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“Gray,” I reply knowing it’s pretty basic and expecting another comment from her.
It doesn’t come though, she’s too busy licking some more of her ice cream and I have the urge to readjust myself in my pants. It’s fucking hard being a decent guy, I’m dying to push her behind a tree, bend her over and fuck her brains out while she scratches her cheek on the rough bark.
Just think of something else.
“I need to ask you something personal, Jamie.” She looks up confused but I carry on walking with my arm over her shoulders.
“Why did you take Rose’s phone?”
She freezes and I’m scared I pushed it too far. I squeeze her shoulder in a reassuring gesture, but I feel her tensing even more. Shit.
“You know why. I’m sorry I did,” she says in a barely audible voice.
Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I just want to understand. It’s so unlike her to do this that I didn’t get it at the time. I was just mad. I just wanted the whole Sam thing to go away. After Chris told me what happened with her brother, I started figuring out she would want to try and get in contact with Volkov. She thought Sam would be a good way for her. She had no idea he’s just a middleman.
There’s nothing I can do about Sam or Nate being back in our lives, but I can try to understand in detail why Jamie so desperately wanted to get involved with this. Starting with hearing her side of the story.
“I’m just trying to understand,” I admit.
She turns to me as she takes a deep breath. “I wish I hadn’t, it wasn’t worth it, and it didn’t help me.”
“But why did you do it? Please, I’m trying to get to know you.”
“You know I was trying to get in contact with Volkov through Sam. We don’t need to get into more details, do we?”
I chuckle sarcastically because she’s the most curious person I’ve ever met, and she doesn’t mind asking me about my parents, but she keeps quiet when I’m trying to know about her life.
“What happened that day? It has to do with your scar, doesn’t it?”
She nods. “My brother took a bullet for me.”
???
Jamie
It’s always surprising that not everyone in town is aware of what happened. People loved gossiping about it, and for a while, it was the topic on everybody’s lips. But Jake wasn’t there at the time. He and Rose weren’t with the Murrays yet.
I’m sure Chris has mentioned what happened to Aaron. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have known why I wanted to get in contact with Sam or why I wanted to get to Volkov. He wouldn’t have cornered me in the janitor’s closet to tell me to drop it. But I can see he doesn’t know the whole story. I guess no one does except my therapist and me.
I could never have described to Emily exactly what happened. Even Nathan knows the outline only. No one knows how it felt to have to see my dad on his knees, begging the guy with the scar – that I now know is named Alek – to not hurt his kids. I never told anyone that it is impossible to squeeze your eyes hard enough, that the noise of my dad’s head exploding and his brains splashing out on the floor next to him is something I will never forget. I never said what the weight of my brother’s unconscious body felt like on my chest, crushing me and stopping me from breathing.
“Jamie,” Jake finally breaks the silence he had gone into after I told him that my brother took a bullet for me. “You must miss them so much.”
My brows shoot up in surprise. I’m used to people telling me that they don’t know what to say. Or that they’re sorry or they can’t imagine what I’ve been through. Never has someone so bluntly said that I must miss them so much.
“I do,” I admit.
“And you’re holding on to the hope that you’ll find Aaron,” he carries on.
“I was.” I finish the last bite of my ice cream cone and lift my right hand to hold his left one on top of my shoulder. “Then Nathan destroyed that.”
I can already see his rage rising but I cut him off before he can say anything. I explain to him what happened at my house and his fists tighten and release multiple times.
“It’s not just that,” I add. “I had started giving up anyway. That day in the janitor’s closet you…you opened my eyes. It’s been three years. Either he’s dead or he doesn’t want to be found. I don’t know which would hurt the most, but I have to accept that he’s not coming back.”
“Do you remember how it went down? That day?”
I ignore the fact that he sounds exactly like my therapist. I don’t know if it’s because he struggles with emotions and empathy or the complete opposite.
