Punished: Melbrooke Menace

by Dahlia Kent

  She snorted. “In your dreams, bitch. That shit’s expensive.”

  “He works at an investment firm. I’m pretty sure he can afford it.”

  “Trust me, if he’s taking you to a place like that it’s because he’s expecting you to put out.” She smirked at me. “And we both know you’re way too uptight to fuck a guy on the first date. Not to mention this ridiculous dream you have of giving your v-card to someone special.”

  Finished taming my hair into soft waves around my shoulders, I set the hairbrush down and faced her directly.

  “Jackson isn’t like that.”

  “You don’t know dick about the guy, Jenna.” Stacy shook her head. “You don’t know the name of the firm where he works, you don’t know where he lives or where he’s from. You don’t even know his last name, for crying out loud.”

  “That’s why we’re meeting up,” I said. “We’ll get to know each other better on our date. So if you have a list of questions you want me to ask him before you’re satisfied he is what he says he is, maybe pass it to me before I leave.”

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and scooted off my bed. “I’ve already warned you that there’s something a little off about this guy, but you don’t want to listen to me. You’re a grown woman so do what the hell you want.”

  Scowling, I opened my mouth to retort, but I was interrupted by a chirp from my phone. A text from Jackson.

  I’m in your lobby. Should I come up?

  “Jackson’s here,” I said, sullen. “I have to go.”

  “You gave a guy you don’t know our address? Are you crazy?” Stacy said, glaring at me.

  “How else was he supposed to pick me up?” After firing off a text to Jackson I’d meet him in the lobby, I grabbed my purse. “Look, I didn’t tell him our apartment number, OK? Relax. I’ll see you later.”

  She didn’t respond, which was fine by me. If she’d said anything else, I might have said something that would ruin our friendship.

  Since we lived on the second floor of the building, I opted for the short flight of stairs down to the lobby. My heels clacked on each step down, and the hemming on my summer dress slid against my thighs.

  My stomach twisted in knots of excitement and dread. I wasn’t dressed in anything fancy, but I thought I looked nice. Still… what if he took one look at me and decided Real Jenna wasn’t pretty enough? Or what if, when we finally met, the easy conversation we had online turned awkward when we were face to face?

  Other doubts crept in too. Like, what if Stacy was right? What if he wasn’t what he seemed? In hindsight, I agreed it wasn’t the smartest idea to tell a stranger where I lived. He could be a creep, or a stalker, or a serial rapist, or a murderer, or any number of bad character. Especially in a place like Melbrooke that attracted crazy like two opposite ends of a magnet.

  Fear and worry paralyzed me on the last step.

  It’ll be fine. I repeated the words in my head. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open to the lobby. I didn’t see anyone right away except a man in a large, black hoodie and faded jeans reading the advertisements on the building’s messaging board.

  “Jackson?”

  The man turned his head.

  “In the flesh,” Jackson said, coming forward with a smile. He swept his gaze over me in appreciation, his eyes widening. “Wow! You’re stunning.” Then he laughed. “Well, I already knew that from your picture.”

  “You’re not too bad yourself.”

  He laughed. It’s true. He was even more handsome in real life than the pictures I had of him on my phone.

  Black sunglasses sat on top of his golden brown head, and his sea green eyes had a mischievous sparkle to them. He looked more like the kind of guy who worked at a surfboard rental shop than an investment firm.

  There were no pictures of him in a suit online, and to be honest, with his relaxed posture, I couldn’t picture him in a stiff suit being businesslike. Then again, never judge a book by its cover. Nobody went around immediately pegging me as a waitress either.

  “I’m relieved,” he said. “I don’t usually do online dating and I was worried you were catfishing me. I didn’t think someone as beautiful as you would still be single.”

  “You know, I thought the same thing too.” I nodded.

  He grinned. “You also couldn’t believe you were so beautiful and yet single? That’s a little conceited, don’t you think?”

  I laughed, and whatever doubts I had about him were washed away. Sure, it bothered me a little he was dressed so casually for our dinner date, but I ignored that.

  I couldn’t wait to see Stacy again and tell her how wrong her assumptions were. Jackson was funny, charming, and as straightforward in person as he was in our emails and texts.

  I pointed at myself. “Should I change? I feel dressed up.”

  “I like you the way you are.” His smile made be blush, but it didn’t have the same intense effect or inspire the crazy arousal within me when the man in the suit had done the same.

  “OK, then I guess we can go. Where did you park?”

  “Ah, I forgot to text you that my car is out at the mechanic,” Jackson said, his features remorseful. “I had to take a taxi here. Can we take your car?”

  I hesitated. “We can, but just warning you she isn’t a beauty.”

  Something quick flashed across his face before I could place the emotion. He was smiling and I put it out of my mind as something I misread.

  “As long as it can take us where we need to be, that’s OK with me.”

  We took the stairs down to the building’s garage. My dented metal monster sat by itself in the row of parking spots. In the harsh light of the underground parking, it was obvious it was in need of a new coat of paint. I unlocked the car and we both got inside.

  “There’s no light on the right,” he said, twisting to point at the white wall behind the car when I started it. “I think your right brake light is out. You should get that fixed or you’ll get a ticket.”

  “Yeah, I keep meaning to get it looked at.” I didn’t want to add I didn’t have the funds necessary to make fixing my car’s brake light a priority.

  “One last thing, can we make a stop at the bank first?” Jackson asked as we drove out of the underground parking. “Won’t take long. Promise.”

  Our conversation on our way to the bank wasn’t awkward at all. We were like good friends but with something more just beneath the surface.

  Every so often he’d find an excuse to touch me and I liked it. I kept imagining what it would feel like when we were alone together somewhere private.

  Stacy said I was too uptight to have sex on the first date, but I felt a connection with Jackson I’d never felt with anyone.

  Stacy was wrong.

  There was such a thing as The One and Jackson was mine.

  “Pull around back,” Jackson said as we got to the bank’s location. “It’ll be easier to get on to the highway from the street back there. Don’t turn off the car. Just let it idle.”

  Slipping his sunglasses on, he flipped his hood up, his features completely obscured.

  I frowned. That’s weird.

  I wanted to ask him why he was hiding himself like that, but I held my tongue as he got out of the car. Melbrooke was enduring a hotter than usual summer, as the news forecast had said. Even though it was after five, the sun was still out and the day was warm.

  Maybe Jackson was the sort to vigorously protect himself from the negative effects of the heat. Putting him on the spot by questioning his methods would be impolite.

  While I waited for Jackson, I turned on the radio and found a station playing a song I liked. I hummed along until it ended and advertisements came on. Another pop song started to play when Jackson raced toward the car with a large bag slung over his shoulder. He yanked open the car door and that was when the sounds from outside filtered in.

  The shrill ringing of an alarm and people shouting.

  “What the fuck are you waiting
for? Drive!” Jackson yelled as he jumped into my car and slammed the door shut.

  “What’s going on? What are you—?” A choked gasp escaped me as Jackson pulled out a gun and pointed it at me.

  “I said drive the fucking car!”

  Terror gripped me, icy fingers tracing my spine. My hands shook, but I managed to drive out of the bank’s parking lot.

  “Hurry the fuck up!” Jackson shouted. His once handsome face was twisted in a scowl that made him the ugliest thing I’d ever seen. “If the cops catch us, I swear I’m gonna blow your brains out, bitch.”

  Trembling, I sped the car faster than I’d ever driven it before. I cried so hard I had to blink several times to clear my vision.

  “What did you do?” I asked in a shaky voice. “Did you rob a bank?”

  “Shut the fuck up and drive until I tell you to pull over.” He pressed the gun against my cheek, the metal cool against my skin. I whimpered, trembling harder. “And stop crying, you little cunt. Don’t make me give you something to cry for.”

  I followed his order and kept my mouth shut. My heart raced, my stomach roiled, my head pounded with a fierce headache from crying. I didn’t know how long I drove, but it felt like forever. Why was this happening to me?

  Fear smothered me. I tried to think straight, tried to come up with ways I could rescue myself from this situation, but everything was drowned out by panic.

  It dawned on me I should beg for my life, but somewhere along the way I’d lost my voice. All I could do was drive, and hope that I would wake up soon from this nightmare.

  “Pull over here,” he said abruptly, indicating an abandoned park in a seedy neighbourhood.

  I slowed the car, terrified that once the car came to a stop, he’d blow my brains out like he promised.

  “You rat me out to the cops and you’ll be going down for this too, bitch,” he said once the car came to a stop. “Here.” He opened the bag and flung two wads of cash at me that bounced off my thigh to the floor. He smirked and slapped the dash twice. “Use it to get something better than this piece of shit.”

  Then he darted out of my car and sprinted away like the demon he was all along.

  Three

  —

  What do I do?

  I sat in the car gripping the steering wheel, panic threatening to swallow me whole. A tightness formed in my head from how hard I cried. My heart thudded in my chest.

  I’d just been used as a getaway driver for a bank robbery.

  You didn’t know that’s what he was doing.

  No, I didn’t. So the wisest choice would be to head straight to the police and tell them everything. That Jackson—if that even was his name—set me up. But then I remembered his threat before he left. That if I ratted him out, he’d take me down with him. What was that supposed to mean?

  He’ll get you locked up in prison too.

  He’ll kill you.

  “Oh, god,” I sobbed and covered my face.

  How had this happened? And why me? What was I going to do?

  OK. OK. I sucked in deep breaths as I struggled to marshal my thoughts. Home. I needed to go home. Back to Coburg where it was so boringly idyllic that insane stuff like this never happened. I’d get my stuff from my apartment, and head straight to my parents’ arms where I was safe and protected. I’d hide out there for a bit and think on things. Maybe everything would be smoothed over while I was gone.

  But Stacy was at the apartment. I couldn’t just return and suddenly start packing. I was supposed to be on a date with a fabulous guy. If she saw me, she’d know something was up, and I’d have to tell her what happened. And since I already had enough worries, I wouldn’t be able to handle her crowing, ‘I told you so.’ She might even call the police thinking that was the right thing to do.

  Maybe it was the right thing to call the police, but it could also blow up in my face. I didn’t want to risk that.

  I dug into my purse for my phone. After wiping away my tears, I called Stacy, adding lots of false cheer to my voice.

  “Calling me for an out?” she answered immediately.

  “Actually, it’s going so well I’m… I’m thinking of bringing him back there soon.”

  “To our apartment? No way.”

  “Please, Stace.” I searched for a reason. “I… want to… I’m ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “You know…” My face grew hot and my ears prickled from lying. Disgust roiled through me at how easily my words could have been true. An hour ago, I was actually thinking of giving a filthy-mouthed, gun-wielding bank robber my virginity. Guess it was one small mercy he showed his true colours before I made that mistake.

  “Oh, you mean you’re going to fuck him?” Stacy said. “Wow, Jenna. I seriously underestimated you.” She paused, softening her voice. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait? I mean, I know I teased you about it earlier, but you barely know this guy—”

  “I want to do it tonight,” I said in a firmer voice. “Can you leave the apartment for a bit? Can you do that for me, Stace? Please?”

  She sighed. “Fine. I’ll probably go see what Vadim’s up to.”

  “Great. Thanks a ton.”

  I hung up the phone and felt calmer than before now that I had a plan. Turning the car around, I hurried back to my apartment. Night had fallen by the time I parked across the street. I kept a vigilant watch on the building’s front doors, and blew out a shaky breath of relief when Stacy left the building. Since Stacy had a habit of forgetting something and returning to get it, I waited until I was sure she was gone. Then I hurried up to our apartment. After washing my face and taking a painkiller for my headache, I felt even better.

  Residual anxiety nagged at me. I packed hurriedly, only grabbing the essentials. Then I lugged my small suitcase back down to my car. Flinging the suitcase into the backseat, I jumped in and started the car. The wads of cash Jackson tossed at me earlier still sat on the floor. The longer I stared at it, the angrier I became. They taunted me with their presence. If they didn’t exist, I could have almost believed what happened today was just a dream.

  I reached for them. I intended to toss them out the window when a thought made me pause.

  How much money is it?

  So I counted it.

  Two thousand dollars.

  Over two month’s worth of miserable part-time work at Fred’s.

  My fingers tightened around the cash.

  Would it be stupid to hold onto it?

  Probably.

  Probably not.

  I focused on the probably not. This money might become necessary. If I was taking off now, I was forfeiting my last paycheck at Fred’s. Returning to Coburg without any cash wasn’t an option. That would look suspicious to my parents. And suspicion was the one thing I was trying to avoid right now.

  Besides, I deserved this money for what I’d been through with Jackson.

  Tucking the money into my purse, I took off.

  The late evening air did much more than cool my skin. With every breath I took, I felt cleansed of the horrendous day. Today was a normal day for me. I didn’t just unwittingly assist in a crime. Everything will be fine. Maybe this was the kick in the pants I needed to realize Melbrooke wasn’t working out for me. If I wanted to be a nurse—if that was what I still wanted, anyway—I could do that just fine in Coburg. That tiny town where everybody knew everybody, so being tricked into doing something wrong by a total stranger was unlikely.

  As I mulled over what I’d say to my parents when I showed up to Coburg, I heard sirens.

  At first, they didn’t register. Not until they got nearer and I saw the bright, flashing red and blue lights in my rearview mirror. The trill of the police cruiser right behind me startled me and sent my heart rate up in seconds.

  Panic returned tenfold. I thought I’d be able to get away from Melbrooke in time, but I wasn’t even close to the highway.

  My initial instinct was to gun it, but I immediately pushed that thou
ght aside and pulled over. The cruiser pulled up behind me.

  I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. It was the only way to stop my trembling from getting out of hand. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think, let alone come up with an appropriate explanation for what happened at the bank.

  A tall, burly police officer approached my side of the car and I forced a smile on my face.

  “Hello, Officer. How can I help you?”

  “Ma’am, did you know that your right brake light is out?” he asked, his lips unsmiling and his bushy eyebrows drawn together.

  “Oh,” I said, blowing out a deep breath of relief. Jackson—no, the thief—had told me that. “No, I didn’t know that, Officer. Thank you for alerting me. I’ll see that I get it fixed right away.”

  His gaze lingered on my death-grip on the steering wheel. He eyed me suspiciously.

  “You seem a little tense. I’m thinking maybe you did know, ma’am.”

  “I didn’t, Officer. I swear. If I’d known, I would’ve—”

  “I’m gonna need your licence and registration, please,” he cut in, his tone unconvinced.

  Once I handed him what he asked, he stalked off to his cruiser.

  Another wave of panic hit me, tempting me to just speed off while he checked my information. But I convinced myself that everything was fine. I took deep breaths to calm myself. I was almost there when the police officer came marching back to my side.

  “Ma’am, I need you to step out of the car,” he commanded in an unfriendly tone, eyeing me with disgust.

  “Officer, what’s the problem—”

  “Step out of the car right now, ma’am!” he shouted.

  I hurried to do as he said, scrambling out of the car on shaking legs. Fresh tears burned the backs of my eyes as he roughly grabbed my hands and slapped handcuffs around my wrists.

  “Jenna Alston, you’re under arrest for being complicit in a bank robbery committed earlier today at 28 Bedford Street at 5:15pm,” he said. Then he told me his name and rattled off my rights. His harsh voice seemed to be coming from far away. Cars zoomed by us though several slowed down to watch as I was being arrested.