Pulled Back Again

by Danielle Bannister

  One look at the brightness in his eyes told me yes. Yes, he did believe I was waiting just for him.

  I take a deep breath, trying to find the right way to tell him. “Hawk, I don’t feel comfortable talking about my daughter with you. I only came to see how you were doing.”

  Hawk stops smiling. His once-bright eyes narrow. His nostrils flare open as he slowly licks his lips.

  “I have every right to know about my daughter, Jada.” His words come out slowly as though he’s being careful to not lose his cool under the firm grip of the guards.

  Every bone in my body tells me I should deny his claim on Janelle—lie to him, convince him Tobias is her biological father. But I can’t seem to do it. Somehow, I know he’d see through me.

  “I think you lost the right to call her your daughter the moment you took advantage of me.” The sentence is cruel and unfair, but he needs to know I don’t want or need him in Janelle’s life.

  His face grows wild with anger. His teeth grit as he speaks. “Took advantage of you? I seem to recall you begging for it.”

  My mouth opens to speak, but he’s right. I did beg for his affection. Well, my medicated mind did. Then again, my drugged brain also thought I was begging Tobias to sleep with me, so I hadn’t been in the best frame of mind. Of course, Hawk didn’t know I’d taken anything. I doubt he would believe me now if I told him the truth. Besides, the truth didn’t change the facts. He was still technically Janelle’s father.

  For several minutes, I stare at him, unsure what I’m supposed to do. I just want to walk out, but he needs to know that Janelle isn’t something he’s going to get to claim when he gets out. On paper, Tobias is the father, but if Hawk made a claim of paternity, a DNA test would be run and confirm his parental rights. That was something I couldn’t allow.

  As I contemplate my options, Hawk’s expression changes to one of what looks like secret understanding. “Of course...” he whispers, leaning in. A smile tugs at the corner of his eyes. “I get it now.” He raises his finger to his lips in a shhh motion. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He grins again.

  “My secret? What secret? What are you talking about?” I grab on to the side of the chair, sapping it for support.

  He leans back in his chair. “I know what you’re trying to do, but you don’t fool me.”

  I stand up, frustrated with his double talk, and cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hawk, but I’m going to go now. This was a mistake.”

  I’ve had enough. He has sufficiently freaked me out. Maybe moving isn’t such a bad idea after all...

  Hawk keeps talking. “No, your mistake was not coming to see me sooner. But I forgive you. I know Tobias has kept you from coming. He doesn’t want you to see me, does he? Bastard wants to claim you all for himself, but you’re mine, Jada. You and our daughter. And when I get out of here, I’ll come for you, for both of you. I’ll keep you safe. I promise you that.”

  My eyes almost fall out of my head at his rant. What is he talking about?

  “Keep me safe? From what? I’m not in any danger, Hawk. I’m happy with Tobias. Honest.”

  Hawk snarls Tobias’s name. It makes my skin crawl. The guard to his left cuffs him upside the head and tells him to calm down. Hawk tries to swallow down his anger, and it’s terrifying. Once he’s composed himself, he speaks again, but this time his tone is soft. Gentle. The way his demeanor changed so fast leaves me reeling.

  “You don’t have to lie to me, Jada. I know the truth.” He cocks his head to the side and smiles. “Ms. G. told me everything.”

  My fingers dig into the back of the chair—furious that he’s baiting me into staying longer, but I need to know what he’s talking about. Slowly, I sink back to into the seat and I cross my arms over my chest, acting far more composed than I am.

  “Ms. G. writes to me every week,” he begins. I know this much already but don’t interject; I have a feeling he’s trying to get a rise out of me, so instead I stay quiet. “She hasn’t come out and said it, but I know what Tobias is trying to do to you.”

  “What are you talking about? Tobias isn’t doing anything to me!” I nearly shriek. I’m rapidly losing my patience with his head games.

  Hawk tries to run his fingers through his shorn hair, but the ties won’t allow him to get any satisfaction from the attempt. He throws his hands down onto his lap in frustration.

  “He’s brainwashed you, Jada. Can’t you see that? Tobias has convinced you that I’m this terrible person for what I did to your father, but you know the truth. Don’t you?” His crystal-clear blue eyes search mine. “I was protecting you, Jada. I killed that pathetic excuse for a human being for you—to protect you from being hurt by that monster ever again!” Hawk leaps out of his seat and rushes the screen, taking the guards by surprise.

  In a flash, their shock sticks come off of their belts. The electronic zap against Hawk’s neck causes his eyes to roll back in his head. His body goes limp in their arms as foam starts to form around the edges of his mouth. I shout at them to stop. Scream at the top of my lungs that they’re hurting him, but the guards ignore me until Hawk drops down to the floor, motionless.

  My heart races upon seeing his lifeless body.

  “What did you do to him?” I shout to the guard on the screen. He doesn’t answer. From behind me, the guard that let me in approaches.

  “What did they do to him?” I hear the hysteria in my voice but can’t control it. They’re hurting him!

  “He’ll be all right, Miss. It’s for his own safety. Don’t worry. They zap that one all the time.” He shakes his head. “Can’t keep his cool. That kinda rage is dangerous.” The guard sighs and places a hand on my shoulder. “Might be best if you didn’t come back, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  Shaking, I turn back to the screen in time to see Hawk’s slack body being dragged out of the room by the guards, and then the screen goes blank.

  “It’s too bad. That kid used to be one hell of a football player.”

  I walk out of the building in a daze. The sun burns into my flesh, but I can’t seem to get warm. A coldness has seeped deep into my veins that I know won’t leave me any time soon.

  Tobias is right. We do have to move—the sooner the better. If we left now, we’d have a little over a year to disappear. Maybe by then, Hawk will have forgotten all about us.

  Chapter Three

  One Year Later

  Tobias

  For days now I’ve been on edge. I pace the floors, constantly look out of the windows, and watch the news for some sign of his approach. I’m doing my best to hide it from Jada and Janelle, but it’s almost impossible to camouflage. Hawk has been out of prison a full week now. A week! Even though I know we’ve done our best relocating, it’s still nerve-wracking as hell to think he’s out there—no doubt searching for us.

  I don’t know exactly what it was that changed Jada’s mind about finally moving. All I know is that the day she snuck out to visit Hawk, she saw something. Something that made her understand why I was so adamant that we leave town. She refused to tell me exactly what happened, but it could only have been that she finally saw what Hawk had become. I hated that she had to witness for herself the monster he’d turned into, but it had been the only way to convince her that he’d changed.

  It was Jada’s idea to move to Canada. I wanted to go someplace way more remote, but she rationalized that we needed to be in a place with free health care, just in case I got sick again. She also argued that we needed to live where there was a majority of white people so we’d blend in better.

  In theory, we should be well hidden here... in theory. But there is nothing stopping Hawk from crossing the border if he gets whiff of our scent, a thought that haunts me every night. Of course, his crossing would be hard to do legally—another plus for Canada. Convicted US felons need special permissions from the minister himself before they can gain entry, and that process takes at least a year.

  O
n the other hand, Canada’s border is huge and has plenty of wooded coverage—Hawk’s specialty. It’s because of that little tidbit of information that I can’t stop myself from constantly looking over my shoulder every time I step foot out of the door. I always feel like I’m being watched. Hawk was an impeccable hunter in high school. It’s all he ever wanted to do. And tracking—that was his forte. He had a way of sniffing out his prey.

  Since we moved, dragging Ma with us, I’ve kept up close contact with Kari back in New Hampshire. She was heartbroken when we decided to move, but there was no convincing her to come with us. Hawk wasn’t gonna scare her out of her own home. She has her BB gun stuffed under her pillow, though, on the off chance he ever shows up. Like a BB gun would stop Hawk. I don’t tell her that, though, because I don’t want to worry her. According to Kari, she hasn’t seen or heard about Hawk since his release. She thinks he’s moved on. Time will tell.

  I actually miss Kari. We got off on the wrong foot, but during Jada’s pregnancy, Kari was a constant comfort to us both. Although she had no kids of her own, she fawned over Jada and soothed her fears about motherhood. For that, I owe Kari a great debt. Her kindness to us during that time won’t soon be forgotten. She’s also been keeping an eye out on the people renting Ma’s place. She’s been a real blessing to us.

  She was actually the one thing we hated about moving. We wanted to scoop her up and drag her off too, like we were doing with Ma, but she was stubborn and wouldn’t be swayed. Webster was her home, she said. She was going to live out her last days there. So it was with a heavy heart that we left a few months after Janelle’s first birthday.

  We’ve only been back to Webster once since we moved into Canada. Ma had requested to be buried in the Webster Cemetery in her will.

  We were all devastated when she passed away unexpectedly in her sleep a few months ago. Well, everyone except for Janelle. She had whispered to me the night before Ma died that angels were coming for Grammy.

  I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but when I walked into Ma’s room to bring in her morning tea, I knew she was gone. Janelle was cuddled up on a quilt Kari had made us as a going-away gift. Janelle was holding her hand, whispering to her Grammy that she was going to love flying up in heaven.

  All during her funeral, I was a mess. She had just retired and begun her role as a full-time grandmother, a role she never thought she’d get to play. She never thought she’d have children of her own, let alone grandchildren. I wasn’t supposed to live long enough to give her any.

  It was Janelle who got me through that terrible day. She held my hand and said, “Grammy is happy, Papa. Don’t cry.”

  I can’t fight the feeling that Janelle knows more than she should for a toddler. It’s almost as if she can see things before they happen. It’s kinda creepy sometimes.

  “I’m off to work now,” Jada says, sneaking a kiss from behind me. I jump, surprised that I didn’t hear her come down the stairs. She unplugs her e-port from the charging dock on the kitchen counter and slides it into her bag. It’s the latest model, the kind with the slide out screen and keyboard. It’s half the size of her other one. They call it “The Bookmark” ‘cause it’s about the size of old-school bookmarks. I have the older version. No pull out screen. Nowhere near as cool, but I wanted Jada to have the best if she was the one working. She hates the thing, but she carries it with her whenever she leaves the house to put my mind at ease.

  “No, don’t go yet,” I say, putting down my cereal spoon and pulling her into my arms. I nuzzle myself into her golden hair and breathe in her intoxicating scent. Her skin against mine burns its familiar heat straight into my heart—rejuvenating me. The weekend wasn’t long enough with her. It never is. No amount of time will ever be enough. Ever.

  My lips find hers automatically. We fit together perfectly, like two halves of a whole. I melt into her kiss, tangling my fingers into her hair, pulling her closer. I just want to hold her and never let her go. It hurts too much when I do.

  “Mmmm,” she purrs, pulling away a bit and licking her lips. She knows I love it when she does that, so I pull her in for another round.

  “You’re making it really hard to leave,” she pants between kisses.

  “Then don’t,” I counter, lifting an eyebrow.

  She lets out a small sigh and pushes fully away from me. A frown brushes her soft-pink lips. “I’m not going to stay inside forever just because he’s out of prison, you know.”

  Her words pierce me because she sees right through me. I do wish I could keep her hidden, safe in my arms. Is it so wrong that I want to keep her pressed against me forever and never leave these semi-safe walls? I struggle with this maddening desire every time she leaves, but the realist in me knows she’s right. She needs to work. We need the money.

  Since my doc won’t sign my work permit until I’ve been asthma free for a year under his care, Jada has been the one forced to bring in all of our meager income. I have one more month before he’ll sign it and then I’ll be allowed to pitch in. Not that I don’t love being a full-time dad, because I do, I just hate that I’m not able to do more for our family.

  As it is, we live paycheck to paycheck. After Ma’s will went through probate, all that remained was a few thousand dollars, just enough to move us here. The sale of her estate ended up paying for my insane medical bills she’d put in her name. The rest just barely covered her funeral. It killed me selling her house to the bank, but they told me they would let me know if an offer was made on her house so I could try to buy it back, but so far, we’ve not been able to save anything up for it. It’s not like we could ever move back into the house now that Hawk is out, but something about someone else living there makes me sick. That’s my house.

  Jada slumps her shoulders. She’s upset with the situation I’m putting her in. I can’t keep making her feel like she’s trapped here. I need to let go and trust that everything will be okay.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, hugging her from behind. I feel her heart quicken at my touch. I love that I still have that effect on her. “I’m a jerk. Go. Scan books. Make money.” I kiss the side of her face as it crinkles into a smile.

  “I love you,” she says.

  “I love you more.” I spin her around and kiss her gently on the nose.

  “Give Janelle another hug for me when she wakes up, okay?” She frowns again. “I hate that she sleeps so late.”

  “She gets her night owl tendencies from you, you realize?” I counter.

  She laughs at me. “I know.”

  I get one last kiss out of her before she heads for the door. “I’ll see you tonight.” She beams at me. “Indian night!”

  “Extra curry!” I sing back as she closes the door. Janelle loves Indian food. A strange thing for a kid to like, but she loves it—the spicier the better. There’s a lot about my daughter that amazes me; her distinct taste in food is only the surface of it. I’m sure most parents think their child is unique, but she just seems so much more mature than other children her age. Her sentences are almost complete the majority of the time, and her kindness to strangers is uncanny. And she never shows any fear. It’s like she instinctively knows that everything is going to be okay.

  Sighing, I walk over to our front door and slip the deadbolt in place, wishing I had my daughter’s sense of optimism.

  Jada

  I put on a brave face as I leave the apartment. Tobias can’t see the fear that dances there. He’s worrying enough for the both of us. The last thing I want to do is give off any vibe to him or Janelle that anything is wrong.

  Since the elevator is out, again, I take the steps two at a time, suddenly feeling the need to get some fresh air onto my skin. A cold sweat breaks out on my flesh every time I leave Tobias; it’s like my body rebels against his departure. It’s almost as though I’m afraid to leave him—afraid I won’t come back. I can’t help but wonder how many days will have to pass until this fear goes away? Will it ever? Or will I always be this on edg
e?

  Grasping tightly to the railing, I make my way down the concrete stairs. When I get to the bottom, I rest my head against the coolness of the stone and take a few steadying breaths. After a moment, I enter the lobby and push open the front door and head outside.

  I have to plant a smile on my face because I know Tobias will be looking out our window to see me cross the street and I need to keep up appearances until I hit the darkness of the subway stairs. If he even suspected I felt as worried as I am, he’d probably never let me leave the house again! As it is, it’s taken him a good year to feel comfortable with me getting a full-time job. Of course, the fact that our bank account was getting smaller and smaller by the day may have something to do with it. We managed to live on next to nothing with my part-time job at McDonalds, but we just couldn’t live off it any longer. Our bills were mounting. I had to find full-time work.

  I am beyond grateful that I’ve been able to land my current job as an Archive Librarian Assistant for Dawson College. The job pays well considering I don’t have an actual degree. I think the only reason I was chosen is because I was the only applicant who’d actually read a bound book before; and that was sort of a pretty critical part of the work. The job requires me to scan old bound texts into digital format so the information can be saved before the books are turned into toilet paper. It’s me in a room filled with banker boxes of books and a scanner wand. Most people would probably hate the sort of isolation that comes with the job, but not me. To me, being in a room full of books is heaven. I’m lucky, too, that Dawson is still up and running. Many of the universities in the US and Canada declared bankruptcy after the Depression of 2022.

  The hardest part of my day, ironically, is when I’ve scanned the last page of a book. It hurts me to put it down the recycle chute. Each time I do it, it feels like we’re throwing away a piece of our history.

  Every now and then, they’ll tell me to keep a book after scanning. Those precious few are placed in the university’s archive floor, but those are mostly dull historical journals. The vast majority of books I scan are what people used to call “mass market paperbacks.” Apparently there used to be a time when literally thousands of copies of one book were printed in paper format. The very idea of it is unheard of with the paper shortage as it is now.