Tribulation and Truths

by L A Cotton

  “Do you know what you’re going to say?” I asked, still watching the world whiz by in a blur.

  “I’m going to tell him to pull the stick out of his ass, grow some balls, and get to the hospital.”

  I laughed involuntarily. It was just so unlike Jackson.

  “And then I’m going to run in the other direction.”

  Glancing at Jackson out of the corner of my eye, I could see the smile on his face. The sadness was still glistening in his eyes, but he was smiling, and that was something.

  “He’ll listen to you.”

  “I hope so because I can’t lose him, Ana. I just can’t.”

  ~

  Everything about the Black’s house looked the same. There was no hint of the sick man living inside. Jackson had been quiet for most of the journey. When we finally rolled to a standstill, his hands were gripping the wheel so tightly the blood had drained from his knuckles.

  “Come on, they’re waiting,” I tried to coax him out of the car, but he remained staring ahead. “Jackson.”

  “Just give me a couple of minutes. You go on inside. I’ll be right in.”

  Hearing the finality in his voice, I made my way to the door. The door opened and V swept me into her thick arms. “Thank you, Jesus; he’s driving me crazy.”

  Her eyes must have landed on Jackson over my shoulder because she stilled and said, “What’s he doing?”

  “He needs a couple of minutes.”

  “Okay, let’s get you inside. I baked.”

  I followed V into the house, the smell of pie floating out from the kitchen. My stomach rumbled, and I clutched a hand to my midriff.

  “Smells good, V.”

  We reached the kitchen and V ushered me into a chair before pushing a plate of apple pie in front of me.

  “Eat up, honey.” She took the seat across from me, and I could feel her eyes watching me. When I glanced up, she looked back at the hallway before leaning over the table. “Before he comes inside, is everything okay? We worry about the two of you being there still, under his watchful eye.”

  I ducked my head, poking the fork at the pastry trying to deflect her question. It wasn’t that I was caught off guard. This was how Velma Black operated—straight to the questions. But what did I say? I didn’t know how much they knew; Jackson worked hard to keep them away from anything having to do with Marcus, but news traveled fast in these parts, and I had many suspicions that Otis made it his business to know things where Jackson was concerned.

  V’s eye’s burned into my head, and I felt a pang of guilt for not giving her an answer. Thankfully, Jackson appeared in the doorway behind me before I could answer.

  “Everything is okay, V. Don’t worry about us. Not when you’ve got enough on your plate.” Jackson walked up behind her and planted a kiss on her head before taking the seat next to me. “This looks good. Is there a slice for me?”

  “I’ll get some answers one way or another, Jackson,” V huffed as she left the table to plate up another piece of pie.

  “So, where is the old man?”

  “Who you calling old man, kid?” a hoarse voice called from somewhere in the house, and seconds later, Otis walked into the kitchen.

  Only he wasn’t the Otis we left last time we visited. He was frail and his weathered skin seemed to sag off his bones. Sunken eyes stared back at us, scrunching into a scowl. “Don’t just sit there staring. Help this old man into his favorite chair.”

  Jackson leaped up, going to Otis’ aid. When Otis slouched against him, we both shared a look. Otis was worse than we thought. With each step toward his chair, energy seemed to leave Otis and I could see him growing weaker by the second. His grand entrance had obviously taken everything he had and now he was fatigued.

  “That’s better.” He sighed as Jackson helped him get situated. “Now fetch some of that soup, Velma.”

  V muttered something to herself but dropped what she was doing to fulfill her husband’s demands. The scene pulled my heart in two. On the one hand, it was incredibly humbling to watch a wife tend to her sick husband, but it was also so sad that I had to blink back tears. If Otis refused treatment, then he would be gone sooner rather than later, and V would be alone. My chest cracked, and I dropped my eyes.

  ~

  “He looks so sick.” I shuffled to my side and then rolled in Jackson’s arms to face him.

  “He is sick. I looked at the letters from Providence. If he doesn’t start the chemo soon, then they won’t be able to help him.”

  “And what did he say when you talked to him?”

  Jackson had spent the afternoon with Otis while V took me into Tillamook to the grocery store. Jackson had been quiet all through dinner, so I already knew the answer.

  “He won’t get the treatment. He doesn’t want to be poked and prodded like some test subject. His words, not mine.” Jackson’s jaw clenched and I felt the frustration rolling off him. “He wants to go on his terms. Spouted some shit about God’s plan.”

  Burying my head in Jackson’s chest, I let myself shed a tear for a man who had become a part of my family as much as Jackson had.

  “I want to respect his wishes, but he’s giving up too easy. Ana,” Jackson pulled my head from his skin and tilted my chin. “What do I do here?”

  “Let me talk to him. Tomorrow, I’ll talk to him.”

  If Jackson couldn’t get through to him, then I doubted I would. But maybe I had something that would make him listen.

  “I’ll take V into town to see Mrs. Gunnings. Otis loves you as his own, Ana.” Jackson pressed a kiss to my forehead and closed his eyes.

  I lay in his arms waiting for him to fall to sleep. He needed it more than me. Sure, I was sad, but losing Otis would devastate Jackson, and I was worried it would drive him off the deep end. A setback we did not need.

  My phone vibrated on the nightstand behind me, and I inched my body around, careful not to disturb Jackson too much, which was difficult given the tiny single bed we were crammed on.

  You forgive him so easily. Would you forgive him if you knew the kinds of things he does while on ‘business?’

  Dread filled my stomach like a swarm of bees. Who was doing this? My money was still on Briony, but something about the texts bothered me. The tone of them didn’t feel like Briony. She was batshit crazy and as mean as they came, but if she wanted to get to me, then she wouldn’t hide behind an unknown number. She’d own the messages, signing them with her name and an xo. But if it wasn’t Briony, then who could it be?

  ~

  Jackson and V left early. I showered and made myself breakfast while Otis slept. V said he tended to have fitful nights, awake on and off from the pain, but then slept for a solid few hours early in the morning. Something about the buildup of pain meds. When I finally heard him coughing, I made him a glass of juice. I counted out his tablets, just as V had shown me, and made my way to his room.

  I knocked gently. “Otis, it’s Ana. Are you awake?”

  He cleared his throat again, before rasping, “I’m awake.”

  Taking that as permission to enter, I pushed the door open with my hip. The room was dimly lit, but I could make out Otis lying in the center of the king-size bed. He’d propped himself up to help with his coughing, and when he started to struggle to clear his throat, I went to his side and offered him the drink.

  “Thank you. Damn cough is getting worse,” he spluttered still trying to catch his breath. “Take a seat. I’m guessing this isn’t just a passing visit.”

  “I had hoped we could talk.”

  Otis made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. “Ain’t no talking going to change my mind, girl.”

  His dismissive attitude did little to deter me. Otis had a tendency to go on the offensive when he felt backed into a corner or just didn’t like something.

  Figuring there was no point in dragging this out, I said, “Why won’t you get the treatment?”

  “It’s a man’s right to decide how he leaves thi
s Earth, little lady. You should keep your nose out of places they don’t belong.”

  I remained quiet. Otis was a man in pain, physical and emotional. I saw it in his eyes, but more than that, I resonated with it.

  “Why would I want to leave my house to go to the hospital and let them mess with me? I’ve seen what chemo does to people. You think this is bad; it’s nothing compared to what it would be like. You think I want my Velma seeing me like that?”

  “I think she’d choose more time with you. If that’s what the treatment meant, then I think she’d choose the treatment.”

  Otis huffed again.

  “Velma isn’t ready to lose you. Jackson, too. Even me. We like having you around, believe it or not. Losing you would kill him, Otis. Things are hard enough for him right now, I don’t-”

  “You better not be trying to guilt me into something I don’t want, Miss Parry.” Otis straightened against the pillows and narrowed his eyes at me. “It’s a dangerous game if you are.”

  “Guilt you? No. But trying to make you realize that there are people in this world who want you to fight this? Yes, I hold my hands up. Fight this, Otis. For Velma, for the lost man out there, for me. Fight it for yourself. Because the Otis Black I know is a fighter.”

  And we all need you to fight this.

  I reached out to squeeze his frail hand before leaving the room without another word.

  ~

  Otis didn’t reappear during our stay. Jackson tried to talk to him a couple of times, but Otis refused to say a word. When he didn’t join us for the quiet Thanksgiving meal V prepared, I was beginning to worry that I had pushed him too far.

  “Whatever you said, it must have hit a nerve.” Jackson shifted behind me on the sand as we watched the waves roll onto the shore.

  The wind whipped around us, and I pulled down the beanie covering my head. Jackson wanted to visit the beach before we headed back to Chastity Falls. I knew he felt closer to his dad when he was near the ocean.

  “I just hope I didn’t go too far.”

  Jackson brushed my tangled hair off my scarf-covered neck and pulled down the wool to reveal my skin. “Not possible.” His lips brushed my neck, sending my body into overdrive. “You are the most inoffensive person I know.”

  “Inoffensive, huh?” I batted my hand behind him in an attempt to swipe his chest.

  “Inoffensive, thoughtful, caring, passionate, I could go on.” He smiled against my skin and I wanted to freeze frame this moment—before we arrived back at CFA and everything went back to shit. It was as if we lived under a dark cloud there, and it was sucking us dry.

  “I suppose now wouldn’t be the best time to tell you I got another text.”

  Jackson cursed under his breath. “What happened to no more secrets?”

  “It wasn’t a secret. I was just waiting for the right time to tell you. Now seemed appropriate.”

  “Let me see.” Jackson’s hand snaked around my waist, and I fumbled in my pocket, dropping my cell into his hand.

  The message flashed up on the screen, and we both read it.

  “Who the fuck is this? I swear when I find out, I’ll-”

  “You’ll what, Jackson?” The words flew out of the mouth and I instantly regretted them.

  “Ana, you know I don’t mean…” He hesitated. “Christ, this shit is messed up.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Nothing. Act as if nothing is up. Whoever it is might slip up, but if you notice anything around campus, anything, Ana, you come straight to Dennis or me. I’m not taking any chances. Not this time.” Jackson handed me back the phone and drew me into his chest, holding me tight.

  Act as if nothing is up.

  Story of my life.

  Chapter 14

  ~ JACKSON ~

  Since arriving back at CFA, things went from shit to downright fucked. I’d been in a pissy mood the whole ride back after Otis refused to come out of his room and say goodbye to us. We hadn’t been back an hour when Dennis came to the house to inform me that a student ended up being rushed to the medical center following a party on campus. Rumors were flying that he had been seen cutting lines and snorting that shit through a rolled up twenty. Dennis had gone down to Tillamook Regional but couldn’t get much information out of them. Patient confidentiality. If the state police started sniffing around, then things could blow up pretty quickly.

  “We tracked down as much as we could. Had to bribe a couple of stoners for their stash.” Travis threw down a handful of clear baggies filled with white powder. “People are starting to talk, man. This is not good for business.”

  “Damn straight. Weed isn’t going to make anyone rich quick. This shit needs to be resolved.” Kyler paced the basement glancing in our direction every few steps.

  “Sit the fuck down; you’re making me dizzy,” Dennis bellowed and even I flinched. Dennis was always calm and collected. The guy was so together he barely cracked a smile.

  “What’s wrong, Hayes? Got your panties in a twist over some little slut?”

  “What did you just say?” Dennis was off the seat and storming toward Kyler, who froze on the spot, his eyes bugging out of his head.

  “I, I was joking, man. Someone said they saw you arguing with a chick. I figured that’s what had you in a shitty mood. I was just jok-”

  Dennis plowed straight through Kyler, pinning him to the wall. “Don’t ever fucking open your mouth about shit you know nothing about, got it?”

  Travis and Shaun looked at me to see if they should intervene, but I shook my head. It was about time Kyler was knocked down a peg or two. But they weren’t the only ones shocked by Dennis’ behavior. Kyler had hit a nerve, and I was going to find out what.

  “I said sorry, didn’t I. Get the fuck off me.” Kyler shrugged out of Dennis’ hold and skulked over to the table, but I was more interested in Dennis. The way he was standing—one hand against the wall, taking deep breaths—yeah, something was definitely up with him.

  “I’m going to ask Uncle Marcus again about news from Reibeckitt. We need to keep a lid on this from our end.” My eyes flashed to Dennis who was walking back to the table. “If the guy talks to the cops, then we could have a major issue on our hands.”

  “He won’t talk.” Dennis didn’t add why, and I felt no need to ask.

  “Okay, keep your ears to the ground. I’m at a thing tonight. If anyone needs me, then text.”

  “A thing? Without us?” Shaun drawled, pouting like a child.

  “He’s got new friends or hadn’t you noticed?” Kyler added not even bothering to disguise the bitterness in his voice.

  “It’s just a small thing. Ana and her friends. I’ll catch up with you all tomorrow. Go get drunk and get laid or something.”

  “Damn straight,” Shaun cheered.

  “A word,” I mouthed to Dennis.

  We made our way out of the basement and up to his room.

  “Going to tell me what the hell that was about?”

  Dennis folded his arms across his chest, and I knew he wasn’t ready to tell me. “Not really.”

  “Okay, let’s try it my way. Kyler mentioned a girl? Is he right?”

  Dennis’ eyes hardened and he shrugged ambivalently.

  “Is she going to be a problem?”

  Dennis never kept a girl around for longer than necessary. He knew it just wasn’t possible in this life. I’d made the exception with Ana and look how well that was turning out.

  He shook his head and said, “This gathering…am I invited?”

  I smirked. “You can come as my plus one.”

  “Who’s going?”

  “It’s a thing for Cormack. Mari asked Ana if she could use the house, and Ana didn’t want to say no. Manster, Jamie, Nate, his girlfriend, Elena, Cassie, I guess.”

  “Nah, I’ll pass,” he said a little too quickly, and I arched my eyebrow not convinced by his words.

  “Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  ~

  �
��Who are all these guys? I thought you said it was just a small gathering?”

  Ana grimaced and shrugged her shoulders. “That’s what Mari told me. I didn’t expect this.”

  We stood against the kitchen counter watching Paul, Mari, and the rest of the guys mingle with a group of guys and girls I didn’t recognize. They’d been here for at least two hours and what started as a few friends having a few beers was starting to get rowdy. Someone had cranked up the music and a couple of Mari’s guests had started dancing in the corner of the living room. My eyes traced over the unfamiliar faces until I sensed someone staring back at me. The tall blonde was blatantly eye fucking me and when she noticed me looking right at her, she had the balls to skim her tongue over her bottom lip.

  I glanced down at Ana beside me. Fuck. This was the last thing I needed.

  “Jackson, get the hell over here, man. We need to get the birthday boy fucked up,” Tyson bellowed, sparking a round of hell yeahs.

  Ana nudged me forward. “Go. Might as well try to enjoy the rest of the night, right?”

  If it were up to me, I’d have shut the party down by now. I wasn’t excited at the thought of having to entertain Ana’s friends all night, but a houseful of unwelcome guests was even worse.

  I passed Mari on the way over to Tyson and the guys. She swayed on her feet slightly, her drink sloshing out of her Solo cup.

  “Oops, I think I’m drunk. Jackson, oh hey, Jackson. Thanks for letting me use your house; I wanted to do something nice for Paul.”

  I nodded and mumbled something about Ana being on her own. The girl was crazy enough sober let alone wasted.

  “The man of the hour.” Jamie slung his arm around my neck and pulled me to his side.

  “Hey, aren’t I supposed to be the man of the hour? It’s my birthday, fuckwit,” Paul complained.

  “Don’t get all emotional. I just meant it’s cool of Jackson to let us crash his place.”

  “It’s no big deal,” I stated, slipping out of Jamie’s hold.

  Ever since news traveled about Braiden’s incarceration and my promotion, Jamie was sniffing around me like a lingering smell. He was an okay guy, just a little too eager to ride on the back of his family’s connections. I had just figured the Mackleys were just another wealthy family making money from not entirely legal activities, but since Seattle, my eyes had been opened, and it was a possibility that they also had mob connections.