by Banks, R. R.
“Katie? Are you okay?” Jessa shouts through the door. “What's going on? Open up.”
I let out a long, shaky breath as relief floods my body. It's muffled through the thick wooden door, but it's definitely Jessa. Jessa is knocking on the front door. Not Victor. I repeat that to myself several times as I cross the room and peek out the peephole – just to be sure.
It’s Jessa. Thank god.
I quickly unbolt the door and yank it open. She comes inside, and I quickly close the door behind her, throwing all the locks and making sure the house is secure.
“I forgot my house keys,” she explains. “Are you okay? I thought I heard you screaming... And why is it so dark in here?”
I nod but don't say anything as I move to check out the windows again. I can feel Jessa's eyes on me, following me around the room. I give a start when she turns on a light, flooding the room in illumination, and I fight the urge to run over and turn it off again. I see her eyes focus on the blade in my hand.
“Umm... what's with the knife, Katie?” she finally asks.
I turn to her and feel my eyes burning with unshed tears. She crosses the room and gently takes the knife from me, setting it down on the table. I let her lead me back to the couch where she sits me down and hands me the mug of tea I'd left sitting there, barely touched. My hand is trembling so hard, I'm sloshing tea all over myself, so I just hand it back to her.
Jessa takes the mug from me and sets it down on the table. Taking both of my hands in hers, she looks me in the eye, her face etched with concern – and unspoken questions.
“What's going on, Katie?”
I look at her, drawing in a long, shuddering breath, and let it out slowly as I try to regain control of myself. As I try to slow my racing heart and clear my terrified and chaotic mind – I find that I’m not doing a very good job of it. I open my mouth to speak several times but can't force the words out of my throat. All that comes out are stuttering, choked gasps.
“It's okay,” she says, her voice soft and soothing. “Take a deep breath and take your time.”
I nod and do as she says, blowing a long breath out through my pursed lips. I close my eyes and repeat it several times. Slowly, I begin to calm down – slightly. Enough to communicate coherently, anyway.
“He found me, Jessa,” I say softly, feeling a lone tear racing down my cheek.
“Victor?” she asks.
I nod. “He called me.”
“When?” she asks, her face growing serious.
“Just a minute ago,” I reply. “Right before you got here.”
“Shit,” she says.
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
Giving my hands a gentle squeeze, she gives me a tight smile. “Tell me what he said,” she says. “All of it.”
I take a deep breath and launch into the story. I tell her everything about my conversation with Victor. As brief as it is, my story seems to go on for forever. And when I'm through, she lets out the breath she's been holding. Jessa pours herself a glass of wine and swallows half of it down before setting the glass back down on the coffee table.
“I don't know how he got your number,” she says, “but, I bet it's not too hard to track it down if you know someone good with computers. I think he got your number and is just playing head games with you.”
“He made it sound like he's going to show up any minute,” I say. “You don't know what he's capable of, Jessa. He's a monster.”
“If he was going to do that, would he call first?” she asks, a gentle smile on her face. “Would he tip you off that he knows where you are? Or, is it more likely that he would just show up and grab you one night?”
“I think he's already here, Jessa,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
I tell her about the clown outside the bar as the absolute fear of it all courses through me all over again. I open my mouth to speak, but she shakes her head and cuts me off.
“That was just Arnie Hollins,” she said. “He did that to a couple of people. Just stood there all creepy like. It was just a stupid kid, playing a stupid prank. He said he saw people doing it online and thought it would be funny.”
I look up at her, hopeful. “A – are you sure?”
She nods. “He freaked somebody out so bad, they took a shot at him,” she says. “Hit him in the leg. The last thing you want is to pull something stupid like that in a town that believes in the Second Amendment as much as Ashton Mill.”
“They shot him?”
She nods again. “Yeah,” she says. “Sheriff Keller was called, and it was a big to-do. Kid's lucky it was only his leg. He's in the hospital now, might be charged with something, I don't know.”
“S – so, it wasn't Victor,” I say, a statement, not a question.
She shakes her head. “No, it wasn't Victor,” she says. “Which brings me back to my point that he probably knows someone good with computers and was able to pull up your cell phone number. He’s just screwing with you. Don't let him get inside your head. He lived there rent-free for way too long.”
I let out a breath and pour myself a glass of wine, but it suddenly hits me that I'm pregnant, and can't be drinking anymore, so I hand the full glass to Jessa. She looks at me curiously for a moment but doesn't say anything. Hopefully, she just thinks I'm too rattled and am not thinking straight. At least she has the good graces to not question me.
Knowing that it was the Hollins kid and not Victor underneath that damn clown mask makes me feel better. A little bit, anyway. The fact that Victor has my phone number still has me rattled beyond belief.
Logically, I know Jessa is probably right. Even if Victor were in Ashton Mill, broadcasting his intentions to me wouldn't be his style. No, he would probably lay in wait, hiding in the shadows, and grab me when I least expected it. He probably wouldn't call to let me know he was coming.
Unless, he's a cocky asshole who thinks he can grab me anytime, anywhere. And what worries me most is that I know he's a cocky asshole. What I don't know though, is whether he thinks he can actually pull off a kidnapping. Whether or not he'd actually have the balls to try it. Because, if there's one thing I can guarantee, it's that I won't be taken without one hell of a fight.
But, it seems stupid now, given that it wasn't him in the clown mask but some stupid kid. It makes me feel better about the situation overall, but I'm still concerned about him tracking down my number. If he can do that, what else will he be able to do? I've done my best to leave as small of a footprint as possible, but now I'm concerned it wasn't small enough.
I sit back on the couch, feeling my stomach churning and rolling with worry. I'm well beyond scared at this point but try to focus on what's in front of me, rather than imagination and speculation.
But, even I have to admit, there's always a chance – regardless of how remote – that Jessa and I are wrong and that he knows where I am. And that he is coming for me.
“I should probably leave,” I say.
Jessa cocks her head and looks at me. “Leave? What do you mean?”
My stomach lurches harder as I look into the eyes of my best friend. “I mean, I should go somewhere else,” I say. “Far away.”
Jessa shakes her head. “What are you talking about, Kat?”
“I'm talking about leaving Ashton Mill,” I say. “Going somewhere he can't find me.”
She looks at me like I'd just grown a second head. “I don't understand.”
“If Victor knows where I am –”
“We don't know he does.”
“But, there's a chance he does,” I reply. “If he can find my phone number in some computer database, he might be able to figure out where I live too.”
She shrugs, but can't really refute the point, and says nothing. There's a chance, even if it's small. And that thought cuts me to the bone. I'm afraid not for my sake but for Jessa’s, who I love more than anybody else on this stinking planet.
“I'm afraid that if he does find out, he'll come for me,”
I say. “And if he does, the last thing I want is for you to get caught up in it. If something happened to you because of me –”
Tears roll down my cheeks, and a choked sob bursts from my throat at the mere thought that something could happen to Jessa. That Victor would do something to her to get to me. I know if anything happened to her, I couldn't bear it.
“Nothing's going to happen to me, hon,” she says gently, squeezing my hand again. “I can take care of myself. Believe me.”
“Jessa, Victor is a monster. You don't know what he's capable of.”
“And he doesn't know what I'm capable of,” she replies. “I've taken plenty of self-defense classes, and I'm very good with this...”
She stands and goes to her purse, which is sitting on the table next to the door. She reaches in and fishes out a gun. I stare at the dull pistol wide-eyed. I've never seen it before. I didn’t even know she owned a gun.
“W – where did you get that?” I ask.
“It was a gift from my mom,” she says and laughs. “You know how some of the creeps around here are. Some of them are every bit the monster Victor is. Maybe worse. My mom dated a few of them. I used to have to sit and watch her get beat right in front of me.”
She looks down, and I see her eyes are shimmering with tears. A look of absolute despair mixed with rage crosses her face as she recalls the things she's seen. I jump to my feet and rush to her, wrapping her in a tight embrace.
Taking her hand, I lead her back to the couch and sit back down. Jessa sits with the gun in her lap, staring down at it thoughtfully. Mournfully. I have no doubt that memories of her mom and the torments she'd endured – torments Jessa had to witness – are rolling through her mind. I understand. Sometimes, I can't prevent memories of what Victor did to me from popping up in my head, and know how hard it is to scrub your mind of thoughts like those.
“Anyway,” Jessa says. “After she finally got rid of the last one, she enrolled us in self-defense classes and bought me the gun. She forced me to take lessons and train with it. She said she never wanted me to feel helpless in any situation. That she wanted me to be able to stand up for myself.”
“Oh god, Jessa,” I say. “I'm so sorry. I didn't know.”
Her smile is small, fragile, and I can see hints of the terrified little girl she once was. “I’ve never told anyone about it until now,” she says. “It was just one of our family's dirty little secrets.”
She wipes away the tears that roll down her face, and all I can do is hold her hand. I feel useless. Completely powerless to do anything to comfort her. After several moments of silence, she looks up at me. I see that look of rigid, inflexible determination she gets in her eyes when she's about to be stubborn as hell.
“I still think Victor is playing mind games with you, Katie,” she says. “That call was nothing more than a weak attempt to mindfuck you. You're stronger and smarter than he is. And, you're not going to let him win.”
I let out a long breath. “I can't take that risk,” I say, shaking my head. “Not with your life.”
“I'm not going to let you run, Katie,” she says. “I'm not going to let him do this to you. Not after you've worked so hard to get your shit together. You escaped from him once already, hon. Don't let him put you back in that cage of fear.”
“Jessa, I couldn't stand to think that something –”
“If he shows up here, I'll shoot him dead,” she says flatly and without emotion. “I'll be damned if I let him lay a finger on you. I promise you, if he turns up on our doorstep, he's a dead man.”
I want to take heart in her words. Want to feel inspired by them. But, at the end of the day, I'm still gambling with Jessa's life. Chances are, she's right. It was one phone call, meant to scare and intimidate me – mission accomplished on that front, by the way. But, what if we're wrong? What if he's out there right now? Watching? Waiting? What if he hurts my best friend to punish me?
“Promise me, you won't let him run you off again,” Jessa says, gripping my hand tighter.
“I – I –”
“Promise me, Katie,” she says, her voice harder than iron.
“I'm scared, Jessa.”
“That's why I'm going to teach you to use this gun,” she says. “I'm going to teach you self-defense. I'm going to teach you to protect yourself, so if – and it's a big if at this point – that motherfucker shows up, you can deal with him. You're done letting him run your life.”
There is so much passion and conviction in her voice that my heart swells and infuses me with a sudden and unexpected rush of confidence. One I don't particularly deserve to feel, to be honest. But, Jessa’s ferocity and confidence is bleeding over to me.
“In the very unlikely event Victor shows up on our doorstep,” Jessa says, holding my gaze firmly, “I'm going to make sure you're ready. But, I'm telling you, the chances of him actually showing up here are between slim and none. He doesn't have the balls to do it. Victor is a bully and a coward. Nothing more, nothing less.”
A small smile touches my lips. “I never knew you were such a badass, J.”
Jessa laughs, a wry smile on her face. “I can be,” she says. “Especially when someone threatens the person I love the most in this godforsaken world of ours.”
I squeeze her hand and lean forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. She hugs me back, and I find myself drawing strength and courage from her. Jessa is my rock, and I'm so unbelievably thankful for her. After a few seconds, I sit back and give her a small smile. My body still feels like it’s vibrating with fear, but I feel slightly better.
“We're going to get through this,” she says.
I want to believe she's right. That he's playing games and is just trying to screw with my head. Nothing more. Doubts continue to linger in my mind, though. Doubts and fears flow like snakes, writhing and wriggling around inside of me, wrapping themselves around my mind and heart, squeezing them tight.
The one thing she said that I know is unequivocally true, however, is that I’m still trapped in the cage of fear Victor forced me to live in for years. I stare down at the gun in Jessa's lap, admiring how the light glints off the dull, black matte steel.
At some point, I know I need to break free from this damn cage. I can't keep living like this – constantly afraid and always looking over my shoulder. That's not living. It’s barely existing.
As we sit there, Jessa cocks her head and looks at me curiously. I can see her mind working, and know she’s probably realized there's something important I'm not telling her. Jessa has always been able to read me like a book, and is one of the most intuitive people I've ever met.
I want to tell her, but I can't. I don't know how. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. She squeezes my hand again, trying to will her strength into me. I look up at her and feel my eyes stinging with tears. They roll slowly down my face, and I can't seem to stop them.
“It's okay, hon,” she says. “Everything is going to be okay. You'll see.”
“I don't think it is, though, J,” I finally manage to croak.
“You'll see,” she says. “Victor is eventually going to –”
“I'm pregnant,” I say.
My eyes widen, and my stomach churns at the blunt, simple phrase. Two small, simple words. Two words with the power to alter my life forever.
Jessa is staring at me with a look of stunned disbelief on her face. She blinks a couple of times, and opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, so she closes it again.
A long, awkward moment passes between us, neither of us seeming to know what to say. Eventually, Jessa gets her bearings again and turns her eyes to me.
“I know it can't be Victor's,” she says.
I shake my head. “No, it's Aidan's.”
A burst of laughter erupts from her throat. “Well, if you were going to get knocked up by someone, at least you picked pretty well.”
I stare at her with a deadpan expression. “So not funny.”
She bites back her lau
ghter, a sheepish look crossing her face. “No, I guess not. Sorry.”
“I don’t know what I'm going to do, Jessa,” I moan.
“I don't suppose you've talked to Aidan about it yet?”
I shake my head. “I only just found out myself,” I say. “Right before Victor called. Which only adds another layer to this massive shit sandwich. If Victor finds out that I'm carrying somebody else's baby –”
I bury my face in my hands and start to sob. The stress and pressure are too much, and I feel like I'm starting to break. It feels like my entire world is crashing down over me, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.
Jessa moves closer and wraps me up in a tight embrace. I cry against her shoulder as she strokes my hair and whispers soothing words to me. After a few minutes, my tears dry up, and I'm able to stop crying. I sit up and scrub my eyes with my hands. Fear is still churning violently within me, but Jessa reaches out to grab my hands, her gaze locked onto mine.
“It's going to be okay, Kat,” she says. “No matter what comes of this, we'll be okay. I'm going to be by your side the entire time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
I give her a grateful smile. I really don't know what would happen to me without Jessa. She gave me a safe place to go when my world started to fall apart. She's my savior. My rock. She's everything to me.
And now I fear that I'm putting her life in danger. I know she's a woman who is more than capable of defending herself, but she doesn't know Victor like I do. Doesn't understand his cruelty or his maliciousness. I fear for her life far more than I fear for my own.
Except now, I have to worry about the life of the child inside me, too.
“I don't know what to do, Jess,” I say. “I don't know how to even start trying to figure this mess out.”
“The first thing you need to do is talk with Aidan,” she says. “Tell him. He has a right to know.”
I shake my head miserably. “I haven't talked to him since we had sex that time,” I said. “He totally ghosted me, Jess.”
