Bent not Broken (113 page)

Lindsay’s eyes are darting back and forth between us like she’s watching a tennis match. There is tension in the air, but not aggressive tension. I can hold my own with her, and she is clearly holding her own with me. Neither of us will back down. I’m really going to like this girl.

“Sometimes you just need a change,” she says quietly, dropping her eyes from mine.

“Explain.”

“I don’t have to.”

She’s not telling me the whole story, but I’ll get it out of her eventually. I always do. That’s why I’m a cop. I can dig and find shit out without people even knowing they’ve really told me. Thinking about how stubborn Jessica is, I inhale sharply,

“No, you don’t have to, but I’d like to know more about you.” Those words stop her suddenly. Her eyes widen, and I can hear her breath hitch.

“Why?”

“Why not?” I smile cunningly at her. I can tell what I’ve said has an effect on her. Good. I will break her down. It’s what I do best.

Lindsay’s had enough of our bantering back and forth. Grabbing her purse, she jumps up from the table. “Excuse me while you two play your little game of cat and mouse, but I need to pee.”

Jessica laughs at Lindsay’s reference, sliding out of the booth to let Lindsay out. Sliding back in, she grabs her Diet Coke and puts the straw to her mouth, wrapping her pink lips around the white straw. My eyes won’t leave her full lips. I envision what they taste like and feel like pressed against mine as I suck on her bottom lip. Releasing the straw, I catch the slightest glimpse of her tongue as it passes over her bottom lip, and I’m instantly hard. I want that tongue in my mouth and all over my body. I want to feel her lips pressed up against mine. I want to taste her; all of her.

Leaning forward across the table, closing the space between us, I whisper, “Tell me more about you, Jessica.”

As she sets her drink down on the table, I see her hand shaking slightly. I love knowing that I get to her. Taking a deep breath, she opens her mouth to say something, but then pauses, pressing her lips together. I can tell she’s thinking about what to say, struggling to find the words.

“Tell me,” I whisper again, leaning in a little closer just as she leans back slightly.

Offering me a half-hearted smile, she inhales. Raising her shoulders slightly, she begins, “I’m nineteen. I guess we’ve established that already, huh?” She giggles nervously. “I’m from Santa Ruiz, California. It’s in Orange County. I spent most of my life in California. I moved there from Iowa when I was four, after my mom died.” She stops here, and I can tell she’s momentarily lost in thought. I wonder to myself how her mom died and if she remembers her. I want to ask, but it’s too soon to ask those personal questions. Her eyes focus intently on Lindsay’s half-full glass of white wine on the table. Shaking her head lightly, Jessica continues.

“I took dual-enrollment classes for most of my junior and senior years of high school. That’s where you take AP classes and get college credit at the same time.”

I nod in understanding while raising my glass of beer to take a drink. She’s fucking sexy as hell and smart—and dangerous. This could be the total package. I try to contain my smile, but she notices and narrows her eyes at me. I raise my eyebrows, a gesture urging her to continue on with her story. She either doesn’t get it or is pissed.

“Continue,” I say.

“Well, I’m technically a first-year college student, a freshman, but this is where it gets complicated. My academic advisor called me in a panic right before Christmas break. With the amount of college credits that I earned taking dual-enrollment courses, plus a full credit load my first semester of college, I’m actually, technically closing in on finishing my sophomore year of college, credit wise.” She takes a deep breath and lowers her eyes to the table.

“Holy shit,” I reply.

Shocked at my response, she looks back up at me. “I know. It came as quite a shock to me too. Since I will be so close to completing my sophomore year, the requirements for my Broadcast Journalism degree required an internship. Since they are hard to come by, she suggested I not wait until next year, so I jumped at this opportunity. It just so happens to be across the country. So, um…here I am.” A small smile creeps across her face. She’s so fucking beautiful when she smiles.

“Well, smarty pants, tell me about your family,” I prod her for more personal information. I need to know more about her, aside from the fact that she’s brilliant and sexy, and mine. Shit, not yet, but she will be.

Relaxing into our conversation a bit more, she smiles as she continues. “Well, it’s just me and my dad. He never remarried after my mom died. Honestly, our relationship is weird. I rarely see him. He’s a firefighter.” Jessica stops here and takes another sip of her Diet Coke. Twirling the straw with her fingers, her eyes gloss over slightly. “Actually, he’s the Fire Chief for the City of Santa Ruiz. He pretty much spends every free second at work. It’s how he coped with my mom’s death. He poured his life into his work.” Her eyes drop again. I notice she does this when something’s bothering her, or she’s thinking deeply.

I swallow hard. I understood the meaning behind those words all too well. Her dad put his job before her. What a fucker. Changing topics, I ask, “Boyfriend?”

“Um. No.” A quiet sigh escapes from between her perfect pink lips. Her shoulders sink slightly, almost falling in defeat. “Not anymore,” she says, reaching for her drink again. She takes a long sip from the straw and sets the cup down again, not making eye contact with me. She’s suddenly quiet so I will ask questions, and hopefully she’ll answer.

“You said your last name is Harper, right?” Finally making eye contact again, she smiles slightly.

“Yes, very perceptive.”

“It’s my job to be perceptive.” I smile back at her. “Then who’s Garcia?” I ask inquisitively.

She quietly gasps at that question and I see her back straighten. I’ve struck a nerve; I can tell by the way she shifts in her seat and fidgets with her hands.
Who the fuck is Garcia?

“How do you know about the Garcias?” she asks, eyeing me closely.

“What?” Now I’m confused. I’m asking about a Garcia, singular, not plural. “I was asking who Garcia was, not who the Garcias were,” I clarify.

Her concerned look remains planted on her face, and I can tell she’s not going to offer up information on Garcia easily. “The day Matt and I came to your condo to tell you about your car light, you were wearing a Santa Ruiz Fire Department shirt that said ‘Garcia’ on the front.” She nods in recognition, closing her eyes and holding them closed for a few seconds.

“That’s the ex,” she says quietly. “Can we talk about you now?” she asks, looking uncomfortable.

I don’t want to talk about me. There is so much more I need to know about her. We’ve just scratched the surface, but I’ll play her game for now.

“Sure. What do you want to know, Jessica?” I ask coyly. She hears the innuendo in my question and the tone of my voice.

Rolling her eyes at me, she asks, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight,” I answer honestly.

Jessica’s eyes widen.

“What? Does twenty-eight scare you?” I say with a low voice.

“Why would twenty-eight scare me?” she snaps back at me, trying to seem unaffected.

“Next question,” I say. I want to continue getting to know her, not piss her off, so it’s best if we move on.

“What made you want to become a police officer?”

Fuck. Loaded question. Do I go with the real reason or the safe explanation? I’ll go safe, for now. “Our dad was a police officer, and my uncle was too. It’s all I’ve ever known. From the time I can remember, it was always something I wanted to do.”

A small smile spreads across her face. “I like that answer,” she says shyly.

“Good,” I reply. “What else do you want to know?”

“Have you ever been shot at?”

“Once.”

“Do you ever get scared?”

“Nah, not really.”

“What’s your favorite part of being a police officer?”

“Handcuffs.” God, the expression on her face is priceless. She squirms.

“Handcuffs? Did you say handcuffs?” she spits out. I realize I may have just scared the shit out of her.

Squinting my eyes at her, I lean in against the table again. “There’s something about restraining people that really gets me excited.”
Fuck if that isn’t true.

She doesn’t seem amused. In an almost mocking tone, she says, “You get excited handcuffing bad guys and tossing them in the back of your car?”
No, I get excited handcuffing women to my bed and fucking them senseless.

“Yep.” I keep my answer short. “Jesus, I’m kidding. I love helping people. That’s what I love most about my job.” Rolling my eyes at her, I shake my head in amusement at how worked up she gets. “But I like handcuffs too,” I quip.

Silence fills the air between us for a few seconds as Lindsay strides back up. “At least you two didn’t kill each other while I was gone.”

Neither Jessica nor I respond to her remark. Just as Lindsay is getting settled back in at the table, our waiter reappears.

“Anything else I can get for y’all tonight?” We all glance back and forth to each other. Jessica shakes her head lightly, and Lindsay shrugs her shoulders.

“No, I think we’re all set,” I respond, wishing that one of the girls had wanted another drink. I’m not ready to let Jessica go home yet. I have a million more questions for her. I need to get inside that head of hers…and those pants. Reaching for the bill at the same time, Jessica’s hand just beats mine to it. I grab her hand firmly, holding it in place. “I’m picking this up.”

“Landon, you don’t have to do that. I can pay for myself,” Jessica counters.

Lindsay pipes in, “It’s not worth arguing about with him, Jessica. A little tip about my brother: you won’t win an argument with him. Just let him pay the bill.”

She releases the bill, but I continue my gentle grip on her hand. It’s soft and delicate, and I’m not ready to let go.

“Ah, okay. Thanks. You don’t have to pay for me.” She’s trying to pull her hand out of mine, but I still won’t let go.

“I know I don’t, but I want to.”

A small smile creeps across my face. She drops her eyes from mine, and I finally release her hand. Reaching into her purse, I see she’s rifling around.

“Lose something?” I ask. “You could fit a small child in that bag.” Her purse is huge and seemingly full of stuff.

She laughs and shrugs “I like big purses; what can I say?” She has the cutest laugh. Pulling papers out of her purse and setting them on the table, she removes her wallet, a case with sunglasses, and a small make-up bag. Shit, her bag is a never-ending pit.

“Ah ha! Found them,” she says, jingling the keys in her hand. She starts placing the contents of her bag from the table back into her purse. All of a sudden, she freezes and all the color drains from her face. Her smile is gone and her eyes are glossy. She’s holding a plain white envelope in her perfectly manicured fingers. Shoving the last of her contents into her bag, she turns quickly to Lindsay. “I really have to go. Thank you for inviting me to dinner. And Landon, thank you for paying. I, ah, um, really have to get home now.”

Without another word, she slides out of the booth, offers a tight smile to Lindsay, and a small wave to me, then hurries out of the pub. Her pace is fast and she’s gripping the white envelope in her hand along with her car keys.

“What just happened?” Lindsay asks me, looking confused.

“Hell if I know. She looked at that envelope in her hand and it was like she saw a ghost.” I recall the look on her face, and it was a combination of sadness and fear.

“I’ll ask her on Monday. Thanks for dinner, Lan. Let’s go.”

Chapter 35

Jess

My heart is racing. My feet can’t keep up with how fast my body wants to get me to my car. I’d recognize that handwriting anywhere. How? When did that envelope get into my purse? My mind is consumed with thoughts of what’s in that envelope. Clutching it to my chest the entire drive home, I’m so distracted with thoughts that I don’t even know how I made it back to my condo. I sit in my parking spot for a minute, just holding the envelope, staring at the script “Jess” that’s written on the front. I even smelled the envelope to see if I could smell him.

Fumbling with my keys, I somehow make it into my condo and toss my purse onto the kitchen table. Flipping on lights all over the kitchen and living room, I sit down on the couch, still clutching the letter. I stare at it. I want to open it, yet I’m so afraid of what the words on the inside will do to me. Since I told Gabe that day in my living room to let me go, he has. But right now, I want him here. I want to hear him tell me that he loves me, that we’ll be okay, even though I know in my heart we won’t.

When I slide my finger under the sealed flap of the envelope, it tears open, and I pull the folded letter out. Taking a deep breath, I tremble slightly at the sight of his handwriting. Unfolding the letter completely, I begin reading.

Jess,

These weeks of silence have damn near killed me. I can’t focus, and I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything but you. My days always began and ended with you, and I have been lost for weeks. I know that you asked me to let you go, but please just let me know that you are safe, that you are okay. Tell me something, Jess, anything. Communicate with me, talk to me.

For the rest of my life, I will live with the guilt of knowing that I couldn’t do the one thing I promised you I would do: take care of you and keep you safe. Every single day, I regret leaving you that night. From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. I will never get over the fact that I failed you. I failed you. None of this was your fault. Please know that.

I know you don’t want to be found, you made that clear. Wherever it is you are headed, I hope that happiness and peace await you. You are truly the strongest, most amazing woman I have ever met. I have no doubt that your future holds much success in whatever you choose to do.

No matter where the roads in our lives lead us, you will always be the love of my life, the one person who touched my soul, and the one person I will never forget. I will never get over you Jessica Louise Harper. Always know that there is one person in this world that loves you forever.