if I didn't come back from the woods one night. Well, maybe Edward would, but he'd lost agents before.
He'd get over it.
I'd lived through devastating loss. I didn't want anyone to feel the same heartbreak because of me. I wasn't going to quit doing what I was doing, so I was better off alone.
But after meeting Jessie and Will, watching them together, I missed Jimmy terribly. I'd loved him with all my foolish young heart. I still wasn't over him. Probably never would be. The life we'd planned to share was one I still dreamed of. When I wasn't having nightmares.
Beyond the lost dream, I'd enjoyed being with him, kissing him, touching him. I missed that closeness.
A sudden memory of Damien cupping my elbow on the porch returned, as did the tug of awareness. I hadn't had sex since Jimmy died. Obviously a bad choice considering my oversexed reactions of late, but the very thought of intimacy had nauseated me.
Until Damien Fitzgerald.
I stuffed my mouth with cookies, trying to satisfy one need with another. Didn't work, but at least I wasn't hungry anymore. For food.
To satisfy the nagging voice in my head, I ate an apple, drank a glass of milk. Though I could care less most days if I lived or died, to do my job I had to stay healthy. My body was a killing machine, and I kept it in the best condition I could manage. In addition to jogging, I did sit-ups, pull-ups, push-ups at every opportunity. Needed to work on that upper body strength.
Around 9:00 p.m., after a round of calisthenics, followed by the filing of some long-overdue paperwork, I checked my E-mail. Everything was work related.
I took a shower and changed my clothes, opting for tight jeans and a low-cut hot pink tank. I even gelled my hair and put on lipstick. If I wanted information, I might have to practice a few feminine wiles. If I remembered any.
Too bad I owned only boots and sneakers. Guys liked high heels, which was why I'd thrown all mine out the day after I was released from the psych ward.
I'd thought I was celebrating my liberation. I'd only been hiding from the truth. The doctors might have certified me sane, but I was still broken down deep where I'd never let anyone see.
"Not bad," I told the reflection in the mirror.
The hot pink Lycra tank top could probably use a necklace to spruce it up, but I'd thrown all my jewelry into the trash with my shoes.
I stuffed some money, some matches, into my pocket. I no longer owned a purse, either. My jeans were too tight to hide a gun. Damn.
I changed from sneakers to boots and concealed my knife. I wasn't going anywhere without a weapon ever again.
"Show time!" I said.
Funny, I sounded as thrilled about it as I looked.
I stepped onto the porch. They were playing jazz again. I had no idea if the tune was old or new, not a clue as to the artist's name or the title of the song. I wondered if there was anything but jazz in that jukebox.
Last night I'd felt the music out of place, but now the bluesy wail of the brass fit perfectly with the coolness of the night, the shade of the moon, the aura of expectation that hung over the forest.
Eight days, Will had said. I shivered beneath the muted silver glow.
I didn't think it was going to be enough.
Chapter 12
I was headed toward the front of the bar when I caught a hint of cigarette smoke. Not too strange, especially around here, but the scent was hot, acrid - fresh. Someone had stepped outside for a drag or two.
Why I decided to follow that smell I have no idea. Call it a hunch. I hear sometimes they're even right.
Retracing my steps, I strolled past the staircase that led up to my room, caught a billow of gray trailing from behind a shed halfway between the bar and the shack where Damien lived.
I followed my nose around the corner of the building. The spotlights didn't penetrate here, instead throwing their false sunshine over the roof and into the trees. Behind the shed, the air was cool, damp.
Here darkness reigned, the only light a flicker of silver that filtered through the branches and the tiny glowing circle of red at the end of Damien's cigarette.
He leaned against the shed, head thrown back, lips pursed to take a long drag. As he exhaled, his