Page 72 of Holiday Star
I ignore him, stalking past each day, and he leaves me alone. Until one stormy morning when he falls in step several paces behind me as I walk to the hospital. He follows me home the same way that night.
The next morning, he moves in close, and I whirl around. “Go away or I’ll call the police,” I spit out, my hands balling into fists.
Smoking Man is unfazed by my threats. Using two fingers, he pulls the cigarette out of his mouth. A smoky tendril curls from its tip. “There was a mugging on this block last week. Young lady like you.”
“So, you’re what,” I tilt my head, my voice rising in disbelief, “protecting me?”
Smoking Man’s eyes shift away as he takes in a long drag and blows it back out of his nose.
Glaring at his cigarette, I warn, “You shouldn’t smoke so much. Those things will kill you. I see it every day.”
He shrugs his shoulders unevenly, the right rising more than the left. “At least it’ll be a death of my choosing.”
I don’t bother telling him that working in a hospital has taught me that we rarely get to handpick the method of our death. Everyone thinks it’s going to be lung cancer, but it’s the drunk driver instead. That prostate cancer is easy to treat, but all those years of eating greasy food brings on the widow-maker heart attack. Death can be as sneaky as love. You never see either one coming.
Now that I’m facing him, it strikes me that I’ve seen this man before, but that can’t be right. I sift through my memories until it hits like a bolt of lightning. “You!” I cry out. My finger points accusingly. “I saw you that night. At Shooter’s.” I remember it, the sharp-faced man smoking a cigarette outside the door of the bar as I exited with Jax hot on my heels.
He doesn’t deny it, only says nonchalantly, “That picture was some of my best work.”
Rage surges, burning through my veins. It’shisfault, this man. All the things I lost. Caleb. His love. I draw in a deep breath. “Explain one thing,” I grind out. “How’d you know Caleb would be there that night?” It’s been driving me crazy, the not knowing.
A glint appears in his eye, almost like pity, but gone so quickly I can’t be sure. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what I want,” I practically shriek at him.
The Smoking Man remains calm, probably used to being yelled at. I’d guess it’s a hazard of his job. He answers my question with some of his own. “Who knew Caleb was with you? Who knew he might come that night?”
“No one,” I insist. Hand to my forehead, I rub it, thinking back to those days in my mother’s house. “I mean, one person knew.”
He gives me a knowing look, and my heart sinks down to my feet.
Jenny.
43
That night, I call Jenny.
She answers with her usual cheerfulness, her tone chirpy. It makes the boulder in my chest that much heavier.
“Did you tell anyone that Caleb was at my house?” I try to keep the accusation out of my voice but can’t.
There’s a long silence when all I hear is her breathing. It goes on for so long that I already know what she’ll say.
“It might have slipped out to Sarah—just once.”
My eyes squeeze closed, trapping any tears that want to escape.
Her words become harried. “I’m so sorry, Gwen. You know how I get. I was talking about you, and, before I knew it, I mentioned him. I didn’t mean to. Is that how the paparazzi found out Caleb would be at Shooter’s? Did I ruin everything for you?”
There’s panic in her voice, the choked sound of her crying.
I don’t even know how to respond.
I told her. Sheknewhow crucial it was to keep Caleb a secret. We had multiple discussions about it. And yet, she went ahead and told the secret to Sarah. It was an accident, a momentary lapse. I get that. Jenny would never knowingly hurt me. But that doesn’t make it any less devastating.
“Please,” she begs. “Please talk to me. I’m so sorry. I had no idea it would turn out like it did.”
My chest aches so badly that I look down, expecting to see a gaping hole where my heart should be. “I needed you to be on my side, needed you to keep it a secret,” I tell her. “Maybe it was unfair of me to ask that of you. And I totally understand that if it wasn’t you, eventually someone else would have found out. I get that, but dammit, Jenny, losing Caleb has nearly killed me. Now I can’t think of that pain without also thinking of you. It’s all tied up together.”
