He regarded me, most likely thinking I would shut him down again. “I’m sure Killian, Donovan, Jetson, and Daniel wouldn’t appreciate your blowing away their shot at stardom because of your pride.”
That pulled me back to reality. His use of their real names, reminded me he had no idea who the boys were, or the talent they possessed. This made the anger surge back with a vengeance.
“I’ll talk to my dad and tell him to stop asking questions about Jason, but only because I don't want him to know what your son did to me. And I assure you, the JackholeS will make it big without you.” I wrenched my arm out of his grasp, and stood, utterly finished with the evil man sitting in front of me.
“I appreciate you getting your dad to back off," he answered, ignoring my statement. "I’ll let you think over my offer; call me when you want to talk.”
I resisted the need to tell him he shouldn’t hold his breath. Most of the customers were watching us, and I didn’t want to cause any more of a scene. So, I left with my head held high. Even after slamming my car door, the anger didn't ebb. Gripping the door handle with one hand I took deep calming breaths while I reached frantically into my purse for my bottle of Tums with the other.
In my rush my phone fell out and landed on my passenger seat. My search for my Tums stopped as I saw the massive amount of missed calls. Every one of them were from Trent.
My heart rushed into my throat as I pressed redial. As it rang, I sent out positive thoughts that nothing was wrong. I couldn’t think of any other reason why anyone would call so many times, unless there had been an emergency.
“Faith,” Trent answered.
The panic I tried to hold back flooded through me. The emotion choked me, making my voice sound strangled. “Trent, what’s wrong?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, picturing all the horrible things he was about to tell me.
“What? Nothing is wrong,” he said, finally hearing the panic in my voice.
“What the hell do you mean nothing is wrong? You called me close to twenty times in a forty-five minute period. Of course, I’d think something was wrong.”
Jason’s dad exited the coffee shop. I hunched down, which turned out to be in vain, because he didn’t even glance toward the parking lot. He walked across the street and back into his office, an air of importance surrounding him.
“I’m sorry, Faith. I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s just when you left I felt horrible I had let you go alone. I was trying to find out where you went so I could be there for backup.” He sounded sheepish, and some of my anger melted away.
“Well, I'm finished with my meeting, and I appreciate your concern, but this was something I needed to do on my own.” I flipped my wrist over and stared at the tiny silver line running down the vein.
“What did he want?” His voice was tight.
For a moment, I wanted to lie and tell him nothing, but Trent had caught me at a vulnerable moment, and I needed to vent to someone. I decided to use him as a sounding board, wanting to purge all that had just happened so it couldn’t fester inside, but that also meant I would have to explain the scar on my wrist.
“Can you meet me at the grocery store by my house in thirty minutes?” I asked. I hoped the extra time would give me a chance to get my story straight as to what I wanted to confess.
“I'll be there."
Meeting at the grocery store was a win-win for me. I’d have an alibi and could pick up the stuff I’d forgotten when I’d gone shopping the day before. The parking lot was busier than it had been with the upcoming holiday looming around the corner. I had to park some distance from the store.
As the interior of my car cooled, I stroked the silver scar, on my right wrist and let the memories submerge into me. The scar was razorblade thin. Almost indiscernible unless you were looking for it. I rubbed my finger over it as I remembered the day it became a part of me.
Jason had been having a hard time in one of his classes. He couldn’t understand how someone as perfect as he was could fail at something. His definition of failing meant he was getting a C in a class. He’d been sick over his grade, mumbling about how he needed to fix it, and how badly a C would stand out on his transcript. He became obsessed.
I tried to explain to him how there were just some classes that, no matter how hard you tried, you weren't going to win. My words infuriated him, sending him into a rage. I remember the fear I felt as his face turned red. He screamed, telling me how stupid I was and how I could never understand.
His degrading comments made me want to remind him we went to the same school, and I had never earned any grade lower than an A. I kept my mouth shut, though, not wanting to escalate the situation. My bruises from our last encounter were still coloring my skin.
Jason had decided he would talk to his professor the next day and convince him with his charm he needed to raise his grade. The smug look on his face made my insides crawl as he told me his plan. Once again, I kept my mouth closed, not wanting to have his wrath focused on me.
The next day when I came home from work, the house was eerily quiet. Jason’s car was in his parking spot, so I knew he was home. Fear thickened my blood, allowing panic to lodge into my soul. The urge to walk out of the apartment and never return had throbbed within me, but then I heard Jason sniffling in the bathroom.
My sluggish legs shook as they took me to the bathroom. The door was partially open. Jason was sitting on the rim of the bathtub, head down. I bumped the door, making it swing open further, revealing the razor blade in Jason's hand.
My gaze was captured by the deadly silver edge glinting in the light. Jason’s hand was shaking, causing the razor blade to flicker against the harsh lighting. I slowly lifted my eyes away from the instrument of pain until they connected with his. A gasp ripped through me as I searched his face. Jason's eyes were devoid of any emotion, and a chill skittered up my spine.
“Jason, what are you doing?” I’d whispered, stepping into the bathroom and creeping closer to him as I tried to keep from startling him.
He blinked as if he just noticed I was in the room.
