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Authors: R.J. Lewis

Ignite (41 page)

BOOK: Ignite
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Twenty Two

I don’t know how long I was kneeling over the toilet. Nothing had come up, but my stomach was still twisting in nausea.

              Images of that night, of my near rape and the fear I’d felt were fresh as ever.

             
After a few minutes, I managed to steady my breathing and sat down on the toilet seat. I wasn’t sure how to take any of this. I was too stunned to process the obvious fact that Brett had met his demise, and most likely in Damien’s hands. But it would have been Jaxon that made the order.

             
I rubbed my eyes, smelling the sweat from my palms against my face. I tore off some toilet paper and vainly attempted to wipe the wet sweat from my skin. Then I pulled out my cell phone to send Lexi a text when I saw an unread text from a number I didn’t recognize.

             
Hi Sara, this is Rita. I was good friends with your mother. Father Mark said you might be interested in talking to me.  I will be out of town for the next two weeks, but if you’re still around after, I’d be more than happy to meet you and discuss whatever you wanted to know about Joanne. Call me anytime and we can arrange a date.

             
My heart thudded. I didn’t actually think she would contact me. In fact, I hadn’t even made up my mind on whether I wanted to talk to her either. A flame of jealousy reared its ugly head when I thought of how close she had been to my mother.

             
Not contacting her back and moving on would be the easiest action. However, I didn’t want to run away from this either. I reminded myself I had questions I wanted answers to.

             
I read the message over and over again when two pairs of heels clicked into the woman’s restroom. Two girls were laughing hysterically, not a care in the world that they were in this kind of place – a place where men with questionable motives and dirty hands reclined.

             
“Molly is such a slut,” one of them said. “I don’t know what she gets out of dancing on top of counters like that with her cunt flashed to the world.”

             
“She’s an attention seeker,” said the second girl that had a voice I thought I recognized.

             
“Well, she’s gotten all the attention she could get. Still wasn’t half as much as that chick Jaxon came strolling in with.”

             
I looked up from the phone and at the crease of the door where I could make out the two girls standing in front of the sinks doing their make up in front of the mirrors.

             
“I wonder how long he’ll fuck her before he tosses her aside,” she continued. “Wasn’t like him to go all ape shit with all the other guys. Why are you all quiet, Jade?”

             
I looked over at the second girl, dressed in a red mini-dress that matched her red flaming hair. My chest went tight. Jade?

             
“That was Sara,” Jade said, leaning into the mirror. “They used to be together. Seems like they’re back on or something.”

             
The first girl snorted. “What the fuck ever! You and I both know he can’t keep it in his pants. Poor girl’s going to get a rude awakening, especially when I see him tonight. She’ll watch him melt into me like he always does.” I narrowed my eyes at her.

             
“He doesn’t come back for seconds, Nicole,” Jade replied. “Except for Christy, but even that lasted, like, ten days. That had to be his record.”

             
“He’s fucked every girl in the bar. He’s out of options. He’ll come back.”

             
“Doubt it. Time to move onto someone else. Sara’s good for him.” Jade, defending me? Huh.

             
“But he was the best fuck of my life. You gotta give him that much credit, right?”

             
Jade laughed. “He was good. I’ll give him that.”

             
“And that girl isn’t half as pretty as me. She’s walking around in, like, hobo jeans and that ugly ass top. Come on. It’s a no brainer. She’ll be out before the night ends.”

             
The Sara I’d turned into the last few years would have shrunk into the back of the toilet stall, let them have their dirty say regarding things they had no business about. She would have been passive, allowed the hate to be aimed at her, allowed the words to sting her, and she would have shut her mouth and accepted it. She’d have let them continue to demean her and make fun of her, and she would have waited until they left the restroom before she got out. Then she’d have felt sorry for herself, pitied her existence and hated how weak she was.

             
That was the me that batted nobody an eye so that all attention was centred somewhere else. Attention was a temptation that might have brought back old feelings of the negative sides of me. The sides of me that got irrationally angry and violent. I wanted to be the old me minus those negative sides. I suddenly realized there was nothing stopping me.

             
I stood up and opened the unlocked stall door. The noise of the rusted metal scraping against itself stopped their conversation. When the door opened, both of their heads were already turned to me. I looked at the blonde bitch who was supposedly prettier than me. Loaded with caked up make-up and hairspray, I concluded that she most definitely was not.

             
Then I turned my gaze to Jade. Yep, looking at the splash of freckles and the roundness of her face, this was indeed Jade Smith, my grade school bully. She’d left me alone after Jaxon had turned his sights on her and given her the same treatment she’d placed on me. After that year of bullying he stopped, and she never spoke to me again. We attended different high schools and only occasionally bumped into the same social circles growing up, but we never said a word to each other.

             
She looked more shocked than her friend, with her big brown eyes practically leaping out of her face. I thought she was frightened the way her lips quivered and opened as if to say something – what, an apology perhaps? – before shutting them again.

             
“I wonder what you could possibly try to achieve by talking about shit you have no idea about,” I started, staring at them both in equal measures. I kept my voice calm and still, but resolute enough to cause them to stiffen in the unpredictability of the situation. “Does it make you feel better? Does it make you feel happy that you spout bullshit – as if to compensate for your own fucking insecurity? Like fucking children standing there, mouthing me off like you know anything about me, or about him. So you fucked him once and he doesn’t want you anymore – now you have to turn your sights on me and degrade my character that you know pathetically nothing about? You fucking make me sick.” I stared long and hard at the blonde now, turning my complete attention to her. “Get some dignity. Wash your fucking face and start dressing your fucking age.”

             
Anger clouded her face, drowning out its former surprise.

             
“Did I say something to upset you?” I challenged with a raise of my brows. I hardened my voice. “If so, open your fucking mouth and say it to my face.” I waited with bated breath for her to speak. She wouldn’t.

             
“Grow the fuck up,” was my last line before I turned away and stormed out of there.

             
My adrenaline was high and my legs were charged with energy. I hurried back to the door where Damien was still standing. I didn’t look at him as I sat back down on the chair and brought both hands together. I was angry, but not at one particular thing. I drowned out my thoughts by closing my eyes and counting from one to a hundred. I remember my therapist once telling me that distraction was key to reigning down the intensity of my anger. My mind was trying hard to stew over every fucking thought that wanted to be analysed – and I knew it would make my anger worse, so I counted away, squelching that need that stuck out like a fork in a road in the back of my mind.

             
I don’t know how long I sat there, eyes closed, counting away. All I know is I’d counted to a hundred half a dozen times when a hand rested on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked up at Jaxon’s concerned face. My internal-self screamed at him because he was the reason I was like this, but my outer-self smiled warmly up at him.

             
“Are you alright?” he asked, his hand out to me.

             
No. “No,” I answered, surprised by my admittance.

             
He didn’t look surprised. “You want to get out of here?”

             
“Yes.”

             
I grabbed his hand and let him steer me out of the bar. Feeling the warmth of his skin against my own helped enormously. My heart was still battering against my chest, but the anger was on standby. The counting had done wonders, thank fuck.

             
Once outside of the bar and into the fresh, moist air, he walked me to the car and stopped. We were alone in the parking lot, but you could hear the noises from the bar littering the air around us.

             
“What’s the matter?” he asked me.

             
I let go of his hand and rested my back against the wet passenger door of his car. Then I crossed my arms and took a long moment to decide my words while staring up at the firmament blackness overhead. I don’t know why I always thought of lanterns when I gazed at the stars. It was suddenly so silly to be angry; I’m just a human, and up there is a chasm of worlds being born. How silly to think I was significant at all… A pretty pessimistic thought process, I know, but just that thought alone extinguished that anger on standby. The world was too great to be angry right this moment. But I could still feel disappointed.

             
“I think you know what’s wrong,” I finally whispered, keeping my voice levelled.

             
“Bringing you here was a mistake.” Exasperated, he ran a hand through his hair. “I never should have brought you here to see all this.”

             
“But that’s who you are now, isn’t it?” I replied, motioning to the bar. “It’s fucking ominous as hell for me, Jaxon. You go in there and you speak behind closed doors, and then you get out and you obey his commands, and then you fuck every pussy that walks within a metre of you.”

             
He winced at my last few words. “It’s not entirely like that--”

             
“That man is dead, isn’t he? The one that attacked me at the motel. The one who is clearly in the Black-Backed Jackal gang because his brother – donning that fucking leather jacket – walked in asking for it–”

             
“His brother is in the gang, but Brett wasn’t.”

             
“But now you’ve crossed them, haven’t you?”

             
He looked around us quickly. His cautious eyes wandered over every inch of the parking lot. “Stop talking about this out here in the open.”

             
“Is he dead?” I already knew the answer, I just wanted him to say it.

             
He pressed his lips together and glared at me. “Don’t ask questions you don’t like the answers to–”

             
“You’re just going to keep closing the lid on it, aren’t you?” I exhaled in irritation. “What’s so hard about answering it?”

             
“Because I’m answering
you
, and I value you so goddamn much, Sara.”

             
What the fuck ever. I shook my head, welcoming the exhaustion in my chest. Talking about the demise of that man was pointless. Jaxon wasn’t going to say the answer out loud.

             
“Fine,” I breathed, equally glaring back. “You can keep that answer to yourself, but you
will
tell me what you’re up to with that man.”

             
“Strictly business, Sara.”

             
“Is it drugs?”

             
Angrily, he retorted, “No, and I’m not talking about it out here of all fucking places.” His impatience shone while he continued to look around us.

             
“Then take me home and discuss it with me there.” There was no way I was going to drop this. I needed to know what the fuck he was involved in because if it included the Jackals, then it wasn’t pretty.

             
“I can’t right now,” he replied, reaching to grab my hand again. “I’ve got to stay back. I came here to tell you that Damien’s going to give you a lift to my apartment–”

             
I ripped my hand from his grip again. “Are you serious right now? Why do you want me gone?”

             
“It’s clear you aren’t going to have any good time in
there
with all those
men
.”

BOOK: Ignite
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