Hell And Back(11)

She gets up and smiles at me. “Thank you so much. Jackson is on the phone, but I will give this to him the minute he comes back down.”

I reach out to give her the plate, which she takes with a real genuine smile.

“They smell delicious. We will definitely be eating this tonight.”

I nod and smile at her, picking Lilah up in my arms. “Let’s say good night to Miss...?”

“Kendall. My name is Kendall.”

“Bye, Miss Kendall.” With those words I make my way across the road, trying not to let my head play tricks on me.

“How about we take a nice bubble bath together, and then we can have a sleepover in Mommy’s bed? We can read stories.”

“Yeah. Momma bed?”

“Yes, baby, Momma’s bed.” I make it to the front door and turn around to lock it, taking in the house across the street.

The shadow in the upstairs window draws my attention up.

I know it’s him. I feel him watching me. I can’t see his face or his eyes, but I know they are on me. I feel him looking, I feel his stare.

I close the door, not taking even a second to look toward the window to see the man with the blue eyes, who’s been haunting my dreams from the first time I saw him.





Chapter Seven


Jackson





I hear the doorbell the minute I press accept on my phone.

“My wallet is on the counter. Take the money.”

I was surprised to see Kendall’s car in my driveway when I got home.

I was even more surprised when I came in and she was lying on the couch watching television.

Kendall and I met in high school. First crush, first kiss, first everything. Till the day everything changed and she took a backseat.

No matter how many times I tell her I can’t give her what she wants, she still shows up.

Don’t get me wrong, she dates. I know this because when she is with someone, she doesn’t come around. I also know the minute it’s over because she gives me a call.

I’ve never called her. I’ve never chased her. Doing that would give her the wrong idea, and I’m not that guy.

“What have you got?” I ask Mick.

“So the sixteen-year-old Lori? You were right. Turns out she was dating an eighteen-year-old Evan Franks. The same Evan Franks who was dating Sarah Nickles. The same Sarah Nickles who disappeared six months ago.”

“Fuck. I knew that guy was bad news the minute we showed up at his house. Came outside pretending to be all worried. Did you check his last address? Has he moved?”

“Last address is unknown. He was living with his mother then got evicted. From there we’ve got nothing. I put word out on the street to a couple of informants to keep me posted.” Mick breathes out. “This smells fucking bad, Jackson. Smells like raw fucking sewage.”

I reach up, pinching my nose. My head is already starting to pound with the headache I know is coming. “Nothing we can do tonight. Go home, get some sleep. Tomorrow we hit the streets. See if anyone is willing to sing.”

“All right, later then.”

I turn to look outside, trying to get my thoughts together.

Looking at the house across from mine, I haven’t seen them at all today. I’m just about to turn around when I see both of them walking across the street leaving from my house.

What the fuck was she doing? Did she come here? My mind is running with questions. I watch her make her way to the front door. She turns and looks up. The light in the room is not on, so I’m pretty sure she doesn’t see me.

The look on her face answers my question. She sees me, but she’s not giving me anything else. She steps through the door, closing it immediately behind her in a clear signal, letting me know she’s keeping me outside with everyone else.

I make my way downstairs just as Kendall places a plate of cookies on my counter in the kitchen.

“Your neighbor and her daughter just dropped off cookies for you.” She turns around, heading right to me.

On her tippy toes, she wraps her arms around my neck and leans up to place a kiss on my lips.

“I really missed you today.” She trails kisses along my jaw and down my neck.

She must feel I haven’t wrapped my arms around her.

“Are you okay? Was it a bad phone call?” That’s the Kendall I know. The one who thinks about me before herself. She’s perfect; she just isn’t perfect for me.

“Yeah, sorry, my head isn’t really here tonight. I didn’t know you were coming over. You usually send me a message first.”

She doesn’t have a chance to say anything before the doorbell rings again.

“I’ll get it. Probably the Chinese I ordered. Get the plates, yeah?”

I move to the front door, paying for the food and sneaking a look over at that house whose occupants keep calling to me.