Heart in Wire: A by a Thread Companion Novel (25 page)

A few minutes later, Billy came out of the coffee shop with two coffees, a bag, and a strained expression on his face.

“So, I just saw Millie buying two coffees and breakfast stuff too. Awkward.”

“Undoubtedly,” Patrick said under his breath.

“She moved up the road after she left the house,” Billy explained, passing Patrick a cup. “El’s living with her right now, looking for a new place.”

What. The. Fuck
. Patrick couldn’t form a sentence. Time stood still as he tried to get his bearings.

“Patrick, you good? You want me to drive?”

He shook his head and pulled away from the curb just in time to see Millie walk out in her tight spandex running pants. She held her hand up in a somber wave goodbye. That would be their only goodbye. He just drove past her feeling numb; El hadn’t gone to George. Why didn’t she come back to him? Was that what she’d been trying to tell him by calling? He hadn’t listened to a single message, just erased them.

“It doesn’t change anything,” Patrick finally said once they’d reached 95 South.

“It doesn’t?” Billy challenged.

“No, it doesn’t change shit. She didn’t want me.”

“I don’t think she knew what she wanted that day. I’ll tell you, when she saw you with, umm, what was the blonde, leggy girl’s name?”

“Kathy.”

“When she saw you with Kathy, I believe she had smoke coming out her ears. She told you she loved you, Patrick, she just loved him too, and now she’s by herself.” Billy took a large bite of some sort of pastry.

“She told me she was going to George’s when she left me.” His voice reflected his unsure psyche about why she lied. Why had she told him she was going back to George when she wasn’t? It didn’t make any sense. “She lied to me.”

“I think she loves you both.” Billy shrugged. “Maybe she intended to go back to George and you changed her mind.”

“What?” He couldn’t wrap his brain around this information, not when, for two weeks, he’d been fucking every woman who looked at him just trying to get the memory of El’s moan out of his head.

He lifted his foot off the gas.

“If you turn this moving truck around I’ll beat your fucking ass,” Billy warned.

“I’m not, I just...”

“You said it didn’t change anything.”

“It doesn’t. I just wish I would’ve known, I guess.”

“Then you should’ve taken her 15,000 calls over the past two weeks.” Billy drank his coffee and pulled out his phone. “I can’t wait until opening day. April is only a few weeks away.”

Patrick shook his head. “April is a couple months away.”

“Whatever. The countdown has begun. First the Super Bowl, then I can’t wait for baseball season.”

Patrick laughed.

“Did I ever tell you I wanted to be a pitcher?” Billy asked, taking another bite of his pastry.

Patrick shook his head. Jamie had been his pitcher. The image of Jamie falling seared through his mind; he shut it out. “No.”

“Oh yeah, I wanted to be a pitcher, but I hit everyone. I was fast, but no ball control.”

Patrick sniggered. “I still hear that about you.”

After several hours of small talk, Billy fell asleep, his head leaned on the window. Patrick was alone with his thoughts, which weren’t exactly welcome. His phone buzzed and he hesitantly looked at the screen, thinking it was El again. It wasn’t.

His phone buzzed again, it was his sister. “Hey,” he answered with an easy smile on his face.

“I’m headed that way,” she said in greeting.

“Me too.”

“Where are we staying again?”

“I sent you the address,” Patrick answered.

“I know, but who are we staying with again? I feel like I have the name wrong.”

“Jesse McIntyre.”

“That’s what I thought. Jesse McIntyre, like the football player?”

“No, not like the football player, the football player.” He smiled.

A squeal rang through the phone, so loud that Patrick had to pull it away from his ear. What is it with girls and that noise?

“KK, please don’t act like an ass when you get there.”

“I’m not an ass; I just can’t believe we’re spending the night with
the
Jesse McIntyre.”

“He won’t like you if you call him that to his face.” Patrick scratched his head in contemplation. “Actually, he might like it if you called him that.”

“I won’t. Mom said to come home as soon as you can,” she said, changing the subject.

“Oh yeah, why?” he asked timidly.

“Trev isn’t doing well.” Katrina’s voice was low.

“What’s up?”

“He’s got some sort of an infection that they can’t seem to get rid of. I don’t know.”

“Okay. Mom okay?”

“As okay as Mom can be,” Katrina answered.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a few hours. Jesse put your name at the gate.”

Squeal!

“Damn it, KK.”

“A gate!”

“If you get there before me, just sit in the car so I can make sure you’re not acting crazy.”

“No way,” she laughed. “I’ll be getting acquainted with the Jesse McIntyre.”

“KK,” he warned.

“Chillax,” she soothed. “I’m just giving you shit.”

“Fuck your chillax. That is the dumbest non-word I’ve ever heard. Don’t tell me to chillax.”

“Wound tight much?” she countered and laughed melodically.

“Whatever. See you in a few.”

Okay...” She hesitated. “I love you, Patrick.”

“You too.”

Katrina was the most selfless person he knew, putting all her dreams on hold so that she could help their mother with Trevor. He didn’t know how she could do it, stay in that house and watch the train wreck that was his brother’s life, which in turn, was his mother’s life. His mother was the strongest woman he’d ever met. She’d kept him, his brother and sister together when his dad left. Karen Greer had become a savior after the accident with his brother. She was a mother, a professional, and a nurse. He had no idea how she’d done it without losing her mind.

Billy woke for a bit and they switched spots. While he was driving, Billy started pointing out different towns and useless facts about where they were.

“Do you remember when you took El down to Savannah?” he asked after twenty minutes of sightseeing.

“Of course I do,” Patrick muttered. He didn’t know where this was going.

“How long did it take you to drive there from DC?”

“That day?” Patrick thought a minute. “About 9 hours, because we went straight out to the island.” Patrick gazed out the window at the passing cars and remembered the funeral for Jamie.

Patrick kicked his feet up on the porch and leaned back in the chair. Taking a long swig of the beer he purchased on the way back from the funeral. He wondered what Jamie was doing while everyone was mourning him. He punched in Billy’s number.

“Yo.” Billy answered on the first ring.

“This is the worst shit that I’ve ever had to do,” Patrick said.

Billy was silent.

“She fucking laid on the ground next to the casket with her fucking dog, crying, until I picked her up and carried her to the car. It was one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen and all for nothing. I just don’t get it.”

“She took her dog to the funeral?”

“Marched that fucker right into the church. You should’ve seen this lady following her down the hall saying, ‘excuse me, ma’am, you can’t bring your dog here,’” Patrick answered. “Stella just ignored her and kept walking like she didn’t ever hear her.”

Billy chuckled a bit at that part. “That’s rough. You guys coming back tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. I think so; she’s basically catatonic. She wouldn’t talk to anyone today really.” Patrick took another swig of his beer and sighed. “She wouldn’t even talk to her parents. I’m not sure she even realized they were there until they were in her face. Even then she just looked straight ahead and cried.”

Billy didn’t respond to that bit of information.

Patrick took another gulp of beer. “I’m assuming that Jamie’s family knows. They wouldn’t let the family bury someone who isn’t really dead, right?”

He hoped he was right. He couldn’t believe someone from his agency was making this family go through this. Stella was just collateral damage for the undercover mission. It must be a big one.

“I’m sure they know.” Billy agreed with hesitation. “Right?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know.” Patrick shook his head and then leaned it back, looking up at the clear black sky. He could see a million stars. He forgot how they lit up the night here.

“Hey. I gotta go.”

“Later,” Patrick said, putting his phone on the table.

He heard a scratching noise on the glass door and turned to see Cooper’s big paw knocking against the door. Patrick let the front two legs of the chair fall to the floor and got up, opening the back door. Cooper bounded down the stairs and peed as soon as he reached a bush. The dog turned and came up the stairs two at a time.

“Hey, boy. Pretty rough day, huh?” Patrick turned up the beer and drained it.

He walked inside and grabbed another beer. Cooper followed him inside and then up the stairs to where Stella was sleeping. Patrick took off his shoes and padded up the stairs quietly. The room that Stella occupied was the first one to the left and the door was ajar, a low light coming from inside. He stepped to the door and pushed it a little bit. Peering in, he saw her collapsed on the queen-size bed, her long black hair splayed on the pillow a stark contrast to the white pillowcase. She was still wearing her tight black dress, which was hiked up, showing her upper thigh. She also didn’t even bother taking her red high heels off when she got in the bed, they were dangling off her toes. She looked peaceful and Patrick felt sorry for her, sorry that her world shattered and it was all bullshit. She hadn’t said three full sentences to him since they met. He wondered what she was like. Was she naive and happy, easily breakable? She was obviously smart, she was going to a good law school. Jamie had told Patrick they’d been dating since she was a freshman. Her wide-eyed “nice to meet you” had made his heart clench before he told her the news. This would change her. He promised himself he would help as much as he could.

Walking back down the stairs, he wished Jamie was close so that he could punch him in the fucking face for being so naïve and stupid. Why hadn’t he asked Patrick about Burns? Patrick would have guarded him against agreeing to go undercover in Burns’ department. It never seemed to end well for anybody.

He drained his second beer and grabbed a third one from the kitchen. He went back on the porch to enjoy the breeze; the humid Georgia weather had made him sweat through his shirt hours ago. His phone rang, it was Kevin.

“Hey, man,” Patrick answered.

“How’d it go?”

“About as bad as I thought,” Patrick retorted.

“I figured as much,” Kevin muttered. “So, I have more great news for you.”

“Great,” Patrick said sarcastically.