Chapter 5
W hy was her backpack so heavy? Why did I care? Why was I headed to the pharmacy to get supplies for a girl with a cold whom I had basically just met? A girl with some pretty provocative choices for underwear. My body heated at the thought of her lacy boy shorts and the red hipsters with a rip at the seam that said “Five stars. Would eat here again.” on the ass. I was used to women who wore expensive thongs and then complained about their nonexistent panty line. There was something so refreshing about Jessamine and her ripped, I don’t give a fuck underwear. The one problem was the men’s clothing that I had folded along with hers. I had no right to be jealous. I didn’t even want to be. I would much prefer to be following my own rules and living out my self-imposed prison of misery, but somehow, my interest in her had left reason behind.
I stopped at a CVS and went to the cold and flu aisle. I got a bottle of ibuprofen, a bottle of vitamin C gummies, a box of elderberry tablets, and a bag of throat lozenges. Back in my old life, I had to be healthy all the time, so these items were readily available to me, and I was well-versed in healing a sore throat. At the checkout, I added a chocolate bar and a bottle of electrolyte water. After paying, I made my way back to the high-end strip mall and awkwardly carried the bag, my guitar, stool, speaker, and mic to the area a bit past Kafe. I had discovered there was a sports bar on the corner, and there was nothing better than tips from happy, drunk sports fans as they listened to some of their favorite music. After setting up, I doubled back to the coffee shop and made my way inside. A man stood at the register, and Jessamine was nowhere to be found.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I’m looking for Jessa.” I let my voice trail off so as not to say her full name in front of her co-worker.
“I sent her home,” he responded, sudden interest gleaming in his eye. “She was running a fever.”
“Oh.” I felt disappointed, holding a bag of items that would have definitely helped her. “Where’s home?”
Her co-worker suddenly seemed uncomfortable.
“Well.” He fiddled with his phone for a second. “Who are you to her?”
I didn’t even know.
“We’ve been getting to know each other.” I tried to answer without sounding creepy.
“Are you the singer she’s been talking about?” he asked.
She’s been talking about me? Oh, my body liked the sound of that. I nodded.
“It’s funny you’re a singer; I had you pegged as a murderer. But ya know…” He shrugged.
“Wrong guy,” I replied weakly.
“Alright, I’ll tell you, but keep it to yourself, please.”
Okay, things were feeling kind of weird.
“No problem,” I assured him and braced myself for his answer.
“She lives in the tent town near the creek. If you follow the path into the park, you just keep walking along the side of the creek, and you’ll eventually see it. I’m not sure which tent she’s in though. I’m sorry.” The sincerity in his voice showed how much he genuinely cared about her, and I appreciated that she had a co-worker like him.
“I’ll try to find her. Thank you.”
My heart felt funny as I found out that happy Jessamine, who came across as so carefree, was carrying some heavy burdens of her own. Emotionally, I assumed, but also physically as I thought of her backpack. She told me she had everything in there, and now I understood that wasn’t far off from the truth.
“No problem,” I heard him say as I left and another customer walked in. I went back to the bar, disassembled all of my equipment, and lugged it back to my van. Then I took the shopping bag and crossed the street. I found the entrance to the park easily and followed the path for about twenty minutes until a bunch of tents came into view. The area was clean for the most part. Some needles and condom wrappers were scattered in the bushes, and I felt apprehensive until I remembered what I now looked like and the damage I could ensue on anyone who bothered her. Her . The thought reverberated in my mind. Apparently, I felt protective over Jessa. That was interesting but not surprising to me at this point.
As I grew closer, I saw a younger-looking man standing outside a red tent that was slightly larger than the others scattered around it. He looked up suspiciously when I approached. I could see from his pupils and the slight delay in movement that he was high on something.
“Hi, sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for Jessa Bardot.”
“Who’s asking?” He seemed fidgety and a bit restless.
“My name is Kian. We’ve been hanging out a bit at her work.”
“You gave her your coat?”
I nodded wordlessly. I didn’t realize how much she needed it, and now I was so glad I had the intuition to give it to her. I wasn’t sure if I was about to face an angry boyfriend though.
“She’s in there.” He pointed to the tent with his thumb. “But she’s pretty sick, and I don’t know what to do.” He worriedly ran his hands along the strings of his hoodie.
“I brought supplies.” I held up the bag, and he looked relieved.
“Are you her boyfriend?” I asked, stepping closer to the tent.
“Brother.” He almost interrupted me.
Ah, that explained the men’s clothes in her laundry yet his lack of territorial behavior.
“My name is Myles.”
“Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand to shake his. He looked at me for a moment, seemingly taken aback, and then shook mine limply.
“Let me see if she’s up for visitors,” he said as he slipped into the tent. It made me sad how he said that, yet he was referring to a cold tent, not a proper home. I knew it sounded funny coming from me, the guy who lived in his van. Although mine was by choice, and I was sure theirs was due to circumstance.
I could hear the rumble of Myles talking, and then Jessamine’s voice said something in response. Myles reappeared in the doorway of the tent.
“Okay, come in. Excuse the mess; we’re redecorating,” he said sarcastically. I couldn’t help it, and I let out a burst of laughter. Myles patted me on the arm as I ducked my head to get into the tent.
“I like you already,” he told me with a grin. My humor quickly faded when I took in what I saw in front of me. Jessamine was lying in a sleeping bag, a NY Giants hat on her head and a pair of gloves on her hands. She was trembling with chills.
“H-hi. Fancy meeting you here.” She tried to give me a smile, but her teeth were chattering.
“Well, hi,” I said gently. “I swear I’m not stalking you.”
She tried to laugh, but it came out as a cough.
“A guy at your work told me where to find you. I hope that’s okay. I brought goodies.” I lifted up the CVS bag, and she nodded.
“Eric? Yeah, he thinks you’re a murderer.” She coughed again.
“Oh, he told me.” I grimaced.
“Are you?” Myles asked. His eyes were rimmed red, but he looked relatively healthy otherwise.
“No, but I could be if I needed to be.” I was dead serious.
“I mean, valid.” Myles seemed perfectly fine with what I had just said. I sat down next to his sister and took out everything I had bought. I watched her wash two ibuprofen capsules down with the water. She laughed at the childish shape of the gummies but compliantly chewed a couple. She had never heard of elderberry, so we googled it on her phone so she could read how it helps the immune system. Twenty minutes later, she was looking a tiny bit less pathetic.
“So obviously, you can’t stay here while you’re sick.” I broached the subject gently. Jessamine and Myles both looked at me.
“I mean, I can. I have,” she responded. “It sucks, but we live here for real, and this is how it is sometimes.”
“I know, but right now, you would definitely benefit from sleeping in a warm room and a comfortable bed. If you don't, you may never properly kick this thing.” I knew I was acting like the worried dad, but I couldn’t possibly walk away while she coughed up a lung in this freezing tent.
Myles nodded in agreement but didn’t say anything.
“I know, that sounds amazing, but I’m saving up for a car, so I can’t pay for a hotel room,” she said regretfully.
“I’ll get you a room.” I fiddled with the car keys in my pocket, wondering how this would play out.
“No.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t let you do that.”
“I insist. Can you walk to the parking lot of the mall, or are you too weak?”
“I can’t leave Myles,” she said in protest.
“He can come too.” I looked over at her brother.
“I can’t go anywhere.” He looked ashamed but explained honestly. “I promised Jessa that I wouldn’t buy too many pills at one time and only buy from this one guy over here because his product is safe. So I don’t want to leave and then go through withdrawals before I can get back here.”
I appreciated his candor.
“What are you on?” I asked him.
“Usually weed, perks, sometimes Xanax. Once in a while, he’ll give me shrooms or Ketamine.”
“I have a few Xanax left over from… Well, what I’m trying to say is if your sister is cool with it, I can give you a few to hold you over while you stay in the hotel. That way, you don’t have to worry about feeling sick,” I told him.
Jessamine looked conflicted. I could see that she was afraid to leave him alone, but it also felt wrong to actively give him pharmaceuticals. Myles pushed his shoe against the edge of the tent for a moment.
“Okay, but I’m worried they’ll take the tent and our spot while we’re away.”
“Aight, I got this.” I pushed my way back out of the tent and called loudly. “Hey, everyone, listen up!”
Heads popped out of the tents around us. People sitting outside smoking looked over at me.
“This is Jessa and Myles’s tent and spot. They’re going away for a couple of days, and if any of you take their stuff while they’re gone, you will deal with me. Do you understand?” I made my voice louder and more menacing than was natural for me. I saw heads nod, and others eyed my muscles. I gave them all one last look and then went back into the tent, where I found Jessamine laughing.
“I doubt Larry is ever gonna ask me for a blow job again after you just scared the bejeezus out of them.”
“He what?” I looked aghast.
“I mean, I’ve never done it.” She defended herself dramatically. “He just likes to ask. Often.”
“Ew, Jessa.” Myles looked insulted for her. I picked up her backpack and swung it over one shoulder.
“This is fucking heavy.” I looked over at her, not happy that she had to lug this thing around everywhere she went. She shrugged.
“I’m used to it.”
I watched as Myles grabbed his own bag and helped his sister step out of her sleeping bag. He then rolled it up and placed it next to his at the side of the tent. The three of us slowly made our way from the park back to where my van was parked. As I fished in my pocket for my keys, I told them, “So, I live here.”
“Like here?” Myles pointed at the van. I nodded. Whatever reservations Jessamine had been holding onto seemed to fade away when she concluded that I was basically as homeless as she was.
“Oh, I didn’t realize.” She let me open the door and help her up into the front seat. I didn’t clarify what she did or didn’t really know; I just let her sit with her assumptions as I slid open the side door. I had removed all of the seats but one to make room for my bed. I moved my guitar off the captain's seat to clear a spot for Myles. He got in, and I shut the door behind him. I took a deep breath before I walked around to the driver’s side. This was not at all how I saw my day going, yet I felt a hum of something inside of me. Almost like the reverberations of music that you could feel before you could hear it. Something that felt like hope.
I drove them to the nearest hotel and had them wait in the van as I went inside and got a room for two nights under Jessamine’s name, as I couldn’t risk putting my name on it. They let me use a prepaid Visa card, too, which was very helpful. When I went back to get them, Jessamine’s tired eyes met mine.
“I don’t mean to pry, but I feel guilty letting you pay for this.” She gestured to the van. “I know you work hard for your money, and I don’t want to take…”
I cut her off.
“I won a fight last week, so I’m good on cash right now.”
“A fight?” She sounded confused.
“I box,” I explained. “I compete once a month.”
Curiosity shone in her eyes.
“I want to see that,” she said as I helped her get out of her seat and closed the door behind her. I got the bottle of Xanax out of the side of my carry-on bag and slid it into my pants pocket.
“I don’t think you’d like it.” I rejected her idea of coming to a fight.
“I really want to.” She was so fragile looking all huddled up in my coat, her cheeks pink from the cold air. Her hair was cascading around her in a tangled mess, and her eyes were shiny with fever. I could only imagine how the fight environment would eat her alive. With her having made it on the streets this long, she obviously could hold her own, but I could almost hear the inappropriate comments she would get from the fighters. Forget about the pimps trying to recruit her and the strippers looking at her like some sort of outside competition. I didn't even know if I would be able to focus on the fight, knowing she was sitting, vulnerable, in the crowd somewhere.
“Let’s get you up to your room,” I said as we crossed the parking lot. The ride up in the elevator was quiet and a little awkward. I didn’t yet know her all that well, so although my instincts had led me to jump in and help, we weren’t really in a place where quiet felt comfortable or small talk felt natural. When we got to their room, I took the keycards out of my pocket and unlocked the door. Myles went in first, surveying the room, and then fell dramatically onto one of the two queen beds.
“Holy shit, that feels good.” He moaned. Jessamine giggled, and I could see the sheer happiness on her face.
“He hasn’t slept in a bed in three years, so this is very exciting.”
I would have expected to see shame on her face or hear embarrassment in her tone, but I didn’t. She just wholly embraced herself and her situation and didn’t seem hard-pressed to make any excuses for it. I was growing more and more impressed by her confidence every time I was around her.
“How long have you been living in your van?” she suddenly asked.
“A little over a year.” I didn’t offer any other details as I placed her bag on one of the chairs. I then took the prescription bottle out of my pocket and counted out a few pills. As I handed them to her for safekeeping, I could see Myles watching, but he remained silent.
“Alright, well, rest up.” I awkwardly started to head for the door when she stopped me.
“I get two questions a day.”
I sighed.
“Okay, hit me with it.”
“Will you come back for dinner later?” She had taken off my coat and sweatshirt and was standing there in a tight, long-sleeved shirt. I swallowed quickly as I got my first good look at just how sizable her chest was in comparison to her small waist. I averted my gaze and answered the ceiling.
“What’s for dinner?” I sounded hoarse.
“Room service.”
The room was closing in on me as images of her taking her shirt off flooded my mind. I could see her wild hair falling over her body and her dusky nipples peeking through the strands.
“Let me see how the day goes.” I swallowed heavily again. “You sleep; if I can make it back, I will.”
“Okay.” She smiled and watched me back up to the door and waved as I left. I ran as fast as I could back to the safety of my van and hit the gym early when I realized she had only asked me one real question.
I had never skipped a day of busking since I had started, yet today called for an emergency workout. I felt so much guilt that I was able to help Jessamine when she needed it, but I had failed others so catastrophically. It seemed unfair that now I was able to be there for someone, yet when it had really mattered, I was unable to step up to the plate.
I also couldn’t ignore how attracted I was to her anymore. I was almost glad that she was tan, dark haired, and curvy because she couldn’t be more different from the dainty blonde that haunted me, and somehow, I found comfort in that.
The gym was quieter during the day than it was at night, and it made it easier to do my chaotic workout without so many eyes on me. I pummeled the bag until my arms weighed heavy at my sides, and my knuckles throbbed in protest. Sweat poured down my face, and I could taste its salty path at the sides of my mouth. I took a long drink of electrolytes and then hit the showers. As always, my cock stood proudly, and although I had been ignoring him for over a year, today I finally palmed the length and had to hold back a groan when I did. I moved my hand hesitantly, as if to give myself a chance to back away and stop. The weeping head of my cock kept me going. I leaned against the wall, holding myself up with one hand as I dragged my fist down my erection and then back up. I began to move frantically, slick with my own precum. I imagined Jessamine flat on her stomach, me lying fully on top of her, caging her in and fucking her. She’d be soaking and moaning. I could feel her wetness seeping around my balls and making a mess of the sheets.
“Yesss,” I hissed between gritted teeth. I imagined her ass shaking with my every move, and I could see the slightly bruising bite marks I had left there earlier. I could still taste the tang of her pussy on my lips. She had come so violently on my face and had gotten my beard all dirty. I should make her clean it up. I grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged. I knew the bite of pain would hurtle her over the edge.
“Fucking come,” I ordered, and she did. Brilliantly and loudly. She shouted, cursed, and cried as I drove into her over and over, her tight channel choking my cock as she orgasmed all over me. I followed my invention of her seconds later, spurting all over my fingers and dripping cum onto the shower floor. My chest heaved as I stared down at it, my cock softening against my thigh. I shook my head as if to clear it, and then held my hand up to the water to wash it clean. This is what it had come to. Fake scenarios in my mind because I had fucked up so badly in real life that all I would allow myself to have now was my imagination.