chapter 42
Scarlett
I GO BACK TO JAXON’S after work the next day, tired after a ten-hour shift. I place my bag on the kitchen counter and plop down on the couch, lifting my feet up and sighing in content. I send Jaxon a quick message asking what time he will be home and whether he can pick something up for dinner because I’m just too tired to cook right now. His home phone rings, but I don’t bother to answer, both because I’m exhausted and because there’s no way it’s going to be for me anyway. It goes to voice mail.
“Jaxon?” a lady says. “It’s Mom. Just calling to see how you’re doing. Your father and I haven’t spoken to you in a few weeks now. Are you still dating that girl? You know, I saw her case on TV.” She sighs deeply, like she feels sorry for Jaxon. He obviously told her about me, but she doesn’t seem too impressed. “What she went through was awful, just like Olivia, but I don’t want you to think that you have an obligation to help a woman, and be with her just because of what happened with your sister. You can’t save everyone, Jaxon, even though I know you try to. You’re a good man, son, but you don’t need to take on problems that aren’t your own. Call me whenever you can.”
She hangs up, but enough damage has already been caused.
You don’t need to take on problems that aren’t your own.
Why does his mom view it this way? Has he said something to her? I sit with my hands in my lap, wondering what to do about this. His mom just voiced all the worries I had about the situation in one extremely damning, heartbreaking voice mail. I never spoke to Jaxon about how I felt after finding out that his sister killed herself because she was a victim of domestic violence, that our stories were so similar but with different endings. I kept it to myself. I started to bury it. And now? It’s risen to the surface again. His mom is right; Jaxon is a good man. I don’t see myself as a problem though. Yeah, I have a messed-up past, but who doesn’t? It doesn’t mean I’m not a good woman, or that I have so much baggage that no one should ever want me again.
Obligation.
Wow, that hurts.
And it hurts because it taps into my biggest fear, which is that Jaxon felt as though he had to save me because he couldn’t save his sister.
Things that happen in your life shape how you think about things, and how you act, and how do I know that his scars from what happened and his guilt aren’t the reasons he decided to stay in my life? What if he’s with me because he feels he has to be, because I needed saving?
Because I was weak?
Because he sees his sister in me?
I stand up and start to pace, my sore feet no longer the most painful thing on my body. I decide to get some fresh air, maybe go on a drive and get some food, anything to get out of the house and clear my head. I need to talk to one of my girls. The first one who comes to my mind is Valentina, because she too has been through the same thing. She’ll understand where I’m coming from, and how I feel. I send her a message:
Are you free? I need to chat to someone about something. Coffee?
A few seconds later, she replies.
Always free when a friend needs me. Name the place and time and I’ll be there.
I type back.
I’m leaving now Café on the corner of Cedar Road.
Getting in the car now.
God, she’s such a good friend.
I’m walking to my car, keys in hand, when I feel a thump, and everything goes black.
I OPEN MY EYES and sit up in a quick rush, wondering where the hell I am. What happened? Horror fills me as I look around the room, not sure what to expect. I rub the back of my head and the lump there, wincing as it starts to pound. I’m scared, but I try not to be.
It will be okay, I tell myself.
Be strong.
What would one of the old ladies do? They’d fight with every ounce of energy they had in them, they’d try to outsmart whoever has brought me here, and then they’d kick their ass. I don’t think I’m capable of much ass kicking, but fighting to save myself and not giving up, that I can do. That I’ve done before. I look around for anything I can use as a weapon, but the room has nothing but a bed. It’s not a dingy room, in fact it looks like an expensive hotel minus any furnishings. I have no idea who could have brought me here, or why, but I need to figure this out. I walk around the room, then try to open the door. Of course it’s locked, so I try to jam it a bit, then try to kick it down with no luck. Having already made a ruckus, I decide to go all out, and start banging on the door and yelling. At this point, I have nothing to lose. They’ve already planned whatever they want with me, and I doubt that’s going to change if I play nice.
“Let me out!” I yell, trying to contain my panic.
Darren once locked me inside our bedroom for two whole days. I had water from the en suite bathroom, and some snacks I’d had in my handbag, but he didn’t open the door in those two days, and he didn’t bother to give me any food. This feels like that, but worse. Better the devil you know. I knew where I stood with Darren, and although he was awful and cruel, I didn’t have to worry about being killed. Hurt, yes, killed no. These people may want to kill me. Or rape me. I don’t know.
Jaxon is going to be so worried about me.
Valentina too.
I search for my phone but it was obviously taken from me. I’ve got nothing but the clothes on my back and a bed to make do.
Shit.
I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.
I need to think.
I look to the window and realize I haven’t tried that yet. When I open the curtains though, I see just how high up I am. This room must be on the top floor of a very large house. There’s no way I could jump, or even climb down. I could maybe throw something out, or yell and hope someone hears me. When I try to open the glass though, it’s locked. And the window is heavily tinted. No one from the outside will be able to see me. This person clearly thought of everything, and fear fills me as I think of all the possible outcomes for this situation. I run back to the door and return to banging on it.
I don’t know what to do, but I’m not just going to sit on that fucking bed and wait to die.
Suddenly, the door opens, and there’s a gun in my face, pointed right at me.
Crap.
“Don’t move,” she tells me, voice low and lethal. “Or I will blow your brains out.”
I swallow, hard.
Jaxon, I need you.