My heart freezes. I re-read the message. Then I examine the handwriting, realizing for the first time how similar it is to the notes I’ve been getting. I’m confused. Were the notes from Michael all along? Maybe he thought they were a sweet gesture, something romantic. Maybe I misread them the whole time.
But why do it anonymously?
I remember the night in my bedroom. The night I asked Michael to kiss me. He asked about the card I’d gotten. He noticed it upset me.If he realized how much it bothered me, why didn't he just tell me it was from him? Why would he keep sending them, and the texts and the emails, and the phone calls? Angelica said they were from Michael, but I assumed she'd misheard him. She said the calls all appeared to have a bad connection. What if that was on purpose?
I’m not sure what to do, where to go from here. Have I been hiding for nothing? Pushing everyone away for nothing?
A car door slams outside. I jump and move to the window. A tall figure walks toward the front door, a figure I would recognize anywhere. He stops at the little birdhouse on the front porch and grabs the key.
The front door opens.
eighty-one
Better this Way
Jacob
It’s dark and rainy when I land at SeaTac Airport. I mostly maxed out my credit care, but I caught a red-eye at the last minute, thanks to a helpful counter attendant, who has a son in the Army.
Her name is Jessica.
I have a return ticket that will get me back in time for my deployment and a message to my commanding officer explaining why I left.
I’m driving as fast as I can on rain-slicked and mostly empty roads. I rented the fastest car they had, but it’s still too slow. It’s been over seven hours since Michael said he was on his way to Jess–plenty of time for him to get to her. I hope he bought the diversion Jasmine gave him and didn’t go straight to her house. If not…I press the gas down harder.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do when I get there. It’s not like I could bring a weapon on the airplane. Jess’s dad has a full gun safe, but I don’t know the combination. I hope I don’t need a gun. I hope I find Jess alone, and that I can convince her to come back with me. She can stay with my parents until things get sorted out with Stephens or whoever sent the messages and the emails.
I crest the hill that leads to her house, and my hopes for a clean get away are shattered. There’s another car in her driveway, a Lexus. I grab my phone and dial 9-1-1. I learned my lesson last time. This isn’t a situation I want to go into without support.
Jess
I stay still in my bedroom, wishing I hadn’t turned my lamp on. I think about my options, places I could hide until he leaves. He doesn’t know I’m here.
The door between the kitchen and the garage opens and closes. He’s seen my car.
“Jess,” he calls. He starts up the stairs.
I pull on the jeans I was wearing when I came, reach under the bed and get the pistol I took out of Dad’s gun safe. I tuck it into the back of my waistband and pull a sweater out of my closet to cover it. The whole time I’m thinking I’m being paranoid. This is a knee-jerk reaction to the trauma I’m still holding onto from Brad.Michael is my friend. He would never hurt me. The cards were just a way for him to show hestill cares. Maybe he isn’t even the one who sent them. He just came to check on me.
I steady my breathing and try to keep my voice calm. “Michael?”
He moves into my doorway and flips on the lights. “Jess, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I…what are you doing here?”
“Jacob called me. He's worried about you. He said someone emailed a bunch of pictures of you to him. He thinks they’re from your old boyfriend. The one who’s in jail.”
“Brad?”
He moves closer. “Yeah, that’s the one. He said they were pictures that were taken without you knowing it—when you were running, at the yoga studio—that kind of thing.”
My mind races. If he’s telling the truth, if Jacob really sent him, if he really got pictures like that of me…I haven’t been to a yoga studio since before I broke up with Jacob. If there were pictures of me there, it couldn’t have been Brad. At most he's been out of jail for a couple of weeks. I can’t tell if Michael is making it all up, if I’m paranoid or–
He steps forward and puts his hands on my shoulders. “He asked me to take care of you, just like Matthew did. I gave my word as a soldier, and that’s something I take very seriously. You need to let me take care of you.”
“Thank you for coming.” I work to keep my voice steady and then realize maybe I shouldn’t. Michael is here to play hero. If I let him have that role, if I play along, maybe I’ll be okay.
He cups my face in his hands. “It's been so long since I’ve seen you. You look so beautiful. I’ve missed you so much.”
