by Tigris Eden
Until Her: Chapter 8
I haven’t heard from Jackson, and I am wondering if I should call or text.
Call.
Text.
Just call him.
My mind is playing tug of war over my indecision to call Jackson, but as I struggle, he beats me to it. I look down, and my phone’s screen lights up with Jackson Calling. I answer on the second ring.
“How was therapy?”
“Horrible,” I say, exasperated. I’m not lying to him either. The session was a waste of time, and the female doctor I was assigned has the empathy of a wall. “Today was hell. Beau is a mean son of a bitch and says I’ll thank him for it later, and my therapist is a cunt.” I laugh-snort.
“That bad, huh? And nice language, Annabelle.”
“It won’t get any better either. But you’ll be happy to know Ladybug is nowhere in sight to hear such language.”
“Good to know.”
I sigh over the phone, being dramatic. I know I am. But I’d like to see anyone else go through the things I’ve been going through—and will be going through for the next couple of months—and see if they don’t complain.
“I have to see the kidney specialist once a week for like…ever. And my psychologist thinks I’m more than traumatized and that I should have to endure her brand of therapy twice a week. But on the happy side of things, I did go by the shop today and ran another errand. Don’t say I’m doing too much because I’m not, Jackson. I’m not about to let this beat me.”
I talk over the noise he makes in the back of his throat because I know he’s trying to say something. “I met Lyriq, India’s friend, but I actually think they’re more than friends,” I say, changing the subject.
Jackson doesn’t speak for a moment, and when I feel I’ve totally derailed his complaints, I smile. One for Anna, zero for Jackson.
“Sounds like a full day, Anna, and while I think you’re doing way too much, I know you will beat this thing, baby. But it’s one step at a time. One day at a time. Tell me you understand why it’s important you get rest.”
With a bored and disinterested voice, I repeat back his words.
“I understand why it’s important I get rest.”
“Don’t sass me through the phone, Annabelle.”
“You got something to say, come say it to my face.” I know it’s not fair that I’m saying that to him when I know all he’s trying to do is get his case closed. I apologize immediately, and he’s quick to accept. This is new for us. When I was going back and forth to New York for work we were apart, but now that he’s gone, and I know there is a chance he can get hurt, I find it’s easy to lash out.
“How’s Ava?”
Now he’s changing tactics.
“She’s napping. She was such a trooper today, and everyone thought she was the cutest little lady ever. She was so courteous. India and I took her to the creamery for some ice cream.”
I hear Jackson make a noise in the background. I like to think of it as a manly chuckle. There are about a hundred times a day I want to make this man laugh, and on most occasions, I can. It’s a sound I’ll never get tired of.
“Anna, I’m serious, baby, please take care of yourself. All right?”
“All right, Jackson, but only because you’re being reasonable.”
“It’s only because I’m not there to give you a good talking to.”
“Talking to? Seriously? And you call me a dork.”
He grunts over the phone before his voice drops to a smooth purr.
“My talks are good, baby. They start at your mouth, and always end up between your legs.”
“You can’t say shit like that to me while you’re so far away.”
“I can say whatever I want, baby.”
Again with the smooth purr. He knows what he’s doing, and I want to be mad but can’t.
“I was just calling to hear your voice, Anna. And to tell you that I love you, and I really, really want to make love to you, so do what you gotta do so we can scratch that off my list of what makes me happy."
I smile. I know he can’t see me, but I smile anyway.
“There’re other ways we can be together and things that can make your happy list. I think you put it perfectly when you brought up how good you are with your mouth. I’m just as good.”
I’m really doing this.
Attempting phone sex with my man. I must have lost my damn mind. I don’t know the first thing about being sexy over the phone, or convincing for that matter. He knows it, too. There is laughter in his voice as he talks.
“I’m a man. I need the physical as well as the emotional and mental. But more physical than anything else. I need to touch you, Anna, to know that you’re mine.”
I laugh as an idea pops into my mind.
“Okay, duly noted.”
“Good.”
“I know we can’t talk about the case, but I hope your day was productive.”
“It wasn’t. But now I think maybe it was. Need to do some more digging and close this thing once and for all.”
“Then what?” I ask.
“Then I come home, marry my girl, get her fat with my kids, keep her fat so only I want her, and live out my days as the happiest man in Beauville.”
“Jackson, your dream is a bit skewed. I won’t be getting fat with your kids and staying that way, and certainly not pregnant all the time.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“I’m not pushing out a football team.”
“Only asking for a basketball squad.” This time, he does laugh, and I can’t help but laugh, too.
“You’re crazy.”
“Yeah, for you.”
“Seriously, Jackson. What happens after the case is closed?”
“I am being serious. Well, partly. I haven’t thought that far ahead honestly, Anna. But we’ll talk about it. Treat and I both talked about the after, but don’t know what that means now. Cases like these lead to more and more scum that need to be dealt with.
He’s saying that he doesn’t plan on leaving. At least, that’s what I’m hearing.
“All right. I’ll support whatever you decide.”
“And that’s why I love you, because you trust me,” Jackson rumbles over the line.
“Love you, too,” I say back.
“Gonna get back to work. You heal up nice and right for me, baby. I wish I was there to take you to your appointments. I feel shitty for not being able to.”
“Don’t worry about it. Close the case and come home.”
“Deal. I’ll call later tonight to say goodnight to Ava.”
“Okay.”
When he hangs up, I make my way to the restroom. I feel silly for doing this, but he did say he was all about being physical, and although I can’t give that to him, I can at least can give him a nice pic to look at. Do guys even like dirty pics anymore? I ponder that last thought as I try and think of a pose that’s sexy and won’t show my scars or hurt me.
Joey knocks on the door, and I jump out of my skin as I squeal like a twelve-year-old who’s seen the biggest bug ever.
“Oh my goodness. Anna!” Joey yells.
“I’m okay,” I call out. “You just scared me is all.”
When I look in the mirror, I try not to wince. I don’t have my color back. I’m still pale, sallow looking. Deep down, I know I’m doing too much. I’ll lie down when I’m done, I say to myself as a mental pep talk.
“You need help?”
Maybe.
It wouldn’t be weird to have my best friend help me send a somewhat dirty pic to her brother. Would it? Nah, just ask her for some help. She’ll understand. I really hope anyway.
“Yeah. Can you come in and help me with something?”
The day was long over and Jackson was pissed. He’d been staring at the contents of the envelope for the past two hours. Earlier, he'd spoken to Anna and Ava and made sure both his girls were golden. He’d even spoken to Corinne and listened to her once again try
and convince him that Vivian needed him. She was relentless. Single-minded, and only because she wanted to be a thorn in his side. Corrine wasn’t happy unless he was miserable. Thanks, Mom.
Jackson pulled his phone out and chuckled to himself. After his call with Anna earlier, she’d sent him a picture of her mouth, then a picture of her lower chin and ample cleavage. The last picture had really made him laugh, and was his new screen saver. It was Anna in her nerdy glasses. He assumed it was her attempt at looking sexy, and all she’d managed to do was look fucking adorable. Okay, and totally sexy, but in a dorky way.
His phone alerted him to an incoming text from Gaines.
Need to meet.
OK, where?
The Spot.
Time?
20 mins. Come alone.
Well, that was cryptic.
Jackson grabbed his files, holstered his gun, and left the office. He trusted Gaines. Hell, he trusted Morales, but things weren’t adding up in his department. Too many coincidences. Which in Jackson's mind meant that someone in his playground was shitting in the sandbox.
It was well past ten o’clock, but you'd never know it. New York was wide awake. People still crowded the streets. Cabs honked. The sound of the turnstiles and people walking through sounded as he passed a subway entrance.
Bright lights, big city. It was never his style. It was all too big for him. He liked the quiet vibe of Beauville. The picnics and annual Fourth of July get-togethers. Lemonade and sweet tea and bake-offs. Walking by the shops and the older generation of men who'd set up card tables and dominoes outside the barbershop, offering their life lessons or advice on how to keep a woman. He’d take that over any city. Beauville was home, and Jackson hadn’t realized how much he'd missed it until he'd moved back. Now he missed it because it was where Anna and Ava were. A bus passed by, bathing him in warm, musty air. He hailed a cab at the corner, giving the cabbie his details. This driver didn’t say much of anything really. A greeting, two quick questions on the address, and off they went. Traffic, of course, was still a bitch. Oliver would already be there. The spot was a diner in Jersey, right past the George Washington Bridge but out of the way. It was, for the most part, a place single people went to hook up. But it was private, while at the same time crowded.
Fifteen minutes later, Jackson stepped out of the cab. Oliver was waiting outside, phone in hand as he motioned for Jackson.
“Glad you finally decided to make it down.”
“You know how this traffic is.”
“It’s why I drive,” Oliver commented back before going back to his call. He told the caller on the other line he needed to go and would check back in later.
“Let’s have a beer.”
“Sounds good.”
They both walked inside. The atmosphere was loud and the décor sleek and modern. Men and women mingled around the bar and lounge area. Quiet conversations that may or may not lead to someone getting lucky or unlucky abounded. Oliver led them over to a booth where they sat and gave their drink orders to the waitress.
“What’s in the envelope?” Oliver asked.
“Some shit I got off this guy at the airport to help with the case. What do you have for me?”
Oliver sat back in the booth and placed both hands on the back of the seat and watched Jackson closely.
“What the fuck are you looking at?”
“You on the take?”
The fuck was wrong with this meathead?
“I’m gonna act like I didn’t hear you and repeat again, what do you have for me?”
This time, Gaines laughed.
“Well, someone in your department is. Word has it Tracey got demoted. I think you know why?”
“Yeah, she did. But why would I know why? Besides what she’s told me anyway.”
“Which was?”
“Our new boss is a dick.”
Jackson was interested in what Gaines had to say about Tracey.
“I think she’s hiding evidence, or withholding information that could have closed this case long ago.”
“What kind of information do you think she’s withholding?”
The waitress showed with their drinks, and Gaines waited until she’d left before he continued.
“Did you know she was the one who signed Tonio’s release papers?”
Jackson sat forward, shocked, but now interested in what else Oliver had to offer.
“You’re fucking joking, right?”
“No, man, and there was no reason to let that piece of shit go. I still don’t know how she managed that one. Your outfit wasn’t the one to bust him.”
Gaines was right. She’d let him go before Jackson had a chance to talk to Tonio, and she’d known Rikers was Jackson’s first stop this morning. Inara was dead. His leads were all dried up. The warehouse was his only other shot, but if she suspected, that would somehow be fucked, too. He knew it. Jackson stared at the envelope on the table. The information inside didn’t indicate Tracey at all, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t involved. It could all be fabricated to throw him off. He wasn’t sure if he could trust Gaines now either. What if his goal was to get the envelope the whole time? Think, Jackson. He’s not mentioned in the packet of information. No, but if he were a silent player, then he may not have been found out yet.
He had to trust someone.
He trusted Gaines. They were as close as brothers could get without actually sharing blood. Like Treat, Jackson trusted Gaines with his life. Then you can trust him with the contents of the envelope. He slid the packet in Gaines’s direction.
“What’s this?”
“Like I said, information I was given. Supposedly, this will help bring Peretti down.”
Gaines pulled out the intel and began reading it. Jackson sipped his drink. How was Tracey connected? Could she be the one stealing the information? She had the clearance, but not that high of clearance. Even Decker didn’t have that. The only one who’d have access to that kind of information was their boss’s boss’s boss. Could it have gone that high up in the command chain?
“Fuck, Jackson. Where did you get this again?”
“An informant.”
That was all he was going to tell Gaines for now; not that he could give him any more information. But Gaines didn’t know that.
“Can we get him to testify?”
No.
Jackson doubted he could even find the guy, but then again, maybe he would reach out to him.
“Number was blocked. Probably a burner cell. But I’m hoping he’ll reach out again.”
“Both people he pointed to are now either dead or MIA.” Jackson said.
“Fucked up is what it is, but maybe Tracey can lead us to Peretti? We let her hang herself out there, ass open and all.”
“You think that will work?” Jackson asked.
“Will it work? Hell, I don’t know, but what else do we have?”
Gaines had a point. There was no other choice, save for confronting her. Jackson wasn’t going to lay his cards on the table. She would deny it anyway. This meant she had something to do with Anna’s stabbing or was helping to cover it up. All this did was make him angry. It explained her reaction to Anna, though. Finding out a person you thought you could trust was actually on the wrong side of the law made him question his judgment. He’d always been a good judge of character. Tracey was a traitor to her country. One did not claim to be an American and then try to sell, aid, or even consort with known terrorists and enemies of the state. It wasn’t something that was done.
“What are you going to do with the two Marshalls?” Jackson asked.
“We told Tracey we released them, but we have them in lockup.”
At least, Gaines had the right idea.
“They give up any information?”
“Nope, they were told they were being relieved of duty. Inara’s killer got in during the shift change. But I can’t be one hundred percent sure. One of them kept asking when Tracey was coming. I think he’s in her pocket,
as well. The other one was too green to even realize how bad he’d fucked up. It was his first assignment, too. He practically pissed himself during the interrogation.”
“What a shitty web. I’m tired of getting close only to have something fuck it all up.”
“Not this time, man. This time, I’m on the case.”
“You saying I can’t clean up my own house?”
“No,” Oliver laughed. “I’m saying sometimes we all need backup. It just so happens, your backup is me. I can’t help that I’m custom-made, that I look good, smell good, and solve cases on a dime.”
Now the guy was full of shit.
“You might want to give Rick Flair back his weak ass lines.”
“You might want to get you some of that. Shut the fuck up.”
Both men laughed and swallowed down the last of their drinks.
“You can hold onto the file.”
“I was going to ask if I could,” Oliver said, standing from the booth.
Jackson did the same. As they made their way out onto the street, they stopped in front and stood on the sidewalk for a moment, neither of them ready to go. Jackson felt like someone was watching them. Gaines must have caught on because he started patting Jackson on the back while saying.
“So, you’re really tying the knot?”
“Can’t wait, and before you harp on me, this time, I know what I’m doing. Anna is nothing like Vivian. She’s honest, loving, and kind. And she’s good with Ava.”
Gaines looked surprised.
“Ava? You in one of those poly love triangles?”
“No, shithead. Ava is my five-year-old daughter.”
Oliver had been at his first attempted wedding when Vivian left him at the altar, but with all the crazy, Jackson had been unable to catch him up.
“When did you go and spawn a kid? And with who?”
“Vivian was pregnant and didn’t tell me until recently. It’s a new development, and an adjustment for me, as well. But Ava, my little ladybug, is amazing.” She was that, and so much more.
“Okay, sounds like you’re adjusting, but that shit sucks. You had to go and knock up Vivian for fuck’s sake? I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.”
Jackson glared at Oliver.
“What? I’m just saying.”