Chapter 4 #3
She couldn’t get a read on his expression. None at all. His face was impassive, with a slight upturning of his lips which could be construed as a smile. Sort of.
Maybe her frantic lectures to herself were delusional. Maybe—maybe he was just waiting to get up and go. She didn’t think he regretted the night of sex. But maybe it was just his usual one night stand. Maybe he was forgetting the night with every passing second.
That would be good. It was be the best possible situation for them both. She could leave knowing she had a good memory but she hadn’t turned her back on a new love. And if that thought hurt, just a little, too bad.
He was looking at her, patient and stolid.
“I, um—” Lauren licked dry lips. She nodded at the bathroom. “Go ahead and have a shower and I’ll fix break—breakfast.” Her voice wobbled. She forced her mouth into a smile. “I imagine you usually have a big breakfast. So I’d better—” She waved a hand awkwardly. “Yeah.”
This was terrible. She turned and shot toward the kitchen. Before Jacko got out of bed naked and she could be reminded all over again of what she was leaving behind. Before she burst into tears.
By the time Jacko got out of the shower, breakfast was on the table. Basically Lauren just emptied most of the fridge. She wasn’t going to take any food with her. So Jacko had a four egg omelette, fried ham, two whole wheat baguettes, a big slice of Tillamook cheese and hot oatmeal with brown sugar and raisins.
Her own stomach was closed up tighter than a fist. Even the smells of the food made her nauseous. She was barely keeping down the vanilla tea she’d made for herself.
“Nice spread,” a deep voice said. Lauren gave a start as Jacko sat down. She hadn’t heard a sound. He was not there and then suddenly there. He opened up one of her pretty floral napkins and spread it on his massive thigh. It looked dainty there, and utterly incongruous. “So how come you’re not eating?”
She met his dark eyes, so sober and steady and watchful. What was needed here was a smile but for a second she forgot exactly how you did that. It had been two years since she’d had much to smile about. Various parts of her face weren’t cooperating. She curved her lips upward but knew the smile didn’t touch her eyes.
Lie , she told herself. “I’m—I’m not really hungry. I have a bit of a headache.”
He lost that impassive look and scowled fiercely. “Did I overdo it last night? Is that why you have a headache?”
Lauren’s eyes opened wide. “Oh of course not! No, I—" her mind whirred. Words clanked around in her head. She wanted to reassure Jacko but she couldn’t tell him the truth and it was like a logjam, paralyzing her. Finally, she landed on an old stand-by, the nuclear bomb of excuses. “I, um, I got my period this morning.” There. Most men recoiled and asked no further questions when you brought up the Great Female Mystery. Plus it would reassure him that not even his sperm could make the leap across latex.
But somehow it didn’t mollify him. He simply took another long look at her, as if he could go in and check her ovaries to see for himself what was happening, then finally settled down to his breakfast. He ate neatly and fast and demolished everything set before him.
Lauren sat and watched, remembering to sip her tea now and again.
She’d never see him again. The thought rolled around and around in her head like some huge, toxic ball bearing, destroying everything in its path. She was incapable of wrapping her head around it. She’d just found him and she was going to have to leave him. Today. This morning.
He was dressed in his tuxedo pants and white dress shirt, no black satin bow tie. He looked tough despite the fancy clothes and as she watched him, Lauren couldn’t figure out how his attractiveness had slipped her notice for so long.
How had she overlooked the sheer male appeal of him? The huge shoulders and arms, the strong neck, the strong, dark features of his face. They all added up to such a sexy package. How had she not noticed? Even the shaved head was sexy. And the tats, hmmm.
Tough guys weren’t her usual type but there wasn’t a woman alive with a pulse who could be indifferent. Why had it taken her so long to see that sexiness?
Maybe because he had acted so standoffish when he was around her. It sometimes felt as if he leaned away from her when she was with him. Which was cool. Not every man on earth had to be attracted to her. But even so, even being stiff as a board around her, he had always been … there. And she’d been attracted, she just hadn’t realized it.
She realized it now. And how.
His huge body seemed to occupy more space than it should, like some high-density planet, and like a high density planet with a moon, her natural inclination was to lean into him. She had to hold herself stiffly to keep still, because what she wanted was to lean forward, lay her hand on that massive forearm. For warmth, for reassurance. For sex.
Because, well…she’d be up for sex with Jacko again. Oh yeah.
Who knew sex could be like that? Overwhelming, life-altering. She felt like she’d discovered her body for the very first time. Something that hadn’t existed before Jacko’s touch.
Oh man. Leaving was going to hurt .
What she was feeling must have been putting out vibrations or something because his gaze grew even keener. He was about to say something. Jacko didn’t talk much but what he did say was smart. He was picking up on her distress.
No no no.
She pasted a huge smile on her face, rose, started putting the breakfast dishes away. This was pure habit. She was going to leave the dishes and most of the pretty things she had accumulated behind. No baggage going forward. She was going to have a minimalist existence. Renting a furnished unit and keeping personal belongings to a minimum. So wanting to put the dishes in the sink and wash them was pure muscle memory.
Jacko rose with her, moka maker and milk pitcher in hand. Oh God, he was domesticated?
“No, no.” She made shooing motions with her hands. He had to leave right now before she burst into tears. “I can do that more quickly. I have some work to do so, um, maybe you’d better get going yourself.” She looked him over. “You’re not going into work in your tux are you?”
“No, ma’am,” his deep voice intoned. So we were back to ma’am? He narrowed his eyes. “What time do you think you’ll be done?”
She blanked. “Done? With what?”
“With work. With what you have to do.”
What she had to do was throw her clothes, computer and artwork in her car, take off and drive as far as her strength would allow. “Um, probably all afternoon.”
“Ok. Do you want to go out for dinner?”
“Um, sure.” Her voice wobbled on the word. She coughed. “Yeah. Sorry, I might be catching something. But sure. Let’s go out for dinner.”
He was searching her face, looking for something. She made her face a happy place, using every ounce of prevarication in her. Happy happy. Woman who’d just had sex with an interesting new guy. Who wanted to see her again. Happy happy.
He grunted and picked up his tux jacket.
He was leaving! She wanted him to leave, absolutely. She had a lot to do and many miles to travel today but…he was leaving.
She’d never see him again. She wanted this but she wasn’t ready for it. Would probably never be ready for it.
Her smile was blinding. He was leaving and her heart was breaking.
She offered her cheek for a kiss but Jacko cupped the back of her head with one big hand and drew her to him. It happened fast but there was nothing in her that would have—could have—resisted his kiss. She stepped forward, into his embrace and was lost. His mouth was as soft as she remembered. The first touch of his lips to hers was electric. Far too exciting. She pulled away before she could lose herself in that kiss.
Before she asked him to stay.
Before she changed her mind.
She showed her teeth. That was a smile wasn’t it? And swatted his arm, as if playfully flirting. “Go on now. Get out of here.”
Before I beg you to stay.
Showing him $20,000 of orthodontics worked. He searched her face for another long moment then lifted one side of his mouth. “Can’t wait to get rid of me, huh?”
The opposite. She made a gun of her thumb and forefinger and shot him. “Work. To do. Now scat.”
She accompanied him to the door, with a friendly hand on his shoulder. Actually, she just wanted to touch him one last time. While touching him, the monsters were kept at bay. No fear, no terror. Just hard warm muscle.
She ushered him over the threshold, still touching him. It was so hard to let go. She wanted to touch him forever, but she couldn’t. Her hand dropped. He turned back, dark face serious, dark eyes searching hers.
She turned herself into a bright, shiny mirror, nothing visible underneath. Nothing to see here, folks. Move right along.
“What time?” Jacko said.
“What?”
“What time should I pick you up?”
Her mind whirred uselessly. Pick her up?
“For dinner,” he said. “Tonight.”
“Oh!” A spear of grief, sharp and uncontrollable, shot straight through her heart. Tonight she’d be as far away as she could drive. Out of his life forever. Tonight would never happen. “Sure. Six, say?”
He nodded, stepped forward.
She stepped back.
She didn’t want a goodbye kiss, because it would really be goodbye and she didn’t want to burst into tears in the middle of it. Jacko was unnaturally perceptive. Already he was looking at her in unloverlike terms, head tilted, eyes sharp. Like he was studying her.
“Okay!” she said, her voice suddenly loud. She clapped her hands, hoping she wasn’t behaving like a loon. “See you this evening.”
One last, slit-eyed look and Jacko nodded. He turned and walked to his huge SUV which he’d parked right outside her garage door, blocking her. She couldn’t leave until he drove away.
God, he was enticing even from the back. Insanely broad shoulders, thick strong neck rising incongruously from the satin collar of his tux, huge hands surrounded by an inch of white dress shirt cuffs peeping from under the fine black wool of the jacket sleeves.
He looked like he was walking slowly but in an instant—far too soon, in fact—he was at his vehicle’s door. Once he was behind the wheel he paused for a second with the door open, looking across her small front yard at her.
She turned her lips up and made a little wave like a kid going bye bye. Jacko slammed the door shut and she lost all view of him behind the dark smoked glass.
Lauren swallowed, feeling suddenly sick. This was it. She’d never see his face again.
Jacko backed quickly out of her short driveway and drove off fast. She stood stupidly on the porch until she couldn’t even pretend to see his vehicle, the unshed tears finally pouring down her face.
Inside she stood for a long moment, unable to summon the energy she needed to do this. It felt like her feet had been nailed to the pale hardwood floor. She couldn’t move, could only sway there, tears dripping down her face. Her living room, which she’d lavished such love and care on, became a blur. Her heart, which had started beating hard as she said goodbye to Jacko, slowed, became a cold hard stone in her chest.
She swiped at her cheeks, trying to relegate Jacko to the back of her mind. There was no time to think of him, to mourn his absence. There was a life to end and another to begin.
She stared at the ceiling , willing the tears to stop. They did, finally.
Jacko was gone. Soon she’d drive away from this pretty little house and never come back. When he stopped by at six to pick her up for dinner she’d be at least four hundred miles away.
This was so hard. Yet this was going to be the rest of her life. Not making ties so it wouldn’t be painful leaving.
Even leaving her things behind hurt.
The curtains she’d made from Italian cotton bedspreads, the rescued coffee table she’d restored herself, the battered silver bowl she’d polished to a high sheen and filled with homemade potpourri. Small inexpensive things that had turned the house into a home. All wasted efforts, it turned out, because she was going to turn her back on them. She’d leave with the bare essentials for a new life—her clothes, her laptop and her art supplies—and that was it.
But first there was someone she had to tell. Someone she’d never met but who had saved her, and was her friend.
Opening her laptop, she found Tor and keyed in the steps necessary to access the darknet. At times it felt like descending down down down into another world. An even darker and more dangerous world than this one. Except for one small corner of it.
Felicity.
It wasn’t her real name. Steeped in pop culture, Felicity loved Arrow and named herself for Felicity Smoak. It seemed apt. Felicity Smoak always saved the day with her smarts and so did Lauren’s Felicity.
She had no idea who Felicity was in real life, where she lived, even what she did for a living. But she felt as close to her as she would to a sister. Though she never spoke about the details of her life, Lauren had the distinct impression that Felicity was as alone in the world as she was. And that Felicity knew trouble, first hand.
The secret impregnable chat room had an orange and teal header because Felicity was a film buff. On the right hand side of the header was their symbol. Two feminine hands, fist bumping. Bright orange fingernail polish on one hand, bright blue polish on the other. Lauren had designed it.
She saw that Felicity was online, as usual. She never seemed to sleep.
She signed in.
Runner : Runner here. I’m pulling the plug on this life.
The reply came almost instantaneously. Felicity didn’t ask any questions. Lauren had chosen the handle Runner for a reason. She was on the run. Felicity knew that if she needed to pull the plug, she needed to pull the plug. Felicity also knew that she would need to change identities. Lauren Dare was a Felicity construct. Felicity had done it before, she’d do it again.
Felicity : Tell me what you need. Let me know when you get to where you’re going then contact me. Tell me what you need.
Runner: Not sure where I’m going. Doesn’t matter as long as it’s far away. And I need a new life.
Felicity : You need the Tardis. Failing that, how about an eye in the sky? Who’s on your tail?
Lauren sometimes wondered whether Felicity worked for the NSA. Several times she’d been able to provide overhead surveillance. Though she was good enough that maybe she’d hacked the NSA.
Runner: No one’s after me right now. But it’s time to go. I made a mistake last night. Let my guard down.
Felicity: A preventive bail. Smart choice. Nowhere is safe for long.
She closed her eyes. Somehow Felicity knew, understood. Lauren could feel the sadness coming off the monitor.
Felicity: Docs. You’ll need new ID. I can get you anything you need, girl. Just say the word. You want to be a PhD in quantum physics? Done. You want to be a surgeon? I’ll have you in the operating theater in no time.
Lauren smiled. She was Lauren Dare thanks to Felicity, who could make her a doctor or a physicist or Italian. She was brilliant.
Runner : Thanks. Will ask for new docs when I get to where I’m going. Probably be best if I don’t operate on anyone.
Felicity : If you’re going to go, do it fast. Speed is life.
Runner: Don’t I know it.
Felicity : Sorry you’re ejecting. Sounded like you had a really good deal going there. Hard to give it up.
Runner . A very good deal. V sorry to go. Breaks my heart.
She wiped wet eyes. The screen was blank for long seconds.
Felicity : OMG. A guy! You found a guy and now you have to dump him and run! Bummer!
Pity Felicity was so very smart. Lauren had to put a spin on it to save her heart.
Runner: Probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway. Hard to be with a guy when you’re on the run.
Felicity: So how was the sex? On a scale of one to ten?
Lauren typed before thinking.
Runner : 100
Felicity : sigh. You can’t take him with you?
Taking Jacko with her . Heat shot through her at the thought. Heat and hope. Feeling safe all the time. Hot sex at night. Oh yeah. She’d give anything to take Jacko with her. But of course that was impossible. In another life, in another universe, maybe. But not in this one.
And, frankly, she couldn’t imagine Jacko wanting to abandon his excellent job and his life here to follow her into exile.
Runner : Double sigh. No.
Felicity: Take a lock of his hair with you. For memory’s sake. And maybe I can clone him from the DNA. Get follicles.
Lauren laughed and wiped away a tear. Felicity probably could clone him. All this time she’d imagined Felicity as some super analyst somewhere but maybe she was a lab rat in a white coat who could pipette a new Jacko into life. Of course she’d have to wait for Jacko to be born and grow up and she’d be sixty when he was thirty. That would totally work for Dr. Who but not for her.
Runner : Can’t. Shaved head.
Felicity. Yum. Tats?
Runner: Tribal. Shoulder .
Felicity: Take some pubes with you. That guy definitely needs cloning.
Runner: I wish.
Felicity: Get going. If you have to go, do it fast. When you land, get in touch. I’ll be here.
Runner: On my way. And thanks.
Felicity: np
Their chat page blinked out. Lauren powered down her MacAir, resting a hand on the cover, fingers caressing the smooth apple logo. It felt, for just a moment, as if she were still connected to her virtual friend. It was crazy but she could feel Felicity’s support coming over the ether. Pixels and digits and friendship. She knew nothing about Felicity except for the important things. Felicity was smart, she had secrets too and she was on Lauren’s side.
At least Lauren could plug back into the chatroom when she finally landed. Jacko and her friends here were already in the wind, lost. This virtual friend on a secret network was the only constant in her life now.
God, it was already nine and she hadn’t packed yet.
Good thing her wardrobe was deliberately small. Good pieces, but not many of them. Everything she owned fit into a mid-sized suitcase. She wheeled it out to the garage and went back in for her artwork. Her artwork was commercially successful and could be used to track her down if any of Jorge’s people searched her house so everything she had went into the car. All her graphic work was stored in the Cloud under a fictitious name.
By ten she was ready to walk through the house for the last time, hand lingering over various items, as if touching them would store them better in her memory. The house was so pretty. She’d fallen in love with it immediately. Basically, a living room/kitchen, bedroom and a huge room with a skylight where she worked. More than enough. Snug and cheerful. The place where she’d hoped to make a life for herself, and damn it, she had .
Lauren angrily wiped a tear away. She never cried, never allowed herself to and this morning she was leaking water like a fawcet.
At the door to her bedroom she stopped, unable to go back inside. This was the last time she’d see where she’d made love with Jacko. It had been the best thing to happen to her since her mother and step father had died and this whole mess started.
She looked at the bed across the room, reliving some of the highlights of last night. Maybe the memory of last night would fade, as memories did over the years. Right now, though, the memory was vivid, hi-def, 3D.
Never again. Never again a mind blowing love affair. Never again would she have friends in the flesh. Never again warmth and closeness with others.
Good bye house.
Good bye life.
It had started snowing again, light flakes that drifted down like afterthoughts, the world outside light grey, nebulous. Pretty. Dangerous. She wasn’t a good driver. Driving in the snow was terrifying, one more horror.
South. She’d head south. Maybe somewhere with a beach. San Diego would be perfect but it was still west. Florida was out, of course. Texas, Georgia? Time enough on the road to decide.
Lights out, heat off.
She shivered in the garage, cold seeping into her bones. The car was packed, ready to go. She was lingering, not wanting to take off. Wanting a few minutes more here, in this magical city where she’d met some magical people.
She was going to hurt them by disappearing. For a second, crazily, she thought of going back in to leave a goodbye note.
No. That was dangerous thinking. No more stalling. It was time.
She reached into her purse for the keys and didn’t find them. She scrabbled a bit around the bottom, frowning. She kept a neat purse. Car keys in one internal pocket, house keys in another. The house keys weren’t there because she’d left them on the kitchen table. And…the car keys weren’t there, either.
She searched again, more thoroughly. Clearly, she’d missed the keys because she was hurting, worried. So she looked again. But they weren’t there.
Sighing, Lauren opened her purse wider, angling it so it would catch the meager light of the overhead bulb.
No keys.
How could she leave if she didn’t have car keys?
Search one more time.
This time she carefully placed the contents of her purse on the car fender. Wallet, fake driver’s license, fake ID, makeup case, her ereader with a thousand books on it. No keys.
This was a disaster. The snow was falling more heavily now. If the keys weren’t in her purse—which they should be —then she had no idea where to look. It could take her hours to scour the house, hours she didn’t have.
Now that she wasn’t in the Jacko Force Field of Safety, danger was drumming in her head. She’d made a huge mistake last night and she was going to pay. She could feel it, she could almost smell it. Her neck prickled with the sense of impending danger. They could be coming for her right now.
She had to leave right now.
She huffed out an angry, scared breath, turning to walk back into the house, when a huge hand appeared in front of her, car keys dangling from thick fingers.
“Looking for these?” Jacko’s deep voice asked.