by Cat Johnson
Jessa shook her head. Her sister had really done it this time.
She’d thought she couldn’t be more shocked than when Sara had told her she was going back to Jerry but this had done it. Sara had gone and hadn’t even told her boyfriend she was going.
Poor Will. Blindsided after they’d been dating for four years. How could Sara have done that to him? Left without even a goodbye?
She and her sister might look alike in coloring and stature, but they certainly were nothing alike in temperament. Jessa would never do what Sara had done. Not to anyone. Certainly not if she were lucky enough to have a man in her life like Will Weber.
Jessa glanced at the time displayed on the computer screen as she listened to the phone ringing. It was mid-day. With any luck the supposed man of the house would be at work, if he happened to have a job at the moment, and Sara would be in the house alone.
“Hello?” The male voice had Jessa’s nostrils flaring as she sucked in a breath through her nose.
Jessa had no love for Jerry. She hadn’t since she’d gotten to really know him shortly after the wedding ten years ago. He was a duplicitous, fake, lying son of a bitch—and for some reason her sister couldn’t bring herself to cut ties with him. For some reason Jessa didn’t understand, Sara had fallen in love with him. And, apparently, still loved him now.
When Sara had finally left him, Jessa had gladly taken her in, happily hoping she’d never have to hear this man’s voice again. Yet here she was, not only talking to him, but having to ask him for a favor.
Acid rose in the back of her throat as she said, “It’s Jessa. Is Sara there?”
“Jessa, hello. Long time no talk.” His tone sounded smug.
“Yup.” Teeth grinding, she had no patience for him prolonging this conversation. She also noted he did not answer the question about Sara. “I’m going to assume Sara arrived safely since you don’t seem concerned.”
“Oh yeah. She got here fine.”
“Can I talk to her?” she asked, trying to keep most of the ire out of her voice since he was—for now—her only link to her sister.
Sara had better get her cell situation straightened out and soon. Jessa had no intention of going through this every time she needed to contact her sister.
“Uh, let me see if she’s around.”
That house wasn’t that big. He knew if Sara was around. This was just a way for Jerry to keep the power, the control. Just like how he’d asked Sara to marry him and convinced her to drop out of her sophomore year of college.
God, how Jessa hated him.
Finally, there was a jostling and Sara said, “Hello.”
“What’s wrong with your cell phone? And what the hell, Sara, you didn’t even tell Will you were going back to Alabama?” Now that Jessa had access to Sara, the words came fast and furious.
There was a long enough hesitation that Jessa thought she might have lost the call. Finally, Sara said, “Um, I’m going to get a new cell number here. I, uh, didn’t want to have a Virginia area code now I’m back in Alabama.”
Jessa frowned at that ridiculous reasoning. More likely, it was a way to insure Will wouldn’t have a way to contact her.
“Listen,” Sara hissed, her voice barely audible she was speaking so softly. “I can’t really talk right now.”
Jessa wasn’t going to let her sister off the hook that easily. “What went on with you and Will? Did you even break up with him?”
“I’ll call you later. Okay?” Sara asked.
No, it wasn’t okay at all. It was pretty obvious Sara couldn’t speak freely with Jerry in the house and that pissed off Jessa. Almost as much as Sara not answering her questions did.
“I gotta go. Call you soon.” Sara disconnected the call before Jessa could get in another word.
Shaking her head, she drew in a deep breath.
Sara’s life in Virginia might not have been perfect, with her sleeping in Jessa’s spare room, but at least she could speak to whomever she wanted, whenever she wanted.
Yeah, money was tight while Sara worked part time so she could take classes and finally get her degree, but that wouldn’t have lasted forever.
Things weren’t easy here, but at least Sara had been free. Jessa could only guess that Sara had traded her freedom for the comfort of the old life she’d known and the financial security that came with it. She hoped Sara didn’t live to regret it.
She looked around the apartment, much emptier without Sara’s stuff strewn all over.
Somehow the cleanliness felt lonely. They might not always see eye-to-eye, but Jessa had gotten used to having her sister around. She was pissed at Sara’s decision, not to mention how Sara had handled leaving, but even so Jessa missed her and the noise and chaos that came with her.
This new normal of quiet organization was going to take some getting used to.
No roommate. No boyfriend. Maybe she needed to get a cat or a dog. Did her landlord even allow animals? She’d have to check her lease. But not right now.
More pressing was the garbage that needed to be toted out to the bins. Sara had never bothered taking the garbage out, so it wasn’t as if Jessa would miss that part of her sister being there.
Feeling bitchy and petty and ashamed of herself for being so, Jessa grabbed the trash bag from the can beneath the sink and tied it off in a knot.
Out on the sidewalk, Jessa spotted her neighbor. The woman could talk her ear off for an hour about everything or nothing at all.
Taking a quick left toward the garbage bins to try to put some distance between them, she heard, “Jessa!”
She let out a sigh, pasted on a smile, and turned back to the older woman and her equally geriatric dog. “Hello, Mrs. Mancini.”
“Did you hear?”
Jessa drew in a breath and braced herself for the gossip. “No. Hear what?”
“The Zabielskis were robbed.”
“Wow.” For once, Jessa’s nosy neighbor had delivered news worth hearing.
Although Jessa would have been much happier if Mrs. Mancini’s revelation had been the usual run of the mill gossip because this news was frightening. “When? What happened? Are they all right?”
The woman visibly perked up at Jessa’s interest in her information. “They went away for a few days and when they got home this morning, they found the front door standing open—kicked in—and all their valuables were gone. They think it had to have happened sometime last night or surely someone would have noticed the door wide open like that before this morning. I know I would have while I was out walking Skippy.”
The dog, eager to get going, tugged on the leash the older woman held.
Jessa barely noticed the small graying fur ball as she blew out a breath, shocked. “Wow. That’s horrible. Thank goodness they weren’t home at least.”
Her earlier concern about being lonely now that Sara was gone was replaced with a new concern—a very real fear of being alone in the apartment.
Mrs. Mancini continued babbling about the details of the break-in.
After Jessa determined there was no new or useful information coming out of her verbose neighbor, her mind spun with concerns, plans and panic.
How was she going to get any sleep while braced for the sound of the door being kicked in?
Hopefully the thieves watched for their targets to be out and only robbed empty apartments.
That still wasn’t comforting. She was out of the house all day at work. Now that Sara had moved out, Jessa would be coming back to a dark empty apartment every night.
More antsy than Skippy the dog, currently tugging on the leash held by his inattentive owner, Jessa bordered on rude as she interrupted her neighbor, rushing to get a word in between Mrs. Mancini’s. “I’m sorry but I’ve got to dump this in the bin and get back in to . . . uh, do something. Talk to you later.”
Jessa started backing away even as Mrs. Mancini continued, “Oh, okay. I just wanted you to know about the robbery. We single women need to be careful. Make sure you lock your do
ors.”
“I will. Thank you.” With that as her final comment, whether her neighbor thought the conversation was complete or not, Jessa turned and almost jogged to the trash bins. She dumped her bag inside, secured the lid and then turned for the path to her place.
On the way back inside, Jessa eyed her door critically. It was solid, but obviously not solid enough to withstand being kicked in. That was apparent since all these apartments were constructed the same and the Zabielskis door hadn’t protected them from being robbed.
She flipped the tiny lock built into the doorknob and scowled, again realizing how lax she’d been when it came to her security. The weight of that blame was all on her. Jessa should have done something about this situation long ago.
Even if Sara was still living here with her, what good would it have done? They were two women without a weapon, or a dog or even pepper spray.
And even when Sara had been here, she spent probably one night a week sleeping over at Will’s place leaving Jessa alone.
At the thought of Will, Jessa again shook her head at how her sister could leave a hot Navy SEAL for Jerry.
Will traveled the globe, saving the world from terrorism and who knew what other threats normal citizens didn’t even realize existed.
Jerry had never left the state of Alabama. Had never flown on an airplane. He jumped from job to job with no concern for loyalty or long-term security.
Will gave Sara the freedom she needed and wanted. Jerry tried to surreptitiously and overtly control every aspect of Sara’s life—and she let him.
What the hell was wrong with Sara? Ugh! Some women didn’t know a good thing when they had it.
A noise outside had Jessa jumping. She realized living alone was going to take getting used to even after she’d ramped up her security.
A noise outside had Jessa freezing.
Footsteps and voices moved past her door, close enough she could make out words, before fading to the distant sounds of car doors slamming and an engine starting.
She let herself breathe again. It was probably just the neighbors going out. Even so, she was so on edge she was ready to jump out of her skin.
Great. Now she was scared and paranoid.
As Jessa moved to the door to make sure the lock was secured, she decided now was the time to find and check that lease. A dog might help both of her problems—her lack of security and her woeful lack of companionship.
She cursed Sara one more time for leaving her here all alone in the two-bedroom apartment she’d only stayed in so there’d be room for Sara when she needed a place to stay.
While she was at it, she cursed Sara for abandoning a great guy like Will, and for just being an idiot in general.
Had two sisters ever been more different? Jessa didn’t think so.
CHAPTER 5
“Hey, Wonka!”
Ignoring the nickname he hated but that he’d gotten used to over the years, Will paused on his way to his truck. He turned to see Brody Cassidy heading toward him from across the parking lot. “What’s up?”
“A bunch of us are fixin’ to head to the bar. You coming?”
The only place Will was fixin’ to head to was his sofa, with a quick stop at his fridge for a beer. That had become his standard MO the past few weeks. Barring the team getting called out, he didn’t see that changing anytime soon.
He shook his head. “Nah. I think I’ll just go home.”
Eyes narrowing, Brody studied Will. “You haven’t come out in weeks. What’s going on? Everything okay with you?”
“Yup. Fine.” Will nodded, lying smoothly as he’d been well trained to do.
Brody broke into a grin. “Ah, I get it. You’ve got your girl waiting on you at home. A little Netflix and chill. That it?”
That guess took Will by surprise, breaking his poker face. He feared the emotions he’d been ignoring, or at least hiding, showed through the crack in his carefully erected façade.
If Brody was watching closely enough, he’d no doubt notice. The man was more observant than most. Hopefully, he’d be more concerned about getting to the bar than evaluating Will’s expression.
No use lying about it though. His sudden lack of a girlfriend after all these years was going to come out eventually. Might as well get it over with.
“Um, yeah, no. That’s not it. We uh, broke up actually.”
Brody’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. Man, I’m sorry. You were with her forever.”
“Just four years.” Just. He stifled the bitter laugh at that.
“You need somebody to get drunk with and bitch to?” Brody asked.
Any other time and any other breakup—one where he hadn’t been proven a fool—he would take Brody up on the offer. Not this time. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though.”
“Anytime. You change your mind, you got my number.”
“Yup. Thanks.” Will nodded.
“A’ight.” Accepting that answer, Brody finally walked away.
Alone and out from under his squadron mate’s scrutiny, Will drew in a breath and evaluated the damage talking about Sara to Brody had done.
His gut twisted. His chest felt tight. But no more than what had become his new normal for the past month.
All in all, he’d come through that confession fairly unscathed. He figured telling the first person was going to be the hardest. It would only get easier from here.
Although presenting the news to his family was going to suck. His sisters never let anything go without analyzing it to death. And he really didn’t need the end of his relationship to be the topic of the day. That was one reason he’d been avoiding their phone calls.
That couldn’t go on forever. He felt guilty every time he dodged one of his mother’s calls. And he was overdue for a visit home.
He’d get on that—soon, but not now. Not yet.
It had only been a month since Sara’s sudden disappearance. A month where he’d waited every day for a text or call saying she was back. Waited for some excuse for why she’d left—besides the obvious.
Pitiful as he was, he’d even tried her cell number a couple of times to see if it was turned back on. Nothing.
It had become increasingly apparent she’d really gone back to her ex-husband.
Though he wasn’t an ex now, was he? Because in spite of Will giving Sara the eighteen-hundred dollars to retain the divorce lawyer over a year and a half ago, and even though she’d filed for divorce and officially he’d been served with the papers, her husband had never signed them. He’d outright refused to.
They’d been living apart for more than four years and yet he was still holding on.
Not just him, her too, obviously. With no children from the marriage, Sara could have let the judge intervene. Finalize the proceedings and determine how they split the property even without her husband’s signature on the papers. Yet she’d conveniently managed to delay or cancel every court date for one reason or another.
A woman who truly wanted to be divorced didn’t take nearly five years to do it. She obviously hadn’t wanted to be. That was glaringly clear now, as well as the fact he’d been stupid and blind to not see it earlier.
After years of separation and being only a signature away from a finalized divorce, she’d gone back. After telling Will she loved him. After warming his bed for years. She’d gone back and it fucking stung.
No, that was too mild of a word. It brought to mind tiny bee stingers that made you say son of a bitch, put an ice cube on it and then go on with life.
This pain was more like a grenade blast. A month later he still felt the shrapnel. In fact, a shard was jabbing him in the heart at that very moment.
Hell, there’d been nights Will had done just what Brody had suggested and drowned his sorrows in a bottle. Only he’d done his imbibing alone, in the privacy of his own home where he didn’t have to talk about his stupidity or her betrayal.
But he hadn’t drunk himself into oblivion in a good week or so. That was progress.
>
Yup, he was handling it just fine now. Moving on. Just fine.
Will climbed into his truck and saw the tiny deer antler ornament dangling from his rearview mirror. She’d hung that there last year. The matching one from the pair they’d brought together hung in her car.
Fuck.
He grabbed it and pulled until the string snapped. Staring down at the object, he pondered what to do with it. It shouldn’t be that hard of a decision. He should have no problem tossing it in the trash.
So why couldn’t he?
A man who’d really moved on wouldn’t still be keeping all of his ex-girlfriend’s things. In his truck. At his apartment.
Ghosts of their relationship raised painful memories every time he stumbled upon one, making him feel like crap all over again.
Time to get rid of it all.
Tossing the ornament in the passenger seat, he started the engine, shifted into drive and peeled out of his space.
Determined, he drove home probably faster than he should and strode into the apartment with a purpose. To get rid of her stuff and erase the memories.
He opened the closet to grab a cardboard box and frowned, remembering on a recent semi-intoxicated, heartache-spurred cleaning binge he’d recycled them all.
That figured. Usually he had so many boxes from ordering shit online, they’d fall out of the closet on top of him whenever he went to grab a jacket. Today, when he needed one most, he had none.
That was fine. He’d just use a trash bag. That seemed more fitting anyway.
Pissed at himself for getting rid of the boxes, which would have proven useful, but keeping her stuff, which definitely was not, he stomped to the kitchen and flung open the cabinet beneath the sink.
He yanked a folded trash bag out of the box there and shook it hard to open it.
Time to purge the pain.
Carrying the bag to the bedroom, he started there, pulling open drawers. Her red Alabama football shirt was first to go. Even now, trying not to, he could envision her wearing it. Though just as painful as seeing her shirt was when his hand touched on his own favorite US Navy T-shirt as he pawed through the drawer. She used to like to sleep in that when she stayed over.
