Unbearable (26 page)

“A Lexus?” Her eyes widened in disdain. “Okay,
Cole
, get a nice safe Lexus.” Aside from being a klutz and a great guy, Cole’s taste in cars leaned to the boring side and I often teased him about it.

I laughed heartily, mostly because it pleased me to see Tess get her spunk back. “I won’t tell him you said that.”

We parked in front of the gun shop. I loved the store. I loved the woodsy smell. I loved the displays, everything from camping to hunting to fishing gear. And I loved the guns—from pistols to rifles, they had it all.

“How can I help you today?” asked a burly man with long hair and beard. He reminded me of the guys on the reality show, Duck something or other. He even had a duck call on a tether around his neck.

“Are you one of those brother’s from the duck TV show?” I had to ask, since the resemblance was so uncanny.

“No. My name’s Nate, but I get that all the time. Must be the facial hair.” He stroked his untamed beard. “Is Uncle Si crazy or what?”

I laughed. “I know, right? He makes the show, although I do like the older brother, too,” I said, eyeing a nice bow hanging on the wall above him.

“Jase. He’s a good ole boy,” Nate agreed. “What can I help you with today?”

“Do you carry the Glock Nineteen Gen Four?” I loved how the words rolled off Tess’s tongue like hot butter. The woman knew guns.

“I do.” He pulled out a key, opened the display case, and grabbed the gun, setting it on a cloth on the counter. “This Gen Four is becoming more and more popular, probably because of its size.”

Tess took the gun and bounced her hand up and down to test the weight of it. She laid it across her palm, no doubt testing the size against her hand. “Does it break down easily for cleaning?” Before Nate could answer her, Tess disassembled the gun and reassembled it in rapid succession. Nate gave me an impressed look. I beamed proudly.

She looked at several more guns but in the end decided on the first. “Here’s the permit form.” Nate handed her a twenty-six-page
book
, really. “You’re going to want to take this home and fill it out. Bring it back with the proper ID.” He opened the form and highlighted what she had to bring back with her. “It takes New York six to nine months to approve the paperwork.”

She took the book. “Another reason to hate it here.” She stuffed it into her bag. “First I’ll have to get my real license replaced since I’m taking back my real name. Who knows how long that takes? How am I supposed to protect myself until then?”

“Tess, I’ll protect you. And Seth will when you are at his house,” I assured her.

She spun around and faced me, her eyes lit up like the fourth of July. “
You’ll
protect me? What? Am I a poor defenseless female who needs a big strong man around?” She stormed out to the truck and continued her tirade. “This is the twenty-first century, buddy. I don’t—”

“Whoa,” I interrupted, cupping her face in my hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just a stupid male so please have some pity on my pathetic species. We say dumb things all the time.”

She fell into my arms. “I want my gun back. I feel vulnerable without it.” She took a few jerky breaths. “I know that’s stupid since I’ve never used it to protect myself, and it certainly didn’t help me the last time Garen showed up, but it gives me peace of mind.”

I stroked her hair. “Let’s go over to my place. I think I can help your peace of mind.”

We drove directly to my house. I led her to the den, where I kept my gun safe. Opening it, I said, “You can choose any one you feel comfortable with.”

Her face lit up as she held the Derringer first. “My dad has this gun, only his has a pearl handle. I miss him already,” she mumbled. She set it down and examined a few others. Picking up my Glock twenty-three, she nodded. “This one.” She turned to me. “Are you sure about this? You know I don’t have a concealed weapon permit.”

I plugged my ears. “Lalalala, I didn’t hear that.” She smiled. I locked the gun safe. “They make that model in neon green, too. If you want we can get you that instead of the Gen Four.”

“Tempting,” she said. “But I like the Gen Four.”

“I got my love of guns from my dad, too. Then Seth’s dad after my father died.” I slipped the twenty-three in a zipper case before adding several fully loaded magazines. No use having a gun without ammo. “Should we do some target practice so you feel comfortable with it?”

“Yes. And I’m sorry I got angry earlier.”

“No apologies needed.” I kissed her forehead. “Let’s go.”

At the range, I gave her a brief rundown of the gun, but she didn’t need it. At first I held off telling her that despite the fact that the magazine held thirteen bullets, New York law dictated no more than seven bullets per magazine. When I did summon the courage, she only mumbled, “Great. More good news for whack-jobs like the ex
.
"

We each put on our ear protection. “You go first,” she insisted. I fired off the seven rounds in rapid succession, hitting the bull’s-eye five out of seven times. The sixth and seventh shots were just outside the inner circle.

Tess fired next after reloading the magazine. She too fired off her rounds quickly. She outscored me, hitting the bull’s-eye dead center each time. We slipped of the earmuffs as we looked over the target.

“Put down that gun and come here,” I teased. “I think I’m in love.”

Before she could, the door to the shooting range flew open, startling us. Instinctively, Tess turned and pointed the gun at the intruder, who stopped dead.

“Whoa.” The kid that checked us in earlier threw his hands up. The gun wasn’t loaded, but he didn’t know that. “Just wanted to let you know we’re closing in ten minutes.” He darted out the door.

Tess set the gun down and sank onto a bench, dropped her head into her hands and broke down. “I’m trying so hard to put
him
out of my mind, but I can’t. I’m tired of being terrified at every little noise.”

I sat down next to her and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “I know you are, Tess. I know you are.”

Chapter 31

Tess

I tucked Booker’s gun into the new purse Lilah gave me. While the purse wasn’t one I would have picked with its bold orange color, it had a great side pocket, perfect for storing the Glock. I headed downstairs, not wanting to be late.

We had no news on Garen yet. I hated leaving the safety of Seth’s house more and more each day, but I didn’t want to become a hermit either. I still struggled to reclaim my life.

A heavenly scent filled the air before I reached the bottom step. Seth stood at the stove creating another masterpiece, if the smell were any indication. Living here had its perks.

“Perfect timing.” Seth smiled and set an omelet garnished with a dollop of sour cream on the bar. I parked my hungry butt on the stool. He handed me a fork and stood next to me with a paper and pen, waiting for my review. “Remember, don’t spare my feelings,” he said.

“Seth, will you stop already?” Maggie came out of the laundry room with a couple of shirts in her hand and some socks. She still wore her pink flannel nightgown, along with a pair of fuzzy slippers. Quite the contrast to Seth with his black pants and white chef’s jacket. “Tess, you don’t have to evaluate everything you eat.” Her eyes narrowed on Seth, who set the paper down. “She’s not going to want to eat here anymore if you keep doing this.”

Maggie shook her head and went upstairs. As soon as she was out of sight, Seth picked up the pad and pen again. “She’s grumpy because she didn’t get enough sleep last night. She used to just get loopy, but ever since she got pregnant she gets like that.” He gestured upstairs.

“Is she not feeling well?” I asked, biting into the incredible omelet. I wondered if he ever made anything that wasn’t delicious.

“Leg cramps. Doctor said it was normal. She and Lilah were out shopping for the nursery all day yesterday,” he said, yawning.

“I’ll bet you didn’t get much sleep either.” I took another bite. “Oh, and five on presentation.” He liked me to grade the food not only on taste, but presentation also, five being the highest mark.

“I massaged her legs to help alleviate some of the pain,” he explained, eagerly writing down the five. “I worked for the MET for a number of years. Lack of sleep doesn’t faze me.” He yawned again.

“I can see that.” My voice weighed with sarcasm.

“I mean I don’t get ornery like some people. I just get sleepy,” he assured me. “How about the taste?” He pointed to my plate. “I think I went a little heavy on the Aged Gouda.”

“Aged . . .?” I looked at him, completely lost

“Cheese. This has four different cheeses and crab meat.” I had to swallow my grin. I found the seriousness he and Booker put into cooking hilarious. “Here.” He handed me a slice of cheese. “Taste this and tell me if you think the same taste overpowers the omelet.”

Again, I held back my laugh as I bit into the cheese and instantly knew what he meant. “You’re right. The omelet is a little heavy with this.”

As he feverishly wrote, Maggie came flying down the stairs. “You’re not going to believe this. Look outside. Hurry.” My first thought was of Garen. Somehow he’d found me. My heart pounded against my ribs. Then I noticed the huge grin on Maggie’s face.

Seth rushed to the window and pulled back the curtains. “Is that a . . . It is. Booker got himself a Jag.” Seth’s face lit up like a Christmas tree as he turned to Maggie.

“Jag as in Jaguar?” she asked. Seth nodded.

“Go easy on him, Mags. Don’t take your bad mood it out on him,” Seth warned, heading for the door.

Maggie stomped her foot. “I. Am. Not. In…” She stopped, and exhaled loudly. “Okay, I’m a little ornery, sorry.” She kissed Seth’s cheek before turning to me. “But Book is so getting harassed for this. I mean, seriously. A Jaguar!” She waved me to follow and we both slipped on our boots and coats. Seth went out in his slippers and chef’s hat, but no coat. Maggie grabbed it for him. “Men,” she grumbled.

Seth and Booker circled the car like two hungry tigers waiting to pounce as we walked down the driveway. “Here.” She tossed Seth’s coat at him. He caught it, but didn’t put it on.

Booker mouthed,
not enough sleep
? to Seth. Seth nodded and laughed, though he tried to cover it with a cough.

“I saw what you said, catman.” Maggie shot him a nasty glare. He mocked fear by stepping back and blocking his face with crossed wrists.

“Nice car. Jaguar, right?” I asked with a wink.

“It most certainly is.” He practically glowed. “Like the color? It’s called Satellite Grey Metallic.”

“I would have called it gun metal,” I said.

“That’s what I thought, too. In fact, that’s why I picked it.” He ran his hand along the hood.

“Don’t touch the paint job.” Seth took the edge of his chef’s coat and wiped off Booker’s fingerprints.

“I am not going to be ridiculous like you and my grandfather were over the silly Aston Martin.” Booker leaned against the hood.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. He didn’t mean it. The Aston Martin is not a silly car.” Maggie rubbed Seth’s back dramatically. Seth rolled his eyes.

“Didn’t you once say you were a simple man with simple tastes?” Maggie asked. “I hardly call this simple. This is a blatant display—” She stopped. “Okay, I’m going to go back inside and get some sleep before I alienate all my friends and family.”

Seth gave her a quick hug. “If your legs bother you, let me know. I’ll come massage them.” She gave him the okay sign as she made her way inside.

“Six more months, my friend.” Booker slapped Seth on the back. “We’d better get going. I have a phone conference at ten,” he said to me.

“What? Wait. I want to take it for a spin,” Seth said, his voice bordering on hysterical.

“I’ll get my purse.” I jogged inside and grabbed some workout clothes. I hadn’t done yoga in forever and my stiff back protested when I woke this morning. I hoped to squeak out some time later today to go downstairs to the gym.

Seth came in as I left, his coat still in his hands. His lips were blue.
Mag’s right
.
Men
. Booker held the car door open for me and I slid onto the warm seat.

“Seat warmers are standard in Jags in Upstate New York,” he beamed. “Pretty sweet, huh?” He ran his hand over the dark gray dashboard.

“Very. And you’re closer to me now.” I leaned over and kissed him. “Convenient.”

“Keep that up and I’ll let you drive it later.” He kissed me back. “Yup. You are definitely driving this later.”

“I didn’t know you were going car shopping after you dropped me off.” I turned up my seat warmer.

“I wasn’t, but on my way home I happened to drive by the car lot again. I stopped just to look and, well, they had this Jag with only seven thousand miles on it. It’s practically brand new.” He glanced at me. “The guy was a master salesman. He had me at hello.” He chuckled and pressed a button on the dash. “He even gave me fifty dollars for the POC, sight unseen. I was in the truck when I bought the Jag, but when I brought the POC in an hour later to pick up the Jag, his face turned a little green.”

“Fifty? Can’t believe you got that,” I snorted softly. “I thought you were getting a Lexus.”

“Yeah, right, after your Cole comment?” he said drily.

“Didn’t they have a convertible on the lot when we drove by yesterday?” My personal favorite.

“They did, but convertibles aren’t very practical for Upstaters.” He gestured to a snow bank to make his point.

“Oh, right. Yet another good reason to move to Cali.”

As promised, they replaced the heater in our office. The place was toasty warm when we arrived. Between not having worked yesterday, and our trip to see my family, we were really behind. We worked at a fever’s pitch all day. Booker ordered in lunch so we wouldn’t have to stop. By five-thirty, I was spent.

“Hey, handsome.” I slid his rolling chair back and slumped onto his lap. I wrapped my fingers up in his hair. He grinned lazily. “I was hoping to get some yoga in after work. Do you want to come downstairs with me?”

“I do enjoy your Downward Facing Dog.” He nibbled on my neck. It didn’t take long to get lost in a kiss.

I pulled back first. “You’re never going to win that bet if you keep kissing me like that,” I said, breathless.

“I’ve been thinking about that stupid bet,” he grumbled. “If I lose, you win, so what’s to stop you from doing whatever it takes to sabotage me? Seriously, those
lips of yours are a secret weapon.”

“Then by all means, we shouldn’t kiss.” I stepped away.

“Let’s not get hasty.” He pulled me back. “I have a better idea. If I win, I’ll give you the prize money. You can use it to buy whatever you want. A new car, maybe.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. You already know I only made the bet to keep from getting lost in a physical relationship with you right away,” he reminded me. “And I’m a guy, so there’s no way I
want
to lose, but I’m going to need your help.”

“If you’re sure, then I’m in.” I snuggled in closer.

“I’m sure. Besides, if I don’t have your help with the bet, I’m a dead man.” I bounced on his shoulder as he laughed. “I love you, Tess.” He stroked my cheek.

I kissed him softly. “And I you.”

“Why do you need me to watch you do yoga anyway? You’re carrying the gun in your purse, right?”

“Despite my stupid remark yesterday about not needing you to protect me,” I said sheepishly, “I feel safer with you, if anything for an extra pair of eyes.”

“I wish I could, but I have a dinner meeting at seven in Syracuse, remember?” He glanced at his watch. “In fact, I need to leave in half an hour.”

“That’s right. I forgot.” I frowned.

“You can come with me if you want. I’ll even let you drive the Jag,” he tempted.

It took me all of a nanosecond to agree. “Yes!” I gave him a quick kiss and hurried out to straighten my desk.

Ten minutes later his cell phone rang. “Hey, Brent. Tell me you found him,” I heard him say. Brent was one of Booker’s buddies who’d been working on tracking Garen down. “You did?” I jumped up and ran into the office. Booker looked at me, all smiles. “Dead? Are you sure?” My heart leapt. Dead meant Garen was forever out of my life. I should’ve felt guilty for thinking that, yet I didn’t, not even a little. Booker said yes and okay a few more times, and asked, “Are you sure?” before hanging up.

I broke down in tears. Booker pulled me into his arms. “It’s over, babe. All over. Garen’s dead.”

I emptied my soul of all the fears I’d carried around with me for years. No more looking over my shoulder. No more worrying about opening the door and finding Garen there, waiting to kill me. Free. Finally free of the putrid sickness named Garen. I cried so hard my body shook. Booker held me tight, stroking my hair and reassuring me.

“What happened?” I asked wiping at my tears several minutes later.

“That phone call was from my buddy Brent from the Port Fare PD. Seems Garen was over in Buffalo. The clerk recognized him from the flyers.” Book handed me another tissue. “The clerk, a nineteen year old sophomore at UB decided to be a hero and confront him. He told Garen he knew who he was and was calling the cops. The ballsy clerk produced a gun from under the counter, which is totally illegal, but we won’t go there. Garen’s seen on the tape begging the kid not to shoot him, claiming he’s innocent and that you were some sort of psycho chick, bent on destroying his life. Thankfully, the clerk didn’t buy it. Garen jumped him. They fought over the gun and it went off, killing Garen.”

“How fitting he died committing an act of violence.” I stood and paced across the room. “It’s over. It’s finally over. No more hiding. No more fearing every little sound.” I turned to Booker as he came closer. “I’m free. It’s as if this huge weight’s been lifted off me.” I jumped into his arms. “I’m completely free.” Booker cinched his arms around my waist and spun me in a circle, then set me down. I wrapped my hands around his jaws and kissed him soundly. “I’m free.”

“Yes, you are.” He hugged me tight. I broke down on his shoulder again, still purging the pain, sorrow, and fear that consumed my life for far too long.

“Pull it together, Tess,” I lectured myself.

“No. Let it out,” Booker encouraged. “After all you’ve been through, you deserve this moment.”

“Thanks.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from bursting into tears yet again.

“We need to head to Syracuse,” he said, grabbing his briefcase and putting a couple of files inside. “We can talk more about this on the drive over.”

Syracuse. I completely forgot. I didn’t want to be trapped in a car for over an hour each way. I wanted to run down the streets, shouting.

I needed to do some yoga. “Would you mind if I didn’t go? Now that I no longer have anything to fear, I’d really like to do some yoga.”

“How are you going to get to Seth’s after? I won’t be back until late, probably close to ten.” He snapped his briefcase shut. “I don’t have time to drop you off.”

“That’s right. We drove here together.” I sat in a chair in front of his desk. He tugged the curtains closed and it sparked my memory.