“Julio, did I drop my earphones?” I yell at him as I jog to catch up.
“I remember seeing them on the counter before we left. Did you forget to grab them?” he shouts behind his shoulder, his words taking me back to the thought of when I placed them there to fill my water bottle before we left.
Crap, I did forget to grab them.
Julio sees the disappointment registering on my face. “Did you want to go back and get them?”
I shake my head. “No. I can’t risk wasting any more time. I guess I’ll have to run without them,” I inform him, already dreading the idea.
Julio is used to running and riding without them. He prefers not to be distracted so he can stay focused on our surroundings, for my safety. I continue my usual slow jog to warm up, but within minutes I pick up my speed. I glance down at my watch to take in my pace time when I grow bored and notice it’s only been two minutes that have passed. That’s it? I think to myself, two lousy minutes, but I keep running.
Taking in the view, it helps, but not as much as I would have hoped it would. How the hell do people claim it’s more relaxing and beneficial to run without music? Looking down at my watch again, it now says eight minutes and I still haven’t found this so called Zen runners claim to find within seconds. Running without music is not going to cut it. Lesson learned, buy an extra set of earphones to keep in the car for these circumstances.
I glance over at Julio who isn’t affected from the lack of music. “How the hell do you do it?” I question him, earning me a confused look. “Do that without music? I think I’m going insane. How the hell am I going to make it an hour?”
He gives me a chuckle. “How about we talk? It can help distract you,” he suggests.
“Fine,” I say, sucking in a deep breath. It’s more of a sigh, but being that I’m running, it’s how it comes out. Feeling the need to begin with the conversation, I hesitantly ask, “So why don’t you have a girlfriend?” I’m hoping he doesn’t become offended with the question, but I’m nosey and I’ve always wanted to know.
I don’t know much about Julio, but strangely I want to know. He’s never mentioned anything about his personal life before, but I always thought it was because of the whole “being a bodyguard” thing.
“Watching the drama that occurs between you and Mateo is enough for me to not want to have one,” he states with a chuckle. I whip my head in his direction to stare daggers at him. At this point I’m debating if I can shove him off his bike because of the comment. When he notices my reaction, he lets out a full-hearted laugh. “I’m kidding, Abigail. I can tell from watching the two of you that you’re still in love. It’s something worth fighting for. That wasn’t the situation with my ex-wife,” he adds, shocking me out of step.
I quickly try to recover to keep from stumbling, my jaw still hanging near the ground as I look at him. “What do you mean ex-wife?”
Giving me a simple nod, he explains. “I was married once. Biggest regret of my life,” he states. If I weren’t already shocked, I’d be now. “Why would you say that?” I ask, it comes out sounding just as shocked as my expression is most likely conveying.
He laughs at my expression before starting. “We met through mutual friends. She was great at first, friendly and upbeat. We started dating soon after we met. Not a year later I proposed. I should have known from the wedding alone how our marriage would play out. I wanted something simple, but she had me blow all my life savings to pay for the wedding. After the honeymoon, when I couldn’t buy her a house, she threw a fit,” he states. I’m still looking ahead, but the image of what he’s portraying is making me feel sorry for him.
He continues on. “Her family and friends had a large influence on her decisions. To them I was a lowlife asshole because I couldn’t provide for her the way she wanted, yet I had a good paying job and she chose to live the life of a housewife,” he takes a pause in his story so he can maneuver around a tree stump, but I’m left pondering his words.
“So was that the reason why you got divorced? Because you couldn’t buy her a house?”
“No, that came three years later when I had gotten a job offer I couldn’t resist turning down. Growing up, my dream was to always work for the Secret Service, which is something I think I would have accomplished had I not given up on it. Before I moved up here I lived in San Antonio. I had made it my goal to follow my dream.”
“You’re from San Antonio?”
He shakes his head. “No, I was born and raised here in Portland. My ex-wife is from San Antonio. I ended up there because it’s the first job I got offered after the police academy,” he explains. “I met her, fell in love, and married her. It wasn’t until after tying the knot that her true colors came out. She was selfish,” he adds.
“I had secretly applied for a position without telling her. I did it because I didn’t want to get my own hopes up. She knew my dreams, but I guess she wasn’t as supportive as I thought she would be. When I got offered the position, she refused to move, stating that our life and family were in San Antonio. She demanded I turn the job down, but I didn’t. I followed my heart and took the job. I’d hoped she would change her mind, but of course she didn’t. To punish me she maxed out our credit cards, completely wiping out our savings, and even went as far as refusing to pay my car, which eventually got repossessed,” he adds, with a heavy sigh. I feel so sorry for him at this point. “That was the finishing point for me. I filed for a divorce right away.”
“Is that why you were working a dead end job when I found you?” I ask. He responds with a simple nod. “I had to eventually file bankruptcy. The government does periodic credit checks and they want you squeaky clean. I was going to be forced to resign after I filed bankruptcy. After I had filed for the divorce they were doing layoffs, it was almost a blessing in disguise. I made the decision to move back to Portland and my mom offered for me to move back in. I’m still trying to recover my credit, but at least she’s no longer a burden to me,” he adds, his voice dropping low as if he’s saddened by the declaration when he finishes, almost sounding relieved from the declaration, and can’t I blame him.
We both continue running, our silence growing heavy throughout the fog that we are moving through. “You probably think I’m an asshole like her mother and family label me.” I look at him shocked. How can he think that? But then again, of course he would think that about himself if that were all he’s been hearing since he married her. “Not at all, Julio,” I reply. “You made the right decision in my eyes by divorcing her. She was only thinking of herself. As you stated, she wasn’t working, so she could have easily moved to wherever your dream took you. If she couldn’t see it that way, then she didn’t deserve you. It’s her loss,” I admit before adding, “And no, you’re not an asshole. You look scary, but you’re definitely not an asshole,” I tell him, earning me another laugh.
“In a way, I understand what you went through. You have to remember I had an embezzling fiancé. It’s not the same, but it’s similar. She took what was yours without your permission. So you have every right to be angry,” I proclaim.
It earns me a curt nod of approval. “What’s going on with the whole Bill thing if you don’t mind me asking?” Julio’s curiously asks. The question came out sounding restrained, as if he was fearful of asking the question, but still wanted to know.
I sigh before I answer. “I don’t’ know,” I tell him around the lump in my throat.
It’s terrifying not having an answer. I had hoped to put that chapter of life behind me, never having to open the book again and read the words, but I was wrong.
I’m so lost in my thoughts, my attention of the trail has lapsed and my foot sinks into a pothole. I feel the sharp pain stabbing at my ankle, shooting straight up my leg as I stumble to the ground. I try to stop my fall, but it’s unsuccessful as my hands meet the ground, feeling as if they are being stabbed as well. I roll to my side, grabbing onto my right foot, which feels like it’s on fire.
�
�Abigail, you alright?” Julio frantically asks, already at my side assessing my foot. I’m forcefully containing the scream that wants to be let out as I take deep, long breaths. “Where does it hurt the most?” he asks, already grabbing onto the foot that’s within my hands.
“Abigail, I know this is going to hurt, but I have to get your shoe off to see how bad it is,” his expression looking frightful to try. “It’s the only way,” he explains. The process shoots another joint of pain up my leg and I cannot hold it in anymore as I let out the bellowed scream I was holding in. It hurts to damn much.
He’s already untying the shoelaces and he looks at me for permission to remove it. I give him a short nod as I suck in a deep breath for courage. When he pulls it off, the sharp pain travels up my legs again this time feeling as if somebody has pounded me with a hammer from the bottom of my foot, forcing the pain to travel up my leg. He removes my sock as well and I can already see it turning all shades of purple and it looks double the size of what it normally would, making me cry.
Julio looks around before he places my foot on the ground. “There is no way you can walk back to the car. I’m going to have to ride back and drive it up as close as I can to the path. I’ll carry you the rest of the way,” he instructs me.
“Okay,” I whisper through the pain, hoping he’s heard me.
Standing to take off his jacket, he wraps it around my shoulders. “Your body will go into shock any minute. The jacket will help keep you warm. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he says looking around. “You’re off the path, so you should be safe here. You have your phone with you, right?” he asks. He’s looking at me as if he’s waiting for me to show him that I do. I reach inside my own pocket of my jacket and show him. He nods his head. “Call Mateo,” he instructs. “I want you to stay on the phone with someone while I go retrieve the car,” he orders.
I proceed to call Matt, but he doesn’t answer. I try again, but this time it goes straight to voicemail, making me sob into the phone from the disappointment of him not answering. I don’t say anything. What is there to say when you’re speaking to an automatic machine? I hang up and shoot him a quick text, so he doesn’t worry about my silent message. When done, I call the next person I can think of—Trey.
He answers immediately, and when Julio confirms he’s on the phone, he speeds off on the bike, leaving me to have a conversation with Trey. It isn’t the person I would have preferred to speak with, but he does the job well in calming me by making me laugh. Now if only Julio would hurry up because now that I’m growing cold I realize, I really have to pee.
I KNOCK AGAIN, and wait, which is causing me to grow impatient. I should have called before showing up on Kelly’s front door, but I wanted to surprise Abigail. The door opens and instead of it being Abigail as I’d hoped, it was Kelly.
“Whatcha want, lover boy?” she annoyingly asks. She has her eyes narrowing at me, as she stands guarding the door. I gently push past her, my eyes searching for Abigail. “She’s not here,” Kelly states behind me.
Turning to face her, she has her arms angrily crossed over her chest. “Where is she?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I just got home a little bit ago. Maybe she’s out with her Sancho. If you can have someone on the side, why can’t she?” she sarcastically states as her lips curve up to one side.
Sancho, my ass. She is not having a Sancho over my dead body. More likely his, since I’d be killing any fucker that gets near her. “I don’t have anyone on the side,” I respond, marching my way back to Trey’s Jeep.
Climbing in, I dig for my phone and notice the icon reminding me Abigail had left a message. I press on the screen making it play. Instead of hearing Abigail speaking, I hear whimpering on the other end before the call ends. Unbelieving of what I heard, I replay the message, hearing the exact same thing. When I play it for the third time, I finally comprehend what the whimpering is. It’s Abigail crying, and once again the blood drains to my toes. Without hesitating, I dial her number and it goes straight to voicemail. I try Julio, but the same happens with his number. I’m left sitting there numb, unable to move from the worry rising inside of me.
My mind goes to a hundred different scenarios of why she could have been crying. Was she kidnapped? Did Bill find her again? The thought of knowing she is somewhere out there and I ignored her call is gnawing at my gut. Why did I allow myself to ignore her phone call? I should have taken it instead of wasting my time with Lisa.
With the worry still inside of me, I try calling her again, and still I get no answer. My worry has now turned to panic. Climbing out of the Jeep, I head straight back to Kelly’s door, pounding on it this time as I demand she open it. She swings the door open, looking angry. “Has she called you at all today?” I frantically bellow out, making her eyes go wide.
“No, why?”
“She called me when I was at Lisa doctor’s appointment, but I had to ignore her call. She left a voicemail, but she was crying, and now she won’t answer her phone,” I reply, the panic taking over my voice. Kelly’s eyes go wide in shock before she glances down at her phone, shaking her head in response as she pushes on the screen before bringing it up to her ear. “It goes straight to voicemail,” she states, swallowing hard before pressing on the screen of her phone again.
“If you’re trying to call Julio, I tried that too,” I tell her, her body slumping, as she looks up at me, frantic. “What did he say?” she desperately asks.
“He didn’t answer either. She knows not to go anywhere without him, right?”
She nods her head. “Yes,” she replies biting her lip, her gaze wondering to the side, as if she’s thinking. Then her eyes light up before she walks over to the kitchen, leaving me to follow her. “She printed out this schedule a couple of days ago,” she says, her finger going to a chart that is being held up by a magnet on the fridge. Her index finder glides down it and when I take it in. I know exactly what it is; it’s a running schedule. Kelly’s finger stops on a specific day, today’s date, and it states sixteen miles.
“What route was she taking?” I ask, as she turns to face me.
“I don’t know,” she squeals out. “I’m not into that running shit like you guys!” she panicky shouts.
Her answer doesn’t leave me satisfied, but I know it’s all she’s got. I search my mind, thinking of all the places she could have gone, but being that it’s Portland, she can be anywhere in the city. They have trails everywhere.
I rake my hand down my face, growing frustrated again. Kelly starts punching buttons on her phone again before speaking into it. “Hey douche, have you heard from Abigail?” her eyes locking onto mine when she asks.
I already know she’s talking to Trey. He’s the only one she calls by that name most of the time. Her eyes light up and I get a hint of hope that he might know, and she confirms it when she nods her head at me with a smile. I yank the phone from Kelly’s hear, earning me a scowl, but I don’t care. “Where is she? Is she in danger?” I bark into the phone.
“Dude, calm the fuck down, she’s at the hospital,” he casually replies as if it’s no big deal. How the fuck can he think it’s no big deal? “What’s wrong with her? Is she okay? What hospital is she at?” I blurt out to him, knowing it’s probably more questions than he can focus on at once, but I need to know.
“Hell if I know,” he answers.
I swear to God, if he were standing in front of me I would shove him against a wall or pound his face in right now. “She was running and got hurt. Julio was taking her to the hospital. She was screaming and crying in the background that she didn’t want to go. She said she’d call me when she left,” he adds.
“How long ago was that?”
“I don’t know, like maybe half an hour, maybe an hour.”
Looking at the clock on the wall, it’s the exact time she called me and I didn’t answer, making me feel guilty. I was off dealing with a liar when my girl needed me the most and I couldn’t be there for her. Handing the ph
one back to Kelly, I sternly look at her. “If she calls you, call me,” I demand to her.
“Of course.”
Walking out of the door again, I run to the Jeep, speeding off. My heart is racing and I cannot help but to feel like the biggest asshole in the world all over again. I promised to always be there when she needed me and yet again I’m breaking that promise because of my fucking dick. No more, it has to stop, and it will. For now I need to find Abigail before I go insane.
“ARE YOU SURE you don’t want me to return his phone calls?” Julio hesitantly asks for what seems like the hundredth time since we’ve arrived at the hospital.
“No,” I quietly reply, watching as his lips go flat, his normal reaction to my answer. I can tell by the way he’s deliberately looking between me and his phone, he wants to call him.
My body begins to shiver again. “You cold? You want me to request another blanket from them?”
Shaking my head, I try to bring the shivers under control. I’m not cold. I just hate hospitals. I haven’t been able to get the nervousness of being here under control; the memories of the last two visits are making me petrified. In all reality, I’m wishing Matt were here with me, but when Trey told me he was with Lisa at her doctor’s appointment, I knew I could not bother him anymore.
My body shivers again and the desire to have him at my side wins. “Fine, call him,” I bitterly reply before I throw my body back to lean against the hospital bed. Bringing the sheet up to my chin, I watch as Julio’s lips turn up to one side as he starts dialing Matt’s number, making me roll my eyes. Within seconds he’s conversing with him, giving him details of which hospital we’re at.
“He’s on his way,” he states, hanging up the phone.
Sighing, I wait.
It isn’t long before Matt is pushing the door to my exam room open, his lean tall body staring back at me. His expression is both full of relief and despair. Rushing to my side, he immediately places a kiss upon my temple as he cradles my head within both his palms, his lips lingering upon my brow.
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