Something Borrowed

Chapter 5. Letter from the dead

Chapter 5. Letters from the dead

(Tamara)

From: JuneM@gnet.com

To: Tammytalks@zealous.com

Dearest Tamara,

You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I have the audacity to hurt you... but, I have always been selfish, had I not? I have always been inconsiderate and greedy and even then you had stayed. When everyone left, you had stayed and I- I ruined it, too. I had wanted to write, to talk for years now, but somehow I could never write to you. I was scared, scared you would tell me you would never forgive me. But I am writing now, because I need you, Tammie. You are the only one I can trust to take care of my baby boy. You are the only one I trust in this whole wide world. No one else. Nothing else.

For a month now, I have these feelings... of being watched. Someone was following me and I am scared. My mom says I am losing it, that I am being paranoid, but what does she know... she has always been vapid and silly.

No one listens to me. But I know you will. You have always listened to me, believed in me and I need you to believe me once again. Please, Tammie. Come back, if not for me, for Joel.

Love,

June...

* * *

Tamara had printed the mail out, just in case, and now the weight of June's words was twisting around her, its fingers tight and gripping. She couldn't think past the thick stench of guilt and regret. She closed her eyes with a tired sigh.

June and Tamara were in a locked glass box and June was more liquid than she was solid. She swirled around Tamara and Tamara banged on the glass wall. She pounded on it. But it never opened. June's eyes were dark molten red. She smiled at Tamara, a distorted smile that bled dark, distressing red. The glass box was filling, filling with June's screams and tears and blood, and Tamara couldn't breathe past the oozing red. Her lungs were shrinking slowly and Tamara wished someone would break the glass walls... but it was unbreakable. June laughed. 'You can't run away, Tammie, like you have always ran. This time, you are going to stay.' June's voice was red, angry. Tamara begged, pleaded, cried, thrashed. Nothing helped. As her eyes slowly drooped, Tamara looked at June one last time. 'You killed me, Tamara!'

Tamara woke up with a scream lodged at the base of her throat, but thank God she didn't scream out loud. She was sweating profusely and her heart was racing like a prey on the run from its predator. It was wild and uncontrollable and fast, so damn fast, she wondered if it would stop at some point.

She sat in the airplane seat, wondering why she had agreed to this ludicrous scheme.

Tamara could have gone a month or so from today to see her mom. She could have made excuses, excuses that wouldn't have been a lie. She really had so much work to do, but here she was... again trapped in the glass walls made of memories and madness and she could never properly breathe with June around and it looked like she was always around, even after death.

This was torturous. Her stomach flipped nervously, and she felt sick. If she could stop the plane and get off, she probably would.

Her hands were clammy and sweaty and she wanted to puke. Puke out her feelings and fear ripping through her stomach. There was nothing she could do at this point, though. She felt absolutely helpless. Like a directionless missile, flying to its destruction.

She sighed as she leaned against her seat, face pale and chalky, fingers trembling. "Are you alright ma'am?" The flight attendant asked, looking concerned. Tamara winced at that.

"I am fine. Can I get a bottle of water, please?" Tamara asked and the woman nodded, took out a bottled water with a concerned look in her eyes.

"Here ma'am. Do you need anything else?"

Can you stop the plane? Tamara thought. That would make Tamara feel so much better. She wasn't ready for this. She really thought she was, but judging from the way her stomach was still doing weird flips and the way her lungs were almost forgetting to do the job it had been doing for twenty-seven years—breathing— Tamara was very sure that this was a total mistake on her part. She should have dug her heels in and said no. She shouldn't have let her mother guilt trip her into going.

"No, thanks." Tamara said with a nod.

I just wish I could stop thinking about all this s**t and just rest for a while. But no. Her brain was too loud with too many voices that she just couldn't go back to sleep again. She was also afraid she would dream about June again.

I want to go back to my apartment and sleep. Just sleep and forget everything and everyone. Tamara thought with a dry smile.

Tamara really did want to see her family, it had been too long and it was so cowardly of her to have run away from her home because of June, but she had no other choice. If she had stayed, Tamara knew, June would have never really let go of the hooks she had on Tamara and Tamara would have given in. She always gave in when it came to June. That was why she had run, far and long...

Family meeting, yes. June's funeral, no.

Facing June’s final journey, talking a few good words about June, if her mom asked Tamara to, feeling pathetic deep down when Lucas silently mourned his wife, feeling guilty for not replying to June, to her e-mail... Tamara didn't want to feel all those emotions. They were so big, and she was so little. There was no space inside her to carry such colossal feelings.

Suck it up and act like the woman you’re. You aren’t a snivelling lovesick, manipulated teenager, Tamara! Not anymore. She told herself firmly. And June can't hurt you or control you anymore.

Can't she? The small voice almost sounded like June. Can't I, Tammie?

She was going insane. There was no other explanation for this. Tamara emptied the water bottle in one long gulp, and she was still thirsty. She felt like she would still feel thirsty after drinking an entire ocean.

After what felt like a thousand mornings and some more, the plane landed noisily at Chicago O'Hare international airport at twelve in the noon. It was the closest airport to her hometown. From here, it would almost take an hour and half or so to reach St. Charles and Tamara almost wanted not to drive those fifty-five or so miles towards where June's lifeless body waited for her.

Tamara grabbed her luggage, pulled her black dress down, readjusted her brand new leather jacket that hung just a little above her midsection and righted the shiny silver Pareo around her hips and got off the plane, hoping, praying this wouldn't be a disaster. And knowing, knowing that it would be!

Her high-heeled black boots made a strange clicking noise as she walked through the mob of people milling around, her eyes scanning the crowd for her sister Holly. Holly had sent her a text saying that she would be there to pick her up and Tamara could not wait to meet her sister. It had been too long since she had met Holly and she missed her.

Holly had been Tamara's friend even when they were young. Even though Holly was two years older, she had never treated Tamara like the pesky younger sister that she was. Holly had defined the word life for her, and she had always been there to support Tamara in whatever she did. Holly had picked her up when she had fallen, pushed her to get out of her cages... if not for Holly, Tamara would have been stuck.

Tamara yawned as she surveyed the crowd again. There was no sign of Holly. She looked at her watch and turned around, wondering what to do and that was when she saw him. Tall and lean and tired. Lucas Ryan Turner.

Her eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. Why was he here only now?

Who comes to his wife's funeral at the last minute?

He looked dishevelled, tired, there were dark circles under his eyes... but damn it, how could he still look so handsome? He still made her heart beat like a deranged drum and it felt unsavory. This wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening. It had been two damn years.

That is your dead best friend's husband you are ogling. A small voice reprimanded. It was borderline creepy and so, so wrong. Appalling. Tamara wasn't some creep. She shook her head as if to push out the thoughts of Lucas and his brooding eyes and turned away from him. If she looked, she knew she could not stop thinking more about him and that thought didn't sit well with her.

Tamara picked up her phone, to call her sister, when someone tapped her on her shoulder. She was startled and she almost dropped her phone.

"Hey princess," he said in a voice that was overbearing. He had always thought of her as a little girl, and looked like it hadn't changed yet.

Jerk. She thought.

"Looking for Holly?" He asked, looking at her from head to toe. His eyes narrowed disapprovingly. He wasn't very attractive when he had disapproval and disdain in his eyes. Now... she only felt irritation. No strange drum beat.

What the hell is his problem? She thought with a belligerent frown.

"It looks like you don't approve of my choice of wardrobe?" She snapped at him, her eyes throwing sharp, sharp daggers and he looked like he was surprised to hear that. Once upon a time, Tamara would have just ignored the look, but once upon a time was long gone.

"Are you going to a funeral or a fashion show? I am just trying to find that out," he looked smug as hell and Tamara wanted to wipe that self-satisfied smirk from his face. What an obnoxious jerk!

"What? I thought I looked equally appropriate for both, don't you think so?" She turned sideways and made a pose and for a moment, she knew he was looking at her, like really looking at her. She hadn't misread that flash of appreciation in his eyes, had she? Her heart sped, and again, she was disgusted with how he was affecting her body, even after years. "I thought I should look nice for my ex-bestie's funeral. What is your excuse for looking bad?" Tamara asked with a acidic smile.

He gave her an exasperated look and grumbled 'still bratty' under his breath, but just loud enough for her to hear it. She wondered what had happened to him. Even back then when she was a pain in the ass, he was always tolerating, and even though he did lose his patience sometimes, he wouldn't be an asshole about it.

June must've rubbed off of him! She thought with a frown.

"Okay, now that the pleasantries are over, and you have done judging me, what do you need?"

"I don't need anything from you. You, on the other hand, need something from me." He said in a flippant voice, looking absolutely smug and arrogant.

Tamara gave him a frustrated look. "Why would I need anything from you?" She scoffed and wagged her brows. He gave her a cocky smile as if he knew something she didn't.

"Because your sister is not coming. I am your ride back home. Now that we have gotten that out of the way, shall we make a move on?"

"I can hire a cab. It is not like I am this helpless damsel who can't even get a cab. This is not my first rodeo, dude." Tamara retorted as she gave him a cool gaze from under her lashes. He chuckled at her as if it was all so amusing for him. It wasn't for her. Not even a bit.

"Alright then. All the best. Oh, and Tamara, if you want to come running back, I will be sitting in the diner just six blocks down. I am feeling very parched after this very dry conversation with you and Tamara, hurry up. Don't take too much time." He gave her a smile that was so drenched in superiority as he turned and left.

When the hell had he become such an insolent jerk? Tamara cursed him and she wanted to stomp and scream, but she refused to give into her intense need to act like a kid. She glared at his back as he walked away, thinking about all the ways one could kill a man without leaving a trace.

If eyes had the power to transfer thoughts, he would have long been dead.

Tamara muttered a string of curses under her breath as she turned to the service counter in the front of the airport and walked towards it, her brows knotted together.

"Can I book a cab to St. Charles?" She asked the fancy-looking man at the front desk and he gave her a guilty look and readjusted his perfectly placed tie.

"The cabs are all booked, ma'am, since it is so close to thanksgiving, everyone is going home." He gave her an apologetic smile.

"You can try hiring a cab outside, but the man who just left, he was going to St. Charles, as well, I can give him a call for you." The man said.

Tamara understood Lucas' arrogant look as he turned and left her. The bastard knew...

She stomped through the crowd of people and walked inside the small diner outside the airport. She scanned the tables and found that he was sitting at the back with a mug of coffee in his hand. His smug eyes found hers and she glared at him before marching towards him with a dark glare. His light brown eyes twinkled as she sat down.

"Are you ready to admit I am your knight, now, damsel?" He asked as his whiskey eyes crinkled at the sides and Tamara's heart galloped inside her chest, ready to run out of her suddenly dry throat. When he smiled like that... it made thinking so difficult. This guy is still dangerous for my blood pressure, she thought, and decided to stay a safe distance away from him.

"Yeah, yeah. You are such a jerk."

"You are such a royal pain in the ass, always have been."

The waitress came towards Tamara and Tamara smiled at the woman. "Coffee and pancakes, please. With loads of syrup and whipped cream. And that pumpkin pie I noticed when I walked in." She added, and the woman gave her a smile before she turned and left.

It was almost lunch, but Tamara craved the breakfast food. She needed the comfort of the pancake and the syrup, right now, more than anything.

"What? What are you looking at?" She looked at Lucas when she realized he was giving her a squinty-eyed look.

"Nothing."

When her food came, Tamara dug in and Lucas watched her curiously. "You are staring again."

"I am just surprised. For such a small woman, you eat a lot and you eat breakfast during lunch."

She glared at him and huffed. "I am not a small woman. And this is not a lot. It is only pancakes and pie."

"Six pancakes with butter and syrup and cream and a big slice of pie."

"You are rude and unpleasant. One should never talk to a woman about what she is eating. It is inappropriate. That is a strict no no. Don't you get the etiquette manual about how to deal with a woman?"

"I did. I just don't do well with instructions and rules." He shrugged and paid for his food as he stood up. "I will wait in the car."

"Hey Lucas..."

He stopped and turned to look at her, his brows raised in question. She chewed on her delicious pancake and stared at him for a second too long. He cleared his throat, looking impatient.

"Why are you so late for your wife's funeral? That is... not just breaking rules, right?" She asked as she looked at him. For a moment, he looked confused. He blinked at her, looking bewildered.

"You don't know?"

"What?" Tamara asked as she took a sip of the bitter coffee. It was like a slap against her throat. God. She loved her coffee with loads of sugar, but she decided she needed the hit of caffeine to deal with the guy for more than an hour and a half. Cooped up in the car with him would be an immense torture and she needed to be alert and awake. Or he would probably dump her on the way to their hometown. He would do it too, just for the heck of it.

"Ex-wife. She is my ex-wife."

___