Home to You (25 page)

Crap! I needed to know. I picked up my phone and began to type.

ME: Hey, are you busy?

My thumb hovered over
send
knowing he probably was in a meeting. That he wouldn’t have time to answer. Screw it! I hit the button and held my breath.

JAKE: I’m on break, what’s up?

Exhale.
I’d sent a dozen messages while he’d been gone—all of them silly. None as important as this.
 

ME: Did you break up with Grace?

Straight to the point. Rip it off like a Band-Aid.
My heart was in my throat as I looked down at the message. Could I really have this conversation over text? Without seeing his face or hearing his voice?
 

Delete. Delete. Delete!

ME: Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?

Maybe I was a coward, but a part of me wasn’t ready to know.  

I sent the message, my head in my hand, my heart on my sleeve, and my whole world up in the air.
 

JAKE: The shuttle’s already scheduled, don’t worry about it.
 

ME
:
Okay.

JAKE: Everything good?

ME: Of course.

Liar
.
 

After a hot shower and a pep talk about not giving up, I felt a little better and ordered my Chinese. Enough for Em and John in case they showed. I did the dishes, tidied up the kitchen, then put my camera batteries to charge for the next day’s engagement shoot. Anything to keep my mind from wandering to things I had no control over. Just as I sat down on the couch to check email, there was a knock at the door.
 

“Just a sec!” I retrieved my wallet from the nightstand and began fishing out my credit card on the way to the front door.

I twisted the deadbolt, and the door thrust toward me. My breath halted as the chain strained against its anchor. Adrenaline shot through me, my muscles tightened, and I pushed back. An arm covered in black wedged through the gap, a knee and a scruffy face shadowed by a dark hood.
 

My heartbeat slammed in my ears, the chain so taut the screws began to give, and I threw all my weight against the door. Screams and ragged breath echoed in my consciousness—some of which I recognized as my own—then suddenly the door slammed shut, jolting my body with it. I bolted the lock, my whole body trembling as I slid to the floor, pushing back on my heels until I made it to the coffee table.

I grabbed my cell and hit John’s number.
Please pick up. Please pick up.

It rang three times before he answered. “There’s someone here,” I said, my voice a ragged whisper.

“Katie? I can barely hear you. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” I shivered and I hugged my knees into my chest. My teeth chattering.

“I’ll be right there!”
 

The line went silent and I dialed nine-one-one.
 

The woman’s voice came high pitched on the first ring. “Nine-one-one what’s your emergency?”
 

I replayed the event in my mind, unable to form an answer.

“Hello?”

“ I…I just don’t know…”

“Ma’am, are you hurt?”

I scanned over my body. “I don’t think so. There was a man at the door… I…”

“Is he still there?”

“No, no… I think he’s gone.”
 

My eyes were glued to the front door as the operator continued to ask me questions. I went to the back patio—to Jake’s room to check the locks, then gave her my address. She stayed on the line talking to me, reassuring me an officer was on his way.
 
But her words did nothing to comfort me, and I began rocking back and forth on the couch as I watched the door.
 

Another knock came too soon, and I froze.
 

“Ma’am, are you okay?” the operator asked, but I couldn’t answer—couldn’t move. Seconds passed, and the knock came more insistent. “Chinese! Hello? I need a signature.” There was a muffled exchange, followed by John calling through the door. “Katie, it’s me.”
 

I stumbled to my feet, unlocked the door, and threw myself at John’s chest.

He set the bag of food on the floor and enveloped me in strong arms. “What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

My body shook as I recounted the details. We waited for the cops which seemed to take hours, but in reality only took fifteen minutes.
 

“I’m Officer Peterson, and this is Officer Gomez. Do you mind if we look around?”

I shook my head, and Officer Peterson began inspecting the broken chain, while Gomez went to check the yard.

John sat with me while I gave my statement. They rattled off questions, and I struggled to give clear answers. I thought he was Caucasian, but he wore glasses and a hood. The only other thing I saw was his hand. Big and strong, but covered in a black glove. I’d never experienced anything like this before. Never been in a fight, never even played any contact sports. The closest thing would’ve been wrestling with my brother or Jake. But they never wanted to hurt me, and when I was behind that door, I knew I was fighting for my life.
 

“There’ve been some home invasions in the neighborhood, and we think you were their next victim. You’re very lucky, Ms. McGregor.”
 

Their victim. More than one.
I nodded, my mind consumed with fear. What would have happened had I not started chaining the door when Jake left? What would they have done had they gotten inside?
 

Officer Gomez must have sensed my anxiety, because he leaned forward and spoke directly to me. “We’re taking this very seriously, Ms. McGregor. We have two cars patrolling the area, and that won’t stop until these men are caught.”

John stayed with me that night. We watched TV, but I couldn’t focus. My eyes kept shifting to the door and the chain that was practically ripped from the wall. He eventually turned the channel to some old black-and-white cowboy movie he declared to be the best story ever told. The music was soft, the absence of color oddly comforting, and not ten minutes later, I fell asleep.
 

When I opened my eyes again, John sat on the edge of the couch pulling on his boots. I shifted to sit and stared at the light streaming under the door and through the cracks of the shutters.

John looked at me as he gathered his cell phone and keys off the coffee table. “Em will be here any minute. I’d stay, but I’m the only one holding down the fort while Jake’s away.”

He looked tired.
Had he slept at all?
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” I tried for a reassuring smile, but he didn’t look convinced.

“Lock the door behind me, don’t open it until Em gets here. I’ve checked all the windows and doors—”

“John. Go. I’ll be fine.”
 

My phone chirped at the table, and I picked it up. “It’s Jake.”
 

His brows furrowed. “He’s not going to be happy about this. I don’t envy you.”

I took a deep breath. “I know.”

“I’M NOT LEAVING YOU,” JOHN insisted, before the electric drill fired again.

Em spent the whole day with me. She even came to the engagement shoot at Griffith Park. But when we got back to Jake’s, I told her to go home. That I’d be fine. That Jake would be home soon, and he’d take over as security guard. I needed to talk to him alone. I had the perfect opportunity to tell him about the break when he called that morning, but I didn’t take it. I knew once I told him, he’d flip out, and my questions about Grace would be put on the back burner. So yeah, there would be lots of talking tonight, and I didn’t want to have that kind of conversation with an audience.
 

Em was completely understanding. She handed me a keychain of pepper spray and made me promise to call if I heard anything suspicious. John, on the other hand, wasn’t so easily swayed. He came by to install a new chain lock and security hardware on all the windows. It was obvious he wasn’t planning to leave me alone anytime soon.

“I really just want some time to myself. It’s been a long twenty-four hours, and I need some rest.”

He looked up, his eyes crinkling in the corners with amusement. “Sweetheart, I know you’re gorgeous, but I think I can control myself for one evening. I just want you to be safe, that’s all.”

I rolled my eyes at the typical John innuendo, but I knew I’d scared him last night. I could see it on his face. “I
will
be safe. There are two cars patrolling the neighborhood tonight, and the officers said it wasn’t their MO—they’re not coming back.”
 

“I don’t care what they said, Katie. I’m not leaving you alone when there’s some sick fuck out there attacking women!” The drill blared to life again, anchoring another screw into the wall.
 

John was a protector, and he’d taken me under his wing. I was thankful for that, but I needed to be alone. “Jake’s coming home tonight,” I blurted out, “and I really need to talk to him...alone...” My words trailed off as my eyes shifted to the floor. I could feel him watching me even before I looked up.

 
“What’s going on between you guys?” But I heard the silent question—
and what about Grace?

All I could do was shake my head. That was the problem. I had no idea.

He grabbed his bag of hardware, and I followed after him as he moved to my bedroom to install the next lock. It wasn’t like I’d be alone long. Jake was due home in less than an hour, but if John was still here, he’d tell Jake about the break-in—our talk about Grace wouldn’t happen.
 

“Shit, Katie. I don’t like it.” He drilled the next hole, then blew out a long breath. “Call me if you hear
anything,
chain the lock when I go. Don’t answer for anyone.”

As I waited for Jake, anxiety wrapped around me and squeezed like a python to its prey. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the conversation ahead of me would be life changing. In the end, I would either have Jake in my life, or I wouldn’t.  

I had a dream that he’d walk in the door, his hair a mess from the long flight, looking tired and disheveled. He’d smile at me. That smile that lifted only half his mouth. The one that made butterflies migrate to all the private places inside me. He’d drop his bags, and I’d run into his open arms…and that was where my fantasy stopped. He’d been gone for six days, I’d run endless scenarios through my mind, but in the end of each make-believe conversation, I was filled with a sense of dread. Because what if he hadn’t broken up with Grace? Or what if he never intended to leave her at all?
 

I’d promised myself that if that was the case, I’d leave. Get a hotel, find a room to rent, do whatever I had to...but I wouldn’t stay. I couldn’t let myself be the other woman. As much as I didn’t like to admit it, I knew I wasn’t strong enough to resist the temptation of Jake. But another reason lingered in my subconscious. If Jake could do that to Grace, what would prevent him from doing the same to me? And if that was the reality, Jake wasn’t the person I thought I knew all my life.
 

Determined to push the conversation from my mind, I decided to torture myself in a different kind of way. I stalked to my bedroom, opened the closet, and stared at the pile of laundry mounted high in the corner.
I really hated laundry.

 
As I threw the first dry load onto the couch, my phone chimed to life with a new text.

JAKE: Missed my flight. Taking the red eye. Don’t wait up.

ME: What happened?

But there was no reply. A twinge of fear tickled the back of my neck. I’d sent everyone away, and now Jake wouldn’t be home for hours.
 

I continued to wash and fold laundry, the pepper spray within reach as I watched infomercials about some new kind of shampoo and a workout that would give me a perfectly sculpted ass.
 

By the time I finished the laundry, it was already past two in the morning. My eyes grew heavy, and I curled up on the edge of the couch—the pepper spray in hand—as I watched old reruns of
I Love Lucy
episodes. I wanted to stay awake, but exhaustion consumed me, and I eventually drifted off to sleep.
 

When I opened my eyes again it was ten in the morning, and a blanket covered me on the couch. Jake’s luggage sat in the middle of the living room floor, and my heart squeezed knowing he was home. I climbed off the couch, wrapped the blanket around my shoulders, and walked down the hall to Jake’s room.

The door was left open a crack, and I let myself in. He lay on his stomach in the center of the king-sized bed. His exposed back a beautiful contrast to the dark sheets thrown over his hips. All the shutters were closed, but the room was filled with the soft light of morning, giving his skin a velvety glow that took my breath away. He hugged a pillow to his chest, reminding me of a little boy, and I had to resist the urge to climb in next to him. To run my fingers across his muscles and feel his skin against mine. But it had been past two in the morning when I finally fell asleep, and he hadn’t been home yet. I knew he must’ve been exhausted, and I couldn’t bear the thought of waking him up just yet. Maybe I was procrastinating… Or maybe I didn’t want whatever was brewing between us to come to an end. Because until I knew for certain, I could hold on to the fantasy where Jake loved me, and everything was one big misunderstanding.