Saving Her: BWWM Interracial Romance (3 page)

“I did a background check on him, and...”

“How did you get his last name?” I interrupted.

“When you went upstairs, I went to get his personal information for the security team. Just in case.”

Is that why he left?
I wondered.

“Okay. Go on.”

“He was in the military...”

“I know that.”

“And he is an addict.”

“I know that too.”

Edward tilted his head to the side, but he didn't question me.

“If I'm going to help him, I think we need to get him some professional help.”

“I agree, ma’am.”

“And no telling my father about this, okay?”

“Never, ma’am.”

My father would find out about it anyway, but I didn't care. The theft just made me want to help him more. He would let me improve his life. What's the use of being rich if you're not helping as many people as you can? I knew the line about tossing pearls to swine, but I was sure I could help Jack.

“Go tell him he can come back, but I want to pay for him to go into rehab.”

“Miss, I'm not sure...”

As soon as I gave him
the look
, he stopped talking and walked away to obey my orders. With Edward gone, I went back inside. The rest of my day would be busy with charities and other social responsibilities, but knowing Jack would be given another chance allowed me to get him out of my mind for at least a short while.

Later that afternoon, Edward called.

“Well?” I asked after rushing into the hallway to take the call.

“Mission accomplished, ma’am.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am. He accepted your offer and has been delivered to a respectable rehabilitation clinic outside the city.”

“That’s great,” I said, my joy bubbling out in my voice.

“Will there by anything else, ma’am?”

“No, go back to your normal schedule. I’ll check back with you later tonight, okay?”

“Very well, ma’am.”

“Thanks again, Edward. I have to go.”

I disconnected the call. While Jack was in treatment, I could continue with my life. Later that night, I took three pills instead of two. It was dangerous to take an extra one, but two didn’t do the same thing for me anymore. After such a successful day, I wanted to relax and not have to worry about the stress of normal life anymore.

FIVE

Time passed for the rich as it did for everyone else in the world, but I liked to think that the wealth I had made me more able to enjoy every single moment. Three months after he checked into rehab, Jack was about to be released and wanted to come and talk. The news excited me at first, but as the hours added up and his visit approached, I found myself nervous, which was strange.

Finally, the moment arrived. I met him outside because I still wasn't sure if I would invite him in my house. The Town Car pulled up and stopped in the circular drive a few hundred feet away. Jack got out of the back of the car. I almost didn't recognize him. He still had long, black hair, but he had tied it back in a ponytail.
He looks so different!
I thought, intrigued by the man.

When he saw me, he waved with a smile on his face. As he walked over to me, I took a deep breath. I had on jeans and a t-shirt because I didn't want him to get any ideas. He had appeared in my dreams once or twice after he went away. When he reached me, he moved in for a hug, but I stepped back before he made contact. This didn’t appear to bother him at all.

“Okay, then,” he said, laughing. “I just wanted to thank you. I have a real shot of getting my life back on track because of you.”

“Good. I'm glad I could help.” I paused, then added, “You know what? Why don't we go get you some clothes and get you cleaned up? I think that will make it easier for you to get a job.”

“I agree. And thanks. You've done so much already.”

Did he really not complain about getting a job? Maybe he is a different man.

“Not a problem,” I said, waving it away. “Let's take my car.”

After buying him a completely new wardrobe at the nearest mall, we sat in the car.

“Thanks again,” he said. “I mean it.”

“It’s no problem. You just have to be serious about getting a job and getting your life on track.”

“Why are you doing this?” he asked suddenly, surprising me.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you helping me so much?”

“Because I can? I don’t know. Do I need a reason?”

“Not really, but I’ve had a lot of time to think lately, and you keep popping in my thoughts.”

“Yeah?” I said, smiling.

“Yeah.” His voice sounded serious.

“Let’s go get that hair tamed,” I said, changing the subject.

“My hair is fine.”

I laughed again. “No, it’s really not.”

“You don't like it long?” he asked.

I shook my head from side to side. “I see you with short hair.”

“Okay, fine.”

SIX

When the stylist finished, the transformation was amazing. The man who had stumbled up out of the darkness a little over a month earlier was now someone I might consider dating. We drove back to my house with his new clothes and accessories in the back seat.

“Where you taking me now?” he asked.

“Back to the guest house. If you're cleaned up, you can stay there until you can save up money. I know people who can get you a job, especially since you're an ex-Marine.”

“Actually, I had an idea about what I could be doing.”

“Yeah?” I reached into the center console and pulled out a bottle of pills as I drove.

“What's that?” he asked, sounding alarmed.

“These? Just a little help for the pain. I hurt my elbow playing tennis.”

“Could you not take that around me?”

“What?” I laughed. “Are you serious?”

When I turned to glance at him, I saw he was serious. Still, I took out two pills, popped them in my mouth and swallowed them all while driving. After a long drink from my water bottle, I turned back to him. He stared at me with a look I’d seen from my parents before.

“Don’t start lecturing me, okay?”

“I told you how I got hooked on heroin. Don't you remember?”

“Yes, I do, but I will not end up like that. I have an endless supply of money.”

He turned away to look out his window. “No supply of money is endless.”

“You obviously don't know what you're talking about,” I said, shaking my head. “Do you want one? You can take just one, right? I mean, I know you just got out of rehab and all, but these are pills, not heroin.”

“Sure.” His picked up the bottle of pills and shook two into his hand. After he popped them into his mouth, he grabbed my water bottle and took a drink. “Thanks,” he muttered, handing me the bottle.

“Keep it,” I said.

We were both quiet on the drive back to my house. The pills had kicked in by the time we got back to my place. I didn't see how my life could get any better. When we got back, he turned to me.

“I’ll take these into the guesthouse,” he said.

“That’s fine,” I replied, smiling without a care in the world. “I’ll be in the house if you need anything.”

He didn’t answer.
Fucking lightweight can’t take a few pills
, I thought as I went inside to relax and unwind.

SEVEN

The next day, I realized that my bottle of pills was missing. When I barged into the guesthouse, I found Jack sprawled out on the couch in the living room watching porn on the big screen television. Dirty dishes were stacked haphazardly on the very expensive coffee table. Then I noticed he had his hand down the front of his sweat pants.

“Were you in my car?” I asked, trying not to look at his crotch.

“What?” he asked, sitting up and slipping his hand out.

A bulge remained – a big one.

“Were you in my car or not?” I asked, trying not to get distracted.

“Missing something, are you?”

“Give me my pills,” I said, holding out my hand with the palm up.

“They're gone, but I could use a hand like yours,” he slurred.

“You're kidding, right?”

“About the pills or asking you for a handjob?”

“The pills, smartass.”

I spoke slowly, trying to contain my anger.

“Look, lady. I'm glad you tried to help me. I question the hell out of your motives, but I can't be around you. I was really going to try to get straight and you went and gave me some of your pills.”

“That didn't give you the right to go into my car and take my things.”

“Fuck you, Tasha.”

He stood up and walked past, brushing against me. I thought about going after him, but I knew better. He was a force of nature I couldn't contain. At first it pissed me off he had left after everything I’d done for him, but as minutes turned into hours, I began to miss him. While we hadn't spent a lot of time together, he made me feel alive when he was around. He more real than most of the people in my social circles, and I wanted him to come back.

EIGHT

My father showed up at the house the next day. From the look on his face, I could tell he knew about Jack. He only wanted the best for me, but he could be a pain in the ass sometimes. With my depression returning, I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, let alone him. Still, Edward let him into the house because he knew who signed his paychecks.

I met him in the front living room, sitting down on my comfortable leather couch. He sat across from me in a recliner.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I crossed my legs as I sat back.

“Yes, father. I told you that on the phone earlier today.”

“I was in the neighborhood, and I...”

“Whatever. I know you're checking on me.”

“You need to leave that guy alone, okay?”

“I'm trying to help him. How did you even hear about him? I’m going to kill Edward.”

“You’ll do no such thing, young lady,” he said in a tone that let me know he was serious. “It’s good that you’re interested in helping others, but you can’t let them take advantage of you. With your wealth…”

“It’s your wealth, not mine,” I interrupted.

“It’s going to be yours,” he said.

“He served our country, father, and no one is doing anything to help him.”

“I know. Edward checked into him at my request.”

“I wish you wouldn't treat me like this.”

“Like what?”

“You know. Like I'm still a little girl that can't take care of myself.”

“Sometimes you need help, dear.”

“I'm fine,” I insisted.

Without thinking, I opened the drawer of the coffee table and pulled out a pill bottle. After discovering it was empty, I set it on the coffee table.

“You're still taking those?” he asked, sounding surprised.

“My elbow is hurting.”

“Still?” He shook his head. “Take an aspirin. It can't be hurting that bad. I got a call from Dr. Phillip the other day. He said you've gone through three or four thirty-day supplies in the last couple of weeks. You can't abuse that privilege, young lady.”

“Stop treating me like I'm a teenager,” I snapped, suddenly upset.

“Stop acting like one.”

“Here we go,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“You can pout all you want, but don't think I won't change my will.” He stood up. “And no more pills from Dr. Phillip. You understand?”

“I know, I know.” I waved my hands, wishing he would just go away.

As with most of my wishes, this one came true. Once he left, I went upstairs to make some calls.
Someone has to have a pill or two to get me through the day
, I thought to myself.

NINE

I eventually found another source of Oxycontins. They weren't cheap – at all – but I could get twenty or thirty at a time at one of the three public parks in a fifty mile radius of my house. It was a hassle and a half to drive across town, but I made the trip more than once. At first, I could go a few weeks with thirty pills. Soon, I went through that many in ten days. Then in just a week.

One day, while I was in the park trying to hook up, I saw Jack in the park. He was stretching with a middle-aged woman who looked like she needed to lose weight. His hair was still short, and he had his shirt off. He looked like he was doing well. I tried to turn around and head to the other side of the park, but he saw me and jogged over.

Luckily, the woman with him stayed, stretching by herself. I couldn't look away as he made his way toward me. His muscles rippled as he moved. Whatever he had been doing, it was working for him. He stopped and looked me up and down. I forced a smile, not wanting to talk to him.