by Kylie Walker
“Sure,” Jesse said with a smile. “My girlfriend and I were celebrating her birthday. We may have gotten carried away. Sorry about that.”
“What’s your name sir?” The officer asked Jesse. Jesse smiled even brighter and said, “Jesse Donovan. I’m Vince Donovan’s son. The district attorney.”
The officers looked at each other and one of them went over where Kelly was now sitting at the table. He looked around at the Chinese food and candles and the unwrapped gift and bouquet of roses and said, “It’s your birthday?”
“Yes,” she said. She tried to smile, but she wasn’t sure if it was working or not.
“Happy birthday,” he said. “Is everything okay here?”
“It’s great,” she said. “My boyfriend did all of this for me.”
The officers asked a few more questions, but it was pretty obvious once Vince Donovan’s name was mentioned they were leaving this alone. When they were gone, Jesse walked over and stood next to Kelly. She could feel the trickle of sweat down the side of her face.
He leaned down close again and said, “Good bitch. Now eat.” He grabbed her by the back of her head and shoved her face into the plate. “Eat it!” He used her hair to move her from container to container, making her take a bite of each one. It was smeared on her face and in her hair and she was choking on it by the time he was done.
He picked up the champagne bottle then and turned it upside down. “I’m sorry; I started the party without you. I tell you what, if you’re a good girl in the bedroom, I’ll let you have your present and a drink of water.”
He grabbed her head and pulled her up against him and kissed her lips. Kelly felt like she wanted to gag, but she’d learned at the tender age of ten that wasn’t a good idea. Then he took the magnum champagne bottle and rubbed it against her pants between her legs and said, “Come on, birthday girl...let’s go have some fun.”
Kelly had to miss two days of school after that night and to this day, she wasn’t sure how much damage he actually did with that champagne bottle. Whether or not she could have children was anyone’s guess.
Derek’s fists were clutched tightly at his sides when she paused and looked at him. He had sweat forming across his brow and his chest was rising and falling heavily. Finally, he said, “So your friend called the police?”
“Yes. That time...and then the last time. The time he really did try and kill me.”
“But that first time, between his threat to kill you and his mention of his daddy, it was pretty much pointless to say anything I take it.”
“Yes,” she said.
Derek dropped down into one of the chairs and covered his face with his hands. He sat there like that for a few seconds and when he looked back up he was pale. “God, I’m so fucking sick over this. I’m so sorry, Chloe. God, I’m so sorry!”
Chloe went over to him and sitting in the chair next to him, she took his hands in hers. “Look at me,” she said. He did and she said, “I spent three years doing everything I could to overcome this. I don’t intend to turn back now. I don’t want you to be sorry for me...I just need you to understand two things: The first one is that although I’m here with you and I feel safe at this moment, I still don’t fully trust you. I couldn’t honestly tell you that I will ever be able to. The second reason is: If Jesse finds me I intend to protect myself this time. I intend to do whatever it takes to keep him from ever hurting me again.”
Derek’s blue eyes were almost black again as he said, “He won’t ever lay a finger on you again.”
Chapter 8
Jesse and his dad drove up in front of the luxury high rise where his father rented him an apartment.
“I had them stock the pantry for you, son. There’s a debit card in the office on the desk. I transferred funds into it until you’re able to get back on your feet. I have a meeting I have to get to, but I think you should have everything you need for now.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Your mother would like to see you for dinner tomorrow night at seven. Your car is in the garage.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Jesse?”
“Yeah?”
“Please leave things alone with Kelly.”
“I can’t just stop loving her,” he said, as sincerely as he could.
He couldn’t flat out lie and say that he’d leave her alone. His parents would be keeping a close eye on him now and he’d have to have an explanation for why he was out of town.
“I just want to talk to her, Dad. You know that I wouldn’t hurt her, right? I was drunk. I’m sober now. I didn’t even drink the Pruno in prison. You know that I’m not some homicidal maniac, right?”
That part, Jesse firmly believed. He wouldn’t kill just anyone. He didn’t have that in him. But Kelly asked for it...no, she begged for it. She was worthless and killing her would actually be doing society a favor.
“Of course,” Vince said. Jesse didn’t think his father sounded too sincere and it pissed him off a little bit. Then he said, “I’m worried about you, not her.”
“Don’t,” Jesse told him. “I won’t do anything that lands me back in jail, okay? It’s not like I have any immediate plans anyways.” That was a lie. Jesse had been planning this reunion for two years. He couldn’t wait.
Vince nodded again. Jesse smiled at his father and Vince smiled back and put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “It’s good to have you back, son.”
“It’s good to be back,” he said. He got out of the car with his things and watched his father drive away.
He took his pathetic box of belongings and made his way up the fourteenth floor where his apartment was. He dropped his things inside the door and glanced around. It was huge with floor to ceiling windows that looked out onto the city. He glanced over at the granite counters and saw his keys sitting there and smiled. He made his way down the hall and found the office his father mentioned. The debit card was there on the desk. He picked it up and put it in his wallet. Then he pulled a picture out of it before putting it back in his pocket. It was a photo of him and Kelly that had been taken on a trip when they went to Martha’s Vineyard.
He traced his thumb across the lines of her smiling face. He wondered if she knew he was out, or was the stupid little bitch still smiling, thinking that she’s safe? He marveled at how she thought she was smarter than him. Moving to a different state and changing her name did absolutely nothing for her because she was stupid enough to turn up at a place where his father was. She had to know that Vince would tell him. The thought of her living in terror sent a surge of adrenaline through his veins. His life was ruined because of her. For that, she was going to sacrifice hers. First, he had some business here in New York to deal with.
He sat down at the desk. He turned on the computer and once it loaded he typed in “People Search.” That offered him millions of hits. He clicked on one that said, “Find anyone, anywhere.” He typed in Chantelle Taylor, proud of himself for his memory. He’d only been privy to her last name the day the cunt had come into his lawyer’s office for her deposition.
It was burned into his memory now. The search engine returned three of them. It was easy to narrow down because two of them were over fifty. Then he had to pay the $9.99 fee in order to get the full address. He put in the information off of the debit card and less than two minutes later he had all of her information. She still lived in New York, in a walk-up apartment in Washington Heights. It was convenient since the site also told him that she was employed by the State of New York at the satellite D.A.’s office in Washington Heights. Imagine that.
He wondered how much information the nosy little bitch had been feeding to Kelly about him over the past two years. He would have to ask her when they met. He looked that office up since he wasn’t aware of it. It seemed that it was a new branch his father had created and it dealt with immigrant affairs, domestic violence and witness support. He was shaking his head, wondering how many other lives Chantelle had ruined by not minding her own bu
siness. He wrote down her home address and left the apartment.
It felt good to be behind the wheel of his luxury sports car again. He drove with the top down, breathing in the “free” air. There were so many things that Kelly took away from him, driving and breathing fresh air were two of them. There were so many reasons that she needed to pay for what she’d done. He had a list as a matter of fact. While he sat behind bars and his future all but disappeared because of her, he’d made a list. He’d even alphabetized it. Pay, she would...in good time.
He parked four blocks away from the D.A.’s office on 166th street. It wouldn’t do to get ticketed close to the building or get caught on one of the cameras. He walked the rest of the way and found an empty bench in the courtyard across the street. He took a seat and he waited. One good thing he could say about prison was that it taught you a lot about patience. Patience wasn’t one of Jesse’s virtues. He’d always been an instant gratification kind of guy. But he’d learned over the past two years that sometimes...you just might appreciate something that much more if you waited for it.
Just after five o’clock people began pouring out of the building. He had his phone out and was casually skimming through it as he watched. A group of women came out and walked towards the parking garage. None of them looked young enough to be Chantelle. He had a pretty good memory of what she looked like, but women had a tendency to change their hair and their weight had a tendency to fluctuate...He saw a woman just then who could be the one he was waiting for. She was a tall, willowy brunette.
When Jesse saw Chantelle she had her hair down. He remembered it because it was just masses of wiry curls. This woman had hers up in a bun so it was hard to be sure. She was the one that looked most like her and she was walking in the right direction...alone. He stood up and stretched and when there was another surge of three or four people who came out and began walking in the same direction, he merged in behind them.
Chantelle walked with a lazy grace, never once looking back over her shoulder or seeming to notice there was anyone behind her at all. She got to the end of the street and turned right onto Amsterdam. The group in front of Jesse went left. He stopped at the corner and watched her. The street she was on now was quiet without many people out and about. He looked up at the sign. It was 164th Street. He didn’t want to follow her along this one. If she turned around, or anyone remembered seeing him there later...That would be all bad. This wasn’t the street she lived on, but that was alright. He had her address. She wasn’t going to be hard to find. He went left and followed the other group to the end of the street. When he got to the next corner, he looked back. Chantelle was out of sight. He turned back around and headed in that direction again.
Instead of continuing on when he got back to the corner where he’d lost her, he turned back towards the D.A.’s office and walked towards his car. It was close to six o’clock now and he’d been parked on the street for almost two hours. He had to be really careful not to get a ticket. He drove the car along the street Chantelle had taken on her route home and he parked along 164th.
He got out then and walked to the end of that street and turned left. Chantelle’s building was the fourth one on the street. It was on the corner of Edgecombe and 163rd in a really nice neighborhood. His Dad and the city of N.Y. must be paying their employees well. The buildings all held anywhere from ten to fifty apartments. Chantelle’s building was a converted brownstone that probably only held about ten studio apartments.
The neighborhood was livelier on this street and people were out jogging and riding their bikes. Jessie walked along one of the jogging trails for a while, just checking things out until the sun began to go down. The deeper the sun sunk into the horizon and the grayer the city began to look; the less people were out in the neighborhood.
When things quieted down, Jesse stepped inside the double doors of Chantelle’s building. There was another set of doors with a buzzer to get inside, and this small entryway held the mailboxes. The boxes had names and numbers on them. Chantelle lived in 2B. Her name was the only one on the mailbox, her maiden name. He hoped that meant she hadn’t gotten married and she didn’t have a roommate. He probably wouldn’t “talk” to her here anyways.
The fact that she lived on the second story would pose a problem. At least he knew that she walked to and from work, and from the looks of the neighborhood, she probably did some recreational walking on her days off as well. That would be useful. Realizing that he was hungry all of a sudden, Jesse turned and headed back towards his car. He put his hands in his pockets and whistled as he walked.
Chapter 9
It had taken some doing, but Derek had at last convinced Chloe to ask Roxy for more time off. He needed to know she was safe and he couldn’t protect her there. He dropped her off at the club, making sure before he left that she was under the watchful eye of Jake and with the promise she would call him as soon as she was ready. Then he drove to his office. He took care of a few things when he got there that couldn’t wait and then he got busy with the business that he couldn’t get off his mind.
Before they left New York, Chloe had shared with him the story of the night Jesse finally went off the deep end and tried to kill her. It all started because he’d come home from work and found her talking to a neighbor at the mailbox downstairs. She said that she’d tried to hurry because she knew Jesse was expected home any minute. She risked at the very least a severe tongue lashing if he caught her talking to another man. At worst...what had happened that night.
When they got upstairs, he’d asked her, “What were you and Stanton talking so cozily about?”
“He was just asking me who he was supposed to call about pest control. His wife saw a spider or something,” she’d told him.
“He couldn’t have asked the super?”
“Yeah, he said he was going to call him...but he ran into me first and...”
“And you were dressed like a slut so he made conversation so he could stare at your tits.”
“He wasn’t looking at me, Jesse.” She said.
Jesse had been quiet then for a minute and then he’d smiled and said, “I believe you.”
She cautiously smiled back and said, “Thank you.”
“You want to know why I believe you?” She hadn’t really, but she’d nodded. “Because you’re nothing to look at. You flaunt yourself like a slut and it’s really embarrassing. I think you need a boob job. We’ll make an appointment...”
“No Jesse. I don’t want to have surgery. I’m okay with...”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence. He grabbed her by the throat and pushed her against the wall. “It doesn’t matter what you’re okay with. I want new boobs to play with so you’ll have surgery...or I’ll just find a pair attached to a less worthless bitch.”
Chloe told Derek that she hadn’t known what came over her that night, but she’d just had enough. How dare he think he could order her to have surgery? He already picked out her clothes and dictated her hairstyles and monitored and criticized everything she did.
She snapped and said, “Go ahead, Jesse. Do whatever you need to do. I will not have surgery and you can’t force me to.” Something darker than anything she’d ever seen passed between his eyes then and he’d grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the kitchen. Once in there, he grabbed a carving knife out of the block on the counter.
“You don’t want to have surgery? Maybe I’ll just cut them off then?”
She was fired up and not thinking clearly, otherwise she would have been trying to calm him down. Instead, she’d found that voice inside of her that said, “No more.” She knew she only had one shot. She raised her knee and let it land hard in the soft spot right between his legs. His eyes had gone wide and as he doubled over, he dropped the knife.
She told Derek that to this day, she wished that she’d thought of picking it up. That night had been the worst beating of her life, but she finally found a way to lock herself in the bathroom and call Chantelle. All
she had thought about was getting away. Thank god for Chantelle, or she would not have survived the night.
Derek listened to her stories with the rage building inside of him, reaching dangerous levels. He sat at his desk now and typed in Jesse’s name. The hits came back with Vince’s election to D.A. and his bio...A NYU graduation announcement...An announcement that he’d joined a big law firm in New York...and then nothing but front page articles...about his arrest.
The headlines almost all read: Jesse Donovan - Son of N.Y. City District Attorney, Vince Donovan arrested for domestic violence and attempted murder. He skimmed through them all. Nowhere in the articles did it mention the “girlfriend’s” name. He went to a sight where someone can access public records and he pulled up the court case. That was where he saw Chloe’s former name: Kelly Ward. She was listed as the “victim” and “lead witness for the prosecution.” Then a few months later, there was an article about Jesse taking a plea deal. Under the deal he would plead to a lesser sentence and be remanded to State Prison for a term not to exceed two years.
Derek shut down the computer. He was sick to his stomach. Two years? For what he put her through...he should have gotten life, or even death. Two years was another slap in the face for her. He couldn’t imagine how she had survived everything she’d gone through. Not only had she survived, but she’d come out the other side as a strong, confident woman. She was afraid, yes...but hell, so was he. Jesse was a ticking time bomb and until he was put away for good, she would be at risk. Derek intended to do everything he could for her...and anything he had to in order to protect her. Jesse would never touch her again...no matter what Derek had to do in order to ensure that.
Derek picked up the phone and dialed his father’s office. “Dad, I need to see you, tonight.”
“Okay son, are you in New York?”
“No, I need you to come here. It’s important.”
Derek knew his father would know that he wouldn’t call and demand a meeting with him unless it was something urgent. “Okay son, I’ll leave right after lunch. I can be there by four.”