“What?” The word escaped me before I could hold it back. I had to mentally remind myself to keep my jaw shut. I’d never seen Firen do, say, or act emotional. Never. Though I could tell by her swift commands and actions that she deeply cared for Jenna and Jules, there were never any tears or hugging or talking about emotions, or any of that other girly stuff.
“I’m only hurting them by staying,” Firen said carefully, as if I were slow.
Trying to get over seeing Firen like this, I finally pulled myself together. “Don’t be ridiculous. You aren’t leaving. If you did, you’d break Jules’s heart,” I argued. “And Jenna’s.” Comforting and pacifying Firen actually helped to calm me down after my heated conversation with Tom.
Firen inhaled a steadying breath and collected herself. Instantly the mask she hid behind was back. She nodded once and pushed off the bedroom door, strolling past me as if our conversation had never happened. If she wanted to act like it didn’t, I was perfectly fine with that.
I lightly tapped on the bedroom door. “Jenna, sweetie? Everything okay?”
No response. Great, I was receiving the silent treatment.
“Jules?”
I heard Jenna huff on the other side of the door. “We’re fine. I just need space for a few, please?”
Happy she wasn’t cussing me out, I acquiesced. “Of course.”
The doorbell rang, and I sighed. I gave one last longing look at the bedroom door and walked away. The doorbell rang again. Andrew stood in the foyer, staring at the closed front door with eyebrows furrowed. For a second I joined him. Through all the chaos, the doorbell hadn’t rung once. Not a single time. Andrew and I exchanged a curious glance as the doorbell rang again.
Gabby poked her head in from the kitchen. “Hey, you gunna answer that any time soon?”
We turned to her, as if expecting her to explain the strange noise that was my doorbell . . . ringing again.
“Dude,” Gabby said, rolling her eyes. “Answer the door already.”
I shrugged and looked through the peephole. I grinned widely when I saw who was on the other side. “Sure, Gabby, I’ll answer the door.” It came out sarcastically.
I unlocked the deadbolt and flung the door open, stepping back for Gabby to see exactly who it was. “Hello, Sara,” I greeted.
A bubble of laughter escaped Gabby before she could contain it. “Yes, hello ex-girlfriend Sara. And might I add: law-breaker? Who let you out of your cage? Don’t you know Joseph has a restraining order against you?”
My ex-girlfriend, Sara, was unfazed by Gabby’s questions. Ignoring my protests, she pushed her way into my home. I stared at Gabby, pleading for help with my eyes. She exchanged a knowing look with Andrew, who then grinned, nodded, and disappeared down the hallway. Who knew what they were up to—those two were trouble.
“Come on in,” I said under my breath, my tone sardonic. “Explore. Get comfy. Understand that what I just said was sarcasm, and what I really meant was: it wouldn’t ruin my day one bit if you managed to beat yourself unconscious while here. Try the lamp.”
“Quit pretending you’re ignorant,” Sara said to me, voice playful.
“Ignorant?” My eyebrows rose to hairline. “Ah, so that’s the word. I actually consider myself to be an oblivious bad ass.”
Gabby waved a hand in front of her face, giggling. “Can someone please diffuse the sexual tension in here? It stinks.”
I glared at Gabby, but she only smiled wickedly.
“I’m sorry, Sara, but you have to leave. My house isn’t zoned for the deranged,” I said, hoping she’d get the point.
Sara twirled around. “This act is starting to hurt my feelings.”
“Uh, what act?”
“The one where you act like you aren’t my boyfriend,” she purred, putting her paws all over me.
“I’m not your boyfriend!” I snapped, trying to gently move her hands away from my body.
“How can you say that?” Sara asked in horror.
“It’s shockingly effortless,” I replied. “My vocal chords vibrate, and my mouth and tongue articulate. I can even do it without thinking.” I had to remind myself to stay calm, and sarcasm was the best way to do that.
“When are you going to give me a key to your house so I don’t have to knock like some guest?” Sara asked, coming at me again.
I backed away. “How about never? Is never good for you?”
Sara, undeterred, said, “You’re the reason I go to therapy on Fridays.”
“The plot thickens!” Gabby exclaimed for comedic relief.
Sara stepped closer to me again and grabbed my fun parts. I froze. I wasn’t sure what to do. Sure, outside the FBI building when Sara attacked Gabby, I had used force to subdue her, but now she wasn’t hurting anyone except my pride. In an attempt to get away without touching her, I backed away. Thinking it was an invitation, Sara pursued me with a demented glint in her eyes. Realizing I’d backed myself into a corner, or rather, the sofa, I glanced at Gabby in panic. Sara seized my jaw and forced me to look at her, and then she pushed me onto the couch. Gabby stood by, watching in amusement. I was so going to get her back for this. Seriously, couldn’t she at least go all lightning eyes like she had at the FBI building? Instead, she kept a running commentary of sarcastic remarks. Oh yeah, payback would be necessary.
Sara licked her lips, and I groaned. Again, Sara misread my actions and thought I was encouraging her to join me on the couch. Or as she saw it: straddle me like I was a freakin’ rodeo bull. I wanted to grab the lamp next to me, slam it into my skull a few times, and hope I would forget about this horrible experience. Sara had gone too far this time, and I was about to push her off when Jenna came in. Shit. This was like a bad comedy movie in the making. I immediately rose to my feet, my face heating. Sara tumbled to the ground in a heap, and I stepped away from her as if she were a poisonous snake.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I rasped, realizing how stupid that sounded.
Jenna’s lips were pursed so tightly that they turned white, and her eyes turned into viridescent stone. I gulped. Jenna was the opposite of Firen; every emotion was powerfully displayed on her face and evident in her posture. “It’s not, huh?”
“It’s complicated,” I said in defense, my hands going up to show surrender.
“Talk slowly,” Jenna retorted derisively.
“Okay, I deserved that,” I admitted.
Sara rose to her feet, unperturbed at being thrown to the ground. Her crazy eyes tracked me as if she were a lioness stalking prey. She had become so invested in me that she was completely unaware of Jenna watching her every move. Except Jenna wasn’t a lioness, she was more like a Venus Flytrap, waiting patiently for her prey to land in exactly the right spot before striking. What does one do when they’re trapped by something like that? It was worse than a rock and a hard place. I considered the lamp again.
Sara tried to wrap an arm around my shoulder, and I ducked, backing away again. Gabby was outwardly chuckling now, enjoying this far more than one should. Hah-hah. So funny, I mentally mocked.
“Sara, stop,” I snapped when she came at me again. Jeez, couldn’t this woman get a clue already?
Sara finally stopped advancing on me and smiled. She held her hand out to Jenna. “Hi. I’m Sara, Joseph’s girlfriend. And who are you?”
I closed my eyes, praying this was just an unbelievably dreadful dream. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words would form. When I peeked at Jenna, I saw something swirl in her eyes. It reminded me of Gabby’s lightning eyes. Jenna glared down at Sara’s hand and then brought her gaze upward, disgust clear in her sneer. Sara shrugged and dropped her outstretched hand. When Sara tried to touch me again, I backed away, my arm brushing Jenna’s. She was quivering, she was so furious. I couldn’t blame her.
“Don’t be that way,” Sara cooed at me.
“You need to leave now,” I whispered through gritted teeth.
“You don’t mean that.” Sara’s vo
ice chafed on my nerves. She reached out, and I pictured taking a grater to her hands if she touched me again. “But Joey, why wouldn’t you want me here?” she whined.
The nickname finally spurned Jenna into action. I didn’t even see it coming, to be completely honest. One second Jenna was next to me, stiff and infuriated; the next second, her fist had connected with Sara’s jaw. And then Sara was on the floor, holding her face, and Jenna was standing over her, shouting obscenities. Gabby laughed hysterically, and I was doing my best to pull Jenna off Sara before she killed her.
“This is the last straw, Joseph,” Jenna shouted when I pried her off Sara.
My heart sunk. What did she mean by that? “I didn’t know—” I began to protest but realized it was useless.
“I can’t live like this anymore,” Jenna said, voice tired. “I feel like I’m on a ledge, and I’m to the point that jumping seems like a fantastically brilliant idea.”
Sara started to get to her feet, and I glared down at her.
“Get out of my house,” I fumed. “Now.”
Sara finally got the picture and gathered herself to leave.
“Awe! Leaving so soon?” Gabby said sweetly, holding the door open. “I was just about to pull out the gun for you to play single-player Russian Roulette.”
Before Sara exited, she turned to Gabby. “Sarcasm is the sanctuary of a shallow mind.”
“No, actually, sarcasm is a way to insult idiots like yourself without them realizing it.” Gabby pushed Sara out the door and slammed it behind her. The sound was so incredibly satisfying.
I stepped toward Jenna and cradled her face in my palms. She was on the verge of tears, and it broke my heart. “We’ll leave, I promise. Just give me a day. Okay?”
She nodded, and I leaned in to give her a tender kiss. Her lips were soft and warm against mine. We parted, only an inch away, our breaths mingling.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I should just go marinate in shame.”
Jenna stopped me from leaving and hugged me, tightly gripping me around my waist. I hated that she was going through this, and I hated it even more that I was the one responsible. I had to fix this.
“The last straw?” I heard Andrew murmur to Gabby, clearly still trying to puzzle out Jenna’s original comment.
I smiled, and Jenna chuckled against my chest. Ah, thank you Andrew for comedic relief.
CHAPTER 7: THE BIRDS AND THE BEES
Jenna knew I had an ex-girlfriend named Sara, she knew that I had a restraining order against Sara, and Gabby had told her about the incident outside of FBI headquarters last year. It wasn’t until Sara had pushed her way into my home and tried to rub herself all over me that Jenna was able to fully grasp how psychotic Sara actually was. With everything that had been going on, Sara had been the least of my worries. Or so I thought. Since Jenna and Jules were now my top priority, so was anything that threatened them or our relationship. I hoped Sara finally got the message, so I didn’t pursue having her arrested. Again. Jenna agreed with me and was a great sport about the whole incident. I was lucky to have someone who wasn’t the jealous type. However, I think it was obvious there was absolutely nothing Jenna had to be jealous about. Then again, I knew that the green-eyed monster had a mind and life of its own and sometimes threw reason out the window.
I was checking my email on my phone when I peeked over at Jenna. She was reading a fantasy book, which instantly reminded me of Gabby. The knuckles on Jenna’s right hand were cut and red, glistening under the light from the antibiotic ointment I’d generously applied after everyone had calmed down. Though I hated seeing Jenna hurt even a tiny bit, my heart swelled with pride at her right hook. She didn’t take crap, and I loved that about her.
The ticking of my clock seemed to reverberate through the room, and excitement over what that meant had me holding in a grin the size of Antarctica. “Do you hear that?” I asked Jenna.
She glanced up from her book and cocked her head to the side. Her head shook, and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t hear anything,” she said, as if I were losing my mind.
I gave her a moment to let that fact sink in, and then her eyes went wide. I grinned and silently thanked Tom for finally coming through. Jenna jumped up, tossed her book to the side, and ran to the long window next to the front door. She peeked through the curtains, and after a second of absorbing the quiet scene, she giggled.
“You can thank Andrew. He talked Director Morris into blocking off the entire road,” I explained when she turned around with a quizzical expression.
She smiled, dashed over to me, and flung herself onto my lap. I laughed and kissed her, so happy to see her smile again. “Remind me to thank him. Speaking of, it’s been too quiet around here. Where is everyone?”
“I have another surprise for you,” I whispered conspiratorially.
“Another one?” she asked, eyebrows high.
“Yeah. This was actually Gabby’s idea . . .”
Jenna automatically laughed at that. “Should I be scared?”
“Terrified.” I laughed, kissing her. “It’s so quiet around here because all the angels left. Well, except Firen. Obviously.”
Jenna pulled away from me, sincerely flabbergasted. “What? Why?”
“To give us some alone time. Well, as alone as we can be with Firen and Jules in the house.” I traced a hand down Jenna’s soft cheek, trying to memorize every inch of her face. It wasn’t hard to do—she was an amazingly beautiful woman. Jenna had these mind-blowing greenish-brown eyes that I swore could see right through me, deep into my soul. She also had these adorable freckles sprinkled across her cheeks and skin as silky and exquisite as Snow White’s. When Jenna smiled, I mean really and truly smiled, tiny lines appeared at the edges of her lips. I loved that smile—lived for it.
“We’re alone?” she breathed, as if afraid to believe it.
I nodded, eyes going straight to her pink lips. She bit her lip and gave me a mischievous look. I was about to lean in and kiss her when she rose from my lap as if ejected and theatrically tiptoed toward the kitchen. She peeked around the corner. Soft murmurs from Firen and Jules filtered into the living room, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. Jenna mouthed something to Firen and pointed over her shoulder at me. I couldn’t tell what she was mouthing, but then Jenna pivoted around, seemingly satisfied that Jules was occupied with Firen. She sauntered over to me all seductively, except she had this endearing smirk that I had come to know as her troublemaker face. And man did I want to get into all kinds of trouble with her. I returned the smirk, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Jenna yanked me from the couch and practically dragged me down the hallway, as if she were the caveman. I had to stifle my laughter.
Once inside the room, I shut and locked the door behind us. Jenna bit her bottom lip again, and my heart did a little flip. Though I’d never admit it to anyone but Jenna, I always had these strange reactions when I was around her. Racing heart, fluttering stomach, an excitement that made me want to giggle like a kid. I kept wondering when she’d stop having that effect on me, but instead of the feelings dissipating or losing their luster, they grew stronger with each interaction, which was probably why I asked her to marry me.
I couldn’t stay away from her any longer. Two long strides and Jenna was in my arms. One hand tangled in her hair as I bowed her body into mine with the other, delighting in her eagerness. Our lips met feverously, and in the next moment, our clothes were ripped off and lay haphazardly on the floor. Then we were on my bed and between the sheets, limbs intertwined, bodies pressed together, breaths heavy and wanting, our cries aching and blissful. For those moments, there was only us, and everything was perfect and right. There was no impending war, no angels, no media, no protestors. Moments like these made the future I hoped to have with Jenna tangible and real.
<>
Later that evening, after a delicious dinner and a quick game of Candyland with Jules, Jenna and I finally headed to bed. We were both exhaus
ted, and rightly so. Jenna snuggled into me and immediately fell asleep. Just as I was about to join dreamland, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I swore if it was the media, I would toss my phone into the toilet and flush it. Blinking at the bright light my phone produced, I groaned at the name on the screen.
It was my mother.
I knew this was inevitable, but seriously, my mother really did know how to pick the worst possible time to call me. I loved her—of course I did, she was my mother, after all—but not so much when I was in bed with Jenna. Talk about a mood killer.
“Hey, Mom,” I answered, whispering. “This really isn’t a good time. Can I call you back tomorrow?”
“Is that any way to treat the woman who carried you for nine months and gave birth to you?” my mom asked, clearly agitated. “And don’t forget about all those times I drove you to swim practice, or the times I fed, clothed, and sheltered you.”
Oh, she was definitely upset with me, seeing as how she was laying on the guilt trip ultra thick. “Hold on, let me pack my bags. I’m going on a guilt trip,” I muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry, Mom, you’ve just got stellar timing.”
“I don’t give a rat’s patootie what time it is,” she shouted.
I automatically flinched. I wanted to shush her. She was being so loud I was afraid she’d wake Jenna.
“What’s going on at your house?” my mom started in. “I’ve seen all kinds of crazy stuff on the news. I tell you what, mister, it is not looking good.”
I held back a sigh. “Don’t believe anything the media reports. They’re vultures.”
She huffed, disbelieving. “How can I not believe them when pictures and videos of you are splashed all over every single network? I can’t even turn on the TV without hearing or seeing something about the angels. And you! Your house! All over the internet—all over the TV.”
I cringed at what I knew my mother had seen via the news. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I mean, what else could I say to her?
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