by Potter, LR
“Thanks, Sean.”
“Glad I could help. I was actually surprised Jace let me anywhere near you. He gets a little bit crazy regarding you. Well, feel better. If you need anything just give me a call, okay?”
Struggling to rein in her emotions at his words, she only nodded. After making a note on her chart, Sean gave her a smile and a small salute, and left the room.
He gets a little bit crazy regarding you. Oh, she’d made him crazy, all right. A picture of his tortured face when he’d first walked into her apartment and found her being kissed by a naked Nick was seared in her brain. It was better this way, she kept reminding herself.
Glancing around the room, practical matters began to consume her. First, how was she going to pay her bills if she couldn’t work? Would Zek replace her because she couldn’t work? Secondly, how was she going to get home? She didn’t have her purse, her phone, any money. She tried to remember how far it was from the hospital to her apartment. She guessed it didn’t matter. She’d just have to make it the best she could.
Tears of loneliness and despair began to fall down her cheeks. She turned away from the door onto her side and cried for her loses. She was twenty-two and had not one person who cared whether she lived or died. How pathetic. What kind of a person did that make her? She deserved her squalid existence.
Shaking off her self-pity, she forced herself to pull it together, and eventually, the tears ceased. She lay on her side, looking out through her window at the side of the building across the street from her hospital room. Not that she really looked at the building, she just concentrated on it in order to calm down. She blanked her mind and focused solely on the building. So absorbed, she jumped when she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She turned slowly so as not to disturb the tubes in her arms.
She swallowed when she saw Jace standing just inside her door, holding her purse. Pain washed over his features before he once more put on his mask of impassivity.
“How are you feeling?” he asked in a detached tone.
“Better, thanks,” she murmured, as memories of him and the girl with the red cowboy boots flooded her mind.
He cleared his throat once more before saying, “I went by your place and picked up your purse.”
“You shouldn’t have, but thanks.”
He gave a shrug of indifference. “Sean said you can go home soon.”
She nodded her head.
“Do you have a way?”
Again she nodded her head.
“How?” he asked.
She blinked rapidly trying to think of an answer.
“Is your new boyfriend coming to pick you up?” he asked harshly.
She winced. “No!”
“Then who?”
“Does it matter?” she asked softly.
He sighed deeply. “Tate, I’ll take you home. Okay?”
“Thanks, but no. You’ve done enough already.”
“You can’t walk from here, it’s too far,” he said as if he could read her mind.
“I’ll take a taxi or the bus. It doesn’t matter.”
Jace ran an exasperated hand through his too-long hair. He needed a haircut, she thought.
“Fine,” he growled through clenched teeth.
“Goodbye, Jace,” she choked before rolling back onto her side facing the window – and away from him.
§§§
Tate awoke back in her own bed. Her head was still fuzzy, but not as bad as the night before. She was happy the dull headache she’d seemed to carry for days was gone. And while her hand still hurt, it actually felt better also. She cringed at how much her splurge on the taxi had cost. She wished she’d had Jace bring her home. At least then she’d have known where he was last night. An image of Jace and the dark-haired girl in the red cowboy boots came unwelcomed into her mind again. Her heart clenched in her chest. She kept telling herself, this was for the best, but it didn’t keep her soul from being shredded.
Her mouth felt as if it were filled with cotton, and slowly, she eased her aching body from the bed. She took care of her body’s needs and brushed her teeth before shuffling towards the kitchen. She was reaching for a glass when her door opened and Jace walked in carrying two lidded cups with what smelled like coffee and a white bag containing what she assumed were donuts. She stood warily before him and gave him an unsure smile. He kept his expression neutral and wordlessly handed her a cup. Their fingers brushed against each other and she swallowed at the too brief contact. Gone was her passionate lover to be replaced with the icy condemnation of this stranger.
“Thanks,” she murmured, before taking a quick sip. Her face contorted at the taste. “Yuk! What is this?”
“Green tea. It’s better for you,” he answered.
“Why do you get coffee, if it’s so good for you?”
“Because I’m not the one who nearly died from blood poisoning,” he responded sharply.
She flinched a little at his words and his tone.
“Yes, well thanks for… everything,” she murmured.
He cleared his throat. “You shouldn’t have let it go so far. You could have died.”
He raked her from head to toe and she blanched at how she must look.
Looking down at the cup in her hand, she said softly, “I know, Sean told me.” She swallowed. “Jace, I…”
He cut off her apology with a question which rocked her. “Who is Patanga Moon?”
“What?” she rasped out as she struggled to breathe.
“Patanga Moon? Who is she?” he asked again, indicating the kitchen table with the scattered newspaper clippings.
Her gaze moved to the table and her hands began to tremble. “I’d like you to go now, Jace.”
“Not before I get some answers.”
She lifted woeful eyes to his. “I don’t want to tell you,” she whispered.
He stared at her for a long time. “Are you Patanga Moon?”
She turned and made her way into the living room and sat down heavily in the old, brown leather chair. Setting her cup down and raking her fingers through her hair, she replied, “Does it matter?”
He followed her as far as the archway, leaned against the jamb, and shrugged his shoulders.
She turned to stare straight ahead, giving him her profile. Blowing a deep puff of air out of her cheeks, she murmured, “Yes.”
“So… those stories in the clippings are about you?”
Swallowing at what he must now think of her, she simply nodded her head.
“How does the guy fit into all this?” he asked with forced nonchalance.
Exhaling sharply, she fell back in the chair suddenly exhausted. Tired of trying to be something she wasn’t. What did it matter if Jace got his pound of flesh? Didn’t he deserve it?
Clearing her throat, and without looking up at him, she told him woodenly, “When I was thirteen, my parents offered me up online to any pervert who could afford it. There was a raid before the deal could go through. My mother was killed and my father imprisoned. The lead investigator of the case petitioned the court for me to live with him and his family. Nick, the guy who was here the other night, was his son.” Tate lowered her eyes nervously and dropped her voice to a whisper. “When I was fourteen, Nick drugged me, then… raped me, and shared the video with everyone. I was moved to foster care after that.” Absently, she wiped at the tears of shame on her cheeks.
She caught the movement out of the corner of his eye as he raked his hand through his hair.
With a small shake of his head, he asked. “Wait… was he the only one before me?”
Slowly she shook her head.
“Damn it! Don’t you think that’s something I might need to have known? Of course, look who I’m talking to – the person who refuses to tell me anything. It makes no sense. I mean, I don’t understand why you’d want, or even how you could be with him again. Didn’t I mean anything to you?”
Her head jerked up at his words. Before she could stop them, the words r
ushed out, “Of course you did. I love you.”
He flinched at her words. “Then how could you betray me like that… with him?” he asked anguished.
With tears slowly trickling down her cheeks, she shook her head and whispered, “I didn’t… I could never…”
He cut her off once more. “I saw you, damn it,” he barked.
“It wasn’t what you thought. He was angry… has been angry for a very long time. He wanted to punish me by… destroying my life once more.”
He stared at her uncertainly for a long while. “So you didn’t…”
She shook her head as his sentence trailed off.
He startled her when he pushed himself off the jamb and began pacing.
“Damn it, Tate. What am I supposed to believe here? That I walk in on you kissing a naked man, and nothing happened?”
Tate lowered her gaze and began to pluck nervously at the gauze covering her injured hand.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly.
“The hell it doesn’t,” he snarled.
Heaving a huge sigh, and with her voice trembling, she said, “Jace, I think it’d be better if you’d just go.”
With her heart pounding as it shattered into a thousand pieces, she waited for him to leave, begging him silently to leave, before she fell apart and begged him to stay. After an agonizing amount of time, he left, closing the door quietly behind him.
Tate didn’t know how long she sat in the same position after he’d gone. What was she going to do? If Jace was going to keep playing at Zeal’s, she’d have to find another job. She hated that as she’d worked there for two years now. Plus, she doubted Zek would allow her rent this place anymore either. But she’d give up those two things if it meant not having to see Jace. Her heart couldn’t bear it.
It was almost two before she could force herself to eat anything – she settled on soup. She’d eaten almost half when she pushed the bowl away. Her stomach was just too tied up in knots. As she sat at the table, she began to pick up the items and put them back into the shoebox. She should probably throw these things away, but they were a reminder of who she truly was – just in case she ever tried to forget. Jace had almost made her forget. Good thing she’d had Nick to remind her, she thought ruefully.
Underneath all the clippings and things, Tate found Jace’s laptop. She heaved a huge sigh. She’d thought she was done with the torment of seeing him. Maybe she could just get ahold of Sean Devlin and have him give it to Jace. She picked up the shoebox and her half-eaten bowl of soup. She set the bowl in the sink, and as she turned, she saw two things lying on the counter: the white envelope with Jace’s name written on it, obviously still containing the money, and the gold CD Nick had left.
Her stomach clenched at the sight of the CD. She’d never actually seen it herself. With trembling hands, she set the shoebox on the counter and picked up the CD. Breathing rapidly, she went back to the table and flipped on Jace’s laptop. With slightly uncoordinated fingers, she inserted the disc and clicked the proper function on the laptop for it to play.
The quality of the CD wasn’t great and a little grainy. In the background she could hear Nick talking, but the sound quality was so poor, she couldn’t make out what he was saying. With her fingers raised to her lips, she watched in horror as a much younger Nick moved around her bed, tugging off her shirt and bra first, then struggling to remove her jeans. He’d left her panties on as he disrobed. He moved onto to the bed as the girl (she couldn’t allow herself to think of it as her) moaned and moved as if she were drunk. He spoke something into the camera before he lowered his mouth to one of the young girl’s budding breasts. She twitched but didn’t fight him. Moving from the bed, Nick bent from sight for just a second before he came back into view, holding his jeans in his hands. From his jeans pocket, he pulled out two clothespins and made a further show of clamping them on the young girl’s nipples. She twitched again but still didn’t fight it. Nick glanced around the room, looking for something, then moved to the dresser filled with all the trappings of a young girl. He shuffled through the items on top and triumphantly held up her curling iron for the camera. He moved back to the moaning girl and slid her panties down her legs. Laughing, Nick flicked the panties at the camera.
Tate leaned up quickly and flipped the laptop off when Nick moved the curling iron down her body, his intentions obvious. She rose and stumbled to the sink and heaved. Great, racking sobs tore from her body. Why would he do that? And so many people had watched that video. She wondered if it was still out there, roaming from person to person. She sobbed harder. It was so much worse than she ever imagined. No wonder there’d been so much damage. She shuddered to think what else he’d done. She’d never be free of it, never. She wondered if she’d run into people who’d seen it and recognized her as the girl from the sex video. What if it’d gone viral? No wonder all the boys in school wanted to have to sex with her. They all thought she was a freak thanks to Nick. She hated him so much.
Needing to get out of the apartment and not think about Jace, Nick, or her stupid, nothing life, Tate grabbed some of the bills from Jace’s envelope and headed downstairs to Zeal’s. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been there during the day. She knew she probably shouldn’t mix alcohol with her meds, but she really didn’t care. All she wanted was to forget, at least for a while, the horrific images of her lying naked while Nick… She shook her head to chase the images away.
She was happy to see she didn’t know the woman tending bar at Zeal’s. According to her nametag, her name was Ramona. If she didn’t know Ramona, then Ramona didn’t know her. Thinking of her newfound wealth in Jace’s envelope, Tate ordered a double from the top shelf liquors: Crown Royal. She drank the first drink quickly and ordered another. She slowed slightly after the fourth double.
When Ramona went off shift at seven and was replaced by Nicko, Tate moved to a barstool in the furthest corner of the bar and sat with her back against the wall, watching the bar as it filled with people. While she slowed her alcohol consumption, she didn’t stop. She didn’t want to think, to remember, to know anything. She was glad she’d not seen the CD as a young, already traumatized fourteen-year-old girl. She’d really have been screwed up if she had. She laughed to herself at that. Like she wasn’t screwed up.
Tate didn’t know how long she sat at the bar, but it was really buzzing. Because of where she sat, she was mostly hidden and left alone, as was her intention. She watched young lovers as they got up to dance to the sound being pumped out by Nelson, the DJ. She wished she could be that carefree, courageous, and naïve, but she never would be.
She turned to grab Nicko’s attention for another drink, and jumped when she heard the angry voice behind her.
“What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to kill yourself?” Jace demanded.
Tate closed her eyes at the pain. “Go away, Jace.”
“Damn it, Tate! You just got out of the hospital.”
Nicko glanced her way and she lifted her glass and he nodded. Jace moved up to the bar.
“She is not having another. She is cut off. Keep the bill for me, I’ll pay it later,” Jace said to Nicko. “Come on, you’re going home.”
“What are you doing here, Jace?” she asked desolately.
“Saving you from yourself, apparently,” he retorted.
“I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, you’ve shown in the last couple of days how good you are at taking care of yourself.”
Rubbing a hand over her face, she asked wearily, “What do you want?”
“Come on, I’ll help you upstairs,” he said quietly.
She swallowed and considered her options. She could probably get rid of him the quickest if she went upstairs, so she had little other option. Brushing by his extended hand, she walked, albeit, a little unsteadily past him and out the back door. She climbed the stairs and dug the keys out of her pocket. He took them and unlocked the door. She hesitated and turned to him.
/>
“Thanks for ensuring I arrived home safely. Goodnight, Jace.”
He swept past her, opened the door, and went into the kitchen.
Not going to be that easy, she thought as she rubbed at the pain in her chest.
Inhaling deeply, she ambled after him, shut the door, and leaned heavily against it. She lifted a hand and yanked her offending hairband out of her hair and shook her hair free.
Jace stood as he had earlier in the day, leaning against the archway frame, studying her. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. She thought he’d never looked more rakish. What he’d ever seen in her, she couldn’t even imagine. Why wouldn’t he just go away and stay away? She couldn’t take much more, especially today.
Clearing his throat, he said quietly, “I want to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
“Did you sleep with that guy? Nick?”
She swallowed as the images from the CD flooded her mind. Closing her eyes, she simply shook her head.
“Did you mean what you said?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him questioning. “What?”
Sauntering towards her, he placed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, just as he’d done on the first night she’d met him. Her heart squeezed in her chest. When he reached her, her body began to tremble. He lifted a hand to her cheek and looked deep into her tawny eyes.
“Are you in love with me, Tate?”
She closed her eyes as a tear slipped out. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered through the tightness in her throat.
“It does to me,” he whispered back as he wiped the tear away with his thumb.
“Please just go.”
“Why should I go?” he asked raggedly. She opened her eyes and looked into his torn, strained face.
With a sad, watery smile, she said, “Because you deserve better than Patanga Moon.”
“Ah. But I want Tate Morgan.”
She couldn’t bite back the sob which tore from her throat. “Tate Morgan isn’t real. She’s just an illusion I created. She doesn’t really exist.”
