Running Home to You (The Running Series) (54 page)

“Do you want to go look around?” Evan asks.  I shrug my shoulders, again torn with indecisiveness.

“I see the interior designer’s car is here,” Adam adds.  “I could introduce you if you like.”

Reluctantly, I accept the offer and the three of us trudge wearily towards the house.  Evan opens the door, which is charred and burned.

The moment I see the devastation, I’m immediately regretting my decision.  The ceilings are soot-filled, completely black and buckled.  As bad as things look, the smell is even worse.  Any sense can trigger a memory, an image, a sound, a taste, but the most powerful trigger for me is smell.  Taking in the smell of smoke and ash transports me right back to the night of the fire.  My heart speeds up and it’s difficult for me to calm myself down.  Evan senses my discomfort and puts a tender arm around me.  Its calming effect is immediate.

We make our way to the bedroom where Evan and I collect a few personal items like wallets and jewelry.  Nearly everything in this room will need to be replaced, hopelessly enveloped in the pungent stench of smoke and fire.

As we make our way around the home, a young woman in her early thirties approaches.  Her skin is a beautiful dark-tone and her hair is long and straight.  She has a bright engaging smile and she’s full of energy.  Adam introduces her as Tanya and I immediately like her. 

“So, I finally get to meet the woman who captured the heart of my favorite client.”  She puts her hand out and we shake hands.  She’s got a confident handshake.  “So tell me, Ms. Fletcher, what do you have in mind?”

“I loved everything about the house.  It’s the place where Evan and I met and fell in love.  I really don’t want to make any major changes.  Maybe just a few small touches to show that a woman lives here, too?”

“Okay, that’s easy enough to do.  We’ll stick with the plan on the major pieces and add a few accent pieces and artwork to soften the edges.  How does that sound?” I’m so glad she gets me.

“Perfect.  There is one change I’d like to make outside to the deck if it’s not too much trouble,” I ask.

“Oh, good, a challenge.  I love a design challenge.  What do you have in mind?” Tanya asks.

“I’ve always wanted to have a hot tub spa.  You know, a Jacuzzi.  Now that Evan’s playing in more games, I think it would really help his sore muscles.  Besides,” I squeeze his hand, “it’s very romantic.”  I turn to Evan to seek his approval.  “What do you say, chief?”

“I think if we’re going to have a hot tub on the deck, you better design some sort of privacy enclosure because I can think of a dozen things I’d like to do in my new hot tub, and none of them are for public viewing.”

As we’re pulling away, I find myself smiling.  I’m glad I found the courage to go in.

A
dam pulls into the circular driveway of a beautiful Craftsman style home.  There is a two-car garage on the side of the house with my Kia parked in the driveway. He hands Evan the keys and helps carry my bags inside.  After placing them on the floor in the foyer, he gives me a hug, Evan gets a handshake, and off he goes.  For the first time in nearly a week, Evan and I are alone.  No nosy (but well-meaning) nurses.  No visitors.  Just us.

Evan brings my bags to the master bedroom and shows me around.  There’s a sliding glass door leading from the bedroom directly onto the veranda.  It’s been a long day and we’re both exhausted.  At the beach, we only got the see the sunrise.  Here, on the river, we get to see the sunset.  Evan leaves me to enjoy the view as he goes in to get us drinks.  He returns with two tall glasses of iced tea with fresh lemon.

As we sit together in quiet solitude, I ask, “Evan, can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he replies.

“Can you tell me what happened?  I think I’m ready to hear it now.” 

“Are you sure?  There’s no rush.  We have plenty of time,” he reminds me.

“I know, but only having part of the story is making me crazy.  There are so many things that I don’t understand.”

“Okay, but if it becomes too much, just tell me to stop.”

Evan tells the parts of the story that I missed.

“Adam was in the car, on his way to our house to drop off the dissolution papers when the alarm company called.  He was only a minute from the house when the call came in.  At first, he thought no one was home.  The entire perimeter of the house was ablaze, including the roof.  He took a quick scan of the property as he reported back to the agent.  He was getting back into his car to move it away, creating room for the fire trucks when you decided to break the picture window in front of the house.  If you hadn’t gotten his attention, he would have driven away, never knowing that you were there.”

The full effect of that statement sinks in.  Someone was watching over me.  There is no other explanation. 

“Did something explode?” I ask, recalling the explosion and sparks that prompted my decision to escape.

“Yes, that was the propane tank on the grill.  They found it in the neighbor’s yard the next morning,” Evan explains.

“Evan, do you think it was an accident?” I ask.  “It doesn’t sound like it was.”

Evan doesn’t answer right away.  “It was deliberately set,” he admits.

“Are you sure?”

“The fire chief knew immediately that an accelerant was used.  The treated wood of the deck and the landscaping bushes should not have gone up as quickly and fiercely as they did.”

“Do they have any leads?” I ask, curious to know who would do this and why.

“We have more than leads, Juliette, we have video.  The surveillance camera set up near the garage points directly towards the front door recorded the entire event.  Are you sure you want to hear more?” Evan checks.  I nod, so he continues.

“First thing Saturday morning, the Fire Marshal arrived to start his part of the investigation.  I refused to leave the hospital and Adam refused to leave, too.  The hospital staff was kind enough to let us use one of their conference rooms.  The commander brought his laptop to take notes and Adam was able to remotely login to download the footage.”

“What did you see?”

“At exactly 8 P.M., we recorded a man dousing every inch of the area surrounding the house in gasoline.  The arsonist was approximately thirty years old, dark spiky hair, and a tattoo sleeve on his right arm.”

I look up at him in complete disbelief, “Ryker?”

Evan confirms my suspicion.  “Ryker Donovan almost killed you, Juliette.”  He closes his eyes and swallows hard.  “And it’s all my fault.”

So many thoughts swirl in my mind, creating a confusing cocktail of emotions.  Anger, fear, regret, and self-doubt ebb and flow.  How could I have been so easily fooled?  I brought him into our fold and welcomed him with open arms.  And yet, this man that I trusted so easily turned on us and brought his wrath down upon us. 

“Where is Ryker now?” I ask.  “Is he in jail, where he belongs?”

“No, he’s out there somewhere.  And if I ever see his face, so help me, God ...”

“What do you mean, ‘he’s out there somewhere’?”

“He saw the fire on the news.  That’s when he found out you were trapped inside.  He sent Emmy a text message asking if you were okay and telling her that he had to leave town.  He told Emmy to tell you he was sorry.  We tried to get a hold of him, but he got rid of the phone.  He took off.  His apartment is empty, completely cleared out.  He’s got contacts from the army all over the place, Jette.  He could be anywhere.”

“Should I be scared?” I ask.

“The only thing you need to fear is what I might do if I ever get close enough to put my hands on him,” Evan snarls.

Keep Your Eye on the Ball

I
wake early before the alarm.  I feel both comfort and confusion as my fuzzy brain wakes from the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in a week.  This place is unfamiliar to me, yet the scruffy looking jock in bed next to me is not.  His heavy arm is wrapped firmly around my middle, and his large muscled leg is tangled with mine.  I move and fidget, trying to find a cool spot without losing the closeness that I require. 

“Good morning,” Evan hums in my ear.

“Morning,” I answer, snuggling deeper into his arms.

“Sleep well?” he asks, running his fingers through my hair.

“Like a baby.”  He kisses my temple, and we just lie here in each other’s arms until the alarm goes off. 

We do our best to keep our old routine in this new space.  Evan showers while I make coffee.  The refrigerator is full, no doubt thanks to Evan’s mother and sister.  It’s the exact sort of thing they would do.  I locate some fresh fruit and yogurt and place them on the table.  Then I busy myself making Evan his special protein drink.  He no longer drinks anything of the sort at the stadium.  If it’s not sealed, he won’t have it.

When Evan emerges freshly showered, shaved, and dressed, I greet him with a big hug and kiss.  But when I bury my face in his chest, I notice immediately how different he smells.  I detect the sweet sugary scent of flowers and vanilla.  His shampoo, body wash, and shaving cream haven’t been replaced and he’s using mine.  I make a mental note to head straight to the store today to replace his toiletries.

At six o’clock sharp, he kisses me good-bye and climbs into his Porsche to make the drive down to the stadium.  He’s got a double practice today.  The game is in two days and there will be no practice tomorrow, just team meetings and planning.

After breakfast, I spend some time trying to fit my life into my new surroundings.  I carefully hang up the clothes that Reese brought me and fold the clothes from Camilla.  I step back and look at my pathetically empty closet.  Evan has exactly three items hanging, and I have only a few more than that.

This is the second time since I’ve known Evan that I’ve had to completely replace my wardrobe.  Everything happens in threes, so I try to guess what the next occasion will be.  First we had a lunatic ex-girlfriend go on a slashing spree.  Second we had a disgruntled employee turn into a firebug.  What’s next?  Wild animal attack?  Alien abduction?  Hopefully none of the above.

I choose a few dresser drawers to start unpacking Emmy’s donation and my face turns pink with embarrassment.  There are thongs galore, but not a single pair of panties.  The bag is filled with push-up padded bras and lingerie that leaves nothing to the imagination.  Last night, I slept in a t-shirt and shorts, but that won’t last long.  Since I’m going to be out shopping for Evan today, I may as well pick up a few things for myself, too.

By ten o’clock, Auggie is knocking on my door, bringing with him the final puzzle piece to make this house a home – Maddy.  She comes barreling towards me and I brace myself for the impact.  After she’s done reacquainting herself, I think I need another shower to clean off all the slobber.  Her little nub of a tail is wagging madly as she investigates her new surroundings.  Fortunately, the yard is fenced and we can let her run rampant.  I just hope she doesn’t decide to go for a swim in the river.

Auggie is fairly familiar with this house since he’s been showing it as a rental property for a few weeks now.  Very few renters can afford this type of a house and I’m grateful for it. He shows me how to work the thermostat, set the alarms, and even work the ovens.  I’m in my own personal heaven when I see that the kitchen has two ovens, a warming tray, a sub-zero refrigerator and a wet bar.  While we’re here, we can throw some awesome parties.

There are bouquets of flowers everywhere.  My mother made sure they were brought here from my hospital room for me to enjoy.  My favorite is the new arrangement of bright white gardenias, the ones Evan picked out for me.  These are my promise flowers.  Evan gave them to me when he proposed and they will be the ones I carry with me when I become his wife.

There are more bedrooms upstairs and a full basement below.  By some work of magic, Auggie managed to find us a rental property that has a home gym.  It’s not quite the same standard of equipment Evan has, but it’s all in working condition and ready for use. 

Just outside the home gym is the entrance to the back yard where there is some sort of a hot tub.  It’s considerably larger than any Jacuzzi I’ve ever seen, but it’s much too small to be a pool.  Auggie and I puzzle over it for a few, and we settle on the moniker, Pacuzzi – half pool, half Jacuzzi.