Rosemary Beach: When I'm Gone Part 7

"Oh, G.o.d," I managed to whisper.

"Do you know Melanie and Jacob Sanders? They live three doors down from you."

I shook my head no. I didn't know anyone who lived around me. Except Jimmy. I had kept myself closed off from everyone else. But three doors down, there was a married couple. I had met the husband, unfortunately. He had given me the creeps. I had been walking to the car one day, and he'd whistled and called my a.s.s "luscious."

"I don't know them. I only know Jimmy . . . Jimmy Morrison. He lives in apartment two D. He was just here before . . . Oh, G.o.d! Jimmy was just here. He had to walk to the stairs to get back to his apartment. It happened right after he left."

The cop's expression softened. "Jimmy Morrison is fine. He's the one who called in the disturbance. He saw most of it happen and is currently giving his statement. He knew the victim."

My phone was ringing. Mase was calling me back.

"If you remember anything, please call the office. Jimmy will have confirmed that he'd just left your apartment. If he doesn't, we will be back to talk to you. I do need your name, for the record."

"Reese Ellis," I replied, as my phone stopped ringing and started back up again.

"Thank you, Miss Ellis."

I nodded and closed the door as the cop walked to the next door. I bolted it before answering my phone. "The cops were here," I told Mase. "They asked me a few questions."

"You're OK." He let out a sigh of relief.

"Yes. Jimmy saw it. He's with the police now, giving his statement. I'm not totally sure what happened; the police didn't even tell me who the victim was, but a married couple a few doors down were involved somehow. All I did was hear the shots and the screams. Nothing more. But Jimmy was out there. He could have been shot."

"But he wasn't. Don't think about that," Mase said in a firm voice.

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. He was right. I didn't need to dwell on something that didn't happen.

"Did you lock your door?" he asked.

"Yes, it's bolted."

"When Jimmy is done with the cops, he'll come tell you what happened. Just sit down and relax. I'll talk to you until then. You're going to be fine. I know you're upset and scared."

Just hearing his voice calmed me. I sat down on the sofa and watched the lights continue to flash outside.

"Read to me, Reese. It will take your mind off this."

I wasn't sure I could. My vision had totally blurred when I was upset earlier. Focusing didn't work when you were panicking. "I don't know if I can," I admitted.

"Just try," he said gently.

Because I wanted to please him. I tried.

Mase.

Listening to her soft voice was the only thing that could calm me down. I was standing on my front porch with my boots on and my keys in my hand. When she hadn't called me back and wouldn't answer her phone, I'd been ready to go after her.

If she hadn't answered that last ring, I was going to call Grant and Rush to check on her, and then I was going to ask my father to order a private jet immediately and fly my a.s.s to Rosemary Beach. h.e.l.l, my knees had almost buckled with relief when she'd finally answered the phone. I wanted Jimmy to get his a.s.s to her and tell her what happened so she would know. And so she wouldn't be alone.

But until then, I wasn't letting her go. f.u.c.k, I wouldn't let her go once Jimmy got there. I was seriously close to calling Rush and Grant to stay with her until I could get there.

She was struggling more tonight than she had in weeks as she read to me. I hated the thought of her being scared and alone. I also hated the fact that she lived in that apartment by herself. It wasn't safe. This proved that.

"Jimmy's at the door," she said.

"I want to hear what he has to say," I told her. I didn't want her hanging up on me.

"OK. I'll just, um, set the phone down."

I waited as she opened the door. Jimmy asked her if she was OK, and it sounded like he was hugging her. She let out a small sob and asked him if he was OK. Then he was a.s.suring her that he was fine.

"What happened?" Reese asked him.

"I don't know the full story. When I was headed to the stairs, I heard wheels screech, and then I heard Jacob screaming at Melanie that she was a s.l.u.t. Melanie began calling him names, too, and then he just pulled out a gun from his waistband and shot at her. She took off running and screaming, and I was trying frantically to dial nine-one-one when the second round went off. I saw . . ." Jimmy paused. "I need to sit down. s.h.i.t, I'm gonna need a stiff drink tonight."

"You don't need to be alone," Reese told him.

"My man is on his way. He'll hold me tonight," Jimmy replied.

"Good."

That didn't help me. I didn't like the idea of Reese being alone tonight, either. I also f.u.c.king hated that she was on the first floor. It was dangerous down there.

"I saw her go down. She just crumpled to the ground. There was a pool of blood around her, and she wasn't moving. It wasn't the smart thing to do, but I went running toward her. And then the b.a.s.t.a.r.d fired at me. He missed and took off, but I don't know if I'll ever be able to get that image out of my head of a gun pointed at me."

s.h.i.t.

"Oh, no, Jimmy!"

"The guy in her apartment that she'd been having an affair with took off running in his underwear like a punk-a.s.s. The cops caught him, though. He didn't get far. He was scared s.h.i.tless. They got Jacob, too. He stuck around too long, then ran his car into a ditch going too fast around a curve. The cops got him as he was running away from the car. This place was a f.u.c.king circus. People opening their doors and screaming and yelling. No one was trying to help; they were just panicking. He just . . . killed her. Shot her dead. d.a.m.n psycho. They'd been married for three years."

"That's awful." Reese's voice was off. She was upset. And he was going to f.u.c.king leave her alone by herself while he cuddled up with his boyfriend?

"I've got to go get a shower and some tequila. Anything to wash this s.h.i.t out of my head. You stay bolted up. You'll be safe, though. The cops will be all over this scene most of the night. It's fine. But if you need me, just call."

I heard Reese stand up and follow him to the door. "I'm glad you're OK," she said, and her voice cracked.

"Ah, girl. I'm fine," he a.s.sured her. "Just f.u.c.ked-up in the head after watching that. I wasn't close to Melanie. Hardly knew her, but d.a.m.n, it doesn't matter. Seeing a person die is tragic. So f.u.c.king tragic."

They said their good-byes, and I could hear Reese locking the door as the bolt slid into place.

"Hey. Did you hear everything?" she asked me. There was a tightness in her voice. Like she was trying not to cry.

"Yeah. That's messed up. But it wasn't a random act of violence. So no one is coming back to fire any more shots. You're safe," I a.s.sured her.

She didn't reply right away. I wondered if she was afraid to sleep now. After all that, she needed someone to be there with her and hold her.

"Go get ready for bed. Lay the phone down. I'll wait. Then take me to bed with you. I'll be right here at your ear. We can talk until you fall asleep. OK?"

"OK . . . you don't mind doing that?"

I wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight. I'd be worried about her. But she didn't need to know that. "I want to. Now, go get ready for bed. I'll wait."

"Thank you," she whispered.

While she got ready I put the phone on speaker and slipped it into my pocket, then headed inside. I put my beer can into the recycling bucket and washed up a few items in my sink.

Once I had that done, I went to my room. I brushed my teeth and stripped off the clothes I'd thrown on when I had been terrified for Reese and ready to go after her. Then I crawled into bed. Within minutes, her voice came back on the line.

"I'm back," she said, and I could hear the covers rustling.

I put one hand behind my head and lay on my back, staring at the ceiling fan in my room. Images of Reese in her bed were affecting me. I should have felt really d.a.m.n guilty about it, but I couldn't help it.

"You want to read to me some more?" I asked, trying to think of anything to say to get my mind off what she was wearing.

"No . . . not really. My brain is too tired to read," she said. She was moving around again. I could hear the m.u.f.fled sounds of her sheets.

"What do you wear to sleep?" I asked her, before I could stop myself. I had to know. It was driving me crazy.

She let out a little laugh. "Nothing special. Just cutoff sweatpants and a tank top. It's soft and old, and I love to sleep in it."

I really wanted to see that soft, old tank top on her. The image in my head was wreaking havoc with my d.i.c.k. It had stirred to life. But I had asked her what she was wearing, so I had brought this on myself. "What color is it?" I asked, wincing at my words. Dammit, what was I doing?

"Pink . . . or it was. It's faded now. Not so pink anymore," she replied hesitantly.

"Sounds comfortable."

"Mmm-hmm," was her only response. I started to change the subject for my own sake, but I didn't get a chance. "Do you just sleep in your underwear?" she asked, so softly I almost missed her question.

I thought she'd known just how naked I slept after I'd come out into the hall wrapped in a sheet the first time we met. "No," I replied, surprised that she'd asked me.

"Oh. I just a.s.sumed that since you came running into the game room in your boxers when I cut my hand, you must sleep in them."

A grin tugged at my lips. I'd s.n.a.t.c.hed those out of my duffel and jerked them on while running down the hall toward her that morning.

"I put those on before coming to check on you," I explained.

A quick intake of breath was her only response.

"Sleeping naked ain't so bad. You should try it sometime," I teased, trying to lighten the mood, since she seemed at a loss for words.

Then she giggled. Mission accomplished. "I'm not sure I could do that," she said in an amused tone.

I was sure she could. My mind was playing with images of her doing just that. Then I joined her in my imagination, and it got even more interesting. Those long legs and that little freckle tucked below her a.s.s would be the first things I explored. An image of her on my bed, with her a.s.s stuck up in the air so I could nuzzle and kiss that freckle, sent a hard throb to my c.o.c.k.

I wrapped my hand around it and squeezed, trying to calm it the f.u.c.k down. It was hot to the touch and wasn't going to cool itself anytime soon. Especially with Reese's voice heating me up.

"Reese, give me just a minute. I'll be right back," I told her.

"Oh, OK," she replied.

I hated that I was this f.u.c.king weak, but I had to get control of myself now if I was going to keep her on the phone until she went to sleep. I had to either jump into a cold shower or finish this fantasy in the privacy of my bathroom. I was in a hurry, and the image of Reese in my bed with her juicy round a.s.s in the air was teasing me.

I closed the bathroom door, walked over to the wall, and leaned against it, then took my throbbing d.i.c.k in my hand again. Slowly, I stroked it, as I licked Reese's a.s.s and freckle, then shoved her legs apart and felt her hot p.u.s.s.y slick to my touch. My other hand would caress her a.s.s, then slide up until it felt the hard nipples and heaviness of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s hanging down toward the mattress.

She would cry out as I slipped my tongue over her tender flesh, and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s would sway and bounce in my hand. f.u.c.k, that was all it took. I cried out as my release pumped out of me and covered my hand, still fisted tightly around it.

Since meeting Reese, I had been doing this more and more. I had tried a few cold showers, but I f.u.c.king hated them. This was the easier solution. And the less painful one. Plus, my fantasies about Reese were getting better and better.

Reese.

Jimmy came by the next morning to tell me he had called in sick for the rest of the week and was going on a mini-vacation to get away from everything. He hadn't slept last night, and he was weepy today. His main concern had been me getting to work. Although I had a.s.sured him that I could walk, he said he wouldn't be able to relax and get his mind off everything if he was worried about me walking. So he had a guy he trusted come pick me up and take me home on the days I worked. He a.s.sured me that he'd known this guy forever, and he was a close friend of Mr. Kerrington. I had to promise him that I would ride with his friend, Thad, before he would leave. Because I was worried about him, I said OK. But this wasn't something I wanted to do at all. I would have much rather taken a cab. But Jimmy refused to accept that.

So now I stood outside my apartment waiting for a "black BMW with shiny silver wheels you can't miss" to drive up. Jimmy had also said that Thad had long blond hair and looked like he belonged on a surfboard.

Yellow crime-scene tape surrounded the door and sidewalk three doors down. I cringed at the thought of the horror that had happened. Jimmy had seen it all. I worried about him, too. How could he get that out of his head and move on?

Last night, I had drifted off to sleep while Mase had put me on hold. It surprised me, really. Just knowing that he was there and wasn't leaving me had been enough to relax me. Then there had been the strange conversation we'd had about what we were sleeping in. He slept naked. The image of that man naked excited me. Which was going to be awkward when I had to see his face again.

The slick black BMW was hard to miss as it pulled into the parking lot. Even without seeing the wheels or the blond guy in the driver's seat, I knew it was him. No one in this apartment complex drove a car like that. I pulled my backpack up onto my shoulder and took a deep breath. Jimmy wouldn't send someone to get me who was dangerous. I could do this. I could.

The driver's-side door opened, and a tall guy with blond hair that curled just below his ears smiled at me. He had dark sungla.s.ses on, so I couldn't see his eyes. However, he seemed safe. His smile was friendly, and again, Jimmy trusted him.

"Are you Reese?" he asked.

I nodded and stepped off the sidewalk and toward his car.

"Only Jimmy," Thad said, shaking his head and chuckling.

I didn't ask him what that meant. "Thanks for driving me. I'll pay for your gas," I told him as I got into the car.

Thad frowned. "Uh, no, you won't. I can give a beautiful girl a ride to work and back."

I didn't tense when he called me beautiful. That was a positive sign. I was progressing. Not all men were bad. Jimmy, Mase, and Dr. Munroe had taught me that. Then there was the way Grant Carter adored his wife and child. My thoughts about men were changing. The longer I stayed in Rosemary Beach, the more I saw the good side of humanity.

"Did Jimmy tell you to take me to the Kerrington Club? I can walk to work from there." Lately, Jimmy had been taking me to the houses I worked at instead of letting me walk. It was something I knew Mase had mentioned to him.