Authors: Debi V. Smith
CHAPTER EIGHTY
I pass one of the tickets to Dad as we leave Will Call. He checks the ticket and asks, “Did Jason tell you where the seats are?”
“No.”
“I think we’re behind the bench,” he says, awestruck.
We are, in fact, five rows behind the bench.
He surveys the arena. “I could get used to this.”
“You might have to fight Alana for the ticket.”
“I can take her.” He winks at me.
I chuckle. “She was married to Mike
and
she raised Jason. You really think you can take her?”
“I can try.” He sets his arm on the back of my seat and rests ankle on his knee. “Thanks for asking me to come with you.”
“I’m glad you did. I don’t think we’ve ever done anything, just the two of us.”
“We haven’t. I never wanted you to feel uncomfortable around me.”
I shift in my seat. “That could never happen. You’re nothing like Simon and I know I have nothing to fear when I’m with you, because you saved me.”
He draws his arm around me tighter and kisses my head. “I guess we have some father-daughter bonding to make up for, then.”
“Absolutely. I’ll arrange a cage match between you and Alana so you can try to win the tickets from her.” I snicker and he joins in my laughter.
The teams enter the arena through their respective tunnels for warm ups. Jason glances in our direction and smiles as our eyes connect.
We cheer for the Bruins throughout the game, and Jason rides the bench until the last five minutes of play.
We wait for him out front after the game and he brings the team with him, all freshly showered with damp hair.
“Wow, I think this is the cleanest I’ve seen all of you,” I quip.
“Sara, are you going to introduce us?” Peter asks, gesturing to Dad with his chin as he adjusts the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder.
“Guys, this is my dad, Andrew Jericho. Dad,” I point to each of the guys and list off their names.
“You raised a great daughter.” Tommy smiles.
“I wish I could take the credit guys,” Dad says. “But Sara came to us the way she is. We just kept her safe.”
The guys wear befuddled expressions on their faces.
“The Dad and Mom adopted me over a year ago.”
A muttering of “oh” and head nods runs through the group.
“So that’s why J calls you Parker,” Chad says, making the connection.
“And who says athletes aren’t smart?” I jest.
“The guys want to go out for pizza,” Jason tells us and then looks at Dad. “Would it be okay if Sara stays tonight and I’ll bring her back tomorrow?”
“Ask her, not me,” Dad says.
Jason’s eyes flicker to me.
“I didn’t bring anything.”
“We can run to the store for whatever you need and you can borrow one of my shirts.”
I turn to Dad. “Are you okay driving back by yourself?”
“Sure, sweetheart.” He gives me a tight hug. “Have a good time.”
“Thanks, Dad. Drive safe and let Mom and Arissa know we’ll be back in time for the appointment.”
“Sure thing.” He hugs Jason. “Thank you. I really enjoyed myself.”
“You’re welcome, Andrew. Anytime my mom doesn’t want to or can’t come up, you’re welcome to it.”
“Watch out. He’s willing to take on your mom for the ticket,” I warn.
He laughs heartily. “I would pay to see that.”
Dad grins. “It could happen. Okay. See you tomorrow.” Dad raises his hand up. “Guys, it was great meeting you. I hope to see you again.”
“Bye, Mr. Jericho!” they call out.
“Let’s get some food!” Swensen yells, brushing his light brown mop out of his face.
Kiernan regales me with a tale of his womanizing ways once we return to the dorm. His sun-bleached blond hair sticks up everywhere and his gray-green eyes dazzle with his smile. I figured out the dazzling eye-smile combination is how he draws people in to his storytelling.
“So her parents were in town for a week and she wanted it more while they were here. Of course, I was only too happy to oblige.”
“Of course,” I mirror, unsure where he’s going with this story.
“By the end of the week, I was shooting blanks!”
My eyes widen in shock. “I think I could’ve lived the rest of my life without knowing that, Kiernan. Wait. Now I have something to use against you.”
He throws his head back for a deep belly laugh.
“Hey! Whass goin’ on here guysss?” slurs a short male student, standing in the doorway. His Bruins hat is on backwards, his blue t-shirt is over-sized, and the crotch of his black shorts falls even with his knees. He holds a beer bottle in front of his chest.
“’Sup, Jordan,” Troy says, holding out his fist.
Jordan bumps Troy’s fist, almost missing it. “Who’sss the cutie?” He makes a bad attempt to whisper to Troy.
“Sara. She’s Jason’s fiancée.”
“Hi, Sara,” he says, his blue eyes gleam as he approaches me in a drunken swagger.
“Hi, Jordan.” I eye him warily.
“Whass up?”
“Just talking to Kiernan.”
“How about you and me talk somewhere else?”
“I’m staying here with my friends.”
“I could be your friend,” he says, leaning over and running his hand over my knee.
I throw my water in his face and jump up as he stumbles back, wiping his eyes.
“Don’t touch me!” Heat spikes through me and pools in my cheeks.
“Ooh. Feisty. I like feisty,” he says, sauntering back to me.
His face distorts into Simon’s in a split second.
No! Not again!
My right hand balls into a fist and swings in a hook, connecting with his left eye.
“Fuck!” Tommy shouts, jumping between me and Jordan as Troy grabs the back of Jordan’s shirt and hauls him back.
“Fucking cunt!” Jordan yells.
“I told you not to touch me!” I holler.
Troy shoves Jordan out the door, telling him, “She warned you, man. And I told you she’s J’s girl.”
“She’s a skank ho is what she is!” Jordan yells.
Swensen and Garth help Troy usher him away.
An uncontrollable shaking takes over my body and I let out a scream. Tommy turns around and folds me up in his arms. I scream again into his chest.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, stroking my hair.
The trembling subsides in a few minutes and my body goes limp. Tommy guides me to the the sofa and sits next to me with his arm on the back. Deshawn sits on the other side and holds out a new cup of water.
I use both hands and take a sip. The chaos inside quells and I take deeper breaths. “Thank you,” I say, my voice raspy and raw from the scream.
“No problem,” Deshawn says, squeezing my arm.
“No really. That—that—“ I stutter, taking another deep breath. “That’s never happened before.”
Jason bolts through the door and throws his arms around me. “Shit. I’m so sorry, Parker. I should have been here. Are you okay?” He brushes my hair back and holds it behind my head in his fingers.
“Jordan is the one that got hurt,” Deshawn chuckles. “Sara’s got a wicked right hook.”
“You guys don’t understand.” He cups my chin in his hand, forcing me to make eye contact with him.
“I saw him, J. I saw Simon.” Tears push their way up.
“No, Parker,” he says, his tone reassuring as he caresses my face. “He’s in prison, remember?”
I nod and take another deep breath. “I can’t believe I did that.” I drop my face on Jason’s shoulder.
“He had it coming,” Kiernan declares.
“I’m just sorry I wasn’t here,” Jason says.
“You can’t protect me twenty-four seven, J. And you can’t protect me from the past. One second Jordan is coming at me and the next Simon is. You can’t protect me from that.”
Swensen, Troy, and Garth return.
“You okay, Sara?” Troy asks.
“I will be. Thanks, guys.”
“Ditto,” Jason says. “Thanks for looking out for her.”
“We always have your back on and off the court, J. That includes Sara,” Derek states.
I look at Jason. “Have you told them?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not my story to tell, Parker.”
“Tell us what?” Peter asks.
“The Jerichos adopted me because my father abused me and my mother let it happen.” I summarize my experience with my family of origin without giving much detail or mentioning Simon raping me.
“You are my new hero,” Kiernan says.
“I’m no hero.”
“Do you know how many college girls would have let one of
us
deck Jordan instead of doing it themselves?” Chad asks.
“How many?”
“All the ones I know,” he answers.
“Same here,” Tommy says.
“Word,” Deshawn adds, raising his cup.
I rub my knuckles and wince.
“Let me see,” Jason says, inspecting my hand. My knuckles are red and swelling. “Is there any ice left in the cooler?” he asks.
Garth lifts the lid to check. “Yeah, man.”
Jason disappears into his room and returns with one of his t-shirts. He piles a few handfuls of ice in the middle of the shirt and wraps it up like a Chinese dumpling, placing the ice pack on my hand when he’s done.
We go to bed once everyone leaves. I’m nestled into him like a spoon.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be here for parties,” he suggests.
“I can’t hide from it, J. I decided to break out from being boxed in by my past and move up here with you. What’s the use of trying to get out of those old shadows if I hide from them?”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
I turn over in the limited space on the twin bed. “You were helping friends. You have no reason to be sorry.”
“I know I can’t protect you all the time, but it doesn’t stop me from
wanting
to. You are my life and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He tightens his hold and rolls me on my back, with his weight on his forearm and his opposite leg covering mine. I bring his head to mine and the tension from earlier releases as my mouth meets his.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE
I wake the next morning with my arm draped over Jason and my head on his chest. His arm presses me close to him. My body is heavy and I’m more tired than last night. I start to sit up and he tugs me back.
He tilts his head to me. “How do you feel?”’
“Drained.”
He wraps his other arm around me and kisses my forehead. “Maybe a shower, breakfast, and nap in the car will help.”
“Wouldn’t hurt.”
I fall asleep with a belly full of blueberry pancakes and bacon as Jason merges onto the freeway and wake up as we pass Batiquitos Lagoon, a couple of exits from home.
Jason takes my hand and kisses it. “Feel better?”
“Better,” I reply, stretching out. “Are you going to stay for the dress shopping?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” He grins.
I stand in front of the mirrors in a strapless white chiffon tea length dress. Several layers of chiffon gather and wrap around the bust and torso, then drops at the waist.
“I like it, but I don’t love it,” I say, exhaustion creeping back in. I just want to crawl into bed and sleep. Forget wedding dresses.
“Try the next one,” Jason prompts, taking pictures.
I huff out a breath and Arissa follows me into the dressing room. She helps me out of the dress and into the next one. It’s another tea length dress in eggshell lace and organza with a V-neckline and draped cap sleeves. A black silk sash circles the waist and the skirt flows out in an A-line.
I glance at her. “What do you think?”
“Have I given you an opinion on any gown?”
“No, and it’s driving me nuts.”
“It’s
your
dress and
your
day, not mine.
You
have to decide.”
Subdued Arissa is weird. It’s not like her at all. I’m not used to her lack of opinions and energetic behavior.
“Come on, Riss. Just one little comment,” I beg.
“No,” she says, pushing me through the curtain and towards the mirrors while I flip her the bird.
I suck in a breath at my reflection. I turn side to side to check out the dress in the mirror then look over at the sofa. Mom, Arissa, and Hunter beam. My eyes shift to Jason.
He snaps a shot, then gazes at me. “It’s you, Parker.”
“I love it.”
He steps in, presses his hand into the small of my back, and slips his free hand into mine. He guides me around the large stand to the tempo of the Jason Mraz song playing over the shop’s sound system. “Yes, this is the one.” The left corner of his mouth curls up.
Arissa helps me out of the dress and places it back on the hanger with care as I get dressed.
“They’re too quiet out there,” I state, pulling on my jeans.
I finish dressing then she opens the curtain. Mom and Jason aren’t there. Hunter hooks his thumb to the front of the shop.
“What the—“ I spot them at the counter with the owner of the shop.
“Uh oh,” Arissa says, peeking over my shoulder. “I think they’re both trying to put a deposit on the dress.”
“You’ve got that right,” Hunter says.
“Oh, crap.” I rush to the counter.
“Please, Rose?” Jason pleads.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Your mom won’t let me pay for your dress,” he answers, handing me my purse.
“Your fiancé won’t let
me
pay for your dress.”
I sigh and put on my referee hat. “We have furniture to buy for the apartment and we’re paying for the photographer, florist, and cake,” I say to Jason. “Plus you have your own clothes for the wedding to take care of. Do you want to add my dress to the list?”
“I
really
hate when you’re right.”
Mom, Arissa, and Hunter snicker.
“Get used to it, Jason,” Mom says. “She’s going to be right a lot more than you are. Just ask Andrew.”
Jason steps away, gesturing at the counter with both arms. “All yours, Rose.”
I take his hands into mine. “You can buy me a different dress another time.”
“I will hold you to that.” He releases my hands, hooks his index fingers into my belt loops, and yanks me to him. “I need to get back and finish my homework.” His lips meet mine for a slow, sweet kiss.
“Enough with the tonsil hockey!” Arissa wisecracks.
We break apart and I flip her off again. She returns the gesture.
“Mom, I’m riding home with you two. Jason’s heading back to school.”
“Drive safe, Jason,” she says as she signs the receipt, smiling.
“Thanks, Rose.” He swoops in to plant a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll talk to you on Skype later?”
“Yeah. Let me know when you get in up there.”
“I will,” he says, “I love you, Parker.”
“Love you too, J.”
Hunter drapes his arm over my shoulders and I watch Jason through the window. He’s accosted by Nicole and Becky at his car. I exhale heavily, tired of them. “Mom, I’ll be outside.” I leave without waiting for a response from her.
“I’m coming with you!” Hunter calls after me. He’s out the door before I can stop him. “Shit,” he says, halting in his tracks next to me.
“Call the police.”
“Are you sure?” He fishes his phone out of his pocket.
“Look at them,” I answer.
Jason is pinned to his car by Becky. He looks around like he’s trying to figure out how climb on top of the car to get away. Nicole stands to the side with one hand on the trunk and the other on her hip. He’s being a lot nicer than Hunter was with Nicole all over him.
“A bridal shop, Jason?” Becky asks as I join them. “Are you the groom or the best man?”
“He’s the groom,” I answer. “Now get off of him.”
“A three-way wedding?” Nicole asks.
“That would really ruin your day, wouldn’t it? If you must know, no. If you
ever
paid attention, Hunter and I are
just friends
. A concept you’ve never been able to understand.”
Hunter slides his phone back in his pocket. “Police are coming.”
I grin as Mom and Arissa come through the doors.
“What the hell is going on?” Mom asks.
“Now there are four witnesses,” I say to Becky. “Step off.”
She opens her mouth when a sheriff’s car pulls to a stop next to us. Perfect. They must’ve been nearby. Two uniformed male deputies climb out of the car and Becky finally steps away from Jason.
“We got a disturbing the peace call,” the driver says, hand on the grip of his gun.
I turn to Hunter and whisper, “Seriously? Disturbing the peace?”
“I didn’t know what else to call it,” he whispers in return, shrugging.
Mom points to Jason and Hunter. “Their ex-girlfriends keep harassing them.”
The deputies turn their attention to Becky and Nicole. “Step over here please, ladies.” Passenger Deputy gestures for the sisters to join them.
The sisters glance at each other and stroll over to the deputies without a word, who then take them aside to talk to them. We watch in silence. Driver Deputy leaves and joins the rest of us, interviewing each of us alone while Passenger Deputy keeps an eye on Becky and Nicole.
“How well do you know them?” he asks when it’s my turn.
“Becky bullied me in high school after Jason broke up with her. Nicole and her friends bullied me when I transferred to her school while I was in foster care. Becky stopped after she was suspended at the beginning of our senior year and started up again this summer. Nicole attacked me in the cafeteria the day I met her.
“I found out after leaving foster care that my social worker is their older half-brother. He was fired after my adoptive father filed a complaint, once I figured out he gave them information about me they shouldn’t have had.” I nod. “Yeah, that pretty much sums up how well I know them.”
“I see. And they’ve been harassing Jason and Hunter?”
“All of us.”
“Since high school.”
“Yes. The last time was while Jason and I were on a double date with my sister and her boyfriend. Before that, it was while bowling. They come out of nowhere.”
“Jason and Hunter have agreed to file domestic violence charges. Do you want to file civil harassment charges?”
“If it gets them off our back once and for all, yes.” It’s a no-brainer as far as I’m concerned.
He writes something down on his little notepad. “Thank you, Sara. Can you ask your mom to join me, please?” I rejoin my family and Mom takes her turn with Driver Deputy.
Arissa has her phone out, typing with both thumbs. I presume she’s texting Damian about the ordeal until I catch sight of an open app. Puzzle pieces click into place to finish the big picture. Again.
“Riss, have you been doing check-ins on that app when we go out?”
She looks up at me. “Yeah.”
“And you add my name and the guys when you do?”
“Yeah.”
I smack her arm. “That’s how they’ve been finding us!” It’s not random coincidence or special sonar. They watched Arissa’s social media to figure out where I would be with Jason and Hunter. “Do you realize that it could’ve been Victoria doing this at Tibby’s bidding?” I ask, angry, not really at her, but at her carelessness.
She’s the social butterfly, used to using social media to broadcast her life. I lived in isolation, so the thought of social media doesn’t appeal to me. It would also be an easy way for my biological family to keep tabs on me. Go figure that the Statton sisters used it the same way, but went through Arissa to do so.
“Shit! I’m sorry, sis!” She dumps the phone in her purse.
“You mean you’re the reason Nicole knows where I am?” Hunter asks, eyes narrowing at Arissa.
She puts her hands up, palms out. “I—I—I’m really sorry, Hunter.”
“I’ve taken a lot of shit from you since we met, and I did it because Sara’s my friend and you’re her sister.”
Arissa bites her lower lip and Jason takes hold of Hunter’s arm. “Let it go, man.” Despite his words, he glares at her. “From now on, you leave all of us out of your check-ins and statuses.”
She nods, slumping her shoulders and then turns away until Mom joins us.
Arissa explains to Driver Deputy how the sisters have been finding us. He takes note of this and tells us we can leave. Mom gives Arissa the same look she gave us when she stepped out of the bridal shop. Arissa hangs her head and heads for the car.
“I thought she was smarter than that,” Mom says, letting Arissa go alone.
“None of us thought about it, Mom.”
At least we have an end to the Statton sisters wreaking havoc in our lives. Even if it means going to court yet again, but I’ve done that before.