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24
I don’t get much sleep. I stare at the ceiling listening to the silence in the dark before dawn finally tugs me out of bed. I jog alone at 6.00 a.m. the familiar route I normally take with Jake, but he’s still in bed and avoiding him is my only plan of action this morning.
I pound the picturesque streets of Seattle with my soft-soled running shoes and try to bring back all the calm and control that rules my life. We need to forget last night ever happened if we’re to move on. I need to stop over analyzing and obsessing over it and forget it ever happened.He was drunk! Jake’s impulsive and sometimes irrational when he’s drunk; he can be unpredictable and foolish, and I shouldn’t put any weight on last night at all. He’s a born womanizer and last night with beer goggles on I was just another possible conquest who was obviously giving him some sort of come-on signs.I shower and eat in my room and pack my suitcase. We’re hRelated chapters
The Carrero Effect 25
“I’m home,” I yell out into the apartment, dropping my keys on the hall table. There’s soft jazz music coming from Sarah’s room, the distinct smell of Marcus’s aftershave in the sitting room, and a half empty bottle of wine and two glasses on the table. I sigh, bristling inside and ponder showing up at Jake’s apartment for the night as he offered. I should have stopped over, instead of the extra car journey home; we’d be watching a movie by now.There’s no response from the closed bedroom so I assume they don’t want to be disturbed. I don’t attempt to call out again. I just go to my room and dump my luggage by the bed, glad to be home, yet at the same time the familiar pang of missing Jake is already washing over me.We have worked together so much over the last few months, glued side by side, so being apart feels abnormal. Even though we do occasionally spend weekends apart, somehow the recent non-stop chao
The Carrero Effect 26
It’s the middle of the night by the time we land in Chicago, and the hired driver takes me to West Englewood. The streets are badly lit, but don’t conceal the grubbiness or derelict area from view. The streets, although busy with traffic, seem almost deserted. The aura of poverty and hardship reflected in the brown buildings and scruffy stores and I get that old ripple of trepidation as unease moves through me and that weight of emptiness I used to feel at being here returns with a vengeance.I’m to meet Sophie at my old home, the apartment that my mother has lived in since the day she brought me home from the hospital. My mother is stable in St Bernard Hospital, but I won’t be able to see her until morning to assess how much damage has been done.I’m still numb with a tinge of anger even thinking about her. I know this isn’t natural—she’s my mother. I should feel concern, devastation, worry even, but I don’t. I’m
The Carrero Effect 27
In the morning light I tidy up and make breakfast for us both. Scrambled eggs, toast, coffee, and a smile as Sophie wanders through already dressed in jeans and a hoody, with sneakers. Her hair in a boyish ponytail. She’s an early riser like me.She sits awkwardly at the table as though she feels like she should be helping, but I brush it away with a warm beam and put her plate and mug in front of her. I genuinely like the girl; even in such a brief time, there’s something about her. I sit down to face her and let her eat for a few minutes whereas I can only pick at mine. My appetite is gone knowing we’re going to see my mother this morning. Teenage anxiety in full force.“So, Sophie, tell me about you … How did you end up here in Sunnyside?” I keep my tone bright and easy knowing if she’s as guarded a person as me, then she will never open up if I don’t tread carefully. She hesitates.“I ran away from home &helli
The Carrero Effect 28
The hospital is as every other in the state: clinical, white, and blue, sterile halls and rooms, and the strong odor of chemicals with a dingy taint in the air. Sophie is holding my hand as we walk, and she looks so noticeably young and afraid. My gut instinct is to haul her close to my side and place a protective arm about her shoulders and the thought makes me smile. Who knew I was maternal? I do exactly that and meet no resistance from her. Jake and his over-familiar, hands-on way of life has turned me into a touchy-feely just like him but I’m not mad at it.Does he see me this way? Is this why he’s so hands-on?That strong urge to protect me, seeing glimpses of unsure scared Emma under the mask. The thought warms me inside and I miss him so badly it aches in the depth of my stomach.Sophie seems to relax in my embrace as we walk in companionable silence. We may only have just met, but we both sense a deep instant connection with one another I’ve
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“What are you doing here?” I snap coldly, bringing my shorter height up to appear more menacing, attempting to look in control. Ice and hatred in my voice as teen Emma bristles up getting ready to defend me. Every hair stands on end.“I came by to see Jocelyn … To talk to her.” He sounds amused because he thinks I’m intimidated by him, but he keeps his distance. I reach into my bag and feel for my cell; it’s the only thing I have that I can use as a weapon. My body vibrating with nerves. I have nothing else, not even my trusty mace that used to be a constant when I lived here. I think of the baseball bat in my old wardrobe, something I slept with many a night and wonder if I can get inside to get it, to feel safer while in the presence of this monster.Would he follow me? Is he going to hurt me?“What could my mother have to say to you after all this time?” I spit, edging toward the door slowly, but keeping my gaz
The Carrero Effect 30
All my vulnerable woe fleets away into panic as I realize what Jake intends to do. Jake boxes and practices martial arts as a fitness regime and he used to be a scrapper in his teens, always in trouble. I know he’s a fighter, but I’m still beyond terrified. Ray and Jake are equally matched in body size, almost in height and definitely in aggression so there’s no telling what the outcome will be, and I can’t bear it.I run after him screaming his name manically; he’s much faster than I am and he’s already out of the building tearing off in the direction of a lone figure walking in the distance. Jake can run like the wind. I can’t even begin to catch up, throwing my stilettos off and proceeding barefoot, my body shedding adrenaline fast and I get a cramp in my leg so badly I fall. Panic sears through me as I try to get up, they’re too far from me to really see what’s happening but the figures have collided. They’re a jum
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In the apartment we sit drinking coffee, we don’t talk about what happened, instead, I tell him about Sophie and that I want to help her. I can’t tell him why without explaining about my mother’s injuries. I know that if I tell him Ray is the reason she’s in the hospital he will go back out and find him, drag him to the police station or worse and I know it’s pointless. My mother will never point a finger at him. I already know that she won’t even break up with him after what he’s done. She’ll be angry at me for letting Jake beat him.Such is the twisted logic of my mother.“Isn’t that what your mother does?” he asks gently. I watch him carefully, realizing I’m still scanning his face and hands for injuries obsessively. I’ve been doing it since we walked into the apartment and I still can’t rest at seeing no evidence of any, aside some bruised knuckles. He’s indestructible, like a her
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I wake early next morning, completely entangled in Jake’s limbs on my side of the bed, lying on my back. He’s wrapped around me possessively. One arm around my waist, pulling me into his abdomen so that his face is in the nape of my neck, the other behind me. His arm is bent so his fingers are entwined in my hair above. His legs looped through mine and twisted so I’m immobile in every way and I am stiflingly hot because he’s so naturally warm. I try to maneuver out of his grasp, but my efforts only cause him to pull me in tighter, making it near impossible to get out.Who knew Jake was a cuddler in bed? More like a squeezer; suffocates all life out of you.Although part of my brain isn’t surprised because he’s so hands-on and touchy-feely in every part of waking life that I guess being this way in sleep is a given. I lay still, staring at the dark ceiling for a moment listening to the heaviness of his deep breathing. He seems so peaceful
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