I thank you for your time and for even considering helping me out.
I have the first e-mail ready. All I need is your permission to send.
Sincerely,
Marek
Tapping her fingernail against her teeth, Jordan stared at the note on the screen. “Ohhh, you are too good.” Now, she was too curious to know what the damn man had to say to ignore his plea. Before she could change her mind, she hit Reply and started to type.
I make no promises I will help you yet, but you can send the first one.
Without even signing her name, Jordan clicked Send.
* * * * *
Exhausted, fighting sleep, Colin pulled his laptop in bed with him, hoping to stay awake watching inane videos on YouTube. He didn't welcome sleep anymore; he feared if he slipped into a deep slumber, he would dream about Marek and the house. He wasn't sure he would survive living in those dreams every night again now that he knew the reality of the man and his home. Not now that he had been inside them both…and loved it. As quickly as excitement stirred in Colin's sweats, memories of their last moments together flooded him, and he didn't have to fight a hard-on anymore.
His home page flashed New Mail, and Colin clicked on it, figuring he could kill a few minutes browsing the junk mail clogging his in-box. He had to start thinking about a birthday gift for Jordan anyway, and maybe he would find a nice discount coupon for an online store.
“Speaking of the devil herself…” Colin opened an e-mail from Jordan and almost stopped breathing.
I am forwarding this from Marek. You may not want to read it, but please don't delete it. You might change your mind down the line. I love you, and only have your interests at heart. He sounds—
His heart racing crazily, Colin jabbed his finger on the laptop's touchpad and got out of the body of the e-mail before reading another word. He shut down his computer as fast as his shaking hands would allow then ran it into the living room and left it on the coffee table. Backing away as if it were diseased or on fire, Colin crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin the way he used to do as a kid.
I'm not ready to deal with him. I don't know how I feel anymore.
Blindly reaching for his TV remote, Colin's hand brushed the spine of a book. Beatrice's journals. A band tightened his chest as he acknowledged the gift of the diaries. With certainty, Colin knew Marek hadn't given them to Tag to pass along as some kind of manipulation. He just knew how much Colin treasured the find and wanted him to have them. Shifting upright in bed, Colin grabbed the top one, opened it to the bookmarked page, and started to read.
* * * * *
Colin woke up the next morning with his hand wrapped around his cock, shouting Marek's name as he showered his stomach with seed.
The dreams had returned.
* * * * *
“So you're not reading them,” Jordan said. She hoisted herself up on Colin's desk, crossed her legs, and nudged her high heel against his knee, forcing him to acknowledge her. “I just sent you one and watched you look up and glare at me from your office across to mine.”
Looking up at Jordan coolly, Colin picked up his pen and started twirling it between his fingers. “I've already told you I wasn't reading them.”
Jordan grabbed the pen out of his hand and threw it against the wall. “Damn it. It has been three and a half months, Col. I wouldn't care except you don't look happy. You haven't since the day we got back. I understand why you were mad; God knows I was too. Maybe I still am; I don't know. But if you are still angry, then maybe you should go be angry with Marek, to his face, and work through it so you can see if there's anything left worth rebuilding on the other side.”
“I'm not angry anymore.” In the beginning, Colin had speechified so many rants and rails at Marek in his head he simply didn't have the energy anymore. “I just don't care.” Even as he declared the second statement, his heart constricted hard enough to make him put his hand to his chest, proving him a liar.
Openly checking him out from top to bottom, Jordan snorted. “Yeah, right; it's so clear to everyone that you've moved on.” She pulled a sarcastic face at him. “You're letting fear rule you the same way I did.”
“No I'm not.”
“So if you really don't care anymore, then what will reading the e-mails from Marek hurt? How can they have power over you if you don't love him anymore?” She reached across the desk to his computer and clicked the icon for the Internet. “Read them and get them out of your system. I'll tell Marek I can't forward anything else, and we'll all move on with our lives.” She hopped off the desk and pressed a fast kiss to his cheek. “I'll let you get back
