Chapter 33

Jack

Being out of prison brought a flood of positivity into my life, but I never forgot who was to blame for my incarceration. Thoughts of revenge had swirled through me day and night the entire time I was locked up, and the momentary reprieve I received from the joy of my homecoming didn't last long. By the morning after my first day back, I was wishing and wondering how I could get Donnie back. Melissa didn't have a clue and I didn't want to tell her. If she knew how much my hatred of her ex-boyfriend dictated my thoughts she'd only be upset. It was something I needed to solve myself. Melissa and Sadie got me out of prison, but the prison of my mind could only be traversed alone.

Melissa had a job interview in the morning, some bartending job at another place in town. She offered to reschedule it for me but I told her to go. We needed the money and I needed the space to do what had to be done. What I'd been waiting weeks to do.

I didn't know where to find Donnie, but I knew where he lived and figured that would be a good place to start. Melissa pointed the place out to me once and I burned the location into my memory exactly for this purpose. She took the car to her interview so I walked. It wasn't far. I reached the quaint rancher just as I started to sweat under the morning sun, and stood outside for a minute while I gathered the energy for what I was about to do.

Then, with my fists tight at my side, I walked up to the door and knocked.

"Who is it?" called Donnie from inside.

Good. He was home.

"Jack Paxton," I called back. "You may remember me as the guy you got sent to prison recently."

Pounding footsteps approached and Donnie yanked open the door, glaring at me.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Haven't you learned your lesson yet?"

I evaluated him calmly—the obnoxious way he styled his shit-brown hair, the angry tilt of his mouth and the little snub nose that would have looked better on a rabbit. This person, this pest, was the reason my life nearly ended just as it was beginning. I wanted to lay him out flat and kick him until his kidneys came out this throat. I wanted to snap his bones one by one like toothpicks. And that was just what I wanted to do to him for hurting Melissa. He would never survive if I punished him for all of his crimes.

"I'm here for an apology," I stated. And then I waited.

Donnie blinked and stared at me, then broke into raucous laughter. "An apology? You've got to be fucking joking, right?"

I shook my head. I was dead serious.

Donnie's shoulders shook and he bent over, gasping for air. He righted himself and wiped a tear from under his eye, shaking his head with mirth.

"I guess that's why Melissa likes you so much," he said. "You're a funny guy. I'm sure that makes up for the tiny dick."

"You apologize right now," I said evenly, "and that'll be the end of it. For what you did to me, at least. What you did to Melissa is a whole other ball game."

Donnie stepped out onto the porch and jammed a finger into my shoulder. I stepped back.

"You think you can just come over here and demand an apology?" he asked. "You must be out of your goddamn mind. Why would I apologize to you when I'm not sorry for shit? The only thing I'm sorry about is that you're out early. You should be rotting in prison right now like the scumbag you are."

Irritation prickled down my spine but I didn't react. He was trying to get a rise out of me, probably hoping that if he pushed me far enough, I'd attack him. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me put behind bars again.

"You know what? You and that bitch deserve each other," Donnie continued. "You're both trash. I don't know why I wasted so much time on you. All that shit with that development took time, you know."

"What shit?"

I had a feeling I knew what he was talking about, but I wanted him to say it.

Donnie rolled his eyes. "Come on. You got the message didn't you? Or are you that stupid? I rolled over that job site you were working on twice. I fucking got you fired. Doesn't that make you mad?"

It made me furious. All of this might have been avoided if I'd kept that job, if Melissa had kept hers. We might've had enough money to get out of there before shit went sideways. Not to mention the fact that Neil was an innocent bystander in all of it and I was furious that he had to pay for Donnie's obsession too.

"You're a sad, lonely loser," I replied. "When will you realize that you've lost? It's over."

"It's not over!" Donnie's face purpled and spittle flew out of his mouth. "It's not over until I say it is! I'm the one calling the shots. You're nothing, prison trash under my shoe. I could have you back in jail in a heartbeat."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Sure."

Donnie's frustration continued to grow. I wasn't reacting the way he expected, the way he thought an illegal fighter like me should react, and it was driving him crazy. I was winning and he didn't know how to take the field back. It felt good, even if it would've felt better to bust in his skull.

"You got away this time. Lucky you," he sneered. "That's only because coming up with evidence for illegal fighting isn't easy. The video of you fighting that your friend Roddy and I doctored wasn't perfect but the police were eager to take you in. Everyone thinks you're a scumbag and it's only going to be a matter of time before something comes up that they can finally put you away for." He smirked, obviously feeling triumphant. "Maybe next time it'll be something a little more serious. Maybe they'll find drugs in your car. Maybe they'll connect you to robbery. I wouldn't get settled for too long."

There. I could kiss him. Who would've thought that all I needed to do to get him to confess was let him preen about his victories a little?

I feigned shock and clenched my fists at my sides, giving him the idea that I might retaliate at any second.

"You forged the evidence against me?"

Donnie tapped his nose. "I just greased the wheels of justice a little. You're not innocent, so why should you be treated as such by the law?"

I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to last here without actually hitting him, so I figured it was time to leave.

"Thanks, Donnie," I said, letting my hands fall limp. "I'll see you around."

I turned on my heel and started stalking off down the driveway. Donnie wasn't finished with me yet.

"What?" he sputtered. "That's it? You're a fucking pussy!" His footsteps clattered down the porch and followed me up the drive. I didn't turn around, not until the last second. He wanted a fight and he wasn't going to let me go without one.

I turned just in time to see him draw his arm back to send his fist careening toward my face. My reflexes kicked in and I ducked out of the way, the skin of his knuckles just grazing my cheek. Then, because he'd already swung at me, after all, I finally indulged the itch in my arm and punched him in the jaw so hard that he collapsed to the ground in a heap of dirty clothes and douchey hair.

"Thank you, officer." I smiled, one of the many genuine smiles I'd been mustering since I got back from jail.

"We'll be in touch."

The young deputy nodded his head at me and dropped the tape recorder into a plastic evidence bag. The thing was tiny, but it felt like a twenty-pound weight in my pocket all morning. I still couldn't believe that my plan had worked, unoriginal as it was. The police now had a recording of Donnie's confession, both to the vandalism and the falsification of evidence. Plus, when I originally asked to speak to Sheriff Beringer, I was informed that he was on suspension.

For the first time in a long time, things in my life were balancing. Who knew? Maybe soon they'd even settle for good.