Jason
Pushing the wobbly cart down the produce section of the grocery store, trying to find the eggplant, my phone rings in my pocket.
“Brett, what’s up, man?”
“Not much. You got plans tonight?”
“Just chillin’ at the casa.”
“Wanna come hang out?”
“I could be persuaded,” I reply on a laugh.
“How about a bribe of enchiladas and cold beer?”
“Done. What time?”
“Whenever you feel like coming over, man. I’m gonna hit up Isaac and Derek. See if they want to come over too.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’m grocery shopping now.”
“Fun, fun,” he replies sarcastically.
“Well, if I want to eat, it has to be done. I’ll head over as soon as I get everything put away. Later.”
“Later.”
The music is blaring when I walk up to the house. Opening the door, the first thing that catches my attention is Brett and Isaac wrestling on the floor, Derek cheering them on while trying not to spill his beer, the most recent MMA fight replaying in the background on the massive television.
“Y’all, please don’t break anything tonight. I swear, it’s like a bull in a china shop with you three. Oh, hey, Jason,” the soft, feminine voice calls from the doorway of the kitchen.
When she calls out, the guys on the floor stop messing around as if just realizing their territory has been invaded.
“Hey, Jase!” Brett says from where he has Isaac pinned to the floor.
“Dude, grab a beer and pull up a seat. It’s fight night!” Derek calls from the couch, holding up his beer in salute.
Passing Kristen, I press a kiss to her cheek as I squeeze by.
“Keep your damn lips off my woman!” Brett bellows.
“Someone has to pay her some attention since you’re making out with Isaac down there,” I throw over my shoulder.
“It’s nice to see you, Jason.”
“You too, Kris. You hanging with is tonight?”
“Hell no,” she retorts on a laugh. “I’m headed over to Camryn’s. We’re gonna enjoy girl’s night. Lots of ice cream and eye candy.”
“I’m the only eye candy you need,” Brett growls from behind her before wrapping his arms around her and drawing her in close.
“It doesn’t hurt to look. As long as hands are kept to oneself.” She turns to glare at him with an arched brow.
“Looking, no touching. I know the rules. Not even tempted to break them.” He leans down and lays a long, slow kiss on her lips.
“Okay, okay. Break it up.”
Laughing, they pull apart.
“The enchiladas, beans, and rice are warming in the oven. Nachos are done. Fridge is stocked with beer and Dr. Pepper. Y’all try not to destroy the house.” After a quick kiss with Brett, she walks over to me and kisses me on the cheek. “Keep these guys in line, would ya?”
“No promises.”
“Come on, damn it. Get his ass on the mat. His ground game is weak as hell!” Isaac bellows as if the fighter can hear him.
“Shit, Gomez, is gonna kick his ass before Shellan ever takes his ass to the mat!” Derek counters.
Relaxing back on the couch, I try to contain my laughter at these two idiots.
Glancing over at Brett, I see him smiling at his phone.
“Put that fucking thing down. It’s guys night. You can return to being pussy whipped tomorrow.”
“Whatever. I can’t help it that I like spending time with my girl,” he replies, a sappy grin on his face.
“They having a good time?”
“I guess. She was just saying they got to talking about Mallory.”
“How’s she doing?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant. I have always regretted not asking Mallory out before Todd sunk his claws into her. There’s just something about that creep I never liked. But tonight, when I start thinking about her, I wonder about the woman who moved in next door, though I’m not sure why. The only thing they had in common was their petite stature and dark hair. Mallory was always full of energy, the life of the party. Not some timid little waif like my new neighbor.
“That’s what they were talking about. Neither of them have heard from her in months. She’s been ignoring all their calls and texts. Hasn’t posted anything on Facebook or Instagram. I mean, we knew there would be some distance created between them when she moved, but they said this is really unlike her. They’re just worried.”
“Yeah. Those three were thick as thieves before she moved. I know it was really hard on her when her dad died.”
“I have a feeling the girls are plotting.”
“Oh shit, that’s never good. Any idea what?”
“It won’t surprise me if we end up with an impromptu trip to Colorado if they can’t get in touch with her.”
“Skiing sounds like fun.”
“That mean you’re in?”
“What else are friends for?” We clink our beer bottles in a toast before I take a long drink.
“In for what?” Isaac asks, mimicking the fight on the screen.
“A trip to Colorado,” I reply.
“Colorado? Snow bunnies? I’m in, for sure!”
“Count me in too. This have to do with Mallory?” Derek asks, dodging a fake punch thrown by Isaac.
“Girls are worried about her,” Brett states as he sits forward on the couch, beer bottle dangling between his legs. “If it’ll help them feel better about what she’s got going on up there, I’m all for a mini vacay.”
“We can take a few days after Christmas before we go on tour in January. We just have to convince Brian it won’t interfere,” I mention, thinking about our manager.
“Brian will understand. And if we time it just right, it shouldn’t interfere with anything.”
“Speaking of which, we might want to start thinking about calling it a night. We gotta hit the gym in the morning, then the studio. We want to stay on Brian’s good side.”
“Amen to that,” Derek calls out, raising his bottle in salute.
“Okay, y’all, draw straws or whatever to decide who gets the couch. Unless two of you want to double up in one of the guest rooms,” Brett says as he rises from the couch and stretches.
“You’re the host. Aren’t you supposed to offer up your bed and sleep on the couch?” Isaac asks with a grin.
“Fuck you. No one is sleeping in the bed I make love to my woman in. Y’all work it out. Good night.”
“Rock, paper, scissors? Loser gets the couch?’’ Isaac asks, throwing out a fist.
“You’re on.” Derek and I throw out a fist and the game begins.
It’s still early when the clatter of footsteps on the landing draws my attention. Grabbing my keys, I rush to the door, hoping to catch my mystery woman on the way out. I’m not set to meet the guys at the gym for another thirty minutes, but it’s like this invisible force continues to push me to find out more about her. Maybe it’s even the fact that she is elusive that’s keeping me intrigued. Either way, I step through the threshold, locking the door on my way out, and stop when I see the older lady standing outside the mystery woman’s apartment, luggage sitting at her feet.
Leaning in, she hugs the dark-haired girl, and I attempt to get a glimpse at her while patting my pockets down, acting like I forgot something so I don’t look too obvious. That would be a great impression, being the creepy neighbor who just stares whenever someone opens a door. Scoffing, I turn back toward my door and fiddle with the key in the lock while glancing back over my shoulder. The brunette pulls back, swiping a hand under both her eyes to wipe away a few stray tears, and my heart lurches at the sight. I’ve never been able to handle women while they’re crying, but there’s something about this girl that makes me want to swoop in, brush away her tears, and mend whatever is broken inside her. She may not be broken, but those tears mean she’s hurting, and I want to take the hurt away.
I shake my head and push my door open, then step inside, continuing my fallacy. Hushed whispers fill the space around me, but I can’t make out any words. The honking of a horn from the parking lot has the older woman reaching for her bags and giving the mystery lady one last hug and a kiss on her cheek. As the older woman heads for the stairs, I step back onto the landing, hoping to catch a glimpse of the younger woman before she retreats into her apartment, or maybe it’s a place that’s become more like a solace to her considering she hasn’t seemed to leave it. I watch as she watches the woman make her way down the car, and before she turns to head back into her apartment, her gaze locks on mine. My eyes widen as the breath in my lungs nearly expands them to bursting. Shocked to my core, I let the air out in a whoosh.
“Mallory?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I clear my throat, my brows furrowing as I debate whether this is really Mallory or a weird doppelganger. Her friends are planning a search and rescue mission, and here she is standing in front of me.
I blink, then step forward, scrutinizing her features. “Mallory, what are you doing back here?” I ask, moving forward again, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and faded green across her cheek, the remnants of healing bruising. My heart thumps wildly, and I clamp my teeth together in an attempt to ward off the anger from thoughts about how she got that bruise in the first place. Her lips part, as if she’s about to say something, then press into a flat line. Two front teeth pop out, taking her bottom lip between them as she dips her head, a soft blush taking over cheeks. She seems so shy—so different from the extroverted girl I met so long ago. I reach out, wanting to…I have no idea. Touch her? See if she’s real? Hold her hand to feel the soft skin of her palm against mine and will her to spill all her secrets? But the second I do, she back steps, shaking her head. Her eyes dart back to mine for only a second before she shuffles back farther, breathes deep through her nose, then lifts her head to face me fully.
“Um…hi, Jason. How are you?” she asks, the movement of her hands as she intertwines her fingers catching my attention. When I look back up, her gaze is riveted on anything but me.
“I’m good, Mal. How are you? Are you feeling any better? You seem to be moving easier than the last time I saw you.”
“I’m feeling better. Not as much pain.” She bites her bottom lip again, as if she’s debating something. “Can you not mention me being back here yet? I’m not ready for Kristen and Camryn to know. Not yet.”
“Well, that’s going to take some explanation on your part. Why in the world would you not want your best friends to know you’re home? Do you realize how worried they are about you? They are planning to head to Colorado after Christmas to find out how you are.” Looking down at the ground, she takes a deep breath. When she looks back at me, there are tears in her eyes. I move toward her, and she flinches, hunching into herself, trying to make herself as small as possible. What the fuck? “Mal?”
“Can we talk about it later? I just…” her voices waivers, “I just can’t right now.”
“I’ll come by tonight.” She looks up at me startled, her dove gray eyes large. “I’ll bring some dinner, and you will tell me what is going on. I’ll be here at seven. That okay?” Being this forceful with her when it’s obvious she’s hurting makes me feel like shit, but if I give her any room to decline, she’ll take it. She hesitates for a moment before nodding. Then, she hurries into her apartment and shuts the door, the locks engaging as soon as the wood touches the frame, as if she’s worried I’ll follow her inside.
Taking slow, deep breaths, I try to regain control over myself as rage pours through me. I sure as hell hope what I think is going on is not what happened. Keeping her face hidden with her hair, trying not to gain notice from other people, flinching away with quick movements—she acted just like my sister did when her husband was beating her. I hope to hell I’m wrong. Otherwise, there’s a motherfucker I’m going to have to hunt down and kill.