The Other Sister (Sister Series, #1)

by Leanne Davis

  “I do it because that’s when I’m in control. When those men want me, or get turned on by me, I’m in control. I have the power.”

  “And when you can’t handle them?”

  “I don’t know,” she looked up at him. “You know the rumors.”

  “Not rumors?” he asked finally.

  “Not really, no.”

  He cleared his throat. He reluctantly knew way more about the general’s daughter, Lindsey’s sister, than he ever wished to know about anyone. Unfortunately, she was right, he did know. She didn’t have to spell it out, and he knew what was wrong with her now. Everything. Simply because she’d had everything done to her.

  “Find another way. Another way to feel better.”

  “What did your friend do?”

  “Friend? What friend?”

  “The one whose leg got blown off. The one you told me about.”

  He was surprised she remembered, or even listened to him. “He went to the hospital. He got help. Both physical and emotional.”

  “Soldiers are emotional now?”

  “Soldiers see the worst stuff on earth sometimes, so yeah, they get emotional.

  “Not you though. You don’t get emotional.”

  He looked into her face. “Why do you say that?”

  “You were like a faceless, nameless robot in there. You didn’t even blink at my condition, my circumstances, or my smell.”

  “Yeah, I did. But what did you expect me to do? Wrinkle my nose in disgust? Start crying for you? The best and only thing I could do for you was to get you out of there.”

  She seemed to absorb this as tears filled her eyes. “You can hide things that well?”

  “Yes.”

  “It was bad, wasn’t it?” she whispered, her gaze riveted to the tabletop. “I’m not being dramatic, am I?”

  She didn’t know? She doubted her own misery? He didn’t know what to do or say to such a mixed-up mess of a girl. “Yeah, it was that bad.”

  “Do you hate me?”

  “The general’s daughter? No. But I can be neutral with you.”

  “I hate being the general’s daughter.”

  “I’d never have guessed.”

  She smiled. “Was that you being funny? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  He shifted. “I’m not devoid of personality. Choosing not to socialize with you makes me smart, not emotionally impaired.”

  “Are you really? Neutral to me?”

  “Yes.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll take it. It’s better than hating me.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  She stiffened. Then she slouched. “Thank you for coming tonight.”

  “Don’t make it a habit. I’m not a cop. I don’t work with victims for a reason: I don’t know how. My job is to do what the government tells me to do. In this case, the government was your father. I did what he asked of me, because even unofficially, it would have ended my career if I didn’t.”

  “I get it. I was your mission.”

  “Yes. That doesn’t mean what happened to you didn’t happen. It just means that I’m not the one to help you deal with it. You need to tell someone.”

  “I can’t. I really can’t tell anyone. That’s an order. But I won’t bother you again.”

  An order? He paused hearing that. Then he shook his head. Not his problem. He got up. “Let me take you home.”

  She refused by shaking her head. “I have my car. I’ll be fine.”

  “Go home tonight. Now. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Me? Never. Don’t worry about me. You were right, it’s not your job.”

  Chapter Seven

  Jessie wanted to forget her kidnapping and tried everything she could think of. She went out. She stayed in. She stayed busy. She lay huddled in her bed. She tried to close her eyes and think of sunny fields, deserted beaches, a pristine snowy forest, but every time, she found herself right back in the dark, hellish cell that was slowly consuming her. She always left the lights on, no matter where she was, or what she was doing. She lived for the daylight. Each morning, a sliver of relief washed over her just because she made it through the night. But at the end of each day, of course, night returned. And again, she had to struggle with the demons in her head. They were batting a thousand. She began drinking at night to wash down sleeping pills. Sometimes too many. Sometimes with the hope that maybe, she wouldn’t wake up. Her only problem was, she couldn’t fully commit to it. She was ambivalent, and remained irresponsible with the pills and alcohol, but never chose to down the entire contents of both.

  Her father left her alone in her misery. He ceased nagging her, belittling her, or causing her the usual anguish he was fond of directing her way. Being ignored by the general was tantamount to being coddled and loved by normal parents.

  But nothing helped. The nights came faster and hit harder. There was nothing to prevent her mind from replaying the hellish hole Will pulled her out of. There was no running away from the memories that haunted her: the hooded captor, the men, the rapes.

  She knew she couldn’t keep revisiting it, or she would go crazy. She left her room one night, driving around aimlessly just to avoid picking up the bottle of pills she regularly took. She finally parked outside her sister’s apartment. Maybe, just maybe she could tell Lindsey, and maybe, her sister would quit judging her, and hating her. Maybe then, someone would help her.

  But instead, she found the apartment empty. No one answered. Jessie leaned against the door. She needed Lindsey, somebody, anybody, to be there for her. She called her sister’s cell, but it went to voicemail. She tried again, thinking her sister would realize she was calling for more than the usual reasons. This time, Lindsey answered.

  “What do you want?”

  “Where are you? I need to talk to you.”

  “What do you want?”

  Jessie paused. There was a voice in the background. “Are you on a date?”

  “I’m having dinner with someone. I’ll—”

  “Please, Lindsey, I really need to talk to you.”

  Lindsey sighed. “More of the usual? What was it last time you called me to disturb my date? Oh yes, your little sex tape going viral, or the time before that, when you were sitting in a jail cell? Well, not this time. Go bother someone else.”

  “This isn’t like that. This is different. I swear to you, it’s different.”

  “Like you’re ever different,” Lindsey mumbled. She covered the phone and spoke to her companion. The voice again. She knew that voice. It sounded familiar. It sounded like Will Hendricks.

  “Where are you?”

  “Olinders. Look, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Lindsey hung up.

  Jessie bit her lip. Of course! Didn’t Will say he knew Lindsey? Didn’t he say she was nice? Everything that Jessie wasn’t? Not that she could blame Will. He saw her with the creepy senator’s hand up her dress, and her performance at the bar, and well, Will also spent those eight hours in Mexico. There wasn’t anything Will didn’t know about her anymore.

  Jessie shut her eyes at the images and feelings of being transported to Mexico. About eight hours. That’s how long Will was there, witnessing the ugliest eight hours of her life.

  Of course, she lived through it. She shuddered. But God, she couldn’t live with it anymore. Something would have to make her feel better, wouldn’t it? Maybe… having sex with someone else, someone besides them, maybe then, she’d feel better, and be able to get it out of her mind.

  Turning her car, she headed towards a place that didn’t care she was the general’s daughter or Lindsey’s sister.

  ****

  Lindsey hung up her phone. She had a rare look of disgust on her face, marring her usually serene features. Now that Will was regularly working around the general’s office, he ran into Lindsey whenever she came to visit her father. One day, they began talking, and she asked him if he wanted to continue their conversation over dinner. He agreed, making sure to keep it casual and fri
endly. He insisted he was not on a date with the general’s daughter. They were just having a nice time. They had things in common and shared experiences, besides their love for the military. She had a fascinating perspective as the general’s beloved daughter. She and Jessie talked about Travis Bains as if they were discussing two separate men, night and day in their points of view. But, of course, Jessie had to call and ruin the easy flow of the evening. Just hearing her voice soured Will’s stomach. Jessie didn’t sound right. She sounded desperate, for Lindsey to talk to her, or anyone else. He knew exactly why she needed to talk to someone. She was reaching out to Lindsey about Mexico, which was a huge breakthrough for Jessie. But Lindsey didn’t know that. And Will didn’t know how to convey what he knew to Lindsey without giving it away.

  “Everything okay?”

  Lindsey rolled her eyes. “My sister, as usual. Nothing is ever okay with her.”

  “Maybe you should take her call. Hear her out.”

  “Hear what out? Her latest escapade? After the sex tape, I decided I was done. You know the tape. Please, don’t tell me you haven’t seen it. Everyone else has. She ruined the honor and dignity of my father, me, and the entire uniform more times than I can count.”

  He waited a beat. “Maybe it has to do with her kidnapping. It must be messing with her head.”

  “Nothing messes with Jessie’s head, other than whatever trouble she can create, or what attention she can grab. Jessie doesn’t care what I’m doing. So what if she needs me? Jessie cares only about herself. At least, you aren’t getting sucked into her games like most men.”

  “She’s young, maybe she just needs to mature.”

  “She slept with my boyfriend when she was sixteen. There is nothing Jessie hasn’t done to me. So forgive me if I don’t feel like listening to another of her escapades.”

  He kept quiet. Nothing she said came as much of a shock. He knew Jessie’s history, a lot of it anyway. Still, nothing invalidated what she had to be going through, and how much she needed someone. Anyone. Especially her sister.

  But after listening to Lindsey, Will didn’t blame her either. Jessie slept with Lindsey’s boyfriend? Jessie cried wolf so many times, when she really was in trouble, no one believed her. No one cared.

  “Let’s forget about her and order dinner.” Lindsey held up the menu to end the discussion.

  “Yeah. Sure. You’re right.” Will acceded, wishing his appetite hadn’t vanished.

  ****

  Will was in the midst of a discussion, and his eyes roamed around the restaurant when he suddenly stopped talking, and lost track of his thought. Approaching them was Jessie. Damn it. She looked like a whore. Her hair was teased and obnoxious, her makeup caked on, black mascara rings around her eyes, all smudged and running down her cheeks. Her outfit was pretty bad too: tank top, bra half visible, skirt hiked up to the tops of her thighs. Will scooted his chair back. What could she possibly be up to?

  “Well, if it isn’t my sister and Will having a cozy dinner.”

  Will stood as Lindsey turned. Her eyes widened as she took in her little sister’s get-up: four-inch heels, bare legs, hiked-up skirt, and messed up, twisted shirt and bra. She didn’t put it on correctly. And Jessie stunk. Like alcohol. Like smoke. Like sex.

  Lindsey jumped up. “Oh my God! Jessie?”

  “I thought you didn’t date the general’s daughters? Or did you just mean me? I wouldn’t waste your time with her, soldier, she won’t do anything you ask. She’s still a virgin. Can you believe that? A virgin. You want something? Everyone knows I’m the sister to go to. Ask Fred Stryker, he’ll tell you.”

  Lindsey’s face turned color, and she shut her eyes. Jessie was vicious. Fred Stryker must be the former boyfriend Jessie slept with.

  “How could you?” Lindsey said quietly, unlike Jessie’s loud voice. Her face was crestfallen. Her dignity, class, and beauty in stark contrast to Jessie’s crassness.

  “How can I? I don’t withhold my pussy like it’s a precious gift to bestow on only deserving gentleman. I open my legs and let them—”

  “Stop talking, Jessie.”

  She turned to Will. “Jessie is it? Finally, I’m Jessie? Not Ms. Bains? Interesting what prompts you to admit you know me.”

  “You’re disgusting, Jessie,” Lindsey said softly. “And you’re drunk.”

  “Possibly. You were always the most uncool one in any room.” Jessie moved, tripping on a chair, and fell to her knees. Her skirt hiked up even higher, and her spread legs revealed she wore nothing underneath. Lindsey sat back down, lowering her head into her hands. “Oh my God.”

  Jessie got to her feet in an awkward climb onto her knees, then up. Her purse was open before her. Inside, and very visible, were her panties hanging out. People around them stopped talking and began staring, uttering several audible gasps. Lindsey’s eyes met Will’s, and she shook her head, looking stricken.

  “She ever tell you—”

  “That’s it. Enough.” Will grabbed Jessie’s arm before marching her away from her sister. Over his shoulder, he said to Lindsey, “I’m taking her home. I’ll call you later.”

  Lindsey nodded, tears in her eyes as she turned away from her sister.

  Will pulled Jessie by her arm, nearly dragging her. She stumbled and teetered on her stupid heels since she was too uncoordinated to walk in them. Once outside the restaurant, he led her around the corner of the building to privacy, and gave her a shove.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “What’s the matter, soldier? What? You want a ride?”

  “I wouldn’t touch you if you put a gun to my head right now.”

  She stopped, and her eyes came up to his. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I mean it. How could you do that to your sister?”

  “She wouldn’t take my call.”

  “She wouldn’t take your call?”

  Jessie sensed his underlying tone. Her shoulders suddenly slouched as she hunched them and dropped her head. Did she even have a clue how pathetic that excuse was?

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have slept with her boyfriend, or called her after getting arrested, or every other thing you’ve done to her. Maybe then, she might have taken your calls.”

  “That’s right, because Lindsey’s always the victim.”

  Will stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. Jessie dropped her gaze to her feet. Her stupid outfit and garish makeup made her look pathetic and slutty, but all they did for Will was remind him of things only he knew. The why behind Jessie’s behavior. He took his jacket off and held it out to her. “Put this on.”

  She took it and slipped it on. Her shoulders slumped in it. “Why were you on a date with her?”

  Will sighed. “Let’s not talk about Lindsey. I’m taking you home.”

  He led her to his truck and unlocked it, then he opened the door and waited until she was settled in before slamming it shut. She huddled against the door, her head cradled in her hands. The truck was very dark since the parking lot was in the shadows of buildings. Only a few seconds later, she was crying until her shoulders shook. He remained quiet for a long while as she cried. Will just stared out the windshield and waited her out. He waited for her explanation of what set her off tonight.

  “I had sex tonight,” she whispered, leaning her head into her knees.

  He closed his eyes. Really, what should he say to this girl? “Why, Jessie?”

  “I thought it would help. I thought if I could just replace the bad memories with new ones, new sex, sex with whom I chose, I thought it would help.”

  “And it didn’t.” Really? No shit. He bit down on his tongue to avoid pointing out the obvious. Did she really think that would help her?

  She shook her head back and forth, her face still buried in her hands. “It was awful. It was cold, and mean, and gross. It was outside, against a brick wall. He finished, released me, zipped his pants, and walked off.”

  “Did you ask him to do that to you agai
nst a wall?”

  She shrugged her small shoulders. She looked so young, and clueless sitting in his truck. Something stirred in him, something sad and protective. She was such a mess. She did stupid things that he believed only drew attention to how bad off she was emotionally. No one else, however, made the correlation.

  “I led him there. I—yes, I told him to do it.”

  “Who was he?”

  “Some soldier on leave, fresh out of boot camp, judging by his haircut. He was looking for exactly what I gave him.”

  He understood. Didn’t he blow off steam in many a bar during his years in the military? Didn’t he have anonymous sex? One-night stands? Still, looking into the face of one of the girls who was used to do it made his gut twist. He didn’t know the anonymous face would end up looking like her: Jessie. She looked about twelve, a little girl playing dress-up who got caught in a situation she didn’t understand. Rings of mascara smudged her eyes, and trailed over her cheeks.

  “Why do you do these things?” he asked finally, but gently.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You can’t blame Lindsey for being angry with you. You do these things to her, and she doesn’t know why. I don’t know why either, other than, I suspect there’s more to your behavior than even I know.”

  “Why can you see that and my own sister can’t?”

  “Why don’t you tell her?”

  “I can’t. You don’t understand. You see all that’s good and kind and wonderful about her, and I’m not like her.”

  “What do you want from me? Obviously, tonight was about me being with your sister. You don’t want to talk about Mexico with me. You won’t get help. What do you want to do about it? Do you plan to keep repeating more versions of this last miserable performance?”

  She shook her head. He waited. Finally, she raised her eyes to his. “I just… I haven’t slept in days. I can’t eat. I can’t function. I just think about it all day long, and then I lie scared all night. I never feel safe. It’s never quiet in my head. And sometimes, it makes me feel like I need to crawl out of my skin, but I can’t. I don’t know what to do.”