Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
Jada
“Jada?” Heather called down the hallway the following morning.
“Yeah?” I asked, my voice giving away the sadness that I felt. It sounded raw, broken … not like me at all.
Well, not the usual me, but maybe that was the new me. The me without Cane. The me without any certainty of the future. The me sick with worry, frustration, and anxiety.
“My coffee maker just broke,” she said, coming to the bathroom doorway where I was getting ready. “I don’t know what bad karma I spread for this to happen, but it’s not cool.”
“I’ll be fine.”
The only reason I’ll be fine today is because he sent me a text letting me know he was fine.
“I’m not worried about you,” Heather said seriously. “I can’t function without two cups flowing through my system. I’m going to jump in the car and run down to the coffee shop to grab a cup. Do you want me to bring you one? Or do you want to go with?”
I set my toothbrush down on the counter. “Yeah, you know what? Let’s go grab some coffee and doughnuts. Caramel-topped doughnuts would make me happier today.”
“I’ll have coffee cake, but okay. We’ll take Brian’s car. He blocked me in, but he left his keys on the floorboard,” Heather said, shaking her head. “It’s like he doesn’t realize that it could actually get stolen. It’s a good thing he’s cute.”
I smiled. “His dimples are adorable.”
“One day soon, I will give you all the details,” Heather said, eyes twinkling, as she led me out of the bathroom.
I scrunched my face. “Not all the details. I don’t want the nitty-gritty.”
“You’re lame,” Heather said in mock disgust as we stopped in the kitchen. Heather found her keys while I slipped on my sneakers. “Now let’s go get some coffee.”
We left the house, jumped into Brian’s car, and made our way into town. It was a beautiful morning in Chicago, and we rode with the windows down. We grabbed coffee at Starbucks and then found a bakery with all kinds of fresh goodness, ordering a dozen different things because we were indecisive.
“Will Brian care if I eat in his car?” I asked, peering into the bakery box on my lap. “Because I’m not sure if I can wait until we get to your house.”
Heather laughed. “I’ll make it up to him, don’t worry. Give me one of those,” she said, pointing at a piece of coffee cake in the box.
The car was filled with that fresh-baked scent as I opened the lid and handed Heather her slice. I grabbed a caramel-topped doughnut with nuts and took a bite.
“I may move here just for the food,” I said through a mouth of confection.
“I can’t argue with that.” Heather wiped her mouth off on a napkin I handed her.
I took a deep breath, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Speaking of that …” My eyes darted to hers before looking back at the doughnut. “If I wanted to stay in Chicago, could I stay with you?”
Heather’s eyes flew to mine, and I felt my cheeks heat.
“I’m not saying I want to. I just …” I searched for the right words to explain what I was thinking. “I don’t know, Heather. Things are just such a mess. They were a mess before I got here, I think.”
She set her cake on the middle console. “You can always stay with me. You know that. But can I ask where your head is right now?”
I smiled sadly. “I wish I knew. I just feel like everything is out of control. I couldn’t control the fact that I had to come here, you know?”
I watched the traffic signal turn red, and Heather slowed the car, coming to a stop. She looked at me.
“The last time I talked to you, you were worried that he was pulling away. Does this have something to do with that?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just feel like if I don’t watch it, I’m going to be the same person I was before.
No control of anything. At the mercy of a man and his life.
Always worried about something going on, about things happening that I don’t know about.
And I want to make sure I don’t get back to that. ”
“And you feel like if you know you can stay with me, that will help ease your nerves?”
Nodding, I said, “I’m just trying to remind myself that I have options.”
She laughed as the light switched to green. “I’ll be your backup plan. That’s fine with me. Just don’t go deciding anything too quickly, okay?”
“Okay.”
We rode in silence the rest of the way home, Heather giving me some space to think, which would have been great if I could have concentrated on anything. I would start to figure something out, and my brain would go back to Cane. In Arizona. With Simon.
And the internal anxiety attack would begin all over again.
When we finally reached Heather’s, something on the stoop caught my eye.
“What’s that?” Heather asked, taking a couple of steps ahead of me and reaching it first.
There was a beautiful bouquet of colorful roses on the steps, a white card sticking out of the foliage with my name on it.
Heather unlocked the door, and I picked it up, my heart fluttering in my chest.
I kicked the door shut behind me and set the flowers down on the coffee table, Heather standing back and watching with a smug smile on her face.
Finding the card in the midst of reds, yellows, oranges, and whites, I opened it.
One flower of every color because I feel every way about you.
I love you,
Cane
My eyes teared up. I held his note in my hand and looked up at Heather.
“I don’t care what you say. He is a keeper,” she said matter-of-factly. “He may not be perfect, but aside from Synyster Gates, no one is.”
I laughed, sniffling back tears. “He isn’t perfect. Not close. But dammit if he doesn’t try.”
“Trying,” Heather said, her voice softer, more serious, “is half the battle, my friend.”
She gave me a wink as she walked out, leaving me with my flowers … and my thoughts.
I snapped a picture of the flowers and sent it to Cane.
Me: They are so beautiful.
Within seconds, his response came.
Cane: You’re more beautiful than those flowers.
Me: Thank you, but I don’t know if that’s possible.
Cane: Those flowers won’t be beautiful two weeks from now. You will be beautiful forever.
My lip quivered as I sent my response.
Me: I love you.
Cane: I miss you. And I love you.
Me: The orange ones are my favorite.
Cane: Mine, too. They remind me the most of you. And that dress.
Me: And red cups and wine? ;)
Cane: LOL And fancy pizza dinners in offices.
I giggled at the memory.
Me: I wish you were here.
Cane: No, I wish you were here. With me. Where you belong.
I just looked at his message, not sure what to even say.
Cane: Soon.
Me: Soon. <3
Cane: <3
CANE
I woke up as the sun came up and reached out to pull Jada close. My hand brushed against the sheets, and they lacked the warmth that her body usually brought to them.
When I opened my eyes to search for her, I remembered she wasn’t there. The loss of her was almost more than I could bear.
It was for her safety. For our future.
I pulled my black comforter over my head and tried to go back to sleep. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw her green eyes, heard her laugh, and felt her skin against mine and I was reminded, yet again, of what I didn’t have.
And why.
“This is fucking bullshit!” I yelled out, my voice bouncing off the walls. The echo made the room feel so empty just like I felt inside. So fucking empty.
How did I let things get this way? How did I so royally fuck this up?
I jumped out of bed, fueled with my own stupidity, then tugged the legs of my boxers down as I heard my phone ringing faintly.
Where the fuck is it?
It stopped ringing and a few seconds later the ring indicated a voicemail.
I scratched my head, trying to remember where I had set it the night before.
My office, the workout room, the shower …
I remembered setting it on the vanity while I brushed my teeth, fighting myself on whether to call Jada or not the night before. I walked toward the bathroom as it went off again.
Once I’d grabbed the phone, I looked at the screen and answered.
“What’s up, Nick?”
“Hey, Cane. I have some good news for you, for once.”
I stilled. “I could use some good news right about now.”
“My sources tell me that Simon is hiding out in Casa Grande. There’s a pickup spot there for the cartel he works for. The police are watching it closely, but they can’t go in there guns blazing without a warrant, and unfortunately, they don’t have probable cause.”
“So we wait?”
“We wait. But at least we have somewhere to start.”
I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like shit: bags under my eyes, the color of my face dull.
“Let me know if you hear anything else. He’s still around. The call to Jada proves that.”
“I know. We will get him. Just hold tight.”
Jab, cross, hook.
Jab, cross, hook.
Jab, cross, hook, uppercut.
I hit the bag over and over again as Powerman 5000 blared through my phone. I had to get some of the aggression out of my system so I could settle down.
It had been a long fucking day.
I got nothing done. I couldn’t focus on anything. I went from being insanely pissed off that Simon wasn’t found, to being sadder than I ever imagined that Jada wasn’t around, to angrier than hell that I couldn’t do anything to fix any of it.
I glanced at the clock.
2:19 AM
Jab, cross, hook.
Jab, cross, hook, uppercut.
I had been at it for a couple of hours and felt no better than before. The clarity, the peace I normally found in the gym was out of reach.
I squared up again and started throwing right, left, right when the music cut out and a ringtone took its place.
I tossed off my gloves and grabbed my phone off the dock.
“What’s up?”
“Cane. It’s Nick …”