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Tension

Page 21

by R. L. Griffin


  Her face blushed with the memory.

  “Me too,” he said and looked away from her.

  Stella had woken up naked, the sheet twisted around her legs. Her head pounded. Rolling on her back, she stared up at the ceiling and had two thoughts simultaneously. First, holy shit, I need to do that more often. Second, holy shit, my first one night stand and he left his own house. She scanned the room for her bathing suit, the only “clothes” she had on the night before. Pulling up her bottoms, she searched the room for her top. It took a few minutes, but she finally found it behind the papasan chair in the corner. She put in on as fast as she could and opened the door quietly. Not knowing the time, she didn’t want to wake anyone. The scent of baking hit her nose and her mouth watered. She lifted her head with dignity; if it was a one night stand it was a good one and she was happy.

  Jamie looked around the corner from the kitchen, a goofy smile plastered on his face. “I’m making you pancakes.”

  Shocked, she stared at him.

  “You said last night you loved pancakes. I’m making some for you.” He grinned and ducked back into the kitchen.

  Stunned, she stood there for a minute, not really knowing what to do.

  He poked his head back out again. “Come here so I can get a kiss. I don’t want to burn these.”

  Stella salivated at the smell. Once she got into the kitchen, she noticed he’d made bacon, too. She wondered if she was still dreaming.

  “The secret is the vanilla. At least that’s what my momma says.” He wrapped his arms around her, pushed her back up against the counter, and had his way with her mouth. “Last night...” he trailed off. He dragged his hands down her sides.

  “Yeah,” she agreed.

  Jamie finally slowed the boat after what seemed like hours and Stella saw their destination. It was a small bungalow house on stilts in the middle of the water. It was totally isolated. Fuck. All the tracking devices in the world couldn’t find her here.

  Jamie pulled up to the tiny dock that led to the bungalow. “Home sweet home.”

  “How did you find this house?” Stella asked as she hopped out of the boat onto the small deck under the house.

  While he got the bags off the boat, she assessed her options. First, she knew nothing about boats or even how to start a boat. Second, even if she got the boat running, she wouldn’t know where to go. Third, the realization that she was fucked hit her like a punch to the gut.

  It was two steps to the ladder type stairs into the middle of the deck. He forced her to go up the ladder first, which made her push what looked like a trap door open into the house. Just the thought of a house with a trap door creeped her out.

  “You know my parents and I used to come to Key West all the time when I was growing up. I had some contacts in the area and they pointed me in this direction. It’s easier to go underground if you pay cash for things.” Jamie threw the two duffels onto the nearby futon. Then he reached down and pulled the trap door shut, closing them in the house.

  Once he closed the trap door, she glanced around at the multipurpose room that included the den, kitchen, and dining area. A small hallway led to what appeared to be a bedroom and bath. Everything was painted robin’s egg blue. A table with two chairs, the futon, and a television were situated in the open den area. Stella couldn’t see much of the kitchen from where she was standing and didn’t want to think about going down the hallway; she focused instead on finding anything that could be used as a weapon.

  “So,” she said, not moving. “What now?”

  “Now, we talk.” Jamie walked to the galley kitchen, pulled two glasses out of a cabinet, and opened a bottle of Honey Jack Whiskey. Pouring them each a tall glass over ice he’d gotten out of a small freezer in the corner of the kitchen, he leaned on the counter and started talking.

  “Okay,” he sighed and took a gulp of his whiskey. “About six months before we graduated, Patrick contacted me and asked if I’d be interested in being an agent for the ATF. Because I didn’t get drafted and couldn’t play baseball the way I wanted, I took it as fate. I had no idea what I was doing after graduation. My dad had offered me a job at his company, but you know I didn’t want to do that.” He took another gulp of whiskey and she could tell he’d been drinking it straight for awhile. When they were together, he was a beer guy.

  “As you know, I went to DC a couple of times and got the job. They sold me on all the bullshit about how great it would be. One of the things they leave out when they offer you the job is how lonely it is and how you’re separated from everything that you ever cared about.” His eyes looked down. “How you turn into a person you never imagined you would.”

  Stella took her drink and sat on the futon, looking out at the serene blue-green ocean that met the absurdly blue sky. Jamie walked over and sat next to her, scrutinizing her face in an attempt to see her thoughts. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t mind his nearness. She’d been wondering what the truth was since she saw him in the conference room.

  “I’ve loved you since the day I met you. You believe that, right?” Jamie waited for her response.

  Stella said nothing, staring out into the blue abyss avoiding his eyes. She kept thinking this must be one of her nightmares. Was this really happening? She couldn’t wrap her brain around where she was and hoped she’d wake up in George’s arms.

  “Well, whether you believe it or not, it’s true.” He sighed. “So...okay. A month before I graduated, I met with this guy who runs the undercover operations for the agency. He always recruits the youngest agents because they have less to hold them to their current life; less ties. He said that the mission I would be on initially would only be six months and then I could see if I liked the lifestyle. If not, I could change assignments. He did tell me that I couldn’t tell anyone. The only people who could know are spouses. So…” he hesitated. “I proposed. So I could tell you. So you would know where I was.”

  Stella turned and faced him, looking into his eyes, assessing him. His face was masked, completely devoid of emotion.

  He continued. “I agreed to the six month assignment. I thought if I could tell you I was on assignment for six months, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. When we moved into the house, I thought I had another month before I would be sent on assignment. I didn’t know that when I flew back down to Savannah I would be going off the grid.” Jamie stood up and started pacing, “I didn’t know they were going to tell my entire family that I was dead. Tell you that I had died. Patrick only told me that after about six months of me being undercover. I lost my shit then.” He examined his hands. “After I got to Savannah, I was put in a car with the guy in charge of my undercover assignment and driven to Montana for further training. He took my phone and said I couldn’t contact anyone for six months, that if I did, I would risk myself and anyone I contacted. I begged Patrick to tell you I was okay. I begged him to let you know what was really going on.”

  She blinked at him, unbelieving. Hate. Rage. Her gut felt like marbles were filling it up, the hate was choking her. Stella cleared her throat.

  “I called him every week to check on you. He was the only person who had any contact with me through the agency phone. All of my documentation was taken and I was given a new identity: Jack Ryder. Legally, they’d seen to it that Jamie Rivers was dead. I honestly didn’t know what to do. I always thought I was pretty smart. I’m not. I thought about getting in a car a million times and coming to find you. Always you…” His voice faded.

  A tear fell down her face; pissed, she wiped it away. He didn’t get to make her cry. She didn’t believe him. She couldn’t.

  “After the first six months was up, I called my designated contact and said I wanted out. He said it wasn’t possible now, that I was already in with the organization. It would put the mission at risk if I left now. The family I was assigned to infiltrate was cooking meth and moving guns and I had gained the trust of one of the sons and worked my way in. You’d never guess I was good at being a badass.
After awhile it became my nature.”

  Stella closed her eyes and shook her head back and forth, not looking at him.

  “Someone started suspecting me, not that I was an ATF agent, but that there was something I wasn’t telling them.” Jamie walked over to the kitchen and filled his glass with whiskey. “It was either him or me. I chose me.”

  He paused, took a drink, and let that sink in. “Then all hell broke loose and I couldn’t imagine ever being me again.”

  Now it was Stella’s turn to refill her drink.

  “I let it all go. Let you go.” Jamie examined her and then looked down at his drink. “When I saw you in DC, I thought I was hallucinating.”

  “Oh, Patrick didn’t tell you where I was working?”

  “He broke off all communication with me after six months. I tried to get in touch, but he changed departments and his agency phone. They took my old cell with everyone’s number in it, probably destroyed it. I didn’t have any way to get in touch with him. Nobody knows anyone’s phone number anymore.”

  Stella looked out the window again to where the clear blue sky kissed the cobalt of the ocean. So constant, the ocean and the sky. How could she trust him? Who could she trust— Patrick? Neither of them? The urge to hurl herself out the window and start swimming was intense.

  “I never meant for any of this to happen, Stella. I love you. Always will.” He drank the rest of his drink and left her sitting there, going into the other room without another word.

  She didn’t know how long she sat staring out of the window of the house, gazing into the horizon, wondering where George was and if he was okay. Pulling out a paper towel, she took a pen from the counter put it in her pocket. Stella listened for Jamie’s breathing; she realized after awhile that he was asleep. She could hear him snoring. It made sense that he was tired; he’d driven all night then drank three glasses of whiskey before he left her alone. At first, she couldn’t believe he would just leave her there, and then rage boiled throughout her body. She couldn’t believe his arrogance. He just knew that she would believe every word he told her and that she would stay here with him. Oh, how mistaken he was. Furiously, she looked around the kitchen and den for his gun and then realized he’d taken it with him.

  She pushed the door open a crack and saw him sleeping soundly, his snores as loud as ever. The gun was nowhere to be seen. Taking the three steps necessary to reach the bathroom, she relieved herself then examined her reflection in the mirror while she washed her hands. Her nose and under her eyes were violet; she had dried blood on her chin and shirt. Stella grasped the counter so tight her knuckles went white; she acknowledged that she may not be able to shoot him, even if she had a gun. Certain portions of her psyche were breaking down; she’d been working for months toward one goal—killing Jamie. Fuck. She finally had the opportunity and she couldn’t do it. SHE COULDN’T DO IT! WHY COULDN’T SHE DO IT?

  She’d dreamed of killing him many times, but yet here she was, five feet from him and not doing it. Stella bent over the counter and wrote him a letter on the paper towel. She smiled when she finished, picked up the boat keys, checked a few cabinets grabbed the car keys from the counter, and quietly made her way down the stairs to the boat. Jamie used to be such a sound sleeper; she hoped he still was.

  The water was calm around her and she hoped it’d stay that way. It was late and the sun would be setting soon. She inserted the key and thankfully the boat cranked right up. That was easy enough. Stella threw the boat into reverse; she reversed longer than necessary, but then pushed the throttle and attempted to head in the direction they’d come from earlier. She never looked back.

  Jamie startled awake, thinking he’d heard something. Still groggy from only being asleep an hour or so, he stumbled into the main room. His eyes widened at her absence. Then he realized what woke him and looked out the front of the house only to see her, in the boat, heading back the way they came. She didn’t even look back. He sat down on the futon, simmering in the betrayal. He’d underestimated her. Again. He was stranded. Walking over to the counter, he poured himself another glass of whiskey and noticed the writing on the paper towel.

  You must think I’m a fucking idiot. I’m not. You better be glad I couldn’t find your gun. I want you dead. I’m leaving you here. Don’t contact me again. If you do, I’ll bring the entire force of the FBI on not only you, but your Momma, too. What vain prick is on the run but still gets their Momma to get them clementine soap? Your Momma will be caught up in all this, too. Oh, and don’t get me started on Sara. You better fucking disappear and fast. You want to know why? I have a locator on my person that I activated the minute I woke up, you asshole. I’m not the naive little girl you left behind. I get wind of you again and you’re done. Your family, too. TRY ME! PLEASE!

  Jamie furiously opened the cabinet under the kitchen sink and sunk to his knees when he saw that the bag was gone. As if in slow motion, he shuffled to the bathroom to throw up, but stopped when he was overwhelmed by the scent of clementines. Stella had emptied every single bottle of shower gel his mother had sent him and left the bottles in a heap.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Cavalry Charge

  Stella had no idea where she was or where she was going, but she felt free. More free than she’d ever felt in her life; the wind blowing her hair all around her as she glided over the water. Her thoughts were of her future, unencumbered by him. Jamie was out of her life, period. She no longer mourned him, but she also didn’t have to deal with him anymore. Her threat, in which she was more than willingly to follow through, would be enough to keep him away from her. Forever. She glanced at the leather bag at her feet. Smiling, she was glad she thought to look around a bit before she left.

  Obviously, she’d underestimated how easy it would be to find his car. After being in the boat for over an hour, she realized that she was lost. She kept the road to her left and searched for the little alcove where they’d parked. Instead of seeing the car, she ran smack into a marina. Stella sighed, still feeling the rush of being free. The sign said “idle the engine” and she really didn’t know how to do that, but assumed it would be similar with a car and took her hand off the throttle. The boat let up immediately and started drifting. She saw a few weathered men sitting on the dock; she didn’t even know what time it was, but it was almost dark.

  “Ease up there!” one of the men called out.

  “I don’t know how!” she yelled.

  “What do you mean?” another one yelled.

  “I don’t know how to drive this thing...” Stella braced herself as she tried to steer the boat into a slip, but missed.

  The younger man ran to the end of the dock where the boat had bounced off and was drifting back to sea.

  “Okay, use the throttle to come back this way and I’ll jump on!” the guy called from the dock.

  Stella did as he told her. When he jumped onto the boat, he looked at her. “Oh shit, are you okay?” he asked sincerely.

  Her smile was genuine. “I am now.”

  The guy pulled the boat in the slip and tied it to the dock. “Whose boat is this?”

  She shook her head and she got off the boat. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Well, I have to know who to charge for the time at the dock.”

  “You can have it.” Stella said as she pulled some money out of the leather bag that she took from Jamie’s house. She stuffed a couple of bills into the man’s hand. She ungracefully jumped onto the dock and hoped the feeling of rocking up and down would stop. It didn’t. “You have a phone?” she asked the guy.

  “Um, yes.” The guy pulled a phone out of his pocket.

  She dialed a number and listened. A smile broke out on her bruised face.

  “I’m okay. I’m at...” Stella remembered they’d past over the Seven Mile Bridge, but she didn’t know her exact location. “We passed Islamorada and the Seven Mile Bridge, hold on...”

  She looked over at the man who’d just pulled the boat in the slip. �
��Where am I?”

  “Geiger Key Marina,” he answered.

  “Geiger Key Marina,” she repeated into the phone. “I’ll wait. It looks like there’s a pub here and I’m starving.”

  Stella listened again.

  “I’m okay. I love you.”

  She hung up.

  The three men were staring at her. She smiled at them. “Thank you so much. You saved my life.”

  One of the older men spoke to her after taking a drink of his beer. “Whose boat is that?”

  Ignoring the question, Stella pointed at the beer in the cooler. “Hey, can I get one of those?”

  “Sure, you look like you could use one,” he replied, opening the cooler.

  “Thanks.” She walked over to where he was sitting, sat down on the dock next to the him, and popped open the can of beer. “My ex’s boat.”

  “Where’s he?”

  She shrugged.

  “Hmmmm,” said the younger guy. “I can’t take a stolen boat.”

  “It’s not stolen,” she said after drinking the entire can of beer in a couple of gulps.

  “Damn, girl,” the older man said, pulling out another beer.

  “You can’t even fathom the day I’ve had.” She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. She had blood on her shirt and her face was swollen blue and purple from her broken nose. Her hair was so matted and tangled she couldn’t even run her fingers through it.

  “No, I imagine we couldn’t,” one of the men answered.

  “I’m Roy and this here is Jim. That young ‘un over there that helped with the boat is Dennis.” He held his hand out to her.

  “Stella,” she answered shaking his hand. “It is truly awesome to meet you.”

  She looked up at the sky and took in a huge breath. She was really alive. She didn’t think she would be alive after she blacked out at the bar. The hardness that had been building inside of her for so long broke free all of a sudden and she began to cry. Not sobbing or embarrassing herself, but silent tears fell endless down her face as she drank her second beer.

 

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