Desertion
Page 18“He’s better. He’s doing better.” He tries a different angle, but I’m not buying into it. The man means nothing to me. I’m done trying to win his attention.
“Better? Well, good for fucking him. It doesn’t make the years he fucked up better. Jackson, I’m not talking about this.” I shake my head, trying to forget all thoughts of my father. “I need your help.”
“What’s new?” He sighs, going back to his food.
“Fuck off. We help you a lot.” I put it back on him. He scoffs but he knows it. The Rebels have helped Jackson on a few cases, and vice versa. We might have questionable ways of doing things in the club, but Jackson can’t deny it’s a two-way street with us.
“What do you need?” He drops the guilt trip and I’m thankful. I can’t talk to him about Dad.
“Paige Johnson,” I say and watch him stop eating and sit a little straighter. “You know who I’m talking about?”
“Everyone knows Paige Johnson. Been an open case for six years. Worked on it for a few years before I moved out of town. The whole thing never sat well with me.”
“So you don’t think she ran?” I ask, wondering why Bell thinks the police say Paige ran.
“I don’t think she ran. A few others have their opinion, but we’ve always hit a dead end. Why are you asking about her?”
“Her sister.” I go back to my burger, my appetite coming back.
“You know Bell?” I tense, waiting for his answer.
“Yeah, she’s been very active in trying to find Paige.” I nod, picturing Bell doing everything she could to help find her sister.
“Why are you asking about Bell?” He watches me carefully. The air around us changes and the vibe I’m getting off him isn’t good.
“She’s asked for help,” I shrug, knowing he won’t accept my blasé answer.
“No, Jesse, leave this alone. You’re in way over your head here.” He shakes his head, but I’m not going to listen to him.
“Can’t leave it alone, Jackson. Bell asked us to step in. We’re gonna try to do what we can.” He shakes his head again and I’m starting to see a pattern.
“What’s your relationship with Bell?” He changes tactic, but I pick up on it.
“She’s a friend.” I shrug, not prepared to label what Bell and I have. What do we have? I have broken visions of her jerking me off, me being an ass to her, and then blackmailing her into a date. Does that qualify as friends?
“Jesus, Jesse. She’s a good girl. Comes from a good family. She doesn’t need you messing her up by getting her involved with the Rebels.”
“No, because she’s innocent. Plus, her whole family is messed up.”
“Jackson, I appreciate your concern, but you know me, I’m not interested in innocent,” I lie, knowing innocent has recently become my preferred taste.
“Good.” He nods, buying into my lie. “She really doesn’t need your shit.” He gives a final jab, but I don’t let his judgment of me rub me wrong. I’m used to it. I love my brother, but like my father, he’s set in his own ways. The way we were raised is how he lives his life. I do not.
“So what do you know?” I asked, hoping he will shed some light.
“I’ll have to check the file, but from what I can remember, we don’t have much.” He sighs. “Paige was sixteen when she didn’t make it home that night after work. Her father was meant to pick her up, but she texted saying she had a lift with her boyfriend. When police interviewed her boyfriend, no plans were made. She finished work, left through the staff entrance, and she was gone.”
“Bell believes she’s still alive,” I say, more inclined to believe her. I get the family will always hold hope, but the conviction in the way she believes it, is enough to pull me into her way of thinking.
“Her body hasn’t been found. Yet.”
“You think she’s dead?”
“No, I don’t know what I think. Last bit of evidence led to no leads. It’s a dead end.”
“You’re not gonna do anything,” Jackson orders, but I don’t answer to him.
“I’m gonna try,” I counter knowing he will cave. As much as we piss each other off, we have each other’s back.
“I know you will.” He sighs before taking a sip from his drink.
“Your help would be appreciated.”
“You want my help, you come to games night this month.” He has me by the balls. Fucking games night.
“You remember what happened last games night?” I ask, thinking back to the last one I attended and the fight my father and I got into over playing a game.
“You two both need to get your shit together. And you need to not push him.”
“I don’t do any fuckin’ thing. He’s the one—”
“Mom wants you there,” he cuts me off, and of course he plays the mom card. “You want my help, you come.” Fuck. I’ve managed to keep my distance from that house over the years. Only needing to see my father at the bare minimum. Am I willing to cave and endure seeing him for Bell?