Page 49 of You are the Reason

* * *

Three whole days.

Three days of no contact, with either her or Jesse. I’m itching to know how she is, I can only find out so much from watching her. Regardless of how much it’s driving me insane, I need her to at least think I’m respecting her choice. A choice that isfucking stupid, but her choice none the less.

What she doesn’t know is that Jesse and I will put an end to whomever is causing trouble in her life. His idea is much more law abiding than mine, but we will iron out the details. Regardless on whether we kill the fucker, or Jesse gets him locked up behind bars, he won’t come near her ever again. The latter will require me to keep tabs on the bastard though, which is plain annoying. It also means I’ll have to finish the job once he’s released; but for now I’ll worry about finding whoever it is.

This will be the one and only time I will ever let her push me away. I will make sure she will never have to look over her shoulder again, unless it’s to reach for my hand; because once this is over, I’ll never leave her side again.

Buzzing from my pocket brings me out of my thoughts, glancing at the screen I see Jesse is calling. “Jesse, is everything okay?” I rush out, this whole situation has me on edge and I don’t like it.

“Hey Tanner, woah man — take a breath. Everything is fine.”

“Fine?Nothing is fine, Jesse.” I clip.

“I know, that’s why I’m calling. We need to get together and figure some things out. Can you come over —”

“I’ll be there, give me an hour?”

“See you then.” Jesse pauses before adding, “She went pretty dark there for the first forty-eight hours, but she seems to be doing okay today. I’ll be heading back there again tonight — I wanted to give her some space for the day.”

“I’ll be at your place soon.”

What else can I say? Thanks for updating me that she survived her depressive episode? The one caused by me walking away from her. Approaching the boxing bag in the corner, I lay into it, each punch a desperate plea for something to fill the void in my chest. My knuckles have healed slightly but it still stings. I welcome the pain, a distraction from the one which has been building in my chest. The boxing bag stills, Harley takes it in his hands and braces his stance. Lifting his chin, he motions for me to keep going and I nod, before continuing.

After a good twenty-five minute session my body collapses onto the couch, sticky with sweat. I could use a shower. Reading my thoughts, Harley tosses a towel at me, hitting me in the head.

“You stink,” he laughs. “Go upstairs and take a shower. I’ll make us something to eat.”

* * *

An hour later I’m sitting on Jesse’s couch. When I first arrived, he shook his head at the sight of my knuckles but he kept his mouth shut. Either he must be learning the meaning of a time and a place, or this whole thing with Kinsley has really shaken him up. I’m starting to think I was too hard on him in the beginning.

“What I can’t work out is who this ‘George Watson’ could be and why he warned Kinsley away from — all of this.” He gestures towards the living room floor where he has what looks to be everything from Kinsley’s spare room scattered everywhere.

“All of this.” I nod towards the mess. “Looked a lot more structured at her apartment.”

“Now who’s trying to joke around? Keep to what you’re good at, T.” Jesse laughs and I can’t help but smile.

“What about the footage of whoever dropped off the photos?”

“It gave us nothing, they had a balaclava on.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Back to square one.”

“Can I see? Just for the sake of it?”

Jesse was right, you couldn’t see a thing from the security footage. The guy even had gloves on, I thought maybe I could pick up on a piece of jewellery or a tattoo or something, something that Jesse had missed.

“Scrap this George guy, it’s leading us nowhere,” I say, getting aggravated. “What are the reasons we have that they would be pursuing Kinsley for? Why is she a target?” Fuck, there are so many more questions …Why her family? Is this all because her dad was a cop? No, it can’t be. It would need to be more, but what?

“These are my possible theories so far.” Jesse takes a breath and picks up a piece of paper, one that has his own handwriting on it instead of Kinsley’s. “One, this is all a retaliation from Kinsley’s dad being the police officer on the case. It doesn’t explain why they waited until now though. Two, they found out Kinsley has been using a Private Investigator and they have sent George Watson in to scare her off.”

“And three?”

“Well, that’s the thing, I’ve only got two theories so far.”

An envelope with ‘To My Daughter’ written in cursive handwriting sits on the coffee table and it catches my eye. “What’s this?” I ask.

“That’s the suicide letter, Kinsley’s mum left her. I haven’t read it —” Jesse opens his mouth to continue talking but closes it again.

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