Page 27 of Mind Pucked

As I go, hot tears stream down my face, and I start to sob. All the emotions of the past few minutes with that man come flooding in, and no matter what I do, I just can’t stop them.

I go over the facts as I cry. I know there was a car accident two years back. I know my brother is gone…dead or otherwise, he was deemed dead six months later. Now, I know his wallet was found, but nothing more than that.

As I get into my car and head down the road, tears are still freely falling. I wonder if I should feed Jackson information that might lead to him realizing who I am. Would that knowledge make the connection work in my favor, or will it harm my investigation?

If there’s even an investigation to be had. I don’t really know what happened to my brother, and unless I’m able to prove Jackson’s involvement, I won’t know any more than I did two years ago.

6

JACKSON

Isit with my head in my hands as I wait for Amelia to put Hayden to bed. All I can think about is our conversation last night. I divulged more to her than I should have. There’s no way I ever should have mentioned the wreck to her, or the fact that a wallet was found.

She doesn’t know anything about me and my life when my wife was alive, and she doesn’t need to know anything now. I hired her to be a nanny, and that’s all she needs to be. I love the fact that my daughter gets along with her, especially when she hasn’t taken to women for so long, but it still puts me off that Amelia fished for information last night.

Just like last night, I’m sitting in the same chair with a drink in my hand. It’s my nightly routine and what gets me through most evenings alone. I have no desire to go out and party with the guys who are as close to me as brothers, nor do I want to fuck around. I’m content sitting here, drinking a beer, and listening for my daughter to wake up.

I hear the steps creak as Amelia comes down. Again, she goes to pick up the toys.

“I can do that,” I grumble as I get up and storm off to my office to take a breather.

I don’t know why she thinks she has to stick around to do this, or what she thinks she’ll gain by hanging around. If she thinks I’m going to talk to her tonight she’s sorely mistaken.

I pace in the middle of my office with the door open, thinking about what I need to say to her as my anger mounts. I know her curiosity could simply be harmless, but deep down I feel like she’s either digging for information or trying to get my attention in a way that I’m not ready to give.

I look around at all the trophies from various hockey games and tournaments. The pictures on the wall are of my brothers—the men I’ve spent so many years playing the game with. This truly is the only room without pictures of my wife and little girl in it. It’s a shrine to my life as a hockey player.

I seethe for long enough and storm back out to the living room, hoping she’s gone. When I see her coat still here, I roll my eyes and sit back down in my seat, sipping my beer. It’s gone warm, disgusting, but I down it nonetheless.

Amelia walks out of the kitchen, and I can feel her eyes on me. I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but she has to leave. She evokes so many feelings in me that I don’t want or need at a time like this.

“I really don’t mind doing this before I have to leave each night,” she offers as she picks up the last toy in the middle of the room.

That’s not the point. I’m more than capable of doing it, and it’s not in her job description. Once the kid goes to sleep, the nanny is no longer needed. I think about telling her exactly that, but I can’t bring myself to, not just yet.

“I can do it,” is all I say with my teeth gritted.

“Jackson,” she begins, and the use of my first name sends me over the edge.

“Don’t you think I already feel bad enough that I can’t be there for my little girl all the time? That I have to hire someone to watch over her when I’m not around? Don’t you think I mightwantto do some of these things myself?” I note the hurt in her eyes right away.

“I—” she begins, but it comes out as a stammer. “I—” she tries again.

“You what?” I snap.

“Are you okay? I mean, really okay?” she asks, as she lets the toy fall back to the ground. “It’s okay to not be okay, and to need help. Like I said, I don’t mind at all, and you seem to be trying to unwind…I really don’t mind.”

“You…keep…saying…that,” I say through my teeth, getting up from my chair.

I turn and face her once more, not sure what there is to say.

“I’m fine,” I say curtly as I wave my hands around sarcastically. “I am fucking fine,” I say again. “I don’t need someone to talk to, I don’t need a nanny turned therapist, I don’t need a built-in housekeeper, and I don’t want to talk about my dead wife anymore!”

“Fine,” she says as she looks down and leans over to pick the toy up off the floor. “But I am here to help if you need me.”

“Are you done for the day with the duties in your job description?” I bark at her.

“Yes. Hayden is in bed,” she says tentatively as she heads for the toy room to deposit the toy in her hand. “Asleep,” she adds.

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