Chapter 11 #2
He put his hand on Beans’ head. “I shouldn’t get so attached when I know you’re not meant for me,” he said. “In the end I have to let you go. Best we both keep that in mind from here on.”
“I smell like wood smoke and beer. I’m fixin' to hit the shower,” Willow said. She’d held it together this long, but something was clawing its way up out of her and she wasn’t sure how it would emerge.
Drew just nodded. “Whatever you need. You feeling okay? Physically, I mean.”
“I might throw up,” she said. “Otherwise, all good.”
It wasn’t true. Her head was throbbing. She ducked into the bathroom, closed and locked the door, and then pressed her back against it and slid all the way down. Tears burned, but her mind raged. How dare he use her like that?
How dare I let him?
The voice in her head was sometimes cruelly accurate. She raised her head, then got up and went to crank on the shower knobs. But as she undressed, she kept her watery eyes fixed on her own mirrored gaze, and as she let herself feel the anger, the tears dried and left their burning salt behind.
“On the one hand, it’s stupid to want vengeance. I knew who he was the whole time. I knew the risk. And I’m a shitty cop for ignorin’ every warnin’ sign. I got nobody to blame but myself.”
She stepped into the shower. The flow was too hot. She didn’t adjust it, but turned her whole body to feel the burn. “On the other hand,” she whispered, “I’m fixin’ to make that Gringo pay for breakin’ my heart.”
Her slow turn stopped. “I don’t know why I said that. He sure as hell didn’t break my heart.”
A tap on the door. God, she just wanted to be alone and wallow in her emotions!
“Yeah?”
“Maria and Lily are here,” Drew said through the door.
“Okay.” Cause what was she supposed to say? Tell them to get out, and while she was at it, to get out herself?
She took a deep breath, “I’ll be a minute.”
“Take as long as you want, hon. We can clear out if—”
She didn’t answer, because she was fully distracted by reaching out of the shower and feeling around the counter for her remote. She tapped its speaker icon, and said, “Play my Pissed-off list. Max volume.”
The music came on. She sang along, even the swear words, not loud enough so anyone would hear her. Hell, she could sing as loud as she wanted and nobody would hear her over that female vocalist calling her man a liar and a cheat.
When Willow emerged some forty minutes later in stupid flannel pajamas and oversized socks, she was still good and pissed, but at least she had a plan.
“Hey, gals.”
“Freakin’ men, anyway,” Drew said.
To which the happily married ladies replied with an unconvincing, “You said it!” and “Dang ‘em all!”
Then came the obligatory group hug. She’d grown up with this. It was a ritual. She just wasn’t used to being on the receiving end.
“I brought ice cream,” Maria said.
“I stole booze from the bonfire,” Lily added. “Nobody suspected me. I’m the pregnant one.”
She nodded at the overstuffed beach bag she’d left by the front door. It was bulging with beer bottles.
“Why’d you stop the music?” Drew asked. Then, addressing the nearby speaker, “Resume the music. Volume down to medium.”
The music resumed at a lower volume. Willow leaned over the speaker and tapped the volume down a little more. “I’m not going to be much fun, girls.”
“No shit,” Maria said, then clapped a hand over her mouth and widened her eyes. “I may still be buzzed from the bonfire,” she said. “Let’s keep it going!” She went to the bag of bottles and took three by their necks in one hand.
She returned, arm out. Willow took one, then Drew. “Hey, Lily, there’s pop and sweet tea in the fridge. Put it in a fancy wine glass from the rack over there.”
Lily rolled her eyes, but did exactly that.
They all drank, and then Maria said, “The question on everyone’s mind is, what are we fixin’ to do about this?” Her green eyes flashed. She was living proof of the hot-tempered redhead.
And then Lily said, “We don’t know enough to do anything. We only heard a few linesof the journal. It’s unfair to judge someone based on such a narrow sliver of information.”
Drew nodded, “That’s what I’m sayin’,” though she hadn’t been saying anything. “We need to know more. We need get our hands on that phone, listen to the rest. And in the meantime—”
“We can’t do that,” Lily said. “How would we react if he hacked into Willow’s phone?”
“Well, how else do you figure we find out what he’s up to?” Drew asked.
Willow held up one hand while drinking the beer with the other. She chugged the bottle, then smacked it onto the fireplace mantle. “I want to handle this myself. It’s not…a family thing, it’s a me and Jeremiah thing.”
The other three looked at each other, curious, wounded, and irritated.
“I know you’ll be there if I need you. You just have to step back until I do. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Lily said, nodding. “Of course.”
“I mean, I don’t like it, but…” Maria shrugged. “Okay, I’ll try to keep my nose out of it.”
“Me, too,” Drew said, but she didn’t mean it. Willow knew it right to her bones.
She nodded, though, and said, “Thanks. Now, I’m goin’ to be fine, and I really don’t want an overnight nurse, so…if you all are still safe to drive home…”
“I can get ‘em home,” Lily said.
“Thanks. Night, gals. And thanks for bein’ here. And uh…leaving that ice cream behind?”
They laughed. Maria said, “Go to bed, Will. We’ll clear out, and lock up behind us.”
So she did.
When she rose the next morning, her place was clean and empty, and the ice cream was still in her freezer. Excellent. She took a clean uniform out of her closet, and headed into the bathroom to get ready for work.
She hadn’t even got there yet when Jeremiah blasted by her in his Jeep and pulled over up ahead of her.
Sighing, she signaled and pulled off to the side. She pulled her aviator glasses on before she got out and walked up to his car, reminding herself to be cautious. Jeremiah wasn’t a good guy.
He leaned left and thrust both his open hands out the open window.
She rolled her eyes, and proceeded up beside it.
“May I get out?”
“No. What do you want?”
“I know you listened to my journal last night. Part of it. I’m kind of shocked, Willow. I trusted you, and you—”
“You trusted me?” She felt her eyes widen and wondered if they could pop from their sockets like in a cartoon. “You used me. You lied to me. You’re lookin’ for a buried treasure and usin’ me to do it.”
“That’s all true,” he said, his hands on the steering wheel. He was looking at her, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Can I please get out of the car? C’mon, Will, I’m family. I’m Ethan’s brother, I’m not gonna hurt you. Couldn’t if I wanted to.”
She thumbed the loop off her holster, and the one off her taser too, and took a step back. “Okay. Get out. Since you’re family, I’ll give you a chance to explain yourself.”
“Good. Good.” He got out of the car and stood facing her, only a footstep away. “See, it’s true that I was using you, but that doesn’t mean everything else was fake. Will, what was between the two of us, it was real. It was fire.”
His gaze moved down her body, burning every spot it touched, then returned to her eyes again.
“Prove it,” she said. It felt like some force was making her lean closer.
“How?” he whispered, and the way his lips formed the word made a chill race up her spine. “I’ll do anything you want, I swear.”
Some magnetic force drew their lips together. Their bodies entwined, while their mouths devoured.
“This is so stupid,” she muttered when she scrambled for the Jeep’s rear door, and when it opened, he fell in, across the cargo bay, pulling her on top of him.
She reached behind her to close them in. The space was tiny. All the better. “I’m an idiot,” she said.
“I won’t make you an idiot.”
“You can’t, I’m already there.”
They were undressing as they spoke, kissing in between, and eventually his skin was against hers, and she was in heaven. They were entwined, they were connected, and there was nothing else, just this. Just the two of them and this powerful thing between them. Passion.
Fire, the Gringo had said.
It was everything. She lost herself in him, forgot everything else in his arms. They didn’t speak, they just kissed, and touched, and screwed as if they were the last two people on the planet.
After, as they fixed their clothes, and she watched for traffic before opening the hatch, she said, “You want to prove yourself? Let me listen to all of it.” Then she jumped down from the Jeep.
Jeremiah came out behind her, but his back was toward her as he closed the hatch. “To all of what?”
“The recordings on your phone. Your journal. You said you’d do anything to prove yourself. Let me listen to all of them.”
He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. “I deleted ‘em.”
“What?”
“Sorry, it was instinct. As soon as I realized the app had been breached—it was automatic. It’s what I was raised to do. First, wipe the evidence.”
She watched his face and wondered if she’d be able to tell if he was lying. “They’ll be in your trash—”
“I emptied it.”
“They could still be restored with—”
“I overwrote the files,” he said. “I’m just realizing that was probably a mistake, but it’s done.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Are you even kidding me right now?”
“I’m…sorry?”
She closed her eyes, disappointed right to her toes. People didn’t delete files that proved their innocence.
“Then tell me what you’re lookin’ for.” She already knew; she just wanted to hear him tell the truth.
“I…” He raised his hands, palms up in supplication. Then dropped them again. “…can’t.”
“Wow. Just…” She threw her hands up. “Wow.”
“I have as much right to be angry here as you do, you know. You went in my phone—”
“I went in your phone. Did I lie my way into your bed, Gringo? Did I screw you for information? Oh, wait, no, that was you.”
“Willow, I swear—”