When I'm Gone (Rosemary Beach #11)(24)



If she hadn’t answered that last ring, I was going to call Grant and Rush to check on her, and then I was going to ask my father to order a private jet immediately and fly my ass to Rosemary Beach. Hell, my knees had almost buckled with relief when she’d finally answered the phone. I wanted Jimmy to get his ass to her and tell her what happened so she would know. And so she wouldn’t be alone.

But until then, I wasn’t letting her go. Fuck, I wouldn’t let her go once Jimmy got there. I was seriously close to calling Rush and Grant to stay with her until I could get there.

She was struggling more tonight than she had in weeks as she read to me. I hated the thought of her being scared and alone. I also hated the fact that she lived in that apartment by herself. It wasn’t safe. This proved that.

“Jimmy’s at the door,” she said.

“I want to hear what he has to say,” I told her. I didn’t want her hanging up on me.

“OK. I’ll just, um, set the phone down.”

I waited as she opened the door. Jimmy asked her if she was OK, and it sounded like he was hugging her. She let out a small sob and asked him if he was OK. Then he was assuring her that he was fine.

“What happened?” Reese asked him.

“I don’t know the full story. When I was headed to the stairs, I heard wheels screech, and then I heard Jacob screaming at Melanie that she was a slut. Melanie began calling him names, too, and then he just pulled out a gun from his waistband and shot at her. She took off running and screaming, and I was trying frantically to dial nine-one-one when the second round went off. I saw . . .” Jimmy paused. “I need to sit down. Shit, I’m gonna need a stiff drink tonight.”

“You don’t need to be alone,” Reese told him.

“My man is on his way. He’ll hold me tonight,” Jimmy replied.

“Good.”

That didn’t help me. I didn’t like the idea of Reese being alone tonight, either. I also f*cking hated that she was on the first floor. It was dangerous down there.

“I saw her go down. She just crumpled to the ground. There was a pool of blood around her, and she wasn’t moving. It wasn’t the smart thing to do, but I went running toward her. And then the bastard fired at me. He missed and took off, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get that image out of my head of a gun pointed at me.”

Shit.

“Oh, no, Jimmy!”

“The guy in her apartment that she’d been having an affair with took off running in his underwear like a punk-ass. The cops caught him, though. He didn’t get far. He was scared shitless. They got Jacob, too. He stuck around too long, then ran his car into a ditch going too fast around a curve. The cops got him as he was running away from the car. This place was a f*cking circus. People opening their doors and screaming and yelling. No one was trying to help; they were just panicking. He just . . . killed her. Shot her dead. Damn psycho. They’d been married for three years.”

“That’s awful.” Reese’s voice was off. She was upset. And he was going to f*cking leave her alone by herself while he cuddled up with his boyfriend?

“I’ve got to go get a shower and some tequila. Anything to wash this shit out of my head. You stay bolted up. You’ll be safe, though. The cops will be all over this scene most of the night. It’s fine. But if you need me, just call.”

I heard Reese stand up and follow him to the door. “I’m glad you’re OK,” she said, and her voice cracked.

“Ah, girl. I’m fine,” he assured her. “Just f*cked-up in the head after watching that. I wasn’t close to Melanie. Hardly knew her, but damn, it doesn’t matter. Seeing a person die is tragic. So f*cking tragic.”

They said their good-byes, and I could hear Reese locking the door as the bolt slid into place.

“Hey. Did you hear everything?” she asked me. There was a tightness in her voice. Like she was trying not to cry.

“Yeah. That’s messed up. But it wasn’t a random act of violence. So no one is coming back to fire any more shots. You’re safe,” I assured her.

She didn’t reply right away. I wondered if she was afraid to sleep now. After all that, she needed someone to be there with her and hold her.

“Go get ready for bed. Lay the phone down. I’ll wait. Then take me to bed with you. I’ll be right here at your ear. We can talk until you fall asleep. OK?”

“OK . . . you don’t mind doing that?”

I wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight. I’d be worried about her. But she didn’t need to know that. “I want to. Now, go get ready for bed. I’ll wait.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

While she got ready I put the phone on speaker and slipped it into my pocket, then headed inside. I put my beer can into the recycling bucket and washed up a few items in my sink.

Once I had that done, I went to my room. I brushed my teeth and stripped off the clothes I’d thrown on when I had been terrified for Reese and ready to go after her. Then I crawled into bed. Within minutes, her voice came back on the line.

“I’m back,” she said, and I could hear the covers rustling.

I put one hand behind my head and lay on my back, staring at the ceiling fan in my room. Images of Reese in her bed were affecting me. I should have felt really damn guilty about it, but I couldn’t help it.

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