Mister Distraction (Distraction #2)

by Stephanie Jean

  “Jason, I miss Jacy a lot. Do you miss her?” I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that no good could come from this conversation.

  “Yes, Jenny, I do.” I felt her roll over, her warm breath on my neck.

  “I could be her.” She was silent for a long moment. “If you want, I could be just like her.” That was the most bizarre thing I had ever heard.

  “You can’t be her, Jenny. She’s dead. No one can be her.” She sighed and I got a whiff of her minty breath.

  “Do you want to kiss me? You can. Close your eyes and…well, I have her same lips. You could pretend.” My eyes shot open at the word pretend.

  “I am really sick of pretending, Jenny.” I turned my head, focused on her lips, and remembered how much I liked to kiss Jacy. That was the reason I’d refused to kiss anyone else for the last nine years. I didn’t want to taint those memories. Jenny’s lips were full, and they appeared soft, but I wasn’t going to kiss her.

  “Jenny, I loved your sister, and when she died she took a piece of me with her. I am not the same man. I might look and sound the same, but everything on the inside has changed. If Jacy was still here, she wouldn’t like who I have become.” I sighed, tired of talking and listening. “Jenny, it’s not going to happen for us.” I closed my eyes and she continued to breathe on my neck.

  “Why not? We like the same things; my parents adore you. I can make you happy.” The whole thing sounded incredibly desperate.

  “I have a girlfriend, and I care for her, a lot.” She leaned in closer and inhaled right against my jaw. I opened my eyes and turned towards her again.

  “She basically pushed you into my arms, Jason. She walked you to the door and turned her back on you. I could never do that, would never let you leave with a pretty woman.” I looked into her eyes and saw longing and passion, but I closed my eyes again and let my head turn towards the ceiling of the barn.

  “She’s not you, Jenny. Her trust in me is something far greater than anyone else’s, including Jacy’s. Katarina knows how much I care for her. She trusts in it.” She was quiet after that, and for some reason, when I said those words out loud, they calmed me, and I dozed off.

  When I woke, Jenny’s body was pressed up against mine, her leg thrown over me.

  “Jenny, wake up.” I repeated my words over and over. She woke and continued to stretch and yawn. Her sleepy eyes resembled her older sister’s so much that it was like I was speaking to Jacy.

  “Goodbye,” I said in a quiet voice, feeling for the first time in years like I got closure. Sadness crept into my face, and I felt my eyes get moist. She was too busy trying to find her shoes to notice. I walked her to the house and drove back home.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I entered my quiet place, cursing under my breath that the home alarm wasn’t set and the front door was unlocked. Katarina lay on the couch in a white, silk nightgown, my favorite one. I scooped her up in my arms and scaled the stairs. She felt great in my arms, and her clean scent sent dirty thoughts to my brain. I couldn’t smell my scent on her, and my mind raced to the many ways I could make her dirty again. I laid her on the bed and slipped into the shower.

  I crawled into bed exhausted. My head hit the pillow, and I started to fall asleep immediately. Katarina’s voice woke me. “Did you deliver a baby horse tonight?”

  “No, just did a lot of monitoring, making sure she was healthy.”

  “She?” Her voice was annoyed and I had to wonder, was Katarina jealous? I rolled onto my side, but it was too dark and my eyes way too heavy-lidded to see her.

  “The horse. Jenny is going to vet school, and she asked a lot of questions.” My voice trailed off and that was all I remembered.

  In the morning, my eyes flew open, checking my bed for Katarina, but she wasn’t there. A feeling of loss took over my thoughts. I went to the bathroom, dreading the journey downstairs, knowing my beauty was gone. Bo greeted me at the bottom of the stairs, trailing behind me as I stepped out into the garage to feed him. I was pleasantly surprised to hear Katarina in the kitchen. She was making breakfast. I took my seat at the counter facing the kitchen and watched her closely. Her shorts and sweatshirt told me she had been awake for a while, and I guessed she had taken a jog around the lake. Her bare feet gave me warm pleasure in my pajama pants—something about the sight of her naked feet on the hardwood. Maybe it was the idea of having her both barefoot and pregnant that gave me a boner. Her demeanor was defeated and tired, her shoulders not as square as they usually were, her back slightly rounded. She turned and walked straight for me, but never looked up. I smiled at the fact that she was upset with me. That was better than indifferent, right? My appetite was suddenly back, and I dug into my meal, interested to see where this was going. She plucked a yogurt from the fridge and took her seat on the stool next to mine.

  “What do you want to do today?” I asked, and watched as she glanced around trying to pull off a nonchalant attitude, but I wasn’t buying it. I grinned, but it fell when she shrugged. She fucking shrugged like it didn’t matter. My anger grew instantly at that tiny, blasé movement.

  I gritted my teeth. “How about we have a barbecue and invite my family over?” She tipped her chin and glanced at me, and I could see conflicting emotions cross her face. Then to completely give me a mind-fuck, she shrugged again.

  My hand twitched. She needed to be disciplined for provoking me, but I knew too much about her past and it messed with my head. She was fucking with me, and I was letting her, and it was killing me.

  “Are we going to talk about last night?” she said in a clear, confident voice. I felt like a cartoon character with smoke coming out of its ears. I was way too angry to talk, and her face held a smug smile, which pissed me off even more.

  “What part? The ‘I love you’ part or ‘me leaving you all night’ part.” It was mean, and I was officially the biggest asshole she’d ever loved, but fuck if she didn’t provoke me. I needed to remind her she was in just as deep as I was, except I hadn’t verbally expressed my love yet.

  That was it. My short-term mission was accomplished. She was irritated and frustrated, and as pissed off as I was. She slipped off her stool and stomped over to the sink, deposited her dishes, and disappeared upstairs without a word. I was sure she was regretting the “I love you” statement, and I cursed myself.

  I pulled out my phone and sent a group text to my family, knowing they were at church.

  Jason: BBQ at my house at 4. Everyone bring a side or dessert. C U then.

  I received a text back right away saying that everyone would be here. I got off the stool, rinsed the dishes in the sink, and put them in the dishwasher before I headed upstairs. I didn’t know what my next move was with her. Everything was too exposed between us, and I knew I needed a break from it. I figured she probably needed the same thing. I had a mental talk with myself to not bring up anything about last night. I needed it to settle before we approached the topics again. I treaded up the stairs thinking about Jenny’s appearance last night, and how I was going to have to explain everything.

  I pushed the door to my room open slowly. Katarina rarely closed doors, and I was allowing her a second before I barged in. She was getting off the bed as I entered. I ignored the tension, which was thick between us, and walked over to the closet to grab my shoes. She had her shoes on, and I glanced at her as I brushed past; the tormented look on her face was heartbreakingly scary. My heart started to pound in my chest. I knew I was losing her. I knew if I didn’t show her how I felt, she would leave.

  “So I called everyone, and they will be here at four-ish. Are you going to the store with me?” I took a seat on the edge of the bed, busying myself with my shoes, focusing all my attention on my Nikes. I didn’t want to see her lifeless eyes, the eyes that told me nothing helpful, just made me struggle for breath.

  “Okay, I’ll go, but I am not in a talkative mood.” Her voice rattled around in my brain. She was sad and it was all my fault.

  “Come here,
” I whispered and held my hand out. I wanted her to run into my arms, but she didn’t. She didn’t even hear me. She was in her own little bubble, and I wasn’t invited in. I lurched forward and scooped her up in my arms, holding her close. She struggled, pushing me away, and parts of my heart started breaking. She wouldn’t leave me and think for a second I didn’t love her. I gently laid her on the bed, sliding in behind her and wrapping my arms around her. She finally relented to me and relaxed. I heard her start to cry; it was a silent cry at first, and then I heard the whimpers and the hiccupping sounds that indicated she was breaking on the inside. The sound was torture. “Shh,” I said in her ear, trying and failing to comfort her. My arms squeezed in response, and I attempted with all my might to keep her from falling apart. It was a silent reminder I was here and she had me. Her whole body trembled as she cried, and I felt horrible for not telling her how much I truly loved her. I buried my nose in her hair, scared that this was the only warning I was going to get before she disappeared. I closed my eyes tightly and held her close for a long time, enjoying the feel of her body against mine in this secure embrace. I wanted to tell her she was mine, remind her, but I couldn’t find the right words. I sat up, pulling her body with me. She wiped her eyes and offered me a comforting smile, which was ironic that she was trying to comfort me.

  “Let’s go.” I slipped my fingers through hers, the delicate skin sliding together giving me chills as I led her downstairs. I suggested we take her car, which was just like everything else in her possession—spotless. She put the top down and got in, not the least bit concerned with my fast driving. It was funny how people picked cars that expressed their personalities. My Jeep was big and always dirty from off-road use, so it told people I was rough and liked it dirty. Katarina’s car had sleek lines, and was built for speed and comfort. It was similar to her body and personality; it begged me to take control while I glided down the highway. The seat molded perfectly to my body, and I think I even heard the purr of the engine encouraging me to master her. I was quite amazed at how much I enjoyed controlling her vehicle. I glanced at her a few times and was relieved that the signs of sorrow had left her eyes. Her long black hair swirled with the wind and she reached up with her hands and tied it into a practiced bun. I got a vision of my dancing princess. She watched me the entire drive and I loved it. All these months, she’s been my obsession, the thing I wanted to watch every hour of every day. It was my turn to be that for her.

  “You have a wonderful dog; I have an awesome car.” Her voice was crisp and clear, and I had to smile. I think she just called my dog a top of the line Mercedes. She turned on the music after that, and I gave her what she wanted. I sang to her. I knew she liked it; her eyes changed colors when I glanced again. They were a lighter blue and very youthful.

  At the grocery store, I helped her out of the car and she anchored herself on the belt loop of my jeans. I pushed the cart, attempting to divert her attention with my charismatic personality. I had to dig deep; it had been a decade since I had to woo a woman and make her completely helpless to my charm.

  I hit the meat department first and grabbed the hamburger. I noticed when I stepped away she would look around, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was planning her escape.

  “Seriously, Katarina, feel my meat.” Her eyes widened and she gave me a questioning look.

  “It’s soft, but later today it’ll be hard.” She giggled and I tugged on her hair. I continued throwing food in the cart. My princess didn’t want to touch anything other than my belt loop.

  “Those people over there are having a love affair.” I pointed to a man and a woman who looked about forty, both out of shape and arguing over which ice cream to buy. “Did you hear what he just said?” I whispered. She glanced at me, her beautiful eyes making me forget what I was saying for a split second. “He said it’s over if she doesn’t pick Rocky Road. She wants straight vanilla, but he told her vanilla sucks.” Katarina smiled as we walked past, and when the guy actually said, “Why do you always want vanilla?” she burst out into laughter. I tried it again with a guy molesting the fruit. “He’s lonely, and he needs to pick the right peaches to fill a void.” We both watched the guy as he held the fruit up to his nose, then squeezed it and whispered something to it. She giggled again when he rubbed the chosen fruit against his face. I made up little things all through the store, and she rewarded me with smiling faces and giggles. At the checkout, I recognized the clerk. He was a regular at the gym I went to. I nodded and read his nametag.

  “Hey, Adam.” He smiled at me and took that as an invitation to talk non-stop while he scanned the groceries. I listened to his story and contributed when he asked questions, but my only real focus was on Katarina. I winked at her while he talked, and she gave me her shy grin. I love that grin. We left the store and she spoke for the first time since the car ride.

  “You knew him?” She squinted from the sun when she said it.

  “Yeah, but you know what they say about Adams, right?” I asked, and her attention was all on me. She held her hand over her face to block the sun while I loaded the groceries into her tiny trunk, but her eyes never left me as she awaited my answer.

  “You never trust atoms. They make up everything.” It took a second, and then she giggled, grabbing her stomach. Yep. I’d stolen the joke from my seventh grade biology teacher. I never thought it was funny, but Katarina was different, and her ability to laugh at the corniest jokes made me adore her more.

  We got back to the house, I carried in all the bags of groceries, and she disappeared. I put everything away and went on a search to find her. In my mind, she was suddenly so fragile, and I couldn’t get her crying out of my head. I entered the room slowly, not sure what to expect, and there she was, curled up in a ball fast asleep. The vision made me angry with myself for not just staying here last night so we could both sleep. I laid down next to her, sliding my arms around her and holding her close. I buried my nose in her hair. My eyelids were so heavy, and my muscles immediately relaxed into the mattress. I was so tired. This beauty had me waking constantly during the night just to make sure she was still here. That and the lack of sleep last night had me completely exhausted. Everything between us was on shaky ground, and although I was relaxed with her body molded into mine, uneasiness haunted me.

  My dream was so vivid it was like I was reliving the night Jacy died. I stayed after the performance that night and watched from a distance as Katarina and her grandfather talked. She nodded at his words and I thought I saw a tiny smile before he left. I trailed her black limo home that night. She lived behind a gated driveway. So once the vehicle disappeared, she was gone. I sat in the car, sweat dripping from my forehead. I had nervous energy racing through me. Then I saw out of the corner of my eye a small dark figure on a bike. I whipped my car around and followed her two blocks. She pulled into the parking lot of an ice cream parlor. I parked and watched the tiny figure arrange her bike against the outside of the building. I moved quickly towards the parlor door and held it as she walked in ahead of me.

  “So what’s good here?” I asked her. Her head tilted up and I was met with large, hopeless blue eyes. “I have never been here, and you seem to know the place,” I said as she played with her black hoodie, pulling the bottom over the top portion of her jeans. Her small figure was hidden by the oversized hoodie. In fact, I would never have recognized her if I hadn’t followed her. We were almost to the front of the line when she reached her hands up and pulled the sides of her hoodie down, exposing her innocent face and her black hair. At the register, she ordered our ice cream sundaes with letter cookies on the side.

  I paid and we moved to the back of the restaurant. She took a seat at a table, and I followed her lead. The silence at the table was extremely awkward, but I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her eyes met mine and I saw my reflection. Her eyes were full of loss and heartache. Her face was expressionless. It reminded me of the main character in a scary movie, both sad and extremely fr
ightened. She glanced down, organizing her silverware, unfolding her napkin and stretching it out over her lap. Then she gave it a good smoothing with both hands. She continued the pattern of organizing her surroundings and I was mesmerized by it. The entire process was calming, even for me, until her eyes bore directly into mine and I knew she saw my pain, just like I could see hers.

  “I lost someone today.” I sounded defensive, giving her the reason for my sad eyes. She had a great poker face. There was no shock, no stunned expression. “She was my girlfriend, and I was going to marry her.” She blinked, and it was a slow blink. Her eyes shifted, but landed back on mine. “I am scared. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I can’t control anything; it’s like my world is spinning out of control.” Again, I watched as she closed her blue eyes and opened them with no expression.

  We ate our ice cream in silence, and I observed her nervous mannerisms again. I wasn’t sure if I made her nervous, or if she was by nature a nervous creature. She would glance at me occasionally, and her eyes had me paralyzed. I felt like those blue eyes were swallowing me, and when her tiny lips quirked up in the corners, I lost my ability to breathe. She finished her treats, slid off her seat, walked to the front door, and then out to her bike. I trailed behind her, grabbing my J cookie on the way out.

  “Why J? How come you picked this cookie for me?” She picked up her bike, moved towards the parking lot, and then glanced at me.

  “It’s my favorite letter.” She started to wiggle out of her large, black hoodie. Her pink undershirt lifted up in the process, and I couldn’t look away. She had purple bruises on her back, and bright red marks on her side. I flinched at the sight, and I was fixated on that area even after she covered it and securely tied the hoodie around her waist.

  She must have felt my unease because she spoke with a comforting voice. “It doesn’t hurt, J.” I locked eyes with hers, amazed at her strength. “It never did. I am numb.” I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but couldn’t.