by Kylie Walker
Just after five o’clock, people began pouring out of the building. He had his phone out and was casually skimming through it as he watched. A group of women came out and walked towards the parking garage. None of them looked young enough to be Chantelle. He had a pretty good memory of what she looked like, but women had a tendency to change their hair and their weight had a tendency to fluctuate. He saw a woman just then who could be the one he was waiting for. She was a tall, willowy brunette.
When Jesse saw Chantelle, she had her hair down. He remembered it because it was just masses of wiry curls. This woman had hers up in a bun, so it was hard to be sure. She was the one that looked most like her and she was walking in the right direction…alone. He stood up and stretched and when there was another surge of three or four people who came out and began walking in the same direction, he merged in behind them.
Chantelle walked with a lazy grace, never once looking back over her shoulder or seeming to notice there was anyone behind her at all. She got to the end of the street and turned right onto Amsterdam. The group in front of Jesse went left. He stopped at the corner and watched her. The street she was on now was quiet without many people out and about. He looked up at the sign. It was 164th Street. He didn’t want to follow her on this one. If she turned around, or anyone remembered seeing him there later. That would be all bad. This wasn’t the street she lived on, but that was alright. He had her address. She wasn’t going to be hard to find. He went left and followed the other group to the end of the street. When he got to the next corner, he looked back. Chantelle was out of sight. He turned back around and headed in that direction again.
Instead of continuing on when he got back to the corner where he’d lost her, he turned back towards the D.A.’s office and walked towards his car. It was close to six o’clock now and he’d been parked on the street for almost two hours. He had to be really careful not to get a ticket. He drove the car along the street Chantelle had taken on her route home and he parked along 164th.
He got out then and walked to the end of that street and turned left. Chantelle’s building was the fourth one on the street. It was on the corner of Edgecombe and 163rd in a really nice neighborhood. His Dad and the city of N.Y. must be paying their employees well. The buildings all held anywhere from ten to fifty apartments. Chantelle’s building was a converted brownstone that probably only held about ten studio apartments.
The neighborhood was livelier on this street and people were out jogging and riding their bikes. Jessie walked along one of the jogging trails for a while, just checking things out until the sun began to go down. The deeper the sun sunk into the horizon and the grayer the city began to look; the fewer people were out in the neighborhood.
When things quieted down, Jesse stepped inside the double doors of Chantelle’s building. There was another set of doors with a buzzer to get inside, and this small entryway held the mailboxes. The boxes had names and numbers on them. Chantelle lived in 2B. Her name was the only one on the mailbox, her maiden name. He hoped that meant she hadn’t gotten married and she didn’t have a roommate. He probably wouldn’t “talk” to her here anyways.
The fact that she lived on the second story would pose a problem. At least he knew that she walked to and from work, and from the looks of the neighborhood, she probably did some recreational walking on her days off as well. That would be useful. Realizing that he was hungry all of a sudden, Jesse turned and headed back towards his car. He put his hands in his pockets and whistled as he walked.
CHAPTER NINE
It had taken some doing, but Derek had at last convinced Chloe to ask Roxy for more time off. He needed to know she was safe and he couldn’t protect her there. He dropped her off at the club, making sure before he left that she was under the watchful eye of Jake and with the promise she would call him as soon as she was ready. Then he drove to his office. He took care of a few things when he got there that couldn’t wait and then he got busy with the business that he couldn’t get off his mind.
Before they left New York, Chloe had shared with him the story of the night Jesse finally went off the deep end and tried to kill her. It all started because he’d come home from work and found her talking to a neighbor at the mailbox downstairs. She said that she’d tried to hurry because she knew Jesse was expected home any minute. She risked at the very least a severe tongue lashing if he caught her talking to another man. At worst…what had happened that night.
When they got upstairs, he’d asked her, “What were you and Stanton talking so cozily about?”
“He was just asking me who he was supposed to call about pest control. His wife saw a spider or something,” she’d told him.
“He couldn’t have asked the super?”
“Yeah, he said he was going to call him…but he ran into me first and…”
“And you were dressed like a slut so he made conversation so he could stare at your tits.”
“He wasn’t looking at me, Jesse.” She said.
Jesse had been quiet then for a minute and then he’d smiled and said, “I believe you.”
She cautiously smiled back and said, “Thank you.”
“You want to know why I believe you?” She hadn’t really, but she’d nodded. “Because you’re nothing to look at. You flaunt yourself like a slut and it’s really embarrassing. I think you need a boob job. We’ll make an appointment.”
“No Jesse. I don’t want to have surgery. I’m okay with…”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence. He grabbed her by the throat and pushed her against the wall. “It doesn’t matter what you’re okay with. I want new boobs to play with, so you’ll have surgery…or I’ll just find a pair attached to a less worthless bitch.”
Chloe told Derek that she hadn’t known what came over her that night, but she’d just had enough. How dare he think he could order her to have surgery? He already picked out her clothes and dictated her hairstyles and monitored and criticized everything she did.
She snapped and said, “Go ahead, Jesse. Do whatever you need to do. I will not have surgery and you can’t force me to.” Something darker than anything she’d ever seen passed between his eyes then and he’d grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the kitchen. Once in there, he grabbed a carving knife out of the block on the counter.
“You don’t want to have surgery? Maybe I’ll just cut them off then?”
She was fired up and not thinking clearly, otherwise, she would have been trying to calm him down. Instead, she’d found that voice inside of her that said, “No more.” She knew she only had one shot. She raised her knee and let it land hard in the soft spot right between his legs. His eyes had gone wide and as he doubled over, he dropped the knife.
She told Derek that to this day; she wished that she’d thought of picking it up. That night had been the worst beating of her life, but she finally found a way to lock herself in the bathroom and call Chantelle. All she had thought about was getting away. Thank god for Chantelle, or she would not have survived the night.
Derek listened to her stories with the rage building inside of him, reaching dangerous levels. He sat at his desk now and typed in Jesse’s name. The hits came back with Vince’s election to D.A. and his bio. An NYU graduation announcement. An announcement that he’d joined a big law firm in New York and then nothing but front page articles…about his arrest.
The headlines almost all read, ‘Jesse Donovan - Son of N.Y. City District Attorney, Vince Donovan arrested for domestic violence and attempted murder.’ He skimmed through them all. Nowhere in the articles did it mention the “girlfriend’s” name. He went to a site where someone can access public records and he pulled up the court case. That was where he saw Chloe’s former name: Kelly Ward. She was listed as the “victim” and “lead witness for the prosecution.” Then a few months later, there was an article about Jesse taking a plea deal. Under the deal, he would plead to a lesser sentence and be remanded to State Prison for a term not to exceed two years.
Derek picked up the phone and dialed his father’s office. “Dad, I need to see you, tonight.”
“Okay son, are you in New York?”
“No, I need you to come here. It’s important.”
Derek knew his father would know that he wouldn’t call and demand a meeting with him unless it was something urgent. “Okay son, I’ll leave right after lunch. I can be there by four.”
“Perfect,” Derek told him. “Meet me at the yacht. And Dad…”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.” Derek had gained something from all Chloe had been through and that was a new appreciation for just how lucky he’d gotten in the parental department. That gave him another thought too. He needed to broach the subject of meeting the Whitemore’s again with Chloe.
**
Chloe was sitting in Roxi’s office. Roxi was sitting behind her desk looking at her and Chloe was waiting for her to speak. When she finally did, she said, “Are you quitting?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know. I’m not ready to quit this instant, but I need some time to prepare before he shows up.”
“Jake wouldn’t let him in here, you know. And Brock is watching the condo and Lexi.”
“I know, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for us, but you don’t understand Roxi.”
“I understand more than you know,” she said. “I’ve had an experience or two.” She said it casually, but for a brief second, Chloe saw something in her eyes and she was sure that Roxi really did know what she’d been through. Chloe hated knowing that and felt comforted by it at the same time. “Take what time you need. Will you be staying at the condo?”
“Yeah, if Brock will still be around?”
Roxi laughed and said, “Even if I fired him, I think you’d still see him. He’s hooked on Lexi.”
“He’s a good guy?” Chloe asked her.
“He is,” Roxi said. “I’ve known him a long time. He wouldn’t ever hurt her, but I guarantee you that if anyone ever tried to, he’d have no problem fucking them up. Badly.”
“Good,” Chloe said with a smile. Sometimes the propensity for the violence she’d become so acclimated to surprised her. She rationalized it by telling herself it was necessary…both because of the atmosphere they worked in and in her case, the man who wanted her dead.
“You’ll let me know if you need anything?” Roxi asked her.
“I will. Thanks again for everything, Rox.”
Chloe sat with Lexi and Jake until Derek arrived to pick her up. He was disappointed that she wanted to go home to the Condo instead of staying with him on the yacht but he seemed to know that pressuring her right now wasn’t going to help her along with trusting him. She let him come in to make sure that the house was all clear when they got there, to ease his mind and she also introduced him to Brock. He left Brock with his number and instructions to call him if there was any sign of anything suspicious.
As he was getting ready to go, he told her, “If you need anything at all— I mean anything, please call me.”
“I will,” she told him, truly appreciative of him and all he was willing to do for her.
“There’s one more thing,” he said. Chloe raised an eyebrow at him. She wasn’t sure she was ready for “one more thing.”
“What’s that?” she said.
“We still have some unfinished business with the Whitemore’s.”
“Which is?”
“Chloe,” he said, taking her hands in his. “These are good people. You need all the good people in your corner that you can get. I’m absolutely convinced that they’re your parents. Please tell me that you’ll meet with them at least. Once that is done, you’ll be free to decide what if any kind of contact or relationship you want to have with them.”
“I’ll give it some thought,” she said. She was exhausted. She didn’t have energy left to argue…or to commit.
He pressed his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes. “You are so beautiful and so amazing. Don’t ever forget that, okay?”
She felt her breath catch in her throat. It was something she was getting used to when Derek was around. She nodded, fighting back the tears again. If this man was for real, they definitely broke the mold. He gave her a sweet kiss before he finally left and as soon as he was gone she felt lonely.
Chloe went into her room and took out her journal. She wrote:
July 2,
So much has happened over the past few days. I went to the fundraiser and came face to face with Vince Donovan. It was almost comparable to feeling the edge of Jesse’s knife slicing my skin open all over again. I know that by now he’s told Jesse where I am and each minute of the day now, I have to remind myself to breathe. The one bright light in all of this has been Derek. I finally broke down and told him everything.
He knows about my father, Tom Ward. He knows about Jesse and he knows about Kelly Ward. Do I trust him? Almost. I’m still working on it, but I’m really almost there. He’s been so sweet and kind and supportive. He makes me feel strong and capable and he makes me remember that I’ve spent every waking hour for the past two years preparing for the day that Jesse walked out of those prison gates. I haven’t checked my messages yet, but I expect there to be one from Chantelle that says he’s out. I’ve been putting it off because reading those words will make it real for me. I have to believe that this time I’m going to beat him. I told myself that night, “Never again,” and I meant it. Jesse will never hurt me again; if I have to kill him to prevent that from happening…then that’s what I’m prepared to do.
CHAPTER TEN
“Thank you for coming, Dad.” Derek welcomed his father onto the yacht. He fixed them both a drink and his dad said, “Of course. It sounded urgent. Does this have anything to do with your girl running out of the party the other night?”
“Yeah, it does,” he said. “Dad, did Vince Donovan say anything after we left about Chloe?”
“Not to me, why? What does Vince have to do with it?”
“Dad, tell me what you know about Jesse.”
His father made a face then. It was one of blatant distaste. “That boy is nothing but trouble. He’s nearly thirty years old and he’s still causing heart ache to his mother and father.”
“You know that he’s been in prison?”
“Yes, Vince just picked him up a couple of days ago.”
“Is he staying with his parents?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Why all the interest in Jesse?”
Derek took a deep breath. There was no one on earth he trusted more than his own father, but he had to say it, “I have to have you promise me, Dad, that you won’t say anything about what I’m going to tell you to Vince, okay?”
His father furrowed his brow and said, “I won’t say anything. You’re making me a little nervous here.”
“I’m sorry,” Derek told him. “I don’t mean to be cloak and dagger about this, but once I tell you, you’ll understand.”
“Okay, tell me.”
“Jesse was in prison because he tried to kill his girlfriend. That girl was Chloe.”
“Your girl, Chloe?” Derek smiled at the way his father called her “Your girl.”
“Yes. She told me about just a portion of her time with Jesse. He’s a monster Dad and I’m afraid of what I might do if I ever come face to face with him.”
“Vince said it wa
s a heated argument that got out of control and Jesse was drinking and things got out of hand. I offered to defend him but son of a bitch!”
“Vince didn’t want you to know the truth.”
“Which is?”
“Jesse used a knife on her. She has a scar down her side and across her abdomen to prove it. That was far from his first attack on her, but he intended for it to be the last. He told her he was going to kill her that night and if her friend hadn’t called 911, he would have succeeded.”
“Oh my God. Vince downplayed it so much and the papers even reported it sort of like you “average” domestic violence case. That poor girl.”
“Yes,” Derek said, “And Dad, you don’t even know the half of it. I need a really big favor.”
“Sure, anything.”
“I need you to keep an eye on Jesse and Vince. I need to know where Jesse is living, what he’s up to during the day and at night. Who he sees, where he goes.”
His father was nodding. He finally said, “You think he’ll come after her.”
“He told her that he would and she believes him. That’s good enough for me.”
“Okay. I’ll find out where Jesse is and we’ll put someone on him. Dear God, it’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? I mean, I see this sort of thing every day in my work, but you don’t expect your best friend’s son to be…”
“Satan’s spawn?” Derek finished.
“Yeah, something like that,” his father said. “I just feel so bad for that poor girl.”
“Me too, but you know what Dad?”
“What’s that, son?”