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CHAPTER6
Jenny
The shooting at the mall is all over the news, the headline reading Felon Santa's Brother Shoots Up the Mall.
Nick is a felon. It suddenly makes sense why he was working the Santa gig. It was probably one of the only jobs he could get. I've watched all the videos people have already posted online. The one good thing that came out of all the onlookers recording everything was that Nick was exonerated. His brother admitted that he'd actually been the one guilty of the crime Nick had gone to prison for, and my heart clenches within me to think of Nick rotting away in prison for years for a crime he didn’t commit.
It's been two days since the shooting. Two days since my distraught father showed up to rescue me from the site of the shooting, looking down his nose in distaste at everyone in the shopping complex before casting accusing eyes at me.
I'd shrunk in on myself. I'd known they wouldn't like me working there, but I'd done it anyway. I didn't regret it. I'd done good work. I thought of all the kids I'd made happy with the free gifts.
I thought of how I'd met Nick there. I wouldn't trade meeting Nick for anything.
I haven't seen or spoken to him since he was pressed on my back, shielding me from danger.
He's stayed away from me. I’ve tried to call his phone number, but he won't pick up.
I'd thought when he was so gruff with me that day that maybe he'd decided he didn't want me, but when mayhem had broken out, he'd instantly flown to protect me.
Would he do that if he didn't care about me?
I remembered the way he'd called me "baby" and how gently he'd spoken to me, trying to calm me down when I was so frightened I was about to pee my pants.
But maybe that was just him trying to soothe a scared girl. Maybe it didn't mean anything.
No, I can't believe that. I don't know what happened between the day he'd taken my virginity and the day of the mall shooting, but I know I didn’t imagine the intensity and adoration in Nick's eyes. I don't know much about sex, but I know that hadn't just been sex.
What we have is so much more meaningful than just sex. The way he'd insisted I look at him, the way he'd held my gaze the entire time we'd been moving together, our hearts beating as one.
My mother is sitting on the couch next to my father squeezing his hand tight as we all watch the news together. She's been beside herself since her daughter's near-brush with death, and while I'm never a prisoner here—I'm certainly old enough to come and go as I please—I've confined myself to staying close to her so as not to worry her anymore. For the past two days, she keeps seeking me out to stroke my hair and whimper pitifully over me, bemoaning how she could have lost me.
I love my mother, but you'd think she was the one who’d been the one in the shooting the way she's been carrying on. I've tried to assure her I'm fine, but she's still all worked up about it.
"We just knew something like this was going to happen," she wails.
My father shoots her a warning look, and I hone in on what she said, sitting up straighter in my chair.
"What do you mean you knew something like this would happen?" I question her, my heart suddenly beating overtime in my chest.
My father curses under his breath and then pinches between his brows. "Dad, what is she talking about?" I look to my father for answers.
Everything suddenly begins to click. All of my supposed freedom and independence was all an illusion. They've known everything all along. "Have you been having me followed?" I ask incredulously.
Dad shoots a withering glare at my mother for spilling the beans, but she doesn't pay him any mind. She's still distraught, her tearful eyes on the TV screen.
"It was for your protection, honey," Dad says. "We weren't trying to control you or anything. We just wanted to make sure you were safe."
The cogs are still turning in my mind as something else clicks into place. "Nick," I whisper.
I see my father wince, and I already know the answer before I ask the question.
"You talked to Nick?"
Suddenly it all makes sense. The reason Nick was so distant the day after we'd had sex. We'd been sitting in perfect view of everyone in the food court. If my parents were having me followed, they'd no doubt heard about that.
And my father had immediately tried to put a stop to it.
"What did you say to him?" my voice is glacial. It almost gives me pause. I've never spoken to either of my parents in such a tone before, but I can't help it. I'm livid at the thought that my father interfered with my relationship with Nick.
