Tension (5 page)

Stella pointed at that picture. “That’s the agent that briefed us prior to the FBI becoming involved in the operation.”
Careful
.

“That’s the only one you recognize?”

Stella took her time and looked at each photo. She knew from her criminal law class that eye witness identifications were inherently flawed. Sighing, she shook her head. “I don’t recognize any of these other guys. But, again, they all had on masks.”

Agent Harris began collecting the photos and putting them back in his file. Stella’s finger on Jack’s picture made him pause. “What’s this guy doing in here? Isn’t he one of the good ones?” she asked Agent Harris.

“Yes, but I just needed to make sure he wasn’t involved. ATF is cooperating with our investigation, but refusing to give us any information about their undercover agents. You should see what happens to these undercover agents, especially when they go under for so long. This guy has been entrenched in a drug and weapons operation in Montana for about four years. When agents don’t have contact with reality for that long they start to forget why they’re there in the first place. You know what I mean?”

“I guess.” She reminded herself that she told the truth, just omitted certain details. She still had plausible deniability.

“I mean, it doesn’t seem like that’s happened here. He was the one who contacted ATF with the fuck up in the first place. We’re worried the group he was working with found out and killed him. When he traveled to DC, it was a huge risk to the operation. ATF says it has to be careful in trying to contact him.” Agent Harris picked up the last picture and put it back in the folder. “Anything else you remembered since the last time we talked?”

“No. I’m sorry. I wish I could remember more; it’s just that everything went black after I was shot.”

“We understand, Stella. No one thinks you’re doing anything wrong. You just recover and be a good witness. These assholes will pay for killing the good guys.”

“I hope so,” she said to Agent Harris’ back as he headed to the door.

He stopped before he opened the door. “Your roommate, Patrick, is ATF too, right?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “You know what they say about DC. You can spit and hit a federal employee and a lawyer. My other roommate works for the DOJ. Go figure.” She shrugged.

“How’d you end up living with two guys?” Agent Harris put his hand on the doorknob, but didn’t make a move to open it.

“Are you telling me you haven’t been watching TV while you’re here in Montana, Agent?” she asked sarcastically.

“So that’s true then, your fiancé died and you ended up living with two guys you hardly knew?”

“That’s correct.”

“You deferred law school for a year?”

“Correct.”

“Then you worked at GC’s office for the Marshals?”

“Yep. The General Counsel’s office,” she confirmed. “All true, but, I made decent grades in law school. I didn’t ‘just barely make it’ like they’re reporting.”

“Patrick your boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Billy?”

“No.” He was really starting to piss her off.

“Which one’s the boyfriend?”

“You know that answer to that one too, Agent,” Stella retorted with an edge in her voice.

“The bartender.”

“George, yes.”

“Glad you have a good group of guys around you for support.”

“What exactly are you getting at, Agent?”

“Nothing, just trying to figure out how you got sent on this assignment the second week of your job with the GC’s office.” He opened the door. “Got to put all the pieces together, you know.”

“Let me know when you do,” she muttered as he left. “Asshole.”

#headfullofdoubt

George let the cool water from the shower wash all the sand and saltwater off his body. He didn’t know if they were doing the right thing moving in together, but he knew he wanted her near him and for her to be safe. Stella didn’t want to move back in with Patrick and Billy, so there really was no other choice. He couldn’t take her living by herself, so she was moving into his house. He scrubbed his face with some of her coconut shower gel and his thoughts went back to the hospital.

George’s “shift” at the hospital was Monday through Wednesday since Stella awoke; on those days, he was often there alone, giving her mother a break. Stella’s dad was working back in Atlanta during the week but staying at the hospital from Friday to Sunday. Stella was so restless and irritated; she just wanted to get out of the room and Montana. He warned her that things were going to be different. He planned to keep better tabs on her, and she’d have to be really careful about where she went. She’d brushed him off, not believing how different her life would be when she left the confines of the hospital.

Every time he saw her, he tried to bring her something to make her happy. George wanted to see Stella smile again, and not the fake one she used for everyone else. When he brought her a burger and fries from a Five Guys restaurant down the road, he thought she was going to explode with joy.

“Oh my shit, George, thank you.” She took an enormous bite of her burger and sighed blissfully. “I’ve wanted a burger and fries since I woke up.”

“So Millie told me that you now have a Twitter account,” he said casually, watching her eat the rest of burger. Watching her tear into her burger made him remember all the noises she used to make when she ate before the attack, relishing every bite. It also made him remember the other noises she made while doing other things.
Am I really thinking about sex while watching her eat a burger? Yes, I am.

“Oh, yeah.” She leaned over and reached toward the side table for her phone. “Can you download Twitter on here and tell me how to use it?”

“Sure.” George fiddled with her phone while Stella finished her fries. Not only did he download and setup Twitter, he changed his ringtone to “I and Love and You.” “You know Millie is using this for PR purposes, right? So you should probably not cuss on it, okay?” He laughed, knowing he sounded like her mother.

Stella forced a fake laugh. “Whatever, dude. She said I should tweet about my progress and that’s what I’ll do.”

“Not that I doubt that you would follow directions, but that doesn’t mean you should tweet about how you hate the doctors poking you and how terrible the food is.”

She sighed. “I know what it means, George. I’m not an idiot.”

He ran his hand over her hair, smoothing it back. “I know you’re not an idiot, but you are on narcotics. I highly doubt you should have access to Twitter while you’re on narcotics. I’ve heard about your drunk posts on Facebook, after all. Although…it would be highly entertaining.”

“Okay, you may be right. Maybe we should designate less-drugged times to tweet; though that might mean I’m in pain, and we can’t have pain-influenced tweets,” she teased. “Now that I think about it, maybe you should put my phone on the other side of the room or in your pocket.” She smiled at his ass as he walked her phone over to the chest of drawers which the TV sat on.

He turned to face her and dropped the phone in the front of his jeans. “Let me know if you need to tweet.” He winked.

“Oh, I think I really need to tweet right now.” She swung her legs out and stood up slowly.

“Something really important, like your doctor has okayed sex.” George smirked and wiggled his crotch at her.

Stella laughed and then groaned as the pain spread through her chest, but she walked over to where George was standing. She eased her hand down his pants. “I think I found something way more interesting than my phone in here.”

“Excuse me,” Stella’s mother cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you were here, George.”

“Uh-uh, yes,” George stammered. “I just got here. Stella accidently dropped something down my pants.” He turned to hide his arousal and his laughter. Stella slowly pulled her hand out of his pants.

“Okay… sure.” Stella’s mother was clearly uncomfortable. “I’ll head to the hotel. See you both tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Stella turned her eyes back to George as her mother hustled out of the room. Then she burst out laughing. “Oh shit, that hurts.” She shoved her hand back into his pants, which made it really hard to think.

“So… how about that status update? Any sex yet?” George bent down to kiss her gently. What he wanted to do was push her up against the wall and ravage her.

“I’m afraid not, but I’m sure we can think of some other things we can do.” She raised her eyebrows at him suggestively.

After she’d made him seriously horny, George helped her back into the bed. He pulled the chair up to her side and they talked for an hour. The pain medication she was on made her incoherent at times and sleepy most of the remaining time. She fell asleep holding his hand. He sat holding her hand for a long time, just watching her and wondering if Stella would let him help her through this mess. George thought about the first time he met her at the dog park, her first day in DC. She’d been so full of life. He knew she was strong, but he wondered how this would impact her life. Would she move back in with Patrick? Did she want to move back to DC at all or was she going to move to Atlanta? Could he handle being with someone who had been through this sort of tragedy? He didn’t even know how to handle her. His head was full of doubt.

After a while, he moved to the couch and turned the TV on low to watch the news. It showed him entering the hospital earlier that day and then commented on their relationship. It was all speculation and made him cringe at the reporters covering the story. It was horrible and without any foundation. The broadcaster looked in the camera and told America it had been reported that Stella was now seeing one of the FBI agents that was investigating the case. Stella had broken up with George, but he refused to believe it. He shook his head; this news was obviously well researched.

He finally fell asleep, but jolted awake at the sound of something crashing. He sprang up and realized Stella’s bed was empty. “El!”

He ran to the bathroom and saw her crumpled on the floor, legs splayed, the back of her gown spread open, exposing her entire back and ass.
Holy shit, she’s not moving!

“El!” With restraint he didn’t know he had, he gently pulled her into his arms. “Wake up, El!” He palmed her face and called her name, trying desperately to rouse her. He wondered if he should call the nurse.

She cracked her eyes and looked at him. “What happened?”

“You passed out, I guess. What were you doing?” He cradled her in his arms and carried her back to the hospital bed, careful to pull the IV pole back with her.

She shook her head a little and slumped into him. “I just had to pee,” she whispered, her voice soft and low.

“Love, I can help you.”

He saw a flash of something in her eyes he’d never seen before, something so feral it sort of scared him. It was quickly gone and he wondered if he’d imagined it.

“I just wanted to fucking pee by myself. I mean, this is fucking ridiculous. I can’t stand this.” A tear fell down her cheek.

He hated that she was hurting; hated that she felt so helpless, but had no idea what he was supposed to do. “El, I know this is hard. I can’t even imagine how you feel.” He put her in the bed and kissed away the tear that slid down her cheek to her chin.