The yard needs cutting, too.
“The struggle is real,” she said aloud with a giggle as she rang the bell.
The door opened, and Aria’s eyes instantly filled with hostility at the sight of Jessa. “What the hell do you want?” she asked.
Jessa gave her a slow and thorough once-over. “I really tried to do right by you boring basic bitches,” she began. “Swallowed your insults and disrespect to make amends for my wrongs against you, but fuck that.”
“So what you wanna do?” Aria asked, stepping down off the porch. “You act like you want that work. You can get it.”
Jessa sighed but did not back down, so there were just inches between them. “Your house may be in the worst condition on the block, but you’re not in the hood anymore, Aria. Elevate, boo. El-e-vate.”
“Words of advice from your ho ass. Girl, bye.”
Jessa was a lightweight with alcohol, and the effects of the tequila were already beginning to kick in. “Here’s some more advice. Your husband and that dumb second practice of his is the reason your money looking funny, honey. Well, that and that bargain basement book you wrote,” she said, laughing at her own wordplay.
“I know you fucking lyin’,” Aria screamed, drawing the eyes of her neighbors who were lounging on their porches or enjoying a leisurely stroll through the subdivision.
“Aria, what’s going on?” Heather Goines, Aria’s mother, came to the door to stand beside her daughter wiping her hands on a dish towel. She looked disappointed at the sight of Jessa.
Jessa eyed her hairdo with a slight frown. One side was shaven nearly bald and the other was as long as her chin with purple, fuchsia, and gold highlights. “I was just telling your daughter about her broke-ass husband and that second practice he need to strike a match to for insurance money.”
Aria jumped at her, and Heather pulled her back. “The baby, Aria,” she reminded her.
Jessa’s eyes went down as Aria pressed a protective hand to her belly. “Wow, another baby with that womb you tore up with all those abortions, STDS, and trains you had run on you. Kudos, Aria, seriously,” she said, with mock sincerity.
“I’ll be glad when you’re gone for good,” Aria spat, before turning away from her. “Come on, Mama.”
Heather looked at her with concern and pity in her eyes. “This ain’t the way, Jessa, and you know it. You been down this destructive road before. Hurt people try to hurt people. The shit ain’t cute. Not worth a damn.”
Jessa released a breath and rolled her eyes.
“Now I’m asking you for the same respect I hope you give your mother, and leave my child alone,” Heather said, her voice firm.
Mama, save me.
Aria had a mother to protect her.
Again, something in Jessa broke, and she dropped her head as tears rose. She shook it off, pressing her eyes with her fingers and wiping her tears viciously as she turned and jogged down the stairs and Heather closed the front door. She quickly composed herself as she buried her feelings once more. She was on a mission—retaliation was her fuel.
Her driver climbed from the car and rushed to hold the passenger door open.
She shook her head. “I’m not done yet,” she said, holding out her hand to him as she strode past the car and crossed the street headed for Renee’s home. Midway there, she turned and headed back to the SUV to retrieve the bottle of tequila. She chuckled at her pettiness.
Bzzzzzz . . .
She checked her phone.
Hammer.
She answered. “You should be working on your résumé because when I get done with you, that PI license will be just as worthless as you are,” she said. “Walmart always hiring.”
She hung up on him before he could say anything.
Bzzzzzz . . .
She sent him to voice mail.
As she climbed Renee’s porch, the front door opened. “I thought you changed your mind,” Renee said, as she leaned in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.
“And miss the opportunity to share a drink with you while I tell you what I have to tell you?” Jessa said, holding up the bottle of liquor.
Renee eyed her with open hostility.
Jessa feigned shock. “Oh, that’s right, you’re an alcoholic in recovery—that’s the right term, right, because I actually attended one of those addiction groups today and learned that word, so it’s pretty cool to be able to use it with an actual addict,” she said, taking a step forward toward the door.
Renee blocked her from entering the house. “My kids are home from college,” she said, closing the door.
Jessa shrugged as she sat down on one of the rocking chairs lining the porch. She looked around and opened the bottle of liquor to take a small sip as she rocked. “I understand that,” she said, crossing her legs. “The last thing you want is for your children to be around a bad influence and pick up habits.”
“That’s right,” Renee said.
“It’s just a shame it’s a little too late for that since your daughter, Kieran, is experimenting with pills—I guess she has your addictive gene. And did Aaron tell you he’s been to consultations to do a Caitlyn?” she asked, her voice cool and her eyes hard as she took dark pleasure in delivering her verbal blows.
Renee was shaken.
Jessa could see it and relished it, her smile slow and wicked.
She was surprised when Renee reached her with quick strides and backhanded her across the face, knocking her from the rocking chair. The smell of her tequila rose in the air as it poured from the open bottle onto the porch. She laughed as she unsteadily rose to her feet. “Still pretty,” she said in a high-pitched voice, imitating Kimbella from the reality TV show Love & Hip Hop.
Nothing could hurt her. She was on a wave of reckless and hurtful behavior that felt deliciously fun.
“Get the hell away from my house and don’t ever come near me or my family again, Jessa,” Renee threatened her, pointing toward the stairs as if speaking to a disobedient child or a naughty dog.
The front door opened. Both Aaron and Kieran stepped out onto the porch. Their faces showed their surprise at seeing Jessa.
“Is everything okay, Ma?” Kieran asked.
Jessa picked up the bottle of tequila that lay on its side next to the tipped-over rocking chair. “Your mom and I was just talking about she’s having an affair with your dad, who is now married to the same woman he left your mom for,” Jessa said as she descended the stairs.
Renee gasped in shock.
“You will make a pretty woman,” Jessa said, nodding as she eyed Aaron. “Good luck with the surgery.”
“Come inside, Ma,” Kieran said, trying to pull her mother in by her arm.
“I think the next husband you get shouldn’t be okay with living in a house another man paid for. That was clue number one he wasn’t shit, Mrs. CEO,” Jessa said mockingly as she backed her way across the street. “Oh, and in case you’re still clueless, your hubby moved right out of your house—or Jackson’s house—and in with his mistress.”
“Somebody needs to do the world a favor and put you out of your misery,” Renee said, her tone ominous.
Jessa held the bottle up in a toast as Renee shot her one last angry glare before finally following her children inside. “One more,” she said, eyeing Jaime’s home. “Just one more and this day can end.”
She waved for the driver to follow behind her with the car as she walked down the street and climbed the stairs onto the porch. She tapped on the door with the bottle of tequila before sitting on a small wicker table between two chaise lounges. She felt slightly dizzy and closed her eyes, massaging her temples with her fingertips.
You’re doing good, Jessa. Pay these bitches back for all the years you put up with their anger and let shit slide for the sake of your redemption. Fuck that and fuck them.
Fuck Hammer.
Fuck your crazy mama.
Fuck them all.
“I heard you were slinking around the neig
hborhood.” Jessa looked up at Jaime standing in the doorway, ever pretty and perfectly poised. She gave her a tight smile. “I won’t be slumming much longer,” she said.
“Care to explain these?” Jaime asked, holding up court papers.
Jessa looked around at the front of the house. “Yes, I’m suing you on behalf of my and Eric’s daughter for half the value of this house,” she explained, before taking a sip of tequila and wincing at the slight burn of it to her throat. “Your daddy’s a judge, if you need help deciphering the big words.”
“I told them you hadn’t changed,” Jaime said with contemptuous eyes and a twist of her lips. “Same old Jessa Bell, maybe even worse from the stunts you pulled today. Just wrecking lives for no damn reason. I thought it was impossible to top the fuckery of the past, but you have done it.”
Finish her.
“And when I saw Pleasure—I mean Graham—today, I told him to stop hiding from you and reach out,” Jessa countered, with a lick of her lips. “Didn’t he call? He might be busy, being back in business and all.”
Her lies caused Jaime’s complexion to pale a bit before she quickly recovered her equanimity. “You’re a liar.”
“No, I saw him today,” she assured her. “It was good to see him . . . and feel him . . . and fuck him.”
Sometimes a lie went even further than the truth.
“So, you always want my leftovers?” Jaime asked.
Jessa arched a brow and frowned. “Leftovers implied you ended it, and we both know that’s not true. Right?” she mocked, chuckling. “He’s ducking and diving you like Ali trying to avoid getting hit.”
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
Jessa turned to find the subdivision’s security guard standing beside his small white pickup truck with the yellow lights flashing. “Yes, can I help you?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am, we received a complaint that you were no longer authorized to be in the subdivision,” the guard said, his hand on the top of the flashlight hanging from his duty belt.
“Unlike the other ladies, I don’t have time to play with you,” Jaime said from behind her.
Jessa noticed a movement from the corner of her eye and turned to find Renee, her children, Aria, and her mother standing in the street looking on. “All of this for little ole me?” she asked, touching her fingertip to her chest.
“Ma’am, I’ll escort you and your vehicle out,” he said, taking steps to climb onto the sidewalk.
Jessa laughed. “And what are you supposed to do with that flashlight rent-a-cop?”
“Go away, you’re not wanted here,” Aria yelled.
Aaron and Kieran applauded.
“Deuces,” Kieran said, holding up two fingers.
Jessa turned and eyed Jaime. “And what will you all do when I force you to sell this house? And I look forward to it. If you think this little stunt is going to get rid of me, then you are dead wrong,” she warned her. “I will keep you tied up in court until every cent you owe my daughter is hers. I gave him the child you did not. Remember that. This house is hers. Not yours. I am far from done with you.”
“Eric should have dragged you to hell with him. Careful someone else doesn’t get the job done,” Jaime said in a low voice.
“There hasn’t been a motherfucker born bad enough to do it. So, dream on, bitch.” With that, Jessa turned and descended the stairs with her head held high. She flung the bottle of tequila down onto the street, and the crash echoed into the early night air.
As she reached the SUV, her driver climbed from it and came around to open the rear door for her. It took everything she had to maintain her cool façade. She was embarrassed as they all began to applaud. She gave him a soft smile of thanks as she slid her hands into his and accepted his help into the back of the vehicle. She was thankful when the door closed, shutting outside some of their joviality at her dismissal.
“Where to now?” the driver asked with politeness as he did a K–turn and followed the security truck down the road leading out of the subdivision.
“I’m done,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Take me back to my office building.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
She picked her shades up from the passenger seat to slide on, shielding her tears from his eyes as they rode away in silence.
* * *
Jessa awakened with a start. Her neck felt stiff and her temples pounded as she held her head up to look around at her surroundings. At first, she was surprised to find she was at her office on the sofa in the receptionist area.
She struggled to sit up, wincing at the discomfort of her joints from the awkward splaying of her body across the couch. “Damn,” she swore with a soft grunt.
By the time they made it back to Manhattan, the tequila had truly taken its toll on her and she was afraid to drive and reluctant to leave her car in the parking garage overnight. She rode up to her office, spent from the alcohol and a full day of malicious deeds, and barely made it to the sofa before she fell asleep.
“I thought you were never going to wake up.”
Jessa yelped in alarm, her heart pounding as she looked over at Georgia sitting on the floor across from her with her knees to her chest and her chin settled in the groove between them. “Georgia,” she said, in surprise, raking her fingers through her hair and longing for a breath mint.
“I was waiting for you outside your house, but I never saw your car and I was too scared to knock,” she admitted, her speech slow and sluggish. Her eyes were much the same.
Jessa knew she was high. A wave of deep sadness and regret washed over her.
“I figured you were here, so I Ubered. You didn’t even lock the office door, so I just came in and sat and waited for you to wake up,” Georgia said, a tear racing down her cheek. “And watched you. And . . . and . . .”
Jessa walked over to her and dropped onto her knees beside her, pulling her daughter into her arms. “I have never held you before,” she admitted, her throat tight with her emotions. “I never got a chance to be your mother, Georgia. It wasn’t my choice. Please believe me and please give me a chance. I know it’s tough and I know our story is crazy and sick, but we can get through it, me, you and your little sister, Delaney.”
Georgia nodded against Jessa’s neck, her tears staining her shirt. “All my life I wanted to know you, and I fucked it all up,” she moaned. “I fucked it all up, Mama.”
“There’s a lot of that going around,” Jessa said. “I promise there is nothing you can do to make me turn my back on you. Nothing.”
“Mama, help me,” Georgia whispered in her ear. “I don’t want to be on this shit no more.”
“I got you,” Jessa swore, rubbing her back.
The door to the office opened. They both turned their heads just as the barrel of a gun with a silencer was eased through the crack.
The sound of the shot was followed by a fiery explosion as its expulsion lit up the air.
Georgia leaned across Jessa, sheltering her and taking the bullet into her body with a force that caused her to jolt as she cried out in pain.
“Noooo,” Jessa screamed, bringing her arms around her daughter as the blood began to spread across her chest.
“Forgive me, Mama,” Georgia whispered as she looked up at Jessa, the light of life already fading from her eyes.
“Hold on, Georgia,” Jessa begged her fiercely, easing her body onto the floor. “Don’t you dare leave me. I just got you back.”
Jessa eyed the door, desperately wanting to chase down the gunman to discover which of her enemies had been pushed to the point of taking her life. Instead, she rushed over to the reception desk to call 9-1-1, choosing the love of her daughter over her desire to identify the gentleman and make them pay. As she finished the call and returned to Georgia’s side to pull her head into her lap, Jessa regretted the anger she’d purposefully stoked in someone capable of murder.
The list was long.
Hammer. Keegan. The Halls. The Halstons.
Della Montgomery. Horatio Montgomery’s attorney. Warrington Sachs. Renee, Aria, and Jaime, plus any one of the people who cared about them or were collateral damage in the bombs she dropped.
Even her mother.
Jessa’s head dropped to her chin.
One of them had attempted to take her life and put her daughter at risk instead.
She looked down at Georgia and her heart ached. With trembling fingers, she stroked her daughter’s chin, scared beyond measure that these were the last moments they would spend together.
“Father God, please,” she whispered, glad to be on her knees as she closed her eyes, released a shaky breath, and began to pray ceaselessly to the same God she shunned.
Epilogue
One week later
Shit. Did I almost die again?
Her body felt heavy. The pain was there, but it was a dull ache, and she knew drugs lessened its power. She couldn’t open her eyes, and her tongue felt dry and out of place in her mouth. It felt like being trapped inside her own body.
But I’m alive. Thank God. I am alive.
Emotions flooded her. She could almost swear she felt a lone tear fall, but she couldn’t be sure. She felt disconnected from her physical form.
The events of that night were a blur. Pain and blood loss had been the victor over her consciousness. She had been shot. And in the moments before she slipped into total blackness, her mother’s prayers to the Lord had comforted her. Hearing Jessa beg for her life and to forgive the sins she believed caused it had given Georgia strength to hold on. To fight for her life.
“Georgia. Georgia. We’re here. We’re right here.”
She felt a mixture of happiness and disappointment at the voice of her adoptive mother.
Did Jessa leave me to be mothered by someone else again?
Georgia felt her warm hand pressed against her cheek and was comforted by it, but the question she yearned to open her mouth and ask was: Where’s my real mother? Where’s Jessa?
She listened as they settled in by her bedside, and soon their conversation turned to normal daily living. What to have for dinner. The due date of bills. Days off from work.
Mistress for Hire Page 24