Chapter 47

Other than the one loose end in this Gary guy, this was the bulk of it.

All that suffering she had endured, all the evidence that could send him to prison and put her directly under a spotlight as a murderer, right here in his hand. The chain of events he had set off by killing Ryan was this close to finally being over for good. Maybe they both could get on with their lives without the shadows of what they had done looming.

"Come on, let's go inside before we die of a heat stroke or something."

She cracked a smile and nodded, glancing back at the safe momentarily before following him inside the house, once again looking around. What were they supposed to do until nighttime? Maybe it would be best for her to head back to the hotel and come back later since he looked to be hard at work renovating. Her mind replayed the phone call they had on Monday, which was the last time they had spoken, besides today's text message.

Jon grabbed them some bottled water and led the way into the living room, both sitting down to take a load off. He had a towel wrapped around his neck, having wiped some of the sweat from his body, and once again, Vallea did everything in her power not to look. Instead, she focused on drinking her water, downing half the bottle. Silence. It was silent, minus her chugging that water, and Jon let his head drop back onto the couch, closing his eyes. He had been awake since the crack of dawn and was tired from the heat and everything else.

"I'm going to go get a shower." He pushed himself up onto his feet with a groan.

Jon had no idea what he was going to do with the safe. It was an older style; it'd have a number somewhere on it, which made it identifiable. Maybe he'd find an old-school black smith and have the damn thing melted down and make jewelry out of it.

"Go for it, I think I'm gonna go and come back later. I should probably start finding a place to live instead of living out of hotels." Vallea stood up from the couch, really not wanting to leave, but it was obvious Jon didn't want her here for a long period of time. It was just a little after noon, so they had a good solid 8 hours before they could set fire to the evidence and be done with it. "I'll text you when I'm on my way back…or you can text me and let me know when to come back." Maybe she would grab a newspaper on the way back to the hotel and start looking for a place today – no time like the present since she refused to leave Vegas again.

"This is your house too, technically." He reminded her, pausing in the hallway to look at her, his face thoughtful.

Jon had no idea if they could ever try again and make things work. He wasn't sure if he wanted to try; he was a bit on the scared side that shit would hit the fan again. Though…all the causes of their problems were now dead. No, they still had…HE still had this Gary to contend with.

"Just a thought, doll."

"How can you say that to me? This isn't my house – I gave all of this up when I let Seth scare me to death and blackmail me." Vallea frowned, her emotions already on edge, and shook her head, not agreeing with him at all. Hell, he was renovating the place without her consent because this wasn't her house anymore. It was strictly his to do with as he pleased. "It's fine. I've accepted it and shit has been so hectic lately, I just haven't had a minute to actually look for a new place." She felt like a ping-pong ball over the past 2 years with how many times she moved.

He was renovating it because he couldn't deal with certain aspects that kept harassing him by triggering memories. Jon was a bit stuck with this house now because of her. He knew she hadn't meant for any of this to happen, so it wasn't exactly right to blame her, but that was also the truth of it. He wasn't going to risk that body somehow being found.

"All right," He shrugged his bare shoulders. "Offer stands."

"What offer?" Vallea raised a slow brow, gesturing around her with her hands. "Are you telling me to live here with you, after everything that's happened?"

This man had lost his mind. It was her fault that all of this had happened in the first place, whether Jon wanted to acknowledge it or not. Vallea took full responsibility for her actions, and she honestly didn't think there was a shot in hell for her and Jon anymore at this point.

"You make no sense. I think you're sleep deprived, and you need to shower and get some zzz's."

How would that look if they were living together again? Bouncing around between wrestlers before coming back to Jon…how would that make HIM look? Granted, Jon didn't care what others thought and, truthfully, neither did she, but it was still a very messed up situation.

"I'm offering you a room and that sort of thing, Vallea." He corrected, shaking his head. "Don't read into it." Jon had to fight to keep his face from betraying how he felt about saying those words. How it left this bitter taste on his tongue and a churning, acidic feeling in his gut. "Your call, doll." He disappeared down the hallway, needing that shower and getting away from her before the poker face fell.

She'd be gone by the time he got out; he was sure of it.

Offering her a room…Vallea shut her eyes at his words and could feel what was left of her heart shatter in her chest. She had nobody to blame except herself for losing the love of her life, the best thing that ever happened to her. Her address for mail was a PO Box currently, since she traveled so much and had been living out of hotels. Taking a room in the house she had shared with Jon at one point…could Vallea actually do it? Instead of leaving, she sat back on the couch and contemplated the offer, chewing her thumbnail. Jon walked out an hour later, freshly showered in basketball shorts, and the surprised look on his face almost made her crack a smile.

"What? You honestly thought I'd leave and not discuss this further with you?" He didn't know her very well then. "Because if you're offering me a place to stay, a room, then I have to go grab my things to bring back here. And I wasn't making two trips. So, are you sure you want to do this? You don't owe me anything, Jon, and you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Well, she was good at leaving, and the fact that he had thought that hurt. Damn, today was shaping up to be a downer. "I already know I don't owe you anything, and you should already know I don't do things I don't want to do." He was arrogant that way. "Anyone who knows us isn't going to really say shit." Half of them were probably expecting something to happen anyway. "You need help?" How much stuff did she have, and how many times was he going to move her back in with him? He rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to smile.

Probably a lot.

She had left everything that was in this house, so unless Jon got rid of it, which was a huge possibility, all she had was her luggage she traveled with. "No, I only have my two bags I travel with."

There was no way she would ask about her belongings; she went this long without them, and they weren't a high priority. When she left Jon for Seth, she had to buy all new clothes, shoes, toiletries, and anything else she used while on the road. Seth hadn't taken her back to Davenport, keeping her on the road for the 6 months he had his hooks into her, where he could keep full control.

"I won't be long." An hour tops since she hadn't had a chance to unpack her bags.

All the things she had left behind had been moved down into the basement. He had hired people to come pack it up and move it because, at the time, he couldn't deal with it. Jon would have probably gone into a fit of rage and shredded things, which he knew he would regret later.

"I'll, uh, get the guest room sorted for you." Move out his boxes of crap and find sheets and things she had put away in closets when they first bought the house.

"I'll help you do that and then go get my things."

If she was staying here and taking over a room, Vallea would help sort it out. Together, they moved his boxes down to the basement, one after the other. In the far corner, Vallea noticed boxes stacked on top of each other and had a feeling that was all of her things she'd left behind. Jon hadn't destroyed any of it, boxing it up instead. For some reason, hope flared in her heart, and she immediately squashed it, putting the boxes where Jon instructed.

"Okay, did you keep the clean linens and sheets in the closet or move them?" He shook his head, and she went upstairs to start making the bed. "Will you go get me the dust spray? Everything in here needs to be wiped down." It was DUSTY.

"Okay, just go get your shit, Vallea. I got this."

It'd be quicker if she went and got her things while he did this. That, and it'd keep him occupied and not go crazy waiting on her to come back. Why did this feel okay? Right even. Maybe things would work out, eventually. He did feel a tiny bit foolish, hoping this way. Third time a charm?

"Go on, I'll get the dust." He'd had this room shut up for a long while.

"Jon, you don't have to…" Vallea groaned when he shoved her out the door, tossing her purse at her gently but firmly. "Okay, Mister Pushy, okay, I'm going. Do you want me to grab something to eat while I'm out? You've gotta be starving…" When Jon told her to grab them some sandwiches from Subway, she smiled and nodded, ordering him to text her what he wanted on her way out the door.

An hour later, she walked through the door again, after stopping herself from knocking, with Subway and two bags in hand. Jon rushed to help her, and she handed over the food, taking her belongings to her room. It was so weird being under the same roof as him and not sharing a bed together. What would happen when he eventually moved on and brought someone home? Vallea didn't want to think about that happening, shoving that in the back of her mind and setting her bags down, looking around at the fresh-smelling room with a smile. In the hour she was gone, he had done an immaculate job cleaning this place, and it looked as if it hadn't been a storage area. Joining him in the kitchen, she grabbed her sandwich he handed her, along with the chips and drink, and both sat down at the table to chow down.

"The room looks fantastic. Thank you." Reaching over, she squeezed his hand briefly and then pulled back, taking another bite of her sandwich.

"Don't mention it."

Maybe they needed to just take this day by day and start as friends. Maybe become friends. There was no way he could jump back into it again with her. Last time, it had ended with her leaving him for Colby -and now he knew why. Jon doubted that was ever going to happen again. He knocked on the table, just in case, but he also knew they were never going to be like they once were.

"How's Joe?" He asked after a moment, anything to fill the awkward silence.

"As far as I know, he's here in Vegas for his days off, seeing his woman. Don't know much more than that."

Vallea didn't keep tabs on Joe since he wasn't her actual priority. Jon was the one she was supposed to personally assist, not Joe, besides this week. Weren't Jon and Joe best friends? They probably kept better tabs on each other than she did with Joe. Vallea didn't consider Joe a friend, only a coworker, and that would probably never change.

"I think we should set some ground rules if we're going to do this. I know the house is already bought, but…I want to pay to live here. I don't want a free ride on anything. I'll pay half of utilities, water, whatever bills are in this house, I'll pay half." She truly meant every word that came out of her mouth, refusing to let a man she wasn't with anymore support her. "And if you need the house to yourself one night, when we have time off, just let me know, and I'll make myself scarce."

"No," Jon stated before taking a bite of his sub. He wasn't playing by any rules, there would be no setting of rules. They had tried that before. He wasn't doing it again. "You're not likely to use up any more utilities than I am." Because days off were rare, this was the first time he had taken proper time off in a very long time, or at least that's what it felt like. "Besides, I had everything put on auto-pay, so I have no idea how much anything costs." He had quit worrying about it a while ago. "You can cook."

"Well, I'll just give you a couple thousand every month then. You can do whatever you want with the money. I'm not living here for free." There was a finality to her voice he wouldn't be able to argue against as she stood up from the table to clean her mess. "I'm gonna go unpack and try to get over this awkwardness. I won't have any mail coming here because I have a PO Box." That was a random piece of information for him to know, but she felt it was necessary. Walking down the hallway to her room, Vallea shut the door behind her and slid down it, hoping she was doing the right thing. Her life was in shambles, and she had no idea how to fix it or what to do anymore, burying her face in her hands.

Because he was going to take her money – NOT! It wasn't like she could just deposit it into his account either because things didn't work that way. She'd be better off donating it to a charity. There was an idea. Sighing, Jon cleared up his own mess and then tried to sort out what to do. She was in the house again. He could smell her damn perfume, taunting and teasing him. How was it they had gone from passionately, madly in love to this awkwardness? He reached for his beer, draining it. Even with everything that had happened between them, how could they not at least…be easier in each other's company?

That night, Jon built a fire like he said he would, and Vallea held the file in her hand, the VHS tape and DVD already destroyed. They were still going to burn the pieces, not taking any chances. She looked up at the starry night sky, clutching the file, and looked back at the roaring flames, taking a shaky breath.

"You didn't win, Rollins. And I hope you're burning in all eight circles of hell for what you did to me. To Jon." To us, she mentally added, pulling something else out of her pocket and tossing it into the fire first.

It was the engagement ring, the three-stoned diamond ring she was forced to wear from Seth. Piece by piece, they burned the evidence together, the smoke billowing up to the sky as everything turned to ashes. Granted, Gary was still out there, but without evidence of what happened, he wasn't a threat any longer and had been paid off well to keep his mouth shut. The final piece burned, and she tossed the folder in for good measure before wrapping her arms around herself, silent tears falling down her cheeks. It was over…and just beginning all at the same time because with the evidence taken care of, maybe Vallea could finally start to heal.

Admittedly, Jon was a bit worried that this Gary might have copies or something, but something told him that Colby wouldn't have wanted anyone besides him to hold that evidence. Hold that power. Because that's what it had been to Colby. Power over Jon and power over Vallea, the power to ruin their lives. The power to hurt. The man had deserved being stabbed through the neck and more.

He saw the tears glistening on her face as firelight lit her up after he had added more wood, wanting to make sure nothing remained behind. Frowning, Jon walked around to her, reaching out with a hesitant hand. He touched her back, palm gently curving over her shoulder, and he felt all hesitance disappear when she turned and buried her face in his chest. He could both hear and feel her crying now, her shoulders shaking and his arms wrapped around her, head coming down to rest on top of hers.

"It's over, doll." He whispered, his eyes closing as if to ward himself against the helplessness her tears were causing him. "It's over."

Crying was part of the healing process.

For months, she had cried out of sorrow, pain, anguish, heartache, guilt, fear…Now, she was crying because she felt so relieved to finally be rid of the monster, to know that Jon was protected and would never go to prison. Her arms tightened around Jon, feeling his strength and protection surround her, nodding to acknowledge she heard him. Vallea couldn't talk, her tears soaking his bare skin, and couldn't pull away even if she wanted to. She didn't want to. She didn't want to let Jon go ever again. Were they ever destined to be together, to be happy? Or would it come in intervals until something else ripped them apart? Maybe it just wasn't in the cards for them, and that made Vallea cry harder because she truly believed Jon was her soul mate, the one she was meant to be with.