Hidden (New Orleans Temptation Series Book 2)

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Hidden (New Orleans Temptation Series Book 2) Page 17

by Monica May


  “Yeah, I just need two shots. Is that a problem?” I say in an ugly tone.

  He holds his hands up in surrender. “No, no, I’m sorry. You just looked upset, that’s all.” He turns and pours me two shots. I throw them back one after another and walk off without another word. I’ll pay him later.

  I do my best to push it out of my head while I’m on the box. The place is packed and I can’t leave Samantha hanging tonight. I just have to suck it up. It feels like it takes forever for my shift to be over. When it is, I rush to get changed trying to avoid Carmella and Jackson. If I see either of them, I will fall apart. I manage to get out without either of them seeing me. Jackson is busy with the rowdy crowd and Carmella is busy reapplying Dixie’s makeup before her double shift. I asked her to step in for me telling her I didn’t feel well.

  I run out the back door and immediately feel the regret for leaving without confronting Jackson. But what is there to talk about? I ran from a man that was going to beat me to death if I stayed. I can’t be with a man that I know may snap. I grasp my jacket and wrap myself tight trying to stay warm on the walk home.

  The streets are busy, but damn it, I know better than to walk home alone. I hear voices and see shadows behind me. Your mind is playing tricks on you, I think and pick up the pace. I roll my eyes as I start to hear the Voodoo Queen’s voice in my head. “The tiger is the only thing that can save you from the dragon.” I cringe at the memory of her saying that. But the words keep playing in my head as I hear footsteps getting closer. I’m half a block away from Carmella's apartment when the person is so close to me I can hear their breath behind me. When I start to sprint, a large strong hand grabs me. I try to scream but the other hand covers my mouth.

  The arms turn me and bring me into an embrace. “Shhh, it’s just me,” Jackson says. “It’s okay, Sunny. You have to listen to me. Please don't scream, but I can’t watch you run away from me. I saw that crazy bitch Norma at the club, and she told me what she said to you. I need you to know it’s a lie.”

  I look at him with an enormous amount of fear. How can I not considering my past and what she showed me? I don't want to talk to him right now. I can’t.

  “Let me go now,” I say loudly.

  “No, you need to hear me out.”

  I raise my voice even louder this time, “Let me go now!” That was loud enough to draw the attention of a uniformed police officer that has just rounded the corner. “Is there a problem here, Miss?”

  Jackson loosens his grip on me as the officer approaches.

  “I think I heard the lady ask you to let her go,” he says sternly with his hand on his hip near his gun.

  “Sir, this is my girlfriend, and we were just having a bit of a discussion.”

  I look at the officer. “I am his ex-girlfriend, and I’m not interested in having a discussion with him. Could you please make sure he stands here while I get into my apartment?”

  “Ma’am, do you want to make a report? Did he hurt you?”

  My face flames red. He has not only hurt me, but he has broken me into tiny pieces. I love him, but I have to walk away from him.

  “No, sir, he has not touched me. I just want to go home without him.”

  “I understand. Sir, stand back. You and I are going to have a little chat while she walks home.”

  I turn and run, not looking back. Once inside the apartment, I lock myself in my room and slide down the door in a ball and cry. I must sit there for over an hour until I hear Carmella unlock the front door. I jump into bed and cover my face pretending to be asleep.

  I know she will check on me and she does. The light peeks in as she opens the door, “Poor baby must be getting the flu,” I hear her say softly. She shuts the door, and I sigh in relief that I don't have to talk about it right now. I need to get it together and put up a wall tomorrow. I don't want to crumble and put myself in the same position as in the past. I spend the night tossing and turning and finally fall to exhaustion around 6:00 a.m.

  When I wake, Carmella sits cross-legged on the sofa in her pajamas. She looks up at me with a sympathetic smile. “How you feeling this morning? Any better?”

  I walk over to her and sit beside her. “I don't feel any better. But I’m not sick, I don't have the flu.”

  “Then what’s wrong, honey?” She puts her hand on my leg.

  I tell her about my encounter with Norma at the club last night. She pulls me into a big hug and doesn’t let go for a long moment waiting for me to break down in my usual way. She pulls back surprised that I’m not hysterical.

  With a crossed look on her face, she asks, “Are you sure you are okay? I don't see one tear, and honey, that kinda scares me.”

  “I know but I cried everything I had last night, and I just don't have any more left to cry. I can’t do it again so I have to be strong. I decided I’m going to give my notice and waitress somewhere until school starts. I already have the grant for school, so I really just need money to be able to help you with rent here.” I look up at her with pleading eyes. “That is, if you are okay with me staying with you a little longer.”

  Swatting her hand at me, she says, “Of course, that is not even a question. You are always welcome here. But honey, don't you think you should at least hear his side?”

  Before I can protest, she gives me the death glare—the hear me out or I may slap you look.

  “I’m just saying I saw that girl at Cat’s. She had crazy written all over her. It may not be what it seems, that’s all.”

  “I don’t know?”

  The days run together like molasses, slow and thick. The day after the Norma incident, Jackson came to the apartment, but I told Carmella not to let him in, I didn't want to see him or hear him out. I had Carmella tell Samantha I was not coming back and why. I knew she would understand, but I do feel bad just walking out like that. I just can’t face him yet; I can’t walk into the club and see him without folding. I need more time to build up my shield. And when my shield is hardened, I’ll go back to the club, but only to get the few things I left there. I left my grandmother’s heart locket in my locker when I ran out without putting it back on. I feel naked without it, but I never danced with it on since I was afraid I would lose it. Maybe tomorrow I can go in. Who are you kidding? It will take years to get over Jackson and the deception of who he really is.

  Mardi Gras day has come and gone with me shriveled up in a ball on the sofa. Carmella tried to get me to go to the final parade of the Mardi Gras season with her, but I was not in the mood. I turned my cell phone off the night I left Jackson standing on the street with the police officer and have not had the heart to turn it back on. I miss Jackson so much, but I can’t willingly go back to a man that has ever laid a hand on a woman. That is what I’m running from. I can’t bring myself to run to it, no matter how much my heart hurts to have him in my arms and in my bed.

  The sun starts to go down and I figure I need to get out of bed and try to eat something for the first time today. The loss of Jackson still makes my stomach roll, but I manage to nibble on some toast and peanut butter. Carmella is out with Dixie looking for a new man. I think I have been lying in this bed forever. In reality, I think it has been four full days and five nights straight. Carmella may physically pull me out tomorrow morning; she’s lost her patience with my moping. But hell, she has not had her heart ripped out and stomped on, so I will sit here and have my own personal pity party as long as I like.

  I shove a piece of toast in my mouth when I hear a loud thud on the door. I get up quickly to see who’s banging on the door. But as soon as I do, the rooms starts to spin and I see spots. Damn it, I’m going down. I do my best to get to the ground before it happens.

  “Sunny, open the door. I know you are in there. I hear you breathing, Sunny.” I hear him beg as my eyes open, and I look up at the fourteen-foot ceiling.

  “Please, Sunny, listen to me. It’s not what you think, I promise. Hear me out. Open the door, Sunshine, please,” he pleads.

/>   I had managed to get down pretty close to the ground before I went out, so I don't think I hurt anything. I sit up slowly and kneel before I try to get up. Once I’m up, I walk quietly to the door and place my hands flat on the door trying to feel him. Knowing he’s out there pains my heart. He is begging me to open the door, but I just can’t do it. I owe Joe and myself too much to do it. I turn and walk away with tears streaming down my face. I can’t listen to his voice. It’s too much, and I will crumble. I make my way to the bathroom flipping on the vent and the shower trying to drown out the noise.

  As I undress, I can still hear him out there, but at least, I can’t hear the words, or the lies. I get undressed and catch my pathetic reflection in the mirror. I have not eaten a real meal or seen the sun in four days. My sleep has been nonexistent, and it clearly shows with dark circles under my eyes. My hair is greasy, and I’ve lost a few pounds. I look like I did when I was with Rex, broken. The image pisses me off. How did I let another man do this to me? How? I stare at my reflection for a moment longer deciding the pity party is officially over.

  I get into the shower and take a very long time washing myself and trying to feel new again. I wash myself and my hair two or three times each, hoping Jackson will be gone when I get out. Shutting the water off, I step out and listen. It’s silent, and I try to tell myself I’m happy he's gone. I take my time blow-drying my hair, putting lotion on my freshly shaven legs, and putting on some tinted moisturizer to make me feel better about the circles under my eyes.

  I step out of the bathroom heading straight to the front door to check the peephole. He is gone and a mixture of emotions flood my mind and heart. I shove them all away determined to get it together. Picking up the remote, I flip on the TV to have some noise while I go back to the kitchen. I need more to eat if I don't want to keep passing out every time I stand. One of the best things about living with Carmella is her mom’s cooking. She brings us containers of food every Sunday. I had overheard her mom say she made me some special corn and crab soup since I wasn’t feeling well.

  I open the fridge in search of her Ms. Marie’s delicious soup. After two bowls of the creamy delight, I truly feel better already, inside and out. I figured while I was at it, I would try her homemade chocolate éclairs since I was down a few pounds anyway. I take one bite and moan as the smooth cream invades my senses.

  “Well, that sounds better than sex,” Carmella teases from the open door.

  “It’s gonna have to be,” I say, looking back down to my éclair.

  Striding over to the table, she gets a good glance at my cleaned-up self. “Hot damn, woman, you finally got your dirty ass in the shower.”

  I look up at her with daggers and then smirk at her playfully. “When the pounding on the door by Jackson started, I had to get away so the shower was the only place I could go to block it out.”

  I pop the last piece of heaven in my mouth and ask with a mouthful, “Have wine with me?”

  “Considering I’m home from a night out at 9:00 p.m. with you and not some hot piece of ass, I really should drink myself into a stupor.”

  We laugh and drink until the three bottles of wine are empty. It felt good to laugh, be silly, and forget about Jackson, even if it were only for a few hours. And for the first time in days, I sleep soundly.

  The next morning, I get up and pour myself some coffee.

  “Ya finally up?” Carmella asks from the couch. “You look good. You look like you have finally rested.”

  “I am rested and I really do feel better. I think I feel well enough to run into the club and empty my locker. Do you know if Jackson is working today?”

  “I don’t know if he’s working, but I have seen him, and he doesn’t look good, Sunny. You think you looked like shit, he looked just as bad if not worse.”

  “Really,” I say with both sadness and pleasure that I’m not the only one suffering.

  “Yes, really, and he has asked me about you every time I see him. I think you should hear him out.”

  I look up at her with shock. Whose side is she on? As the words leave her mouth, there is a knock at the door. We both look at each other knowing who’s probably on the other side of the door. Carmella gets up and goes to the door. Before she reaches it, she looks back at me. “I won’t leave you so please just hear him out. I will be on the other side of the paper-thin wall, and girl, you know I have your back.” Smiling at me, she looks through the peephole. Looking back at me, she shrugs as if she does not know who it is.

  “Who is it?” Carmella shouts at the door.

  “It’s Melinda,” the person from outside yells.

  Carmella whispers to me, “Do you know a Melinda?”

  I get up and walk past her to look through the hole.

  “It’s Jackson’s sister,” I say in shock.

  “Come on, Sunny, hear me out,” she shouts through the door. “You asked me how you can repay me for removing your tattoo, and now I’m here to collect. Just hear me out. That’s all I ask of you.”

  I push Carmella to the side and open the door. Melinda steps in looking around at our small apartment.

  “Hey,” I say shyly. I didn’t expect her, and I’m not sure what she’s doing here. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Yeah, I figured that, but I really need to talk to you,” she says, looking up to Carmella.

  Carmella being Carmella does not back down. She steps toward Melinda with her hand out. “Hi. I’m Carmella, Sunny’s best friend and roommate.”

  “Hi. I’m Jackson’s sister Melinda, nice to meet you. But if you don’t mind, I would really like to talk to Sunny in private.”

  “Not a problem. I was about to go take a shower and get dressed anyway. Call me if you need me, honey.”

  “I will,” I say to her as she walks away to the bathroom and gives me a smile.

  “Look, Sunny, I don't want to waste your time, and you have met me enough times to know I’m not going to bullshit you.”

  I look down at my hands, wringing them together and feeling exposed. How much does she really know about Jackson and me?

  “Sunny, please look at me. I care about you, and I love my brother. This is crazy. That fucking bitch Norma has been a thorn in his side since the day he met her.”

  “So he just beat the shit out of her because she deserved it,” I say with wide eyes and discontent dripping from my words.

  She stiffens in her chair looking at me square on. “I understand how upset you are—”

  “Do you really, Melinda? Has anyone ever beat the crap out of you? Has a man ever laid hands on you? Because if not, you don't understand how upset I am.”

  She reaches over and places her hand on mine. “Please listen to the truth. I promise you will understand. I will give it to you short and sweet. “

  I shake my head in confirmation, and she begins her story.

  “Jackson came home from his tour and he was a mess. The shit they see over there will fuck you up. And he did everything and anything in the ways of a woman to try and forget the pain. When Norma got her hooks into him, she knew she had a good thing, and she didn’t want to let him go. Jackson was not the man you know today when he let her into his life. He was a shell of a man during that time in his life. But being the man he is, he rebounded and realized she was a nut job. He broke it off with her, and she just kept coming back.”

  The more she speaks, the angrier I get. Is she really about to tell me this chick deserved it? If she does, I may not be able to handle it.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Sunny. You said you would hear me out.”

  “Then please get to the short of it.”

  “So that’s when he bought the place near the lake so he could get away from her. Be away from the city and do the things he liked. You ever notice you don't have cell service out there?”

  “What?” I’m confused as to why she would ask. Of course, I noticed. As soon as you get within five miles of the area, the phone goes out. It annoyed me
because my own cell phone was new to me, but Jackson would always say how peaceful it was not be hooked up to technology.

  “Cell service,” she repeats, trying to make me understand.

  “Yes, I know what you are talking about, but what does that have to do with anything?”

  “It was just another way to cut his ties with her. He changed his number, but she always seemed to find it. So no cell service, and he even moved jobs so there was no way for her to find him. Anyway, she finally found out where he worked and waited for him outside. She started a fight on purpose in front of the security cameras. She pushed his buttons about his tour, and then she physically attacked him. He did not hit her, Sunny. He never hit her. He was able to restrain her, which does not look really nice on camera, but he never hit her. She went home that night and paid someone to beat the shit out of her, and she blamed it on my brother.”

  I give her a questioning look. “You have to admit, Melinda, that sounds a bit convoluted, don't you think?”

  “Absofuckinglutely … I about tore Jackson a new asshole when it went down. But he has never lied to me in our entire lives. I would know it.”

  “But I’m not his twin, and I have not known him my entire life. How can you expect me to believe this?”

  “I would never ask you to believe it if it weren't true. I received a call and this information from the FBI last night. Here take a look.”

  She shoves her phone in my hand and presses play. Immediately, I recognize that blonde bitch Norma. Her face is plastered with makeup, and her silicone-inflated lips are painted the same red as the other night. She’s facing the camera and speaking to a man. What she says is earth shattering. In her evil voice, she says, “I paid you $1,000 to beat the shit out of me to make it look like my boyfriend Jackson did it, and now you want to charge me $10,000 to keep it a secret?”

  I cover my mouth in horror gasping at the thought that someone would do such a thing. I saw the pictures of her. She was beaten so badly she was almost unrecognizable.

  “Oh, wait, there is more. You need to see the next one. Flip to the next video, Sunny.”

 

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