The Game Has Changed (15 page)

“Alive, yes!” George agonized. “But very safe?
I won't say that until she's back home with us.”

With that said, he slammed the receiver into
its cradle. He rubbed his hands across his face with despair.
Jaime’s disappearance was taking its toll on his household. Each
and every one of them felt the strains of the situation they now
found themselves in.

He prayed fervently that the FBI would bring
her home in one piece, each and every day. Yet the longer they took
in doing so, the harder it was in believing their every word. Deep
inside, he felt that they weren’t doing everything possible in
trying to bring her home. With every minute that passed, his
worries deepened and he began to lose faith in his hopes of ever
seeing his beloved niece ever again. Time would tell if he and the
rest of his family would get the chance to have her within their
loving arms once more.

***

Jaime felt saddened and lethargic as twilight
fell over the open road before them. Everything had changed so
drastically within the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday, she had
felt on top of the world after the attack because of Evan's
chivalrous rescue. They had shopped together and laughed and seemed
as if they were truly becoming close.

Now, everything had changed between them. They
were barely speaking to one another and when they did speak, it was
accusatory, inflammatory, and not pleasant, in the least. She was
also on the verge of tears at every given moment. Part of her
wished for them to return to where they’d been before. Yet she knew
that with the way things were now, it might not be
likely.

As they silently entered their motel room early
that evening, no words passed between them. Jaime noted the fact
that there were now two full beds instead of just one within the
room and felt a deep, sickening sadness within the pit of her
stomach. She couldn’t help but wonder if Evan had specifically
requested the separate beds this time. She could not fathom as to
why the thought made her feel so sad.

She claimed the bed furthest away from the door
without asking him if he wanted it. Part of her sensed that he
would want the one closer to the door as he’d always slept on the
side of the bed facing it on previous occasions. His doing so gave
them both the illusion that he was barricading the door in case she
had any designs on attempting an escape. Yet she knew he wasn't
worrying about that anymore. In fact, he was probably hoping she
would just skip out on him in the middle of the night.

She pulled the framed picture of her father and
herself out of her backpack, staring at it for a long moment to see
if she could glean any comfort from it. Her depression felt so deep
that she could barely sense the light at the end of the tunnel. Her
comfort felt elusive and she felt that it just wasn't lighting her
way any longer.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight
of something pushed way down underneath her books within her
backpack. Her heart pulsed as she realized she’d found something
she’d forgotten about completely, her cell phone. She drew it
forth, staring at it with amazement.

It had been turned off all along. All this
time, she could have called someone. All this time, she might have
had a way out. Ironically, she hadn’t considered the possibility of
doing so. Not even on day one. The thought had never crossed her
mind at all.

Why?
After staring at
it for several minutes, she sighed with sorrow and crammed it deep
into her backpack once more in order to keep Evan from seeing it.
Despite everything that happened, both the good and the bad, she
didn't want to be found. At least, not yet, anyway.

***

As per his usual routine, Evan checked the
safety on his pistol, stowed it away in a bedside drawer, and
pulled a pack of cigarettes from his inside jacket pocket. He
exchanged a brief look with Jaime and said nothing as he hurried
outside to have his smoke. He left her alone as she sat upon the
second bed's edge, never knowing that she was feeling a tad
despondent.

Once outside in the cool air, he paced back and
forth as he puffed on the cigarette and realized that he was
smoking more so than usual after he had promised himself before
this whole adventure began that he would really attempt to quit.
Yet, he surmised, that it wasn't exactly a good time to break bad
habits in the middle of an extremely stressful ordeal like
this.

He found that his companion wasn't making his
stress any more tolerable as she was making things even more
difficult at every turn. It wasn't even her fault, really. It was
most certainly all of his, but the guilt she caused him was
torturous.

In some ways, she was totally winning 'the
game’, he realized. The ball was in her court. Yet he couldn't
abandon her. Nor could he force her to get on an airplane and get
out of his life. It all came down to what she wanted. She was in
charge of him completely and she didn’t even know it. That fact,
unfortunately, was one that he would never admit to her.

CHAPTER 17

When Evan returned to the room after going
through three cigarettes, he found a very red-eyed Jaime sitting at
the head of the farthest bed. He slipped his leather jacket off,
set it on the back of a chair, and sat down upon the edge of the
closest bed. He faced her, regarding her closely in hopes of
offering her a bit of comfort as she held the photograph within her
hands.

“Missing him?” he asked tenderly.

She rubbed her wet cheeks with the edge of her
shirt sleeve, surprising him when she shook her head.

“Then why are you so sad?”

Jaime wasn't sure she wanted to admit the real
reason behind her melancholy. He would make her feel even worse if
she did. Of that, she was quite certain. He would make an allusion
to the fact that she was a starry-eyed little girl with a crush on
him in order to get whatever point he wanted to make across. She
knew that he had no intention of feeling the same way toward her.
Deep inside, she knew she needed to get over it and move on. She
wouldn’t give him the satisfaction once again.

“I don't know,” she said testily and sniffed
back her tears. “I just feel sad, that's all.”

“Is it that time of month for you, maybe?” he
prodded. “Should we have bought some Midol or something at the last
market? I can run out and get you some now if you need
it.”

“No, it's not!” she squealed, taking
offense.

Evan sighed with a slight exasperation. “I
really don't know what to do anymore, Jaime,” he admitted sadly. “I
don't know how to make you happy, short of rescuing you from an
assault. And seeing as how that's not likely to happen every day,
you need to tell me exactly what you want.” He stared at her with
wide, beseeching eyes, but there was a hint of a smile behind
them.

She gazed back at him shyly, a quizzical
expression spreading across her face.

He grinned. “I'm inherently pretty stupid. Or
maybe it's a male thing. I can't read your mind, my love. You have
to spell it out for me quite clearly or I'll never get
it.”

Although he was stretching the truth quite a
bit, he knew it would be what she wanted to hear. Jaime couldn't
help herself. She smiled.

“There we go,” he said with praise, laughing
softly. “I think I get it now. You wanted me to admit how stupid I
am.”

A bashful giggle burst from her lips. “No,
that's not it.”

“Well, I am a bit mental, but I think that has
something to do with all these bashes to the head I've had.” He
pointed to his still bruised nose and the blood-tinged scar upon
his forehead. “So, will you spell it out for me,
Sweetheart?”

Jaime shrugged timidly. “I just . .
.”

He nodded with encouragement, resting his hands
upon his thighs.

“I don't want us to be enemies,” she said, her
voice barely a whisper. She was unsure if she really wanted him to
know how she was feeling. “I don't want us to be so hurtful to each
other, either.”

“I know, Luv. I didn't really like it either,
the not talking to you.”

“I understand that you have to go and do what
you did, sometimes. I also realize that I'm not the easiest person
to live with. You probably needed a break from me,” Jaime admitted.
“You have every right to go out and have women and drink if you
need to. You're not really my babysitter.”

“What do you mean you're not the easiest person
to live with?”

She shrugged. “Exactly that. Even my dad used
to say that I'm a spoiled brat.”

“Wow,” he said with amazement. “I certainly
never got that impression from you.”

“You're just saying that. Even I know it's
obvious that I'm spoiled.”

“What exactly,” he began slowly, teasingly,
“have you done that's made everyone believe you’re spoiled? I
personally can't think of a single thing.”

“
I just . . . well, I never seem to
be happy. Even when he was still alive, I was always kind of, you
know, just always searching for more.”

“Can you tell me about him?” Evan offered
kindly.

She laughed lightly. “I shouldn't, seeing as
how you never seem to want to tell me anything about
yourself.”

Evan's brow furrowed slightly as his eyes
widened. “Are you serious? Just this morning I told you about my
secret birthmark, didn't I? Hardly anyone knows about that except
my mum.”

“Hardly anyone? Your hundred lovers do, don't
forget.” A pleased giggle escaped her.

He laughed, too. She was always proud of the
fact that she could elicit a laugh from him. “If you're meaning why
I'm on the run,” he sighed, brushing his hand through his shiny
brown hair. “I feel like I'll tell you soon, but when the time is
right. Rest assured, I will tell you.”

She nodded and accepted his answer. “My dad was
a little wild,” she mused.

She dove into her memories of her father as she
decided that she could confide in him. Why she felt that way, she
wasn't sure. It was more that she wanted to confide in him. Whether
she really should have or not was a totally different
matter.

“I loved him like crazy,” she sighed. “But he
certainly wasn't the ideal father.”

“Why's that, Luv?”

“He was gone for most of my life.”

“Gone?” Evan asked.

“He had two jobs,” she explained. “He loved me
so much and wanted what he thought was the best for me. So he
worked extra hard to make sure we had enough money to achieve that
goal. What he didn't know, was that I would've rather been a pauper
if it had kept him home with me all the time. I sometimes feel like
I hardly knew him.”

Evan nodded with pity for her, but said
nothing. He realized, then, that listening was all she needed from
him, for the moment.

“I was all by myself most of the
time.”

“So you know what loneliness feels like,” he
observed.

She nodded. “Yes. I suppose I shouldn't feel
scared when you leave me alone. I should be pretty used to it by
now. But the thing is, even then, I never got used to
it.”

She stared at him as he lowered his head. “I
sense you've never been particularly lonely,” she
proffered.

He looked up again with a melancholy smile upon
his lips. “Not really. I had two parents and five siblings
throughout most of my years growing up in London. They were
constantly around, driving me mad.”

She laughed softly.

“Totally opposite situation, ours is,” he
said.

“Can you tell me more about your life?” she
asked.

“You really want to know?”

“I really would.”

“I grew up in St. John's Wood in the
North-Western part of London. Very close to a lovely park named
Regent's Park. The zoo is there. I loved the park and the zoo when
I was a kid,” he remembered fondly.

Jaime found herself smiling, too, throughout
his recollections.

“I was the youngest of six kids, all girls
except me,” he laughed. “At first, my parents were relieved that
they finally had a little boy. That is, until I became the devil's
child.”

“You were naughty?”

“Yeah, but I think being the youngest made me a
little wilder, because they let me get away with a hell of a
lot.”

Happiness consumed her. She felt so much better
now that he was finally opening up to her. “What sort of things did
you do?”

He shrugged with embarrassment. “The sorts of
things all rotten little boys do, breaking windows, stealing . . .
lots of horrid stuff.”

Her eyes widened with surprise.

He nodded. “Got thrown in juvenile a couple
times as a teenager. But I turned myself around and got into
University. Then four years ago, I went to California and I've been
there ever since.”

“And now you're in trouble again,” she reminded
him, but then wished she hadn't said it.

“Yeah, well,” he sighed, brushing his hair back
from his forehead again. “Story of my life, I guess.”