Starcrossed Hearts

by Star Crossed Hearts (lit)

  Jessica smiled softly. "Yes, I did."

  "Ever wonder how things would have turned out if you had married Dane?"

  "Dane never asked me, for one thing. But if he had, and if I had been insane enough to consent, he would have tossed me aside the minute the vows were spoken."

  "You really believe that?"

  "Most of what attracts Dane Pierce is the chase. The conquest is anti-climactic for him. I know that, now."

  "I think he’s still in love with you."

  Jessica turned a shocked face toward Roxie. Before she could respond, Roxie continued. "And I also think that’s why he proposed to Jackie. He’s gotten himself into a bad situation with her; I don’t think he expected her to be the bitch you and I both know she can be. And, I think that bruise on her face came from Dane’s fist."

  "Roxie!" Jessica exclaimed, startling Devon from his drowsy state.

  "Come on, Jess, are you blind to the way he looks at you? I wouldn’t let him in this house if I were Mac."

  "I can’t believe you’re saying these things. Dane and I are friends, good friends. And we care a lot about each another. Mac understands that now, and so should you. It hurts me that you could think that way."

  But despite the strong words, Jessica’s face showed doubt. Lifting Devon to her shoulder, she amended her attitude. "I’m sorry you feel like that. Does Tom feel that way, too?"

  "I don’t know. We don’t discuss it."

  "I’ll bet you do discuss it. You two discuss everything. Does Tom think there’s something going on between Dane and me?"

  "He’s only said he worries about Mac’s tolerance of the situation. He doesn’t want it to happen again."

  "Mac will never leave me again, if that’s what you mean. He will never have reason to; and I’ll stake my life on that."

  "You mean you’d stake your life on trusting Dane not to do it again? Because, forgive me Jess, I’ll bet he does. The ‘chase’ as you put it, is still on for Dane. And maybe that’s why he’s so buddy-buddy with your husband. He’ll never marry Jackie. He never intended to." Roxie turned her back and went to peer out the back windows before continuing. "Please don’t be mad at me. It’s only because I love you that I said anything. I’m sorry."

  Devon had fallen asleep, and Jessica carried him to the bassinet across the room, tenderly laying him down and covering him. Now she crossed to Roxanne and stood beside her friend, silent tears gliding down hers cheeks. Tears brimmed in Roxanne’s eyes also, and she embraced Jessica tightly.

  Again the phone rang, disturbing the quiet. Jessica hastily ran the back of her hand across her eyes, glanced at Devon’s sleeping form and reached for the phone.

  "Hello?"

  "I know you’re alone, Jessica." A husky, whispered voice said. Instant terror coursed throughout Jessica’s body as the voice went on. "He won’t be back tonight. Better lock the door, Jessica." A dial tone followed.

  Jessica’s eyes were wide with fright.

  "What is it?" Roxie demanded.

  "Oh my God," Jessica managed, slowly hanging up the phone and dropping to the couch.

  "Jess?"

  "He said…he knows we’re alone. Said I’d better lock the door."

  "Who said that? Who was it?"

  "I don’t know."

  ~ * ~

  She was wearing a short, sleeveless, Japanese silk dress of fuchsia. Her black hair hung nearly to her waist, gleaming, swinging as she sashayed into the room, gray eyes perusing the crowded club, seeking only one.

  Tom spied her first, nudging Mac as they walked back from the telephone. "Look."

  Mac’s eyes followed Tom’s gaze, and a groan emanated from his chest. Jackie Spencer had just entered the club, dressed to kill and possibly looking to do just that. Looking for Dane Pierce.

  Dane was feeling no remorse. The girl, now revealed as Tina, had pushed a chair in beside him and seemed almost adhered to his side. With one arm around her, the other held a fresh glass of whiskey and a lit cigarette.

  "Oh, shit," Mac muttered. "Can we rescue him?"

  "We should at least try. You intercept Jackie and I’ll see what I can do with Dane."

  "No. You intercept Jackie. I’ll warn him. Try…kissing her."

  "Huh?" Tom puzzled as Mac walked away.

  Mac hurried over to the table, his own head dizzy and reeling. "Dane. Get up, man."

  Dane looked up at him, his eyes remarkably keen after the enormous amount of liquor he’d imbibed.

  "MacKendall! I thought you’d split."

  "Dane, listen, man." Mac bent to whisper into Dane’s ear. "Jackie’s here. Maybe you should…take a walk or something."

  "Jackie? Here? So what?"

  "Dane--"

  "Fuck Jackie, Mac. Ha! She’d like that, wouldn’t she?" Dane laughed out loud, then took a long drag on the cigarette.

  Determined, Mac tried again. "You trying to kill yourself, man? What’s this shit about?" Deftly he grabbed the cigarette from Dane’s fingers and put it out in the ashtray.

  "Who’s Jackie?" Tina purred, her lips delicately enticing Dane’s ear.

  It was at this moment that Jackie appeared at the table. Behind her, Tom shrugged regrets at his failure to detain her, and Mac sighed in despair.

  Tina fell away from him as he stood to face Jackie, her icy gaze seeming to freeze everyone at the table.

  "I’m Jackie," she stated clearly, her eyes now scathing as she gave Tina the once over.

  "My…fiancée." Dane’s voice held a mock affection not lost on those who knew him. "Hello, Jacqueline."

  The moment was more than tense as they locked eyes and no one made a move. Mac’s stomach burned as he stood beside Dane, deciding the picture could have only been more complete if Jackie had held a pearl-handled Colt pistol aimed at Dane.

  Dane took a step towards her, and Mac took one back. Slipping his hands around Jackie’s slender waist, Dane bent to press his lips hard against hers, kissing her lustily before the group of mesmerized onlookers until she was fighting for air and pushing him away.

  "Damn it, Dane," she spat, touching her bruised lips, her face contorted in anger.

  Suddenly Sal stood up and walked around the table to where Tina stood, an entranced, if hurt, expression on her young face.

  "Dance with me, Tina," he offered, pulling her toward the dance floor and taking the edge off the tension that had built.

  "Waiter!" Steve called, beckoning to the young man who had also been watching the scene unfold between Dane and Jackie. Mac sat down and finished his drink, shaking his head again at Tom who returned a defeated look.

  Having lost his audience, Dane released his grip on Jackie and sat down. "Have a seat, my dear. Now that you’re here, you might as well share yourself with us."

  Steve ordered, and looked expectantly at the others. "Anybody?"

  "Mac needs another drink," Dane replied, "and so do I. And bring…the lady…a Long Island Tea."

  "Right, Mr. Pierce."

  Jackie sat in the chair vacated by Tina. "Dane, come home with me." Jackie slid her long, hot pink nails up his arm to his shoulder. "Please?"

  "Home is not where I want to be. You can go if you want."

  "Dane, come on…I’ll make it worth it. You don’t need these cheap sluts! They’re just groupies, they don’t care about you the way I do…" Pushing closer to him, she pressed her hand to the inside of Dane’s thigh and up his leg.

  "Yeah, well you’ve got a hell of a way of showing you care, baby. You think I’ve forgotten your little stunt with my best friend, here? In fact, you might be able to have him now, he’s almost drunk enough."

  "Dane, that’s enough," Mac announced. "You’re crocked. Let it rest, okay? Jackie, I’ll get you a cab."

  "No, Mac. Thank you." Jackie’s face was pale. "I have my car, but I’m not leaving yet."

  "It might be a good idea, Jackie," Tom put in, leaning forward across the table. "Maybe talk this out tomorrow."

  "It’s always tomorrow
. No. Dane, come home with me now."

  Dane looked at her with eyes of steel. "You don’t seem to understand. I’m not going anywhere. Let’s just forget this all happened, you go, I’ll stay, tomorrow we’ll…work things out. Okay?"

  The waiter set the tall "iced tea" in front of Jackie, and without hesitation, she picked it up and sipped a third of it down, then promptly dumped the balance onto Dane’s crotch and stood up.

  Lightning fast, he was on his feet and had grasped her arm in a vice-like grip, his face white with rage. Simultaneously, both Mac and Tom stood, their posture defensive on Jackie’s behalf.

  The dangerous smile broke on Dane’s face.

  "This isn’t ‘Simon Says’, boys. I’m just going to walk the little lady to her car. And I don’t need any Boy Scouts to walk me back."

  Firmly Dane ushered Jackie out the front door. Tom sat down, but Mac remained standing, nervously wondering if he should follow them when he noticed a bouncer at the door subtly nodding at him before trailing Dane out the door.

  The video screens surrounding the bar suddenly lit with the view of Times Square in New York, and a digital clock in the corner of the screen ticked off the last remaining ten seconds of the year. Amid the din of New Year’s revelers, Mac lifted his glass against Tom’s and Steve’s, and the three sat back to mull over the evening’s events. Mac suddenly wished he was home with Jessica, toasting with her before the fire.

  The bouncer was back and nodding in Mac’s direction, Mac gratefully returning the gesture just as Dane returned to the club. Wordlessly he rejoined the group and sighed.

  "My apologies to everyone. We obviously have a few things to work out," he said at last, his face dark and brooding.

  Relieved and feeling bold, Mac turned a critical eye on Dane, whom, he now noticed, bore a fresh scratch on his cheek.

  "You could save yourself a lot of grief if you just admit you made a big mistake. Break it off, man."

  "Thanks, Doc, I’ll remember that."

  "I mean it, Dane, somebody’s going to get hurt. Just tell her--"

  "Save it, Mac. I already got hurt." Gingerly he touched his cheek. "People sure do get off on beating on me, ever notice that?"

  "That’s because you get off on pissing people off, my friend." Mac sipped his drink, now feeling melancholy.

  Dane’s face took on an amused expression as he peered thoughtfully at Mac, now leaning over his forth margarita. On a whim, Dane reached over and touched Mac’s hair, tugging on one of the longer locks hanging below his jacket collar.

  "We could braid it, I suppose."

  "Fuck you, Pierce."

  ~ * ~

  Jessica snapped awake from a fitful sleep and rolled quickly out of bed. The clock radio read five o’clock and she went to the bassinet to check on Devon, who hadn’t awakened at three as she’d expected; her breasts were painfully full. Finding him sleeping peacefully, she tiptoed out to hall and across to the other side of the house to peek in on Megan.

  The little girl was curled into a ball, uncovered and cold. Carefully Jessica covered her and tucked the comforter around her. Going to the kitchen, she decided there would be no more sleep for her and started a pot of coffee. By the time she returned to the bedroom, Devon was fussing to be fed and she gladly spent thirty drowsy minutes nursing the infant before putting him back down to sleep again.

  She assumed the men had crashed at Tom’s after their night out and would probably get breakfast together at some point this morning. It had seemed like a fine idea when they had left, promising that none would drive under the influence. Now she wished Mac had come home instead.

  After showering and dressing, Jessica went out the front door to retrieve the newspaper and to get a breath of the new year. The terror of the crank phone call had faded, and she decided she would get their number changed. No reason to worry Mac about it.

  The sun was bright, the air crisp and clean. The newspaper was near the garage, and she trotted over to pick it up. As she bent to get it, she noticed the side door to the garage stood wide open, and she frowned in concern. It wasn’t like Mac to miss closing the garage door. Walking to the door, she peeked in, only to suffer an overwhelming flashback of the night she’d found her cabin vandalized and had been abducted by her ex-husband, Wesley Elliot.

  The garage appeared normal at first glance; the old Ford truck on the far end, the Miata, covered and parked in the middle, and the new silver Volvo closest to the house. Taking a closer look, she saw the glass; piles of it, all around the Volvo as every window in the car had been smashed out. And all four tires had been slashed. Afraid to go farther to inspect the other vehicles, she turned and ran, heart pounding, back to the house.

  Her first inclination was to run screaming into Roxie’s room. Instead, after carefully locking the front door, she stopped in the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee with trembling fingers. It would do no good to panic Roxie, wake the children and create more problems. She would just sit and wait until Mac came home.

  Part Ten: Families Torn

  Twenty-One

  Sibling

  Jessica paced the family room, trying to quiet Devon while Mac sat at the kitchen table with two policemen, leaning against his hands, his fingers buried in his hair.

  "And approximately what time did the phone call come in?"

  "Jessie?" Mac hollered, his voice weary and irritated.

  "Around eleven thirty I think?" she called back over the baby’s sporadic cries.

  "Thanks, Mr. MacKendall. We’ll be in touch. Call us if anything else…unusual occurs."

  "Right. Thank you."

  Mac ushered the two to the door, then leaned tiredly against it. He could hear Jessica humming softly to Devon in the back room. His mind spinning, he closed his eyes briefly.

  "One thing at a time," he murmured, then took a deep breath before joining his wife.

  Going to her, he encircled both Jessica and the baby in his arms, kissing her forehead softly. He couldn’t shake the vision of her terror-filled eyes when he’d returned home two hours before. Still pale and weak from childbirth, Jessica, he knew, was putting up a good front; but he also knew she was relying upon his strength now.

  "Everything will be okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you again." His voice was low but committed. Jessica flashed him a loving smile.

  "I need to clean up," he said, now unbuttoning his shirt and moving toward the hall.

  "Bet you’re hungry," she called after him, and Mac turned with a grateful smile.

  "Starved. You wouldn’t be thinking about throwing together some lunch, would you?"

  "I might be thinking about it," she teased, settling Devon into his infant seat and carrying it with her into the kitchen.

  ~ * ~

  "So Dane walked her to the car?"

  "Yeah. It was a…tense moment, at least for me. I kept having these visions that she was going to off him or something. It was like a scene from some movie, she was the scorned lover, and this other little gal he was carrying on with, she was terrified…and I kept waiting for Jackie to pull out a gun. It was bizarre."

  "He would have probably deserved it, flirting around like that."

  "I thought so too, but the more I think about it now, Jackie’s one weird chick. Maybe she brought this on herself, what do you think? You know her better than I do." Mac stuffed the last of his second sandwich into his mouth.

  "You know, when she called last night to say she wasn’t coming, she sounded strange. I just figured she was depressed about Dane leaving her home. She never mentioned she was going out."

  "She wouldn’t tell you, of all people. When is Roxie bringing Megan back?"

  "She’s keeping her all day. They went to Pasadena to look at the floats, then they’re picking up Tom and going to look at homes in Malibu."

  "Damn, the Rose Parade! I’ve already forgotten it’s New Year’s Day." Mac paused, then grasped Jessica’s hand. "Let’s go somewhere. I need to get away from here."

>   "What about Devon?"

  "Bundle him up. He’s going to be doing a lot of traveling, he might as well get used to it. We need to talk, and I can’t talk here. Not today."

  Ninety minutes later they were in the air and flying north. The first day of January was clear and cool, and below them the Pacific Ocean glistened like turquoise gel. Devon was wakeful but did not cry during the flight. Mac felt as though the Cessna was carrying him away from the problems he’d left at the house, and his mind seemed to clear as he put the situation into perspective.

  At the small airport in Santa Barbara, Mac tied the plane down and turned to Jessica with a smile.

  "Been just over a year since we did this, remember?"

  "I’ll never forget it."

  He borrowed a car from the owner of the nearby bar and grill, for whom he’d signed autographs in the past; Devon’s car seat was strapped firmly into the backseat of the convertible Mustang, and they were off to the mountains of Montecito with blankets and diaper bag in tow.

  As they lay together on the blanket, Mac was temporarily at peace. Nothing could touch them here, no one could harass or molest them. Both he and Jessica needed desperately to feel safe and secure, impossible now at home. And all the while, his mind was working, planning, filtering through the painful events of the past week. Lying on his back, eyes squinting toward the sky and Jessica snuggled against his shoulder, Mac finally spoke.

  "It was one year ago today that I moved into your funky little house."

  "Roxie and I were just talking about last New Year’s Eve. What a disaster."

  "That was a tough time for me. That night I slept on your couch, I decided I wasn’t going to see you again. It was such a hard decision, and then you went and invited me to stay. I didn’t want to do it because I was afraid we couldn’t be just friends."

  "You were wrong."

  "Not entirely. We were great at being friends, but I wasn’t great at not falling in love with you anyway." Mac chuckled. "And then, that morning I woke up in your bed, Gees! I knew how Dumbo must have felt when he woke up in that tree." He turned to peer into her eyes, still smiling. "Like, what did I do to get here? How can I get here again? Can I really fly?"