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Trusting Jake

Page 3

by Casey Hagen

“There you are. You okay?” he asked, letting her go and taking a step back.

  Her eyelids fluttered, and her blue eyes glowed with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m counting on that being the last time you apologize to me.” He headed for the water cooler, filled two cups, and handed her one. “You’re actually a whole lot better at this than I expected. First and foremost, we have to work on that panic. Nothing I teach you will be worth a shit if you freeze up in the moment.”

  “So you’ll help me?” she asked, staring at him over the cup.

  He nodded, leaned forward, and propped his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, I’ll help you.”

  Short, clean nails picked at the edge of her empty cup. “Is this going to get you in trouble?”

  He snorted. “Probably.”

  “With the guy that was here earlier?” she asked, glancing toward the door.

  He followed her gaze, amazed at how perceptive she was. But then, abuse victims got real good at reading cues. “Yup.”

  “Then why?” she asked.

  The room swelled with the silence until his ears buzzed. “Because I can.”

  She tossed her cup in the trash. “You say that like there was a time you couldn’t.”

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t so much as look at her as memories flooded him, making it hard to speak. “There was.” Two words, but it was all that he could manage as a familiar rage mingled with a lifetime of shame.

  He pushed off the bench and crossed to her shirt and bag to pick them up. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “But wait,” she said, following him. “When are we starting?”

  He hitched the strap of her bag over her shoulder and held up her flannel shirt for her. “Tomorrow night. The gym closes at seven. I’ll expect you by quarter after. We’ll get started then,” he said as she thrust her arms through the sleeve holes.

  She clutched the fabric around her and gave him a relieved smile. “I wish you’d take the money. I don’t know how to repay you.”

  “Win,” he said as he reached out to smooth a strand of hair away from her eye and thought better of it. Nodding instead, he dropped his hand to his hips and took a step back. He cleared his throat. “If you’re ready, I’ll walk you out.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said, backing away from him.

  “Yes, I do. I’ll watch for you every night to walk you in, and I’ll walk you out. It’s non-negotiable.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He held up a palm and let her precede him. “You have a last name, Destiny?”

  “Pierce,” she said, tossing a glance over her shoulder.

  He stepped ahead of her once they got to the front door and scanned the parking lot before opening the door all the way for her. The rain had finally let up, leaving the scent of earth washed clean. Traffic had slowed to no more than a random car or two rolling through.

  This section of Long Beach shuttered early, making it a whole lot easier to spot danger hovering nearby.

  He figured they’d work at the gym for a week before he’d need to move her to the space Fierce had rented for more sophisticated training. He’d have to be a lot more careful since work was slated to begin on the space tomorrow. Time would tell if Fierce would take on the commercial space that had opened around it, but for now, it was enough for what he needed to do.

  She said she maybe had a month.

  He’d put together a plan to have her trained in two weeks. One thing he knew about abusers, they thrived off keeping their victims off-balance. Showing up early would do just that.

  “Are you separated from your husband or just hiding?” he asked as they approached her Toyota.

  She shrugged. “I’ve left, but then I’ve left before. He’s always managed to threaten me with something to bring me back. This time there’s nothing left to threaten me with.”

  She hit the key fob, and her car beeped and headlights flickered. Reaching past her, he opened her car door and waited for her to climb in. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” she said as she fastened her seatbelt.

  “Why didn’t you report him?”

  An onyx eyebrow tilted as her face flared with a bit of defiance. “What makes you think I didn’t?”

  “Because he’d be behind bars where he belongs,” Jake said, knowing it wasn’t always that easy, but at the same time, needing answers as to why women put up with it.

  Why his mother put up with it.

  She’d never once called the police on his father. She’d made excuses for him, said it was her fault, and vowed to be better the next time around.

  She’d walked on eggshells and tension and worry, making the tension lines around her mouth more distinct and the light in her eyes dim more and more until it died out completely.

  Her hands flexed on the wheel. “I did report him. I went through his chain of command to his supervising officer.”

  A surge of white-hot anger shot through Jake’s blood. “He’s military?”

  She nodded. “Navy.”

  “Destiny—”

  She cleared her throat. “He was nice enough to tell me how to be a better wife so my husband wouldn’t have to punish me anymore.” She scrubbed away a tear that raced down her flushed skin. “Then he was kind enough to tell my husband what I’d reported. My husband later beat me until I lost our child.” Without another glance, she grabbed her door handle and slammed her door right before she fired up her engine and squealed her tires in her haste to get away from the gym, him, her memories, hell, maybe all three. Only Destiny knew.

  Chapter 4

  Destiny skidded to a halt in a well-lit section of the parking lot next to the Hyatt Regency. Just like at the gym, she studied her surroundings before jogging into the lobby and heading for the top floor.

  Sean had spared no expense and used his clout and business account to keep her as safe as possible by planting her right in the VIP suite. You could do that when you were a partner in one of the most elite law firms in the state of California. She’d gone on the laptop he’d left her in the room to see how much it was costing him a night and almost swallowed her tongue.

  Watchful eyes surrounded her. If Carter got to her there, which she highly doubted, one of the many security cameras would at least record her final moments so maybe, just maybe, the son of a bitch wouldn’t slide through the greasy fingers of justice.

  He’d be expecting her to be hunkered down somewhere cheap and seedy. She was sure of it. It’s what she had done in the past, knowing that he loathed the particle board and Formica lifestyle.

  He didn’t know about Sean. She’d never reached out for help before, but with several failed attempts at leaving because her own pride stopped her from asking for help, she decided it was time to accept that she just couldn’t do this whole thing alone. Sean had been her childhood best friend, at least up until high school. For years, their families socialized together, and as a result, Sean seemed more like a familiar family member than just another Midwest good old boy.

  After confessing all, they’d hatched a plan to keep her safe. For now.

  She’d dyed her golden-brown hair a shade shy of full-on black. She’d made sure to match her eyebrows to her new hair color, and despite her general distaste for makeup, especially since she’d had to use a lifetime supply in her six years of covering bruises, she brushed her lashes daily with black mascara. When this was over, the closest she’d come to wearing makeup ever again was a tube of cherry ChapStick.

  More often than not, women in California, especially here, tended to go blond or at least for the sun-kissed look with blond highlights. Carter wasn’t stupid. Not at all. He’d be looking for her to change her appearance. He’d expect her to go blond so she could blend with the masses, because really, who chose to go so much darker other than rebellious teens and little old ladies trying to maintain their original hair color?

  Safely locked in her suite, she tossed the hat. She hat

ed the damn thing, and Carter knew it, so she made sure she wore it in public every chance she got, hoping it was just one more way to be overlooked.

  He’d be looking for a woman rejecting all things Carter. Well, she was embracing them and had every intention of using it against him.

  Especially the gym. He had forced her to work out for years, dragging her to their basement with him for two-hour workouts, almost daily, worried that she’d get fat and embarrass him.

  She hated sweating and the way red splotches rose on her cheeks when she did. Turns out he had too, but he only pushed her harder, all the while ridiculing her for being an ugly sweater.

  He’d never go looking for her at a run-down gym on the fringes of Long Beach.

  If everything went according to plan, the next time she saw him would be because she was ready and she had called him and told him where to find her.

  She curled up on the white linen couch, avoiding the metal framed chairs likely chosen to look sleek, but low on the comfort scale, and called Sean’s cell.

  “You made it,” he said, the sound of his words sounding like they floated on a rush of air as if he had been holding his breath.

  “Yeah, I’m here.” She picked at the hole forming in the knee of her favorite jeans. Carter hadn’t allowed her to wear denim; the one time she did, he went through her entire wardrobe and not only shredded every pair, but shredded anything else he didn’t care for as well.

  Well, all except for the pair she had on that she’d hidden under her scrapbook, holiday napkins, and fancy baking tins stored in the basement.

  He’d never allowed her to shop alone again and picked out just about everything in her closet from that point on.

  “So, how did it go? Is he going to help you?” Sean asked.

  “He is. We start tomorrow,” she confirmed.

  “How much did you tell him about what’s going on?”

  Too much, yet not enough. “I didn’t tell him Carter’s name, but I did tell him mine.” She took a breath, the silence spreading between them.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Destiny?” Sean asked, his normally affable voice dropping with warning.

  She pulled her knees to her chest and laid her free ear against her thigh. “And he knows that Carter is also in the Navy.”

  “Wait, didn’t you say this guy was military, too? Dammit, Destiny…why would you tell him that?”

  She winced at his words, not out of fear, but because the minute she had pulled out of the gym parking lot and wasn’t looking into Jake’s reassuring sage-green eyes, she’d asked herself the same damn thing. There was something about him. Some men told you they were honorable, and real men showed you.

  Jake had shown her his honor in spades. The way he trusted her to know her limits and didn’t placate her by treating her like a meek victim. The way he knew just when to stop because she hadn’t mastered controlling her panic. And the way he’d been protective, without being overbearing in the way he had set the safety parameters because, although he hadn’t said it in so many words, she was on his watch now. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s okay. Jake has seen this before.”

  “I’m sure he has being a self-defense instructor, but—”

  “No, I mean, he’s seen it firsthand,” she said. The words, there was something about the way they slipped from his lips with a note of vulnerability and regret.

  “He told you that?”

  He hadn’t looked at her when he’d said the words, he’d hid within himself, but that alone revealed something about the burden he carried.

  Shame.

  “Not in so many words, but yes. There was no mistaking that he’s been through this one way or another.”

  “I’d feel better if you let me check him out. What’s his name?”

  “I don’t want you going down there,” she warned.

  “I don’t plan to, but I want to run a background check on him at the very least.”

  She fidgeted with the hole on her knee again. “It feels like an invasion of privacy.” She didn’t want Jake poking around in her business. She wanted to choose what she shared. She wanted control. It felt wrong taking that control away from someone else.

  “Look, I know you feel a kind of kinship with this guy, but in your situation especially, it’s the smart thing to do. If for no other reason than to make sure this guy and Carter won’t be traveling in any of the same professional circles.”

  She sighed. He had a point, but she didn’t have to like it. “Okay, you’re right. I know you’re right.”

  “Another thing… I talked to my mother today. Uh, she said that she saw your mother at Dr. Miller’s. She said she didn’t look so good. She was pale and seemed to have lost some significant weight recently.”

  Destiny’s heart pitched.

  Not her mother.

  The woman had been her rock since the day Destiny’s father died of a heart attack when she was twelve. She’d pulled the frayed edges of what had once been their life in so tight that she managed to stitch them right back together again, stronger than they’d been before.

  Her mother had drilled it into her a long time ago that we all made our own reality.

  Nothing more, nothing less.

  “You didn’t tell your mother about me, did you?” Destiny asked.

  Destiny’s mother had seen Carter for exactly what he was while Destiny had nothing but stars in her eyes for this man who was older, an officer in the navy, well-mannered, and able to care for her.

  Her mother had warned her that if she walked out the door with him, she wasn’t welcome to run home when it all fell apart. The thought that her mother might hear about the situation from someone else—God, no, she couldn’t do that to her. She fucked up. She didn’t listen. She needed to be the one to tell her mother the truth.

  When it was all done.

  If she lived through it. And if she didn’t make it, Sean had a plan for that too.

  Not a moment went by that Destiny hadn’t wished she had listened to her mother.

  Oh, how she longed for a hug from the woman who’d taught her everything with an air of practicality and years of wisdom born of hard work. She needed to feel those strong arms around her, feel the familiar way her mother would smooth a calloused hand down her hair and say, “There, there now. You get a minute to be upset, but then you let it go and roll up your sleeves and work on moving on.”

  Destiny used to resent those words. They felt like dismissal. As if her hurts didn’t matter. As if they should be easy to get over.

  Like her father never mattered to either of them.

  But no, that’s not what her mother meant at all. She meant that no matter what, you have to move forward. Wallowing just continued the hurt.

  She hadn’t wanted Destiny to hurt.

  That’s how Destiny knew that if she had been brave enough to go home, with her situation still unresolved, and confess to her mother that she’d been wrong, oh so wrong, her mother finding out that Destiny had been in pain, emotional, psychological, and physical, every day for the past six years might well just break her heart in a way that there would be no pulling in the frayed edges and stitching it back together.

  “No. I wouldn’t do that. I told you, you call the shots in this. You remember all the church potlucks they arranged together while we were growing up. All the family picnics and community fundraisers. She just figured I’d want to know.”

  What was wrong with her? Did she even have a month to get back home before something happened to her mother?

  She needed to apologize to her, to tell her she was right and Destiny was wrong.

  “Thanks for telling me,” she said quietly. Hot tears welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

  Tired, so fucking tired, she let them fall this time instead of scrubbing them away.

  “Destiny, it’s going to be okay. I promise. I’ll see if I can get more info on your mom, and I’ll keep putting together the evidence you gave me from the pa
st six years. If you can’t see this through the way you planned, we can still go with plan B.”

  “Plan B means saying goodbye to my mother for good. What if she needs me? It means hiding for the rest of my life because I’ll be lucky if he gets ten years in prison.”

  “I know. I didn’t say it was a great plan, but it’s the best we’ve got. I’ll keep working on my end. Hang tight, Destiny. Get some rest. And keep in touch.”

  She set the phone in the cradle and pressed her cheek to the arm of the couch, her tears soaking into the cool linen. She stared out the window at the lights in and around the harbor bay, their shine dulled as if she were looking through the tracks of rain soaking the glass.

  So many tears, everything before her blurred into an ever-changing swirl of colors with no real definition.

  Sorry, Mom. I know you taught me better, but right now, I just need to hurt.

  Untitled

  Jake’s every instinct told him to follow her. Watch out for her. The twelve-year-old kid inside of him screamed out to do something—anything, but don’t let her drive off into the night alone and unprotected.

  The kid inside him had been screaming for eighteen long years. Every time Jake encountered a timid woman, maybe an abuse victim, maybe not, the kid who was too small, too weak, and too scared to do anything to change the fate of his mother thrashed and seethed inside him as though saving someone in the now could rewrite history.

  He didn’t remember the drive home, or showering, or the hours of TV he used in an effort to get Destiny out of his head.

  He struggled to sleep, the hundreds of ways this whole situation could go wrong prodding at him until finally, at four in the morning, he called Dylan.

  He hadn’t planned on saying anything to him about Destiny, but he tried to put himself in Dylan’s shoes. If it came out later, yeah, the guy would have every right to be furious and not only kill any hopes of making Jake’s plans happen, but firing his ass as a bonus.

  “Hello,” Dylan said on a wheezy breath.

  “Uh, I know it’s early, but is this a bad time?” Jake stifled a groan at his own lame words. The guy had a teenager and a baby at home. Chances were Jake had just crushed any chance Dylan had at getting action.

 
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