Saving Jenna Read online

  "I'll only do that if you swear you’ll be up and ready," Ian hollered back, reaching for his own layer of shingles to tear off while he waited for Todd to own up to his word.

  "You bet."

  Tearing the rest of the shingles off had taken the last part of their day. They had taken an hour for lunch, reapplying sunblock and filling up on water before getting back to it. The sun was setting now, pushing a nice breeze along the way and shade to rest in.

  Ian grabbed a lawn chair and carried it out to the shade tree. G2 followed close behind, not missing a single minute without being by Ian's side. Everywhere he went, the dog was sure to go. "Grab a chair and have a seat, old man."

  Dragging a chair behind him, Todd picked a spot next to Ian and sat down. "What's it going to take you to quit callin' me an old man?"

  "I don’t know, old man. It doesn’t hurt your feelings, does it?"

  Todd got to laughing this time, kicking back in the chair with a beer in his hand. "Hell, what feelings? I'm as cold as this ice-cold beer."

  Cracking open a beer for himself, Ian held it out, tapping his can against Todd's. "Cheers to that, my friend. Cheers to that."

  Feelings were overrated. Hell, sometimes he wished he didn’t have time to feel or to think. The trouble with thinking was it always led to something, somewhere. Being manly and shit didn’t promise those sentimental thoughts away. Hell, he was manlier than the manliest man...if that truly said anything at all, it would say that he shouldn't have these thoughts about Jenna, or the feelings he was feeling. He wasn’t even sure that brunette was her.

  If it hadn't been, he was getting his hopes up for nothing. And if it had been, well, he had something to look forward to. He would do anything to have her back in his arms. He would do anything to prove to her just how stupid he had once been to ever let her go. Young and dumb, wanting to be a hero and shit, but he couldn’t even save the only love he ever had.

  Chapter 4

  She didn’t know what to expect when she got home from work. He had probably seen her leaving work on a break she should have never taken. And if he hadn't seen her, he probably heard about it from one of his watchers. He had threatened her a million times about having people watch her every move. He had once admitted to paying them quite a bit to keep an eye on her.

  Pulling up to the house, she realized it portrayed the life she had always wanted. The only problem was what went on inside that people didn’t know about. Only she and John knew. She was good at acting. Sometimes too good. Even on short visits back home to her mom and dad's place, she put on quite the act. It hurt to know she had once been able to tell her mom everything, but not this. And she never would. It would kill her mom to know the details of this dreaded life. Every mother wanted their daughter to be happy. Grow up, fall in love, and live happily ever after...like some fairy tale she had been read when she was a kid.

  Well, this wasn’t a fairy tale. It was more like a nightmare, never knowing if today was going to be the day her head would bounce off the cupboards again, or if everything would be okay, like a million times after his meltdowns. The apologetic gestures, filled with nothing but bullshit apologies and more empty promises. Flowers would decorate the table, a mere example of his way of covering up the damage he had caused.

  Shifting the car into park, her heart raced as it bounded against her chest. Shutting the car off, she gathered her purse and shoved the smokes deep inside, making sure they were out of sight and out of mind. If he caught onto her smoking again, it was hard telling what the hell he would do.

  She walked up the narrow path to the front steps of their neat and tidy front porch, decorated by heavy pots full of flowers and a swing that was hardly used. She couldn’t remember the last time she was able to sit outside in that swing and forget all of her troubles while reading a good book. That life had long since passed her by the day he decided to become someone she no longer knew.

  There was a stillness that surrounded the front porch. Usually the quiet would comfort a person, but it had the opposite effect on her. The quiet usually meant one of two things—he was either passed out drunk in the chair or he wasn't home yet. The odds were not in her favor with either of those two things. Sure, there was a possibility that if he wasn’t home already, he would come home in a good mood. But, like all the other times, his mood shifted randomly with no prior setoffs or warnings. She had seen the worst of the full-blown rage coming from the man who was supposed to love her and be her protector, but instead, he was the danger that wreaked havoc in her life and made her fear for her life on any given day of the week.

  Things would change soon. At least, that's the lie she would always find herself reciting in the mirror the day after his attack. What was one more bruise when she’d had plenty in the past? She was damn near immune to the beatings.

  Taking a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, she twisted the knob and pushed the door open. The smell of grilled food, something along the line of steaks or hamburgers, filtered through her senses. Clattering coming from the kitchen, she assumed was him preparing dinner for the two of them.

  Slipping off her heels, she dropped everything on the table as she made her way to the kitchen. If he had made their dinner, that could only mean one thing.

  He came around the corner from the kitchen, carrying a plate stacked with delicious looking food—a variety of steak and cheeseburgers, just as her senses had guessed. "Hello, dear," he greeted, pecking her on the cheek as he strode by. "I made us dinner. I thought since you have had a long day at the diner, I would take it upon myself to help out around here."

  The smile she offered was yet another one of her fake ones. She couldn’t be too happy, because she had learned early on that just when she thought things were great and back to normal for good, the shoe dropped and the rage ensued. There was no telling if she was truly happy that he had prepared their meal for the night, even though she loved grilled food just as much as the next person.

  Setting the plate on the table, he looked back at her. Her tension must have been evident. No matter how hard she tried to relax she couldn’t.

  "Dear, why don’t you go wash up and get ready to eat. I'll bring everything to the table and make you a plate."

  His voice was calm and unmoving. As if she almost needed for him to tell her once more, she stood still, watching him prepare the table. His eyes glanced up, catching hers for a moment before she looked down, avoiding all confrontation.

  "Dear," he said, his voice deep and his tone demanding. "Did you not hear a word I just said?"

  Fumbling with her words, she managed to get out that she heard him perfectly clear and was just surprised that he had done so much for her—quickly changing her wording to say for them. She held her breath when he furrowed his brow and kept his gaze on her. The heat in his eyes boring into her skin caused her to feel flush and nauseas. "I'll go wash up now and get ready to eat. Thank you."

  Counting the steps she had until she reached the bathroom, she couldn’t make it fast enough before his voice paralyzed her.

  "You think I've done all of this for you?"

  Hesitating, she wondered if it would be best to continue on her way, pretend she hadn't heard him. Besides, she could make the excuse she had plenty on her mind lately, what with bills and working all those extra hours at the diner that the Lord knew she wasn’t used to.

  "Turn and look at me when I talk to you, Jen," he said with a tone that made her skin crawl and her heart race.

  She cringed involuntarily every time he said her name. She turned slowly, shifting her eyes from the floor to meet his, but quickly dropped them to the floor when she realized his expression was unreadable. That expression was the one that scared her the most. Like an animal knowing they were in the line of their prey but couldn’t run for fear of being outnumbered or taken down.

  He cleared his throat and chuckled. "What I meant to say is don’t take too long. I wouldn’t want you to eat a cold supper."

  "I'll onl
y take a minute," she said, donning her fake smile before turning and beelining it to the bathroom without second thoughts. At least once she was in the bathroom, she could shut the door and calm herself down. She had made it through the first round of his volatile mood, she could do it again.

  Washing up, she scrubbed the day-old mascara from her eyes and dried off with a towel. She would get a shower in the morning before leaving for her shift at the diner. Flipping the switch off and closing the door behind her, she made her way to the kitchen table.

  It didn’t take long to realize the atmosphere had changed. The time it had taken her in the bathroom until now, the tension was thick and his mood was uncertain. He sat on the opposite end of the table, holding a bottle of booze to his lips—lips holding that smirk she hated.

  Pulling the chair away from the table, she sat and slid closer to her plate of food. Grabbing her fork and knife, she jumped when he said, "What took you so long in the bathroom?"

  Setting down the utensils next to her plate, she looked up at him. This time without fear, but annoyance. She was tired of his petty questions all the time. "I didn’t take that long."

  His eyes grew dark as he narrowed his gaze. "You were in there for what seemed like an eternity. Tell me, what were you doing?"

  Crossing her hands in front of her, she knew it was the wrong thing to do, but she couldn’t help the need to say what she had to say and how she was going to say it. "Like I said, I didn’t take that long in there. I did my usual routine of scrubbing off my makeup and washing up. Isn't that what you had asked me to do?"

  "Don’t get smart with me." His tongue was sharp and his tone matched the tension in the room. "Are you sure you weren't scrubbing off more than just your makeup?"

  Taken aback by the absurd question, she sat with her mouth agape. She couldn’t believe he was now on this kick. Where the hell did this crap come from? She had given him no reason to ever think such nonsense. Ever.

  "I heard there's a new man in town," he finally said, tipping back his bottle and keeping his focus on her as she took a bite from her plate. "I heard he's fixing up that rental property across town. You know the one I'm talking about?"

  She shook her head. The last thing she had time to pay attention to was a rental property that didn’t concern her.

  "Sure you do. We've talked about it quite often over the last few months."

  Again, she shook her head before taking another bite. If this was any indication what tonight was going to be like, she needed to eat so she had enough energy to put up with his antics.

  "Okay, whatever you say," he said, taking the last gulp from the bottle and slamming it down on the table, causing her to startle and nearly jump out of her skin. "Grab me another, please."

  Doing what he asked to minimize the chances of another reason to argue, she slid from her seat and went straight for the kitchen. Taking her time reaching in the fridge for his beer, she took another deep breath. Tonight wouldn’t be that kind of night. There was no way she would allow it. She had to be up early—five o'clock early—and she needed the rest of the night to relax.

  Carrying the bottle to him, she could tell by the expression on his face that he was wanting to dig for one hell of an argument. She set the bottle down next to him and smiled—her way of offering a truce to whatever kind of mood he was currently in.

  "So, do you know who this guy is?"

  "Can't say that I do."

  She shoved half her food to the side and picked at the rest with her fork. If he was talking about the man who had come into the diner this morning, she wasn’t exactly lying. She was telling him what she knew—nothing about that man. The fact he looked a lot like Ian Riley, an ex-boyfriend who had a promise to be more someday, was nothing of his concern.

  "My guys told me they saw him in the diner this morning." His words were calculated as he kept his eyes on her, like a predator watching their prey...waiting for the right time to pounce. "I thought you would have seen him since he came in on your shift."

  Picking through what remained on her plate, she suddenly lost her appetite. He hadn't been lying when he had told her he had people watching her. And if they weren't watching her, they were definitely watching the diner.

  "Is that a yes or a no?"

  "No. I have no idea who that was."

  He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as he rested his beer on his arm. "So you do know about the man I’m talking about? The one my guys had seen?"

  His question was more of a statement. Almost as though he was calling her bluff, reading past the poker face and the web of unclarity. "No, I do not know him."

  "But you saw him?"

  Exhaling the breath she had been holding, she let out an annoyed sigh. "Yes, I saw him. Cat waited on him. I don’t know who he is or what he's in town for."

  Silence ricocheted heavily against her eardrums. Wishing for nothing more than the silence to be broken and his focus on her to be taken away, she waited it out.

  "Cat, huh? Is she your cover-up for all of this?"

  Anger surged. A rage she hadn't felt in a long time. "Cover-up for what?"

  Her arms flailed, knocking over the shakers, spilling salt and pepper across the table. It was the reaction he had hoped she would have. The reaction he had waited all night for. The reaction that had just now told him she had something to hide. Even if she didn’t, he wouldn’t believe her.

  "Cat, the cover-up for the diner whore," he said, nearly mocking her from across the way. Laughing and cackling like a madman, waiting for her to do something crazy so he had a reason to do something even crazier—not that he needed a reason.

  "Don’t you ever call me that again." She was full of rage, and even though she had learned to never turn her back on him for fear of what might come at her when she least expected it, she stormed off to the other room.

  She heard him coming down the hallway. His footsteps heavy against the floor. She saw it coming before it happened. Tomorrow would be another day of covering up, but unlike what John thought, the only thing she had to cover up was the bruises he left on her face.

  Chapter 5

  Ian didn’t mind waking up early on the second day. He was actually getting quite used to beating the alarm clock and getting the day started before the sunrise. Waking up in West Grove at the rental house was somewhat peaceful and relaxing. The first night crashing here went fairly well, even though it needed quite a bit of cleaning inside before he called it good enough to fall asleep in. He had been hesitant at first to stay here, not sure of how clean the last tenants had really left the place. The thing was, after a few hours of cleaning up, scraping away a few dirty spots here and there on the countertops and sweeping up the floors, the place was starting to look presentable.

  Pushing the rollaway cot he had slept on last night up against the living room wall, he made his way into the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day. Allowing the water to run long enough to get the rust out that had managed to make its way into the lines, he was able to get a hot shower, which felt great after a good night of sleep.

  Massaging the shampoo into his hair and taking a few extra minutes rinsing off, he was ready to get on with the day. He had things to do and people to see. Hopping out of the shower, he hoped in a silly, dumb sort of way that the brunette would be at the diner again today.

  Wrapping the towel around his body, he made his way to the sink. Grabbing his toothbrush, he loaded it with toothpaste and jammed it into his mouth before he rolled on the good ol' Old Spice deodorant and cologne. Slicking gel through his hair, he styled it the way he always had and always would. Some things never changed, and he doubted they ever would.

  Stumbling out of the towel hanging loose around his waist, he managed to get dressed in record time. He had spent less than twenty minutes getting ready and he was proud of that number. There was never a need to spend more than that getting ready.

  Swiping his truck keys off the table on his way to the do
or, it didn’t take him long to realize that G2 was already sitting patiently waiting for him to open the door. As soon as the door cracked open, he made a run for the truck.

  Ian followed close behind, looping his belt through his pants on his way. So maybe he technically needed a few extra minutes past twenty, but either way, he was doing good on time and he would like to keep that way.

  Climbing into the truck, he buckled in before turning the key. G2 was in the passenger seat with his head hanging out the window. The damn dog was growing on him and soon it would take more than an owner to get the dog away from him. Shifting into reverse, he backed out of the driveway and headed off in the direction of Todd's.

  Today would be the day Todd would be ready, no doubt about it. He had felt bad about missing out yesterday. Bad enough he missed out on the damn good breakfast at the diner. There's no excuse to miss out on breakfast. Well, unless you're three sheets to the wind and not even sure where you passed out.

  Pulling up to Todd's, he tapped on the horn and gave it a good honk or two. His house was still surrounded by garbage and whatever else littered the grass. Ian made a mental note to stop over sometime and help clean this place up before he left town. It was the least he could do for the guy.

  The door swung open. G2 sat forward, fully alert and focused on who was coming out of the house. Todd slammed the door behind him as he patted his pockets like he was checking for his keys or possibly even his smokes.

  "Told ya I'd be ready," he grumbled as he climbed into the passenger side of the truck, shooing G2 over toward Ian. Ian reached around the dog, offering the guy a hand to assist his climb into the seat. G2 looked straight off in the distance, not minding the commotion surrounding him. Ian offered a quick scratch behind his ears before shifting the truck into drive and heading into town. The diner was calling his name and his curiosity was running wild.