Jaded (14 page)

The guys always ordered the same thing. With the quick order, we usually got our food faster than the customers who’d already ordered before us.

Just then Corrigan dropped into the one empty seat nearest the aisle. He sighed dramatically and looked irritated.

Chet, Holster, and Harris quieted.

Bryce and I shared a look before I ventured, “What’d you do?”

Corrigan ignored me and griped, “Did you order already? Where the hell are our drinks?”

“Dude,” Bryce said quietly, watching. “We just got here.”

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Corrigan swore and turned his chair around to straddle it. He looked a bit frazzled, but it was the anger in his tone that made my knot of dread double in size.

“What’d you do?” I asked again.

He ignored me again and asked abruptly, “What free stuff did you get us?”

I gave him a pointed look.

“I didn’t do anything.” He cursed. “Back off.”

If anyone except Bryce had spoken to me like that, Corrigan would’ve been the first to throw a punch.

I never needed his protection before and I didn’t need it now.

I slid a knife out from the silverware wrapped in a cloth napkin and stabbed it in his chair’s cushion, right between his legs.

Corrigan yelped and jumped off the seat. Startled, he cursed some more before he settled back in his chair, now watchful.

He

snapped,

“What?!”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

“Are you going to jail for it?” Bryce asked instead.

“No. No jail.” Corrigan answered Bryce and looked at me. “And I’ll tell you later.

It’s not dinner talk, you know.”

Fine.

Marcus brought the drinks and two orders of breadsticks. He grabbed another

drink for Corrigan and said, with his head hung downwards, that he’d put in Corrigan’s order too.

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Corrigan ignored him and downed my drink. He stood up and refilled it behind the cook’s doorway.

Marcus stood helpless behind him.

Corrigan returned to the table and sat it in front of me.

“You’re a jerk,” I murmured.

Corrigan shrugged, but he patted my knee underneath the table.

“So we got a game going.” Chet spoke up and the conversation was off and

running. Corrigan lapped it up. He wanted a distraction from whatever he didn’t want to talk about.

A few minutes later, Marcus brought the drinks and our food wasn’t too far

behind. I sat back and poked at my salad as the guys talked more about soccer and Harris’ party. They started planning an elaborate drinking game that consisted of a chart with relays when my phone rang.

I didn’t recognize the number so I answered.

“Hi, sweetie,” my mother’s sickening sweet voice drawled across the other end.

I stilled and asked, tensely, “What do you want?”

“I wanted to let you know my new number, sweetie. You should’ve gotten my

message, but I know you don’t always think to check the house’s line.”

Her voice disgusted me and I had to take a deep breath to clear the nausea.

“Fine.” It was all I could manage out as I choked on the inside.

“Honey.” Only my mother could make concern sound like contempt. Not to

mention condescension.

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“I’m fine. Really.” I gripped the phone harder, but I knew my face looked fine, probably a little bored.

“Do we need to talk about this? I want you to know, Sheldon Eva, that I am your mother and I love you very much.”

Funny. She sounded like she’d been drinking.

She continued, “This is for the best. It really is. Your father and I just reached a point in the marriage when it was time to part ways.”

“Did you sleep with someone?” It’s something she’d do.

“Sweetie.” Sharon hadn’t liked that. She heaved a dramatic sigh. “Are you angry with me? This really is for the best. A harmonious parental unit benefits the child better.

Neil and I were not harmonious. This is for you really, honey, more than your father and myself.”

“What?” My eyes went cold. “Did you pick up that language in therapy?”

She was quiet for a moment and then said stiffly, “Your father and I did try some marital counseling.”

“You went once and said it wasn’t for you?” I guessed.

“Sheldon, you need to watch your tone with me.”

“I am watching, Sharon. My tone is completely calm and ladylike. I am not

angry,” I bit out. “I am not bitter,” I spat. “I am not sad,” I chewed out. “And I am most certainly not feeling abandoned at all.” I finished with a smile.

She drew a sharp breath and said flatly, “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

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“Sure you do,” I said smoothly.

“I really do. I’ll see you over the holidays.”

“You’re coming home for Thanksgiving?”

“Yes. I’ll need to pack my things and look for a new home.”

“And who’ll be looking with you?”

“You don’t need to worry about that. Just a little friend.”

So she
had
slept with someone.

I asked, “You’re still sleeping with him?”

She sucked in her breath again and admonished, “Sheldon Eva, I will not put up with your tone of voice any longer. You are to respect your mother. This is hard on all of us, trust me, but I think it’s a bit more tiring on your father and myself. You’ve told us many times to get a divorce.”

“Great, mom. So you’re just fulfilling one of my wishes.” If I could cut glass with my voice, it would’ve happened then and there.

She sighed, sounding rightfully tiresome. I rolled my eyes.

“Have you heard from your father?”

“Yes.” I didn’t share our conversation.

“Is he well?” Sharon really wanted to know what he’d said and if I loved him more than her.

“He is well.” And I’ll let you worry if I love my father more than you. You

deserve it.

“Alright, well…I love you, sweetie.”

I hung up.

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The table had fallen silent throughout my entire conversation. I didn’t need to look to know that Bryce and Corrigan were both watching like hawks.

I breathed out one clear breath and stood up.

“Where you going?” Corrigan said quickly.

“I’m going home.” The calm was forced in my voice. I knew my eyes spoke

volumes, but only to Corrigan and Bryce.

“Sheldon…” Bryce murmured.

“I’m fine. I’m going home to do schoolwork. Beg off…please.” The request was sincere.

The guys took it as such and both remained in their seats.

The drive was too short for me. I had plenty to stew over and my hands shook as I parked in the garage and hit the button to close the garage door. I didn’t look for any more notes or messages as I made a beeline for the case of beer still on the kitchen table.

I dropped my purse and at the same time I uncapped a beer. I downed that one and did another.

With three clenched in my fingers, I moved into my father’s study. I decided to start with the computer and I effectively deleted every single business document he had kept as a reserve on the home computer. After I made another search, I emptied the trash can and then removed the hard-drive.

From the hidden liquor cabinet, I placed all the liquor bottles on his desk. When that was done, I grabbed a poker stick from the fireplace and swung it hard at every crystal vase in the library, every picture frame, every and anything that would break. I left Tijan Jaded

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the couches and chairs untouched and moved into my parent’s bedroom with a bottle of bourbon in my hand.

With a knife in hand, I visited the closets and slashed the most expensive clothing.

I threw all of Sharon’s undergarments and lingerie into a box that’d go to a local thrift store. Neil’s tuxedos were next for the knife. And all of the neckties, socks, and suits went into the thrift store box.

I ripped his shirts to pieces and let them fall on the floor.

The shoes—they’d started to go a little blurry by that time so I left them in one piece.

I laid on the couch in one of the rarely-used sitting rooms and thought I might save my mother a trip. I could hire some movers to pack it all up. She needn’t bothered.

I’d decided to divorce my parents in turn, not like they’d even notice.

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When I woke up, I heard my cell phone beeping first. Bryce and Corrigan had

called. And then I realized I heard scuffling from the inside of the house.

I glanced at the clock in the sitting room and saw it was 2:54 in the morning.

No doubt the scuffling was from the guys. They must’ve come looking for me.

Yawning, I made my way slowly down the back hallway. I knew it by heart so I left the lights untouched. Even though it was nighttime, the moonlight filtered in through the windows and lit the side hallways that ran around the house. I passed our backdoor and I was able to see the bench that ran the entire length of the wall. My mom had stored various items into bins that were all underneath that bench.

The dining room opened onto the kitchen. There were two hallways that

connected to the dining room. I had walked down the side hallway that’s never used.

So it was a bit disconcerting when I walked into the dining room and saw a man in the kitchen.

I didn’t recognize him and he didn’t know I was there. I had walked silently, like I always do, but the guy wasn’t Bryce or Corrigan. He wasn’t my father. And I hoped he wasn’t my mom’s newest bedmate.

Just then a walkie-talkie that was attached to his belt crackled to life. “Jimmy, are we clear?”

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The guy snatched the radio from his belt’s holster and answered, “That’s a right-o, Jimmy John. We are in the clear.”

“You’ve checked your entire section.”

Jimmy sighed impatiently and snapped into the radio, “What did I just say? Did I not say that we are in the clear? That’s a right-o.”

It was surreal. He stood in the moonlight with his back turned to me and he was shifting through my kitchen’s drawers. I stood thirty feet from him, five feet from my doorway.

If he had looked, I might’ve resembled a ghost.

My heart pounded in my ears and I stepped slowly, silently, backwards. He kept shuffling through the drawers and I kept reversing until I was hidden in the hallway. At the back door, I took a calming breath and kneeled on the floor. Blindly I felt around until I found the flap that kept our security keypad hidden from eyesight.

I coded in the alarm and a second later, an earsplitting alarm sounded throughout my home.

Jimmy cursed savagely. And I heard more curses and shouts.

“Jimmy, what the hell happened? That code came from your section. We aren’t

clear. We aren’t clear!”

Jimmy dropped whatever had been in his hands and a second later, I heard his pounding footsteps on the floor.

He searched the dining room. I could see his shadow get bigger until it engulfed where I had kneeled.

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I scooted back until I was curled in a small hole just underneath the bench, in between two of the bins.

Jimmy couldn’t have seen me unless he walked into the back hallway and knelt literally right in front of me.

“There’s an entire hallway back here,” he cursed to himself.

He swept a flashlight beam up and down the hallway. It hit on some of the bins and just as he started down the hallway, his radio crackled, “The police are coming. We have to go, Jimmy.”

Jimmy continued to curse, but turned and sprinted from the hallway. It only took another second until the front door slammed shut and I heard two pairs of vehicles squeal from my driveway.

I slowly crawled back from my hiding spot. My legs trembled so much, I couldn’t quite stand so I crawled to one of the windows and pulled back the curtain.

I saw a lone figure dart across my yard, but it paused just before the shadows. It turned and I swear that it looked right at me. Startled, I dropped the curtain back in place and scooted into my hiding spot. I hugged my knees and rested my forehead against them until I heard my doorbell ringing.

My heart still pounded in my ear, but I was able to hear the doorbell.

Glancing up, feeling the blood drained from my face, I felt like weeping in relief when I saw the circling red lights of the police.

They rang the doorbell again and then knocked on the door with their batons.

It took me longer than normal because my legs were so unsteady, but I finally opened the door for them.

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There were two of them. One was an older muscular guy that was balding on the head. His partner was a young blonde female. Both looked fit. That was my first thought, but then I looked again and saw the grave expressions on their faces. The female stepped forward and asked, “Miss, we got a call from your security company. Can you tell us why it went off?”

The male stepped back and raised a hand to the radio he had clipped to his

shoulder. I heard him requesting back-up officers.

“I…,” I had to cough and clear my voice. “I…there were men in my home and I

was the one who set the alarm.”

“Are men still in your home, Miss?”

“No.” I shook my head. “They heard the alarm and left.”

“Could we do a quick search, Ma’am?”

I nodded and stepped from the front door onto the patio as both of them moved inside cautiously with their guns drawn and ready beside their hips.

It seemed forever, but the alarm was silenced and the female officer returned.

“My name is Officer Patterson. You can call me Sheila, if you’d like.”

I nodded and sunk onto one of the patio loungers.

She stood above me. “Can you tell me what happened?”

I told her most of it. I left out the details about my mother, but I told them I had trashed most of my parent’s belongings in the office and bedroom.