Running Away With You (Running #3) (37 page)

I’ve never felt this kind of anger before.  Every muscle in my body is tense and I can feel my heart racing. 

Panic and urgency set in.  I need to remove all traces of our meeting – immediately.  The first thing I spot is the minibar.  A pair of dirty glasses and a small pile of empty mini bottles need to be cleaned and discarded.

Next is the bedroom.  I open all the curtains and windows, hoping the sunlight and fresh air will sanitize the room.  I know I won’t be sleeping in here tonight, so I make the bed and put away my dirty clothes.  I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight – if I can sleep at all. 

One by one, my senses come alive. 

No matter how much cleaning up I do, I can’t remove the pervasive smell of him 

His cheap cologne fills the air, seeping into my pores, reminding me of what I almost allowed to happen.

I need a shower.  I turn on the hot water and step into the tub.  I scrub every inch of my skin until I can’t feel him, taste him, or smell him anymore.  I soak until the pain dissolves.  I have no idea how much time has passed when I finally feel whole.

I open the bathroom door and stop dead in my tracks.  Evan is sitting on my couch in complete silence.  The television isn’t on and there’s no music playing.  He’s just sitting there.  Waiting.  Holding a Colorado Rockies baseball hat.

You Get What You Pay For

“H
oly shit, Evan.  You scared the crap out of me.”  I place my hand on my chest and I can feel my heart beating wildly.  Can he see the guilt and shame that I carry? 

Evan tosses the hat onto the table.  “Let’s talk,” he pronounces, his voice flat and emotionless.

I have to think fast; play dumb.  “What a nice surprise.  I didn’t think I’d see you until tomorrow.”  I rewrap the terry cloth robe around myself and tie it tightly, trying to act as if nothing is wrong, as if nothing has happened.  I grab two bottles of water from the mini fridge, offering one to Evan.  “Want a water?”

“What I want is an explanation, Juliette.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do.”  Evan gets up and begins pacing around the room.  “Whose hat is this and why did I find it on the floor in your bedroom?”

I briefly consider telling Evan everything.  If David makes good on his threat, and I’m sure he will, Evan is going to find out anyway.  It’s probably better that he hears it from me.  And he will, the moment we get home.  This is not the right time and it is definitely not the right place.  I need time; enough time to put a few hundred miles between him and David before I even consider telling him.

“What?  That old thing?  That’s my Colorado Rockies hat.  I went to school there, remember?”  I’ve never been a very good liar; it’s just not who I am.  I hate doing this, but I can’t backtrack now. 

“Why are you lying to me, Juliette?  This isn’t your hat, and we both know it.  It’s written all over your face.”  Now Evan stands, staring me down.  There’s a fierce look in his eyes that frightens me.  I’ve seen that look before, when Evan saw me talking to Ryker, and that situation got out of control rather quickly.

“Evan, you need to relax.  I’m telling you it
is
my hat.  I wore it on the plane this morning.”  I take a few steps toward him, but he backs away from me.  He’s fighting to maintain control by taking big, deep breaths.  It’s not working.

He brings the hat up to his nose and inhales deeply.  He curls his lip, shakes his head, and tosses it to me.  Instinctively, I reach out and catch it.  As it travels through the air, I can detect the unmistakable scent of men’s cologne, Dumbass David’s cologne.  “When exactly did you start wearing cheap men’s cologne?  It smells like this hat just walked out of a fucking Hollister store.”

That gives me an idea.  I might be able to talk my way out of this after all, so I smile, big and wide.  “Oh, Evan.  They have a boutique downstairs.  You must have seen it when you checked in.  I was looking at the men’s cologne and some teenager spritzed me with a sample.  That’s why I had to shower.  I couldn’t get the smell off.”  I bring the hat up to my nose and sniff.  “It really is an awful cologne.”

His eyes narrow as he considers my explanation.  “You’re going to keep on lying to me, aren’t you?”  He pulls out his phone and starts looking through it for something as my heart sinks and my stomach churns uncomfortably.  “I’ve never seen this hat before, and you most certainly were not wearing it when I took you to the airport this morning.  But even so, that doesn’t explain the text message I got from someone who saw a man leaving your room about twenty minutes ago.”

I open my mouth to answer, but Evan stops me.  He holds up his hand and shakes his head.  “Wait, let me guess.”  He walks around the room, thinking.  “The television didn’t work and they sent maintenance up to repair it.”  Walking right past me, Evan moves toward the minibar.  “Or maybe it was the refrigerator.”  He opens the cabinet door and peers into the garbage can, immediately spotting the empty bottles.  Slamming the door, he barks, “Drinking during the day?  What the fuck is going on?  Tell me right now, or I walk straight out that door!”

“Evan, there’s nothing going on.  I swear.”  I can barely hold back the tears.

Evan looks right at me, and this time there’s a look of pure desperation on his face.  “You’re hiding something.  I don’t know what and I don’t know why.  When you’re ready to admit it, let me know.”

He opens the door and turns to me before he leaves.  “You’re breaking my heart, Juliette.  I hope whatever happened was worth it.”  The door closes and he’s gone. 

Once I realize he’s really leaving, I race to the door and follow him into the hallway.  He’s standing in the elevator, waiting for the doors to close.  “Evan, wait.  Please don’t leave.  Not like this.  It’s not what you think.”

He pushes a button to hold the elevator door.  “Was there someone in your room today?” he asks.

I hang my head low, wrap my arms around my waist, and nod my head.  “Yes, but you have to ... ”

He interrupts. “Was he in your bedroom?”

“Evan, listen to me, please.  Just let me explain.”

“This isn’t an essay question, Juliette.  It’s a simple yes or no.  Did you have a man in your bedroom today?”  The words come seething out from between his teeth like they’re poison.

“Please come back inside, Evan.  Please.  Not here.  Not like this.”

“Yes or no.  Just answer my question,” he impatiently demands.

In a voice barely above a whisper, I tell him, “Yes.”

Evan punches the inside of the elevator wall so hard, I could swear I hear a bone in his hand actually crack.  “I have never, ever, even looked at another woman since we’ve met.  I thought you were different.  I thought ... I thought ... I was a fucking idiot.”  The elevator doors close, and just like that, he’s gone.

Doors up and down the hallway begin to open and faces peek out to see what’s going on.  Horror-stricken, I run back to my room, shut the door, and fall to the floor trembling.  Four words come to my mind, flashing like a billboard sign, and I rock back and forth, repeating them aloud over and over again, acknowledging the gravity of my situation. “What have I done?”

T
ime passes without meaning or consequence.  Eventually, there are no tears left to shed and I slowly rise off the floor and attempt to pull myself together.  I stumble around blurry-eyed trying to find my phone, and when I do, it’s blowing up with missed calls and messages. 

There are at least a dozen from Auggie alone.  He must have gotten my message and now he’s freaking out.  In hindsight, I know it wasn’t very wise of me to leave him a message like that.  He knows the emotional torture David put me through in the past and he must be worried sick.

I try calling, but it goes directly to his voicemail.  With no other options, I type out a short text to let him know I’m okay.  I tell him that David left, we talked for a long time and came to an understanding, and that he won’t be a problem any more.  I wait patiently, but get no response.

There’s a knock on the door, most likely the girls trying to get me to come out with them.  I ignore the knocking, hoping they will eventually give up and go away.  I can’t lie any more and I certainly can’t tell them the truth.

The knocking turns into forceful banging, along with an angry male voice. “Jette, open the door.  It’s Adam.  I have to talk to you.”

Shit.  I forgot Adam was travelling with the team for the last game of the season.  Reluctantly I open the door to let him in.  He takes one look at me and I know I must look a mess.  I never brushed my hair after my shower and all I’m wearing is a robe that hangs on me like a wet sack.  “Go get changed, and for God’s sake, brush your hair.  You look like shit.  We need to talk.”

Of course I look like shit.  I’d be shocked if I didn’t.  “Adam, please just go.  I don’t have the energy to deal with you now.”

He grabs me by the arm and drags me into my bedroom.  He rips open my suitcase, grabs a pair of jeans along with a T-shirt, and tosses them to me.  “Put this on.  Now.  I’m not fucking around, Jette.”  He turns around and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I’m moving in slow motion.  I have to think about every movement before I make it.  Lift leg.  Slip on pant leg.  Repeat.  Snap.  Zip.  It continues that way until I’m dressed and my hair is tied up in some sort of a messy bun. 

I emerge to find Adam sitting on the couch, holding a glass filled with some sort of amber liquid.  Whiskey, I would guess.  I sit down slowly and deliberately, not at all anxious to hear whatever lecture he’s about to give me.

He takes one look at me and blurts out, “Are you selfish, stupid, or suicidal?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.  What the hell were you thinking?  It’s the day before the last game of the season, and thanks to you, Evan’s a fucking mess. He came to my room with his hand iced and wrapped in a towel and he asked me to get him a bottle of tequila.”

“Oh my God!  Is Evan okay?  How bad is it?”

“I just left Evan with the team doctor.  He sprained his hand.  He’s on the bench for tomorrow’s game, Jette.”

A sudden burst of energy ignites and I leap to my feet, scrambling to find my shoes.

“What are you doing?” Adam asks.

“Looking for my shoes.  I have to go to him, Adam.  Isn’t that why you’re here?  You’re going to take me to see him, right?”

Slowly, Adam rises from the couch, walks over to me, takes me by the hand, and leads me toward a chair.  “Juliette, sit down.  I’m not taking you to see him.  I’m taking you home.”

“Home?  I don’t understand.”  I look over at Adam and he’s got a deadly serious look on his face.  He’s not kidding.

“I’ve already called Jocelyn and Brianna and told them you’re flying back home tonight.  They think you’re sick.”

“Is Evan going to meet us there?  Is he leaving too?”

“No, he’s not.  As a matter of fact, Marcus is at the beach house right now packing up a few of Evan’s things and getting him a hotel room.”  I’m in shock.  I don’t know what to say.  “He doesn’t want you at the game and he doesn’t want to see you, Jette.”

“Adam, if I could just see him, I could explain everything.  I can make him understand.  I know I can.  Please, Sparky, I’m begging you.  Take me there.” 

“Juliette Fletcher, we’ve been through Hell and back together.  But my loyalty lies with Evan.  I have to do what’s best for him, and right now, what’s best for him is to put about seven hundred miles between you two.” 

“Did Evan tell you?  Do you know what happened?”

“He told me enough.  I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation, but right now I have to get you checked out of this hotel before Evan gets back.  Let him cool off.  Just give him a little space and time enough to calm down.”

Everything around me is hazy as I walk around gathering my things and tossing them into my bag.  I’m in a mindless fog.  I have no idea if I’ve left anything behind, and frankly, I couldn’t care less.

But the thing about a fog is that eventually it clears, and when it does, I find just enough inner strength to stand up for myself like I should have done from the very beginning with David.  “I’m not going,” I tell Adam.