Zombie fallout 18, p.17
My Spy 2: Witness Protection, page 17
Home Alone Tonight
Lonely Girl
House Party
Trouble
Wildflower
Beautiful Mess
Lesson In leavin’
Kinfolk
I’m Not For Everyone
What You See Is What You Get
We Are Tonight
This Is How We Roll
Redneck Crazy
Break Up In A Small Town
Little Bit of You
Cry Pretty
Homegrown
My Tears Ricochet
Singles you up
Party Crowd
Break up with him
Reason To Stay
Friends in low places
Ain’t my mama’s broken heart
Two More Bottles of Wine
DIBS
READY SET ROLL
THIS HERE SHINDIG
Tonight Looks Good On You
The Right Way
THE END
Preview of My Spy 3: Murder Mayhem
My Spy 3: Murder Mayhem- Chapter Two
MY SPY 3: MURDER MAYHEM- CHAPTER 3
MY SPY 2:
WITNESS PROTECTION
ERIN ST. JAMES
My Spy 2: Witness Protection
Copyright 2014 by Erin St. James. All Rights Reserved.
2nd Edition: 2021
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons-living or dead-is entirely coincidental.
Home Alone Tonight
I nearly choke on the rich floral perfume that consumes me as soon as I step into the familiar carriage house. I wave my arms around hoping to push the thick smell away from me as I look around the neat interior and I immediately want to throw one last hissy fit before settling in.
I notice all of Whitney's belongings are already gone and it looks just as I left it a few months ago. Mrs. Hemming furnished the cozy two-story cottage in ruffly floral pattern upholstery and delicate stark white antique furniture. It looks more like a young girl's dollhouse than any real functioning space. Everything is a little too neat and a little too matchy- matchy.
"It reeks of Whitney in here, don't it?" Jackson says as he drops my last steamer trunk in the doorway. I frown as I hear the thud and I want to scold him for being reckless with my antique luggage. He rolls his eyes at me when he catches my grimace and he continues to stride into what's going to be my living room for the next few weeks.
"Now don't get too comfortable darling, I'm sure I'll get to give you the boot here quickly," Jackson jokes and I slug him in the arm.
"Trust me, I am going to flee from here as soon as possible," I mutter. "And anyway, you're welcome for giving you the heads up that the Carmichaels are slimeballs. Letting me hide out here is the least you could do for me."
Jackson gives me cockeyed grin and mouths, "Yeah, yeah." I roll my eyes at him and mutter, "Ass," as I drop my toiletry bag on the bright circular dining room table. The carriage house looks like a fairy tale cottage on the outside, all white wood with planter boxes attached to the windows. Inside, the large rectangular windows pull in the sunshine so it splashes all over the bright interior and the light furniture gives everything a warm glow. Freshly cut sunflowers fill a white ceramic Mackenzie Childs vase on the table and even the flowers and the disappearing sunshine won't pull me from my sour mood.
I let out a long dramatic sigh as Jackson comes and stands next to me.
"Please, don't be so dramatic. You are getting a vacation from your mama. I think I am doing you a huge favor so don't be all, woe is me and all that shit." I look to him and frown when I realize he's right. I am getting quiet time away from all of her judgment and sass so this imprisonment might not be all that bad.
I change the subject so I don't have to give Jackson the satisfaction of being right.
"So where does the help keep the cleaning supplies? I need to find an air freshener to try and tame the harlot's stench in here." Jackson points to a small cupboard that sits discreetly under the staircase and I pluck an aerosol can from the cleaning supply bin. I start spraying a fresh linen smell all around the downstairs of the cottage and Jackson waves his arms around trying to not get drenched in air freshener.
"Alright Sawyer, I think you've cleansed the space. Unless I need to go get you sage to burn too." I look to him and he sees me ponder the idea, "Sawyer, I was joking."
"It's not a bad idea though. Thoroughly cleansing the space. Who knows what voodoo Whitney was concocting in here?" I say as my eyes scan the room and Jackson bitterly answers, "The only thing Whitney was doing in here was scanning over the documents that were going to entitle her to half of everything I own."
I catch his eye, "Well the half that wasn't in the prenup. Where is Whitney now?" Jackson drops onto the velvet antique couch that sits under the wide window in the living room and replies, "Hopefully halfway to Louisiana by now. I don't want to see her in Hollis ever again."
I shake my head, "Okay, but what about your unborn child? You're just never going to see your baby either?"
Jackson shrugs nonchalantly, "We'll figure out an arrangement after a paternity test is done. It's already bad enough that the Hemming heir could be an illegitimate child but it will be worse if the mother is a criminal." I let out a bold laugh and my jaw drops a little as I look to Jackson and his bright blue eyes.
"Hemming heir? Jackson this is Hollis, Mississippi. Not the monarchy of France. If the baby is in fact yours, it will be a Hemming regardless of how you feel about their mother. Maybe next time you should consider the consequences before sticking your willy in places it probably don't belong." I add on a dramatic southern drawl and Jackson jokingly flips me off, "Now Sir Hemming, that's hardly appropriate behavior for the King of Hollis. Don't you know how to respect a lady?" I frown and quickly reply, "Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to, of course you don't know how to respect a lady." Jackson pops up from the couch and annoyingly mimics me as he glides over to the front door, "Well Sawyer, I'd say don't let the bed bugs bite but..." I roll my eyes at him and with his right hand, he gives me a short-wave goodnight. I hear the door slam shut behind him and I watch his dark hair disappear into the garden. I turn back into the living room and the quiet emptiness of the house finally hits me. I decide to grab my trunk off the floor and I catch the small needlework that's framed above the door. "Home Sweet Home," is sewn in a bright dandelion yellow thread and I roll my eyes at the irony.
"Hardly." I mutter as I drag myself over to my luggage and I realize I should have had Jackson's useless ass carry these up to my new room for me.
Using both hands on the small leather handle I haul my trunk up the wooden stairs and drag it into the small loft bedroom that sits at the top of the banister. My heart is like a fist in my chest when I see the familiar queen-sized brass bed sitting in the center of the room. How am I supposed to sleep in the same exact bed as I did when I was blissfully ignorant and engaged to Jackson? I think of him and Whitney together beneath these sheets and suddenly the entire room is unappealing.
I flip the locks up on my trunk and quickly pull out my cozy sweatpants and a red V-neck t-shirt I stole from Ryan. My eyes dart to the two small windows that sit on either side of the bed and I immediately twist the wooden blinds shut. Through the slates in the panels, I watch the main house disappear and I shake my head at the insanity of the situation. Never in a million years did I think I'd be getting ready for bed in the Hemming's carriage house again.
Lonely Girl
The next morning, I roll a little too far to the left and end up tangled in my comforter on the floor in the living room. The couch wasn't as comfortable as it originally looked when I decided that I couldn't bring myself to sleep in the memory bed upstairs. I squirm about until I shrug the quilt off of me and I hear a buzzing coming from the kitchen counter. I immediately spring up off the floor and dart into the kitchen to retrieve the burner phone Austin and Ryan left me with. I flip the small black phone open and answer, "Hello?"
"Good morning baby girl," Ryan replies and his morning voice is deep and scratchy.
"How are you this morning?" I ask him and I grin at his husky voice.
"I'm tired. Austin and I thought we had a lead on Simon last night and we did a stake out a few miles outside Hollis all night."
"Anything turn up?" I eagerly ask and I hear Ryan's "Nuh uh," before he murmurs something to Austin. I roll my eyes as I wait for them to finish up their conversation and Ryan's attention is quickly back to me.
"Sorry. Austin is giving me the parameters for our phone conversations when he is in the room."
"Well tell his ass to leave the room then," I joke and I hear Ryan laugh.
"Apparently we are not allowed to use pet names. I am to call you Sawyer or Miss Sweeney. That, and there is to be no sexual context to our conversations," Ryan relays to me and I scoff, "I hope you didn't agree to his conditions. If you want to tell me all the dirty things you want to do to me when we see each other next you go on ahead."
Ryan laughs again before replying, "Nah I don't want Austin stealing my moves. He's not as creative as I am, so he'd be taking notes for when he gets back to South Carolina."
I hear Austin mutter some smart ass re
ply back and Ryan and him razz each other a few more moments before Ryan is back to me.
"Well Miss Sweeney, I just wanted to check in and let you know nothing came up last night. But we have a couple more agents that are being added to the team today so we'll have more coverage."
"Well hopefully you'll get Simon in the next couple of days. I hope I don't have to be here much longer than that." I say flatly and Ryan quickly asks, "Jackson is staying away from you though, right?" Even though he can't see me, I smile at the thought of Ryan being jealous.
"Yup, jackass Jackson has been in the main house. Don't worry."
"Okay, well remember no contact with anyone and try to stay in the carriage house as much as possible. We'll get you out of there soon."
"I know. And you and Austin better stay safe. I'll talk to y’all later."
"We will. Bye Sawyer," Ryan says and I can hear the smile in his voice. My heart swells and I clutch the phone to my chest after we hang up. I had no idea I'd miss him so much after only being away from him for less than twenty-four hours.
He had insisted on helping me pack for my stay at the Hemming's but unfortunately, the Captain denied his request to escort me to the carriage house. We had to say a short goodbye in front of my momma and Austin.
I walk back into the warm, bright living room and scoop up the plush quilt from the floor. I manage to fold it up nicely and drape it over the back of the couch. I look around the living room and realize there is no television or computer and I wonder when they had that removed. I continue to glance around the space and am horrified to see they only have three books that aren't some form of an encyclopedia on their book shelf.
So, I am not allowed to leave the carriage house, but I also don't have any form of entertainment inside the carriage house either. I frown at my lousy environment and wonder what the hell I am going to do while I'm stuck here.
I trudge up the creaky wooden steps back into the loft and dig through my trunk to find comfortable clothes to change into. I push the bathroom door open and notice the bathroom has been remodeled from when I had lived here. Instead of an old deep bathtub with a flimsy light pink shower curtain circling it, there is now a beautiful white clawfoot tub with bright silver hardware taking up the back wall. The peeling pink floral wallpaper has been replaced with a fresh coat of powder blue paint and fluffy cream towels hang from a modern silver towel rack on the opposite wall. I'm surprised at the modern contrast and frown when I realize the design stinks of Whitney. She loves the modern farmhouse style and her favorite color is splashed all over these walls.
I am actually shocked that Mrs. Hemming let her remodel considering I was denied having a dishwasher installed when I lived here. She insisted that no modern changes happen in the charming cottage as she didn't want it to lose its vintage appeal. I drop my clothes onto the darling silver bench sitting under the neat towel rack and I curse myself for liking her bathroom remodel. She always did have a good eye for interior design.
Since such a beautiful tub sits before me, it would seem wrong not to enjoy a long hot one. What else do I have to do anyway? I quickly fill the tub with warm water and add bath salts to spruce it up a bit. I dump half the bottle of bubble bath I found under the new sink into the stream of water and waste no time slipping in to the inviting bubbles. I pull my long blonde hair on top of my head and secure it into a messy bun before resting my head on the comfortable porcelain.
It only takes a few moments for the water to cool off and for boredom to wash over me. I have no relaxing music, no magazine to enjoy or any revenge plot to ponder. I literally don't have any idea what to do with myself while being held hostage here.
House Party
After cleaning up all the watery footprints I left all over the bedroom, I pulled on my comfy clothes and skipped downstairs. I glided right into the kitchen and immediately began pulling all of the cabinet doors open. There is only one thing that can help this boring stay get better and I am determined to find it. I rifle through every cabinet and drawer but sadly, not a single bottle of wine turns up. I then remember Whitney had been pregnant while living here so it makes sense as to why there is not a drop of alcohol in the cottage. There is no way I am going to get through this house arrest if I not only have no books, radio or television but no wine either. My eye catches the main house from the living room window and I know what I have to do.
I find my worn in converse sitting by the front door and tug them on before pulling the front door open. I stick my head out of the opening and cautiously look around me before dashing across the colorful garden to the main house. I look around me again before punching the code for the basement door to open and I quickly close the sliding door behind me.
I glance around the cold quiet basement as I pull my cardigan more tightly around my shoulders. Even though they have a luxurious bottom floor, the basement has hardly been remodeled, so it still has remnants of its original era scattered about. I take quiet steps as I feel the eerie silence around me and I look around the dark basement. The sunlight doesn't get sucked in as well in the back of the house, so it's dark all hours of the day. I slide my hand around the wall until I find a light switch and I feel more comfortable once the lights fade up. I quickly stride over to the wine cellar and eagerly pull the cellar door open.
The Hemming's have one of the most luxurious wine cellars in Hollis. Rows and rows of red wine, white wine, blends, Moscato, rosé and fancy champagne line the tall walls all around the room. They are collectors, so they have wine from all over the world from all different decades collected down here. I run my fingers over the bottles and I know enough about their collection to know which bottles I'm allowed to drink and which ones I'm not even allowed to touch. I grab a Pinot Grigio I know I like off the shelf and skim their collection of Chardonnays before plucking up a decent bottle for myself. I carry the two wine bottles back across their basement when another idea hits me.
I really don't want to chance running into Jackson or his parents, but I also know I'll die of boredom if I don't find something to do. I run through a mental map of their house and remember that their library doesn't sit too far from the basement staircase. I tuck the two wine bottles away at the bottom of the stairs and quickly ascend to the main floor. I peek around the banister and dart out into the narrow hallway once I see the coast is clear. I make it to the thick, cherry wood French doors that make up the entrance to the library unnoticed and quickly duck inside. I am quietly pushing the heavy door shut behind me when I hear, "Sawyer my sweets, is that you?" I swing around to find a surprised Gus and Annabeth lounging in two brown leather chairs smack in the middle of the library.
"What the- why are you two here?" I ask, just as shocked as they are and they both quickly push themselves out of their chairs.
"We came to ask Jackson about you! We ain't heard from you since after the wedding. Your phone has been disconnected," Gus tells me and Annabeth comes over and pulls me into a hug.
"Yeah, we wanted to make sure you were alright. Whitney left town with her parents and no one was telling us anything. We thought Jackson might know," she says. We all hear the French doors open and we watch as Jackson steps inside the library and closes the door behind him. When he turns and spots me, he frowns.
"Dammit Sawyer. We told you to stay in the damn carriage house. Why are you in here?"
Gus suddenly cuts in, "Now wait here just a minute, you just told us Sawyer was in Philly with Tate Samuels." Jackson shakes his head in frustration and with wide eyes he looks to me for an explanation.
"I just came in here to get a couple of books. I didn't know Annabeth and Gus were in here. Why are you in the library anyway? No one ever hangs out in here."
Jackson exhales loudly and replies, "My parents are with their lawyers in the main room and I didn't want Annabeth or Gus to see you if I brought them outback or upstairs so I thought a safe place was the library. Guess that logic failed."
"So hold on, you are staying here?" Annabeth asks me completely confused. I know Ryan and Austin gave me explicit instructions not to tell anyone where I was hiding out but there doesn't seem to be a way out of this one. I glance to Jackson before nodding my head. He shakes his head as he runs his hands down his face.
