Page 30 of Bound To Me

“Why are you calling me?” I asked, my voice becoming weaker.

He began to chuckle. “I want to see my sweet Jackie. Daddy misses you.”

I snorted. “That will never fucking happen.”

“No? How do you know I’ve not already seen you? How’s Los Angeles, by the way?”

I began to tremble and immediately hung up.

“What the fuck?” I cried to myself, tears streaming down my face.

He started calling back, but I turned my phone off immediately. My mind raced with panic:how did he get my new number? Is he in LA? Is he watching me? Why does he still want to torment me after all these years?

“Fuck this.” I went back into my room, grabbed my coat and purse, then headed down the street to Zee’s bar.

I walked in wearing leggings and Elliott’s flannel jacket, which made me look like a kid in a trench coat. It was past midnight on Sunday, but the place was still packed. I spotted Zee behind the bar, and she excitedly waved when she saw me coming.

“Hey! You’re back!” Her smile was infectious.

“Yeah, I—I’ve had a rough night. Can I get a vodka seven?” I asked, almost apologetically.

“Of course.” Her smile softened with understanding as she started making my drink.

She was quick to place my drink in front of me.

“Thanks. I’m Jackie, by the way,” I said, feeling bad about not greeting her in a friendlier manner.

“Nice to formally meet you, Jackie. So, why the bad night?” She put her elbows on the bar and intently waited for my answer.

I sighed and shook my head before I took a few gulps of my drink. “I was contacted by someone from my past. Someone…someone that abused me.”

Her mouth dropped in shock. “Fuck. Are you okay?” Her concern was evident, and she looked genuinely upset on my behalf.

I shook my head, taking a long sip of my drink. “Nope. Can I get another one?”

I quickly drank two more and became acquainted with Zee; I welcomed her friendly distraction. She was born and raised in LA, she just turned thirty-two, she had been a bartender for ten years and was sober for nine. I thought it was strange that she still wanted to be around alcohol every day when she was sober. I told her about moving back to LA because of the ominous phone call, about meeting Elliott, and we bonded over our love for David Bowie.

The bar was starting to clear the closer that 2 a.m. approached. I was four drinks in and not wanting to go back to my room alone. I wanted Elliott but I didn’t want him to see me drunk. I was already on the verge of tears and I didn’t want to talk about Michael, even though I knew that would inevitably be brought up because drunk Jackie was an even bigger mess than sober Jackie.

“Hey, let me walk you home. I can close up after,” Zee offered, breaking me out of a drunken daze.

I nodded slowly and unevenly. “Okay.”

I was relieved that I would have someone by my side when I would inevitably get murdered by Michael; my drunken mind was certain he was watching me at that very moment.

I stumbled off my seat and put my coat on, following Zee out the back door. She had her arm wrapped around my shoulders as we walked toward the main street, the cold air hitting me with a wave of surprise.

“I thought California was supposed to be warm,” I slurred out, suddenly laughing.

Zee kindly laughed beside me as she pulled her phone out.

“I mean, it’s forty-six degrees. Aren’t you used to that kind of weather?” she teased.

I shrugged. “I guess. I’m just like…I’m so fucking angry,” I murmured, my mind already on Michael. “Who does he think he is? He’s just a fucking rich boy that hates women. You look like her. She was very kind to me.” My thoughts were all over the place and I knew it even in my drunken state.

“Like who?” Zee asked, looking both ways as we crossed the street.

“Hana. The girl he kidnapped,” I stated dryly.

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