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Authors: Sherry Gammon

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Garen went crazy, swearing, jerking on the cuffs trying to break free from his table, spittle flying everywhere with each word. I walked to the door. The goliath sized guard standing there that I hadn’t seen before smiled wide and nodded.

I glanced back one last time at Garen as he wiped the spit off his mouth with his shoulder, his eyes still wild with rage. “P.S. You suck in bed.” As if I had anything to compare him to since he was the only man I’d ever been with. I wanted to rub a little salt in his open wounds. Immature? Probably, but I just didn’t care. “Of course, a pretty boy like you shouldn’t have a problem finding a little love in here. Maybe you can learn a few things. I mean, any port in a storm, right?” I smiled and waved my fingers goodbye as he went ballistic again. The guard opened the door and offered me a subtle fist bump, while one of the two holding Garen pulled out a Taser. The last thing I heard walking out the door was Garen screaming in pain. What a sweet sound.

As I strutted across the parking lot of the prison, the words “This Girl is on Fire,” from the Alicia Keys song popped into my head. That was exactly how I felt. On fire. In charge. Free! “And I’m not backing down.” I didn’t even care that it was snowing . . . again. A rush of empowerment surged through me. I never wanted it to end. I wanted to scream from the rooftops: ‘I’m back!’ I settled for singing the rest of
Girl on Fire
at the top of my lungs as I drove out of the lot.

Next on my list: Booker Gatto. I hadn’t made up my mind completely about what to do about him after talking with Cole, but I had decided a few things. I went to the office building and straight to Devin, the patent attorney on the third floor’s office. An older woman dressed in a pink floral shirt sat staring down at her laptop, while Devin, dressed in a full suit, leaned over her pointing at the keyboard.

“Mom,” he said, his voice heavy with exasperation. “This key is the control key. Remember c-t-r-l is short for control.”

“Yes, yes. That’s right. Sorry, son.” She reached up and patted his cheek.

“It’s okay, Mom.” He straightened and turned to me.

“Tess.” He stepped forward. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Hello, Devin. I’ve come to ask you if your job offer was legit.” I glanced at his mother to see if I’d spoken out of turn.

She jumped up first. “Yes. It is. I’m filling in until he can find a new girl.” She took my hand. “My, you’re a lovely thing. My name’s Millie, by the way. Are you married?”

“Mom,” Devin said, his face turning red.

“I’m curious is all, dear.
” She brushed her son’s protest aside with a wave of her hand. “Well?” she pressed.

“I’m single.” My answer received a large grin from her. Devin slapped his hand over his face.

“Let’s go into my office and talk, Tess, shall we?” He took my elbow and guided me through a second door, which he promptly closed behind me.

He agreed to match the salary that Booker paid me, and if I would start tomorrow, he’d offer his mother as a temporary secretary for Booker until he could hire a new one. He also offered to pay me to work an hour’s overtime each day for a couple weeks to train his mother. “Don’t want to leave Booker in a lurch,” he said. In my head I thought she’d need more than an hour a day training to function properly, but the idea of frustrating Booker helped me stay my tongue. He was about to get what he deserved.

 

Chapter 37

Booker

 

After a week of wallowing in self-pity, I hobbled to work, hoping that business would phase out the memories. I walked into my office, cane and all, to find an older woman in a blue floral print shirt sitting at Tess’s desk.

“Good morning, Mr. Gatto.” She held out her hand and shook mine. “We’ve met before.” My pinched brow encouraged her to explain more. “I’m Devin’s mom. The patent attorney on the third floor.”

“Yes. That’s right.” I smiled at the gray haired woman, still confused. “Where’s Tess?” I asked.

“Oh, dear. I assumed she spoke to you.” She wrung her age-spotted hands. “My son offered her a job and she took it. She asked me to fill in until you could hire a permanent replacement. She’s showed me how to fill in many of your forms, and if I get confused I just call her and she walks me through it. She’s an amazing girl.”

“Yes. She is.” I ground my teeth together. I so deserved this.

I hobbled into my office, closing the door behind me. I hadn’t thought about Tess quitting. It was probably for the best.

Only it didn’t feel that way. I sat on the corner of my desk, growing angrier by the minute, so much so, I now owed seventy-five cents to that stupid curse jar. I hobbled over and grabbed the jar. Instead of adding quarters, I threw the thing across the room, shattering it and a picture frame.

“Mature, Gatto, very mature.”

 

Chapter 38

Tess

 

Devin handed me an envelope. “Your first paycheck. You’ll note I’ve already given you a raise.” He winked. Devin loved to flirt. Not an overbearing,
everyone thinks I’m sexy
kind of flirt, but more of the nerdy un-suave kind, who stumbled over his lines. He tucked his hand in the pocket of his vest.

“You didn’t have to do that, Devin.” I took the check and slipped it into my purse.

“Yes, I do. You’ve gotten this place running smoothly in under a week. And you’ve done a great job training my mother.”

“She’s very sweet,” I said as Millie, his mom, walked in the door, laptop in hand, ready to go. She claimed to enjoy the lessons. I think what she enjoyed was expounding the qualities of her very available son to me.

“Sorry I’m a little late.” She smiled brightly, and gave Devin a peck on the cheek. “I made chicken noodle soup for dinner, dear. Your favorite. It’s in the crock pot on the counter, as usual.” With pink cheeks, Devin disappeared into his office.

“How are things going with Booker? Is he treating you well?”

“I’ve only worked with him a few days. He doesn’t say much, but he did break a jar that he keeps quarters in his first day back. He said he dropped it, but the picture frame on the wall was destroyed too, so I’m not sure what happened.” She frowned and lowered her voice. “He’s not a very happy camper. In fact, he’s rather grumpy. I hope he finds a new secretary soon.”

I pinched my lips together.
Good, serves him right
.

“He’s not like Devin, that’s for sure. My son is a good boy, don’t you think?” She put her laptop next to mine and opened it. A letter taped to the keyboard addressed to me fluttered out. “Oh, yes.
About this letter. Booker went home early. His leg was bothering him, and he told me to take a long lunch. I went for a stroll down by the Erie Canal. Have you ever been there in the winter?” I shook my head. Millie and her tangents. You’d ask her one question and somehow she twisted the conversation around to canning peaches. “It’s lovely. You really should go for a walk. Devin loves the canal. I’ll tell him to take you. Devin,” she called out, straightening her purple paisley dress.

“Wait. What does that have to do with this envelope addressed to me?” I removed it and turned it over, wondering
who it was from.

“Oh dear, lost my train of thought again.” She tapped her forehead with her fingers softly, which she did every time she forgot something. “After my walk I came back to the office. Well, you know how I keep
the door locked whenever Booker’s not there. It’s kind of scary being on the top floor all alone. I mean, I could scream for a week and no one would even hear me.”

“Yes, very scary. Now, how did you get this?” I asked, trying yet again to put her back on track.

“It came flying under the door. Whoever it was didn’t even knock. Of course maybe they assumed since it was after five we were already gone.” She hit the power key and sat back, waiting for her computer to boot up. I’d told her several times she didn’t have to power it all the way down each time she closed it, but she kept forgetting.

With time to kill as she tried remembering her password, I opened the letter, surprised to see
who it was from. I reread it three times, trying to get past the uncomfortable feeling it gave me. I reached for my phone, then changed my mind. I may have moved past Garen, but it’d be a while before the paranoia ended.
The letter means nothing. I’m overreacting
.

“I have a question about one of the court documents Booker wanted me to file today,” Millie said.

Crap.
“Hold on a second.” Unable to shake the feeling, I grabbed my new cell phone, another milestone to celebrate my breaking free from the past, and called Booker. I decided to tell him what the note said and he could do what he wanted with the information. The call went straight to voicemail.

I tucked the phone and the letter in my purse. Great. I’d have to drop it off on my way to Maggie’s. I hadn’t seen him since that horrible day at his house. Part of me was excited, just a little. A larger part hated the idea of seeing him again. Maybe I should just tape it to his door and ding-dong ditch him. I shook my head at the junior high prank. We were both adults. We could talk to each other without it being awkward.
Yeah, right
.

Millie babbled on about the court document she needed help with. It took her all of two minutes to swing the conversation around to Devin and his being a straight-A student all through college. I tried to concentrate, but my mind wouldn’t let the weird, cryptic letter go. I vacillated between telling myself I’d read too much into it, to feeling the need to go and show it to Booker sooner than later.

Sooner won. “Millie, can we do this tomorrow? I forgot about an important appointment I have at the . . . dentist.”

I grabbed my purse and coat, dashing out the door before she said a word. I jogged down the stairs, two at a time, and groaned when I saw the snow. “Why do I still live in this frozen wasteland?” I quickly scraped off my car while calling Booker one more time. Again, the call went straight to voicemail. Grumbling under my breath that I should let it go, I drove out of the parking lot toward Booker’s. Nik may be crazy, and a major drama queen, but she had it right. Loving Booker was an incurable disease.

 

Chapter 39

Booker

 

I dragged myself out of bed, not an easy task with a mind full of painkillers. I grabbed the bottle and flushed the rest down the toilet. I’d live with the pain instead of a foggy brain. I made a cup of my favorite hot chocolate and drank it way too quickly in an effort to wake myself.

“Six p.m.,” I complained, frowning at the clock. I’d slept the entire afternoon. Still needing to shake the foggy effects of the painkillers from my head, I dressed warmly and went outside to shovel today’s layer of snow off for the millionth time this season.

It took me thirty minutes to shovel half the driveway that normally took me ten. Canes and shovels don’t play well together. I knew I could call Seth or Cole. Either would have come in a heartbeat, but keeping busy meant no time to think about Tess. I planted the shovel in a snow bank next to my house near the front door and hobbled to the shed for the snow blower. I had no idea if I had the strength to handle it, but I was about to find out.

Just removing the machine from the shed turned into a joke. I huffed and puffed like an old man. I stopped to wipe the sweat from my face.
Swallow your pride and call Seth
.

“Hi, Bookie.” Nik’s voice startled me.

I reached out for the side of the shed to steady myself. I didn’t want to see her right now. Or ever, really. Without looking up, I said, “I thought you were going to New York. I know you cashed the check.” She cashed it the day I gave it to her. Same ol’ Nik. Couldn’t handle money.

“I made it all the way to New York, even stayed a few days before coming back.” She sighed. “I’ve made a life changing decision.”

“What are you talking about?” I turned to her. She stood ten feet from me, dressed in an expensive looking fur jacket and furry boats. Only her outfit didn’t have my attention. The pink gun she pointed straight at me did.
Why is my life full of crazy people
?

“If I can’t have you, nobody can.” She lifted the gun higher. “Give me your gun. In case I miss the first time. I still remember how fast you can draw that thing.”

“I didn’t wear the gun to shovel my driveway, Nickel.” I used my pet name for her, hoping to calm her down. The girl had irrational thinking down to a science.

She stomped her foot. “Now you call me Nickel? I’ve been asking you since I got out of jail to call me Nickel and you wait until I have a gun pointed on you to do it.”

I decided to try charm next, even if it meant throwing my species under the bus and surrendering my man card. “Nickel, I’m a guy. Put us all in one room and we still only have half a brain between us.” I smiled widely. “Come on. Let’s go inside where it’s warmer. I’ll make you some of that hot chocolate you like.”

“Give me your gun.” She pulled back the hammer on hers to emphasize she meant business. She was the second person in less than a month to do that to me. Anger boiled inside as I unstrapped the gun. I kicked it into a snow bank.

Big mistake. Nik fired her gun. Luckily, she missed. However, in my rush to get away from her, I stepped back with my bad leg—well, the worse of the two since neither was in great shape—and fell into a snow bank, opposite my gun.

“I loved you, Bookie. I’m a changed woman. I would have been a good wife.” She wiped away tears with her opposite hand. The gun stayed shakily on me.

“Nik, I’m sorry. Really I am. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but you broke my trust. I’m having a hard time overlooking that, especially with a gun pointed at me.” I worked my way to a sitting position.

“It doesn’t matter now.” She tugged her hat and scarf off and tossed them to the ground as she unbuttoned her coat.

“Why are you taking off your coat?” I asked as she shrugged the coat down each arm and tossed it next to the gloves, all the while keeping her eyes and the gun trained on me.

“My sister loves the coat. I don’t want to get blood on it.”

I slapped my hand over my face. “Are you kidding me? Nik, please. Let’s go inside and talk about this. What do you say?”

Ignoring my question, she laid out her
plan, just like the nut jobs in the movies always did before they killed someone. “I’ll shoot you first, then I’ll kill myself. We’re going to die together. Star-crossed lovers. Just like Romeo and Juliet.”

“Nik! That’s crazy. We’re not Romeo and Juliet. We’re not star-crossed lovers.”
I’m a dead man. I’m not going to see Tess ever again
.

“In my mind, we are.” She raised the gun just as something silver flashed above her head. Nik fell to the ground. Her gun slid across the icy patio toward me. Behind her stood Tess with my now dented snow shovel in her hand.

“Tess, you do know that a concealed weapon permit doesn’t cover shovels, right?”

She rolled her eyes at my comment and tossed the shovel aside. I scrambled, with considerable effort, first for my gun, then for my cane. Nik didn’t move. She was out cold.

“She left this note at the office for me, apologizing for what she was about to do,” Tess said, handing me an envelope addressed to her in Nik’s writing. “She thought the office was closed for the night. Lucky for you Millie didn’t leave on time.”

“Very lucky. Thank you for saving my life.” I picked up Nik’s gun and tucked it into my calf holster.

“I guess that makes us even,” she said, with palpable anger in her voice. “And not that I’m not grateful, but I never asked you to save my life. I had my gun pointed at Garen’s heart and would have killed him if you hadn’t gone all super hero on me and started firing your gun. FYI: If I’d shot him, he’d be six feet in the ground right now, not in prison causing everyone trouble.”

She turned, pulled out a . . .
cell phone
? and called for the police and an ambulance as she walked down my half-shoveled driveway looking so freaking sexy in her black knee high boots, I almost called her back.

Instead, I opened the envelope, removed the letter, and read it while waiting for the police.

Tess,

I’m writing you this because you of all people know how I feel. Like I said when I dropped by the office a few weeks ago, loving Booker is like a disease, an incurable disease. And you’re
right, he’ll never choose me. He’s moved on.

I’ve tried to move on also, but I can’t. He’s in my every waking thought. He’s even in my dreams. Booker’s my Romeo, and I’m his Juliet. And I don’t want to move on. I want him. I’m very sorry, and I hope you’ll someday understand and maybe forgive me for what I have to do. You were so sweet to me the other
night, I felt I owed you this note.

Best wishes,

Nik

“What did I ever see in this woman?” I stuffed the letter back in the envelope and looked at Nik. “Oh yeah, short skirts, smoldering eyes, and a great kisser.” I shook my head. “Lesson learned. Find a woman with substance.” I immediately thought of Tess.
A woman with substance and so much more. “I’m an idiot.”

 

***

 

Two weeks after the Nikkolynn incident, she was charged with attempted murder and admitted to a psychiatric hospital for evaluation, after getting twenty-seven stitches in her head. I could get around a little better with my cane, and for short walks I didn’t need it at all.

I ached for Tess. Seth and Cole tried to distract me by taking me bowling and skeet shooting. I will admit, watching clumsy Cole try and shoot skeet made me laugh quite a bit—and fear for my life not a little.

Tonight we were going to a new action movie that neither Lilah nor Magpie wanted to see. “We’re in the family room, Garfield,” Maggie called as I came in. I set my cane on the counter and walked into the adjoining family room unassisted. I was met with applause. I bowed.

Sofia rushed me, grabbing my hand. “Hurray, Uncle Book. No more cane.” I quickly sat in a nearby chair to keep from falling over.
Still a work in progress.

“What are you girls up to while we’re gone tonight?” I asked. Lilah signaled for Sofia to come change into her pink princess jammies.

“Tess’s coming over and we’re watching a bunch of chick flicks.” Magpie pointed to a pile of DVD’s on the mantel.

“Tess is coming over? When?” I asked coolly.

“Any minute.” Lilah smoothed the static electricity out of Sofia’s hair, or she tried to. “Tess is leaving for San Diego. We’re having a little farewell party for her, just us girls.”

My heart leapt. “Tess is leaving?

“Yup. I thought you should know,” she said boldly. “Maybe now you’ll pull your head out and beg her on bended knee to forgive you for being an idiot. Then you can beg her to marry you before she wises up. Maybe, if you’re lucky, Tess will take you back.”

“Lilah, it’s complicated,” I said.

“It’s complicated? Cole forgave me for lying to everyone. That was complicated, Booker,” she said, waving a hand in the air, something she did when she got excited, or angry, apparently. “What you have is a person, a really great person who, for some unknown reason, loves you. And you toss her aside because you want an uncomplicated life.” She grabbed Sofia’s hand. “If you want an uncomplicated life, join a monastery.” Leave it to Lilah to not sugarcoat it. “Tell Uncle Book goodnight, sweetheart.”

Sofia climbed on my lap. “I’ll marry you, Uncle Book.” She patted my cheeks.

“I’m too old for you, angel.” I gave her a kiss on the head and a hug.

“When I get bigger we can get married. How about when I’m ten?”

“Yeah, that won’t land me in jail,” I muttered. Seth and Mags laughed.

“You won’t be in jail,” Cole said, scooping Sofia up onto his shoulders and heading up the stairs with Lilah. “Because I’d kill you first.”

“When’s Tess leaving?” I asked Magpie.

“Tuesday morning.” Mags squeezed my hand. “She said there’s nothing to keep her here now and she’s sick of the snow.”

Seth sat on the couch and Maggie joined him. “Did you hear the good news about Jack Mahoney?” he asked. I shook my head. Jack was the lone survivor in a shootout that killed three of my men this past summer in an undercover operation. Another reason I left the MET. “I had lunch with him yesterday. He got a job offer to be a deputy sheriff in Sugar Maple, West Virginia. That’s where he’s originally from. He still has a few months of rehab, but he’s thinking about taking the job.”

“Good for him. Take it and get out. Move to a nice, quiet little town. Away from all the death and decay around here,” I grumbled.

“Come on, Booker. There’s no such place anymore. Life’s a crapshoot. Sometimes you win . . . other times, not so much.” He sat back. “Tell me. What’s really going on inside that head of yours?”

I drew in a long deep breath and began spilling my innermost thoughts like a schoolgirl at a pajama party. Yeah, real dignified of me. “I can’t take it. I keep seeing her face splattered with blood and . . .”

“You’re sixteen, watching your mother and sister all over again.” Seth finished my sentence. “It’s over, Booker. Not to sound heartless, but you need to bury them, emotionally, stop carrying them around. You know your mother would say I’m right if she were here, as would your father.”

“You don’t know what all happened to them,” I said. “I can’t forget.”

“I do know. I overheard my dad talking about it with my mom right before they died,” he said gently. “It made me sick to know you had to witness that.”

“You never told me.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to know,” he said simply. “But now it’s time to let it all go. Tess is a great girl. You’d be a fool to let her slip away.” He laced his hands through Maggie’s hair.

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to risk losing her like that. It’s better I let her go, safe and alive. I seem to be a magnet for horrific deaths.” I rubbed at the ache in my leg.

“So you think if she’s not here and she dies, you’ll be okay?” Mags asked. “Or what about one of us? There are no guarantees something tragic won’t happen to us. Are you going to cut us out of your life, too?”

I leaned back in the chair and rubbed my jaw. She just didn’t get it.

“I know you think I don’t understand, but you’re wrong.” She wrapped her hands around Seth’s. “Remember, I spent my first eighteen years unloved, not knowing what it meant or how it felt. And I can tell you that if Seth were to die tomorrow, as devastated as I’d be, I wouldn’t regret having loved him. Loving and being loved is worth the pain. Not being loved is the real tragedy, Booker.” Seth squeezed her hand.

I dipped my head and wiped my eyes. Maggie came over next to me and gave me a hug. “You bark like a junkyard dog sometimes, but you’re really just a big old pussycat.”

I chuckled. “You’re never going to stop with the cat jokes, are you?”

“Not as long as there’s breath left in my body,” she vowed,
then added bluntly, “You’re an idiot if you don’t stop her. You of all people know how hard it is to find real love. Tess is worth the risk. Love is always worth the risk.”

Seth stood and helped me out of the chair, embracing me as we stood. “Think about what we said.” I nodded. “Okay, enough crying. Let’s go watch people blow things up and boost our testosterone levels. What do you say?”

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