by Stella James
“Shut the fuck up!” He shouts. “They want you. Not me. Without your testimony, all that shit you collected won’t stand up and the case will fall apart. That’s what they told me,” he says.
“They’re lying to you Eddie. The case is strong with or without me, and those powerful men that you’ve been working for are just using you. You’re a scape goat and nothing more.”
“Shut up!”
He turns off the highway onto a gravel road and I think for a second that if he slowed down enough I might be able to get the door open and jump. But my head is throbbing and my vision is blurry. He seems rattled, maybe if I keep poking he’ll slip up and I can lose him when we get to wherever he’s headed.
“Blue Falls is small Eddie, I don’t know where you think you’re going to hide, but they’ll find us,” I say, managing to keep the waiver from my voice.
“We’re not hiding. And it’ll take anyone down in Mayberry fucking months to find you,” he says.
We follow the winding road until we reach a small clearing where a dark blue truck sits under the shade of a large willow tree. He looks up at the rear view mirror, his beady eyes focusing on mine.
He’s not taking me back.
“All they want is proof,” he says. “And my ass is in the clear.”
I tug at the plastic around my wrists as it cuts into my skin.
“Don’t do this Eddie, don’t become a killer for them.”
He puts the car in park and turns off the ignition before reaching for the gun sitting on the passenger seat.
“You don’t know shit. This is your doing, it’s your own damn fault for sticking your nose where it don’t belong.”
He opens the driver’s side door and steps out of the car, reaching for the back door next. My head is aching but this is my chance. My only chance. He grips my arm and tugs me from the car, kicking the door shut behind me. Think fast or this is it.
“Get moving,” he says. “Head for the trees.”
I nod carefully and drag my right foot just enough that I fall to the ground.
“I don’t have time for this shit, get up,” he demands, slipping the gun into the waistband of his pants and yanking me up by the elbow.
I don’t have time to think, only to react as I bend my knee up hard and fast and connect with his groin.
“Argg fucking bitch,” he groans, folding over.
I lace my fingers together and hit him across the face as hard as I can. He’s disoriented enough that he falls to the ground and I kick him once more in the ribs before turning towards the main road and running for my life. Adrenaline soars through me as my lungs burn and I make it to the end of the gravel road and to the pavement. I stop for a second and look behind me but he isn’t coming. I keep running along the shoulder of the highway until the roar of an engine behind me causes me to jump down into the grassy ditch. The vehicle stops but my pace only increases.
“Grey! Stop!”
Eric?
I will my legs to stop and turn to see Eric jogging towards me, just as my eyes focus over his shoulder and I see Eddie scrambling from his car, gun aimed with certainty at Eric’s back.
“Eric! Eric, get down,” I gasp, my breath ragged.
The entire world stops as Eddie fires his gun and Eric falls to the earth. I can’t scream, I can’t move. Everything that surrounds me is out of focus until I feel the weight of something heavy slam into my back and I hit the dirt.
“Stay down,” a muffled voice commands me. “Don’t move.”
When I dare myself to glance up, I see Eric’s head tilt up and his eyes warn me to stay put. He’s okay. Relief fills me as a sob reaches my lips and I allow myself to breathe again.
“Give it up Eddie, you’re not getting out of this one,” Detective Monroe shouts from above me. “Drop the gun!”
I’m too focused on Eric and the fact that he’s alive, I don’t comprehend the weight being lifted off of me or the two gunshots that follow. Not until I hear a pained scream and the sound of sirens in the distance. Detective Monroe jogs past me, reaching Eddie and slaps a pair of cuffs on him before ripping the sleeve from his own shirt and securing it around Eddie’s leg. The throb in the back of my head catches up with me as I try and unsuccessfully sit up. A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist and a familiar scent fills my nose as I’m pulled gently to stand.
“Grey, baby, are you okay?”
I tilt my head back as my tears continue to fall.
“I thought you were dead,” I say. “And everything stopped.”
He holds me close and rocks me back and forth right there on the side of the highway now filled with police cruisers and paramedics. I fall apart in his arms, my insides a tangled mess of fading adrenaline and the realization that I could have lost the man I love.
*
After being poked and prodded and spending the remainder of the day giving statements and answering questions, we finally arrive back at the house. It’s well past suppertime and Eric’s parents are keeping Jamie for the night. My head is still filled with a dull throbbing which I am praying a hot shower will take away.
The drive home from the station was quiet, as were any moments Eric and I found ourselves alone during the day. I suppose neither of us quite knows where to start or what to say. Really, what do you say after you get into a massive fight with your boyfriend, end up temporarily kidnapped and then endure the heartbreak of thinking the man you’ve fallen in love with has been shot? This is the stuff movies are made of.
When we walk through the front door, Eric locks it behind us and takes my hand, leading me up the stairs and into the bathroom. Watching my eyes carefully for what I assume is protest, he grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it gently over my head. I unclasp my bra and let it fall to my feet as he reaches for the button on my shorts next and slides them down my legs, along with my panties. I do the same for him, pulling his shirt up and over his head and once we are both free of our clothes, I take his hand this time and lead him to the shower, turning the water on and not bothering to wait for it to warm before I step in and under the spray.
My mind is still trying to process the day as I reach for the soap and lather it between my hands, moving from under the water and switching our positions. My mind is processing but my body needs his. He tilts his head back and wets his hair, wiping the water from his eyes before fixing his gaze to mine as I run my soapy hands down his chest. I pause over his heart and let the steady beat of its rhythm drum against my palm.
“I was so scared,” I say quietly.
He places his hand over mine.
“I was ready to rip the world apart to find you,” he says.
The feel of Eric’s hand on my cheek pulls me from my thoughts, I look up at him as the steam billows around us.
“I’m sorry Grey, I’m sorry for the way I overreacted and for everything I said to you,” he says. “I wish I could take it all back. I was jealous and I fucked up. When I thought I might never see you again it killed me to think that was our last memory. I love you Grey. I’ve held those words from you for far too long but I’m done holding back, I can’t be without you.”
“Show me Eric, I need to feel you,” I say, pressing my mouth to his as a groan rumbles from his chest and he turns me, placing my back against the slick cool tiles of the shower wall.
There’s no rush in our kiss, no urgency in the way we taste each other as his hands run down my spine and settle on my hips. He pulls his mouth from mine and brushes his lips along the side of my neck and down to my collar bone, my fingers move to his thick hair as he sinks to his knees and takes his time covering each one of my breasts with his mouth. The water has turned cool but the feel of his hands on me ignites my skin all the way down to my bones. Need and desire fill me as he lowers himself in front of me and gently parts my legs, taking one long swipe of my folds with his tongue and groaning with satisfaction.
“So sweet,” he mutters, taking another long lick and settling on my clit, softl
y pressing his tongue against it.
“Eric I can’t wait,” I plead. “I need you.”
As he stands he bends one of my knees and places my leg around his waist, guiding himself to my core and thrusting inside of me slowly until he’s buried deep. My fingers lace together behind his head and when I open my eyes, I meet his stare, holding it as he slowly pulls out and enters me again.
“I love you Eric.”
His pace quickens ever so slightly but remains steady as he makes love to me against the wall. Our eyes remain locked and it isn’t just his body that takes mine, it’s his heart and his soul and every imperfect part of him that accepts every imperfect part of me.
When my climax runs through me, it’s his eyes that keep me anchored. And when he finally fills me it’s with a declaration of love falling from his lips.
I know his words are true, as are mine. But as we lay in bed, holding each other a bit too tightly, I feel a sense of uneasiness run through me because I know that nothing is ever this simple. Especially love.
Chapter 16
Eric
One week later…
I check on Jamie before climbing the stairs, wondering if Grey is still awake. We’ve been spending the last week trying to regain some sense of normalcy but the more the dust settles and the more everything else returns to the way it was, the more obvious it becomes that a void remains between us.
Detective Monroe left several days ago with Eddie in custody and on the promise that he would be in touch further when a trial date has been set. Seeing as how Eddie was out on bail for the drug trafficking charges when he showed up in Blue Falls, his list of punishable offenses has gotten longer and longer. Monroe figures he’ll cut a deal to get less jail time by testifying against the DA and a handful of other officials behind the entire operation.
Grey’s testimony may not even be needed, but right now it’s a waiting game depending on what Eddie decides and how the prosecution chooses to move forward with the case. Either way, I’ll be by her side. In a courtroom if need be or moving forward and carving out a new life.
I crack the bedroom door open to find her lying in bed, a book in her hands and the only light coming from the small lamp on the nightstand.
“Is everything okay?” She asks, setting her book down.
“Yeah she’s out, doesn’t look like she’s moved much,” I say.
Silence settles between us and I hate that we both pretend it doesn’t exist. After we returned home from giving our statements to the Sheriff’s office we made love in a fog of need and want, professing our love for each other as we came apart and then back together again. We haven’t spoken those words since and we haven’t so much as brushed up against each other. I want her. I need her more than anything. And this void between us is on me, I know that. Because as much as I need her, I haven’t been able to give her the one thing she deserves. The truth. A truth that I can hardly give myself.
She picks up her book and continues reading while I head into the bathroom to take a shower. When I finish and open the bathroom door, the room is bathed in darkness and she’s lying on her side with her back to my side of the bed. I lift the covers and instinctively move to pull her closer to me, as I have every night for the last week, only to stop myself with no explanation or reason. Several moments pass before I tell her what I should have told her from the very beginning. What I should have allowed myself to remember.
“Things were never perfect,” I begin. “She wasn’t perfect and neither was I.”
Fabric rustles in the dark and I feel the bed dip down slightly as she rolls onto her back and then over to face me. The light of the pale moon outside giving me just enough to see her, the faint outline of her face and a glimmer of her blonde hair.
“Eric, if you’re not rea-,”
“I am ready. This isn’t just for you Grey, it’s for me too. It’s for us.”
She places her hand on my arm and squeezes gently.
“We fought. All the time,” I tell her. “About money, about her parents. It wasn’t always like that. There was a time when she was happy with our life, when we first got married and had Jamie. Everything was simple and humble and she seemed so happy. I don’t know when it changed or even why because I never bothered to ask. All I knew was that I wasn’t good enough for her anymore. Our life wasn’t good enough anymore.”
“I’m sorry Eric,” she says.
“I was selfish and scared, I didn’t want Jamie to grow up with divorced parents,” I say. “So when Jamie turned two and Brandi and I weren’t even sleeping in the same bed anymore, I ignored it. I ignored the problem and hoped it would go away. I pretended like everything was fine even though my wife was miserable and I thought that whatever had come over her would just go away and we could go back to being happy. God, I was fucking arrogant,” I laugh bitterly.
“I get it,” she says. “It’s easier to pretend sometimes.”
“Jamie was our common ground, the only tie we had left and we both knew it. She wanted to leave, I could tell. I was out on a job, Jamie had spent the night before with my parents and was still there. I got a call at work saying Brandi had been in an accident on the highway. They pulled two suitcases from the demolished car.”
“Where was she going?”
“I found a note when I got home from the hospital. She was going to stay with her parents for a few days and she wanted a divorce. She was on her way to my parents to pick Jamie up when she swerved into the other lane and got hit head on. She wasn’t just leaving me, she was taking my little girl.”
The reality of knowing that I could have lost my daughter that day makes my eyes burn and my chest tight. The relief I feel to this day that Jamie wasn’t in that car is indescribable but also laced with guilt because Brandi was.
“I’ve spent the last three years focusing on being a parent and nothing else, not because I don’t think anyone could ever live up to Brandi,” I say. “But because no matter our differences or how things were in the end, at one point I loved her and for her, in the end, the life I could give her wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.”
“Oh Eric,” she presses her body to mine and I pull her tight. “I can’t promise you perfection, but you’re enough for me. A life that we build together will always be enough for me,” she says.
“I hate myself for letting you walk out the door that day. It guts me to think I could have lost you,” I say.
“But you didn’t lose me. I’m here and I love you. I love Jamie,” she says, leaning back and placing her soft hand along the side of my face. “I’m yours,” she whispers.
I roll her onto her back, brushing my knuckles along the curve of her jaw, keeping one arm beneath her, anchoring her to me.
“Tell me again,” I rasp.
“I’m yours Eric. Nothing is going to change that,” she says.
“I love you baby, so damn much.”
She presses her lips up to mine and moments later when I sink into her and take her slowly and with certainty, my name falls from her lips just as a promise leaves mine. That I am hers.
Epilogue
Grey
2 years later…
“I think he has your nose,” I say, looking down at the chubby, pink face of our newborn son. Jamie shifts on the bed and leans down to get a closer look at her new baby brother.
“He’s so tiny,” she says. “Ivy says that babies cry all the time.”
“Oh I’m sure he will,” I smile. “He’s just too tired right now.”
“He’s been sleeping forever,” she says. “Can I hold him?”
“Of course you can, just slide back on the bed a bit.”
Eric watches from the doorway of the hospital room as Jamie shifts back onto the bed beside me and holds her arms out on her lap like we’ve shown her. I place Kaleb in her arms and watch with tears in my eyes as she smiles down at him. I look up at Eric and catch him swiping the back of his hand quickly beneath one eye and my heart fills with more love than
I could have ever imagined.
Kaleb Jerome Doyle was born approximately six hours ago with a full head of dark hair like his daddy and lungs that Eric affectionately says are that of his mommy. We’ve had countless visitors in that time but for the last hour it’s been just the four of us. I gently place my feet on the floor to stand when Eric rushes to the side of the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“Relax, I’m just going to the bathroom,” I say, taking his arm and helping myself to stand. He’s been in super overprotective mode since the first day of our honeymoon when I found out I was pregnant. I love this man with every fibre of my being, but if he doesn’t calm down, I may actually smother him in his sleep.
Our wedding was perfect. We had a small ceremony on the beach with Jamie standing between us. Molly and Jack brought portable grills and made all the food while we spent the evening with our closest friends and of course Eric’s family who have become mine as well.
I still fill in at the diner when Molly and Jack are short staffed but most of my time in the last two years has been spent teaching ballet lessons at the community center. Dance has always been a part of me and when Ms. Claire decided to up and leave for New York City to try and pursue her dreams of Broadway, the opportunity sort of fell into my lap.
“Mom, look, he’s holding my finger,” Jamie says.
She’s been calling me mom for just over a year now and almost every time she does, I have to hold back my tears. Eric has always been honest and upfront with Jamie about Brandi and I would never try and replace her. It took several conversations between the two of them and Eric’s reassurance to Jamie that by calling me Mom, it didn’t mean that she no longer loved or remembered Brandi. It simply meant that she was lucky enough to have two women love her and that one watches her from heaven while the other is here.
Unfortunately Brandi’s parents refuse to have anything more to do with Jamie or Eric. I know he reached out to them shortly before we got married and tried to repair the bridge but they just couldn’t accept that Jamie is a child and not a project and that Eric will never conform to their lifestyle or expectations. If anything, I think having to deal with them has given Eric a new outlook on his previous marriage and maybe some insight as to the pressure Brandi must have lived under.
