away from him.” I heard rustling on the line and watched ahead of me as Gracey came to a door that was closed, opened it, and disappeared inside. Smith was standing at my side not even trying to hide the fact he was listening to every word of my conversation. “Heather, I have to go. Can you walk Jason to his car? I will call you later.” She didn’t respond, so I repeated her name.
“Kat arina, where are you?” It was Jason, and the sound of his voice made my knees weak and my eyes fill with water. I swallowed hard, shoving down the emotion I felt for him.
“Jason , I can’t talk.” I started moving again, my legs shaking as I approached the same door Gracey had and Smith stepped forward to open it.
“You said you were going home . I have been looking everywhere. I thought Red took you.” He was breathing hard. I peered up at Smith and backed out of the room filled with people seated around a large conference table. He followed me out, and the other Smiths eyed me cautiously as I continued down the hall to an open conference room. I moved inside, Smith closed the door, and he leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest and giving me his overconfident grin.
“Jason , I know everything; William told me.” I had a hard time with my words; I couldn’t find them. My heavy breathing was taking on the same pattern as his. “He told me…my grandfather killed Jacy. He told me about that night and how you followed my grandfather to my ballet recital. He said your plan was to make me fall in love with you,” I said in one breath, my voice becoming squeakier toward the end. I was trying hard not to cry, my stomach churning, tightening in knots. “Is it true?”
He was quiet , and I began frantically looking around the room for a trashcan. I felt acid coming up in my throat. “Yes, but it wasn’t like that. I was 17 years old when I said it.”
A small whimper escaped my lips and I covered my mouth to hide the pain. “Jason…” the tears in my eyes burned as they ran down my cheeks, “…we pretended; that’s all. It’s over.” I pushed the phone at Smith and ran for the trashcan. I heard buzzing in my ears as I dry heaved into the garbage. I tried hard to control it. Painful contractions of my stomach brought more tears as I hovered, hands gripped tightly to the trashcan, spitting the rancid acid out of my mouth. “I am tougher than this,” I told myself. I don’t have favorite things I leave without looking back. I pinched my eyes closed, remembering the rules out loud I once made for myself, “Rule one, never trust men. Rule two, never let someone listen more than they talk.” I took a deep breath to finish. “Rule three, don’t get attached…no regrets…no regrets…” I repeat over and over.
I st ood up slowly, gathering my strength with every muscle movement. Then I turned around and put the practiced smile on, straightened my shoulders, and paced back to the door. Smith was no longer in the room. I inhaled a calming breath as I opened the door and stepped into the brightly lit hall. He handed me a tissue, and I wiped my face in one swift, delicate motion and gave it back to him. My feet continued a few more steps, Smith’s stride in time with mine. He casually handed me a bottle of water and a piece of gum. I had practiced for years at hiding my feelings, at swallowing the ugly tears; I was just a little rusty. I finished my water, put my favorite pretend smile on, and walked back to the room I knew everyone was in.
Chapter Four
The Morning A fter She Left
Jason
I woke that morning in the spare bedroom of my sister’s house, recalling last night’s events. I cringed as the throbbing headache appeared between my eyes. Katarina had left me, and I knew from her warnings it was for good.
I took a long shower trying to gather all the cou rage I could to face my family…who loved Katarina and lost her just like I had. I entered the kitchen, grabbed a bowl and
“Kat arina, where are you?” It was Jason, and the sound of his voice made my knees weak and my eyes fill with water. I swallowed hard, shoving down the emotion I felt for him.
“Jason , I can’t talk.” I started moving again, my legs shaking as I approached the same door Gracey had and Smith stepped forward to open it.
“You said you were going home . I have been looking everywhere. I thought Red took you.” He was breathing hard. I peered up at Smith and backed out of the room filled with people seated around a large conference table. He followed me out, and the other Smiths eyed me cautiously as I continued down the hall to an open conference room. I moved inside, Smith closed the door, and he leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest and giving me his overconfident grin.
“Jason , I know everything; William told me.” I had a hard time with my words; I couldn’t find them. My heavy breathing was taking on the same pattern as his. “He told me…my grandfather killed Jacy. He told me about that night and how you followed my grandfather to my ballet recital. He said your plan was to make me fall in love with you,” I said in one breath, my voice becoming squeakier toward the end. I was trying hard not to cry, my stomach churning, tightening in knots. “Is it true?”
He was quiet , and I began frantically looking around the room for a trashcan. I felt acid coming up in my throat. “Yes, but it wasn’t like that. I was 17 years old when I said it.”
A small whimper escaped my lips and I covered my mouth to hide the pain. “Jason…” the tears in my eyes burned as they ran down my cheeks, “…we pretended; that’s all. It’s over.” I pushed the phone at Smith and ran for the trashcan. I heard buzzing in my ears as I dry heaved into the garbage. I tried hard to control it. Painful contractions of my stomach brought more tears as I hovered, hands gripped tightly to the trashcan, spitting the rancid acid out of my mouth. “I am tougher than this,” I told myself. I don’t have favorite things I leave without looking back. I pinched my eyes closed, remembering the rules out loud I once made for myself, “Rule one, never trust men. Rule two, never let someone listen more than they talk.” I took a deep breath to finish. “Rule three, don’t get attached…no regrets…no regrets…” I repeat over and over.
I st ood up slowly, gathering my strength with every muscle movement. Then I turned around and put the practiced smile on, straightened my shoulders, and paced back to the door. Smith was no longer in the room. I inhaled a calming breath as I opened the door and stepped into the brightly lit hall. He handed me a tissue, and I wiped my face in one swift, delicate motion and gave it back to him. My feet continued a few more steps, Smith’s stride in time with mine. He casually handed me a bottle of water and a piece of gum. I had practiced for years at hiding my feelings, at swallowing the ugly tears; I was just a little rusty. I finished my water, put my favorite pretend smile on, and walked back to the room I knew everyone was in.
Chapter Four
The Morning A fter She Left
Jason
I woke that morning in the spare bedroom of my sister’s house, recalling last night’s events. I cringed as the throbbing headache appeared between my eyes. Katarina had left me, and I knew from her warnings it was for good.
I took a long shower trying to gather all the cou rage I could to face my family…who loved Katarina and lost her just like I had. I entered the kitchen, grabbed a bowl and
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