On The Run

Chapter Twenty-One - "Goodbye Morality. Hello Heartbreak."

Sarah

Three years ago

I was in a drunken stupor as I heard the knock on the door. I don’t know why I was wallowing but I just was. It was the end of a case we’d had, which had ended brutally and hauntingly, and it seemed drinking was the only thing that would help me to forget.

I checked the monitor and then opened up. Jake stood leaning against the doorway with a large bag of takeaway from Suzie’s Restaurant.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

The last time I’d talked to him, he’d said he was on his way home, and that was in the absolute other direction.

“You said, ‘Jake, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,’” he replied, walking past me into the apartment. We’d only been working together a couple months, but we were at that stage where he felt comfortable enough to barge in.

“Yeah? So?” I followed him into the kitchen.

“First of all, you called me Jake, in that way; second, I heard it in your voice,” he replied, pulling out plates.

I smiled and walked over.

“God, I love your place,” he murmured, “You must have had a very lovely grandmother,” he said. I’d told him it was willed to me; there was no way I’d have been able to afford it on a cop’s paycheck, and I didn’t want to raise any red flags about my past.

“So, you brought me dinner?”

He smiled, “Yes, but I see you’ve had your fair share of dinner,” he said, raising the half-empty bottle of wine.

I laughed, “I could eat.”

He served all the food onto plates and pulled me to sit at the island, on the stool next to his. I glanced at him, as he poured some sauce onto my rice.

I don’t know when it had happened, but I’d really grown to love Jake, far more than I could ever have imagined. He was just always there, no questions asked. He was everything I needed, just when I needed it, and I found that I had grown accustomed to having him around.

He looked up, “Eat, Sarah, or would you like me to force-feed you?”

“Thank you for this,” I said, taking the fork he held out to me.

“You’re welcome.”

“Jake? I’m a little drunk, so please don’t try to sleep with me.”

He spluttered, “What? Why would I?”

I raised a brow, “Are you trying to say I’m not ‘sleeping-with’ material?”

He laughed, “Shut up. I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Promise?”

“Sarah, I don’t want to sleep with you.”

“Ouch,” I half-joked.

He grinned, “I don’t mean it like that. I just love you too much to sleep with you just because I feel like it. If it’s going to happen, it’d be because we actually feel something for each other.”

I gasped, “Well, don’t think that deeply about it! It was just a warning.”

He laughed, “Eat your food, Sarah.”