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“You're sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine, Jim.” He knew the other man wasn’t to blame, but Jim was the one that was there. “Those people are crazy!” Mark pulled his shirt over his head. He was so mad he was shaking and his next statement came out low and harsh, “I can’t live my life like this.”

“You won’t have to. It might not seem like it after that experience, but the crowds are down to about half of what they were a few days ago.” Jim shoved his hands in his pockets and said, “Unfortunately, the ones who are still hanging around are the real zealots.”

Mark shook his torn shirt in Jim’s direction. “Ya think?” He threw the shirt on the sofa.

“Where were you going?”

“What difference does it make?”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “Look, Taylor, I don’t give a damn, but since Kern’s still out there as well as Medea, it might be a good idea to at least tell me when and where you’re going so if you come up missing, we’ll know where to start looking!”

Mark’s anger evaporated and he dropped onto the couch and leaned forward. Cradling his head in his hands, he closed his eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault.”

“Forget it. Anyway, I was coming by to tell you that there was a possible sighting of Kern in the city. It hasn’t been confirmed, but I wanted to keep you up to date. You have your phone, right?”

Mark raised his head, his stomach knotted up tighter than a strand of old Christmas lights. "Yeah. I've been carrying it."

“Good. Listen, I don’t care if you’re going to see your bookie, I want to know about it, understand?”

With a snort of laughter, Mark let a smile crack his face. “Yeah. Got it. Loud and clear.”

“Good. I spoke with Jessie this morning and she's going to come by and stay here later today and until then, the CPD will increase patrols around the neighborhood. Tonight, Dan said he'd send over a uniformed officer to park in front of the building.”

Mark stood and held out his hand. “Thanks for saving my butt out there.”

Jim smiled and shook the outstretched hand. “No problem.”

***

Mark spent the rest of the morning cooped up in his office going over paperwork. It was a chore he hated and never seemed to find the time to do thoroughly. Now, he had nothing but time. He looked at the clock and wondered when Jessie was going to show up. He took a sip from a bottle of water and bent over the books again. After an hour, he tossed his pencil down and rubbed his eyes. The numbers had begun to dance and blur and he knew he was done. He stretched and winced when he forgot about his shoulder for a moment. He needed a break and decided to head to O'Leary's Pub. It had been his and Jessie's favorite place to grab a burger and beer, and right now, he craved something familiar and comforting. After a quick call to Jim that left him feeling like a teenager calling his dad for permission, Mark called a cab and made it out the door without incident.

The lunch crowd had left and happy hour hadn’t yet begun as Mark ventured into the bar, relieved at the change of scenery. He was glad he hadn’t hidden away at home. He saw some patrons point and whisper, but nobody approached him and he was grateful for that.

“Hey, Bob. How're you doing?” Mark approached the bar.

“Great. How ‘bout you?” Bob wasn't a chatty bartender, and not much fazed him. If he knew about Mark's recent troubles, he kept it to himself.

“Good. Can I get a tapper?”

Bob nodded. “Sure thing." He filled a tall glass and slid it in front of Mark. "I heard you had a bit of trouble."

Mark sipped the cold brew. "Yeah, but it's all good now."

"Glad to hear." After a pause, he added, "The Cubs are coming on in a few minutes. You want me to put them on?"

“Sure.” He smiled and took another swig then rounded the bar and settled on a stool closer to the TV to watch the game. It felt good to do normal things.

Jessie showed up during the fourth inning. “Hey, Mark. This isn’t exactly staying out of sight.”

Mark finished off his second beer and set the glass down with a thump. The leash was beginning to strangle him. “Look, Jess, I can’t hide forever.”

“Nobody’s asking for forever, just a few more days.”

"How did you know I was here?"

"I got to the loft, and you were nowhere to be found. I called Jim. He said you were here. He also mentioned the fiasco this morning. What were you thinking to leave without someone around? You were just damn lucky Jim showed up when he did." She stood in front of him, arms crossed and her eyes flashing as she cast a dubious glance at the empty glass. “I thought you were on medications?”

“I finished them, not that it’s any of your business.”

Bob turned to look at Jessie and then gave Mark an amused look. Feeling like a scolded schoolboy, Mark slid off the stool and headed for the door. She could follow or not, but he wasn’t going to invite her. The rapid click of her shoes behind him let him know that she followed.

Her car was parked out front, and he debated passing it and walking home or catching a cab, but decided it would just make him look silly, so he climbed into the passenger seat when she unlocked the door. Neither spoke on the drive back to Mark's loft, and the feeling of being a teen caught out after curfew settled over him. He had a feeling it was going to be a long evening.

***

“Where’s your sling?”

Mark ignored her while he found the remote between the sofa cushions and turned the game on. If he was lucky, he'd get to see the last few innings. He flopped onto the couch and brought his legs up, crossing them at the ankles. He heard her sigh as she moved behind him and then a thump as she set her purse on the counter top. The refrigerator door creaked and he found it somewhat amusing that she still felt comfortable enough to help herself. It even felt right.

He tilted his head towards her when she sat on the chair, a bottle of water in one hand and a bag of cookies in her lap. He didn’t even know he had cookies. Chocolate chip. His favorite. It must have been one of the items that Lily had stocked him with.

She bit into one then spoke a few seconds later. “I guess I should have kept my mouth shut at O'Leary's. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I think it’s low blood sugar. I’m starving.”

Mark returned his focus on the game, but he felt tension ease out of his muscles.

“Who’s winning?”

“Cubs. Three to two.” Without looking, he held his hand out and Jessie placed three cookies in it. He smiled.

They crunched cookies and Jessie poured them each a tall glass of milk to go with them. By the bottom of the seventh inning, Mark felt his eyes grow heavy.

***

Mark awoke by degrees as he heard the game still droning on-something about extra innings. A distant car horn sounded. He was so comfortable that he was loathe to move. With nowhere important to go, he allowed himself the luxury of relaxing. It was so quiet, he wondered if Jessie had left.

He cracked his eyes open. The light outside filtered pink and gold through the windows. Jessie sat slumped in the chair, her legs stretched out, and he assumed she was dozing. Then he saw her eyes were open and focused on him. Her face wore a soft look he hadn’t seen in ages, and curious, he kept his eyes only slivered, watching her through his eyelashes.

While she freely watched him, Mark took the opportunity to return the observation. Her skin glowed in the soft light. He always thought she had beautiful eyes when they weren’t shooting daggers at him. The long lashes and delicately arched brows framed eyes that didn’t miss a thing. Her white blouse fit her well and he admired the smooth skin of her neck and followed it down to where it disappeared.