“He doesn’t know me, Jason. It’s been like, a hot minute. And did you miss the part where I told you all we do is argue?”
“That’s not all you do.” Mercy smirked.
I, on the other hand, didn’t see anything amusing. I still felt like shit that I’d offered him payback. Though, at the time, I didn’t see anything wrong with my offer. However, after Mercy had pointed out it was totally bitchy and low-down it was all I could think about.
“He knows you. The real Tuesday, not first date Tuesday.”
“What exactly does that mean?” My eyes narrowed on him and he smiled.
“Right, see, the two of you talk about men hiding who they are on dates. Women do it, too. And you know it, so don’t deny it. Jackson didn’t get any of that, he just got the good stuff. The real you.”
“None of that matters anyway. He left me.”
“So fix it.” That came from Mercy, all nonchalant, like it was no biggie.
“It’s not that easy,” I told her.
“Sure it is. Just call him.”
“I can’t. I don’t have his number. I deleted it. And besides, it’s for the best. He left and now we have a clean break.”
Man, it hurt just saying that. What was wrong with me? First, I pushed him away when he wanted me, and now that he’s gone, having done as I’d asked, I wanted him around.
“What do you mean you deleted his number?” she quietly asked.
“Never needed it. He just showed up.” When I wasn’t lying to myself, I could admit Jackson walking into my house filling my space with his presence had been the best part of my day. I’d known it the first time he’d dropped in, and the self-imposed isolation had fallen away. I’d purposely secluded myself, controlling the only part of my life I could—who I allowed close. So dumb. God, Gran was so right. I wasn’t living.
Mercy’s gaze went from me to Jason, before it swung back to me. She looked thoughtful and a little sad. She picked up one of my hands and squeezed.
“Honey,” she started on a whisper, and I braced. “Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?”
Fuck.
I’d said that to her. I’d given her the same line when she refused to take any of Jason’s five million calls begging for her to forgive him.
“That situation was different, and you know it. You and Jason were different. He loved you. You loved him. You’d hit a bump and all you needed was a push. It’s not the same.”
“Tuesday, it is. If you let go of all the hurt Travis left, you could move on. You deserve to be happy. But you have to learn to trust someone other than me and Gran.”
“I do.” I sat up straight. “I trust Jason.”
“Honey—”
“I can’t do this right now.” I stood and Mercy’s hand fell away. “I have to go visit Gran. I’m already late.”
Mercy stepped away and the second she was clear of the chair, Jason tagged her around the waist and pulled her close. Both looked at me with disappointment.
“Thanks for all your help. Both of you. Please call me after you look through the statements.”
Nothing. Not a word out of either of them. Just two identical, sad smiles as I walked out of Mercy’s office.
Damn, damn, damn.
Seeing the two of them together never failed to make me deliriously happy they’d found each other and slightly jealous I’d never have it for myself.
I’d never have the kind of love they shared, and it was no one’s fault but my own. I couldn’t even blame Travis. It was all me. I’d done this to myself.
19
Jackson
Between work and helping my dad around my parents’ house in preparation for Jason and Mercy’s wedding, I was dog dick tired. We’d just rehung all of the shutters my mom had wanted painted when I finished telling my dad what Douchebag of The Century Travis had done to Tuesday. His reaction was no less violent than mine.
I’d seen my dad pretty pissed over the years, but upon hearing about Tuesday’s troubles his reaction had to have been in the top five. Nick had been furious, too, and promised to look into the police reports.
“What the fuck?” Dad’s face was red, and it wasn’t from the heat of a day spent busting our asses for Mom.
“I talked to Ethan, and he told me almost the same thing Tuesday did. It’s not against the law to send someone flowers. And there isn’t much he can do about the note either. Even if he knew who wrote it. Best he could do would be trespassing, and if he could track down the person and explain to them Tuesday doesn’t want to have contact, he’d have to wait until they did something else for it to even be harassment.”
My dad continued to stare at me, blatant disgust was turning into determination. “I’ll have Brady head over to Tuesday’s today and install cameras. If nothing else, we’ll have eyes on her house.”
Brady was one of the men my dad and uncles had working for them. When my dad, Uncle Levi, Uncle Lenox, and Uncle Jasper had retired from the Army they’d started a consulting and security company. They trained the local PD and SWAT teams on tactical shooting and maneuvers. They’d also branched out into private security plans and alarm systems. Over the years they’d built a reputation for being the best, therefore, people paid top dollar for their services.
“I’d appreciate that, but she’s gonna have a shit hemorrhage. I think it’s best if I’m there when Brady shows.”
“We’re done here. I’ll call Brady and the two of you can go over there.”
“I’m giving her time,” I explained.
“Giving who time?” Quinn Walker asked, strolling our way.
Shit. I’d been so wrapped up talking with my dad, I hadn’t heard her come out the front door. Quinn wasn’t only Jason’s sister, she was also my best friend. Always had been, since we were toddlers running around causing havoc. I hadn’t told her about Tuesday. None of it. Quinn was a spitfire and hugely protective over those she loved. While Tuesday and I were battling it out, I didn’t want Quinn involved.
“Tuesday,” my dad answered.
Fuck.
“Tuesday?” Quinn cut her eyes to me. “Mercy’s friend? What are you talking about?”
Before I thought better of it, my dirty, paint covered hands scrubbed over my face.
“Nothing—”
“Are you dumb?” she blurted, and my dad chuckled.
“Come again?”
“Dumb, Jack. You know, stupid. Or do you just think I am? If you think any of us missed you looking at Tuesday like she was a juicy ribeye, you’re flat out a moron.”
“Well, tell me how you really feel,” I muttered.
“Okay, I will. I think you’re making a play for Tuesday, and she’s not catchin’ those plays. So, you probably did something boneheaded, mostly because you’re a man, but partly because you’ve never actually been into any of the women you’ve tagged, so now you’re all tied up and you don’t know how to untangle yourself.”
My dad’s chuckle turned into a belly laugh, and Quinn smiled proudly. Smartass.
There were two things I got from all of that: I was not as stealthy as I’d thought and Quinn paid attention. Unless, it was more of the first, and I sucked at hiding my thoughts.
“Truth? She has me tied in knots, but I don’t want to get myself untangled. Which means I need to give her time.”
“Did you do something stupid? Hurt her feelings?” Quinn continued.
“No. Nothing like that. I’ve been pushing, and she’s been resisting. Three days ago, she revealed why she’s been working so hard to get me out of her life. Her reasons for not trusting are valid. After she laid it all out for me, and when I tell you she laid it out, I mean, it leaked from her eyes and didn’t stop for hours, I realized I needed to slow down and stop pushing if I want to get in there.”
Quinn’s green eyes narrowed, and her hand went to her hip. For a little thing, she was fierce.
“Have you lost your ever-loving mind? Let me get this straight. Tuesday opens
up to you, tells you something painful, gives you her tears, and you repay that with time?” Her hand was no longer on her hip; it was pointing at my chest and she was approaching quickly. “Wrong. Way wrong, Jackson. When a woman gives you that, you never give her time.”
“Quinn, you don’t know Tuesday. She orders me out of her house practically every time I step in.”
“Um, yeah, I get that. You still don’t give her time. I’m sure it took a lot out of her to tell you what she did. And I don’t want to know what’s holding her back making it so she can’t trust you; it isn’t my business. But what I do know is she let down her walls and you’re giving her time to build them up again.”
“I didn’t just leave. I stayed all night and held her. I made sure she was okay the next morning before I left.”
My dad was staring at me and shaking his head and Quinn looked like she was going to blow.
“I love you, Jack, but you fucked up. Let me tell you this: if it was me and I poured my heart out to a man and the next morning he left, regardless that I was trying to deny I had feelings for him, I’d think he no longer wanted me. That the burden I carried was too heavy for him, and he’d figured out I was not what he wanted.”
“What? That’s not how I—”
“She’s right, son. You fucked up. Tuesday gave you a golden opportunity, she opened up, she was vulnerable, and you should’ve taken the opening and wedged yourself in.”
“Fuck!”
“That about sums it up. Time is not your friend. Not when you have to fight to gain every inch of ground.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I reluctantly pulled it out, praying it was not the station.
Ethan’s name flashed on the screen and I took the call.
“Where are you?” he asked before I could say hello.
“The ’rents house,” I told him.
“Get to Tuesday’s now. She just called. There was a note waiting for her when she got home. I’m headed there now.”
“Fuck. Did she tell you what it said?”
Not bothering to say goodbye to Quinn or my dad I jogged to my truck.
“Man, she could barely get out that she needed me to come over. She was crying but managed to get out that the note mentioned you, too.”
“Me?”
I was opening my door when my dad’s hand shot out, and he stopped me with a shake of his head.
“I’m leaving now. I’ll meet you there.”
“Out.”
I disconnected and turned to my dad and filled him in. He told me he’d meet me there after he handled Quinn and my mom. Five seconds later, I was in my truck peeling out of the driveway. I broke every posted speed limit between my parents’ and Tuesday’s house and pulled up right behind Ethan. He’d just gotten out of his car and was scanning the area.
Tuesday’s car door opened, and she stepped out looking over the roof. Her red, puffy eyes got big when they landed on me. Damn, I’d screwed up, I should’ve never left. I slammed my truck door and stalked to her. This was not the first time I’d seen her cry. But it was the first time I’d witnessed it being done in fear. And this would be the last.
I did my best to check my anger at seeing her scared before I stepped into her space and pulled her to me. She let out a squeak of shock but a heartbeat later, her arms were wrapped around me and her face was buried in my neck.
“Everything’s okay, Sweetness.”
“N-no, it’s not,” she cried.
Ethan joined us at the car, his gaze hard as he took in a sobbing Tuesday. He gave her the time she needed before he asked, “Where’s the note?”
“On the front porch. I didn’t touch it.”
With a nod, he was gone.
“Open your garage. We’ll go in through there.”
“I don’t have an opener. I never use the garage.”
Another thing that needed my attention. I’d meant to ask her why she didn’t park in the garage. It wasn’t safe for her to park in the driveway, especially when she came home late from a work trip.
I watched Ethan pick up the paper with a gloved hand and straighten. His face was unreadable when he gestured for us to go into the house.
“Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
She didn’t say a word, just allowed me to lead her to the front door. Ethan stepped aside and Tuesday unlocked and pushed the door open.
Once we were inside, she visibly relaxed. Motherfucker!
“What does it mean?” she asked Ethan.
“Not sure.”
He walked farther into the room, fished a large plastic bag out of his pocket, placed the note inside, and set it on the dining room table for me to read.
Back off, bitch, and tell your fucking boyfriend to mind his own business. I’m not fucking around, bitch. This is your only warning. If you don’t stop, you’ll both be sorry.
“What the fuck?” I seethed.
“’Bout sums it up. Hopefully we can pull prints off this one. If we can, you both can file an order of protection.”
I clamped my mouth shut. An order of protection was bullshit and Ethan knew it. Not to mention, there’d been no prints but mine on the first note.
“Sweetness?” I waited until she looked at me. Anxiety clear as day was written all over her face.
I thought about what Quinn and my dad had said. I’d messed up big time and given her space when I should’ve been crowding her. I should’ve continued as I was and not given her a chance to rebuild.
Fuck.
I moved the two feet needed and gathered her in my arms.
Kissing the top of her head I whispered, “Everything’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
“I’ll rephrase, everything is gonna be okay. Trust me.”
Her body went solid in my arms and Dad and Quinn were right. I’d fucked up thinking time was the answer. She’d rebuilt her fortress.
Nothing like starting back at square one.
20
Tuesday
My heart was pounding in my chest; it had been for the last thirty minutes. It had started when I’d opened my storm door and the note had flitted to the ground, face up. With each word I’d read the beating had intensified. I’d run back to my car, got in, locked the doors, and called Ethan. Then I waited. Ethan had shown up with Jackson in tow.
Jackson. He came.
Now I was in his arms and he was asking me to trust him. That was why my heart was threatening to explode from my chest. Not because of the note, though it was creepy and frightening. Especially the part about if we didn’t stop, we’d be sorry. I didn’t want to be sorry, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to stop. And I really didn’t want Jackson to be sorry.
Someone banged on the front door and I nearly jumped out of my skin, almost nailing Jackson in the nose. “Jesus, Sweetness. That’s just my dad.”
This time when I whipped my head to look at Jackson, he was prepared and dodged another near miss. “What?”
“I was at my dad’s when Ethan called,” he said by way of explanation. Though it didn’t explain anything.
Ethan was already at the door letting Nolan Clark in. He moved out of his uncle’s way and the imposing man stepped into my house.
“Brady’s outside scoping out locations for cameras,” he weirdly stated.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the man as he prowled farther into the room. For a man who was coming up on his sixtieth birthday, he looked good. So good, in fact, I momentarily forgot why he was in my house. He and Jackson were the same height, I’d guess six two, maybe six three. Where Jackson was lean and buff, his dad had bulk to him. The gray peppering his brown hair, predominately his sideburns and up, framing his face, did nothing to take away from his good looks. Jackson came from good stock, there was no doubt about it.
“Tuesday,” Nolan’s gruff voice greeted me.
“Hello, Mr. Clark.”
“Nolan, or just Clark will do,” he corrected just as he had the day of the barbeque w
hen I’d first met him.
“Did you bag the note?” That was directed at Ethan.
“Yeah.”
“Let me see it,” Nolan demanded.
Ethan handed him the letter and Jackson held me close. I watched as Nolan’s face took on a hard edge. “Right. The cameras will be installed today. We’ll get the street, too. I didn’t see an alarm when I came in. That will take longer, but Brady will get on that, too.”
“I can’t afford an alarm and cameras,” I told them.
“There’s no charge,” Nolan argued.
“Of course, there would be. Alarms are expensive.”
“Family doesn’t pay,” he continued.
“But I’m not family.”
“You’re Jackson’s. And you’re Mercy’s best friend. That makes you family, and family does not pay. Cameras in the front of the house will make it much easier to nail this guy. Faster, too.” Nolan turned to Ethan. “I’d like it if you could keep us up-to-date on what you find. Nick is digging in and he’ll be sending you what he finds this afternoon. The more eyes on this the better.”
No, no, no. I still didn’t want Nick looking into anything. He’d dredge up the past, if he hadn’t already. He’d see all the horrible pictures Travis had taken of me. He’d know everything, then he’d pass the information on to Ethan and Nolan. The whole family would have a front row seat to my humiliation and shame. Jesus Christ, when would this end?
“I’m gonna get this to the station. I’ll call you when I have something,” Ethan told Nolan. “Hang in there, Tuesday. We’re gonna get this mother . . . to the bottom of this soon.”
“Thanks, E.” Jackson lifted his chin in his cousin’s direction but still hadn’t let me go.
Something I was grateful for but shouldn’t have been.
Claiming Tuesday: The Next Generation Page 12
