Heart in Wire

by R. L. Griffin

  “Don’t act so excited to get rid of me,” Patrick joked. He took his baseball hat off and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his red Georgia Bulldog hoodie.

  “Man, I’d say anything to make you stay,” Billy face was sincere, “but I know you gotta go. I understand.”

  “It’s a promotion,” Patrick said noncommittally.

  “Or something,” Billy added. Billy slid his sunglasses on, pocketing his other glasses, and hopped in the passenger seat of the moving truck. “Stop by Del Ray coffee shop and I’ll run in and grab some coffee before we hit it.”

  “Okay,” Patrick agreed. It would be a long ten-hour drive to Atlanta in the moving truck and they’d been up late last night packing. He was one step from needing a caffeine drip.

  Patrick accepted a new job with the ATF as soon as El left him on his knees on the front porch. It would be more field work than he’d been doing in the last few years, but he was up for it. He knew this was the only option for him, even though he felt like he had to remind himself of it constantly. He had to leave, had to get away from the only woman he’d ever truly been in love with.

  He thought he’d been in love before. He wished like hell he would’ve fallen in love with Millie, but he didn’t. And he’d tried. After the beach with El, he knew that he’d never been in real love before. What he felt when he finally opened up and allowed himself to feel what El meant to him was all-consuming, shake-you-to-the-core love. It was as if El had embedded herself into his body; she was everywhere. He looked down at his fingers and remembered touching her, putting his fingers in her. It was madness; he’d lost his fucking mind.

  His phone rang, it was El. He ignored it. She left a message. He ignored it.

  Patrick had to put her out of his mind. He remembered everything about her—her touch, her smell, her taste. His favorite thing was her laugh, if you could even consider it a laugh. It wasn’t a laugh, but a burst of sound that fell out of her mouth when something was really funny. He could always tell the difference between her fake laugh and when she actually thought something was extremely funny. He lived for those moments. Now, he’d never be able to hear it again.

  A few minutes later, Billy came out of the coffee shop with two coffees, a bag, and a strained expression on his face.

  “So, I just saw Millie buying two coffees and breakfast stuff too. Awkward.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Patrick said under his breath.

  “She moved up the road after she left the house,” Billy explained, passing Patrick a cup. “El’s living with her right now, looking for a new place.”

  What. The. Fuck. Patrick couldn’t form a sentence. Time stood still as he tried to get his bearings.

  “Patrick, you good? You want me to drive?”

  He shook his head and pulled away from the curb just in time to see Millie walk out in her tight spandex running pants. She held her hand up in a somber wave goodbye. That would be their only goodbye. He just drove past her feeling numb; El hadn’t gone to George. Why didn’t she come back to him? Was that what she’d been trying to tell him by calling? He hadn’t listened to a single message, just erased them.

  “It doesn’t change anything,” Patrick finally said once they’d reached 95 South.

  “It doesn’t?” Billy challenged.

  “No, it doesn’t change shit. She didn’t want me.”

  “I don’t think she knew what she wanted that day. I’ll tell you, when she saw you with, umm, what was the blonde, leggy girl’s name?”

  “Kathy.”

  “When she saw you with Kathy, I believe she had smoke coming out her ears. She told you she loved you, Patrick, she just loved him too, and now she’s by herself.” Billy took a large bite of some sort of pastry.

  “She told me she was going to George’s when she left me.” His voice reflected his unsure psyche about why she lied. Why had she told him she was going back to George when she wasn’t? It didn’t make any sense. “She lied to me.”

  “I think she loves you both.” Billy shrugged. “Maybe she intended to go back to George and you changed her mind.”

  “What?” He couldn’t wrap his brain around this information, not when, for two weeks, he’d been fucking every woman who looked at him just trying to get the memory of El’s moan out of his head.

  He lifted his foot off the gas.

  “If you turn this moving truck around I’ll beat your fucking ass,” Billy warned.

  “I’m not, I just...”

  “You said it didn’t change anything.”

  “It doesn’t. I just wish I would’ve known, I guess.”

  “Then you should’ve taken her 15,000 calls over the past two weeks.” Billy drank his coffee and pulled out his phone. “I can’t wait until opening day. April is only a few weeks away.”

  Patrick shook his head. “April is a couple months away.”

  “Whatever. The countdown has begun. First the Super Bowl, then I can’t wait for baseball season.”

  Patrick laughed.

  “Did I ever tell you I wanted to be a pitcher?” Billy asked, taking another bite of his pastry.

  Patrick shook his head. Jamie had been his pitcher. The image of Jamie falling seared through his mind; he shut it out. “No.”

  “Oh yeah, I wanted to be a pitcher, but I hit everyone. I was fast, but no ball control.”

  Patrick sniggered. “I still hear that about you.”

  After several hours of small talk, Billy fell asleep, his head leaned on the window. Patrick was alone with his thoughts, which weren’t exactly welcome. His phone buzzed and he hesitantly looked at the screen, thinking it was El again. It wasn’t.

  His phone buzzed again, it was his sister. “Hey,” he answered with an easy smile on his face.

  “I’m headed that way,” she said in greeting.

  “Me too.”

  “Where are we staying again?”

  “I sent you the address,” Patrick answered.

  “I know, but who are we staying with again? I feel like I have the name wrong.”

  “Jesse McIntyre.”

  “That’s what I thought. Jesse McIntyre, like the football player?”

  “No, not like the football player, the football player.” He smiled.

  A squeal rang through the phone, so loud that Patrick had to pull it away from his ear. What is it with girls and that noise?

  “KK, please don’t act like an ass when you get there.”

  “I’m not an ass; I just can’t believe we’re spending the night with the Jesse McIntyre.”

  “He won’t like you if you call him that to his face.” Patrick scratched his head in contemplation. “Actually, he might like it if you called him that.”

  “I won’t. Mom said to come home as soon as you can,” she said, changing the subject.

  “Oh yeah, why?” he asked timidly.

  “Trev isn’t doing well.” Katrina’s voice was low.

  “What’s up?”

  “He’s got some sort of an infection that they can’t seem to get rid of. I don’t know.”

  “Okay. Mom okay?”

  “As okay as Mom can be,” Katrina answered.

  “Okay, I’ll see you in a few hours. Jesse put your name at the gate.”

  Squeal!

  “Damn it, KK.”

  “A gate!”

  “If you get there before me, just sit in the car so I can make sure you’re not acting crazy.”

  “No way,” she laughed. “I’ll be getting acquainted with the Jesse McIntyre.”

  “KK,” he warned.

  “Chillax,” she soothed. “I’m just giving you shit.”

  “Fuck your chillax. That is the dumbest non-word I’ve ever heard. Don’t tell me to chillax.”

  “Wound tight much?” she countered and laughed melodically.

  “Whatever. See you in a few.”

  Okay...” She hesitated. “I love you, Patrick.”

  “You too.”

  Katrina was the most sel
fless person he knew, putting all her dreams on hold so that she could help their mother with Trevor. He didn’t know how she could do it, stay in that house and watch the train wreck that was his brother’s life, which in turn, was his mother’s life. His mother was the strongest woman he’d ever met. She’d kept him, his brother and sister together when his dad left. Karen Greer had become a savior after the accident with his brother. She was a mother, a professional, and a nurse. He had no idea how she’d done it without losing her mind.

  Billy woke for a bit and they switched spots. While he was driving, Billy started pointing out different towns and useless facts about where they were.

  “Do you remember when you took El down to Savannah?” he asked after twenty minutes of sightseeing.

  “Of course I do,” Patrick muttered. He didn’t know where this was going.

  “How long did it take you to drive there from DC?”

  “That day?” Patrick thought a minute. “About 9 hours, because we went straight out to the island.” Patrick gazed out the window at the passing cars and remembered the funeral for Jamie.

  Patrick kicked his feet up on the porch and leaned back in the chair. Taking a long swig of the beer he purchased on the way back from the funeral. He wondered what Jamie was doing while everyone was mourning him. He punched in Billy’s number.

  “Yo.” Billy answered on the first ring.

  “This is the worst shit that I’ve ever had to do,” Patrick said.

  Billy was silent.

  “She fucking laid on the ground next to the casket with her fucking dog, crying, until I picked her up and carried her to the car. It was one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen and all for nothing. I just don’t get it.”

  “She took her dog to the funeral?”

  “Marched that fucker right into the church. You should’ve seen this lady following her down the hall saying, ‘excuse me, ma’am, you can’t bring your dog here,’” Patrick answered. “Stella just ignored her and kept walking like she didn’t ever hear her.”

  Billy chuckled a bit at that part. “That’s rough. You guys coming back tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know. I think so; she’s basically catatonic. She wouldn’t talk to anyone today really.” Patrick took another swig of his beer and sighed. “She wouldn’t even talk to her parents. I’m not sure she even realized they were there until they were in her face. Even then she just looked straight ahead and cried.”

  Billy didn’t respond to that bit of information.

  Patrick took another gulp of beer. “I’m assuming that Jamie’s family knows. They wouldn’t let the family bury someone who isn’t really dead, right?”

  He hoped he was right. He couldn’t believe someone from his agency was making this family go through this. Stella was just collateral damage for the undercover mission. It must be a big one.

  “I’m sure they know.” Billy agreed with hesitation. “Right?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know.” Patrick shook his head and then leaned it back, looking up at the clear black sky. He could see a million stars. He forgot how they lit up the night here.

  “Hey. I gotta go.”

  “Later,” Patrick said, putting his phone on the table.

  He heard a scratching noise on the glass door and turned to see Cooper’s big paw knocking against the door. Patrick let the front two legs of the chair fall to the floor and got up, opening the back door. Cooper bounded down the stairs and peed as soon as he reached a bush. The dog turned and came up the stairs two at a time.

  “Hey, boy. Pretty rough day, huh?” Patrick turned up the beer and drained it.

  He walked inside and grabbed another beer. Cooper followed him inside and then up the stairs to where Stella was sleeping. Patrick took off his shoes and padded up the stairs quietly. The room that Stella occupied was the first one to the left and the door was ajar, a low light coming from inside. He stepped to the door and pushed it a little bit. Peering in, he saw her collapsed on the queen-size bed, her long black hair splayed on the pillow a stark contrast to the white pillowcase. She was still wearing her tight black dress, which was hiked up, showing her upper thigh. She also didn’t even bother taking her red high heels off when she got in the bed, they were dangling off her toes. She looked peaceful and Patrick felt sorry for her, sorry that her world shattered and it was all bullshit. She hadn’t said three full sentences to him since they met. He wondered what she was like. Was she naive and happy, easily breakable? She was obviously smart, she was going to a good law school. Jamie had told Patrick they’d been dating since she was a freshman. Her wide-eyed “nice to meet you” had made his heart clench before he told her the news. This would change her. He promised himself he would help as much as he could.

  Walking back down the stairs, he wished Jamie was close so that he could punch him in the fucking face for being so naïve and stupid. Why hadn’t he asked Patrick about Burns? Patrick would have guarded him against agreeing to go undercover in Burns’ department. It never seemed to end well for anybody.

  He drained his second beer and grabbed a third one from the kitchen. He went back on the porch to enjoy the breeze; the humid Georgia weather had made him sweat through his shirt hours ago. His phone rang, it was Kevin.

  “Hey, man,” Patrick answered.

  “How’d it go?”

  “About as bad as I thought,” Patrick retorted.

  “I figured as much,” Kevin muttered. “So, I have more great news for you.”

  “Great,” Patrick said sarcastically.

  “Jamie has requested to be able to talk to you every week, once a week. Undoubtedly, he went ballistic on Burns when it all went down. He’s worried about his girl. Wants to keep tabs on her through you. Burns agreed to it for you.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me, Kevin? Do I really have to agree to this?”

  Kevin was quiet.

  “Fucking fine.” He blew out a long breath. “Do I get a bonus for all this shit?”

  “Not likely.”

  “I just think this is all a little too much.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Kevin agreed.

  “I’ll be back Monday and we’ll go through it.”

  “You have training Monday, but we’ll talk before you head home.”

  “Fine.”

  “Patrick?”

  “Yeah, Boss.”

  “I’m sorry this is all falling on you.”

  “Whatever.” Patrick disconnected the phone and drained his third beer.

  Billy shook him out of his daydream by reminiscing about one of the times when El was drunk and Patrick had to go get her from the bar with Lisa in tow.

  “Fuck, Lisa…” Patrick shook his head at the memory of that mistake. “That was a blunder of epic proportions.”

  “Well at least you got laid on the regular for a while.” Billy laughed. “You needed to work out some of your frustration.”

  “You knew that was the only reason I was seeing her?” Patrick was shocked.

  “Of course, dumbass, you were falling for El. That much was obvious. It was a smart move, just the wrong girl, I guess.”

  “And Millie?” Patrick asked.

  “Right girl,” Billy commented. “You fucked that up yourself.”

  Patrick leaned his head against the cold glass of the moving truck and sighed, remembering the day he met Lisa.

  Patrick and some of the agents from work were sitting at a bar near their office. It was happy hour and Patrick had been drinking whiskey for about an hour when a twenty-something woman rubbed up against his leg in order to get to the bar.

  “Excuse,” she said as she flagged down the bartender.

  “Vodka tonic, please. Grey Goose.” The woman’s breast brushed his arm as she turned to smile at him. She was attractive, but not too attractive, though he could tell her body was amazing under her tight green sweater.

  Patrick shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

  “Hi,” she greeted as she waited for her dri
nk.

  Patrick took a sip of his whiskey. “Hi.”

  “I’m Lisa,” she said with confidence, as if she knew he wanted to know what her name was.

  He didn’t, and he could fuck her without knowing her name, but he had to play the game.

  “Patrick.” He held out his hand to shake hers.

  “Patrick.”

  The bartender came with her drink and she put her card on the bar. He examined her perky ass when she turned around. She wore a black skirt that he imagined would be easy to pull up. He shook his head to get the thoughts out of his head. He felt like a boy just hitting puberty lately with all his dirty thoughts.

  “Just put it on my tab,” Patrick said before the bartender grabbed the card.

  The bartender nodded and walked down the bar to help other customers.

  Pulling her drink toward her on the bar, she turned around. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime,” Patrick responded. He’d found that the less he said sometimes led him to get laid easier.

  “You live here?”

  He nodded. His friends from work noticed the exchange and started paying attention to Lisa. He leaned into Lisa’s body and whispered in her ear, “I’d love to get out of here.”

  Lisa’s smile gave him all the information he needed to know.

  “Drink your drink while you tell your friends you’re coming with me.”

  Lisa’s hand ran up his thigh and she leaned into his ear. “I don’t even know you. You could be a murderer,” she quipped and lightly bit his ear, then walked away.

  Holy shit. He was hard already. He thought about his grandmother for a few seconds to get that problem under control, then waved the bartender over and closed his tab. He felt eyes on his back, but didn’t turn around. He told his friends he was heading out.

  He’d walked a few yards when he heard the clicking of heels rapidly approaching him. Turning around, he was faced with Lisa, whose cheeks were red from the cold.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “I’d like to push you up against that wall and lift your skirt right here,” he growled.