Jagger: SRMC #1, page 8
I often wondered if she had some great connection to our ancestors, or if she was psychic. Pondering the implications of that possibility, I should have been surprised but wasn’t when she explained, “Your cousin called, worried that you’d left without telling anyone. She may have mentioned your young man was, in her words, an ass to you this morning. So, I’ll ask again. What did he do?”
I knew Cheyenne would be worried, but I never expected her to rat me out to Granny. I didn’t want the embarrassment of anyone knowing how he’d claimed me and threw me away in the same week. The burning in my eyes and nose grew as I looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep my emotions in check. Suddenly, I realized I wasn’t as pissed as I was hurt, and that pissed me off more.
Bringing my gaze back to Granny, I let the tears well in my eyes as I explained without going into too much detail. “Last night was the first night since we started talking that we had any . . . alone time.” I tried to divert my eyes, not wanting to talk about sex with Granny, but she wasn’t having it.
“Did he suck in bed?” she asked as I took a swallow of coffee. Nearly choking, I spit it out in a cough and reached for a napkin to clean it up as I fought to catch my breath. “Seriously, you and Cheyenne need to stop being such prudes. Everyone has sex, and if he sucked at it, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”
“Granny,” I began, “it’s not like that.”
“Then what? Because it’s not like you to take off without telling your cousin where you’re going, and it’s been a while since you just dropped by without calling, not that I mind. But I can’t give you advice if you don’t tell me what happened.”
“Last night, we left the bar on the ranch,” I explained, and she nodded, knowing about the clubhouse. “And on the way back across the ranch, I knew we were meant . . . meant to be outside under the stars.” That’s as much as I was going to say about the location or actions, and I hoped she understood.
“You felt the universe calling you to become one with your mate. I’ve been there,” she added, and I tried not to let my eyes grow wide at her admission.
Granny had always been a free spirit, but lately, she was more open about things of a personal nature, and while it was great learning what her life had been like and the things she’d experienced, hearing about her having sex was a little too much to stomach.
“It was . . . I can’t even find the words to describe the feeling of our souls becoming one under the sea of stars shining down on us. But this morning . . .” I began, and over the next few minutes, I told her what he said and about his accusations against me while she sat silently and listened.
When I was done, she reached over and handed me a tissue to wipe the one errant tear that had escaped while I exposed my broken heart to her.
Finally, I said, “But I know what this week was, and I was stupid enough to let my heart get involved. I don’t blame him. I was the easy one who fell for the bad boy. I’ve learned my lesson.”
Shrugging, I finished my coffee and felt the ice building in my chest. I wasn’t sad anymore. Nor was I pissed. Honestly, I was resolved, and that was scarier than any other emotion. I was resolved to be alone, only seeking men for the physical comfort they could provide. I was resolved that I may never get married or have children, and that was something I’d learn to live with. And I was resolved to rebuke any explanations from Jagger. He didn’t owe me anything, and I was going to tell him just that.
His claim was made in the heat of the moment, and I should have heeded Cheyenne’s warnings. Jagger wasn’t someone who wanted to be tied down, but I was stupid enough to think he was.
“What’s going through your head? Because the look on your face has gone from angry and hurt when you arrived to what I think now is apathy.”
Standing from my chair, I kissed Granny on the cheek and took my cup to the sink. Walking toward the back door, I looked over at her and said, “I just needed to hear myself say it, and I realize how silly I was. I’ll call Cheyenne as soon as I get home and let her know how sorry I am for taking off.”
“What are you going to do, Jackie?” Granny asked as I opened the door.
Stepping out the door with the knob in my hand, I replied, “I’m going to get back to the life I know and stop trying to force something out of the universe that I’m not destined for. Don’t worry about me, Granny. I’ll be okay. Thanks for the advice and coffee.”
Without giving her another chance to speak, I closed the door and walked down the steps to my car. As I backed out of her driveway, Granny stepped out onto the porch and watched as I pulled away. The disappointment was clear on her face, but I couldn’t see anything but pity, and that wouldn’t do me any good.
Driving to my house, I parked in my driveway and walked up the steps. My door had three locks on it, since I was alone and isolated on the reservation, and after rolling my suitcase inside, I disarmed the alarm before closing the door and securing the locks.
Everything was where I’d left it, and as I picked up the pile of mail from the door slot that I’d stepped over as I entered, I began to look through the envelopes. Walking to the kitchen, I took a seat at the bar and started separating it into junk, bills, and other. The bills were expected, so I moved them to the side after opening them. After quickly glancing through the junk, I tore those envelopes up and placed them on the other side.
The last pile had a few different things. One was a renewal notice for an old magazine subscription that I wasn’t going to renew. Another was something from my dentist about a cleaning. A few were junk disguised as important mail, and finally, there was a brown envelope, slightly larger than the others, that had no sender information. I almost tore it up but decided to open it, and when I did, I was confused about what I was seeing.
It was a picture of a small cluster of trailers with at least a dozen old or broken cars in the yard. There wasn’t anyone in the picture, but something about it seemed familiar. Staring at it for at least ten minutes, my mind began swirling over who could have sent it, where it was taken, and most importantly, why it was sent to me.
Dropping the picture onto the counter, I stood, and it was then I remembered I needed to text Cheyenne.
“Crap,” I said to the empty house as I walked into the living room, grabbed my phone from my purse, and took a seat on the couch.
Me: I’m sorry I left without telling you. I’m home now and will call you in a few days to talk. And I’m sorry if I caused any problems for the club. I don’t plan to hold Jagger to his claim, so please let him know when you see him that he’s off the hook.
Placing my phone on the coffee table, I stood from my seat and walked into my bedroom. I needed a shower before I went to see my dad, so I turned the water on before getting undressed and jumping in. My hair was clean, so I clipped it up before stepping under the spray. The soreness between my legs was intense as the warm water ran down my body, but I refused to allow my emotions to overtake me again.
I deserved better, and he didn’t deserve my tears. After washing and rinsing, I turned off the water and stepped out to dry off. My clothes were in the bedroom, so I wrapped a towel around my body and walked in to get dressed. Nothing fancy for tonight with Dad, and tomorrow, I was getting back to my job.
Well, job might have been a strong word. My passion was seeking to put a spotlight on the reservation’s infrastructure issues, and I planned to spend a few days in the rural areas, taking pictures and documenting what I could. I never wanted to exploit anyone, but there needed to be attention on what was going on up here.
After I inspected myself in the mirror and shrugged at my acceptable appearance, I unclipped my hair and walked into the living room. I had a few hours before Dad would be home, and the need for sleep was growing with each passing minute. I refused to think about why I didn’t get much sleep last night as I took a seat and picked up my phone to see who had reached out.
Pulling my notifications down, I removed the one from Jagger without reading it and focused on Cheyenne’s reply.
Cheyenne: I’ve been worried about you, and no one wants to be let off the hook. He fucked up and I’m not excusing what he said, but you need to talk to him. He’s been outside in the garage with Trent for the last few hours, beating himself up for what he said and how he reacted. Please, Jackie. Give him a chance to explain.
Shaking my head, I typed out my reply.
Me: He doesn’t need to explain. I know this past week was a mistake and I’m not a child that needs talking to. He’s free to do whatever he wants and to say whatever he wants. But I don’t have to listen.
Cheyenne: I know you’re hurt, but everyone makes mistakes. He just wants to make things right with you.
Me: There isn’t anything to make right. We had a good time this week, but I have a life here and he’s got his life there. This was a ‘relationship’ in name only and now it’s over. No harm, no foul, no worries.
I could see her typing something, so I quickly typed out another message.
Me: I need a nap after a long week, but I’ll call in a few days.
Turning my phone off, I placed it on the charger and laid down on my couch. After pulling the blanket off the back to cover my legs and grabbing a second pillow to hold in my lonely arms, I curled to face the back and closed my eyes, praying to the ancestors for peaceful sleep without visits from the spirits.
I didn’t need a guide to know my future.
I was going to be alone.
Chapter 12
Jackie
2 weeks later
Since I got home from Rapid City, I’d kept myself busy. There were hundreds of square miles to cover in the reservation, and ten days ago, after ducking phone calls and messages from Jagger, Cheyenne, and Granny, I decided I needed some peace and quiet to settle my mind.
Jagger had been typing these long messages. I never read them, but I didn’t delete them either. If I was going to stick to my resolve, I couldn’t listen to his explanations, but each new message was harder to ignore. Finally, I’d had enough from everyone, so I packed my car with a sleeping bag, food and water, some extra blankets for the colder nights, and my camera. After sending Cheyenne a message and letting Granny and my father know I was going into the back country, I got in my car and began to drive with no destination in mind.
I’d stopped in every little town, made sure to ask about issues in the area, and visited countless families who were slipping through the cracks. I wasn’t talking small cracks, but Grand Canyon sized cracks. Some households survived without running water and had to get their supply from a community well. Other houses had no plumbing and still used an outhouse. And there were some that didn’t have any food, relying on the generosity of others.
But I also saw houses that were nice and well maintained, with families that were flourishing, and it was the difference between the two that I wanted to showcase. I always made sure to speak with my father about what I saw, and he tried to divert resources to that area if it was within our borders. If it was another tribe, he spoke with their council. There were just too many who needed help and not enough to go around.
And I knew that was the way it was for every state in the country, but seeing my people struggling so hard made my heart heavy.
When I heard there was a big snowstorm moving into the area overnight and into the morning, I packed up my car and headed back to my house. My car did fine when the weather cooperated, but snow and ice would put me in a ditch, and possibly a grave. Once I got back into cell range, my phone chimed for close to fifteen seconds with all the missed messages.
I knew I couldn’t hide from my pain forever, and after the last ten days of witnessing people hurting worse than I could imagine, my broken heart seemed small in comparison. And more time had passed since that morning at the ranch than we were together to begin with, so it stood to reason that I was over him.
Deep down, I knew I really wasn’t, but on the surface, I looked like I was back to my old self.
Turning into my driveway, I saw something sitting on my front porch, and after parking and gathering my stuff, I walked up the steps. There was a box, and I looked to see who it was from as I unlocked the front door and tossed my stuff inside. Grabbing it from the porch, I carried it inside and took it to the kitchen before closing the front door and securing the locks.
It was then I noticed the first flakes of snow beginning to fall. There were still hours before the worst got here, but it looked like a dusting was about to happen.
“I timed that pretty good,” I said to the house as I carried my small backpack into the laundry room.
Dumping the dirty clothes from inside, I started the washer before going back to the kitchen. I glanced at the box as I started a cup of coffee, and when it was finished, I took a seat at the island and stared at it.
Something about it was off, but I didn’t know what it was. It was heavier than it looked like it should be, and there was a faint odor coming from it that wasn’t bad, nor was it good. Without any sender information or even a postmark, I began to wonder who it was from and what it could be.
My phone rang, and I picked it up to see Cheyenne calling. Exhaling, I plastered a smile on my face as I answered.
“Hello, cousin. How are you?”
“I’m worried about you, but that’s beside the point. Are you back at your house, or are you still in the back country?” she inquired.
“I got home fifteen minutes ago, but you beat me to letting you know I was home,” I returned, then asked, “Is everything okay?”
She sighed, and I heard a door close before she spoke again. “I think they have a lead on Blur, and Trent is worried he’s going to try and come after me again. I don’t think he’s that stupid, but what do I know?”
“You need to make sure you have a weapon on you until they catch him,” I reasoned and took a swallow of coffee. “Have you ever heard of a package being delivered without a sender, or even the shipping company.”
“No. Why?”
Maybe I was being paranoid, but the package was bothering me, so I explained. “When I got home, there was a box on the porch. It’s . . . heavier than it seems like it should be, and there isn’t any information on the sender or who delivered it.”
“What does it look like?” she asked.
“A foot, maybe eighteen inches square, standard brown box. All seams are wrapped in thick tape, and it has a weird odor,” I tacked on, realizing it was getting a little stronger since I brought it inside.
“Hold on for a minute,” she said, and I shrugged as I took a swallow of coffee. She came back, and I heard another voice in the background. Recognizing it was Trent, I exhaled the instant nervousness that overtook me, thinking she was putting Jagger on the phone. “Jackie, tell Trent what you just told me.”
I repeated the details, and when I was finished, Trent asked, “Can you send Cheyenne a picture of it?”
“Yep,” I remarked and put the phone on speaker while I opened the camera, took a couple pictures, and sent them to her in a text message. “Sent.”
A moment later, he said, “Open her message, please, babe.”
I could hear them speaking lower, and when Trent finally spoke, I grew a little more worried. “Don’t open the box, and if possible, take it back to your front porch. I’m going to head up that way and take a look.”
“That’s not necessary,” I reasoned and said, “I’ll just open it and let you know what’s inside.”
“No,” Trent yelled, and I dropped the phone from his sudden outburst. I couldn’t hear what he was saying until I grabbed the phone from the floor. “... any problems.”
“Repeat everything after you yelled at me.”
“I said not to open it until one of us can get up there. We’ve been hunting Blur across the country and the last sighting was in Sioux Falls a few days ago. I wouldn’t put it past him to harass the ladies of the club, and I don’t want you to have any problems.”
“There isn’t a problem. I’m not a lady of the club, and there’s no way he knows who I am,” I replied as I stood from my seat and grabbed a sharp knife from the block. “So, unless you have something better than a possibility, I’m going to save you the drive and gas money and open it now.”
“Please, little warrior, don’t open it without us,” I heard Jagger say, and a knot formed in my throat at his use of my pet name.
Gripping the knife harder, I closed my eyes and simply said, “Low blow, guys.”
Reaching over, I disconnected the call and stared at the ominous box sitting on my kitchen island. When I looked closely at the taped seams, I saw something seeping at the edges. Realizing something was deeply wrong here, I picked up the box and carried it to the front door. Balancing it on my leg, I unlocked the door and set the box out under the overhang on the front porch before quickly glancing around and walking back inside.
I locked the door and kept the knife in my hand as I returned to the kitchen. The faint smell was gone, but there was something on the counter, so when I grabbed a paper towel and wiped the spot, I nearly threw up when I saw what was on it.
Blood. It looked to be a small spot, but instantly, tremors took over my body. On instinct, I dialed Cheyenne’s number again and put the phone on speaker as I began to check the house, making sure every window and door was locked and secured.
“Why did you hang up?” she asked.
“Cheyenne, Trent was right, and I need help.”
The sound of shuffling came through the phone, and it was Jagger who began to speak. “Tell me what’s going on, darlin’.”
“The box is bleeding,” I whispered as I continued to walk through my house, opening closets and checking under beds.
“I’m on my way, baby. Lock yourself inside and don’t open the door for anyone but a Sinner,” Jagger instructed.
“O-o-okay,” I returned.
“I’m on my way, baby.”
The call disconnected, and I shoved the phone into my back pocket as I walked back into the kitchen. There was only one room left to inspect, and it was the basement. This far north, basements were almost required to survive the winter, but after turning the light on and carefully walking down the stairs, I realized I was being crazy.
