Chapter 6 #3
“I stopped by the station about an hour ago, and she was in the cell. I guess she did something wrong—I heard of her reputation. Never believed it, but it must not all be rumors if she’s in there.
Right? I mean, Jake,” he clears his throat, “I mean Officer Attleborough wouldn’t lock up an innocent person, right?
” He shrugs with such certainty that I feel like I’m going insane.
He doesn’t know her or Jake well, and yet he’s so quick to judge the situation.
Pot, meet kettle, my subconsciousness perversely suggests.
“Was somebody else in there?” I ask through gritted teeth. Other than his incorrect assumptions, Jonah didn’t do anything wrong. I try hard not to punch him in the face.
“No, just Jake—I mean, Officer Attleborough—and her.” His cheeks pinken as he quickly adjusts his words.
“Okay, Jonah. Thanks,” I tell him shortly and march toward my truck.
“Don’t you want coffee?” he asks, but I’m already gone.
Jake is in over his head this time. Way over his head.
I’m fuming by the time I reach the station. I push the door hard and barrel inside. There’s nobody there but Jake and her .
She sits on a cot with her legs up, leaning against the wall behind her, her palms resting on the top of her knees. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun—not the artistic kind, but the end-of-the-day, leave-me-alone kind .
“Jake!” I roar, never taking my eyes off her. She jumps at the sound of my yell, her eyes wide.
“What?’ he barks, leisurely walking from the back room with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. I can smell Donna’s special roast from here, and she’s very particular about who she shares it with. “What?” he repeats as he strolls to his desk and takes an easy sip.
“What is she doing here?” I jerk my head at the cell. In my peripheral vision, I see her watching us with open curiosity. She hasn’t changed her pose, but her attention is definitely focused on us. I feel her eyes tracing my every move.
“Who? Ms. Adams?” He slowly takes another sip, making sure to slurp the liquid for full effect, fully knowing it will drive me nuts.
“Yes, Jake, her,” I answer more patiently than he deserves.
“Well, I can’t share it with you—” he starts in that annoying, overconfident manner he usually uses at work.
“Cut it out, Jake.” My voice resembles one of an animal rather than a human at this point.
“—but, if you must know,” he continues without missing a beat, “she’s here for disturbing the peace on the streets of our fine town.” A loud snort comes from the cell while Jake takes another sip, and I clench my fists so I won’t take his mug and throw it in his face.
“Jake.” I scrub my face with my hands. “You’ve gone too far this time. You’re clearly abusing your position.”
“The fuck I am!” With that, his chill demeanor breaks, and he jumps up. “She’s here because she deserves to be here, and you know it!”
I glance at her: she’s set her feet down on the floor, her elbows resting on her knees.
She’s listening while she fidgets with something in her hand.
I turn back to my brother, and I don’t cushion my tone for him.
“Let. Her. Go.” Jake pales a little—there’ve only been a few times he’s seen me like this to date, and none of them ended well for the parties involved.
He visibly swallows, his tone changing from arrogant to pleading.
“C’mon, I’m just having a little fun, that’s all.”
“You are a fucking cop, Jake! How the hell do you think all this,” I gesture to him and Kayla, “is okay?”
“She knows it’s just for fun.” His voice shrinks as he defends himself. As it fuckin’ should be.
“Look at her.” I wave at the cell. “Does it look like she’s having fun?” He follows my hand and winces. “That’s right. Let her out and pray she doesn’t sue your ass.”
“Don’t give her ideas. Her trailer-trash brain wouldn’t come up with that on her own.” He smirks, throwing a patronizing look at her.
“Shut up, Jake!” I thunder. He skitters away toward the cell, the keys clinking in his hand like in an old film with a damn dungeon. Then I hear her light footsteps.
“Thank you,” she says quietly to me… and just leaves. I expected thunder, yelling, and lightning, maybe a punch to Jake’s face… but she just leaves without another word. And it bugs me. It bugs me more than I care to admit.
Jake returns to his desk a moment later and stands in front of me, his chest puffed like he’s a little baboon. A little baboon who’s about to get his ass beaten by a gorilla. I’m about one snide remark away from pounding on my chest and wiping the floor with his smug face.
“Happy now?” he asks bitterly, as if it had been my fault that he was a piece of shit abusing his position of power.
“You’re gonna let Kenneth know about that.” Is all I can manage at the moment without strangling him .
“Or what?” he challenges, straightening his shoulders.
“Or I will,” I answer through clenched teeth.
He thinks for a second. “I’ll let him know,” he says dismissively, then adds with a note of disbelief, “Huh. You really put her above your own family. Above your own brother.”
I take a careful step toward him, and he doesn’t back down—it looks like he grew some balls after all, but he picked the wrong time for that.
The worst time. “You’re my brother, and that’s exactly why I will tell him.
I don’t like the person you’re becoming.
” Then I look straight into his eyes, and he flinches, unable to hold my gaze.
“Hell, I don’t like the person you’ve already become, and I don’t want you to disappear farther down that road.
That’s why I will tell him, Jake. But I’ll give you the opportunity to be a man and do it yourself first.” I give him one last menacing look and stride outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
She’s far down the road, slowly walking toward the diner.
It’s a long walk from here, and it started to drizzle while I was inside the station.
I jump into my truck and drive toward her.
When I reach her, I stop the car and roll the window down.
“Get in the truck.” I sound rough after my argument with Jake.
I can’t help it. For the first time in forever, I think I want to sound softer with her.
She stops, startled. “No, Justin. I’m fine.” She continues her walk, not paying attention to me anymore.
“Get in the truck, Kayla.” I say with a sigh. Her head whips toward me, her eyes as big as saucers, big and unblinking. “What?” I ask.
“Never heard you call me by my name.” And with that, somebody from above pulls the stopper on the sky, and the rain pours down, soaking her to the bone in an instant .
“In the car. Now!” I bark, and she obeys. Fucking finally.
The scent of ozone and strawberries fills the cabin of my truck, and it instantly suffocates me. I’m trying to breathe through my mouth so I don’t smell it, but fucking strawberries tickle my nose. It makes my mouth water.
I quickly glance at her: she’s staring ahead. She’s right, though—I don’t recall ever calling her by her name. Maybe, a long time ago. But not for a long while.
“Jake’s an idiot, but he doesn’t mean any harm,” I start cautiously. But I know that isn’t true. My brother goes overboard, and after recent events, he’s even more edgy than usual.
She snorts and wipes her nose with her hand, staring blankly out the passenger side window. “Figures.”
“What?” I ask while staring at her, waiting for her to divert her attention from the passing scenery to me.
Her laughter is abrupt. “You got me in here so you can threaten me not to report your brother. Typical.” She’s tapping her finger on her knee.
“No,” I sigh. “That’s not why I wanted you to get in here.”
“Why, then?” She finally looks at me for the first time.
I’ve never seen her this close before. Never.
Her eyes are hazel, with deep chocolate streaks in them.
Sparkly. Why are they sparkly? She sniffles and wipes her nose again.
Oh fuck, that’s why. I’m used to seeing her taking all the shit thrown her way with a raised head and a steel spine, so I didn’t expect her to go all misty-eyed on me.
When I finally say, “It’s raining outside, and you don’t have your car,” her laughter is dark, sad, and very, very tired.
“Yeah, your brother made sure of that.”
I shake my head slightly. “Why don’t you pick it up? ”
“Really? Do you think I have two grand just lying around, waiting to be spent on a car that’s older than me and probably isn’t even worth that much? Newsflash— I don’t ,” she spits, flustered, and turns to stare ahead of her, fidgeting with her hair.
“Two grand?” I almost whistle.
“Yep.” She pops the p .
“How the fuck did you get two grand’s worth in tickets?”
She scoffs at this. “Ask your brother how.” She shrugs and pushes her hands under her thighs.
I squeeze the wheel. Yeah, he’s gotta stop that. I sigh and put the truck in drive. I need to find a way to get her car back. Jake is an asshole, and I need to remedy the situation. Even just a little.
I stop in front of the diner. “Do you need a ride home tonight?”
She laughs and climbs out of the car without a word. Okay, then. I check the time: it’s four fifty, so the DMV is closed for sure. Doris likes to slack on time, and even though her official hours are nine to five, she’s nowhere to be seen by four-ish.
I’m contemplating if I should wait for Kayla or not.
She looked miserable, and it’s partially my fault, considering the unfortunate fact that I’m related to my idiot of a brother.
I look around and don’t see Marina’s car.
The lights switch on in the diner—okay, so she might be alone in there.
How will she get to her trailer, which is on the other side of the fucking mountain?
I decide to wait for a few.
And I wait. For a whole minute. Fuck that, I decide, turning the truck off before dashing into the diner as I try to avoid the heavy, fat raindrops all around me .
The moment I step inside, I regret my rash decision instantly, but it’s too late to run. Her back is to me as she sits on one of the high tops at the bar. She’s hunched over, her face resting in her hands and her shoulders shuddering in waves of misery as she silently cries.
I want to turn around and disappear, but I can’t. No matter how forcefully I will my feet to move backward, they begin moving forward. Toward her .
“Kayla?” I ask gently, so out of my usual range.
She jumps in her seat, startled. Vigorously wiping at her tears before turning to me, I realize that she only made an even bigger mess, reddening her face to angry blotchiness.
She takes a deep breath and asks, “What are you doing here?” Her voice trembling from recent sobs.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” I rock back and forth on my heels, feeling like an intruder who’s become privy to an intimate act. In a way, I am.
She sniffles loudly. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” I take a measured step toward her.
“I said I’m fine,” she snarls.
“Okay.” I keep my voice neutral, like with an injured animal.
“You can go now.” She dismisses me with a wave of her hand. Her sleeves are rolled up, and the colorful vine peeks out from underneath one. The dark green color on her pale skin mesmerizes me.
“Okay,” I agree, but I stay rooted to the same spot, only five feet away from her. I’d move closer, but I don’t want to spook her. What would I even do if I moved closer? The question of the century.
“Go, Justin. Now.” The anger in her voice becomes more prominent.
So, I go. Toward her. I cross the distance in two steps and stop in front of her. She lifts her face to mine and meets my eyes.
“Go away, Justin,” she whispers.
“Okay,” I whisper back. There’s nothing else I can say—my brain has checked out, and what’s left of my functioning mind is trying to command my eyes to move away from her pink lips she just had the audacity to lick.
“Go.” Her voice is barely audible this time. The way she says it on a slow exhale, with this low tremble, unusual for her voice, causes tingles at the back of my head. I swallow a lump in my throat and lean forward. Immediately, the sweet, now-familiar strawberry smell reaches my nose.
“Okay,” I exhale, and my breath fans the strands of hair around her face. She licks her goddamn lips again and opens them slightly. They’re all I can think of. All I can see. I lean closer and?—
A fucking car horn blasts loudly outside, and I jump back.
Fuck! I almost kissed her. What the hell was I thinking?
The sudden movement tightens my already-tight jeans further, and my poor dick weeps in pain.
It got awfully hard awfully fast with just the anticipation of a kiss.
Of a fucking kiss. With her . What the fuck is wrong with my body?
It wasn’t interested in anyone for a damn long time, so much so that I was about to go to the doctor to ask for a blue pill because that shit is embarrassing at my age.
And here he is, ready to go in a second.
I hate her a little more for that. For how she makes me feel and for how she’s broken my body without even knowing it.
I put my usual asshole mask back on and take two steps back. Her face falls, and she starts blinking. Her mouth is still slightly ajar, and I force my eyes to stay focused on the top part of her face so I don’t get lured in by her pink tongue again, thinking about how it would feel against mine.
Fuck.
She’s stopped crying. Mission accomplished. Time to go.
I turn around and leave without another word.