Jessica (Tucked In 2)

by Kuhn, N

  Tucked In: Jessica

  The Hollywood Files

  By N Kuhn

  I’d like to dedicate this book to those who believe in me. My mother, for always helping and looking out for me. To Shane Keough for taking a simple charity phone call and making it the biggest break of my life. Also for taking a chance of his own to help me out! I’ll never be able to repay your kindness Shane, but you have my eternal gratitude. To Tom Townsend for believing in me. The endless lessons, pep talks and pressure, to help me be the best I can be. To Greg for signing me with WheelMan Press. This book would be nothing without you taking a chance on me! Finally, to my fans. If not for you, my books would just be words. You make them come to life, and I thank you for that!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 1

  Walking down the long cobble stone path, looking into the nothing beyond, my eyes cloud with tears. The silence is deafening on my ears. Falling to my knees, I sob uncontrollably. This isn’t like me, I don’t cry. Haven’t since I was a boy. My whole body shakes.

  “JESSICA” I yell at no one. Slamming my fist into the stones below me, I sit up straight. Looking around in the darkness, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

  “Yo, Tuck, man. You’re ok,” the voice floats up from all around me, “You must have been having one killer of a dream. You woke my ass up with your yelling. Thanks for the gut shot by the way.” I can hear his labored breathing. This is the first nightmare I’ve had in a long time. Rubbing my face with my hands, I try to clear the fuzziness from my mind.

  “Razor, what the hell are you doing in my room? I could have killed you. You’re lucky to have just got punched.” Reaching over, I flip on the bedside light.

  Since the whole mess with Lianna Landry, Razor has been staying with me. The kid nearly lost his life because of me. It was the least I could do. When the guys found him strapped to the tower in J-Town, he was almost dead. Akio and his men had beat him so bad, between the concussions, dislocated shoulder and cuts, it’s amazing that he made it. A week in the hospital, I decided it was just safer to bring him home with me. I have the guest room, and he needs a new life anyways. Business has been picking up lately, so I hired him on as a personal assistant. He now handles my schedule, my hire calls, and sets up my meetings. He’s very organized, which I’m sure is a trait he picked up dealing drugs and whatever else he did. He’s also discreet, a very important thing in my business. But, it’s better for him to be off the streets. The kid’s only twenty one. Left out there, I’m sure he would have died.

  Though he still has the mohawk, at least he dresses better now. When I decided to hire him on, I had to make sure he fit in a little better. The hair doesn’t really matter, this is Hollywood after all, but he had to dress the part. His undying appreciation really made me step back and think. This kid must not have ever had anyone take care of him before. He was constantly thanking me, then trying to put his hard guy face back on, but I could still see the hints of glee and happiness. Like a kid at Christmas, we found him a few suits, and some nicer jeans and shirts than what he had. I even got him new shoes.

  “I’m ok Raz, go ahead and get back to sleep.” A look of concern flashes across his face before he turns to leave.

  “You know where I am if you need me man. It wouldn’t kill you to open up and talk to someone you know.” Like I haven’t heard that one before. Quietly shutting my door behind him, he heads out. Alone again, I lay back on my pillows, sweat cooling on my bare chest. Jessica again. After what happened, I had nightmares for weeks, months even. But the last few years, not so much. Thinking they were over, I’ve gotten used to actually sleeping through a night.

  Jessica had been one of my very first few clients. Her father, Peter Jacobs, was a VP of a technology company. They were on a fast track to outbid another company on a military contract. There had been threats made, and I was hired to be her bodyguard. At the time I was twenty eight, she was twenty three. Beautiful, young; she was amazing. Smart as any woman I had ever met. Her long jet black hair had flowed down her back, to this day I still remember the vanilla honey smell it always had to it. Her brown eyes had flecks of hazel in them, and sparkled every time she looked at me. Her pale skin was as soft as a baby’s. We had gotten very close in the few weeks I had worked for her and her father. A relationship bloomed, and I lost focus. Instead of worrying about protecting her and being diligent, I spent my time fawning over her and getting her between the sheets.

  God, she had purred like a kitten too. Every touch, lick, nibble, and kiss I gave her, made her moan with pleasure. No other woman has compared to her. The way her sweet soft body moved beneath mine, the way it felt like we just fit together. Honestly I think I fell in love the first time I met her. She wasn’t just a lay or a conquest. Unlike most rich girls I meet, she was down to earth, smart, caring and spent her time doing good deeds. She volunteered at shelters, and was constantly working with the inner city kids. I could feel something was off between her and her father, but just figured it was just the tension of the situation. One night she had confided in me that he was her step-father and that the money he was using for floating his sinking business was hers, supposed to be hers at twenty five. There was something more to the story, I could tell by her tone she was holding something back. But I didn’t want to press her. My main and only concern was protecting her, keeping her close to me. Thinking that just being by her side would keep her safe, I was wrong. Dead wrong. It all went wrong a week before the contracts were to be signed with Peter’s company.

  We had gone to the club house she volunteered at in Oakland. She was big on tutoring kids there. Normally, we’d be weary of gang violence. But, this was not something we could have anticipated. Walking in, hand in hand, two men in suits and masks rushed up behind us, bashing me on the head with the butt of a gun. As I went down, I remembered hearing her scream my name, before the world went dark around me. Waking up a short time later, a bunch of the kids and some of the aides were gathered around me, sirens blasting in the distance. Yelling out for her, they told me she was gone. Having heard the shouting they had all rushed outside to see what was going on, and watched on in horror as Jessica was thrown in the back of a van and taken away. I spent a week, sleeplessly searching for her. I covered all ends of LA, only to come up empty handed. No one knew about the kidnapping, there were no ransom demands.

  Peter, Jessica’s father, had pulled out, and let the other company take the contract. I know how much of a loss that meant for his business, and for him. I had always thought he was a good man, a good father. His daughter meant more to him than any business or any amount of money. He would have done anything within his power and more to get her back. But the obsessive way he acted, sleeping in her room, holding her things, had started to bother me. I knew there was something wrong with him. The day the contracts were signed, we had been at his house, going over some leads that had come in, trying to figure out our next step. The doorbell had rang. Racing to the front door, tripping over each other, both of us were anxious to get there. Any news of Jessica would be better than nothing.

  Opening the massive oak door, all that was there, was a small cardboard box. Inside of it, a bloody finger and a note saying “This is all you will ever see of your daughter again.” I knew it was hers. The engagement ring I had secretly given her the night befor
e was there, on the digit. Turning from the door, I had thrown up all over the stone pathway leading from the garage to the door. As I heaved until nothing was left, I took a look back, and saw a destroyed man. Peter was sobbing uncontrollably, his face beet red.

  “You, this is all your fault. You couldn’t do your job right. She was mine. You took her from me, you took my life. You will never work a day in this city again.” Pointing his finger at me angrily, I had lost my first true love, but he, he had lost a daughter and obviously his mind as well.

  Running from him, I had jumped into my Dodge Ram I was driving at the time, floored it and never looked back. All my thoughts were of my career being over before it started, and of Jessica, the fact that I would never see her again. One of those issues was resolved. Peter shot himself in the head that night. It had been front page news for days. Tech Tycoon Kills Himself Over Step Daughter’s Death. But the reality was, someone had killed him, and the cops couldn’t figure out who. That I learned from a few contacts I had on the force. They told me that it completely looked like a suicide. The only evidence that it wasn’t, was the trajectory. They just ruled it suicide and moved on to more important cases.

  Chapter 2

  I still couldn’t escape it. I’ve carried that burden with me ever since. My career has flourished, because he was never able to tell anyone that it was my fault. He would have been right, I was guilty. I’ve tried to make up for it and prove myself with every other job since then. That’s why details, research and no mixing business with pleasure is so important to me. I will not allow the same mistakes to happen again. Losing a client is one thing, but losing the woman I loved made it that much worse.

  Strangely, sometimes, when I’m at a favorite haunt of mine, or just out in the streets downtown, I swear I can see her. A glimpse of that long black hair, a peek of some curvy legs, a walk that sways just like she did. I know it’s just my mind playing tricks on me, but it’s hard. Every time I think I see her, the nightmares come back. Used to be I thought it was my guilt catching up with me, that I would never be able to fix things. Years later, I’m still trying. Maybe that’s why I took Razor in. There was an urge, a feeling that I had to protect him in a way I couldn’t with Jessica.

  Trying to fall back asleep is fruitless. Dragging myself out of bed, I figure I’ll go for a run before the neighborhood starts their commute into the city. Pulling up my basketball shorts and slipping into my running shoes, there’s a knock on my door.

  “Raz, I thought I said you could go back to bed? I’m fine, really.” I say to him without opening the door. Not waiting for me to say that he could come in, the door opens. Standing in front of me, his basketball shorts sliding down his hips, and his new sneakers on. I look up at him with a questioning stare.

  “I knew you weren’t going to go back to sleep man. Come on, let’s go for a run.” The kid is a lot smarter than I had originally thought. He’s getting along here pretty well. Maybe I’ll just keep him on more permanently. I’m really starting to like having him around. Nodding my head, I finish lacing up my sneakers. Opening the drawer of my night stand, I toss him an IPod and grab one for myself. It’s always easier to transport unwilling Tucks if they can’t hear me and I can’t hear them. One day I should just take out stock in Apple. Between the IPods, my IPhone and IPad I let Razor talk me into buying, I could start my own little store.

  Following Raz down the hallway, we leave the house, heading down my driveway to begin our run down the canyon road.

  “You’re not going to lock your door man?” He asks me, looking around nervously.

  “Don’t need to,” is my only reply. Putting the head phones into my ears and turning up the music, I run. Most times my mind is blank when out running, but today, I feel like I’m running away from something. The sun begins to rise, lighting the road in front of us, all I can think of is Jessica. As Korn pumps anger into my ears, flashes of her move into the front of my mind. Glimpses of her beautiful eyes, her plush lips, sounds of her laughter, drowning out my music. I can still see the way her hips wiggled with every step, and the bounce to her ass. It’s been so long since my thoughts drifted to her. Wondering to myself, I think ‘Why now, why is she filling my mind now?’

  Stumbling over my own feet, I stop, catching my breath. Looking at my surroundings, I’ve already ran about three miles. Looking behind me, I see Raz struggling to keep up. Popping out my ear buds, I laugh.

  “Come on kid, you have to do better than this. What are you going to do if we have to chase someone down? You’ll be no help to me if you can’t keep up.” Panting, he stops next to me.

  “Dude, I got to quit smoking if this is the case. I feel like my heart wants to escape from my chest.” Wheezing, he sits down on the side of the curb. I pace in front of him, cooling down, but not wanting to be motionless.

  “You’re young, and should be able to outrun an old man like me,” I laugh at him, “Though stopping to pull your pants back up every few steps does slow you down a little.”

  “Tuck, you’re talking like a grandfather, man, you’re more the big brother or cool young uncle. You aren’t geriatric yet.” He tries to laugh but just ends up coughing.

  As I walk laps around Raz, my phone, strapped to my bicep, rings. Pulling it out, I see Buzz on the caller ID. After our last job together, he took a cushy position for a Hollywood power couple. He’s spent the last few weeks in their New York City apartment. Holly Katherine and Christian Thompson were big leagues in town. She was on a hit show in her teens, he’s the top action star around. Though a twenty year age difference is between them, they fell in love and have had quite the successful marriage. Now with a four year old son, they spend half their time in New York City and the other half here in Hollywood. They have been termed the Golden Couple. They stay out of tabloids and have a happy little family thing going. It really is an easy job for Buzz. Protect their son, Sebastian, from the paparazzi and whoever else may be lurking. I’ve been promising Raz to take a night off soon to see his new flick Mission III.

  “Buzz, what’s up? How’s the city, bud?” I ask him.

  “Tuck, hey man, sorry to call when it’s so early there. I have a situation I need your help with, like immediately.” His tone is more serious than I’ve ever heard. He’s normally a very jovial person. Now, he’s all business. This won’t be good.

  “Sure man, what’s up?”

  “I screwed up big time man. Christian picked up and disappeared, taking Sebastian with him. I didn’t realize how bad things were in their marriage. Holly had asked me to keep an extra close eye on them, but it’s his dad man, I didn’t think anything of it. I figured she was just an over protective mom. But, I run out for coffee, come back, him and the kid are gone, there’s clothes missing. I think he kidnapped his own son.” Pausing, he tries to catch his breath.

  “Buzz, what did Holly say?” I ask him, finally stopping dead in my tracks. I hate when cases involve little kids. It makes it all the more urgent to Tuck them, and fast. Most times, it involves permanent Tucks.

  “She knows man, she doesn’t want to involve the police because then the paparazzi will catch wind of it. Right now, we need to keep it on the down low. She thinks he’s heading your way. He got caught up in some Neopaganism religious shit. I can give you the whole brief when I get there. I’m on the next flight out of here. I’ll see you tonight, ok?”

  “Yea man, anything you need,” I tell him, hanging up. Looking at Raz, who seems to have finally caught his breath, I nod.

  “Ready to get home?” Looking up at me with a pained expression, I can’t help but laugh at him.

  “Yea man, right behind you.”

  Taking off running, I leave him behind, to walk. I’m in a hurry to get home and search for some information about this Neopaganism. It’s another one of those fancy new ‘religions’ that keep springing up. For some reason California is full of them. I don’t know why all the whack jobs continue to start up here, but this is one occult that will be tamp
ed down before it gets too big. I just have to get my information first. Apparently it has something to do with freaks who think they are witches. Wicca, witchcraft, all that nonsense. That’s what Hollywood does to people. They see some freaky movie about witches like ‘The Craft’ and start thinking they can be witches too. It’s ridiculous, books will start flying off the shelves, and candles go out of stock. Everyone wants to be part of the new trend. I’ve heard a little about this, apparently they’ve been investigated for Human Sacrifices or some crazy shit. We’ll have to see what I’m going up against.

  Religions are always a funny thing. Van Morrison said it best when he was quoted. ‘These days politics, religion, media seem to get all mixed up. Television became the new religion a long time back and the media has taken over.’ Since The Coven and Wicca have become main stream, the media, celebrities, they all make it the new thing. What happened to good ole Christians, Baptists and such? Now there’s witches, scientists, and they all have one theme in common. They are more a cult than anything else.

  Chapter 3

  “Christian, just bring Sebastian here, and we can help you,” I say to him, using my motherly tone to sooth his nerves, hoping that the desperation in mine doesn’t carry through.

  “I don’t know. I have to be back to filming next week. This movie is supposed to be bigger than the Mission movies. I have my career to think of. I mean, what do you really need Sebastian for? Can’t he just practice with me when I retreat for weekends? You don’t get it Mistress, Holly will not stop at anything to get Sebastian back. She’s going to send any and every one after me she can, including the press. I have to think of my son’s safety,” he whines.