Jackson's Girl: Being His Duology
Page 31
I was going to ask if she was okay, but an announcement came on, calling for all students to meet on the upper level of the auditorium, where we would all walk down together before the ceremony begun.
Grant grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs without saying anything to his mom. I looked back at Vivian as he pulled me along, but she was no longer there. She disappeared, and I wasn’t surprised when we didn’t see her again after the ceremony ended. After all, that was what she was very good at.
37
Past: Emily
Grant wasn’t in the mood to celebrate, and neither was I, but we couldn’t tell Jackson and Aiden that, who were both very excited to be done with school.
I didn’t have the heart to tell Jackson I’d much rather spend the evening alone when Aiden suggested we go back to Jackson’s place.
So that was where we were, hanging around in the backyard, cooking a barbeque of all things, and enjoying the warm summer breeze.
I supposed it was better than going out and running into students who would be out celebrating as well.
We had all summer to do whatever we wanted to do, though I found out recently that Aiden would be working part-time Suzi’s Café with Grant and me.
Then we would be off to college. I told Jackson I wanted to go to the University of Maryland, for no other reason than the fact that I had never been to Maryland, and that it was the first acceptance letter I’d received.
To my delight, Grant had gotten accepted there as well. We always planned on going away to college together, and even as the plans were made before Jackson, it still remained, only now Jackson would be coming with us as well.
I wasn’t sure where Aiden was going, and he hadn’t said anything. I knew he got accepted to every single one of the colleges he applied to.
Just as Jackson brought out the steaks to the backyard, a shrill tone penetrated through the yard. I jumped in surprise and looked to Jackson questioningly. The annoying sound seemed to be coming from him.
He shot me a wink before passing the plate of raw meat to Aiden and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. “Hello?”
There was a pause, and then Jackson frowned. I started to walk toward him and quickened my pace when he lost all the color to his face. Whoever was on the other line obviously gave him bad news.
“I understand,” he said quietly just as I reached him. I slipped my hand in his, and he gave it a squeeze. “I’ll be there soon.”
He hung up, and we all stood around him, waiting for him to tell us about the phone call. When he didn’t say anything for a long moment, Aiden spoke up. “Everything okay, man?”
“That was my dad,” he said tonelessly. “My mom’s in the hospital.”
It was a little after midnight when the doctor finally came out. Jackson stood up first, bringing me with him. His dad was slower, his face showing no emotions as he waited for the news of his wife who had been in surgery.
“How is she?” Jackson asked.
“Are you her family?” The doctor with the kind eyes asked.
“I’m her son.” The doctor nodded, her expression unreadable. Jackson tightened his arms around me. I couldn’t tell if the news given would be good or bad. I heard Jackson’s dad getting up from his seat and the shuffle of his footfalls as he slowly walked over to us.
“Dr. Wright,” the doctor said, shaking hands with Jackson’s dad.
“Dr. Wells. How is my wife?”
Dr. Wells smiled. “We were able to restore normal blood flow through the clogged artery that had caused the attack. Mrs. Wright is resting now after her surgery. I had her moved to the recovery room, and if everything goes as plan tomorrow, she should be able to accept visitors.”
Jackson’s dad nodded. She smiled at us. I smiled back, a little unsure. “Go home and rest,” she said to Jackson. “It looks like your girlfriend might fall on her feet at any given minute.” I frowned. I didn’t think I was that tired. But I saw Jackson nod anyway, and then he turned us around.
Cooper stood in front of us. “Are you staying at your grandpa’s house?” he asked as soon as the others doctor walked away.
“Yes,” Jackson answered slowly.
Cooper shook his head. “Are you living with Emily now?”
Jackson tensed beside me, and when he answered, his tone had hardened. “Yes.”
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, boy?”
Jackson laughed. A cynical laughed that caught the attention of half the people sitting out in the waiting room.
“I know exactly what I am doing. I don’t need any more lessons from you, dad.” He spoked the last word as if it were a curse word. And without another word, he pulled me around Cooper.
“I am just trying to look out for you.”
“I don’t need it,” Jackson responded without looking back, though he did stop walking. I moved in closer to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, then I looked back at Jackson’s dad and glared at him.
He shrugged, offering no apology. “You are your mother’s daughter. Extremely beautiful and extremely toxic to anyone you ever come in contact with.”
I had to tighten my hold on Jackson and planted myself firmly on the ground to keep him from walking back to his dad. He was shaking in anger, and I knew he was seconds away from doing something I was sure he would regret later.
“Jackson, it’s okay. Let’s just go.”
“No, it’s not okay. You don’t get to talk to Emily that way.”
His dad shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I say. You’re going to do whatever you want.”
“You stop being able to tell me what to do a long time ago.”
Jackson hugged me to him, and we walked away without another backward glance.
He didn’t say anything on the ride home. His back was stiff, his jaw clenched, and I knew he was angry because, on occasion, he would fist the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turned white.
Finally, when we were away from the city, I grabbed ahold of his hand and placed it on my lap. He relaxed as soon as I touched him, before intertwining our fingers together.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I should be asking you that.”
“I’m okay. What he thinks of me can’t hurt me as long as your still with me.”
He smiled and brought my hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it. “Always, Emily.”
“Yes, I know. Are you going to see your mom tomorrow?”
He nodded. “Would you like to come? I know I told you I would drive you back to your dad’s house tomorrow so you can collect some of your mother’s things.”
I shook my head. “Your mom doesn’t like me. Seeing me there wouldn’t do her any good. I’m sure Grant or Aiden can drive me. Or you can drop me off there and maybe pick me up after?”
Jackson’s jaw clenched. “She doesn’t know you.”
I hesitated before saying, “But she knew my mom. I think that’s why your parents don’t like me much.”
“What does your mom have to do with this?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. But you heard your dad.”
“Don’t do that, Emily. Don’t start believing the bullshit my dad sprouts.”
I smiled. “I don’t. I’m just telling you what I think.”
I didn’t tell Jackson what I saw, though. When Cooper spoke about my mom, his eyes had turned sad. And it looked to me, like the eyes of a man who had his heart broken.
That afternoon, Jackson dropped me off at my dad’s house.
A drop of rain hit my nose as soon as I got out of Jackson’s car, the sky gray and dark.
I waved bye to him, watching him drive off from the porch when the wind picked up, causing the old porch swing to creak as it swung back and forth.
Aiden had agreed to pick me up as soon as he finished helping Jamie out with his morning shift. It wouldn’t be long before he joined me at my house, so I left the door unlocked for when he gets here and slowly made my way up the house.<
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It didn’t seem to have changed much since I was last here. My dad still kept the place pretty clean, and though I had expected to run into him, his car wasn’t in the driveway, and the house was completely deserted.
A beer bottle on the table told me he hadn’t been gone long, and I knew I had to hurry before he came back. I didn’t want to run into him as I carried some of my mom’s things out.
I bypassed my old room and opened the latched door on the ceiling leading up to the attic.
I climbed up the stairs, and as soon as I stuck my head in, dust flew around, making it hard to breathe.
I coughed a few time and covered my nose with the neckline of my shirt. The small circular window gave just enough light for me to find the light switch attached to the lightbulb hanging just above the ceiling.
As soon as I had enough light, I opened the large chest that was tucked in the corner. It contained all of my mom’s precious things, most of it pictures.
I picked one up, from when I was about five or so, sitting on her lap. She was wearing that same gray dress I found at Grant’s house.
I knew it was hers. I just didn’t want to think about how it had ended up with Jerimiah. Did she cheat on my dad? It was something only Jerimiah could answer, but I wasn’t going to ask him.
I picked out all the pictures I wanted to take with me and dug deeper into the chest for my mom’s journal, but it wasn’t there. It didn’t look like my dad had ever put back up here.
The front door squeaked opened as thunder rolled outside. I check my phone for the time. Aiden was earlier than I thought.
I heard the door closed softly, and heavy footstep over the hardwood floors. Quickly gathering all that I had so far, I walked down to meet Aiden. My mom’s journal was obviously not kept in the attic, I would have to come back and search for it later, or if I was really brave, ask my dad for it.
“Hey Aiden,” I called out as I walked down the stairs. “Thanks again for coming to pick me…” My voice trailed off when I realized it wasn’t Aiden in the living room. “Jerimiah. What are you doing here?”
“Meeting your dad for lunch,” he answered as his eyes took me in. Everything in me told me something was wrong. It caused the hair on the back of my neck to rise up, and I froze up in fear.
He had the same look in his eyes that Jackson had, only on him, they didn’t make me burn. There wasn’t love or respect in his eyes, but lust and lust alone, and I couldn’t believe how naïve I’d been. How oblivious.
My stomach rolled in disgust when I noticed his eyes staying longer in certain parts of my body. How had I miss that look in his eyes before? I fidgeted and tightened my hands around the pictures. His eyes zeroed in on them. “Your dad won’t be happy you went through Emma’s stuff.” I didn’t say anything. “I won’t tell,” he continued after a while, his tone suggesting he was doing me a favor.
“I don’t… I don’t care if you tell or not,” I answered.
He smiled. I didn’t like his smile very much. Jerimiah took a step forward, and I took one back. “I should probably go,” I whispered. I couldn’t make my voice go up any higher, but I knew he heard me.
He shook his head. “What’s the rush?”
I didn’t answer him, I was thinking of the front door, which he conveniently blocked. I could go through the back door, but his body was parallel to the entryway leading to the kitchen, which was where the back door was located. Even though he wasn’t blocking it, I couldn’t make it if he decides to give chase.
My only hope was the Aiden would soon arrive, but I knew his shift. I knew when it supposed to end, and it didn’t look like I had time.
My breath stuttered when I realized how much closer Jerimiah had gotten to me.
“What are you doing?” I asked because even as it seemed obvious, a part of me couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. That I was probably mistaken.
He shook his head and smiled. “It a shame, really, that you don’t look like Emma.” He traced a single finger down my cheek, and I froze. “Not that you’re not beautiful in your own way,” he said, making my stomach roll.
“Don’t touch me,” I said quietly.
He went on as if he didn’t hear me. “Your mother… she wasn’t just beautiful, she was captivating. In more than just her looks. She would smile, and I swear to you, it lit up the entire room. I saw her first, did your dad ever tell you that?”
I didn’t answer, and it didn’t matter because Jerimiah was somewhere inside his mind, lost to the memories of my dead mother. “And she picked your dad,” he spat out. He sounded so bitter about it. Was he really my dad’s friend, or did he hate the man for having something he deemed was his all along?
My breath caught in my throat, bringing him back to me.
His eyes flashed as he closed the distance between us. I hastily jerked back when he reached out. Too bad I had the odds stacked against me, because I suddenly found myself in his arms, his grip on me tight.
I dropped the picture and cried out on pain. He didn’t care that he was hurting me. If anything, he might be enjoying it, because when I looked up and met his eyes, I realized two things.
Jude’s eyes didn’t reflect that of a monster. No, they reflected the becoming of one. Jerimiah was different. Much, much different. He was the monster.
He was the monster.
And I wasn’t getting out of this unscratched. Even if I was able to leave this house and leave Jerimiah behind, the marks he left behind were already in too deep, and like scars, there wasn’t any way for me to get rid of them.
He forced himself on me, his lips on mine, crushing me, as he used his strength and body weight to keep me still, keep me compliant, all the while the memories flooded me, and there was just no way for me to stop them.
The kept coming and would not leave me alone.
He tugged at my shirt, and I was the frightened little girl, scared the monster would come in her room, knowing, even with my dad no more than twelve feet away, I was left unprotected.
I fought Jerimiah and the monster in my memory at bay, but both were a force too strong for me to win. Still, I fought. And I would not give him the satisfaction to hear me cry.
When I kept my arms pinned to my side, hindering him from removing my shirt, he slapped me. My skin tingled where he had hurt, then it grew hot.
I shook off his hands when he tried to remove my shirt again, but this was a halfhearted attempt, and when he finally got it off me, his eyes devoured every inch of skin he exposed.
I didn’t want to go down without a fight. I wasn’t a fighter like Jackson, I wasn’t brave or strong, but Jackson made me brave, and he would want me to fight.
My movements became more frantic, and by some stroke of luck, my hand connected with his jaw. He let go of me and cupped where I had hurt, and I didn’t wait. I straightened out what was left of my clothes, and before he had a chance to recover, I punched him in the face.
I had never punched anyone before. I didn’t let that fact deterred me, and despite my hand throbbing, I ran. I ran as fast as I could and prayed the door wasn’t locked.
Just a mere foot away, I felt hands grabbing me from behind. He pulled me back until I was plastered to the front of his body and I could feel his excitement. He tugged at my hair roughly.
I whimpered and was forced to tilt my head back. I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to look.
Look away, Emily. Sweetheart, don’t look.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he grunted, tugging my hair back further.
“And then Jackson will kill you,” I promised. Because it was true.
He laughed. “Are you going to tell him?” I wanted to nod. Yes, I would tell him. I wanted Jerimiah to pay, but his hold on my hair tightened, and he pulled it back a little further, causing pain at the back of my neck. I whimpered.
He moved in close to me, running the tip of his nose up and down the side of my face, before his lips found their way to the back of my ear.
“Please, don’t. Oh, God. Please just let me go. I won’t tell,” I said. I begged.
I felt him smile. “Of course you won’t. Now be a good little girl and hold still. I promise I’ll be gentle.”
I continued to cry, and I would have struggled out of his hold had he not remind me that he was holding onto my hair, that he was much, much stronger than me, and I…
I couldn’t fight him off.
Would it be so terrible if I just give up then? Would anyone blame me for not fighting harder?
His hand moved down to the button of my jeans and the material loosened and the zipper was pulled down.
Oh, God. I was going to be sick.
He made a move to pull the jeans down, and I lost it then. The breakfast I had earlier all over the dirty, old hardwood floor. Jerimiah moved back as I bent over and rid myself of all the contents in my stomach.
If I thought that would stop him, I was wrong. He swiped my shirt off the floor and used it to roughly wiped my mouth until the skin there became tender and raw. And then he was back to holding me, restraining both of my hands behind my back.
“Don’t get sick again,” he growled near my ear as if I had done it on purpose. And then he was back to touching me, and… and I hurt.
My cries were cut off when the door was pushed opened, bouncing back against the wall with a thud. We both turned to it, and I wanted to weep in relief.
Aiden stood there, looking very much like an avenging angel. He took one look at me, and with a roar, charged at Jerimiah.
I never saw a man react so fast.
Jerimiah threw me toward Aiden, and I would have fallen had Aiden not been quick about it. He caught me and wiped away the tears I didn’t even know was there.
He pulled off his sweater and put it on me. Very carefully, he helped my arms through the holes. Then he buttoned my jeans before pulling me in until I was safely cocooned in his body.
“Aiden,” I cried out.
“Emily. It’s okay, it’s okay. I got you. I got you.” He held me close and rocked me back and forth.
“He… he… tried… and I fought… but I couldn’t… he… strong… too strong.”