by L A Cotton
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Donohue,” Dennis crooned, and Marcus lapped it up. Sucker. Dennis hated the man as much as I did. Apparently, my family wasn’t the only one he had a hold over.
“Dennis, please call me Marcus. You’ve earned that right by working close with Jackson. I’m glad he has you at his side.”
Dennis nodded but remained silent next to me.
“Jackson, I trust everything is okay down on campus?” Marcus’ eyes said more than his words. He wanted to know if there had been any problems with the coke.
“So far so good, but do we have a plan if things go to shit?”
“We’re working on it. Distribution is to remain suspended until further notice.”
We were one step ahead of him there, and I’d already given the order for the guys to stop dealing the coke. At least until we knew more.
“And you indicated earlier that you had something you wanted to discuss with me?”
Dennis flinched beside me, unaware that I had planned to quiz Marcus on Landon here. Now.
“Yes.” I cleared my throat and looked my uncle right in the eye. “Were you aware that Landon Smith was out and back in Reibeckitt?”
Marcus’ composure didn’t falter, not even for a second. Instead, he leaned forward slightly on his clasped hands and said, “Ahh, that.”
I bristled. Of course, he knew. It was his damned business to know.
“Why didn’t you give me a heads-up?”
“Jackson.” Marcus shifted and loosened his tie a little. “I make decisions in the interest of the business. Landon poses no threat since being incarcerated. Let’s just see how-”
“No threat?” My voice rose with anger. “He drugged and kidnapped Ana, my Ana. I think I deser-”
“Jackson.” Marcus raised his hand, extending it in a calm down gesture. “I can assure you that Mr. Smith has served an appropriate punishment and will not bother you again.”
Mr. Smith? My blood boiled underneath my skin, his words doing little to reassure me.
“This is bullshit, and you know it. I want someone watching him.”
“Already taken care of. Peter’s guys are on it. You should know better of me.”
Dennis cleared his throat beside me. It sounded natural, but I knew Dennis, and I knew he was trying to cut some of the tension whirling around the room.
“Anyway, let’s get down to business, shall we?”
Marcus launched into a rundown of business operations. The drugs on campus, acquisition and redistribution of stolen goods, and unnamed jobs for Maconey. The list went on and on, until his voice rolled into one long sound.
“There’s a job I want you to handle personally. Maconey and I both agree it's time to bring you into the fold.”
My ears perked up, and I leaned forward, trying hard to ignore the nervous energy bouncing in my stomach. I was waiting for something like this. Although Marcus had been using me more and more lately, it was usually for cut and dry exchanges. If I wanted to find out more about Dad’s death, then I had to get close to Marcus’ inner circle, and Maconey had been on the scene for a long time. He had known Dad and so had his right-hand man, Perkins.
“You’ll be riding with Perkins.” Marcus’ eyes flashed to Dennis. “Just Jackson this time.”
Dennis nodded.
“You’ll be out of town the weekend after next. Take care of things here and don’t leave a trail. It doesn’t go outside of this room. Dennis can handle campus activities for a couple of days, right, son?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Donohue.”
“Now, please excuse us; I need to speak with Jackson for a moment, in private.”
Dennis shot me a look, but I nodded, and he left.
The door clicked shut behind him, and Marcus wasted no time.
“Stella has been on the phone again. Roman is proving difficult. I’m beginning to think I made the wrong decision.”
“What other decision was there?”
Roman had been arrested alongside Braiden after the fight at Reibeckitt, but he was released the following day without charges. I guess Marcus and Petrelli felt it was more important to pin everything on Braiden. But Roman was an attention seeker. The same as Braiden, he thrived on the limelight, payback, and the chance to cause mayhem. In the end, Marcus moved him and his mother—Aunt Marie’s sister, Stella—out of Chastity Falls. It had taken Peter’s guys to make Roman go, and now Stella was holed up somewhere trying to rein in a loose cannon.
Marcus sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I sometimes wonder if it would have been easier if he was in Florida State as well.”
His admission surprised me. Marcus had remained tight-lipped about Braiden, but I didn’t get a chance to ask why he was bringing Roman up. The phone started ringing, and Marcus stretched his arms above his head. “Business calls. Perkins will contact you directly. This is important, Jackson.”
I heard the veiled threat.
Don’t fuck this up.
~
“So you have no idea what it could involve?”
Dennis voiced his concern over my latest job as soon as we were back on the road.
“Like I said already, I have no idea. A new supplier probably.”
“I don’t like it.”
“It’s my in,” I stated keeping my eyes on the road ahead.
“In for what exactly? What are you hoping to accomplish here?”
“Dennis,” my voice warned.
“Come on, Jackson. Give me something, anything. This shit is eating you up, and you never talk to me about it, Ana, anyone. What do you hope to achieve with all of this? Because, from where I’m sitting right now, you think you’re in control of this situation, but you’re not. It’s controlling you, man.”
I heard my friend’s words, but they rolled off my need for vengeance. If Marcus had a hand in killing my dad, then I was going discover the truth, and I intended to make him pay. I hadn’t worked out the specifics, but one way or another, Marcus Donohue would pay.
“He has to pay for what he did.”
“And how, exactly, do you intend to make that happen? This is Marcus Donohue we are talking about, Jackson. Donohue. That name doesn’t just mean something around here because it is the something. Donohue blood, sweat, and tears built Chastity Falls. You’re not just taking on one man. You have to see that. You, of all people, should know that.”
The car swerved off the road and screeched to a halt. My hand gripped the wheel so tight I watched the blood drain from my knuckles. Frustration pulsed through my whole body.
“I have to make him pay. It’s all I can think about. You said it was eating me up, but you’re wrong. It’s destroying me.”
My admission lingered in the space around us, weighing down on me.
“I can remember them, you know. They always acted more like family than friends. Marcus would say, ‘Your father is one of a kind, Jackson. Don’t you forget that.’ He loved my dad, and Dad loved the life…” Dropping my head to my hands resting on the wheel, I inhaled deeply. “Marcus has done some shitty things in his life but killing Dad? I can’t wrap my head around it. It’s like my head knows it, but my heart is unwilling to accept it.”
Dennis regarded me for a second. I could feel his eyes watching me. “You believe her?”
“I didn’t, not at first. But after it sunk in, it was like something clicked into place, like maybe a small part of me has always wondered, or even known.”
“What can you remember about it?”
Closing my eyes, I let myself be transported back eleven years.
***
“Aunt Marie, are they back yet?” I yelled from the yard to where Aunt Marie was preparing dinner. She wasn’t my real aunt, but I was allowed to call her that since we had no family in Chastity Falls except for the Donohues, and Otis and Velma, but they lived in Tillamook, the next town over.
“No, honey. Your dad promised to call when they left.”
“Grow up, Jackson. We’re
nine now. We don’t need our dads around all of the time.” Braiden poked me in the ribs and pulled a face.
“I know, but it’s been almost two days. I’ve missed them.”
“Briony, did you hear that? Jackson wants his daddy because he’s missed him.” He fell back onto the grass laughing.
“Leave him alone, Braiden. I’ve missed Dad, too.”
“Oh God, not you, too. You’re both so pathetic. I need to get some new friends. Friends who want to actually have fun instead of sitting around moping about their daddies being away.”
The phone rang in the distance, and I watched Aunt Marie leave her spot at the kitchen sink and go into the hallway to answer it.
Maybe it’s Dad, I wondered. But Aunt Marie never returned to fetch me, so I figured it wasn’t.
We carried on our game of kickball until Aunt Marie shouted for us to eat, but when we got inside, something felt wrong. Aunt Marie wasn’t wearing a smile. She always wore a smile, even when Braiden upset her, which was a lot lately. He was always saying mean things and doing things that he shouldn’t. Just yesterday, he’d cut the hair off all of Briony’s dolls. He’d been grounded for a week.
“This looks good, Aunt Marie,” I said, hoping to make her smile again.
“Suck up,” Braiden whispered in a low voice so that his mom didn’t hear.
“I’m not eating those.” Briony rolled the peas around her plate with her fork. She looked like she might puke.
“Briony Marie, please work with me a little. A tiny pile of peas. Even you can manage that.”
“Yeah, Briony Marie,” Braiden sang in a silly voice.
“That’s enough,” Aunt Marie scolded him, and we all sat silently with our mouths hanging open.
Aunt Marie rarely shouted. She saved that for Uncle Marcus. Something was definitely wrong.
We all ate in silence, and it made me fidgety. I forked the last mouthful of mac and cheese into my mouth as the front door opened and footsteps pounded on the hardwood floor.
Aunt Marie rushed from the table and into the arms of Uncle Marcus who looked like he’d been crying. Braiden, Briony, and I all looked at one another.
“Jackson.” Uncle Marcus’ voice quivered, as if he’d been crying. “Come here, son.”
I went to him, letting him wrap me in his arms.
“What’s wrong Uncle Marcus? Where’s Dad?”
My stomach felt all funny like the bottom was falling out. I didn’t like it.
“My sweet boy. Everything is going to be okay.”
Uncle Marcus held me close to his chest. Behind me, I heard Aunt Marie sobbing. It made no sense. Where was Dad? And why was Aunt Marie crying?
“Jackson…” Uncle Marcus held me back at arm’s length, looking down at me. “Something happened to your father.”
***
“Shit, I had no idea.”
“They had been away on a job. They handled everything together back then. Marcus was the boss, but he treated Dad as more than just his second. They were equals.”
“What did he tell you happened?”
“Not a lot. There was an accident. Dad got caught up in it. No details, and I didn’t ask any questions. I was nine, for fuck’s sake. But ever since that day, Marcus changed toward me. I was never able to put my finger on it until Ana told me what she’d uncovered.”
“And then?”
“Things made a little more sense. I think he was different toward me because he felt guilty.”
“But Ana didn’t find any hard evidence?”
“No, it was more like what she didn’t find. No official police reports or news reports. Nothing about an accident. No paper trail. Nothing.”
“What do you think?”
“Every time I look at him now, I see the man who killed my father.”
I hadn’t said those words to anyone. Not even Ana. Part of me felt that saying them aloud would be too much, but actually, I felt relieved. Dennis had been trying to get me to share the burden. To open up. And, much to my surprise, it had worked.
“This shit is messed up. I always knew Donohue was a crazy fuck but murdering his best friend?”
“I need proof; I need to know he did it. One hundred percent. And then I need to dig up something that will take him down. All or nothing.”
“I’m in. Whatever you need, I’m there,” Dennis said without so much as a thought, and I wondered how much more there was to his link to the Donohues because he spoke like a guy with a vendetta.
But now wasn’t the time for someone else’s grudge.
I had my own.
And I intended on settling.
Chapter 7
~ ANA ~
The roar of the crowd drowned out the band marching across the center field playing their rendition of the team's song. Excitement sizzled in the air and even I felt the pre-game buzz, despite everything.
“Are you nervous?” Elena nudged me, mouthing over the noise.
“I don’t know what I feel.”
Between the growing distance between Jackson and me and the buildup to the first game of the season, I felt numb. All week the house had been a conveyor belt of people, in and out. The guys over to talk business or the Fallen players over for pre-game discussions. Although the discussions seemed to end as beer pong and Nicky puking in our kitchen sink¸ everyone was psyched to have Jackson leading the team into the new season.
Everyone except me.
“He’ll be fine. The team loves him. The crowd loves him. The freaking school loves him.” Elena slung her arm around my shoulder and squeezed her to me. “Everyone wants a piece of Jackson freaking Pierce.”
But that was part of the problem.
Thirty Seconds to Mars blasted out over the speakers and the crowd went wild. Everyone around me was screaming and cheering, dancing in the stands. And I stood rooted to the spot, waiting for him to appear. Waiting for him to look back in my direction and to let me know everything was going to be okay. To calm the storm raging in my stomach.
Seated in the VIP area, we had a restricted view of the tunnel, so all I could do was wait. The frenzy grew louder and louder until the whole stadium was on their feet and I knew the Fallen were entering.
Jackson led the team out of the tunnel, helmet hanging at his side. I couldn’t see his face, only the back of his head and the number thirteen on his jersey. His body was tense as he moved robotically. A burst of relief flowed through me at the sight of Dennis to his right, followed closely by Shaun, Kyler, and Travis, but it was short lived when I noticed Briony approaching, making a beeline for Jackson.
Wild red curls bounced forward as she smiled overenthusiastically at them and pressed herself up against Jackson—my Jackson. He looked down at her, but I couldn’t see his expression. Jealousy burned through me and I ground my teeth together. Noticing my change of mood, Elena wrapped her small hand around mine. “She’s just making a fool of herself. Everyone knows he’s with you. Everyone, chica.”
None of that mattered. Briony was going out of her way to piss me off. And as if on cue, her eyes found me over Jackson’s shoulder and she smirked.
“Oh no, she didn’t, puta zorra de mierda,” Elena hissed.
“She did,” I murmured still transfixed on Briony, who was now rejoining the rest of the cheer squad.
Coach Parker called in his team, clasping an arm around Jackson’s shoulder. They looked every bit team captain and coach, but I knew it was all for show. Coach Parker was unhappy with Jackson’s position on the team, but Marcus insisted that he play and hold the number one spot.
The visiting team entered the field and the crowd started to settle. I felt Paul watching me a couple of times from his seat behind me, Elena, Tyson, and Jamie. But every time I turned my head, Mari had him engaged in a rundown of everything that was happening.
As I watched the teams move into their starting positions, Jackson glanced back to the VIP section searching the faces. His eyes connected with mine, and he held my gaze. The noise
silenced. The excited crowds blurred into nothing until there was just us. Even in among the crazy, there would always be us. I had to hold onto that.
I had to.
~
“Great game, Pierce.”
“Nice win, dude.”
“Fallen for the championship.”
Everyone who passed us, as they came to refill their drinks, stopped to congratulate Jackson on the Fallen’s first win of the season. They’d beaten the visiting team by a comfortable 21 – 7. Jackson might not have wanted the captain’s position, but he commanded the team with ease. Braiden had ruled with fear, but with Jackson, it was different. The other players respected him, and it showed.
But with every congratulation, Jackson only shut down more.
Looping his arm around my waist, he pulled me in front of him like a shield and dropped his chin on my shoulder. “Can we get out of here yet?”
“And leave your adoring fans? How would that look?” I mocked, enjoying that things seemed lighter between us since the game.
“I need you. Only you.”
Tilting my neck to allow his lips to brush my skin, I smiled. “This is your party, Jackson. Just a little while longer, and then we can go home.”
“Dude, the team is looking strong. Even O’Hara looked good out there,” an unfamiliar guy said, approaching us.
“Dick. I heard that,” Jason O’Hara yelled across the kitchen where some of the team was gathered. “I still got it.”
A chorus of hell yeah and damn straight filled the room and Jackson drew me into his chest even tighter. The guy stuttered and skulked away when he realized Jackson wasn’t going to respond, passing Dennis who had our drinks.
“Beer and a Diet Coke for the lady.”
“Thanks, Dennis.” I smiled at the huge guy in front of me. Since my emotional breakdown, things were different between us. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I felt better knowing he was looking out for Jackson.
“I don’t know how you drink that shit; it tastes like piss.”
“What tastes like piss?” Tyson and Elena joined us and our three became a five.
“Diet Coke.”
“Elena drinks it by the liter. Grosses me out.”