by Shandi Boyes
Pissed at the superiority in his tone and still harboring anger from our earlier tussle, I get extra snarky. “Or I could go now? Find out for myself?” I skirt past Tyrone, acting like he isn’t urging me to listen to Colby’s advice without words. “I’ve got important matters to attend to.”
“Like ensuring you don’t miss your fiancé’s check-in deadline?”
Can you kill someone with a death-stare? Please say yes because I’m about to murder Colby McGregor with one.
When I exit the office by a door on my right, Colby calls my name in a deep, grumbly tone. I don’t stop. I’m too pissed to listen to reason, especially when it’s coming from an immature insensitive jerk.
“Jamie, I swear to God, if you go out that door, I’ll…”
While shoving my feet into a pair of big muddy gumboots I found by the back door, I stare up at Colby. His voice was threatening, but I’m not the slightest bit worried. He’d never hurt me—physically.
“You’ll…”
When he fails to answer me, I push through the door like a loud clap of thunder didn’t just rumble above my head. Trees with big umbrella-size leaves canopy my trek, but nothing can ease the chill running down my spine. It’s not just cold, it’s below freezing.
My teeth chatter out of control, but they’re barely heard over the squeal I emit when I’m suddenly grabbed from behind. “Are you fucking insane? That’s not rain, it’s sleet. Do you want to catch pneumonia?”
“It’ll be worth it when I prove you’re a using piece of shit.”
Like I did in the ocean, I use my feet to propel myself away from Colby. He falls back with a groan, his hands shooting down to protect the package my body failed to ignore rubbing against me even when I warned I’d withhold its orgasms for the next century if it didn’t commit. It probably would have listened if it had any clue what it was missing out on. I can’t recall the last time I orgasmed, but I’m reasonably sure it wasn’t with Brad.
With Colby on his knees, he devises a new tactic to take me down. It’s as dirty as the sneer he wears when he snags my ankle to tug my legs out from beneath me. I land with a splash, my mouth, nose, and glasses bombarded with muddy water.
After screaming blue murder, I flip onto my back then give as good as I’m getting. I thrash out with all my might, ensuring some part of my body connects with Colby’s. I kick and kick and kick when he crawls toward me in an attempt to pin me to the ground with his big, imposing body.
Once he has my legs and torso subdued, he secures my hands to the side of my head, then lowers his wild eyes to mine. I can barely see them through the slosh on my glasses. “Stop it! You’re acting like a lunatic.”
“Get off me…” I sound like a mental patient, but now my anger is being unleashed, I can’t reel it back in. I’m aware not all my frustrations should be directed at Colby, but since he’s the only one here challenging me, he’s receiving the brunt of it. “Before I sue you for every penny you have.”
Colby’s grip on my wrists tightens. It doesn’t hit me with one-tenth of the pain Brad’s clutch did. He’s not holding me down to hurt me, instead he’s trying to contain me. “As I said earlier, you better be quick. Would hate for you to lose the chance when my insurance runs out.”
I scream my frustration into his face. “I don’t know why I bothered. You’re such an idiot, even if I were to thrust the truth in your face, you still wouldn’t believe it.” I kick and buck like I’m not on the verge of climax from having his panty-wetting face so close to mine. “Let. Me. Go!”
Chapter 18
Colby
“Colby…” Tyrone only says my name, but it’s the words he doesn’t speak I hear the loudest. Breathe it out. “You need to let her go.”
I lower my eyes to Jamie, all red-faced and on the verge of crying. “I will when she takes it down a notch.” I hate seeing her like this, but I’d rather have her kicking and screaming at me than fighting for her life when she catches pneumonia.
“No, Colby. You need to let her go. Now. Don’t make me ask you again.”
My eyes rocket up to Tyrone who’s pissed as fuck. I’d never hurt Jamie, but he’s making it seem as if I’m digging a knife into her ribs.
All my daggers miss their mark. Tyrone isn’t looking at me, he’s glaring at something above me—something that makes my stomach recoil when I follow the direction of his gaze.
“Fuck.”
I scoot back, horrified by the circular bruise on Jamie’s wrist. She’s too worked up to understand my quick retreat. She thinks I’m threatened by Tyrone’s tone, having no clue the tantrum she just threw will barely be a rumble to the storm I’ll rain down on the person responsible for marking her when I find out who. That bruise isn’t newly formed. It didn’t happen during our tussle.
After picking herself up from the mud-soaked ground, Jamie yanks off her glasses before thrusting her cell phone into my face. “Look what you did. Are you happy? You ruined it.” Sludge drips off her phone even more than her glasses. It must have fallen into a puddle when I tripped her. “Now, I can’t show you how much of an idiot you are.” With her voice on the verge of cracking, she shoves me in the chest before storming back toward the cabin.
“Jamie…”
Tyrone blocks my path with his six-foot-three frame and wide shoulders. He gives me a look that warns he’ll hold me down like I did Jamie if I don’t follow through with his nonverbalized threats.
“I didn’t do that to her.” I point in the direction Jamie just stormed, my hand shaking more than my words.
The anger in his face recedes. “I know that, but if it happened the way we’re both panicked about, pinning her to the ground won’t help matters. Hell, it might even make them worse.”
“What if there’s more? What if that isn’t the only one on her body?”
He crouches down in front of me, bringing his dark worldly eyes level with mine. “What if she’s stronger than either of us are giving her credit for? What if that’s the reason she’s no longer wearing her ring? There are a lot of what if’s, Colby, and only one person who can switch them from theories to facts.” He nudges his head to the cabin that’s once again lit since the emergency generator kicked in. “You said you were her friend—”
“I am her friend,” I correct.
Tyrone smiles, exposing that I interrupted as he had hoped. “Then be her friend.”
“It isn’t that simple. If I get close, she’ll get hurt, Ty.” My use of his nickname exposes how badly my emotions are teetering. It wasn’t easy staying away from Jamie the past two weeks, but I did it because it was the right thing to do. It was the only way I could ensure no one would get hurt.
Tyrone looks into my eyes, so I can see how serious he is. “Did you see her face? She’s already hurting.” His words whack me in the gut, making me want to bend in half. “Besides, you’re the only egomaniac who thinks people won’t forget you as easily as you’ll forget them. For all you know, she may not even remember you next week. You’re not that memorable.”
I smirk at the mirth in his tone before shaking my head. Confident I got the message, he messes my hair like it isn’t filled with muddy slosh, then re-enters the cabin. I take a few minutes to center myself before following after him. The silence when I walk into the main living area reveals my exchange with Jamie wasn’t solely witnessed by Tyrone. Pity for them, I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of me—except perhaps Jamie.
As I make my way to the shower, they glance at me sympathetically, clueless to the secret Tyrone and I now share. Jamie’s sleeve hides her bruise so well, I may not have discovered it if my ego didn’t get the better of me. I didn’t just storm after her as I didn’t want her to get sick, I wanted her to take me seriously for a change. I’m a goofball but not when it comes to my business. That’s why I was so surprised she denied my claim for insurance. I did what she asked. I jumped through all her hoops, and I did it without letting my frustration about bureaucratic bullshit tag along in our
friendship. During business hours, she was Ms. Burgess, my insurance assessor. Outside of those hours, she was my friend—is my friend.
After taking a shower and changing my clothes, I head to the office to finalize our itinerary for tomorrow. With the recent rain, it would be smart to switch our whitewater rafting expedition from Monday afternoon to tomorrow morning. I’m also hoping for a bit of solidarity. I want to talk to Jamie, but I need to get my headspace right first. I’m reasonably sure I know who bruised her, but without the means to set motions in play to take him down, I’ve got plenty of time to ensure they’re the right steps to take.
I freeze halfway into my office. Jamie is sitting at my desk, tinkering with a computer that’s almost as old as me. “If you’re searching for games, you’re shit out of luck. Tyrone had them removed last year. Said something about playing snakes and ladders isn’t the same thing as predicting profits and loss.” Her smile isn’t half the one I was aiming for, but it’s better than none. “Jamie, about—”
She cuts me off by slicing her hand through the air. “Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have reacted as I did. It was highly unprofessional. It won’t happen again.” Her tone is the same proficient, ball-stomping one she used the day we met. I fucking hate it.
After a halfhearted smile, she returns her focus to the computer monitor. “Ugh! Come on.” She rattles the box-like contraption, praying it shakes some sense into it.
“Gentle. She’s an old thing. She doesn’t like being rough handled.” When she peers at me over the rim of her hideous, but once again clean glasses, the heaviness on my chest weakens. It’s faint, but I swear a glimmer of the Jamie I stood across from while dancing is igniting in her eyes. “I meant the computer, not you, grandma.” I whisper my last word loud enough she’ll hear me, but soft enough she’ll think I didn’t want her to. If she’s insurance-assessor Jamie, she’ll act unaffected. If she’s the Jamie I’m hoping, she’ll smack me on the up side of the head with one of the many instruments in front of her.
My hope grows when her hand creeps toward a brick-like cordless phone.
They’re dashed when she picks it up and squashes it to her ear. “There’s my issue. No dial tone.”
My brows shoot up. “You need a dial tone to use the computer?”
Jamie huffs while slouching low in my chair. She looks good in my space, like we’ve stepped back in time before internet connections and cell service. That probably has more to do with her wild, crazy hair than her clothes. Our tussle in the muddy field un-straightened her hair that should remain kinked. Her natural hair is beautiful, so I have no clue why she ‘irons’ it every morning.
“You do when it’s dial-up.”
“Dial what?” She laughs like I’m joking. I’m not. What the hell is dial-up?
She balances her elbows on the desk, her eyes more sparkling than they were thirty seconds ago. “Let me guess, you’ve never heard of a rotary phone either?”
“A whatta whatta?” I take a mental note to make up a hundred fake words after she smiles at the pathetic one I just made up. When she nudges her head to a hefty-looking contraption next to the antiquated computer she’s attempting to use, my brows furl. “What the fuck is that?”
“It’s a phone.” Jamie talks to me like I’m mentally challenged. It reduces the tension suffocating the air even more. “Try and use it.”
I almost fall for her trick. “Nice try. It’s one of those electric buzzing machines, isn’t it? Tyrone pulled a swift one on me last year. I’m not falling for it again.” I’m reasonably sure I’m right as it has a silver circular piece in the middle. That’s most likely the part that will zap my pubic hairs off my balls when I touch it.
With her eyes watering, this time from laughter instead of tears, she picks up the clumpy object on top that looks remarkedly similar to a phone receiver. “It won’t zap you… unless you use it in a storm.” After thrusting it my way, she nudges her head to the bottom half. “Try and dial a number.” When I snatch her hand off the desk, she balks. I hate the movement even more than the bruise on her wrist. “What are you doing?”
I act cool, calm, and unaffected even though I’m anything but. “If it zaps me, it’s going to zap you, too. Electricity travels through bodies. Believe me, I tested the theory on electric fences many times in my youth.” Her smile makes up for her flinch. “So this is your last chance, Prim. If you don’t want to be electrocuted, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Without warning, she spins the circular thing in the middle of the ‘phone’ before screaming like someone just stabbed her. After laughing at my whitening face—which is only white because her scream ripped my heart out of my chest—she releases her hand from mine, stands from her chair, then makes her way to the door. “You’re such an idiot. It’s only a phone” Before she exits, she cranks her neck back my way. “About your insurance renewal—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
She peers at me like I have two heads. I’m beginning to wonder the same thing. I thought my world would come tumbling down if I were denied the opportunity of jumping professionally. Although her email stung my ego, it was nothing on the burn I felt when I noticed her injured wrist.
“Your company had stipulations they required me to follow. I didn’t agree with them, so you had every reason to deny my request.”
She steps closer to me, seemingly confused. “I didn’t deny your claim, Colby. I approved it.” The honesty in her eyes could only be more shocking if she told me she loved me. “Yes, we had stipulations, but after meeting with you and hearing your side of the story, it became apparent we weren’t being fair.” She flexes her fingers as if she feels uncomfortable about her next set of words, but hopes the gain will far exceed the unease. “But please don’t think our… friendship…” she says the word like it made her stomach roll, “… had anything to do with my decision. I sought advice from practitioners, specialists in your field, and other agencies before making my decision. It wasn’t done lightly or without due diligence.”
“Not that it matters, but I got an email from you stating our claim had been denied. Here, I’ll show you.”
When I dig my hand into my pocket to retrieve my phone, she returns to my side of the desk. I thought providing proof of my claim would ease the groove etched between her brows. I was wrong—very much so.
“Oh, look, you could read my supposed email with the subject ‘insurance application,’ but all the others remain unread.” She flicks her finger up the screen, showing unread email after unread email from her personal account. If that isn’t bad enough, my inbox reveals I opened plenty of emails from women not named Jamie. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but Brad was right about you.”
When she turns to leave, I grab her wrist, which I drop like it scorched my hand when I realize it’s her bruised one. “Brad doesn’t know me.” I impress myself by only expressing his name with the slightest sneer.
“No, he doesn’t, but he predicted that weeks before I worked it out for myself.” She points to the open email during the ‘that’ part of her comment. “He knew whether your insurance was approved or denied, you’d drop our so-called friendship within hours of my decision.” When her hands fall to her side from air quoting ‘so-called,’ she spreads them across her hips. “Was it even hours, Colby? Or was it as fast as your eagerness to get away from your previous four-button clingers?”
I’m shocked she’s referencing herself as one of my bed companions, but it doesn’t stop me from retaliating. “My insurance application had nothing to do with my absence of late.”
When she tsks and rolls her eyes, my brain screams at me to tell her the real reason, not to let her leave here thinking our friendship meant nothing when it was some of the most carefree weeks I’ve had, but no matter how loud it yells, no matter how often I call myself an idiot, I let her walk away not having a clue what she means to me.
Chapter 19
Jamie
“Good morning,
Jamie, how’d you sleep?” Tyrone adds a big beaming smile to his greeting. It should be illegal to be so chipper at this time of the day.
“Remarkedly good… considering.” My eyes light up when he jingles a jar of hot chocolate in front of me. “Yes, please.” After plopping into a seat in the middle of the country kitchen, I stray my wary eyes around the cabin. “Where’s everyone?”
“Claudia took them for a hike. If her underhanded scope comes up trumps, we should be set for whitewater rafting later this morning.” I mouth a ‘thank you’ when he hands me a cup of warm cocoa. “What do you say, are you up for some water activities that don’t involve wrestling in the mud?”
I glare at him sardonically. It doesn’t even singe his eyebrows. Tyrone laughs it off as if I poked out my tongue instead of glaring at him like I’m attempting to kill him.
“Will Colby be there?”
“I’d say so since he scouts the expeditions.” He moves around the kitchen as if he were born to be a cook instead of feeding the adrenaline junkies of the state. “Is what Colby said true? Did you approve our request for insurance?”
I stop sipping on my delicious drink to peer up at him. “Yes, but it wasn’t because of my friendship with Colby—”
“You can stop right there. If I had the slightest inkling you could have been wooed into siding with us, I wouldn’t have left the task up to Colby. His idea of romance is letting you shower first after he has…”
When he glances at me with wide, apologetic eyes, I laugh. “I get it.” I take a large gulp of my hot chocolate being setting it down. “So, the whole ‘are you okay, Ms. Burgess’ after my base jump was how you treat all your clients?”
Tyrone’s embarrassed cheeks are super cute. “Not at all. But can you blame me? You had the adrenaline junkie gleam after only one jump.” He tugs on the collar of his shirt. “It had me thinking all sorts of naughty thoughts… thoughts Colby wanted to pummel me for after he drove you home.”
