Page 33 of Then and Now (The Edge of Retaliation 3)
I wondered how many times they called my phone.
I wondered how hard they looked for us.
Or did they just let us go? Figuring maybe their lives would be easier, too?
Every single moment I think about Tanner Yates, my heart still burns. It still throbs against my ribcage, it still aches to hear his voice and feel his touch. I miss him more than I’ll ever admit. Even now, even years later, he is still in my mind every single day. I’ve dated, in fact, I’m dating someone right now.
But Tanner holds a place in my heart that I can’t seem to close off.
It was hard on Jo, too. She had to deal with Patrick, with her family, with her friends. She had settled into a bigger life than I had, considering I was in prison for so long. She signed her papers with Patrick, and the moment they were signed, we left. She organized her house to be packed up, for her things to be moved, and then she told her family she would be going away for a while.
She didn’t cut contact with them; she couldn’t, I suppose.
She did however change her number so Tatum couldn’t contact her, so she too couldn’t be connected to that life. The one we left behind to find a better one.
Has it been better?
Sure, I mean we’re both happy. Jo bought a gorgeous set of apartments and she rents one out to me and lives in another. The rest she rents out to other people. California life, it’s nice. I won’t lie. Beaches and a freedom I have never felt before. It’s something else, that’s for sure.
I got a job working at a local restaurant. It’s big, flashy and overlooking the water. I’ve been there a few years, and I’m part of the family, so to speak. I’ve got friends and things feel … well … normal. All except that empty feeling I carry around with me, like a hole I haven’t quite filled.
But are we happy? Yeah, we’re happy.
As happy as we can be.
It was the best choice for us, that much I don’t doubt.
“Rest your forearm down on her, don’t be scared to lean on the customer to steady your hand,” Alarick says, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Jo nods, and keeps working, leaning over me a little more to get her angles right. I don’t mind, already I can see she’s doing a brilliant job. The outline taking form on my skin.
“So, Alarick,” I say, daring to make conversation with the monster-sized man sitting in the chair. “You’re part of a club?”
Jo pauses for a second, lifting the needle off my skin and giving me a look that warns me to stop asking questions. Shit? Am I not meant to know about that? Is it a secret? I didn’t think it was, I mean, clubs aren’t exactly secret societies, now are they?
“Yeah,” Alarick says in response, he doesn’t seem pissed, but he doesn’t seem like he wants to chat all day about it either.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
Jo nudges my foot with hers.
“Wouldn’t be there if I didn’t,” he mutters.
“Fair enough. Have you ever killed somebody?”
“Callie!” Jo gasps.
“What?” I say, shrugging. “I’m just asking a question.”
“She always talk this much?” Alarick asks Jo.
“Mostly. I’m sorry.”
Whoops.
“Have you ever killed anybody?” Alarick asks, his voice thick and strong, a real masculine voice.
He’s throwing my question back at me, as a form of sarcasm no doubt, but little does he know that I actually have killed someone.
“Yes,” I answer honestly, my voice a little less chirpy. “This girl right here.”
I nod down at my wrist, and Alarick’s eyes travel to the name Jo is currently putting on my skin, to stay for the rest of my days.
“You do it on purpose?” Alarick asks.
“No,” I answer.
“Accident?”
I nod.
“Fuckin’ horrible feelin’,” he mutters.
Ah, so he has killed someone.
That’s all he had to say.
“Well, now we’ve gotten to know each other,” Jo says, “can you be quiet so I can concentrate.”
I grin.
That’s my girl.
There she is.
There’s my Jo.
I STARE AT MY FRONT door, narrowing my eyes. I’m sure I locked it when I left this morning to get my tattoo and then go off to work. Jo lives a few apartments down, but she left before me so she wouldn’t have used her key to get in. Narrowing my eyes, I carefully push it open and peer inside, wracking my brain trying to remember if I locked it or not.
I was in a hurry, maybe I forgot.
Still, my heart races as I step into the apartment, flicking on a light. At first glance, everything seems to be exactly how I left it. I clutch my purse to my chest, my wrist letting off a dull ache as I walk in farther, peering around. I round the corner to my kitchen and stop in my tracks as I see a package and a note on my counter.
