Jameson's Salvation

by Riley Edwards

  “Kennedy—”

  “No. No. It’s fine. He can have it—all of it. I don’t want it, not anymore. Take me to your house.”

  “Babe—”

  “Get me away from here!” I screamed and ignored the enormous hammer that pounded my skull.

  Jameson put his truck in reverse and backed down my drive. I watched as the house I’d grown up in, the home I loved, started to disappear from sight. I never wanted to see it again. It wasn’t mine anymore. It was Reggie Coleman’s.

  I came awake in a strange bed and for a moment had forgotten where I was and why.

  Then I looked around the stark white room with minimal furnishings and remembered.

  Then I wished I hadn’t woken up.

  A glance out the curtainless window told me it was daylight and I wondered if it was still the same day or if I’d slept the day away. Either way it didn’t matter, time wouldn’t change my circumstances for the better. As a matter of fact, time wasn’t my friend. Every day I didn’t work was a day I’d lost money.

  “Sorry, Dad,” I muttered to an empty room. “I tried.”

  What was my mom going to think of me losing what was left of the land my dad had worked? Day in and day out he’d farmed that land providing for us. We’d already lost the majority of it, but now the house would go, too.

  He loved that house. He’d bitch and complain about all the things that needed to be repaired or updated, then he’d lovingly go about fixing them. He’d hand me a toolbelt and put me to work. Him and me. The two of us working side by side. Even though he’d been gone a long time, every time I put on the old toolbelt he’d given me I still felt him next to me.

  The last thing I had of my father’s would soon be lost to me. Another family wouldn’t move in and love the house the way I did, it’d be gone. Reggie would demolish it and with it all of my memories. It would be nothing more than rubble and splintered wood.

  Shit! What had I done? I’d taunted Reggie and allowed my ego and attitude to egg him on. Instead of playing it smart, I’d been ridiculously stupid.

  Now I’d pay the price.

  “Oh, good you’re awake,” a woman’s voice filled the room. “I’m McKenna.”

  My eyes went to the open door and there McKenna stood. My height, but that’s where the similarities ended. We were opposites, she had long wavy brown hair to my blonde. Light brown eyes that sparkled to my plain green, and she had flawless skin. She fit Nixon perfectly.

  Sweet Jesus, someone kill me now.

  “Hey.”

  I tried to sit up but she stopped me.

  “Please don’t get up.” Her hands were waving in front of her and she added, “Jameson will kill me.”

  “Really, I’m fine. And if I’m honest, I’m kinda tired of lying down.”

  McKenna smiled and the subtle movement made her even more beautiful.

  Forget sitting up. I wanted to lie back down and pull the covers over my head so she wouldn’t see what a mess I was. I didn’t need a mirror to know I looked like a wet cat that had been dragged through the mud before it was plunged into a pit of horse shit.

  Could my life get worse?

  “I’m running to Procolinos to get dinner. Jameson asked me to pick you up some shampoo and stuff while I was out. I thought I’d check and see if you were awake before I left.”

  My stomach took the opportunity to grumble at the mention of food and why not? Nothing like weird stomach noises when meeting your friend’s very pretty girlfriend for the first time while you’re sitting in rumpled clothes looking like a hot mess.

  “I would appreciate it. I think a shower is not only much needed but it would make me feel better. Any brand would be fine, I’m not picky.” My new financial situation rushed back and slapped me in the face and I quickly rushed out. “Whatever’s cheapest will work.”

  McKenna tilted her head and squinted before she recovered and smiled. But I didn’t miss the look.

  Great. Not only did I look homeless, but she probably thought I was, too.

  Which sadly was the truth. As soon as I signed the papers Reggie would own my home and I’d be out on my ass with nowhere to live. Well, I could live with my mom. Just what every thirty-one-year-old woman wants. Yippy.

  “I was going to pick up a few large pizzas. Anything else you’d like?”

  I would have killed for a cheesesteak, but considering I no longer had the money for it, I wouldn’t ask.

  “No. I’m not that hungry. A slice will be more than enough.”

  McKenna sighed and much to my dismay stepped farther into the room. I smelled like hospital antiseptic and God knows what else. I’m sure the combination’s attractive—not.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m out of bounds saying this, but it’s gonna get better. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now but it will.”

  I bit my tongue instead of lashing out. McKenna was Nixon’s girlfriend and Jameson’s friend but she had no idea what she was talking about.

  “You don’t believe me,” she murmured. “I don’t blame you. Before I met Nixon, if someone had told me my life would get better, that things would get easier, that if I had patience everything would work out, I would’ve call them a liar, too. I didn’t want to admit I was drowning, that I had no idea how to handle my brother and sister and guide them through their grief of losing our family while not dealing with mine. I was so determined to do it on my own to prove I could, I forgot I didn’t have to. That when Nixon offered his help, it was okay to take it.

  “I’m going to tell you something I’m sure you already know. Those men downstairs, they live and breathe to protect the people they care about. I can’t say I know Jameson as well as you do even though I work with him fifty hours a week. That’s because he doesn’t let anyone see the real him. But I have a feeling, he’s shown you. So, I don’t need to know you, to know there’s something special about you and you’re someone I want to call my friend. That is, when you’re ready.

  “But in the meantime, don’t turn down their help. It will be a useless battle you’ll lose anyway. They won’t stop fightin’ in your corner. They won’t let anyone bully you or hurt you. They’ll fight until the death for you and I know that as fact. Accepting their help, and Jameson’s in particular, doesn’t make you weak, it makes you smart. It means you’re self-aware and know when it’s time to call in the cavalry.”

  McKenna gave me a lopsided smile and asked again, “Other than pizza what would you like from Procolinos?”

  “A cheesesteak with grilled onions and ketchup.”

  Her smile was beaming and genuine.

  “And your shampoo?”

  “I use Joico but I doubt the supermarket will have that brand, so really anything is fine. I wasn’t lying, I’m not picky.”

  “Great. I’ll be back. Anything else while I’m out?”

  I thought about everything she’d said and as much as I hated to ask, she was right. I needed help, down to the simplest of necessities.

  “Is Nixon going with you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then would you mind going to my house and picking me up some fresh clothes?”

  “Already done. I went with Nixon a while ago and packed you a bag. I tried not to go through your stuff the best I could, but Jameson was adamant you had clean clothes. Sorry I didn’t think to grab your shower stuff, but I did throw in your deodorant.”

  Of course, Jameson would’ve already thought about clothes. The man was forever making sure I was comfortable.

  “Thank you.”

  “Anytime, sister. I’ll be back in a flash and if you’re up to it, I’d like to spend time chatting with you.”

  “I’d love that.”

  “Great.”

  With one last smile, McKenna left the room and I laid back down to think about everything she’d said.

  Could I ask Jameson for more help?

  19

  Jameson

  Jameson stood in the hall outside of his bedroom
and without remorse listened to McKenna and Kennedy’s conversation. It had been mostly one-sided but he didn’t need more words from Kennedy to know how she was feeling.

  He also knew she wouldn’t give up, but she needed time to process this latest blow and he’d give her a safe place to do it until it was time to remind her to bundle up, because the world was a cold place to be. But with him by her side, she may stumble but she’d never fall.

  McKenna exited the room and didn’t look the least bit surprised he’d been eavesdropping. With a pat on his shoulder and a smile, she walked down the hall.

  He stood there a while longer debating whether or not to give her more time. Finally deciding he could no longer stand being away from her, he entered his room and closed the door behind him.

  They both had queen-sized beds but his was softer, and with the thick down comforter she was lying on, she looked like she was being engulfed in white. It felt bizarre being back in his room after spending so much time at Kennedy’s.

  Her room had personality, it was warm and inviting, just like the woman who’d decorated it. Jameson’s was boring and cold. The same could be said for the man who lived there. At least before he’d met Kennedy.

  Now when he crawled into bed, cold didn’t seep into his bones. He didn’t lie awake staring into the dark replaying the worst of his life. Instead, Kennedy’s body pressed close to his, her arm would pin him to the bed—grounding him, her goodness surrounding him, and he could sleep. She warmed him from the inside out.

  “Thanks for letting me stay here,” Kennedy murmured as Jameson made his way across the room.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on her hip. He was unable to keep from touching her. When she was close, Jameson craved the contact.

  “You don’t need to thank me for that,” Jameson said, then reminded her, “You’re not alone anymore.”

  “McKenna’s nice.”

  “She is.”

  “And beautiful.”

  “Yep.”

  Kennedy looked away and Jameson didn’t like the unsure look in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Jameson gently guided her chin back to him and waited.

  “My life is a mess right now. I feel like crap. I look like shit. I guess I’m letting all of my female insecurities get the best of me.”

  Honesty. Jameson loved that she hadn’t tried to hide from him.

  “You hit a bump in the road. We’ll get past it. And you could never look like shit, you’re beautiful.”

  “A bump? I’ve hit a dead end. Game over.”

  Tears welled in her eyes and Jameson struggled to find the words to comfort her.

  “Babe, the game is not over. We have many more moves to make. We’re getting closer. This will all be over soon.”

  Kennedy swiped the tears away and winced in pain.

  “I’m out of moves. Even if I went out tomorrow and got a job at the grocery store, I wouldn’t be able to come up with the money I need to keep my house in time.”

  “Money is not an issue, Kennedy. You will not lose your house.”

  “I have to pay my taxes, Jameson. I could sell my truck, that may be an option.”

  “You’re not selling your truck either. I’ll cover your taxes and—”

  “No!”

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “No way am I taking your money. I don’t take handouts. Either I earn it or I don’t have it.”

  Kennedy’s voice was firm and absolute. Certainly he could pay her taxes behind her back, and avoid the argument all together but that would be shady, and Jameson didn’t do anything behind anyone’s back. It wasn’t his style.

  He thought about the best way to approach the situation to get what he wanted.

  “I want to invest in your business.”

  Kennedy barked out a weak laugh. “There’s not a business to invest in. Everything’s gone. Even if I plowed my plants under and started over, it’s too late in the season. Nothing would grow. And from what I saw, my hives burned to the ground. And there’s the other problem, no one’s buying my products anymore.”

  “I’m not investing in plants and bees, I’m investing in you. I’m investing in the future.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Shh.” Jameson rubbed his thumb across her lips. “Just think about it. You don’t need to answer right now.”

  Kennedy remained quiet for a while and Jameson sat patiently waiting for her to gather her thoughts.

  “I’m not sure I want to ever go back there.”

  “You will.”

  “I freaked out just being in the driveway.”

  Jameson didn’t need the reminder; he couldn’t forget the look of terror and devastation on her pretty face.

  “You’re being too hard on yourself. I knew it would come. Your home is a place where you’re supposed to feel safe. I’m actually surprised it hadn’t come sooner, after Peyton broke in. You were violated twice. Two times, Kennedy. Cut yourself some slack. We’ll stay here until you’re ready to go back. And if we try it again and you’re still not ready, we’ll come back here and wait some more.”

  “I was wearing earbuds, listening to music. That’s why I didn’t hear whoever hit me approach.”

  “But you didn’t have your phone.”

  “I’m still in the dark ages and I use an iPod. I’m too lazy to figure out how to transfer my music over. Between the earbuds and the big helmet I wear so I won’t get stung, I didn’t hear a thing.”

  “It’s not your fault. You shouldn’t have to worry about some asshole coming up behind you when you’re working in your yard.”

  But even as Jameson said it he wondered what would’ve happened if she had heard. Would she have been able to run away or would she have been hurt worse? Knowing Kennedy, she would’ve stood her ground. She would’ve gone on the attack, and a man armed with a bat or a board could’ve done some serious damage.

  The thought of her being beaten worse than she was made Jameson murderous. As it was he was fighting to keep his control. He wanted nothing more than to be hunting down the man who’d hurt her, but he knew she needed him more and his vengeance would have to wait.

  “But—”

  “No buts, Kennedy,” he said firmly. “It’s not your fault.”

  She changed the topic to her mom and Jameson told her he’d called and checked in with Lola. She and Janice were more than happy to have a man in the house to cook for. Holden had also called and confirmed both women were force-feeding him and if he had to stay more than one night Nixon was paying for a gym membership.

  “That sounds like my mom. She believes a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. She always loved to cook and bake. But now, she has a hard time standing at the stove so she just bosses Miss Janice.” Kennedy smiled. “She has physical therapy tomorrow. I’ll have to go over and get her.”

  “Holden has it under control. He’s going to take her.”

  “That’s too much.”

  “No, it’s not. Besides, he said he wants to watch what exercises the therapist has her doing.”

  “Why would he want to watch that?” Kennedy scrunched her nose. “Therapy is two hours.”

  “Holden was injured in training. He went to PT for three months and wasn’t seeing any improvement. So he decided it was time for him to learn what he could and take over his recovery. He was obsessive about it and took online kinesiology and physiology classes. He knows a thing or two about the mechanics of movement.”

  “Really?” She looked shocked.

  “What? Did you think we were all just dumb sailors?” He smiled.

  “No, of course not.”

  Jameson heard boots stomping up the stairs. He stood, his hand automatically going to his hip, his hand hovering over his sidearm. Chasin came into view and Jameson relaxed.

  “Jesus, you big gorilla.” Chasin chuckled. “I would’ve announced my approach if I would’ve known you were gonna draw on me.”
<
br />   “I didn’t even unholster my weapon, you big baby,” Jameson returned.

  “It takes you under a second from holster to trigger pull. I was as good as dead.”

  “Do you ever not exaggerate?”

  “Not when I’m trying to get sympathy from a beautiful woman.” Chasin’s eyes landed on the bed and all the humor left his face. “How ya feelin’, Kennedy?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “How are the headaches?”

  If anyone could empathize with Kennedy it was Chasin. He had what they called a soft head. It seemed like the smallest of hits would give Chasin a concussion.

  “I haven’t had one today. But if I move too quickly it feels like an ice pick is being driven into my forehead.”

  “That sounds like an accurate description,” he told her. “It will take a few more days for those to go away.”

  “Everything go okay in Ohio?” Jameson asked.

  “Yeah, found the guy getting a blowjob behind a bar. Worst part was having to wait until it was over, because I did not want to grapple with the man with his dick flopping around. And it took forever, either the woman gave shit head, or he has some serious stamina because it took her the better part of thirty minutes. I was thinking of offering the poor woman an ice pack for her jaw after she’d worked so hard. As soon as he was tucked in and zipped up, I took him into custody. He actually thanked me for letting him get one more BJ before he went down.” Chasin shook his head and smiled. “Dropped him off in Baltimore and came home with a check. All in all, I’d say it was easy money, except for the watching the blowjob part.”

  “That’s gross,” Kennedy announced.

  “You’re telling me.” Chasin mock shuttered.

  Chasin was still working the drama edge. But Jameson didn’t care. He was too busy enjoying the smile on Kennedy’s face.

  “Talked to Jonny,” Chasin announced. “He’s officially inviting us into the investigation. He needs all of us at the station tomorrow to be temporarily deputized. After that he’ll share everything they have so far. He did mention he had a tip, but wouldn’t go into details over the phone or until we were official.”