by Emma Renshaw
That’s what I need to focus on.
Not the way he held me.
Not the way he kissed me.
Not the way he said this was more.
No, the cold, aloof James is back. The James I didn’t like. The James that annoyed me. Our physical therapy sessions are done, so I don’t have to see him. If I want to see the girls, I can call them, have a strict girls’ night, no boys allowed.
It’s not only James that I miss. I miss Sirius, too. Does James realize when he cut me out, he was cutting me off from him, too? The dog that we found together? The one he’s keeping only at my insistence?
If I ignore the gaping hole in my chest, it will go away. Right?
I message Savannah to let her know that I won’t make it tonight. She doesn’t need to know why, only that I won’t be there.
While James has successfully avoided me through the week, I’ve been avoiding Simon until today.
“Tate.”
My head pops up from the patient chart I’m working on. I’m in the break room at one of the lunch tables. Simon is at the table opposite me, leaning down on it.
“Simon,” I mutter, my eyes falling back to the chart as I continue making notes and trying to ignore his presence. We haven’t spoken in a long time. I don’t know why he’s trying to talk to me now.
“What time are you getting off?” His tone is friendly and open as if we gab with each other all the time.
“After my last appointment,” I retort, not bothering to look his way.
“What time?” he asks again, an irritated tone replacing the friendly one he used only moments earlier.
“I’m working after hours, so no telling.” I shrug.
“I’ll see you later,” he says. “I want to apologize and be friends.”
My hands start trembling from rage. The pen scrapes across the chart, marking through some of my notes. “Simon,” I say as firmly as I can manage. “We’ll never be friends. You reported me because I turned you down for a date. If you need to speak to me about a patient, fine. Anything else, don’t bother. I don’t want to talk to you.”
Simon spins on his heel and stomps off. How could he think anything else would happen besides that? Did he think I’d leave James and jump into his arms after he reported me?
I take my phone out of my pocket to call James. It rings twice before going to voicemail. When the tone sounds prompting me to leave a message, I open my mouth to ask him to call me. To tell him Simon approached me. Anything. I want to hear his voice and feel his warm hand cupping my cheek. I want to watch his smile light up his entire face, transforming him into something entirely too beautiful.
Instead, I take the hint. I release a breath, snap my mouth shut, and hang up.
The rest of my day is spent in a state of annoyance. I feel like a stretching band that has been pulled too tight and is starting to fray. By the time I leave work, my patience is worn so thin, I worry I’ll snap at the next person that even tries to speak to me.
Maybe I should go to The Cellar tonight and enjoy the company of friends. I could show James I’m not hurting. It’d be a total lie, but I could pretend. If I could, I’d strut into The Cellar and take out all my frustration on him, but I can’t do that.
Most likely I’d walk in, his gorgeous gray eyes would lock on mine, and I’d fall apart right there. In the middle of a bar. In front of everyone.
So, no. Not going.
Instead I head to one of my favorite restaurants. It’s cozy in the bar area with large, cushy, leather chairs in front of fireplaces, which is perfect for the weather outside. Each day is getting cooler and cooler. I’ve started to break out my scarves and boots.
“Just one?” the hostess asks when I step up.
Just one. That’s me. One. Singular. Alone. Lonely.
“Yes. In the bar, please, if there’s room.”
“Right this way.”
I follow the hostess through the large entry to the bar area. She walks me toward two inviting chairs facing a fireplace. It’s perfect. Secluded and alone, just what I need for tonight. I don’t need to share this crazy mood with anyone.
I watch the flames dance as I think about James. I don’t know what happened or what went wrong. From the beginning, we agreed this wouldn’t last, but I thought that had changed. It’s definitely changed. At least for me, it has. Wrapped up in James’s strong hold is my favorite place in the world to be.
The waiter interrupts my thoughts when he approaches. I quickly order an entrée and a glass of wine. When he returns with my wine, I take a large sip, relishing the warmth as it flows through me.
“I ordered a bottle of wine. I’d love to split it with a beautiful woman,” I hear from next to me.
I flick my eyes up to the man intruding on my alone time. “No, thanks.” My gaze moves back to the fire in front of me.
The man sits in the chair beside me, placing the bottle on the table. The annoyance from my day rises to irritation. “That wasn’t an invitation.”
“Someone as beautiful as you needs company. I’m Calvin.” He smiles showing off perfect white teeth.
“I don’t need company. I’m trying to enjoy a nice evening alone.” I readjust in my chair, cutting him off with my back turned slightly toward him.
Calvin goes for another attempt, not understanding that he’s not being charming, only frustrating. A voice from behind interrupts him— “Get lost.”
Relief courses through my system. I turn around to see my brother, and a grin spreads across my face.
Calvin raises his hands in surrender and slinks away. Hammond watches him go with his jaw locked before lowering himself into the seat next to mine.
“Hey, sis,” he greets with a smile.
“Hey,” I say, trying to force some cheer into my voice, but it falls flat.
“What’s going on?” His smile slides away, morphing into a frown.
I start to say ‘nothing,’ but stop when tears flood my eyes, and I find myself confessing all to my brother. Between my rants, he supplies me with alcohol, listening to everything I say intently without giving much feedback.
A few hours later, all the air leaves my lungs when I’m lifted from the bed.
Chapter 37
James
My heart stops beating when Hammond’s name shows on the screen of my phone. It’s late. Tatum didn’t show at The Cellar tonight. Images of Savannah stabbed and bloody flash in my mind. Harper crying as everything was taken from her. I can’t watch someone else I care about get hurt. Fuck.
“What happened to Tatum?” I say in lieu of a greeting.
“That guy she works with broke into her house,” Hammond says.
“On my way. She’s coming with me,” I growl, hanging up and running to my SUV to get my girl.
Tatum’s eyes fly open when I lift her from the bed. Fear and surprise shine through until she realizes it’s just me.
“James,” she says in a surprised voice. She blinks rapidly staring at my face as if I’m about to disappear.
“Sunshine,” I greet, bringing her tighter to my chest.
She sputters, looking around, searching for something to say.
“We’ll talk when we get home, Tatum,” I whisper, kissing her cheek. Her eyes widen again when my lips press to her skin. Fuck. I hate what I’ve done to her this week. I missed her.
“I can walk,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and wiggling to get out of my hold.
My grip tightens even further. “Nope. I just found out some lunatic broke into your house. I’m keeping you right here.”
“What?” The word comes out on a shocked gasp.
“Hammond called me,” I say as I stop walking and stare at her.
“Someone broke into my house?” she asks, baffled. Her hand comes up to clutch her throat and her eyes widen. “How do you know? What happened?”
“About that,” Hammond says, grinning broadly and leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway. “I lied.�
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“You lied,” Tatum repeats, staring at her brother from my arms. She tries to drop again, but my fingers dig into her skin, keeping her body pressed into my chest where I can feel every inch of her and smell her scent.
“Yep,” Hammond responds. “Y’all need to talk. I like y’all together. Figured if he thought you were in danger, he’d get here as fast as possible. And if he didn’t, then he definitely wouldn’t be worth more tears. It’s also hunting season, Pop Pop and I would’ve dragged him into the woods.”
My eyes fly to Tatum at the mention of her tears. My stomach turns, knowing I did that to her, made her feel that way.
“Simon didn’t break into your house?” A humorless chuckle leaves my mouth as I ask my question.
“Uh, no,” Tatum says, glaring at her brother.
“Right,” I respond, hustling out the door before Tatum can start arguing about it.
“Thanks a lot,” she hisses sarcastically when we pass her brother. She’s no longer struggling in my arms, but she’s avoiding my eyes.
“What are brothers for, besides getting you rip-roaring drunk and reuniting you with your boyfriend? You’ll thank me later. A good scotch will do the trick.”
“I’ll be paying you back for this,” she says over my shoulder as I walk through the door. “It won’t be in scotch, though.”
Hammond laughs, closing the door right as I walk through it.
I dump Tatum in the front seat of the car, closing her door, and going to the driver’s side. We’re quiet on the short drive to my house. Tatum is fiddling with the ring on her finger and playing with the vents, unable to sit still. When we pull up to my house, she turns to me. “I’ll walk myself inside.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Walk straight to bed.”
“I’m not getting in bed with you,” she says, rearing her head back. She’s pissed I even suggested it.
“Why not?”
“One word. That’s all I’ve heard from you in a week. And you show up like some white knight? No, absolutely not. Does Uber come this far?”
“Let’s go inside,” I say, hopping out of the SUV and walking her to the door. Tatum glares at me as she passes by me and takes a seat on the couch, cocking her eyebrow in a challenge.
The couch works just fine. I can hold her on the couch. That’s why I wanted her in my bed, I want to hold her to know that she’s okay. When Hammond called, something in me snapped. I can’t avoid what’s happening between us. With Tatum in my life there may be more added danger or unknowns, but I’ll do anything to keep her safe.
I sit next to her inching closer to her until our bodies are flush. My arm glides along the soft leather until it’s fully behind Tatum.
“Tell me what happened,” she demands, crossing her arms over her chest and trying to move away from me. She’s pinned between me and the armrest, so there’s nowhere for her to go.
I don’t answer, and Tatum’s eyes search mine before filling with tears. I wrap my arms around her, holding her to my chest. “I got you.”
She cries harder, clutching my shirt, and I repeat myself. “I’m sorry, sunshine.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” she asks with a bite in her tone, releasing my shirt from her hands, and lifting her head from my chest.
I brush her hair from her face, wanting to kick my own ass for being so wrapped up in my past that I froze her out. “I’m sorry for being a dick to you.”
She scoffs. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Tatum,” I say, urging her to look at me. “Seeing Chicago on the news brought up some stuff I didn’t want to deal with. I acted like an ass. I’m so sorry. I missed you this week.”
“I missed you, too,” Tatum admits reluctantly. She lays her head on my shoulder, wrapping her arms around me. “I’m still mad at you, but I’m tired and I missed being right here. It’s the only reason I’m resting on your chest. I didn’t understand what happened. I thought it was your way of breaking up with me.”
“Fuck,” I groan, swiping my hand down my face. I fucked up so bad. “I’ve never had this. I’m used to being alone. I’m sorry I made you question things. I should’ve told you I had my mind on other stuff and needed a few days to sort my shit. I’ll make it up to you, sunshine.”
“What were you thinking about?” Her quiet question makes my throat close.
“Another night.” My arms band around her tighter, worried she’ll get up since I’m not telling her right now. I fear I’ll have to eventually. I don’t know what that will mean for her safety.
“Do you promise?” One of her arms drops from my waist as she lays a hand on my thigh, drawing patterns.
“Yes,” I reply, hoping I’m not lying to her.
“If you want this to end, you need to tell me. The waiting for your call or text and the blatant rejection is what hurt the most. Maybe I shouldn’t, because as you know, I let Patrick walk all over me, but I want to forgive you. Please don’t make me regret it.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Fuck, I don’t want this to end. What the hell did I do to deserve you? You won’t regret it, sunshine. I’ll never make you regret giving me another chance. I hate that I hurt you.”
She nods, nuzzling deeper into my shoulder.
I slide my arm under her knees, lifting her off the couch to bring her to bed. I hold her close to me, nuzzling her neck and kissing the soft skin there. “I’ve never felt the way I did when Hammond called to tell me Simon broke into your house. I needed to see you with my own eyes, touch you myself, to make sure you’re okay.”
She turns so she’s facing me, her delicate fingers brushing over my cheek. I tilt my head into her palm, savoring her touch.
“It didn’t happen. I’m here now,” she whispers, reassuring me. I swallow, hating myself just a bit more. I’m the one who fucked up and now I have her in my arms and she’s comforting me. Her heart is huge and welcoming, forgiving me without a big fight. I’ll cherish this until I stop breathing, no matter where I end up.
“I know. I won’t let it happen. You’re safe with me, Tatum. I got you.”
Chapter 38
Tatum
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” James asks.
"Yeah," I say, smiling. "You've been a maniac since finishing PT. I definitely don't want to run or work out with you."
He winks. "Unless it's in bed?"
"Exactly," I say, shivering as I remember the night before. James’s eyes turn molten, holding me to my spot as I stand in his room wearing only his shirt.
He groans.
"Go. You really need to. You got soft with all that time off,” I say, smirking as I rub my hand down his abs. “You went from what? An eight-pack to a six-pack?”
He leans into me, my back arching to get closer. The deep rumble of his laugh sends vibrations through my body, making me want him more. His hand slides into my hair as he kisses me, his tongue tangling with mine, sending goosebumps all over my body.
“I’m going to spend time with Sirius,” I say. “I missed him.”
“Did you miss me?” James asks, rubbing his nose against mine.
“Nope. You pissed me off. I was mad at you.”
“You missed me,” he whispers, kissing me hard one last time before leaving.
I sit on the bed, watching him through the window as he jogs up the small hill behind his house. Damn fine view.
After I grab my tablet from my bag, I head into the kitchen with Sirius trotting next to me. He sits next to his food bowl, looking at me expectantly with his little tail wagging so hard, his entire backside is shaking. I chuckle while measuring his food and giving him fresh water. I sit at the table with my mug of coffee, putting my feet on the chair next to me and opening up the romantic thriller I’m reading.
I’m so engrossed in the novel that I don’t pay attention to anything until I hear a slight tear of fabric. I look around the room, seeing nothing, but when my eyes fall to the ground, I start cracking up.
&n
bsp; Sirius has one of James’s shoes in his mouth. It’s bigger than he is, but he’s not letting that stop him as he shakes it from side to side and gnaws on the edge. “No,” I say through giggles. I don’t think it’s as effective when I’m laughing, though. “Put it down, Sirius.”
I get up from the chair and walk toward him, making him wag his tail even harder. He thinks I’m playing with him. When I get close, he tries to take off down the hall, but he stumbles over the big shoe.
I nab it from him before he can get his little teeth on it again, bringing it to the closet. I freeze when I get there. I was much more invested in my book than I thought. Sirius has been ripping and chewing on anything he could. It’s a mess in here.
I look over my shoulder, glaring at him, but the sight of his tongue hanging out and the tiny smile on his face saves him from my anger. No one can be mad at a face that stinking cute and sweet. Hopefully James feels the same way.
Falling to my knees, I sort through his damage. Most of James’s shoes are okay, except for some tiny teeth punctures, but there are papers that are torn to bits, and the strap of one of his duffle bags is completely chewed through.
When I try to lift it, I groan from the effort. What the hell does he have in this thing? I try again, putting a little more effort into it by bending my knees and pulling. I fall back into the wall, becoming entangled in his shirts. There’s a soft click against my back right before I fall.
Only my legs are still in James’s closet. From the waist up, I’m in a completely different room. What the hell? Slowly standing, I’m unable to take my eyes away from everything in the small room. There are four linked-metal storage lockers on one wall showcasing guns of all sizes and varieties. On the back wall are so many computer screens with feeds showing James’s property and some blank screens. The other wall has a pile of duffle bags. I know I shouldn’t look…
Terrified, I slowly walk toward the bags, barely unzipping one and peeking inside. Cash. The bags are filled to the brim with stacks of cash wrapped in paper holders.
