by J. D. Mason
CHAPTER TWELVE
There was a whole lot of sighing, avoiding eye contact, and radio blasting on the forty-minute drive back to the house. The tension was so thick between Farrah and Jackson that you could cut it with a knife. Of course, things had gone too far with that dance. She should’ve known better than to go through with it, but it was a great dance. Doing it with him, though, turned it into something else entirely.
As soon as Jackson pulled into the garage, Farrah bolted from the car and quickly went inside, and headed straight for the door through the kitchen leading out back.
“Whoa!” he called out behind her, grabbing her by the elbow to stop her. “Where do you think you’re going? We need to talk, Farrah.”
She pulled away from him. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
Jackson stepped between her and the door, folded his arms across his chest, and just stood there.
“Please get out of the way,” she said, frustrated.
“Why are we doing this? Why are we playing these games?” Jackson challenged.
“We’re not. So, please move.”
Jackson didn’t budge. “Tell me you don’t want to be with me.”
Did he really just say that? “What?”
“I need to hear you say it.”
Farrah didn’t appreciate being put on the spot like this. She was as frustrated as he was, and tonight didn’t help matters any, but Jackson was obviously too busy being blinded by his cock to understand this.
“Things got out of hand, Jackson. That’s it.”
“Oh, that’s it?” he responded sarcastically. “You call what happened between us tonight something that just got out of hand?”
Farrah glowered at him. “What is it that you’re expecting is supposed to happen here?”
“You know what’s supposed to happen.”
Farrah reared back and cocked a brow. “So, I’m supposed to do you, because you got worked up over a dance?”
“Why are you trying to mess this up?”
“Mess what up, Jackson?”
Jackson shook his head in dismay. “I’m trying here, Farrah. I’ve been trying since I saw you at that house. I’m giving it everything I’ve got. And you’re backpedaling.”
They were finally getting ready to have this conversation. They’d been dancing around it for so long, and Farrah had hoped that it wouldn’t ever have to come to this, but apparently, it did.
“Because there’s nothing here,” she finally told him. “There’s nothing between you and I but a friendship, Jackson. That’s all it’ll ever be.” The sting of her words showed in his eyes, though he’d never own up to the fact that she’d hurt him. “I’m not staying here. I told you that I was planning on leaving as soon as I saved up enough money and I meant that.” He’d been too good to her to just cut him down. Remorse swelled in Farrah like a wave. “I can never thank you enough for all the things you’ve done for me. But I’m not ready, Jackson. I’m a junk drawer inside. And before I can even think of having any kind of relationship with anybody, I have to clean that up.”
“Is that your excuse?” he said coldly. “How long you plan on falling back on that?”
She’d thought that of all people, Jackson understood. Apparently, she was wrong. Jackson had an agenda, one that wasn’t playing out in his favor, so now he had decided to throw a temper tantrum.
If he’d intended to insult her, he’d done a damn good job. “You have no idea of who I am or what I’ve been through.”
“Because you won’t tell me.”
“Because it’s none of your damn business!”
“Well, damn, Farrah,” he said irritably. “Which is it? Do you want me to understand you or do you want me to stay the fuck out of your business?”
“Both,” she said coolly. “Let’s be real, Jackson. Your dick is hard. And you want me to relieve you of a little pressure. I’m not your girl but there was a bar full of them that I’m sure would be happy to accommodate. If you hurry, you can get there before last call.” Farrah squeezed past him to get to the door. “Move.”
He eventually stepped aside to let her leave.
* * *
Farrah showered and crawled into bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. She was still tossing and turning long after the lights went out in Jackson’s house. She would’ve been lying to herself if she didn’t admit that she wanted to be in that house with him. But Farrah wished for a lot of things and learned all too well that sometimes, it’s best if wishes don’t come true. It wouldn’t be fair to him for the two of them to get involved. How come he couldn’t see that? The debris left behind from her life with Mateo was thick and funky, and no, she wasn’t all right. She couldn’t just snap out of it and get on with her life, because she still didn’t know what that meant. And the last thing she wanted to do was to bring that garbage into any relationship.
She didn’t knowingly walk into an abusive relationship. Somehow, Farrah had woken up one day and realized that that’s where she was and she had no idea how she’d gotten there. But one thing was certain, she didn’t want to end up there again. And to make sure that that didn’t happen, she needed a clear head and a clean palette to work with.
In so many ways, Jackson’s actions mirrored Mateo’s. Jackson rescued people. He saved them, and gave them what they thought they needed to make them happy. Mateo had done the same thing. Only back then, different things made Farrah happy. Maybe Jackson wasn’t abusive, but abuse came in all kinds of forms: control, disrespect, humiliation. Or maybe he would never be any of those things, but it wasn’t him that worried her so much as it was herself.
Farrah had never really had to take care of herself. She’d left her parents’ house, landed in Tucson, and waited tables until Mateo magically appeared and carried her off into the sunset. Even now, she depended on Jackson for a place to live. He’d insisted that she not pay to rent out the carriage house, so all she had to do was buy food, clothes, and keep gas in that expensive car of hers. She couldn’t stay here. And after tonight, she knew that her plans were definitely going to have to change. Farrah had hoped to work for another six months before finally leaving Blink, but she couldn’t do that to Jackson. He didn’t deserve the stress that came with having her around, and she couldn’t do it to herself, because he was so tempting.
The easiest thing in the world for her to do would be to curl up underneath him and let him handle every bad thing that came their way, because he was good at that. Farrah could be the dutiful little woman, feeding him and sexing him to his heart’s content, and wait for Jackson to deal with the fallout that would ultimately come from her relationship with Mateo. As tough as Jackson was, she knew that he was no match for Mateo, because where Jackson was good, Mateo was the mirror opposite. Jackson had a conscience. Mateo didn’t know the meaning of the word. She hadn’t seen him kill people, or even talk about it, but Farrah understood the nuances of him, and of his life. She understood what he was capable of even if he never came out and said it.
They had always had an unspeakable pact between them. She never asked. He never told. But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t read between the lines. That didn’t mean that he didn’t intend for her to.
“Men like me have more than our share of enemies, belleza. Even our friends can be enemies. But we never let on that we know who is who. Not to their faces. Because, like them, I am a friend, and I am an enemy to many.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When the dick starts talking, the brain shuts down. It’s physics. Jackson wouldn’t say that he’d blown it with Farrah, exactly, but yeah. He’d probably blown it. The truth had to come out, though. She was running and hiding behind the wall of her past and wasn’t even thinking about letting a brotha in. And no. That shit wasn’t fair at all. But life wasn’t fair. Jackson knew better than to push her and he’d pushed for all the wrong reasons. He knew where he stood with her now. And if Farrah wanted him to be her buddy then that’s what he’d be, because really, what choic
e did he have?
Jackson had just stepped out of the shower when the phone rang. “This is Jackson,” he answered.
“I don’t know how you pulled it off, man, but I’m glad you did.” It was Alvin, his former agent, sounding like he’d just won the lottery.
“What’re you talking about, man?”
Alvin took a deep breath. “What do you mean what am I talking about? I’m talking about how you managed to get the University of Texas’ coaching staff’s panties all in a bunch.”
Jackson had no idea what he meant by that. “If their panties are in a bunch, it’s got nothing to do with me,” he said, sitting down on the side of the bed.
Alvin laughed. “Okay, so then what the hell is up with that resume package you sent them if it’s got nothing to do with you?”
“What package, man? I never sent—” Farrah.
“Whatever you put in it has got them rubbing their hands and smacking their lips like they’re about to bite into a big, juicy rib eye, in anticipation of you coming down for a face-to-face meeting.”
“A meeting?” he asked, stunned. “You mean an interview.”
“If you want to call it that,” Alvin said, “but word on the street is that you’re the only cat they’re interested in talking to right now.”
Jackson’s heart raced. “You’re not shitting me?”
“You know me, man. Do I even remotely have a sense of humor?”
“No.”
“Then you need to get your ass down here to talk to these people.”
“When?”
“They want to see you the day after tomorrow. Can you make it work?”
“The day after tomorrow?” He broke out in a sweat all of a sudden and made a mental note to take another shower. “Uh…”
“Say yes!”
“Yeah, Alvin,” he said reluctantly. “What time?”
“One. That’ll give you plenty of time to get here, get settled, and to get over to the offices.”
Jackson took a deep breath. “I’ll be there at one.”
He must’ve stood in that shower for a second time for half an hour, trying to let that phone call sink in. Honestly, Jackson hadn’t been giving much thought to that position in the last few weeks, since he’d spoken to Farrah about it. He’d been so busy with the football camp this summer, and with his obsession for her, that the assistant coaching job in Austin had become a non-issue. Now, all of a sudden, Jackson had an interview for the second biggest opportunity of his life. In two days, he’d be leaving for Austin and he had Farrah to thank for it.
* * *
Jackson was surprised that she’d even answered the door when he knocked. She still looked pissed at him, though.
“I uh … got a call about that job in Austin.”
“Really?” she asked, suddenly looking interested.
“I didn’t know you’d sent the package. I didn’t know it was ready. I thought I needed to take a picture first.”
“I found one on the community college website,” she said indifferently. “It looked good enough.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d sent it off?”
Farrah contemplated his question before responding. “Because I didn’t want you to talk me out of sending it off,” she finally admitted.
“I wouldn’t have.”
“You might’ve.” Her honey brown eyes twinkled as she smiled.
Relief set in.
“Well, I’ve got an interview day after tomorrow.”
“That’s amazing, Jackson. I’m happy for you.”
“But it would help if I could see what you sent them, Farrah.”
“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that would probably help.” She turned and left him standing at the door, then came back with a really nice-looking binder. “I made an extra copy,” she said, holding it out to him. “What time’s your interview?”
“One.”
“Nervous?”
“Do I look nervous?” he asked, smiling.
She nodded. “A little, but you’ll be fine. Let me know how it goes when you get back.”
That’s when he remembered that phone call he’d gotten a few days ago from someone asking for Farrah. Suddenly, the idea of leaving her here, alone, carved a chunk out of his chest.
“Come with me,” he blurted out, before he’d even realized it.
Of course, Farrah looked stunned, and then defensive. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
No, it was a great idea. If anything happened to her while he was out of town, he’d never forgive himself. Jackson needed to somehow make this work.
“I could use some moral support, Farrah, and you’re the reason I’m going down there in the first place,” he reasoned, hoping that it would be enough and that he could leave it at that.
Jackson wasn’t holding out hope anymore that she wanted to stay in Blink, with him. If leaving was what she felt she needed to do, then he had no right to stop her. But he didn’t want her to be afraid either. Farrah wasn’t ready to go yet. She needed more time to save more money. If she left now, she’d be less prepared than she should be. He reasoned all of this out in his head in a matter of seconds, hoping that his rationale was valid.
“After what happened last night—”
“I won’t bring it up if you don’t,” he interrupted. “It’s a five-and-a-half-hour drive from here to there, and I could use the company.”
She stared at him, skeptically.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he finally said. “I messed up. I won’t ever put my hands on you again, and even if I think about it, I’ll keep my nasty thoughts to myself. You’ll never have to hear about them.”
Despite her best efforts not to, Farrah laughed. “I’ll keep my nasty thoughts to myself too.”
She had nasty thoughts too? About him? Why’d she have to say anything?
“Does that mean you’ll ride down with me?”
She hesitated. “Are we staying overnight?”
He hadn’t given it any thought until now. His interview was at one, and depending on how long it lasted, staying over might be a good idea. “We probably should.”
“Separate rooms.”
He nodded introspectively, shading his disappointment. “No problem.”
“What time do we leave?”
* * *
Jackson walked back to the house, relieved that she’d agreed to go. Maybe he was being overly paranoid, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. He sat down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, and opened up the package she’d put together for him. Farrah had done an excellent job. The package looked professional and if there weren’t any mistakes, he couldn’t find even one. She’d even included clippings from the newspapers from his football career, going all the way back to high school. What shocked him most was the fact that she included clippings of his arrests and suspensions, and ultimately, his release.
“They saw this shit?” he muttered in disgust.
Why the hell would she do that? He turned a few more pages and finally came to what amounted to letters of recommendation from John Brewer, the county’s district attorney and Randall Brewer, his brother, the mayor, both citing Jackson’s courage, his determination to rebuild his life, the lessons he’d learned from his mistakes as a young man, and how he was passing on those lessons and experiences to other young men.
They made him sound like his ass could walk on water. Jackson closed the binder, leaned back, and made a mental note to stop being ashamed of his failures, and to put more energy into being proud of his accomplishments. If he was going to win this position, then he couldn’t walk into that interview looking like a whipped, wet dog. He needed to walk in there looking like he was doing those sonsofbitches a favor by even considering taking their position.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jackson kept his promise. The two of them drove to Austin without saying one wrong thing to each other. Farrah actually enjoyed it. The arrived at the hotel, and Jackson paid for two rooms, even though s
he’d insisted on paying for her own.
“Nah. Save your money, Farrah. You need it.”
She waited in the hotel until he finished his interview, which lasted nearly three hours. The two of them went out to eat, and he didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so she didn’t press him. Later, they went back to their rooms, slept, and got up early the next day for the return trip home. Farrah had tried to discern his mood, but he wasn’t making it easy.
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” she asked as he drove.
He shrugged. “Not much to say.”
“You were there for three hours, Jackson. Can you at least tell me how you think it went?”
He was contemplative before responding. “I think it went well.”
So, how come she wasn’t convinced?
When they finally arrived back home, he immediately went upstairs, and Farrah went out to the carriage house, no closer to knowing what had happened in that interview than she was before they’d even left for the trip.
* * *
Belleza. It’s time to come home. I will see you soon.
The chilling message on her voice mail when she showed up at work the next morning unnerved Farrah to the core. She’d tried not to make the mistake of becoming complacent, but that’s exactly what Farrah had done, and Mateo hadn’t given up on her after all. Farrah had come to relish the feeling of not having him in her life, hovering over her, lurking around the shadows, always watching her. But Mateo’s phone call reminded her of two very important things. He was always there. Always watching her.
Farrah spent the rest of the day going through the motions on autopilot. She couldn’t escape the sullen, sinking feeling growing inside her. He knew where she was. Mateo had probably known since she’d left where she’d go. He’d only waited to come for her because he liked the game, of making her believe that she was free and safe. Farrah felt like the small, helpless rodent, being swooped down upon by the hawk it never saw coming. Mateo enjoyed toying with her.
