Page 12 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part One

The house is still dark and my parents have yet to wake up when I make my way down the stairs. I try not to stare into the voids for too long or my eyes play tricks on me. The dark was when the demons that took over my birth parents came out to play. To this day, I still can’t walk through a dark house. I have to run, so whatever is lurking doesn’t get to me.

Like the dark, humidity shows no mercy this time of year, either. As soon as I step out, despite the early morning sun peeking over the horizon, lighting the sky with shades of amber and gold, I’m already sweating. I can’t wait for summer to be over with. I don’t care which state I go to after college, but it better be somewhere freezing. I play hockey. I’m not made for the heat.

I check in with the guards at the gate, informing them that I’m going for a run and I don’t have my phone, to please alert me when it’s been thirty minutes. Chandler nods, giving me a smile. “Yes ma’am. Stay within the gates. I don’t need to remind you but for my sanity and all, I have to say something.”

“Yes, Dad,” I drawl, mocking him. Even if I didn’t have overbearing parents, the guards would take it upon themselves to fill in the gaps. I can’t complain because I feel safe enough to go running in the early morning through my neighborhood by myself without a phone knowing they will always watch and listen.

The neighborhood is huge and gated. No one comes in or out without the chief guard’s consent. Then each individual house has fences surrounding their grounds. The houses are few and far between, each one sitting on a couple of perfectly manicured acres. About fifty units all together with some of the richest people in the country. I’m friends with and have grown up with everyone in the neighborhood, including Foxy and Jensen and many other students that go to UB.

“Yes sir, head on a swivel. I got it.” The smile he gives me is warm and full of pride. Chandler was the one responsible for teaching me self defense growing up. He has been with our family the longest. He went to school with my parents. “Has Kai left already?”

“Yes, he did. Said to tell you he’d see you at school.”

Kai always left before any of us. He takes his martial arts training seriously, paranoid and always afraid we have targets on our backs because of who our parents are. One day, we will take over the business. Well, he will. No one is aware yet that I have no plans to.

He wants people to fear him for his skillsandhis money. I have a feeling he is falling right into our father’s footsteps. But I also feel like he wants to defend himself since he couldn’t when we were younger. We were little kids, not like we could do much damage if we knew how to fight, however, I understand why he wants to know self defense. I never want to be in a situation that I can’t control ever again, either.

By the time I’m halfway through my second pass of the neighborhood, sweat is rolling down every inch of my flesh, soaking through my cami and making it stick to my body like a plastic mold. I’m winded, which I chalk up to stress and lack of sleep, and my limbs are not wanting to function. Running much slower than I do, I carry on, when someone clears their throat. Prickles cover my skin, settling like a rock in my empty stomach. There is never anyone out this time of the morning and no one that ever wants to talk. The adults avoid each other like the plague and all the other offspring are all in cliques that we associate little with now that we’re older.

I slow my pace, not wanting whoever it is to think I am trying to run from them. The person lets out a whistle, and my stomach immediately drops.

I recognize that whistle. It’s Jonas.

I’m halfway around the neighborhood. If I scream, Chandler would hear me, but I don’t stand a chance at outrunning Jonas if I need to, even on a good day. He is a mean, determined drunk, willing to put his hands on me when we were together. I can only imagine what he will do now that he’s been drinking and I’ve been avoiding him. Nervousness flutters through my chest, or maybe that’s my heart hammering from a mix of adrenaline and exertion.

I should’ve brought my damn phone. My instinct is to scream, but I don’t want to egg Jonas on. He is much closer to me than Chandler is and will make it to me first. He used to train with Kai and run track. My brother says he is ruthless and hates the fact that I dated him. Get in line. Everyone hates him except for my parents. No, they believe he is the best candidate ever. They don’t know him like we do and never spent enough time around us to figure him out—mainly because Jonas kept me away from them.Hindsight and all that good shit.

The next gate is at least a quarter mile away. They would hear me and help, but I’m not sure if each house has their own guards. Not everyone is as paranoid as my father.

“Hey!” Jonas whisper-yells like I didn’t catch it there the first time. Only this time, he has ended up right behind me. The asshole is a damn ninja, even drunk. My heart skids to a stop, then comes back with a vengeance. I curl my fingers into fists as I slow to a stop and turn back to face him. It must catch him off guard, because he jerks to a halt and blinks at me.

“What didn’t you understand about me not answering your calls?”

“But you answered, one of them.” One half of his drunk mouth quirks up into a smirk that almost looks genuine, but I’m smarter than that. You can charm a snake, but you can make it stick.

“That’s because I was trying to sleep, moron, and needed you to stop.” He forces his fingers through his hair, messing it up in a way that would make him look sexy if he didn’t have me worried about what he planned to do to me.

Man, I hate the dark.

“I said I needed to hear your voice.” He takes a hesitant step forward, putting his hands up so I can see them.

“And you did, on my voicemail. All twenty-five of them!” He chuckles, and the sound warms my heart for a second before I squash that shit. Not all of our time together was bad. There were some moments when he could be the sweetest, most caring person ever to walk the earth, but more than not, there were multiple devils living on each of his shoulders. If they badgered him enough, he would give in to their desires no matter who he hurt.

“What do you want, Jonas? I’m trying to find some energy since you’ve kept me awake all night,” I ask, not caring what his response is, because let’s be honest, I already know what he wants.

“I want to talk to you. I miss you.” Jonas has the audacity to make himself sound pitiful, as if I might feel sorry for him. What an idiot.

He moves forward a few steps, his hands twitching. I act as if I have crud on mine and wipe them on my thighs as I scan the area, checking to see what route I can take if I need to get away from him. So far, he seems harmless. He’s so drunk and high that he won’t even come close to remembering being in my neighborhood. Thankfully, it’s quiet enough outside that if I scream, I can bring attention to the situation if needed.

“You don’t miss me, Jonas. You miss the idea of me. I hate to break it to you, but we weren’t good together.” He scrunches his brows and takes another step forward. I back away cautiously so I don’t set him off.

“What do you mean, we’re not good together? We’re fucking great together. We’re Bleudale royalty, Charley.” He raises his voice, excited.

“That’s the difference between us, Jonas. I’m not royalty and I don’t want to be. I may carry the name but I’m not their kid by blood.” The weight of that statement hits harder than I want it to. I love my parents, but I don’t have the same values as them.

“The only way people know that is if you say something. Keep your mouth shut and people won’t figure it out.”

“Are you kidding me?” I laugh. He is off his rocker. “I look nothing like my parents. It’s obvious I’m not their kid.”

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