“When I think about the Corps, I can’t help but reminisce about her, too: the dates; the romantic nights under the stars; the fun; the sex… I never forgot – ever. Those memories became even stronger when I thought I’d lost her. However, she forgot. I don’t mind, really. We all have to make our choices and live with them. She chose the uniform.
I won’t go back to being a marine. Sure, the friendships I made while serving would last forever, but I don’t want to get shot at every other day because some crazy middle-eastern man thinks he is on a mission from God. Instead, I have grown to love the mountain. It is peaceful: pure; I wake up in the morning and I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. It’s not just the scenery that takes my breath away; it’s Holly, too. If it hadn’t been for her, I’d still be mourning. I’d still watch those beautiful sunsets, imagining I was sharing them with Allison. But no more: you gave my life direction, honey. You gave me a reason to live.”
Predictably, this decoration ceremony went exactly as he expected. Had it not been for the long speeches, it wouldn’t have lasted more than two hours. General Holden’s words moved him, as he decorated him with another Bronze Star.
“It’s been an honor, son.” He said, saluting him. But still, nothing that came out of the aging military man’s mouth was enough to change his mind. As much as he loved his country, Jake Isaacs had found, in mount Greylock, the one thing that the marines could never offer him: peace of mind. Yes, he had to come up with the money for his mortgage the 12th of every month, but his bar was very popular and he had always been punctual. After all, paying off a loan was a small price to pay for his new life.
After a long, but rather fun day, full of memories and strong emotions, he returned to Adams late that night, with a heart filled with content, in nervous anticipation of seeing his Holly again. As Jake pulled his keys out of the pocket of his jacket though, he began to suspect that their next meeting would not go as he would like. Someone had placed a large, brown envelope and a smaller, white one against his door behind the storm door. When he opened the former, his jaw dropped. It contained a picture of him and Allison. She was standing next to a bed, naked, looking down at him. He was also naked and gazing up at her face as well. There was also a date, at the bottom right corner:
2-28-2017
Fuming with rage, he pulled a letter out of the white envelope. It was from Holly.
“So… This is what marines do, when they get back from missions? Oh, my God! I was disgusted when I saw these. Yeah, there were more pictures. I tore them to little pieces. How could you do this to me? I trusted you, I supported you, I loved you with everything in my heart and you… You blew it!
I should have listened to Cathy. She always said you’d get back together with her. Goodbye, Jake.
Holly”
“Noooo!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, tossing both envelopes across his driveway. Feeling his blood pumping through his veins, he went back to his car. In a matter of seconds, he was on his way to Holly’s house.
How the fuck is this even possible? That picture has Sunday’s date on it. I don’t remember sleeping anywhere near her! Damn you, Allison. I turned you down and now you’re out to destroy my happiness. You’ve hit a new low: first the list; then the whole jealousy crap; now this? Wait till I get my hands on you, you crazy little bitch.
Jake noticed a familiar, feminine figure, sitting on the top landing of the small staircase that led to Holly’s front door. She had dropped her face into her hands. The tires of his SUV screeched, as he stepped hard on the brakes, just a few feet away from her. With his heart pounding in his chest, he stormed out of his car and hurtled towards her.
“Holly…” he gasped, as his quick footsteps brought him closer to her. “It’s a lie, baby. I never laid a hand on her.”
“Go away,” she sniffled. “It’s all over.”
“No!” He yelled is a voice riddled with panic and fear. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“What would you do?” Holly asked him, her voice hardly audible as she slowly looked up at him. The sight of her watery, reddened eyes melted his heart. “What would you do if someone showed you pictures of me and another man in bed?”
“I would not believe it!” His stentorian voice rumbled like thunder, as he leaned over her.
“Really?” she responded, her voice reeking with sarcasm. “I didn’t want to believe it was you at first. But it was and those pictures…” Her voice broke, as she covered her mouth with her hand. “They’re recent.”
“You’ve got to believe me, Holly…” He lowered his tone, his breathing short. “I would never do this to you: ever.”
“Go home,” she whispered, blinking back tears, as she tore her gaze away from him. “Go back to her.”
Frustrated by her words, Jake squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his blood pound in his temples. His initial thought was to scream at her, but such an approach would not help him at all. He took a deep, cleansing breath and leaned back.
“You don’t believe me,” he said, his tone calm as he shook his head. “I didn’t sleep with her. I’m going to prove it. And…” he paused. “And when I do, don’t come crawling back to me. There’s this old song I really like. It’s called ‘When I’m gone’. Do yourself a favor and listen to it, particularly the part where it says: ‘If I walk out that door, it’s forever, there’s no turning back.’ Have a good night, Holly. Thanks a lot for the vote of confidence.”
Jake flipped around and walked away from her, as she once more, burst into loud, wailing sobs. Straight away, the song he had mentioned to Holly began to play in his mind, but he was too upset to be affected by the sheer emotion of it.
It was only later, when his anger subsided that he realized what had transpired. His relationship with her had come to a sad, bitter end. Jake poured some whiskey into a glass and pressed the “play” button on his stereo. The acoustic guitar introduction raised every hair on his body. Robin McAuley's voice sent shivers down his spine, as the powerful ballad reminded him of Holly’s smiling face. It wasn’t long before the glass slipped through his fingers. It fell hard to the floor and shattered into hundreds of pieces. Jake leaned his back against his couch, as tears rose up in his eyes. This time, he would not hold them back. He had lost the one thing he had believed in, the woman who had pulled him out of his misery. The “angel on his shoulder” as he used to call her, had flown away from him, breaking his heart. And there was nothing he could do about it…
“Goodbye, Holly…” He whispered, hot, thick tears spilling from his eyes, as he got lost in the magic of the song…
It's early morning, not quite awake the urge is calling and I can't wait I need you now, Oh! Your body moves, we feel like one you open your eyes and I feel so strong I want you now, more than ever
You laugh when I cry I'm beginning to see the reason why don’t go thinking I'll never leave 'Cause you won't be laughin' you won't believe (You better believe)
When I'm gone baby, gone Who's gonna hold you From dark until dawn And who will be there That can love you like me When I'm gone?
Your clothes are hanging on the floor my room is full of the night before and the promise you made to love me forever
Oh! You can't use me Then just up and leave You got it wrong You better believe If I walk out that door It's forever There's no turnin' back
When I'm gone baby, gone Who will you turn to When you need someone Who will be there to love you Do what I do When I'm gone...
23
“Wakey-wakey!” A rich, hoarse voice woke him up from his deep sleep. His head buzzed, as he opened his swollen eyes to slits. Clay was standing under his doorframe. “This place looks like a fucking warzone. Hell, you look like you’ve been through a war,” he added, stepping over an empty whiskey bottle.
“Morning,” Jake spoke, his own voice gravelly, as he sat up.
“Morning?” Clay gave a snort of derision. “It’s 4:20 in the afternoon, pretty boy. I thought you’d be at the bar by now
. What the hell happened to you?”
His friend’s question was met by silence. Jake dropped his gaze to the floor, unwilling to utter a single word.
“Chic drama,” Clay concluded. “Too bad: I liked the deputy. She’s a feisty old gal.”
“And too stubborn,” Jake groaned, rubbing his blurry eyes “She didn’t have faith in us, man.”
“You guys looked pretty happy. Why would you break up?” Clay asked.
“Because of that,” Jake snarled and pointed at the picture on the living room table in front of him.
“Whoa!” Clay said and whistled, staring down at the picture in question. “That’s one hot piece of ass. You nailed her?”
“No, man,” Jake grumbled, snatching it away from him. “It’s a fake.”
“It doesn’t look like a fake,” Clay voiced his objection. “I thought you’d quit. What were you doing lying in that bunk?”
“I went back to Iraq. I had to save a couple of friends.” Jake informed him, running his hand through his hair.
“Semper fi,” Clay smiled. “Come on, man. You can tell me. Did you nail her or not?”
“No!” Jake cried, banging his fist against the couch. “Why would I hide that from you?”
“Give me that picture.” Clay attempted a more serious tone. Jake obliged.
“We had a lot to drink on the flight back.” He maintained. “I got a little drunk, but I can remember everything. I didn’t touch her.”
“Mmm…” Clay hummed. “I’m starting to think you’re right. There are a couple of things I don’t like. First of all, the two bunks next to yours seem smaller and narrower, somehow. You look drowsy, too. You don’t look like a guy who’s about to get laid.”
“It’s been photo shopped,” Jake murmured, running his hand through his hair. “Why am I not surprised?”
“That’s what it looks like,” Clay said. “I know someone who can help you out with this. In fact, she’s the reason why I wanted to see you. Remember our little bet?”
“The one you won,” Jake spoke, a bitter smile on his face, as his friend seated himself beside him. “What about it?”
“Well, Jennifer’s a computer analyst,” Clay stated. “And she dumped Tom, a couple of days ago. The last thing she said to him was: ‘I should have fucked that bartender, a while ago.’ Stay away from her, brother. You and Tom are my friends. If he finds out you banged her, things could get messy.”
“I’m not looking for a new relationship, Clay,” Jake declared, shaking his head sideways. “I don’t need more heartache.”
“Who said anything about a relationship?” Clay spoke, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “She’s just looking for a good time.”
“Don’t worry,” Jake assured Clay, patting him on the back. “I can keep my dick in my pants. Now, you said she could help.”
“Yeah,” Clay nodded. “I’ll give her a call. Anyway, who were those guys you saved?”
“Austen Rivers and Ricardo Sanchez,” Jake sharply responded. “We go way back.”
“Rivers?” Clay squinted at him.
“Yeah, why?”
“I thought I heard someone call out his name the other day.” Clay continued. “This blue sedan had pulled up right outside Winston’s supermarket. The guy in the car said something like: ‘Come on, Rivers! I ain’t got all day!’ Then, his buddy came out of the supermarket and yelled at him.”
“What did he look like?” Jake was intrigued.
“I don’t know, man.” Clay shrugged. “I was pretty far, it was getting dark: average height, 5’9”, maybe 5’10”, a little thin for his build.”
“That sounds nothing like Austen,” Jake put a little force in his voice. “He’s a little taller than me, a little stocky. Besides, he’s been in Iraq all this time.”
“Whatever,” Clay mumbled. “Go put some clothes on. You need to get out of here.”
“Do I…?” Jake lowered his voice to a soft whisper. “Thanks, Clay. I’d rather stay here, though. The bar stays closed for tonight.”
“Fuck no!” Clay exploded with anger. “You’re going to the bar, darling. We are going to the bar.”
“You should have seen her face,” Jake whispered, squeezing his lips. “You should have heard the stuff she said. She sounded like she hated me.”
“She’s hurting,” Clay uttered. “Let’s go to the bar. I’ll ask Jennifer to stop by. The deputy will come back in no time.”
“I don’t care,” Jake spoke in a firm tone. “She wouldn’t hear me out. She lost faith too easily. Why should I take her back?”
“For the same goddamn reason you drank yourself to sleep last night,” Clay’s hoarse voice was filled with anger, as he intensified his stare.
“Why do you care so much?” Jake wondered.
“Because I don’t want you to end up like me,” Clay replied, lowering his tone: “Fifty seven, childless and alone.”
“God…” Jake gave an exasperated huff. “You don’t understand, Clay.”
“I understand just fine,” Clay disagreed. “But, I’m not going to force the issue here. Think about what I said. Now, go put some clothes on.”
“Alright,” Jake and drew in a deep breath. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”
“Thanks,” Clay said with a grin. “Now, get up. You got a lot of work to do.”
24
Under any other circumstances, Jake would have taken Clay’s advice and tried to reconnect with Holly. His friend had already proved to him that he only wanted what was best for him. However, Jake would not even consider it. In his mind, Holly’s lack of faith was unforgiveable. She had every reason to be upset; the pictures of him in bed with Allison were incriminating evidence, but she had failed to do what he had done for her, twice: listen to what he had to say. One more thing puzzled him: Holly was supposed to know her way around computers and yet, she had not noticed the simple inconsistencies that Clay easily had. If anything, a young woman like her should have been able to tell whether those pictures were fake or not.
“So much for a computer geek,” he thought to himself. “Maybe it was dark when you saw them. Maybe you didn’t want to give us a chance. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you threw away what we had, Holly.”
Clay left his friend at the bar and went to pick up Jennifer. Jake chose a playlist in haste and waited patiently for him and the redhead. Still, the first person to visit his bar that afternoon was Sheriff Matheson. For some reason, he had a huge, almost silly grin on his face.
“Evening, Sheriff,” Jake said as he cast an interested glance at him. “What are you so happy about?”
“The feds finally cleared the station,” he said, leaning his elbows on the counter.
“Any luck on finding who murdered Jensen?” Jake asked.
“No.” The Sheriff replied. “They said they had no evidence. Look, is everything ok between you and Holly? She called in sick this morning.”
“Ask her,” Jake urged.
“She’s never called in sick,” The Sherriff used an emphatic tone. “I tried, but she wouldn’t say. Thanks, anyway. I’ll be seeing you.”
“Never called in sick, huh? What a shame, baby. You wrecked everything and now, look at us. Up until last night, I couldn’t imagine my life without you. I’m going to miss the Holly who was always there for me. I won’t miss the stubborn woman who gave up on us so quickly.”
The sound of his front door being pushed open snapped him out of his thoughts. Clay had done as promised; he had brought Jennifer with him.
“Jennifer Rockwell, Jake Isaacs,” he introduced them. “I’ll let you two to talk. I’ll see you later, pretty boy.”
“Thanks, Clay,” Jake winked at him. “Pleasure,” he said, offering his hand for a handshake.
“Nice to meet you,” Jennifer’s voice was a little deep for a woman and her face remained stiff, as she shook his hand.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Jake asked.
“A club soda wo
uld be nice,” Jennifer replied, maintaining her businesslike tone, as she hopped onto a stool. “Clay said you wanted my professional opinion. May I see the picture?”
“Sure.” He said with a nod. He took the picture out of the envelope in front of him and handed it over to her. “Do you need more light?”
“Not really,” she maintained, turning on a small flashlight. The tiny beam pointed down at the picture. Even though he had a good idea about what she had to say to him, Jake was still somewhat anxious about this.
“Cute little toy,” he commented.
“It’s not a toy,” Jennifer’s monotonous voice discouraged him from making any more smart remarks. “And this is not a real picture. It’s been tampered with. I count four separate sources. I’ll need to run this on my computer, but it will only confirm my suspicions. It’s sloppy; my 3-year old niece could have done a lot better than this.”
“Thanks,” Jake sighed. “What do I owe you?”
“Well, nothing…” she faltered, “yet. Like I said, I need to analyze it.”
“What’s your fee? How long will the whole thing take?” Jake had even more questions.
“Three to four hours. My fee depends on the case.” Jennifer said, putting the picture into her purse. “I can have it ready by ten, but I don’t want to bother you here again. I’m guessing this place is going to be packed. What’s your address?”
“I close at 2am, Jennifer,” this time, it was Jake who assumed a businesslike tone. “Don’t you have to go to work tomorrow?”
“I’m a freelance professional. I make my own schedule. I’d suggest we do this tomorrow morning, but I have a plane to catch. What’s your address?” She insisted.
“Damn it…” He hummed, frustrated by her persistence. “64 Patton Street. It’s at the end of the road. Do you ever smile?”
Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection Page 121
