by Lolah Lace
“I’m not sure I heard him correctly.”
“You did. He’s gay. He’s got his entire body in the closet with one foot out. Like six people know his preference. It’s his Achilles heel. He’s completely paranoid he’s going to be outted and he just comes out to you. Winston is a strange one.”
“I’m not going to say anything ever.”
“I know. He must really like you to tell you that.”
“Winston hates me.”
“Winston’s the vainest one in the lot. He likes you because you’re pretty. He’s obsessed with pretty ladies. You are a pretty lady.”
Jagger removed a cigarette lighter from the box and flicked it a few times. He dropped it back in the box and retrieved a white envelope. I went over to the window and looked out at the vast land.
“This is a letter. It’s in my dad’s hand. It’s addressed to me. I’ve never seen this. It has an old date on it. The date he took his own life. I know that date.”
I turned back to look at him. He had my full attention. I walked over to him.
“It has you name on it?”
“The envelope says, to my lad, Jagger Bowie Adkins, from your Dad. The date is the day my father killed himself.”
Was Jagger thinking what I was thinking?
“Kat, I think it’s a suicide letter.” He was.
“You think so?”
“The letter is open. But I never opened it. I’ve never seen this before.”
“Maybe it’s something else.”
“Like what?”
“A Will.”
“My father didn’t have any assets. I was the breadwinner in the family.”
“You were a kid. You don’t know what he had or left to you.”
Jagger removed the trifold pieces of paper from the envelope. He slowly unfolded the pages.
“This is not a will. It’s a suicide note.”
“Wait. Do you want to read it?” I could see it was a handwritten letter.
“Yes. My father was an alcoholic but I was thirteen when he killed himself. I don’t know why he did it. I can’t believe Linda had this all along. Why didn’t she give it to me?”
“I don’t know.”
“You ready? I’m going to read it out loud.”
I shook my head yes and moved closer to him.
Dear son,
Every day without your mum is hell on earth. I failed her. I failed you. I’m sorry to leave you with this bloody mess. It hurts my physical body to be alive. Your mum was the love of my life and the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m slowly dying of a broken heart and it literally is moving to slow for me to manage. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better dad. That day I was at the pub drinking. The day your mother was killed by the bloody arsehole. Instead of coming home from work, I went to the pub. I'm the reason your mum was home alone when Daniel Paul came into our home. I always hated him. He was a loser, a common addict and a lifetime perp. He had a record with the authorities a mile long. Your mum was too nice. She took pity on him and he took her life. I hope he rots in prison
I wanted to be there for you but I wasn’t strong enough to carry on. I was a wreck without your mum. I couldn’t stop drinking and after I lost my job I lost custody of you. I’m glad your aunt Linda took you in. She was a true savior. I didn't want my sorry to consume you. She took you away and you didn't have to witness my despair. You have your aunt Linda, now. She’ll take care of you the way she always has. I tried to drink myself to death and I failed at that like I failed at being a husband and a dad. I’m sure you’ll find out how I did it. Living with the guilt and the lies was too hard for me. I want you to know that I loved you. You were my truly my son. That bastard that murdered your mum was a fucking sperm donor. No matter what he says he’s nothing. He tried to convenience your mum to abort you. I tried to make us a proper family. That jealous bastard that knocked your mum up as a teenager ruined our entire family.
I didn’t kill my self because of anything you did or didn’t do. One day I hope you will grow up and understand this. Life was a struggle for me without your mum. I couldn’t do it anymore. Life had me knackered to a point that I couldn’t come back from the pain and regret. I think I have some screws loose in my head. I wanted to die even if suicide was a sin. It’s not your fault. Be a good lad and listen to your aunt Linda. She loves you just as much as your mum and me. Please don’t hate me.
Love Dad.
Silence filled the attic. The letter was clear. It was sincere and probably the most honest words his dad ever wrote. I couldn’t see Jagger’s face because his face was planted firmly in the letter. He shuffled the three pieces of paper a few times. I removed the fedora from his head and tossed it back in the box. I ran my fingers threw his hair.
I heard a whimper and my heart started beating fast. He held the papers in one hand and tilted his head until it landed against my stomach.
His wail of agony weakened my knees but I was poised to stay on my feet. His arms wrapped around my butt and pulled me so tight into his face. His sobs were punching the walls. I raked my hands through his hair and tried to keep my tears inside my eyes.
Jagger was crying into my stomach. His muffled screams vibrated across my belly. His fingers gripped and clawed at my side. I could barely breathe. I felt a wave of hopelessness. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. He’d read the most heart-wrenching suicide note.
Jagger broke our bond and abruptly jumped to his feet. He dropped the crumpled papers from his hands. He wiped the tears from his face and peered right at me.
“Christ!” He kicked over the box that once held the letter. I jumped back a step.
“What the fuck Kat!” He was talking to me but yelling in all directions. “What the bloody hell?!”
“Jagger, it’s okay.” I know my words didn’t mean much even before I said them.
“Nothing’s bloody okay! I never looked like my mum. She’s blonde with blue eyes just like Aunt Linda. But my dad, I don’t look like him either.”
I watched Jagger walk over to an old chest of drawers. He removed his cell phone and started quickly typing into it. I hadn’t even noticed he placed it there.
“What are you doing?” He ignored my question. Maybe he was calling Linda. “Jagger, what are you doing?” He looked up and glared at me for a brief second. At least he knew I was still in the room with him. He wiped a tear that leaked from his red eyes and then he went back to typing.
“Fuck!” He yelled.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I found a bloody picture of Daniel Paul.”
“Okay.”
Jagger flipped the phone screen toward me. I looked from his face into the cell phone screen. “What?”
“LOOK AT HIM!!!” He roared so loud I almost ran out of the room. I stared at the picture and instantly got a chill that made my body shiver in place. I looked back at Jagger and let out a little gasp. I didn’t mean to do it but it just crept out.
“It’s okay.” I couldn’t believe I could say that much.
Before I could think of appropriate words Jagger launched his cell phone across the room. The crashing noise stopped my heart for a second.
“Christ! Bloody Christ! Why didn’t she tell me this? Shit! FUCK!!!” Jagger started kicking shit all over the place. I recoiled back so I wouldn’t get hit by any of the flying projectiles.
After his fit of rage stopped he turned and rushed toward me. He wrapped his arms around me and cried into my neck. He mumbled things I couldn’t interpret until I heard one coherent sentence.
“I look like my mum’s murderer.”
I didn’t know what to say. Calm down seemed stupid. How could he be calm? Shhh, seemed trivial given the circumstances. I settled on.
“It’s going to be okay.” Those were just as bad as their predecessors but I couldn’t really think straight. His pain was my pain and I was feeling it deep in my soul.
Jagger pushed away from me and grabbed a chair.
He lifted the chair over his head and hurled it at the window. It went crashing threw the glass. I stood there speechless. Before I could blink Jagger rushed down the stairs and out of my sight. I wiped my face and followed him. I didn’t see him but I heard him running down the steps.
I followed the sounds down to the first floor. I came upon Jagger, Linda, and Joann standing at the open front door. Linda had a basket of flowers in her hand. Joann was looking at me. Mandy had grabbed one of her dolls. She ran past me up the stairs.
“What’s going on here? Did you two have a fight?” Joann asked.
“Jagger, there’s a broken chair that’s been chucked out of a window,” Linda noted what I already witnessed.
Jagger stood calmly and that gave me more worry than it should have.
“Linda, Daniel Paul murdered my mum.” He was clenching his teeth with every word.
“Yea, that’s public record. He’s in prison for a category A offense.” The nervousness in her voice gave her away.
“Is, Daniel Paul, my bio, biological—” Jagger couldn’t get the rest of the words out and I didn’t blame him. When Linda didn’t speak, Jagger yelled. “I found the bloody suicide letter!”
“Listen, Peter, he’s your dad. He loved you. He loved your mum. He took you on your first trolley ride.”
“I! Don’t! Give a fuck! About a trolley ride!” Jagger’s voice rattled throughout the room. I held my balled fist to my chest.
“Jagger!” Linda cried out his name like that would be enough to ease his pain.
“You’re a fucking liar!”
“Now calm down,” Joann mumbled calmly.
“You, shut the fuck up!” Spittle spewed from his lips. He was foaming at the mouth. I didn’t know what to do and standing frozen on the rug seemed to be my only course of action. I didn’t even remember walking all the way down the steps.
Jagger reached into the bowl on the table. He grabbed the SUV keys and rushed out the front door leaving us all standing there in utter disbelief.
He was gone. We heard him pull away from the property. He was in no condition to drive. My heart was aching. My throat was scratchy. My eyes were itching.
“Oh gosh, Katrina, I’m sorry.” Linda was talking to me. “He’ll cool off. We can call him on his mobile. He’ll be back.”
What made her so sure? I’d never seen Jagger blow up like this. Had she? I was sure he didn’t have his cell phone on him. Calling him wasn’t possible. I was stuck out here without him. He was stuck out there without me. I was worried. This wasn’t a normal bad day. Everything happened so fast. I wasn’t prepared for this. I wanted him back here with me. Out there anything could happen.
“I’m going to pack our stuff up.” I found something to say.
“No, you don’t have too. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it from him forever. I just didn’t want to ruin anything he had going on in his life.”
“I understand.” I turned and made my way up the stairs. I could hear Linda crying distance and Joann trying to console her.
I passed Mandy’s bedroom and peeked in. She was sitting on the bed with headphones over her ears. I went to the room and packed my things. I packed Jagger’s things too. I didn’t know if he was coming back. I didn’t know what to do. Go back to the hotel was an option. I could call an Uber or something but what if he returned and I wasn’t here for him.
I sat on the bed for a few minutes and tried to figure out my next move. The cell phone, he spiked it somewhere in the attic but where? I got up and went to the attic to look for it.
I found the phone in a corner. The screen wasn’t cracked at all. The clear case was also intact. The crash made a lot of noise but didn’t seem to do any real damage. I took his cell back to the bedroom. The face recognition was denied right away but I knew the code.
I didn’t know whom to call. I was going to wait an hour and reach out to someone. Maybe Jagger would return. Once the time ran out and no Jagger I called Winston. I didn’t want too but perhaps he’d heard from him.
“Hello, Winston. It’s Katrina.”
“You have Jag’s cell.”
“He left it.”
“Left it?”
“At his aunt Linda’s house. Have you seen him or heard from him?”
“No, why? Is he missing or something?”
“He left here sort of pissed.”
“At you?”
“No, at his aunt. He found this suicide note his father left for him. He didn’t take it well and I’m worried about him.”
“What note? There was never a suicide note?”
“It was hidden away in Linda’s attic. He snapped. He’s very upset.”
“Bloody fuck! So he just took off?”
“Yes, but I don’t know where. I’m really worried. He doesn’t have his cell phone on him.”
“I’ll be there to pick you up. We can go look for him together.”
“Okay, thanks Winston.”
I couldn’t say I felt better. I didn’t feel anything but concern.
Chapter 33
KATRINA
I hoped Winston was really on his way. When he pulled into the front of the house I was relieved to leave this place. Winston came inside and exchanged somber pleasantries with Linda and Joann. He helped me put the bags in the waiting truck. I climber into the back and so did Winston.
Winston wasn’t driving. Charlie, one of the bodyguards was driving. I was happy to be on my way. I needed to find him. He needed supportive people around him. As much as I wasn’t fond of Winston I knew he cared about Jagger.
“How was his mood?”
“He was hurt. He was angry.”
“I called Abbey Road and a few other recording studios. He’s not at any of ‘em. He sometimes makes music when he’s upset.”
My hands started shaking and Winston noticed before I could hide them.
“Katrina, don’t worry. We’ll find him. He’ll turn up. I’m waiting on a call from the head of security. The trucks are rentals. They have GPS. Soon as they call we’ll have his whereabouts.”
“Okay.”
I didn’t even think of that. Now I wished I’d call Winston earlier. Just then Winston’s cell phone rang. He answered it. I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation.
“Yeah…Are you sure? ... Is the truck parked? … Give me the address…Text it to my mobile. Thanks, Robbie.” Winston ended the call.
He leaned forward in his seat. “We’re headed to Chelsea. I’m sending the address to your mobile.”
“Aye.” The driver responded.
I watched Winston out the corner of my eye. His text messages were blowing up. He seemed fine at first but the longer we drove the more anxious he seemed to be.
After awhile we stopped moving. We were parked somewhere. Winston scooted forward to have a private conversation with the driver.
“Katrina you get in the front seat. We’ll go in and get him.”
I grabbed my purse off the seat and got out. I opened the front passenger door and slid in. I looked back at Winston and he was putting the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. The bodyguard in the driver’s seat reached across my lap and opened the glove box. He removed a gun. I pressed my body back in the seat and watched as he put the gun in the holster under his suit jacket.
I wanted to ask questions but my mouth didn’t work. I quietly sat as they both exited the vehicle. They walked into a regular looking apartment building and I didn’t see them anymore.
I was nervous sitting alone in the truck. I wanted to lock the doors since the truck was still running but I was too nervous to push any buttons. The neighborhood looked nice. It didn’t look like we were in a shady part of town. I hoped that meant I wasn’t going to get kidnapped or carjacked. But I had no idea what a shady part of London looked like. So there was no comfort in this passenger seat for me to hold on to.
I watched the time on my cell phone. I remembered Jagger’s phone was in my purse. After six minutes they were
back. I sat like a statue as they stuffed Jagger’s limp body into the backseat. The bodyguard got in the driver’s seat and took off without a word.
“I turned my body to look into the back seat. I forgot to put on a seat belt. I turned back to buckle up and then the backseat had all my attention.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s fucked up,” Winston replied.
“What’s that mean?”
“He’s high. I’m sorry Katrina. A drug dealer lives here.”
“What did he take?”
The bodyguard took his eyes off the road to glance at me and my stupid questions.
“Black Tar,” He could tell I didn’t have a clue. “Heroin.”
I looked down at the back of Jagger’s head. His face was on the leather seat next to Winston’s thigh. Jagger’s long legs were on the floor of the truck. His arm was hanging to the floor. I reached back as far as I could the pushed his hair back off of his sweaty forehead. I hated seeing him like this.
“Is he going to be okay?” I naïvely asked. Winston didn’t answer.
I wanted to ask more questions but Winston looked stressed out. I turned my body straight in my seat. I stared out the side window and just let the tears fall.
I sat quietly until we made it back to the hotel. I wanted to ask why we didn’t go to the hospital but I figured it out before my mouth asked.
Jagger was too famous for a hospital. This was why we were sneaking into the hotel from the back and going up a service elevator. Two security guards met us and they carried Jagger’s unresponsive body into the suite. They even placed him in bed.
I didn’t go into the bedroom. I sat on the couch. I waited for Winston to come out. I didn’t want to see Jagger like that. Winston walked up and took a seat on the couch beside me. He leaned back and exhaled.
“What happened at Linda’s?”
“He read the suicide note and he blew up.”
“What did it bloody say?”
I reached into my purse and pulled it out. I didn’t know if I was betraying Jagger by showing Winston the note. I didn’t know what to do. I handed it over to Winston.