Page 10 of Trip Through Your Wires

Throwing my car into park, I shut off the engine, push open the driver’s side door, and hop out. I don’t bother with my bag or gear. She’s inside. I can feel it. But I can also feel something’s wrong, and I need to find out what it is so I can fix it and make it better just like I have done since last summer.

Chapter 2

Jenica

I have no idea what’s happening on the episode of Days of Our Lives that’s playing. I’m too anxious to worry about whatever havoc Stefano DiMera is yet again wreaking on the people of Salem. I’d much rather be watching MTV, but since the living room VCR is where Ellery records her soaps so Cruz can record Sportscenter in their room, my choices are limited. Who knows, maybe the Devil will show up and shake things up a little.

It’s fitting, really. My life feels as if it’s about to become a soap opera thanks to the conversation I overheard this morning between my brother and his best friend. Dead body found on the beach, with a bullet in the cavity? It’s classic daytime TV. Maybe even the Devil’s handiwork. One thing’s for sure—it’s an eerie coincidence that hits too close to home.

I didn’t know the whole story. I only overhead bits and pieces in passing. But what I did hear had freaked me out enough to send me racing back to Nana’s once my shift was over, finish packing my bags, and fly up here a day early.

It was Royce. It had to be. The similarity was too great. And if it was him, the past wasn’t going to just smack me in the face, but my brother as well. Travis gave me that gun. It was his name on the license. If CCPD ran a ballistics report and the bullet in the body matched those he bought with the gun, he would be arrested for a crime I committed, and the idea made me sick to my stomach.

Among the four of us siblings, Travis and I are the closest in age, which meant we spent a lot of time together growing up. He was the one I went to when shit got complicated, and I was the one he talked to when life got him down. He’d even given me money to add to my college stash when he could spare it. He was good and kind and deserved to have a future.

That’s why, if the body does turn out to be Royce, I’ll confess. There is no way I could let my brother take the fall for something I did. His generous heart did not belong behind bars. My reckless one did.

I’m jiggling my leg nervously as the big-haired power couple on the TV discusses some secret spy group operation, when I hear a car pull into the drive. Reaching for the remote, I turn off the TV and push up from the couch, shifting my attention to the door. I don’t know who it is, but I’m really hoping it’s the one I called.

Ever since that night on the beach, when Jake pried the gun out of my hands and promised to keep me safe, he’s been the only one that can stop me from spiraling when the memory of that night comes back to haunt me. I trusted him in a way I never expected and had grown used to his calming presence in my life.

When the door pushes open and I see it’s Jake, my relief is palpable. After closing the door, he steps into the hall and looks down at my suitcase, then up and over into the living room where he finds me standing by the couch.

“What’s wrong?” He eats up the space between us, crossing the room in a couple of powerful strides.

I try to work up how to tell him, but I’m at a loss for words. I can’t believe this is happening. The dead can’t talk. Isn’t that what Cruz said that night?

“Sparky?” He grabs my forearms. “Talk to me. What happened?”

He’s in his baseball uniform and his hair is matted, and good God, he’s fine. I may have fought it once, but I didn’t now. Being the kind of friends we were, came with benefits that had this good-looking hunk of a guy tending to my needs whenever I wanted. It was a perk I enjoyed. Who wouldn’t? He was more than game, and I had needs. It was a win-win.

He looks at me and I know he needs an answer, but where did I start—why I called him and not Ellery?

I could have called her. She was my best friend and I trusted her implicitly. But the fear that I was feeling was one only Jake would understand. He too had a sibling that meant the world to him, and he would understand the anxiety I was feeling, in a way that Cruz and Ellery wouldn’t.

I was spiraling at the thought of the past coming back to haunt not just us, but my brother, and I needed Jake to stop me from spiraling. He didn’t get worked up over anything. His even-keel nature was a contrast to my fiery one, and ever since shit went down last summer, I found myself needing his calm in a way I never expected.

“They found a body,” I say finally. “On the beach back home.”

His hold on my arms eases, as his eyes search mine. “Who found a body?”

I take a deep breath and tell him everything. When I’m done, he lets go of my arms and brings a hand to his chin, drawing in his own thoughtful breath.

“A body with a bullet in the chest?” I say, voice lifting an octave. “This could be bad.”

“It’s probably a fisherman,” he says in that breezy, yet assured way of his that can make everything, even a dead body, seem like no big deal. “There is no way it could be him, Sparky. It’s been seven months.”

Jake’s an optimist. He always sees the glass as half-full. But not me. I’m used to the world dealing me a shit hand. That’s why I can’t shake this feeling that it is about to deal me another, and that body back in Cherry Cove is Royce Richardson.

“I don’t know,” I shake my head, finding it hard to match his optimism.

“Now you listen to me.” He wraps a strong arm around my waist and pulls me toward him. “He’s gone, Sparky. He can’t hurt you. Royce Richardson is dead and he’s not coming back.”

His massive frame engulfs mine, snuffing out the fear, and stirring heat in its place. “Where are they?” I whisper, lips tingling.

Ellery would love nothing more than to catch Jake and I get together. She’s not been shy about the fact she thinks he and I would be great together. But no matter what she wants, Jake and I both know what we are and what we’re not, and we’re fine with it.

But I won’t deny being with him doesn’t feel good. He’s got a wicked sense of humor, was always up for a good time, and could tell a dirty joke in a way that would make any girl blush. Not to mention, he’s as good with his hands as he is with his mouth and knowing he is willing to scratch that proverbial itch for me without wanting anything in return, makes my body warm with need.

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