Page 79 of James

As she ran, her feet pounding against the treadmill, Laura felt a renewed sense of freedom. It was liberating to use her muscles, to feel the burn and the exhilaration of physical exertion. The worries and fears that constantly plagued her mind seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the sheer joy of movement.

While running, she kept stealing glances at James in the mirror. He’d moved from the rowing machine to the leg press. Listening to his legs rhythmically working the weights called up even more memories: being with him at Club Indigo, the heavy percussion of music coming through the speakers, the flux and flow of bodies around them in the dim light, and James, making the St. Andrew’s cross ready for her.

Focus, Laura!

Sweat coated her body, but another part of her body grew damp as well. It was disconcerting.

Determined to shift her focus, Laura slowed the treadmill to a walk, made it stop, and found an open space in the weight room. She chose squats, feeling the familiar burn in her leg muscles as she moved up and down. It was a welcome sensation, using her body and muscles instead of constantly relying on her brain. The repetition of the exercise provided a rhythm that soothed her mind, at least for a little while. Surrounded by the scents of rubber mats, testosterone and clean sweat, Laura let go of her thoughts and worries.

Droplets of perspiration rolled down her neck. Her thighs burned with pain and she first embraced the physical discomfort, then rose above it. Every now and then, she stole a glance at James. Her gaze caught the flex of hisarms as he worked on his bicep curls. His arms were incredibly muscular, and the motion of his exercises pulled at the muscles of his back as well, as hypnotic as the ocean tides. Her fingers itched to travel along his taut skin, tracing every vein. Her mouth was dry, thirsty to taste the sweat she could see trickling down his neck. Memories of other ways to work themselves into a sweat trickled into her mind, but she wasn’t going there. She wouldn’t!

As Laura continued with her squats, pushing her muscles to their limits, she found solace in the physical exertion. The burn intensified, but it was a welcome reminder that she was still alive, still capable of pushing herself. The weight of their situation momentarily lifted as she concentrated on each repetition, her body working in harmony with the rhythm of her breath.

When they returned to their room after more than an hour, Laura was both mentally energized and sexually frustrated. She excused herself for a well-deserved shower and some private time, but although she was eventually able to bring herself to a small shiver of relief, it was nothing compared to the orgasms James could give her. She sprawled across her bed, naked and trembling with frustration, remembering the touch of his hands, the taste of his lips, the low growl of his voice commanding her to come for him, only for him…

Oh James, she thought, gazing at the hotel ceiling and imagining bodies writhing sensually together in the abstract patterns of plaster there.I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to go back to the way things were, before John Smith, before Jake, before you had to say you loved me and make everything complicated. I just don’t know how.

But she knew better. Time was a one-way street. Shecould never go back, only forward, into a future as unpredictable as a tornado. And yes, James had brought her through a tornado once before, but how could she trust him to shelter her now when hewasthe storm?

“Oh James,” she whispered brokenly, rolling onto her side and curling up small. “What do I do?

As they fell into a new routine, Laura became more accustomed to having James by her side. In the beginning, she worried about their relationship. But after a little over a week, it felt natural, comforting even. The rhythm of their interactions became familiar, their conversations laced with humor and understanding. She had come to rely on his presence, finding solace in their shared experiences and the unspoken support they offered one another.

Trapped in the safe house, their morning workouts became a lifeline. Weight machines and treadmills provided an outlet for their frustrations and a way to release pent-up energy.

But after more than a month, as the workout ended, Laura and James returned to their room, their bodies damp with sweat and their spirits lifted. Their breaths came in steady rhythms, the physical exertion bringing calmness and clarity. And there, waiting for them, was Det. Cagney, a knowing smile on his face. Aside from his smile, he wore a rumpled coat and several days’ worth of beard. He carried a bottle of champagne and spoke the three little words Laura longed to hear: “It's all over.”

“The bust was last night,” he continued. “I haven’t had a break until now, what with securing all the scenes, the evidence, and of course, all the perps. They’re inholding cells all over the city. The FBI is taking over most of the prosecutions since Donatelli’s rackets were in more than one state. The mayor, prosecuting attorney, and the police chief are all thrilled because this case has already been a budget buster with all the overtime they’ve been paying. In any case, you are both free to go back to your lives. John Smith and Antony Marconi are both out of the way, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about. First, I thought we’d all like to toast the end of Donatelli and his ‘businesses.’ He’s still trying to insist that all he owns is a perfectly legitimate restaurant, but we have plenty of proof to back up the racketeering charges.”

Paula and Laura found glasses and brought them out. Det. Cagney opened the bottle and poured champagne into each glass. Paula raised her glass high and declared, “To the end of Donatelli!”

They all toasted.

“To Laura, who was brave enough to stand up to John Smith and Marconi!” Cagney proclaimed.

James raised his glass as well and added, “To normal lives.”

They clinked their glasses together, laughter filling the room as they savored the taste of victory. For a fleeting moment, they resembled the friends they could have been under different circumstances.

After they had each enjoyed a glass of champagne, they bid farewell to Det. Cagney, urging him to get some well-deserved rest. And Laura and James started packing their things, ready to leave the confines of the hotel and embrace the return to their ordinary lives.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Paula kindly offered to drive them both home, and they arrived at Laura's duplex first. James glanced at the boarded-up window and scowled. “I thought your landlord was going to fix that.”

Laura sighed, exasperated, but not surprised. “It’s on his list. You know how it is.” She lowered her voice to a fairly good, if not so kind imitation of her landlord. “He is just one man and very busy. He has to focus on the emergency repairs first.”

“What about a broken window in this weather isn’t an emergency?” James demanded.

“The part where it’s not his window. Never mind, I’ll call him again and let him know I’m back. He’ll probably come straight over,” Laura said, mentally adding,After the game on Saturday.

“Why don’t you come home with me for one more day?” James suggested. “We can come back first thing in the morning with a new window and your stuff. I already have the measurements and it’s a standard size.”

Laura hesitated. “You don’t have to do that, James.”

“You shouldn’t have to put up with this,” he insisted. “I’ll fix it and send him the bill.”

Laura laughed. “You’d better make him pay double.” She nodded. "Okay," she finally agreed.

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