by Tia Siren
She didn’t look at me. She filled two bowls with soup and carried them to the table. She set one bowl on my side of the table and the other in front of Lizzie, just out of reach.
“Careful, it’s hot,” Amy Lynne said quietly. She spooned out some soup and blew a cooling breath over it. Lizzie opened her mouth like a little bird and waited for the soup to cool. Amy Lynne dished the soup into her mouth and Lizzie smacked her lips.
“Amy Lynne?” I closed the refrigerator door and sat at the table across from her. “Is everything all right?”
She glanced up at me as if she hadn’t realized I was there. “Huh? Yes. Sorry. No, we didn’t make it to the store today.”
I noticed that she wouldn’t look directly at me. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying. She cooled another bite of soup for Lizzie.
“But you were gone for a couple of hours,” I said. “I thought you were at the store. Where did you go?”
She cut her eyes at me. “Is this how it’s going to be? Are you going to question me every time I leave the house?”
I blinked at her. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
“Just stop questioning me,” she snapped. “I’m not a child. I don’t have to report to you!”
She dropped the spoon into the bowl and pushed it toward me. Soup slopped out onto the table.
“I’m sorry. I just wondered where you were this afternoon,” I said, doing my best to keep a level head. “Lizzie was with you, so I feel like I have a right to know where you were.”
Amy Lynne slowly brought her eyes up to meet mine. They were full of tears. She wiped the back of her hand under her nose.
“Why did you hire me?” she asked.
“Why did I hire you?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “Why did you hire me?”
“To take care of Lizzie.”
“You hired me to fuck you, didn’t you?” She glared at me and gritted her teeth. “I’m not a whore.”
That one took me by surprise.
Christ, why were women so fucking confusing?
You fuck them one time and it’s like they think they have a license to go bat shit crazy on you when you ask a simple question. What. The. Fuck.
“Of course, you’re not a whore,” I said. “Amy Lynne, what the fuck’s going on? Why are you acting this way? When you left this morning everything was great. What happened?”
I reached across the table for her hand.
She jerked away and crossed her arms over her chest.
“You hired me to fuck you,” she whispered. “I know that now.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked away and shook her head. “You want me to be Lizzie’s nanny during the day and your whore at night.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “Amy Lynne, where is this coming from?” I truly liked this girl, but I was starting to have serious second thoughts about hiring her. And about fucking her. Gail didn’t mention that she was an emotional basket case. Then again, most women are. Jesus, what the fuck have I gotten myself into?
Lizzie was staring at both of us with wide eyes full of tears. Her bottom lip began to quiver. I pulled her out of the chair and held her in my lap.
“I’m not a whore,” Amy Lynne said again. She looked away and shook her head. “And I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
She pushed up from the table and ran out of the room.
“Wow,” I said to myself. “What the fuck was that?”
Lizzie slapped the table with a spoon to bring me back to reality. I shook my head to clear it. I was literally stunned, as if a concussion grenade had gone off in the room.
I blew out a long breath and went back to feeding Lizzie, who thankfully seemed oblivious to it all.
I took a few deep breaths to force the anger that had been building inside my chest back down. I remembered arguing with Bethany like that. One minute she was calm as could be and the next minute, she was a fucking banshee. I remember her yelling at me at the top of her lungs while I sat there wondering what the fuck was wrong. It was always a competition to see who could yell the loudest and get in the sharpest digs. I resolved myself not to treat Amy Lynne the same way. I mean, when it came right down to it, I didn’t really know much about her, other than the few comments she’d made about her terrible marriage and what Gail had told me.
Gail… I tried to imagine what Gail would tell me to do.
She’d tell me to give Amy Lynne time to calm down, then see if I could figure out what had happened between breakfast and now to set her off.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Amy Lynne
I knew I’d acted like a fool, but I couldn’t help it. Every time I had glanced into Jackson’s eyes, I heard Randy’s voice in my head.
I even put words into his mouth to berate myself with.
You’re nothing but a fucking whore.
You know you are.
That’s all you’ve ever been.
You’re fucking a guy for money.
That makes you a whore.
It won’t last.
He’ll get tired of you and kick you out.
Girls like you are a dime a dozen.
Whore.
I locked myself in my room and waited until I heard Jackson start Lizzie’s bath in the bathroom down the hall. Then I picked up my suitcase and tiptoed down the hall.
As I passed the bathroom door, I heard Lizzie laughing and splashing in the tub. I heard Jackson’s deep voice singing to her. The Barney song. I had to smile. He hated that damn song.
I took a deep breath and went down the stairs.
I quietly let myself out the front door.
My old Honda was sitting in the driveway where I’d left it.
I opened the back door and flung my suitcase inside.
I slid in behind the wheel and paused to look at the beautiful house I had called home for a few days.
The best few days of my life.
I took a picture of it in my mind, because I knew I would never see it again.
I held my breath and turned the key until my piece-of-crap car started. Then I slowly drove around the circular drive and pulled onto the street.
I wiped my eyes and headed back to the apartment.
The rent was paid for one more week. I still had the key.
I’d go see Brad at the convenience store tomorrow and beg for my old job back.
Throw in your cards, Amy Lynne.
Fate has once again reshuffled the deck.
CHAPTER NINETEEN: Jackson
I put Lizzie to bed and watched her fall asleep. It was the greatest therapy there was. The weight of the world could be bearing down upon me, and all I had to do was watch those beautiful eyes close and listen to her breathing to know everything was going to be okay.
I left Lizzie’s door open a crack and then went quietly down the hall and tapped on Amy Lynne’s door. I still had no idea what her outburst at dinner was about or what had triggered it, but I had every intention of finding out.
The old me, the Jackson Ritter before Lizzie was born, would have kicked down the fucking door and demanded to know what the fuck was wrong with her. And if her answer wasn’t good enough, I would have tossed her out on her sweet ass.
God knows, me and Bethany had our knockdown, drag out fights over the years. We’d yell and scream, she’d slap me, I’d throw things, then we’d walk around pissed off at each other for a week. Neither of us ever apologized. We just sort of got over it. One day we weren’t speaking, the next day we were.
But the new me, Lizzie’s father, the responsible adult who took deep breaths and counted to ten when the urge to explode came, knew that things had to be handled much more calmly and rationally with Amy Lynne.
She was not my wife.
She was… fuck, I didn’t know what she was, I just knew that I couldn’t let whatever issues she was dealing with affect Lizzie.
I was a big boy.
I could handle whatever she threw at me, but she was here for Lizzie. I had to
keep telling myself that. It wasn’t about me…
Or maybe it was.
You shouldn’t have fucked her, the little voice in my head whispered. This is all your fault. She was fine until you shoved your cock into her. Get in there and make it right, you fucking asshole. Do it for Lizzie.
Lizzie was the one I had to put first. She loved Amy Lynne and it was clear that Amy Lynne loved her. They lit up around each other. I couldn’t imagine having to find another nanny who would take care of Lizzie the way Amy Lynne did.
From my perspective, I’d only known Amy Lynne for a few days, but the time we’d spent together had been pretty amazing. And I’m not just talking about the sex, which was right up there on top of my “Best Fuck I’ve Ever Had” list.
I’m talking about just sitting and talking around the table, or playing with Lizzie on the carpet. Amy Lynne was easy to talk to and easy to be around. And she sparked something deep inside of me that had been dormant for a long time. I was writing again. And I knew it was because of her. Maybe I was thinking selfishly again, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I would continue to write if Amy Lynne suddenly wasn’t around.
I knocked lightly on her door. “Amy Lynne? Can we talk?” I heard no sound coming from the other side of the door. “Amy Lynne? Are you in there?”
I turned the knob and pushed the door open. The room was cold and empty, as it had been for the last two years.
The bed was made. The closet was empty.
I stepped into the bathroom and turned on the light.
There wasn’t even a water stain on the sink.
She was gone, almost as if she’d never been there.
Lizzie and I were alone again.
CHAPTER TWENTY: Amy Lynne
I was stocking the beer cooler in the back of the store—again—when I heard the chime over the front door sound.
I shook off the feeling of déjà vu and came up the aisle without giving much thought as to who might be standing there.
I didn’t give much thought to anything these days.
I was pretty much just going through the motions, trying to get by one day at a time.
I had managed to keep my crappy apartment and was back to taking the online bookkeeping classes at night. It had been three days since I’d seen Jackson and Lizzie. I didn’t figure I’d ever see either of them again.
That thought broke my heart, but when you were someone like me, you couldn’t expect too much joy in life.
I came around the end of the aisle and felt my heart drop into my stomach.
Standing at the register with a smile on his face was Randy Beck.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, moving behind the counter so I’d have something between us. “You’re not supposed to be here. There’s a restraining order…”
“Fuck the restraining order and fuck you,” he growled. He looked around the empty store with a grin on his face. “Don’t worry, sweet cheeks, I won’t stay long. I just wanted to come by and welcome you back to the real world. And to say I told you so.”
I took a step back and narrowed my eyes at him. “Fine. You’ve said it. Now go.”
“I’ll go in a minute,” he said. He picked up an energy shot from the counter and twisted off the cap. He downed the shot, put the cap back on, and set the empty bottle back on the display.
“You have to pay for that,” I said, trying to sound much braver than I felt.
“I don’t have to pay for shit,” he said. “In fact, I can come in here anytime now and get any fucking thing I want, and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it.”
“I’ll tell Brad.”
He mocked me. “I’ll tell Brad. Fuck Brad! Or have you already done that? Is that how you got this shitty job? By fucking good old Brad?”
I gritted my teeth. “You’re such a prick.”
He braced his fists on the counter and glared at me. “You think because you’re behind this counter I won’t come around there and beat the shit out of you?”
A cold chill settled into my spine. The muscles in my jaw he had broken flexed, as if reminding me what he was capable of. No reminder was required.
“There’s a video camera,” I said weakly, pointing to the surveillance camera mounted to the wall above my head. “You touch me and they’ll know it was you.”
“It might be worth it,” he said with a shrug. “I wouldn’t mind spending a little time in jail if it meant I got to beat the shit out of you one more time.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
He frowned at the question. “Because I can, you dumb bitch.” He leaned across the counter and showed me his teeth. “Don’t you know that by now? I can do anything I want to you and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it. You’ll never be free of me. I will haunt you till your dying day. Hell, I might even be there when the light goes out of those pretty eyes for good. Who knows.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and told myself not to cry. He loved making me cry.
“Please leave me alone.”
His tongue went around his lips as he smiled.
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone,” he said, starting around the counter. His hands tugged at his belt buckle.
“What are you doing?” I asked, holding out my hands.
“I’ll leave you alone, just as soon as you show me what that rich guy taught you about sucking dick.”
I backed up as far as I could and cowered on the floor. I covered my head with my arms, bracing myself for the blows I knew were about to come.
I closed my eyes.
I thought I heard the door chime.
I heard another man’s voice.
I heard Randy say fuck you.
I heard an awful crash.
I opened my eyes and looked through my arms.
I didn’t see Randy anymore.
I grabbed onto the counter and lifted myself up.
On the other side of the counter, Randy was lying on the floor.
He wasn’t moving.
Blood was flowing out of his nose and mouth.
Standing over him, rubbing his right hand, was Jackson Ritter.
He looked at me and smiled.
I smiled back, glanced once more at the blood on Randy’s face, and fainted dead away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Jackson
A few days after Amy Lynne left, Lizzie and I went to visit Gail at the hospital. Lizzie was thrilled to see Nurse Gail and refused to leave until we all went to have ice cream in the cafeteria.
It was a tradition for the three of us. Every few months, we’d go visit Gail, the nurse who had helped to save my baby’s life. This time, however, I had an ulterior motive for our visit. Gail knew why I was there.
While Lizzie dug into her bowl of mint chocolate chip, I casually asked Gail, “So, have you talked to Amy Lynne?”
She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I have,” she said with a nod. “She’s back at her old apartment and back working at the convenience store.”
“Did she give you any clue as to why she ran away?” I gave her a helpless look. “I mean, one minute we were getting along fine, and the next, well, I’m not sure what happened.”
“Randy Beck happened.” Gail made a sour face, as if his name left a bad taste in her mouth.
“Who is Randy Beck?”
“Her ex-husband.”
“What’s he got to do with it?”
Gail took another deep breath and told me all about the confrontation Amy Lynne had with her ex-husband at the Food King the day she left.
“He has a way of making her feel like dirt,” Gail said. “He’s a serial abuser. That’s what they do. And unfortunately, the life Amy Lynne has led has not instilled in her a great deal of confidence and self-worth. Her dad left when she was young. Her mother bounced from one bad relationship to another. It’s a pattern I’m afraid, and Randy knows it. He knows all her triggers. He lit her fuse and sent her home to you to explode.”
“Son of a bitch,” I said quietly, so Lizzie the parrot didn’t hear. I beseeched Gail with my eyes. “Tell me what to do to get her to come back. Lizzie needs her.”
Gail paused for a moment, then asked, “Does Lizzie need her to come back? Or do you?”
I blinked at the question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Gail let her dark eyes go around my face, as if she were trying to read my thoughts. “Can I ask you a personal question, Jackson?”
“Sure,” I said with a shrug. “You can ask me anything, Gail, you know that.”
She narrowed her eyes at me and lowered her voice just above a whisper. “Why’d you have to sleep with her?”
Wow, that wasn’t a question I was expecting to have to address with anyone other than myself. I felt my cheeks flush with uncharacteristic embarrassment.
“She told you?”
“She did,” Gail said, head slowly bobbing. “I could tell the moment I saw her that something happened between the two of you, so I pressed her for the truth.” She shook her head and blew out a long breath. “Jesus, Jackson, why couldn’t you just keep it in your pants, for the sake of your daughter. And for Amy Lynne?”
Another good question I didn’t have a ready answer for.
I asked, “So, she left because we had sex?”
“No, she left because you had sex, then her ex-husband convinced her that the only reason you hired her was so you could screw her,” Gail said bluntly, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. I suddenly felt like a man about to be convicted of crimes I could not deny. Then Gail added, “I think she also has feelings for you and that’s scaring the shit out of her.”
“Feelings?” Shit. I hated that fucking word. It never led to anything good, at least in my experience. “What kind of feelings?”
She huffed at me. “Goddammit, Jackson, surely you’re not this thick-headed. I mean, you’re a grown ass man. You’ve been around women. You’ve been married. Surely you know what’s happening here.”
My mouth hung open for a moment. My hands gripped the edge of the table to keep from flailing in the air. Gail had never spoken to me like this. I guess I’d never given her a reason to.