by K. C. Crowne
“I did feel it,” she admitted. “I really did but...”
She turned to me and leaned over to take my hand.
“I'm just out of a relationship. And a terrible one at that. And I'm not going to be around for much longer, Jared. The timing's just all wrong.”
She pulled away and looked sadly up at her house.
“Do you not want to see if we could make it work?” I asked.
She shook her head and brushed the hair from her eyes before sliding her seat belt over herself.
“I can't,” she said. “I really like you, Jared. I like you a whole lot, but it just won't work.”
"Jesus, who fucking died?" Jackson asked as I entered the office and slumped into my chair. "You look miserable as shit."
"I'm fine," I lied.
"Really?" Lucas asked from his desk with a raised eyebrow. "For the first time ever, I just heard you enter the office without singing some cheesy, crappy song."
I wasn't much in the mood for singing. All I could think about was Megan's words. It just won’t work.
How could she know that for certain?
What we’d shared the night before was so real, so intense. There was no way she could just pass that off as one night of fun.
"Hey, buddy? You okay?" Dylan asked as he emerged from the kitchen with a protein shake. "What's with the long face?"
"I'm just tired," I repeated, although I could tell nobody bought it.
"Are you sure? You don't look like yourself. You're frowning like a bulldog."
"I'm fine!" I insisted. "And surely there's more interesting shit going on around here than what dog I most closely resemble."
"Actually, there is," Lucas said, rising from his seat. "I was waiting until you all got here before I shared the news. A call came in early this morning from Sebastian, the Halloween festival organizer about the Red Cherry gig."
Jackson almost exploded, his eyes growing wide like saucers.
"Please tell me what I hope to God you're going to tell me."
"If you're hoping I'm going to say we've been asked to cover their security then you're right."
"Yass!" Jackson fist pumped. "Finally, a fun gig that won’t end in murder and mayhem."
"Seriously!" I asked, suddenly perking up.
"Yup," Lucas grinned. "Apparently their guitarist Marcus has a stalker, and by the sounds of it they're a real scary motherfucker. They've been breaking into his hotel rooms, hiding in his bathroom, and sending all sorts of weird shit in the mail to his home. Even turned up at his mother's house."
"Wow, that’s pretty ballsy," I said.
"Exactly. Anyway, that's why they're really ramping up the security for the gig," Lucas explained. "Which suits me just fine. Imagine us four knuckleheads getting to knock back a few beers with THE Red Cherry. How fucking wild is that?"
For a brief moment, I forgot about Megan, and thought only of meeting my childhood idols. I felt about fourteen years old as I thought about getting their autograph.
"But that's not everything," Lucas continued. "The organizers of the festival want us to do security for their family friendly afternoon segment as well."
"They still do that?" Dylan asked as he walked over to the weights in the corner of the office. "I thought people were getting bored of all that schmaltzy stuff."
"Apparently not," Lucas said. "This year they're getting in Senator Ogilvy to give a Bible reading and-"
"Senator Ogilvy?" I interrupted, rising from my seat.
"Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?"
Jackson and I exchanged panicked glances then looked back to Lucas's inquisitive face.
"I know him," I replied. "Or at least I used to."
"Is that going to be a problem?"
"Nah it won't," Jackson chimed in. "He hasn't seen him in years. Probably won't even recognize you. Will he, Jared?"
"Probably not," I hoped. "Not seen him since I was nineteen."
Lucas was staring at me intently, his eyes narrowing. As he lowered himself back into his seat, he picked at his fingernails and asked, "How do you know the Senator?"
I breathed out a long exhale and leaned back in my seat, staring up at the ceiling.
Just tell him, I thought. He's going to find out eventually.
"I used to date his daughter." "Oh shit!" Dylan called out from the corner of the room as he cackled like a hyena. "Please don't tell me you did her dirty."
"I didn't," I replied.
"Then it won't be a problem," Lucas concluded. "It was years ago, right?"
I nodded.
"It'll be no big deal," he said. "I'm sure it's all water under the bridge."
But I knew it most definitely wasn't.
"What you up to?" Dylan asked, looking over my shoulder as he crunched on a pack of peanuts.
" You know the old dude, Burt Phillips who lives over on Barrach Street?"
"The retired lawyer?"
"Yeah."
"Christ, I didn't even know he was still alive."
"He's still kicking it at ninety-three," I replied. "Anyway, he got his security guard to send in some CCTV footage this morning."
"Why us?" Dylan asked as he popped peanuts between his teeth. "Why not the cops?"
"His exact words were, ‘you boys will know what to do. Those damn cops are too soft nowadays’. Anyway, he's convinced someone's been sneaking around his house at night."
"Burglars scoping the place out?" Dylan suggested. "I drive past his house on my way in the morning. It's a mammoth of a house. Secluded too. And an old guy living there all alone is an easy target."
"Yeah, probably something like that. But I can't see much from the footage. His cameras are pretty old so I can't tell if I'm looking at a burglar, a fox, a ghost, or a just some dust particles."
Dylan leaned in closer and stared into the screen.
"Wow, that really is a shitty camera. The footage looks like it's been taken in a blizzard."
"To be honest, I doubt we'll find anything. But I suppose I'll keep looking. What are you up to, though? Please tell me it's more exciting than this."
He grinned and pulled up a seat.
"Actually, I came in to get the deets on the Senator's daughter. Did you really date her?"
Fuck. I knew no one would just let this lie.
"Yeah, I dated her for three years. We went to the same high school."
"And?"
"And that's it."
But that wasn't it. And Dylan knew I was hiding something.
"So you were childhood sweethearts," he said tipping his head back to get the last of the peanut dust into his mouth. "Ogilvy's not gonna care about that."
" It's not as simple as that."
Dylan balled up the empty bag and tossed it into the trash.
"Wait. Don't tell me you got her pregnant" he said.
"No! No. It was nothing like that."
"Then what was it?"
I could see the concern in his eyes, and I knew that he genuinely cared and wanted to know. And if I couldn't trust Dylan, a member of my own team, with the details of what happened, then who could I trust?
Taking a deep breath, I wheeled my chair away from my desk and held my head in my hands. I had buried the story deep down inside me for so long, but I should have guessed it would resurface at some point. I knew I couldn't keep it a secret forever.
"Her name was Marie." I began. "And she died."
A stunned silence hung thick between us as Dylan took it in.
"Aw, buddy," he said, leaning over to pat my back. "I'm so sorry. What happened?"
"She... Fuck, I haven't talked about this in so long. Not even to Jackson."
And out of nowhere, I was reliving that day when I was nineteen and standing beside her coffin, tears streaming down my face and her mother's cries echoing throughout the church.
"She overdosed," I said.
Dylan reeled back in his seat, shocked.
"Fuck, buddy. That's heavy. How come you never to
ld any of us?"
"Because I was just a kid when it happened. It fucked me up. It was one of the reasons why I joined the Navy when I did. I just needed to get away from the pain, from the memories."
I could tell Dylan didn't know what to say and just hung his head solemnly.
"She wasn't a junkie or nothing like that," I explained. "She was a really, sweet, honest, God-fearing girl. She was pretty much the most innocent person I'd ever met in my whole life."
"So how did she get involved in drugs?"
"A skiing accident," I said. "She broke her right leg and her pelvis in three places. She was in agony, obviously, so the docs put her on serious pain meds. The kind that really knock you out."
"Opiates," Dylan nodded. "I've known a fair few vets addicted to those too."
"It was just too easy for her to rely on them," I said. "And suddenly they stopped working like they used to, and she had to take more and more. Then when she couldn't get prescribed anymore, she turned to local dealers for cheaper, stronger pills. In a matter of months, she went from high flying student with a place promised for her at an Ivy League college to a zombie. She quit school, quit everything."
I could feel my throat close up and swallowed down the sadness. I had shed so many tears for her all those years ago, I wasn't going to open the floodgates again.
"When I got the call from her mother to say they'd found her dead in her room, I just about collapsed from the shock. I knew she was in trouble, but I had no idea just how deep she was in. I had tried to help her so many times, but I guess I should have tried harder. "
"Don't," Dylan said. "Don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault. You didn’t give her the pills or encourage her to take them."
"But her father never saw it that way. He blamed me. Said it was me who got his little girl hooked on drugs. But I had never so much as smoked a cigarette before. I wouldn't even have known where to score pills if my life depended on it."
"He blamed you, so he didn't have to blame himself," Dylan said. "Because he can't process that his baby girl was in trouble, and he couldn't save her."
"I suppose you're right," I said, remembering the look in his eyes at her funeral. Remembering the way he had looked at me with such anger. "You made her a junkie," he'd spat at me. "It was you who did this to her."
But no amount of pleading could convince him that I had nothing to do with her death. I had begged her to get help as much as he did.
"I think you're right," I told Dylan. "He could have stopped her buying the pills, sent her to rehab, cut up her credit cards. Anything. But he didn't. He was far too focused on his career to give a shit about his kids. He barely even noticed her. Not until it was too late."
The two of us sat in silence for a second. In the distance, we could hear Lucas and Jackson laughing as they lifted weights, the music blaring out from the TV behind them.
"I don't know what he'd do if he saw me at the festival," I said.
"Maybe he's come to terms with it all. Hopefully with time he's learned it was no one's fault."
"Yeah, maybe... But I doubt it."
I looked down at Lucas and Jackson who were in a competition to see who could perform the most squats.
"I'm going to have to tell Lucas," I said. "I don't want my past jeopardizing our jobs."
"He'll understand," Dylan replied with a brotherly smile and a slap on the back. "We all do."
"Thanks. I don't know what I did to deserve you lot."
"You're one of the life's rare good guys," he said. "Now come on. How many squats do you reckon you can do?"
Megan
“I think your boy stood me up,” my coworker, Maggie said.
“He’s not my boy,” I replied with a little more irritation than I should have.
Maggie just laughed. “Sure. You just tossed a good-looking hero at me for no good reason.”
I looked up at the clock and drummed my fingers along the desk. It was five past eleven already, and Jared should have arrived five minutes ago. If anything, I was expecting him to arrive early. But over the last few days since I'd seen him last, I'd not heard a thing from him. Hadn't so much as got a text.
I guess he really did get the hint when I told him I wasn't interested in a relationship, but I hoped he hadn't given up on me entirely. We were having fun. And that one night we'd spent together had been a phenomenal night. He was right when he said there was something between us.
Seeing that she wasn’t going to get a rise out of me, Maggie walked back to her desk to work on treatment notes from her last patient. As it rolled around to ten past eleven, I ventured out into the waiting room where Lucy, to my surprise, was actually working, filing away appointment cards.
"Quiet morning?" she asked without looking up.
"No, just needed to stretch my legs," I lied.
She looked at me like she didn’t quite believe me, but then shrugged and went back to what she was doing.
"So," I said, trying to make conversation. "How was your date with Dr. Curtis?"
"Oh God don't go there. The guy's a creep!"
"Really? I can't imagine that."
“Ugh, don’t try. It was pretty awful.” She looked up at her computer screen and then glanced at me with a knowing smile on her face.
“You didn’t come out here to gossip with me about my date, you’re looking for Jared.”
“No,” I said. “He’s not even my patient anymore. I just needed to stretch is all.”
She looked at me liked she didn’t believe a word out of my mouth. “And why would you pass him over to Maggie?” she asked, her eyes widening with each word.
“I should get back to my notes,” I said, walking away quickly before Lucy saw the answer written all over my face.
I couldn't help but get a sinking feeling as I walked away back into my office. Before he had turned up out the blue when he didn't even have an appointment!
As I slumped back into my seat, I had the strongest feeling that it had officially come to an end between us two, and it was my fault.
Fuck, I shouldn't have been so harsh with him the other day. I shouldn't have made things so final. He's probably moved onto someone else already.
"Fuck 'em," I said to myself as I jumped back off the chair and paced the floor. "I don't need men anyway. They're all nothing but drama."
But I knew I was just lying to myself. As much as I tried to tell myself it wasn't the right time for a relationship, that I wasn't interested in men, I knew Jared wasn't like everyone else. He was something special, and that one night we'd shared was more than just a good time. There was real magic between us. A simmering, sensual, electric energy. It felt like I was reaching the heights of pure pleasure for the first time. And that in itself, scared the shit out of me.
When the clock reached half past eleven, and I knew there was no way he was turning up now, I left my office once again in search of a coffee, but before I could reach the kitchen, Lucy's voice pierced my head.
"Megan!" she squealed.
“What is it?” I asked. She was looking at her phone, reading something that had caught her attention. " The guy that shot Jared. You know, the Mafia guy?"
"Yeah. What about him?"
"He escaped from prison last night. It's all over the news. Look."
She thrust her phone at me where a mugshot of Mario Gianni filled the screen along with the headline - Mob boss escapes in daredevil breakout. Whereabouts unknown.
"Maybe that's why Jared didn’t show for his appointment," she said.
"Shit. That guy is super bad news.”
"What if he comes back to Station Springs?"
"Why would he do that?"
"I dunno," Lucy shrugged. "Maybe to get revenge on the people that put him in prison?"
"I doubt he’d risk getting caught again to do that."
But as I said it, it suddenly seemed like a plausible idea.
"Don't be worried," Lucy said.
"Worried? About Mario Gianni?"
>
"No, about Jared. He'll be fine. He’s a badass."
"I'm not worried about Jared."
She gave me her little Miss Know-It-All look and tapped her fingernails along the desk.
"You don't fool me," she said. "I know you’re half in love with him."
"In love with him?" I snorted. "I don't think so."
"Well I do. Because if he'd saved my ass from a psycho ex-boyfriend more than once, I'd be in love with him too."
I laughed and walked away back toward the kitchen.
"You need to stop reading so many romance novels," I laughed.
But the more I thought about it, the more I started to wonder.
“No, it can't be,” I whispered to myself, dismissing the idea. “It was just amazing sex. Nothing else.”
Jared
I still couldn't believe it. I'd read the article over ten times since the news broke of Gianni’s escape, but it wouldn't sink in.
"How?" I asked the room.
We were all in shock, all of us scanning every news article we could find to learn more.
"It shouldn’t have happened," Lucas said.
"But it did. It says right here. At five this morning, guards went to check his cell and found it empty."
Jackson, unable to stand still, was walking up and down the length of the office wringing his hands.
"What incompetent asshole let this happen?" he raged. "They must have known he would be a risk. He’s got resources everywhere for fuck’s sake. "
"Including among the guards," Dylan added.
We all looked at him, hoping he was joking.
"That's quite a bold claim to make," I said.
"But it's true. I know we'd all like to think that prison guards are there to be trusted but... Look, I'm not accusing anyone of anything, I'm just saying Mario Gianni has a lot of money to throw around and he's a big name in the underworld. He could probably pay anyone to do anything, and that includes people barely making minimum wage working in the prison."
"I reckon he busted his way out the old school way," Lucas said.
"What? Chiseling away at the bricks inch by inch?" I laughed.