Hit List

fifty six | break

Jamie is hunched over in front of my door. His clothes are slightly torn. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, which are completely devoid of emotion.

Elijah and I usher him into my apartment and close the door. "Jamie, what happened?"

As soon as the question leaves my mouth, Jamie completely breaks down. Tears stream down his face as his body shakes. He slowly slides down to his knees.

Could Antonio have done this? He's capable of anything. He had been watching. Maybe . . .

Elijah and I share panicked looks before kneeling down beside him. "Jamie, talk to me. Who did this?" I rub soothing circles on his back.

Elijah gently pats his shoulder. "Talk to us whenever you're ready. We're here."

We sit in silence, allowing Jamie to cry it out. To release whatever pain he is feeling. "She . . ." He can barely get a word out before he breaks down all over again. Once he has gained control again, he whispers, "She cheated on me right in front of my eyes."

"Alex?" Elijah asks.

Jamie squeezes his eyes shut and nods. "I had been busy with that stupid assignment. She thought I was ignoring her, got drunk, and sent me a message to come over." He wipes any remnants of his tears away. "She called me over to show me. To make sure I walked in on her. She . . ." His eyes go from flashes of extreme pain to devoid of emotions, as if he was trying to push the feelings away.

I get down on my knees and hug Jamie tight; with so much force that he almost topples backwards. He wraps his arms around me, pressing his head into the crook of my neck.

"She was butt-fucking-naked and underneath one of the guys she told me not to worry about. When I walked in on her"—he takes a deep breath—"she didn't even care. She smiled. I lunged at the guy and it got violent." That explains the torn clothes.

Jamie squeezes me tight in his arms, his hands grabbing fistfuls of my pyjama top. It makes me realise how close and intimate this position is for me, in my tiny pyjama shorts.

I glance up at Elijah, but he doesn't seem to mind or notice. But Jamie does. He pulls back—and his eyes trail down to my lips. Did he know Elijah was here, or did he come to find me?

"Jamie, it's late. Don't you think you should get some rest?" He doesn't seem focused on a word I am saying. He is staring, like he has been hypnotised and is suddenly truly seeing me for the first time.

"Rest is the last thing on my mind." He reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear. "You are so beautiful, Bree." He gently brushes his thumb over my lips. I can see he is restraining himself from pulling me closer to him.

"Jamie, you're drunk." I rise and walk to the kitchen to get him some water and a few slices of bread which will soak up the alcohol and bring him back to normal.

I hand it to him, and he continues staring at me as if he has been star-struck. He puts the bread and water aside.

Elijah clears his throat. "I agree that she is beautiful, but could you tone it down there? You look like you want to devour my girlfriend."

He stands and, without any warning, he slips his hands behind my neck and kisses me—completely ignoring Elijah.

I stand frozen, completely stunned, for longer than I should. It's hard to comprehend what is happening.

I push my hands against his shoulder and step back. He keeps his eyes on my lips.

Elijah's fists clench and he turns away for a moment. Anger radiates from him. Yet he doesn't look nearly as shocked as I feel. "Jamie . . . I get it. You're upset. You're drunk. You're not in your right mind." Elijah clenches and unclenches his fists. It sounds like he is trying to give himself reasons why he shouldn't punch Jamie. "But don't you dare touch her again."

"But Elijah." Jamie groans and steps closer to me. His eyes are roaming my face, drinking in ever detail. "She tastes so good." He tried to lean forward to kiss me again.

Before he can, Elijah has him pinned against the wall. "Listen to me, Jamie. I don't want to hurt you. You need to go and sleep this off."

Jamie is watching me like he is an addict trying to get his fix. "She likes it. Why didn't she hit me when I kissed her? She can throw harder punches than anyone I've met, but she didn't."

Elijah turns to look at me, wondering the same thing. I sigh deeply. "The first time I punched you, I didn't know you, Jamie. I won't hit you now. I know you're hurting."

And then, like a wave, the reminder of what has happened to him tonight washes over him, drowning him. Tears fill his eyes and he turns his head to the side, his jaw clenched tight. "I'm not hurting. Fuck her. She doesn't deserve to have any effect on me." He looks like he is trying not to break something.

So I grab a few plates from my cupboard—I can just order more tomorrow—and lead Jamie out of my apartment. We go around to the back where nobody can see us.

"Alright, if you're going to kill me back here, make it a quick death." He tells Elijah and I. He sways slightly on his feet.

I hand him a plate. "Throw it, Jamie." He needs to take his mind off the broken pieces in his chest.

He frowns at me. "Is this some kind of weird plan to make it look like I went crazy and that you killed me in self defense? Because—" He throws the plate to the ground with a large amount of force. The shattering glass pierces the silence of the night. "I don't care. Kill me." He grabs another plate and throws it. And then another. "I don't care!"

But he does care. He cares about Alex. And he regrets it now, but that doesn't make the feelings go away. "It's going to hurt for a while, baby J. But it gets better. With time."

He stares down at the broken glass. "But it hurts. I want to rip all of the memories from my brain and burn them."

Elijah walks over and gently pats Jamie's back. "It's okay to feel hurt. It shows how much love you have in your heart. You'll find someone who deserves that love, and I promise you"—he glances at me—"it will all be worth it."

•<•>•

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