Heart in Wire: A by a Thread Companion Novel (9 page)

“What?” she asked. Her tone was innocent, but she knew full well what he was thinking.

“I could fuck you every day of my life,” he said, ready to go again if she gave him the go ahead.

Her eyes were mischievous, but a hint of sadness appeared in them. She pulled a white tank top over her bra, slipped her feet in flip flops, and then left his room.

Patrick heard Millie let Cooper out in the backyard and open the fridge. Maybe he should start looking into getting a place for them, if that’s what she wanted. He could do that, saw off the tugging sensation he felt when he saw El. Shit, who was he kidding? It was there when he heard her voice, her laugh, even when he smelled her. The sensation that drew him to El made his mind and body war with each other and caused him to doubt everything he had with Millie. He could do it. El was with George and he could love Millie. His dick might love Millie. His mouth may love her taste. He would do it. He’d call a realtor tomorrow; they would get their own place where she could fuck him every day of his life. Every day he woke up he hoped the awareness that he was missing something in his life would go away, that one day it’d just fill up with Millie. He wished Millie could make him whole.

He pulled on some cargo pants and a shirt and, with new resolve, walked into the kitchen where Millie was bent over, pulling something from Cooper’s paw. Her ass hung out a little from her shorts.
Yes, this he could do
.

“If your ass keeps doing that in those shorts, we’ll need to get back in the room so I can fuck you again.”

Millie giggled. “I texted them that we were on our way,” she said as she straightened up. “Later, though.”

“Promise.” He pulled her into him and kissed her perky pink lips with a gentleness that surprised him. He wanted to protect her too, from him. He put a finger in her shorts and slid away the flimsy fabric of the floss she called panties and dragged his finger across her. Shit. “Now?”

Her breath hitched and her nipples were so hard they could cut glass, but she shook her head and bit his jaw line. “Thirty minutes,” she breathed.

“Really?” He was surprised she was turning him down.

“Yep, I already told them we were coming.” She clapped at Cooper. “Come on, Coop, let’s go see your momma.”

With that, she sashayed out the front door, leaving him standing there, staring at his finger. He sighed, adjusted himself, and followed her out the front door.

The short drive to El’s was quiet, with the exception of Cooper panting in the backseat. Every once in a while he’d stick his head in between the seats and lick one of them. They pulled up in front of George’s house and saw George standing in front of El’s old car.

“What the fuck?” Patrick said out loud.

Millie was already out of the car and letting Cooper out of the backseat. He opened the door and his entire body felt like there were pins and needles sticking him. He glanced up at El and she was smiling. He watched Cooper run and knock her down with his front paws; she fell backward, disappearing into the house.

“George, what’s El’s car doing here?” This didn’t make any sense to him.

George was peering through the windows of El’s car. “No idea. We called her dad; they didn’t find it. We just pulled up and it was here. El’s going to get the other set of keys.”

Millie came over to Patrick and grasped his hand, not really understanding the problem, but knowing it was something.

George walked a few steps toward Patrick and was about to shake his hand when El came running down the stairs yelling, “Get away from the car. Run!”

Patrick heard the tone in El’s voice and pushed Millie toward the house; El was still yelling and flailing her arms. George was moving toward El, his face in a question.

“Inside, get inside!” El’s voice was strained with emotion. She got behind them and pushed at their backs, making them move faster up the stairs toward the front door.

El pushed them inside the house and shut the door huffing and bent over at the waist, hands on her knees. “FUCK! THIS! SHIT!”

Patrick took her in and tried to let his brain wrap around what was going on. She pointed at a box of oranges.
What the fuck did any of this have to do with a box of oranges?

“A note,” she said softly.

George grabbed a white piece of paper that had fallen to the floor and read, “I thought I’d bring these to you since I know you like them so much. Enjoyed your testimony. We’ll talk soon. J.” His back straightened and he looked directly at El. “This wasn’t here when I left.”

“The clementines?” El asked, still breathing hard.

“No,” George strode the length of the room, “those were delivered right before I left, but the note wasn’t on there.”

“I thought the car had a bomb in it or something,” El admitted.

Bomb
. Patrick thought about the note and the car in front; with his training, it was very possible for Jamie to plant a bomb on the car. He got his phone from his pocket and called in a favor. A big one. He gave his buddy Chris the address and quickly decided he needed to take Millie home. She was standing next to him, glaring at El and looking a little confused.

“George,” El breathed and melted into him. He kissed her.

Patrick hated when they looked like that, perfect together. They weren’t perfect. George didn’t know El like he did.

“What the fuck is going on?” Millie burst out, scowling when Patrick looked from El to Millie. “Am I the only one that doesn’t know something? Why is someone threatening your life? Why did someone bring your car, which was stolen over six fucking months ago, all the way from Atlanta? Why the fuck are you guys not more freaked out? Why did you say Jamie?” Millie’s hands flew around wildly to show her frustration, her face flushed, and then she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.

This was Jamie, up and down. He was close. Patrick knew it; he just hoped he could get to him, see if there was any way to turn this around, before he did something stupid. Stupider. Jamie didn’t need to kill El; she hadn’t said a word to anyone about him shooting her. Maybe they’d just convince him to ride off into the sunset somehow. Jamie had gone undercover in a bad mission with an even worse supervising agent and he was just going to have to live with his decisions.
They all had to live with Jamie’s fucking decisions.

“Damn, Mil, if I knew the answers to those questions I’d be better off,” El said, trying to joke. “What are you both doing home anyway?”

“Well, you wouldn’t let us go to Montana, so we’d thought we’d be here when you got back,” Millie responded curtly.

Patrick pulled Millie protectively into his chest. Instinct kicked in and all he wanted to do was protect her. “I called in a favor and my buddy from the ATF is coming to take a look at the car for any sign of explosives. I’m taking Millie home.” He attempted to pull her toward the door. “Call me if you need me, El.”

“Wait, I want to know what the fuck is going on!” Millie demanded, fighting his pull.

“Babe, we’ll talk about it later. Let’s just get out of here now, okay?” Patrick’s voice was soft and he ran his thumb over Millie’s right eyebrow. Her resolve crumbled and she melted into him, finally letting him guide her toward the door.

“Fine, but don’t think this is over.” Millie gave El the universal symbol that she’d “be watching.”

Patrick moved her quickly to his car. He opened the door for her and ran to the driver’s side, then slid in and did a u-turn so they wouldn’t pass El’s car. Chris would be there soon and then they’d have an idea what they were dealing with. A thought needled his mind—he needed to get a plan together and quick. If Jamie was willing to just kill her this way, he was a loose cannon that needed to be dealt with.

“Patrick?” Millie said, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Yeah, babe.”

“What’s going on?”

“I have no idea,” he responded truthfully.

Chapter Six

TORN

Patrick brought the three chicken breasts in from the grill and it reminded him of when El lived with him and Billy, of the nights that he and Billy took turns cooking for them, when they were a family and took care of her. He missed her smartass comments. The sparkle in her eye as she told him to fuck off or asked him to help her was what drove him the first couple of years that she lived with them.

Millie smiled at him as she set the side dishes down on the kitchen table and he kissed her cheek. Billy paused his game and sat at the table.

“So I’m going to be out of commission for a while with work,” Billy said and shoved a piece of chicken in his mouth, looking at Patrick.

“Where to this time?” Millie asked innocently, scooping up sautéed spinach and waiting for his answer.

“Kansas City.”

“Fuck, that’s miserable,” Patrick commented.

“Yep, it’ll be hard for me to get back and forth for the next few weeks.”

Patrick caught the tone of Billy’s voice and looked up from his roasted potatoes. He looked at his best friend intently, knowing that Billy was trying to tell him he wouldn’t be around for the next few weeks even though Patrick needed him. It was to be expected with Billy’s job. Patrick sighed. “No worries, dude. We’ll make it.” He winked at Billy.

“You need us to do anything for you while you’re away?” Millie asked.

“No, I just feel bad I’m going to be gone with so much going on…” His voice trailed off.

So Patrick was on his own with planning Jamie’s demise. Billy’s job took him all over, and Patrick wasn’t surprised he’d be gone, he was just hoping that Billy could help him with the planning stages. If he was going to be gone, that nixed that strategy. Maybe he could talk through these things with him before he left. Billy was the brains in the operation; Patrick could always count on him to help talk him through a problem. It was something most people didn’t know about Billy.

Millie got up to grab the wine bottle on the counter.

“I’m sorry,” Billy mouthed as soon as she was gone.

Patrick shrugged. He was fine with Billy not being involved. He’d get it done, he had to. He promised himself he would as he thought about one of their last meals when they were all together.

Millie had invited El over for lunch. She’d made it clear that Patrick was going to be there because she was suspicious of why El had stopped talking to him altogether all of a sudden. He’d never told her why they fought and then with the bombing, it just didn’t seem important. But, when Millie had seen her in the rehab facility, El said something that made Millie upset and she wouldn’t talk to Patrick about it. The situation was delicate because Millie and Patrick were both friends with El and El’s hatred of him now caused a rift in his and Millie’s relationship, but he wasn’t completely sure why.

Patrick was in their room putting a shirt on when he heard El arrive and listened as Millie told her about Twitter. He waited in there for a while, trying to decide how to handle El, and emerged from the room just as Millie was pulling the Frito Pie out of the oven.

El’s body went rigid when she saw him. Billy grabbed El’s hand and pulled her next to him on the couch. He hated that Billy was still in her good graces; it wasn’t fair. Billy had known about Jamie too, but if Patrick told El that, then his entire argument about why he didn’t tell her before was moot.

Patrick was going to make her talk to him today. He stalked through the kitchen and stood in the doorway into the den. “El.” He nodded at her.

“Asshole,” El spit through clenched teeth.

Well, at least she was talking to him. He burst out laughing.

“Tell us how you really feel, El,” Billy managed through his laughter.

“Always has,” Patrick commented. Pushing his luck, he walked over to the couch where Billy and El were sitting and sat defiantly, shoving her over in the process. The couch was not big enough for all three of them. He felt a peace inside just by touching her, her leg rubbing up against his. He smiled as El elbowed him in the stomach, trying to push him away from her. He leaned into her ear and whispered, “I’m sorry.” His skin began buzzing with longing, being this close to her.

She didn’t look at him, but got up and walked into the kitchen, and began setting the table with Millie.

“She looks okay,” Billy whispered as he played Madden.

“I guess so,” Patrick responded quietly. “I don’t really know how to make this better, Billy.”

“Yeah, I guess there isn’t a card for, ‘Sorry I lied about your fiancé being dead.’”

“Yeah, well she never gave me a card thanking me for helping her survive the first year either.”

“Patrick…” Billy paused the game. “You think El’s going to do something like that? Be aware of someone else’s feelings and take the time to thank them? Seriously?”

He didn’t say anything. El had given him more than he could’ve asked for, but he wouldn’t admit that to anyone. “She gave me a gun.” He shrugged.

Billy eyed him warily. “Why do you always do that?”