Stay (21 page)

“Okay,” I said and leaned over to give Rosie another pet. We worked in silence, both of us taking breaks to play with and pet Rosie. The temperature continued to drop as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky. I was digging up the roots on bush number two when the front door opened.

Nate stepped onto the porch. He opened his mouth to bark an order at us but stopped when he saw Rosie.

“Where the hell did that thing come from?” he asked, his nostrils flaring with disgust.

“She just wandered here,” Jackson stated his voice breathy from the constant digging.

“Make it go away.”

Jackson threw his arms at Rosie. “Shoo,” he said. Rosie stood and wagged her tail. Nate narrowed his eyes. Rosie dropped down on her front legs, her butt in the air, and yipped at Jackson, wanting to play. “Shhh,” Jackson said, his eyes wide. “Rosie, be quiet!” he whispered. She barked again and ran through the dead flower garden.

“I don’t want that thing hanging around,” Nate stated. He stepped off the porch, reached inside his jacket, and pulled out a shiny metal handgun.

“No!” I shouted right away. “Don’t shoot her!”

Nate leaned back and laughed. “I wasn’t going to,” he said and held the gun in the air, showing me that he was just going to shoot straight up to scare her away. “But now I have a better idea. Jackson,” he said and pressed something on the gun. The clip slid out and he started removing bullets until just one remained. “Shoot the dog.”

“What?” I blurted, my heart dropping into a bucket of ice. “No. She's innocent. Sh-she didn’t do anything!”

“She’ll leave on her own. Stray dogs don’t stay in one place,” he tried. His chest rose and fell rapidly. “She won’t stay.”

“That’s beside the point,” Nate said smugly. He walked down the cobblestone path. Rosie ran over, excited to greet a new person. He kicked her.

“Stop!” I cried at the same time Rosie yelped. She looked at Nate, trying to figure out what she had done to upset him. “Stop it! She’s just an animal!” The shovel slipped from my hands, and I rushed over to Rosie, protectively wrapping my arms around her.

Nate grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled. Jackson raised his shovel. His body tensed and he jerked forward. Nate raised the gun, pointing it at Jackson.

“Drop the shovel, Jackson,” Nate said so calmly his tone edged on boredom.
 

Jackson’s eyes flew from the gun to me. Nate tightened his grip on my hair. I gritted my teeth against the pain. Looking defeated, Jackson let the shovel fall from his hands.
 

“Move over there,” Nate said and used the gun to point to the path. Jackson stepped over the bushes and stopped on the cobblestone. “Get up, Adeline,” he ordered.
 

I pushed myself up. Nate pressed the gun to the back of my neck. Terror paralyzed me. I looked at Jackson and felt tears well in my eyes. My breath clouded the air as I shakily exhaled. Nate reached inside his jacket and pulled something out. I heard a metallic click and. He stepped closer and removed the gun, only to place a cold metal blade against my neck.

“Jackson, shoot the dog.” He extended his other hand, holding the gun by the barrel. “You so much as point the gun at me, I’ll slit her throat.”

My body shook. I was scared to breathe, afraid the slightest movement could cause the knife the cut open my skin. It would take less than a minute to die.

“Jackson!” Nate bellowed, causing me to jump. The sharp blade bit into my neck. Stiffly, Jackson walked over. He took the gun from Nate. “Her blood will be on your hands,” Nate reminded him. “Shoot the dog and throw the body in the woods.”
 

Jackson nodded, his mouth opening in horror. He blinked and turned to Rosie.

“Come here, girl,” he said softly.

Hot tears slid down my cheeks. A knot formed in my chest, painfully squeezing my heart. How could Nate do this? Not only to Rosie but also to us. Rosie jumped at Jackson. She was so innocent. She did nothing wrong.
 

A tremble ran down my spine. I clenched my jaw, terrified of moving and having the cold sharp metal cut into my skin. Jackson took a step away from us. Rosie followed, tail wagging as if she was playing a game. All she had done was give me a few minutes of happiness, and now she was going to die.
 

Jackson’s eyes met mine, pleading. I held his gaze, his face blurry through my tears. I wanted him to know it wasn’t his fault, that I wouldn’t blame him for what was going to happen. He turned his head down, his brow pushed together. He didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to take away the one thing that had made me happy.

But he didn’t want me to die, to watch the blood spray from my neck and my lifeless body crumble onto the cold hard ground. He swallowed, jaw quivering. He turned and cocked the gun. I closed my eyes, imagining where Jackson was, and began counting.

One, two, three
…

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I KNEW IT was coming, but my body flinched at the sound of the gunshot. My tense body pressed backward into Nate. Rosie’s final yelp resonated, breaking my heart. Nate twisted the blade so the flat end was against my skin. He pressed it into my throat before slowly dragged it away. He suddenly released me, shoving me forward. I fell, my knees hitting the hard stone path.
 

Jackson stood frozen with horror, the smoking gun still raised in his hands. His body swayed, and I could hear his rapid breathing as he stared at Rosie’s body. His arms faltered, and his hands dropped to his sides. Nate strode past, pushing me over. I fell onto my side.

I planted my hand against the ground and started to push myself up. The breath caught in my chest, and it hurt to breathe. Rosie was dead. Nate forced Jackson to murder a harmless animal. I looked up and Jackson. He was so dejected, so ashamed of himself. He still hadn’t moved from where he had been standing. He turned, his mouth was slightly open in shock, and his brown eyes were misty.

Nate laughed, flipping the switchblade opened and closed. He walked over to Jackson and took the gun from his hands.

“Get back to work,” he snarled.

Jackson blinked and snapped his hand back, recoiling from Nate’s touch. Suddenly Jackson’s demeanor went from despondent to angry. Very angry. Nate’s smug face went blank. His eyes widened when Jackson pushed past him.

“Jackson!” Nate snapped. But Jackson didn’t listen. He rushed to me, dropping to his knees. With tears in my eyes I turned my head up to him.

“Addie,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I opened my mouth to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but my words twisted into a sob, and I pitched forward. Jackson put his hand on my arm, gently pushing me upright. Without even thinking about it, I threw my arms around him. His body stiffened, and he put his arms out by his sides, unsure of what to do. Cautiously, he bent his elbows and placed his palms on my back.

I buried my head into his shoulder, crying. He tightened his embrace. His arms around me were so comforting, so reassuring, so
needed
.

“I told you to get back to work!” Nate growled and stormed over. He grabbed a tangle of Jackson’s hair and yanked. Not balanced, Jackson tumbled back off of his knees. I went with him and awkwardly landed on top of him. Nate reached down and grabbed my shoulders. He shoved me back.

It took a great amount of energy to pull myself to my feet. I turned and faced Nate. “You’re a monster,” I said through clenched teeth. As if he didn’t even hear me, Nate walked back to the porch. He put his hand on the keypad, punched in the combination, and walked into the house.

“I’m really sorry, Addie,” Jackson said again as he stood, unable to meet my eyes.

I wiped tears from my face. “It’s not your fault,” I sniffled. “Don’t apologize.” I shot a look at the house. I picked dry leaves from my hair and blotted my nose with the sleeve of the jacket. I took in a shaky breath. The cold air rushed through me, stinging my broken heart. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the spot where Rosie lay.

Jackson took off his jacket and covered the dog. Then he picked up his shovel and walked to the side of the porch.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m going to bury her.”

I nodded, blinking away the tears that were still coming, and picked up my shovel. Together, we silently dug a hole just deep enough to hold Rosie’s body. I turned away when Jackson scooped her up.

“I’ll finish it, Addie,” he said gently. I didn’t want to make him do all the work, but I couldn’t turn around.
 

“It’s done,” he said when he had piled the dirt back into the hole. I turned around. Pain stabbed me when I looked at the fresh grave.
 

“Thank you,” I said through chattering teeth.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“I think so.” I was sure I had to be cold. I was just too numb to be able to tell anything at that moment. “You have to be too.” His coat was still on the ground.

“Digging warmed me up.”

I nodded. “Should we finish?” I waved my hand at the bushes.

“Yeah. You don’t have to. I’ll do it.”

No
, I told myself and picked up the shovel. I rammed it into the hard ground, pretending it was Nate’s abdomen. I wasn’t going to give up and fall apart. I was going to escape and turn Nate in. I had to. I needed to.
 

Jackson let his shovel fall and bent over. He grabbed the bush and pulled. I snapped out of my dark reverie and moved over. Channeling my rage, I hacked at the roots, and the bush broke free. Jackson stumbled back, not expecting it to come loose so easily. He tossed the bush aside and picked up his shovel again.
 

The front door opened again. Nate stepped out. He was wearing a different outfit and looked just as well put together as before in a pristinely pressed black and gray suit with a satin blue tie. “Inside,” he ordered and slammed the door shut.

Jackson took the shovel from me. I followed him around the house and into the shed, not speaking. I stepped aside and watched him lock the shed doors, then walked close to his side as we went back around the house.

We went into the garage and stomped the mud off of our boots. Jackson turned to me. Our eyes met, and suddenly I wanted him to wrap his arms around me in another comforting embrace. My heart sped up. He opened his mouth to say something else when a car pulled into the driveway, the bright lights illuminating the interior of the garage.
 

“Zane,” he mumbled and punched in the code. He opened the door and held out his arm, signaling me to enter first. I hurried into the house, removing the gloves and jacket. Jackson followed me to the basement door.

“I’ll bring food down later,” he told me.
 

I nodded and looked into his eyes. I didn’t want to go downstairs. I didn’t want to be away from Jackson. The garage door slammed shut, reminding me that Zane was back. I didn’t want to see him, either.

I walked down the stairs and collapsed onto my cot. I cried for a while before rolling over, thinking about the comfort Jackson’s embrace had brought. I held onto the memory, remembering the warmth of his arms. I began to feel sleepy when the basement door opened. I sat up, expecting Jackson.

Instead, I saw one of the last things I expected: Rochelle coming down the stairs with three full shopping bags in each hand. The sound of female voices echoed down the stairs.

“I’ll be right up!” Rochelle shouted over her shoulder. She bustled past me and threw the bags onto the card table.

“Who is that?” I asked, my eyes lingering on the stairwell.

“Friends,” she said casually.
 

“You have friends?” I blurted.

She raised her eyebrows. “Of course I have friends,” she snapped.

I pressed my lips together and nodded. Rochelle rubbed the red marks the heavy shopping bags had left on her arms and hurried back up the stairs. The basement door clicked shut. I waited for the locks to slide into place. When they didn’t, I got up and crept up the stairs. I put my hand on the doorknob and twisted.

It was locked, but the deadbolts weren’t. Had Rochelle forgotten, or did she not want her ‘friends’ seeing her lock the door? I shook my head and went back down the stairs. I moved to the card table and investigated the shopping bags. I picked up a white bag with black handles, recognizing the logo right away. Two expensive sweaters were neatly folded on top of a pair of jeans that cost as much as the two sweaters combined. I peered inside a brown bag next, which was full of t-shirts and tank tops. A small, black bag had pretty multicolored gemstone necklaces wrapped in white and gold tissue paper, and the other three bags housed shoes.

I opened a pink shoebox and held up a neon green stiletto. I was about to drop it back into the box when I noticed it was a size five. None of us, not even petite Phoebe, wore shoes that small. I turned and looked at the stairs. Was this stuff bought for the girls Rochelle called her friends?
 

“Why?” I asked aloud. I set the shoes down and went back to my cot. I wrapped my arms around myself and wished Phoebe was here. I pulled the quilt around my shoulders and lay down. I drifted into a light sleep. I dreamed that Jackson took me around the farmhouse to the shed, saying he had a surprise for me. When he opened the shed doors, I was looking at my house.

“Addie,” he said in the dream. I turned to look at him. “Addie,” he repeated.
 

I startled awake and heard my name again, that time for real.
 

“Sorry,” Jackson said and looked down. “Did I wake you?”

“Yeah,” I said, seeing no sense in lying.
 

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled. “I hope you weren’t having a good dream.”

“Of course not,” I said, lying that time. I knew Jackson would feel bad if I told him the truth. I sat up and ran my hands over my messy hair, pushing it out of my face. “Who are those girls upstairs?”

Jackson frowned. “Zane’s newest recruits.”

“Recruits?” I asked.

Jackson nodded and sat on the cot next to mine. “Every once in a while he goes out, usually to the mall, and sweet talks a few girls into working for him.”