Love, Lies & The D.A.

by Rohman, Rebecca

I feel like I want to break down and cry, but I manage to hold back the tears. I really don’t want him to leave.

  “You can stay if you like,” I respond, but I know he’s already made up his mind.

  He walks over to me and pulls me in his arms then kisses me on my forehead.

  “I think you need some time alone,” he says softly.

  No, I don’t. Please. Don’t go… I want you to stay… I need you to stay.

  He kisses me on my cheek then exits the room.

  As I hear the elevator doors close, my tears fall. What should have been an incredible night for us to share has turned into a world of confusion for me… and I’m sure him.

  Is he angry with me? Before he left, he kissed me on my forehead and my cheek; he’s hasn’t done that in a long time. There was no “I’ll see you tomorrow” or any plans made. To come to think of it, we’ve shared all of the last few weekends together, and now within a matter of moments, he’s gone.

  I curl up on my bed and lie, thinking of him. The pillow smells of him, the sheets smell of him, yet he’s not here…

  I walk into the kitchen the next morning. The famous flan occupies the top shelf of the refrigerator. I feel sad as I remember how last night ended. It was so not what I expected. Our lovemaking was amazing, but the fear I felt after and Jonathan’s exit were sudden.

  Now that Caroline is better and Jonathan doesn’t need me anymore, perhaps I should pack my things and return to Big Sur. Or maybe I should go spend some time at my office to occupy me. I miss being a part of the day-to-day operations of the business.

  The office should be empty, it being Saturday. God knows how badly I need a distraction. I slip into a pair of jeans and a white sweater, slip my satchel over my shoulder, and I head out the door.

  The office is deadly silent; not a soul is in with the exception of the security guard, who welcomes me in at the door. My all-white office looks the way I left it but void of my PC, and the blinds are closed, blocking my bay view.

  I spend the morning perusing through occupancy reports for the various properties, spend a little time online reading customer reviews, then follow up with the individual property managers to touch base.

  The time for me to visit my properties for site inspections is close approaching, and I’m hoping this case will be over by then. I need to get my life back to normal.

  It’s about noon when I prepare to head back home. A photo of Jonathan catches my attention as I close my open folders, and I can’t help but think about him… and last night. I miss him. I wonder if he headed to Lake Tahoe for the rest of the weekend or stayed here because of his mom’s health. I pull my Johnnyphone from my bag. I’m tempted to call him. I dial his number, but I can’t bring myself to push the send button. I suppose that at some point, we have to talk about last night, but it will have to be another time.

  I head out of the office and stop at the store on the way home to pick up a few things. I am happy to go through these normal things unbothered or noticed by anyone. Perhaps my Audrey Hepburn looking sunglasses helps to disguise my face.

  As I approach the turn to Jonathan’s house, I instinctively go in. The garage doors have no glass, therefore it’s hard to tell if he’s home. Neither of his vehicles are parked out on the street. In fact, no vehicles are on the street. I park, and nervously, I head to the door and ring the doorbell. After the way we parted last night, I don’t feel it’s appropriate for me to use my keys.

  The dogs don’t bark, but I can hear them sniffing. The door opens, and when Sophie answers, I am speechless. She stands with a sinister smirk on her face, wearing a formfitting red dress and patent black pumps. At the same time, Jonathan’s coming down the staircase, bareback, hair wet, looking freshly showered, and he slips a black T-shirt over his head. I feel the warmth drain from my body.

  “Jonathan’s not available,” she says. “We’ve had a very, very busy morning.”

  I look at him and quickly turn away, heading back to my car.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I hear him shout, and before I know it, he grabs my hand and tries to stop me.

  “Jada, wait.”

  “You’re busy,” I reply, pulling my hand away from his.

  “This is not what it looks like.”

  “No? Why is she here?”

  “She had an accident. She’s just a friend.”

  “What nice manipulative friends you have. You know what? Don’t bother, Jonathan. It’s none of my business. I’ll talk to you another time.”

  “Jada, please let me explain.”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation. Besides, we’re not really in a relationship, right?” My voice exudes sarcasm.

  “Jada…”

  “Get away from me.”

  I step into the car and drive away. I’m not sure that I necessarily walked in on anything, but what was she doing there in the first place? Is he still sleeping with her? Did he lie to me? I want to trust him, but after the last few months, it’s hard, even though, deep down, I don’t truly believe that anything was going on. What was I supposed to do there, anyway? Go in and have tea and crumpets with the two of them inside? I try to push the thought into the back of my mind and concentrate on driving home.

  What was I thinking? Sex complicates everything. Perhaps when I get home, I need to pack my things and disappear. I could use the tranquility of Big Sur.

  It’s late evening. Jonathan has called three times since I left his house. I’m not ready to deal with him yet, so I ignore his calls. My bags are packed in the car, and I’m about to start the ignition when my Johnnyphone rings again.

  “Hello,” I answer.

  “We need to talk,” he says.

  “I told you, you don’t owe me an explanation,” I say aloofly.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Why? You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I know what you’re doing… It’s not what you think. Sophie was involved in an accident, and she called me for help. I got covered with mud trying to get her out of a ditch. Before I went into town to drop her home, I wanted to shower first.”

  “Great. Feel better now?”

  “Jada, please don’t be like this. Trust me. Please. She’s just a friend. It was over months before I met you… it’s been nothing more.”

  “You have interesting taste in friends.”

  “Well, as of now that friendship is over.”

  “Not on account of me, I hope, and isn’t that what you said after she barged in on you at Lake Tahoe?”

  “I did. But we were friends for years. I didn’t want to turn my back on her when she called for help after an accident.”

  “That’s nice. Go back to her. Don’t allow me to interfere with your friendship.”

  “Jada, she tried to cause problems in our relationship. She knows how important you are to me. I called her a taxi and sent her home and told her not to ever call me again.”

  “That wasn’t necessary… You can be friends with whomever you want. You bare no allegiance to me. Who you choose to see or fuck is completely your business.”

  “Is that what you think? After all we’ve been through together, don’t you understand how I feel about you? I’m not interested in anyone else. I don’t want anyone else in my life… Why can’t you see that?”

  All my fears and insecurities run through my mind. I’m so scared that I’ll get hurt again. A part of me believes every word he says, the other part of me is stagnated by fear.

  “Jada, I know he hurt you, and I know he screwed with your mind, but you have to trust me.”

  I feel the burn in my eyes.

  “Jonathan, please be patient with me. I need some time. I’m going to Big Sur. I’ll call you sometime during the week.”

  “I don’t want you going there alone.”

  “Well, it’s not up to you. Is it?”

  “Jada, please, it’s not safe for you to be there alone.”

  I feel guilty. I don’t want to be selfish.
I don’t want him worrying about me.

  “I won’t be. The FBI is going with me,” I say softly.

  “Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t think so. After the last few months, I need some perspective, and I don’t think I can get that here. I have to go. I’ll call you sometime. Bye.”

  I end the call, and I’m about to back out of the parking spot when my regular phone rings. I glance at the screen.

  “Hi, Ian.”

  “Hey, Jada. You’re in town?”

  “For now, yes. If you’re calling me on a Saturday night, there must be a problem.”

  “There is. Can we meet on Monday morning?”

  “I was just heading out of town. Can you tell me what this is about over the phone?”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Can we meet somewhere tonight? Maybe you can come over to the penthouse.”

  “I would have, but I’m in San Diego with Michael at his family home for the weekend.”

  “Give me some clue what this is about.”

  “I think we might be looking for a new property manager for our L.A. property soon.”

  “Just great. Okay. I’ll be seeing you first thing Monday morning then. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

  I sigh, ending the call. I guess that means I’m stuck here for the weekend.

  It’s a lovely San Francisco morning, and I’m driving to work. Ten minutes into my drive, as I approach an intersection, I hear screeching tires. I have enough time to look to my right and all I see is a black truck heading straight for me. I try to swerve, but it’s too late.

  Chapter 11

  All I have time to do before I hear glass shatter and the sounds of crunching metal is press the button on my necklace.

  My head is pounding, and my eyes feel so heavy, I can’t open them. I hear many panicked voices. Then the sounds of sirens blare through the space, worsening my headache. My mouth is dry. I feel parched, and I wish I had the energy to say something, but I feel so weak. Too weak to open my eyes, too weak to open my mouth.

  I’m scared. I wonder if I’m going to die. I’m not ready to die. I’ve never felt so listless in my life. I still want more time with Jonathan, he means the world to me, and I want the chance to tell him that… Mommy and Bobby. God, please let me be okay. I feel so sleepy…

  * * *

  I’m exhausted after a weekend with very little sleep. I enter the courtroom and my cell phone vibrates. It’s Phillip. The judge walks in at that very moment, and the bailiff calls the court to order. I ignore the call, but within minutes, the phone vibrates again. This time it’s a text message. I scan the screen.

  Jada’s been involved in a nasty crash. She’s at SFMC. I think you should hurry.

  I am in such astonishment, the phone slips from my hand, making an explosive noise as it falls to the floor below. The back cover and battery fall apart, scattering across the terrazzo courtroom floor.

  “Mr. Kole, is there a problem?” the female judge asks.

  “Your Honor, may I approach?” I ask, quickly picking up the components and mounting them together.

  “Yes, you may.”

  After explaining the situation, she adjourns the case, but I’ll have to find someone to replace me. I rush out of the courtroom. On the way to the hospital, I call Phillip.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “She was on her way to her office, and someone hit her at an intersection.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She was unconscious when I got there. Her car is badly mangled. She was cut out of the vehicle. Her right wrist looked broken. After seeing the front of the car, I have no idea how her legs managed to be cut free.”

  “So she didn’t go to Big Sur this weekend?”

  “She got a call on Saturday night from her office and told me she’d leave this morning after a meeting instead.”

  “What did the other driver have to say?”

  Phillip pauses. My skin turns to ice.

  “It was a hit and run accident.”

  “Fuck!”

  “Look, Johnny. We’ll handle this. I’ll meet you at the hospital later.”

  “Fine… Phillip, please find who did this.”

  “We’re working on it.”

  After I end the call, I call Bobby to let him know, but his phone goes straight to voice mail. I ask him to call me back immediately.

  Thankfully, being the DA allows me special privileges. The doctors let me into the ICU to see her. They won’t discuss her injuries with me, but she looks pretty beaten up. Her wrist is in a cast, and she has a huge bruise at the side of her head. She’s still comatose.

  I sit by her side. I hope and pray.

  * * *

  I feel like I’ve been sleeping forever. It’s much quieter now, with the exception of the beeping of a machine and what sounds like air being pressed into something. I guess I’m in the hospital. Someone is holding my hand, maybe it’s Jonathan. I think I smell his cologne.

  “Jada, be strong… please be strong, Sweetheart. Wake up,” he says.

  I’m sure it’s him. I can hear his supportive words. His voice seems so edgy and worried. I want to let him know I can hear him. I try to open my eyes, but my efforts seem futile. I want to squeeze his hand, but I try with no results. I don’t want him to worry. I think I hear someone telling him he has to leave, but I want him to stay. I wish they would let him stay. I feel tired again…

  * * *

  They won’t allow me to stay with her while they run tests. I wish Bobby would call. The wait and not knowing any details about what’s wrong with her is agonizing. My phone rings. It’s Phillip.

  “What’s up?”

  “We found the vehicle that hit her. It was intentional. We found pictures of her and her car inside.”

  “Is this some kind of sick joke? Who would want to hurt her?”

  “It could be that person that called and threatened her.”

  “You say that like it’s someone new.”

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “The last day she was in Big Sur, someone called her and told her to watch her back or she might end up six feet under. We were able to trace the number, but it was from a prepaid phone that was purchased about five years ago. We found out yesterday it was purchased with cash, so we will never know who actually owns the phone.”

  “Fuck! Why didn’t she tell me about this?”

  “Maybe because you had just found out about your mom.”

  “Shit.”

  “Let me get back to work and see what we were able to find on the street cameras.”

  “Can you make arrangements to have her room guarded? I don’t want whoever did this to try to get to her in here.”

  “I’ll handle it. We’ll talk later.”

  “Sure.”

  My phone has been ringing nonstop. I barely recognize any of the numbers. A great number of them are reporters, so I know this will turn into another circus for the networks.

  By late evening, Bobby calls. He can’t get a flight tonight. He will be here sometime tomorrow.

  * * *

  “Sweetheart, please, please open your eyes,” he says.

  My head still hurts so badly, and my eyes seem so heavy but I fight… and fight… and eventually, I see his piercing greys. I try to keep them open, but the fluorescent lights above are so bright, they hurt. I’m not sure where I am; maybe I’m in my bedroom at home, but I’m not sure. This bed feels a little strange.

  “Jada, can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  I try to smile then I close my eyes. I feel so tired. I want to sleep.

  I open my eyes. It’s mostly dark, but there’s enough light for me to see Jonathan asleep on a nearby sofa. I look around me. It looks like I’m in a hospital. My head still hurts so badly, and my ears ring. I look down at my body, and I realize my right wrist is in a cast, and my l
eft ankle feels like it’s bandaged. I’m thirsty, but there’s no water nearby. There are flowers everywhere. I clear my throat. Jonathan opens his eyes.

  Smiling, he walks over to me.

  “Hey, Sweetheart. How do you feel?” he whispers, kissing my forehead.

  “I’m thirsty,” I murmur.

  “I’m so happy you’re awake,” he says, pressing a button on the remote then holding my hand.

  “What’s wrong with me? What happened?”

  “You’re going to be okay. You were in a car accident.”

  “My head hurts.”

  “You hit your head pretty hard. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a while. Your wrist is broken, and some damage has been done to your ankle.”

  I’m overwhelmed by his presence. He’s here. I didn’t ask him to be here, yet he is. I look into his eyes, and tears stream down the sides of my face.

  “Don’t cry, Baby. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “I’m sorry about this weekend,” I whisper.

  “I’m sorry too, but I don’t want you worrying about that now. Just focus on getting better.”

  A nurse enters the room.

  “She’s thirsty. Can she have some water, please?” Jonathan asks.

  “I have the worst headache I’ve ever had.”

  I realize my speech is slurred. I can’t get my words out as quickly as I’d like.

  “Nice to see you awake, Ms. McLean. A doctor will be here to check on you in a moment. She’ll give you something for that headache,” she says then exits the room.

  “Thank you for being here. Please tell Bobby not to worry.”

  “He’ll be here sometime tomorrow.”

  “Please stop him… it’s not necessary.”

  “We don’t need to discuss this now. I want you to get better.”

  The doctor comes in. She asks me some questions, checks some information on the computer screen nearby, checks my vitals, and then injects some medication.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Jonathan asks.

  “I’m on call tonight. The doctor overseeing her case will be here in the morning. His name is Dr. Dubois. For now, she’s stable.”