Tracing Hearts (28 page)

By the end of the pot of coffee, it’s almost eleven o’clock. I yawn involuntarily.

“I should go. Maybe Henry’s waiting for me to leave, so he can come groveling back to you,” she says with a giggle.

“Yeah, maybe,” I reply, knowing full well that’s not going to happen. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“If you can still walk after all that make-up sex.” She smirks at me, and my mouth pops open.

“Shelby!” I say in shock, then giggle like a school girl. “See you later.” She leaves with a wave, and I shut and lock the door behind her. Leaning against it, I look around the large, empty space and sigh. An instant sorrow overtakes me, and I feel isolated and vulnerable. I decide a shower might do me some good, so I shuffle off to the bathroom.

The steam from the extremely hot water clears my stuffy sinuses but does nothing to clear my head. All thoughts remain on my runaway boy. As I exit and wrap a towel around myself, I notice the mirror, which has fogged. Sadly, I walk up to it, swipe my hand across, and stare at the pitiful creature who stares back at me. Her face is pale and lifeless, and her eyes are still red and puffy from her sorrow. I look down at the bottom corner, and with my index finger, I draw a little heart in the fog. The urge to cry returns, though it never really left, so I look away and hurriedly dress. My shoulders sag as I drag myself onto the couch. I don’t want to sleep in our bed alone, so I curl up, the fleece blanket Sebastian covered me with surrounds me, and I cry myself to sleep.

***

More than a week has passed, and there’s been no word from Sebastian. All hope of seeing him again fades with each sunset. I go about my days robotically. I’ve become a recluse; an island with no life inhabiting it. My will to survive remains, as I keep every door and window locked tightly. Thoughts of what to do next flood my mind. Should I just go back home to my dad and Toria? Would they be able to keep me safe? Or would I inevitably bring misfortune on them. No. I can’t go home. But, I can’t stay here either. With no life to speak of, and the Witness Protection Program footing the bill, how long will that last? Although, who’s to say that when the trial is over, Sebastian wouldn’t come looking for me. We could resume our normal lives as Sebastian and Julia, not Henry and Emily. Our happily ever after, which has been put on hold by some lunatic, could begin as soon as tomorrow. I’ll stay, even if it’s just to cling onto some tiny speck of hope.

I dress for the day. Shelby has invited me out to lunch. I was really reluctant to go. Feeling as if I have a target on my back doesn’t make for a comfortable, relaxing girls day out. However, I know I have to live a semi normal life if I’m going to get through this. I pull my hair up into a messy bun, try and disguise my dark circles with some cover up, and walk out the door.

“Hey, girl! You ready to go have some girl time?” Shelby says as she opens her front door and heads toward her car.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, opening my side and sitting in the passenger’s seat.

“Well, all right then. Let’s go.”

We end up dining at Tristina’s Treats in a small town named Largo. Shelby says it’s a quaint little eatery that the tourists haven’t found yet. We’re seated at a booth, when we give the waitress our drink order.

“So, what are you going to have?” I ask, hoping she can give me some direction as to what’s good here.

“I usually get a club sandwich, but today I feel like having breakfast. How about you?”

“Breakfast sounds good. I’m starving.”

“Well, I suppose you are. It looks as though you’ve lost five or ten pounds since I last saw you. Are you and Henry still on the outs?”

Oh no. Not this subject. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my voice.

“Everything’s fine with us. How’s the French toast here?” I ask, changing the subject at the first opportunity. Shelby puts her menu down, then reaches across the table and lowers mine. She raises one eyebrow in a, don’t-you-have-something-to-tell-me, kind of way. I sigh, unable to lie to her anymore. “Henry left me.”

She gasps. “Oh no.”

“Yeah.”

“When? Last week?” I nod sadly. “Oh, honey. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve been there for you a little more.” I just shrug.

“I don’t know. It was sort of private, I guess. I was embarrassed—I
am
embarrassed to admit that.”

“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed. It’s not your fault.”

A truer statement has never been said.

“I know. I guess I thought that he’d come back, before you and Jamie would find out. I’m just having a really hard time with it.”

She places her hand on top of mine and leans in closer.

“Do you need money? I know you don't work, and if you’re having financial difficulties—”

“God, no. I won't take your money. Besides, I’ve got plenty. It’s not a problem.” I look up at her sincere face and out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure. My eyes shift in that direction, but it’s gone before I can focus. My brow furrows.

“Well, that’s a good thing. I’d give you the shirt off my back you know,” she says, and it pulls my attention back to our conversation.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I know, Shelby, and I really appreciate that. I do.” I look for the figure again, but see nothing out of the ordinary. It must’ve been my imagination.

The rest of our time together, we make small talk, staying far away from the subject of Sebastian. But, the whole time, I keep thinking and looking around for anything strange. I’m not even sure exactly what I thought I saw, but my gut tells me something is amiss.

***

Night falls again, and our lunch date ended hours ago. I’m stepping out of the shower and into my bedroom, when I hear a noise outside. I freeze mid-step. I can feel my heart rate increase dramatically, as I assess my surroundings. The windows have remained locked the entire time since Sebastian left, and the only door I enter through is the front. Did I lock it? I wrack my brain trying to remember if I locked the damned door. I hear another noise, like the first, and it makes me jump. I duck down, out of instinct, and stay low. Reaching up, I flick off the bedroom light, then quietly, I gather up some clothes in a nearby drawer and struggle to put them on from my position on the floor. The way I see it, if someone’s out there, I’m going to make it as difficult as possible for them to see me. I crawl on all fours to the living room, attempting to look outside in the direction of the noise.

Slowly I stand, mindful that whoever this is could have a weapon. I peer through the translucent curtains to come face to face with a shadowy figure looking back at me. I scream loudly, and out of pure adrenaline, I sprint to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I wait, panting, for any noise indicating he’s gained entry. I didn’t get a chance to check that my front door is secure. I’m absolutely terrified as I look around for something to defend myself with. I grab the only thing I can find: a plunger. I sling it over my shoulder as if it were a baseball bat and I’m poised to strike, if need be. Then, a noise, much closer, throws me into fight or flight mode. He’s in the house. Oh, shit. He’s in my house. I hold back a whimper and get ready.

“Emily?” a voice calls out. It’s Jamie, I think. “Emily, are you here? It’s Jamie. Are you all right?”

Thank God, it’s Jamie. I carefully unlock the door and peek around the frame.

“Jamie?” I say timidly, and I see him look in my direction.

“Yeah. It’s me. Are you okay? I heard you scream,” he says as he walks toward me. I let out a long breath and walk out of my make-shift panic room.

“I’m fine, but someone was lurking outside my front window. Did you see him?”

He looks back at the window in question, then back at me.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “What did you see?”

“A man, about six feet tall. It was dark, so I didn’t see his features, but he was looking in my window.” Jamie walks over to my cell phone and dials a number. “What are you doing?”

“I’m calling 911.”

I grab it from his hand, before he can press the call button.

“No.”

“Why the hell not?” His expression is one of utter confusion.

“They wouldn’t be able to do anything anyway. Just let it go.”

“Emily. This needs to be reported. Give me the phone.” He extends his hand, but I refuse to give it to him. I’m afraid if I get the police involved, it could blow my cover. I have a fake ID, given to me by Mick, but I’m not sure if it’s good enough to fool the cops. “I’m going to call from my house then.” He begins to walk toward the door.

“Wait!” I say, and he stops. “Henry has a record.” The words rush out of me, and I watch as he turns around.

“For what?”

Think, Julia, think.

“Nothing too bad. Unpaid traffic tickets, a few moving violations. You know, petty stuff, but if they know he lives here, he could be arrested for them.” I say a silent apology for lying about Sebastian and tarnishing Jamie’s image of him.

“But, he’s not here now,” he points out.

“I know but—”

“I don’t care. I’m calling.” He resumes his mission.

“Jamie,
please!
” I beg. “Please don’t do this.” He stops again, puts one hand on his hip, the other rubs his forehead, and sighs in frustration. It’s then that I notice he’s wearing a holstered gun on his side. “Fine. But, if you hear anything else—”

“I’ll call them myself.”

“You’d better,” he scolds.

I smile reluctantly at him. “Thank you.”

He nods and exits, but not before he looks carefully around the front yard. I close and lock the door behind him, leaning against it, and I let my head fall into my hands.

Sebastian

I feel a hand on my shoulder and almost jump out of my skin. I turn around swinging, but my target ducks quickly out of the way.

“Jesus, Seb! What the hell?” Mick says as he straightens. He may be older, but his reflexes are still cat-like.

“Sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t know it was you. What are you doing hiding behind the bushes anyway?”

“I should be asking
you
that question,” he says.

“I tried, Mick, I really tried to stay away from her, but I can’t pretend the danger is over just because I’m not around her anymore.”

“You can say that again. Why don’t you just go back? She’ll understand.”

I shake my head. “No. Not after Peter.”

“We don't know what happened to Pete, son. It could’ve been a legitimate hit and run.”

“Mick, you and I both know that’s not true. Newton’s pockets are deep, and his reach is vast. His trolls are at the ready twenty-four, seven. Pete’s death wasn’t an accident.”

He sighs. “Maybe, but what matters now is your safety and the safety of your, pretend wife. She needs you, Seb. What are you gonna do about it?”

“I’m with her more than she knows,” I say, thinking about every night we’ve spent apart, when really, I’ve been just outside watching over her for the better part of every night.

“You don’t have to skulk around, you know. You asked for around the clock surveillance, and that’s what she’s getting. I promise you.” I look at him skeptically, but trust that he’s telling me the truth. He’s got connections that I could only dream about. “Go home, Seb. Go back to Julia, but if you still feel like you can’t, then go to your new hideout. It’s just as dangerous for you here, if not more.”

I know he’s right. I just can't seem to get my heart to agree. I miss her. I miss feeling her long, soft hair against my cheek as I snuggle up behind her. I miss her smell, her lips, the way she tastes. I miss pretending to be her husband, knowing deep down I wish it wasn’t just for show.

“I know. You’re right, I’m going. Just please keep your promise. Please, Mick, keep her safe.” I see his head nod, and he pats my shoulder. I then take off across the back yards and disappear into the night.

Mick

“Mick, it’s been more than two weeks. Do you have a line on where our boy is hiding?” Oren says smugly.

“I told you never to call me on this line,” I say, pissed off at the punk ass kid.

Oren tuts into the phone. “Come now, my friend, we had a deal. You deliver the boy, or I’ll grab the girl. One way or another, I’ll get him. Then, there’ll be no trial because their star witness will be dead.” Oren laughs, and it gives me a sick feeling. I hate working with this prick.

“I know exactly what deal we had. I always deliver. You’ll just have wait until I can find him.”

“Well, make it quick. I have no room for patience,” Oren snaps. “You have twenty-four hours. I’ll be in touch.” He hangs up, and suddenly I miss the old days when you could slam down the receiver and feel more satisfied. Sick bastard. And, here I am, helping him do his dirty work. I just hope some pretty powerful angels have Seb’s back. He’s gonna need it.

Julia

Two days have passed since my mysterious peeping Tom. I haven’t seen nor heard any more from him, but my subconscious is still on high alert. Shelby and I have plans again today. She’s taking me to Sand Key Beach for a day of sunning ourselves and ‘gawking at good looking men’, as she puts it. Afterward, we’ll hit the local bars for a dose of liquid de-stress. I don’t really feel like going out, but the foreboding feeling I get when I’m home alone drives me to spend as much time as I can in the presence of others.

The doorbell rings as I’m putting the finishing touches on my makeup. “Come in,” I say with my eyeliner pencil in my mouth. It chimes again. Ugh. I place the rest of my cosmetics into my bag, go to the door, and grab the handle. “You never ring the bell any other time, Shelby, why start now?” I say in jest as I open the door. Shelby and a well-dressed man stand at my door. Just as I’m about to ask who he is, an unconscious Shelby drops to the ground, right in front of me. I gasp in surprise, and the man swiftly steps over her and grabs me by the arms, effectively pushing me back inside my own house. I try to scream, but he holds a cloth over my face, until the world slowly fades to black.