Easy Sacrifice (6 page)

I pull my gaze away from her. “Let’s roll.”

“Roger.” Jay’s voice has lost its enthusiasm; surely, he sensed my despair.

After he drops me at the safe house, I dig through the cupboards and stuff my face with anything and everything I find. Jail food is shit. I take a hot shower, not having to worry about anyone else. I fall asleep but wake up after only two hours. I circle the house, and before I lie back down again, I triple check that the pistol beside the bed is loaded.

Marco’s got so many on the inside, so many dirty cops, that aside from Jay, I don’t trust anyone. He was the one who approached me when I was seventeen years old. I started snitching for him, and one thing led to another.

Being a street kid means jail time, regardless. It was like a rite of passage to do time in juvie. But as an adult, I didn’t want to go back. With Marco on my ass, I lacked so much freedom as it was, and I didn’t want any more taken from me. I laugh at the irony of the fact that the United States Government employs me, yet I’m rotting away in a jail cell.

All it takes to snap me out of my pity party is one thought of Jessa. She’d never survive on the inside, and when she got out, Marco’d have her ass for killing his guy.

But since I’m the one who took the fall, he’s waiting. For me. Eye for an eye. Then he’ll go for her. I know how he operates, and his silence right now doesn’t mean shit. He’ll get his revenge. I just have to be smarter and faster.

* * *

I grip my hands on the bars and rest my head against the cool metal. It’s about four a.m., so nobody is awake yet. Only five more months. Five more months until I’m outta here. I’m so fuckin’ thankful I was able to get outta here for a few months a couple of years ago. But since then, I’ve done lots of thinking … too much, actually.

I dream about what things could be like if I were normal. If I would have been born to a fuckin’ banker or some shit. How I could have had what I so desperately want. What I’d work my hands to the bone to protect. What I’d treat like gold.

I can’t even jack off to anything but the picture of her face I have tattooed on my mind. She’s inside me. She’s everything to me. I’ve asked myself a million times what it is about her. Why her? How the fuck can it be someone I barely know? And each time, I don’t have an answer. It’s just her. She’s just her.

Footsteps take me out of my thoughts as one of the guards walks by and hands me an envelope. I take it back to my bunk with me and open the paper, reading Jay’s update. My eyes skim the pages until they land on her name.

He tells me that she has a boyfriend and that she doesn’t seem as happy as she should, but it’s probably the stress of opening the veterinarian clinic. She’s gotten her dream. My lips tilt up into a smile, and the foreign feeling is only something that she could produce.

I tear the pages up when I’m done and flush them down the toilet. As I watch the white squares wash away, I clutch my chest from the sudden knife through my heart.

But through it all, I’d do a lifetime in here if it meant keeping her safe.

* * *

Jessa

“How are you holding up?” my mom asks.

I shift my feet under me and swallow another drink of wine, adjusting the phone on my ear. “Good. Really busy, though.”

“I’m sure you are. I’m so proud of you. Proud of both of my kids. I have a successful actor for a son and pretty soon a veterinarian for a daughter.”

Her pride is reflected in her voice, and I laugh. “Are you crying?”

She sniffles. “No.”

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m just so proud of you. I know things haven’t always been easy, but you’ve managed to push all of that aside and strive for your dreams and … I’m rambling.” She giggles. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m glad I make you proud.” And I’m glad that she’s oblivious to the fact that I’m still a heartbroken woman.

We chat for a few more minutes before hanging up, and I decide I’m too tired to get up and go to bed, so I pull the blanket from the back of the couch over me and fall asleep. Mom’s usually right, but one thing she’s wrong about is my dreams. They’re not the same as when I was a kid. For ten years, they’ve been filled with one face. One handsome face.

Chapter 6

Jessa

29 years old

“Dr. Crew, your next appointment is ready.”

I quickly finish typing my notes and then grab the chart from my assistant. She begins to brief me as we walk to the room.

“Two-year-old female, vomiting, diarrhea, lethargy, temp’s one-oh-four.” She pauses and releases a breath. “Intact.”

“Of course,” I mutter under my breath, already knowing what’s wrong with the dog.

I enter the room with a smile on my face and question the owners as I examine the dog, who’s clearly miserable. Her gums are a little tacky and pale, she yelps in pain when I palpate her abdomen, and when I lift her tail, the puss leaking out of her vulva is the final sign I need.

After explaining to her owners that their dog has pyometra, an infection of the uterus, and state that she needs emergency surgery, they stare at me in disbelief. When they ask the cost of the surgery, I tell them that Kristen will return with the price.

As Kristen is going over the cost with them, I stand outside the door, waiting for one of four possible answers. They’ll agree and want to do surgery right away. They’ll want to do it but not have the funds and beg for a payment plan. They’ll want to try to treat it at home with medication because they don’t have the money, which is impossible; the dog will die without the surgery. Or they’ll want to use what money they do have to euthanize her because they can’t afford the surgery.

When Kristen steps out, the look on her face tells me they chose option four, and my heart sinks. “Let me talk to them. Maybe they’ll surrender her.” I’ll take her then. It’s not the dog’s fault her people didn’t spay her.

After a lengthy conversation that puts all of my appointments behind for the last hour and a half that I’m open, the owners decide to sign her over to the clinic. I’ll perform the surgery, and then we’ll find a home for her.

While I rush through my appointments, my assistants do the bloodwork and prep the dog for surgery. I successfully perform an ovariohysterectomy and save the dog’s life. By the time the day is over, I’ve worked thirteen hours and am dead ass tired.

My shower and a bed sound orgasmic right now, and I click the button for my heated seat and wait for it to warm before I pull out of the parking lot. As I’m driving through a secluded part of town, my car shakes. “No, no, no, not tonight.” It straightens out, and I say a silent thank you to God that whatever it was went away.

Finally, I pull into my driveway and can hear my dogs barking already. No matter how rough of a day I’ve had, how shitty my schedule is, or how horrible some humans are, my dogs always make me feel better. They calm me when I get frantic and cheer me up when I’m sad.

I excitedly greet them and drop to my knees to give them just as much love as they’re giving me. The note from the dog walker said she fed them at five, so I take them out to the backyard and play with them for a little while.

“Sorry, guys, I’m beat. Let’s go to bed.”

They follow me inside, and by the time I’m out of the shower, all three of them are on my bed.

* * *

Instead of my prayer to God, I’m cursing him right now because I’m stuck on the side of the road, late for work in pouring down rain. I’ve already called a tow truck and am bouncing my knees up and down waiting for it to arrive. A car pulls up behind me at the same time as the tow truck stops in front. I hop out and meet the driver, signing the paper and then running back to Kristen’s car.

“Holy crap, it’s pouring!” I wipe some of the water from my face, and Kristen laughs.

“You’re soaked.”

“I know.”

“Good thing you have extra scrubs.”

She drives us to the clinic and the rest of the day goes off without a hitch. I get the call that my car is ready, and when our day is over, Kristen drops me off at the garage.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

I step out, but before I shut my door, she calls my name. “Yeah?”

“I’m meeting some friends at Venue tonight. Wanna come?”

Normally, I’m a loner. I stay home and play with my dogs or read. Sometimes, I’ll watch an old movie, but after the last couple of days, a drink actually sounds good. “Ya know what? Yes. That sounds great.”

Her eyes widen at my acceptance. “Awesome. We’ll be there at like eight.”

“Okay, see ya then!”

Luckily, the rain stopped a while ago, but I skip over a couple of puddles on the way into the building. The smell of motor oil and gasoline hits me before I even open the door all the way, and the loud bell chimes, making me jump a bit. I wasn’t expecting it to be that loud, but I suppose it’s gotta be to be heard over the drills and motors revving.

A man with a long beard approaches the desk and wipes his hands on his overalls. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m Jessa Crew. You guys towed my car this morning when I got a flat.”

“Oh, yeah.” He shuffles some papers around and pulls out mine, has me sign, and then I hand over my credit card.

My car drives smoother than it ever has before, and when I get home, my doggies are eagerly awaiting my arrival. I open the back door so they can go outside, and I change into a pair of yoga pants then meet them out back to go on a walk.

Normally, I would spend the rest of my night with them, and as much as it kills me to leave them alone again, I take a shower and get ready to go out. I’ve spent far too much time on my own, and now that things are finally in order, I should start having some fun.

Way in the back of my closet, I have a black dress, but when I slip it on and look at myself in the mirror, I realize how frumpy it is. The ruffled sleeves and knee-length hemline age me significantly. I rip the dress off and tear through the rest of the clothes in my closet, feeling triumphant when I find an old pair of leather pants.

Miraculously, they still fit, and the silver heels I haven’t worn in years look great with them. I don’t have any fancy tops, so I put on a bra with lacy straps, slide a cami over it, and layer some necklaces.
Good enough.

I haven’t curled my hair in probably a decade, and I don’t plan to start tonight, so I toss it in a high ponytail and apply some makeup. I feed the dogs, shove some food in my mouth as well, and grab a cab to the bar.

The club is dark and loud, but I manage to spot Kristen right away. She’s with a bunch of girls who are all laughing and having a good time already. I order a drink from the bar and then head over to them.

“You made it!” Kristen squeals.

“I did.”

“Guys, this is Dr. Crew—”

“Jessa,” I interrupt. I still feel weird when people call me doctor.

Kristen giggles; yeah, she’s already drunk. “Jessa, these are my friends—Kelly, Marianne, and Megan.”

“Nice to meet you.”

We chitchat and laugh for a little while, and the music becomes even louder and the lights darker. They manage to drag me to the dance floor, and I end up having a good time. I put all my thoughts of stress and work and mortgage payments to the back of my mind.

A man’s hands grip my hips from behind, and I turn to face him. “Wanna dance with me?”

“Sure.” I wrap my arms around his neck and move to the rhythm of the beat. He tries to pull me closer, but I maintain my distance. I just want to have a good time, have fun. I’d like to enjoy my life … I think I deserve it after how much I have busted my ass these past few years.

I’ve had relationships, but for one reason or another, they didn’t last. I was mostly to blame because I held Ty up on an imaginary pedestal and nobody could come close. I decided it just wasn’t worth the effort, so I gave up.

When the song is over, I thank him then turn around. He walks away, and a different guy approaches Kristen. “I’m going to go to the bathroom,” I shout to her and her friends.

They give me a thumbs-up, and I weave my way between bodies and then head down the hallway. I swear they need to make double of the women’s bathrooms. The lines are always longer; wouldn’t it make sense to just add more stalls? I don’t get it.

Finally, I’m able to go in, and when I get back out, Kristen isn’t at the table, but everyone else is. “Where is Kristen?” I ask them.

“Still dancing with that guy.”

“Ahh, I see.” I wouldn’t call what she’s doing dancing. “I’m going to take off. It was great meeting you guys.” And I wasn’t lying. I had a great time. Since the events six years ago, I’ve been a different person. I no longer allow myself the luxuries most women my age do. I tend to be even more of a homebody than I was before, afraid of being out in the open. If I see a black SUV, I duck in my car so they don’t see me. I have no idea who the people were that night, but I killed one of them, and certainly, karma will come back for me.

“You too. Drive careful.”

I decide to head back to the dance floor at the last second. Once again, I wind my way between bodies to say bye to Kristen on my own. I want to make sure she’s okay before I leave. She hugs me enthusiastically, and I say goodbye as I pry her off me. “Are you okay to get home?”

“I’m great!” She nods at the man behind her, and I eye him, giving my best motherly warning to take care of her.

“Okay. Bye.”

Despite dancing among the crowd of steamy bodies, my skin doesn’t feel too heated, but when I get outside and see
him
, it begins to burn. He’s leaning on his truck right outside the club, watching me. Waiting, maybe? The door closes behind me, and the bass from inside dissipates as the pounding of my heart begins to echo in my chest.

His eyes don’t move from mine. If I could walk, I’d run to him, but I’m paralyzed. I haven’t seen him in six years; not since he told me from behind the glass partition that he never wanted to see me again … I was the one who pulled the trigger, but he took the blame.

Now, he looks … fucking hot. His arms are huge. His eyes are still beautiful, but they’re definitely harder. His hair’s a tad longer than it was before. And in the pants he’s wearing, I can see the outline of his cock.