Saving Jenna

  Copyright © 2018 by Christina Butrum

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by: Lawrence Editing

  Cover by: Amanda Walker PA and Designs

  Created with Vellum

  - Trigger Warning -

  This book contains graphic scenes of domestic violence. With that said, I want to add I do not condone violence, nor do I tolerate it. This story is Ian & Jenna’s. Even though it was hard to write, and they’re fictional characters, it needed to be told.

  If you have faced domestic violence, I want you to know you’re not alone.

  National Domestic Violence Hotline

  1-800-799-SAFE(7233)

  1-800-787-3224(TTY)

  www.thehotline.org

  For my readers…

  Chapter 1

  There was something about having loved and lost someone who meant the world to you. For Ian Riley, that person was Jenna Avery. Years had gone by since the last time he’d seen her, but that didn't mean the thought of her had ever left his mind. Many days, he caught himself wondering about the what-ifs and the whatnots. Of course, there was no guarantee that things would have worked out between them regardless of the way he felt about her now.

  Heading back to West Grove, the thought of her crossed his mind once again. He hadn’t seen her since the day they’d gone their separate ways. He was partially to blame for that. His heart had quickly fallen for her, but his brain was too stubborn to settle down and realize what he had when he held her in his arms.

  Now, two years later, he had a project calling for his attention on his rental property back home and he wasn’t sure if he would see her there or not. West Grove was a small enough town where everyone knew everything, and he had a feeling it wouldn't take long for the word to get around that he was back in town. There was no doubt in his mind the town folk would take the first chance they got at getting things stirred up while assuming the reason for him coming back to town.

  Following the old river road that wound around the outskirts of town, he allowed it to guide his truck along the curves while he reminisced about the past. There were times he had thought about what would have happened if he hadn’t chosen to skip town, headed on to greener pastures that had turned out not to be that much greener after all. If he had given Jenna the time of day she needed, he wondered if they would have been married by now with a house, a couple of kids and a dog, too.

  Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he gripped the wheel tighter as the truck rolled into town off the main highway. He was here strictly on business and if he didn't get this house fixed up, he would lose money and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

  The town hadn’t changed much in the last couple of years. The same friendly people he had left behind were the first to offer a friendly wave of welcome in his direction as he drove down Main. West Grove was the place you stayed if you wanted a close neighborhood full of friendly neighbors and a better place to raise your kids.

  Pulling his old, beaten, rusted truck into the driveway of his rental house, it was clear the last two years had proven to be a challenge for the structure. Faded, worn out shingles lined the roof, missing a few spots of coverage here and there. The three windows facing the front yard were cracked and damn near shattered to hell. Smudged spray painted letters lined the siding and the front door, making it impossible to make out the message left behind. Damn kids these days. They were always messing with things that weren’t theirs. They should be damn lucky he didn't catch them.

  Grunting off the disappointment of a rundown rental property from years of renters who didn't give a damn and because of his own neglect to check on things, he grabbed what tools he could from the back of his truck and made his way to the house. Walking the perimeter of the house and fence line, he checked over what needed to be fixed. So far, the roof and a few windows were top priority, but the house would need new siding and a couple of doors too.

  “I’ll be damned.”

  He heard the voice as the man it belonged to rounded the back corner of the house. He would have recognized that voice from anywhere. When the man neared Ian, he realized he hadn’t been mistaken. Old Todd from down the way. Town drunk and still going strong. The man closed the gap between them, holding out his hand. Ian stepped forward and shook it without hesitation. Taking hold with a firm grip, he pulled the man in for a quick hug. The man may have been a drunk, but he was a good man and had done a lot for Ian over the last couple of years. Mowing the yard every now and then, while making sure there weren’t any major disturbances with the property, but Ian appreciated it just as much.

  “How’s it going, old man?”

  “Who you callin’ old, boy?”

  The smell of whiskey was strong as the man took a step closer, taking a few playful jabs at Ian. “What have you been up to, boy?” Taking another jab but losing his balance, the man straightened the best he could. “You’re not moving back here, are you?”

  Ian dropped his head and let out a deep laugh. This would be where the rumor would begin. Setting the old man straight before the town started talking was priority. No sense in making something out of nothing. “Nope. Just here strictly on business.”

  He watched as Todd pulled the metal flask from the pocket of his flannel and tipped it back. The glare of the setting sun ricocheted against the container as the man gulped down the contents, some sort of hard liquor was Ian’s guess. Hard knowing with that man. He would guarantee the man had no problem with mixing several liquors and he definitely had a high tolerance for alcohol, so who’s to say how much the man had to drink today.

  “I’ve been keeping an eye on the place,” Todd said, matching step for step with Ian on the way back to the truck. “Damn kids must have knocked out those windows the other night when they were playing baseball. You can’t tell ’em nothin’.”

  “Seems like there’s been a lot more than just baseball going on around here,” he said, lifting up the rest of the supplies he would need tomorrow as Todd leaned against the bed of the truck. “I haven’t been inside yet, but the outside will keep me busy for a while.”

  Todd ran a hand through his matted, greasy hair before following Ian back to the garage. The man looked older than he actually was. Pushing fifty, looking like mid-sixties. Alcohol, along with the possibility of some low-key drug use, wasn’t a good match for the guy. Ian felt bad for him actually. The poor guy didn't have a family. They all left him when he first started drinking—they called it like they saw it—a problem that would later take over his life. They hadn’t been wrong.

  “Hey,” he called out, dropping the plywood sheets on the floor of the garage in an attempt to get to Todd’s side as he stumbled his way through the door. “Take it easy there, bud. Why don't you have a seat right there and I’ll be back in a minute?”

  He waited for Todd to take a seat on the lawn chair left behind by the past tenants. Once the man complied, he headed back to the truck to grab the last of the roofing materials. It would be dark soon and he didn't want to have this stuff in the back of his truck come nightfall. Hard telling what would happen to it with all these damn teenagers running around past curfew.

  Dropping the remaining load on top of the plywood, he wiped the dirt from his hands on his favorite pair of carpenter pants. If he had known how dirty he would get tonight, he wouldn't have worn them. He had packed plenty of grungy looking clothes for the project, but as far as decent clothes, there were only a select few, these jeans included.

  Taking a look at Todd, who wa
s now propped sideways in the chair, hanging over the side with a cigarette between his parted lips, Ian realized he could possibly help the man out for the time being. He would be here in West Grove for two weeks, no more and no less than that. Todd probably didn't have a job and from the looks of it, may need some money to support his habit. “Hey, Todd,” Ian called out, startling him into an upright position as he tried to figure out where he was. Damn alcohol would do that to a person. “What do you say about helping me out around here?”

  “I already do.” His words were jumbled and slurred. The liquor had snuck up on him, kicking his ass and his thoughts all at once. “I mowed just the other day.”

  The grass hadn’t been cut for a while and the weeds and vines were finding their way up the side of the house. Not that he was going to call the old man’s bluff, because if Todd hadn’t been mowing it every now and then, it was hard to say how high the grass would have been by now. It hadn’t taken him long to realize you have to take the help when you can get it and not complain about it. “I was thinking about needing another guy to help with the roof. That roof would take me quite a while if I did it by myself.”

  As if Todd had a moment of clarity, he sat up in the chair, relit his cigarette, and took a drag before asking, “You’re thinking about having me help you?”

  “If you want,” Ian said, knowing full well that Todd wouldn't turn down the offer. He was a good man and liked to help out where he could. It was a win-win for both of them. “I’ll be starting on it tomorrow. Bright and early.”

  “How early we talkin’?” Todd was standing now, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “I’m thinking before the sun comes up. It’s going to be another hot one tomorrow.”

  For a minute he doubted the man would actually agree to it. Hell, it would take the guy a day to get straight, let alone want to climb a ladder.

  “I’ll be here.”

  There were only a few times when Ian had questioned another man’s word, one of those times being that of his father’s and another time right now as he stared at Todd, wondering if he was being serious or talking out of his ass.

  As if Todd could read his thoughts, he walked over to where Ian was standing, right in the doorway getting ready to lock the garage up for the night and offered his hand. If the man was willing to shake on it, he supposed the guy was willing to keep his word. “I’ll be here,” Todd said, offering a slap on Ian’s shoulder on his way out the door. He turned, nearly stumbling over his own two feet. “I’ll bring the coffee if you serve the breakfast.”

  Chuckling at the thought, Ian shook his head. “How about I pick you up and we head over to the diner downtown? It’s still open, isn't it? I’ve heard they serve the best of the best.”

  Todd’s eyes brightened and he offered Ian a slight smirk. “Sounds good to me if you’re buying.”

  “You bet,” he said with a nod before closing the door behind him and placing a new padlock through the latch. Turning back to where Todd had been standing, he realized the guy was already shuffling his way down the road in the direction of his house. “See you at the butt crack of dawn, ol’ man,” he called out, which earned him nothing but a mumbled response back that was lost in the breeze.

  Waking early while on vacation was overrated. Which, it technically wasn't a vacation. He had taken the time off from his construction job back home in order to fix this place up. Once he had heard that the renters had moved out, without so much of a word to him, he knew there would be a mess for him to clean up. The story of his life in all honesty.

  Pulling up to the curb in front of Todd's, the house looked dead and in worse shape than Ian's rental. The shutters were hanging crooked and the overhang off the front porch looked like it was caving in with weathered shingles and rotted wood. Crumpled beer cans littered the yard, scattered throughout the knee-high grass around the fire pit. Todd had given up on a lot of things when his family left him and the house was proof.

  After debating on whether or not to bother the guy, Ian hopped out of his truck and made his way to the front door, managing to walk through the trash-filled yard without stepping in something he would later regret.

  Just as he was about to knock, a growl sounded behind him. Careful not to make a sudden move to startle whatever animal was standing behind him, he turned cautiously with a hand out just in case it launched at him. "Easy, boy," he said, his words low and calm, not wanting to show fear. It probably was a good thing he wasn’t scared of dogs. This dog looked to play the part in a horror movie.

  With its hackles raised and bearing its teeth, the dog sat unmoved as it watched Ian's every move. Of course this would be how his first day back to West Grove would start. When he had shit to get done, he was standing on a porch that could fall through any minute and faced with a dog that was hungry for his jugular. He couldn’t help but wonder if the dog belonged to Todd. Hell, the dog looked like it hadn't eaten much in the last year with its ribs prominently showing and the look in its eyes was a dead giveaway that something wasn’t right.

  Knowing he wasn’t getting out of here with this dog blocking his path, Ian knelt down in an attempt to decrease the threat of his existence. He would have to wait this out. If only he had food on him. One look around the yard, he could possibly find something, but the way it looked, feral animals had already ransacked through the garbage bags.

  The dog took a step closer in his direction, and when he felt like running, he knew he couldn’t. Holding the back of his hand out in an attempt to offer a truce, Ian waited impatiently while the dog walked on egg shells and took its time sniffing his hand. "Easy, boy. It's okay. I won't hurt you."

  The dog seemed to relax. The demeanor changed from aggression to hesitant but friendly. "Huh, what do ya know? You weren't really going to take me down. Ya had me fooled." Scratching the dog behind the ears, he stood and stretched. The dog did the same. Standing on the rickety porch, Ian looked down at the dog that was now standing at knee height with a dopey look on its face. "Wish I could stick around, but I got things to do today."

  Taking a step off the landing, the dog followed close behind as Ian made his way back to the truck. He turned, facing the dog, and gave a subtle command for the dog to stay. Having to guess, the dog thought it was riding along. As much as he hated to leave the thing behind, he had stuff to get done and didn’t need another distraction hanging around. "Go on. Go home, boy."

  Before he had a chance to hop in, the dog had helped himself into the cab of the truck. "What are you doing? You can't go with me," he said, realizing how silly it was to argue with a dog. Pointing to the ground, he demanded for the dog to get out, but there was no budging a dog with its mind made up. Realizing he had no other choice but to take the dog downtown with him, he climbed in. Taking a look at the oversized mutt sitting next to him, Ian laughed. "All right, we'll see if anyone at the diner knows where you belong."

  Pulling away from Todd's, Ian headed in the direction of the diner, not only hoping to find the owner of this dog, but find help with his rental house. He really hoped Todd was there waiting when he got back.

  He hadn't thought too far ahead about what he would do with the dog once he got to the diner. The place wasn’t crowded. There were plenty of open spots to park. Deciding to park in front where he would have a clear view of the dog from inside while he ate, Ian shifted into park. As if the dog would understand, he said, "Stay here. Take it easy."

  The bell above the door was the first to greet his presence, followed by a friendly wave from behind the register. A woman in her mid-fifties walked over to him and offered him a seat by the window. "What can I get you to drink?"

  This woman was much too chipper for this early in the morning. "I'll take some coffee, thanks."

  "Would you like any creamer with it?"

  "No, thanks."

  "I'll be right back with that."

  Watching her walk off before grabbing the folded menu behind the napkin holder,
he wondered who on earth could be that damn happy this early in the morning.

  "Here's your coffee, sir."

  She flipped her notebook open and prepared to take his order. He remembered always having the hungry man's special, which included double of everything. "Do you still have the hungry man special?"

  "We sure do."

  "I'll go ahead and take that. Toss in a few pancakes too, please."

  Only when she was done scribbling and turned to walk off did she notice his truck and the dog inside of it. "Is that your truck?" she asked, pointing with her pen straight out the window. "And your dog?"

  "Well, it's my truck, but the dog helped himself to a ride," he explained while taking a drink of his coffee. "You wouldn’t happen to know who he belongs to, would ya?"

  "That dog?" she asked, while cracking yet another smile as she looked back down at him. "He's been roaming the town for some time now. I don’t think he belongs to anyone around here. He's kind of like the town stray. No actual home, but plenty of people looking out for him."

  That information could have fooled Ian if he hadn't known better. That dog was far from taken care of. Regardless to what this lady was saying, this dog showed signs of neglect and possible starvation. Even if he was getting fed, it wasn’t near enough to keep his ribs from showing through the dingy, mangled fur.

  The woman must have caught onto Ian's frustration in the matter, because she promised to get his food out to him before hurrying off in the direction of the kitchen. It was one thing to take care of a stray, but it was completely different to claim it was being taken care of when it clearly wasn't.

  Taking another gulp of his coffee, wishing the caffeine would kick in here soon, he looked out at the dog, who was now hanging its head out the passenger side window with its eyes on Ian as he sat in the booth by the window. Clearly, the dog was waiting and hoping for him to bring something out to him.