by Rachel Leigh
“Fuck me, Jasper,” she begs in a desperate attempt to get me to give her something we both want right now. Our teeth colliding with each word that escapes.
My fingers skim her inner thigh. Pulling her panties to the side, I rub her nub with my thumb, before breaking the suction of our mouths, so that I can watch her expression. Her eyes close, fluttering beneath her eyelids. Her mouth agape and her moans tamed—for now.
Until I push two fingers inside of her and the sounds escape more intensely, reminding me that we are not alone in the house.
“On the floor,” I demand.
I help her down off the sink and lock the door, before turning the shower back on to drown out the noise.
She grabs a new towel off the towel rack and lays it down with a smile on her face, while mine still holds an obvious scowl.
I pull her back up to her knees without a word, and she looks up to me, knowing exactly what I want from her. There’s hesitation in her eyes, wondering if I plan to just leave her hanging on the edge of her orgasm. She takes my cock in her mouth as I gather her hair into my hand, holding it away from her face. Her pink fingers wrap around me as they stroke in unison with each mouthful she gets. I can feel myself pulsating with each bob of her head. Using my hand full of her hair, I push myself deeper as I try to force out the anger inside of me.
Accomplice.
Liar.
Sneak.
Not the victim you claim to be. Suddenly the predator has become my prey.
I push harder as I feel myself come undone in her mouth. She pulls away quickly, gagging momentarily and then returning to clean up the mess she left behind. I release her hair and watch as it drapes around her face. I catch my breath and lean forward with my lips pressed to her ear, “I know what you did.” I take her lobe between my teeth and suck with enough force to hit every nerve ending.
I grab my towel and wrap it around myself before washing my hands. I didn’t plan on saying anything, but I couldn't help myself.
“What do you mean you know what I did?” she finally chokes out.
“Get cleaned up and get out.”
I get myself dressed while she sits motionless on the floor. Her dress bunched up above her ass. I pay her no further attention as I walk out the door, closing it behind me and leaving her in a puzzled state.
Maybe this was wrong. But, nothing about this is going to be right.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Blakely
The shower continues to run, filling the bathroom with a thick fog that feels trapped inside my lungs. I remain motionless, sitting on the cold damp floor, trying to wrap my head around what just happened.
“I know what you did.”
What does that mean? It could be anything. I’m reckless, careless, and pretty much a pain in the ass to everyone who crosses my path. Only this time, something feels different. It doesn’t feel like the typical, you pissed me off. No, this is more. I could feel it in the way he looked at me—touched me. With no emotion behind his eyes, no warmth to his embrace. It was cold, almost lifeless. This wasn’t the Jasper that I know. Or, maybe I’ve had it wrong all along. Maybe he played me. Got what he wanted and moved on. Either way, anger consumes me, and I have to get to the bottom of this. I brush away a stray tear that escaped down my face.
I finally felt safe enough to open up my heart, to let him in. Now, he’s pushing me away. I pull myself off from the floor, tug my dress down, and shut the shower off.
After cleaning myself up and fluffing my hair, I decide to continue with my plans. Knox asked me over for dinner tonight, and whether Jasper likes it or not, I’m staying.
I step out into the hallway as the cool air hits me. And then, Knox hits me. Well, bumps into me, rather.
“Sorry Blakely, I didn’t see….Wait, were you in the shower? Knox’s scrunches his forehead and raises his eyebrows, pointing to the steamed-up bathroom.
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Must have been the person in there before me.”
Knox gives a suspicious nod. I know he’s not buying it.
“Have you seen Jasper?” I ask.
“He just left. Said something came up.”
My shoulders drop, and I let out a heavy sigh. Damnit!
“Knox, I’m sorry, but I have to go. Thanks for inviting me for dinner. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” I reach over and kiss his cheek before walking off.
“Don’t forget, your presentation is tomorrow. I know how forgetful you can be.” I hear him holler as I walk away. I give him a wave over my shoulder.
Before long, I’m face deep in my phone, dialing Jasper over and over. Each time getting voicemail. I run into my house quickly to grab my purse, but I’m stopped by mom.
“Blakely, honey, where are you off to?”
Since when does she care where I’m going? What is wrong with everyone today? It’s like the universe tipped and our moods have all shifted gears. Jasper suddenly an asshole—Mom, giving a damn, and me, scared to lose someone. I’ve never been scared to lose anyone before. Aside from Knox and Talon, I’ve always felt that the people in my life were expendable. This turning in my stomach at the idea of Jasper even being upset with me has me feeling off-balance and all sorts of nervous. I can’t lose him. Hell, I don’t even have him. But, my God... I want him. More than ever.
“Gotta go.” I slide past her and head out the open door that I never closed. This time, shutting it behind me.
I climb into my SUV, hit the garage opener and slam it in reverse so fast that I’m backed right up to the door that’s opening at the speed of a fucking snail. “Come on?” I shout at the door.
Finally free, I’m flying down the road in search of Jasper’s tan car. I have no idea where I am going, I just keep driving.
I press the phone button on my steering wheel.
“Call Jasper,” I say out loud to the Uconnect robot.
The ringing of his phone sounds through the speakers.
“Hey, it’s Jasper. Leave a message and I’ll call ya back.”
“Hey, it’s me. Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you. But, we really need to talk. You said that you know what I did? What does that mean? Did I do something at the party? It had to be. We were fine until that night. Please, just call me back and tell me where you are. I’ll come to you.”
I hit the end button on the screen and continue to drive. No destination in mind. Drive and wait, and hope that he calls me back. This void inside needs to be filled with answers.
Jasper
After stopping by and talking Josh's ear off for an hour about what a bitch life is, I decided a visit to Mom was long overdue. I used to go daily. Then weekly. Now, I stop about once a month. Dad comes more often than I do. It just seems like the more time went on, it became more of a chore than a need. It’s not that I don’t like visiting her, I do. The talks have just gotten harder over time, and I no longer hear her responses in my head. I used to feel like I knew what she would say back. Now, I can’t even guess. Is she disappointed in me? Does she want justice? Or, does she just want me to move on with my life and live it the fullest?
I’m not sure how I could do that without answers. I thought once I had a name, I’d have them all. Now, I’m left with even more questions. Maybe I should have just left well enough alone. However, I’d always know that the driver, Mike Porter, would be out there living his best life while she wasn’t given the chance to live hers.
I put the car in park and walk up the same path that I always do. Passing by Mary Weber who passed away in 1967. James Thorn who passed away in 2003, his wife Linda’s name there but no date yet. She’s prepped and prepared her place of rest next to a Loving Husband & Beloved Father. She has it all planned out. It blows my mind how these people can plan on an eternity next to someone, and I can’t even find truth in the people I care about.
I’m just about to turn down the path where Mom rests when I notice someone bending over her headstone. Not just someone, a man. A long black
trench coat, black cargo pants, and dress shoes. I can smell his cologne from here. A smell I recognize.
“Excuse me, sir,” I say. Grabbing his attention as he stands up with a bouquet of yellow roses in his hand. He doesn’t turn to face me. The roses just hang by the stems facing the ground. In the past, I’ve seen random floral arrangements, but I’ve never paid much attention to it. A lot of people loved mom. She was a big part of the Las Verdes community.
I walk closer—fearing the face I am about to discover. Part of me knows. The other part of me hopes I’m wrong. I wasn’t ready to do this, yet.
“Do you hear me?” I speak again. This time, he turns around slowly.
There he is. Smack dab in front of me. For a moment, I consider what I could do to him out here—the deceased our only witnesses.
“Jasper. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Is it? Is it really? Because, the last time we spoke you seemed a bit taken aback by me seeing your daughter.”
“Seeing? Is that what you kids call it these days?” He laughs nervously. He’s trying his damndest to hide his apprehension, but the puddle of sweat swimming on his forehead makes it all the more apparent.
“Well, it’s better than fucking, if that’s what you wanted to hear.” My tone listless—careless, rather.
It’s as if he doesn’t even hear me. He turns to Mom’s grave, sets down the flowers and actually thinks he’s going to walk away.
I almost let him.
“Is this what you do to make yourself feel better? Bring flowers?”
He stops, hanging his head for a moment, and turns back around slowly without a word.
I continue, “She didn’t even like flowers.”
“Jasper, I don’t know what you think…”
“No, Mike,” I enunciate, “it’s not about what I think. It’s about what I know.” I remind myself that I have the upper hand here.
“I know that you’re an alcoholic who degrades his wife and children. Let’s start with that.” I bite down on the urge to beat this fucker to a bloody pulp. I can smell the stench of whiskey on his breath. One swift swing and I could have him on this dried grass in a second flat. “I also know that seven years ago, when you went for a joyride with your eleven-year-old daughter, you hit and killed a woman.” I look to Mom’s grave. “This woman. My mom.” I grit my teeth so hard that I feel the crunch of a chipped molar. I spit it out at his freshly polished shoes.
“Figures that was your mom, considering the cheap piece of shit she was driving.”
I grab hold of his shoulder, digging my nails into him through the fabric of his coat. I spin him around, gaining a firmer grip on the collar of his button up shirt. I give a tug and get directly in his face. “I have the power to destroy your entire life. The last thing you want to do is piss me off. I want the truth. Every bit of it.”
“It sounds to me like you’ve got all the answers you need. Now stay the hell away from me—and my daughter.” The serious tone in his voice pisses me off even further. I grip him tighter, pulling him closer.
“You’re a fucking coward,” I grit. My jaw’s clenched tightly and my hands are shaking with rage. “Talk! Now!”
I can feel his shoulder release the tension as he slouches down from his inferior stance.
An awkward silence fills the cemetery. Not a chirp of a bird or the rustle of leaves. Just the sound of our breathing. A surrealness that, one way or another, will end. What better place for the high and mighty Mike Porter to confess his sins than in front of the resting place of the woman he killed.
I wasn’t expecting this, but everything happens the way it’s supposed to. I like to think of karma as a little cause and effect, action and reaction—what you sow, you shall reap. The reaper is here, and it’s time to come clean.
“It was exactly that, a joyride. Blakely won’t remember it like that. She’s always had a hard time enjoying the simple things in life.” His tonal shift softens, although I feel no sympathy for this bastard.
I can feel my blood moving quickly through my veins, my head feeling weak.
“Talon and Anna were at a birthday party, so I took Blakely for ice cream. Tasty Treat, I’m sure you know the place. They have the best banana splits in Nevada.” He looks at the space behind me, as if he’s having a flashback in his mind.
“Cut the small talk. Tell me what happened.” I grab his attention again, releasing my grip and taking a step back.
“We were headed home. You know how many curves that highway has, so many twists and turns. It all happened in one split second. The next thing I know, I’m waking up in a hospital bed.”
“Were you drinking? Drugged out?” I cut him off before he can say another word.
“I was wasted.” He nods his head with a forced frown.
“Of course, you were. Keep going.” I sweep the air with my hand.
“Anna dealt with the legal aspect of things while I was out. Somehow, she was able to convince the arriving officer to conceal this. I had just been named CEO at Blacksmith and any sort of ill publicity could have destroyed my career. She knew this, and I won’t lie, I was grateful.
I clench my teeth and pace in front of him. “Grateful?” I shout, “My mom’s blood is on your hands!” I grab hold of the collar of his shirt again. His face mere inches from mine.
He continues to talk, unphased by my grip. “I knew what happened. I know it was my fault. Every day I have to live with the fact that I am the reason a woman, a mother lost her life.”
I drop my hands to my side in one quick motion.
“It all happened so quickly. I never even saw the woman... your mom.”
“Stop!” I shout. I can’t hear this anymore. I fist my hair with both hands and turn away from him.
This is too much.
My mouth fills with saliva, and I can feel the contents of my stomach rising. I choke it down and give myself a minute.
I take a deep breath and attempt to finish this conversation without the details of the accident, wanting to know what happened after the accident.
“Officer Dangle.” I take a deep breath. “What’s his part in this? How did your wife convince him to keep quiet?” He doesn’t even have to answer. I know exactly what she did for him. Though, he may be blind to it.
“He’s an old friend. He’s been a longtime officer at LVPD. He’s a good man. With a family.”
“She had a family!” I shout! Pointing at her headstone. “She had a husband. A son!” I shout. Stepping on the grass where Mom is buried. Dad wanted to have her cremated. She never had time to get a will. Who could predict that her life would end at the tender age of thirty-one? I cried and begged him not to. I was only eleven, what did I know? I just knew that the thought of her body being burnt to ashes was even more unbearable than physically losing her. In the end, he didn’t do it—for me.
“I know, son. I know.” He steps forward.
“Don’t ever call me son, again.” My jaw ticks in hostility.
“I need to know what you plan to do about it.”
“That’s all you care about, isn’t it?”
“Let’s just cut the bullshit, Jasper. Tell me what it is you plan on doing with the information.”
I need time to assess my bargaining chip. What I want, how I’ll get it, and how he will lose.
I begin to walk back down the path that brought me here as his words travel through the air. “If it's money you want, I’ll give it to you. Just know that I’ve been giving it to you for the past eleven years.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I swing back around.
“Oh, your dad didn’t tell you that part. I’ve been supplying him with money every year to care for your well-being. Guess he failed to divulge that when he told you what I did.”
I never mentioned how I knew. Just that I knew. He thinks Dad told me. Dad telling me would mean that Dad knows. “You’re lying,” I spit.
“Twenty-five thousand each year until you graduate high sch
ool. That was the arrangement.”
I can’t even speak. I walk as fast as my feet allow until I reach my car. Opening the door, I sink into the seat. The contents of my stomach rising again. Only, this time, I can’t keep it down. I stretch my head out and lose it all over the dirt drive where my car sits. I grab a napkin from the center console and wipe it across my face.
There’s no way that Dad knew about this all these years and did nothing about it. No way! And, moving next door to the man who killed his wife—impossible.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Blakely
I’ve searched this town high and low with no luck. So Jasper is pissed—so what? He’ll get over it. He has to just be going through a mood because nothing can explain why he would treat me this way. The longer I drive, the angrier I get. I’m not a doormat and refuse to be treated like one. Jasper should be chasing me, not vice versa.
I won’t let him do this to me. He will not break me.
I pull over to send him another text message. Another message that he doesn’t respond to. I shift into reverse and peel out of the parking lot as quickly as I can, leaving a trail of dust in my wake. Dust that Jasper can choke on for all I care.
When someone pushes, I push further and harder. I survive this world because the fire inside of me burns brighter than the fire around me. No one can extinguish my flame, except for myself. And, I sure as hell have no intention of putting that bitch out just yet.
I go back to the Burton house.
I walk in, and my footsteps echo beneath me. The house is quiet. A stillness that mimics walking into a church full of people with their heads bowed in prayer. Unsure whether you should make a move, but unable to stand still.
Jasper’s car is out front. I’m not sure what’s in the garage, but I can tell by the set table that holds dinner, that someone is home.
Then I hear it, screaming from out back. I hurry through the house with my shoes still on and swing open the sliding glass door. They stop and all eyes land on me. Mr. Scott has tears streaming down his face. Jasper has a lawn chair in his hands. I imagine he plans to place that next to the others that are scattered in the lawn.
