Page 72 of Dark Notes, Volume Two

I google different places to go. I ruled out Paris because it’s a frequent spot for models. London is out too for the same reasons. Then I search in the United States which seems too close to Jett, but he’ll assume I’m in a large city. Right? I’m pretty sure that’s where he’ll look.

There are a bunch of small towns along the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia that might be the perfect spot. No one will expect the one time supermodel to be in a town of six hundred people. There are far more cows there than human beings and I think it’s perfect. I’ll have to find a job eventually, I don’t have a lot of savings left after being out of work for almost a year. I smile for the first time since I found him with her. If he can’t find me then my step-father, Mark likely won’t either. With that little glimmer of hope, I’m able to fall asleep.

The sun peers through the blinds waking me up and a second later my phone rings. Glancing down I spot not only the name, Jett, but the photo I took of him when we were goofing around. He tickled me until I screamed I was about to pee. I snapped the picture of his huge laughing grin because I loved it and knew it would always make me happy to look at. Except it doesn’t, not now.

I answer reluctantly but don’t give him a chance to speak.

“If you ever cared about me you’ll leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to hear your voice. I just want to move on.”

“Angel,” his voice croaks, “I know what you think but there’s more to it. Please let me explain. Baby, I’m dying without you.”

Tears roll down my cheeks, but I straighten my back and stand firm.

“Nobody ever died because they lost someone. I’m not interested in your explanations, Jett. This is over. You and I are done. Goodbye.”

“Ang-”

I don’t let him finish. Disconnecting the call I tell myself, “It’s over now. Move on.”

It’s hard to walk away but the near constant image of him and Samantha flashing through my mind helps. I gave into Jett, the man that had been asking me out for years. All those times I told him no because I knew the outcome. Me getting hurt was the only reasonable ending. Now that he has, I’m done being stupid. I’m ready to grab my life by its throat and make it my bitch. No more goddamn pain. I’ve had enough.

Part II

If his love were a song, it’d be a dark, haunting melody–painful, toxic and cruel.

10

Chapter Fifty

JETT

Three Months Later…

She thought she could waltz out of my life and I’d just allow it. I don’t fucking think so, Angel. It only took me this long because I had no choice but to hit that goddamn stage night after night. It was a struggle because I wanted to say screw everything other than her but I couldn’t. I’ve let Jagger down time and time again. Besides, I like the element of surprise. By now I bet she thinks I’ve forgotten about her and moved on. There is not a measure of time to allow for that. It could’ve been twenty years and I’d still be here, like I am now, watching her.

Mia wanders through the outdoor fruit market looking more delicious than the peaches she’s holding. She’s wearing jeans and a blue sweatshirt, her blonde hair now dark pinned up, and big sunglasses on her face. This is her strategy to conceal herself from me? It never would’ve worked because I know every inch of her like the back of my hand. I could easily spot her in a lineup of a million women.

She smiles at the lady and pays for her fruit before moving on to a vegetable stand. Even though I have plans for her, I will her to turn around and see me. How would she react? Would she be happy to see me? Or shriek and try to run from me? Either choice would be fine, but it doesn’t matter where she goes or what she does. I’ll always find her. Living without her was temporary. And fucking painful. Living another fifty years like this would be a torture I’m unwilling to endure, especially considering a simple conversation is all that’s required. Mia thinks she knows everything, she doesn’t. If I have to fucking tie her up to get her to listen, I will.

On her way out she stops by a flower stand and I watch her curiously. She picks up a bouquet of three pink roses and inhales their scent. Giggling, she says to the man, “I don’t really need these but they’re my favorite so I can’t resist.”

My blood heats as I realize, I should be the one buying her favorite flowers. Never should she need to buy them for herself. That’s my failure and I’ll be sure to fix that problem quickly.

Keeping a long following distance, I walk behind her until she walks into the house and leaves me outside, alone. Fuck Angel. If you only knew how badly I want to hold you and make you understand how I feel about you.

After ordering ninety-three pink roses, I wait for the delivery man to show up with a wad of cash in my jeans pocket. They said he’d be here within an hour since I paid such a hefty rush delivery fee.

Finally he rolls up in a jeep with no roof as if he doesn’t know how fucking cold Virginia is. A young twenty-something kid gets out with my girl’s flowers in his hand. I approach him, slow but determined.

“How would you like to make one-thousand dollars for this delivery.”

Looking up at me he gasps, “You’re-”

I cut him off, “Nope. It doesn’t matter who the fuck I am. You are going to forget you ever saw me. You’re going to give me the flowers. You’ll knock on the door and yell, ‘delivery’ when she asks who it is. The second she opens it, you’re gone. Got it?”

The delivery kid stares at me with what appears to be shock.

“Got. It?” I growl when he doesn’t respond.