Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
It almost feels like I’ve just stepped out of a time machine. If I just forget, for one minute, the fact that Jameson’s been gone for three years, today could basically be just another day that he and I have gone to Becky’s for a breakfast together.
He would have just ridden over on his bike, and I would have hopped on the back, thrown my arms around his waist, and held on as he weaved through the winding streets up the hills to the diner where we would spend the morning, and maybe even most of the afternoon, sipping our drinks and laughing about one of our million inside jokes.
That was one of the things I always loved about Jameson, and one of the things that he apparently still has not lost: his ability to make me laugh.
No matter what was going on with me and no matter how crappy I was feeling that day, Jameson would find some way to get a laugh out of me. Whether it was a lame dad joke, something actually witty, or just doing something physical like pulling a funny face or acting silly, Jameson would always find a way to lighten the mood. But once he left, those moments in my life left with him.
But sitting beside him now, it’s like those three years of us apart never even happened. We just fit together. Us, the two puzzle pieces.
My phone vibrates, and I check it to see Eliza texting me. I smirk and look up at Jameson.
“Your friend?”
“Oh, yeah.” I nod. “She wants to meet you.”
“Make sure I’m not a serial killer?”
“Or worse.”
“Worse?” Jameson laughs. “What could be worse? Hannibal Lecter?”
I laugh and send Eliza a text back that will hopefully calm her down for the time being. But I know it’s only a matter of time. If there’s one thing Eliza is it’s persistent. She’s going to want to meet Jameson, and there’s really nothing I can do about it.
“Yeah, I guess that could be worse,” I snicker. “But why don’t we get out of here? Maybe I can figure out some kind of way for you two to meet so she believes me that you’re a good guy.”
Jameson pulls out his wallet and leaves money for the meal on the table, along with a hefty tip for Tanya. I’m still slightly taken aback by his newfound wealth.
I throw myself on his back, giggling as we make our way to the front door. I can feel his muscles through his shirt. What a man he’s become. He reaches back and hoists me up so he’s nearly carrying me like a backpack as we step outside into the brisk autumn air, but that’s when we both hear it: the unmistakable sound of shattering glass.
“Hey, asshole!” Chad’s voice, shouting from our left. I look over and see him standing beside Jameson’s Porsche, a pipe in his hand, the driver’s side window completely destroyed. His two friends stand beside him laughing as Chad goes around to the other side and shatters the passenger-side window too with a single swing. “Nice car you’ve got here! I heard some folks talking about how impressed they were when you pulled up in it. I guess it’ll be a bit less impressive now!”
Chad’s buddies burst out laughing at their leader’s behavior. I brace myself as Chad begins walking toward us, slapping the pipe against his palm in a threatening manner. Without hesitation, Jameson steps forward and pushes me back with a gentle but firm hand.
“Jameson–” I whisper, but he cuts me off instantly.
“Stay back, Iris. It’s okay.”
I can feel the goosebumps break out all over my skin as the fear floods through me. They’re going to jump him. All three of them.
In any other town, I could just call 9-1-1, but out here no one even cares. Even if the cops were to send an officer down here to the diner, whatever is about to happen would have happened long before they arrived. All I can do is stand and watch as Chad and his two goons advance on Jameson. My Jameson.
“What we’re gonna need now are your keys, buddy,” Chad snorts. “The keys and the girl. Just hand them over so we don’t have to make this messy.”
“You guys really want the keys to a car with broken windows?” Jameson counters instantly. He doesn’t sound the least bit shaken up or intimidated. I, on the other hand, am shaking. Just seeing Chad again has brought up a lot of bad memories, and now this?
“That’s funny,” one of his two lackeys snickers.
“That where you made all your money?” the other chimes in. “Telling jokes?”
Before I can even blink, Chad lunges at Jameson with the pipe.
I want to cry out in terror, but it’s like my throat has been glued shut. All I can do is watch as Jameson ducks and Chad’s attack narrowly passes over his head, ruffling his hair like a heavy breeze has just blown up.