Love, Lies & The D.A. (39 page)

We
enjoy an extended brunch. I listen as they reminisce about old times with
Charles. Pierce talks excitedly about his upcoming series he’s soon to release,
and Jonathan and Megan are excited about how they will restore their father’s
legacy. Jonathan smiles, but he doesn’t say much. I know his last conversation
with Charles must still bother him.

My
mild headache intensifies. At first, I try to ignore it, but it quickly
develops and within minutes, I am in excruciating pain. I don’t remember my
headache being this bad ever, not even when I woke up at the hospital. I slip
my medication from my purse and take something for the pain.

“Hey,
you okay?” Jonathan asks.

“My
head is pounding… I feel nauseous.”

“I
should take you home to get some rest.”

“No, finish
your food first.”

“You
need to rest.”

“Please,
spend time with your family. Your mom misses being with you.”

He
reluctantly agrees, but for the next fifteen minutes, instead of my head
getting better, it progressively worsens. We were supposed to head back to San
Francisco after brunch, but I’m not sure if I can survive the long drive back.

After
saying our goodbyes, Caroline, Megan, and Pierce leave. We are paying the bill
when I feel dizzy.

“Johnny…”

“What’s
wrong, Babe?”

“I
need to lie down. I feel dizzy.” He quickly signs the bill and helps me over to
the car. As I lie back into the car seat, the pain is so agonizing, tears run
down my cheeks.

“I don’t
like seeing you like this. I’m going to take you to a doctor friend who lives
nearby.”

I
close my eyes and try to relax. I hear him talking on his cell phone.

Sometime
later, the car stops and I open my eyes. We are home.

“He’s
not home right now,” Jonathan says. “He’s going to come by in a while.”

He
carries me out of the car and up the stairs. I feel paralyzed by pain. Even the
slightest movements cause it to worsen. He sets me down gently on his bed, and
then carefully removes my sandals. He leaves the room for a moment, but quickly
returns with a small pitcher filled with water and a glass, then pours me some.
The dogs bark. Although the noise is somewhat muffled, it still bothers me.

“Tomas
must be here. I’ll be right back.”

Minutes
later, he returns with a man probably in his mid-fifties. He introduces
himself, asks me some questions, then checks my vital signs and blood pressure.
He steps out of the room momentarily to call and confer with Dr. Dubois. Soon
after, he returns.

“Look,
I’m going to give you a very small dose of morphine. I’ll check in with you in
twenty-four hours to assess your condition. You need to rest. That means you
need to be in bed for the next forty-eight hours. After that, you should still
be careful. Your injuries were serious. Johnny, if you see no major improvement
within a few hours, call me back, and I’ll increase the dosage.”

“Great.
Thank you so much for coming by.”

“Thank
you,” I whisper.

They
both exit the room. Ten minutes later, Jonathan returns.

“Once
I feel a little relief, we can leave. I know you have to get back for work
tomorrow,” I say.

“Actually,
I don’t. I don’t return to court till Tuesday afternoon. Get some rest. I don’t
want you to worry about a thing. Can I get you anything else?”

“No. I’ll
be fine, thanks.”

My cell
phone screams through the air.

“Can
you answer that, please?” I ask, covering my head with a pillow.

“Hello,”
he answers.

After
I hear the third hello, I realize it might be another one of those threatening
calls coming in. Moments later, he ends the call.

“Who
was it?”

“It
was nobody,” he replies, his temple twitching. “Get some rest, Babe. I have
some work to do on my laptop. I’ll be right out on the mezzanine. If you need
anything at all, call me… okay?”

“It
was a threat again, wasn’t it?”

“You
don’t need to worry right now. You need to rest. Go to bed.”

I know
it was, but I don’t have the energy to force it out of him. I let it go. He
kisses me on my forehead then exits the room. For hours, I toss and turn with
minimal relief. It feels like my brain is loose in my skull, and even with the
slightest movement, it feels like it’s shifting. Pounding from one side to the
next inside my skull. Somewhat like when an avocado seed is loose inside the
fruit. I will do anything for some significant relief. I try to sleep the pain
away, with no luck. I feel miserable.

I turn
on the TV to occupy my mind. The volume is off. It helps for a while. My mind
focuses on something else…

*     *     *

I hate
seeing Jada this way. I’d do anything to take her pain away. In too many ways,
I feel responsible for her being like this. I still haven’t heard from Phillip
regarding Chris Hostin. I suspect he’s purposely not communicating with me
because he’s afraid I’ll take the law into my own hands. I admit, the thought
has crossed my mind… I’m not going to go out looking for Chris Hostin, but
should he happen to approach Jada again or even cross my path, I’m afraid of
what I might do.

I’m
also furious about that phone call, but I need Jada to get back on her feet. I’ll
let the FBI handle this. At some point, this fool is bound to make a mistake.

She
was supposed to start physical therapy tomorrow, which would include ultra
sound therapy. I’ll have to see if Tomas knows someone he can send over here
tomorrow.

This
week most probably may be my last week at the office. I am hoping to wrap up my
final two cases by next weekend. Once I’m done, I’ll have my work cut out for
me at the firm. First on the agenda, try to get back the clients we lost since
Dad died, and find a way to entice some new lucrative ones. Even though Dad’s
gone, perhaps I can save his legacy, and it will, in some way, make up for his
disappointment in me.

Thankfully,
the one thing I won’t miss is the workload. I’ll have a huge part of my life
back, and while I won’t be a public official anymore, I’m sure for a while, I’ll
still be faced with questions when I meet people, supporters or otherwise, out
in public. It will also mean more time, time I’d like to spend with Jada. I
hope this issue in her life will be over soon.

There
is much I’d love to do with her. So many places I’d like to take her. It would
be great if we could do some travelling together. However, sometimes, I still
get the feeling that if I push her too hard, she will back away.

I have
to admit she’s like no other woman I’ve dated. I’ve never been with a woman who
has no problem putting me in my place. In the past, I’ve managed to have my way
with most of my exes most of the time, but with Jada, it’s different. I feel
like I’m always pushed and challenged, and she forces me to have discussions
and compromise, which is completely new to me. What’s intriguing, however, is I
like it. A bit of resistance every now and then has certainly led to some
spirited exchanges with her. Exchanges I enjoy.

My
phone rings, disturbing my thoughts. I don’t recognize the number.

“Hello.”

“Johnny.
Hi, it’s Sophie.”

“What
do you want?” I ask coldly.

“I was
hoping we could meet for a drink or something. I think we should talk.”

“Sophie,
there’s nothing to talk about. You need to get that through your thick skull.”

“Please?”

“No.
Whatever it is that went on between us is over. You need to understand that.
You can’t keep calling me like this. I know you were here last night. If you
keep this up, I’ll file a restraining order against you.”

“So
you’re fucking her now? Things must be pretty serious with you two for you to
be sharing weekends with her and your family.”

“I’m
not doing this with you. Don’t call me anymore. Don’t force me to get law
enforcement involved. And trust me, Sophie, when I tell you I will if you don’t
stop this.”

I hang
up on her, ending the call.

Minutes
later, Jada’s phone that sits on the coffee table rings. I look at the screen,
and I’m shocked to see the same number that appeared on my phone now appears on
hers. Sophie is trying to call her.

“Sophie,
what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I…
I…”

“Stay
away from Jada. Don’t touch her, don’t call her, and next time you see her, don’t
look her way.”

“I
think she needs to know what kind of a snake she’s dealing with.”

“Seriously,
Sophie? Are you fucking kidding me? Consider yourself warned.”

I end
the call.

I can’t
believe the extent this woman, who I’ve known for five years, is going through
to try to interfere with my relationship with Jada.

For
the next hour, I prepare the paper work and send it to Cooper so he can get a
protective order against her.

After
all this, I am feeling a little tired myself. I join Jada in bed. I am thankful
that she’s managed to fall asleep.

*     *     *

My
brain tilts once more and crashes with a loud and resounding bang onto my
skull. The pain wakes me; my headache is back. It’s not as bad as it was this
morning, but it’s not significantly better either.

Jonathan
sleeps next to me, his arm attached snugly to my waist. I must have been asleep
for a while. The room is now filled with the warm light of the setting sun.

I feel
nauseous. I grab my crutches and head to the bathroom, and before I know it,
everything I ate this morning is in the bathroom sink. I never realized
throwing up was so painful. I hurl once more, but nothing is left in my
stomach. Now, on top of everything else, I feel completely drained.

I
rinse out the sink and brush my teeth. Washing one’s face on crutches is
harder…

“Jada.
Babe, you okay?”

He’s
not shouting, but his voice rings in my head.

“I’ll
be out in a few minutes.”

After
much effort, I succeed in washing my face and stagger back to the bedroom.

“Do you
feel better?” Jonathan asks as I pull one of his black T-shirts off the chair
nearby.

“I
puked everything I ate this morning. I feel miserable. I’m so sorry about
this.” 

“Don’t
apologize,” he says as he helps me into a T-shirt. “I’ll call Tomas. In the
meantime, lie down. I’m going to order us some food. Would you like some
chicken soup?”

“Sure…
thanks for taking care of me.”

I lie
still in bed and watch the images flicker by on the TV screen. Within an hour,
I eat, I’m medicated, and I lie in complete silence. Jonathan’s taken the dogs
for a walk, so I appreciate being quiet and still. I’m not certain, but I’m
almost sure I heard him arguing with someone earlier. He sounded very angry,
but he seems in good spirits now, and frankly, I don’t have the energy to
process anything, so I leave it alone for now.

I wake
the
next day only to go to the bathroom. The headache’s getting better, but not
nearly as fast as I’d like. That said, Jonathan needs to be in court tomorrow.
After a long and exhausting talk, I convince him that I’m well enough to take
the drive home, and we leave.

It isn’t
until Tuesday morning, sitting in my penthouse, that I remember I’ve had my
phone shut off. When I glance at my phone, it’s only then I see numerous text
and voice messages from my demander. All are very angry. I don’t have the
energy to listen to them all.

There’s
one from another number that came through while I was asleep on Sunday.
Jonathan must have answered it. I’ll talk to him about it later.

I
pushed myself too hard after I returned from the hospital, and now I’m paying
for the consequences of my actions.

Jonathan
walks into my room, fully dressed in a grey suit carrying a tray.

“Hey,
Babe. I got you something to eat. Feel better?”

“Yes.
A little, but it’s still lingering on. I feel so exhausted.”

“That’s
because you need to eat.”

I take
a bite out of the croissant on the plate.

“Have
you heard from Phillip at all?”

“Just
sporadic text messages. Why?”

I hand
him my phone.

“Jada,
I don’t want you to take these calls. Your health is more important.”

“Jonathan.
He’s threatening to make me regret it if I don’t.”

“I’ll
call Phillip. They need to figure out a way to handle this. You shouldn’t be
dealing with this right now. You were almost killed in that accident. It’s not
your responsibility to keep this prick happy.”