by Sarah Peis
Jacob lifted the corner of his mouth in a half smile. “We’ll see.”
Another hour went past agonizingly slow. My phone was almost fully charged, but it hadn’t made a beep since Jameson called. There had been no further contact on his part, but who could blame him.
I heard a crash outside and sat up. Jacob was already at the door, gun drawn. He opened it slowly and cursed. “Fucking should have known.” He turned to me. “Stay here. I mean it. Do not move.”
I had no intention of going out there. It sounded like someone was chopping wood out there. Or body parts. Nope, no way was I going out there.
I paced the room, jumping at every crash and yell. The commotion didn’t last long, and all went silent again. Too silent. I stared at the door, going cross-eyed.
Moments later the door opened, revealing Jacob, followed by another person. “Look for yourself. She’s fine. Now can you calm the fuck down and stop destroying my furniture?” Jacob said, sounding annoyed at the inconvenience. Personally, I would be freaking out if someone came into my restaurant and trashed the place.
My mouth dropped open, and my eyes went wide when I saw he was talking to Jameson. Brain shutdown was all I could think before he crossed the room in three long strides—damn those muscly legs—and stopped in front of me.
“Did he touch you? Are you hurt? If he laid a finger on you, he’s a dead man walking.”
I put my hand to his cheek, which stopped his rant abruptly, and the contact made me feel a million times better. “What are you doing here?”
His hands roamed my body as if he had to assure himself that I was still in one piece. He brushed over the vibrator, and I shrugged in response to his raised eyebrow.
“As heartwarming as this reunion is, I have a business to run. Currently I’m ten grand in the negative thanks to her dad. Now that you saw she’s in one piece I would appreciate it if you didn’t continue to take my restaurant apart. And she’s staying until I can get my hands on Garret.”
“I’ll pay you the money. You know I’m good for it.”
I went ramrod straight and glared at Jameson. He could not pay off Dad’s debt. Absolutely not. “No, you won’t. I’ll stay here until Dad calls me back, which he will. Eventually.”
I made a move to sit down, but Jameson stopped me by putting his arm around me and pulling me into his side. “He won’t show his face because he doesn’t have the money. I know he doesn’t. You know he doesn’t.” He pointed at Jacob. “He knows he doesn’t.”
I tried to extract myself from his embrace, but he held firm. “Once he listens to his messages, he’ll call me back and sort it all out. You’ll see. It will be fine.”
Both men ignored my protests and talked to each other like I wasn’t there. “Transfer the money. If I don’t have it by tomorrow, I’ll come back for her,” Jacob said.
Jameson nodded at him. “Thanks, man, appreciate it.”
Jacob went back to his desk, and Jameson led me out the door after he picked up my phone and bag. One of Jacob’s guys was holding an ice pack to his face, and one of the tables was smashed. The room looked otherwise untouched. We were outside before I could do more than gape.
“What are you doing?” I asked, irritated at being manhandled.
“Getting you the hell out of there. What were you thinking coming here by yourself? Have you lost your mind?”
I stepped out of his tight hold and took my bag and phone from him. “No, I haven’t. And I didn’t need your help. I had it all under control.”
Jameson followed my every movement, not willing to let me escape. “Where is your car?”
“None of your business.”
“I fixed it, so if it broke down again, it is very much my business since that would mean I did a shit job.”
“It didn’t break down.” I righted my bike and stashed my phone in my back pocket. “It got impounded.”
“Say what?”
I was not going to repeat myself, especially not when he looked like he was ready to burst out laughing. “It’s not funny.”
“Why would the cops impound your car?”
“Missed a few ticket payments. Now can I go?” I tried to push my bike around him, but he was still having none of it.
“No, you can’t go. I want to know why you’re avoiding me.”
“You just paid my dad’s debt.”
“And?”
“It was my responsibility, not yours. And how do you propose I’m going to pay you back?”
“You are still working for me. I’ll dock your pay and we’re good.”
He was impossible. “That would take me ages.”
“That’s fine with me.” He put his big arms around me, and I didn’t put up much of a fight when he pulled me to him. I was tired. Tired of keeping my shit together, tired of taking care of Dad.
I was still holding on to my bike with one hand, but the other went around his neck. As soon as I made contact, my world looked a lot brighter.
“How did you not get shot in there anyway? And how did you know where I was?”
“Jacob’s my cousin. His mom would have killed him if he had shot me. And there is only one restaurant near Hester Ave.”
I pulled back, stunned. “He’s your cousin? But he’s a criminal.”
Jameson raised a brow at me. “You do know how your dad got his debt to me, right?”
Illegal car racing, as if I could forget. And if rumors were true, Mason was the mastermind behind the whole operation. I wondered how much Jameson was involved.
Defeated and out of ideas on how to get Dad back, I got on my bike. “I have to find Dad. I’ll call you later. I’m sorry.”
I started pedaling, trying hard to ignore Jameson’s protests, but looked back at him anyway. In doing so I was distracted and ran into something, falling off my bike.
Jameson plucked me off the ground. “You are a walking, talking disaster. How the hell did you make it through life in one piece?” He checked me for injuries, something he seemed to be doing an awful lot lately. “Did you hurt yourself?”
I flexed my arms and wiggled my legs, but other than a few bruises, I would be just fine. However, the person that I had run into didn’t seem so great. They were still on the ground, not sounding too flush. Groaning was never a good sign.
I bent down to help them up and noticed that of all the people that could have stood in my way, I had to hit a police office. “Sir, I’m so, so sorry. Let me help you up.”
I reached out, but he swatted my hand away. “Stay away from me. Don’t you know you’re not allowed to ride your bike on a sidewalk?”
“I didn’t realize you were there.”
I tried helping him up again, but he was having none of it. “Ma’am, step back or I’ll arrest you.”
Talk about an overreaction. “Arrest me? But it was an accident. And I’m trying to help you.”
Another voice joined us, this one even less friendly. “Ma’am, step away from the police officer. Put your hands over your head and get on your knees.”
Instead of doing what I was told, I stupidly asked, “Sorry, what?”
“Get down on your knees with your hands over your head.”
“That’s ridiculous. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to run into anyone.”
“Ma’am, I won’t ask you again.”
Jameson stepped forward, but found the gun formerly pointed at me now directed at him. “Sir, I have to ask you to step away and not interfere in a police operation.”
“Officer, this is a misunderstanding. There is no need for handcuffs. I’m sure a ticket will be enough in this case.” Jameson looked irritated.
I was still not kneeling, but avidly staring at the police officer. I knew him. Had gone to school with him. “Ray, there really is no need for guns.”
“It’s Officer Ray to you.”
I grumbled but got down on my knees to speed things up. Knowing him and his love of superiority, he would make me pay for my insubordination.
“You’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say…. Gun! Gun!” He patted me down but froze when he got to the fucking vibrator. I should have thrown it in the trash. Hindsight and all that.
And this is how I found myself facedown on the asphalt because Officer Dick thought I had a gun in my pocket.
I ended up getting arrested.
“Is this really necessary?” I asked for the third time, wiggling my cuffed hands behind my back. “It’s not like you don’t know where I live. Do you really think I’d make a run for it?”
“It’s procedure.”
Procedure, my ass. This was payback for the time in third grade when I wouldn’t let him play catch with us. “So why did I watch you lead Milton into your car without cuffing him after he started a fight at the Donut Hole?”
“The circumstances were different. Now shut up and get out of the car.” Ray was standing next to the open door, one hand on my arm the other on the door, ready to help me up and inside the police station.
“Fine. But I’m not spending the night in a jail cell. If Milton didn’t have to, then I won’t either.”
“You are just as big of a pain as always,” he grumbled.
I grinned my most obnoxious grin at him, the one with a lot of teeth and not much face. Ray’s eyes went wide, and he stared at me. “What happened to your mouth? It’s blue.”
Said mouth snapped closed, and I shut up. Guess it took more than a few hours to get rid of the blue. He led me to the big, open-plan office and sat me down on a chair. “Someone will be with you shortly.”
“I want to talk to my lawyer.”
“You don’t have a lawyer.”
“How would you know?”
He shot me a look, and I shot one back at him. No need to get personal.
He rolled his eyes and walked away. At least he had removed my cuffs.
Getting arrested by the Humptulips Police Department meant that by tomorrow the whole town would know about it. Thanks to Dad’s frequent arrests, everyone and their dog knew our family. The gossips would go crazy over my arrest since the daughter finally joined her dad in the family tradition.
Twenty-one years without an arrest. I thought I hit a low point when I got a perm that took over a year to grow out. Guess I didn’t know shit back then. I sank into the chair and waited for whoever was stuck with my paperwork. But instead of an officer, Jameson showed up.
“Come on, let’s go.”
He held out his hand, but all I was capable of doing was stare at it. If he was breaking me out, he had to pry me out of this chair kicking and screaming. Prison breaks weren’t my style, and I was staying.
“They know where I live,” I said.
Jameson wrinkled his forehead in confusion. “What does it matter?”
“They’ll find me.”
“Why would they try and find you?”
“Because you’re breaking me out?”
That’s when he started laughing, his voice booming, the sound entirely too pleasant for my dire situation. Didn’t he understand that I was about to be put into a jail cell?
“I’m not breaking you out. You’re free to go. Weren’t you wondering why you’re not cuffed anymore?”
I was wondering about that but just thought that Ray might have found his tiny black heart. Apparently he didn’t have a heart at all, since he didn’t tell me that I was free to go.
“That bastard. He told me to wait here.”
Jameson took my hand and pulled me out of the chair. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
Jameson’s truck was parked in the police department’s parking lot, and like the gentleman he was, he helped me into my seat, brushing my butt a few times in the process.
I pouted all the way back to my apartment. It was childish and unnecessary. I knew that. But I also felt like, if there was ever a good time to pout, it was now. I screwed up not only going to Jacob by myself without telling anyone but by being an ungrateful brat to Jameson. He saved my bacon, and I told him off.
Then he got me out of an arrest. Wait, how did he get me out, exactly?
We pulled up to my apartment, and Jameson parked his massive truck expertly in one of the tiny parking spaces. Before he had a chance to open his door, I stopped him with a hand on his arm. “How did you make them drop the charges? I pissed them off good this time.”
He leaned in closer and pressed a kiss to my lips. Gentle, soft, perfect. I think I sighed but couldn’t be too sure. “I called in a favor.” He got out and rounded the car to open my door. “Let’s get you inside.”
He helped me out of the car, and I secretly enjoyed his big hands on my body. I never considered myself tiny, but I was compared to Jameson. He took my hand as soon as my feet hit the ground and walked me inside. Mrs. Winters’s door opened as we walked past, and she emerged decked out in her boots and thick fur coat. She never left the house without it, not even on a ninety-degree day. Churchill was bouncing along beside her, biting his lead.
“Hello, dear. How was your day? I hope we didn’t make you too late for your appointment,” she said.
“Good evening, Mrs. Winters. I made it just in time.”
“You have to let me know where you got the dog toy from. I have to get one for Winston Churchill. He loved it.”
“I don’t remember where I bought it,” I mumbled, my face turning red.
“That’s okay, my dear.” She turned towards her dog. “Come on, let’s go outside and practice going to the toilet somewhere that isn’t my apartment.”
As soon as the door closed behind them, Jameson burst out laughing. I shook my head at him and grabbed his arm, dragging him along with me. “Let’s get inside. I can’t deal with anything else today.”
“It wasn’t all that bad. There were at least a few memorable moments.” He had moved closer, and we were walking up the stairs with my back pressed to his front. His hands trailed my stomach, and I could feel a growing bulge digging into my back. He pulled me closer, and my steps faltered.
“They couldn’t have been that memorable since I seem to have forgotten all about them.”
We reached my apartment door, Jameson stopped me, turned me around, and pinned me to the door. “Then I guess I’ll just have to remind you.”
He leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine. I opened immediately, and the kiss turned from a reminder into a scorcher. Of all the things Jameson was good at, kissing topped that list. And he was damn good at a lot of things.
I fumbled with the door, and after failing to open it while kissing Jameson, I broke away and unlocked my door. As soon as it gave way, Jameson lifted me up and my legs wound around him.
A throat clearing stopped Jameson’s hands that were travelling up my shirt and made us pull apart. I looked inside my apartment and at my Dad.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped at him, furious. “I was looking everywhere for you. Do you know how much shit you got me in?”
He stood up from where he was sitting on my old couch and approached but stopped when I held up my hand. “You owe Jameson ten thousand dollars.”
Dad looked embarrassed. “I’ll pay him back. I just don’t have the money right now.”
I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice when I responded. “Of course you don’t. Because if you did, I wouldn’t have had to spend the last five hours sitting on Jacob’s couch, hoping nobody put a bullet through my head.”
“I’m sorry, honey, but you know how it is.”
“Yes, I know all too well. And I know something else. I’m done. You can’t keep dragging me into your mess. Until you get your shit together, I’m done.” I stepped out of the hallway and pointed to the front door. “Get out.”
“Willa—”
“Now. I don’t want you in my apartment. Don’t call me, and stop involving me in your shit.”
He heard the finality in my voice and walked out, leaving a muttered, “I’m sorry, honey,” in his wake.
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I watched Dad leave and closed the door as soon as he was in the hallway. Jameson had stepped inside and was watching me but stayed quiet. Never before had I cut Dad out of my life, but I couldn’t do it anymore. The first tear trickled down my cheek, and I wiped it away angrily. Why was I feeling so sad if he deserved everything I said to him?
I was confused and angry at myself for not doing something sooner. My life was a mess. And I had let it get to this point. Suddenly Jameson was there, putting his big arms around me and pulling me into his hard chest.
I buried my head in his neck and let out a deep sigh. I didn’t know how I would be able to let go of him once he was ready to move on.
“Let me take care of you tonight,” he said, resting his cheek on my head.
I sniffled into his chest. “Will it involve pizza?”
He hugged me closer. “Definitely. And if you’re lucky, I’ll throw in some beer.”
He made good on his promise and ordered three large pizzas. Jameson didn’t mess around. He said he would take care of me, and he did. He even bought beer. Now some might think that was selfish of him, but they wouldn’t know how much I loved it. And for some reason, Jameson knew that.
He seemed to know a lot about me. My favorite movie—Lethal Weapon—my favorite dessert—any cupcake I could get my hands on. He even knew my favorite pizza toppings—pretty much anything they can fit on one large pizza.
We were camped out on my couch, watching Mel Gibson get blown up. It was the perfect night. I was full, slightly tipsy, and leaning against Jameson. He pulled me close as soon as we sat down and started playing with my hair, trailing his finger down my arm. I was in a Jameson-induced fog and had no intention of emerging.
After finishing off the pizza, I buried myself into his side and rested my beer on his lap. His hand was now buried underneath my shirt. I didn’t recall the moment he had gotten in there but couldn’t say I objected.
“Will you stay?” I asked before I lost my nerve. I wouldn’t have asked at all if it hadn’t been for the fog I was under.
“Do you want me to stay?”
I moved my head to look at him. “Yes.”
