Around mid afternoon Amria awoke in the guest room. She lay in bed for quite awhile, luxuriating in the sweet silence and soft linen. She had only a vague memory of arriving at the Barlows', but that memory was a comforting one, and she was anxious to find out what had gone on while she slept. Wincing a little as she got to her feet, she made her way to the shower, careful to avoid her own reflection in the bathroom mirror. The first splash of hot water on her body made her gasp. Her wounds, though not life threatening, were still very painful and she took some extra care not to bump them as she soaped and rinsed.
The water felt somehow nourishing, and she was grateful to be able to cleanse her body, at least, of the last traces of Quentin. When she finished, she realized that she was smiling--for the first time in days.
She dried off with the big, fluffy towels that were waiting for her, and found that she could no longer resist glancing at herself in the mirror. The sight of her bruised body brought bitter, burning tears of anger and humiliation to her eyes, and she sat for a long time in the bathroom crying. Finally, she mustered her resolve, went back to the bedroom and dressed in the jeans and t-shirt that Maggie had left out for her. They were a loose fit and, given the current tenderness of her body, they couldn't have been more appropriate. As she fluffed up her long hair, the smile returned. Maybe there was a chance. Maybe things were going to work out. Maybe, just maybe this man Jimmy was going to be her salvation after all. He seemed kind in his way, and he'd risked a lot to bring them this far. She slipped a pair of flip-flops on her feet and stepped into the hallway.
Maggie looked up and smiled as Amria came into the kitchen.
"Mornin', honey. C'mon in and pull up a chair. 'You hungry?"
"Thank you..uh...?" said Amria, a little embarrassed that she couldn't put a name to the face of her hostess.
"Maggie. It's alright. We didn't really have much of a chance to get acquainted earlier. You're Amria, I hear."
Amria nodded and smiled, and then sat down at the kitchen table across from Maggie.
" 'You hungry? I've got some leftovers from lunch on the stove. Nothing fancy. Just a casserole and some fresh salad greens from the garden."
"That sounds wonderful", replied Amria, "I'm starving."
" 'Coming right up then."
Maggie retrieved the food and Amria dug into it like a refugee. She chuckled as Amria looked up and blushed with the realization of how ravenously she had wolfed down the meal.
"Yep, you were hungry, alright."
They both laughed, and the silence that followed felt easy and natural to both of them.
"Amria. Such a pretty and unusual name", said Maggie, finally.
"Thank you. It's Roma."
"Roma?"
"Yes. What some people call 'gypsy', but we don't. It's from my mother's side of the family. I never knew my father."
Maggie smiled softly. Experience had taught her that people would say only as much as they wanted to say about their pasts, and until they were ready to say more, it was pointless to pry.
"So, how long have you known our Jimmy?"
"Not long. Just a couple've days. I like him. He's..."
"He's Jimmy," chuckled Maggie. "We go way back. He and Eddie worked together in the city years ago. Cops. Detectives, actually. Partners. One day, Jimmy took a bullet for Eddie...saved his life...and Eddie would do anything for Jimmy."
Maggie looked closely at Amria.
"And I mean anything. 'You understand?"
Amria nodded thoughtfully, and suddenly felt very safe with these people around her.
"After that, Eddie decided to take his pension, so we bought this place and moved out here lock, stock and pickup truck. Jimmy…well, you know what he did."
Amria looked at her blankly. Maggie realized that the young woman had no idea what she was talking about and began to laugh, long and hard.
"You didn't know? That's perfect! Jimmy wrote a book; a memoir about his time on the force. It became a best seller. 'Even got made into a movie with that guy, what's his name? David Caruso? Our Jimmy is the well known James MacDonnell, big time writer and all-around tinsel town party boy."
Amria choked back a gasp. This man; this man who had taken her so forcefully at the party, come to her defense and bravely rescued her from Stefano and his punks, this was James MacDonnell, the famous crime writer? She felt as if she might have to pick her jaw up off the table, but was saved from the embarrassment when Eddie and Jimmy burst in through the front door, laughing and jostling.
Jimmy looked at Amria and smiled.
"Well, look who's up and around. Excellent!"
He walked to her, took her hand and eased her to her feet.
" 'Fancy a little walk around the back forty, my dear?"
Amria looked to Maggie, and then down at the dirty dishes on the table. Maggie chuckled.
"Go on now. I'll take care of this. Go on and get out of here you two."
Amria beamed as she and Jimmy bolted out the door. From the kitchen window, Eddie and Maggie watched them sashay away, hand in hand. Eddie reached down and slipped his fingers into Maggie's, and then turned to her, a look of mild consternation on his face.
"Well, baby, 'looks like he's gone and done it good this time. This Stefano? I remember hearing about him back in the old days. They could never get anything to stick on him, but he's a wrong one. Rich and ruthless, and as sick as they come."
Maggie nodded, studying Eddie's strong face.
"I figured as much. But I...we...owe Jimmy everything. He brought you back to me that day, and I'll never forget it. Whatever it takes, Eddie."
Eddie squeezed her hand and nodded. He loved this woman more than his own life. And in that moment, he loved her even more.
"Whatever it takes."
Jimmy and Amria wandered around the property aimlessly, both searching for the right thing to say and the right way to say it.
"Why?" she asked, at last.
"Why, what?"
"Why me? Why all this?"
"You know what? I've been asking myself the same thing since I met you. I've never wanted much out of life, and less out of women. Why else would I have been at Stefano's party? Hell, I didn't even know the bastard. But I was. And when I saw you? I don't know quite how to say it, but something happened. Two weeks ago I would have laughed myself silly at the sheer idea of that, but something happened; something passed between us. And now, I can't imagine being without you. I suppose this sounds stupid or childish or whatever, but I can't help it. I want you, Amria. I want to be with you; you and nobody else."
Tears welled up in her eyes as she ran into his arms. He held her close and the feeling of their bodies together made her tears flow uncontrollably; but this time, they were tears of pure joy.
"Yes", she whispered.. "Yes, Jimmy."
That night, after dinner and wine and good talk and bad jokes and even more wine, Eddie raised his glass.
"New friends" he toasted, and everyone joined in.
He set his glass down and looked at Maggie, eyes twinkling. Without warning, he took her hand, raised her into his arms and swatted her bottom. She shrieked and made as if to slap him, but he hoisted her over his shoulder and turned to Jimmy and Amria, as if completely oblivious to Maggie's kicks and protests.
"Seems to me we were in the middle of something when you folks rolled in this morning. I think it's time to finish it. Say goodnight, Maggie."
Maggie blushed, sighed and winked, a sexy smile creeping over her lips.
" 'Nighttttttttttttt....." she managed, as Eddie carried her off to their bedroom.
Jimmy and Amria sat for a long time, basking in the glow of the wine and the comfort of the Barlow place. Finally, he leaned over and kissed her, caressing her full lips with his own, their eyes locked together in the ecstatic grip of something bigger than simple lust. He reached for her hand and she took it willingly, and then they disappeared into the guest room.
The faint sounds of giggling and playful slaps; of moans and passionate whispers wafted from the house and spread into the desert night. Out in the barn where Jimmy and Eddie had stashed his car, the sounds faded, only to be replaced by a soft beeping emanating from the BMW's dashboard. It came from a flashing indicator light which read, "GPS."
At that moment, in the computer center deep within the halls of Stefano Industries, a technician was jolted from a stolen nap by a loud alarm. His wheeled chair nearly came out from under him as he rolled forward to look at his monitor. Trembling noticeably, he grabbed his phone and dialed.
"Mr. Stefano? It's Greg. At the computer center? We found it! We got a trace on his GPS system."
Quentin Stefano smiled smugly as he ended the call, and then dialed another.
"Get the chopper ready. I'll meet you on the pad in twenty minutes."