Jess waited until nine o’clock, but when she called again and Rick didn’t answer, she frowned. He’d been so angry when he’d stormed out of Tom and Abby’s. And she couldn’t say she blamed him, but it didn’t stop the fact that his words had hurt and she was worried about him.
He should have answered his cell or at least seen her calls. Which meant he was avoiding her. Avoiding everyone. It had been hours, and she was hoping he’d cooled off. Most of all she knew he shouldn’t be alone right now. The last thing she wanted was for him to backslide into old habits.
She grabbed her bag and scooted out, jumping in her car. Another vehicle was parked down the street that she didn’t recognize, and out of long habit she locked the door before even putting the key in the ignition. She wasn’t paranoid. She was just cautious. Always.
The drive to Rick’s place was short, and to her relief his truck was in his yard. Over the past several weeks he’d been there for her in so many ways that now she wanted to return the favor. She knew he felt betrayed. Perhaps he was right. The people he cared for most had kept things from him and now he had to deal with them all at once. She didn’t even blame him for leaving her out at Blackberry Hill, even though a very sober Abby had driven her back to town, completely apologetic for how things had turned out.
Jess took a fortifying breath as she went up the walk. Maybe he needed to talk, or maybe he just needed someone to sit with him while he sorted through his feelings.
The first knock at the door went unanswered, and she tried the knob, thinking maybe he really was in the porch painting. It was locked, so she knocked again, peeking in the window. After a few moments, Rick came into view and her stomach gave a slow, strange twist. A warning. She didn’t have time to heed it before he opened the door, glaring at her.
“Um … I thought I should check in with you. See if you were okay. This afternoon was kind of intense.”
“Jess.” Rick sounded tired. “Not right now, okay? I can’t sit through a pep talk about how everything will be fine. Because I keep thinking it will be fine, but then something else comes and knocks me on my ass. I made my peace with Roberta before she died, but you and Tom and Abby had to stir things up again. So for right now, just leave me alone.”
A flash of anger rose to the surface and Jess looked back up again. “No. I won’t leave you alone. I care about you, Rick
. And I did what I thought I had to do. I won’t let you push me away over this.”
His face changed. The mask of hurt disappeared and was replaced by an arrogant, screw-you expression. “This isn’t about you, Jess! This is about me and my life. This is about me dealing with my shit and wanting people to respect me enough to let me do that. I thought you were that kind of person, you know? But you’re as bad as everyone else. You think you know best, but you don’t. You still think I’m a wild card, don’t you? What, did you come over here to make sure I haven’t drowned myself in a bottle?” He shook his head with disgust.
His words hurt, deeply. She gasped in a breath but before she could say anything, he kept going. “Look, what we had was a sexual relationship, nothing more. I don’t need your kind of help at the moment. In fact, I don’t need your constant harping at all. Most of all, I’m not your little project to fix!”
“What we had?” Pain tore through her at the harsh words. Maybe she’d been wrong, but she’d been wrong for the right reasons! She was angry, too, and she lashed out in the only way she knew how. “Well, I guess if you don’t broadcast a relationship no one’s the wiser when it ends, huh? Smart strategy, Rick. Nice to see you planned ahead.”
She turned to walk away. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t argue with him right now. She took the first step away from him, then another, trying to hold back hot tears.
She heard him let out a big breath. “Jess … I’m sorry. Shit. Don’t go.” His voice was instantly apologetic.
Her steps slowed and she closed her eyes, wanting to give him what he was asking so badly and knowing she couldn’t. Her throat thick with emotion, she kept moving toward her car.
The car door appeared in front of her though Jess could barely see it through her tears. Fumbling with her keys she got the door open and slid in behind the wheel. At least she couldn’t hear Rick anymore but he was still standing in the doorway.
She wouldn’t back down. She’d be stronger this time. She’d be smarter. For herself and for her baby.
He was still standing there as she pulled away from the curb and headed not toward Lilac Lane but to Josh’s house. She didn’t want to be alone tonight, and Josh was the only one who knew. Who would understand.
And tomorrow she would start picking up the pieces. Again.
* * *
It was a Monday in December and Jess couldn’t not open the store, so she left Josh’s at seven thirty in the morning. They’d stayed up late talking, and she’d never been gladder to have her big brother. They’d talked about Rick, and Erin, and Mike, and Jess’s pregnancy. When Josh asked about Rick, she’d simply said that it wasn’t her place to tell, but he was justifiably upset. She left out the part where he’d referred to them in the past tense. That just hurt too much.
She was in a better state of mind when she headed home for a shower and clean clothes, though the hollow ache still persisted inside when she thought about how she and Rick had almost made it. Still, she’d be okay. She’d come through worse …
It wasn’t until she was inside that she realized the back door hadn’t been locked. She was sure it had been when she left last night. Uneasy now, she crossed the workroom to the stairs to the loft and went up into her living space.
The door to the loft was ajar. She slowly pushed it open and then cried out at the state of the apartment.
Rick’s paints and supplies, which had taken up residence in front of the wide windows overlooking the bay, were now smashed and scattered all over the floor. Her little tables with candles and other knickknacks were overturned, and her furniture was in utter ruin. Red and green paint had been smeared all over the white upholstery and dumped over the throw rug on the floor. She stepped farther in and covered her mouth with her hand. Her dishes, the ones that had belonged to her grandmother, were in shards on her kitchen floor. Books had been thrown out of her bookcase. All in all, her apartment was a disaster and Jess felt completely, horribly, violated.
But worst of all was the rough swipe of paint on her lovely white wall. Whore, it said, and she knew without a doubt that even if she’d agreed to the restraining order, it wouldn’t have kept Mike away. He’d done this. He’d be the only one to call her such a repulsive name, to be this angry. He hadn’t liked seeing her with Rick. And now he’d been where she lived, touching her things …
Anger such as she’d never experienced before burned through her body. Did he really think he could frighten and intimidate her this way?
Her hands trembled but her mind was resolute as she picked up the phone and called the police station. She reported the incident to the duty officer and then went to her workroom and paced until she heard the squad car pull up out front. He wouldn’t win. Not this time.
She opened the door to Bryce and another officer who’d come to assist. She told them what she’d touched, and stepped out, not wanting to see the carnage any longer. Instead she made a sign and posted it on the front door stating the shop was closed for the morning. A quick check showed her that the office and shop hadn’t been touched. It was only her living quarters. Whoever had done it—and she was sure it was Mike—had deliberately struck her where she lived.