Meant To Be (21 page)

"Uh, yeah, I did. I'll go get it right now.” She swept back into the kitchen and eyed Wade with all the contempt she could muster.

Thank God she had an unopened bag of Chips Deluxe cookies in the pantry.

Garrett trotted down the stairs dressed in only a pair of jeans, and refilled his coffee cup. “Hey, sport,” he called out, “think you got in enough practice to take me on?” He'd gotten stuck on the phone twice before he'd even made it into the shower, so Ethan was no doubt ready for battle.

The phone rang yet again. Garrett rolled his eyes and grabbed the cordless off the wall as he headed toward the stairwell that led to the basement. “Hello?"

"Garrett?"

"Yeah? Who's this?” He glanced downstairs and frowned when he realized the lights were off. Had Ethan run back home?

"Listen, it's Jack. I just followed Jessica home from work, and it's a damn miracle she made it in one piece. Blew practically every stop sign on the way. Something's definitely going on and—"

"Whoa, slow down.” Garrett walked through the house, glancing in each room as he went. “What the hell are you talking about, you followed her home from work?” A bad feeling mushroomed in his gut. What could cause Jessica to race home from work, no doubt risking her job in the process? His gaze happened to land on the Lazy Susan, and his heart missed a beat. Jessica's bear was missing.

"I followed her to work,” Jack said. “Planned to keep an eye on her; make sure she's safe. About an hour later she comes running out of the restaurant and jumps in her truck. She drove home so fast I could barely keep up with her."

Jesus H. Christ, Ethan! Garrett's stomach lurched. “Can you see into the house from the road? Is there a young boy with her?"

"The drapes are closed, I can't see anything. Why?"

Garrett cursed and snuck a peek out the window. Her kitchen curtains were drawn as well. Please, God, not again. “I think those two scumbags snatched my nephew."

"Why the hell would they do that? They got a death wish?"

"No, they needed insurance. I have something they want back real bad."

Jessica set six cookies on a small plate, but when she opened the fridge, Wade informed her, “He already has milk in the other room.” Then he mouthed the words,
Hurry up.

She set the plate on the coffee table and said, “Ethan, I need to run and speak to your Uncle Garrett for a minute, then we'll both be back, all right?"

Without looking up from the TV, Lyle replied, “Ethan and I will be waiting."

Wade grabbed her arm as she attempted to sweep past him. “I don't care what you have to do to get those rings back, just do it. I can't guarantee the kid's safety in my condition, and I don't need to tell you what a nutjob Lyle is.” He stared at her hard, and Jessica swallowed a sob.

"If anything happens to Ethan, you and Lyle are both dead, you know that, don't you?"

"That's why this is all resting on your head. Get the rings back, and no one'll get hurt. Lyle wants out of this place as much as I do, trust me."

"I can't believe you sullied your son's memory like this."

Jessica couldn't be sure, but she thought a tinge of regret crossed Wade's features. “He was still alive when I ... never mind. Just get your ass over there. The sooner you get back, the sooner we can all get on with our lives."

She took one last look at Ethan, grateful to see Mr. Louie now perched on his lap. Then with a deep breath, she yanked open the back door—and came face-to-face with Garrett.

"Where is he?” he demanded, stepping past her into the house. Wade tried to hobble out of his reach, but it was no use. Garrett grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the counter.

"Uncle Garrett, why—"

Jessica turned in time to see Lyle haul Ethan off the couch, sending Mr. Louie flying in the process. He reached behind his back, and before she could blink, he had a gun pressed to Ethan's head. Jessica cried out in protest as Garrett roared, “You sonofabitch!"

"Take one step and he's dead."

"U-Uncle Garrett? I didn't mean—"

"It's okay, sport, this isn't your fault. Just relax. No one's going to get hurt.” He looked at Wade. “Right?"

"Exactly right. Just hand over my rings and cash and we can all go about our business."

Garrett reached into his front pocket and pulled out a little black bag. “Stolen, I presume?” he said as he tossed Wade the bag.

"Stolen? Nah, these belonged to our grandma. Ain't that right, Lyle?"

"Yep. On our mother's side."

Garrett's expression was carefully controlled, but Jessica knew what it cost him to remain calm. Her heart ached for him, and for Ethan who visibly trembled as tears streaked down his face. To Wade, she said, “You got what you came here for. Let Ethan go and just get the hell out."

Wade quickly checked his loot, holding each ring up to examine in the sunlight spilling in though the mini blinds. Then he counted the cash and smiled. “All right, Lyle, you can let the kid go. Jessie, you'll be driving us to Seattle."

"What? You got what you wanted, what do you need me for?"

"I just said, to drive,” Wade snapped. “You know Lyle can't drive a stick, and I have a buyer for the rings up in Minnesota."

"Over my dead body,” Garrett stated and started forward.

Lyle brought the gun up and pointed it at Garrett's head. “Believe me, that can be arranged."

"You leave my uncle Garrett alone!” Ethan said, struggling to be free. Lyle gave his arm a hard jerk, which brought fresh tears to Ethan's eyes.

Jessica took a deep breath and tried to reason with him. “Lyle, please, let him go. The sooner you let these two go, the sooner we can pack and be on our way. Hell, I'm tired of this town anyway."

It was Wade who said, “Fine. Go grab what you'll need and hurry the hell up."

"No goddamn way,” Garrett stated, and Jessica was afraid of what he might do, especially since Lyle still had a hold of Ethan.

"You ain't got a choice, Paul Bunyan.” Lyle gestured toward the door that led to the basement. “Now get your ass down there. Jessie'll call your sister once we're safely out of town and tell her where you and the kid are."

When Garrett made no move toward the basement door, Lyle aimed the gun back at Ethan's head. “Don't try my patience."

Wade hobbled forward and grasped the doorknob. He opened it, and someone sprang out and tackled him to the ground.
Jack!
Out of the corner of her eye, Jessica saw Ethan break free from Lyle and run toward Garrett. Garrett chose that moment to pull his own weapon. Jessica threw herself in front of Ethan just as Lyle squeezed off a shot.

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Garrett knew raw terror as Lyle took aim at Ethan and pulled the trigger. In that split second, Jessica dove in front of Ethan and took the hit herself. Garrett fired as Lyle attempted to escape out the front door. A blood stain blossomed dead center on his back, and he collapsed face down on the floor. Garrett retrieved Lyle's gun, then made sure Jack had Wade under control before dropping to his knees to examine Jessica's injury.

"Sport, I want you to run home and tell your dad to get down here as fast as he can, all right? Tell him I already called 911.” Which he did as soon as he heard the back door slam in Ethan's wake.

"She okay?” Jack asked.

"I'm fine,” Jessica insisted, attempting to sit up. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, and Garrett wished he could take her pain on himself. He knew firsthand just how badly it hurt. “I-I can't believe I got shot."

Garrett shook his head. “Here, let me see.” He gently probed the side she'd indicated and breathed a sigh of relief when he found the wound. “You lucked out, he only grazed you. In fact, we'll have matching scars."

She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “I want you to know how sorry I am. Ethan nearly died because of me."

"Ethan is
alive
because of you. My God, you took a bullet for him. Do you have any idea how grateful I am to you?” He smoothed a stray lock of hair away from her eyes.

"It's my fault he was in that situation in the first place. I don't know how you could stand to look at me."

The last was said in a near whisper. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek. Garrett wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but the whining of the ambulance's siren grew deafeningly loud as it pulled up in front of her house.

He rose to his feet and stepped over to where Lyle lay motionless on the floor. Garrett knew he was dead, or damn close to it. While Garrett derived no pleasure from the man's death, he knew he wouldn't have any nightmares over it either. He was just glad to have the people he cared about safe and sound.

Jessica clamped down on her bottom lip as the paramedics cleansed and bandaged her wound. The bullet, they told her, had made quite a crease in her side, but thankfully, that was the extent of the damage. Another inch in and the bullet could have lodged between her ribs ... or worse.

Do you have any idea how grateful I am to you?
Garrett's words replayed over and over in her mind until she thought she might scream. Dammit, she didn't want his gratitude, she wanted ... what the hell did she want? His heart? Fresh tears burned her eyes. Yep, his heart was exactly what she wanted, but not because he was ‘grateful’ or felt obligated. She wanted him because he loved her. Nothing less could ever be enough.

Lord, she was tired. Not only physically, but mentally. She thought about Marky and was actually able to smile a bit. Jessica hadn't been able to save her son, but she had saved Ethan, and in some small way that freed her; made her feel whole again.

Made her feel worthy.

Garrett crouched down beside her and said, “Soon as you get a couple pain killers in you, you'll feel much better, I promise."

I love him so much
. That old saying ‘If you love something set it free’ came to mind, and though it would just about kill her, Jessica knew she had no choice but to do exactly that.

She watched the paramedics check Wade from head to toe and rolled her eyes at his nonstop whining. My God, what had she ever seen in that man? The only good thing he'd ever done was help her create Marky. He hadn't even asked whether his own brother was dead or alive.

As they wheeled him past her toward the front door, Wade lifted his head and said, “So Jessie, now that you lost your waitressing job, what are you going to do? I hear they have some strip clubs over on the east side of town.” He turned to Garrett. “Jessie's quite a stripper, did you know that? Gives the best lap dance you'll ever have and—"

Garrett shot across the room and grabbed Wade by the throat. It took two cops and three paramedics to pry Garrett off of him. When Wade lay utterly still, Jessica feared Garrett had choked him to death.

Then Wade wheezed and coughed and rasped, “I ... want that bastard ... arrested! I'm pressing charges this time, Jessie!"

The officers apologized to Garrett, then Jessica watched in horror as they pulled his arms behind his back and cuffed him. When Garrett offered no resistance, Jessica cried, “No, please, Wade goaded him! He doesn't deserve—"

"I'll be fine. Worry about yourself."

Garrett's expression was inscrutable. He'd come to her defense because that's the kind of man he was—honorable. But she could've sworn she'd detected a flicker of disgust in his gaze, and Jessica died a little inside as she remembered his words.
"Not that I'm into strippers."

"Well, where the hell is she?” Garrett strode out of the jail cell more pissed off than when he'd gone in. He'd spent three nights behind bars, and Jessica hadn't come to see him once. Okay, she'd been injured, he knew that. He hadn't given it a second thought when she hadn't shown up the first night. He hadn't batted an eyelash over the fact she hadn't called the station to check on him. But now, the look on his brother's face said it all.

Jessica was gone.

Nicky clapped him on the back. “Sorry, but we're not sure. Sara's been trying to call to see if she needs any help, but there's no answer. Her machine hasn't even picked up. And her truck's been gone since the night before last, best we can figure."

Garrett silently fumed as they hopped in Nicky's Jeep and drove home. As soon as they pulled up to the curb, Garrett threw his door open and stormed up to Jessica's front door. Her truck was nowhere in sight and all the curtains were drawn.

"Hey, you mutant fur ball!” he called out, praying Mr. Louie would come running from around the back of the house. If her cat was here, Jess was here. She'd never leave him behind, of that Garrett was certain.

But Mr. Louie never came, and Garrett had to face facts.

Jessica had left him.

He spent the next week getting his life back in order. He spoke to his superior officer about coming back from his leave of absence as soon as the in-house investigation was over. Garrett loved being a cop and couldn't imagine a career in anything other than law enforcement. He also made a conscious decision to start looking for a place of his own. He was nearly thirty-one years old and still living at home, for crissakes.

Most importantly, he let go of the pipe dream that he and Jessica would live happily ever after. She must have wanted to get away from him pretty damn bad if she hadn't even waited till her wound had healed to start the long drive back to Seattle. Well, good riddance. Garrett deserved better than someone who was constantly yanking his chain.

Of course, it would help if her beautiful face didn't haunt him every time he closed his eyes.

Muriel lay naked in Luke's arms, his hand gently kneading her hip, her fingers drawing lazy circles on his chest. They'd just spent two of the most incredible hours of her life in bed, and she'd come close to tears as he'd loved her like no man ever had before.

Muriel's ex-husband wasn't an evil guy, but he'd had a roving eye that could've put Casanova to shame. After the fourth affair, she'd decided enough was enough. Staying married for the sake of her kids wasn't good for any of them if she was miserable. So she'd kicked his philandering butt out of the house and filed for divorce. Six years later, she bought the home she presently lived in, and although she'd dated plenty since, she hadn't felt anything more than a strong attraction for another man until she'd met Luke.