Chapter 3
Jessie
Morning wakes me with a throb between my legs, shortly followed by the startling realization that I gave my first time away to a complete stranger. Speaking of which, I’m cold again, so I know that when I turn over, he won’t be there anymore. Not that I was expecting anything else, but it’s still a hurtful reality to have the man who gave you your first sexual encounter get his fill and move on without even a goodbye or thanks for letting me stay last night.
Eventually, I crawl slowly out of the sheets and pretend to ignore the few drops of blood on the bed. Like every morning, I fall into the everyday routine of getting up and ready for another day of hiding away and contemplating how to get through life without having a mental breakdown. As I put on my jeans and sweater, I take in the calmness of outside and look at the world pretending it wasn’t having an epic tantrum last night. Debris covers the front lawn but other than that, everything has returned to what it once was. The power is back on, the phone line is beeping, and the tranquility of outside is resumed. The only thing that is no longer intact is my hymen and what little self-esteem I had before I got fucked and left last night.
“Jessie?” Mom answers the phone in a slight panic, probably over my sanity at having been left alone for the first time in years last night. “Are you alright? We tried to call but, well, the weather, you know.”
“I’m ok,” I reply flatly, “the power went out; it was dark.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Jessie,” she says as though she could have prevented such a thing from happening.
“It’s not your fault, Mom,” I say with a fake smile on my face. It’s awkward; it has been since I returned…years ago.
“Listen, we’re about an hour and a half away. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Ok, see you then,” I say and hang up without waiting for a reply. I feel guilty for our strained relationship, but it is what it is, as painful as it is to admit that.
Sighing loudly, I look out to see my imaginary figure hiding in the bushes again, so I blink rapidly to make him disappear. I’m not sure I’ll ever be rid of him completely; he shaped my life and who I am. I fear, because of that, I’ll remain here forever, seeing the memory of a nightmare no one could save me from until I lost myself within this lifeless existence. The idea of being in this house without my parents fills me with dread. There’s a difference between being imprisoned with company and imprisoned with nothing else but your fear.
After washing my teeth and face, I make my way downstairs to the kitchen where I spy the flashing red light of the dishwasher signaling for me to empty it. I head straight over to open the door only to find it’s empty. I guess that’s my payment for last night, a domesticated stranger cop who comes to take away women’s virginities when they should have lost it ages ago to some high school boyfriend. I never had that, never could; I was never there.
I go through the ritualistic motions of making tea and toast with a thin layer of honey on top. A meal I will make last until late afternoon because I will most likely sleep away the second half of the morning. After which, I will sink into a fit of depression. I sometimes wonder if it would hurt to kill yourself. How would I do it? What would cause everyone around me the least amount of inconvenience?
Shaking the thought out of my head like it’s a bad smell, I shuffle into the living room and instantly drop my mug and plate to the floor with a crash. However, my audible gasp, together with my clumsy reaction isn’t enough to make him turn around. He simply continues to stare out the window with his gun in hand, wearing a suit jacket over a pair of jeans and a white, fitted tee. All his tattoos which had fascinated me so much last night are now hidden from view.
“Pack up some shit, Jessie,” he says, rubbing the barrel of his handgun up against his cheek like it’s his own personal scratching post. “We leave in five minutes.”
“No,” I whisper with my heart palpitating at the sight of his gun and the suggestion that he is going to take me somewhere against my will. I begin to try and back away, to retreat into the kitchen behind me, but he casually turns around and looks me dead in the eye.
“I’m afraid I have to insist,” he says without any hint of an apology. I shake my head rapidly because how the hell can this be happening to me again? The odds must be ridiculous to even fathom such an idea.
“I can’t, no, not again,” I say with a quiet sob in my voice, and with tears already streaming down my face.
“Jessie,” he says with authority as he walks slowly up to my quivering body, right up until we’re only inches apart, “you don’t have a choice. Get your shit or I will take you without it.”
“Why?” I cry before slumping against him because my legs have now turned to jelly. The insurmountable amount of fear inside of me has rushed straight to my head, causing me to feel dizzy. All rationality and normal function have exited my body in one fell swoop.
“Jessie,” he says calmly, “I understand this is scary for you right now, but I need you to stand up for me.” His soft words and his straight-to-the-point instruction have me shakily moving upright once again; he’s obviously studied psychology of some kind. “OK?”
I slowly nod because in the grand scheme of things, I’m pretty fucking far from ok but as for standing and thinking a little more clearly goes, I’m better than I was. Right now, I just want him to tell me what the hell is going on.
Warren walks me slowly to the couch where he sits me down like a lifeless lump of clay. He then stands before me and returns his gun to the holster sitting beneath his jacket. The action reminds me that he’s a man of the law, someone who is supposed to protect me, to help me stay safe from men who want to take me against my will.
“I’m not a cop.”
Oh, shit.
“I was sent here to kill you last night.”
Oh, fucking shit!
_____
Phoenix
When my latest conquest passes out from my little speech just now, I have to leap forward to try and catch her in time. The last thing I need is for her to hit her head and get a concussion. No, what I need to do is get her ass out of here before she comes to and bolts; she’s very much in danger, but not from me, which is a first. Usually, I am the villain sent forth to slaughter whoever happens to have crossed me, but not this time.
Without waiting for her to gain consciousness, I lift her tiny frame and take her to my truck which I hid around the back of the house. Its presence is a stark contrast to the swanky little seaside homes around here, Jessie’ house included, but it does the job and has never let me down. Of course, it’s not used to so much rain, so I hope to God it doesn’t react badly to it.
Securing Jessie tightly within a pair of old handcuffs, I dart inside to try and shove a few personal items into a bag, then jump into the truck myself. As I fire up the engine, I look over at the girl who is still out cold. I’m not sure why she’s still passed out, usually when someone faints, they come-to fairly quickly. However, as I continue glancing at her every few moments, I notice her dark eyes, grey skin, and limp hair. She’s utterly exhausted. She’s no doubt wiped out from fearing every shadow that lingers in corners, every stranger who looks at her in a shop, every damn thing in her solitary existence. She’s out for the count and her body is grateful for it.
“Javier,” I utter when he finally picks up the phone, “I’m on my way back.”
“And is your target taken care of?” I look at the sleeping girl again, currently frowning, even in sleep, before I answer that question.
“Very much so,” I half lie, “see you sometime tomorrow.”
“Si,” he mumbles before we hang up on each other.
I drive for a good few hours, letting her sleep in her tightly curled fetal ball, but when I can no longer ignore my hunger and pull over for some lunch, I decide it’s finally time for Sleeping Beauty to wake up. If she sleeps all day, she won’t sleep tonight and will no doubt keep me up with her whining and crying about wanting to get back to her old folks’ home, living an existence of sleeping and walking from one room to another. I feel like a damn babysitter, which only makes last night all the more disturbing.
After flicking some water into her face, she stirs before suddenly coming-to with the startling realization of what occurred between this morning and now. Without a sound, she looks straight out of the windscreen with bulging eyes and a gaping mouth. She then turns her attention back to me, aka, the motherfucker who took her virginity and then her freedom. Oh, and I just so happened to let her in on the little secret about my being sent to wipe her off the face of the Earth. Aren’t I a charming asshole!
A split second later, she’s scrabbling back onto the seat beside me as if trying to place as much distance between us as possible. Of course, I’ve kept her securely cuffed, a fact that only serves to panic her even more. She doesn’t scream though, which surprises me, but then I guess this isn’t her first abduction. Instead, she lifts her free hand up to her mouth and silently sobs into it, looking at me and silently begging me to let her go.
“Please?” she eventually cries.
“I can’t, sweetheart, trust me,” I reply, shaking my head and looking around just to double check no one can hear or see this. “I’ve gotta take you with me.”
“No,” she cries with her shoulders beginning to shudder through the force of it. “No, you don’t. I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”
My heart hurts for her because she must have done the exact same thing to the asshole who took her from her family when she was only eleven, and now, here she is again.
“Jess,” I sigh, “I was sent to kill you,” I repeat as before, causing her already pale complexion to turn even more deathly white. Her cries become that much more intense, so I grab her hand, which trembles against mine. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to.”
“Wh-who? W-why?” she sobs with shaky, uncontrollable breaths.
“I don’t know yet,” I reply, withdrawing my hand through guilt if nothing else. I don’t even know who ordered me to take her life; I can’t imagine how monstrous that makes me look. “I was hired by a third party without any explanation. I will tell you everything I know, I promise, but I need to get us going so we can be somewhere safe by nightfall. Do you understand?”
“I don’t understand any of this,” she sighs, closing her eyes and submitting in defeat, “and I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone.”
“I know, I wouldn’t trust me either.” I laugh a little to lighten the mood, though, as expected, she doesn’t respond in any way. “Apart from my baby sister, I make it a rule not to trust anyone else either. But right now, I’m the best you have; you feel me?”
“Do I have any choice?”
She opens her eyes a little and I see that exhaustion again, that all-consuming tiredness that’s ripping the fight from her. So, I decide to make it easy on her when I shake my head, effectively making the choice for her.
_____
Phoenix
“Hey,” I utter this first word in what must be hours. Nothing comes from her, so I nudge her naked shoulder that has fallen out of her baggy cardigan. It’s the type your grandmother knits with severely bad eyesight and misjudged spatial awareness, meaning it’s both ugly and enormous. My attempts to wake her up remain unanswered as she continues to snore gently against the seatbelt that I had forced around her. “Hey, Jess, wake up!”
Nothing! If it wasn’t for her muffled snoring, I’d lean in and check to see if she was still breathing; she can clearly sleep through anything. If memory serves, however, it was a loud bang that had woken her in the middle of the night, so I brace my hand above the dash only to bring it down with an almighty thump.
“Hey, Jess!” She wakes with wide eyes and a sharp intake of breath, no doubt with the memory of yours truly flooding through her brain in a matter of seconds.
“You can’t sleep anymore,” I tell her firmly, like I’m a mother stopping her exhausted toddler from dropping off during the day. She sneers before rubbing her eyes for what I’m sure is longer than is necessary.
“I get car sick,” she informs me bluntly.
“Yeah, well, I’m not staying up with you all night,” I reply while avoiding her penetrating stare. After all, it wasn’t exactly painful to stay up with her last night, given what we did. “Apologies if I sound like your mother but you won’t sleep tonight if you sleep all day.”
“Once upon a time I slept for twenty hours a day, Warren,” she says curtly and with added bite when she says my name. “My mother wasn’t there then, and she isn’t here now.”
It’s ok, sweetheart, I’m a little bitter too.
“Ok, but don’t expect me to stay up with you, and don’t be surprised if I cuff you to the bed,” I say with a smirk, only to instantly regret it. “I mean, I can’t risk you making a run for it.”
“Fine, are we finished?” She eyes me with contempt, but I kind of like her feisty attitude. After all, it reminds me of the low-life scum I am.
“If you want,” I tell her with a shrug of my shoulder, keeping my eyes dead ahead on the empty roads. She nods, turns over, and returns to her state of unconsciousness. It must be the only place she truly feels at peace.