Seamless

by Griffin, R. L.

  She took a deep breath when she stepped down out of the van, then got back in Delilah and took off. She vaguely noticed the van following her. Harris had told her they’d be within range, but wouldn’t be on the same street at the bar.

  Chadwick’s was on Canal, one street over from G Street. It was dark and less traveled. Stepping out of the car, she gathered every bit of fake confidence she had and walked toward the bar. Her body betrayed her will and she threw up, twice, in a bush. She hoped Agent Harris appreciated that sound. While she was bending down, she pulled out the pen in her pocket and began recording. Stella turned on the record app on her phone as she closed the distance to the restaurant. She knew having three different devices record their conversation was overkill, but she had to get his admission.

  The warmth of the bar hit her face, making her skin hot and her stomach knot. Get it together. She did a quick survey and relaxed a little when she realized that Jamie wasn’t there yet. She walked up to the bar and leaned against it, watching as the bartender made his way over to where she stood.

  “Hi.” Stella smiled, covering her nervousness. She knew that Agent Harris was listening to every word.

  “Hey, what can I get you?” The bartender was wearing a very tight black t-shirt with the bar’s logo on it. Chadwick’s was an old bar in Georgetown and a little off the beaten path so it wasn’t as loud or crowded as the restaurants and bars on G Street. She was hoping she’d have a better shot of getting the conversation recorded.

  “Layer cake, please?” Stella felt the acid in her stomach churn again. “And a water!” she called out as she looked toward the door.

  Stella felt his presence immediately. She waited at the bar for him to sidle up next to her.

  “What’re you drinking?” Jamie asked as he nudged her shoulder with his.

  Her body froze, then she forced herself to relax. Her vengeance was tucked away for this meeting; she wouldn’t get him to talk if she said what she wanted to him.

  Jamie’s face was amused. “I drive you to drink?”

  “I think that’s pretty fucking clear.” If she was too nice, he’d know something was up too. She needed to dance along a fine line. Stella didn’t know what she was doing, but she was going to give it all she had. She nodded at the bartender when he put her glass of wine down in front of her.

  “Yuengling,” Jamie ordered. “We sitting at the bar or a table?” He looked from the bartender to her.

  “Let’s sit over there,” Stella pointed at a two-top that was sort of out of the way.

  Jamie smirked. “You want to be that alone with me?”

  “No, I don’t want to be alone with you at all, but I think I may be able to solve all this shit and we won’t have to be around each other anymore.” She’d been working on her strategy on how to put him at ease. She hoped like hell it worked, because it was all she had.

  “Oh really?” Jamie’s eyes raked over her and stayed on her cleavage for a beat too long, just like she knew it would. “That’s a really nice shirt.”

  “Thank you.” She pulled the front of her shirt up with her left hand and fake smiled at him.

  “Now you’ve ruined my view.”

  “Fuck you.”

  The table was small, making their conversation spatially and physically intimate, Jamie’s long legs bumping up against hers.

  “You cuss way more than you used to,” Jamie commented.

  “Well, could you imagine if your fiancé died, then you were in a bombing, got shot, and then kidnapped? It caused my inner sailor to come out.”

  “So what’s this resolution you think you have?” Jamie ignored her comment and leaned back in his chair, separating himself from her.

  She leaned in. “Well, before I talk to you about what I’m willing to do to help you out, I have some questions. I need closure.”

  “Closure from what?”

  She squeezed her arms around her chest, which in turn pushed her boobs together, making a ruffling noise and blocking the microphone in her bra. “I know you told me why you shot me in Montana, but I want to know why you were there in the first place.” Leaning back, she exhaled slowly.

  Jamie looked around for a while and Stella thought he was just going to ignore her question. “Why?”

  Stella cleared her throat and pushed back from the table a bit. “The Jamie that I knew,” she cleared her throat again, “that I loved, wouldn’t have bombed that office.”

  “Stella,” Jamie gazed intently at her, “I still love you.”

  Stella’s eyes dropped. “No you don’t.”

  “Yes, the fuck I do.” Jamie grabbed her right hand, hard. Shit, maybe I should’ve left the cast on. “I hate you too. You’ve put me in a very bad position with some folks that I owe a little money to.”

  “They say it’s a thin line.” She looked at their hands together and tried to pull away from him.

  “I’m sorry.” He followed her gaze to their hands.

  “For which thing?” The hardness was threatening to choke her.

  “For everything.” Jamie released her hand and took a sip of his beer.

  “Well, that’s an easy apology. You could at least focus on one of the things.”

  “I’m sorry for leaving you like that, Stella. For you thinking I was dead. For, what did you say? Ruining you for anyone else.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “We had a really good thing once and you were all that kept me going during a really dark time.”

  “I’ll never be okay, Jamie. It’s your fault.”

  “I…” Jamie’s eyes glazed over with emotion, but, just as quickly, he pulled it together. “Stella. My entire life changed when I went undercover. I did things… I saw things…” This time Jamie’s eyes filled with an emotion she’d seen before—remorse, along with grief.

  “Jamie,” she whispered. She was sorry for both of them, that both of their lives had landed them sitting across from each other exchanging accusations, hating each other when they’d been happy and in love once upon a time.

  “No. This is what you wanted, right?” Jamie raised his voice, quieting her. “I lied so many times over the last five years, I don’t even know who I am any more. During the time I was under, all I remembered was my love for you; that was the one true thing that I had and no one could take it from me. Sure, I was able to fuck a lot of chicks, but they weren’t you.”

  “Oh, well I guess that makes it okay,” Stella said. “You know what I did while you were fucking all those chicks? Circling the fucking drain. I was dying on the inside because I had to live without you. I never came back from that.” Stella made sure her voice was low, hopefully low enough no one could hear what she said.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I would do anything to make you…you again. To make me, me again. Us, us again.” He was leaning in and from the outside it looked like they were having an intimate conversation.

  “Well, it’s too fucking late for that now, isn’t it? You say you love me, but the person you loved is gone. Just like the person I loved is gone. The person I loved wouldn’t have kidnapped me. I’ll never be the girl you loved again. This is all that remains.” She pointed at her scarred chest to emphasize her point. Those scars taunted her every fucking day.

  Jamie leaned in and put both elbows on the table, cradling his face and covering his eyes. He blew out a long breath and put his hands behind his head. She recognized that gesture—he was contemplating giving in. Then he looked down at her hand, her ring finger, and leaned in, reading it. She stilled.

  His mask was on when he looked up into her eyes. “Do you remember when you had my ring on this finger?” he asked, squeezing her ring finger painfully.

  She jerked her head up and down, once, in confirmation.

  He cocked his head to the side. “I wonder what happened to my ring.”

  “My ring,” she whispered.

  “What?” His voice was hard and demanding.

  “My fucking ring, Jamie,” she repeated.

  “That
was my family’s ring, Stella. Where is it?” He asked, still squeezing her ring finger. He leaned in very close, his breath hot on her cheek. “I should break your fucking finger off with this shit on it. ‘Only you.’ FUCK that. You are mine, always have been.”

  She leaned back quickly. “I honestly think you must be insane. You’ve lost your fucking mind. You left me and now, five years later, you’re saying shit like ‘you’re mine’? That’s just…” she paused. “…fucking psycho.”

  “My ring?” he asked.

  “Gone.”

  “Gone?” he repeated, his face growing harder.

  She was silent.

  “Gone?!” his voice grew louder.

  “Jamie…” she warned, “this isn’t important.”

  “It’s worth a shitload of money. It’s a fucking heirloom. That’s pretty important. What’d you do with it?”

  I hocked it to buy the gun I was going to kill you with. The thought made her smile, which pissed him off thoroughly.

  “You fucking whore—what did you do?”

  “Oh, you loved me a minute ago and now I’m a whore…hmmm…I’m not sure which I like better.” Her surliness was back.

  “MY. RING,” he demanded through clenched teeth.

  “My ring and I don’t know where it is. I was so fucking distraught after wearing it for two years after you died that I threw it in the Potomac.” The lie came easily and she knew he believed her.

  His eyes widened and he cussed under his breath. “Do you—” his voice broke off. Jamie cleared his throat.

  She broke off their eye contact and looked down at her finger, the one that reminded her who had her heart. The tattoo was permanent, not like a ring that could just be taken off. She cringed when she thought of George now; he’d kill her if he knew she was here with Jamie. She’d been honest about working with the FBI and she was going to call him and tell him about this on her way home.

  “Do you remember that night our senior year when we drove out to that field with wine and pizza?” A smile played at his lips. “We looked up at the stars all night and drank for hours, naked.”

  Stella fought the curve her mouth attempted to make. She did remember that night. He’d charmed the clothes right off her and they’d held hands and looked at the stars until the light began filtering through the clouds, their naked bodies tangled. “Best one night stand,” she barely whispered. It was their old joke about how their relationship started.

  “The fucking best,” Jamie agreed and ran his thumb across her cheek.

  She cleared her throat, leaning away from his touch and shaking off the memory. “Jamie, I can get you some money. I can’t get you all of it, but some of it,” Stella offered, hoping he would cave in and give her something, anything.

  “Fuck,” he gritted his teeth, “I’m in real trouble here.” He was sincere and there was a trace of fear in his eyes.

  “What’s going on? What did you do?”

  “I ran with the bad guys’ money.”

  “Why?”

  He rubbed both hands over his face several times. “Because I fucking bombed a federal office and shot the only woman I ever fucking loved, Stella.” His voice was low and full of turmoil.

  The thrill of victory spread through her, but she kept her face blank. “So you just ran after you shot me? You didn’t even know if I was dead or alive?”

  “I heard the reports as I was driving, but when I left? No, I didn’t know you were alive.” He was unapologetic.

  “Well, I can get you some money.” She felt sweat fall from between her breasts where the tape held the microphone in place. “Tell me why you were even there, Jamie.”

  “Fine. There were a couple of guys talking about this big job coming in, guns and drugs. I was pulled into it. We’d been in so deep with this family for so long I didn’t even think about it when I shot the guy who threatened to kill one of the brothers. I shot him and then I thought, I need out. I have to get out. How can I get out? It turns out my superior wasn’t following procedure. I had plenty of evidence to support arrests and I found out it hadn’t been given to the higher ups. All the work I’d been doing for four fucking years was for nothing. I almost lost my shit.” His voice was tense, his words rushed.

  “Oh, fuck,” she said with empathy.

  “I didn’t know what to do, so I went to the Feds. It took three weeks to get away so that no one with the family I was investigating would make me. I made up a story about how my sister was in a car accident and I needed to get to Alabama and see her in the hospital. It gave me the couple of days I needed to get to DC, talk to the ATF and then to the FBI. Then I saw you in that conference room. Fuck, Stella, I didn’t know what the hell to do. When I got back from DC, I went to your hotel. Somehow they figured something was up and when I got back, they tied me to a chair and threatened to kill me. I got out of it, but had to convince them I wasn’t the narc. I thought I could control the bomb to the front of the office and maybe I’d be able to control what they did. It didn’t quite work like I planned and I had to go through with it or I was dead.”

  She was silent.

  He looked away and took another gulp of his beer.

  “So you killed or you would’ve been killed.” Her lip twitched with the beginnings of a smile. This could be interpreted by the FBI to be pointed at the other agents he had killed in the bombing or he would’ve been killed, but she knew how he would react.

  “NO! I saw that guy trying to rape you and I reacted. I’m sorry I shot you. I’m sorry I kidnapped you. You’ll never know how sorry I am.”

  She was silent.

  “You shot me,” she whispered.

  He cocked his head in a question at the way she said it.

  “So you helped them bomb the office and then shot me?” Stella wasn’t really shocked by anything other than the fact his cover was blown when he’d gone to see her at her hotel, but she needed this to sound genuine for Harris.

  Jamie didn’t answer her question. “When can I get my money?”

  “It’ll take a few days.” Stella finished the last sip of her wine and pushed the chair out from under her. “I’ll text you when I get it.” She turned and walked toward the door.

  “Stella!” Jamie called. “You and Patrick are still friends, huh?”

  Stella didn’t look back as she pushed the door open. Walking into the night air, she smiled. Check Fucking Mate.

  She called Agent Harris as she pulled on to G Street.

  “Can we get together tomorrow?” she said as soon as he answered.

  “Stella…I don’t know what to say.” Agent Harris started. “You got him to admit to everything. How’d you do that?”

  “Doubted me, did you?” She smiled in the phone.

  “I…”

  “No worries, Agent. Just tell me I can go home. I don’t want him trailing me back to you and blowing this whole fucking thing. Tell me you got what you need and you don’t need me anymore. Tell me that you’re going arrest him.”

  “I’m going to present this to my higher up tomorrow and I’ll get back with you, but there’s no way they’ll walk away from an ATF agent that killed three other agents and shot you when we have the admission recorded. This is much better than I was expecting.”

  “I’m always underestimated. I enjoy that.”

  “Stella,” his voice was sincere, “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

  She heard people in the background talking excitedly. “Don’t be sorry. Make it count.”

  “Will do.” The phone muffled as he directed someone to do something.

  “Talk to you tomorrow, Harris.” She disconnected and called George.

  “Love?” he answered.

  “Hey, babe, you getting ready to watch my interview?”

  “Um, Love, why do you sound so…happy?”

  “Because I just got Jamie recorded saying he bombed the FBI office and shot me. And kidnapped me. I have single-handedly gotten evidence to put him in jail for multiple life
sentences.”

  “You did?”

  “I fucking did.”

  “Wow, you’re amazing. I mean it,” George congratulated. “You okay? He hurt you?”

  “Not at all.” Stella wouldn’t go through the details with George, or anyone, for that matter; it was too raw.

  “I have to go, I’m eating with Patrick and everybody before we watch the interview, but I wanted to tell you how the meeting with Jamie went.”

  “I wish you would’ve told me you were meeting with him,” George chastised, “I had no idea.”

  “Better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” she said with a lilt to her voice.

  “Love.”

  “Love,” she answered and disconnected.

  She pulled in front of her old house and got out of the car. The front door opened and Cooper bounded out. Patrick stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He had a green fleece on and black workout pants. Billy walked to the doorway and smiled over Patrick’s shoulder and waved at her. Stella nodded at them with a smile and walked right into Patrick’s open arms, into his embrace. Millie came running from their room, her eyes wide. Cooper stood in between them, his tail alternately hitting her leg and then his.

  “You okay?” Patrick almost whispered in her ear.

  She separated herself from him and looked at all of her friends. She took a few seconds and thanked God for them. “I’m fucking better than fantastic. Let’s get some alcohol flowing and then I’ll tell y’all all about it before we watch this clusterfuck of an interview.”

  Billy high-fived her and pulled her in for a hug. “Steaks are almost done.” He turned and walked toward the grill in the backyard. “I’m so proud of our little liar. I knew you’d do great!” he called over his shoulder.

  “I’m brilliant. Everyone just admit it now.” She felt elated. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so…free. She was free.

  I’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.

  They ate at the kitchen table like old times and she relayed everything that happened, withholding the conversation regarding her romantic history. Turning off and on her memories of that Jamie was difficult, but she believed what she’d said. The Jamie and Stella that were together were dead. Now, they didn’t even like each other.