Unbreakable Page 16

  Crossing her bedroom floor, I see a few small boxes resting at the foot of her bed. Most of her room has been packed up with only a few pictures remaining on a bulletin board above her desk. I gently pull the blanket from the bottom of her bed and place it over her curled up body. Watching her sleep was one of my favorite things to do, the look of contentment on her face, the way her lips twitch when she dreams. I’d lay with her, wrapped in my arms, and watch her sleep for hours. Those memories now nearly kill me as I lie in my cold bed alone every night. Leaning down I brush her soft brown hair gently on the pillow and softly plant one last kiss on top of her head as I whisper, “I love you,” one last time.

  Closing the door behind me, I lock it and place the hidden key back in the planter. The back of my eyes sting with the tears that I’ve been fighting back as I walk away from her house for the last time. Ava is sitting on our front steps, waiting for me all bundled up with a blanket wrapped around her.

  “What are you doing up?” I ask her quietly, knowing that it’s well past two o’clock in the morning.

  “I came to your room to talk to you and see how you were, but you were gone. I knew you could have only gone one place, so I waited for you,” she answers quietly.

  Exhaling a deep breath, I stand with my hands tucked into my pockets. I have been so wrapped up in my own emotions that I forgot that Ava is losing her best friend when Jess leaves tomorrow.

  “How are you holding up?” I ask as Ava shrugs underneath the blanket she’s wrapped in.

  “I just wish she would talk to me, that’s all. I just want to understand why she’s leaving and where she’s going,” she says.

  “Me too, Ava. Me too.”

  “What were you doing over there?”

  “I stuck a letter in her purse.”

  “You broke into her house to put a letter in her purse?”

  “I didn’t break in, Ava. I wanted to put it in her car, but she locked the door. So I used the spare key and let myself in so I could put it in her purse.”

  “That’s breaking in.”

  I can’t help but laugh a little at my sister.

  “Sit down.” She pats the concrete steps of our front patio. She offers me part of her blanket, but I shake my head no.

  Ava and I sit for hours watching the house across the street for any signs of movement. The morning sun is just about to rise when Ava stands up and hands me her blanket.

  “I need to go inside,” she whispers.

  “Why?”

  “I can’t watch her leave.” Her eyes are full of unshed tears. I nod my head as she quietly opens the front door and leaves me alone on the steps. I continue to sit and watch for another half hour or so when Chief’s truck pulls into the driveway. As he’s getting out of his truck the front door opens, and Jess steps outside. Walking to the end of the driveway, her purse is slung over her shoulder, and her car keys are in her hand.

  I feel bad watching them talk, even though I don’t know what’s being said. I’m just glad I finally see Chief hug Jess. I can’t remember him ever hugging her—hell, I don’t remember him ever touching her. He walks Jess to her car and opens the door for her. My heart falls to my stomach when I see her slide into the driver’s seat.

  “Don’t go,” I whisper. “Love me enough to stay.”

  I see a few more words exchanged between Jess and Chief, and then her car backs slowly out of the driveway. Chief stands watching Jess; his shoulders slumped forward with a small, straight smile on his face. I can’t watch as she drives away. My head falls, and my chest is constricts. Tears are threatening to spill out of my eyes as I focus on the cement stairs I’m sitting on, while the SUV that has my heart is driving away.

  I heard her car pull away about fifteen minutes ago, yet here I sit. Hoping that this is a dream, and that when I wake up, her SUV will be sitting in her driveway where she’s parked it every day since Chief bought it for her. Standing up, I glance across the street to her house one last time before opening the front door to my house. Ava is sitting on the couch, staring out the front window with Mom and Dad on each side of her. Everyone’s eyes shift to me as I enter. I swallow hard, and force out the only two words that I know I can speak in this moment, “She’s gone.”

  The sun seeps through the sheer white curtains that hang over the floor to ceiling windows in the condo I’m renting. The entire wall of the master bedroom is one giant window with a sliding glass door in the middle that opens to let in the fresh air off the Atlantic Ocean. Stepping out of bed, I walk over to the floor-length curtains and pull them all the way open. The sun is bright and high in the sky and is reflecting off of the small waves of the ocean.

  Opening the sliding glass door, I step out onto the patio and take a seat in a tall wrought iron chair that is part of a bistro set on the small patio. Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply for what seems like the first time in weeks. I feel the air surge deep into my lungs, and I can almost taste the salt in the heavy, humid air. I love the smell of the water and the sand. My mind wanders to all of the errands I need to get done today. My short-lived reprieve on the patio is over when I realize that the better part of my day will be spent getting shit done.

  Closing the patio door behind me, I look around the mess that is my new room. Aside from all the boxes and my large suitcase, the room is modern and decorated gorgeously. There is a large king-size bed that is centered on the main wall. The walls are painted light cream, and the deep, rich purple bedding is made of raw silk. The dark hardwood floors are covered by a cream throw rug that the bed sits on. I tackle making the bed first. I’m a creature of routine. Making my bed was always the first thing I did at home, and it will be the first thing I do here too.

  Tucking the sheets, and pulling the comforter up the large bed, I think about Gabe and how much he’d love this room. This room reminds me of the weekend we spent in Santa Barbara and how we loved to stand on the patio and watch the ocean. Thoughts of him are never far from me. I miss his smile, his hugs, and his touch. I miss the comfort that was us. His gorgeous face is burned into my memory.

  I know I need to let my thoughts of him go, but my first night in a new city, in a new home, I needed a piece of him with me. I wore his navy blue Santa Ruiz Fire Department issued t-shirt. I always wore one of his t-shirts to bed, and I somehow inherited this particular one. It was a piece of home, a piece of my heart, and I needed to wear it last night.

  Walking down the stairs, I deposit myself into the modern living room. Kevin has set me up well in this gorgeous condo. I circle the breakfast bar that separates the kitchen from the family room and find my way to the coffee pot that is seated on the counter next to the refrigerator. Rummaging through the pantry, I find the coffee filters and a package of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee grounds, and I remind myself to thank Kevin for supplying me the essentials.

  Preparing the automatic coffee maker, I turn it on and run up the stairs to quickly shower. Pulling the t-shirt over my head, I set it on the granite bathroom countertops. I step into the gorgeous tiled master shower and let the hot water pelt my skin. I finish quickly and wrap myself in an oversize bath towel, hand drying my hair with another towel.

  My clothes are still in my suitcase, except for the dirty ones discarded in a pile on the bathroom counter, so I stay wrapped in my towel and traipse back downstairs. The coffee is done brewing, and I grab an oversized mug, just my style, and fill it up. I check the refrigerator for creamer, and find none. Dammit. Black it is today.

  Sitting down at the breakfast bar, with my giant mug of coffee, I look around the lonely condo. Or maybe it’s me that’s lonely. But isn’t that what I wanted? To run? To escape? To start over? To be alone?

  Knock, knock, knock…

  Jumping from the barstool, I realize I am still wrapped in a towel. Shit!

  “Um, give me just a minute,” I shout at the door, taking the stairs two at a time. I realize as I’m at the top of the stairs that there is a glass panel in the center of the door, and whoever
is outside probably saw me running up the stairs. Tossing the towel to the floor, I run into the bathroom and grab Gabe’s t-shirt off of the counter, tossing it back on, I grab my dirty khaki shorts off the floor and pull them on too, buttoning them as I’m running back down the stairs.

  Opening the condo door, there are two police officers standing there.

  “Can I help you?” I say as I try to remain calm but wondering why the hell there are two policemen at my door.

  “Miss,” The tall, sandy brown haired officer drawls. “Ms. Garcia?” he says questioningly looking at my shirt with the name across my upper chest.

  Throwing my hand across the name, I shake my head at him. “No, I’m Harper. Jessica Harper.”

  “Do you own that white Acura SUV with California plates parked in the spot marked 101?”

  “Yes, is there a problem? This is my condo, and that’s the spot that is registered to this condo,” I say accusingly.

  “No problem. We were patrolling the parking lot late last night and noticed you left the interior light on. Wanted to let you know before it drained your battery.”

  “Are you serious?” I actually laugh at the two of them. In California, the police have obviously more pressing matters than alerting idiots that they left interior lights on in their car. I’m still chuckling as I walk to my purse that is on the small kitchen table. Reaching in, I grab my keys and walk back to the door. Slipping on my flip-flops, I step outside the condo and into the front walkway that leads down to the parking lot.

  Closing my door to the condo, I see that the second officer who was standing at my door is now gone and most likely back in the patrol car. “I’m Officer Christianson, sorry to have disturbed you, Ms. Harper.” He’s smirking. That asshole has a smirk on his face, his gorgeous, chiseled face. I know I shouldn’t be looking at him like that, and I feel guilty for doing it, but he is striking.

  “You didn’t disturb me. You just caught me off guard,” I reply, walking as fast as I can away from this beautiful stranger. Using the key fob, I unlock the doors and open the driver’s side front door. I reach in and turn the switch to shut off the inside light. Officer Christianson found his way right up to my open door and planted himself between the open door and the body of the car, trapping me between him and the interior of my car. “How did you even see that light on?” I question him. Turning around and narrowing my eyes on him. He shakes his head slightly, chuckling at me.

  “Saw it last night. We didn’t want to wake the owner, ahem, you, up at three o’clock in the morning when we first saw it, so we stopped by on our way back to the station at the end of our shift, which is right now.”

  God I feel stupid.

  “Well, um, thank you…officer…”

  “Christianson, Landon Christianson.” He reaches out his hand to shake mine. The distance between us is small, but I offer him my hand and slide it into his. I notice right away how large his hands are and how firm his hand shake is. Holding onto my hand a bit longer than a stranger shaking hands should, I gently tug my hand out of his and place it back to my side.

  My eyes focus not on his hands, but on the muscles of his forearm. This guy is built. Not big but defined. You can see every ridge of muscle in his arms. Following the length of his arm, I notice a tattoo that starts at his elbow, and just peeks out from under the sleeve of his uniform. I’m curious what it is and how far it goes up. I swallow tightly, making eye contact with those piercing blue eyes again.

  Landon tilts his head slightly at me. The corners of his lips turn just slightly upward. Shit. He noticed me checking him out. “You just move here?” he asks.

  “Yep. Yesterday,” I say, pushing past him as I walk away from those blue eyes and that dangerous smile.

  Standing with his hands on his hips, showing off his well-defined arms, Landon flashes me a sexy smile. “Well, welcome to Wilmington, Jessica. Jessica Harper.” God that man is sinful, every last inch of him.

  “Thanks,” I mutter to myself, walking back to my condo. I think I’m going to like Wilmington.

  Sliding into the passenger seat of our patrol car, my partner, Matt, looks at me and shakes his head. “She’s not your type man, leave that one alone.”

  “You never know bro. She may like what I have to offer.”

  Matt knows about me, about my preferences. I like to be in control. I like it how I want it and when I want it. And right now, I want Jessica. Jessica Harper from California.

  “She’s young, you saw her. Don’t go there, Landon.”

  “She’s of age.”

  “Really? That’s all you care about? She’s of age? So you’ll fuck her a few times and not worry about it because she’s of age?”

  “Uh, yeah. That’s what I do.”

  “You’re a real asshole sometimes, you know that?”

  “Tell me something I don’t know, Matty.”

  Pulling out of the parking lot of her condo complex, I can’t help but wonder how in the hell Matt ever saw that damn overhead light on in her car. When I ran her plates, and the picture of her on her driver’s record flashed across my screen, I saw something I needed to have. Something in her eyes, in her small smile, called to me. Jessica Louise Harper would be mine.

  “Want to grab breakfast before we head home?” Matt asks.

  Looking out my window, I lose myself in thoughts of Jessica. I can’t shake her round green eyes, her long tan legs, and the way her hips swayed when she walked towards her car.

  “Sure, let’s grab breakfast.”

  There is silence as Matt drives us the few miles back to our station. Pulling into the side parking lot, Matt rolls down his window and punches the code into the key pad that opens the security gate where we park our patrol cars. Pulling into our assigned spot, I pop the laptop out of the docking station and open my door.

  Matt hollers over the top of the patrol car. “Landon, let this one go.”

  Two words I’ve never spoken before roll off my tongue. “I can’t.”

  “Dude, are you even fucking listening to me?” Luke spits out.

  “Shut the fuck up. Just spot me,” I respond. Working out used to be the one thing that would help me clear my mind, get my shit straight. Now, I can’t even focus on lifting the weights that are hovering over my head. I let them fall back onto the bench, and I grunt in frustration. Luke shakes his head at me and walks away. “What?” I yell out in frustration. Luke keeps walking towards the locker room, away from my outburst.

  “Fuck!” I scream, soliciting head turns and dirty looks from the other gym members around me. I grab my water bottle and head to the locker room too. Jess has been gone for four days. Four fucking days and I still haven’t heard from her, not that I expected to, but I just want to know she’s safe. I need to know she’s happy. I need to know something about her, anything. I toss my water bottle at the row of lockers directly in front of me. The bottle bounces off and rolls around the floor.

  Luke walks around the corner from the showers with his gym bag hanging off of his shoulder just as I’m entering. Looking me up and down as he quietly speaks, “Just go get her. Bring her home.”

  I lower my eyes to the floor. “I can’t. She’s been gone four days, Luke. Only four days, and I don’t even know where she is.” Pushing past him, I move farther into the locker room and open my locker. Grabbing my gym bag and car keys, I punch the locker door closed causing an obnoxious bang that echoes off the tile floors of the locker room. I make no effort at acknowledging anyone at the gym on my way out to my truck. I just want to get the hell out of here, and I just want to get my life back. I want Jess back.

  Walking to my truck, I remember all of the promises we made to each other, all the plans we made for our future. I listened to everything she ever said, everything she mentioned she wanted. I was going to give her everything. She was my entire fucking world, she still is. I fear now that she is gone for good, and I will never get her back. I want to fucking kill someone, and I will, when I fucking find him.
Just then my fist connects with the side window of my truck. That will be that motherfucker’s face when they find him.

  Monday morning comes all too soon. I’m still getting settled at the condo and unpacking boxes. The last boxes that dad shipped arrived Saturday. I’ve found the grocery store and Target—the essentials, so I’m happy. Wearing capri length black pants and a fitted black and white polka-dot blouse, I throw on a red chunky necklace, matching red earrings and bracelet, and red ballet flats. Since I know I’ll be on my feet all day, I opt for comfort and fashion. Pouring half a pot of coffee into my large travel mug, I stir in some creamer and screw on the lid. Grabbing my purse off the counter and a stack of paperwork and bills that I need to sort through, I head out the door and to the first day of my internship.

  Using the badge Kevin gave me, I let myself through the main doors of WXZI and move quickly down the hall that leads to the newsroom in the back of the building that houses all of the cubicles and offices for the reporters and other staff. I’m fifteen minutes early. Figures, I’m always early. I hang my black sweater on the back of the chair that is at my desk and set my purse and coffee mug down. There are a few people in offices, but no one notices me.

  Walking toward Kevin’s office, I see him hunched over his desk, reading a newspaper. I knock lightly on the doorframe of his door, causing him to startle and raise his head. “Hi, Jessica. Ready to work?”

  “Ready,” I reply enthusiastically.

  Kevin leads me out of his office into the newsroom, walking past my desk and into another office that sits directly across the floor from his. “Jessica, this is Elaine Winters. Elaine is our daytime News Director, and you’ll be working primarily with her. Elaine, this is Jessica Harper, your newest intern.” I reach out to shake Elaine’s hand, and she stands up. She’s thin, as in looks like she hasn’t eaten in a year thin, and her hands are cold, bony, and frail. I’m afraid I’m going to crush her fingers if I squeeze too hard.