by Potter, LR
Tate merely nodded her head. What did she say to that? The woman was a lawyer and she could sing. Insecurity flared again, this woman was so much better suited for Jace than she was.
She turned to the woman. “How long are you staying?”
“Umm, I was thinking of maybe two or three days. I don’t really have a time constraint. I’ll stay until Jace kicks me out,” Brittany said before lifting her flirty, brown eyes up to Jace’s.
“Kicks you out?” Tate asked.
Smiling up at Jace, Brittany said, “Yes. Jace has graciously agreed to let me sleep on his couch. Wasn’t that sweet of him?”
“Yes, sweet,” Tate murmured as dread spread throughout her.
“It’s just a couple of days and I’ll be at work most of the time anyway.”
Brittany swatted him across the arm. “I hope you’ll manage to squeeze in some time for me.”
“It won’t be much, I’m afraid. Tate and I have plans to go away at the end of the week so I have a lot of loose ends to finish up before that.”
“Well, we have a lot to catch up on in a short time, it seems,” Brittany replied.
With her stomach hurting from its constant clenching, Tate moved away. “I’ll let you go ahead and get started. I’ve got customers to attend to,” Tate said, pulling away.”
“See you later?” Jace asked her.
“Uh,” Tate said looking between them, “I don’t want to intrude on your reunion.”
Brittany wrapped herself around Jace’s muscled arm. “Oh, please do join us for breakfast after your shift here.”
While on the surface, Tate couldn’t find anything wrong with the woman’s words, her body language, on the other hand, told her screamingly that Brittany considered her the third wheel. Not thinking she could stomach an entire meal with Brittany touching Jace and him not seeming to mind it, Tate almost backed out. But the thought of leaving those two alone for any length of time frightened her.
“Of course,” she murmured. Turning to Jace, “Where do you want to meet?”
“Why don’t we meet at home?” Brittany interrupted.
Tate felt Brittany’s words scrape over her skin. She couldn’t do this. “You know, it’s been a really long night – a long week, really. I don’t think I will do breakfast. You guys go on without me. Jace, I’ll see you later, okay?”
Jace untangled himself from Brittany and moved to her. Wrapping her face in his hands he looked with concern into her eyes. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, just a little headache. Please, you two go and catch up. I’ll see you tomorrow or whenever.”
With a last smile, Tate turned to move away. Jace pulled her closer to him when she went to pass. “I’m sorry, but our… plans for later will have to be placed on hold. Please join us for breakfast. We’ll go someplace nearby.” he said as he tried to see past the mask she’d slipped over her features. “What do you say?”
Not sure what to say, she simply nodded.
“I have to work tomorrow, but let’s plan on dinner on Monday at my place,” he said beseechingly.
She smiled and nodded, refusing to show the hurt and confusion she felt. She reminded herself: Take what he offers and don’t ask for anything more.
Breakfast was a horrifying event. While Jace sat next to her and held her hand, Brit – short for Brittany, she’d learned – monopolized him. It felt as if it was them pitted against her.
Brit was courteous and friendly to her, but the bulk of their time in the restaurant was spent rehashing their past lives together. Brittany was even more beautiful close up, even in the harsh lights of the restaurant – in her little short red suit and pearls. It was obvious, she, like Jace, came from a good family and money. It showed Tate, as nothing else had, that she didn’t belong in Jace’s world. After an hour of ‘do you remember’ and ‘remember that time’, Tate had had enough. But fear kept her rooted next to him.
As she quietly sat on one side of Jace and Brittany on the other, Tate listened as they moved beyond their past memories.
“How long have you’ve been singing in a band again?” Brittany said.
“About a month, it’s been a nice outlet.”
“I can only imagine. How’s work?” she asked.
“Hectic, crazy, insane. I’ll be glad when my internship is over,” Jace responded.
“Are you coming home then?” she asked with a pleading tone in her voice.
Jace smiled at her. “We’ll see.”
Tate tensed next to him.
“When is your internship over?” Brittany asked.
“Uh, I think I have another three months,” Jace answered.
Three months? Tate swallowed at how short that span of time was. Three months and then he’d move along.
“Have you already begun to send out feelers for other jobs?” Brittany asked.
“I’d begun that process months ago. I’ve sent several resumes out to several larger hospitals,” Jace answered.
Tate swallowed. How did she not know this? She felt as if there was a whole other side she didn’t know of Jace Staton.
“Well, I hope at least some of those resumes were sent in our direction,” Brittany said.
“Of course,” he smiled.
“What are your plans once you finish school?” Brittany asked Tate.
She felt Jace’s stare but didn’t glance up. “I haven’t really made any decisions yet.”
Placing an arm over her shoulders to bring her closer to him, he said, “I’m hoping she’ll agree to come wherever I am.”
“We’ll see,” Tate murmured noncommittally.
The hand which had been rubbing up and down her arm stilled, but she didn’t look up.
Not thinking she could endure any more small talk with Brittany Alexander, and with her headache back in full force, Tate begged off and went home.
Later, she lay in bed – alone, missing Jace’s presence. She longed to have the right to fight for her position with him, but a lifetime of insecurities forced her to remember – take what’s given, don’t ask for more. She couldn’t stop her mind from imaging Jace and Brit in his apartment, sitting together on his couch – the couch she’d made love to him on numerous times – with their heads together, reminiscing about past good times. Tate knew she needed to prepare herself for the inevitable. Her chest burned and her heart twisted painfully. Brit was a better fit for Jace, with her cheery, red suit and white pearls. She’d be a perfect match, the perfect swan.
Three months and Jace would be gone – probably back in West Palm Beach – and if Brittany had anything to do with it – not with her. Three months wasn’t long enough. She wasn’t ready yet. Her heart twisted. It’d be so easy for him to return to the life he’d had before… with his parents… and Britt. Her chest felt as if a ten-pound weight had been placed on it. She buried her face in her pillow and concentrated on breathing deep. Tate knew she needed to prepare herself for the inevitable.
She was in the car with her father and he gave her the speech she’d heard several times before. “Do whatever is asked, even if it makes you uncomfortable. Nothing in life is free, remember?”
Turning in her seat, she saw Dr. Randall giving her a small shake of her head. “Your foundation is crumbling. Did you really think you could actually fix it? You really are crazy.”
Shifting her gaze to the person sitting beside the doctor, her breath caught in her throat. Nick Tracey sat with a smirk curling his lips as he twirled a curling iron in his hands. “You were so tight. I ruined you for all men.”
She turned back to her father. “I ruined you long before he came along.”
She swallowed and turned to face straight ahead, struggling to understand. Eventually, the car pulled in the driveway of Bradley Rivers’ parents’ house.
She looked questioningly at her father. “I have a surprise for you, princess.”
She rubbed a hand against the pain in her chest. He only called her princess when it was something bad… ver
y bad. With trepidation, she stared up at the house and gasped when Mr. Smith opened the door and came to the car and opened her car door. She placed her trembling hand into his and allowed him to lead her into the house. Her heart was really pounding now and she could barely breathe. She tried to pull away from Mr. Smith when he began leading her towards the game room, but her father, Dr. Randall, and Nick were all behind, her pushing her forward, their fingers like steely knives.
Her heart really began to pound at the entrance of the game room. She tried to close her eyes against whatever was in the room, but they refused to shut. The room was shrouded in a layer of mist and she struggled to see in front of her. Little by little, images made themselves known. In the middle of the room, she could make out the massive pool table. Fear, more immense than she’d ever known, drew her to the green felt-covered table. With her limbs trembling, she stepped closer and closer until she saw there were two people on the pool table. She couldn’t make out who they were at first. After another step, she gasped. On the pool table, lying on top of her red suit and a set of Jace’s scrubs, was Brit. She was naked, her white skin almost luminescent and pure. Her head was thrown back in passion and she yelled Jace’s name. Jace was between her legs pounding into her, groaning his pleasure.
Turning his head, as he continued to slide in and out, he gave her a sad smile. “I’m sorry, but I never belonged in your squalid existence.”
She longed to scream but had no voice. She longed to pound him with her fist and beg him, but she was paralyzed. All she could do was stand and watch as the couple continued to move and groan.
She cringed when she heard Jace say, “I love you, Brit. I always have. I’m ready to come home now.”
Looking up, she could see her angel, the one who’d always been on her side – her comfort.
But the angel only smiled sadly as Jace had done. “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t have strayed from the path. I tried to warn you.”
Tate woke as fear ripped through her. She really had strayed from her path and she was in deep trouble. She didn’t know if she could make it back this time. Nothing that had happened to her in the past – not what her father had done, not what Nick had done, nothing was as painful as this. And she’d known better… she known better than to get involved. When his internship was over in three months, he’d be gone and she’d be a far-off, distant memory. He might miss her at first, but eventually, she would fade from his mind and he’d move on to someone else. It was obvious Brittany wouldn’t have any qualms about filling her shoes. She clamped her hands over her ears as if that could stop the image of Jace stroking into Brit’s perfect body.
When she’d calmed somewhat, Tate glanced at the clock, it was nearly five a.m. She’d gotten about an hour of sleep and knew she’d not get any more. Slipping from the bed, she cringed when her foot kicked the bottle of chocolate syrup which had been kicked partially under the bed. Picking it up, she threw it into the wicker wastebasket. She brushed her teeth and hair, before throwing on some workout clothes. She hopped on her bike and rode through the quiet, dark, Sunday morning.
Using her keycard, she entered the gym and stepped to the treadmill. At this time of morning, especially on a Sunday, the place was deserted. She plugged in ear buds attached to her iPod, and turned the volume up as loud as it would go. She closed her eyes and ran. She continued running, even when her chest burned. She continued to run when her legs began to burn. She continued to run when sweat began to pour down her face. But no matter how long or how hard she ran, the pain in her chest… in her heart, refused to be extinguished. After showering, she taught her two-hour self-defense class, leapt onto her bike, and rode until she reached the bike trail. Putting her ear buds back in, she turned the music up once more. Heading off onto the trail, she rode and rode, but still the pain lingered.
It was dark when she arrived home. Mentally and physically she was tired. She thought long and hard and knew what she’d always known: Jace needed to move on. She knew he’d fight it in the beginning. But eventually, he’d come to see the truth of the situation. Their existences in life were on alternative universes. He just needed to return to his. I’ve ruined you for all men, Nick had said in her dream. Well, he wasn’t alone.
She’d left her cellphone on her dresser purposefully. She saw where Jace had tried to call her periodically throughout the day. She closed her eyes against the pain spiraling in her chest. She deleted the messages without listening to them. Taking the coward’s way out, but not wanting him showing up at her apartment, she texted him: Sorry, was at the gym, then the bike trail, and forgot my phone. Hope you’re having a nice visit. See you tomorrow.
When she tried to sleep, different versions of the same dream from the night before plagued her. She finally gave up when Mr. Smith backed her up against the pool table and ran his dirty, grubby hands down her body and whispered, “This is the world you belong in.”
She rose from the bed, knowing she’d not get any more sleep, and put the coffeepot on. She hated the thought she didn’t even have school to distract her this week because of Spring Break. When light began to streak across the sky, she dressed, hopped on her bike, and headed back to the bike trail. She needed to separate herself from Jace… for both their sakes. Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought of never being with him again.
Later in the day, after receiving a message from Jace, begging her to join them for dinner, she texted back once again: I’m so sorry, I won’t be able to make dinner. Was able to get into a one-night-only Personal Trainer class. Please extend my apologies to your company. See you soon.
So that she didn’t actually have to add lying to her long list of travesties, Tate called Teto at the gym and begged to just sit in on his class. He was reluctant, but finally agreed.
Teto’s class ran long and it was midnight when she biked home. She’d had approximately three hours sleep in nearly thirty-six hours and she was bleary when she showered, slid in between the sheets, leaving the bathroom light on with the door cracked, and drifted off into a thankfully dreamless sleep.
It was sometime around four a.m. when she was nudged gently from her much-needed sleep by the feel of hands brushing up her skin beneath her nightgown. She smiled at the sensation and the familiar smell of Dr. Jace Staton. He pushed her gown over her head and laid his already naked skin against hers.
“I missed you,” he whispered.
“Mmmm. I’ve missed you, too,” she whispered back as sleep began to recede from her mind. She told herself, just this one last time, then she’d be strong enough to resist him.
She moaned when his lips found her breasts and shuddered when he blazed a fiery trail down her stomach and below. As fire settled in her belly and her desire wound her tight, she begged for relief from the raging storm within. He rose up over her and kissed her sweetly before lowering himself into her. With long, measured strides he, like the musician he was, played her body with alternative soft touches then aggressive, needful ones. Like one of his guitars, he tuned and touched, tightened, then released; the strings within becoming tight and taunt beneath his strokes.
Tears flooded her eyes at the beauty of his touch. Passion, want, need, desire, and fire consumed her as he continued to stroke, slow and easy.
“Please, please. I can’t endure it. Please faster. I need you faster. I need you now,” she begged.
He laughed in her ear. “I got you. Not yet. Just wait. You feel so good. I want you so much.”
She arched her back at his words as her legs stiffened around him.
“Oh, God!” she cried, throwing her head back.
Her cries incited his passion, causing him to ignite, and his strides became harder and faster. What started as soft and easy was now fast and furious, wild and untamed. He rained kisses over her face and neck and nipped against her skin, crazed by passion. Finally, he reached his peak and called out her name.
“Tate, I love you,” he moaned.
He fell to his elbows, leaning his
forehead between her breasts, gasping for air.
Once he could breathe, he raised his head and stared into her eyes. “Where have you been?” he asked softly.
Knowing he didn’t mean the missed dinner, she whispered, “Right here.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she answered after a brief hesitation.
“Are we okay?”
“Yes,” she answered after an even longer hesitation, her chest tightening.
“Tate, you’re what I want.”
“I know,” she whispered, but the words, for now, flitted across her mind.
“Brittany will be gone in a day or two and our lives can go on as before. Okay?”
Instead of answering, she pulled him down to her and held him against her breasts. She lightly stroked his hair as they drifted back off to sleep.
When she next opened her eyes, he was gone.
Chapter 8
The next afternoon, Jace called, but Tate let it go to voicemail. She’d already learned she couldn’t be strong when he was around. Her muscles ached from all of her excessive exercise and she had a severe headache from her broken sleep patterns. She thought about making an appointment with Dr. Randall, but knew there was no cure for what ailed her.
She was in the middle of heating soup when her cellphone rang again. Assuming it was Jace again, she exhaled deeply and glanced at the screen. It was Zeal’s. With raised eyebrows, she clicked it on.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Tate. It’s Ramona. I’ve got someone here who wants to talk to you. I didn’t want to give him any of your personal information, so can you come down?”
“Do you know who it is?”
“Yep. He gave me his card. It’s a detective from Illinois. A Detective Alan Tracey.”
Tate couldn’t contain her gasp. Alan Tracey? What was he doing here? It probably had to do with Nick; it was the only explanation.
“I’ll be right down. Thanks, Ramona.”
Tate turned off the stovetop, and pulled her hair back into its standard ponytail, and made her way down to Zeal’s. Her stomach fluttered with an attack of nerves. While he’d always sent a card on her birthday, she’d not seen Alan Tracey in eight years.
