I shrugged, “It felt wrong. Something’s wrong with the whole thing. I just don’t know what. It’s possible that it’s me, that I’m a moron. Jack pretty much told me so, but I can’t sign that.”
Kate smiled sadly, “I wish you would, but I’m also glad you didn’t.”
I nodded. Kate turned back to the pot. “Did he say anything else, before he left?”
She dipped a spoon into the boiling broth, raising it to her lips. She blew on it gently before sipping it. Nodding, she banged a spoon on the side of the pot and said, “As a matter of fact, he did. He said, “make sure she signs this.” Not the kind of thing a jackass would say. If you sign that paper, his case is screwed. Did you read it?” I shook my head, glancing at the pages. “The other evidence is only testimony. Your case is the only one that holds tangible proof to the accusations. If you sign that, Jack loses everything and goes to jail for a very long time.”
My stomach twisted as I picked up the papers, staring at them. I wouldn’t survive in jail. I knew that without a doubt. I was too soft, too sensitive. It made me a target, but it also made me see things others missed. And this, I could feel it—Jack was lying—it just wasn’t the lie I thought.
__________
I parked Kate’s car at the Econolodge. Rain was pouring from the sky like someone left a hose on. I stepped from the dry interior and was instantly soaked. The dark parking lot made me nervous, but I crossed to the door with the golden number 34. I banged on it twice. Loudly.
Jack pulled the door open, his jaw dropping to his chest, surprised to see me. “Abby, what are you...?”
But I didn’t give him a chance to answer, “How could you look me in the eye and lie to my face?” Taking my soaking wet hands, I shoved his chest. “Answer me! Don’t I deserve as much?” Rain pelted me, soaking me through and through. Water dripped down my face, but Jack didn’t touch me.
“You deserve more than I can give. Go home, Abby. Sign the paper,” his voice was cold. Moving back, Jack started to close the door. Kicking my foot out, I stuck it in the jam before the door shut.
“I’m already a martyr, Jack. Your compassion is wasted on me. I’ve been fired from my church, they were all too happy to do it. There’s nothing left for me. I might as well throw myself off a bridge or go rot in jail. It makes no difference at this point. What I want to know is how you can stand there and lie to me? Answer me Jack, or so help me, I’ll...”
Jack yelled back, the sound of the rain filling the air, “Or you’ll what, Abby? I tried to save you. I can’t do a damn thing to help me, but I can clear your name. I can remove it from your record and give you another chance.” He stepped closer to me, rain pouring down his neck, soaking his shirt. “Sign the fucking papers.”
As he was yelling at me, something snapped. I couldn’t stand it anymore, “You can’t save me, Jack! You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved! And I don’t want it. I’ll do what I have to, even if it kills me. I am not signing that fucking paper. I am not accusing you of something you didn’t do, but for the life of me, I can’t understand why you won’t admit it!” I pulled the papers out of my jacket, and ripped it in half, shredding it. Every ounce of anger that flowed through me was put into that action. The silent volcano within me exploded. I was screaming at Jack, and when he reached for the paper, trying to stop me, I threw it at him. The only thing keeping me from a jail cell was ripped to shreds, sticking to the parking lot like wet confetti.
Jack was shocked, watching me rant like a lunatic, shredding my freedom and tossing it in the air like it didn’t matter. “Words won’t save me. What I say makes no difference. Someone did this to me, and there’s no going back. Even if Phil clears my name and I avoid jail, I’m ruined.” He pushed his sopping wet hair out of his eyes. “There’s nothing left here for you, Abby. I’m screwed no matter what I do. I just hoped that I could make things better for you.”
My chest was heaving, huge tears of rage dripping down my face, making a hot trail. “What’s mine is yours, Jack. The good, the bad, and the ugly. All of it. I said yes when you asked me to marry you. I knew what that meant. I’m not here for your money. I don’t care about your studio. I’m here for you. I was here when things were good, and I’m here when they’ve gone to hell.”
His eyes were glassy, but he didn’t step out closer. A sad smile snaked across his lips, “This is one time that I wish to God you’d listen to me. Go home, Abby. Wash your hands of me.”
The door closed in my face. Jack vanished on the other side, leaving me standing alone in the rain. It felt like my heart died in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know what to do, so I stood there, rain pelting me, soaking me to the bone. Minutes passed. Dread pooled in my stomach, sickeningly quick. It felt like the cold night would swallow me whole and I wished it would. It would be easier than this—easier than leaving him behind. That’s when I realized that I couldn’t do it. Jack was trying to save me, and I was trying to save him.
Determination sprang up my spine. I moved closer to his door, trying to get out of the rain, and sat down. About an hour passed. The eaves weren’t wide enough to keep me dry. My numb eyes stared at the rain, falling from heaven, washing away everything that hurt me. Thoughts drifted into my mind, and I wondered what I’d do if Jack opened the door and turned me away. Refusing to sign those papers was suicide, but it felt like I was already dead. The wind blew, pelting the cold water into my face. My head was against the jam, coat pulled up around my neck, pressing my face away from the wind, toward the door when the knob turned. Jack pulled the door open and I fell backward into the room, soaking wet.
For a moment, I lay on my back, stunned, looking up into his sad eyes. “Abby,” was all he said as he stepped over me.
There was a moment after I stood up when I just stared at him before I found my voice. I found a part of me that I didn’t know I had. It was ferocious and scared the hell out of me. Maybe it was my fight or flight instinct kicking in. I don’t know, but what I did know was that I wasn’t giving Jack up without a fight.
Folding my arms across my chest, I repressed a shiver, saying, “Send me away, Jack. Lie to my face. Tell me that you did horrible things when I know you didn’t. I’ll just come back...” my teeth were chattering. The muscle in my jaw tensed trying to control it. “I promised I wouldn’t leave you. I’m not breaking my promise to save my own ass.”
Jack’s lips parted like he was going to say something, but Phil’s black car zoomed into the parking lot and stopped in front of us. Jack glanced at me one last time before he pulled the motel door shut. Brushing past me, heading directly for the car door Phil kicked open from inside. Jack leaned into the car and emerged with a manila envelope. Without a word, he tossed it to me. Stunned at his cold behavior, I fumbled it and nearly dropped the thing on the wet ground. Clutching it, I looked down at the package. It was getting soaked.
Jack glared at me, his eyes filled with loathing, “Sign it. Get this back to Phil by tonight. There’s no silver lining. There’s no other way out. We’re through, Abby.” There was no bite in his voice. It almost sounded like an apology. His eyes locked with mine, staring vacantly, “I used you. Get over it.” He turned his back to me and slid into Phil’s car. The door slammed and they drove away, leaving me sopping wet, standing in the parking lot of the Econolodge with a yellow envelope as my only salvation.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Kate used vacation days to stay with me. Or maybe she didn’t want to shove her way through the paparazzi. Anyway, she was home and awake when I trudged in soaked to the bone.
Her dark hair was tied in a knot, forming a make-shift ponytail of sorts. She wore gray sweats and fuzzy socks, opposed to her normally perfectly pressed work attire. She was munching on a bowl of Cheerios. “Tell me you didn’t.” Her spoon stopped half way to her mouth as she stared, slack jawed at my drowned rat look. Hastily, she put her bowl down and ran over to me, “Abby, that ass doesn’t deserve this kind of loyalty from you.” She took my hand, and started peeling me out of my soaked jacket, “You’re frozen!” Her hands grabbed my wrist, feeling how cold my skin was. “Shit, Abby. You’ll catch your death!”
While she scolded me for being so stupid, I stared blankly. My mind was reeling, working double time. I felt like I was missing something. Before I knew what was happening, Kate was snapping her fingers under my nose, trying to get my attention. “What?” I asked like she hadn’t said a word.
She cocked her head at me, concern on her face, “When are you going to see the way the world works? Your entire life has been like this—one train wreck after another. You can’t walk around trying to save everyone. It only ensures a short and painful life for you.” She threw a blanket over my shoulders. Nodding her head, she indicated that I should follow her down the hall. Kate pushed open the bathroom door and turned on the shower. Within seconds steam filled the air and my shivering lessened.
I rolled my eyes, “You sound like my mother.”
“Good!” she huffed, hands on her hips. “Then maybe I’ll get through to you!”
Kate meant well, but she didn’t know. My family looked picture perfect on the outside, but on the inside it was an all-American mess. “That wasn’t a compliment. My mother was faithfully silent, moving through life trying to make the least amount of waves possible. Someone wronged her, she looked the other way. Someone hurt me, she didn’t make a sound. Nothing, Kate. She didn’t lift a finger when my Dad was drunk out of his mind, his hand smashing into my face. Why do you think I was allowed to stay at your house so much? It was the road of least conflict for her. She was a coward, Kate. That’s why she’s dead. That’s why I don’t have her anymore. It wasn’t a fluke that my Dad was drunk when their car crashed. I’m just glad they didn’t kill anyone else.” My words were cold, and bitter. Kate’s eyes widened as I spoke. She had no idea, and I’d never told her.
