“What if he knew?” I look at Tara again, eyes scanning the unresponsive face of the frightened mother who only wanted to protect her child. “What if he knew that Tara had evidence against him, so he put out a hit on her? Maybe he sent someone over to find whatever evidence she had hidden, and they ran into Tara, and things went bad. Maybe … maybe killing her was his intention all along.”
“She’s not dead,” says Jake, but the way he says it makes me think he just doesn’t know what else to say.
“Yet,” I correct him, and Jake sighs.
“I don’t like how obsessed you are with this,” he says, turning towards me to rest a hand on my upper arm. “I think this is dangerous, especially for you, and I’m worried about what will happen if Kasper Hill decides he’s tired of you nosing around.”
“Jesus, dude, you sound just like Ely.” I pull away from Jake and look back to the window, barely realizing that tears are pressing against the back of my eyelids, ready to push free. My head hurts. My heart hurts. Everything hurts.
“This is nasty business, James,” says Jake, reaching for me again. “You know there’s not a lot of shit I’m afraid of, okay, but Kasper Hill just so happens to be one of those things. If he is behind this, you can see for yourself just how dangerous and determined he could be.”
“And that makes it okay? As long as everyone is afraid of him, he’ll just keep doing what he does until someone else dies, right? The worst part of all of this is that now he has Maddy.” I cross my arms over my chest, trying to ward off the overflow of emotions that are ready to burst from my body.
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you implied.”
Ely comes up behind us, cutting the argument short, and helps me shrug on my jacket. “I’m going to drive you home, then I have to work for a few hours. Is that okay?”
“Of course.” I take the hand he offers me and then lean in to give Jake a side hug. Despite my annoyance with how things are playing out, I will never forget the kind of wonderful friends I have to back me.
“Drink some wine and take a nap,” Jake says with a wink. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
Ely, ever the gentleman, escorts me out to his SUV and helps me buckle in. I’m still terribly sore, and every muscle in my body feels like a jackhammer has been taken to it, shattering every bone and muscle until there’s nothing left of me but a puddle of putty.
“I thought you were taking me home,” I say after a bit, realizing that we’re headed in the opposite direction.
“I am. To my house,” Ely says, reaching for my hand. The words are simple, but hearing him call his house our home makes my limbs tingle with adoration.
“I can take care of myself, you know,” I tease, and Ely smiles at this.
“Clearly.”
“Hey. I’m usually the one doing the saving, not the damsel in distress,” I say, and Ely laughs even harder at this one.
“I don’t mind,” he promises. “I’ve been looking for my damsel for years now.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.” I rest my head against the back of the seat and close my eyes, still clutching Ely’s hand. We arrive at his house a few minutes later, and Ely leads me inside, straight to the couch, where he sits me down and goes to the bedroom for a blanket and pillow. Then he goes to the kitchen to pour me a glass of wine, handing it to me along with the remote.
“I feel like a sick child,” I say, trying to feign annoyance, but secretly I love it. I love being pampered by a man I seem to have completely and utterly fallen for. It’s been exhausting over the years to be the one there for everyone else, and the change is quite nice.
“You call me if you need anything at all,” Ely says, leaning down to rest his lips against my forehead. “I’ll leave work to come home.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m fine.”
“Promise me, Jami.”
“Fine.” I sigh dramatically and roll my eyes. “I’ll call you when I need help wiping my butt, okay?”
Ely laughs again. God, I love that laugh. I could listen to that laugh every day for the rest of my life and still not get enough of it.
Once he finally decides that I’m competent enough to leave by myself, I huddle down into the cushions of the couch and turn on Netflix to binge-watch some of my favorite shows. I must have been more tired than I originally felt because, after half an hour, I fell asleep and didn’t wake again until dusk.
I feel groggy when I wake, and I find myself drooling tastefully into the pillow beneath my head. My body feels even stiffer now than it did before, but I ignore the pain and head to the bathroom to take a shower, savoring the way the hot water feels against my brittle bones. By the time I’m dressed into a pair of cozy sweats and one of Ely’s tee-shirts, he’s coming through the door, and I can’t contain myself from throwing my arms around him and holding him. It’s getting more and more difficult to be away from him, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
“I brought dinner,” Ely says, holding up a bag of Chinese takeout. “It’s nothing special, but I figured neither you nor I wanted to cook tonight.”
“Smells delicious.” I take a seat at the dining room table as Ely dishes us some food. I watch him do this, taken by his movements, by the way his muscles flex and relax with each tiny movement, his short, dark hair sprinkled with silver, the five o'clock shadow sneaking its way onto his face.
