Jayce & Emma
(The Complete Series)
Copyright © 2013-2021 by Barbara Winkes
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales are purely coincidental.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the expressed written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For D.
1. Halfway Home
When Emma first met Jayce Turner, she knew it would be better to stay away. Over time, her instincts had proven to be right, if futile.
Four weeks had passed since she’d moved in, four weeks that she’d been aware of the clock ticking, every single day, every hour. In a way, the surroundings weren’t so different from prison, except for the fact that she was mostly free to go when- and wherever she wanted to. Emma used the skills she’d benefited from in the past months. Stay under the radar, try to make allies when you could, avoid making enemies at all costs, fit in. She was good at following the rules.
The outside world made her nervous in a way she had never expected when the gates of the prison first closed behind her, and the fear eating her up inside flared up to the point she’d almost fainted.
Emma had learned that a little fear was a good thing. It kept you on your toes. Ironically, freedom had become a Damocles sword rather than the promise that had kept her sane and alive. She needed to find a job. She had expected the sentence on her record to complicate the task. What depressed her most were the suspicion and the pity she got from potential employers. Could they trust her near the cash register or official documents?
At times, Emma wasn’t sure either, because she still had a hard time understanding the chain of events that had led to her conviction and subsequent prison stay. How could she have not seen the disaster about to happen? How could she spend that much time with a person and not sense they were ready and able to kill somebody, just like that, for a few bucks?
Time had blurred the sharp edges of the memory, though she still woke up crying from time to time, from a nightmare in which she had blood on her hands that wasn’t her own. When Emma had frantically tried to stop the bleeding, to no avail, she hadn’t been aware of the warm sticky fluid coating her hands, but her brain had stowed away the sensory details. The dreams had already become less frequent. She never missed group or individual counseling. The biggest priority at this point was finding a place to work. Emma had vowed to stay away from relationships in the future, because that would have served her well in the first place. All day, she hadn’t been able to eat, anxious about the interview. Upon her return to the house, she headed straight for the kitchen to make herself a tea, running into Jayce.
“You’re in a hurry?”
Tall, dark hair bound back in a ponytail, wearing jeans and a white tank top, she looked like every other woman who had gotten Emma into trouble. Then again, maybe it was time to grow up and take responsibility, because she’d been all too ready to be led into temptation, more than once.
“I’m Jayce Turner, by the way. I moved in this morning.”
The tone of voice that sounded too intimate for a simple introduction, the handshake that seemed to last a little too long, all of those were familiar too. Emma backed off a step, uneasy with the woman’s display of cocky self-confidence.
“Welcome,” she said, clearing her throat. “I’m sorry.”
Jayce gave her a wry grin. “No harm done. I guess I’ll see you around.” She walked away, a sway to her hips that Emma found impossible to ignore.
She touched her fingers to her cheek, the skin warm under her fingertips. With a sigh, she turned to the tea kettle. No more mistakes, Emma. She had also learned to identify the newbies and the distance to keep from them, based on the category she put them in. A threat. Will get into trouble at the first sign of confrontation. This one will fit in. This one is not going to survive without a friend. Emma gripped the counter with both hands, her desire for the warm beverage gone. There was something about Jayce that deeply unsettled her. She hoped she’d be gone before suspicion turned to certainty. Emma wanted to be gone by Christmas. It was still possible.
* * * *
Idle hopes they were. Emma had woken late, unable to decide whether her headache or hunger was more ravenous. In the kitchen, Jayce stood together with Meg, their conversation coming to a halt the moment Emma came in. If that was the company Jayce was seeking, Emma had to be even more careful about her. To Meg, the halfway house was high school, and she was the Queen B. She was the kind of bully who had never grown out the dynamic. It was almost a miracle Emma hadn’t gotten on her radar yet—another reason to find that job as soon as possible. Alison and Terri, the only ones Emma talked to on a regular basis, had warned her of Meg and her clique. They hadn’t given her any specifics, but drugs were a good guess. Emma didn’t need any more convincing to stay away.
“There’s coffee if you like,” Jayce said, prompting Meg to give her a sharp look.
“We weren’t done here.” Meg’s tone held a note of warning that did nothing to impress Jayce. She shrugged.
“Come back another time. I’ve got to go to group counseling.” That earned her another chastising look from Meg, before the woman stalked off.
With dread, Emma realized that Jayce would be in her group. Admittedly much of her lack of sleep had to do with the new addition to the house. Emma had enough to deal with, issues and people. She didn’t care for another change—except it was not up to her. She’d see a lot more women come and go if her job search continued in the same way.
“There’s no milk, sorry.”
Jayce’s voice jolted her out of thoughts, making Emma flinch. She clutched the hot mug Jayce handed her, only to set it down with a yelp.
“Wow, you’re jumpy.”
“It’s all that black coffee, you know.”
She could have sworn Jayce hid a smile behind her own cup. Emma wondered what she and Meg had to talk about. She wasn’t going to ask. Not asking any questions had carried her through a lot.
“I see,” Jayce said. “Group counseling, huh? Is it going to be as dull as I think? Half of the people telling their sob stories while the other half is asleep?”
“They want us to try. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”
“Try what?” Jayce laughed. “Come on. We’re running late.” Emma hurried after her, trying to keep up with her quick step. They made it into the room just in time before the counselor.
Emma prayed it wasn’t her turn today. Group counseling could be a minefield—you wanted to make sure to convey you were making progress, but not reveal too much to Meg’s minions. Granted, there was only one of them in the group, Lynne. She put on a bored expression, but listened to every word in the hope she could bring something usable for Meg, and therefore get herself up in the hierarchy.
At least, that was Terri and Alison’s theory. Emma didn’t want to know, but she was careful not to reveal too much. When she left this place, she wanted to forget about it best she could, the same as with her previous address.
Meanwhile, Jayce took a seat next to her, looking as uninterested as Lynne.
When the counselor asked her to introduce herself, she countered, “What do you want to know? We’re keeping scores? I had a friend who wanted to spice up her parties a bit. She got in bed with the wrong people and needed help to clean up the mess. One of us got caught. Here I am.”
“Anything else you want to share with us is fine.”
Jayce’s eyes narrowed at the trace of sarcasm. “You mean about the people who broke down her door? Yeah, that was nasty. It’s a good thing I had that gun.
They took a few years off because the guy wasn’t exactly a saint. Anything else you want to know?”
“Jayce, I hope you understand we are not the enemy here. This is a safe space.”
Lynne rolled her eyes while Emma tried to make herself invisible. Under no circumstances did she want to be involved in this conversation. There was a screening process for the women who came here, but as anywhere else, there were the ones who played by the rules, and the ones who simply played. They were certainly not the majority, but they could do damage, to her future plans, everything she had envisioned.
“Okay,” Jayce said. “Thanks. I’m done.”
Emma wished she could have ignored her, but that was hard to do with the woman sitting right next to her. The voices of the other women faded, the air in the room feeling unusually stuffy. If only someone would open a window…She stumbled through her own report as if on auto-pilot, all but jumping to her feet when the session was over, her vision graying out for a moment.
“Hold on there. Are you okay?”
Awareness returned, alerting her of Jayce’s concerned gaze, her hand on Emma’s arm. All her conflicted feelings aside, she was grateful for the support.
“Emma?” The counselor had joined them. “You almost fainted. You should see the nurse.”
In the corner, Emma could see Lynne whispering with another woman, the two of them laughing. Dr. Jeffries might be more polite, but Emma was afraid she might think the same.
“I was late, so I skipped breakfast,” she finally said. “I just need to eat something.”
“I’ll come with you,” Jayce offered. The warm tone of her voice and the gentle touch almost made Emma forget that Jayce had seemed pretty cozy with Meg earlier this morning. She didn’t want to get in the middle of whatever was going on there.
“No thanks. I’m fine.”
“Okay. Whatever.”
Dr. Jeffries patted her arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Emma?”
“Sure.”
In the kitchen, Emma grabbed a piece of toast, feeling too exhausted to bother with putting anything on it. She poured herself a glass of water, trying hard to escape the thought that something bad was about to happen. Oh, right, it almost happened. She’d nearly fainted in front of the group, giving way to innuendo. She hadn’t eaten, she hadn’t slept—no wonder she was becoming paranoid. Chances were, Jayce wanted to stay out of trouble and start a new life like the majority of them.
“Bread and water? I thought we were past that,” Alison joked, closing the door behind her.
“I don’t know about you, but that wasn’t on the menu where I was.”
“Have you met the new girl? Interesting one.”
“Why do you say that?” Emma bit her lip. Curiosity might not kill her, but it led to complications. It always did.
“You can’t tell? I thought she’d be your type.”
“Come on. I don’t have a type. I need a job.” A few bites of the toast had calmed her stomach, and she got milk and jam out of the fridge, starting to make herself a real sandwich.
“Yeah, about that, how did it go?” Alison asked.
Emma lifted her shoulders in an uncertain gesture before she sat down at the table.
“They expressed their sympathy and then wondered whether I might rob their cash register. Not that they’d say it out loud, but I could tell.”
“Sucks.”
“Yeah, it does,” Emma agreed.
“You’ll find something.”
Some days, Emma was less hopeful on the subject than on others. She glanced outside the window where the rain was coming down, still. It had been cold and rainy all week, leaving no doubt that winter was moving in. Lots of students had been pouring into town and were looking for jobs, and they didn’t have any dark spots on their records. She’d made choices. She’d have to live with the consequences, wouldn’t she?
“Maybe. I’ve got some skills.” Her laugh sounded bitter, and yet, she shouldn’t be complaining. At least, she wasn’t deemed a danger to society any longer. It would take a lot more than a change of environment to leave the invisible prison.
“Honey, what’s done is done. You can’t turn back time. As cheesy as that sounds, you can get somewhere from here. If the folks here didn’t believe it, they wouldn’t have accepted you in the first place.”
“I guess you’re right.” At this moment, Emma simply agreed because she wanted the conversation to end.
Still, when Marley called her into the office to tell her that the store owner was on the phone, Emma couldn’t help the jolt of excitement. What if…? Next, there’d be the search for an apartment, but the social worker could help with that. Besides, it was much easier if she already had a job to show for. She could start over, leave behind the shadows of terrible mistakes and—
“I’m sorry, but we had to go with the most qualified applicant. We wish you all the best for the future.”
The numbness encroaching on her made it hard to move, let alone answer the woman on the other end of the line. She wished she could rewind the moment, to that split second when she still had hope to be out of here in a few weeks. Not that she’d feel much safer, Emma wasn’t fooling herself believing that she’d feel safe anywhere, anytime soon. Farther away from Meg would be a big improvement, aside from the fact that sooner or later, there would be pressure to leave.
“Ms. Curtis? Are you still there?”
“Yes…I’m sorry. Thanks. No problem.” Actually, the woman had no idea how much of a problem she had created for Emma. No, that wasn’t right. Emma had created the problem in the first place, and now she had to deal with the results. Keep yourself together. Don’t start crying until you’re in your room. Within a heartbeat, her skin was feeling so tight she wanted to jump out of it. Emma didn’t want to see or talk to anyone at the moment, but she also knew she’d feel claustrophobic within the four walls of her room. Maybe she could have a cigarette from Terri or Alison. Emma didn’t even like smoking, but at a moment like this it would do wonders against the impulse to smash her hand against a brick wall. There was no alcohol allowed in the house since some of the women who came here were battling addiction.
No job. Starting over at zero. Against all odds, she hoped that someone had left some cookies in the kitchen, maybe brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Right, that was exactly what she needed, more caffeine. Of course, there was nothing sweet to be seen anywhere. The coffee pot was empty.
Emma gripped the counter with both hands, forcing herself to take slow, measured breaths, to relax some, but she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. She wanted to be left alone. At the same time, she dreaded being alone. That’s how ready she was to be a useful member of society, make her contribution.
“Try what?” Jayce had asked. She didn’t seem to be worried much, but Emma felt like she’d been given that one second chance. If she kept screwing it up, at some point, there would be no more options, no more hope.
There’d be coffee in the back room that served as pantry. She needed the comfort, if only for the warmth. Emma closed the door behind her and sank to the floor next to one of the shelves, no longer trying to hold back the tears.
* * * *
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there when she heard voices. There was no end to her bad luck today. One of them belonged to Meg, so Emma’s options were either running into her or waiting until whatever court she’d be holding in the kitchen was adjourned. Emma heard someone giggle—Lynne, maybe?—then Meg, chiding her in a sharp tone.
“Please do something to reassure me it wasn’t a mistake to bring you.”
“What, you’re afraid someone could catch you? Girl, the food in prison wasn’t that much worse.”
“No,” Meg shot back. “I’m afraid someone could kill me if they knew you couldn’t be trusted to keep your mouth shut. I gave my word.”
Emma froze, certain that she was about to witness something of the kind she’d done her best to stay away from so far. Wasn’t it e
nough for one day? That day got worse though.
“Who else are we waiting for?” Cherry, one of Meg’s favorites, asked.
“Yolanda, and the new chick, Jayce,” Meg said. She laughed. “Said she wanted to check out the logistics. I’m not so sure about her yet. I want to see if she can put up.”
“And your ‘cousins’?” Cherry sounded eager, stressing on the word in a way that told Emma clearly that it was code for something entirely different. “Do they have the product?”
“Damn it, watch your language! Are you stupid?” Meg exploded at her. “They are taking a big risk coming here, so the last thing I want is to make them think the police could show up at any moment. If that happens, it won’t be just my ass on the line.”
Emma wanted to cover her ears with her hands. Why didn’t she go to her room right away?
“What about Jayce? How can you know we can trust her?”
“Connections. Grapevine says she is okay. She and the friend did a lot of prescription stuff before the shooting, so I figured she’d want to be in. We’ll have to see if she can come up with the money.”
It was none of her business. Emma had no reason to be shocked or disappointed for any reason other than her failed job interview. She had no reason to care about Jayce whom she had exchanged a few words with, or even be surprised that Meg was involved in shady, potentially dangerous dealings. Why couldn’t she stop crying, damn it?
More voices, one male, two female. Emma recognized Jayce who introduced herself, but stayed silent after that. The other two had to be the aforementioned “cousins” who were clearly taking over. When Meg talked, it was with a hint of unease in her tone. Emma pressed closer against the wall, as if she could make herself invisible. She should be safe for the moment.
What was she going to do? What could she do?
The attendants of the suspicious meeting were talking in hushed tones now, and whenever she could make out words, Emma wasn’t too sure what they meant. What was going on right there on the other side of the door was probably everything Alison and Terri had warned her about. If she told anyone, would Meg come after her—would her “cousins”? What product had Cherry been talking about, and how had Jayce made her way into this group so effortlessly? There was an explanation, and Emma hated to go there. If Meg had heard about Jayce through her questionable circle of connections, then she had to have a reputation. Just because she had shown concern earlier this morning, or her story at counseling had sounded like a lot of bad luck, it didn’t mean she was innocent. Emma barely suppressed the hysterical laughter that was bubbling up inside of her. Innocent, none of them was. They were all halfway to…somewhere. Or nowhere. The direction was yet to be determined.
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