Running Away With You (Running #3)

by Suzanne Sweeney

  “Do you think you can dress yourself?” he asks as he stands with me in his arms, his clothes dripping wet and clinging tightly to him.

  My head is still fuzzy, but I nod and mutter a barely coherent, “Yes.”

  Evan strips off his clothes and tosses them into the shower. I stand frozen in place as he opens drawers, gathering clean, dry clothes and placing them on our bed.

  By the time I stumble into the bedroom, Evan is fully dressed. His hair is wet and tousled in every direction. I pull on my clothes and stand there, staring him. “We need to talk,” I tell him.

  “Let’s go sit down and you can tell me what happened.” Evan leads me into the living room. He pours each of us a glass of white wine. My body shivers as an icy chill runs down my spine. I can’t seem to get warm or comfortable. Evan responds by igniting the fireplace, bathing the room in a warm, soft glow.

  He sits on the opposite end of the couch from me, depriving me of his touch and comfort. But he’s here. He came when I called and he held me when I needed him. That will have to be enough for now.

  I decide it’s best if I just cut right to the chase. “Evan, I think we’re in trouble. The police were here asking questions about David. They want to interview us at the police station tomorrow.”

  “Do you know why?” he asks.

  “All I know is that David disappeared. He’s missing, and my number was one of the last ones he called. They want to know why he was in Indianapolis.”

  “Juliette, think very carefully. Did you tell the police anything at all? Did you tell them anything about our situation?”

  I don’t have to think. “Absolutely not, Evan. I’m done making bad decisions. I’m not going to say or do anything until our attorney tells me I should.”

  “Good. I’m going to call Gavin Wolff, but before I do, I need to know everything. Why do you think the police want to talk to you? If the police read your texts, what would they find?”

  “I only texted him twice. Both times were to set up places and times to meet. That’s not good, is it?”

  “Probably not,” he agrees. “And they told you they wanted to speak with me too?” he asks.

  “They did.” He can’t look at me. It’s tearing me up inside. “I don’t blame you for hating me. I know how badly I fucked up, Evan. I really do. But I need you.” I pull the blanket off the back of the couch and wrap it around myself.

  “Juliette, I need time. I can’t stop thinking about David touching you.”

  He takes a sip of wine, and then continues. “I was doing everything in my power to keep that scumbag away from you. I knew it was just a matter of time before all of this got back to you, and I was hoping that I could find a way to get him to back off. Permanently.”

  “Someone may have taken care of that already.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. You’re going to have to trust me right now. I’m going into my office to call our attorney. Is there anything at all you haven’t told me? Anything else I need to know?”

  I nod. “He threatened me.”

  “He what?” Evan asks.

  “When I stopped him and told him to leave, he told me he was going to make me pay,” I reluctantly admit.

  “We’ll see about that,” Evan mutters as he hurries into his office.

  As soon as Evan leaves the room, Maddy pushes her nose under my arm, looking for some affection. She’s a smart dog. She knows I’m hurting right now. She gives me some puppy-dog kisses, and for a brief moment I’m happy. I turn on the television for some company while I wait.

  Thanks to the painkillers I took, my eyes are growing quite heavy. A strangely familiar tingle runs down my spine, but when I glance around the room, Evan is nowhere to be seen. Then I see him, as big as life, right there on the television screen. ESPN has non-stop coverage of the post-season playoffs, and all eyes are on rookie quarterback Evan “Big Mac” McGuire.

  I turn up the volume just in time to hear a rebroadcast of an interview he gave not that long ago. His handsome face and unmistakable voice are the last things I remember as I slip into a deep sleep.

  Something wakes me from my slumber. A pair of strong arms is holding me. Cool, crisp sheets are beneath me and my head is resting on a soft, fluffy pillow. I struggle to open my eyes, and when I do, I’m rewarded with a blurry image of Evan as he tucks me into our bed.

  “You’re not staying with me tonight, are you?” I groggily ask him.

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  As I fall back into a restless slumber, I hear the faint whisper of Evan’s voice. “I’ll always love you.” Is he saying goodbye?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Burden of Proof

  I’ve been alone in the house many times before, but never for more than a single night. It’s now been three days since I woke up in the same bed with Evan. It feels like a lifetime.

  Tonight is New Year’s Eve. We’re all supposed to attend Derek’s first party in his new home. It’s going to be extremely uncomfortable for everyone, especially me. There are bound to be questions, and I have no idea how I’m going to answer them all.

  I need to get out of this house and clear my head. I get into the car and drive to my favorite local coffee shop, Green Planet Coffee Company. It’s Tuesday morning in the dead of winter, and the streets are desolate. I park the car right in front of the store entrance. Empty Adirondack chairs covered in a dusting of snow sit in wait along the sidewalk. Images of past meetings with Evan here flash through my mind.

  I push those painful memories to the side and head inside. There’s nothing quite like the aroma of fresh coffee. It awakens the senses and has an immediate calming effect. I don’t know why, and frankly, I don’t care.

  I look through the display cases, trying to decide what sort of pastry I’m going to treat myself with today. There are scones, muffins, cookies, brownies, and so much more it’s nearly impossible to decide. But then I spot the one thing I can’t refuse, an apple turnover. It reminds me of the very first specialty drink we ever created at Rush. Derek made it as an homage to Evan.

  When it’s time to order, I ask for an assortment of pastries, including the turnover. I also order a chai, a latte, and a macchiato. I’m thinking about swinging over to Auggie’s house with breakfast and coffee in hand. He might not be alone, so I take enough for three.

  While I wait to collect my beverages, the bell on the door chimes as another customer enters, bringing in a rush of cold air. I shudder and my mind goes right to Evan. Whenever he’s near, I have the same physical reaction. Sometimes it’s like a jolt of electricity that goes running through me. Other times it’s more like a dull throb that begins deep within and radiates all the way to my fingertips.

  My hands are full as I push my way through the door, ass first. With my hands overflowing with hot beverages and pastries, I wonder how I’m going to open my car door without dropping anything. The moment I swing around and face my car, that question is answered. Standing there, leaning on my car with his arms crossed, is Evan, all bundled up and smiling at me.

  I try to act indifferent and detached, but it’s impossible for me to hide the elation I feel when I see him. He grins widely when he sees me, showing off his pearly white teeth and ridiculously adorable dimples. Always the gentleman, he takes the tray of drinks from me with one hand and opens my car door with the other. “That’s a lot of coffee for one person, Juliette. Have you replaced me already?” he asks.

  “Oh my God, Evan! How could you say such a thing? I would never ... ” I can’t finish that sentence. I’ve done things I never thought I would, and Evan knows it.

  Evan’s smile fades too. “I know,” he says dryly. “It’s not a very funny joke.”

  He helps me put my pastries and coffee in the car, careful not to get too close. Instead of getting into the car too, I stand on the sidewalk and face him, waiting for him to say something to give me an indication of what he’s thinking. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he says.


  “I don’t understand,” I tell him, not quite sure how to interpret that remark.

  “I’m trying to remember what it’s like to live alone and fend for myself. But everywhere I look, you’re there. It seems I can’t even get a cup of coffee without you.”

  I reach out to touch him, and he backs away from me. “Don’t,” he warns.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean ... I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to ... ”

  “Yeah, me too.” We stand there for a moment, studying each other. My heart aches for him, and from the look on his face, I’d say the feeling is mutual. “Listen, are you going to be home later?” he asks.

  I nod. “I’m baking for the party tonight.”

  “I’m waiting to hear back from Gavin Wolff about the police investigation. As soon as I do, can I come over?”

  “Evan, it’s your home. Please don’t ask me that. You make it sound like you don’t live there anymore.”

  “I don’t,” he says as he walks away.

  As soon as he’s inside the coffee shop, I get into my car and drive away, heading straight for Auggie’s house. I’m twisted into knots. Evan acts like he still loves me, but his words say otherwise. I need someone to talk to before I lose my mind.

  As luck would have it, Auggie’s not home. I’d bet my bottom dollar he spent the night at Lucas’ house. I run through a list of the people I could visit, and I completely strike out. I don’t want to disturb Emmy at this hour. She’s been having bouts of morning sickness and the acrid scent of bitter coffee might set her off. Reese is a late sleeper, and it’s entirely too early to bother her.

  With no options left, I return home to an empty house and start baking. For tonight, I’ve decided to make two cheesecakes, amaretto cake pops, and homemade churros with chocolate dipping sauce.

  While I’m baking, it’s easy to pretend everything is normal. I tell myself that Evan is at practice and he’ll call when he’s on his way home. Just knowing he plans on coming home at some point today gives me hope.

  Hours go by without a word from Evan. The cheesecakes are almost done, so I head into the garage to find my stash of pastry boxes. As I’m rummaging through some of my storage containers, I stumble upon the one from my college dorm. Not realizing what it is, I peel off the lid and peer inside. Sitting atop my odds and ends is my Magic Eight Ball.

  Considering everything that’s happened over the last few weeks, I can’t resist asking my old friend a few questions. So I give the ball a shake and let fate tell me what it knows.

  “Did someone hurt David?” Yes

  “Will he survive?” Very doubtful

  “Am I a suspect?” You may rely on it

  “Did Evan have anything to do with it?” Ask again later

  “Is Evan Kai’s father?” Reply hazy, try again

  “Will Evan ever forgive me?” Outlook good

  “Is Evan going to make it to the Super Bowl this year?” My reply is no

  Now, I know the Magic Eight Ball is a children’s toy, but the truth is, it’s rarely wrong. At least that’s been my past experience. Just by chance and simple luck, I know that at least half of the answers are most likely spot on. The only problem is figuring out which half.

  I put away the toy, grab the pastry boxes, and go back to preparing for tonight’s party.

  My cheesecake is nearly perfect. It has a rich brownie base for a crust, chocolate rosettes frame the border, and carefully piped chocolate swirls adorn the top. If it tastes half as good as it looks, it will be a big hit tonight. Just as I close the lid on the pastry box, my phone pings with a message.

  Evan: u home? On my way over

  Jette: yes, baking for 2nite

  Evan must have been close to home when he sent that text, because I barely have time to finish cleaning up before he’s walking through the door carrying a small duffel bag. My heart leaps for joy, hoping he’s home for good.

  “Would it be okay if I did a load of laundry while I’m here?” Evan is asking me for permission to use his own washing machine.

  “Evan, please stop acting like this isn’t your home. I know you’re trying to come to terms with what happened, but living in a hotel isn’t the solution.”

  “Dr. Falkowski thinks it’s for the best, at least for now. I just need time.” He walks past me into the laundry room without any further explanation. Evan is speaking to a therapist – my therapist!

  When he comes back out, he has more to say on the subject. “By the way, the good doctor thinks it’s a good idea for you to contact him too. He’s very concerned about you.”

  “Why does he think we should be separated? I don’t see how we can work things out if we’re not together.”

  “Because I can’t think clearly when you’re near me. Despite everything that’s happened, I love you, and my instinct is to protect you and comfort you, especially now I know how you’ve been victimized by that prick. Dr. Falkowski helped me see what happened more clearly. But every time I look at you, I have images of him in your bed that I can’t erase. Knowing that it didn’t have to happen and that you invited him into your bed makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it.”

  It hurts to hear those words, but at least I understand a little better why his behavior toward me swings from one extreme to the other. “If it’s so hard to be around me, then why are you here? Couldn’t you just tell me what the attorney said over the phone?”

  “Not really. I think we should sit down and talk.” Evan grabs a water bottle from the refrigerator and takes a seat at the kitchen table.

  I turn off the stove and join him. “What did Gavin have to say?”

  “Here’s what we know. David is missing. It was an obvious forced entry. They found blood. Lots of it, actually. It doesn’t look good, Juliette.”

  “And they have his phone, so that means they have my text messages too. Right?”

  “Yours and mine,” he confirms.

  “Yours? Why were you texting with David?” I ask. It seems there’s more to this puzzle than I realized.

  “I didn’t know it at the time, but David is the one who sent me the text about your hotel rendezvous.” Evan is sitting at the table and I can feel his leg twitching as he taps his toes a mile a minute. “There’s more,” he admits.

  “More? Evan, you’re scaring me,” I tell him, barely holding it together.

  “You should be scared. And you should not, under any circumstances, speak to the police without Gavin present. They think one of us might have killed David, Juliette. They’re going to execute a search warrant of the house tomorrow. Lucky for us, today’s a holiday and they couldn’t find a judge.”

  My ears are ringing and I have a knot in the pit of my stomach. “Search warrant? What are they looking for?”

  “Evidence of extortion. If you still have anything David sent you, you need to get rid of it all tonight, starting with the picture you showed me last night. Are there others?”

  “There are,” I tell him, “but not here. Auggie has one and I have one in my office at work.” I get up from my seat and walk around in circles. I don’t know what to do or how I should react. “Isn’t tampering with evidence a crime, Evan? Suppose we get caught?”

  “Juliette, you don’t seem to understand, so let me make this perfectly clear. David is missing. If they find him dead, someone is going to be charged with his murder.”

  “But why do they think it was us? They know we talked to him, but that doesn’t give us a motive to want him dead.”

  “You’re right. But the pictures of you he had scattered around his hotel room do. You need to think very hard. Both our lives are on the line right now. Aside from that picture you showed me, is there anything else in this house tying us to David?”

  Before I answer, I search my mind for anything I might have forgotten. There’s nothing else, I’m sure of it. Together, Evan and I burn the envelopes and the photographs David sent us, and then scatter the ashes in the ocean. Evan leaves to destroy the ph
otograph at the restaurant and I do the same with the picture at Auggie’s.

  Once I’m home, I have a few hours to waste until I’m expected at Derek’s. My overactive imagination is running rampant right now. I know I had absolutely nothing to do with David’s disappearance, but can I say the same about Evan?

  I’ve seen him lose control before, nearly sending Ryker to the hospital in a fit of rage. The memory is crystal-clear and seared into my mind. But this is different. This is not the effect of someone losing control and attacking another person in anger. This was done with clarity and forethought. How far would Evan go to protect me? I must admit, I can’t answer that question with confidence.

  I can’t stand being alone in this house any longer than absolutely necessary, so I pack my treats and walk next door to Derek’s. Shea answers the door with a wide smile and invites me in, calling to Derek, “Honey, Jette’s here. Come say hello.” Shea hears a loud thunk and rushes off to investigate the source. I hear the unmistakable giggles of a small child. Kai must be here, somewhere.

  Derek comes out with a dishtowel casually tossed over his shoulder, drying his wet hands as he comes to greet me. “Hey, kiddo. You’re a little early. I’m just finishing up in the kitchen.” I glance around, and even though he’s only been here a few days, the house truly feels like a home. I can’t be sure if it’s the handsome man with bare feet standing before me or the beautiful young woman chasing a toddler around the house, but I get a sense of family here.

  I offer to help Derek in the kitchen, but he insists on a house tour first. I place my offerings on the dining room table and follow Derek around the house.

  Most of the interior walls have been torn down during a recent remodeling, giving the home a spacious open floor plan. On the first floor, he has a dining room, kitchen, living room, spare room, and a full bath. A small breezeway connects the main living space with the two-car garage. The three bedrooms upstairs have walk-in closets and private baths. Even though the furnishings came with the house, it’s clear Derek feels at home. I’m sure that, with time, he will add his own personal touches, and maybe even Shea’s.