by Aimee McNeil
“I’ve seen what Seth does with people that steal his shit.” Nash’s voice broke. He continually looked behind him to the door and out the window, watching the street. “And we are in his fucking house with his goons in the next fucking room.”
“Shut the fuck up or they’ll hear you. We can get out a lot faster if you keep the light down so I can see what I’m doing,” Jackson bit out in frustration.
Nate shone the light up to see Jackson’s face, which currently displayed his annoyance. “Give it to me, for shit’s sake, and go wait outside.”
“Yeah, yeah, here.” Nate passed the flashlight quickly as if it were suddenly scorching to touch. “I’ll keep watch outside.” He couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. Jackson could only shake his head as he heard Nate knock something over in his hasty retreat from the house.
“What the fuck was that?” Jackson heard one of the guys in the next room holler. Jackson flicked off the flashlight and ducked under the desk when he heard footsteps from the next room.
“Turn the fucking TV down!” one of the men shouted as he moved down the hallway outside the office. Jackson waited and listened, hoping that Nate made it outside. He knew they were in deep shit if Seth found out they were in his house; he did not want to be responsible for bringing that shitstorm.
Jackson sighed in relief when he heard the footsteps return to the room across the hall and the television return to its deafening volume. Jackson placed the flashlight in his teeth and searched through the remaining drawers until he found the bottom one to be locked. He quickly picked the lock and pulled it open to reveal bags of blow. Black was right: Seth had been skimming his product. He found a file in the drawer with Seth’s contacts. Taking the papers out, he folded them up and shoved them in his pocket. Closing the drawer, he looked up when he noticed headlights turning in the driveway. Jackson quickly turned off his flashlight and grabbed the scattered papers that Nate knocked to the floor and placed them neatly back on the edge of the desk. He didn’t want to raise any flags when Seth returned home. He knew that eventually Seth would realize the papers were missing, but he would be long gone at that point, and Seth would have no one to point a finger at.
Jackson moved quickly down the hallway as he heard footsteps upon the front step. The smell of rotten food reached out toward him as he slipped past the kitchen. Even in the dark he could see old takeout boxes stacked upon the counters. The sound of keys in the lock met him as he stepped out of the line of sight from the front entrance. Jackson listened to the voices of the people entering the house. Seth’s voice was the first to register with Jackson, and the other was a willing female, eager to show Seth her talents. Satisfied he had retrieved all relevant information needed, Jackson slipped out the window and pulled it closed behind him. The window pane was immediately set aglow as they entered the bedroom he’d exited from. His feet were silent as he made his way through the backyard and over the fence, where a very anxious Nate awaited him.
“Holy fuck, that was close,” Nate spat out as Jackson’s feet landed on the other side of the fence.
“We’re good.” Jackson smiled, satisfied, waving the papers.
Nate was a good guy. He was the closest thing to a friend that Jackson had if he would even really call him that. Nate liked to pretend he was fearless, but in the face of actual danger, he ran with his tail between his legs or sacrificed his dignity to save his hide. Jackson didn’t know if he could actually count on Nate, but then again he never let himself count on anyone. He depended on himself and no one else.
The two of them walked down the street, discreetly and quietly, avoiding any attention that would alert anyone they were in the area. The evening air was heavy with humidity, offering no relief from the heat even with the sun far from sight. Jackson looked up at the sky; it reflected the city lights and made it impossible to see the stars. It wasn’t long before the stretch of houses began to change to storefronts and bars as they moved from the residential streets into the inner workings of the city.
“I need a fucking drink. It’s hot as shit out tonight,” Nate said before he veered into a corner store. They walked into the brightly lit interior. The only person that inhabited the store was the clerk behind the desk, who eyed them suspiciously over his paper. His thick eyebrows scowled at them as he took in their presence. Nate walked toward the back and grabbed a soda from the fridge in the back. “You want one, Jacks?”
“Water,” Jackson hollered without looking up. He was eyeing the magazine rack with half-dressed women stretched out on the hood of a car, both very pleasing to the eye. Nate returned from the back; holding his up to shield his face, he placed the bottles on the counter.
“These and all the cash in the register,” Nate said firmly to the cashier. Nate laid the barrel of his piece on the edge of the counter. The cashier’s face drained of color as he stood up from the stool. His paper fell to the ground, forgotten in his panic.
“Fuck, Nash.” Jackson rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the heads up.” Jackson deadpanned as he pulled his hood up to conceal his face.
The man opened the register with trembling fingers. His glasses slid down the length of his nose as sweat beaded on his face. Jackson watched Nate and couldn’t help but wonder where this confidence was when he was practically pissing his pants in Seth’s house.
Jackson grabbed some licorice from the candy shelf as he watched the man fumble the money before practically throwing it at Nash. He held the door open as Nate dove toward the exit. They moved with quick steps to get away from the area.
“You are a fucking piece of work, you shithead.” Jackson shoved Nate’s shoulder as they jogged down the street, keeping to the shadows. “What happened to keeping a low profile tonight?”
“Sorry, man. I got bills to pay, you know.”
“Yeah, whatever. I hope you’re ready to run.” Jackson noticed the police car approach, and its lights began flashing on cue.
“Shit,” Nate spat, turning on his heel to run. “That was fast.”
“This way,” Jackson called as he ran down an alleyway. “Do you ever think things through?” Jackson scaled the fence and flipped himself over. The sirens were loud, and the officer was yelling for them to freeze. Once they were out of the officer’s line of sight, they split up in separate directions. Jackson knew the drill…when the heat rained down, it was important to split up and find a place to hide out or lay low until the coast was clear. Jackson couldn’t recall the amount of times he found himself in this very situation; lately he was always watching his back. It felt natural for him to run from what was coming for him. He heard an officer in pursuit stumble as he tried to follow Jackson over a fence.
Jackson pulled off his hoodie and threw it in a dumpster as he passed by before turning the corner to a street peppered with people enjoying the nightlife the busy street offered with its pizza shops and corner stores that sold cigarettes to anyone willing to pay regardless of age, causing it to be a regular hangout for the underage smokers. A group of girls drew his attention. He recognized one immediately. They all turned and smiled ridiculously at his approach. He couldn’t hear their whispers, but the look in their eyes told it all, and he would use their adoration for his benefit.
“Hey, Jackson.” Bethany bit her lip seductively as he held her gaze and walked up to her. The other girls giggled and stepped back in welcome as he walked into their circle.
“Ladies. I just wanted to tell Bethany something.” He took Bethany’s hand, lacing his fingers through hers. He pulled her into a kiss without explanation. He had barely spoken to her before, but he had seen her watching him. Bethany melted into his chest, her hands grabbing the material of his shirt. She moaned against his mouth before he pulled away.
Bethany’s face was almost as red as the shirt she was wearing. Her long brown hair was dishevelled from his fingers and her lips were swollen. She had a satisfied, awed expression on her face that made his lip turn up in a smirk and made his groin tighten in respo
nse.
The officer rounded the corner, breathless from the chase as he scanned the street. “Evening, Officer Mack,” Jackson said when the officer looked at him. Jackson knew the officer; in fact he knew most of the officers at the precinct. He pulled Bethany to his side and wrapped his other arm around a petite blonde with a severely low neckline that Jackson took advantage of as he towered over her.
“Jackson, you little shit. How is it whenever there’s trouble, you’re lurking in the shadows?” The officer spit on the sidewalk, clearly out of breath as he held his side.
“Now, now, Mack, is that any way to speak in front of these beautiful young ladies? I’m disappointed.” Jackson shook his head in mock disapproval.
“Run along, girls,” Mack ordered as he approached Jackson. The girls quickly scattered.
“I’m taking you in this time,” Mack warned.
Jackson couldn’t help but smile at Mack when he tried to make his stout figure look intimidating. Jackson still towered over the overweight man. The officer grabbed his radio and called for his partner to bring the car around.
“I didn’t do anything. I was just hanging out with my girls. You saw me.”
“You have been getting away with this shit for way too long,” the officer scolded.
Jackson just rolled his eyes in response. “Sorry to disappoint you, Mack. I will try really, really hard to be good next time,” Jackson said sarcastically. The patrol car pulled up to the curb, and Jackson noticed the street was suddenly bare.
“Come on,” he sighed as he grabbed Jackson’s shoulder and directed him toward the car. “Get in, and no trouble or I will cuff you, I swear to God, Jackson.”
“Yes sir.” Jackson saluted.
“That’s the smartest thing I ever heard you say,” Mack said as he closed the door after Jackson climbed into the back seat.
“Jackson,” the driving officer acknowledged.
“Wells,” Jackson responded in kind as he leaned back against the seat for the silent drive to the station.
When they pulled up to the front of the precinct, Jackson’s stomach knotted tight. It had been years, but every time he was brought in he got that same sadness as memories haunted him. Mack opened the door and noticed Jackson’s hesitation as he looked up at the building. “You wouldn’t have to keep coming back here if you would get your shit together…at least not in the back of a police car, not like this.” Mack let out a defeated sigh. “Come on.”
“Good times,” Jackson bit off as he climbed out of the car.
All eyes fell on him when they pushed through the front doors. All of the blue suits looked at him with the same looks of pity that caused anger to heat his blood. He clenched his jaw tight and kept himself in check as he followed Mack and Wells. They led him back toward Giles’ office, a place he had frequented many times over the last few years.
“Thanks, Officers,” Giles said as they walked in. Jackson sauntered over to a chair. Dropping down, he swung his feet up onto the top of the desk.
“You want us to stay?” Wells asked as they lingered in the doorway.
“Not necessary.” Giles gave them a tight smile and nod as they closed the door behind them. Giles pushed Jackson’s feet off the desk.
“Your eighteenth birthday is four months away,” Giles said, running his hands through his hair.
“I’m so honoured you remembered,” Jackson said shallowly.
Giles gave him a cold look before he shook his head. “Once you turn eighteen, I’m not gonna be able to save your ass anymore. You’ll start suffering the consequences of your actions, Jackson. I can’t keep you out of jail if you keep trying to put yourself there.”
“I never asked for your help,” Jackson muttered.
Giles ran his hand down over his face, clearly tired. His sun-darkened skin did not hide the lines that were beginning to form around his eyes. “You have to clean yourself up. Everyone understands how hard it was for you, but now it’s time to grow up and be the man your father could have been proud of.”
“I can’t be that.” Jackson picked at the arm of the chair he sat in. He was uncomfortable with the topic of his father. His chest felt too tight and the room too small to contain him.
“Why not? Why are you throwing your life away?” Giles pleaded with him in a stern voice.
“What life?” Jackson looked up and met Giles’s eyes. He knew Giles could see his anger. The one emotion Jackson could still access, it was wound so tight around him; it fueled him and drove him to carry on. “Tell me, Giles.” Jackson grabbed the name plate off his dark wooden desk. “Why do you care what happens to me? I sure don’t give a fuck.” He tossed it back up on the desk. Giles watched it tumble over a stack of papers and come to rest haphazardly on his desk.
“Because you were dealt a shitty hand and I owe your father at least that. I can’t stand seeing you going down a road that you were never supposed to be on in the first place.”
“Well, you can clear your conscience, Giles. This is me letting you off the hook.” Jackson waved his hands.
“It doesn’t work that way, Jackson. I care what happens to you. I can’t just stop.”
Jackson put his hand over his heart. “I’m touched, really,” Jackson said sarcastically.
Giles reached for his phone. “I’m calling Mark and Jenna.” Jackson frantically moved to put his hand over Giles’ on the receiver.
“Don’t.” Jackson cringed when his word sounded like a plea. “I’m not going back there.”
Giles tried to read Jackson’s expression, searching for something, when he noticed Jackson’s arm. His shirt was pulled up, revealing a deep purple bruise that marred his skin. “How did that happen?” Giles asked as Jackson pulled his sleeve down. “Let me see.”
Jackson shook his head. He didn’t want to have this conversation with Giles.
“Take your shirt off, Jackson.”
“Sorry, Giles, I don’t swing that way.”
“Shirt off now!” Giles ordered, anger slipping into his usual calm demeanour.
Jackson stood up with a defiant look on his face. Giles was tall, well over six feet, but Jackson met him eye level. Reaching over his shoulder, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a map of colors encompassing his entire torso. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.
“Jesus,” Giles gasped. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Jackson watched Giles’s eyes gloss over as he raked both hands down his face.
Jackson looked down at his chest; the bruises had been there so long he didn’t remember what it looked like without them. It didn’t hurt anymore; it had been a long time since he could feel the sting of the impact of Mark’s belt or fist. The beating was ultimately not the reason why he would never return. It was what Jenna did when she crawled in his bed to offer comfort.
Jackson watched Giles wipe his eyes and lean against his desk, his head down. Jackson just stared in disbelief, wondering why Giles would shed tears for someone as worthless as him.
“You’re coming home with me, Jackson. We are going to turn your life around.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lexie
Lexie huddled next to her mother in the back of the vehicle. One of the men had tied her hands and placed a cloth over her head. She had no idea where they were taking them. They had driven for what felt like hours. She clung to her mother, pressed close beside her. The vision of Jackson before the deafening flash exploded haunted her. She had been trying to get to him before the world was suddenly picked up and dropped in front of her, and she didn’t know which way to turn. Someone had grabbed her and pulled her out of the diner before she could process what was happening. Something about Jackson found a hold deep inside her, and very real fears tightened her chest painfully. She wanted to know he was safe. She wanted to know who he really was and how he knew her mother.
The need to ask her mother about Jackson’s accusation clawed at her. She knew her mother was terrified by the almost painful hold she had on her
hand. The words in her diary spoke of much hatred and fear of the man that now held them captive. She worried for her mother, knowing what John was capable of. She hoped desperately that Stephanie and Evan escaped unharmed. She needed to hold onto the hope that they all would survive this. It was the only thing keeping her sane.
Lexie felt herself drifting to sleep as the car pressed on; the only sound she could hear was her own breath, accentuated by the cloth over her face. She tried to force her eyes to stay open, but her body was exhausted, and as time passed she found it harder and harder to stay alert.
Lexie’s eyes snapped open when the car engine cut off. Adrenaline surged through her blood as the door opened and cool air rushed in. The temperature felt like the early hours of the morning before the sun rose. They must have driven all night. Lexie felt a hand clap on her arm and pull her toward the open door. “Get out,” a man barked close to her ear.
“Lexie!” her mother called out, trying to keep a hold on her, but Lexie was pulled out of the car. Her fingers slipped from her mother’s, and she was left grabbing at nothing. “Where are you taking me?” Lexie tried to gain traction by planting her feet firm and pulling against the man’s hold.
She spun around when she heard her mother struggle. “Mom!” Lexie screamed. The man pinned her arms against her chest and wrapped his arm around Lexie’s waist, pulling her feet from the ground. “Mom!” Lexie screamed again, but she could feel herself being carried away from her mother’s fading voice. Lexie tried kicking her feet, but the man did not even react to her efforts.
“Okay, okay, you can let me down. I’ll walk.” Lexie didn’t want to be manhandled anymore, and she had a hard time trying to pay attention to her surroundings while he carried her. “I won’t do anything stupid. You’re hurting me.”
“If you try to run I’ll catch you, and I promise I’ll make you regret it.” His voice was hard and unfeeling.
