Rundown (Curveball Book 2) (34 page)

Sweaty
and sore, I make my way to the kitchen a mere two and a half hours
later.  I grab a glass of water and notice a brown paper bag on
the counter as Everett walks in.

“
What’s
that?” I ask.

“
Spencer
said Breanne needed comfort food on the way back from the field last
night.”

Curious,
I peek inside.  Four jars of peach cobbler flavored baby food
and frozen pizza that’s thawed to room temperature.  “She
didn’t touch it.”

“
Guess
she changed her mind.”

“
Has
she gotten up?” 

“
Not
yet.  Want to talk about what happened?” Everett asks.

“
Not
really.”  Checking on her crosses my mind but ultimately I
decide that if she were ready to talk she’d let me know.

“
Patterson
called me back while you were working out,” Everett says. 
“The case has officially been handed over to the CIA.  I’ll
continue to provide protection for you until the situation’s
resolved; however, my orders now come from Mark.”

“
Why?”

“
I’m
told we’ll find out this afternoon.  If I had to guess I’d
bet the CIA is responsible for what happened at your sister’s
house.  They’d have access to the type of drug we were
injected with and it makes sense that they’d patch me up.  They
wanted information, not to harm us.  Anyway, we need to meet
with Mark and Spencer at 2:30 this afternoon.”

“
Count
me out,” I say, taking a swig of water.  I unintentionally
slam the glass on the counter and head upstairs.  Screw the CIA.
 They’ll have to drug my ass again if they want my
cooperation…especially if it means spending more time with Mark
Sullivan.

“
You
don’t have a choice.  Neither of us does.”

“
I’ll
be in the shower.”

I
ignore Everett and go upstairs, bypassing the guest room and heading
straight for my bathroom.  Twenty uninterrupted minutes of
zoning out is all I want.  Once my head’s clear I’ll be able
to figure out how to deal with not having Breanne in my life.  

Hot
water pours over my head, cascading down my back.  With my
forearms resting against the shower wall, I’m so relaxed I hardly
notice a muffled thud, that if I had to guess, I’d say was the
bathroom door ricocheting off the wall. 

Bang.
Bang. Bang.

Slamming
on the glass wall of the shower begs for my attention, but I don’t
move.

“
Where
is it?” Breanne shouts.

My
body tenses, but I don’t physically respond.

Let
her go.

“
Damn
it, Drew.  Where’s my ring?”

Bang.
Bang.

Keeping
my head down, I put my head directly into the stream of water to
block out all sounds. 

I’m
not ready for this.
 
I don’t have it in me to fight. 

“
Answer
me!”

I
remain unaffected, at least on the outside.  Inside I’m a
mess.  Stillness falls over the bathroom and I try to remain
composed until I can be positive she’s left the bathroom. 

You
should have known better,
I scold myself as the shower door
creeks open
.

Slam!

Wide-eyed,
I turn 180 degrees and come face-to-face with a fully clothed and
pissed off Breanne.  

Correction.
 

She’s
seething.  

“
Good,
I’ve gotten your attention.  Now answer me.  Where. Is.
My. Ring?”

“
I
can’t do this, Breanne.”

“
Do
what?”  Her expression falls and I have to look away.
 Anything other than an expression of happiness or pleasure on
that face rips me apart.

“
Talk,”
I reply.

“
You
can’t talk, yet you can take my engagement ring?  In what
world does that not warrant a conversation?”

“
Not
now.”

I
turn my back on her and grab the soap, lathering my hands repeatedly
to distract myself.

“
What
is going on with you?  Did you change your mind?  Talk to
me, damn it!”

“
You
weren’t too concerned about the conversation I needed last night.”

“
Pfft.
 So…so you’re getting back at me?”

“
I’m
letting you go.”

“
Why?”

“
You’re
married and I’m not a home wrecker.”

Breanne
digs her nails into my bicep she’s squeezing me so hard.

“
Stop
being a coward.”

“
You’re
right, I am a coward. I’ve already lost you and I can’t hear you
say it.  Maybe not ever, but definitely not now.”

“
What
are you talking about?”

“
My
sanity is hanging by a very thin string, Breanne.”

“
Drew,
I—”

“
You
shouldn’t feel obligated to choose.  Mark’s back and I broke
your trust.”

“
You
think I’m leaving you?”

I
once again hang my head under the water.  Feeling her hand on my
back, her concern is evident, only I don’t want her pity.

“
So
that’s it?  You’ve figured it out and believe I’m leaving
you, and you’re giving up?  Not only have you come to this
conclusion without speaking to me, you’re also going to let one
mistake ruin what we have?”

I
can’t think of anything to say.  What does she expect?

“
I
didn’t take you as a quitter.”

My
competitive nature gets the best of me. “I’m not quitting. 
Your husband’s back.  Why would you stay?”

“
For
the same reasons I have every other day.  Because I love you.”

“
I
know how badly you’ve wanted your family back together.”

“
You’re
my family!” she retorts. 

“
For
now, maybe.”

“
Do
you think I only said ‘yes’ to your proposal because Mark wasn’t
here?”

“
Maybe…yes.
 Listen, I don’t have it in me to hang back and watch you
reconnect with him, while struggling to tell me you’re leaving. 
I can’t go through that.”

“
Drew—”

“
What
am I supposed to do? “

“
Man
up and fight for us, that’s what you’re supposed to do.  The
only thing you’ll get by feeling sorry for yourself is misery; I
should know.  We’re in this together and I need you to snap
out if.  I am all yours, do you hear me?  All. Yours.” 

I
shake my head.

“
You
were married to him for a long time.  You grieved for him.
 There’s no way you can deny that you should be with him.”

“
That’s
not the life I want.  I want ours.”

“
You
don’t know that.”

“
All
of a sudden you’re a mind reader?  Aaaahh,” she groans.
“Look at me.”

“
I
need to be alone.”

“
Yeah,
well as soon as you stop being ridiculous, I’ll let you be.  Are
you going to tell me where my ring is, or do I need to go find it
myself?”

“
Stop,”
I nearly beg.

“
I.
Love. You.”  She enunciates each word as if I’m incapable of
understanding.  

“
Hey,”
she says, shoving my shoulder.  “Are you even listening to
me?” 

“
Just
go.”

The
shower door slams behind me.  I can hear her rummaging through
something, but I keep my head down.   In a matter of
seconds I sense her standing behind me before the shower door slams
again. 

“
Since
you’re too stubborn to listen, I’ll literally spell it out for
you.”

Breanne
shoves me to the side and whips off the cap to her lipstick. 
“See that?” she asks stepping aside.  All I see is darkness.
 Irritated by my clenched eyes, Breanne cups the back of my neck
and pushes my head forward.  My forehead bumps against the glass
wall and my eyes flash open.  In huge brick red letters she’s
written the words ‘ALL YOURS’ across the glass, underlined twice
with three exclamation points.

I
turn my gaze to her and find her writing the same phrase across my
oversized, drenched t-shirt that she’s wearing.  Next, she
takes the towel that’s hanging inside the shower and dries off my
chest.  She slams her right hand over my heart, traces it and
writes furiously.

“
How’s
that for clarity?” she asks, picking up the cap to her lipstick and
snapping it back into place.  “I want my ring back.”

Before
I have a chance to respond, she’s out of the shower.  I glance
down at my chest but at this angle I can’t make out what it says.
 Curious, I step out of the shower and wipe the steam from the
mirror.  Written in small letters inside her handprint are the
words:
every word; all yours; forever.

Showing
Your Hand

Shedding
my drenched clothes onto the bedroom floor, I find a dry t-shirt in
Drew’s drawer, toss it on and slink under the covers of his bed. 
Normally, I’d care enough to clean up my mess or at least worry
about ruining the carpet.  These aren’t normal circumstances
though, and I’m so tired…too tired to care.  Last night was
one of the most intense nights of my life and every moment has been
swirling around inside my head. Despite getting over eight hours of
sleep, I’m drained.   

 
If
it weren’t for the hours leading up to Mark’s reappearance, I’d
wish for the entire day to be erased from my memory.  No matter
how bad the end of the day was, I never want to forget Drew’s
proposal, and I should have been smart enough to empathize with how
all of this must be affecting him.  Comparing the way Drew
withheld information to Mark’s secret life was unfair; I knew it as
soon as the words left my mouth.  Selfishly, it didn’t stop me
from storming off like an adolescent.  Still, Drew needs to
understand that keeping a secret, whatever it is, won’t do anything
but push us apart. 

I
lie with my back to the bathroom door, staring blankly at the wall. 
I should probably go back in there and apologize.  The whole
lipstick thing was a bit over the top.  He’s not a mind reader
and he wasn’t present for most of my conversation with Mark; how
could I expect him to know that even if Mark wanted me back, I could
never get past what he did?   I really have no idea what I
was thinking…maybe that’s the problem, I’m not thinking. 
My fuse is so short lately all I do is react.  If I had to
guess, that’s probably how Drew felt when he took off my ring.