Never Look Back (Coming Home Book 2) (13 page)

BOOK: Never Look Back (Coming Home Book 2)
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Next, I go through the text messages. One by one, I read them and still nothing about Jennifer. Even the texts between Rebecca and her boyfriend don’t mention anything related to me or Jennifer. There are other texts between people I don’t know, apparently family members of Rebecca’s or people she goes to school with. I come up empty handed.

Next, I look through the pictures that are saved on the phone. It’s frustrating to scroll through them and see pictures of Jennifer and Rebecca together, out having a good time. All of the photos appear to have been taken before I arrived here because nothing looks recent. I’d give anything to have one more look at the smile on Jennifer’s face just like the ones here. She had such an outgoing personality when I met her. I can’t believe I threw it all away.

I go back over to the coffee table and grab my phone. I can’t stand to see any more of Jennifer’s pictures. It hurts too bad right now knowing she’s somewhere else, carrying my baby, and there’s nothing I can do to bring her back.

“What the hell?” I say out loud. Something’s not right with my phone either.

I tap a couple of the keys and nothing seems to be working. I try to reboot it, but it doesn’t appear any different. I grab the charger from the table and walk outside to the breezeway. Surely I just need to charge it and it will be fine.

I give it a few seconds for the light to show it’s charging, then I restart it again. No! Don’t tell me my phone has been deactivated too. The charger prevents me from walking very far, but the screen shows the same “not active” symbol as Rebecca’s did. This just sucks.

If both phones have been deactivated, this tells me one thing—Jennifer and Rebecca were in contact with each other. They planned it this way. Now, I have no way of contacting anyone.

I feel the anger building inside me and I fight hard to control it. I snatch the charger from the wall and head back inside the apartment. I pick up Rebecca’s pink phone and, with as much force as possible, I throw the phone across the room towards the kitchen. It hits the side of the refrigerator and falls in the floor scattering into many pieces. Without thinking, I do the same thing to my phone. Instead of hitting the refrigerator, the phone hits the wall behind the kitchen sink knocking over the detergent and hand soap bottles along with a couple of other little trinkets Jennifer had sitting around the sink. It makes a loud noise but I don’t care anymore. I don’t care if the neighbors upstairs hear it, the people across the hallway hear it, or if no one hears it. I’m sick of this game both of them are playing.

Right now, I am so full of hatred and bitterness that I’m losing all self-control. In a matter of seconds, I begin throwing a huge tantrum like some little kid who doesn’t get his way. I start by tossing the pillows from the couch across the room, not caring what falls to the floor. I fling my arms around sending the lamp crashing to the floor taking with it several things that were beside it on the end table. I snatch a few pictures that are hanging on the wall and throw them across the room as well. And since there is no electricity, I do the same with the television. I flip over the table it’s sitting on and all the movies and cds go tumbling to the floor. I have myself a good time kicking them all over the room and jumping up and down on them, hearing the crunch of the plastic cases that once protected them. Stupid bitch should have taken them with her when she left. I pick up the inexpensive coffee table and chunk it in the direction of the patio door. Glass shatters and the hanging blinds sway back and forth.

Moving on to the kitchen, I open all the cabinet doors and drawers and toss anything I find. Before long, the room is littered with pots and pans, glasses and cups, bowls, plates, silverware. You name it, it’s all on the floor. Although I don’t feel any better by doing this, I am releasing my frustration. No one is going to pull a fast one over on me and get by with it. Both rooms looks like a tornado has touched down.

And then I snatch the microwave and with as much force as I can use, I throw it towards the hallway door. With a loud bang, it hits the door putting a big gash in it before landing in the floor. The microwave door pops open and the glass turntable inside slides halfway out.

With one quick sweep of my arm, everything on the kitchen table is flung across the room. The anger is building inside me and I’m about to burst.

Going in to the bedroom, I grab my duffel bag and start grabbing a few things that are hanging in the closet that are still clean and toss them on the bed. Since I’ve not had any electricity to do laundry, the remaining clean clothes I have are starting to get sparse. Looking around, I see all the things Jennifer left behind. Stupid spoiled bitch. If the girl hadn’t owned so many clothes, you would never know she had packed and left. One would honestly think she’s still living here. Why does one person need so many clothes?

I cram as many things inside the bag as I possibly can forcing the zipper to close. I still have on my clothes and shoes from last night and don’t bother changing into something clean. Glancing around the room, a thought occurs to me as I lay eyes on Jennifer’s jewelry box that sits beside the bed on the night stand. I pull out a few drawers and finger through a couple of things. Most of this stuff appears to be cheap costume jewelry or sterling silver, but I do come across a few things that may be worth a couple of bucks. I also see the bracelet I gave her for Christmas. I hold it in my hands as I contemplate whether or not I should take it. Hell, it’s not like she’s coming back here. I stuff as much of the jewelry as I can in my pocket.

I rip the sheets from the bed and stand the mattress up on its end. Right now, I could care less the way the apartment looks. I pity the person who’s going to clean it up but it damn sure isn’t going to be me.

I grab my bag and head for the front door. One quick glance around the apartment and I’m still shocked at the mess I’ve made. I hear feet moving from the apartment directly overhead and I have to wonder if they’ve paid any attention to the racket I’ve been making. I don’t bother closing the door behind me. The sun is blinding my eyes and I bring my arm up to shield my eyes as I stand on the edge of the sidewalk. I really enjoyed staying here at the apartment and was starting to feel like this was my home, but it’s all over with now.

I toss my bag in the backseat and back the car out from my parking spot. As I stop at the end of the driveway deciding which direction to take, I see two cop cars getting in to the turn lane to pull in to the complex. I’m fairly certain these guys are headed to check out the commotion I was causing. I timed this just right by leaving when I did. As soon as they turn in front of me, I quickly turn the opposite direction and accelerate quickly.

I’ve got less than a quarter of a tank of gas and it should get me to the next town that’s about thirty minutes away. I don’t need to stop here and give the cops a chance to track me down.

I can’t stand living like this any longer. I need to get a grip on my life. I need to make some important decisions and start doing something right for a change. There is no way I can continue living on the run.

When I get to the next exit, I look for a pawn shop. Hopefully, I can get enough cash out of the little bit of jewelry I swiped. It’s too bad I ruined the TV and all of those movies and cds. If nothing else, I could have sold them to an individual. Twenty or thirty bucks would have been better than nothing. Well, if I’m lucky, maybe the pawn shop will offer me enough money so I can buy a tank of gas and hopefully something to eat.

 

 

 

I spent a good part of the morning having some much needed girl talk with Todd’s mom, Beth. Even though she is close in age to my own mother, I can’t tell you how good it felt just to have some adult interaction. We talked about the baby and the changes my body has gone through since becoming pregnant; the classes I’ve taken at school and my plans for finishing my degree; the types of jobs my parents held before they retired; and what my plans are for the future. The one subject we didn’t discuss though was Todd. It was like spending time with Rebecca, only Beth is older and wiser and hearing all of this for the very first time.

Beth brought up when she was pregnant (all those years ago she reminded me) and how having a baby impacted and strained her marriage to Rick, but it was the greatest thing in the world and she wouldn’t have done it any differently.

Although it’s somewhat embarrassing, I did go into more detail about Brian and how we met. Then, I ended up telling her about last night and the latest stunt with the phone call from Rebecca’s phone. Beth had no idea I was dealing with this much. It’s no wonder I looked tired all of the time. She assured me both she and her husband were there for me and if I ever felt scared I was more than welcome to come up to the main house.

By mid-morning I figured I should be getting back down to the guest house so Beth could tend to the things she needed to do. I always keep the house tidy so there was little housework for me to do. After all, how dirty can it get with just one person living there? I grab my kindle and settle down on the couch to read. In no time at all, I’m sound asleep.

Shortly after two in the afternoon, a knock on the door wakes me from my nap. I must have been in a very deep sleep because it takes me a moment to focus. I walk to the door figuring it must be Beth. Instead, I find an older lady standing outside on the porch holding a pretty arrangement of flowers.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

“Yes, I have a delivery for Jennifer Collins.” The lady has a very pleasant tone. “Are you Jennifer?”

“Yes ma’am. But I’m not expecting any flowers.” I politely tell her.

“Honey, that’s what most people say. I just need you to sign my clipboard and I’ll be on my way.” She tells me as she passes over the clipboard that has a pen attached to it by a string.

I sign my name and she hands the flowers over to me. The vase is filled with beautiful sunflowers and I can’t help but notice how gorgeous they are. I set them down on the kitchen table and stare at the card that is attached.

Curiosity is getting the better of me, so I pull the envelope from the stick and slide my finger under the sealed flap. Holding my breath, I carefully pull out the card. I allow my eyes to roam over the card before reading it and I can’t help but smile when I see who the delivery is from. Todd.

“I thought you might need a little something to brighten your day. Thinking of you. Todd”

I reread the card several more times before placing it down on the table next to the arrangement. This is a nice surprise for sure. I never would have expected flowers from Todd.

I find my phone and sit down at the table. I know I should call him to thank him, but the thought of doing so sends butterflies through my stomach. If I’m getting all jittery about flowers from him, could there be a reason why? I decide to send him a text instead.

Me:
  Not sure the occasion, but the flowers are beautiful
. Thank you for thinking of me.

Almost instantly, I have a reply.

Todd:
  Just thought you deserved a little something for the special person that you are.
Me:
  Thank you again.
Todd:
  Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?
Me:
  Seriously?
Todd:
  Yes. Seriously. I feel like I’ve neglected you lately. How does 7 o’clock sound?
Me:
Perfect.
Todd:
  See you then.

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