Saving Jenna

by Christina Butrum

  As though Gunner the second could sense his unease, he nudged his hand to let Ian know he was by his side. Ian knew this dog wasn’t going anywhere. “I know, bud,” he said, brushing a reassuring hand through the dog’s thick coat of black fur.

  “Then you need to do something about it,” Todd said, interrupting Ian’s moment with his dog. “If you can prove to her how stupid you were and how much you’ve always loved her, then she might just forgive you.”

  “She knows how stupid I was,” Ian said, almost betting himself she would never forget either.

  Chugging the last of his beer, he tossed another empty bottle in the direction of the barrel and stood up. More projects with this house waited to be dealt with long enough. This week was the week shit was getting done.

  Chapter 16

  For the first time in a long time, Jenna felt stronger, more brave to face whatever John threw her way. Having told Ian and Cat, she felt as though she had a whole team behind her—an army.

  The thought of an army made her think of Ian. He had been gone for so long, fighting the country’s battle in Iraq. He hadn’t written any letters, not that she had actually expected him to, but there was always a secret part of her craving to hear from him.

  The tour to Iraq had changed him. He was more withdrawn and reserved, but somehow with her he was still the same sarcastic alpha male she had always known while growing up.

  “So what are you going to do?” Cat asked, wiping down the unoccupied table next to the window. It was drawing near closing time, the sun setting to the west of the diner. She used to love the setting sun, but lately it was just a reminder of what she had yet to face—going home.

  “I’m not sure,” she said, following Cat’s lead into the back room. A sink full of dishes waited for her, and she was more than thankful to spend an extra few minutes past closing before she went home to the hell more than likely waiting for her. “Part of me wants to run. Leave town and never look back, but another part wants to stay and tell him to get lost.”

  “Then that’s what you should do,” Cat said, taking a spot next to her, placing the dishes in the dishwasher while Jenna handed them over.

  Jenna’s mind thought over many scenarios of her escape. She thought of more in the last few days than she had in the last six months. Planning was to be meticulous and well-developed, something that wouldn’t fail. There was no room for error. It could be the difference between life and death.

  “What are you going to do about Ian?”

  She had thought about Ian, adding him to the mix of plans and the endless possibilities. She still wasn’t sure how to go about this whole situation.

  She shrugged, handing Cat the last of the dishes. “I guess time will tell. I’m not too sure either of us knows.”

  Untying her apron, hanging it on the hook before clocking out, Cat turned to face Jenna. “My invitation never expires. If you need me, call me. My door is always open.”

  Tears stung the back of Jenna’s eyes. She knew she could always count on Cat, but it was upsetting to know she needed the extra security to begin with. Her fiancé was the one who was supposed to love her and cherish her, not throw her around and treat her like the dirt under his shoes.

  Offering a small smile full of unsure reassurance, she said thank you and pushed the door open to leave. Cat would stay back as she did every night, locking up and shutting the place down while Jenna made her uneventful journey home.

  Flicking the cigarette out the crack of the window, she popped a mint in her mouth and sprayed a few squirts of perfume, making note she would be needing to buy another bottle soon.

  She hated smoking. Her father had smoked while she was growing up. The lingering smell of smoke was a constant reminder for her to never take up the bad habit. Smelling like an ashtray had been on the top of the list of things to avoid in her life. But things had changed. The only thing at the top of her list now was staying alive and making it through the impossible.

  Some of her friends had found it refreshing to gripe about their recent breakups and how awful it was to be single. What they didn’t know was how much Jenna craved to be single and be able to do and say what she wanted without fear of retaliation. The freedom of not having to wear makeup to cover the never-ending bruises, or smoke these nasty cancer sticks to calm her nerves. That’s what she was looking forward to—being free from the restraints of an over controlling, narcissistic asshole who pretended to be the perfect man around others. The sad part of it all was the fact he was better than her at pretending things were perfect. It made her sick.

  “Where’ve you been?” His voice boomed off the walls of the darkened entryway. She should have known he would be waiting for her. She was home an hour later than her usual, and he was pissed—once again.

  “Work,” she said, brushing past him as she made her way to the kitchen. “We had a stack of dishes waiting for us to finish after our shift was over. It was a busy day.”

  Heavy footsteps followed her into the kitchen, and she knew he wasn’t impressed with her answer—most likely deemed yet another excuse. She yanked the fridge door open, trying to hide her irritation hoping this would pass quickly. Grabbing leftovers from last night’s supper, she popped the lid off and stuck the bowl in the microwave. She kept her back to him but used the reflection of the appliances to see his every move. So far, he hadn’t moved from his spot against the counter.

  “I drove by there,” he said, causing hair to rise on the back of her neck. “I didn’t see your car.”

  “Then you didn’t look hard enough. It was there. I was there.”

  Her attitude would get her in trouble, but she honestly couldn’t care less. If he tried anything tonight, she’d end up leaving without looking back. She had spent most of the day recapping her plans of leaving and how the escape would work. Regardless, she had Cat’s place to run to and he didn’t know where Cat lived—a definite guarantee. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if he knew who Cat was. He had never come into the diner. He had never cared enough about what she did at the diner to make an appearance—until now.

  The jerk of her arm knocked the bowl of food out of her grip and onto the floor, splashing leftover spaghetti and sauce everywhere. “I told you I didn’t see your car. You weren’t there.”

  “And I’m telling you I was.”

  She refused to give in to what he wanted. She was tired of reacting to his antics, his manipulation, and abuse. He was pathetic and she was over it.

  “You must’ve been with that punk,” he said through gritted teeth. His grip tightening with each word, but she refused to flinch, refused to break. “Screwing him and sucking him off on company time.” His eyes bore into hers, each word he said spraying spit at her face. “Does your boss know what a lousy whore of a waitress you are?”

  Without holding back, she smacked him, leaving a red mark on his cheek and a stunned look on his face. He hadn’t seen it coming.

  “You bitch!”

  A hard fist caught her left cheek. A sharp pain followed by yet another jab to the mouth caused her to taste blood. She had to get out of there. Now. The rage of the monster told her she would die if she didn’t leave. This time was worse than all the other times when he had lost all control.

  There were no clear thoughts, only actions, and she needed to act now. Running toward the front door, she snatched her purse off the counter and escaped the house with a madman on her heels. She managed to fumble her keys from her purse, hit the button to unlock her car on the fob, and get the car started before he had a chance to latch onto her car door. Yanking the door open, he attempted to drag her out, but she threw the car in reverse and floored it, not caring if she ran him over or not. She needed to get out of there and this was her moment. Time stood still as she drove the empty streets through town, making her way to Cat’s all while praying for her to be home. She checked her mirrors numerous times on her way, making sure John wasn’t following her. Unfortunately, she hadn’t run him over as she had
backed out of the driveway, so there was no telling what his next plan of action would be. She hadn’t looked back once she had put the car in drive and sped away.

  There was no telling how long it would take him to come up behind her, but with her luck, it wouldn’t take him long.

  With a bloody mess on her face, she parked the car in Cat’s driveway, climbed out, and raced to the door. As though Cat was expecting her, the door flew open and she was met by a panic-stricken face.

  “It looks worse than it is,” she said, trying her best to make light of an out of control situation.

  Cat reached out for her arm and helped her inside, sitting her on the edge of the couch in an oversized living room with vaulted ceilings and paintings on the wall.

  “What in the hell is going on, Jenna?” Cat asked, scurrying off to the kitchen to bring back a wash rag within seconds. She took her time cleaning the smeared blood from Jenna’s face, and it was in that moment Jenna was able to let out a heavy sigh. A sigh not of relief, but one of exhaustion and worry. She had made the escape, now she had more things to fear. “Did he do this to you? We should call the cops, Jenna.”

  Cat’s insistence wasn’t enough to persuade Jenna. The cops were the last thing on her mind.

  “The cops aren’t a good idea,” she said, swiping a few fallen tears from her swollen face. “He’ll find me if the cops come.”

  A look of realization crossed Cat’s face. It was a look of understanding mixed with doubt and uncertainty. A mix of emotions Jenna knew all too well. She was bound to get others involved in this mess, no matter how hard she had tried not to. It was inevitable.

  “I’m sorry, Cat,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face and soaking into her bloodstained T-shirt. She felt she could trust Cat. More than trust her. In fact, Cat was like a second mother. At a time when Jenna couldn’t reach out to her own mother, for fear of worrying her mother’s weak heart, she had Cat. “I’m so sorry.”

  Wrapping her arms around her, Cat cradled her against her chest and slowly rocked her as she whispered, “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re not to blame for this. You’re just fine right where you are. You’re safe now.”

  Even with the certainty in Cat’s angered voice, Jenna had the fear the words were far from the truth. John was smart, and whether or not he was honest about people watching her, it didn’t matter. He would find her. He always would.

  “You’ll stay here as long as you need to. I have an extra bedroom upstairs and it’s perfect for you.” Cat brushed a strand of fallen hair behind Jenna’s ear—a thing most mothers did for their children. “But I still feel the need to involve the police. Bust his ass and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

  Shaking her head, Jenna knew Cat had a point, but nothing was ever that simple. Involving the police was a long, drawn out process that would take time and most likely end with John released within a day and on the prowl, knowing exactly where to find her.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to involve the cops,” Jenna said, repositioning herself on the couch in order to face Cat. Maybe Cat was a mother hen and wanted to do things by the book, but things wouldn’t be dealt with as one and done once the cops were involved. “He’s a lawyer, Cat. He knows the law like the back of his hand. He’ll make it out of any charges I press against him. I know it.”

  “I understand you’re worried. You have every right to be. The hell he has put you through, but I’m telling you that he’s the type I know all too well. He’s all talk,” Cat said, trying her best to assure Jenna.

  Jenna shook her head. What Cat said was hard to buy. John was a smart business man, one who knew the laws inside and out. There would be no way he would take the fall for anything. “I hit him first.”

  A realization washed over Cat’s face. The look of final understanding. “But was it self-defense?”

  “That’s what he’ll say his actions were. I hit him first,” Jenna reiterated, bringing the blame on herself, because if she hadn’t acted before thinking, she wouldn’t be sitting on her best friend’s couch having this conversation.

  “What made you hit him?”

  Cat’s question needed an honest answer. As badly as Jenna wanted to tell her everything, deep down there was something holding her words in. A noticeable characteristic of being intimidated, she knew, but she couldn’t shake the thought of spilling it all out in the open.

  “Okay,” Cat said, sighing while running a stressed hand through her hair after a moment of silence between them. “I can’t have you here by yourself, and I surely don’t like the idea that he’s out there looking for you. If you’re not wanting the cops involved, what do you suggest we do if he shows up?”

  Again, her question was brash, but she was right. They needed a plan. They needed to figure out what the hell they would do when this bad situation took an ugly turn for the worse.

  “I don’t know.” Jenna was all out of answers. She refused to believe John wouldn’t find Cat’s place, but that didn’t give reason to involve the cops. Pressing charges and court seemed intimidating. More intimidating than the monster she fell in love with who promised her nothing but the happiest moments for the rest of their life. “I can’t guarantee he won’t show up, but I have no idea what the heck we’re going to do when he does.”

  Silence consumed the space between them. A deafening hum filled Jenna’s ears. Her thoughts ran rampant with no end in sight. Cat reached out and patted Jenna’s knee. “How about you go take a hot bath and try to relax. I’ll stand guard and get supper made.”

  Jenna couldn’t argue with her. The thought of soaking in a hot tub sounded great. It had been days since she’d been able to enjoy one. Even though her face was bruised and bloody, along with her pride, she wouldn’t make Cat say it twice.

  Climbing the stairs after following Cat’s directional advice, she made her way to the bathroom. Walking in, she came face-to-face with the mirror above the sink. Her eyes landed on the damage of tonight’s out of control situation. Tears stung as she realized this wasn’t love. There was no reason for someone to do this to someone they loved. She had been a fool to believe this would have ended. Believing John’s sob stories and repeated apologies over the last six months had been her fault. She was to blame. She should have never stuck around for as long as she did. She had no one but herself to blame.

  Running the tap until the water turned hot, she allowed the worry to drown out as she sank into the water. Nothing about this day had been normal. This whole week had been off, especially with Ian’s return to town. Knowing his goal was to be here and gone in two weeks told her he never had plans of making things right. Sure, he wanted to have a few drinks and catch up, but that wasn’t enough to make everything okay.

  The thought of what they had, from the time they were kids in kindergarten, to the time they were at their senior prom, he had been her best friend—the love of her life.

  When his home life turned for the worse when he was only ten, she had a feeling she was going to lose him. Not lose him as in suicide or death, but she had seen him shutting down, slowly withdrawing from conversations. Conversations they’d have until 3:00 a.m. on a random weeknight. No worries about having to be up early for work the next day. What she wouldn’t give to have all of that back.

  Drifting off, completely relaxed, she could hear Cat downstairs, talking amongst herself while she was cooking. Hopefully something amazing.

  Gauging by the number of wrinkles on her fingers, and the cooling of the water, she decided it was time to get out. Reaching for the towel spread out next to the edge of the tub, Jenna stood and wrapped it around her chest, tucking it tightly against her skin.

  Splashing cool water against her face, an attempt to get the swelling down, she focused on the reflection in the mirror once more. A woman she once knew stared back at her. She would find herself once again, she knew. She always had. This wasn’t her first bitter experience.

  Ringing of the doorbell followed by bang
ing startled her. Reaching for her dirty clothes on the floor, she slid them on and made her way back downstairs. Taking one slow step at a time, she peeked down over the banister, hoping for a chance to see who it was at the door. When Cat’s voice sang out from the kitchen, followed by the opening of the door, Jenna wanted to run. Instead, she was frozen in place as Cat slammed her body against the door as a body on the other side pried it open.

  Her heart sank when she realized he found the place. He was here and it was then she realized her car was never hidden. It was out in the open. How dumb had she been not to hide the car? Completely stupid and now he was here.

  Cat’s scream pierced the scene playing out in slow motion. Jenna could see John’s arm reaching through the crack in the door. His hand full of Cat’s hair. There was nowhere for Jenna to go and she had no other choice but to stand with her friend—face this head-on. Cat screamed for Jenna to call the cops. Only then, the door slammed open, smashing Cat out of his way. He made a bee line straight for Jenna.

  Heart thrashing against her ribs, her breath caught, and realization sank in. She had nowhere to go. He bounded the stairs like a madman, pleading with her to come home. His anger mixed with frustration selling him out. The look of the devil in his eyes, a look she had seen only a few times before and knew well enough he was beyond no return.

  “You need to leave,” she said, holding her ground, slowly stepping her way back up the stairs. His angry face twisted with pain, but she wouldn’t fall for this again. She knew better this time. “John, you need to leave right now.”

  “No, Jenna, listen,” he pleaded, taking a step closer with each of her steps backward. “I love you. I can’t imagine my life without you. Sometimes, it drives me crazy to think I’m losing you…”