When she woke up the second time, Jazz smiled to see bright sunshine outside. It must be mid-morning. For all their uneasy talks and no final answers – after all was there to decide – she’d fallen asleep in his arms. Needing to be close to him and still hurting from his garbled explanation to want to promise too much.
She might be able to move forward all the way, but it would be easier to do if his brother was dead. And that made her feel terrible. Not the person she’d like to see herself as. Even if she had a way to guarantee that Billy would never be welcome back into Morgan’s life, she’d feel so much better – but how fair was that to Morgan? Billy was his only surviving family.
But she didn’t think she could look at his face and not see the damage he’d done. If she accused him of trying to cause trouble, he’d just laugh and say if what they had was real, then he couldn’t do any damage. And to a certain extent, he was right.
The room had an empty feel to it. She rolled over carefully to find the huge bed empty. She already knew that’s what she would find. For all her rebuttals about not trusting him, her body, heart, and mind were so in tune with him and his actions that she’d know when she woke up if she was alone.
The only questions were where he was and what he was up to. There were muffled noises from outside. She figured he was working on cleaning up his shop. Hopefully nothing else had been damaged.
Her bag of clothes, collected last night sat on the chair beside her. Throwing back the covers, she gingerly moved enough that she could reach it. Pulling out clean clothes, she dressed as quickly as she could. Her hair, she twisted into a ponytail and clipped back. The t-shirt was more difficult, but eventually she was fully dressed in clean clothes. Now if she had a toothbrush, she was all set. She found it in the bottom of her bag along with her cosmetic bag.
Feeling much better, she now made her way downstairs, following the smell of fresh coffee. So Morgan hadn’t been up all that long. Or he’d been up for a hell of a long time and was already on his second pot.
The pot had just finished dripping. She poured herself a cup, found his sitting close by, and filled it too. Then she walked through the living room to the garage. She could hear music rolling through the air. Country music. She grinned. Like he needed to listen to songs about lost loves.
Her phone rang as she entered the garage.
Morgan was bent over the workbench drilling into a pipe. She placed his cup down, smiled up him as he looked up at her, and pulled out her phone. Roxy.
She sighed. “Hey Roxy.” Carrying the phone and the conversation back outside, she sat on the stairs to stare out the back yard. Morgan had a large green space surrounding a set of big ass trees.
“What the hell happened?” Roxy snapped. “What’s going on?”
“So much and not enough,” Jazz said. In a quiet voice, she brought her best friend and partner up to date.
Roxy gasped, and shock quickly turned to horror when she realized how close Jazz had come to getting seriously hurt again. Then Jazz told her about Morgan.
“He what? Why the hell would he do that?” she exploded. “His brother is such a user.”
“We all know that, but we don’t have the emotional garbage that comes with being siblings, and not when there are only the two of them left in the world. Besides, Morgan is a hard ass in every area but his brother.”
“Billy really is his weakness, isn’t he?” Roxy fell silent for a long moment. “Is it okay to hope that is him lying in the morgue? He’s done nothing but ruin your life for over a year now. It needs to be over.”
“I know. But I really don’t…” she lowered her voice, “want to go through what I went through already.”
“But neither can you walk away from Morgan, can you?” Roxy’s voice was gentle. Caring.
“Not if I can have that same relationship back again.”
She sighed. “Do you trust him?”
“In many ways, yes. In others, no. I’m also afraid. He left me once. What’s to stop him from doing it again?”
“Love. And the realization of what he’d done last time for his idiot brother.”
“So if Billy is dead and out of the picture, then maybe I trust him,” she said softly. “But having seen the damage Billy could do…”
“Morgan won’t fall that again.”
“No, but he shouldn’t have fallen for it the first time,” Jazz said bitterly.
“I agree, but in a way, I think Morgan is as much a victim here as you are. Billy knew how to get him. How to twist him, use him, and throw him away.”
“That doesn’t excuse what he did,” Jazz said flatly.
“No,” Roxy said gently, “It does make it more understandable.” She continued in a brisk tone, “And I have to admit I don’t hold that against him. What he did was stupid and hurtful, but…”
“I know.” Jazz groaned. “That’s why I’m still here at his house.”
“And in his bed…” Roxy asked with humor threading through her voice, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah, so nice to have that back…” Jazz laughed, knowing Roxy would understand.
“Damn, you are one lucky woman.”
Jazz’s gaze strayed to where Morgan stood, trying to pry something apart on his workbench. His biceps bulged and his t-shirt stretched across his chest. Damn, even covered in grease and dirt, he could melt her insides.
“Ah, Jazz? You there?” Roxy’s voice pulled her back to the present. “Jazz?”
“Yeah,” she cleared her throat and her mind that had filled with memories of that sexy body she knew so well. “I’m here.”
“Damn girl. What is he doing, modeling nude in front of you?” Her laughter made Jazz grin, but her own voice was low as she said, “He never had to do that for me, you know that. He’s dynamite in jeans or without.”
“Yeah, you two were always hot.”
“It was more than that… at least I thought it was.”
“It was. Trust that whatever you went through had a reason – if for no other than it was to make your stronger.”
Roxy and her damn metaphysical self-help stuff. She’d gotten into it a few years ago and unlike her other short-lived interests, this one had grabbed hold. Sometimes it even made sense. This time, there was no making sense of any of it.
“Just in case, Roxy, you take care. If you see Billy or hear from him, then let us know.”
She heard a vehicle drive up. She twisted so she could see the driveway and the cruiser that pulled up. “Gotta go Roxy, the cops are here.”
*
Morgan turned at the sound of a vehicle. Sure enough, it was the same officer, Constable Shaun something. Good, maybe he had some news. He dropped his tools on the workbench and turned to greet the man.
Seeing movement on the side, he watched Jazz walk over, her phone in one hand and coffee cup in the other. He smiled and held out a hand. She picked up her pace and grasped his hand. Together, they walked over to the policeman.
“Constable. I hope you have some news for us.”
“I do, but not necessarily good news. We haven’t found the bike, and there are no residents in the building with a bike registered to them.” He checked his notes. “And we caught up with the pizza delivery. Some kid paid him 20 bucks to put the picture in the box. The kid was here when the driver arrived.”
“So, spur of the moment thing?”
The cop nodded. “Probably planned to put it in the mailbox, but when the driver showed up…,”
“Crap,” Jazz said. “How can that be?”
“It doesn’t mean that they don’t live there. There are subleases happening all the time, friends visiting, etc. But as far as official means, there isn’t anything to point in one direction.”
Morgan watched as Jazz dropped his hand and walked several steps away. She stood dejected, hands on her hips, her head down.
“Is there anything we can do?”
The cop shook his head. “No. We’re doing it all. I do need you to give us a statement. If you’ve got time now…”
Morgan nodded. “Let’s go inside. We can get this done fast, I hope.”
“Ten minutes.”
Morgan ushered the cop ahead of her. “Let’s get this over with.”
Inside the kitchen, he poured coffee for the visitor and settled the three of them at the table. “What do you need from us?”
In a steady stream of questions, the constable led through the process of giving a statement. When they were done, the statements signed, he stood up and said, “Good enough. Stay in touch and stay safe.”
With that, he left.
Jazz walked out to the end of the driveway to see the cruiser leave. Morgan placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Come on in.”
“I’ll be fine. I just wanted to stand out here for a few moments. Breathe the fresh air.”
“I understand, but it’s not a good idea.”
She stared at him in confusion, then he saw the understanding hit her consciousness. And she nodded. With one last glance at the wide-open block, she turned and let him lead her back inside.