Damaged Amazon

by Kim Pritekel

  Jill chuckled. “Me. Considering I’m the one who has thrown them for the past sixteen years.”

  “Hey now,” he said, eyeing her in the mirror. “I’m working on being home more.”

  She smiled and reached over to playfully pinch his behind. “Do you think everyone had a good time?”

  “Definitely.” He squeezed some bright blue minty fresh goo on his toothbrush. “You did a fantastic job, baby. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, and I know the kids loved it.”

  “Did you see LJ and Rachel?” Jill asked, a devilish grin on her freshly scrubbed face.

  “Is that who that was? The blond woman, right?”

  “Yep. She was Shannon’s nurse in ICU and”—she shrugged—“they seemed to hit it off, so I figured why not invite her. Plus, I’m sure she was happy to see how well Shannon is doing.”

  “Isn’t it a little soon?” Andrew asked, sticking the toothbrush into his mouth to begin to brush.

  “Oh hell, Andy, I truly believe his marriage was over years ago. I can’t even remember the last time I saw a scintilla of affection between LJ and Adrienne. And hey, either way, he can make a new friend, right?”

  He nodded as he continued to brush, Jill following suit at her own sink.

  “So,” he said, checking his straight, white teeth in the mirror as he tapped his rinsed toothbrush on the side of the sink. “I hope you won’t be mad at me for this.”

  Still brushing, she glanced over at him, giving him her attention.

  “You know I hired Corey Phelps, that young attorney out of Pittsburgh to help with my caseload so I can be home more often and spend time with Tyler?”

  Jill nodded in acknowledgment.

  “Tonight I asked Shannon if she wanted to be his assistant.” He shrugged, hand resting on the marble vanity top. “You know, filing, answering phones, keeping his schedule together, that kind of thing.”

  Jill dropped her toothbrush into the sink and spat out the excess foam and quickly rinsed her mouth. “You did what?” she asked, using a tissue to wipe her mouth.

  “Shit,” he said. “I was hoping you wouldn’t be mad. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you first because of the part—Umph!”

  Jill clung to him, her face buried in his neck. “Thank you, Andy,” she whispered. She smiled when she heard his relieved sigh as he wrapped his arms around her.

  “She deserves a chance to start over,” he said.

  Jill nodded, tears coming to her eyes. “She does.” She backed out of the hug and grabbed a fresh tissue to dab at her eyes, giving him a smile, feeling foolish at her sudden emotion. “But, she still needs time to heal, to be okay.”

  Andrew nodded, leaning his hip against the vanity. “I know. I spoke with Mary on Friday. She’s willing to help carry the load for Corey until we can get Shannon in and trained.” He smiled. “She’d have a good wage and benefits.”

  “And some skills,” Jill added.

  “And some skills. I think it could be good for her, honey.”

  Jill was overwhelmed with love for the man standing before her. She cleaned up her toothpaste mess then turned to him, snaking her arms up around his neck. “Let’s go to bed.”

  ****

  It was late and Sarah was tired. The training had gone well, which she was pleased with. She walked into the dark, quiet townhouse. She wasn’t sad that Leslie was gone, but sometimes the silence could be deafening.

  Tossing her keys on the breakfast bar, she set her purse down next to them before shrugging out of her jacket to hang it in the closet. She was halfway there when she stopped, her mind leaving the home she’d had for years and heading down a quiet country lane.

  She glanced back toward the kitchen, which led to the garage door and ultimately to her car. Turning away, she again headed for the closet by the front door only to stop again.

  Twenty-five minutes later, Sarah killed the ignition and pulled her key free before gathering her phone and climbing out of the Mustang. She glanced at the house when she saw the porch light over the kitchen door click on.

  Smiling at that, Sarah closed the driver’s side door as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake anyone else in the house. She crunched her way across the gravel until she reached the cement path that led to the stairs. As she reached them, Nora pushed open the door.

  “Hey,” Sarah said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Come on in—it’s a cold one tonight.”

  Sarah hurried inside, Nora closing and locking the door behind her. She felt stupid as she stood in the kitchen, noting that Nora was dressed in her robe. “Jeez, I’m sorry. I should go—”

  “No, I’m glad you called.” Nora looked into her eyes, head slightly tilted to the side. “Are you okay?”

  Sarah looked down at her feet for a moment before she spared a glance at Nora. “Have you ever just not wanted to be alone?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

  Nora said nothing as she gave her a soft smile. She grabbed one of Sarah’s hands and tugged lightly as she headed toward the living room and stairs. “Come on,” she said, flicking off the kitchen light. “Let’s get some sleep.”

  ****

  Nora’s eyes slowly opened. It was early, the sun not fully awake, nor was she. She was, however, awake enough to realize Sarah slept beside her. Lying on her back, she turned her head from her position to study Sarah’s face. She couldn’t get enough of the strong yet beautiful features. Sarah had always been attractive, but she’d matured into a stunning woman. Her gaze fell to full lips, so soft, so inviting.

  Slowly she brought a hand out from beneath the covers and reached out, the tips of her finger finding the soft skin of a defined yet feminine jaw. She trailed along the natural line until she reached Sarah’s chin, her fingertip following down along her throat to the side of her neck.

  Sarah’s eyes slowly fluttered open, taking a moment to focus on Nora’s. Once they did, the softest of smiles touched her lips. Neither of them said a word as Sarah turned to her side, facing Nora. She reached under the covers, urging Nora to move toward her.

  Nora moved into Sarah’s arms, sighing as she was held against her, her face tucked into Sarah’s neck. The feel of Sarah’s warm body—dressed in a borrowed T-shirt and shorts—pressed against her elicited a soft sigh from her throat. She loved the smell of Sarah’s skin: leftover perfume from the previous day along with the warm scent of sleep. It always amazed her how sleep seemed to have its own smell.

  She wrapped her arm around Sarah’s waist, her hand tucking beneath her opposite side against the mattress. Sarah nuzzled her hair, her hand running down Nora’s side, getting dangerously close to her behind as it rested on her hip.

  The air in the room was changing quickly, as was Nora’s heart rate and her breathing. Sarah’s breasts pressed right above her own, and Sarah’s warm neck was so close to her lips, before Nora could stop herself, she left a kiss there. The soft sigh that resulted sent a spark shooting through her body.

  Sarah’s hand cupped her behind when Nora’s phone rang. She was going to ignore it, but then she realized how early it was and that it was LJ’s ring. He’d never call her so early without good reason.

  “God, I’m sorry,” she said, pulling away from Sarah. “I’m sorry.” She turned over and reached to her nightstand. “Hey, this better be important.” Nora lay back down on the bed with the phone held to her ear. She glanced over at Sarah who lay on her side, upper body raised and head leaning on a fist. She had to wonder how on earth the woman could look so beautiful and sexy first thing in the morning. “Turn on the TV? Why?” Nora shot up, the covers falling to her waist. “What?” She ran a trembling hand through her hair, the tears instantly coming. “What?”

  Sarah sat up and moved to sit next to her, a hand on Nora’s knee.

  The phone slid out of Nora’s hands as the sobs tore through her. She vaguely felt Sarah retrieve the phone from her lap and heard her soft voice.

  “LJ, this is Sarah. W
hat’s wrong and what do you need Nora to do?”

  ****

  Jill cleared her throat again as she sat in the uncomfortable metal chair, a small ledge before her and a rectangular bulletproof glass window with a small cubicle of sorts on the other side. The chair was not yet inhabited. A phone was mounted on either side of the glass, Jill’s receiver still cradled.

  She held onto the purse that rested in her lap, searched before she came in. Though it was simply a leather Michael Kors handbag, at the moment it was her teddy bear, a connection to the world she knew beyond the walls of this sterile, scary place.

  She started at the sound of a loud buzz. In the mesh screen wall behind the cubicle she faced, she saw an officer leading someone in. That someone was dressed in what looked like orange scrubs with a white T-shirt underneath. It was her father.

  Larry, Sr. was ushered into the cubicle. Once her father was safely there, the officer backed up, hand held close to his utility belt. Jill had to look away for a moment, her emotions rising as she laid eyes on him. She waited until he got comfortable and picked up the receiver of his phone before she picked up hers.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hello.” It was so strange to see him sitting three feet away yet they sounded miles apart. Not entirely sure what to say next, she asked, “How are they treating you?”

  “Well, you know,” he said, sitting as far back in his chair as the phone cord would allow. “Food sucks, but some of the guys in here are okay. Lots of questions about my days playin’ ball, you know.”

  She nodded, her stomach churning. She cleared her throat and met his gaze. “Did you do this?” She felt guilty for asking, but she had to know. Her siblings deserved that much, too.

  Larry, Sr. sighed. “Eh, Jilly, you know things between your mom and me were always difficult. She was so damn nosy, always wanted to be in my business—”

  “Did you?”

  ****

  Pueblo, Colorado 1992

  Larry, Sr. entered the house; a song whistled from his lips. He was happy his team had won at the Pueblo Ice Arena. Football was his passion, but a gifted athlete at anything he tried, he enjoyed the amateur hockey league he played with and carried the blue-and-white duffel bag with all his gear up the stairs as he headed to the bedroom. The house was fairly quiet, a TV playing somewhere. It was nearly ten, and he and the boys had gone out for a beer after their victory.

  He headed down the hallway that would take him to what was essentially the wing of the large house he shared with Judy. The double doors of the master bedroom were closed, which irritated him. He grabbed the handle of one side and shoved, the doorknob on the opposite side of the door banging into the wall behind the door.

  “Why the fuck was this closed?” he asked, walking into the room.

  When there was no answer, he looked around. The king-sized four-poster was still made, unlike what he’d expected, which was to see a naked Judy waiting for him. That’s what he told her he wanted when he got back from the game. Instead there were two closed suitcases and a third that was open and half-filled.

  Dropping the duffel bag on the floor, he walked over to the open suitcase, fingering a folded shirt on the top of the pile. “What the fuck, Judy?” he boomed, glancing toward the master bath.

  The mousy woman appeared a moment later, her makeup bag in one hand and hair dryer in the other. “I’m leaving, Larry,” she said in her usual quiet voice, a voice that annoyed the shit out of him. She always sounded like she was afraid of the world.

  “Come again?” he said, a laugh in his voice.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” she said, dropping her bundles into the suitcase. She didn’t look at him as she continued. “I know about all the women. I know about…” She spared him a glance. “I know, Larry. About everything.”

  He stiffened and stood to his full, intimidating height, chest puffed out slightly. His large hands balled into fists before they were released. “What do you mean?” he asked, voice deceivingly calm.

  “Larry,” Judy said, emotion in her voice. “I’ve done everything for you that I could. I raised our children and hers.”

  He eyed her, a small smile on his lips. “Don’t even mention her,” he said.

  Judy’s hands seemed to move only for the sake of moving as she rearranged the items in the suitcase. “Larry,” she whispered. “I saw your pictures.”

  He could feel the rage building.

  “I can’t let you do this to her anymore. To any of them. I’m leaving and I’m taking her, LJ, Nora, and… and I’m taking Shannon, too.”

  “You’re not taking Shannon anywhere.”

  Like a flash, he was on her, a hand around her throat, her petite body shoved against the wall. This wasn’t a new position for her to be in, but Larry, Sr. felt this was something different.

  “How dare you talk to me that way,” he growled. “Who do you think you are?”

  “Larry,” she gasped, pale hands tugging uselessly at his iron-like grip. “I can’t…Larry…”

  He realized she was lifted off the ground when her feet kicked at his shins. With a growl, he moved her away from the wall only to slam her back into it, her head thudding against the drywall.

  “You will never take my children from me,” he said, spittle landing on her eyelashes. “You will never tell me what to do with my children. You will never get into my business again, snooping around into things you have no right to be in!” he roared, slamming her head against the wall with each word.

  Overtaken with rage, he could no longer even see her face. He brought up his other hand to join the first, squeezing, his teeth bared with murderous intent. With one final slam, he released his hands, Judy Schaeffer falling to the ground, coughing violently as she tried to catch her breath.

  “Bitch,” he said, looking into her face. “You think you can threaten me?” he asked, grunting with the kick he delivered to her stomach. She cried out in pain. He kicked her again, only for her to cry out again. “Shut up!” Another kick. He heard a satisfying crack and more cries from her. “Fucking cunt.”

  Looking around, he spotted his hockey bag and hurried over to it, rage still driving his every move. He unzipped it and rummaged through it, throwing out sticks, pucks, pads, and one of his skates before he found what he was looking for.

  The tape ripped free from the roll with the telltale sound. He tried to tear it, but his trembling hands wouldn’t cooperate. He brought it up to his teeth only for some of his hair to get caught up in it.

  “Fucker!”

  He tore the tape free from his hair, taking a few strands with it, then managed to rip off a piece. Holding it between thumbs and forefingers, he hurried back over to a crying Judy and roughly applied it to her mouth. She tried to fight him, but he was too strong.

  Getting to his feet, he began to let her have it and let her have it good. Every ounce of fury and frustration in him came out as he unleashed on the woman he’d seen as an anchor to his gleaming ship for far too long.

  After several minutes, he was sweaty and panting as he looked down at the unmoving body on the floor. Blood seeped into the carpet.

  “Fuck.”

  Picking her up like a sack of potatoes, he walked to the master bathroom and flung her unceremoniously into the bathtub so he could go back to the bedroom and clean up the mess.

  On his hands and knees, he scrubbed, getting much of it, but there were still a few spots. He sat back on his feet, out of breath and exhausted. He tossed out the face cloth he’d used for cleanup, turned off the bathroom light and threw Judy’s luggage off the bed. Shedding his clothing, he climbed into bed naked.

  Four hours later, Larry, Sr. woke having to use the bathroom. His mind fuzzy and muscles sore, he climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom, stubbing his toe on one of his hockey sticks. He cursed loudly as he continued on his way. Flipping the toilet lid and seat open with a loud snap of porcelain against porcelain, he groaned long and loud as he released his bladder.
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  He reached up a hand to scratch across his chest. His jaw cracked with the size of his yawn, and it was in the middle of that that he noticed the unmoving figure in the tub. He absently reached down to flush as he turned to look down at Judy. She was lying in the same position as when she’d been dumped, her eyes closed and dried blood plastering the side of her face.

  “Judy?” he said, shoving the shower curtain farther aside. “Hey, get the fuck up.” He used the side of his bare foot to lightly kick the tub. “Hey.”

  When there was no movement or reaction of any kind, he lowered himself to his knees on the mat in front of the tub. Reaching over, he used his thumb to lift one of her eyelids. The unseeing, bloodshot eye that met his gaze made him cringe. He fell back onto his butt, not even registering the cold tile against his naked skin as he stared at her, realization of what had happened hitting him.

  “Fuck.”

  ****

  Jill watched him carefully as he’d grown silent for a long moment. “You owe us that much, Daddy,” she said quietly.

  Suddenly, his eyes were filled with rage as he focused on her. “Owe you? I owe you?” he laughed cruelly. “Who took care of you after she was gone, huh? Who took care of Larry, Jr., Nora, and Shannon?”

  “I did,” she said coolly.

  “Don’t talk to me like that, Jill,” he said, pointing a finger at her through the glass. “You and I have always been close. Don’t throw that away.”

  “Close,” she said, voice dull as though it was the first time she’d ever heard that word before. “We were close. Is that what you call it?”

  “Jilly,” he said, his own voice turning from hard and threatening to sweet and kind. “Jilly, I’ve always loved you, you know that. I gave you anything you ever wanted. You say I owe you, but you owe me. Right?”

  “Did you kill my mother?” Jill asked, her heart hardening with every single beat, blood cooling with every inch of the journey it took through her body. “Did you?”