by Melissa Jane
Jacob flinches for a second before whatever he was just feeling, turns to confusion. “Even after all this time, she still hasn’t told you?”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
Now it’s my turn to be confused. “What was she supposed to tell me?”
Jacob laughs incredulously, rubbing his jaw in annoyance and anger. “It all makes sense now.”
“What does?”
“Why you loathe the sight of me. It all makes perfect sense.”
“What does she have to do with any of this? If I remember correctly, she was the only one there for me when my life fell apart.”
There’s a poignant look in his eyes. “It’s because of her your world fell apart, Rosie.”
“I don’t understand.” I’m feeling somewhat incredulous on my mother’s behalf, which to be honest, doesn’t happen too often. “What the hell am I missing? Let’s just backtrack a bit. Did I somehow misinterpret you leaving me stranded for hours out of town? Have I somehow misconstrued you high-tailing it out of our relationship the day after you got what you wanted on the rooftop? As if taking my virginity and running wasn’t bad enough, you abandoned me the same day my father died of a stroke, and then high-tailed it again out of town to all of a sudden show up ten years later. So, tell me… what doesn’t make sense to you, Jacob? And how is any of that my mother’s fault?”
“The fact that your mother, after a decade, still hasn’t told you the truth!”
Mr. Lynch’s voice taunts from his dark corner. “Because it seems all those closest to you, including Jacob, have been lying to your face.”
“So, if you know, tell me.”
“I often wondered what she would say to justify it. Would she tell you the truth or would she add another lie upon lie? And then I wondered, if I ever saw you again, would I have the balls to tell you myself?”
I shiver. “Jacob, you’re scaring me. Please just tell me what the hell you’re talking about.”
“This isn’t something you want to hear, Rosie. Trust me on that. I’ve shouldered this knowledge for ten years, and I can promise you, it hasn’t gotten any easier.”
“If you cared at all for me, then or now, you will tell me.”
“And break your heart for a second time?”
“It can’t be any worse than the first.”
“I wish that were true,” he replies solemnly. “In this case, the truth could easily destroy us all.”
“You said you wondered all this time whether you should tell me. The universe pulled us back together ten years after you drove out of my life, so I’m certain, if ever you were to tell this… truth that will destroy us, the time is now.”
~
Jacob
THEN
I gently kiss Rosie’s nose, careful not to wake her. This is the first time she’s slept peacefully in a long while, and I smile as she lays holding my hand, softly breathing, one leg hooked over mine. I can’t help myself and brush the few strands of hair off her cheek, feeling silky smooth skin beneath my touch.
Rosie Reign is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
Last night, she’d given herself completely to me, and that’s now an image permanently etched in my brain—vulnerable, seductive, confident, and innocent—a raw mix she wore well, like a fucking goddess.
Slowly moving my leg and hand from under hers, I slip out of the makeshift bed and slide on my pants. The fairy lights above still intimately shine a golden hue on her jet-black hair that cascades over her naked back. Pulling the blanket over her shoulders, I look at the time. It’s only two in the morning, and I’m thirsty as all hell. Finding my collared shirt, I leave it unbuttoned and go in search of drinks.
Knowing we’re dry on the rooftop, I take the fob key with me and head down the elevator to my father’s floor where I know he keeps a stocked fridge. The hall is dark as are the offices straight out of the elevator, but a light at the end casts enough glow for me to see. It also happens to be where I’ll find my stash. I round the corner ill-prepared for what is awaiting. I stop dead in my tracks, the sight rendering me dumb and mute. My father’s office is walled by floor-to-ceiling glass because “transparency is key to success.” But as the cold chill sweeps over my skin the same time my blood boils, I feel the urge to vomit because transparent is not what these two have been.
“What the fuck!”
I want to run.
I want to run back up to the rooftop and get Rosie far away from here.
I want to be sick in the trash bin next to me.
I want to tell my mother for the two-hundredth time that she should have left my father years ago.
I want to erase this vision from my memory.
I want to gut my father like fish.
But I don’t, and can’t, do any of that.
Instead, I watch as my red-faced and sweating father thrusts angrily into a woman who could easily be Rosie in two decades. The long black hair flowing over her back before being twisted in my father’s fist as he fucks her from behind. The same pale, snow-white skin that my beautiful Rosie inherited hers from.
I’m sickened by the sight.
But if Rosie witnesses this, it will destroy her.
I flee, needing to put as much distance between them and me before I explode. Running, I take the stairs two at a time until I’m back on the roof and watching Rosie, still with the same peaceful disposition.
I can’t tell her the truth.
I can’t tell her I just saw my dad and her mom fucking in the office only a few floors below us.
I can’t breathe a word of this to her.
Shaking, I unlock my cell and dial the one person who can put an end to this.
“Pick up, Mr. Reign,” I plead under my breath while pacing back and forth like a crazed caged animal. “Fucking pick up!”
When it goes to voicemail, I end the call and stare at the girl I love. The girl I’ve loved since freshman. The girl who I hoped one day will be my wife. If she says yes.
Rubbing my face, I step back, my movement taking me further away until I’m out the rooftop door and taking the elevator to the basement. The faster I go, the faster this will sort itself out, and Rosie will never have to know. But as I speed through the quiet streets back home, I have a sinking feeling I won’t be able to protect her from this no matter what I do.
~
“Mr. Reign?” I yell through the house, trying to find Rosie’s dad. The door had been unlocked, and all the lights are switched on making it the beacon on the otherwise dark street. “Mr. Reign, where are you?”
Finding the house empty—because I know the Reign girls are not here—I search outside and find Rosie’s dad on one of the sun lounges.
“What the hell are you doing?” I mutter, jogging down the deck stairs to the pool. “Mr. Reign?” When I get no answer, I call again, “John?”
Still nothing.
On approach, I notice a three-quarter empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. A dreaded shiver courses through me.
“Mr. Reign, are you all right?”
He slowly turns his head blinking twice before addressing me. “Jacob? Why aren’t you with Rosie?” His words are slurred, but he’s not drunk. He just seems dazed like someone on a drug high.
“Rosie’s safe.”
Do I tell him?
Do I risk fucking up his night more than it already seems?
Perhaps he already knows. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be out here drinking on his own.
“Mr. Reign, did you know?”
“Know what?”
“Did you know your wife and my father are having an affair?”
I swallow hard and await his response, but his bizarre and confusing reaction is far from what I expected. A slow smile spreads across his face, and soon he’s laughing, staring up at the sky while he finds humor in what I’m asking. For a moment, the vision unsettles me, like I’m watching a truck careening into stationary traffic, the driver seeing what’s in front of h
im but indifferent to the carnage about to unfold. And I’m the angry bystander waving the red flags and screaming at him to stop.
The rage I felt from earlier boils over, his response pushing me to breaking point. “You knew?” I spit out the accusation. “All this time… you knew, and you let it continue?” My one lifeline evaporates before my very eyes, and my heart breaks for Rosie.
He shrugs his shoulders in defeat. “I knew she was fucking someone.” The smile drops from his face and is replaced with a deep-seated sadness. “But I didn’t know it was Jim Lynch.”
He slips back into his drug-like haze, and I lose my temper. Snatching the whiskey bottle, I hurl it onto the pool deck, the bottle exploding on impact.
Mr. Reign doesn’t flinch.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I seethe, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. “You weren’t supposed to be like this. You’re supposed to help and give a fuck.”
Completely unfazed, Mr. Reign barely meets my eyes. “I can’t do anything to fix this.”
“The fuck you can’t. You are the fucking adult. You’re all the fucking adults. So, fix this.”
“Jacob, you can’t fix what’s already gone up in flames.”
I pull away, wiping my lips with the back of my hand, contemplating how the best night of my life has suddenly fucked itself right up.
“Mr. Reign, I understand you’ve given up on your wife, or she’s given up on you, or however it goes, but please… fix this for Rosie. She’ll be devasted if she finds out. Please, you have to fix this somehow.”
It’s like a switch goes off in his head. At the mention of his daughter’s name, Mr. Reign sits up, looking surprisingly sober. “You’re right,” he says, taking my arm to pull himself to his feet. “I’ll get this sorted. I promise.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out a wad of cash and hands it to me. “Take this.”
I stare at the notes before eyeballing him. “Why?”
“Take Rosie out of town for a few days while I try and sort matters out.”
“Where are we going to go? She’s not going to want to leave spur of the moment.”
Placing a hand on my shoulder, Mr. Reign takes a deep breath. “Jacob, my daughter will listen to anything you tell her to do because she’s head over heels in love with you. So, if you say you’re going interstate for a couple of days, she’ll follow. But Jacob… don’t come back early. Stay a few days, at least.”
A chill meets my bones, and I’m not sure why.
“Promise me you won’t come back?”
I nod, but that’s not good enough. “I promise.”
“I’ll take care of it. Now go.”
Something’s not right. I feel it deep down into my soul, but all I can think about is getting back to Rosie.
“Go!” he orders once more, and I run back up the stairs before he stops me. “Jacob?”
I turn, waiting for him to tell me everything will be all right, but then he says something completely unexpected. “I was wrong about you, Jacob. You’re a good man. Look after my girl for me.”
And there it is again. That sinking feeling like everything is about to spiral further out of control. Back in the house, a hard lump restricts my throat, and tears of rage blur my vision. I’m assaulted by visuals of my father fucking Amanda Reign, and my soul is troubled by the unexpected tone of the conversation I’ve just had. I storm down the hall and see my house through the open front door, my fist pounding into the drywall on the way out.
All these so-called adults can go fuck themselves, once they’ve finished fucking each other.
~
Sitting with my feet dangling over the building, I watch the sunrise, having rehearsed twenty different ways about how to convince Rosie we need to leave town. I’ve had plenty of time to mull over my thoughts. When I arrived back, I stormed up to my father’s floor ready to confront the assholes, but they’d both left, and I know it wasn’t for home because I didn’t pass either of them on the way. I contemplated how to tell my mother. While she is a seasoned professional at handling my father’s abuse, she also has a huge heart which suffers cruel blows from the man she married. This will crush her.
“Jacob,” a sweet but troubled voice calls, and I turn around to see her panicked face.
Does she know already?
With the pink and orange hues tinting her skin, Rosie is simply breathtaking, and for a moment, I lose myself in her before panic sets back in. She starts talking, something about going home, but I’m in a daze much like her father had been.
A response slips from my mouth before I have time to adjust my tone, and she flinches, worry crossing her wide eyes.
You’re scaring her. Get a hold of yourself!
I plead with Rosie to trust me, but she’s cautious.
I sell the idea like a used car salesman, but she flinches. And then I become the Jacob Lynch she loves so much, and she relaxes.
I lie straight to her face.
And she believes me.
Just like her father said she would.
~
It’s a car ride from hell.
The further we drive away, the more excited Rosie becomes, planning for everything and needing to stop for the resources we’ve left behind. But the longer I drive, the more that sinking feeling returns.
I never thought this feeling was possible, where it feels like a hand reaches down your throat and slowly drags out your organs. One by fucking one.
But none-the-wiser, Rosie flicks through my cell for music and settles on ‘Yer Blues’ by the Beatles. It’s not a favorite of mine. I don’t even like the song, but it was a tune we had studied in junior music. I knew the words. I understood their heavy meaning.
“My dad listens to this,” she murmurs, and I blanch, my knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.
‘Don’t come back early. Promise me you won’t come back.’
Surely, there’s no connection.
Surely, I’m just overtired and riled up, and now my mind is creating its own cruel stories like I need more to add to my collection.
Surely…
~
Rosie quietly sings to herself as she cruises the aisles with her shopping cart. We’ve stopped almost an hour and a half out of town for supplies, and if it had been any other time and a different circumstance, I’d be enjoying it as much as Rosie. But that’s simply not case.
The shopping clerk eyes us with curiosity. Two teens, disheveled from the night before wearing formal attire, shopping for an impromptu road trip. I don’t say anything to Rosie. I don’t stop her from loading the cart to the brim with things we don’t need. I don’t tell her to put back on the shelf the mini gas stove because although she’s not the type of girl who can easily divert off a plan, she seems to be taking my irrational behavior and bizarre suggestions all in her stride.
And she looks fucking happy.
And I can’t break her heart.
So, she can keep the fucking mini gas stove.
My cell chimes as she’s looking at sundresses. Ugly ones the store has to offer, but she’ll make them beautiful.
It’s Mr. Reign.
My stomach somersaults, all the thoughts from earlier sneaking up on me like a tidal wave. I click on his name and almost vomit, the words punching me in the gut.
Mr. Reign: Tell my Rosie I’ll always love her.
“Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare,” I mutter while stalking out to the front of the store. Trembling, I dial his number within moments after receiving his message yet, there’s no answer. It ends in voicemail, so I hang up and try again. Nothing.
“You fucker. Answer the phone. Don’t you fucking dare do this.”
I’m aware there are tears slipping down my cheeks as I pace in front of the door, but I simply need him to pick up the phone. I try one more time before voicemail.
Yer Blues…
Sweat drips pools in my palms, my mind sending me into a tailspin. I dial Mrs. Reign because if she’s home, s
he can tell me if he’s okay. No answer. Probably still fucking my father. I ring Mom, but her cell is always on silent, and as I expected, she doesn’t answer. I dial 911, and when they answer, I explain the situation.
“I’m sorry, sir, all units are busy at the moment, but I’ll place your call as priority.”
After giving the operator Rosie’s address, I swallow the bile creeping its way up.
Why the fuck is this happening?
You should never have gone to Mr. Reign, the voice inside my head taunts. This is your fault.
“This is fucking bullshit,” I rage into my phone to absolutely no one. Swallowing the lump in my throat and my pride, I dial Dad. But just like the person he’s fucking, he too is busy.
“You fucking assholes!”
In that moment, I turn to see Rosie staring wide-eyed, not understanding the situation I’m trying to save her from, but a situation I’ve most likely unwittingly created. From inside the store, she’s still, watching, waiting for an answer she’s scared to know.
I don’t have time to weigh the decision. It’s going to end badly no matter what I choose to do, but if I can prevent the worst-case scenario from happening…
‘I’m sorry,’ I mouth knowing she can’t hear me.
‘Jacob?’ she calls, running through the store.
But it’s too late because within moments, I’m tearing out of the parking lot. If it turns out to be a false alarm, she can unleash her fury.
And as much as I hope that’s the case, the universe has stuck up its middle finger and given us a big fuck you.
~
Unlike only a few hours earlier, the house is locked up, the front door is going unanswered despite the banging. The windows I peer through are void of life. I call out to him, but there’s nothing. Skirting around the house, I search for a window to break. I see it from the corner of my eye, through the garage side window, and I still, my heart pounding as I weigh up whether my mind is playing tricks. My hand starts a nervous, involuntary tap on my leg, and I’d give anything to reset the last few hours.
