“That doesn’t mean there aren’t any. I can help do research. I mean I have a vested interest in knowing why this guy has a hard on for me.”
“Free help is always welcome, but we have to be careful how evidence is obtained if we want it admissible in court. Contact me around Thanksgiving. I’ll see if I can legally bring you in as an intern without comprising the case.”
“You think you can hold him in jail for that long?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Even if he’s out, the statute of limitations is still in effect if he hasn’t been formally charged and found innocent of any charges. Just because we drop charges, doesn’t mean we can’t bring them against him again if we find more evidence.”
I began to gather my things when he added one more comment. “I see my daughter picked up lunch for you.”
“Daughter?” I asked without thinking.
“Yes, I’m assuming she brought you the food. She’s the one that showed you in this morning.”
Oh, that daughter. “Yes, she was very helpful.”
He nodded, and I wrapped the rest of sandwich in the paper it came in and picked up the chips. I was headed back to the house with nothing to do. Food may be my only source of passing the time.
Mr. Hunt who had gotten up from his seat reached in a lower cabinet of a hutch in the corner. Helpfully, he handed me a plastic bag. I stuffed my food in it and grabbed my drink. He moved to the closed door as I followed.
Before we reached it, a soft knock came. The door opened, and Mr. Hunt’s daughter stood with someone behind her. “The Shelby’s are here,” she announced before stepping out of the way and heading back down the hall.
I guessed she assumed since we were all working on the same case; it would be okay for her to interrupt. Mr. Shelby stepped in and stopped. Jess wasn’t with him. Hadn’t she announced the Shelby’s as plural?
It actually turned out to be a good thing. “Can I speak with you?” I asked Jess’s father.
He glanced at Mr. Hunt and nodded before he spoke to me. “Sure.”
“Can I offer you some coffee or water before I leave you two alone?”
Tom said, “Water would be fine.”
“Jessica?” Mr. Hunt questioned.
“She’s in the ladies room and should be here in a few minutes. You can bring her water as well.”
“I’ll be right back then.” Mr. Hunt nodded before exiting the room.
There wasn’t a lot of time, so I got right to it. Digging in my pocket, I pulled out the rest of the cash I had on hand. I knew how much I had left after the fifty to the security guards and money for lunch. It was a constant to be wise with the money I had. I handed it all to her Dad.
“What’s this?”
“It’s train money for Jess.”
He didn’t ask why, so I was sure Jess had a heart to heart with him. They were very close.
“Ethan,” he began. “I’m capable of paying for a ticket to get my daughter back to school.”
He held his hand out offering the money back to me. I slipped my hands into my pocket to let him know I had no intentions of taking it back.
“I know. Being around you these many months, you’ve reaffirmed lessons my dad taught me about responsibility. It was my responsibility to get Jess here and take her back to school. My offer that she accepted. Things have changed, and I won’t be able to fill my end of things. But it’s still on me to get her back. So please… buy her a ticket.”
My composure began to slip. I very much respected the man in front of me. He was an honorable guy, and Jess was lucky to have him. I’d been without a family until Jess came into my life. And they took me in without judgment. And I’d failed them. I’d broken trust not only with Jess but with her Dad and Mom.
He nodded, and I quickly took my leave. A brief look to the left revealed a vacant hall. To the right, I saw the exit door. It led out into another hall, which would take me to the vast entrance of the municipal building and out the exit doors to the street.
With purposeful steps, I made haste to get away before Jess appeared. As much as I wanted to see her, I didn’t want to see the resolute look of an ex-girlfriend. What I wanted I couldn’t have. I didn’t look back.
When I reached the reception area, the leggy brunette, aka the daughter of Mr. Hunt, stood and blocked my path. With pink painted lips, she smiled at me without showing teeth, confident but not cocky. She held out a small white rectangle in her hand. I didn’t even give it more than a cursory glance. I was ready to leave.
“Call me,” she offered and I realized she held a business card out to me.
Movement in my periphery caused me to instinctually turn just in time to see Jess frozen mid-step. Hunt’s daughter hadn’t announced her words like a bullhorn. But apparently she’d said them loud enough to be overheard. Inwardly, I groaned. Then, a stirring of anger brewed within me. Why was I wrong in this situation? Hadn’t Jess said we should move on?
Turning on the wattage even though I didn’t feel it, I plucked the card from the brunette’s fingers. With a brief nod, I exited. I kept going past the metal detectors I’d had gone through on entrance. It had been a nasty reminder of things long since passed. I pushed the doors open and stepped onto the sidewalk.
In my pocket, I crumbled the card because I never intended to use it. She was Hunt’s daughter, and there was no way. I wasn’t that stupid. But to make sure, as I passed a trash can, I dropped the card in never having looked at it. I didn’t want to be tempted to use that number in a moment of weakness. I didn’t even know her name. Last thing I needed was to do the prosecutor’s daughter. He’d have my balls in jail.
What I needed was a clear head. I got on my bike after stowing my food away and headed back to the cold house that held a blanket, and one opened bottle of clear something that had my name written all over it. The best I could hope for was another dream filled with sex with Jess.
twenty-seven
There is no way to explain the overwhelming loneliness that filled me as I pull up in the driveway of my father’s house. And it would always be his house. His memory lingered in the empty spaces left behind when my mother headed for California without me.
I knew better than to believe in the solace that alcohol promised. Yet, when everything was lost, and there was nothing to hope for; it offered oblivion.
Tomorrow, however, would be a new day. No more would I allow myself to wallow in the self-pity. Where I wanted to fight for Jess, I decided a clean break would be better. Jess’s second chances had died with Josh, and I wouldn’t be pardoned because of his sins. And I knew it.
The padding of my footsteps up the stairs made me think of a dead man walking down a corridor to his execution. My self-loathing was at an all-time high, and I was beginning to hate myself. Maybe I should head back to school. I was tired though. Not tired in the sense of sleepiness, but rather the weariness that invaded my bones.
I stood against one of the bare walls and slid down in a heap. With my knees propped up, I settled my forearms against them and clasped my hands. I stared at the pallet where my bed had once stood. I glared at the white walls where navy paint had once been. Everything was gone. Once again, I was confronted with how easy it had been to delete my presence from the house.
Sliding my leg down, I grabbed the food bag. I pulled out the half sandwich and forced myself to take small bites. I had a game tomorrow I had no reason to miss. My fingers itched for my sketch book. I even longed for my camera. My mind cycled through the many pictures I’d taken that made me smile like no other. Each was a memorized snapshot of a blonde’s smiling face I had filed away.
My new plan, when I got back to school, was to lose myself in studies, football and maybe girls. Miles and miles of girls. There was no way I would allow myself to fall into the trap of another relationship, not even friends with benefits.
As I was swallowing the last bite of the hoagie, I heard a voice downstairs. With the alarm no longer active, no chime sounded
to alert me of a door opening. I held my breath waiting another beat for the voice to return.
“Hello. I’m with the police. Is anyone here? I received a call that someone had entered this house.”
I cursed. As swift and silently as I could, I pushed things into the box and placed it and myself inside the closet. It was dark inside, and I didn’t have an overhead light in my room. With no lamps, there wasn’t anything to illuminate me. However, I knew the cop would probably have a flashlight. I hadn’t checked the front door, but apparently Mom had left that unlocked as well.
Not that we lived in a high crime rate neighborhood. Most small time burglars wouldn’t hit the houses around here assuming they would be under surveillance by highly paid security services. Big time burglars would usually be looking for something specific knowing it would be there. Our house held nothing of interest. It was virtually empty save for me.
The cop began to make his or her way upstairs. Most likely, my room would be last checked since my door was at the end of the hall. If the cop found me, I wasn’t sure what would happen. Technically the house still belonged to my father’s estate. All his assets had been frozen by the Feds, but would I be considered a trespasser? I wasn’t sure, and I hoped the cop wouldn’t look in my closet and find me.
My heart thundered like a turbulent storm in my chest. I was sure if it could be heard, considering how it pounded in my ears. I faintly heard doors open and close in the hallway. By the timing over the footsteps, the cop was only giving a cursory glance around each room before moving onto the next.
My dilemma weighed on me. With my options in front of me, I decided that identifying myself was probably the best option. If I was found hiding, it would look more suspicious. I didn’t know if the cop would recognize me or be able to pull up my juvenile records. It would be better for me to come out and claim ignorance. Technically, it was still my home. I was in town and decided to stay here. I made a move to get to my feet when the cops radio squawked loud enough I determined he or she was close. I’d left a crack in the door that gave me a view of my open bedroom door illuminated by the moonlight spilling in through the large window.
The radio crackled, and words were said that I couldn’t understand. It wasn’t so much as the cop was far away as the dispatcher was speaking in numbers.
When the cop spoke, she confirmed her location just when I spotted her in the doorway.
“The front door was unlocked, but the house appears to be empty. Maybe a car was just turning around in the driveway.”
She stepped into the room, and I knew my time to reveal myself had passed. If I were to step out of the closet at that moment, I might be shot.
The dispatcher’s tinny voice called out a 10-51 before reciting an address just as the cop stepped carefully further in the room.
She stopped and held her hand up at her shoulder where a mic was perched.
“I’m on my way,” she radioed back. She gave a quick glanced at her back before briskly stepping out the room. She trotted down the stairs and I wondered what code had been given that was more important than the search of the house.
I waited before leaving my hiding place, even though, the front door had closed. I listened closely for a car. When I heard it zoom out of the drive, I stepped into my room and out into the hall. The window above the front door was visible, and I saw no sign of blue and red lights. She hadn’t turned on her sirens, which was interesting. It was probably a courtesy to the neighbors that slept soundly.
I walked back into the room, and I shoved the box back in the cubby hole in the closet where it had been stored for future use. I took my envelopes, trash, and chips out with me. I checked the front door. The cop hadn’t locked it on her way out.
I decided staying there for the night wasn’t a smart idea. The cop could come back and decide to do a more thorough check. Before I left, I made sure all the doors and window were locked. I used my key to lock the garage door once I was out. With my stuff stowed, I pushed my bike out of the garage, closed it. I walked my bike to the end of the drive not wanted to alert whatever helpful neighbor had called in my intrusion. On the street, I started it and headed back to Philly.
It was a good thing I’d eaten. I didn’t think I would have made it back otherwise. However, it had been too much time to think. Too much time to agonize over something I had no control.
Back in my dorm room late Friday night, I had nothing to do and more time to think. The place seemed empty, but what had I expected. Most people were hanging out or at parties.
I found myself sketching. The form that emerged on the paper resembled Jess in the heat of passion. I hadn’t set out to capture her image straight from my dream.
The handle jiggled a second before Bear’s lumbering form stepped into our room. “Dude, you’re here. I didn’t think you’d be back until tomorrow.”
Not wanting him to ask me any questions about my picture, I quickly closed the pad and stuffed it between the wall and the mattress. “I’m here.” There was no enthusiasm in my voice.
“Not even sure why I’m asking you. He of the lost souls of love," he intoned the last part with a sing-song voice. Switching to his regular voice, he asked, "I’m headed to a party, wanna come with?”
I surprised us both with my simple response. “Sure.”
Bear did a double take. “Really?” He made a show of looking around as if I were somebody’s double. I shrugged. I needed the distraction and not be in my head.
Surprisingly it was another frat party no different than any I’d been to so far. The only difference was me. With a blue plastic cup in hand, I partook of the festivities as a free man. Congregated near the keg were Bear, a couple of other guys from the team, and me. We chanted while a busty chick sucked down beer like a vacuum cleaner.
A shorty walked over in a barely there skirt and a belly-bearing top. Her blond hair was nearly white with hints of brown at the roots. None of that mattered when she walked over and requested a refill, eye fucking me the whole time.
She murmured her thanks to the linebacker who was manning the keg and winked at me before heading back to a gaggle of girls who all immediately turned our way.
Bear held the cup to his mouth. Before he drank, he said, “So bag lady?”
“Bag lady?” I asked in confusion.
“You know… in the bag.” He drank and shrugged at the same time, but I got his point.
“No, not that one,” I said taking a swig of my drink. The last thing I wanted was a girl with blonde hair.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Bear guffawed.
“A beggar I’m not,” I retorted. “Where’s your girl?” I wanted to change the subject. Questioning his relationship status seemed like a good place to start.
“I’m a lone wolf on the prowl.”
I stopped with my cup in midway to my parched lips.
“You and me both,” I muttered before polishing off my drink.
“Another round,” he announced with hand raised and spread wide. The guys shouted in agreement. “To bag ladies.” He filled our cups as we continued to assess the girls that showed up that night.
Several drinks in with the music pulsing through my skin, I found a new low in debauchery. We’d taken it upon ourselves to judge every girl that came for a drink. Some got off on it; others left on the verge of tears. It wasn’t my finest moment. All liquored up; I rolled with the punches when a girl who threatened to change everything waltzed up.
twenty-eight
My glassy eyed stare took in the chuckles from the peanut gallery. There were a thousand things I could have done, but I made the worse possible choice. I walked towards Meghan. While her eyes twinkled, nothing stirred in my pants. I figured when things got started, my dick would get on board.
I strolled by, giving her enough eye contact to let her know to follow me. I’d warn her that I wasn’t looking for anything or anyone. If she stayed, fuck it. I’d give her what she wanted and hoped I could excise the remna
nts of Jess’s ghost from my heart.
Even on the stairs leading up to the second story of the house, I didn’t look back to see if she was following me. I’d drunk enough that my conscience was at war with my actions leaving the lines blurred.
When I reached an open door to an empty room, I finally glanced to the side. Meghan wore a slight smile in what felt like an invitation if my intoxicated mind could be believed. I pushed through the door. No less than fifty times had I asked myself if I should do this before I finally closed us in.
Meghan sat on the bed with an expectant look. I leaned back on the door not ready to move. She took my actions to mean I was waiting for her to do something. She stood and began to unbutton her shirt. She was an attractive girl. There was no reason for me not to want this. She was willing and eager as her nimble fingers made short work of her top. As the last button released, her shirt parted exposing creamy skin and two handfuls of breasts that were encased in a lacy bra.
She stepped forward, and I closed my eyes for a second. I mentally gave myself a pep talk. When I opened my eyes, her hand rose as if she planned to cup my face. I reached out in time to stop her.
Gently, I took each of her wrists in my hands. “I’m sorry Meghan. I can’t.
Her eyes went from playful to scorned. I pressed my mouth closed. I stood straight and glided her back putting more space between us. When there was sufficient room between us, I let go of her hands.
“You deserve better. I can’t do this to you or her.”
Perplexed, she asked. “Your girlfriend?”
I wished more than anything her words were accurate.
“To the girl I love.”
Her hands fell limply at her sides in fists. I glanced at the floor before turning around and letting myself out the door. Only, someone was waiting on the other side.
“Evans.”
“Hart.” His word was clipped. “Is Meghan in there?”
I let out a resigned exhale and nodded. Just as I predicted in my head a second before, his arm jackhammered back and launched towards my face. I moved in time that his punch ricocheted off the doorjamb. He bent at the waste and cradled his hand just as Meghan came out to investigate. She immediately went to him after a quick glance in my direction.
Broken Lens Page 14
