By a Thread

by R. L. Griffin

  “What?” He turned to look at her.

  “The girl you met last fall, did it work out?” Looking down, she examined her hands.

  “Not at all,” he answered honestly.

  “What happened?” Stella needed to know, but still couldn’t look at him.

  “She wasn’t you.” He didn’t look at her, but resigned himself to the fact that this might be the last time they spoke.

  “What?” she whispered, a small glimmer of heat shooting through her.

  “It’s just that I love you and can’t seem to get past it.” He smiled down at her, “You’re really hard to love, but even harder to get over.” He pulled at a stray hair that was stuck to her face.

  “You love me?” She closed her eyes, unsure she could deal with anything else today. Opening her eyes she looked into those green flecks. “George, we can have this conversation or we can wait. It’s up to you, but I want you to know that I’m in shock. I threw up, like thirty times when I saw Jamie this morning. I just found out I’m headed out of town for a couple of months and my world is kind of imploding right now.”

  “El, your life always seems to be in some sort of state of implosion. We can wait, but know that I love you. I’m not going anywhere. I can listen to you, hold you, love you. Whatever you need.” He took a deep breath, “But, I need something from you. You have to give a little bit. I need you to tell me how you feel about me before you go.” George was cradling her now, Stella’s face pressed against his bare chest. He pushed her far enough from him so that she looked at him, “I need this one thing from you.”

  She grabbed his face and slammed her lips against his and launched an all-out assault on him. He pushed her back gently, “Not that I don’t really appreciate that and hope to receive more. I need to hear you say how you feel about me, please.”

  “Why,” she hedged. All the months she had tried to convince herself he was nothing other than a good lay were not enough to convince her of that, but she wasn’t ready to profess her love. Was she, or was this it? If she didn’t, would she lose him?

  “I’m starting to put you back together,” he kissed her jaw line up to her ear. She groaned.

  “It’s impossible.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.” George worried that this fiancé coming back into her life would be the end of them, if there was a them. “By the way, I’ve had the best view of your runs the last few months. You are very ritualistic. I could tell time by your visit to the dog park with Cooper on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.”

  “Oh you liked the view, huh?” Her phone went off again, like it had been every five minutes since she went on her run.

  They were all from Patrick.

  Where are you?

  We need to talk?

  Have you talked to Jamie?

  El... come on

  You are not at home, where are you?

  Are you okay?

  FUCK reply to my texts please.

  She scrolled through her texts and things clicked into place. Who had told her about Jamie? Who had driven her to the closed casket funeral? Who had been in her life everyday making sure she was okay since he “died?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” All the things that had happened in the last few hours hit her like a ton of bricks and that crack that she worried about all those years started. Stella took in a deep breath, dropping her phone. The one person that she’d trusted more than anyone had been lying to her for four years. This threatened to end the sanity she was struggling to maintain.

  “What is it?” He leaned in to see the plethora of texts from Patrick.

  “Patrick knew all along that Jamie was alive. That MOTHERFUCKER.” Rage filled her mind, made her see red, actually see red. She flew up and grabbed Cooper’s leash. “I gotta run.”

  George grabbed her arm, “I’ll run with you.”

  “No.” She pushed past him and he pushed her against the wall.

  “Yes.” He looked into her heartbroken eyes, “I’m going with you.”

  They ran the three miles back to her house in silence, Cooper leading the way. When they walked through the door Patrick was pacing through the kitchen, livid. He ran to her throwing his arms around her. “Are you okay?”

  She shoved him back, “Am I okay?” she asked incredulously. “Really, Patrick? That’s what you’re going with?” George took Cooper and released him from his leash. Cooper stood in between Stella and Patrick, looking confused. “You’ve been lying to me for years and have the fucking gall to ask me if I’m okay? I can’t even start to tell you how un-okay I am.”

  “El, I’m sorry. I...” Patrick looked down at his hands. “I umm...”

  “You at a loss for words, huh?” She pushed past him. “Listen, I’m leaving for awhile, okay. Don’t worry about me, I don’t need your ass. I’m going to pack my shit and Cooper and I’ll be outta here. I’ll get the rest of my shit later.”

  “Don’t do that, El.” Patrick reached for her again, “Don’t leave like this.”

  Sidestepping his arm she yelled, “Guess what Patrick? Fuck you. You don’t get to tell me what to do.” She stomped down the stairs and a stunned Cooper looked to Patrick and then George and followed her down the stairs. “George,” she called from the stairs. “Grab Cooper’s food and put in my car, please.”

  George moved toward the cabinet where they kept the dog food. Patrick looked like he was about to cry. “Give her some time man.”

  “It had to be you she ran to, right,” Patrick seethed. “She’s my best friend and she ran to you.”

  “I love her, man. Get used to it. Also, a best friend wouldn’t have done what you did.” Patrick looked at his phone as it buzzed and then threw it against the wall, smashing it to pieces.

  “This is fucking ridiculous. All of this because of that asshole? He has ruined her.”

  Stella stomped up the stairs carrying her suitcase, laptop, and workout bag. She brushed past Patrick, who was just standing there looking defeated. George and Cooper followed her out the door and down to her car. “El, please… let me explain.” Patrick called to her back.

  “Get a new roommate,” she yelled.

  Patrick ran and grabbed her arm. “El, please.” His eyes pleading with her.

  “I HATE YOU.” She jerked her arm away from him.

  Stella didn’t even hesitate as she walked out the door without looking back. She did stop for a second when she realized Patrick’s car was blocking her in the driveway. “FUCK,” she took a breath and turned to George. “Do you mind asking Patrick to move his car so that we can leave?” She opened the trunk and threw everything in. Digging in her purse she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Millie. “Hey, listen today has been the biggest pile of shit that has happened to me in a while. Can I stay with you tonight?” She was talking as she opened her passenger side door and folded the seat up so Cooper could get in the back seat.

  George came up behind Stella and took the phone gently from between her ear and shoulder. She jumped and then glared at him when he started talking to Millie. “Hey Millie. Long time... it’s George. Listen, El is going to stay with me tonight and then she has to go out of town for work. Cooper is staying with me while she’s gone.” Stella was just staring at him. “I think it would be best to have Patrick fill you in right now.” Stella moved to the driver side of the car and started it, waiting on George to get in. Kid Cudi filled the car before she reached to turn the music down. George leaned over to her, phone still on his ear, and gently kissed her cheek.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  When they pulled into George’s townhouse, he showed her how to park in his two-car garage under the unit. A Toyota 4Runner was already parked in the garage. She didn’t even know he owned a SUV. It reminded her that he’d lied to her. He got out of the car, let Cooper out of the backseat, and moved to her side of the car. Stella was still sitting in the car in somewhat of a fog. It was almost like she had to concentrate to remember to breathe. He opened the door
and pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re going to be fine,” he whispered in her ear. Then he picked her up and carried her up two flights of stairs into his bedroom. He laid her gently on the bed. He knelt down and untied both of her shoes, pulled off her sweaty socks, and then leaned over her body.

  “I’m going to go start a bath for you. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared and she could hear the water starting. She turned her head to look at the wall of his bedroom and was surprised, it was in order. His bed was huge with a leather headboard that went all the way to the ceiling. A walk-in closet was on the same wall as the entry to the bathroom. George appeared above her again, he leaned down and kissed her tenderly.

  “George...” She was fighting so many emotions. “This...” her voice cracked and a tear fell down her face. George’s face pinched together and he kissed her tear away.

  “You don’t have to talk about anything right now. Let me take care of you.” He pulled her pants and underwear down in one swift move, examining what was underneath. Then he peeled off her workout top and gazed hungrily at her naked on his bed. George carried her into the bathroom and put her in the bath. His bathroom was just as impressive as the rest of his house, but a little more messy. There were towels and clothes everywhere. “Please relax for a little while. I’m going to get you a glass of wine, red or white?”

  “Your choice,” she said softly. Stella plunged under the water and stayed under as long as she could. Under the water her mind started racing, she was still so pissed. All the things that didn’t make sense about George ran through her head, but then were surpassed by the realization that she just didn’t fucking care anymore. About anything, the numbness that she had after Jamie’s “death” came back in full force. That familiar hardness spreading through her chest and brain, again.

  After a while, Stella raised herself out of the water and was all wrinkles after staying in the bath for so long. She walked into his closet and pulled a long-sleeve Henley shirt down over her naked body. It smelled like him. She padded down the stairs. Going downstairs in only his shirt would short-circuit any conversation he wanted to have with her, she hoped anyway.

  Stella stepped off the last step onto the main floor, turned to the kitchen and saw him. Shirtless, his muscles flexing as he prepared dinner. She pushed her wet bangs off her forehead. Licking her lips at the sight, she said, “A girl could get used to this.”

  George turned and faced her with his smile and abs, she wanted to jump him immediately. “Wow, can you wear my shirt, always?”

  “You’d rather me wear a shirt than be naked?” Stella asked, feigning innocence.

  “Well maybe ... No, I’d rather you’d be naked.” George attempted to pull his shirt off her.

  “Not yet,” she said firmly. “I’m famished,” Stella sat on the stool provocatively.

  George stared at her and then went back to cutting vegetables and cooking dinner for them both. “El, I don’t think I can concentrate on cooking with you sitting like that.”

  “Oh, do you want me to come over there and help?” She smiled, this was the best distraction from thinking about her day, but she was still pissed at him. There was still so much they needed to talk about. She stood in front of him, her thighs pressing against the cabinet. Stella pulled his arms around her, her skin tingling with his touch. She felt him lean into her hair and inhale.

  “So let’s talk,” she said. “What’s your name?”

  He grimaced. “My name is Willston George Finnegan.”

  Stella turned around to look at him, her eyebrows arched in disbelief. “I feel like an idiot, George. I felt like I knew you, but I didn’t even know your real name.”

  “I’m sorry.” George turned her around to face him, putting his left leg in between her legs pressing her against the counter. “Okay, so I told you my name was George. Initially because that is what I do with all women I want to get in my bed, but shit, a year later and I liked how it sounded on your lips.”

  “Give me a fucking break, George.” Stella took a long pull from her wine.

  “I fell in love with you before we even had sex. You agreeing to fuck me was so surreal...” George put both of his hands on her, one on her face, the other on her neck. “I played along with your arrangement because I thought it was better than nothing, but you would let me in and then push me away. I couldn’t continue to play it cool with you. I wanted more. I wanted you to meet my family...” George trailed off, his lips barely touching hers as he spoke.

  “George...” She breathed out and anticipated his kiss that never came. “Us being apart has been really hard for me. I need you to touch me.”

  “Where do you want me to touch you?”

  Stella pushed herself onto the counter and spread her legs, “Where do you want to touch me?”

  George couldn’t hide the shudder that went through his entire body. “I love you.” He attacked her, not able to control himself.

  Stella’s walls were still up until he started kissing her, but her body reacted to him immediately. She missed him and she finally let herself go, feeling everything

  “I’m sorry, Stella. I should’ve told you my real name and that I owned the bar, but I didn’t think it mattered.” He cradled her face in his hands.

  “What else am I missing?” she asked, looking intently into his eyes.

  Stella and George were intertwined on his king-size bed. She sat facing him, her legs around his waist, their faces inches from each other. His arms were loosely around her and she was tracing an outline of something on George’s chest. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

  “Somehow I don’t believe you.” George rubbed his thumb over her lower lip.

  Stella sighed. “Should I tell you I’m sorry again?”

  “For what? We were upfront with each other. I knew you believed you needed certain things, but I was hoping I would be enough. I wanted to be enough for you.” George brushed her bangs to the side.

  “I don’t know what to say George. I fell in love with you, but I couldn’t even admit that to myself until after you said it was over.”

  “You fell in love with me?” George’s eyebrows went up in surprise.

  “Yes,” she whispered. Admitting that felt like jumping off a cliff with no parachute, no cushion, and no idea what was next. “This is against everything I’ve … I really don’t know if I can do this or if this can work.”

  “Oh, it will work.” George said, smoothing her hair back. “You don’t know it yet, but this,” he pointed to himself and Stella, “is going to work.”

  “George, you are really a masochist.”

  “I guess when it comes to you I am. You’re the best kind of pain.” George kissed her gently. “Let’s go over the rules, shall we.”

  “Whatever,” she said.

  “We love each other.”

  “That’s not a rule.” Stella said rolling to her back and staring at the ceiling.

  “Oh, but it is.” George leaned over her. “You’re now my girlfriend.”

  “George, come on.” Stella pressed her hands against his chest.

  “No. These are my rules. You are my girlfriend. You must text and call me on a regular basis. The fact you are going out of town tomorrow really puts a damper on my plans for you. You will stay with me, all night, as often as I will allow it and let me warn you that will be an everyday allowance. Also, I need you to answer all questions I ask, whether it is about Jamie or your job. I want to know everything. I need to know everything. I love you with every ounce of my being and I need things from you. Can you handle that?”

  “I’ll try,” Stella whispered.

  They stayed up all night talking, apologizing and making plans. Stella really couldn’t believe something good was finally happening to her. Her life was taking another turn and this one she liked.

  When she woke up he was gazing intently at her. Stella smiled. “I really like waking up in your bed with you.” She gave him a chaste kiss
. “Who knew?”

  “I knew,” George replied.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Stella pushed her way down the aisle of the plane with her ear buds in her ears. She had selected a very mellow playlist to keep her as calm as possible during this flight. Changing her seat on the flight resulted in her sitting in the last row of the plane, and cost her over one hundred dollars. She was going to be professional, but had decided she was not going to talk to the ATF agent, formerly known as Jamie.

  As she turned to slide into her seat, she shoved her bag under the seat in front of her and leaned back against her seat. This would be a very trying couple of weeks. When she saw the ATF agent enter the plane and begin looking up and down the aisles for his seat, she studied him. His blond hair was long and darker than she had ever seen it, a dirty blond-brown mix. At its current length it was wavy, he had always kept his hair short and out of his eyes in college. His once long, lean body looked very thin, but his walk was the same, all ego. His beard was a light brown and covered most of his chiseled features, including his mouth. Closing her eyes she saw Jamie as he was that last night they had spent together.

  He sat without looking for her, probably figured she was running late. As they taxied out of the gate, she saw him turn and glance around the plane, which was half-empty. Not too many people headed to Montana, she thought. His eyes landed on hers and she looked away. Pulling out her iPad she logged into the airline’s Internet and logged into her email.

  She reviewed the email from Stan, which again reassured her that her position was just to gather intel and make sure the DC office knew what was going on in the Montana field office. She was basically being sent to babysit. “A cakewalk” he had told her. I HATE CAKE, she thought. Once they were in the air she felt a shadow to her right and took her right ear bud out of her ear, refusing to look up from her email.

  “Stella?” Jamie began.