“Great. Good news. Megan and Sabrina have bonded?”
He seems to be slipping too—that wasn’t all that covert.
“Yes, like two peas in a pod. We’ve been busy here so Megan hasn’t spent a lot of time with her yet. I’ll work on that.”
“You’ve been busy? How are things between you two?”
I know exactly what he’s asking—it was a big point in his mind when we discussed all this in the beginning. Meg would blow a gasket if she knew I was discussing our sex life like this. I look around half expecting to find her behind me. “That’s going really well too.”
“You mean…?”
“Yes. Everything’s going exactly like we hoped. It’s time to cut back on checking in.” That was a part of the plan, too.
“Maybe.” His voice says otherwise.
I end the call and stare at the monitors for a while. I could have shown this phone to Meg when I had her here, but that would require even more explaining. I call Sabrina.
“Hello,” she says quietly. That’s how she answers when it’s this number. There’s an unsettling and stark difference between the behind-the-scenes quiet, reserved Sabrina and the bubbly, over-talkative Sabrina that she uses for her role.
“I talked to Harris and told him everything is going great.”
“Is it? Megan seemed a little shell shocked at dinner.”
“That’s expected, don’t you think? I knew she wouldn’t accept everything and go along for the ride. But she’s coming around slowly. I need you to spend some more time with her. Take her down to the gym or something. Maybe you could do that and Christmas shop together.”
“She doesn’t have anyone to shop for,” Sabrina reminds me dryly. “Outside of you.”
“Then do girl stuff,” I say, exasperated, but immediately remind myself that Sabrina doesn’t have to do everything she is for us. “Sorry, Sage… do you mind?”
“No, I don’t mind.” Her voice sounds lighter.
We were both prepared for this to be difficult, like any mission. But this time around, it’s personal. It’s our lives. For once, we weren’t really prepared.
***
“I want to open gifts tonight,” I tell Megan on Christmas Eve. The sun is setting and I have the tree turned on, a few candles lit, clam chowder on the stove, and soft music playing. The growing darkness outside makes it even cozier inside.
Meg is wearing a pretty flower shirt and leather pants. She did a spa day with Sage, and the highlights in her hair contrast with her brown brows.
“Aren’t you being hopeful?” she teases with an eyebrow raised and a rare smile on her face. Well, not so rare lately.
“I can’t wait any longer,” I explain. “I want to see you open yours.”
I take her hand and pull her toward the tree. We both kneel down and I reach between the branches to get a small box.
“When did you hide that there?” she asks, then holds it for a minute, looking at it.
Emotion hits me too. Did we finally make it over that hurdle of disbelief? Sex has brought us much closer, but more importantly, she might be finally opening her heart to me. When she looks up at me, her eyes are shiny.
“Open it!” I urge.
She tentatively pulls off the ribbon and the paper. I watch her eyes widen as she opens the box. “Eli… I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
She pulls the necklace out. The braided gold heart twirls on the end of the gold strand, glittering in the Christmas tree lights. There’s tiny diamonds in the braids of the heart.
“It matches my ring.”
I take the necklace and scoot behind her to do the clasp. Once it’s secure, I lay a soft kiss on her neck and wrap my arms around her. She’s still holding the heart, looking at it.
I start to pick up another gift for her.
“No, you open one.” She reaches for a box. “I really didn’t know what to get you.”
“I got the best present I could wish for when you woke up.” I open my gift and find nice leather gloves and a green, long sleeve shirt.
“For when we go out,” she says. “I thought you look really good in that shade of green.”
I lean forward to kiss her. She meets me halfway, and this time she doesn’t pull away but brings her hand up to the back of my neck. I can’t resist her. Never mind the other presents. I reach for her waist and slide her to me, purposely kissing her breathless so she can’t resist me either.
We bought a new rug during the week, and I roll us onto it, pulling her shirt off in the same motion. We kiss while I slip her leather pants down her hips. As I pull them the rest of the way off, I lean down and kiss the dip by her hipbone and then make a trail down her leg. She pulls on my shirt but I want to tease her until she can’t take it anymore—I don’t let her take my clothes off.
“Let’s do a scene from Titanic,” I say as I pull her panties down her legs. “I want to see you in this necklace. Only this necklace…”
She arches her back and I undo her bra. “Are you going to draw me?”
“Would you like that?” I kiss down her body again, and then back up. I make sure not to actually touch her most sensitive places but run my mouth around in teasing circles.
“Eli…”
“Do you want me?
“Yes!”
“Yes, what?” I’m hard and aching with desire but I want to prolong it. I want her to need me as badly as I need her.
“Yes, I want you.”
“Do you need me?”
She answers by wrapping her legs around me and pulling herself up to me. I meet her, unable to deny us any longer.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
*
Megan
A few snowflakes fall outside but it’s too dry and cold for anything more to happen. I want snow to brighten the dreary landscape. It gets dark at four thirty, and during the day it’s cloudy so everything looks faded.
The kettle whistles and I go to make a cup of orange spice tea and take it to the sofa. Now that we’re working together, the rest of the house is going fast, and I discovered I enjoy working on it. My body is up to full speed again. We’ve gone to the gym several times now. Maybe we’re building a life here after all, despite my doubts and lingering questions. It feels like I’m leading a double life: Megan the good wife and Megan the doubter.
I’ve been on recon, looking for any more clues. I’d even told myself I would give it until the new year before deciding anything, which is tomorrow. A new year, a new start? I scoff at that thought. I already got a fresh start with a completely fresh, blank slate. I only want my memory back.
So far, I don’t have any more information to help me decide, and I’m not sure what I’m deciding. If I believe him? If I want to buy into his story and this life? Or if I want to report him to the authorities? That doesn’t feel like a real option, not after TJ Leavey didn’t find anything when he checked into Eli and me.
“Hey, I was thinking,” Eli says as he walks in from the unfinished part, dusting his hands together. There’s plaster droplets splattered on his jeans and dirt smears on his white undershirt that shows off his arms. “Want to go out with Nick and Sabrina tonight? There’s a couple places here in Sandy or we could all drive into Portland.”
He comes over by the sofa, glances down at his dirty clothes, and remains standing. “We could dress up. I hear I clean up pretty nice.”
Just as I start to answer, the lights flicker. Alarm flashes in his eyes. It’s gone quickly but I remember how the lights flashed the day I was questioning him, and the next second Sabrina ran in the front door screaming because their car fell on Nick.
“I wonder if there’s a storm somewhere,” I say, trying to be nonchalant. “I saw snowflakes a bit ago.”
“There could be…” Eli’s forehead furrows and he glances around. “Or maybe the breaker. I’m going to check on it.”
What on earth is that about?
As soon as Eli is outside, I grab the small flashlight fro
m the kitchen drawer and run through the plastic into the dark, unfinished section. At the hidden monitors, I open the board and enter the code to open the metal door. Glancing at the screens, I spot him in the backyard, crouching behind the wall by the weights to look across the yard.
The lights must have warned him, but what about? Was someone on the property?
I only wanted to see what he was doing, but now that I’m here I remember that cubby. I grab the handle I had spotted before and pull it out. It is a bag like I thought: a red canvas backpack with a pattern of some sort. Definitely a woman’s bag, which is interesting, and it feels halfway full. My curiosity takes over.
I pull the top open and suck in my breath. The bottom half of the bag is full of money, banded together in stacks. I pick up a pack and see it’s a mix of hundreds, fifties and twenties. Others are all fifties and twenties. Maybe twenty thousand dollars all together?
I was foolish for trusting Eli…and for sleeping with him. He didn’t tell me everything.
Feeling around more, I find a black gun. I slowly lift it out of the money and feel it in my hand. It’s a Glock 22. Why do I think it’s police issued? It’s loaded and I see more ammo under the money.
Something else in the bag catches my eye. I pull out a folded piece of paper that’s been crumpled up and flattened. I scan it:
No family, no friends, no Facebook, no contacts
One photo of us – possibly photoshopped?
DL in my name, my face.
My lipstick. Could have been mine in my real life?
My heart drops out of my chest. My lungs deflate and refuse to pull in air. I wrote this list in the hospital and gave it to TJ.
How did Eli get it? Was TJ so worried about me he that talked to Eli and gave it to him? I can’t believe he’d betray me like this. Why does this hurt so much? Why did I think he cared?
I can’t wait around here for more evidence, and I can’t believe Eli’s new story any more than the old one. There were so many times before that I thought about running, but I didn’t have a reason to act. Now I do. If nothing else, I have to fight back somehow.
I close both doors and hurry back through the house to the bedroom, where I stuff the bag with two shirts, a pair of pants, underclothes, and a few toiletries.
My heart is beating so hard I’m going to throw up—it feels like everything in my abdomen is trying to rush up my throat. I race to the front of the house, grab my wallet out of my purse and shove it in the bag, pull on my coat and shoes, and slip out of the door, closing it as softly as I can.
It’s black and quiet outside. I listen for a second, giving my eyes time to adjust, before I creep across the yard to the street. Instead of following it, I run straight into the bushes on the other sides, running away from the house. The ground is uneven under the bushes but I refuse to slow down.
After five, maybe ten, minutes I duck down and listen again, holding my breath even though it’s painful. I don’t hear Eli crunching through the branches or yelling. By now he must realize I’m not there. He’s frantically searching for me—or methodically. Eli isn’t frantic about anything.
I’m not sure how long I listen, or how long I was running for that matter. I hear road noise and jump into a sprint. My left leg catches on a vines and I stumble. Somehow I keep upright and race on, only to trip countless more times.
Minutes pass by in slow motion. I’m sure Eli will tackle me any second. The road is coming up. Light flashes in my face. There’s an intersection ahead.
I shove my way through the bare branches, slowing down only once I’m close to the road. Pain shoots through my ankles and legs now that I have time to feel it. Carefully, I pick my way to the road while trying to put my clothes and hair back in order. Headlights go by—not speeding but not slowly either so I don’t think it was Eli looking for me. I watch for a minute, fighting panic, and I realize I’m close enough to the businesses in town that I should walk that way.
I can’t help but limp for the first few steps. Had it really been necessary to run through the brushy field? Too late to ponder that now.
Staying out of sight, I make my way into Sandy and walk down an alley, watching my back as much as I can. I still want to limp but I also don’t want to draw attention to myself, in case anyone is watching.
But I have no choice: I have to sit down and let my legs and lungs recover. The outside of my legs are burning from the cold and the inside from running, on top of the pain in my ankles from stumbling through the field. My hands are vibrating with energy, fear, regret.
I had to run, I keep telling myself. He’s lied to me over and over. How could I stay there? He had all this money, a gun, my note from the hospital… TJ took that paper and said he’d throw it away for me.
The hurt cuts deep. Why did Eli do all of this? Why does he lie to me when he clearly cares about me?
I still can’t believe I broke free, that I’m here. But I can’t stay in one place like this, so I force myself to stand up. My legs are stiff, the joints throbbing. My nose is running and my stomach growing. I lean over to rest my hands on my legs.
Noise bursts out above me—my heart comes out my throat. I jump and hit my back against the brick wall behind me. I cry out, but cut it short. There’s gunshots and whistles…
What the hell?
Oh… It’s New Year’s Eve celebrations. It’s midnight.
I get moving and cut through a cross alley to the main street. A man is leaving a restaurant up ahead. He looks alone at first so I slow my pace. Then two more men step out, talking and laughing with each other and the first man. I missed that before because I can’t hear over my freaking heartbeat thumping in my head.
He slaps one on the back and bumps fists with the other. They wave and the two who came out second start off down the street together. The first man walks my way, pulling out his keys. The car right next to me blinks its lights. He’s humming as he walks, his shoulders swaying.
I stop and wait, but he doesn’t seem to notice me until he’s right next to his car. I know people usually ignore others. We don’t seem to see each other unless we’re already acquainted.
“Excuse me,” I say uncertainly. It’s to my advantage that I sound a bit scared, I decide. He squints my way—he’s in a tweed coat, black rimmed glasses, and a shaved head and face. Hipster. City boy. “I, um… Are you headed back to Portland by any chance?”
He tilts his head, looking me over.
“I had a fight with my boyfriend and I’m stranded.” I try for a smile.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay… I just don’t want him to find me tonight. I could really use a lift. I can help pay for gas.” As I speak, I see him softening.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m happy to help.”
His voice is hesitant, but I can tell he’s worried that I’m in real danger. Is my face scratched up? He hits the key fob again to unlock the passenger side. I open the door before he can change his mind, or Eli can spot me, and get in quickly.
“I’m Rose.” I hold out my hand.
“Dean.”
We shake hands. His is warm and strong. Mine must feel freezing to him.
“Thank you so much for helping me.”
He starts the car and I have to force myself to remain facing forward—until he starts off, and then I scan the street on both sides. The street looks clear ahead of us, and I don’t see anything in my mirror. No Eli. No light blue Toyota or his big truck.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I will be.” I sit back, take a deep breath.
“Do you need to go to the police station?”
“Oh, no. Thank you, but no. I’ll be fine.” I tried the police already… My heart hurts over TJ. Is there a reason I so readily trusted him? A reason why this hurts so much? Maybe he didn’t betray me; maybe he simply talked to Eli because he was worried about me and somehow gave Eli the list I’d made.
Dean glances in the rear view mirror. I ch
eck the side mirror, wondering if I made him paranoid. There isn’t a vehicle behind us. I don’t see how this man could be in with Eli, but I glance sideways several times to check on him. I have a loaded gun in the bag.
He starts talking, and I glance over at Dean again. For once, I want to take someone at face value.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
*
Eli
“I did check the tracking device,” I tell Nick and Sabrina. “It’s in the field west of here.” I pace the length of the dining room, running my hand over my hair. We should have met down in their basement but I’m not in the mood to move our meeting.
“She knew about it?” Nick frowns even deeper and stares at the floor.
“I don’t think so. My guess is it either caught on the branches out there or got knocked loose.” This might be the first time I’ve ever lied to them. I’m not sure it would help to admit I had it removed in the hospital. “She left her cell phone,” I add, “but took her wallet. She’s too smart to use anything that would alert us though.”
I should have told her the truth—the real truth. Screw her plan. She put all of this on me, so it was up to me to make the right decision on this end.
“Ellison, we have to call this in,” Sabrina says with a glance at Nick to get him to back her up. Her arms are crossed. I can read the worry in her eyes and the vertical line forming between her eyebrows.
“No, Harris doesn’t hear about this. Period.” I look at Nick too. Now we’re both staring at him. A minute passes; Nick has always been slow to come to a decision but he sticks with it once he does.
“We don’t have a reason to tell him, so let’s keep him out of this. It was supposed to be the four of us anyway,” Nick says quietly.
I swing around and punch my fist through the drywall.
“Eli!”
I face them. “It hasn’t been the four of us. Meg had no idea of what was going on. What is going on.”
Stranger in my Bed (full series) Page 14
