Unfinished | Teen Ink

Unfinished

July 30, 2013
By Xandy_Day PLATINUM, Lexington, Kentucky
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Xandy_Day PLATINUM, Lexington, Kentucky
27 articles 2 photos 11 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I'm living in a world of goldfish."


Rotum is a small, quiet town that never sees much action. Not. Murderers, terrorists, and pedophiles just march through here all the time. But there’s one murderer in particular that I will never forget-David James Jones. He showed up one summer’s day when I was 13 years old. I remember that day vividly. It was June 21st, 2009, and a very hot June day it was. The weatherman said it was 91 degrees but I swear it was 101 in the direct sunlight. I was hanging out in my secret place, “Leaky Point”. We call it that because there’s a small stream that trickles off the main creek there.

Anyway, I was wading through the deep part of the creek when I heard the running feet crash through the underbrush. A moment later, a bleeding man stumbled out of bushes and fell facedown in the water from exhaustion. My instincts kicked in and I acted quickly. First I pulled him out of the water and made sure he was breathing. Unfortunately I had to do mouth to mouth resuscitation. Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad… Next I located the wound and cleaned it with a first aid kit I had retrieved from my backpack that was lying upstream. The last things to do were remove the bullet and stitch the hole up. I assumed he had a run-in with the law, so I knew I was doing the right thing by saving him. To me, he was innocent. He could not have murdered his three children and wife. Slowly he began to come to. I reached into my pocket and flipped on a small recorder, which can record up to 24 hours of straight audio, because I wanted to be able to honestly explain things later on.

“Wazzagoinon?” Mr. Jones squinted against the harsh light and tried to sit up. I shushed him and smiled. The infamous David James Jones was in my secret place. I couldn’t help but to be thrilled.

“Mr. Jones, where were you when you were shot?” I got over my thrill when the panic set in. How far away were the cops?

“Uhh…. I think Salt Lick?” he rubbed his eyes and sounded completely confused. I sighed with relief and helped him sit up. He mumbled a thanks and looked around.
“Sir, you are in Rotum.” My phone buzzed and I texted Alex back. She and Chad were to come to Leaky Point and help me help him.
“Who did you text?” His tone changed drastically, making him turn into a murderer before my very eyes.
“Just my friend, Alexandria. Don’t worry. She won’t try anything, and if she does, you’re strong enough to take both of us.” I stated calmly while eyeballing his massive forearms. To show I was serious, I handed him my gun and cell phone. He hid behind a boulder while I sat down to wait on the twins. A couple minutes later she showed up alone and I motioned for her to come sit with me.
“Where’s Chad?” I demanded quietly. She shrugged and whispered back.
“Uh… You said for him not to come.” She whispered timidly. I slapped my forehead and looked toward the boulder.
“What’s wrong?” She asked with a little bit of fear in her voice.
“If we get killed, I give you permission to kill me twice over.” I said with my hand over my eyes.
“What did you do?” Alex demanded.
“Me? Nothing. Him? Nothing… yet.” She looked toward the boulder in time to see Mr. Jones step out with MY gun trained at us! My blood began to boil as he walked toward us. And typical Alex over there asks if he is who she thinks he is. She doesn’t ask if he’s going to kill us or how he got my gun. I sighed as he walked between us and pointed the pistol at me.
“One wrong move and I shoot her.” He told Alex forcefully.
“Sir, what’s wrong? Why are you acting like this?” I asked him without any fear in my voice.
“You called the police.” He was tying Alex while talking to me.
“No, I really didn’t. Not on you, anyway.” I mumbled the last part as he turned toward me with rope he had found. Alex began struggling, but the ropes refused to budge. Mr. Jones turned around and pointed the gun at her. She stopped moving, her eyes revealing the panic and terror within. I sat there and let him tie me up, but I absolutely refused to be gagged. I let him know that Alex’s gag was to be removed also. He removed hers too and sat on a small boulder a good 40 feet away.
“To answer your question from earlier, yes, that is David James Jones. Man, I am so stupid.” I laid my head against the boulder behind me.
“What happened?” She asked me.
“I gave him my gun and cell phone so he would know I wasn’t going to try anything. But I forgot I called the cops earlier when that cottonmouth got Dad. Mr. Jones knows how to work a phone and mine doesn’t show what time the calls were placed.” I groaned and Alex laid her head on my shoulder.
“I thought he was innocent, so why is he acting like this?” Alex asked the magic question and something in my head clicked.
“He’s having a breakdown. When I looked him up online, I found his doctor. One call pretending to be a FBI agent, and I found out he suffers from severe nervous breakdowns. The number itself could have triggered it, or even the gun fight he had a little bit ago…. I just need to get in his head to reason with him” She knew the plan. We used it plenty of times on the boys. It usually worked but there was a lot more on the line this time. Alex started gasping and breathing hard. Mr. Jones snapped out of his trance and ran over. (While researching him, I found out his son had extremely bad asthma, which Alex also has.)
“Where’s her inhaler? She needs it NOW!” He checked her eyes while asking me.
“There’s one in my backpack.” She really had triggered an attack but there was an inhaler in her pocket and mine. We can’t afford to lose her so we all keep inhalers on us. I worked the one out of my pocket and scooted over to her. She leaned over and I stuck the end in her mouth. Automatically, she began to quiet down. A moment there was a soft thud as Mr. Jones hit the ground. A purple cloud of chloroform began to break up.
“I love how my backpack sprays people. Hey can you reach my knife?” I leaned a little closer and she nodded. She grabbed the handle of my hunting knife and pulled. Quickly she sliced through my bonds and I took the knife.
“Thanks. Now, let’s get him back to normal.” We were only guaranteed about ten minutes of him being asleep and we already had used two or three minutes, so I worked even quicker as I sliced hers. I grinned and stood back up. She grabbed my hand and I pulled her up. We walked over to Mr. Jones, hoisted him up, and handcuffed him in a standing position, each hand to a different tree. I stuck my smelling salts under his nose and slapped his cheek lightly. He began to stir and opened his hazel eyes. They were out of focus, but they began to focus as he blinked a few times.
“How did I get up here? Is your friend okay? Oh, my head.” He blinked a couple more times, and looked at his hands and the cuffs.
“Yes, she’s fine. Mr. Jones, are you calm now? I promise I did not call the police on you.” I said and he looked extremely ashamed of himself.
“Yes, and I am very, very sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” He looked into my eyes and let his eyes drop back down to the ground.
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m pretty sure it was a nervous breakdown brought on by your little gunfight and aided by the number in my recently dialed list. Your doctor sucks at the whole patient-doctor confidentiality thing.” I smiled to show there was no harm done, and Alex butted in.
“H-h-hello, Mr. J-J-Jones, I’m Al-l-l-lex.” She stuttered as she began rubbing the back of her neck with one hand and held out the trembling other.
“Hello, Miss Alex. I’m terribly sorry about my behavior earlier. As I just told your friend here, I honestly don’t know what came over me,” He grinned a wonderful grin and turned toward me. “If you could let me out of timeout, I promise to be on my best behavior.” I hastened to unlock the handcuffs. He stood straight and rubbed his slightly red wrists.
“So, who do I need to thank for being alive?” He gave another big, beautiful smile.
“That would be me. My name is Taylor Petterson, sir. It is a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance.” He shook my outstretched hand with a confused look on his face.
“You wouldn’t happen to be the daughter of Trooper Brandon Petterson, would you?” He asked after he let go of my hand. I laughed. He had to be psychic.
“The very same, sir.” I smiled as I opened my jacket. Pinned on the inside was my dad’s badge that he gave me that very morning.
“You mentioned needing an ambulance for him. What happened?” He was watching a doe drink from the other side of the creek.
“Someone put a cottonmouth in his car, but the hospital said…” I stopped in mid-sentence. The twang of a bow rang out and the deer ran away. The arrow hit the tree behind Mr. Jones, barely scratching his face. There was only one archer in the world that could purposely accomplish that feat, and it was not Robin Hood. My friend Jason dropped from a tree limb and landed in the stream.
“Jason, what are you doing here? How long have you been here?” These questions just popped out of mine and Alex’s mouth. Mr. Jones’ face turned stony.
“I have been in that tree since dawn so I saw everything. I knew you all could handle it but if his finger had so much as twitched while on that trigger… well, I couldn’t have stopped myself nor would I have stopped myself from shooting him straight through the heart.” I didn’t doubt him for a second. All of us were like family; we really cared for each other.
“Anyway, your father is the reason why I got the death penalty. He felt anyone that could murder their own children needed to be put down like a rabid dog. I agree wholly but I wish someone had looked farther into my case.” He continued as though we hadn’t been interrupted. Then he turned to Jason, “So, you’re Jason? Hmmm…I would have thought it would be Chad that came to protect them from this very bad man.” He chuckled at his cleverness.
“Yeah, I noticed that you sent Alex that message.” Jason clenched his fists but then relaxed. I followed his gaze and saw five camouflaged figures creeping toward us in formation. I signaled Alex by drawing a circle in the dirt with my shoe. She nodded and I turned toward the convicted murderer.
“I’m sorry you feel that way. He was just doing what he thought was best for kids everywhere.” I said quietly as my eyes raked over his tattered jumpsuit. He gave me a sad smile and sat down on the cold, hard ground. I sat down beside him and placed my hand on his shoulder, “Hey, none of us are going to turn you in. Isn’t that right, Tyler, Austin, Chad, Ryan, and Troy?” I was sure they heard me because everything went silent.
“Hi? We just wanted to make sure you were ok.” Chad popped up from behind one of the boulders on the other side of the clearing. Suddenly there was movement all around us. They had circled around in the trees and hid behind the boulders.
“You were coming to check on us? Is that why you have goggles and paintball guns?” I think you were coming to shoot at us.” I jumped to my feet, strolled over to Jason and pulled a gun out of one of his pockets.
“Wait! No! That’s real!” He yelled and tried to grab it from my hands a little too late. I aimed at Chad and fired off two rounds. Where we were out by the water, the shots sounded so loud and so real. His face turned to surprise as two large red spots appeared and began to spread across the front of his shirt. He sank to his knees and fell facedown into the mud of the banks. Alex looked completely shocked, but I winked at her. But when he didn’t move, I became worried and walked over to him.
I bent down and whispered, “Are you okay?” He still didn’t move so I got down on my knees to check his pulse. I was putting my hand to his neck when he rolled over and pulled me into a hug. He pushed me off his chest and rolled over on me, making me feel completely helpless. The mud began to soak through the back of my white shirt as he stuck his fingers in the red paint on his bright green shirt and wiped it down my nose. I rolled him off of me and into the creek, after which I stood up. Ryan was watching closely as I held out my hand to help Chad up. He grabbed it and hopped up, water dripping everywhere. I smiled as he picked a clump of dirt out of my hair, but there was something off. He had this weird smile as he gently brushed some hair out of my face.
“Thanks…” I kind of put some distance between us as I turned back to Mr. Jones.
“All of you seem really close. Anyway, I had better move on. I hope your father gets better.” He stood and turned to leave. Alex jumped to her feet.
“Sir, with all due respect, I think you’re giving up on us much too quickly. We all know every single hiding place in this town and surrounding areas. And I can personally guarantee that the cops will never find you, even if it means lying to all of our parents.” The others nodded and murmured their agreement.
“That is incredibly sweet of all of you, but you do realize harboring a fugitive is a federal offence, right?” We all nodded and I stepped forward.
“Let ‘em arrest us. We could make bail. Besides, my dad is a state trooper, Alex and Chad’s mom is a criminal lawyer, Ryan’s dad is a doctor/ medical examiner, Troy’s dad’s a shrink, Jason and Austin’s mom is a corrections officer, and Tyler’s parents both are high level clearance detectives. So, we can get out and prove you’re innocent.”
He just shook his head and said the very last thing we expected to hear. “How do you know I’m innocent?” He asked softly. I looked up at everyone else, and we all shared the same confused, dumbfounded look. Alex piped up.
“Sir, we all have law connections and if there is one thing and only one thing that is stressed as the most important thing for field officers, it is to trust your instincts and go with your gut.” I knew where she was coming from. Dad and I had been watching the news the morning after the arrest was made. I remember hearing the story and wondering how someone could do something so horrific. Then they showed his picture, and I knew he was innocent. I don’t know how I knew, but I just did.
Suddenly there was a sharp whistle from someone and the boys turned to the creek. A large black wolf was calmly drinking, oblivious to the several armed males on the other side.
“That wolf has been terrorizing Old Farmer Ben and his neighbors. We’ve been paid to ‘resolve the situation.’” Chad gave an incredibly brief explanation as the other boys left and I nodded. I am an animal lover but you got to draw a line somewhere. He caught up with the group, leaving us two girls alone with the convicted killer. That’s when I started worrying. I remembered how I felt about Jack, and how everything had turned out. Now I was feeling the same way toward Mr. Jones, and he was armed with more just teeth. While he was watching the boys leave, I signaled to Alex to leave. I guess she understood what was running through my mind because she nodded, said goodbye, and left too.
“Mr. Jones, sir, there is still the matter of where to hide you. Would you like to stay here tonight or would rather be moved somewhere a little more secluded?” The way I figured, his response would show ulterior motives.
“Please, call me Dave. I suppose somewhere more secluded would be best.” He looked around like he expected a hiding place to fall from the sky.
“Good idea, sir. Where would you like to stay?” He looked completely confused so I began naming places, “There are the haunted fairgrounds. It’s not too far and it already has beds and a little electricity, but you have to watch out for spiders the size of Chihuahuas.” He laughed and shook his head.
“Uh, I don’t think so.” He continued to smile as I nodded.
“Ok, well there’s Dead Man’s Bluff. Only three people know about it and it’s farther away from town. It’s off the beaten path and radios work out there. The only things to worry about are falling down the bluff and, uh, the wolves.” He thought about this one for a second.
“Are there any more options? I don’t like dogs.” He smiled at his little joke, and I grimaced with a shot of private pain.
“Well, the last place is Shallow Grave Pond. It was used as a, uh, civil war cemetery. They threw the bodies in the pond, which is only three or four feet deep. We moved a camper up there. It’s equipped for two people. It’s fully loaded: food, guns, ammo, radios, TV, drinks, handcuffs, and the basic necessities. The only thing is it is like ten to twelve miles away from here, and we can only hike. Make your choice. I’m not telling anyone which one you pick.” He considered his options for a moment.
“Shallow Grave Pond sounds about right for me. I love the civil war.” I could tell he was trying to keep me from getting nervous and reassure himself all at the same time. I could also tell that my little test was not beginning well; therefore, it would not end well. So, we hiked our 10.3 mile hike, occasionally stopping for Mr. Jones to catch his breath.
“You know, for an EMT you are really out of shape.” I told him once when we stopped. He just smiled and nodded. Finally we got there. There stood the camper, looking totally unimpressive as it overlooked the muddy little pond. We went in and I gave him a quick tour. I showed him the gun safe and had begun to explain how to open it when he interrupted me.
“I’m sorry to be so blunt, but how’d you get so many scars?” He looked like he could slap himself after he asked but I just shrugged.
“I guess I just let myself get hurt.” I tried to say with a false indifference, but I failed. The bitterness crept into my voice and he looked a little sad. If he hadn’t been watching, I know I would have cried. Most of the larger scars were from Jack, some were self-inflicted, and the rest were careless “accidents” I had while I was making pojects.
“I have to go. I promised my dad I would visit him before nightfall, and the sun’s SETTING! CRAP! I really gotta go.” I turned to leave and he tapped me on the shoulder. I spun around and he held my cell phone and gun at eye level. I blushed, took them, and ran out the door.

My feet never touched the ground, because I got to that hospital in half an hour. Straight past the elevators, I ran, nothing more than a blur. The wet floor made it difficult but I managed to slide into his room, barely avoiding the doorframe though.
“Good aim, baby doll. I thought you were actually going to break a promise.” I shifted my eyes to the ground and swore under my breath. Was he just talking about the promise to come or was he talking about something else?
“I’m sorry, Dad. I really am. I just really…” He cut me off.
“Hey, kiddo, you were a little bit late. No big offence.” I breathed freely; he didn’t know. Then my breath got caught in my throat; I had to tell him.
“Sir.” I said in a serious tone, “Do you think David James Jones is innocent?”


He gave me an odd look and quietly replied. “Taylor, that’s neither here nor there, but is there something you want to tell me?” I nodded, astounded by how well he knew me. But then again, I did try to spend every second with him.

“Yeah, Dad, I do have something I need to tell you. I’ve been talking to Dave or Mr. Jones or whatever I’m supposed to call him.” His eyes flared with anger, which was odd because he never got mad at me. He calmed himself down, not trusting himself to speak while he was in that state. Finally, he spoke in a slow, controlled voice.

“Taylor, do you mean to tell me that you have spent the day in the company of a murderer that I got the death sentence?”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, Dad. We didn’t have any problems though. Or at least not until he got my gun…” I looked away at the last sentence.

“So, he had your gun, and yet you’re still standing here? How?” I could tell by his tone that he thought I was lying. I glanced over just to see if he was giving me his “look”. Sure enough, he was.

“I don’t know. I talked him down, maybe?” I stared at an ant crawling across my shoe.

“Taylor, I honestly hope you’re lying, but I’m fairly certain you’re not.” I shook my head and turned toward the door, but I stopped in front of his nightstand.

“You know I love you, right?”There was a different emotion beneath his words, and it confused me. After switching my digital recorder off and placing it on his nightstand, I again began to move toward the door. I stopped walking, turned my head halfway to the left, and walked out. Once I was in the hall, I sagged to the floor beside his door. Sitting with my back against the wall and my knees up to my chest, I listened to him get up and play the recording. Soon I began to tune it out as I thought about him telling me he loves me.

My father has never told me to be careful, or to watch out, or even to not do something. I remember a man in New York asking him why he never told me to not talk to strangers. His response was ‘I only have to say three little words. That’s all it takes to tell her to be careful, safe, and smart. I just say ‘I love you’, and she knows that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if she was hurt.’ I love him too, but I can’t stay safe all the time.

Finally, I heard the tape repeat my dad saying that he loves me, and I wiped away a tear. “Taylor,” my dad called softly. I stood up and walked in, my pain blazed across my face.

“Yes, Dad?” he held the tape recorder out for me to take.

“You handled yourself very well out there. And Jones behaved himself pretty well. I don’t know the detectives that handled his case, but I would be willing to help prove he’s innocent. I still can’t believe the FBI opened fire on a civilian-filled area. I love you, Taylor. Remember that.” I nodded and looked longingly toward the door.

“Ok, you can go.” He said with a slightly amused tone. I hugged him and ran out the door.

I hitched a ride home with Roger and invited him in for a while.

“Thanks, Miss Petterson.” He said with a big smile as I handed him a cup of coffee. I sat down on the couch across from him.

“Yep. So, how ya been, Mr. Hot Shot Sheriff?” We both laughed and he shrugged.

“Well, I’ve been busy organizing massive manhunts with the surrounding towns for that Jones man.” I’m sure my face turned pale. I could feel the color leave it. He gave me a questioning look and asked if I was okay. A loud round of thunder drowned out my words.

“No, I am really not okay. Why must everyone insist that he is guilty?” He didnt hear me but he still got up and sat beside me, my emotions apparent in my facial expressions. But before he could begin talking me there was a knock at the door. He jumped up and answered it. I didn’t even bother looking up until Roger cleared his throat. Standing in the dimly lit doorway was Chad, soaked from head to toe.

“Chad, what happened?” My brain was refusing to function, but I knew Roger had missed the blood on his cheek. It didn’t seem to be his blood though; it was dark like it had been out of the body for a while. Chad gave Roger a meaningful look and Roger tipped his hat toward me.

With his exaggerated Southern accent, he said, “Well, Miss, I sure enjoyed a-talkin’ to ya.” He turned and left. Chad walked the rest of the way in and I ran to my dad’s room, where I grabbed him some dry clothes (even though he lives across the street).

“Jack is what happened,” was his explanation. I sighed and carried his clothes to the laundry room. After putting Roger’s mug in the sink, I sat back down on the couch and Chad sat where Roger had sat beside me. I sighed again and leaned my head against his shoulder.

“Don’t get mad when I say this, but can’t you all just get along? I know he’s a sadistic, jealous, cruel jack-wad, but he’s not worth getting hurt over. And I really don’t like anyone even mentioning him.” I closed my eyes and waited for his response.

“I suppose I can try, but Ryan ain’t gonna stop.” He brushed my hair across my forehead with his finger.

“I know. He feels really responsible for me. I wish he would understand that I can handle it. I’ve handled it forever.” I stuck my lips out and made a gorilla face as he rubbed the back of his finger down my cheek. He laughed and kissed my lips. My eyes flew open. I was shocked. I knew he liked me, but I thought he was dating Val. And to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure that he knew how I felt. He kissed my forehead, down the side of my face, and down the bottom on my neck. I shivered and jerked away.
“Chad! No, I can’t do this. You’re dating my cousin Val and I really don’t want to hurt her.” I realized that my voice was a couple octaves higher than usual and grimaced. He smiled and laid his hand on my knee.

“I broke up with her last week. She was dating that Frankie guy anyway.” He stated calmly as he gently squeezed my knee, and I laid my head back on his shoulder.

“Well, what about Alex? And Ryan?” I looked into his beautiful bright blue eyes.

“Alex’s been asking me why I haven’t moved in on you yet, and Ryan’s had chance after chance. Now it’s my time to shine.” He continued to smile as he laid his head on mine. I don’t know how long we sat there in just a peaceful silence, but I do know I eventually drifted off to sleep.

My dreams were plagued with sirens and explosions. My dad’s voice called out warnings and Chad’s voice called out that he loved me. Suddenly, a pair of dark brown, intense eyes flashed in the sky and I woke up with a gasp. All of the pain and carnage still visible when I closed my eyes, and I could feel the sadness filling my whole body with despair.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Chad mumbled as I sat up and turned on the lamp. I gasped when I saw my dad sitting in the arm chair across from the couch.

“Hi, Dad?” I was feeling incredibly awkward about my dad finding me lying on the couch asleep with Chad.

“Hi, Taylor.” He smiled as my face blazed a bright red. Chad heard the word DAD and bolted into a sitting position.

“Oh, hi, Officer Petterson. Um… this isn’t what you think.” My dad laughed as Chad blushed a deeper red than me.

“I was your age at one point. Believe me, I understand. And, personally, Chad, I prefer you over Tyler or Troy. Possibly over Jason and Austin, too. Just don't blow it.” He chuckled and stood, “Well, goodnight, kids. See you in the morning.” He walked up the stairs and flicked off his light.

“Well, that was awkward.” Chad said quietly. He smiled and kissed my forehead. I was still trying to get over my shock and embarrassment so I just sat there.

“Come on, that could have been much worse.” He whispered as he pulled me close. I could smell Jack on him. They must have been pretty close to each other for his cologne to still be there, I thought to myself. I just let Chad pull me; it wasn’t worth the risk of having my dad come back down stairs. I scooted up against him to stay warm and he sighed contently.

Another mailbox exploded, the night lit up like the fourth of July. People screamed and ran through the streets of Rotum. There was a seventh explosion before all noise died down. A young boy stood in the middle of the throng of panicked citizens. In a clear, calm voice he explained that this was the work of a prankster. Everyone calmed down and went home as the police began corralling the usual suspects.

"Do you really believe it was just some prank?" Austin pulled Chad away from the crowd with a worried look. Chad tried to look nonchalant for a reporter's camera, but he whispered that he'll talk in a minute. Austin just shrugged and walked away. Chad was inwardly scared, but on the outside he was as calm as could be. The public didn't need to know all of the investigation at the present moment. Once he and Austin had crossed the police tape away from civilians and the press, he began.

"No, actually, I believe it to be someone with military background. These explosives are just the tip of the iceberg. If I'm right, there is much, much more to come." He whispered and Austin's eyes began to cloud with fear.

"Well, that's some pleasant news. I guess I have to break it to the rest of the team?" Austin asked with fear creeping into his voice. Chad nodded and Austin groaned. He stood and shot Chad an evil look, like it was all Chad's fault. Roger Tapp, the sheriff, began to come over to Chad, but Chad's phone went off. Chad popped up his index finger, indicating he needed a minute. Roger nodded and turned toward some witnesses.

"Hello, Chad Jones's phone. Chad speaking." He was used to professionally dealing with calls, just not this one.

"Yes, I have a lead for The Explosive Holidays Case. There is a shipment of explosives going to a warehouse on a dirt road in the woods every weekend. The freight is usually numbered 8595857259." The man just hung up, after only taking thirty seconds. Chad stomped his foot when he realized he couldn't trace the number. Roger noticed Chad was off the phone and came over to him.

"Got anything? I got nothing from the witnesses and none of the suspects fit any of your profile." Roger broke more bad news to Chad, which really bummed him. This case was the one he needed to solve, but he had only one lead. That one lead was also a very suspicious lead.

"I got a tip from an anonymous caller saying a shipment of explosives goes out every weekend. I'm not sure if I want to follow up on it, though." Chad shrugged and looked hopefully at Roger. Maybe he could help.

"What? And waste manpower on that? Fine, you and I can go check it right now. There's nothing left to do here anyway." He pointed to the squad car and the two set off at a brisk stride. They jumped into the car and Chad realized Roger didn't know where to go.

"He just said there's a warehouse on a dirt road in the woods." Chad wasn't sure that the place even existed, so he was shocked when Roger said he knew the place. Roger switched off the navigation system and turned onto the main road out of Rotum. Next he switched off his radio.

"So we won't be interrupted; time is of the essence." He told Chad with a sarcastic tone. They drove for about ten miles and turned on a weed-infested dirt road. The little road went on for about four miles before they saw the top of the warehouse. A minute or two later they pulled up in front of it. Chad was awestruck at the sight of this giant decaying warehouse. Roger led the way as they entered through an open window. Chad started exploring one direction, Roger in another. Chad found a small piece of explosives on the floor beside a police hat. The last thing he saw as he turned to shout for Roger was a shovel swinging at his face.

As he came to he realized he was tied to a chair in the middle of the room he had been searching. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder, but he was tied too tightly to turn to see who it was. The hand moved slowly up his head and then snapped his neck back. Chad was powerless as the cold brown eyes glared down his sky blue ones.

"Chad, Chad, Chad. Do you ever leave things alone?" Roger calmly laughed and walked in front of him. There he squatted down to be eye-level with Chad.

"Why, Roger? And who called me?" Chad ran over all the profile he had formed: doesn't trust anyone, intelligent, ex-military, extensive explosives knowledge. It just didn't make sense. Roger was the kindest guy he knew, only a little of military experience, and never had any dealings with bombs. It was so off the profile.

"My, uh, partner called. He was backing out, feeling guilty. But I dealt with that while you were out. Bombings are something people never quite get over, and I think this hellhole of a town could use a little fear." He grinned and pulled a bomb out of his pocket. After rolling it in his hand for a moment he strapped it to the ropes restraining Chad.

"You'll never get away with this! Taylor will know it was you!" Chad fought the ropes but received no sign of loosening. Roger chuckled and rubbed his hand through Chad's hair.

"No one's ever noticed my urges. No one's noticed my attractions to bombs before. Taylor practically lived with me when Dave died. She would never suspect me. Hmmm... I always wanted blond hair like yours." Roger walked behind Chad and grabbed the back of the chair. As if it were as light as a feather, he dragged it across the room and into the closet. Then he picked up Chad's backpack and threw it toward his feet. He smiled menacingly and slammed the door, leaving Chad in the darkness of the tiny closet.






CHAPTER TWO

Chad Jones sat tied in a closet. The dank smell of mold threatened to overpower him. How he wished he had packed some nose plugs. Luckily he had packed his tape recorder. He was so relieved when he saw it. Quickly and quietly, he switched it on with his foot. As it began recording, he thought of his family, his twin sister, his best friends. Finally some words came to him and he began his last statement.

"My name is Chad Brian Jones. I live in Rotum with my mom and twin sister, Alexandria. Last month mailboxes all around Rotum began blowing up. A small explosive was planted in each of the boxes. The Y.D.G decided to investigate. Well, I know quite a bit about explosives, and this type is hard to come by. So naturally I pursued this case harder than the rest of the team. I found a lead and of course, it was a trap. Now I am sitting in a closet, tied to a chair an explosive strapped to my chest. I just want whoever finds this to tell my friends that I don't blame them. Until we meet again, forever gone, Chad Jones." A tear rolled down his face. His time was up and he knew it. He didn't fear death; he welcomed it with open arms. He just feared what would happen if his friend's didn't find out it was Roger.

As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he began to notice his surroundings. His eyes scrolled to the left corner where a man's body sat. There was a large hunting knife sticking out of his chest. Well, there's his partner, thought Chad. He heard a tick and knew what was coming. With a calm sense of knowledge, he began a prayer. Minutes later, the explosion took place. The tremors could be felt all the way through town. The whole warehouse went up. But Chad fought it; he survived. His life was hanging by a thread. Outside the squall of sirens could be heard. Roger shouted orders to the firemen and EMTs. Chad could feel gentle hands lifting him, higher and higher. A bright light surrounded him he fell into a deep sleep.

When he woke up he saw his father, or what his dad looked like in the pictures Chad had seen. He smiled a sad half smile and nodded.

"You are there, but not quite. They call this place Limbo, son. It's between life and death. I was sent to tell you that you have a place up there with me. But also, I was sent to tell you not to let go. You'll know when its time to go. Just say goodbye to your sister, tell your mom not to worry; you're in my hands now." He smiled again and pointed to a growing hole.

"But Dad, I have so many questions. I want-" Brian raised his hand.

"There will be the rest of eternity for that. Go, our family waits for you." Chad opened his mouth to protest but decided against it. He waved and walked through the hole.

He opened his eyes and was blinded by a bright light. His mom shrieked and his sister gasped. They both leaned over his bed, and a wave of dread washed over him. How was he going to tell them he couldn't stay? But he was surprised by the lack of pain in his body, until he saw the ventilator and morphine.

"Mom? Alex? Is Taylor here?" Pain flashed across their faces when he barely managed to choke out those few words.

"She's in the hall, Alex will get her." His mom gave the same sad smile as his dad. Alex ran out the door and shouted that he was awake.

"Mom, don't worry about me. Dad says I'll be with him. Alex, this is our last goodbye. I love you both. Taylor, I have always loved you as more than a friend and a sister, I always will. I can't stay. Please unplug the life support. Dad is waiting on me." His mom nodded and kissed his forehead. Alex mumbled goodbye through her tears. But Taylor knew that he deserved a good exit. She leaned over his bed and kissed him. She closed her eyes as their lips met, tears dropping onto his face. He deserved more than just a goodbye. She walked around the bed and grabbed the cord. Chad nodded and Taylor jerked the cord. Excruciating pain filled his body for a moment and then he was just gone, like a small flame snuffed out in the middle of the darkness. His last wish had been fulfilled. Alex collapsed against her mother, shaking with Chad's pain.

Taylor Petterson hopped out of the blue mustang driven by her cousin, Warren Johnston. They had gone to Chad's funeral together. His last moments replayed in her head, just as they had for the last few days and would continue to do for the rest of her life. She would catch his killer, and do a justice that the law wouldn't condone. He would suffer for Chad's murder.

As she waved goodbye to Warren, the German shepherds chained to the side of her house began to bark. She sighed as she approached them; today wasn't going so well so far. She had completely broken down at the funeral. Ryan had refused to get anywhere near the casket. Alex had stayed in pain, reliving Chad's last moments of agony. Just general funeral things.

"What now, you stupid mutts? Is there a monster in the backyard?" She walked down the stone path feeling quite ridiculous. She peered around the bushes into the wide space behind the house, and scolded herself for being paranoid. She gave a nervous laugh and turned to leave. She barely had time to let fear sink in before she heard the bushes rattle. Almost two seconds later the cold steel touched the scar on her throat. She groaned and turned her head very slightly to the left.

"Looks like I was right about the monster part." She felt the blade relax a bit as a deep chuckle came from behind her.

"Such brave talk for one facing decapitation." He chuckled again. Taylor felt the heat rise to her face as she blushed.

"Same man, different knife. How've you been, Jack?" The knife tightened across the scar he had caused as a low snarl left his throat. She was scared beyond belief, but she couldn't let him know that, so she taunted his misfortunes.

"You know very well what happened to my favorite knife. Your damn sheriff bagged it as evidence! And as for how I've been, I have been awful. Having to hide out for two years like a mere crook!" Jack removed his knife from her throat and prodded her forward with his finger.

"Where are we going now?" Taylor shivered as fear began to grip her body. Jack sensed that fear. Honestly, he lived just to feel the fear she gave off around him. He grinned and forced her into the Vigola Woods.

Deeper and deeper into the trees they went. It felt they had been walking for hours. Taylor's sandals were shredded from walking through thorns and briar. Her feet ached and bled. As she turned her head to check Jack's feet, she noticed a small revolver on his side. Suddenly her fear turned to hatred as she watched him lay a loving hand on her father's gun.

The slope they had been walking on leveled out as they passed an ancient oak tree. That tree could only mean that they were on the path to Dead Man's Bluff. There Jack could do anything he wanted to do to her, and then just throw her over the cliff. Wolves would take care of her body.

Jack sensed her thoughts and leaned forward. She shivered as he put his lips against her ear.

"Don't worry; I don't plan on killing you right away. We can have some fun first." He whispered, causing Taylor to shiver again. Her anger had faded when she saw the tree and now pure terror replaced it. This was all because she didn't run away seven years ago. Now she was stuck in this nightmare until one of them died, and right now it looked like she was the one.

He dug his knife into her back to force her on toward the cave by the cliff. He wanted her to moan in pain, but she refused to give him that satisfaction. She just clenched her teeth. Jack had done much worse to her before, caused so much more than just physical pain. She thought of how he had forced his way inside her on multiple occasions. Tears ran down her face as she remembered how at seven years old she had been forced to grow up or die.

They were now at the entrance to the cave. He pushed her roughly inside the cave and sat in front of the opening. She groaned as her knees hit the hard rocks. Trembling, she looked up at him so he could see the hurt in her eyes. He didn't look ashamed, but his icy blue eyes shined bright with excitement. Taylor wiped her eyes as she sat crossed-legged and stared at the scar under his right eye. His eyes were locked on her pale green ones. For the longest time, neither of them spoke, each unto their own thoughts. Finally Taylor spoke in a voice that shook and cracked.

"Jack, please let me go. Silas needs me home. What do you think he’ll think if I don't come back? That I'm d-d-dead? Just let me go home, please." Jack just smiled his sadistic grin. That wasn't the grin she had fallen for seven years ago. He wasn't the tanned man with the caring blue eyes anymore. Now he was just the psychotic murderer that liked to ruin young girl's lives. His muscular arms, his scarred face, his deep brass voice, they no longer called to her. She couldn't stand the touch of most males now, not even the lightest tap on the arm. This was all because of him; every moment of pain in her life was his fault.

"Why don't you want to stay and talk, Taylor?" He reached forward to lay his hand on her leg, but she jumped to her feet much too quickly for him. He stood up and raised his eyebrows threateningly. She shook her head and attempted to shove past him. He stood and grabbed her shoulders. As their eyes burned into each other's, Taylor grabbed for the gun on Jack's hip. He managed to grab her hand, making her helpless to him.

"Now why don't you want to stay?" He asked again, more quietly, more menacingly. Usually Jack didn’t get angry, but when he did his voice became very soft and his ice blue eyes would glow. That’s when she knew she was in trouble.

"Jack, I don't want to stay because the last time I was with you for more than twenty minutes I had to pray for a week that I wasn't pregnant. I couldn't look my own father in the eye until the moment he was taking his last breath. I can't stand to be in the same room with the boy who loves me. I can barely stand to be touched by my stepfather without feeling sick. Jack, you caused all of that. You robbed me of the one thing that I should have."
He just laughed at her speech, and she knew what was coming by the look in his eyes. Fear gripped her as he dragged her over to the cot in the corner of the cave. After having his way with her, Jack dragged her to the edge of the bluff and adrenaline kicked in. Taylor managed to twist away, and she ran for her life. That hour and a half of walking was covered in forty-five minutes. She knew she had to run as fast as possible, her life depended on him not being able to get a clear shot with that revolver.

Finally she made it home. After more briars and thorns, she got there. Tears streaking down her face, she burst through the door and ran past her stepfather. She went straight upstairs to her room, shut the door, and took three sleeping pills. Less than a minute later she fell into a heavy sleep.

Taylor stumbled down the darkened set of stairs. The power had gone out, engulfing the house in an eerie silence. She thought about how it mad her mad that she couldn't get an hour of sleep without something happening as she fought her way into the living room. Finally she reached the couch where her stepdad, Silas King, sat staring into the darkness. She plopped down beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. She felt some physical contact would make him think that Jack didn't touch her earlier.

"This storm really bothers me. Storms like this are a rare occurrence and for one to happen the very night he comes back to town...Not a coincidence." Taylor shuddered as a particularly loud round of thunder shook the house. Silas just shook his head and looked over at her.

"Honestly, you shouldn't be afraid of storms; they can't hurt you." He yawned and grumbled about sleep. Taylor was glad to know she wasn't the only tired person around. Silas noticed her smile during a flash of lightening and gave a small smile of his own.

"What do you fear, Silas?" Taylor knew what she feared and wanted to see what he thought about that topic. Silas stared into space with a look of concentration, or so it seemed in the dark.

"I fear death." He stated it so simply, so calmly that Taylor almost didn't know how to respond.

"Actually, most people fear the unknown behind death." She said, knowing facts could always protect her. She was scared of what his response might be, but she was also curious.

"No, I fear death. I fear losing the people I love. I fear not saying what I should have said. I fear being alone. There are things in this life that people can't comprehend how horrible it is until it happens to them." It worried her when he acted like this, but usually her aunt was there to help. Now she was alone with him, trying to figure out how she could ask him if he was okay.

"I heard that Hell is the thing people should worry about. The pit of fire burns away your humanity until only the darkness in your soul is left. That piece of you becomes a demon." She thought of Chad saying that his dad was waiting up there. She had no reason to worry about him being in Hell.

"I fear death, but death is just the beginning of another life. I'm still trying with this one, so I'll worry about that one when I get there." Silas turned his head and smiled again. After a few peaceful minutes he stood up, leaving Taylor to sit there with her mind racing. The lights flashed on and he turned to the couch.

"Time for bed...Upstairs, let's mooooove." He pulled her up and gently pushed her toward the stairs. She turned and actually smiled.

"You are really an okay guy." She said like she had just ealized it. Silas smiled and patted her on the head with a large, scarred hand, which she playfully smacked at. Taylor could tell he was relieved to see her act like this.

"Thanks. I guess you're an okay teenage girl." Silas gave a low chuckle and went on upstairs. Taylor shrugged and followed him up.

A month later Taylor sat on the toilet, her hand between her legs, scared out of her mind. She had skipped her period, and she had already done this twice. Both times had been positive, but she was determined to be absolutely sure before she told Silas. The device beeped and said in a mechanically voice ‘positive’. She shrieked as reality began to set in. At the age of 14, she was pregnant-- and Jack was the father. ‘What am I going to do? This cannot be happening to me. I’m not ready.’ Slowly she turned toward the medicine cabinet and thought of all the lethal combinations of pills. When she realized what she had just thought of, she mentally slapped herself. ‘Killing myself is just going to make everything worse.’
She stood, pulled up her pants, and marched downstairs, fighting the urge to vomit from fear. What was she supposed to tell him? She froze at the bottom step and peeked around the corner. Silas sat on the couch reading the morning paper. ‘It’s now or never.’ After a deep breath, she walked over and slammed the pregnancy test down on the table in front of him, unsure of what to say.
“I already knew.” He said quietly without looking up. Taylor’s eyes grew round and she began to stutter, “Hey, it’s not like you asked for this happen. Don’t worry; I’ll support you in whatever course of action you decide. Just make sure the father knows I’ll kill if I find him.” He sipped his coffee, his tone never changing. She didn’t doubt that Silas would kill Jack; prison had made him tough. He had been in there only five years, but it had still changed him.
“Silas, I might just kill him myself. But as for the baby, I want to keep it. I know I’m not old enough to raise a child, but I figured between me, you, Ryan, and his mom, we can do this.” Silas nodded and Taylor felt a little relief. She wondered what her dad would say if he was still alive. But for him to be alive, Jack wouldn’t have left, causing her to become depressed, making Dave think a vacation as a good idea.

“Silas, may I have a real birthday party this year? Everyone needs to forget their worries, even if it is just for one night.” Taylor Petterson leaned against the kitchen table as she waited for his answer.
“Well, I don’t see why not.” He stopped eating long enough to study her face. She turned bright red and walked over to the fridge. She snatched up an orange and returned to the table, where she sat down across from him.
“Late for court?” Taylor peeled her orange as her stepfather peered over his glasses at her, his face permanently lined from always looking so serious.
“Very. Oh well, the most they can do is say I’m a flight-risk and revoke my parole.” He took his last bite and stood up. Before he thought, he walked over and kissed her forehead. She squirmed uncomfortably and he looked apologetic.
“Need me to come with?” She asked nonchalantly to show there were no hard feelings. He understood and pulled on his jacket.
“No, but I do need you to at least try to stay out of trouble.” She nodded and waited on him to leave. Once he was gone, she had a phone to her ear and her party was halfway planned. Within two hours she had everything planned and reserved. All that was left to do over the next week was make her dress and double check everything.
Finally it was Halloween, the day of her 15th birthday party. The last thing on her list was to go and enjoy herself. She had set the theme as masquerade so no one would know who was who. As she walked through the double doors with three other girls and joined the crowd, her friend Evan announced her arrival but didn’t identify her.
The music began and a tall figure stepped forward. He held out his hand and slowly she took it. As they began to move, Taylor felt her face turned red. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know who her partner was, so she watched her feet, then his, and slowly worked her way up to his face. Her heart leapt to her throat as their eyes met. His eyes seemed to freeze her very soul, for they were the coldest shade of blue imaginable.
“Jack,” was all she could manage to choke out. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he laughed his deep, beautiful laugh.
“You seem surprised to see me.” He twirled her out and back in with a giant smile plastered across his face. ‘He has perfect teeth,’ she thought, realizing how odd it was to notice that right then. He pulled her against him, their chests touching. Slowly he leaned down with his lips brushing against her ear, quietly coaxing her to leave with him. Taylor’s willpower was crumbling. All of the good memories of him that she had suppressed for so long came flooding back as he gently kissed her neck.
“Jack, don’t. Don’t do this. Stop. Stop! Ryan’s watching!” Ryan Johnson was standing completely still about ten feet away, eyeing the pair suspiciously. Taylor knew the fight between them was far from over, but Jack merely turned back toward her and resumed his whispering.
“Let’s leave. Just you and me, let’s go somewhere alone.” He gave her his crooked politician smile, which he had perfected over the years, and her heart began to crumble too. All those years he had forced himself upon her was forgotten as his hands went to her waist and they began to sway toward the door. Luckily, Silas happened to resurface from his week-long trip in his stepdaughter’s moment of need. Carefully cutting in, he took Taylor’s hand. Jack respectfully bowed out and left.
“Jack is a persistent man, is he not?” Silas asked as the song changed.
“Yes, but how did you know it was him?” She was shocked to hear Silas say his name.
“I didn’t.” He whispered before he twirled her toward a table loaded down with presents. She laughed as she chose a plain brown box. When she saw there wasn’t a name on it, she knew there was something wrong. Slowly she pulled the wrapping off and the tissue paper out, only to find a note containing the two words: I KNOW. Self-consciously she put her hand on her stomach and threw the box aside. Quickly she scanned the crowd and shook her head. Next, she grabbed a present that merely had MINE printed on the tag. Jack, she thought to herself, I’ll return this later, unopened.
Eventually, she worked her way to her last present, which was hand-delivered by Roger Tapp, the sheriff and her godfather. Taylor ripped it open quickly and laughed when she found it was empty. He tapped her shoulder and she spun to see him holding a thin necklace with a large cross pendant. Hanging from the cross was a note which she took and read.

Taylor:

My dear, beautiful daughter, I just

laid eyes on you for the first time. I

wanted to give you this present my

self, but, obviously, that didn’t happen

for some reason. And I’m sorry for that.

I love you. Thank Roger for me. Remember
that whatever happened to me wasn’t your fault.




-Dave Petterson


Taylor reread the note through watery eyes and hugged Roger. He understood; Dave had been like a brother to him; they had grown up together. He nodded and left without a word. Silas watched the waterworks from a distance and wanted to stop the tears before the whole party crashed down around Taylor's ears. He had the cake wheeled out and the party resumed. The rest of the night passed without incident, but when they got home he had to leave again. Taylor sighed and went to bed, thinking about how Jack wasn’t much younger than Roger and Silas. ‘He could probably take them; he’s only like six years younger than Roger and fourteen younger than Silas. Those extra years of acquired knowledge could come in handy though,’ she thought with a laugh.

Cre-e-e-e-e-eak… Taylor woke up when she heard her window slide open. Carefully sliding her hand under her pillow, she groped around for the small pistol her father had left her. Without her heart speeding up a beat, she pulled it out and turned the safety off.

“I will give you until the count of three to identify yourself or I will shoot. It’s your choice.” Taylor sat up and leveled the gun, her hand steady as she aimed toward the source of the noise. A quiet chuckle came from the area beside the window. Her hand began to shake as she thought of the dance a couple hours before.

“Jack? You have some nerve showing up here with Silas in the next room.” Her voice faltered as she heard his footsteps, so light, so steady, more like a panther stalking its prey than a man in her room. Right now, she felt like prey.

“Taylor, Taylor, Taylor,” he began condescendingly. She couldn’t see him, but she could just imagine the wicked glint in his eye, “We both know you’re lying.” His voice was over by her bedroom door now. How can he possibly move like that? She heard the lock on her door click and felt the end of her bed move as he sat down. She could feel his calloused hand resting lightly on her ankle. Slowly, he began massaging it, and she made a small whimper-like noise.

“Jack, don’t do this. Please don’t do this. Please.” Her voice began to break and Jack shushed her.
“Taylor, baby, honey, beautiful, I didn’t come for that. Not tonight anyway. I was just coming to see if you enjoyed our little dance. Cuz’ it pained me to have to walk away from you.” Taylor pulled her knees to her chest and he moved up the bed to sit beside her. She felt him lean toward the side and he turned on her lamp. The small light from the lamp threw shadows over his new injuries. His face was bruised and his white shirt was soaked with blood.

“Jack! You’re hurt!”

He grumbled, “Tell me something I don’t know", and pulled at his shirt. She leaned over to touch his side as he winced.

“Take your shirt off. I’ll get my first aid kit.” She laid the .22 on her bed and took off to the bathroom. To her, he wasn’t a threat when injured; her instincts just kicked in and she went to work. She cleaned the wounds and got a basic outline of what had happened.

“Your boyfriend hid outside the dance and blitzed me on my way out. I just took it. I knew you would be ready to kill me if I roughed him up.” Taylor finished stitching him up and sat down beside him, trying to keep her eyes away from his tan chest.

“He’s not my-- Thank you for not killing him. He did some pretty serious damage on you, though.” Jack smiled and tried to sit up. He grimaced as pain shot through his body.

“I should go. Silas--” He started, but Taylor cut him off.

“Is out of town on his court case, and will remain so for a couple weeks. Now lay still.” She lay down beside him and was silent. He rolled on his good side and gazed at her face. She rolled to face him, her face expressionless. A strand of her black hair fell across her face and Jack reached to move it behind her ear. When his fingers brushed against her forehead, she shuddered and he sighed. The way they had danced earlier was on both of their minds, giving them new thoughts of one another.

“You’re growing up. You’re turning into a fine young woman.” Jack let his hand rest on hers. He could tell she was forcing herself to remain calm and not pull away.

“You’re changing, too.” She said with no change in her tone. She honestly meant it, though. He was starting to care, and he wasn’t forcing himself on her. He gave a sad smile, and moved his hand off hers, staring into her eyes. Normally Taylor’s heartbeat never changed, but he was making her heart erratic. Jack smiled as her true feelings shined through her eyes despite her efforts to keep them veiled.

“I can see how you feel. There’s no point in that wall. Feelings just mean you’re human.” He rubbed the back of two fingers from her ear to her lips. She closed her eyes and allowed a small tear to slip out.

“Hey, don’t cry. It’ll be fine. Here, I’ll leave.” He rolled over on his stomach and attempted to raise himself up. Groaning with pain the whole time, he managed to force himself into an upright position. Taylor sat up and put her hand against the bandage on his side.

“I’m fine. You can’t leave until you’ve healed part of the way. Two weeks should be long enough.” She said, staring into his eyes. Jack grabbed hold of her wrist and watched as fear flitted across her face. It was only there for a second and then her face was blank.

“See? You just slap up that wall at the slightest touch. Is it for me only or for every male?” He was curious to see how much damage he had done to her life. Sometimes he felt bad about that, but he knew somewhere in her heart she enjoyed parts of it.

“It’s for every male.” She stated simply. “I’m getting tired. I’ll sleep in Silas’ room. Try to rest.” She stood and he grabbed her arm again. His grip was strong, stronger than what she had expected.

“Stay with me. Just for a while.” His eyes were pleading, but she knew he was faking.

“Jack, you are a gifted actor, but I know you better than that. Drop the act.” Immediately his eyes grew playful, making him look younger. Taylor sighed and he released her arm. Slowly she lay down beside him again and they rolled to face each other again.

“I hate you.” She said with a small smile while Jack started laughing.

“Your lips say ‘I hate you’ but your eyes say ‘I don’t really,’” was his response. They both smiled and she yawned.

“Maybe.” She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, and he moved a little bit closer toward her. Within a few minutes her breaths were light and even; her face simple and beautiful. Jack slowly laid his arm across her shoulder, and in her sleep, Taylor wiggled closer to him.

“This is how it should be.” He whispered into her ear. He knew just laying here could be considered a crime considering his past encounters with this girl, but age had never mattered to him. Soon, he fell asleep with her in his arms.

That’s how they were still laying when Taylor woke up a few hours later. Jack’s arms were wrapped around her and her face was buried in his bare chest. She smiled and moved closer, then realized what she was doing. Oh well, she thought as she wiggled closer again.

“Well, good morning to you, too.” Jack chuckled and squeezed her.

“How long have you been awake?” She asked quietly, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Oh, about an hour. You looked so peaceful that I hated to wake you.” He said, smiling. Everything between them was forgotten as they laid there, her in his arms. He was whispering in her ear the things he had thought about doing while she was asleep. She was so intoxicated by his smell and mesmerized by his voice that she didn’t pay attention to anything he said. Suddenly she snapped back to Earth.

“You do realize it is 4 AM right?” She laughed at his confused look.

“Well, then we have plenty of time to lay here.” Jack rested his stubbly chin on her forehead and stared off into space. Taylor managed to unpin her arms, but her struggling snapped Jack out of his trance. He took his arms away from her, scooted back a bit, and held her face to where their eyes met. Taylor was content looking into his incredible blue eyes, and he was content looking into her pale green ones.

“Your eyes get paler when you’re enjoying yourself.” He observed.

“What makes you think I’m enjoying myself?” She asked with false ferocity.

“This,” was his only response as he leaned forward. The next minute seemed to last forever as he kissed her. When his lips left hers, she jerked away, shocked. But a few seconds later she pushed her lips against his and they kissed again. When it was over, Taylor laid there confused and Jack smiled triumphantly.

“What just happened?” She asked meekly. He chuckled and rolled over to face her again.


“You let yourself feel something. You’ve been fighting it for years, and you know it.” He knew she would have to agree. He had seen it when they were dancing. She had been dying to kiss him, and he had been dying to get a voluntary kiss out of her for years. All it took was a little coaxing.

“That did not just happen. I’m asleep and this is just a nightmare. I’m dreaming. When I wake up, you’ll be gone and this will have never happened.” She held her eyes shut and quietly counted to herself. When she opened them, he smiled and kissed her again. She tried closing her eyes again, but when she did, he just kissed her eyelids.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He chuckled and rolled over on his back. He was silent for a moment and pushed himself into a sitting position.

“So, I take it you’re about a month and a half along?” Jack glanced at the shocked look on her face. Had he been the one who had left that note? She began to panic.

“How do you…? How could you possibly…?” She began to stutter, tears running down her cheeks.

“Honey, I am twenty-eight years old; I have seen pregnant women. You look about two months along right now, but I also know when it happened. I should know anyway. Just remember, from now on I am keeping a close eye on you, whether you see me or not.” He lay back down. Carefully he scooted up against her and kissed her neck, slowly slipping his hand under her shirt. He let it rest on her lower stomach and continued kissing her neck. He hadn’t meant for this to happen, but there was no going back now. Taylor closed her eyes as tears continued to stream down her cheeks. Why did this have to happen now? Jack stopped kissing her neck and nibbled at her ear for a moment before whispering to her.
“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl? I’ve always wanted a little boy.” He actually sounded like a concerned, serious parent. She just shook her head as he started massaging her stomach.
“I’m thinking about having an abortion, actually. Most women don't want their rapist's baby.” He pulled his hand from under her shirt and stared at her. She felt pretty satisfied at the shocked looked that appeared on his face, but within seconds he had a more threatening look. She laughed disbelievingly. He realized she was lying about the abortion and playfully patted her cheek, worrying though about the rapist part.Was she still hurting? Taylor put her hand over his and held it against her cheek for a minute. Suddenly she jumped up and walked out of the room. I cannot believe that just happened. She silently cursed herself and the day she met him; he was the source of all of her pain. Yet, she thought she might love him; she couldn’t just turn her back on him now. She sighed and stood against the frame of the backdoor, lost in her thoughts. Taylor was so enthralled by her thoughts of him that she didn’t hear Jack creep up behind her. He put her arms around her waist and blew in her ear. She gasped and went slightly limp in his arms. Smiling, he began to sway, causing her to sway with him.
“I’m sorry about the last eight years. I’m sorry about destroying your life. And I am truly sorry about thrusting this responsibility on you.” He whispered softly, and Taylor closed her eyes. He couldn’t see the tears rolling down her face, but he knew they were there. She nodded and managed to mutter that it was okay. Jack smiled and kissed her ear. Slowly he worked his way down her neck and across her shoulder and back up to her ear. Taylor shivered and wiped her eyes. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to see if he caused any feelings in her, so he slipped his hand under her shirt and over her heart, which was thundering violently under his hand. She breathed in deeply and breathed out a shaky breath. He laughed at how nervous he was making her, and she gave a small smile.
“Ok, you can move your hand now.” She said in a slightly shaking, slightly amused voice. He groaned sadly and gently slid his hand over her breast and down her stomach.
“Thank you.” She laughed nervously and pulled his other hand off her waist. He put both of his hands on her shoulders and spun her around, planting a quick kiss on her lips. She rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn.

“You’re tired. Go back to sleep and I’ll wake you up about 9 or 10. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.” Taylor nodded and turned to walk away, but Jack raised the bottom of her nightshirt as she began to trudge toward her room. She turned and laughed, giving him a silly look, and went down the hall. From her doorway, she gave him a long, hard look and shut her door.

Jack stood there in the backdoor, wondering how he could make up the last eight years to her in two weeks. He decided he was going to start right then, and he wouldn’t rest until he righted this wrong. Right now, a big breakfast and waiting on her hand and foot seemed appropriate. But also, he began to worry about their age difference. Maybe 13 years was too many.
A few hours later Taylor woke up to the smell of bacon. She realized just how hungry she was as the savory smell taunted her. Slowly, she got out of bed and pulled on her robe. She could hear Jack humming as she walked down the hallway. When she poked her head around the corner she got a shocking sight; Jack stood in front of the stove, flipping pancakes with an apron on over his bandaged body and a dishtowel over his shoulder. She walked around the corner and he smiled when he caught sight of her.
“G’mornin’ kid. How’d ya sleep?” He walked over to her and pulled her into a one-arm hug.
“I slept just fine, thank you.” Taylor said quietly and laughed when he smeared flour down her nose.
“I hope you’re hungry. I made a lot of food.” He stepped back so she could see the table, which was covered in bacon, eggs, pancakes, sausage, and biscuits with country style gravy. She gasped and blanched slightly.
“Wow, Jack. Thank you. I didn’t know you could cook.” He laughed and hugged her again, oblivious to the fear in her eyes.
“Guess what I found laying on the couch.” He held up a small black present with the word MINE printed on the tag, “I guess you were going to give it back, but I really want you to have it.” He handed it to her and watched as she opened it; her eyes lit up with delight as she pulled it out by the handle. It was an antique revolver with a pearl grip and customized engravings of wolves.
“Thank you, Jack, really, thank you. I love it. Thank you so much.” She laid the gun and box on the table and turned back toward him. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. When she let go, she turned red and her face, completely angry with herself.
“Be careful with it. It cost me a fortune.” He said sternly, but with a wink.
“Really?” She eyed him suspiciously, her delight quickly vanishing. She refused to take expensive gifts from anyone, even a crazy, murdering rapist who ruined her life.
“No, I called in a favor with a guy that owed me big time. I told him I wouldn’t have him pay with his life if he found me a gun like this for my girl. Naturally, the guy agreed. Anyway, let’s eat.” Jack said with a forced smile, and Taylor nodded. She filled her plate while Jack waited respectfully for her to eat. She grew more leery of how kind he was acting by the minute. This had to be some kind of ploy to hurt her again.

“That was really good. Thank you for cooking breakfast for me.” She said as they were leaving the dining room. He nodded and put his arm around her shoulder, hoping the present wouldn't be brought back up. She looked up at him and smiled.
“You have a little bit of uh… here I’ll get it.” He leaned down and gently kissed the corner of her mouth, licking his lips as he pulled away, “Gravy.” He said with a laugh. She closed her eyes, forcing a smile. He led her over to the couch and made her sit while he went and washed dishes. She sat there and watched the morning news for a while, but then there was a knock at the door. She could hear Jack humming so she knew he hadn’t heard it. Slowly she got up and opened the door. There stood Ryan with a present in his hand. She beckoned him in and sat down on the chair across from the couch.
“Thank you for the present. I’m gonna go get us a pop, and then I’ll open it. One sec.” She hopped up and ran in the kitchen, “Ryan’s here,” she whispered as she ran past Jack, who scrambled to her room. She yanked open the fridge, grabbed two Mountain Dews, and ran back into the living room. After passing Ryan a pop, she ripped open his present, which was a beautiful black dress.
“Do you like it?” He asked quietly as she admired the dress.
“Like it? Ryan, I love it. Thank you.” They both stood up and she hugged him. He nodded.
“Well, I gotta go. Chores and then Uncle Ben wants me to help him with a pest. I’ll talk to ya later.” He left and Jack resumed washing the dishes, humming like nothing ever happened. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine life without Jack, but she couldn’t. He was too big a part of her life to not have. Her whole life revolved around him. She could lie to herself and pretend like she’d be better off without him, but she knew it was pointless. He was her everything, and he knew it, which made it so much worse.
“Hey, Taylor, come here, please.” Jack poked his head around the corner of the wall and motioned for her to come. She nodded and walked into the dining room. He had taken his bandage off and was trying to sponge off some of the blood.
“Jack, you won’t heal if you don’t keep your gauzes on.” She said exasperatedly. She grabbed a first aid kit from the top of the fridge and rubbed some foul-smelling ointment on his stitches. He made an awful face and they both laughed.
“Don’t worry; I like you even if you stink.” Taylor teased with a smirk. He pulled her down on his knee and raised his eyebrows.
“You only like me? I thought it was more than that.” He asked with fake anger and put his arm around her stomach. She smiled and kissed his cheek, knowing that he was faking. He leaned forward, turning her head to the side, and he kissed her. Taylor sat completely still, refusing to move her lips.
“I gotta go. Got some business to take care of.” She said quietly once their lips parted, and Jack knew he had screwed up yet again. He just nodded and she stood up.
“I’ll stay out of sight.” He looked at her apologetically, but she was staring at her feet. Breathing in deeply, she turned and walked away, her heart beating in her ears. Did I really just let him do that? Why do I keep wanting more? Why am I drawn to him? Taylor was terrified that she was really falling for him, that somehow things would again go astray and he would hurt her. Silently, she walked out of the house and down the path beside it.
Jack stood up and pushed the chair in, feeling incredibly stupid. He knew he shouldn’t do that to her; he knew she was already confused. But he couldn’t help it; he was starting to fall for her. It was no longer about lust. He knew she was starting to become even more confused; her eyes always told him exactly what was going on in her heart whenever they met his.
Whenever she looked at him with those amazing, beautiful pale green eyes, Jack could feel his heart speed up just thinking about her, but in her presence, he felt like he could fly. She always had a slightly afraid look when close to him, but he had noticed her admiring him from a distance, which made him feel amazing. She had completely blown off Ryan for him, which was a good sign. She loved him; he could almost feel it when his lips met hers.
Jack stood and slipped out the backdoor, not quite sure of where he was going. The first place that flickered into his mind was the place where they had met. It seemed quite fitting considering his last two days. He didn't know where Taylor was going but he knew he couldn't stay away right now. Silent as the grave, he prowled through the woods.

Taylor walked through the woods, her mind racing. Jack was actually acting like a human. He was actually caring and being sweet. Was it possible for him to feel real emotions? She walked automatically to the place where she met him, wishing she could figure out what was going on.
A twig cracked behind her and she spun on her heels. “Jack?” She called softly. He stepped out of the shadows, an ashamed look on his face.
“I was planning on coming here too, but then I noticed you were heading this way. I guess I figured you wanted to be alone, so I hid.” He said softly as he walked ahead of her and sat down on a rock.
“It’s fine.” She said with a scared smile and walked over to him.
“Remember this rock? It was the first place I did this.” He smiled and pulled her onto his lap. Trembling slightly, she laid her head on his shoulder.
"Yeah, I remember. This was also the first place we met. I was swimming right over there and I came onto the bank to dry off, and here you sat. You asked me if I had a good swim." She said, and he chuckled. So many memories came back to both of them.
The place still appealed to Jack. He remembered how that day had looked so much like today. The trees shaded the area with their bright green leaves, and rocks were scattered all over the place. The water still had a dark, murky, mysterious look to it. The place still seemed so hostile and frightening. He wasn’t sure if she remembered or not, but this was also the first place that he hurt her.
“I want to swim.” He said quietly, snapping Taylor out of her memories.
“I want to, too, kind of.” She said as she stood up. She walked to the water’s edge, kicked off her shoes, and began stripping off her clothes. Jack watched hungrily as she stripped down to her bra and panties. She glanced back at him and stepped gingerly into the water, eventually wading away from the bank.
“The water’s fine. Come on.” She shouted as she swam farther out. He reluctantly began to strip down to his boxers and entered the water. He wasn’t quite sure what the water would do to his stitches, but he didn’t hesitate to swim after her. When she saw him coming, Taylor dived under the water, hopng to avoid him.
“I’m going to get you.” He said and began to swim toward the spot where she disappeared. Quickly he dived under and tried to find her, but the water was too murky. When he resurfaced, he saw her floating a little bit to his left, looking for him. Under he went again, scaring her, his one goal.
Taylor scanned the water for Jack, but she couldn’t see any sign of him. Suddenly something grabbed her ankle and tried to pull her under. She screamed and started flailing around, but she was still pulled. Jack drew her close and swam back up to the surface. She sputtered and let off a long stream of curses, causing him to laugh.
“Hey, hey, calm down. You’re fine; I didn’t hurt you. I was just trying to scare you a little.” He said while she splashed him.
“You almost gave me a heart attack.” She yelled she swam over to shove him. Jack dived and swam for shore with Taylor at his heels. Once they were on the bank, she laid there and he doubled over, laughing. She stood up and grabbed her clothes.
“Where are you going?” he asked, laughter suddenly ceasing.
“The sun’s going down. I’m going home" She said with a calm anger. He just nodded. Quickly she stripped down and pulled her clothes on, carrying her wet undergarments. Jack just pulled his clothes on over his wet boxers and bandages and set off at a brisk pace. They walked through the darkened woods in silence, occasionally catching glances of the orange sky.
“I’m exhausted. I think I’m going to take a nap. What about you?” Jack looked over at Taylor, trying to ease the tension. She walked through the backdoor, completely ignoring him. He knew her anger would abate eventually, but until then he would face her cold shoulder technique.

The author's comments:
The end. Now where do I go from here?

He sat in the living room for about twenty minutes, trying to let her calm down, but when he went upstairs she didn’t answer his knock. He smiled when he peeked in to find her sprawled across the bed, muddy shoes and damp clothes still on. Silently, he crept in and moved her to one side of the bed. He slowly lay down, covering the both of them. I LOVE HER, he thought, surprised by the sudden surge of affection he felt for her. In her sleep, Taylor whimpered his name. He was shocked that she was dreaming of him, and he gently shook her awake.
“Wazzagoinon?” She muttered as she began rubbing her eyes.
“You were having a nightmare.” He whispered as he pulled her close.
“Yeah, I dreamt about--Nevermind. Just a reaccuring nightmare.” She said quietly, and he felt his heart shatter. He knew what she had dreamed about and it crushed him. His past mistakes were always going to haunt her. She would always seem so weak, so vulnerable, and he realized just what he was in for. He was silent for a moment, but, finally, he took a deep breath, unsure of what to say.
“I’m not going to do that ever again, Taylor. I swear on the Styx River,” he whispered while rubbing her back. When Taylor didn’t respond, he looked down. Chuckling, he realized that she had fallen back asleep.
Jack felt pretty at ease lying there, but he couldn’t help but worry about their future. ‘She has to finish high school, and I have to talk to Silas. Also, we’ll need money, and… s***, what about the cops at the hospital? Roger… man, I don’t have the heart to tell her what he is.’ He laid there worrying until he eventually drifted off into a troubled sleep.
A few hours later, he awoke to an empty bed. Just as the panic began to set in, he heard the shower running. He forced himself off the bed, wet bandages chafing his skin, and marched over to the bathroom door. Smiling, he knocked and opened the door, wishing he could join her.
“Do blueberry pancakes sound alright for dinner?” He poked his head in and asked, knowing how wrong it was to feel this way. She stuck her head out and nodded, slinging water everywhere. He laughed and went to the kitchen.
Taylor didn’t know it, but Jack felt at home in the kitchen. She thought he was only good for killing, mutilating, and hurting, but he was multi-talented. Quickly he made the pancakes, washed the dishes, and set the table. But in all the time it took him, she still hadn’t returned.
He was beginning to get worried so he went to her room, where she stood with her back to him, rummaging through the dresser drawers. Silent as a mouse, he crept up behind her and slid his hands under her wet nightgown. She jumped and almost screamed as his hands softly glided up her legs. Without really thinking, he noted she was naked beneath the gown.
“Jack!” She scolded and laid her head against his chest. He chuckled and began to massage her stomach.
“You are way too tense, honey.” He kissed the top of her head and pulled his hands out of her gown. She grabbed a black wad of cloth and stalked off toward the bathroom. Jack started to follow, but froze when she slammed the door. He heard the lock click and thought to himself, ‘S***, screwed up again.’
A minute later, the lock clicked and the door opened. Standing in the doorway was Taylor wearing the dress Ryan had given her. Jack smiled and walked around her, admiring the way the dress hugged her body in all the right places.
“Does it look okay?” She asked timidly. He waited until he was behind her again before responding. Slowly he wrapped his hands around her waist.
“It looks absolutely stunning.” He whispered while hugging her tight. He began kissing her neck, causing her to shiver.
“T-T-Thanks?” She stuttered, and Jack smiled. She was so nervous around him, but it made her seem so much sweeter.
“I love you.” He said softly while unzipping the back of her dress. Taylor froze. Had he really just said that? That was the first time those three little words had ever slipped out of his mouth. She was so surprised that she barely noticed as Jack kissed her bare back.
Jack was equally as shocked that he had said that, but he realized it was true. He really did love her. For the first time in forever, he was scared. He was scared of what her response might be; that she wouldn’t return those words. He worked his lips down her back while he waited for her to return his affectionate words.
Slowly, she whispered, “I love you, too,” and he breathed again. He unhooked her bra and slid one strap off her shoulder, unsure of what her reaction might be. Would she reject him, welcome him, or would she remain impassive?
He kissed her shoulder and slid the other strap off. But he noticed their reflection in the mirror across the room and froze. Taylor was staring at her feet, a look of sheer terror on her face. This wasn’t what he wanted; he didn’t want to have to force her anymore. Before he was set on becoming a better person and a good father, he would have continued with her fear as his motivator. He kissed her other shoulder as he thought it over. Finally, he decided that he would stop when she said to, if he could…
Jack turned her around and kissed her lips, slowly working his hands up her sides. Her lips remained still and she closed her eyes, fighting to hold back the tears. He knew it was wrong to continue with her so scared, but old habits die hard. He began kissing her neck, pausing for a moment when he reached the scar on her throat. He remembered the day he gave her that scar, and it haunted him. Why had he wanted to kill her that day? He couldn’t even remember now; it had only been eight years since then. Why couldn't he remember?
Taylor shook as he kissed her neck, his hands gently massaging her back. She was terrified of him and just how far he would try to go. Also, she was terrified of her feelings for him. She knew he knew how she felt, and she knew he could easily exploit her feelings. There was no telling how many women he had practiced that skill on.
“Jack?” She said quietly. He worked his lips down her neck and the front of her dress, which was slipping off. She fought the odd feeling between her legs as he kissed further down.
“Hmmm?” He mumbled, enjoying himself too much to actually respond.
“Please stop, please.” She pleaded softly and his lips froze.
“Okay.” He let go of her and backed away. She pulled her dress back up and walked off, her heart beating in her ears. ‘I've gone too far this time,’ he thought, feeling like a horny teen. Was he doomed to always hurt her? He lay down on her bed and covered his face with a pillow, intent on suffocating himself.
Taylor didn’t fight the tears anymore; she just let them flow. Her back was facing him, for she was determined to at least look strong around him. Silently she walked out of the room and sank to the floor by her door. Why did I let him do that? Why didn’t I stop him when he first started? She thought painfully and began to worry about the baby’s future. There was no way she was going to make it, not with Jack groping her every chance he got, and if she killed herself the baby went too.
Jack uncovered his face and heard her quiet sniffling. “Taylor,” he called softly, but she didn’t respond. Knowing he should probably give her some space but not caring, he pushed himself up. Quietly moaning in pain, he limped over to where she sat. Without a word, he slid down the wall beside her and put his arm around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry. That was completely wrong and inappropriate of me. It was incredibly stupid and I apologize. I hope you’re okay.” He said quietly, and she laid her head on his shoulder.
“I’ll be fine,” She mumbled, void of any emotion. ‘The wall,’ he thought to himself. He squeezed her and stood up, hoping to clear up the tension.
“Well, supper’s on the table, if you’re hungry.” He said with a false smile.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” She whispered, not bothering to hide her tears, “Wait, did you just say supper? Is Kentucky growing on you?” A small smile appeared on her face.
“After eight years? Hell no. You are growing on me.” He held out his hand and gently pulled her to her feet.
“T-T-Thanks.” She shivered and he pulled her close, wiping her tears. Down the hall, the kitchen waited with the appetizing smell of blueberries, which called to Taylor. She realized she was so hungry, which was expected with the baby and all.
“So, why are you dressed like that? Fancy pancake dinner?” Jack asked absently. He was mainly concerned with her emotional state, but her response still caught him off guard.
“Umm… No, Jack, Roger invited me to dinner at La Chez. Is that okay?”



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