Heart in Wire: A by a Thread Companion Novel (13 page)

“Wait, what? Y-you thought we fucked?” Patrick sputtered with all the curveballs she was throwing at him. “Why didn’t you just ask?”

“You…” she started, then clamped her mouth shut. “You’re a fucking liar, Patrick,” she said softly, which was worse than when she was yelling. She shook her head and then started packing. “I see you.”

“Mil, now you’re not making any sense.” Patrick was surprised Millie thought he and El had been together in any way; this was the first he was hearing about it. “Millie, I couldn’t tell El because the information about Jamie being undercover…it was top secret and…”

“Ummmm, are you serious? You didn’t tell her about Jamie because it was top secret?” Millie glared at him. “She almost drank herself to
DEATH,
Patrick! And you just watched.”

“I…” This was true. “I-I didn’t just watch,” he stammered. No one had called him on the carpet like this since his mother, years ago.

“YOU WATCHED!” she yelled and pointed her finger at him accusingly. “You watched as she drank herself into oblivion and then got a tattoo that’s…” Her voice broke with emotion.

Patrick hung his head; he hadn’t allowed himself to think about that first year in a very long time. He hated what he’d done to El, hated that he could’ve stopped her from feeling like she was drowning.

“You watched as she shut everyone out, as she ignored life.” A tear fell down Millie’s face and she hurriedly wiped it away. “You watched, Patrick. And you did
nothing.
”

“Enough!” he demanded.

Her eyes snapped to him.

“I did what I thought I had to. It was top secret and I was told I couldn’t tell her. I thought about it every fucking day. I thought about it when she crawled into bed with me because she was having nightmares. I grieved about it when I had to carry her out of the bar on her birthday. But I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out how to tell her and keep my fucking job.” He pleaded with her to understand. He needed her to understand. He needed someone to understand.

“Oh really, so you didn’t tell anyone about Jamie?” she asked, looking out into the living room.

Patrick felt like he’d been hit by a Mack truck. She was right. He’d told Billy and they’d never told El. He’d broken the rules, the law, to tell his best friend, but never allowed himself to do that with her. When he’d finally decided to tell her, he was afraid he’d lose her, like he did when she found out Jamie was gone. He couldn’t lose her, but he did anyway.

Millie examined his face and he felt vulnerable, which he didn’t appreciate. “I don’t like it,” she whispered as she sank to the bed. “I don’t like lies, Patrick.”

Patrick nodded. “I hate it.”

“Do you lie to me?” she asked, changing the subject to the present.

Oh shit. Really, is she asking me that?
“Millie, baby, I only lied to El because my job depended on it, I swear.”

Bob and weave.

Chapter Nine

PRETTY GOOD FOR A DEAD MAN

Patrick walked back to his desk after a meeting on the massive clusterfuck where it was discovered that guns confiscated by the ATF were now back out on the street. The higher ups were baffled and fuming, looking for people to blame. The meeting that started at 9:00 am just ended and it was after 5:00 pm. It took all day for all the bloated heads to talk about what a fuck up everything was, but not one of them had a solution or suggestion on how to figure out how this happened. He couldn’t even imagine an ATF agent selling the guns they’d confiscated back to criminals, it was against everything they stood for as an agency.

He fell into his desk chair and was sifting through emails when a familiar figure sat on the edge of his desk. Pushing his chair back a bit, he looked up at Jamie.
Motherfucker
.

“Patrick.” Jamie smirked down at him. He was looking very dapper in new cargos and a new ATF polo, his hair freshly cut and all of his bruises healed.

“Jack,” Patrick replied through gritted teeth.

“Have you talked to her?” Jamie began picking up papers on Patrick’s desk and examining them.

“I talk to her every day, you know that.” Patrick smiled, grabbed the papers out of his hands, and looked around at the other agents near him.

“Any word on when I can get my…what’s mine?” Jamie didn’t look Patrick in the eye, but stared out at the rows and rows of cubicles that lined the room.

“And what is that again?” Patrick asked sarcastically.

Ignoring Patrick, Jamie continued to stare. “You know, it turns out I not only have information on the group that was moving guns and drugs in Montana, but I may have information on other guns being moved.”

Patrick blinked.

“You know, the ones that are now subject to a Congressional investigation.”

So Jamie’s going to be a witness in a bigger case than the Montana one.
Fuck
. Patrick’s insides seized; there was no way the FBI would touch him now.

“I was so naïve when I went under,” Jamie continued haughtily, “but a really good friend of mine told me to get evidence and he’d help me. I held up my end of the bargain.”

Patrick’s head hung down in shame.

“Pretty good for a dead man, huh?” With that, Jamie hopped off Patrick’s desk and walked down the rows of cubicles, speaking to everyone like some damn celebrity.

Chapter Ten

PLAN C

He was planning, putting things together in his mind. It was difficult to be juggling all of these thoughts in his head at once. He was good at compartmentalizing things, so that’s what he was trying to do, put all of these issues into their own boxes. El had come to him, asking him for help, and damn it, he was going to help her. He owed her that much, not to mention the fact he had stopped fighting his love for her. The thought niggled in the back of his mind that his help may win her over, that it might even make her fall into his arms where she should be. The last thought rose in the air and disappeared into the clouds.

Patrick was sitting on the back porch with a beer. He and El were working together to finalize her plan, which was to get the FBI to arrest Jamie. Patrick prayed to God that would happen, but he knew in his gut it wouldn’t. He and Billy were planning to leak some information in Montana and hope that it got to where it needed to be. Plan C was his own plan; he hadn’t yet told the people he needed to about the plan to see if it actually would work, but it was brewing just the same. One of the people he would need he’d never even spoken to, other than the first night he’d met him. Patrick didn’t know how well received a call from him would be.

Patrick’s arms wrapped around Millie as they pulsed to the beat of the hip hop music at the dance club. The three of them were there celebrating Millie and El graduating from law school. He took his eyes from Millie and searched the dance floor for his roommate. She was entangled with a gigantic guy with tattoos all over him. He looked familiar for some reason. He felt Millie’s breath on his ear.

“We need to grab a cab!” she yelled so that he could hear her over the music.

He nodded; he was more than ready to go. Millie walked to the door and Patrick approached El and her dance partner. They might as well be fucking on the dance floor.

Patrick touched her back, hot and slick from sweat. She looked back at him and smiled; he motioned for the door and then turned, heading to find Millie. He watched El rebuff the guy she was dancing with out of the corner of his eye, relaxing when he felt her hand in his as she followed him toward the door. Millie and El waited on the sidewalk while he tried, unsuccessfully, to hail a cab.

“Fuck,” he muttered and looked back at his girls on the sidewalk. Each was a sweaty mess.

“Let me handle this,” El said mischievously and walked over to where a few Town Cars and limousines were idling, waiting for their fares to come out.

Millie looked at Patrick, obviously amused. He put his arm around Millie and watched El as she leaned into the window of the first limo.

“What is she doing?” Millie laughed.

“No idea, babe.” Patrick nuzzled behind her ear and Millie giggled again.

El then took her shirt off and waved them over to the limo. They began walking the distance to where El was standing, Millie curious, Patrick frustrated. Why the hell was she taking her shirt off? She leaned back into the window for few seconds before re-emerging, smirking at them.

“Your friend is fucking nuts,” Patrick pointed out, waving at El.

Millie hit his arm playfully. “My friend?”

“Yep, she was forced on me,” he deadpanned.

“Low blow, dude,” Millie replied.

What’s going on?” Patrick asked as they approached El, who was putting her tank top back on.

“Just get in the fucking limo.”

El jumped in the limo. Patrick let Millie get in first and then followed her in. Right as Patrick got settled, the door opened and the guy El had been dancing with slid into the car and sat right next to El. Again, Patrick had a feeling he knew him from somewhere, he just couldn’t figure out where.

“So, I hear I’m taking you home and my driver has your phone number. It must be my lucky night.”

El’s face showed surprise as the man obviously ogled her. The man then looked at Patrick and Millie and asked where they were headed.

Patrick’s jaw clenched. “We’re going to Old Town,” he answered, his voice tense.

Millie cleared her throat at Patrick’s harshness. “I’m Millie, this is Patrick, and that’s Stella.”

“My driver just sent me a picture of your boobs, Stella.” The guy smiled and Patrick wanted to punch his white teeth in, but he was pretty sure this guy could handle himself.

The guy draped his arm around El’s shoulders and showed her the picture on his phone of her boobs. She fake laughed, uncomfortable. “So Stella, I’m going to take your friends home and then get Jimmy to take us to my hotel. You on board with that?”

“No,” Patrick answered for her at the same time she agreed. He was pissed; she was being stupid.

The limo dropped them off at the house and Patrick held Millie’s hand as they made their way up the steps. Patrick was trying to keep his mind off what was happening in that limo. He was pretty sure the guy was Jesse McIntyre, who used to play with the Redskins. El was a big girl and could take care of herself, right?

“What’s wrong?” Millie asked as they walked into the kitchen and she grabbed a bottle of water.

“That’s just not like her. She doesn’t just hook up with people.”

Millie cocked her head to the side in a question. “She’ll be fine. She needs to let go. The whole George thing threw her for a loop. How do you get over someone? Get under someone else,” Millie recited happily.

Patrick shrugged and fought the emotion tickling his brain telling him he didn’t want her under anyone else.

“I’m getting in the shower. Care to join me?” Millie asked in sing-song.

“I do have an area in particular that needs a good scrubbing,” he answered, following her to the tiny bathroom. He was glad Billy was back home in Pittsburgh for the weekend.

Jesse would be essential to his plan, a plan he wouldn’t give El all the specifics on until it was too late, a plan that, if it was needed, would change everything, for him and for her. Could he do what he was planning to if it came to down to it? He just didn’t know.

The door opened and El walked out on the back porch, sitting in the chair facing him. Her hand was in a cast.

“I need to talk to you,” she said as she took the beer from his hand and took a sip. “Where’s Mil?”

“She had some lobbying thing on the Hill, why?” Patrick didn’t like the look in El’s eyes. It was feral and scared, two emotions she didn’t have the luxury of being right now.

“I’m…” she started and then stopped.