Now
The weekend at the restaurant was exhausting, but the generous tips were a nice reward. Still, the lack of sleep caught up with me, thanks to the late nights I spent with Elliott; he would convince me to stay with him, pick me up, and then we’d end up making out and fucking until the wee hours of the morning.
I hesitantly let Elliott know that I would be sleeping in my own bed that night. Plus, I needed to start looking for my own place, figure out how the hell I’d get my driver’s license and own car, find a new therapist and in the midst of all that, forget about Michael’s threatening call that I received in New York. I was certain that changing my number would solve everything.
While I scrolled through pages and pages of apartments and rooms for rent, I received a call from an unknown number. I looked at the time at the top of my screen: 11:52 p.m. Who would be calling me at this time? Elliott? Too curious, I answered.
“Hello?” I crept out of the room so I wouldn’t wake any roommates.
“Sweet Jackie.”
My heart began to bang in my chest as fear spread throughout my body.
“What do you want? How did you get this number?” I was surprised at how calm and assertive I was being.
“I have my ways. Don’t you miss me?” There was a smile clear in his voice.
I started shaking and my knees began to buckle.
“Why are you calling me?” I asked, my voice becoming weaker.
He began to chuckle. “I want to see my sweet Jackie. Daddy misses you.”
I snorted. “That will never fucking happen.”
“No? How do you know I’ve not already seen you? How’s Los Angeles, by the way?”
I began to tremble and immediately hung up.
“What the fuck?” I cried to myself, tears streaming down my face.
He started calling back, but I turned my phone off immediately. My mind raced with panic: how did he get my new number? Is he in LA? Is he watching me? Why does he still want to torment me after all these years?
“Fuck this.” I went back into my room, grabbed my coat and purse, then headed down the street to Zee’s bar.
I walked in wearing leggings and Elliott’s flannel jacket, which made me look like a kid in a trench coat. It was past midnight on Sunday, but the place was still packed. I spotted Zee behind the bar, and she excitedly waved when she saw me coming.
“Hey! You’re back!” Her smile was infectious.
“Yeah, I—I’ve had a rough night. Can I get a vodka seven?” I asked, almost apologetically.
“Of course.” Her smile softened with understanding as she started making my drink.
She was quick to place my drink in front of me.
“Thanks. I’m Jackie, by the way,” I said, feeling bad about not greeting her in a friendlier manner.
“Nice to formally meet you, Jackie. So, why the bad night?” She put her elbows on the bar and intently waited for my answer.
I sighed and shook my head before I took a few gulps of my drink. “I was contacted by someone from my past. Someone…someone that abused me.”
Her mouth dropped in shock. “Fuck. Are you okay?” Her concern was evident, and she looked genuinely upset on my behalf.
I shook my head, taking a long sip of my drink. “Nope. Can I get another one?”
I quickly drank two more and became acquainted with Zee; I welcomed her friendly distraction. She was born and raised in LA, she just turned thirty-two, she had been a bartender for ten years and was sober for nine. I thought it was strange that she still wanted to be around alcohol every day when she was sober. I told her about moving back to LA because of the ominous phone call, about meeting Elliott, and we bonded over our love for David Bowie.
The bar was starting to clear the closer that 2 a.m. approached. I was four drinks in and not wanting to go back to my room alone. I wanted Elliott but I didn’t want him to see me drunk. I was already on the verge of tears and I didn’t want to talk about Michael, even though I knew that would inevitably be brought up because drunk Jackie was an even bigger mess than sober Jackie.
“Hey, let me walk you home. I can close up after,” Zee offered, breaking me out of a drunken daze.
I nodded slowly and unevenly. “Okay.”
I was relieved that I would have someone by my side when I would inevitably get murdered by Michael; my drunken mind was certain he was watching me at that very moment.
I stumbled off my seat and put my coat on, following Zee out the back door. She had her arm wrapped around my shoulders as we walked toward the main street, the cold air hitting me with a wave of surprise.
“I thought California was supposed to be warm,” I slurred out, suddenly laughing.
Zee kindly laughed beside me as she pulled her phone out.
“I mean, it’s forty-six degrees. Aren’t you used to that kind of weather?” she teased.
I shrugged. “I guess. I’m just like…I’m so fucking angry,” I murmured, my mind already on Michael. “Who does he think he is? He’s just a fucking rich boy that hates women. You look like her. She was very kind to me.” My thoughts were all over the place and I knew it even in my drunken state.
“Like who?” Zee asked, looking both ways as we crossed the street.
“Hana. The girl he kidnapped,” I stated dryly.
I could feel her eyes on me now. “Jesus Christ. And this fucker is out of jail now?”
I didn’t even realize I had told her about that.
“Yes. He’s probably here now.” I shrugged. “I don’t know why.”
We finally reached the front of my building, and Zee let out a loud sigh. “Are you sure you don’t wanna crash at my place?” she offered.
I laughed for some reason. “No, I mean, I’ll be fine.”
That’s when I saw Elliott walk out of my building with a look of surprise and concern.
“Where have you been? I’ve been calling you, Jacqueline,” he said as he quickly wrapped his arms around me.
“I assume you’re Elliott?” Zee asked him.
“Yes. You are?” he asked curiously.
“I’m Zee. I’m glad you’re here. She’s spooked about that fucker Michael,” she explained.
I groaned in Elliott’s chest; now I was definitely going to have to explain what happened.
He looked down at me. “What happened, baby?”
“See ya guys,” I heard Zee say as she walked off.
Elliott looked back at her as he walked us into the lobby. “Thank you for getting her here safely.”
I immediately broke down in tears. “Michael called me. He said he wanted to see me and that he knew I was in LA. I have no fucking idea how he got my number,” I sobbed.
Elliott looked around and at the front desk receptionist.
“Let’s get your things. You’re staying with me.” He took my hand and guided me up the stairs.
“ All of my things?” I asked as I carefully followed him, holding the wall.
“Yes. You’ll be safe with me, Jacqueline.”
God, I love the way he says my name. I almost forgot about everything else going on as I listened to his deep, calming voice.
“I already paid until the end of the week though,” I argued.
I knew that if I began to stay with him, I would never want to leave.
He looked back at me with a small smile. “I’ll pay you back for it.”
I groaned again and we stopped in the hallway leading to the room.
“Elliott, I can’t. I don’t even…I can’t,” I stammered, struggling to find the right words. My fear was overwhelming, not just about staying with him but also about Michael.
“Jacqueline,” he whispered, looking down at me and taking my hands. “He called me too. That’s why I came looking for you.”
My heart began to race wildly again. “What?” My voice trembled. “What did he say?”
Elliott sighed deeply. “It doesn’t matter. He was just trying to mess with me.”
I began to cry, but then I thought of a deal. “ Please tell me, Elliott. And then I’ll come stay with you.”
He scanned my face, concern clear in his eyes. “He asked me why I still wanted you when you were his.”
I scoffed. “What did you say?”
I was sobering up real quick.
Elliott hesitated before he answered. “I told him to fuck off and if he came anywhere near you, I’d kill him. Then I hung up.”
My mouth dropped. I knew at that moment that I was in love with him.
“Thank you. Let me go get my things.”