She stopped moving. Completely. I wasn’t even sure she was breathing.
“Sweetness, I know you don’t know my family very well, so I’ll let you in on something. Not a goddamn person will judge her or you for something someone else did. Especially about something like this. It would seriously piss me off hearing you say that, but I know you don’t know them.”
I waited a second, hoping my words were penetrating. I also needed a minute to calm myself down. I knew, from day one sitting across from her, someone had done her dirty. There was no reason for a smart, funny, beautiful woman to be standoffish if someone hadn’t hurt her.
She laughed, made jokes, smiled, but gave nothing else. She used her sassy attitude and wit to dazzle you, hoping you’d be so ensnared by her beauty and lively disposition you wouldn’t look any further. I bet that worked well for her. I bet men saw a tall, leggy woman, sexy as all get out and stopped there.
Women wouldn’t know what to do with her, friendly, kind, a little bitchy, but again, beautiful. Tuesday could lay it on thick and hide in plain sight. No one would question her, because on the outside she looked great, but her insides were rotting away.
After spending the night with her, I could’ve guessed someone had cheated on her. She wore her suspicion and distrust like a warm blanket. It would make even more sense why she was holding on to the age excuse. Lots of things were making sense now. However, I’d never have guessed the depth of Travis’s mendacity.
What a low-down motherfucker.
He’d stolen her privacy and safety. So, he’d taken everything.
Motherfucking dick.
“Baby, tell me about the cards and stuff that you were sent.”
She sucked in an audible breath and shook her head.
“Tuesday, Sweetness, tell me.”
“I can’t do this again,” she whispered. “It was awful.”
“I bet it was.”
I could feel her heart pounding against my ribs. There was nothing I could do but hold her and wait her out. And it took a long time, lying there in her bed, in the semi-dark. I looked around and in the quiet, I noted this room was much like her living room. Nice, expensive furniture but it was void of any personality. I hated this for her. She should not be living locked away behind white walls and loneliness. Hated it.
“At first I didn’t understand why all of a sudden I was getting notes and flowers sent to me,” she started. “Travis told me it must’ve been because I’d done my first billboard and my face was plastered all over. Stupidly, I bought it.” There was nothing stupid about it. Travis was a master and it was a perfectly plausible reason. Proving, yet again, he was a dick. “At first the notes weren’t all that bad, just creepy. Men asking me to marry them. Telling me I was beautiful. It seemed like a new bouquet showed up every day. But then it got worse.”
She finished on a whisper. I didn’t rush her, just let her process what she needed. All I could do was gently stroke her back and wait. It was a long time before she spoke again and when she did, she broke my heart.
“The declarations of love and proposals never ended, and then the death threats started. People started telling me I was a whore and going to hell. Some of them said that I should be beaten for defiling my body. Others said it was because of women like me that men were tempted and cheated. I’ve been called every name in the book.”
I felt the first of her tears start to soak through my tee. Pain leaked from Tuesday, and I desperately wished I could take it from her.
“Pictures.” Her voice hitched. “Of men touching themselves. Asking me if I liked what they were doing. I was being mentally assaulted every day. I was forced to see things I never wanted to see. Forced to read the vilest things about myself. And I didn’t understand why people hated me so much.”
“How’d you find out what he’d done?”
“My manager hired a PI after the police said they couldn’t do anything. The death threats were the only thing taken seriously, but those were a dead end. The PI tracked down the photos. He moved quickly to get them taken down. I was kept in the dark about what the PI and my manager were doing until one of the websites who’d received a cease and desist letter produced a model release.”
“A model release?”
“Travis was a photographer. He’d done headshots of me and portfolio building work using images he took of me. I signed a blanket model release. Now do you understand why this is my fault?”
“Tuesday, none of what happened is your fault.”
“Yes, it is. I trusted him. So stupid. Beyond fucking stupid. I gave him permission to sell images. That’s it. Just images. Not a release with specific file numbers. Not specific shots. Just a fucking, fucking, generic blanket release saying he could sell anything. And, boy, did he sell them.”
Big, wracking, violent sobs shook her body.
She was done.
And I couldn’t bear to hear anymore. Motherfucking prick. His abuse of her trust was outrageous.
Tuesday cried and I held on. There was nothing else for me to do. No promises could be made that I would make it better for her. I couldn’t. The only vow I could make was that I would stand by her side and get her through this. I’d carry her and help her heal. But she wasn’t ready to hear it, nor would she believe me.
No, there was nothing to do but hold my woman and pray I had the strength to battle her demons. They’d dug in deep and laid claim. It was going to take time and effort to dig them out, both of which I was willing to put in.
The hardest part was going to be getting Tuesday to trust me when she had no reason to ever trust again.
18
Tuesday
It had been three days since I’d woken up in Jackson’s arms after I’d cried myself to sleep. And that was after I’d spilled my guts. Now he knew what an idiot I was.
So what?
I’d wanted this, right?
Wanted him to leave me alone. Wanted out of the dumb sex-only arrangement. I’d made my bed and now I was lying in it. The only problem was, if I’d wanted it so badly why did it hurt so much?
Jackson was nice about it. He’d tried his best not to make it awkward when I’d woken up with swollen eyes and a stuffy nose. He’d made coffee and stayed for a few minutes after he’d finished his cup. He was soft and gentle. Steered the conversation to safe topics like Mercy and Jason getting married in his parents’ backyard. He’d told me he’d helped his dad fix a fence and he and his brother, Nick, would be spreading mulch for their mother and helping them get everything ready.
I’d succeeded in making everything so uncomfortable between us the only thing left to talk about was landscaping. I bought that, too. Distance. After he’d waited the appropriate amount of time, he bailed. I didn’t blame him. Especially now that I’d laid all my baggage at his feet.
Travis had made me incapable of trusting or loving anyone ever again. Jackson had hightailed it out of my life and that was a good thing. One less complication. I had enough to worry about. And just because I was irrationally missing Jackson didn’t mean I hadn’t kept myself busy.
I’d met with my attorney, who was charging me out the ass to fight a lawsuit that was unwinnable on my agent’s part. She knew it, I knew it, and both lawyers knew it. Though they were happy to rack up billable hours, the question remained: why was Meredith pushing so hard to keep me under contract? My manager, Lambert, was at a loss as well.
The craziest part was, in the beginning, I didn’t want to leave Meredith, I just wanted to slow down. It wasn’t until she booked the Florida job, I’d expressly told her I wasn’t doing, that I’d fired her. Lambert understood why I wanted to cut back. He knew how much I hated modeling. I’d confided in him a lot over the last ten years he’d been with me.
Both Lambert and Meredith had been with me when I’d endured the nightmare that was Travis Manning. Lambert had worked tirelessly to get all the pictures off the internet. He’d helped me find a computer genius who may or may not have done some
not so legal things to make sure the images were as gone as they could be in today’s internet world. It had cost me a fortune, and it didn’t mean that people still didn’t have the photos stored on their computers. All it meant was it wasn’t in my face 24/7. It was something. And something was better than nothing.
So, while Meredith was behaving like a complete bitch and money was flying out of my bank account, I was wondering how many photoshoots I was going to have to subject myself to in order to pay for everything and not cut into my savings.
I’d also gone over my grandmother’s insurance statements. I’d picked up an itemized bill from Autumn Lakes and combed over both and compared the numbers. Something was off. The insurance had been billed for prescriptions that were not on the nursing home’s statement. I’d called Mercy and told her what I’d found, and she asked me to come in and meet with her.
Now, I was in my cute little Mini Cooper rental hoping I got to keep it another week so I could postpone car shopping. Which was only one step lower than getting a bikini wax on my favorite things to do list. The fact I’d rather lie spread eagle while an esthetician spread near boiling wax on my lady parts and ass crack, right before she ripped it off in the most painful way was saying something. And what it was saying was, I’d rather have my pubic hair torn out by the root than shop for a car.
I found a parking spot in front of the DEA office, grabbed my folder, and made my way into the building. I dashed by Jason’s office and hit the elevator. It was incredibly rude of me, but I didn’t want to see Jackson’s cousin. I didn’t want my inability to be a normal, functioning person to be rubbed in my face. Not that Jason would be ugly about it, but maybe Jackson had told him about my two-hour crying jag before I’d passed out, and I didn’t want to take the chance. Mercy would ask me about him again, but she’d understand why I’d pushed him away.
Her door was open, and I walked in, stopping dead in my tracks when I saw Jason standing near Mercy’s desk.
“Hey, Tues, thanks for coming by,” Mercy greeted.
“Yeah, no problem. Here, I’ll just leave these with you. I highlighted the discrepancies.”
Mercy, being my best friend for a long time, therefore, knowing me well, gave me a once-over, and leveled me with a stare.
“What’s wrong?” Her hand went up, halting my answer. “And don’t say nothing.”
“I’m in a hurry. I want to make it in to see Gran before she goes for physical therapy,” I lied, not feeling bad about the untruth.
“Wrong answer.”
“What do you mean wrong answer? Gran has PT in twenty minutes.”
“I believe she does. What I do not believe is my best friend is trying to run out of my office like her panties are on fire to get to her grandmother before PT. What gives?”
“Jeez. Nothing. I’m just busy.”
Mercy commenced a stare down. And when she stared, she could hone in on what the issue was with laser precision. She’d always been able to read me. Mainly because I never hid from her. Now was one of those times I wished I could.
“Did you talk to Jackson?”
My body jerked before I could stop myself. And Mercy, being my bestie, didn’t miss it.
“Um . . .”
I didn’t want to talk about this at all but especially not in front of Jason.
“Jackson said he called Ethan out the other day. Some flowers and note had been delivered,” Jason said conversationally, not knowing he’d just landed a blow. “Any update from him?”
“What?” Mercy asked in a whoosh, leaning forward she gripped the side of her desk. “It’s starting again?”
Fuck!
“Um . . .”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
That was a good question with an easy answer. Because she had Jason now. She was happy, and after all she’d lost in her life, I was not dragging her back into this shitstorm while she was planning to marry the man of her dreams.
“What’s starting, again?” Jason’s normal, happy tone was replaced with a not so happy one.
Jason waited for someone to answer, and I held my breath. I’d rather go back to the Jackson topic and tell him all about my screwed up, non-relationship sex agreement with his cousin than tell him this.
“Tuesday?” Jason practically growled.
Mercy placed her hand on his bicep and shook her head. By the time she’d walked around her desk to me, I wanted to vomit. Why was this happening now?
“Sit down, honey.” She led me to one of the two chairs and guided me to sit.
“What did the note say?”
“I don’t remember exactly. Ethan has it. After the flowers were sent, I guess I hadn’t replied to the anonymous bouquet in a timely fashion. The note just called me an ungrateful bitch. It wasn’t bad. Nothing like before. I was just taken off guard. I thought it was over. I didn’t call Ethan, Jackson did.”
“Jackson was there?” she whispered.
“Yep. He found the note and made the call before he even came back inside the house.” I sucked in a breath and held my friend’s eyes. “I’m so sorry this shit is leaking into your life again, and now—”
“Stop speaking before you piss me off. You will never apologize for what that scumbag did to you. It didn’t leak into my life the first time and it isn’t now. You’re my best friend.” She squeezed my hand. “Does, um, Jackson . . .”
I nodded but still answered. “I told him everything. It wasn’t my finest hour. After everything, I just lost it, and once I started, it all poured out.”
“Everything?” she asked with wide eyes. I knew why she was so shocked. Other than the people who were involved in the situation, I didn’t talk about what Travis had done. Not to anyone for any reason.
“Good. That’s good.”
“Did you hear me? He knows about all of it. Now not only does he think I’m a slut and a bitch for being mean to him, he can now add internet porn star and crazy person to the list.”
The growl that emanated from across the room reminded me we had an audience. Something I’d forgotten.
Dammit.
“Never, Tuesday, and I mean, never, talk shit like that about yourself again where I can hear. I haven’t the first clue what happened or what the two of you are talking about. What I do know is you are none of those things.”
I hung my head in shame. He had no idea; I was all those things.
“We gotta tell Jason, honey.” I shook my head and didn’t look up. “You did nothing wrong. We’re not alone anymore. He needs to know so he can help protect you.” I remained quiet. I’d told the story once and I wasn’t telling it again. Not now, not ever. “I’m gonna tell him.”
I nodded and continued to look at the tan Berber carpet under my feet.
It had taken Mercy almost an hour to fill Jason in on the worst year of my life. And that was because she’d skipped over the previous four when I’d been dating Travis. You could sum up those years in a few words: lying, cheating, manipulating, son of a bitch. There, done. It was the following year, when the incessant cards, emails, and deliveries had shown up, that took longer.
Travis Manning and his gift that kept on giving. And here we were five years later, and it was giving some more. Like the bad fart that lingered and burned your nostril hairs.
“Motherfucker!” Jason roared, and I jumped. My eyes snapped to his, and I was surprised he had his phone out.
“Nick,” he barked into his cell. “There’s a situation I need you to punt to the right people.”
Nick? As in Nick Clark, Jackson’s brother, who also happened to be an FBI agent.
Oh, no!
“Mercy . . .” I whispered.
“It’s okay,” she replied, and I earned another hand squeeze.
“What’s he doing?” I asked.
“Making it right for you.”
“What?”
“Tuesday Knowls—” Jason stopped abruptly. “He did?” Another pause. “Yeah, she just told me. Appreciate it. Keep
me in the loop.”
Jason disconnected and turned to me. It took a second, but he cleared the anger from his face and all that was left was compassion. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the same look Jackson had given me before he’d gone. Something I was grateful for. He never did look at me with pity, only understanding.
And I’d still let him walk out the door.
“What’d Nick say?” Mercy asked.
“Jackson already briefed him.” The side of Jason’s mouth curved up. “Actually, he more like demanded Nick look into the situation. Old and new.”
“What?”
“Called him three days ago, explained everything but instructed him not to talk to anyone about it. Jackson said it was your business and not anyone else’s. The only reason he told Nick was because he’s in a position to do something about it.”
“But nothing can be done,” I told him. “We tried. There’s certainly nothing Jackson can do.”
“Then you don’t know my cousin very well.”
“Why would he call Nick? He left, and not on good terms. I haven’t talked to him in three days.”
“And if you have to ask that, then you really don’t know my cousin.”
I threw my hands in the air and declared, “No, I don’t know him. That’s why I’m asking. Why would he waste his time calling his brother? I’ve been a complete bitch to him. I pushed him away. Every time I see him, we argue.”
Jason looked at me in a way I didn’t understand. His eyes were soft but looked conflicted.
“Did you know that Jackson told everyone he was going to be a firefighter when he was in kindergarten?”
That was a bizarre turn of topic.
“Um. No. I didn’t know that.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the image my mind had conjured up. I could totally see a cute little boy Jackson playing with firetrucks.
“Everyone thought he’d grow out of it. Most kids are fascinated by big trucks and firemen. But it was more than that for Jackson. When he sees something he wants, and he knows what he wants the second he sees it, he doesn’t stop until he achieves his goal. He’s the most ambitious man I know. Him setting his sights on you doesn’t surprise me. It also means he knew you were exactly what he wanted in a nanosecond, then set his course to make you his. It also doesn’t surprise me that when he found out you had troubles, he waded in. That’s Jackson.”
Claiming Tuesday: The Next Generation Page 11