by T. K. Rapp
“So what’s with the note on your computer then?”
I run my hand through my hair and groan in frustration. “What about it?”
“What about it?” he mocks and raises his voice. “Are you going to give it to her?”
“I really haven’t decided yet.”
“Then I’m guessing you didn’t call her back last night, either.” He knows the answer, he’s merely trying to make me feel worse, and it’s working. “You sound like a whiny little bitch, you know that, right?”
“You need to find someplace else to live,” I mutter like the bitch he says I am.
“No, you need to take the note to her. And the file. If she goes through with it, at least she’ll know what she’s getting herself into.”
“Why are you so concerned about Faith now? You were a shit to her when we were kids.”
“You’re a dick, you know that, right?” I’m taken aback by the bite in his tone, because in all the times he’s called me names it was never in anger; but this is different.
Jett continues, “You think I don’t know what I did to that girl? I was an asshole - I know it, she knows it - but you want to throw it in my face because you know it’s you being the dick now. At least back then I had an excuse, I was a dumbass kid who had a crush on a girl and liked to make people laugh. But I was a kid. You’re a grown-ass man hiding behind your damn ego. You need to let that shit go and grow the fuck up. Take the file to her and move on. But stop moping around here and at work like a rejected little girl.”
I have no words. His jaw is tense and hands are fisted by his side, but slowly he relaxes, all tension exiting his body. This must be something he’s had on his mind for a while. He tosses my jogging pants to me before he leaves the room. “Go get cleaned up so we can eat and then you can do what you need to do.”
I sit at the edge of my bed and give myself time to consider everything Jett mentioned to me. He and Faith did come to a truce, not that I think either of them acknowledged what he did to her, but I know they are both aware of it. She put it behind her and moved on, not holding it against him. When she has time to think, maybe she will come around and listen to what I have to say.
He’s also right about the file. I need to give it to her. What she chooses to do with the information, whether she opens it, that’s on her. Despite everything else, we became friends, and I’m frustrated she didn’t hear me out. But as her friend, I need to at least arm her with the information about the guy she’s going to marry.
Between my shower, shaving, dressing, and eating, it takes me no more than thirty minutes to get ready. Jett printed out the letter, and I’m pretty sure he read it. The note is on the counter with an envelope awaiting its fate. Before I give myself any time to think about it, I fold the note and tuck it into the envelope and write Faith’s name on the front.
Cheyenne and Jett give me approving nods, though it does little to calm my nerves. “Alright, I’ll see ya when I see ya.” I start to leave but remember my car is still parked at the bar from last night.
“Yeah, we got ya,” Jett pats my shoulder before walking past me with her hand tucked into his. “Let’s get your car so you can get your girl.”
* * *
The drive from the bar to Faith’s place isn’t long, but the entire ride, I talk to myself as I try to determine what I’m going to say to her.
Here’s evidence your fiancé is a prick who wanted to tank your career. I think that sounds too much like a bitter scorned chick.
I would have given this to you yesterday, but you wouldn’t shut up and listen. Hmm, I think that would start, yet another, fight between us.
I settle on the simple truth. Here’s everything I think you need to know.
The typically empty parking lot is full, no doubt because of the turn in weather. It’s ten degrees colder than yesterday and overcast, the type of day that people love to spend inside. I can’t find Faith’s car, so I find an open spot and grab the file to give to her.
It feels like a death march as I make my way up her stairs. I’m unsure what waits on the other side of her door, and as much as I’d love to see a smile on her lips, I’m prepared for the tongue-lashing she will probably deliver. When I reach the landing I take a moment to relax and exhale a tense breath. The fog escapes into the air in front of me, and I lift my hands to my mouth and blow into them to warm them up before knocking.
Three rapid knocks sound and I step back and wait for her to answer.
When there’s no answer, I knock again and try to peek through the slit in the blinds, but I see no movement.
“Shit,” I mutter to myself. I look around the complex and debate leaving it for her in the office, but if they don’t tell her or if she doesn’t go by there, who knows what’ll happen to it. I have no plans to come by here and do this again.
The folder in my hand moves as a blast of cold air moves past. I spot the thick, black rubber welcome mat that has grates so you can see the ground beneath. If I put the folder under it, she’ll see it when she gets home and do with the information as she chooses.
I open the folder one more time and thumb through the contents before placing it under the mat and walking away.
There’s a weight lifted off my shoulders knowing that I’ve done what I set out to do. I didn’t get to make any grand speeches or have a face to face, but it’s done. Jett mentioned she called last night; I assume it was after I left the park, but I never bothered to ask.
I walk into the apartment, and he’s sitting at the counter reading over some papers. He sets everything down and looks up at me expectantly. “So?”
I shake my head. “She wasn’t there, but I left the file for her.” I walk through the short hallway to my room and call out to him, “I’m going for a run.”
I grab a hoodie and my iPod off the dresser and walk back to the front door. He hasn’t said anything else, though I’m not sure what he could say. “I’ll be back in an hour.” I stick the earbuds in and look back at Jett who’s eyeing the papers in his hand again. “You gonna be here when I get back?”
“Yeah, probably.”
I close the door behind me and head out to my favorite jogging trails. In the summer, the paths are crowded with bikers and runners, but this time of year, it isn’t as busy. The fast-tempo music is blasting in my ears as I increase my speed, taking in my surroundings. The cold air is harsh against my face, but it numbs me to anything else and almost distracts me from thinking about Faith.
Almost.
People always talk about finding the one, but it was never something I aspired to find. I don’t look for signs, believe in fate, or any of the other crap, but it’s hard to deny there’s something bigger when I see the overall picture.
Had I not hired Elle E. Grant to plan my client event last year, I never would have met Emogen and realized that I was open to something more. With the distance and clarity I have since Lang’s wedding, I can see what I felt for Em was infatuation. There’s no doubt she’s a beautiful woman, but it would never have worked out between us. Aside from the fact that she was in love with Ryan; we were never a match. She didn’t challenge me the way Faith does.
Somehow, Faith managed to see all the way through to who I am and liked me anyway. Or so I thought.
That event a year ago doubled my clientele and introduced me to businesses across the country, businesses like Cave Camo and Outdoor. Cavette called me because one of my newer clients was so pleased with our work they referred him to us. It wasn’t easy landing the contract, and I had to jump through hoops to get the half I did but jumping through those hoops is how I met Faith.
Three months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to pick the woman out of a lineup. Today, she’s permanently etched in my memory, and she’s probably never leaving. As much as I want her to be with me, there’s nothing more I can do. It’s a choice she has to make, one that she’s already made by agreeing to marry Brad.
Some runners ahead of me are slowing, a few turning
around as I reach the same location. I slow my strides until I can see what’s happening, but there are emergency vehicles everywhere. Another jogger passes me and speaks through labored breaths.
“Car went over the bridge, landed on the path.” He keeps looks over his shoulder at the scene and someone else is nearing.
“Anyone hurt?” I stop her and nod in the direction of the commotion.
“Yeah, pretty bad. I saw them pull the woman out of the car she was covered in blood. They had her on a stretcher and were working on her.”
The runners head back in the opposite direction of the accident, but my curiosity is getting to me. I take a few steps closer and my eyes continue to scan the scene playing out in front of me. There are several emergency vehicles on the bridge above, but the two near the accident site prevent me from seeing the severity of the accident.
I can only see a part of the car behind the ambulance, so I move to get a better look. When I do, I see the dark grey car upside down, severely damaged and my spine pricks. There are two paramedics bringing a stretcher around with a person strapped to it and I struggle to keep feeling in my legs.
It can’t be her.
I walk a few steps closer until the police officers that have the area roped off stop me. I strain to get a better view, but all I see is her bloodied brown hair and her black coat that’s been cut. I can’t make out her features because the oxygen mask over her face shields her.
“Please, I think I know her,” I plead with them to let me through. “Faith!”
“We can’t let you through.”
“Are they taking her to St. John’s?”
“Sir, you need to turn around and go back home. There’s nothing you can do here.”
I glance at my watch and realize I’ve only been gone for fifteen minutes, so I turn around and haul ass home to get my car and meet the ambulance at the hospital.
As I make my way up the complex entrance, I try to figure out the quickest route to the hospital. I might need Jett to drive me because my head is all over the place.
I’m running on pure adrenaline when I get to the door and find it unlocked. Thank God he’s still home.
“Jett.” I call in the direction of his room. “Where are you?”
“He’s not here,” a voice says from the couch causing me to whip around.
“Faith?”
Chapter 33
“Jett told me that you weren’t going to be back for an hour.” She smiles, but it doesn’t meet her eyes.
I rush to her side and pull her to her feet and hug her body to mine.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” she says with a frown on her face. “Is everything okay?”
“It is now.” I pull away from her and step back. “I thought something happened to you. How long have you been here?”
I take a seat on one of the barstools behind the couch and watch her run her palms over the top of her dark jeans.
“About thirty minutes, I guess. Your brother said I barely missed you.” She stands up from the couch and walks to the kitchen on the opposite side of the counter. “I would have been here sooner, but there was an accident, and they had the road shut down.”
“Yeah, I had to turn around because of it,” I mutter. Relief floods my body to know that she’s safe, but realize that I have no idea what she’s doing here.
I walk to the refrigerator and grab a water bottle and offer her one. She refuses, so I open mine and chug half the bottle in one gulp. My breathing is heavy as I try to catch my breath.
Her back is to me, but I can read her body language, and she’s nervous. I’m still trying to figure out why she’s here. Did she read the file already?
I use my view of her to my advantage and chastise myself for missing the huge coat laying on the chair that I’m sitting in. She’s sitting on my couch comfortably, but I can tell she’s less at ease the longer I keep my guard up. I have to admit, my curiosity is getting to me.
All I’ve wanted is the chance to talk to Faith, but she’s already hit me in the gut when she sent me away. And after the park, when all we did was argue, I’m not sure what the result of this meeting will be. My tone is void of any emotion as she tries to carry on an uneasy conversation with me.
“You okay?” she asks timidly.
“Why are you here, Faith?” I walk to the screen door across the room and look outside to have something else to focus on.
“You never called me back yesterday,” she says pointedly.
I peer over my shoulder and scoff, “I didn’t realize it was an order.”
“Trey,” she breathes out in annoyance, rolling her eyes. “I came here to talk. I wanted to talk to you after you left the park yesterday, but you never called me back. Then you send me what I decided were drunk texts for about an hour last night.”
“What?” I ask in confusion. Em informed me that I texted her last night, which is why she came to the bar, but why Faith, too?
“Yeah.” She nods at my phone on the counter as she juts her hip against it. “Check it.”
The message icon shows there is a few texts I haven’t read, but I bypass those and go to the past conversation I’ve had with Faith. There are half a dozen texts from me that I apparently sent last night and it makes me come off a little psycho. To her credit, she never responded.
8:24 PM: Good luck with Emerson
8:47 PM: You two deserve each other
8:50 PM: You should change your name to Tekilla
9:04 PM: Or Doubt. Because you do
9:13 PM: Are you kidding me? You’re going to believe a brown-nosing asshole like Emerson over me?
9:19 PM: Screw it. I don’t care.
The look on my face must be telling because she gives me a crooked smile, but I don’t return it.
“Is it true?” she asks breaking eye contact.
“Is what true?”
She’s watching me scroll through the rest of the texts. “You don’t care?”
“If you believe it, then why are you here?”
She rolls her head as if every bit of tension has her wound tight. She straightens and focuses her attention on me. “Because I wanted to talk. To really talk this time.”
“Go home, Faith. Go back to your fiancé and leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that.”
“And why is that?”
“I can’t go back to my fiancé because he’s only my fiancé if I accepted his proposal.”
I narrow my eyes at her, trying to decipher her words, but it’s not making sense. She admitted to me yesterday he asked her to marry him. She said yes.
“So you’re not engaged?”
“No.”
“But you let me think so?”
“I wasn’t trying to lie, but I wanted to sort everything out. Either way, I couldn’t say yes, not if I didn’t love him.”
“But you said yesterday that you do.” Didn’t she?
“No I didn’t,” she utters with a lifeless laugh. “You assumed, and I didn’t correct you.”
“Who’s playing games now, Faith?”
“When I called you yesterday, I wanted to hear what you had to say. I never gave you the chance when it happened, and I felt I owed you that much.”
“Faith, you’re a smart woman, but you’ve ignored several signs.”
“So tell me what I missed because I did some thinking about what you told me, and I believe you when you say you wouldn’t sabotage my career.”
“So what changed?”
“Despite how pissed I was with you, a part of me thought it was suspicious, but I had to keep my head on straight and get as many details as I could. The night you came to see me, clearly I was in no place to hear you out.”
“Yeah, I’m sure there is a number of things you forgot.”
She ignores my comment and continues, “The next morning when you told me that you figured everything out, I wanted to hear it, but I never got the chance when Brad showed up.
”
“So why didn’t you call after he left? Hell, why did you make me leave?”
“I needed to diffuse the situation and after you left, we talked. He was telling me about how you went behind my back and got the job. He said Cal fired Rock Solid and there was no way you ever planned on hiring me.”
“And you obviously believe him because I haven’t heard a thing from you since - until yesterday.”
She looks down and fidgets with her hands. “Honestly, I did. I got wrapped up in the story because the one thing we told each other when Cal split the job is that we each wanted the whole thing.”
“Yeah, Faith. We both may have felt that way, but I never thought you’d screw me over, but it must have been in the back of your head because you were quick to believe Brad.”
“I let you leave yesterday, believing too many lies, and I had to fix it.” She looks at me, and I can see the truth in her eyes.
“What lies did I believe?”
“That I accepted Brad’s proposal, that I really thought you were capable of hurting me like that.” She turns away and swipes at her eye.
“Are you saying all of this because of the file?”
She looks me with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. “What file?”
“The one I left at your apartment this morning.”
“You came to see me?” she asks in an almost inaudible whisper.
“Yeah, I left some things under your door mat.”
“What was it?”
“You need to see it for yourself; there’s a lot about Brad you don’t know.” I realize I have more questions that need to be answered. “If you haven’t seen the file yet, why are you here? Why did you turn Brad down?”
“Because you listened to my stories about Len. And you reminded me of the advice he gave me all those years ago.”
She walks toward me and raises her hand to my jawline, but I grab her wrist gently and pull it away. “And Brad?”
“Done,” she answers as her lips turn into a smile.
Without another moment to waste, I yank her to my chest, one arm rests on the small of her back and my hand on her cheek as I look into her eyes. “Done?”
