Hart Breaker

by J. D. Mason

  “Why the hell should I give a fuck about them?”

  “She’s my mother,” Farrah retorted.

  “She’s not my goddamn mother!”

  Farrah tried to leave anyway. “Fuck you, Mateo! I’m not asking for your permission to go and see my own mother!”

  He hit her from behind as she was walking away. Farrah came to with him grabbing a handful of her hair, her skirt hiked up around her waist, and Mateo fucking her from behind.

  Her mother passed away a few days later.

  “I wanted to come,” she said more to herself than to Nate. “I tried.”

  “Yeah, whatever, Farrah,” he said dismissively. “Look, I can send you some money, but we don’t have room.”

  Nate and his wife had two kids. Two kids she didn’t even know.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, defeated. “I’m so sorry for everything, Nate.”

  “I’m sorry too. Like I said, I can send you a little—”

  Farrah hung up the phone.

  * * *

  An hour later, she was at the cemetery, searching for the gravesites of her parents. The longer she searched, the more panicked she began to feel. Emotions began to build inside her like a tidal wave, threatening to burst her wide open. The need to find them was overwhelming and almost too much to bear. Farrah anxiously walked down row after row, reading each headstone, looking for her mother and father as if her life depended on it. They had to be here!

  Finally, she saw her father’s headstone.

  Melvin Hart

  Loving Husband, Father, Brother, and Son

  November 9, 1941–January 27, 2008

  Next to him was her mother.

  Lucinda Hart

  Love Eternal

  March 22, 1947–August 7, 2011

  Farrah fell to her knees and wept. She had lost so much in her selfishness. How could she not have been there for them when they needed her? How could she let Mateo or anyone keep her from the people she loved most in the world? She was a fool! Believing that they would always be there for her, when she was ready, when she needed them, but she’d failed her parents and she’d failed Nate, and she’d failed herself.

  Everything that Mateo had ever done to her, she deserved. Farrah couldn’t even hate him because she’d handed herself over to him like a prize. It was never him she loved, but she’d lied to herself time and time again, until she’d made herself believe that shit. It wasn’t Mateo. It was his money. She loved the things he bought for her, the places he took her to. She was his property just like his cars and his houses and his art collection.

  Farrah had no one to blame but herself. She’d put herself in the position of being helpless and that’s what she’d become. Even now, she couldn’t even afford to buy a fucking value meal. For the last twenty years, she’d let herself become soft and docile and helpless. And she was afraid. Afraid that he’d find her and take her back to Arizona and put her back in that cage again.

  She couldn’t let that happen. Farrah had put herself in that situation and she’d paid dearly for it, but she was out now. And she couldn’t go back. She couldn’t continue to be that same hapless and helpless woman she’d been since she’d graduated high school. Farrah dried her eyes, and made a promise to herself. Shit. She wasn’t dead. Not yet. And Farrah was free of Mateo now. She needed to make sure that she stayed free of him. He was cunning. And if he was determined enough, he might be able to find her here. He never truly knew where she was from because Farrah had never told him. He’d asked her once, that she could remember.

  “I’m from a town so small that if you blinked, you’d miss it,” she’d joked. It was what people from here said to other people who didn’t live here.

  He knew that her parents lived in Texas. But would he ever put the two together? She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know. Farrah couldn’t stay here long. She couldn’t risk Mateo coming after her. But she needed money, enough to get out of here and disappear.

  Farrah stood up, stared down at her parents’ headstones one last time, and remembered how strong they’d always been, and how supportive.

  “You can always come home, Farrah,” her mother had told her before she got sick when Farrah had snuck and called her once. “I don’t care what’s happened. You know we’re here.”

  Foolish Farrah, she’d nicknamed herself. But just because she’d been that Farrah for twenty years didn’t mean she had to stay that woman. Farrah turned and headed back to the car, stopped, stared at it, and wondered how much she could get for it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jackson had to try and shake the residue of that woman. For the last three days, he’d tried to do the right thing by staying away from her for her sake and for his. Growing up, Farrah Hart had been a walking, talking wet dream for Jackson, and the very notion that he’d had that woman in his arms, about to pin her to the mattress was mind-boggling. What was even crazier was the fact that he’d had the presence of mind and the willpower to walk away like he did, but he knew he’d never forgive himself for it.

  Jackson was in the kitchen getting a soda when he heard the tap on the door in the kitchen leading out to the backyard. Farrah came inside.

  “Hey.”

  He still couldn’t get past the hair, or the lack thereof. Farrah had always worn her hair long, and to see it gone now, made her look like somebody else. But she made it work. Farrah stepped inside wearing the jeans he’d bought her, which were a little too big, but that wasn’t a bad thing, and the white tank top he’d seen her in the other night. This time, though, she had a bra on underneath it.

  Breathe, man. Don’t just stand here looking dumb.

  “Hey,” he said back.

  Farrah had a newspaper in her hand. “I borrowed this.”

  Was it him, or was the air getting a little thick all of a sudden?

  She nervously cleared her throat. “I was job hunting, believe it or not.” She sort of smiled.

  He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Job hunting.”

  “I know. Right?” She said it as if he’d sounded surprised that she was trying to find work. And … he was.

  “Find anything?”

  “Not too many things I’m qualified for,” she sheepishly admitted. “The last job I had was twenty years ago, waiting tables.”

  Jackson didn’t know what to say to that. He wanted to ask her what the hell she’d been doing all this time if she hadn’t been working, but he pulled out a bit of his common sense, thought about that car she’d driven into town and those expensive-looking shoes and dress that he’d found in the trash can, and figured that she hadn’t needed to work.

  “Anyway, um … I saw a position about a job at the community college working in the front office as a receptionist and file clerk. Do you know anybody who works in the front office?”

  She knew he coached there.

  He nodded. “Yeah. I know a few people.”

  Farrah stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “You’ve done so much for me already, Jackson, and I don’t think that I could ever thank you enough.”

  You almost did, the other night. That would’ve been plenty.

  “You want me to talk to some people?”

  Her eyes lit up, and his knees nearly buckled out from under him. “Would you mind? I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it.”

  “No. I’ll talk to them tomorrow as a matter of fact. Rose is the office manager.”

  “The two of you are good friends?” she asked, hopeful.

  Rose hated him. “Yeah. Good friends.”

  She nodded and smiled appreciatively.

  “I can’t promise you anything, Farrah,” he added.

  “I know. I know, but…” Farrah looked down at her feet, and then back up to him. “About the other night.”

  His chest tightened. “There’s nothing to say.”

  “There is, Jackson. I was so messed up.”

  “I get it.”

  “No, you don’t, but after everything
you’ve done for me, I owe you an explanation.” Farrah walked over to the kitchen table, pulled out a chair and sat down, and then waited for him to take a seat across from her. “I came back here because I had no place else to go. I’ve been living in Phoenix with a man I’ve known for twenty years.”

  That same weight she’d had on her when he first saw her again in that house was back.

  “You don’t owe me anything, Farrah. It’s none of my business.”

  Uncomfortable silence filled the space between them for several moments.

  She smiled at him. “You finally grew into that big head of yours,” she teased, changing the subject.

  He chuckled. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

  “How tall are you?”

  “Six-two.”

  “Do you remember that I used to babysit you and your sister?”

  “Nah,” he said, defiantly. “You didn’t babysit me. You babysat Melanie, but I was too old for a babysitter.”

  She laughed. “That’s what you thought, but your parents thought differently.”

  “Well, you can think what you want, but my ass was not being babysat by the woman of my dreams.”

  She blushed. “Is that what I was?”

  It’s what she still was, but he didn’t need to freak her out.

  “Yeah, and I hated that dude you were messing with too.”

  “Brian? Is he still in town?”

  “He is. And he’s fat. And short. Got about ten kids. No job. No teeth.”

  Farrah laughed. “You’re lying.”

  “I’ll take you to see him. You can usually find him sitting on his front porch in the morning wearing flip-flops on those big ashy feet of his, drinking, and reminiscing about you.”

  Farrah covered her face with her hands. “Ugh! Say it ain’t so.”

  “He’ll be glad to see you.”

  “How is Melanie? She’s got to be what? Twenty-five?”

  “She’s twenty-eight and is about to have her first kid,” he said, proudly.

  “Really? Oh my goodness. I can’t believe it.” Farrah frowned. “I feel so old.”

  “You’re not old,” he said, unexpectedly endearing.

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “You’ve got this big old house just for yourself? I’d think that a handsome man like you’d be all kinds of married.”

  “I was.”

  The smile left her face. “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened. We just realized that we weren’t right for each other. That’s all.” He hadn’t thought about Regina in years. “We got married not long after I got drafted.”

  “Drafted?” she asked, surprised.

  “Into the NFL.”

  “You played football?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled. “I played pro ball for three years.”

  “Oh my God, Jackson,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t know that. Who’d you play for?”

  “San Francisco.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  He shrugged. “In the beginning it was, but it didn’t end up being so damn wonderful.”

  “You get injured?”

  “I got high,” he begrudgingly confessed. “And I got drunk. And sometimes, I got drunk and high until one day, they terminated my contract and I ended up back here.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, sympathetically.

  He waved it off. “It was all me, Farrah. I thought I was ready but I wasn’t. The pressure got to me and damn near crushed me. I was a country boy trying to hang with the big boys, and I couldn’t handle it.”

  Farrah just shook her head.

  “I managed to put aside a little money, though,” he said. “Built this house, bought some land. I’m all right.”

  “You are.” She nodded in agreement. “I can attest to that.”

  “You’re gonna be all right too.”

  Farrah took a deep breath. “I’m still here, Jackson. I’m not dead and gone. It’s not going to be easy, but this is my second chance and I’m going to have to do something with it instead of wasting it.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I have to get a job first, save some money, pay you back.”

  “You don’t owe me.”

  Her expression changed and Jackson could almost see the wheels turning in that pretty head of hers.

  “Mateo might not come looking for me,” she said solemnly. “But then again, he might.”

  Mateo was the dude she was running from.

  “I’d like to leave here before he does come after me.”

  Disappointment washed over him. “You wouldn’t have to worry about that, Farrah. I don’t know this dude, but I wouldn’t let him anywhere near you.”

  She smiled. “You’re a good friend, Jackson. And I’d be a bad friend if I dragged you into my mess.”

  “I can handle it,” he said confidently.

  “I’m sure you can, but you shouldn’t have to.”

  * * *

  Farrah turned and waved back at him as she walked down the sidewalk back to the carriage house. He’d promised her that he’d talk to Rose about that job tomorrow. Jackson had wanted to tell her that Mateo’s ass wasn’t shit and that if his ass decided to show up here, he’d better bring an army with him because Jackson planned on stomping him into the ground as soon as he laid eyes on him. Farrah had made it clear that her plans were to leave Blink, Texas, all over again as soon as she was able.

  He closed the kitchen door and headed out of the kitchen. “You should’ve hit it when you had the chance, you old dog,” he muttered to himself.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Two months ago, Farrah lived in a twenty-two-thousand-square-foot house with her own walk-in closet the size of the whole downstairs level of Jackson’s place. She was being driven around town to fancy restaurants and exclusive clubs in the back of a limo, and had a running account with Saks, Neiman’s and Hermès. Whatever she wanted, all she had to do was ask for it and it appeared as if by magic. But with all that, Farrah didn’t have a damn thing and it took leaving everything behind to realize that.

  She made fifteen dollars an hour at the junior college, answering phones and maintaining files. Farrah hated the work but she was so grateful for the job that she would never think to complain. She hadn’t needed anything so much in her life the way she needed this job. Jackson thought she was moving too fast. He thought that she should take more time to figure out what she wanted and needed before just jumping in to start working so soon after leaving an abusive relationship, but he didn’t understand that time was not on her side.

  Is today going to be the day? That was the first thought that she had every single morning as soon as she opened her eyes. Is today going to be the day when Mateo finally jumps out of the bushes and grabs her like the boogeyman? Is today going to be the day when he shows up at her job and drags her out of the building by her hair like a caveman?

  “Maybe he’s not coming, Farrah,” Jackson had said once.

  Every now and then she’d thought the same thing. Maybe Mateo had had enough of her too, and maybe he’d moved on to one of those pretty girls he paraded around the city when she wasn’t with him. Maybe he’d moved on to a brand new toy and Farrah was just an afterthought. In a perfect world, yeah. That would’ve been the case. But she couldn’t shake the nagging shudder running up and down her spine that he was biding his time, and waiting for the right moment to step out of the shadows and snatch her back into her old life at the very moment when she had gotten complacent. Mateo was evil like that.

  Farrah had made up her mind to leave Blink, saving almost every penny that she made. If she didn’t want to keep looking over her shoulder all the time, then she needed to get as far away from him as possible, and to her, that meant leaving the country altogether. She’d found out that there were places in the United States where you could cross over into Canada without a passport. The only problem was that if she ever wanted to come back, she’d be
hard pressed to get back into the country without one, but she had no reason to come back. Farrah had nothing or no one to come back to.

  * * *

  “Get it together, Clark! He got past you again. That ain’t gonna work, man!”

  Jackson was always just starting football practice right as Farrah was getting off work and every now and then, she stopped for a few minutes to watch.

  Jackson stood on the sideline, schooling those boys, cheering them on, and getting in their faces when they messed up, looking more like their big, burly brother than their coach.

  Farrah took a seat in the bleachers. She’d heard that he was one of the best running backs to come out of college, and that he should’ve won the Heisman, but lost out to some quarterback. He’d had a huge head as a kid. So big that she used to think something might be wrong with him, but he’d grown into it nicely. And that smile … Jackson had a smile bigger than he was. It was the craziest thing she’d ever seen, but now it captivated her. He’d told her that he’d had a crush on her growing up, but now it was her turn to have a little crush, and it was nice.

  He was six-two, two-hundred-twenty pounds of muscle. Even in those baggy sweats that he wore during practice, it was impossible to miss shoulders as broad as she was tall.

  “Move! Go! Go! Go!” he yelled to one of his players on the field. “Way to go, Drew! Good job, man!”

  He’d done so much for her. Jackson was a beautiful man who’d come to her rescue and literally saved her life. So, was it any wonder that she had feelings for him? Love? Gratitude. Farrah was old enough to know the difference. That night she’d kissed him was all a blur, and even to this day, she was embarrassed by how she’d acted, but back then, she’d been so caught up in a whirlwind of emotion that she just lost control of herself, and she’d made the mistake of losing it all over him when she shouldn’t have.

  He felt so good, though. Strong. Warm. Jackson’s lips were pillow soft, and his touch …

  Stop it, Farrah!

  There was that crush thing again, rearing its ugly head. She’d babysat that boy. It was sinful to even think of trespassing on a history like that. Especially when she knew that it could never go anywhere. Farrah wasn’t staying here, and even if she did, Jackson was her friend and she needed a friendship so much more than another lover now.