Heart in Wire: A by a Thread Companion Novel (31 page)

Patrick was typing furiously, trying to get out of the office. He was running to look at a few apartments after work and he hated being late. Surprisingly enough, he loved living with Jesse and they’d became fast friends. They had easy conversations about politics and sports, they worked out together and genuinely liked each other’s company. Patrick was glad he’d made this friend, but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome, plus he’d really like to have his own space. His back was to the door, but he heard the clicking of his favorite colleague’s heels passing his office.

“Hey, Patrick, we’re running to grab drinks over at Twist, you want to go?”

He hadn’t heard of Twist, but it sounded girly. “Who’s going?”

“Jared, Leanne, and me.”

“Can’t tonight.” He went back to typing. He found that if he looked at Marly too long his eyes fell to her chest in a very obvious way. It was embarrassing.
He needed to get laid
.

“That’s too bad, I was hoping you’d come,” she said as she left his doorway and walked back toward her office.

As he turned to look out his door, he smiled. Her ass was on display in a very tight black dress. He loved that dress.

After Patrick finally found a place he liked, Jesse agreed to “help” Patrick move into his new place and had hired movers. While the guys were packing and moving everything, he and Jesse went to a furniture place and Patrick got a couch and table set for delivery in the next few days. He felt like an adult, getting his own place and buying real furniture. In DC, he and Billy had cobbled together their furniture from other friends that were giving things away and stuff neighbors left at the curb. They’d found the La-Z-Boy in the den on the sidewalk a few houses down from them.

After the shopping excursion, Jesse drove them to the apartment Patrick had leased for the next year, south into an area called Ashford Park. It was a little neighborhood just north of Buckhead, but still in Atlanta. Patrick picked it mostly because it was pretty close to the ATF’s office. The neighborhood was full of young professionals, including many hot women that could be seen running the sidewalk every morning. Although it was in Atlanta, it had a ton of trees and parks in the neighborhood and he liked that as well. He could also walk to a few restaurants and stores, too, something he missed from DC.

As they turned into the apartments, Patrick pondered how much his life had changed in just three months—he had moved, got a new job, broke up with his long term girlfriend,
and
fled the woman his life had revolved around for years. He was practically a new man. And now he was striking out on his own.

“Stop, man,” Jesse said as he parked the car in front of Patrick’s new place.

“What?”

“I’ve only lived with you for a few months, but even I know that look.”

“What look?”

“The look like someone kicked you in the fucking ribs,” Jesse answered and punched Patrick in the arm.

“I look like someone just kicked me in the ribs?”

“Pretty much.” Jesse walked in the propped open door. “Nice place, man.”

“Thanks. I don’t need much.”

“I know you wanted to get out on your own, but you could’ve stayed with me for awhile.”

“I appreciate that, but I’ve imposed for too long.”

“No imposition, man. I had fun having you around. Didn’t cramp my style at all.”

Patrick laughed, they’d had fun everywhere they’d gone for the past couple of months. “Glad I didn’t cramp your style.”

“No, really,” Jesse said seriously. “I need a good wingman that’s not a football player. We’ll definitely have to hang out after you move.”

“Well, you
are
my only friend here so far, so I guess you’ll do.” Patrick laughed. He was glad he had someone he could count on in Atlanta, who knew everything and he didn’t have to be too open with. He wasn’t good at sharing and stayed to himself mostly. Patrick had plenty of acquaintances, but he could count people he considered friends on one hand. He felt lucky. Jamie had no friends. Patrick put that thought away immediately. Jamie managed to invade his thoughts when he was least expecting it these days.

They shook hands and Jesse pulled him in for a one-arm hug. “Yo, you need to let all this stuff with Stella go.”

“I know.” He nodded. “I just can’t seem to get past it. I’m so mad at her.”

“You need to choose forgiveness,” Jesse instructed solemnly. “You both did what you did. It’s in the past. You staying mad at her is your way of hanging on to something that isn’t worth hanging on to.”

“She’s worth it,” he almost whispered.

“Yeah, for George, not you,” Jesse said firmly. “She’s not yours to hang on to, man.”

“But that’s the part that—”

“I know.” Jesse slapped Patrick’s back. “That’s the part you need to let go. Y’all fucked, it was good. You loved her, she loves you in her own way, and it’s fucking tragic. It’s not going to happen. She’s having George’s baby, they’re married. It’s done. Nothing else for you to do.”

Patrick hung his head. He’d told himself the exact thing a number of times, but Jesse confirming it just brought it all home. She wasn’t his to hang on to and there was nothing he could do about that. Maybe if he really let it all go, he could see her without his chest feeling paralyzed.

“How do I do that? I really have been trying.”

“You just keep trying until one day you don’t have to try anymore, you just do.”

“Wise words...you’re as bad as Billy.”

Jesse laughed as he moved toward the door. “And we’re both right. I’ll see you tonight, right? A double date and all.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Fine.” Patrick waved him off as Jesse disappeared out the door.

Chapter Twenty-Five

THE LAST CALL

Jesse and Patrick were in an Escalade with two very attractive women, both blondes with really gigantic tits. The women were sitting in the very back row, chattering about their Seven jeans. Patrick wasn’t sure if that was a brand or if that’s how many pairs they had, but it was mind-numbing. Jesse and Patrick were in the back captains’ chairs, not talking. He had no idea how Jesse tolerated these sorts of women, shallow and dumb. They were headed to the Braves game, though, and this was the way to go—Jesse had tickets directly behind home plate and was on the list for The 755 Club, a restaurant and bar where you could sit, eat, drink and watch the game.

Patrick was quiet on the ride to the stadium, lost in thought about the last baseball game he’d been too. Billy, Jamie, and Patrick went to the Nationals game when they played the Braves shortly after Jamie moved to DC.
Jamie. He’d killed Jamie
. He blinked back the regret that came bubbling up from his gut. The thought that he’d killed his friend surfaced all the time, several times a day, but he was getting better at tucking it away in a box and not allowing himself to drown in that reality.

“Patrick?” One of the girls was saying his name in question. He looked up to see that they were at the stadium.

“Oh, sorry,” he muttered and got out of the SUV quickly. He turned around and helped the woman out of the SUV, Tanya he thought her name was. She kept his hand in hers as they walked toward the gates of the stadium.

Jesse handed the woman at the gate the tickets and they went up the elevators to The 755 Club. They watched the first two innings of the game from the vantage point of the club, which was in left field. It was nice and all, but Patrick was itching to get to their seats.

“Tara,” Jesse said to the girl holding Patrick’s hand. “Do you mind if Patrick and I sit together?”

Shit, he hoped he didn’t call her by the wrong name.

She cocked her head to the side and pouted. “But Kim and I wanted to sit together.”

“It’s fine,” Patrick commented. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

When they got to the seats, several kids came up and asked Jesse for his autograph. Patrick tuned out everything except the whir of the pitch and pop of the catcher’s mitt once the ball found its home there. It reminded him of Jamie, the long haired, lanky pitcher that he’d grown up with. His chest hurt. He looked away, letting his eye roam over the smiling faces of the fans. He heard the pop again and he tried to stay away from the memory that invaded his brain.

His phone rang like it did every Monday at 4:15 pm on the dot. He’d dreaded every Monday for the past six months because of this call.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Patrick,” Jamie croaked from what sounded like a faraway place. “I can’t fucking come home!” he wailed into the phone.

Patrick held the phone from his ear and looked at it. Shit, Burns must’ve told him he wasn’t coming back.

“I told him, Patrick. I told him I couldn’t do it, that I wanted out,” Jamie said, his voice shaking. “I can’t stay here, they’ll kill me. I’m…I’m already changing. The only thing that’s kept me going is Stella. I need her, Patrick. What do I do?”

“What did Burns say?” he asked.

“He said I was in until he said I was out. What the fuck does that mean?” A sob escaped Jamie’s mouth. “Patrick, WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?”

“Shit, man. I don’t know. Burns is your supervisor. I…” Patrick tried to remember protocol about going over your direct supervisor’s head.

“Patrick, he killed me! My parents think I died. The love of my life thinks I fucking died. He made it where I can’t come back.”

Yes, he did. “Look let me dig into it, okay?” Patrick could at least talk to Kevin and see if there was any way he could get him out.

“Patrick, please help me,” Jamie begged.

“I’ll do everything I can, Jamie.” He looked around his cubicle to make sure no one was listening. “Let me check things on this end. You start gathering things you may need on your end.”

“Like what, money and a fucking car?”

“You can’t go out like that, Jamie, or you’ll always be running. You’ve got to get evidence to support your cause to get out.”

“What kind of evidence?”

“Well, think about it, and we’re on a government phone.” Patrick sighed; couldn’t Jamie see what he was trying to get at?

“I’ve only got a minute left,” Jamie said stoically. “I’m a dead man and you’re talking to me like an asshole.”

“Jamie,” he warned.

“You know what? Fuck you, Patrick. I need your help, man. I need it. I’m—”

“I’m going to help you, I told you,” Patrick interrupted.

“Is she okay?” Jamie asked.

“She’s okay.”

“Is…is she seeing any one?”

“No, she’s not,” he answered.

“I miss her so much, she’s the only thing…”

“Jamie, get your shit together and get out of there,” Patrick said shortly. “I’m going to figure out things up here and we’ll talk next week.”

“Oh God, Patrick, I’m dying here. I won’t make it.” The phone cut off.

That was the last time he spoke with Jamie. When he’d brought up the conversation with his own supervisor, he was immediately moved to a different floor, which changed his phone number and very effectively cut him off from Jamie. He’d wondered several times over the years if anyone answered Jamie’s calls at his old desk. Kevin never even mentioned Patrick’s concerns again. He’d tried to bring it up a few times, but was shut down by Kevin before he even asked how Jamie was doing. It was then that Patrick realized it was every man for himself, even at the ATF.

Chapter Twenty-Six

BACK ON THE HORSE

March had come and gone in the blink of an eye due to the extra hours he was putting in at work. The ATF had set up several stings with the counties just south of Atlanta and it was keeping him busy. The stings helped lead them back to the big players in Georgia and Florida moving guns, but took a substantial amount of time and effort. One of the favorite parts of his job was working with Marly. It was clear she was smart, plus she had a quick wit. And her lips were amazing.