Slow Burn (Boston Beauties #2)

by Dawn Edwards

  After two weeks, the search for me had been called off. It was an awful feeling that had settled over me. For all intents and purposes, I had been declared dead. My parents were mourning yet another child and were childless.

  I channeled all my emotions I was feeling into working out and training, I had only allowed myself a few days to get acquainted with the machines and routines, but after there was no more news to follow, I fully immersed myself physically and mentally.

  Breton was back at school for his final semester at MIT and was already setting his sights on a job come graduation in December. I was in minimal contact with him, but we still checked in every few days. I was also an emotional basket case when we spoke, but it was harder to stay away. Basically, every call for the first few weeks ended with me in tears and begging him to let me speak to my parents.

  The blog was my solace at the end of the day. I looked forward to reading my new addiction on Miley’s blog all day. A young adult, paranormal romance story, where, she released a chapter every few days. It wasn’t my usual genre, but fuck if it wasn’t the best and hottest thing I’d ever read.

  It was a genius concept. As if the site wasn’t already popular enough, this addicting story has launched it into wider, international fame, so much so that it caused her site to crash last week for a few days.

  The first month was hard, both emotionally and physically. I missed home so bad that I sobbed, my muscles hurt so much that it hurt to sit and pee, and at times I felt so hungry that I thought I may pass out. Needless to say, I hated the first few weeks and thought about quitting almost every day. But then I remembered I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I was safe and secluded.

  A month in, things started to get a bit easier for me, I had lost almost twenty pounds, and I was so happy that I was starting to see results. I began to push myself a little harder every day in the gym. I started taking notes on the food I was eating, journaling my emotions, and working through some online self-help programs designed by life coaches.

  I had been doing so well, but then November rolled around, and bam, all the holiday posts started appearing on the blog. I thought that being away, there would be less influence and I’d breeze through, but it proved to be my breaking point.

  JESSA: I want to call home

  BRETON: You know that’s not a good idea

  JESSA: I’m not asking

  BRETON: We’ve been through this

  JESSA: Either you let me call, or I will fly home right now.

  BRETON: How, you have no credit card, and you need me to hack the system for your passport to work

  JESSA: I’ll go to the police here and turn myself in

  BRETON: You wouldn’t...

  JESSA: I can pack right now and get someone to take me to the police within the hour

  He was silent for a bit before he replied

  BRETON: Can you wait till Wednesday (Thursday your time) until I am home to explain everything and make sure everything is safe?

  BRETON: You cannot do what you said, Matt’s trial is set for the new year. Please, wait a few days ‘till I’m home

  BRETON: Can you promise me that?

  JESSA: If you promise me I can talk to them before the weekend

  BRETON: I promise

  As he always did, he kept his promise to me. It was early Thursday morning when he texted me that he was about to tell them. I told my trainer Marcus that I had cramps and left the gym to head back to my room. I sat on my bed, holding my knees, rocking back and forth. I was nervous, and the time seemed to take forever. My hands were shaking so much when I put my earphones in my ears and answered the call.

  It was emotional when I picked up the phone, we all cried for the first few minutes. Then they yelled at me, then we all cried some more and then we started to chat, cried again, finally laughed at it all.

  ‘When are you coming home?’ my mother asked me.

  ‘We’re working on that, but not for a while yet,’ Breton answered for me.

  ‘Where are you?’ my father asked me.

  I shrugged. ‘I’m in a good place no one would think to look for me, and I’m safe,’ I told him with a genuine smile.

  ‘Can we call her whenever?’ my mother asked Breton.

  He shook his head, ‘No, it’s not safe, but I can give you the email we’ve been using.’

  They seemed to be content with that,

  ‘Please don't be mad at us. I needed to do this to protect myself, and you. The less you know about where I am right now, the better. But we can check in every week or so.’

  ‘We love you so much, and we are so happy with this news,’ my mother cried, and my father wrapped his arms around her.

  ‘I miss you and I love you too,’ I cried.

  CHAPTER 9

  JESSA

  My time away was hard and isolating. It wasn’t as if I left a large group of friends, but I really missed Zoe and even Amber. We had grown closer over the past year. I spoke with Breton a few times a week, but it just wasn’t the same.

  After the first month, our conversations were rather predictable. He’d fill me in on the limited information he had on Zoe, and even more scarce, Amber. And when I was brave enough, I’d ask about Drew. It took a lot to hear about him, and even though I’d try my hardest to push him from my thoughts throughout the day. At night, without the distractions of the routine of the retreat, the classes, the group sessions, training, and cooking classes, I was alone with my thoughts. And completely alone, missing Drew.

  I had been emotional after speaking with my parents, and I needed a few days to digest it and come to terms that I was missing my first of many holidays with my family. It was the weekend after Thanksgiving that Breton called to tell me that a trial date had been set, pushed up due to the influence of my father, his friends and the DA seeking re-election on the tails of a high-profile case.

  It was all so real, and I was grateful that Breton had let me come clean to my parents last week, that they now knew I was alive, and the trial would be a formality to put Matt away and buy us time.

  ‘How’s Drew taking the news?’ I asked Breton as I pulled clean clothes from my drawer, in preparation for my shower.

  He was quiet for some time. ‘Drew’s gone back to England,’ he said in a low voice, sounding defeated by the news.

  ‘What?’ I asked, stopping in my tracks. ‘Like, for good?’

  Breton let out a sigh, ‘I don’t think so. Mom said he still had a bunch of his things at the reno house.’

  ‘Tell me what happened…’

  ‘I don’t think there’s too much to tell. He’s been having a hard go. He’s been talking about going to visit his friends, take a holiday. Your dad’s been encouraging it, Drew really needed to get away to clear his head. Abby sent us all messages the other day to let us know we’d be called to give testimony, and because our names were down as witnesses, the defense will want depositions from us.

  ‘He drove to your dad’s office that day, just days before Thanksgiving, dropped off your car and went to the airport. He bought a one-way ticket to London and won’t answer our calls, texts or emails,’ Breton summarized the situation for me.

  ‘Brett, he’s gone…’ I felt the tears rolling down my cheek.

  ‘Nah, he’ll be back.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ I implored.

  ‘I do, he’s booked a trip to Mauritius with a few of his guy friends, they leave tomorrow, and he’s still in contact with Joe, the guy he hired as his assistant. If he wasn't coming back, he would have told Joe and wouldn’t be replying to emails from customers and potential customers.’

  ‘But what if…’

  ‘But nothing, he’ll be back. We’ll get him back, but he needs to get his head straight first.’

  ‘He’s that bad?’ I started to sob.

  ‘He thinks the girl he loves is dead, and he blames himself for letting you go.’

  ‘He didn’t let me go, I went, and I broke his heart knowingly,’ I c
ried.

  ‘Jessa, it’s all for the best,’ he tried to placate me. ‘I’m almost done with my thesis, I’ll be defending next month and then I’ll start working on our stuff more.’

  ‘Ok…’ I drawled. He’d been telling me this for months now, but we were no more ahead now than we were when I left.

  ‘I promise, your dad’s involved now, he’s already asking for timelines.’ I let out a snort laugh, that was so my father. ‘You good?’ he asked me.

  ‘I’m ok.’

  ‘What are you going to do now?’

  ‘Shower and then go out to watch some reality TV show in the common area where some people hang out.’

  ‘Good,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Just call if you need to talk. Don’t worry about Drew, he’s going to be back.’

  ~

  The retreat was beautiful, situated on acres of oceanfront on the east coast, with sandy beaches for miles. The buildings were modern, airy and light thanks to all the windows. I had my own private room with views of the water on the third floor. The first floor housed all the workout areas, overlooking the water and back yard with sitting areas and outdoor eating areas. The kitchen and some training and meeting rooms were in the front of the building along with a media room where guests typically lounged in the evenings after eating, showering and journaling.

  The program was intense, and they were not shy about working me very hard, pushing me to keep working harder and harder every time I reached a milestone. As much as I hated it at times, it was also the best thing. I’d never been able to push myself physically or dig deep personally. As my physical shape changed, the clarity of what I wanted to do with my life was starting to take form.

  The other guests came and went, some stayed the weekend, some a week, a few stayed two weeks. No one had stayed more than two weeks since I've been here. I was starting to get used to the constant turnaround. I wasn’t here to make friends but the more my physical appearance changed, the more I tried to socialize, joining groups during the week to watch TV or a movie. Meals were always served at specific times and guests ate together. Unless it was raining, I always sat at the same table outside in the shade. More times than not, I had other guests join me, and from time to time, one or more of the instructors ate with me, as I’d gotten to know them over the past two months.

  I had withdrawn a bit over the past couple of days, with talking to my family for the first time in months and the news that Drew was really suffering.

  I took a walk on the beach after eating dinner alone and ran into Marcus, the lead trainer I worked with and the one person I spent the most time with here. Occasionally we’d eat together if his schedule allowed. We’d chat, talk about TV shows, movies, books, and some current news. He was the best trainer here. He was also close to my age, easy on the eyes and we seemed to have a lot in common. If I wasn’t still in love with Drew and trying to find myself, he might have been able to pique my interest.

  ‘Hey,’ I greeted him with a smile. He was also super friendly with me. I wanted to believe it was genuine and not only because he was on the payroll of the exorbitantly expensive retreat. He always made a point to check in with me at least once a day to ask how I was doing, check my progress and see if any adjustments were needed if it appeared I was plateauing.

  ‘Hello, Sarah,’ he stopped walking. I still haven't gotten used to being called by a name other than Jessa. ‘Where are you headed?’

  I looked to the retreat complex about half a mile down the beach. ‘Back to my room.’

  ‘Right on,’ he nodded. ‘I’m just heading to the staff quarters.’

  I looked around, I never really thought about where all the staff stayed. We were out in the middle of nowhere. ‘There’s a small complex across the road, it’s about a five-minute walk. But I much prefer to walk along the beach most evenings.’

  ‘How far is the nearest town?’ I asked him. ‘I’m starting to need new clothes,’ I said, pulling at my shorts that were no longer all that snug. When I had originally purchased clothing, I got three size sets. These were the last ones, and they weren’t going to last that much longer.

  His face lit up. ‘That’s so awesome,’ he sounded giddy. ‘You must be so proud of yourself.’

  I nodded, agreeing with him, ‘I am.’

  ‘I’ve got Monday off,’ he told me. ‘I’m overdue for a trip to civilization for a shop, toiletries, laundry soap, you know, the basics. I’d be happy to take you in with me. We can grab a real lunch,’ he smiled, and it looked as if he was salivating at the thought.

  ‘But what about my diet.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘It’s not sustainable, you got to treat yourself once in a while. I want to inhale a large combination pizza, and maybe a bacon cheeseburger.’

  ‘You?’ I asked, shocked and wide eyed.

  ‘Oh, I love junk food,’ he ran a hand down his stomach. ‘Obviously, I don’t indulge often, but yeah, love it.’

  I smiled and nodded at him. ‘Yeah, Monday, that would be great, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘No, not at all. I’ll see whose car we can steal for the day.’

  ‘I can see about renting one,’ I offered.

  He shook his head. ‘Naw, a bunch of the staff have vehicles here, but they never get used, that’s what we do.’

  ‘Ok.’

  I spent the rest of the weekend working out, reading a few self-help books, one on finding oneself, another on goal setting, and one on motivation.

  This experience at the retreat has really awoken something in me. Not that I could be a personal trainer, or a massage therapist, a nutritionist or a chef, but I could see myself working in this area. Helping people change physically, to work on their self mentally, coaching them to live their best life.

  But I first needed to practice what I wanted to preach. With some training and life experiences, I could be well on my way. But I needed to first explore it a bit more and not rush into anything.

  I’d been doing lots of reading on the subject, about self-discovery through books, articles, and blogs. It seemed like I wasn’t alone in having no direction in life. That following a parent's path was more common than I thought. I had also been researching to find myself a life coach. So far, the most promising one was based out of Arizona; she was ready and willing to meet with me via the internet. I was just waiting on the go ahead and payment transfer from Breton.

  On Monday, I did my early morning jog, had a snack, showered, and met Marcus in the lobby of the resort. I had on the only pair of jeans I had brought with me, but they were too big and didn’t look great. He, on the other hand, looked amazing in a pair of fitted jeans, a snug long-sleeved Henley shirt, and Converse sneakers. I’d only ever really seen him in workout gear in the nearly three months that I had been here.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked me as he walked in and spotted me.

  We drove to a nearby costal city about two hours south. We chatted the whole time, mainly about music and the bands that were playing on the radio, the station playing a mix of current popular top hits and songs from the last few decades. And naturally, from time to time, the conversation rounded back to the retreat—where he gave me all the gossip and told me a bit more about himself.

  As it turned out, he was working to save for school. His mother had been paying for him, until she got cancer a few years ago, and ultimately lost her battle. His father wasn't in his life, and he thought he might be in jail. They hadn't heard from him in over a decade, and they never bothered to go looking. He left school after his mom got sick, nursed her, then had to work to save up for his tuition and living expenses for two more years of school. His final year of his undergrad, and the one-year Master’s program he intended to do to become a licensed physiotherapist. Through school, he had already become a certified personal trainer, which helped him get the job at the retreat.

  Our first stop was to Woolworths, where we both stocked up on toiletries, and him on house cleaning supplies and snacks.

  He sugges
ted that we head out to lunch at a pub near the beach, before making our way to some shops where I could pick up new clothing, both for training and a few for outings.

  The pub was near the beach, and we took a seat outside to people watch. While it was spring here, the weather was still warm enough for people to frequent the beach—mostly foreigners, he told me.

  We placed our drink orders, a beer for him, and a Diet Coke for me. We both looked up from our menus when a group of three well-built guys walked by with board shorts and flip-flops on.

  We both eyed them and turned our heads to watch as they walked farther towards the beach, away from us.

  Marcus smirked, ‘That would have been a fun afternoon.’

  I did a double take of him. Did I hear him right, did he just tell me he was gay? I would have never guessed.

  ‘Nah, I’m not that into orgies,’ I joked.

  ‘Fine, you take one, I’ll take the others.’ He winked at me.

  I laughed, ‘I had no idea…’

  ‘That I like dudes?’

  I noticed he didn’t say he was gay, interesting.

  I smiled, ‘That you were into threesomes.’

  He shrugged, ‘Honestly, I don’t know that I am,’ and smiled thinking about it. ‘But then again, I don't know that I’m not.’

  We both laughed. ‘I’m pretty sure, I’m a one-man kind of gal myself.’

  ‘To each their own,’ he said as the waitress returned to take our orders.

  He ordered a burger with cheese and extra bacon, fries and onion rings.

  I ordered a personal meat pizza, saving more room for something sweet later.

  When the plate of onion rings arrived, I was nearly salivating. Marcus narrowed his eyes at me and challenged me, ‘You’ll have to fight me for them first.’

  ‘Fuck off, you whip my ass every day.’ I reached over and took a few.

  He looked behind me, ‘And look at how nicely it’s shaping up.’

  I smiled at him, happy that he noticed. ‘Still a ways to go.’