What If

“Why not?” I want any and all information I can gather.

“I can’t tell you.” Helga stays steady, but her manner tells me otherwise.

“Helga, have you been around Jessie the last four days? Have I done anything to hurt her? Done anything that would make her or you or anyone think I want anything but the best for her? I’m a cop. I can help her.”

Helga shakes her head. “Four days.” She huffs. “And that’s right. You’re a cop. And a promotion coming. Don’t you think Jessie loves you too? Think. Wants what best for you.” She jabs a finger to my head.

I take a moment and let my brain catch up.

Helga continues, “I shouldn’t tell you this, Jessie going to tell you herself, but you need to know. She told you she takes medications. She told you her struggle. But she didn’t tell you everything.”

I stare at her, feeling my stomach drop, something is coming.

“Jessie did something a few years ago after something bad happened to her. Tried to hurt herself. She better now, I know she tell you she have therapy and you understand she take medicine. You make sure she take her pills right, and you don’t judge her. But you push her right now…” She glares at me and stabs a finger in the air toward my face. “You lose your promotion because of her? I don’t want anything to push her back where she was. You want what’s best for her? Right now, you leave her be. She couldn’t handle guilt if she hurt you with all this nonsense going on. She has enough right now not have to worry about wrecking your life too. She’s fragile. Do right thing and stay away for now. Give her time she needs.”

“Fuck.” I shake my head, running a hand through my hair and gripping the back of my neck. The thought of losing her has me cold. Knowing she was in such a dark place at one time makes me sick. I want to protect her and make sure she feels loved and happy for the rest of her life.

How can this be happening?

All the memories of my brother come flooding back, and my eyes burn. If I lose Jessie, if something happened to her because of me, you might as well take me down with her because I wouldn’t live through it.

Helga raises her eyebrows and flutters her eyes. “You’re smarter than you look.”

“Did you see her?”

“No. She called. She’s with Heather and her husband. They good people. They will take care of her.”

“That’s my job.”

“You leave her be!” Helga shouts behind me as I turn.

I’m out the door and back in the truck. Jessie had me drop her at Heather’s one morning, so I know where she’s at. Conflict rages inside me. I’m her protector. I’m the one that can help her. I want to know what happened to her. Why she didn’t share it with me.

Why doesn’t she know I don’t give a shit about anything but her? But us.

On my way, I try her phone again, but she doesn’t answer. I try Gerald because I need to get a few things straight.

“Hey,” He answers.

“What’s the driver’s name?”

“Why?” Gerald’s voice deepens. “He’s still waiting for his bond to post.”

“Name, Gerald.”

“Derek Melrose. I’ll text you his mug shot and email you the report.”

“Thanks.” I swerve past a slow-moving car and take a right into the subdivision where Heather lives.

“There’s one thing,” Gerald says.

“What?”

“She’s got a record, man. Felony conspiracy to distribute.”

“What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry man. She was young, just turned eighteen. No suggestion that she’s done anything since, but it’s still there. People can surprise you.”

My stomach is in knots as I pull up in front of Heather’s house and put the truck in park, turn it off and head to the door. My phone in my hand dings and I bring up the text from Gerald.

I think my head is about to explode.

The mug shot looking back at me is the little fuck from the bar that first night I met Jessie. Something doesn’t smell right, and there’s no way my girl is mixed up with that little piece of shit.

My gut is telling me something is very, very off here.

I close my fist and pound on the door at Heather’s place, and it opens almost immediately.

“Where is she?” I ask, but Heather shakes her head.

“She’s gone, Torin. And don’t ask me where she went. I’m not going to tell you. She’s okay. She left you this.” She hands me an envelope with my name on the front. “She’s not a bad person. She wants the best for you.”

I snatch the envelope and rip it open.

Torin,

‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t begin to help this situation, I know. You’ve been amazing. But with things how they are, I can’t keep going on with you. It’s not our time. You have a life. A career that I will inevitably screw up and I can’t live with that.