The Feeling of Forever

by Jamie Howard

  And that was all assuming that was even what he meant by his last note.

  I leaned back against the floor-to-ceiling window, pressing my palms into the cool glass and letting cold seep into my overheated skin. If I wasn’t willing to let my stalker have a say in my career, I sure as hell wasn’t ready to let him affect my relationship.

  I held out my hand. “I’m gonna call him.”

  “After you get dressed.” Ally tucked the phone against her side.

  “Fine, after I get dressed.” I wiggled my fingers, and she plopped the phone into them.

  She twisted the watch on her wrist around. “Forty minutes and it’s go time, got it?”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  “Good. I’ll be back.” Just as quickly as she’d blown into the room, she swept back out. The mattress groaned a bit as I plopped onto it, bending over to grab tonight’s shoes. I slipped them on one at a time, and was a full five inches taller when I stood back up.

  My fire engine red Donna Karan dress hung in the closet with its deliciously sexy neckline and the tight sheath of satin hand tailored to my curves. I’d have to take tiny, careful steps with the mermaid fit and pay close attention to the people walking around me so that they didn’t step on the small ruffled train.

  The tie to my robe slipped open just as the room phone let out a shrill ring. It was so unexpected that I jumped, every muscle in my body going tense. My heart hammered in my chest, outpacing the speed of my footsteps as I crossed the room.

  I held the phone gingerly against my ear. “Hello?”

  “Ms. St. Clair, this is the front desk calling. We have a package here for you. Would you like us to send it up?”

  “Yes, please.” My fingers tightened their grip. “You can leave it with the head of my security detail, Vince.”

  “Of course. We’ll send it right up.”

  For a full minute after the dial tone sounded in my ear, I simply stared at the long, twirling phone cord, my thoughts tumbling around in a similar manner. It had to be a present from the director. Or Felix. He sent me something because he knew tonight was a big night.

  I fought off a shudder—God, don’t let it be flowers.

  Finally, when my patience was threadbare, there was another knock at the door. As I slowly let the door swing open, all it took was one look at Vince’s face to see the truth written all over it. He slipped into the room with a barely hidden grimace, closing the door behind him, a manila folder pinched between two latex-covered fingers.

  “We’ve got another one, Ms. St. Clair.”

  I nodded, trying to reel in my emotions. I’d crossed an entire ocean and he’d just followed me here. Maybe not physically, but that enveloped guaranteed that he’d be in my thoughts tonight. “Have you opened it?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Can I?”

  His free hand reached into his pocket, pulling out another latex glove. “If you don’t mind, we can open it together. Please don’t touch anything other than with this glove on.”

  I followed him over to the desk, sweeping the scattered magazines, books, and half-finished bottle of water onto the floor. Prying up the metal prong, he grabbed the envelope by the bottom edge and tilted it up. A set of black and white photographs spilled across the wooden tabletop.

  Or I should say, another set of photographs. But these were worse, so much worse than the ones I’d already seen. Every single photo lying on the desk was of Felix. There was one of him sleeping in his bed, alone. Another of him in the hospital parking lot when he was on his way to see me. Us together outside the movie theater. Both of us naked, me straddling him, my head thrown back and my breasts thrust out.

  And then I saw the last one.

  A gasp combined with a choked sob as it left my mouth, my eyes burning. There wasn’t anything particularly alarming about the photograph itself—it was a simple shot of Felix and Gavin having lunch in a restaurant, wide smiles on both of their faces. What made my blood run cold was the blazing red bull’s-eye sketched over his face. Underneath it, in the same sinister color, were the words: You never know who might get hurt in the crossfire.

  If the poem had been a warning, this was a clear threat.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting to maintain any semblance of control. My voice was nothing but a threaded whisper when I managed to force words out from between my pinched lips. “Can you get rid of these? Take care of them?”

  “Of course. I’ll get Detective Brackett on the phone immediately and send one of the guys downstairs to question the hotel staff.” His footsteps were quick and efficient across the room. He paused in front of the door. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “Ally.” I tucked the edges of my silk robe around me a little tighter. “Can you send Ally down, please?”

  “Not a problem.”

  After the door clicked shut behind him, I counted down from thirty. Thirty seconds to calm the frazzled edges of my mind, to try to tame the rioting panic in my head.

  I slammed my fist into the window, but the thick glass absorbed the impact without complaint. “You win! Can you hear me?” I spun around in a circle. This time my intended shout was nothing more than a pathetic whisper, “You win.”

  My shoulders slumped as all the cracked and splintered pieces inside of me finally disintegrated into dust. I couldn’t fight him, it was like doing battle against a ghost. And while I was willing to take my own personal risks, I’d never do the same with Felix’s life. At first I thought all my stalker wanted was my body, another chance to finish what he’d started the first time. But I was wrong, so wrong.

  He wanted to destroy me—everything I had, everything I cared about.

  And he was succeeding.

  This time, Ally didn’t even knock. She barged through the door like she was trying to run through it, her gaze immediately scanning for me. “Vince told me what happened. Are you all right? What can I do?”

  I stood a little straighter, my heels digging into the carpet. “You can help me get dressed.”

  She blinked at me, no sign of comprehension in her expression. “What?”

  “I’ll never get the zipper up by myself, I’m going to need a hand.”

  “But what about—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Did you call Felix? He should know about what happened.”

  “No. And I’m not going to call him.” I leveled her with a stare. “Neither are you.”

  “I . . . don’t understand.”

  If she’d seen the pictures she would. She would more than understand. “Tomorrow I want you to get me a new phone, a new number.”

  Her lips thinned into a tight line. “Is there anything else?”

  I knew right then I was treating her like any other employee, rather than the friend I so desperately needed. But telling her about the pictures, letting her know how badly letting go of Felix was hurting me, would only lead to tears. And I didn’t have time for that. In less than an hour I needed to be standing on the red carpet, smiling like my heart wasn’t breaking.

  “Yes.” I lifted my chin toward the closet. “I still need you to get this dress on me.”

  Chapter 29: Felix

  “We’re sorry; you’ve reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Please try your call again later.” The dial tone blared in my ear as the message cut off.

  What. The. Fuck.

  I gaped at my phone, my brain not quite comprehending what the automatic voice had told me—disconnected? No longer in service? “She changed her phone number on me.”

  I sped across the hotel hallway to the door directly opposite mine and threw it open. Sun poked through the tiny cracks in the curtain, barely penetrating the dimness. The lump on the bed groaned, the sheets rustling.

  My wheels bumped the mattress. “She changed her phone number.”

  “Oo id?”

  “Who do you think, asshole?” I scraped a hand over my face. “
She never answered my text and now I can’t even call her if I wanted to.”

  “Aby ee ost it.”

  “Dude, remove your face from the pillow so I can understand what the hell you’re saying.”

  Gavin cracked an eye open, lifting up on one elbow and then throwing himself over onto his back. “I said, maybe she lost it. She does that, right?”

  “Sometimes.” I couldn’t sit still. I rocked back and forth, wearing a track in the carpet.

  “So, call Ally.” He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “God, what time is it?”

  “Almost noon, now shut it.”

  Gavin grumbled at me as my second call of the morning went through. I almost expected to get another automated lady on the line, but only two rings in, she picked up. “This is Ally.”

  “Hey Ally, it’s Felix. I’m looking for Juliet.”

  “Oh, hi.” There was a pause. “She’s, uh, not here right now.”

  I thumped a fist against my armrest. “I tried calling her this morning, but couldn’t get through. Did she lose her phone or something?”

  “No, no she didn’t. I—” Something rustled on her end. “Listen, Felix. I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this, but Juliet needs some space.”

  “And she couldn’t have told me that herself?”

  “Things are complicated.” Voices crescendoed on her end, almost drowning her out. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can tell you. I have to go.”

  “Wait, wait.” I dropped my head into my hand. My chest squeezed tight, my heart somehow squeezing itself up into my throat. “Can you at least give her a message?”

  She hesitated, so I blurted out, “Please.” When it came to Juliet I wasn’t above begging.

  She sighed. “Sure. What do you need me to tell her?”

  “Tell her . . .” My gaze searched the ceiling. There were about a million things I wanted to say, but I condensed it all down into a few simple words. “Tell her I love her and I’m sorry. And to please call me.”

  “I will pass along the message. Bye, Felix.”

  “Bye.”

  The shitty plastic encasing my phone bit into my skin as I tightened my grip on it.

  Gavin coughed into his hand. “So, I’m guessing she didn’t lose her phone.”

  “She needs ‘space.’”

  “That’s so fucking bizarre.” Gavin shifted up, lounging back on his pillows. “Juliet’s always been, I don’t know, really straightforward. Not really prone to bullshit. And this? This reeks.” One of his hands drifted back to grip his neck. “Do you think she found out about the P.I.?”

  “Hell if I know. Although I can’t imagine how.” I leaned back in my chair, threading my fingers through my hair. “And even if she did, why would she be mad about that?”

  “The day I claim to understand how a woman’s brain works is the day I’ll voluntarily let you knee me in my sack.” He bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Skinny dude that he was, I could practically count every single one of his ribs. Was he not eating? Or was he still using? “Have you heard anything from your guy?” he asked.

  “Nothing yet. But I told him to pull out all the stops on finding this guy.”

  “Well, at least if you pull off your knight in shining armor move, she’ll have to see you again just to thank you.”

  I shook my head, wheeling back toward the door. “One way or another we’ll be seeing each other again.”

  “Oh yeah, how’s that?”

  “The fundraiser.” I cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’ve already got my ticket.”

  Chapter 30: Juliet

  My sunglasses slipped a little down my nose as I paged through the menu of my favorite lunchtime stop in LA. Above me, the edges of the umbrella rustled in the breeze and I tipped my head back to savor the cool caress against my cheeks. Premieres were over, my movie was killing it in the box office, and my audition for an up and coming TV show had gone fabulously. Really I should have been floating on cloud nine, and yet . . .

  I sighed. This month had been so empty. I never doubted that cutting things off with Felix was the right thing. If keeping him safe meant me being miserable, then it was a consequence I was willing to deal with. Didn’t mean it didn’t suck majorly though.

  I’d tried to convince myself it was only temporary. Just until that fucker was back where he belonged—behind bars, rotting in his jail cell. But that was only if they caught him.

  “Well, well, well.” Erik, my ex, strolled up to my table, his smile brighter than the California sun. “Imagine my surprise to see your name pop up on my phone.”

  I shoved my sunglasses up into my hair, standing. “Don’t even pretend like you’re not happy to see me.”

  He laughed, dropping a kiss on my cheek. Around us the steady whir of cameras shot into overdrive, peppering the air like mechanical cicadas. “Since you do happen to be my favorite ex-girlfriend, I figured it was the least I could do to make time for lunch.” His chair screeched as he dragged it across the patio, shifting it just a tad closer to mine. He lowered his voice. “You doing all right, Jules?”

  The media was going to have a field day seeing us out in public together again, but after the last few weeks, lunch with a friend was practically a godsend. Despite the fact that I rarely had a moment alone nowadays, I’d never been so lonely in my entire life.

  I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, never letting my sunny expression falter. “It’s been rough.”

  His fingers circled my wrist, his thumb slipping underneath the sleeve of my light jacket to run over the scar hidden beneath it. “I can’t believe this asshole got close enough to hurt you again.” He flung a hand up toward my security team that was sprinkled around us. “What’s the point of these guys if they can’t keep you safe?”

  I bit my lip to hide my amusement. The uptick in Erik’s accent was always a clear signal to the fact that he was upset. “We’ve increased security measures, added a few more members to the team. I’ll be fine.”

  He grunted, not willing to agree with me.

  “You know, unless you stop scowling at me, everyone’s going to think we’re having a nasty spat.”

  His gaze scanned down the menu on the table in front of him, his lips curling up in a smile. “What spin would they put on it this time?”

  “Hmmm.” I leaned back in my chair and tapped a fingernail against the armrest. This was a game we used to play all the time, seeing what ridiculous headlines we could concoct. “LA’s favorite hockey boy rejects ex’s attempts at reconciliation.”

  “How about: America’s leading lady quarrels with ex over unplanned pregnancy?”

  “That would be pretty impressive on your part. Knocking me up when we haven’t spent a single night in the same city up until two days ago.”

  We both laughed, and it felt like my chest might crack open from the relief of it. It was such a bittersweet feeling. Next to my water glass, my phone buzzed, Ally’s name popping up as it continued to ring. I silenced it.

  In our brief pause in conversation, the waitress appeared and we both ordered something to eat—a salad for me, salmon for him, waters all around.

  He gestured toward my cell. “Ignoring your assistant?”

  “Kind of.” I shrugged. “She wasn’t too pleased about me taking this audition.”

  His eyebrows climbed sky-high. “Not a good opportunity?”

  “Great, actually. It’s just that”—I took a quick peek around us, lowering my voice—“she thinks I’d be safer if I took a step back for a little bit.”

  He spun his water glass in a circle, his fingertips drawing a path through the condensation. “Would you?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  His ice cubes clinked as he lifted the glass for a sip. “And what does the boyfriend have to say about all this? Felix something or other, right?”

  “We’re . . . taking a break.”

  “Because of all this?”

  I nudged him under the tabl
e with my foot. “You’ve always been too good at reading me.”

  “Comes with the job.” He smirked.

  I blew out a breath, fiddling with my silverware. “Let’s just say our being together wasn’t entirely safe. For him.” My phone started ringing again and I silenced it. Again. This time I flipped it face-down for good measure.

  “He threatened him?” Elbows on the table, he clasped his hands together. “That’s so messed up, Jules.”

  I nodded, fighting to keep my smile in place. “I couldn’t take the risk.”

  Rubbing a hand over his chest, he scanned the area around us. “I wish you’d have warned me. I would’ve worn my bulletproof vest.”

  “That’s not even funny.”

  “Sorry.” He scooped up my hand again. “I—”Buzz-buzz, buzz-buzz. “Maybe you should just answer that?”

  “It’s probably just word on my audition.” I sighed and flipped my phone back over, prepared to answer it, but it was just a text this time. I pulled it up with a swipe of my finger, then nearly forgot to breathe. I read it twice, three times, a fourth, but it still wasn’t sinking in.

  “Bad news on the audition?”

  “No, it’s not”—I glanced up at him, the grin on my face one hundred percent genuine—“they got him.”

  “The stalker?” His eyes went wide. “Holy shit Jules, this is huge.”

  “Bigger than huge.” I ran my hands over my face, just giving myself a second to absorb the reality of it. My body felt lighter, my heart practically soaring out of my chest.

  “It’s over.” His knee bumped mine. “I want to hear you say it.”

  “It’s over.” And it wasn’t until the words rolled off my tongue that I truly believed them. “It’s. Over.”

  Chapter 31: Felix

  Ben twirled his pen between his fingers, pausing every few seconds to tap the metal tip of it against the aged wooden tabletop. The Blackbird was its usual quiet at this time of day—the blinds drawn, no one here but us. We’d already done sound checks for the last stop in our tour tonight and then we’d all retreated to the comfort of our favorite haunt.