Broken Heart (Broken Heart #1) (6 page)

that classy, rich look. The kitchen table my father actually made with his bare hands when he wasn’t falling over from being intoxicated. He was a crafty and talented man. He often made tables

and dressers for some furniture stores around town, but no one ever hired him to work at the stores. They knew his temper and they knew how reckless his behavior could be. 

The pastor at our church always offered to hire him as the janitor, but my father refused, he said he was, “Better than that.” He was a proud man, my father. Although my mom went to church

every Sunday, I had to stay home and make breakfast for my father to help sober him up, so he could make it through the day. My mother would say to me, “I’ll pray for him at church. Jenesis,

you pray for your father here and ask God to help him. God will listen to you.” She would wipe my tears with her palms as her pretty red fingernails slowly traced down my face. I had always

prayed but I felt like God didn’t listen to me. She knew I hated to stay with him alone. She knew how badly he could treat me. Why did she leave me alone with him to go to church? 

Any day of the week, but especially on Saturday night, my father would lie on the couch in the living room with a bottle of whiskey, one eye open and the other eye shut, and he would fall asleep

with a crooked smirk on his face. I was eight-years-old and had the same routine every Saturday night for as long as I could remember. I’d wrap myself in the throw blanket from the couch and

stare at my father. I wanted so much to give my father a hug, but I knew if I had woken him up he would get mad. I prayed so hard that I would wrap the blanket tightly around my shoulders and

kneel by the fireplace and close my eyes and whisper, “God please, make my daddy stop drinking so he can play with me, so he can love my mom and treat her like a princess.” Then, I would glance

over at him with one eye open and the other eye squinted, to see if God miraculously cured him, but he didn’t move. 

I looked up at the ceiling as if I could see God himself, then, I would stand up quietly and walk up the stairs slowly, so I wouldn’t make noise. I walked on my tippy toes to my mother’s room, and

I would cover her with my throw blanket and kiss her goodnight. I used to lie on the corner of the bed and stare at the bedroom door until I fell asleep. I knew if the knob turned on that door that

was my cue to quickly hide underneath the bed, and wait until my father finished beating my mother. I would cover my mouth with my hands every time my mother yelled, begging him to stop

as he kicked and punched her. All I could see were my mother’s feet as she tried to run away from him and my father’s steel toe black army boots kicking her. I would clench my teeth and cry as I

covered my mouth with my hands so he wouldn’t hear me. In between my sobs, I would gasp for air and whisper through gritted teeth, “please…stop.” I was so exhausted from crying and watching

the horror show that I would fall asleep waiting for him to stop beating her. I never knew how long those beatings would last, and my nightmares continued as I fell asleep underneath her bed. 

I would wake up underneath my mother’s bed with inflamed eyes and an aching heart. I would stare cautiously at every corner of the room to see if anyone was there. My body shook as my

hands lay flat on their palms so I could slide from underneath the bed. The coast was clear if her slippers weren’t there. I knew it was safe to come out because that meant that she was getting ready

for church; or if it were during the week, it meant she was getting ready for work. I knew my father would always go back downstairs to the couch after he finished beating her. He never slept in the

bedroom with her, never. I didn’t remember a day in all of my years alive that my mother and father slept in the same room. He couldn’t stand sleeping in the same bed with her. I heard him

yell at her one day, and he said that touching her and feeling her body next to him made him cringe. I don’t know how she did it. How she stood with him so long. I don’t know how they even had me or how I was born into this toxic relationship. I felt like I was a curse to them. 

After a while, this nightmare I lived was just part of our everyday routine.

It just seemed normal, and no matter how much it tormented me, I couldn’t change a thing; I couldn’t change my life.

CHAPTER 4 

It took me a couple of weeks to settle in to my apartment; it was finally becoming a part of me. I had pictures on the walls of my mother and me. A picture on my end table stood out from the rest. It was a picture of my mother and me together on my first day away at college, wrapped in the

throw blanket I loved so much, sitting on my desk. Whenever I look at that photo, I wish I could go back to that day and make time stand still, so I could live in that memory forever.

I promised myself that I would go back to college, so I enrolled at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice to finish my degree. I already had taken the necessary coursework at Penn State for Forensic Science, so I wanted to complete the rest of my electives at John Jay. Though my advisor at the

time assured me this type of degree wouldn’t get me very far in life, I decided to finish what I started. He said, and I quote, “You’ll only be a caseworker for the City of New York with this

background, of course, you could work for the FBI,” he chuckled sarcastically as he lifted his eyebrows with a devilish smirk. Nice guy. What an inspiration, that asshole.

I took classes during the day and was looking for a job at night. I didn’t want to spend all of the insurance money paying for rent. I needed to pay some of the student loans off, and I wanted to

pay John Jay in cash. While I walked out of my last class for the day at John Jay, I noticed a police officer near the job posting board. He pinned a red square business card on the board, and as he

walked away, I walked over to the board and read the card, “looking for a part time secretary at night at the precinct, contact

David Hearns.” I grabbed the card and slipped it into my purse as discreetly as I could. I called the number that night and got the answering machine for the precinct. 

“This message is for David Hearns. I’m interested in the job. Call me back at 610-555-7677.” I was disappointed that I couldn’t speak to anyone, so I decided to call Vivian for a little pep talk.

“Hey, guess what?” 

“What?” I could hear her chewing on some chips.

“I applied for a job.”

“Really? Where?”

“In a police precinct.”

“A what? Why?”

“Viv, I need a job.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“I said in a precinct. I didn’t say I was a cop.” I giggled but she stayed silent.

“Well…just be careful. When can I visit?”

“As soon as I get a job so I can treat you to dinner in a fancy New York restaurant.” We both laughed. 

“Well, I better get some sleep. Back to job searching tomorrow. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Night, Viv.” 

“Okay…good luck. I hope they call you. Night, Jen.”

The next morning, the phone rang around seven. I must have passed out because I didn’t recall having a nightmare. The phone starting to ring again and I picked it up sleepily.

“Yeah, I got a phone call last night from this number. You interested in the job?” A loud obnoxious voice at the other end of the phone said abruptly.

“Hello? I’m sorry; I think you have the wrong number,” I said drowsily and uninterested.

“Well, did you call the precinct or not?” the man’s voice barked loudly. The precinct…I remembered. I quickly jumped up and sat up in the bed and said, “Oh my God! Yes, yes! I did call, I’m so sorry!” I nervously pulled the sheets off of me and jumped out of bed. 

“Okay, so…are you still interested? Can you come in later, say around, three for an interview?” he said impatiently. I could hear him tapping on something through the phone. 

“Yes, of course, I’ll be there.” My voice changed from nervous to relieved.

“Do you need the address?” he asked.

“No, it’s on the card. Thank you.” 

Things are looking up, I thought to myself. A potential job in the making and I needed it so badly. My student loans at Penn State were close to two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and I spent one hundred and fifty thousand dollars to pay most of it, and John Jay was going to take the rest.

I was afraid. Afraid I wouldn’t have money to live. I looked through my closet and chose a black silk buttoned down blouse and a long beige skirt. I wore my very comfortable Clark’s low-heeled shoes. I grabbed my purse, my coat and hat and walked down the stairs carefully making sure I

lifted my skirt not to trip over it. I hailed for a cab as the December chill crept up my skirt sending shivers through my lightly covered legs. I was keeping my fingers crossed in the cab ride all the way there. God, please let him hire me, I’m desperate…desperate.

We arrived at the precinct and when I got out of the cab, I dropped my purse and all of its contents went flying in different directions on the sidewalk.

“Dammit!” I mumbled. 

“Here, let me help you,” the voice of a handsome, tall man blew into my ear. He bent down to help me grab my belongings. His beautiful blue eyes shocked my system, and I dropped my compact mirror on the floor again and it shattered into tiny pieces on the sidewalk.

“Whoa…be careful.” He grabbed my hand to lift me to stand.

“Thank you.” My eyes were set on his. He smiled at me and bent down again and continued to pick up my lip-gloss and keys.

“Here you go…” He gently handed me my lip-gloss and keys. I grabbed my purse and placed everything back inside. 

“Thanks, I really had a hard day and this night just started.” I giggled flirtatiously.

“It happens.” He nodded his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I’m already late…thanks again.” I walked into the precinct and walked towards the front desk.

The reception from the people inside was typically New York. Everyone stopped and stared at me like I had three heads. I had three strikes against me already; I wasn’t from New York, I didn’t really know my way around the neighborhood, and I got lost and was fifteen minutes late. 

“Hi, I’m looking for David Hearns?” I asked the desk officer who seemed to be preoccupied with a crossword puzzle. Then the phone rang and he didn’t even glance up at me once.

“Yeah, wait here,” the desk officer snapped. As I waited for Mr. Hearns, an attractive woman with long brown curly hair and deep brown eyes dressed in her uniform stared at me noticeably irritated. Then, she cracked an uneven smile and answered the phone that rang on her desk.

“Can I help you?” said this tall, very handsome, older gentleman in his late forties…maybe even fifties. His soft oval-shaped brown eyes and long eyelashes to match glanced at me up and down. His dark brown hair was set in waves and his smile was gentle.

“Are you David Hearns?” I asked timidly as my eyes met his.

“Yes, and you are?” he answered with his eyebrows raised.

“You called me this morning and asked me to come in, for the night job?” I said trying to help him recall our morning conversation.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, sure… come on in. Jesse, get us some coffee, will ya? The rest of you, get to work! What the hell are you all staring at? Move!” he said, aggravated. He motioned with his hand for me to follow him to his office.

“Sit. Please… sit down, um, your name again?” he asked, seemingly lost. The very pretty woman walked in, handed me a cup of coffee, and seemed still equally irritated. She left the milk container

and packets of sugar and equal on his desk. The music from the radio on his desk was a little too loud. I glanced towards the radio then answered the question.

“Umm…I didn’t give you my name, its Jenesis. Jenesis Heart,” I answered nervously. The jazz music that was playing had distracted me. I loved the saxophone. It was one of my favorite instruments besides the violin.

“Yes, yes. Jenesis, well, it’s nice to meet you. Milk? Sugar? Equal? Don’t be shy now. Here, let me lower this.” He reached over to the radio and lowered down the music. He offered me the milk

and I poured some into my coffee, and grabbed two packets of equal. I stirred them into the coffee as he spoke. 

“I’m looking for someone who can work at night; a part-timer… you know…secretarial work you can say, you know, to do light paperwork? Filing…Are you familiar with computer programs like word, excel, PowerPoint’s? Tell me a little about you,” he rambled on as he asked one hundred

and one questions. His eyes widened with anticipation as he slowly tapped his fingers rhythmically on his desk. I knew he was tapping on something this morning over the phone.

“I majored in forensic science at Penn State, and I just recently moved to New York. I am familiar with all of those programs. I was a bit of a nerd in college. Umm…when you say work at night, do you mean like at six o’clock?” 

“Six o’clock? No, no. I mean at ten o’clock. Ten to two in the morning, a little more than a graveyard shift…I guess.” He laughed knowing I felt I was out of my comfort zone.

“Wow, that’s late.” I felt really uncomfortable, and I didn’t want him to notice, but it was too late for that.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” He chuckled.

“No… Pennsylvania, things are kind of slow there. But, that’s okay. I really need the job. I just worry about going home alone. I got lost coming here.” My head lowered in embarrassment. I wanted to crawl under his desk. I was really hoping I didn’t blow my chances of getting the job.

“Oh. Well, that’s not a problem. Where do you live?” he asked curiously as he sat back in his chair folding his arms across his chest.

“Not far… 695 St. Mark’s Place.” 

“Shut the hell up! Wait, seriously, I live there! Apartment #10, we’re neighbors!” he slammed his hands on the desk catching me off guard. I jumped back in my seat, my eyes widened and my mouth dropped open a little. I spilled my coffee on the floor and as I looked up at him, feeling like

a complete loser, he seemed to be panicked. He scared the hell out of me. I almost had a heart attack. 

“Jesus, I’m sorry.” He laughed. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said seriously as he handed me a paper towel. My cell phone vibrated in my purse. I pulled out the cell phone and there was a text

from Vivian. I glanced down and smiled. She made me relax after Mr. Hearns scared me half to death.

“Everything okay?” he asked curiously.

“Yes. It’s just my best friend Vivian. I can’t make a move without her blessing.”

“Really? How long have you been friends?”

“Forever.”

“Nice…well, we’re done here,” he said seriously. “So, since you live so close to me, I’ll have one of the officers take you home at night. Wow! That’s so strange, though. It’s a small world, ain’t

that right, Jen? You don’t mind if I call you Jen, do you?” His brown eyes smiled at me as he leaned forward resting his big hands on top of his desk.

“No, Jen is fine. It sure is a small world. I live in apartment 12 upstairs on the fifth floor,” I said hesitantly as I stared into his big dark brown eyes. I wasn’t sure if I should have given him that

information, yet I’m sitting in his office applying for a job. I have to thank my father for these feelings of insecurity. 

“Well then, little lady. You’re hired. Let’s fill out the paperwork so I can get you on payroll. When can you start?” he stood up and grabbed a pen from his desk drawer and tossed the application on the desk. I stood staring at him not giving him an answer. He glanced over at the clock.

“How about tonight? I could really use the money.” I sounded desperate but I wanted to make some money right away. What else did I have to do tonight anyway? 

“How ‘bout this, Jen? How about if I pay you off the books so I don’t have to put you on payroll and you don’t get taxed and I could pay you every night? You can have all of that clean money to yourself. It’s like you don’t even work here. Just fill out your name and address…you know,

birthdate and stuff,” he said as he walked around his desk and leaned against it in front of me with his arms folded across his chest. 

“Isn’t that illegal?” I said innocently, but sounding God awfully childish. “Legal…shmegal.” He smiled. “Not really, but, I’m the boss. I can afford to pay you say, around, fifteen dollars an hour.

What do you say, kid?” You could see he was getting bored with the conversation. I made my decision quickly and stood up.

“Sure, I mean, yes, thank you.” I was so excited I didn’t know what to do next.

“Well then… welcome aboard little lady! Let me show you around and introduce you. Come along. Can you keep a secret?” he grabbed me gently by the hand.

“Yeah… sure,” I said cautiously as my eyebrows frowned at him. His touch alarmed me. 

“Um…listen…don’t tell anyone that you’re my neighbor. They’ll think I got you the job. You know…favoritism. It’ll make things awkward for you around here. You’re a beautiful, young lady,

Jen, and the guys in here will be hitting on you all of the time, so be careful and ignore them…most of them, anyway,” he whispered in my ear.

“No problem,” I whispered back. He frightened me a little, and my body tensed up when he got so close to my ear. I didn’t want anyone hitting on me, and I definitely didn’t feel I was going to make any friends, especially since everyone in the precinct seemed so unfriendly to begin with.