Chapter 5

Glock

“What did you say?” I barked at Mickey, who had stopped me in the middle of the road, while I was on my way to the Rusty Pelican.

“Her mom told Mrs. Jenkins and she told Crazy P’s mother, and he told me,” Mickey continued, and I shook my head in disbelief.

“You’re sure of this?” I asked, and he nodded his head.

“That’s what Crazy P told me,” he insisted, and I ran a hand through my hair.

“And you’re sure it was one of the Dragon Knights?” I clarified, and Mickey shrugged his shoulders before he nodded his head again.

“That’s what Crazy P figures. He was beating up one of the women and Sage tried to stop it,” Mickey said.

“Shit!”

“Yeah, man, it’s really fucked up. Apparently, he groped her, and he would have done much worse if she didn’t scream your name,” Mickey continued.

“Shit! Shit!” Something happening to Sage was the last thing I wanted.

“Well, knowing you probably saved her. The asshole didn’t want to piss you off,” Mickey said, and I shook my head in rage.

“When has that ever stopped them? I’m glad it worked for her though,” I said, and I was already walking away from Mickey.

“Go, man, talk to her. Mrs. Jenkins said that she's really shaken up. She wants to take her mom away from here and back to San Francisco, or wherever she lives,” Mickey called after me, as I jumped on my bike.

“Thanks, Mickey! I owe you one,” I said to him as I rode off.

I didn’t exactly plan on going to see her. I figured that she didn’t want to see me. Sage had been back home for at least four days, as far as I knew, and she hadn’t looked me up or called. She had made it pretty apparent that she didn’t want me coming and looking for her either. But if she was assaulted by a Dragon Knights, and she’d said my name—I had no other choice but to find out if she was doing okay. Besides, now I had someone to give me details about what went on with the woman he was beating up.

I rode hard to the Campbell home. I knew it well. Even after Sage was gone, I visited Tracy sometimes. I did her shopping some weekends and went over just for a chat and a cup of coffee from time to time. I knew she was lonely, and I knew she was getting sicker by the day. We spoke very little about Sage during those meetings though. I didn’t want to know, and Tracy didn’t want to tell. It was an unspoken understanding between us.

When I knocked on the door of the Campbell house, it was Tracy who opened. She looked paler and thinner than when I last saw her.

“Glock! How nice of you to visit,” she said, in her usual friendly and welcoming tone.

“Hi Tracy, how are you?” I asked as she led me into the house. I usually took my jacket off and made myself comfortable, but today was different. My body was on high alert. I could sense it in my bones that Sage was in the house.

“Here, let me make you some coffee, why don’t I? Would you like some muffins?” Tracy was already walking into the kitchen, and I followed her, my eyes darting around the place for any trace of Sage.

“Just coffee is fine, Tracy, thanks,” I said, and in the kitchen, I found bags of groceries on the counter. I clenched my jaws as I watched the older woman boil the kettle for the coffee.

“Tracy…” I said her name, and she turned to me with sad eyes.

“You’ve heard? Oh, what a terrible thing to happen. She’s so angry and I know she’s afraid too, but she won’t admit it,” Tracy said, and I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to ask her if Sage would agree to see me, but I was afraid to hear the answer. As much as I remembered of Sage, she was quite capable of declaring that she didn’t want to see me ever again.

“I understand,” was all I could muster. Tracy was swirling the instant coffee into the milk and water, and I stood beside the kitchen table. There was a laptop open, which apparently belonged to Sage, and even seeing this object, this possession of hers—made me slightly weak.

“She wants me to go with her to San Francisco. She doesn’t think it’s safe for me here,” Tracy said, as she brought the two cups of coffee to the table with shaking hands.

“She’s right,” I replied, and I took one cup from her.

“But this is my home. I haven’t left Long Beach in…oh, I don’t know…thirty years? I don’t know how I could ever live anywhere else, Glock,” Tracy sounded sad as she spoke and I nodded my head in sympathy.

We both heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs at the same time. Tracy fixed her eyes on me, while my muscles stiffened. It was Sage, I knew it was and yet suddenly, I wasn’t prepared to see her. I still remembered her as a seventeen-year-old, I couldn’t picture her as twenty-seven.

“Mom? Was someone at the door?” it was her voice in the hallway, and now the coffee cup was shaking in my hand. I realized that I was holding my breath when I heard her footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Then there was silence. She was at the kitchen door. She had seen me, well, my back, which was turned to her.

“Jackson?” her voice was slightly different, huskier, smoother. I had no choice but to turn to her.

“Sage,” I stated, and I drank in the sight of her. She was taller now, and she didn’t seem to be going through any extreme fashion phase. She was in tight black jeans that accentuated her curves and her rounded thighs. She had turned into a beautiful full-bodied woman. She was wearing a figure-tight deep red top, tucked into her jeans. Her waist was slim, and her big breasts were even more pronounced in that top. Her hair was its natural color, red and luscious and it fell in waves around her shoulders. Her eyes looked smoldering green in this light, and I felt like a giddy teenager again.

“You look well,” she broke the silence and then stepped towards me.

“You do too,” I said and realized that I hadn’t said one original thing to her yet. “You look older,” I added stupidly, and Sage laughed. Her laugh was the same, husky and strong and her red pouty lips stretched over her perfectly white teeth.

“I would think so!” she remarked and walked past me to the kitchen counter, where she started opening the cupboards on top. I followed her with my eyes, her big voluptuous ass in those tight black jeans. I clenched my jaws when a sudden rage filled me. I was reminded of what Mickey had told me; that the DK asshole had groped her.

“Honey, do you want to sit down? I’ll let you two catch up. I’ve made coffee for you too,” Tracy interrupted the silence, and Sage fetched a pack of six muffins and tore it open.

“Thanks, mom,” Sage said and turned to her mother with a warm smile.

Tracy dusted her hands.

“Okay, I’ll leave you two to it. I’m going over to Eliza Jenkin’s house for a cup of tea. See you later honey,” Tracy smiled at me as she walked out of the kitchen and now it was just Sage and me.

She was peeling the paper wrapping off the muffin and barely even looking at me. I couldn’t help but notice how different she was now. She was still absolutely fucking gorgeous.

“Congratulations. I hear you are a lawyer now,” I tried, and she looked up at me with her fiery green eyes.

“Word does get around fast here, doesn’t it?” she said with a coy smile and then walked towards me.

I couldn’t help staring at her lips, at her breasts, at her ass—after all these years, how was she still the only woman who made me feel this stupid? This weak? How was I still in love with her after she had abandoned me?

“Well, thank you, Jackson. Or should I call you Glock now?” she tilted her head to the side slightly, and I smiled at her. She smiled back.

“I finally passed the bar exam,” she exclaimed and then came over and sat down at the kitchen table. I was standing over her, with the cup of coffee still in my hand. I laughed slightly at her using my nickname. It sounded oddly soothing coming from her lips.

“Aren’t you going to sit down? Mom instructed us to catch up,” she said with a smile, and I did as I was told.

She was looking at me in silence, peering into my eyes, assessing my face and I stared back at her. I had no idea what to say to her, and she wasn’t doing much talking either.

“You look grown up too, Glock,” she said suddenly, in a quiet voice and I nodded my head and grinned.

“Listen…I know you’ve looked out for mom all these years and I want you to know that I really appreciate that,” Sage said and I didn’t expect her to acknowledge it, let alone thank me for it. She had become calmer somehow.

“You don’t have to thank me for it, it was my pleasure. Tracy is lovely, and I didn’t want her to think that she was all alone here,” I said and Sage’ brows creased.

“I’ve meant to come back and see her, Glock, I really have. It’s been so hard trying to set up a life from scratch,” she said passionately, and I peered into her eyes and nodded.

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Sage. I bet it was hard and you’ve gotten through it. I know Tracy understands too, and I know you kept in touch,” I said, and Sage bit down on her lower lip, her face was pinched in sadness.

“I called her every Sunday, I tried my best, Glock, I really did,” she continued, and I had to do everything I could to stop myself from reaching out and touching her hand on the table.

“I’m not the person you should be saying this to, Sage, I’m just someone you used to know,” I said, and she shot me a fiery look. She didn’t seem pleased by that statement, but she knew, just as well as I did, that it was the truth.

“I’m sorry I didn’t leave you a letter, and that I didn’t call. I wanted to rip you off like a band-aid, so we could both move on,” she said, and it was surprising because Sage had never exactly been the apologizing type.

“It’s forgiven and forgotten, don’t worry about it,” I said, and she stared at me with her wide hazel eyes. She licked her lips and gulped nervously, then stared down at her clasped fingers.

“I’m happy to see you all grown up and doing well for yourself, Glock. I really am,” she said and looked up at me again. Her eyes had softened, her lips were parted, and I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to remember what it used to feel like, kissing Sage Campbell.

“I’m happy for you too, Sage,” I replied, and she stood up with a jerk from her chair.

My first instinct was to stand up from my chair too. We were staring at each other, she was looking into my eyes with her head tipped backward. Ten years ago, she was the one who’d kissed me, at this very table. This time, I wasn’t going to rely on her to do it again.