by J. Dorothy
I can hardly breathe, I feel like someone just stabbed me in the heart and I can’t get any air in my lungs. Then I feel his lips press against my forehead, and it burns.
“Now, go. I’ll text you tomorrow.” He shoves the envelope into my hands, and I turn and hurry away, nearly tripping over my feet in my rush to the car.
I’m so thankful I left the keys in the ignition. I don’t think I could find the key hole the way my hands are shaking right now.
I manage to get the car in gear, and reverse out at top speed. I have no idea, where I’m going, but there’s no way I can face Tanning right now. He’ll take one look at my messed up, tear stained face, and know what's wrong.
Then I hear a small voice, and I wonder for a minute, if I’m so stressed, I’m going crazy.
“Jen, Jen are you there,” a muffled voice says again, and I spin the wheel and pull over to the side of the road.
Shit, Bailey.
I pull the cell from my shorts. “Bailey. Sorry, I forgot. Oh, I’m so sorry ... I forgot...” I can’t really say any more as my spluttered words, turn into incoherent sobs. My head is pounding, and my throat is sore.
Now I know exactly where I’m going. I need a friend. And Bailey, whether she likes it or not, is my only friend.
I manage to splutter, “I’m coming over.” I hit end to the call, before I spin the wheel back onto the road and head for my old home town, my teeth chattering, my mind racing.
It all seems so hopeless. Jason is back. And it looks like the tormenting he dished out as a kid, is nothing compared to what he’s got in store for me now, and I have no clue, how I can get away from him this time.
TWeNTY-FouR
_________________________
Bailey’s house is not a place I’ve been to before, and I feel a little unsure as I turn down her street and pull up outside the number I’ve got scrawled on a piece of paper.
It’s a simple white house with a small front porch, the garden consisting of lawn, with a couple of flower beds, that look like they’ve seen better days. I’m guessing her mom might have been the green thumb, and neither Bailey, nor her Dad have bothered maintaining it since she died a few years back.
My hands are still shaking and I wipe at my eyes, checking the rear view mirror to make sure the tear stains are gone. I’m not really sure why I’m here. I probably shouldn’t have involved her, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I bite my bottom lip, still debating whether I should go in, when the front door opens and Bailey bounds down the few steps and approaches my car. She is dressed in denim shorts and a black tank top, her hair tied in a messy bun, concern written all over her face.
Shit. I feel like crying again.
Reaching for the car door handle, I take a massive breath and open it. Bailey stands there and pulls me into a hug. Oh, crap. Now the tears come. I’ve never been hugged by a girlfriend before and I just want to crumble into her arms.
“It’s okay, Jen, we’ll sort this out,” Bailey whispers, and I give a nod into her shoulder.
I have no idea how. But it’s nice to hear those words of comfort. That's exactly what I need right now.
I blow out another big breath and pull away. My lips are still trembling, but I manage to splutter, “Thanks ... thanks for being there ... I really don’t know what to do.”
Bailey looks into my eyes, and holds my shoulders firmly. “That guy is some piece of work, Jen. We can work it out. Come on in, and I’ll make you some tea.”
I nod, and wipe at my eyes. “Okay, thanks.”
I settle back into Bailey's well worn couch and grab a pillow and clutch it to my chest. The house is quiet, so I’m guessing Bailey is here alone. Thanks goodness.
Bailey appears again, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of herbal tea and some of my cookies. I arch a brow when I see them, and Bailey laughs. “I surrender,” she says.
I give her a small smile. “Your cookies weren’t that bad.”
She laughs again. “Thanks, but they really were. Cam only eats them, because he’s too scared to say otherwise. So, I started buying yours. I know he likes them better.”
She really is a nice girl. I’m glad Cam and her sorted things out. I give a dismissive shrug. “I’ve had lots of practice. Mine were pretty crappy to start with.”
They weren’t, but I’m trying to be nice here, and that doesn’t exactly come easy to me.
Bailey smiles as she sits and passes my drink. I take it with another smile and gulp down a big mouthful. The warm raspberry liquid is so refreshing, and I can feel my racing heart beginning to calm down.
Bailey puts down her drink and clenches her hands together. “Jen, have you got any idea, what you’re going to do?”
“No.”
“Maybe, you should tell Tanning.”
I shake my head. “You heard what Jason threatened. And I know his threats aren't empty ones.”
Bailey creases her forehead. “How do you know him, anyway?”
“We um ... went to school together.”
“We did?”
“Yeah, he was about three years ahead of us, but he left after our first year of High School. His parents moved states.”
“Now he’s back.”
I twist my lips. “Yeah. I hadn’t seen him for years, until a few weeks ago.”
“And what about these photographs, what does Jason have on Travis?”
That’s a good point, I almost forgot about that.
I shrug. “I haven’t looked at them. I left them in the car. My only real thought was to get the hell out of there.”
Bailey bites her nails. “Maybe we should take a look.”
I nod.
Bailey stands. “Good, I’ll get them if you like.”
I nod again, not sure I can move right now. My whole body is exhausted. I want to stay here on Bailey’s comfortable couch and drink my tea.
While Bailey's gone, I lean back and close my eyes. My mind wanders remembering Jason's threats. Why he’s obsessed with me, I have no idea. I mean he was never nice to me when he lived here, and he hasn’t seen me for years. I’m pregnant with another guy’s child. I’m poor. And even I have to admit, I’m not exactly the eye candy I once was. Just goes to show how crazy he really is.
Then my thoughts turn to Tanning. How the hell am I supposed to break up with him? I don’t know that I can. I love him so much. I can’t imagine how I'll convince him. Tanning will see it as lies.
I hear the front door shut, and I open my eyes to see Bailey come into the room with the white envelope in her hands.
Biting my lip hard, I reach for it. “I guess we should take a look.”
Bailey nods, and sits close. I undo the seal and pull out a series of colored photographs. As I flick through each one, my eyes widen, my head spinning, while Bailey lets out a gasp of horror.
Holy frigging shit!
The first photo shows Travis in a large open room, filled with all kinds of chemical crap. He’s sitting at a table, with packets of white powder, stacked up next to him, he’s got his head down, and he’s snorting a line of, what I guess, is cocaine. I’ve only seen someone do that in the movies so I have no idea, but it looks bad. There are a few shadowy figures in the background, but I can’t make out the identity of anyone else. The next photo shows him in profile handing over a large wad of cash and getting a bag of white powder in exchange. Then there’s a photo of him, naked, lying in bed with two, no three, girls, and they all look completely wasted.
The last photo is the worst. He has a bruise over his eye, and cuts on his face. He’s crouching down, with a crazy stare clenching the blood stained shirt of a man lying on the floor. And the guy doesn’t look good. He looks like he’s been beaten up really badly. Shit. This is so much more dangerous than I ever thought. Jason must be involved in some heavy crap, and he’s dragged Travis into his world.
Holy, holy, smokes!
I immediately think of Tanning, and replace the unknown beaten man’s face with
his. There is no way I can let that happen. Jason is a goddamn crazy, drug dealing, crack-head, and he’s got me in his sights. Jason obviously gave me these photos deliberately. He knew I’d look at them. He knew I’d realize he’s no joke. They’re a message to me, just as much as an insurance policy against Travis. Jason knows I won’t take them to the police. He knows it’s Travis, not him being incriminated, and if I did, he’d come after me, or Tanning, or anyone close to me.
His threats are definitely not empty ones. This is a huge mess escalating out of control.
Bailey hasn’t spoken, and I don’t know if I have any words either. I mean, what the hell do you say? I wish I could get some bleach and burn my eyes. I’ll never get those images out of my head, and it scares the wits out of me.
I rub over my belly and think of Treasure Pot. I can’t possibly bring him into a world of crime and drugs. And that’s what my life will be like, if Jason gets his way. But if I don’t do as he says, I can’t bear to think of the consequences. Who he’ll hurt, or manipulate, just to get to me.
Tears stream down my face once more, and Bailey reaches out and puts her arm around my shoulder. “God, Jen, I don’t know what to say.”
I choke out a sob. I’m so numb. I’ve never felt this helpless before. I’ve always been able to hold my head high and find the loop hole that keeps me striving forward. But this is a dead end. I’ve finally been trapped in my own private version of hell, and this time, there are no dangling ropes to pull me out. My bridges have been well and truly burnt.
Bailey pats my shoulder and sighs deep. She must see the hopelessness of the situation. And I know she’s been there before, and can understand, which makes me grateful I have at least one person on my side, who knows the truth.
I’m just about to thank her again, when there’s a loud knock on the front door.
Bailey drops her arm from my shoulder. “Did you tell anyone you were coming here?”
I slowly shake my head, my pulse racing. “Were you expecting anyone?”
She looks over the back of the couch towards the door, with wide eyes. “No.”
Oh, God. This doesn't feel right.
Bailey glances at the photographs on the table. “Get rid of those, and I’ll see who it is.”
I nod, and with trembling hands quickly start to put the photos into the envelope.
Bailey takes a deep breath and starts to get up from the couch when I grab her wrist. “I should answer the door. I don’t want you to be involved in this.”
“No. Stay here.” Bailey gives me a firm look and her eyes roam over to rest on my stomach.
I swallow hard and nod. She’s not only protecting me, she’s protecting Treasure Pot.
She squeezes my hand and I reluctantly let her go. I rub up and down my arms, waiting and listening as I hear Bailey open the front door.
“What are you doing here?” I hear her ask abruptly, and my whole body is a bundle of crackling nerves wondering who the hell it is.
Then I hear some barely audible mumbles as the door closes shut and footsteps, heavy footsteps, come into the room, and I close my eyes, biting my lip so hard I taste blood.
“Jen,” I hear Bailey say softly, and I flutter my eyelids open, not really wanting to see.
My vision blurs for a moment, then comes into focus.
Oh, my freaking god!
What is HE doing here?
Oh holy crapping, shit.
My breath hitches, my heart races, and my world goes black.
“Jen ... Jen ... Jen...”
What the hell! Who is that?
I flutter my eyelids open to see Bailey peering at me with wide, concerned eyes.
Whoa, what is she doing here? Then again, where is here?
I hear someone clear their throat and my mind finally catches up, reminding me who that person is and where I am.
Sweet Jesus, I almost faint again at the thought. Especially after looking at those photographs.
My lips tremble and Bailey passes my mug of tea. “Here, take a sip, it’ll make you feel better. You kind of passed out for a minute.”
Why is she being so calm? He’s here. He’s dangerous, and she’s not acting freaked out at all. I don’t get it.
I reach up with trembling hands and take the mug, sitting up. I must have slumped into the couch when I blacked out.
He clears his throat again, and I bite my lip. I don’t want to register his presence. He’s an ass, and a criminal, and he’s my baby’s father.
Holy, frigging crap. How do you get past that?
Not sure if I can.
“Jen. Are you okay?” Travis the ass, asks.
I scoff, what the hell does he think? And while we’re on that thought, why the hell does he care? I hope he's not here to extort more money, or to get the photographs. He can’t know about those, we have to get rid of him, and quickly.
Under hooded lids I glance in his direction and clench my jaw. He’s dressed in his normal faded jeans, with a green work shirt and cowboy boots. His dirty blond hair is all messed up. His dark brown eyes, seem a lot clearer than the last time I saw him, but they still have that ice cold look, that sends a shiver down my spine.
Bailey takes a seat next to me, and grabs my hand. “Jen. Um ... there's something you don’t know. Something you need to know.”
I turn to her and narrow my eyes. What does she know that I don’t? This is Travis we’re talking about here, he’s pretty straight forward. Loser with a capital L. Not really complicated.
Bailey glances across to Travis. “Show her,” is all she says.
Goddamn it! Show me what?
I’m so over this conspiracy stuff. If it's photos of Jason, I’m seriously going to puke. I couldn’t stomach seeing anymore of their criminal acts. They are both as bad as each other. I blow out a breath. “I don’t want to see. Take your vile disgusting self elsewhere. You make my sick.”
My rant over, I pant out another big breath. Travis seems unaffected by my words. He’s still staring at me with a weird look on his face. Kind of a cross between amusement and concern.
Smug bastard. God I hate him. I hate him so much. My life is ruined because of him. I want to reach over and strangle him, but that probably isn’t a very good idea, not when I’m reminded of the guy he beat up.
So I continue to glare at him, digging my nails into the palm of my hands. Hoping he gets the blatant message and leaves.
Travis nods. “Yeah. I get that. I really do. That’s kind of what I was going for.”
What is he rambling about? He must be high again, even though he looks clean.
He edges forward on his seat, and I sink further into the couch. I don’t want him any closer to me or Treasure Pot.
He gives me a tight smile as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small black wallet. I arch a brow and twist my lips in disinterest, though I must admit I am a little curious.
Then he flips the wallet open and I choke, spluttering out a dry cough, my heart literally stopping.
Oh. My. Frigging. God.
There is no way. No way on this earth.
He must have a fake one. Though I’ve seen enough real ones to know the truth.
The golden glint from the badge taunts me, like some twisted, sick joke.
There is no way in the world.
That is just not possible.
Travis is a cop.
Holy shit!
I'm speechless. My mind can't even begin to process this.
Travis is a cop. A cop.
What the hell!
I blink and my mouth gapes open, and I'm staring at him, and his shiny badge like it's the Hope diamond.
Travis gives me a small shrug and puts his badge back in his jean pocket.
Bailey pats my hand. “You, okay, Jen?”
I still can't speak. I sit there like a mute. But honestly, I don't even know where to begin thinking about this.
Travis sighs big and long. “I'm really sorry Jen. I'm sorry I
couldn't tell you.”
I swallow hard.
”I've been undercover for over a year now. I had a role to play, and I couldn't jeopardise the case ...”
He pauses, as if he expects me to say something, but I remain frozen in shock, so he continues.
”I came to town because of Jason. He's involved in some really bad shit, and we caught wind of his plans to return here.”
”How bad?” Bailey asks softly, then cringes. “I mean we saw the photos ...”
”What photos?” Travis cuts her off and sits forward with a deep frown.
I'm still coming to grips with the fact this guy who I've perceived as a complete asshole, is actually not. Or maybe he is. Maybe he's just an asshole with a badge. I mean he did get me pregnant, he did leave me high and dry, and he did take my money.
Yeah, part to play, or not, that equates to an asshole.
I scowl at him some more.
”What photos?” he asks again, except it's more like a demand, from the death glare he's giving me.
I suck my bottom lip through my teeth and give Bailey a quick glance. She's watching me, and gives a small nod, as though she's saying it's okay to show him. Me, I'm not quite so trusting. This could all be another one of their sick little games. After all I've been through I wouldn't be surprised.
I finally find my voice, though it's a bit crackly. “How do we know you're telling the truth?”
Travis clenches his hands together. “Well, apart from the badge I have a tonne of paperwork I could bore you with. Or you could just get over your insecurities and tell me about these photos.”
”Insecurities,” I shriek out and clasp my hands to my head. “You have to be frigging kidding me. You honestly expect me to trust you? You? The one who left me high and dry, knocked up, stole my money and ... and ... said all those things to me. Jesus, you have a goddamn nerve.”
Travis gives me an intense stare, then reaches in his shirt pocket and pulls out an envelope. The one Tanning gave to me, and along with it, a wad of notes. My notes, my money, my envelope.