tough. Had to travel almost halfway through Russia without being detected," Maia shuddered in recollection. "We had some really close calls. Nearly got my head blown off by a sniper. Another time we got cut off from our ammo truck and had to fight our way out with Molotov cocktails."
"Jesus. Is it going to be more of the same thing when you go back?"
"I hope not. Like I said, this time we're going on an offensive. We're planning an assault on the enemy stronghold, when we could get a lock on it, that is. That's why I still had time to come back. Guess I should have just stayed behind and helped in the search," Maia said as the thrill of the mission returned. With no anchor, no Jack, she had become this deadly weapon once more who was willing to do whatever it took to finish the job.
Derek frowned as a killer gleam entered Maia's eyes. "Are you okay, sweetie?"
"You know what? I've never been better," Maia declared as she tossed back her drink and laughed with rancor. "I have no more Jack to worry about. I've said this before. What makes an effective Guardian? No attachments."
"Maia, don't say that," Derek pleaded, concern in his eyes. "He'll come around, the man is confused."
"I won't let him come near me again. He broke my heart, Derek," Maia whispered bitterly. "I didn't ask to be in a relationship with him. He pursued me and then when he couldn't handle the heat, he tossed me out—he gave up, just like that. I don't need a man like that. I was better off by myself. Like I am now. Where all I feel is the thrill of my next mission. Let that be a lesson."
"Jack's hurting. He's proven himself to you more times than ever. He's never felt this strongly for anyone and he doesn't know how to handle it," Derek tried to argue.
She shrugged. "It's too late."
"Sweetie, don't be like this."
Maia shook her head as she stated resolutely. "I'm done."
***
Jack anxiously strode into his apartment. He had gotten up that morning with pragmatic optimism. It was Day One of life without Maia. He saw Derek briefly at work but his friend did not speak to him, acting seemingly pissed which, Jack suspected, he was. He felt guilty for getting Derek caught up in the drama between him and Maia. Everything would resolve itself eventually.
As Jack loosened his tie, he saw a keycard on his kitchen counter. Maia's elevator keycard to his apartment. He felt a pang settle in the pit of his stomach, a swell of emotion starting to push up uncomfortably into his diaphragm. He walked swiftly into the bedroom and noticed that everything looked tidy—too tidy. The bed was made, the sheets changed, the night tables and dressers wiped down. The floor was vacuumed and polished. The scent of lemon and bleach assailed his nostrils as he entered the adjoining bathroom. Every single tile gleamed, all his personal essentials were there but not a single item of hers was left.
Maia's words echoed in his head, "You will not find a trace of me anywhere..."
Jack walked into the huge closet. Maia's clothes, shoes and bags were gone. He moved to the dresser and started opening the drawers, a strange panic starting to well up inside him. Gone. Everything that belonged to her was gone, even her scent, that special perfume that was all Maia... Jack inhaled... nothing. Except. Jack opened the bottom drawer and he saw them—the necklace and earrings he had given her for Christmas.
He picked up the boxes and opened them. The diamonds sparkled as he remembered the night he had made love to her, how he was bent over her and moving inside her, pumping into her lush heat.
Jack flung the jewelry boxes at the far wall and tore through the apartment desperately searching for any sign of her, any clue that she had been there and that what they had shared had not been a dream. But there was nothing.
She had erased herself from his life.
An anguished howl pierced the room, as he sank down on the hardwood floor beside the bed. His cheeks were wet. He was crying.
"What have I done?" he rasped, a guttural sound against the walls.
This was what he wanted, right? He had told her to clear out by today. And she did. So what was that twitch in the pit of his stomach? That burn on his chest that had become so heavy and painful it weighed down like an anvil? With shaking hands, he poured some whiskey and tossed it back.
The burn of the liquid did nothing to assuage the paralyzing pain in his chest.
His vision blurred now, as he realized his tears were coming faster, his racking sobs sounding foreign to him as his chest started to heave against an excruciating torment. He poured more whiskey and drank it back almost choking. But it would not ease the anguish.
"Come back," he heard himself whisper brokenly.
"Maia, please, come back to me."
***
The MDI offices were in an uproar—or rather Jack's executive assistants and his secretary. He had been MIA for almost two days. He had not called in, had not been responding to calls, text messages or emails. Derek, was beginning to worry. The first day after he and Maia officially broke up, Jack appeared normal—too normal. Derek was too pissed at both of them to talk to him.
Then yesterday, Jack did not show up for work. Derek assumed that the reality had hit him and that he didn't feel like facing anyone, or maybe even that he had gotten back with Maia. It was still unlike him not to call in. And then today, it was the same thing. No Jack, no calls, no emails.
Laurie Stone had begged Derek to go check on her boss. She had witnessed, first-hand, Jack's erratic behavior in the past few weeks, and would prefer to have Derek handle their CEO. Some contracts needed to be reviewed, and there was an upcoming meeting with the DoD that needed preparation.
Luckily, he had a spare keycard to Jack's apartment. As he waved it on the elevator's scanner, he punched the floor for his penthouse, he prayed that his friend was there and not floating in the Potomac. Derek snorted when that last thought crossed his mind. Jack wouldn't commit suicide. If he was indeed floating in the Potomac it would be more likely that Maia had put him there in a fit of rage. Oh Christ, what the hell was he thinking? They were his friends. Whatever: friends shouldn't put him through this.
When the elevator door swooshed open, the stench of whiskey hit him. The apartment was a mess. Drawers were open, chairs overturned, shattered glass on the floor and an unconscious Jack, lying butt naked—fortunately face down—on the couch. Jack moved slightly as Derek approached, so he knew his friend was just sleeping.
"Christ!" Derek muttered as he waded over clothes and other items to get into the bedroom and rooted through Jack's drawers to pull out some sweatpants. He went back to the couch, bent down, and started tapping his friend lightly on the cheek.
"Get up, you dumb shit," Derek muttered irritably.
Jack opened one eye and mumbled, "Go away."
"Not on your life," Derek snapped, hauling Jack up to a sitting position and tossing the clothes at him. "Put this on!"
"Lower your voice," Jack hissed but did what Derek told him.
"Of all the idiotic and irresponsible things to do, this takes the cake," Derek said angrily. "What the hell is wrong with you? What are you? Eighteen?"
"She le
ft me," Jack mumbled.
"That's not what I heard; she said you tossed her out on her ass."
Jack's eyes widened. "You talked to her? What did she say?"
"Fuck if I tell you. You said you had your shit sorted out and then I hear you pull this stunt."
Jack grabbed Derek's collar. "What did she say?"
"Why should you care? Well, she said it was good riddance and she'll rot in hell before she lets you close to her again." Derek was embellishing of course but smiled inwardly in satisfaction when Jack winced painfully. He deserved that.
"Did you tell her I was angry?" Jack asked. At Derek's silence, his brows knitted together and he said furiously, "You didn't even defend me?"
Derek sighed. What a fucking mess.
"What do you want, Jack?"
"I want her back," his friend replied simply as if he hadn't just thrown his girlfriend out of his apartment.
"Oh, you want her back?" Derek mocked. "You think it's going to be that simple? This is Maia we're talking about, not some debutante bimbo you can string along with your dick. And you know that if you do get her back—and that's a big IF—you can't pull this shit again."
"I know that!" Jack snapped and winced as his apparent hangover was still affecting him.
"Then be prepared to grovel, my friend," Derek said with some relish. "Or to shovel. Because you'll either be getting her back or digging your own grave."
Jack grimaced at his friend's words.
Jack sat down on his bed and grabbed his phone. After a shower, he went out for a big steak dinner with Derek. He hadn't eaten in two days unless, one can call candy bars food. They talked mostly about office stuff and when they parted ways that evening he had promised Derek that he wouldn't touch the liquor cabinet and would show up for work tomorrow.
Fire and Ice (Guardians) Page 29