by Nikki Chase
I’ll admit it’s partly due to pettiness. Every night, when Jessica opens the door for me, I’m annoyed that fucking Tony has her keys, while I have to knock on the door. What else has he done with my girl that I haven't? I bet they haven't fucked in the restroom of Le Grande, that's for sure.
Jessica asks, “Do you think I should see him?”
“Absolutely not. It's not safe. You don't know what he wants. But I’d bet my left nut that he already knows everything about you. You’ve been ignoring his attempts at communication so far, which is the right move. Just keep doing that. Er, I mean, not doing that.” I grin at Jessica, but she doesn't find it funny. She looks worried, slumped in her seat while staring into the woods all around us.
“Oh, and another thing. Tony’s harmless too,” I say
It takes a while for Jessica to wake up from her daze and understand what I said. She turns her head around to face me in slow motion and frown. “You looked into Tony?”
“Yeah. Did you know he has kids?”
“What the… Of course I do! And I don't need you to tell me Tony’s harmless. He's my friend! Is this why it took you so long to come up with any news? Because you’ve been investigating Tony? For fuck’s sake,” she says.
‘Friend,’ huh? Interesting choice of words.
“Tony sounds nice.” I pause while I carefully phrase my next questions. “Are his kids as cute as they seem in the pictures? Are they well-behaved?”
“Yeah. They're good kids.”
Damn it. She has met Tony’s kids. I was hoping she wouldn’t even know they existed. She called him a friend and I assumed it's a casual relationship, but maybe they're closer than I thought.
“They must make it hard for you guys to see each other much,” I say.
“It's not a big deal. Most people I know are married with children.”
“Oh, Tony's married?” My eyes flick between the road and Jessica. This is unexpected.
“Well, technically not. But they’ve been together for so long they’re practically married. Why does it even matter to you?”
“I just didn't think a married man would have the freedom to have such a close friendship with you.”
“What are you ta…” Jessica's voice trails off as she puts her hands over her mouth like she's in shock. “Oh my God. Are you… Did you think… Are you jealous of Tony?” Jessica throws her head back and laughs. “Listen, Mr. Detective, Sir. Tony is a great guy, but he's super gay. I’m surprised you didn't find out about this in your investigation.”
“Well, I stopped investigating when I learned that he's harmless.” Or, to be precise, Matt did. If it were up to me, I would've learned all there is to know about The Guy With The Keys. The gay guy with the keys, as it turns out. But Jessica doesn't need to know that. I say, “Because all that matters is your safety. I’m just trying to make small talk, that's all.”
“Bullshit. You're jealous, admit it,” she says, teasing me. She thinks this is funny?
“Okay, Jessica. I'm jealous. I don't share my things. That includes you now. You're mine.”
“Really now?” She tilts her head. “I don't remember ever agreeing to anything like that.”
“You say that, but you know you're already mine. You crave my touch.” I slide one hand from Jessica's knee up her inner thigh and smile to myself when I hear her gasp. When she exhales, her breath is loud and heavy. With both hands back on the steering wheel, I add, “it's not a sign of weakness. You can't help it. Even if you say no, you know deep inside that you belong to me now.”
Jessica remains quiet. That's okay if she needs some time to process it. Soon, she'll see that I’m right.
Besides, now I know I’m the only one fucking her. Her luscious body is mine. All that honey between her legs belongs to me. Good.
It's just a matter of time until Jessica understands that. I have time. I’m not letting her out of my sight now.
She wants to give me the silent treatment? That's fine. We have the rest of our lives for conversation.
25
Jessica
“Hey, Jessica,” says someone behind me. The voice sounds familiar. I can't quite place it, but it makes me want to start running away and pretend I didn't hear anything.
“Oh, hi, Steve.” The worst Tinder date ever. I immediately regret my decision to obey social conventions and respond when someone calls my name.
“What a coincidence. I’ve been trying to reach you,” he says as he stands a little too close to me on the sidewalk, in front of the biggest grocery store in town.
I don't think it counts as a coincidence when everybody runs into everybody else all the time here, but okay. I muster up a smile and say, “Yeah, I’ve been really busy.”
“I need to talk to you about something. It's really important.” Steve drops his voice to a low, conspiratorial tone. What could he mean?
“I, uh, I should run. I have a yoga class to catch.”
“Oh, at the Namaste Studio?”
“Yeah.” I frown. Jacob told me Steve's not dangerous, but I wonder how reliable Jacob's information is. Maybe Steve has been stalking me. “How did you know that?”
“Oh, I just dropped my mom off for the five o’clock class. The instructor’s late, by the way. Fifteen minutes. So you have no excuse.” Steve laughs nervously. “I was just sitting there in the cafe behind you when I saw you walk by. Come join me for a few minutes.”
“Oh, I don't know. I like to come early to class and reserve my spot on the floor,” I say.
“Not a problem. I’ll text my mom and ask her to save you a spot.” He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his undersized dress pants and starts typing. Without looking up, he says, “Like I said, you’ll regret not talking to me when you have the chance.”
Okay, I'm not imagining that, am I? That sounds more like he's threatening me, not asking me out on a second date. Maybe Jacob's wrong and Steve’s not harmless after all?
“Come on, we're losing precious time just standing here.” Steve pulls me inside the coffee shop with his clammy hand.
He's being pushy, like there's a lot at stake. This is not normal behavior for a guy who's asking a girl out after a mediocre first date. He could be just a creep, or he could be trying to blackmail me, thinking I’d do anything for him to not tell Stan about me. Either way, there's only one way to find out.
This coffee shop seems like as good a location as any to have a conversation. It's definitely public enough that someone would come to my rescue if I seemed to be in distress. I hope Jacob's right, I hope Steve is harmless.
“So, what's up, Steve?” I take a seat across the small table from him.
“How are you, Jessica?” Steve shifts in his chair. He looks nervous, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
“Good, Steve. How about yourself?” I smile, sitting on the edge of my seat, eager to find out what he has to say.
“Great. Never been better.” He wipes his forehead with a paper napkin. “How's your job?”
“It's good,” I say. “Thanks for asking.”
Jesus, this conversation is painful. It's decidedly underwhelming so far. It reminds me of language textbooks, like we're acting out a scene from a textbook for people learning English as a second language.
“As we discussed last time, you don't make much as a high school teacher, right?”
“Right.” Seriously, he's going to start with that?
“What if I told you there's a way for you to make a lot more money?”
There it is. I bet he's going to offer me some cash if I cooperate with him and give myself up to Stan—or to Stan’s men, most probably, since he’s still in jail now.
Maybe this is a good sign. Maybe Stan doesn't want to kill me after all. Or maybe the innocent man in front of me has no idea what Stan does to people who cross him, what Stan wants to do to me.
“Go on,” I say.
“I have something to tell you. Now, before you say anything, I ask you to please try and
keep an open mind. The plan I’m about to tell you is going to change your life, but only if you let it. Please hold your judgment. Don't let suspicion kill your chances. Trust me.” Steve looks straight into my eyes and holds my gaze. He's being serious. This is a grave matter.
“I’m listening,” I say. I'm not going to be the idiot who believes Steve won't sell me out to Stan just because he tells me to trust him. But he looks so earnest I can almost believe he has my best interests at heart.
“Many people who started out skeptical have found success with this method, so you can rest assured that it works.”
Okay, what? Many people? Does he often come across people like me, who are running away from dangerous criminals?
Have I accidentally stumbled upon a professional who could help me disappear from Stan’s radar for good? But how does me making money even factor into that?
“Steve, I don't think I understand,” I say, a frown forming on my forehead.
“You’ll understand as soon as I explain it to you. You seem like a smart girl. That's why I think you’ll make it. You’ll make it big.”
“Make what?” I'm lost.
“Make a good living for yourself,” Steve says cryptically. “Don't you want to get married, have children, and grow old?”
“Well, I haven't thought much about it.” I frown. Is he saying I’d die before I get a chance to do any of those things if I didn’t cooperate?
“When you have children, you’ll want a job that lets you spend time with your family and pays you well, right?”
“Well, of course. But I don't see how this has anything to do with—”
“Don't worry,” Steve says, cutting me off mid-sentence by pressing his cold, clammy index finger on my lips. “I have the answer to your question, the solution to your problem. But first, would you agree that everyone cares about their health?”
“Sure.” I hate the roundabout way Steve’s talking, but I get the feeling this will take less time if I just shut up and listened.
“They do, and they're willing to spend money to make sure their families are as healthy as they can be. Which is why I find it so easy to distribute Vita-ments. These babies sell themselves.”
“Sorry, vita-what?”
“Vita-ments. Vitamin supplements. I'm making thousands of dollars a month just selling them. The hours are completely flexible, so you can do it on the side while you teach, and ramp it up when you're a stay-at-home mom.”
Ah, I get it now. I’ve heard the same sales pitch before. The people are different, the products are different, but it's the same sales pitch. I'm almost ashamed I didn't realize it sooner.
“So this whole time you’ve just been trying to sign me up to your pyramid scheme?” I challenge Steve directly.
“No, Jessica. You don't understand.” Steve chuckles nervously. “It's not a pyramid scheme. There are products—good products—that we sell. A pyramid scheme doesn't have good products.”
“Look, Steve. I'm sure you mean well, but I really don't have any spare time to be spent on something like that,” I say in an attempt to let him down easy.
“That's the beauty of the system. You can put in as little, or as many, hours as you want. That's one of the big reasons why—“
“Sorry, Steve. Hold on.” I check the screen of my phone, which is ringing for real this time. It's only Christine and it's probably not important, but I can use this to get away. “I have to take this call, and our fifteen minutes is up. I’ll see you around, okay? It was great seeing you.”
Before Steve can say anything, I press the Accept Call button and bring the phone to my ear. I say “hello” as I get up and walk out the coffee shop, waving at Steve, who slumps in his chair with a miserable expression on his face.
It's not that I don't feel bad for him, but what am I supposed to do? I have my own problems to worry about.
Luckily, Christine has impeccable timing. “You’ve just saved me from a horrible date,” I say into the phone.
Christine laughs. She asks, “Are you going to the meeting this week?”
“Yes. At Sarah’s place, right?”
“That's the one. I hate to ask, but please remember to bring my casserole dish. It's my biggest one and I use it a lot.”
“Oh, of course. I'm sorry. I would've brought it to your house right away if I’d known. I never even cook at home,” I say.
“Don't worry about it. I know you have another task so I didn't want to trouble you.”
“Another task?”
“Yes, opening the door for Bertha’s repairman.”
“Right. That hardly counts as a task, Christine.”
“You remember the date and time?”
“Of course. Next Wednesday at four. Hey, I'm sorry, I have to go. My yoga class is almost starting,” I say when I reach the entrance to the studio.
“Okay, honey. See you soon, hopefully with my casserole dish,” Christine jokes before we hang up.
Ah, small towns. So weird, with their not-so-eligible bachelors and adorable old ladies. I love it here in Ashbourne, and I hope I won't have to leave any time soon.
26
Jacob
“You saw who?” I try not to raise my voice, but it's hard. All the time I spent with Jessica, all the nights I wrapped things up before the markets closed just so I could see more of her, and today she saw some asshole she’d gone on a date with.
“Steve. The guy from Tinder. We ran into each other on my way to yoga class.” Jessica hasn't realized it's bothering me. Her eyes are glued to the envelopes I’ve just retrieved from the mailbox on my way inside.
“So it wasn't planned?”
“Of course not.” She turns to look at me, a frown on her face. “And even if it was, it still wouldn't be any of your business.”
“It would be.” I step closer to Jessica and grab the envelopes in her hand. I put them aside on the dining table to get her full attention. “Like I told you before, Jessica, you're mine now.”
“And like I told you before, Jacob, I never agreed to that.” Jessica looks up and glowers at me. “I don't want to encourage your delusion, but it wasn't like that at all with Steve.”
“What was it like then? Tell me. What did you talk about?” I clench my jaw and brace myself for the answer.
“Oh, he just wanted to...ask me how I'm doing and, like, if my job is going well.” She avoids my gaze. She must be hiding something.
Gritting my teeth, I ask, “Why would you regret not seeing him?”
“He had a...business opportunity for me.” Jessica tucks her brown hair behind her ear.
“What kind of business opportunity?” I frown. Is Jessica mixed up in some illegal business? Why is she so reluctant to tell me?
“Uh, selling some supplements. I don't know. I told him I wasn't interested and left.”
“What are you saying? Why are you being so vague?” The wheels in my brain turn and suddenly everything clicks. “He didn't try to recruit you into some pyramid scheme, did he?”
Jessica doesn't have to say anything. From the way she glances at me from underneath her lashes, her cheeks reddened, I know I guessed correctly.
I burst out laughing. Loud, unstoppable laughter that cuts through the tension and fills the whole space. I don't know what's so funny, the fact that a guy would use a dating app as a tool for recruitment, or Jessica's face.
“Hey, don't laugh at network marketers,” Jessica says. “I know this girl who’s making good money doing it. It does work for some people. I just think there are many easier ways to make money.”
“That's not it,” I say. “But it doesn't matter. All I need you to know is I don't want you meeting up with strange men. It's not safe.”
“I can do whatever I want. And there's nothing you can do about it. You wouldn't even have known about my meeting with Steve if I hadn't told you.” Defiance flickers in Jessica’s green eyes.
“You can't keep a secret from me.” I stroke Jessica's hair and lean down
, taking in the vanilla scent that is quickly becoming familiar to me.
I capture her lips and kiss her with all the passion that has been building up inside me all day. I spend all my time away from Jessica thinking about spreading her legs and plunging deep inside her. It's hard to hold myself back, the way I’m so completely obsessed with her.
When I pull back, Jessica's panting and her hand grips my arm for balance. Her lips look red and wet and shiny. She looks primed and ready for me. And judging by how hard I am in my pants, I'm ready for her too. But I have a point to make.
“Tell me,” I whisper in Jessica's ear as my lips trace the curve of her earlobe. My breath is heavy from arousal. I let her hear the desire in my voice, feel the heat of my breath on her skin.”Did you meet anybody else? Any other strange man I should know about?”
Jessica replies with a moan. Her arm wraps around my neck and her hand caresses my hair.
“What's wrong?” I whisper. “Why aren't you answering? Tell me, did you meet any other strange man?”
“No,” she says as she exhales a heavy, lusty breath. The sexy noises that slip out from between Jessica's full lips make my cock pulsate painfully in my pants.
“You’d tell me if you did, wouldn't you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I like it when you're being good. Would you be a good girl for me, Jessica?”
“Yes.” She gasps as I bite the soft flesh on the side of her neck. That's going to turn into an angry mark tomorrow. Good. Maybe then men will know that she belongs to someone. She's all mine and I'm not sharing her with anyone.
“Lie down on the table for me.”
Jessica hesitates for a second, but then she climbs onto the dining table. I unzip my jeans and watch as Jessica's eyes widen.
I love that she remains in place despite the apprehension in her eyes. I pull my cock out and give it a few strokes. The lust that appears on Jessica's face is immediate and obvious. She wants this. The question is…
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” Jessica says as she looks up into my eyes and shifts her gaze toward my hard cock, letting me see her desire, letting herself be vulnerable.
