Page 51 of Wild Cub

“I told him to keep tabs on you, try to convince you to join us. Accessing your computer was a nice touch. He wiggled his way into that for us. All in all, seems like he did a bang up job getting you to say yes to him. You’ve seen the evidence so far and I’m guessing there’s more to uncover.” Rawlings finishes his cigarette.

My eyes go wide. The bugs on my computer. I look at Jackson, hoping it isn’t true. “That was you? You hacked my computer? I thought it was Carla because she was slinking around my office. That day when I had my meetings and you wanted to talk about what you found?” I lunge at him but I’m stopped by one of the brutes in the background.

He used me. Heexploitedme. “You just gonna sit there like a bastard and not own up to what you did?” He doesn’t speak. “No, I didn't think so. Manipulation from day one.”

Alexander. No he’s Jackson again. He stills, putting on a mask. I can sense the fight in him, his hands tensed on the arms of the chair, avoiding eye contact. The internal fight of his position in this club and this thing that is between us. He’s scared, no ounce of strength. He knows. He knows that one look into my eyes and he would be done. His body froze in time, every muscle strong. There is a part of me that wants to strangle him and the other part wants to understand him and wrap him in my arms.

I turn my attention to Rawlings. “What exactly are you asking me to do?Sir.” I start to ask. If we have the same goal, I might be convinced to ignore Jackson for the greater good.

“You’re right, Jack. Quite the mouth on her.” He leans forward, his elbows on the desk. “Simple, gather intel, do some more digging, report back to us. We’re trying to get a plan together and need your help.” The instructions sound so simple but teaming up with the Grim Wolves feels like the road to hell.

It’s like Rawlings can sense my hesitation. “Listen, we want this to end just as much as you do. People disappearing, toxicity in the city, not good for business. You do good work, and you seem to actually care. We know that your boss, Sheldon, is mixed up with some bad people. He’s working with someone, not completely sure who and how, and by some association, so are you. You want to make people safe again? Help us. It’s up to you, but I’d choose wisely.” Wait, Sheldon? Seriously? Since when does Sheldon have the brains or the balls to work with the criminal underground?

I can’t breathe, I'm so angry. I’m no longer seeing red – it’s fading into black. Not even Cape Breton is going to help me here. I can feel the heat rise up my neck.

“You’re a smart lady. Mouthy. Got an attitude. You’re a fighter. I wish it didn’t have to come to this, but people trust you. You just needed a little push. Don’t look too hurt, my dear.” Hurt isn’t the word I would use. I’m holding back pain and tears, not wanting to show weakness. Alexander,Jackson, has yet to even look at me.

“Fine,” I bite out, forcing myself to ignore my instinct to run. “I’ll help, but only because these are my people. I only have one condition.”

“I’ll entertain it,” Rawlings smirks.

“I want in on the planning. I have a shelter, my people, my community to protect. I cannot afford to be left in the dark. I walk if that does not happen. You need my knowledge, my ties, my access.” I stand up, firm in my stance.

“Honey, is that a threat?” Rawlings cocks his head at me.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, Rawlings,” Jackson warns. I scoff inwardly; Jackson knows.

“No sir, that’s a promise. And I…” I narrow my eyes at Jackson, “keep my promises.”

“Deal. But Bjorn -- you get one chance. I call the shots.” He extends a hand for me to shake. I reach out and grip it, signing my life away.

“Your rodeo, your bulls. I’m just the clown. In more ways than one.” I glare at Jackson. I let go of Rawlings’ hand and beeline out the door. I’m beyond tears and sadness. I’m full of raging anger. I can hear a distinct voice calling out for me, but I’m ready to drive into the sunset and never look back.

Hands grab me from behind and spin me into a body. Hands grip my sides, and I’m afraid it might leave a bruise. I shove Jackson, and he staggers a little. I go to throw a left hook at him, but he blocks me. I try to front kick him away from me. He moves out of the way and wraps his arms around me. I stomp on his foot and back away from him. My chest heaves from anger and exertion.

“You fucking dirty ass motherfucker. I was starting to trust you. I started to let my guard down. Ifelt something. You used me! Here I thought you had an actual heart. Congratulations –you fooled me.” I punctuate each statement with a punch to anywhere I could reach. He throws his hands up to calm me and slow me down.

“Do you even understand how many people you put in danger? How many people you could have hurt if any of the information on my computer had gotten out? I could have lost my job, Jackson. You manipulated me, and you could have destroyedlives.” I shove him more with each accusation. I can’t believe I fell for it. I hate myself for letting him in, for thinking I could be safe with him.

“The goal wasn’t to manipulate you, Teresa. Maybe it started out as a job, but it isn’t like that anymore. You’re not an assignment to me.” Jackson just stares at me, and I wish I could carve those eyes out of his head so that I didn’t feel the pull of them anymore. “I got a taste of you and wanted more. You made me forget about the assignment. I saw something different than expected and I made a few mistakes in the end, but I needed to find the time to tell you everything.” He inches closer to me.

I see red. “You asshole. You call yourself a savior but don’t recognize when someone’s been abused and used by her own demons. Look where my trust got me again: used and abused and fooled.” I want to take my knife and make good on my promise from the woods. Jackson goes still, like my words were bullets to his chest. All traces of the Alexander I thought I knew reverts back to the Jackson that is a parasite in my life. Everyone around us is looking at us, contemplating whether to intervene or not.

He reaches out to touch me, and I smack his hands away. “Don’t fucking touch me. If I need to talk with someone from now on, I’ll talk to Rawlings. I fucking learned my lesson.” I shove him, because that’s all I can do to release any kind of emotion. “The choice is clear here. You chose to hurt me in the process of keeping face in this club.” I begin again. Letting my words fly out.

“That promise of “Darlin’, I’ll hand you the knife” was a promise you didn’t keep. Sweet words that turn into tragic lies,” I bite out with fury in my voice. I start to walk away from him, searching for my keys.

“Teresa, you know I wouldn’t choose to hurt you.” His anger begins to show, but eases back down. “Everything got screwed up,” he lets out with a sigh.

“No, it’s exactly what you mean. All I know is that I made the same mistake twice now, and I’m the idiot who doesn’t see the signs after all these years.” I walk further away toward my car.

Jackson’s fuming now. “You’re just going to walk away instead of talking it out?”

I practically chortle. “You had so many chances. So yes, I ain’t making the same mistake twice.”

“The same mistake twice? How was I supposed to know there was a first time?”

I say nothing to that. I don’t owe him an explanation. I don’t want to talk about it. My story to tell, in which I had hoped to never relive it or tell him completely. Perhaps that was my mistake.

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