by C. L. Stacey
The unconscious part makes things so much worse.
“I texted her after my shower to let her in on—” she stops midsentence, her mouth agape. “Oh, my—seriously?” she spits when Harper sends another. “You hit someone?” Her eyes, now wide with horror, shoot right up to mine.
I snatch the phone from her hands. “How about we not do any light reading right now?”
“Jackson, I can’t believe you—”
“Hit someone?” I complete her thought. “Really? He was going to take you, Lexi. He’s lucky that’s all I did!” I shout, startling her with the sudden harshness in my tone.
She snatches her phone back from me. “I want to kill him, too! Don’t yell at me!” she shouts back. “But this looks bad, Jackson. You’re a man with a reputation to uphold. You can’t go around smashing people’s faces in!”
“I can when they endanger the people I care about,” I argue back.
It’s enough to silence her, her eyes blinking back at me again. “You knew this was out there, didn’t you?” she says, her tone accusing me. I say nothing, and my lack of response serves her with just enough. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You’ve dealt with enough, you don’t need to deal with this, too.”
She waves her phone in the air. “You didn’t think I’d eventually find out about it?”
“I mean, I did, but I didn’t want to be the one to tell you. You need to be as relaxed as possible today, and that means not inducing more unnecessary stress.”
“So you decided to piggyback my problems instead? How’s that supposed to make me feel any better, Jackson? This is bad for your brand!” Her eyes drop to the phone again, swiping her thumb across the screen from picture to picture, only torturing herself further.
I snatch the phone from her, holding it further away when she tries to snatch it back. “Quit torturing yourself with this shit, Lexi. It’s unhealthy.”
“Give it back!” Lexi reaches over me, unintentionally shoving her chest in my face.
When I feel my control over the situation begin to slip, I wrap my other arm loosely around her waist and get up on my knees, dropping her onto her back.
The phone begins to ring in my hand, drawing my attention to the screen, and I grab Lexi by the wrist when she makes another attempt at snatching it from me. “Stop.”
“It’s my phone, Jackson, give it back!” she growls. “What if it’s my parents?”
“It’s not.” I leave her on the couch and take a few steps back to answer it, my jaw clenching tightly together before speaking to the person on the other end. “Seriously, Caleb?”
“Jesus,” he whispers, his tone just shy of a laugh. “You’ve confiscated her phone? Are you serious, Jackson?”
“It’s Caleb?” Lexi asks, getting off the couch to get to me. “Give me.” She holds out her hand.
I cover the mouthpiece. “Lexi, I’m on the phone,” I say in a way that makes her come off as rude.
“My phone,” she corrects me.
“What do you want, Caleb?” I ask, holding out my arm to keep Lexi at bay.
“Well, I was calling to check on my friend, Jackson. Is that some sort of crime?” he quips.
A childish side I wasn’t aware I had comes out when I answer him. “Yes.” And he laughs.
“Give it back!” Lexi stomps her foot against the floor to add that extra oomph to her command.
The front door suddenly opens, and in comes Harper with a guy I recognize as Nick in tow. “LEXI WAS DRUGGED?”
“Gotta go, won’t call back later,” I say into the phone then hang up immediately.
Lexi steps in between us, acting as a shield to protect me. “Harp, calm down—”
Harper holds a finger out to Lexi, signaling for her to stay quiet. “She was drugged?” she asks me again.
“My name’s Nick. Nick Johnson,” her fiancé confirms what I already know, squeezing in an introduction with an extended hand. I take it, and he begins to shake it firmly. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Anderson. Really.” He continues to shake. “I’m a fan of your… life.”
Weird.
“I’m a friend of Lexi’s, Nick. Please call me Jackson,” I exchange his warm greeting with one of my own then return my attention to Harper. “In answer to your question: Yes, unfortunately, she was, but I was there to intercept her before anything else could happen. I didn’t tell you this morning because I felt it was more appropriate if Lexi were alone when first finding out about it. She had no memory of what happened last night, and I didn’t want your overreaction to eclipse her chances to react at all. I didn’t want her to have to take care of you when she’s the one who should be taken care of.”
“See, babe.” Nick nudges her with his elbow. “No harm, no foul.”
When Harper can’t find a good enough argument against the one I’d just made, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, staring at me like she’s trying to decide something about me. “Are you a good guy, Jackson?”
I really don’t know how to answer that.
“Harper, what kind of question is that?” Lexi interjects, coming to my defense.
“A fair one,” Harper answers.
“I don’t know how to answer that, Harper,” I answer honestly. “But I can promise you that I’m not trying to be a bad one to your friend.”
“Good.” She stands up straighter, the tight features on her face now smoothing over. “Do you remember what I promised you earlier this afternoon if you were to ever mistreat my sister?”
Sister.
The extent to which Harper loves Lexi puts my mind at ease. I think I can really learn to like her. I know that I can definitely trust her.
I nod. “Of course I do, I’ll never forget. No one’s ever threatened me with one of those before.”
Harper nods back, and now we’re in agreement. Everyone be nice to Lexi. “Then we’re good,” she says. Then she directs her next question to all of us. “Anyone hungry?”
All four us came to a unanimous decision: Drago’s for some Italian.
I was worried about showing our faces so soon after what happened the night before, but Jackson made a good case against my idea to just stay in.
“If they’re coming after us, they’ll get to us eventually…”
“Staying in on a Sunday won’t change the fact that they’ll still have questions for us first thing on Monday…”
Two excellent points.
In the last almost twenty-four hours, I’ve noticed some differences in Jackson. Differences that make him seem like another person entirely. He’s spent most of his time avoiding public scenes, but he’s displayed nothing but kindness when meeting my friends, and now we’re out to dinner, the four of us, breaking bread together in the middle of a very crowded restaurant.
When the waiter comes, Jackson orders lasagna for me. He flashes me the most genuine smile when Harper begins laughing her ass off from across the table.
A small laugh bubbles up my throat when Jackson lifts his hand to trace the shape of a check mark in the air.
And he jokes around with me.
While Jackson places his order with our waiter, I sit back and admire my two lovebirds with a smile. They’re sitting close together, conversing softly back and forth—about the wedding, of course. I can hear Harper talking to Nick about how she almost tore out the florist’s hair for decorating her bouquet with the wrong colored roses.
It’s difficult to make out their entire conversation, but I hear, “Tacky instead of elegant…” and I can’t help but chuckle to myself.
“What’s so funny?” Jackson follows my gaze across the table.
“My friend is so freaking adorable, isn’t she?”
“I find her kind of frightening,” he answers.
My head knocks back with the laugh that bursts from my lips. “No.” I wave his false perception of Harper right off. “She’s a little feisty, I’ll admit, but she’s just a girl who knows what she wants.” I shrug.<
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The waiter begins to take their order. Both Harper and Nick are perfectly polite during the entire exchange, respectful when speaking to the young man.
“She’s very protective of you,” he points out. “I like that very much about her.”
That puts an honest smile on my face. “We’re very careful of who we let in. It’s always been that way since we were kids. But when we do, we cherish them, we’re loyal to them, and we love them fiercely. They become a part of our little family.”
He regards me with a sad smile. “Have I missed my chance at that completely?”
My brows draw inward when I turn toward him, exchanging my smile for a frown. “You know I’m not actually mad at you, don’t you?” I shut my menu and hand it to the waiter with a smile when he comes back around to collect it.
Jackson hands his over, but his gaze remains fixed on mine. “It doesn’t change the fact that I was a bad friend to you this past month. I’d like to make-up for that, if you let me?”
“Um,” I laugh. “You saved me from a pair of douchebags last night, I think we’re good.”
The mention of the incident darkens the light in his eyes a little bit, replacing it with guilt. “If I hadn’t deserted you, you wouldn’t have been out with Caleb in the first place.”
“Oh, Jackson…” I sigh, shaking my head at him. “That’s not even… Don’t do that. Going out with Caleb was a choice I made for me, to broaden my horizons a bit. The guy is just full of lighthearted fun, and I felt, quite strongly, that I needed more of that in my life right now.”
“What do you mean?”
I open my mouth to explain, but I have no idea where to start. My eyes drop to the spot on the table in front of me, and I wait for the words to come, but they just don’t.
“Hello, over there!” Harper calls, and we both turn to glance in her direction. “Hi, remember me?”
We offer an apologetic smile for our rudeness, and Jackson starts a new conversation that includes all four of us. He makes the effort to get to know Harper and Nick with questions about their relationship and how they came to be.
The remainder of our time at dinner is a lot less heavy, more genuine and carefree.
It’s the first time in a while where I feel… normal.
“What do you like about me?”
It’s an odd question to ask while in the middle of a slasher film, so I sit back and look at her funny. “I’m sorry,” I laugh. “At what point during the running away screaming, getting stabbed and pushed out windows did you think to ask that?”
Ellie giggles, snuggling in closer until her head’s resting against my shoulder. “I’m serious, I wanna know why you like me.”
“I don’t like you,” I say. She frowns. “I love you.”
“But why?”
“I didn’t think I needed a reason.”
“You don’t need one. But everyone has one. I wanna know yours.”
“Well,” I sigh, my eyes landing back to the TV. “You’re hot, so that helps.” I chuckle when she rips her hand from my chest on a frustrated growl.
“Jackson, will you please be serious, for once!”
I drop my head against the back of the couch. “I love you, Ellie. I love everything about you. What else is there to say?”
“You suck with words!” she says before stomping off.
“Does this mean make-up sex?” I call after her.
She answers with a door-slam.
If I were more sensitive and more expressive of my feelings for her, maybe she’d still be here. She always did mention how I seemed closed off emotionally, and she was right. I was never the kind of man to communicate his feelings so freely.
Not a day goes by where I don’t blame myself for her walking out the door that night.
I’d go looking for her now if I knew where to find her…
I stare aimlessly out the glass walls of my office, feeling an empty hollowness in my chest where my heart should be.
“Why’d you leave, Ells?” I whisper. “Why couldn’t you just stay with me?”
Someone comes bursting into my office, followed by Lea’s frantic pleas for them to wait outside.
I turn around to bring myself face-to-face with a seething Brad, hands planted flat against my desk, practically foaming from the mouth like a rabid dog.
“Mr. Anderson, I tried—”
“It’s alright, Lea.” I wave my hand up to her. “Give us a few minutes, please.”
After first shooting a distasteful glance Brad’s way, Lea gives an obedient bow of her head before closing the door on her way out.
We are at a standoff. My face remains emotionless while his displays too much. “What can I do for you today, Bradley?” I ask, my tone uncaring and uninterested.
“I’ve left messages since Monday.”
“I’ve heard them,” I acknowledge the statement with a dismissive reply.
“It is Thursday, and you’ve returned none.”
“I’m aware.” I step up to my desk, bringing myself closer to him.
“Why not?” he snaps at me.
For someone who possesses no right or authority to question my decisions, he displays such bravery. I’ve given him a second chance, and that’s plenty more than what I offer to anyone.
“What business do we have left to discuss? I’ve fired you, Mr. Davis. You’re done here.”
He has the audacity to appear stunned by my decision to cut him loose. “You can’t be serious. Fired? I’ve devoted my time, my loyalty to you these past six years!” he roars. “I’ve been with you since the beginning. I was there for you when you lost everything. I helped you rebuild!”
I stand silent and motionless as I stare back at him, offering him nothing.
His eyes look crazed, strung-out, as they burn into mine. He’s waiting for some sort of response from me, but there’s nothing left to say. I went against my better judgment, making the mistake of believing that I owed him a second chance. He wasted it to get wasted, and I just don’t have any more time to waste on him. I have no use for him anymore. He’s a risk, so I did the sensible thing and cut my losses.
“I’d take a moment to reconsider,” he says. I don’t, my decision is final. “Don’t sit there and assume I don’t know about you and that bitch! I’ve seen your pictures splashed all over the goddamn place, Jackson! I don’t think Lexi Moore would react too kindly if I were to reveal the truth to her about who you really are,” he threatens me.
There’s nothing else I’d love more than to reach across this desk and beat him senseless for bringing Lexi into this, but I force myself to refrain. Instead, I reach into my bottom drawer to pull out an envelope given to me by Daniel.
“What are those?”
I don’t answer him as I lay the photographs out, one by one, for him to see.
Brad with his dealer, cash and drugs exchanging hands.
Brad with women, none of whom are his wife.
Brad with his many distractions, the ones that kept him from his work, and family, these past few months.
Brad’s carelessness.
Brad’s disgracefulness.
Brad’s indiscretions.
Brad’s lies.
I spread them out, far and wide, and I watch the fear growing in his eyes as I plant my hands against the desk, leveling myself with him. “You listen to me…” I bring my face closer, isolating any chance for him to miss what comes next. “If you so much as breathe her name to me again, I will bury you. Do we have an understanding?”
“You’ve hired someone to surveil me, are you insane? Carrie will pack up the kids and leave. I will lose everything!”
My hands lift before slamming down hard against the desk, rattling everything around. “DO WE HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING?!” I roar.
His jaw tightens, the fire in his eyes intensifying with my threat. “You sure you want to go down this road, Jackson?”
“Are you?”
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t say anything.
He doesn’t move.
“Remove yourself from my office, Bradley. Don’t show your face here ever again.”
The door slams behind him when he takes his leave, and I stand exactly where I am until I’m sure he’s gone.
My vision of the room blurs, blinded by my rage, and I lift my hands to step away from my desk.
My hands are trembling as my eyes scan every surface of the office, searching for something to relieve their aching need to make contact with anything, everything.
It’s happening again… I feel it brewing deep within me. The rage and powerlessness following my failure to protect the person I care about.
I wanted to protect Lexi from the truth. I’ve been putting it off for so long…
My emotions consume me, one after the other, piling onto me, attacking me all at once. It eats away at me, paralyzing me, then I feel the pull of that emotional trigger go off inside my chest, and I feel all control slip through the cracks.
I knock everything off my desk, unable to contain it any longer. It feels too good to stop there, so I keep going until I’ve destroyed everything in my path. When knocking and flipping things over no longer satisfies the ache I begin punching at the walls until my fist breaks through.
“Jackson!” I hear her voice come from somewhere behind me, but I keep going. “Jackson, what are you doing?” her voice comes again, breaking through to me this time.
I finally stop.
My chest is puffing in and out with each breath I struggle to take, and I turn in the direction of her voice. She looks terrified. I take a step in her direction, stopping when I feel too dizzy to take another. “Lexi,” I breathe her name, holding a hand out to steady myself against my desk.
She sets her things down on the conference table and rushes toward me, catching me before I collapse, then she does her best to help ease me gently to the floor. “Jackson, my God, what’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong so I can help you. What happened?” she pleads with me.
I lean all my weight against the front of my desk, counting on its support as I try to get my breathing under control. But I can’t. My eyes brim with tears as I fight to collect enough air in my lungs, but I’m failing.
