If I Could Stay

by Annette K. Larsen

  He laughed then sobered as he studied me, taking in my hair, which was longer and a little lighter than when I’d left him in Cameron. “How long has it been since you were able to go by your own name?”

  “Five years and four months.”

  “Welcome back to the world, Leila.” An excited grin lit his face. “You want to see what it’s like to live in Denver?”

  A wave of happiness hit me and I had to breathe deep to calm my jittery heart. “Yeah, I do.”

  22

  WHEN I WAS released from the hospital, Jack wheeled me out to a waiting car. I wouldn’t be able to walk on my leg for a few more days, and it would take another two weeks or so to heal. Jack helped me into the car then slid into the driver’s seat. He would be driving me to the airport, where I would get on a plane and he wouldn’t. He had a case back in Denver that he had to get back to, and his captain was out of patience.

  “As soon as I can get a few days off, I’ll be coming out to see you, okay?” he said to break the silence.

  I made my mouth smile. “Okay.”

  He held up his phone. “You promise this address is real? You’re not going to disappear and make me chase you down again?”

  “Promise,” I said. “I’m not going to get lost again.”

  He looked down at my bandaged leg. “Are you going to be okay on your flight?”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” It would be interesting to actually be on a plane again. Flying with my fake IDs had been too risky, so it had been five years.

  “There’s a good chance that reporters will track you down,” he said with an apology written on his face.

  “Oh good” was my sarcastic response.

  “My advice would be to say absolutely nothing but ‘No comment.’ If you never rise to the bait, they’ll get tired of asking a lot faster.”

  “Any chance they won’t find me?”

  “I doubt it.” He grimaced.

  We talked the entire way to the airport, about what had happened, about how long my father’s trial might take. We talked about a lot of things, but it felt like we didn’t talk about anything at all.

  Because of my leg, Jack insisted on going inside with me, finding a wheelchair, and wheeling me right up to the security checkpoint. I had a brand new driver’s license, one with my actual name on it. I wished I weren’t stuck in the wheelchair so I could stand beside him and hold his hand. Instead I had to be content with him kissing me soundly in front of all the people in line before he handed me off to a TSA employee and waved goodbye.

  I really hated goodbyes.

  ***

  The FBI had been nice enough to arrange for an agent to pick me up at the Phoenix airport and drive me home. Agent Burns looked no-nonsense, but once she started talking, I knew otherwise. She told me that she had heard about what I’d done and that in her mind, the successful arrest of Julien Marchant was all because of me. It wasn’t true, but maybe I did tip the scales somehow. After all, my father had left his slew of bodyguards behind and allowed himself to be caged in on a deserted road. That wasn’t like him at all. Apparently all of his actions where I was concerned were completely irrational, and that worked in my favor.

  When we arrived at my apartment, Agent Burns helped me get up the stairs on my crutches, then left me with her card and a jaunty wave. I sank into the couch, staring around at the familiar belongings of Sage Rushworth. I couldn’t bring myself to do anything else. What could I do now? Live a normal life? It was difficult for me to believe that that option was real.

  I’d been sitting on my couch, staring at the empty space in front of me for more than half an hour, when someone knocked on my door. I contemplated not answering, but then pulled myself up on my crutches and hobbled to the door so I could at least see who it was. Before I could look through the peephole, the knock came again. “Sage!” It was Nina’s voice. “Are you in there? Your light is on.”

  I smiled weakly and pulled the door open. Both Nina and Charlie were standing there, wrapped in sweaters but no coats. Charlie had on real shoes but Nina was sporting slippers. Charlie threw herself at me, her hair attacking my face. “Are you okay? We’ve been calling and texting since you left, but you never responded.”

  I didn’t even know where my Sage phone was. Had I brought it home? Was it still in my car that Jack had sold for me while I was in the hospital? Maybe it was just at the bottom of my luggage with a dead battery.

  Nina closed the door, waiting for Charlie to detach herself before hugging me. “Is your family okay? We were really worried about you.”

  “Um.” My mind went blank as she pulled back. What could I say? I supposed I could say all sorts of things. Tell them my real name. Tell them I’d just been on a horrendous adventure involving the FBI, my criminal family, and a hospital. I shook my head and blinked, trying to get a solid thought to stick.

  “What happened to your leg?” Charlie asked, horrified.

  They helped me over to the couch and sat me down, giving each other worried looks. “Um,” I said again, but that was all I could manage. My eyes started to sting.

  “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Charlie asked, her worried eyes skimming over me, trying to solve the puzzle.

  What was wrong? “I miss Jack.” I fought my frown and blinked back the tears. “I really miss Jack.”

  “Who’s Jack?” Nina asked.

  I turned to look at her, wondering how this of all things was the issue that had taken precedence. “The guy I’m in love with.”

  They both gave an identical “Awww” of sympathy, and I ended up telling them about him. About how we’d met when he’d found me in a snowstorm, how he was a cop, how he had taken care of me, movie nights, me having to leave, the phone messages. I managed to leave out all the criminal intrigue. I was sure I would tell them all of it at some point, but tonight I just wanted to tell them about Jack.

  But of course they couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room.

  “So, what happened to your leg?”

  My answer of “I was shot” was met with cries of shock and outrage, followed by me explaining who I really was and what I’d actually been doing for the past week.

  It was a long conversation.

  ***

  The first thing that I did the next morning was to get a new phone. The next thing I did was to call Jack.

  My fingers only shook a little as I keyed in his number.

  I sat on my couch, curled over with my elbows on my knees and one hand in my hair. The other held the phone to my ear, waiting as it rang.

  His voicemail greeted me then beeped.

  I breathed deep and then spoke. “Hey, Jack. It’s Leila.” I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my lips. “It’s funny being able to say that out loud, but very satisfying. Anyway, this is my new number now.” I pulled at my hair, rallying my courage. “I should probably leave you alone so you can focus on work, but I wanted you to have my number. So, this is it. Please call and…I’ll answer.” I hesitated ending the message, irrationally afraid that he might suddenly disappear from my life. “Bye, Jack.”

  I pressed end and then set the phone on the coffee table, breathing deep while I told myself that he would call back, and that things would work out. In the meantime, I should just go about my life and get used to not having to hide anymore. Not having to run. I could just stay and live and work and play. I got myself into the kitchen to assess the food situation. No doubt I’d need to go to the store—

  My phone rang.

  I froze for the second, my hand stuck on the handle of the cupboard I had just opened. Then I limped to the living room, snatched up my phone and slid my finger to accept the call before jamming it to my ear. “Hello,” I said, breathless.

  “You answered.” He sounded genuinely surprised, even though I had told him I would.

  “Yeah,” I chuckled as happiness bubbled up and filled me to overflowing. “I can do that now.”

  “I’m glad.” I could hear the smile in his
voice. “And for the record: you should never leave me alone.”

  ***

  Jack flew into Phoenix three weeks later. The drive down to meet him at the airport was the longest of my life, and I’d made some long road trips. But sitting in my new car (acquired using my real name) watching the dashboard clock tick from one agonizing minute to another was torture. I was so close to seeing Jack again, and each second insisted on slogging by.

  The Phoenix airport was big and busy and had lots of terminals, and I got lost twice, but I was still half an hour early. I’d given myself plenty of time. It would have been simpler to just pick him up at the curb, but I couldn’t wait for that. I parked and went in to wait outside security. I distracted myself by reading some news stories on my phone, but that only lasted five minutes because several of them were about my family.

  Charlie and Nina had tried to convince me to join social media. Maybe someday, but certainly not now. So instead I pulled up a book and tried to read it. I stared at the same page for several minutes as I stood, shifting from foot to foot to avoid aggravating my newly healed leg. Then the gods smiled down on me and a text message popped up from Jack.

  Just landed. Are you here?

  Yes.

  Good. I’ll be running as soon as I manage to get off this plane.

  A patience-shattering seven minutes later, I saw him speed walking down the narrow hallway toward me. I put my fingers to my mouth and bounced on my toes, though I forced myself to stay where I was and not get any closer.

  The moment he caught sight of me, his entire face lit up, and his shoulders sagged, like a wave a relief was about to knock him over.

  I knew the feeling.

  He skirted past a couple and jogged over to me, dropping the handle of his carry-on so that he could catch me when I threw my arms around him. He picked me up off my feet for just a second before setting me down and kissing me like he was never going to stop.

  I let my purse slide off my shoulder and wrapped my arms around him, pushing my fingers into his hair and ignoring everyone around us. People could stare.

  When we finally pulled apart, Jack smiled down at me, his eyes bright and his breathing labored. “Hi, love.”

  That sounded even better than Angel. I grinned and went up on my toes to leave another quick kiss on his mouth. “Hi, Detective Trent.” I grinned. “That has a nice ring to it.”

  He chuckled. “What happened to you not liking that I’m in law enforcement?” He raised his eyebrows in challenge.

  “That went out the window about the time that you helped put my father away.”

  “Ah yes, true love is getting a girl’s father arrested.”

  I threaded my arms around his waist and snuggled into his chest. “Yeah, I’m a real catch.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “You are.” Then he sighed into my hair. “Shall we get out of here?”

  “Yes, please.”

  We both managed to pick up our bags without letting go of each other, and then we made our way out to my car, where Jack took several minutes to kiss me senseless before offering to drive. I agreed. Mostly because I couldn’t think straight.

  Once we were on the freeway, we fell into easy conversation about everything. Jack had never been to this part of the country and he enjoyed seeing the terrain turn from saguaro-strewn desert, to orange sandstone, and then to pine forest as we climbed in altitude.

  “Have you talked to Marcus anymore?” he asked when we were nearing Flagstaff.

  “Yeah.” My face relaxed into a smile. “He’s managed to call a few times and update me on how things are going. It’s going to take a while for him to extricate himself from everything he’s built, but he sounds more than ready to do it.”

  “I hope it works out for him.”

  “You and me both.”

  When we arrived at my apartment, my stomach got all nervous and fluttery. Somehow showing him a place that was truly mine, even with most everything boxed up, felt like a big step.

  He had found an apartment for me close to his in Denver. I would be enrolling in school, this time as myself. Starting a new life, living on my own terms, being with someone I loved. It was going to be beautiful.

  I let us into my apartment and offered him something to eat. We ended up standing side by side in my kitchen, making sandwiches with the few ingredients that still remained in my fridge.

  As we finished eating, a knock came at the door. Charlie and Nina let themselves in, calling out a sing-song greeting that ended abruptly when they saw Jack.

  They both stared and my heart filled with wicked pride that my man could have that effect on my friends.

  “Well, no wonder you wouldn’t let us set you up,” Charlie said as she looked Jack up and down like he was something she wanted to eat. Then she turned to me. “You could have just said something.”

  I screwed up one side of my face. “Mm, no, I couldn’t.”

  “Right.” She waved her hand like she was batting away the pesky drama of my life. “Criminal dad and fake IDs and whatnot.”

  Jack just shook his head as he tried not to laugh.

  Nina did a facepalm and shook her head at her sister’s antics then stepped forward and offered a hand to Jack. “Ignore her. I’m Nina.”

  Charlie and Nina stayed to help us pack up the rest of my things and took the opportunity, whenever Jack was out of earshot, to tease me about how Jack and I were going to get married. I just rolled my eyes.

  Maybe someday, but certainly not now. They didn’t understand how broken I still was, how much I needed to just be me before I did anything as big as getting married. Jack understood, though. Over the past three weeks, he had been endlessly supportive and left me no doubt that he loved me, but never once did he suggest we do anything but date. And now that we were together, it was just easy. Comfortable, familiar, and exhilarating. I couldn’t wait to settle into a new normal with him.

  Jack slept on the floor of my living room that night. When I woke up he had gone to the store to get muffins and coffee for us. I happily ate with him, trying not to be self-conscious in my pajama pants. When he finished, he gave me a heart-melting grin and a sweet kiss. “I’m going to start packing the car. Why don’t you finish getting ready?”

  I agreed, my cheeks feeling warmer than usual and my heart feeling drunk from the love of a good man.

  After showering, I ran over to Nina and Charlie’s place to tell them goodbye. It was strange to have friends that I would truly miss once I was gone, and even stranger to be able to say goodbye. It made me grateful that this time I would be able to keep in touch with them.

  The last thing I did before leaving my apartment for good was to stand in the middle of the empty living room and play for Jack. It was a concert for one as I played through all of my favorite pieces, not caring that I messed up here and there because the look of adoration on his face made me believe I could do anything. And thanks to him, that was true.

  I finished with a smile then turned to place my violin in its case. Just as I flipped the latches down, Jack’s hands came from behind me, resting on both of my wrists. I leaned back into his chest as his fingers trailed up my arms, then across my shoulders, moving aside my hair, which I had restored to my natural light brown. He kissed the back of my neck and I turned around, bringing my mouth to his.

  He took his time kissing me and I kissed him back. There was no impending separation, no secrets, no danger hanging over my head. He knew my name, my story, my past. He knew all of my jagged pieces. He had chosen me, and I had chosen him. This time, with him, I could stay.

  The End

  To My Readers

  Thank you for reading! I know that for some of you, this will have been a leap in genres, but I’m so glad to have loyal readers who don’t mind going on a new adventure with me.

  As an indie author, your support and feedback makes all the difference in how I judge the success of my books. Please take just a minute to leave a review for other potential rea
ders on Amazon, Goodreads or anywhere else. Word of mouth is essential for me to get the word out, so if you enjoyed reading If I Could Stay, tell a friend!

  If you would like to receive updates and have access to bonus material like deleted scenes or scenes from my heroes’ points of view, please go to my website and sign up for my newsletter (http://www.annetteklarsen.com/extras/).

  You can also follow me on Twitter (@AnnetteKLarsen), Instagram (@AnnetteKLarsen), or Facebook https://www.facebook.com/authoraklarsen.

  Happy reading!

  Annette K. Larsen

  Also by Annette K. Larsen

  Books of Dalthia series:

  Just Ella

  Missing Lily

  Saving Marilee

  Painting Rain

  Keeping Kinley

  You can find the series here:

  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B071948SVN/

  About the Author

  I was born in Utah, but I migrated to Arizona, Missouri, and Virginia before settling in Idaho.

  Though I dabbled in writing throughout school, being an author seemed like an unattainable dream. It took me seven years to write my first book, Just Ella. During that time, I taught myself how to write a novel. Not the most time effective method, but it gave me an education I wouldn’t have received from a class or a how-to book. Something about the struggle of writing without a formula or rules worked for me.

  I write clean romance because I love it. Jane Eyre is the hero of my youth and taught me that clinging to your convictions will be hard, but it will bring you more genuine happiness than giving in ever can.

  I love chocolate, Into the Woods, ocean waves, my husband, and my five littles. And I love books that leave me with a sigh of contentment.

  Acknowledgments