Jude (Beautiful Mine #2) (22 page)

“I said ‘yes,’ ” Carys said. “I gave him my word. I can’t let him down. I can’t let Georgina down.”

“Please tell me you’re not marrying him because you don’t want to let other people down,” I scoffed. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, and I know you’re smarter than that.”

Carys concentrated on the road ahead of her, saying nothing.

“Whatever you decide,” I added, “you know I’ll support you either way.”

“I’m going to marry him,” Carys declared. “It feels like the right thing to do. All of this happened for a reason, right? I can’t squander away this beautiful life I’ve been given. And I love him.”

Ten minutes later, we’d arrived at my apartment—our old apartment.

“You should come to the Meredith’s for Christmas dinner,” Carys said. “I’d love if you would. His whole family’s going to be there, and I’m not going to know hardly anyone.”

She turned to me, her big, blue eyes quietly pleading. She never asked much from me, and I knew I owed her at least this much.

I opened my mouth to speak, racking my brain for the perfect excuse, but nothing came.

“It’s Jude, isn’t it?” she said. “You don’t want to run into him.”

I gripped the cool chrome of the door handle as my eyes fixed themselves on the dash.

“You just going to avoid him forever?” Carys asked, rolling her eyes.

“No,” I said, though I wondered if I could.

“You’re going to be seeing him a lot these next few months,” she said. “Georgina’s throwing all kinds of engagement parties and showers, and there’ll be rehearsal dinners, and all of that. But you can’t hide from Jude forever.”

“I know that.”

“Please come with me, Evie,” she begged. “I need you there. Go for me.”

JUDE

I gripped the sleeves of my sweater and pulled them down past my wrists. The Merediths were good people, but sitting at their annual Christmas dinner didn’t warrant the casual look I usually went for. With a red cashmere sweater and my hair parted on the side and slicked over with brill cream, Caroline would’ve been proud. I looked like I’d stepped out of a damn Lands End catalog.

“Jude!” Georgina floated over to me on a breeze, wrapping me in a motherly embrace. She’d been more of a mother to me in the last eight years than Caroline was my whole life. I’d have done anything for her, which was the only reason I came to her little Christmas dinner each year. I’d have much rather stayed at home, eating Chinese takeout and watching all of the Godfather movies in succession. “So glad you could make it!”

“Hi, Jude,” Zadie and Zara said practically in unison as they sat across the table and batted their lashes my way. They’d been crushing on me since they were just a couple of kids and Jax brought me home from school with him one spring break. I’d watched them grow up, and they were the little sisters I’d never had. They made no bones about how hard they crushed on me, though I thought they were more interested in making me uncomfortable and watching me squirm.

“Girls,” I said, offering a benign nod. They’d blossomed into beautiful young women over the years, and I’d break any man’s arm who ever laid a finger on either one of them.

“You came!” Carys said, sweeping up from behind me.

“I come every year,” I replied.

“It’s just nice seeing a familiar face,” she said, her eyes timidly dancing around the packed room. To her, they were all strangers. To me, they were Jax’s uncle Vance and his aunt Gladys, his chatty cousin Mia and her son T.J., his adorably grouchy grandma Edith on his father’s side and his mother’s best friend from college, who almost always wound up hitting on me by the end of the night. I saw them every year; they were my surrogate family.

I scanned the room for the millionth time since I’d arrived. Every time the doorbell chimed, my breath suspended. And every time someone walked in the room that wasn’t Evie, I downed a mouthful of Georgina’s famous spiked Christmas punch.

“I figured you’d invited Evie,” I said to Carys, eyes still scanning.

“Tried,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “She wouldn’t come.”

Stubborn as a mule.

Carys rubbed my back sympathetically before taking the seat next to me. “Where’s Sam?”

I sat up straight, staring at the bottom of my empty punch cup. “Don’t fucking know, don’t fucking care.”

Carys studied my face as she narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’s up, buddy?” Jax said, pressing his hands into my shoulders and shaking me a bit. He, too, had been liberally ingesting the Christmas punch. “Thanks for coming, man.”

Carys stared up at him, batting her blue eyes and smiling as if Jax were the most magnificent thing she’d ever seen. A girl in love. Evie had looked at me that way, once.

Jax grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into a standing position, steering her close to his side. “Gotta steal my fiancée for a minute. Still haven’t introduced her to everyone.”

I checked my watch, leaned back in my chair, and gave up my hopeless search. It was going to be a long night, and Evie wasn’t coming.

EVIE

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
floated softly from the speakers of my T.V. as I lay in bed, half asleep. I’d managed to spend my first Christmas alone—a milestone, I’d assured myself, that all young adults experienced at some point or another.

I’d Skyped with my sister earlier, and I’d called my parents. I’d wolfed down a greasy carton of chicken lo mein takeout and polished off half a bottle of merlot.

“Goodnight, Judy,” I said, as Judy Garland’s lilting voice sang me to sleep. My drooping eyelids lasted all of two minutes before I was down for the count.

I slept hard. No tossing or turning, no waking up a million times. I slept so hard, in fact, that I almost didn’t wake up when I heard someone fidgeting with the apartment door handle down the hall.

Still half asleep and groggy, I took my time climbing from my warm, soft bed and trekking down the hall. I flipped on the kitchen light by the entry and watched as my door handle jiggled. Hushed voices on the other side made my heart jump into my throat, but I couldn’t make out any words.

“Hello?” I called out. “Carys? Jax?”

Maybe they’d gotten locked out of their new place. Maybe they were coming to drop off Christmas presents at three in the morning.

Think, Evie!

My mind wasn’t functioning fast enough, and I needed to act quickly.

“Hello!” I shouted, hoping to scare them away as I ran for my cell phone. “I’m going to call the police!”

I could practically hear them laughing on the other side. My words meant business, but they came out laced with fear. I scanned my tiny apartment, desperately trying to figure out the best place to hide.

I ran to the kitchen, yanking my phone from the charger and dialing 9-1-1. I ran to the door, pressing my ear against it and listening for their voices.

Nothing.

I stood on my toes and peeked out the peephole, something I should’ve done from the start.

Again, nothing.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the female operator asked. Her voice was calm and her words were slow and drawn out, much to my dismay.

“Um, yes,” I said, attempting to catch my breath. “Someone just tried to break into my apartment. It was a couple men, I think.”

“Okay, ma’am, what’s the address?” she asked, again much too slowly.

“Oh,” I said, my brain still not functioning. My address was lost to me. I couldn’t recall it to save my life. The last three months I hadn’t needed an address, and for twenty-some years before, my parents’ house in Halverford was all I needed to memorize. I ran to the kitchen, grabbing a piece of mail from the counter and read off the address to her, feeling like a complete idiot.

“We’ll send someone out as soon as we can,” she said. “You stay calm, okay? Keep your phone by you.”

“Do you know how long it’ll be?”

“We’re looking at probably twenty minutes, ma’am.”

“Twenty minutes?! What if they come back?” My body began to tremor uncontrollably.

“That’s a typical response time for this city, ma’am,” the operator replied. “Lots of break-ins and robberies around Christmastime when people are out of town.”

“Those men will be long gone by then,” I objected. “Can’t you send someone sooner?”

“They’ll be there as quickly as possible,” she said, her voice a feeble attempt to soothe and calm me. “Just sit tight, sweetie. Keep the door locked.”

I hung up, annoyed, and double-checked the locks on the door. I paced the apartment and ran my fingers through my hair over and over again, swallowing huge gulps of air and trying to calm my racing mind. I’d never been so afraid in my life. This sort of thing didn’t happen much back home, and if it did, the cops would’ve been there in five minutes or less.

I peeked out the living room windows, peering down into the parking lot and looking for suspicious vehicles or loitering people. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Collapsing onto the sofa, I checked the time on my phone every other minute. My foot shook and I chomped on my nails. The sound of someone pounding on the door twenty minutes later was like sweet music to my ears. I sprung up and peeked through the peephole once again, which revealed two fully uniformed police officers. The echoes of their radios filled the hallway behind them as I unlocked the door.

“Hi, ma’am,” a young Hispanic officer said. “I’m Officer Rodriguez, and this is Officer Townsend. We got a call that you had an attempted break-in at this address?”

“Yes, yes, come in.” I ushered them inside as if they were two knights in shining armor sent to finally rescue me from my tower of terror.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Officer Townsend asked. His kind, wrinkly blue eyes took mercy on me and his salt-and-pepper hair peeked out from underneath his hat.

“I was sleeping, and all of a sudden, I heard weird noises coming from out there,” I said. I wrapped my arms around my body, attempting to suppress my uncontrollable shivers. “I turned on the lights and saw someone jiggling the door. I heard something, maybe tools or a crowbar. I don’t know. It was like they were trying to pry the door open.”

“Yeah, there are marks on the door,” Officer Rodriguez said. “There are obvious signs of an attempt at forced entry.”

“Do you have any idea who might have wanted to break in?” he asked. “More than likely it was random, but we need to rule out any potential, known suspects.”

“No,” I said. “Not at all. I don’t really know many people here.”

“Holidays,” Officer Townsend said, his hands resting casually on his duty belt. “Lots of people breaking in this time of year. They think people will be gone, or they think they’ll score a bunch of Christmas presents.”

“Never fails,” Rodriguez agreed. “Every year.”

“So, what now? What next?” I asked. “I want those guys caught.”

Rodriguez chuckled at my insistence. “As do we, ma’am.”

“We’ll call forensics, dust for prints, and write up a report,” Townsend said. “I hate to say this, but they probably won’t get caught. They were probably wearing gloves. Probably experienced at this sort of thing—career criminals. Unfortunately, this happens quite a bit.”

I knew I should’ve sprung for the pricier pad in the gated complex.

“So, I’m just supposed to go back to bed and rest easy knowing you guys aren’t doing a damn thing to catch those guys?” I immediately regretted my tone, but we were approaching four in the morning and irrational exhaustion was taking over my frazzled nerves.

Townsend looked at me with pity in his blue eyes. “I’m sorry. We’ll do everything we can. We promise.”

I wiped a tear that had formed in the corner of my eye.

“You have anyone you can call?” Rodriguez asked. “A friend that can come stay with you?”

I shrugged a single shoulder. I could always call Jude, and I knew he’d come running. But the image of him lying in bed next to Sam was one I couldn’t get past.

“We’ll drive by here and do checks every night for the next couple weeks,” Townsend said. “And when we’re not on duty, we’ll make sure whoever has this beat does the same.”

“Thank you,” I said, head hung low as Rodriguez closed up his little notebook and Townsend radioed for forensics.

“The guys should be here soon,” Townsend promised. “We’re going to check out the damage on the door.”

They trudged out toward the hall in their heavy black boots, inspecting the black marks and dents that mauled the steel of my apartment door.

“I’d say crowbar,” I heard one of them say.

“Mmhm,” the other replied. “They got this one pretty good.”

“How do you know they won’t come back tonight?” I called out.

“I’m sure you scared them off by calling us,” Rodriguez said. “And if they’re smart, they’d have driven back past this place by now to see our squad car parked outside.”

I settled back on the sofa, waiting for forensics to arrive.

Townsend stepped back inside, giving me the sort of protective look my father would’ve given to me in that situation. “Is there anyone you can call to maybe keep you company? It’s probably pretty scary for you to stay here alone right now.”

***

It took everything I had not to run and jump straight into Jude’s arms the moment he arrived. The sight of him standing at my door under the flickering hallway lights in his white t-shirt and gray sweats, hair disheveled and eyes half-open, was nothing short of being rescued by my own personal prince on a white horse.

“Thanks for coming,” I said, half expecting him to be annoyed. “I’m sorry I woke you this early.”

“Evie, it’s fine,” he said, stumbling inside past the cops finishing up their report in the hall.

When I’d called him a half hour before, he picked up by the third ring, asked no questions, and said he’d be over as soon as possible.

“Okay, so what happened again?” he asked, throwing himself on the sofa like a heavy sack of potatoes.

“I was asleep. I heard a noise, so I went down the hall and saw the door handle jiggling. I heard men’s voices. I yelled at them. I called the police, and they left.” I was tired of rehashing the experience over and over, so he got the condensed version.

He winced. “I bet that was scary.”

I took a seat next to him, grabbed a throw blanket, and threw it over our legs. Instantly comforted by his mere presence, my body relaxed for the first time in hours.

“I’m sorry I called you over here,” I said again.

“Stop apologizing,” he groaned. “I’m here for you. It’s not a problem.”

All the adrenaline that had rushed through my veins earlier had now ensure I was wide awake. I had no intentions or desire to go back to bed, and I was perfectly fine watching him sleep while I waited for the sun to come up. I was just thrilled not to be alone.

Jude leaned his head back onto the arm of the sofa, his neck in a crooked position as soft snores began to escape his half-opened lips.

“Jude,” I whispered. He was going to have a kink in his neck if he slept like that. “Come lie down in my room.”

His eyelids fluttered as he woke, seeming to forget where he was for a brief moment.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. You can sleep in my bed,” I whispered, grabbing his arm and pulling him up as we walked back to my room. I tore back the covers and helped him in before covering him back up and heading to leave.

“Were you going?” he asked, still half-asleep.

“Out there,” I said.

He pulled the covers open and motioned for me to come lay beside him. Under any other circumstances, I’d have balked and refused. My stomach fluttered, and without thinking twice, I willingly obliged. Under the safe cocoon of the covers, wrapped in his strong arms and trapped by the heat of his warm body, I felt safer than I had in a long time. He buried his face in the back of my neck, breathing me in, and I laid wide awake, mind wandering.

I slowly rolled to face him, studying his relaxed face. His dimples were at ease and his breathing was slow and steady, and I’d have given just about anything to kiss his soft lips. A warm, orange glow lit up the backside of the curtains, casting a halo off his flawless complexion.

I hardened my intentions, not allowing myself to move a muscle as our lips were mere inches apart. I’d have to kiss him in my dreams. I’d have to close my eyes and pretend, and that would have to be good enough.

“You awake?” Jude asked, startling me a bit.

“Mmhm.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither.”

“Sorry,” I apologized for the millionth time.

His hazel eyes fluttered open, meeting mine and making my stomach quiver as if it were the first time I’d ever seen him.

“I missed you,” he said.

I should’ve relished in that moment. I should’ve let it wash over me like a ray of warmth. Instead, I felt guilty. “Where’s Sam?”

Jude balked, a sure indication that I’d ruined a perfectly sweet moment. He rarely talked about his feelings. “I don’t know. Home?”

“Does she know you’re here?” I asked.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said, rolling over to his back. “I told you that the other night.”

Unconvinced, I said, “But you guys acted so lovey-dovey, and you looked like a couple, and—”

“We’re not,” he said, his voice full of disdain. “Believe me. We’re
nothing
.”

“Did you break up with her?” I asked.

His chest rose and fell quickly, his nostrils flaring as his jaw clenched. Without warning, he flung the covers off and flew out of my bed. I wrapped the blankets up to my neck, terrified of the monster that paced the room around me.

“Goddamnit, Evie,” he said, his fingers ruffling and tugging at his dark hair. He paced the foot of my bed before turning to face me. “I fucking love you.”

He said it. He really said it. I wasn’t dreaming.