Running Away With You (Running #3) (38 page)

Adam’s not having any of it.  “I’ve already checked you out.  We’re going to the airport to exchange our tickets for two seats on the red-eye back to Atlantic City.  I know it’s not what you want right now, but it’s for the best.  Trust me.”

“Adam, I will not be handled by anyone, not even you.  So why don’t you just go back and tell your boss that if he wants me to leave, he’s going to have to come up here and tell me himself.”  I plant my feet firmly on the ground and I have no intention of leaving this room.  “You and I both know I’m not having an affair.  Do I have to tell you who was up here in my room, or have you figured it out already?”

“I’m not an idiot, Jette.  I know damn well that scumbag is the one who was up here, and I don’t want to know why he was anywhere near your bedroom.  I know too much already.  But if you don’t leave with me now, I’ll have no choice but to tell Evan everything.”

“I’m not an idiot, either,” I argue.  “I know you won’t tell Evan anything.  Not now.  How do you think it will help to tell him that I’ve been blackmailed and,” I struggle to find the right words, “well, worse?”

Adam looks at me quizzically, clearly clueless about what happened here today.  “What could be worse than being blackmailed?” 

I say nothing and wait for him to work it out in his head.  It doesn’t take long for Adam to connect the dots. 

“Did he?” 

I shake my head.  “No.  But I almost ... ”  My voice trails off.  “He wanted more money.  Money I don’t have.  Now I’ve really pissed him off.  And Evan thinks I ... ”

“What do you expect him to think?  You had some prick up here in your hotel room.  What were you thinking?”

“You weren’t there.  You couldn’t possibly fathom ...  I had no choice.”

Pacing around the room, he says the very thing I didn’t want to admit to myself.  “Bullshit.  You had a choice.  You could have called any one of us and we would have been there for you.  But you decided you were going to handle this all by yourself, and look how well that worked out.” 

I try to defend myself.  “Evan wasn’t supposed to find out – not now and definitely not like this.”

“Well, I may not agree with your choices, but you are right about one thing – telling Evan now would be a disaster.  The Sentinels have a playoff game in two weeks, and Evan can’t help the team if he’s in jail for murder.”

“So what do we do?” I ask.

“I have no idea.  This is your mess.  When you figure it out, let me know.  I’ve got to go pick up Evan and take him back to the hotel.”  Adam walks out the door, leaving me alone once again.  I don’t know what to do.

I call Auggie again, hoping that perhaps he can help me figure out what to do.  Again the call goes right to voicemail.  I suppose Evan will be here soon to tell me he wants me gone, so there’s nothing left to do but wait.  I grab a blanket from the bed and curl up on the couch, thumbing through the channels, hoping to find something to numb my brain while I wait for the axe to drop.  An old Brat Pack movie has just started, and I can’t resist watching
The Breakfast Club
for the umpteenth time.

I have no idea what I’ll say to Evan when he arrives; beg forgiveness, perhaps.  All I know is that I can’t tell him everything, but I also can’t lie to him anymore.  As the images flash across the screen, I struggle to find just the right words to convince Evan to forgive me.  It’s no use. There are no words to express my shame and desperation.  I have no excuse to offer.

My head begins to pound mercilessly.  The migraine I complained about earlier is now here in full force.  I am physically and emotionally drained.  There’s no way I can keep my eyes open, and there’s no reason to fight the relief that will come when sleep arrives.

I’ve never been able to sleep well in strange places, and this hotel room, as comfortable as it may be, is anything but comforting.  But even if I sleep for just a few minutes, it will be a welcome. 

When my eyes open again, the room is bathed in darkness and the credits are rolling.  I slept through the entire movie.  Evan never came.

As I struggle to wake, there is an incessant banging on my door.  I turn off the television and pull myself together as best I can.  There’s no point in avoiding the inevitable.  It’s do or die time.

I take a deep, cleansing breath and cautiously grab the doorknob, afraid of what I may be greeted with.  Before opening the door, I glance through the peephole and the most welcome sight is standing there before me.  I swing the door open and throw my arms around him.  “Auggie, what are you doing here?  How did you get here?  Did you fly?”

“I did.  And I wouldn’t have made it through takeoff if it wasn’t for moneybags over here.”  He jabs Derek in the ribs.

“Oh my God!  Derek?  You’re here too?”  I throw my arms around him, thankful for the support.  Just seeing the them breathes new life into me.

“Well, that message of yours came through right after the closing on my house.  When Auggie told me you might be in trouble, we got on the first flight to Indianapolis.”

“How did you know where to find me?” I ask.  I know the hotel doesn’t give out information about its guests.

“The minute we landed, I called Adam.”  The joy I felt just moments ago is now gone.  “He told us everything, baby girl.  Get your bags together and let’s go.”

“I can’t go.  Suppose Evan comes back?  I have to be here.”

Derek looks me square in the eyes and tells me in no uncertain terms, “He’s not coming, Jette.  Not tonight.  It’s time to go.”

Grudgingly, I grab my bag and follow the boys to the elevator.  Only instead of pushing the button for the lobby, Derek pushes the button for the top floor.  “Derek, where exactly are we going?” I ask.

He turns and tells me, “I booked us a three-bedroom suite.”

“We have a lot to discuss,” Auggie adds.

It’s nearly midnight when I finish telling my entire story.  I don’t leave out any details. 

“Juliette, let’s get one thing straight,” Derek tells me.  “You were not unfaithful.  You did the right thing.  You said no and you stopped.  You need to get that straight in your head.”

Auggie hasn’t let go of my hand since I started talking.  “He’s right Jepetto.  And Evan will understand.  He loves you.  Give him a day or two to calm down, and then you can explain all of it.  He’ll come around.”  I look into Auggie’s eyes, and I can see love, patience, and kindness there.

Derek, on the other hand, looks like he’s ready to kick some ass.  “Auggie, if you don’t mind, I need to clear my head.  I’d like to go for a walk.  Will you stay here with her?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Auggie assures him as he walks out the door.

Suddenly my phone starts playing Lady Antebellum’s “I Run to You”, and I know it’s Evan calling.  Thank God.

“Hello?  Evan?  Please talk to me,” I beg.

“Wha’s his name?” Evan slurs.

“Whose name?” I ask.

“Your boyfriend, tha’s who.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, Evan.  I have a fiancé I love very much.”

“Tha’s a lie.  If hiss not your boyfriend, why d’ya fuck ‘im?”

“Evan, you’re drunk and I’m not going to explain this to you now.  Where’s Adam?”

“Wha’s his name?” he asks again.

“Please stop this,” I plead.

“Wha’s his name?”

“Evan, I –”

“Tell me his fuckin’ name!” he shouts into the phone.

“His name is David,” I finally confess.

He repeats the name, “David,” and then he laughs.  “Next time ya see David, tell ‘im he’s dead.”  Evan drops the phone.  I can hear him talking to someone in the background.  “Let’s go.  I want to go now.”

There’s a shuffling noise, but then Adam picks up the phone.  “Jette?  Is that you?”

“Adam, what’s going on over there?”

“I just got here.  Someone gave him a bottle of Patron.  I’ve gotta go.”  With a click he’s gone, and I have to trust that he can handle Evan.  At least I know the entire floor of the hotel is filled with his teammates, who won’t let him do anything crazy.

Auggie and I wait up for Derek.  We watch old movies and drink hot chocolate for hours.  Just as we’re about to give up and go to bed, the door opens and in walks Derek.  “You didn’t have to wait up for me,” he mumbles.

“We wanted to,” I tell him.  He still seems upset.  “Do you want to talk?” I ask.

“Nah.  I’m going to shower and then turn in.  It’s been a long day,” he replies.

“The longest,” I agree.

T
he three of us head downstairs for an early breakfast.  I keep looking over my shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of Evan and the team.  But logic tells me that even under the best of circumstances, I wouldn’t get to see Evan before his game.  The team is having a private breakfast, and then they’re off the stadium for their meeting and run-through.

The best I can hope for is a phone call, and the chance of that happening is slim to none.

“We may as well leave,” I tell the boys.  “I’m not going to see him, and after the game they’re going to all get on their plane together and go home.  We’re just wasting our time here.”

Auggie and Derek agree, so as soon as we finish our meal, we check out of the hotel and head straight for the airport.  For the first time, luck is on my side, and we’re able to purchase three seats on a direct flight that leaves in forty-five minutes.  We will be home in New Jersey before his game even begins.

A
uggie agrees to stay the night in the guest room, and Derek is right next-door in his new home.  It’s nice to know he’s close by, particularly now that he knows all my deepest, darkest secrets.  There’s nothing left to hide from him or from Auggie.

I get up early and turn on ESPN as I begin to brew a pot of coffee.  The Sentinels lost last night, and by all accounts it’s solely because of their missing starting quarterback.  They air an interview Evan gave after the game, where he claimed his injury was minor, but they didn’t want to take any chances that he might turn a fracture so close to the playoffs.  When asked how the injury occurred, Evan stated, “It’s just one of those things.  You take a hit the wrong way.  Normally I’d play through it, but we have a big game coming up, so we decided to play it safe.” 

Listening to his voice and seeing his face is agonizingly painful.  His injury is because of me.  The team lost because of me.  He looks tired and tortured, and I only have myself to blame for all of it.

Auggie comes wandering into the kitchen, searching for the coffee mugs.  “I’ve missed waking up to your freshly brewed coffee, Jette my pet.”  I hand him a pint of caramel coffee creamer and his sleepy eyes light up.  “You’re a mind-reader.”

I’m grateful to have him here with me.  The restaurant is closed today and he’s a welcome distraction from the reality of my present situation.

I hand him the remote and the newspaper.  I know he likes to start his day with a cup of hot coffee and reading the news on his iPad.  “What’s this?” he asks, looking at it like he’s solving a riddle.

“It’s called a newspaper.  I know you don’t have your iPad, and I thought you’d like to have something to read while you have your morning Joe.”  He shrugs his shoulders and begins flipping through the pages. 

“I’m going to take a shower.  Make yourself comfortable.  I can take you home whenever you’re ready.”  I place my empty coffee mug in the dishwasher and slip away. 

After my shower, I take my time getting dressed.  There’s no rush.  The sooner I finish, the sooner Auggie will leave and I’ll be left alone.  When I do emerge, I find Auggie completely absorbed in a crossword puzzle.  “Isn’t it a little early to be torturing yourself like that?” I ask.

“It’s called stimulating your intellect, Juliette.  You should try it sometime.”  Auggie looks up at me and smiles.

“Ouch, that hurt,” I tell him, swatting him on the shoulder.  I pull up a chair and sit beside him.  “So, how’s it going?”

“Not bad,” he answers without looking up.  “I’m stuck on this one word.”

“Tell me. Maybe I can help.”

“Sure, why not?  The clue reads,
A stringed keyboard instrument. 
It has eleven letters and ends with
RD
.”

“Why don’t you just take out your phone and Google it?” I suggest.