Sighing, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling fan. Cooper’s head popped up. He always started off the night sleeping at the foot of the bed, but without fail, his head was on the pillow when she woke up.

Petting his head, she smiled. “You crazy dog. George won’t appreciate you sleeping on his pillow.” She sat up and decided to go for her morning run a few minutes early. Since George left, she’d been running early every morning; like, before five am early, when the paparazzi leeches weren’t out watching for her. “Come on!” she called to Cooper and walked into the guest bedroom to put on her clothes.

Cooper followed her into the other room and got excited seeing her tie her running shoes. He matched her steps on the stairs and ran directly to the door where his leash hung on a hook.

Stella left the house and waved at Gunter sitting in the dark sedan in front of their house. He didn’t talk to her very often, but was professional and would give her updates about the investigation if she asked him directly.

She started off easy, running up Cameron and crossing over Washington into an old cemetery that let out a block later. As they turned a left to run towards King Street, she ran directly into a man’s chest as he stepped out of the shadows. They collided and she took a step back, dropping Cooper’s leash. Fucking clementines. Cooper jumped up and down, smelling Jamie and wagging his tail.

“What the fuck?” she demanded, looking around to assess whether there was anyone on the street. She already knew the answer. Her mind was working a mile a minute. She assumed if she wasn’t back from her typical run, Gunter may call it in or try to find her. She didn’t know. Jamie may shoot her and leave her body on the street. What the fuck was she thinking running by herself?

“Stella,” Jamie’s voice was jovial, “I’m glad you’re so predictable.”

“What do you mean?”

“For the past week and a half since that prick left, you run around 4:45 every morning.” Jamie put his hands in his pockets. “It’s like clockwork, unless it’s raining.”

Stella looked around again for anyone on the street. Fuck. “Coop, come.”

Jamie bent down and grabbed Cooper’s leash. “Wait a minute. We need to talk.”

“Give it.” Stella’s voice was fierce. Do not fuck with Cooper.

“Not until you listen to me. This can end well or it can end a different way. I’m hoping you’ll be smarter than you were in Key West.” His voice was harsh and Stella was listening.

“What do you want?” Stella fought to keep her voice even, but she was looking at Cooper and thinking of what she would do if Jamie hurt her dog. Their dog. Fuck.

“You know what I want, Stella. Where’s my money?” Jamie stood, holding the leash in one hand, his stance casual.

His nonchalance pissed her off. Hardness crept along the tissue of her body. Good. She needed that hardness because he was beginning to look more like the Jamie she’d loved once, the clean-cut college boy with the warm smile. She knew that was on purpose. He was trying to ingratiate himself back into the agency as a wronged undercover agent instead of a crazy, fiancé-shooting bastard. Too bad they couldn’t see through his bullshit like she could.

“What money?” she mocked him.

Jamie smiled, shaking his head. “My money.” That old twinkle was back in his eye and the confident swagger that she used to find so attractive now made her skin crawl.

“Wait, do you mean the money I found in Key West? That money is long gone, Jamie. Or is it Jack now?” Insolent, she put her hands on her hips, daring him to do something to her.

Jamie’s hands came around her throat so fast she didn’t have time to react. “You better be joking, Stella.” He pushed her up against the brick wall by the neck and lifted her up. The toes of her running shoes scraped the sidewalk and she kicked furiously. Her fear was palpable and she tried to swallow it.

Stella’s kicking and thrashing began to slow after a few minutes; she was having a hard time breathing. Tears began falling from her eyes, dropping on their own like rain off of tree branches. Images flashed in her brain: her parents, George, Patrick. One by one, the pictures rolled through her brain and fell away. She shook her head. Not like this. Once darkness clouded her vision, he released her and threw her to the ground. In spite of her thoughts and her inability to breathe, she popped up quickly, taking even, slow breaths. She took a minute to calm herself and looked him defiantly in the eyes.

“You know…it was so nice having some spending money. I bought some shoes and the suit I wore to testify against your friend. Oh yeah, I got the hottest car I’ve ever been in, too. Have you seen it? I practically had an orgasm when I cranked it.” She was just talking, trying to buy time to allow her brain to come up with a way out of this situation.

“You just put a nail in your own fucking coffin.” Jamie’s voice was void of emotion. He was wearing jeans, the same New Balance tennis shoes he used to always wear, a red fleece, and a Bass Pro Shop hat pulled down low on his head. He looked identical to the old Jamie, and for a moment it was difficult to separate his looks from the monster he’d become. She knew he’d done that intentionally.

It was as if the cord that had been barely holding her together for the last five years snapped with such force her body braced itself. Time stood still and she punched Jamie in the nose with all she had, catching him off guard. She actually heard the bones in her hand crack on impact. Pain shot up her arm and she winced and let out the first word that came to her mind. “FUCK!”

She shook her hand and took a step back from him. “Can’t you just be happy you ruined me?! Not only did you shoot me, but I loved you and you ruined any chance that I ever had to be okay! I’m so fucked up because of YOU! And you just keep making it worse!” She pushed him, pain radiated down her right arm. “All that shit you said to me in Key West was complete and utter bullshit. ‘I shot you because I didn’t want him to rape you,’” she mimicked. “BULLSHIT! ‘I kidnapped you because I love you.’ BULLSHIT! You couldn’t call me or email me to let me know you were alive? BULLSHIT! You sure as hell told your momma and your sister you were alive. Was that before or after I watched them cry when your casket was lowered into the ground? I fucking loved you once. I loved you. I was going to marry you.” She was panting and beat her chest with her left fist. “But I have never hated anyone as much as I hate you. I’m sick of your shit, JACK. IF YOU’RE GOING TO KILL ME, FUCKING DO IT! I’M TIRED OF BEING SCARED EVERYDAY. I’M TIRED OF TRYING TO BE SOMEONE I’M NOT. FUCKING DO IT! Put me out of my fucking misery. Do what you need to do to me, but leave George out of it.”

She took a breath. Jamie’s face registered an emotion she couldn’t discern, then his mask slid back in place. That was one thing they had in common; they were getting really good at pretending. It was his job, it was her life.

She forced herself to look at him with the rage she felt in her eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, but the game is finished. And I will win.” She bent down and picked up Cooper’s leash with her left hand.

Cooper stood in between her and Jamie at attention. Stella pushed him again and tried to punch him, but he grabbed her injured right hand and squeezed it so hard she screamed as the pain shot through her entire arm. She whimpered, hoping that Jamie would let her go, but instead Cooper jumped up and bit Jamie’s wrist with everything he had.

Jamie yelled “SHIT!” and released Stella. Stella started running as fast as she could; clutching the leash, she felt it pull, relieved when Cooper was even with her, matching her steps back to George’s house.

After sprinting the entire way home, Stella didn’t even glance at Gunter sitting in his car. She rushed through the garage and closed it immediately. She stood near the door, her chest heaving up and down; it’d been a really long time since she’d run so fast. Adrenaline coursed through her veins; she guessed it was the only reason she’d been able to run all the way home.

As her heart started to slow, the realization of what just happened washed over her and she slid down the wall by the door to the garage. Tears didn’t fall from her eyes, but on the inside she was sobbing. Cooper walked over to where she now sat crumpled on the ground and lay with her, his paw on her leg. Stella took a few seconds to fall apart, then started building her resolve.

Her hand throbbed and it was turning purple. Fucking great. She’d probably broken a bone in her hand or something, with her fucking luck. Fantastic. She’d have to learn how to type with her left hand or she guessed she’d just dictate everything for work.

Stella pulled her phone off her armband and sent an email to Christine and her secretary, Nancy, saying that she’d be out of work today. She walked up to her bedroom, still numb from what’d just happened, and peeled off her sweat-damp clothes. It was more difficult to do with just her left hand than she expected. She walked into the shower and stayed there until the water ran cold. She sat on the bench and her resolve disintegrated; she let herself cry.

It’d be the last time she’d let him make her cry.

Cooper was sitting at the shower door, waiting for her, when she got out. He followed her everywhere she went until it was time for her to go to the doctor.

She drove herself, one-handed, to the urgent care center up the road where she quickly found out she was right—she’d broken her hand. They put a small cast on that reached a little past her wrist, leaving just her fingertips peeking out. Stella admitted to herself that the pain in her hand was worth the look in Jamie’s eyes when she’d punched him. She couldn’t shoot him, but maybe she could still hurt him.

* * *

She stayed home all day from work; the morning had taken its toll on her. She sat on the back porch and admired the fall foliage, trying to get in touch with Jesse.

“Plays with Balls, you there?”

“Fuck that handle. If you’re going to call me something with balls, talk about how good they are. You’d know.”

“Lumpy Balls, you there?” She barely got out through her laughter.

“Fuck you,” Jesse retorted. “What’s up?”

“So, just wanted to give you a heads up that I ran into our little problem this morning.” Jesse was the safest person to tell first about running into Jamie. George would freak out and try to come home.

“What do you mean you ran into him?” Jesse was suddenly alert.

“He was waiting for me during my run.”

“Are you serious? You okay?”

“Dumb question. I broke my hand on his face, though.”

“Good girl. You piss him off?”

“I would say so,” Stella acknowledged, drinking a huge gulp of George’s Jameson.

“Stella. I’m looking into…things. I’m worried about you in the meantime.”

“This was my fault. I shouldn’t have been running the same route every day. I’ll get Patrick to run with me from now on, different routes.” Stella knew Patrick wouldn’t mind, and it would give them time to talk without Millie around.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get him recorded though?” Jesse’s voice was full of concern. “He’s not going to do anything you say now that you broke his nose.”

“I actually think he and I were due for that run-in. There were some things…some things I needed to say. He knows where I stand now and I know he’s willing to kill me. He wants money.”

“How much?” Jesse was all business.

“Fifty.”

“I’ll send it to you when we get off the phone.”

Stella looked at the phone for a minute. She honestly didn’t know how she was so lucky to have these great people around her. Jesse would help her if she was in trouble and he’d just confirmed it again.

“Ummm, no. That is the sweetest, kindest thing I think…” her voice caught in her throat. “Jesse, thanks for being a friend.”

“Thank you for being a friend.” He was silent for a few beats and then came back on. “Don’t tell anyone I’m sweet. I’m a mean bastard who will fuck your girlfriend and your sister.”

“Oh yes, that’s right.” She laughed. “I’m glad I don’t have a sister.”

“Stella,” he said, his voice serious. “Please be careful. And watch your six.”

“You know CB terms?” She laughed again.