“Oh, that!” I giggle. “Yeah, yeah, sure. I mean, technically, I think we’re all supposed to help each other out in here. You know?” I fight hard to keep myself from looking as flustered as he’s making me feel. The distinctive heat spreading over my cheeks is telling me I’m not doing that great of a job hiding it though. “But, I’d, um, I would like if we tried that.”
Jake’s smile makes the heat I was feeling in my cheeks rush through my entire body. I’m done with wondering how he can make me feel this way with just a look. It doesn’t matter. He just does. For once, I’m going to stop overthinking and enjoy it.
“Get the fuck out of my seat, shithead,” the room snaps back into crystal clear focus as Carl kicks the leg of Jake’s chair.
What the fuck is this guy’s problem? Jake’s smile evaporates as he snarls up at the idiot who has been following me around Edgewood like a stalker since I checked in. Every woman has dealt with some version of Carl. The guy who talks too close. The guy looms around you like he’s marking his territory. The guy whose creepy stares make you want to scrub a layer of your skin off in a hot shower. The shitty thing about a place like this is, I can’t just leave at the end of the day and not worry about him. He’s always lurking in the shadows, ready to assault my personal space with his delusional attempts to claim me.
“Listen man, because this is a one time warning, get the fuck out of my face. Now!” Jake lurches forward in his seat, snarling.
Across the room, Mabel interrupts the growing tension, “Carl, go sit yourself down and stop making a damned fool of yourself.” Her sweet, granny face furrows with wrinkles.
Carl looks over his shoulder at her and then sneers down at Jake. I can see every muscle in Jake’s arms tense as he looks like he’s about to pounce from his seat.
Carl shrugs and rolls his eyes, “Whatever man. I don’t really want to sit by this little bitch anyway,” he turns to find another seat and Jake almost knocks him off balance when he pops up to his feet.
“What did you just say?” He growls.
Carl turns back to face Jake. Their noses are little more than an inch apart. Jake’s eyes narrow and his shoulders hunch forward as he balls his big hands up at his sides.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Carl answers mockingly, “you’re right. My bad. I shouldn’t have called her a bitch. Not when she’s clearly a fucking slut,” the words that I’ve heard Knox say more times than I can count feel like a slap to the side of the head. Carl shoves Jake’s shoulders back, but he doesn’t budge.
Jake’s fist jabs up quickly, so fast that I don’t have time to blink before it’s over, and lands right under Carl’s rib cage. The hiss of his breath leaving his body fills the room like a balloon being let go before it’s tied off. The creep falls to his knees opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, trying to gasp of lungful of air. I grip the edges of my seat, watching as Carl sputters for his breath.
“Looks like you’re the little bitch now,” Jake’s voice is rough like gravel.
“What are you doing?” All eyes in the room flicker over to the door to the office. Standing there, with his clipboard and a grimace is Gavin.
“Carl started it!” Mabel jumps in.
Gavin holds up his hand and she falls silent. “I don’t care who started it, I’m ending it. Jake, Carl, let’s go. You’re getting discharged.”
11|Jake
From the waiting room, I can hear Gavin inside the office. Even if his voice wasn’t as loud as it is, I’d have no problem listening since the door is open.
“I want them both out, not just Carl. This one has been nothing but a disruption since he walked in. I’ve been doing this long enough to know who’s going to take their recovery seriously and who isn’t,” he yells.
I’m the only one seated in a line of chairs against the wall. Carl is already being discharged after everyone gave statements about who started that shit.
Clenching my jaw, I stare straight ahead as I eavesdrop. I can’t catch a break. I mean, being in shit seems to be the only thing I’m good at these days. I don’t care. I would drop that fucker again in a second for what he said.
I saw how it hurt her. How his pathetic name-calling clouded over her sky blue eyes as she hunched over, defeated. As if I was going to let him degrade her. Like fuck. That asshole got what he deserved.
Now what’s going to happen to me?
I hold my breath and tilt my head as I strain to hear the Director answer. “Gavin, it’s not your job to decide who will recover and who won’t. It’s your job to break through to them and guide them through this program,” she answers calmly.
“But, this is different…”
“The decision has been made. It’s final. I won’t argue with you. Carl is being processed to leave and Jake is staying. That’s that.”
I wait to hear my counselor’s rebuttal, but instead I sit a little straighter in my chair as he comes huffing out of the office and storms past me. I stand up, not sure if that means I’m free to go, or what? Before I have a chance to overthink it, a tiny woman with huge, clunky heels comes clopping out to the waiting room.
She can’t stand taller than five feet, and that’s with the heels. Her severe, black pantsuit matches her severe, black hair that’s neatly pulled back into a bun. Her oversized, round glasses make her look like an owl.
“Jake, please come into my office. We need to have a word,” she holds out her hand to lead the way and I comply. For such a small woman, she is daunting. Her thin-lipped, no nonsense attitude is one I’ve seen many times with military brass.
I silently make my way into her cozy office. Sitting in the plush, leather chair in front of the desk, I soak in the array of diplomas framed on her wall as she makes her way to her seat.
“I’m Edna Morehouse,” she begins, somehow sitting evenly with me from across her large desk. Is she sitting on a phonebook back there? “I run this facility.”
“Hi, Ms. Morehouse. I’m Jake Armstrong.”
“I know.” She nods. “And Edna is fine. We all use first names here. Even the staff.”
“Uh, ok,” I glance down at the file folder lying in front of her.
She opens the cover and looks inside at the first sheet. From where I’m sitting, I can see my name typed on the top.
“It’s only your second day here, Jake. For you to end up in my office at all during your stay is never a good thing. I’d say that you’re off to a rocky start, wouldn’t you?” She blinks at me from behind her absurdly large glasses.
“You can ask anyone who was there, I punched that guy in self-defense. It’s not like I started it, he attacked me,” I dive into my justification.
Edna simply holds up her hand and I clamp down my jaw.
“Cool it, hot shot. I know what happened. And, as you no doubt heard, you’re not being kicked out. At least, not today.” She lets the threat hang ominously between us as she skims over the rest of my documents.
“I’ve looked at your file, Jake. It seems to me, that you might want to focus your attention on your program. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, if you don’t graduate from rehab after your time here, you won’t have a position to go back to in the Navy SEALs. Isn’t that right?” Despite her stature, she seems to peer down her nose at me, like an owl on a branch. She has got to be sitting on a phone book.
“That’s right,” I sigh. She’s right. If I don’t get the green light from these people, then my career is over. The only job, scratch that, the only life I can ever imagine living would be nothing more than a memory. I shift in my seat and try to push the thought away.
“I’ll do better,” I answer. “I’ll focus,” I push the words through my gritted teeth.
“Good!” Edna beams cheerfully. I have to admit, I was more comfortable with the scowl. “I’m glad we could have this little chat then; you can go back to your routine now. I’m pretty sure it’s almost lunchtime,” she holds her hand up again, pointing to the door.
“Um,
thanks.” I stand up and make my way out.
“Oh, and Jake?” Her tone is cool; I turn around and her face has transformed back into a stone-cold stare.
“Yes?”
“I better not see you in here again, understand?”
I nod and walk out into the hall. I need to get it together. If they kick me out of here, that’s it. I have nothing to go back to. My job, my friends, hell, my entire life has been the SEALs since I graduated high school. If I lose them, I lose everything.
12|Holly
Is that him? No.
Disappointment floods through me as I watch another man walk into the dining hall and head over to the counter. Ever since Jake was hauled out of group this morning, I’ve been on pins and needles. Is he getting kicked out?
My heart sinks at the thought. I’ll never be able to sleep easily, knowing he was shown the door because of me. Well, because of how Carl was acting toward me. Still, it wasn’t his fault.
That’s not the only reason you’ll be upset, a little voice nags me.
I know it won’t be. I know that if Jake leaves, even though I barely know him, even though we may never meet again once we’re both out of here, I’ll miss him.
I try not to let the thought linger. I don’t like how it twists up in my gut and refuses to let go.
There he is! I jump up from my seat so fast that my chair almost topples backward. I steady it with my hand, also taking a moment to settle my nerves. Deep breaths.
Walking over to the counter on shaky legs, I try not to stare at him like a hunter narrowing a deer into their sights.
“Hey,” I try to sound casual as I lean against the food counter where he’s collecting his lunch.
“Hey yourself,” he smiles back.
Damn, my heart is thudding like a drummer at a band audition.
“I saved you a seat, back there,” I point to the little table stuffed in the back corner. I chose it purposely, hoping that, if Jake was staying, we would have a bit of privacy to talk. And, if it turned out he was leaving, it would give me a quiet place to cry.
“Looks good,” he agrees. “Lead the way,” he lifts his tray with the lunch special and follows me.
I can’t help it, I’m giving my hips a little swing as I make my way through the crowded tables to the back. I don’t have to turn around to know his eyes are on me, I can feel them.
We get settled in our seats and Jake nods at his plate, “Do you want some of these fries?” My eyes glide over salty, crispy, hot fries piled high beside his sandwich.
“No, that’s ok.”
“Are you sure?” He prods.
“Oh, ok, just one,” I quickly rescue a fry from his plate and pop it into my mouth as Jake chuckles and shakes his head slowly.
“What?” I tilt my head waiting to hear what’s so funny.
“Nothing, it’s just, women always say they’ll have just one fry and then they end up splitting them. I don’t know why you do that,” he takes a bite of his sandwich.
“I don’t know either,” I smile and grab another one of his fries.
I can see the twinkle of amusement in his blue eyes, but he doesn’t say anything about it.
For a moment, I’m lost in him. It’s amazing how just watching him can make the past, present and future blur around me like some kind of Van Gogh painting.
“Hey, I’m glad you waited for me. I wanted to find you. We need to talk,” his voice interrupts the slowly swirling time warp and brings me back to the moment.
“Sure,” I sit up straighter, “what do you want to talk about?”
“I’d like to apologize to you,” he answers before taking another bite of his roast beef sandwich.
“Apologize?”
“Yeah, say sorry,” he explains.
“I know what the word means,” I laugh, “why are you apologizing to me?”
Jake puts his food down and looks into my eyes, my breath catches in my throat. His eyes, they’re so intense. “I should’ve tried to deal with that asshole without, you know, being violent. I get the feeling that you’ve already dealt with enough of that from men,” he stares into me. At least, that’s how it feels. Like he’s watching my secrets, my thoughts, my fears, all play out on a screen.
“You picked up on that, huh?” I look down at my ragged nails, trying to push down the swell of shame rising inside me.
“I did.”
“How?” I force myself to meet his eyes again, even though it’s unnerving. “I never told you about any of that, hell, I haven’t told anyone here.” I search his face.
“I’m pretty good at reading people. It’s one of the things we learn in the SEALs. Knowing when people are lying, telling the truth, or hiding shit, can make all the difference between a mission being a success story or an epic failure.”
My eyes dart back down, I grab another fry from his plate and think about his words. Makes sense.
“Do you want to talk about it?” His hand grazes against the edge of mine. His touch is a whisper, so light, but somehow reassuring.
“I don’t think there’s much to say, really. I ran away from home when I was seventeen. Went from a small town to Miami and it was just too much for me. I didn’t know the first thing about surviving in the big city. It didn’t take long to feel like I was being swallowed whole.” I look up at him and he nods, waiting for me to finish.
“So, when I met Knox, my ex,” I explain, “it felt too good to be true. He was ten years older, had an amazing place, made amazing money, it all seemed like a fairy tale.”
“But it wasn’t?” Jake prods.
“Maybe like one of those Grimm Brothers ones. Where the happy endings are bleak and everyone has the plague.” I force a weak smile.
“Doesn’t sound good,” Jake smiles at my attempt to lighten the mood.
“No,” my smile slides off my face, “it wasn’t good. Far from it.” I pull another fry off his plate, but don’t eat it. I just hold it as clips and glimpses of memories fight for a spot in my brain. “It wasn’t good at all.”
“He was violent?” Jake lowers his voice.
“Yes. Very. At first I did the whole ‘he didn’t mean to really hurt me that badly’ thing. But it didn’t take long to see that he did. He got worse and I never left because… I didn’t have anywhere to go.” I confess to the table.
“Why did you leave home? Were your parents violent too?”
“No,” my voice is flat but firm. “They never laid a hand on me. Ever.” I emphasize.
He nods slowly, “you don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t be pushing you.”
“No, it’s ok. I left because,” I swallow the hard lump in my throat, “I left because I could never undo what I did and it ruined my family. It ruined our lives. I couldn’t take it anymore, the guilt, and the shame. Watching the sadness overtake their lives. Watching my neighbors shake their heads at me when I went out. Everywhere I went, I couldn’t escape.”
“I’m sure whatever you did couldn’t be that bad,” Jake soothes me.
Slow tears trail down my cheeks and my lower lip trembles, “It was,” I whisper.
“Let me tell you, I know this from experience, sometimes it feels like we’ve done the worst thing in the world when we’re in the middle of it, but it passes.”
“No, not with this.” My voice cracks.
“Why? What happened?”
“I have a twin sister, Heather.” I swallow hard, “Had,” I correct myself. “She died.”
“I’m sorry,” Jake grasps my hand, but I pull it back.
“She died, and I’m responsible. It’s my fault she’s dead.” The tears slide over my cheeks and gather on my chin. “It’s my fault.”
13|Jake
Holly drops her head into her hands and sobs uncontrollably. I gently lay my hand on her shoulder, trying to think of what to say. I have so many questions. What happened to her sister? How is it her fault? Obviously, she didn’t mean to do her any harm, or she’d be in jail instead of here
with me. As the tears drip from her palms and she chokes on her sorrow, it’s easy to see that, whatever happened, Holly believes wholeheartedly that it is her fault.
“Hey, it’s ok. Shhh, it’s ok,” I soothe her. She’s in no state to answer a bunch of questions that aren’t my business anyway. I want to pull her onto my lap with my arms wrapped around her tight and hold her against my chest until she feels better. However, in a place like this, you can’t do that. It’s considered inappropriate contact. It’s a violation of one of their fifteen million rules around here. My mind flashes back to my meeting with the Director. I’m already on thin ice. If they kick me out of here, my career in the SEALs is through. I look around the nearly empty cafeteria and spot one of the counselors wading past the sea of chairs toward us. I instinctively pull my hand back. The last thing I need is another reason for them to give me the boot.
But, it’s more than that, isn’t it? The thought crosses my mind. This isn’t about your career; you just don’t want to leave her behind.
The realization fires through me like lightening. For the first time in my twenty-seven years, I’ve met someone I really want to get to know, and not just physically. I mean, let’s not pretend I’m a saint, that’s definitely part of it, but it’s deeper than wanting to fuck her. I want to help her.
“Hey! You two! You’re late for the activity. Let’s get a move on!” A short, elderly woman with big, military style boots and khakis gives us our marching orders.
I choose to ignore the little dictator, turning my attention back to Holly. “Hey, are you going to be ok?” I murmur.
“Yeah, I will. I’m good,” she manages to pull herself together remarkably quick, sweeping her thumbs over her tearstained cheeks like two wiper blades on a car window.
“Did you hear me?” The counselor stomps over to our table, it’s impossible to tell if she’s scowling or if her face is just wrinkled in such a way that she always looks miserable.
“We were just heading out,” giving her the sweetest ‘let-me-get-you-your-next-drink’ smile I can manage.
Tinder Ella: A Modern Day Single Dad Fairy-Tale Page 48
