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JAMESON
19 Years Old
"No, I'm not doing this anymore. It's too risky. I'm lying to everyone I know. I'm going to end up getting caught."
My father's voice growls through the phone with hatred, "You will do what I say, boy. You need to get the package and make the drop today."
I suck in a breath, trying to force myself to stand up to him, "No. I told you I'm done. You said after the last load of guns and drugs that I was off the hook that you would leave everyone alone."
His tone becomes stern, a loud, aggravated shout, "You don't get to decide when you're done. You will do as I say, or I will make sure that you regret it."
I mash the red button down on my phone, ending the call. I can't stand to even hear his voice. It makes me crazy with rage. I've sat and contemplated ways to kill him and get away with it. My own father.
The truth is, I'm unfortunately situated under his thumb, the harder I try to escape, the more he mashes me down, and I'm sick of it. Judson is supposed to be with Carter in Atlanta, Blakely is safe at Lexie's, and I will keep Hanna out of harm's way by any means necessary.
So I'm done.
I ignore a few more texts and wait around, trying not to pace. Hanna is at Karly's house, I convinced her not to move her stuff out, but she's been spending time over there in an attempt to give us space to figure out what we want.
I've tried my best to be better and treat Hanna how I intend to for the rest of forever, but it's hard when you constantly have to lie. She can't know about Ryan or about what I'm doing, she'd never look at me the same, and that's worse than a few little lies. At least it is to me. This ends today, though, but not without retaliation. I'm not that naive. I know Dad– I mean Ryan– will come for me, and I'll be ready.
I receive two missed calls after I don't show up on time to pick up the package. I've been texting Judson all day with no response, and it's starting to worry me. I text Carter to check up and see what could possibly be going on. He does send a quick text to let me know they're back in town and that Judson should be home.
Great.
So I decided to ghost Ryan, and my brother, whom my Dad wants dead, is roaming around like bait.
Fuck.
I gather myself and make my way out to Hanna's car, looking over my shoulder. Rightfully, paranoid. I take Hanna's car, so maybe it'll be easier to hide if they're out looking for me.
Incognito.
Just as I'm about to pull into Judson's driveway, I see his truck pull out, I stay far enough back so he won't recognize me, but I fully intend to follow him. I want to know why he's dodging my calls.
When I see his truck turn into the parking lot at the docks, I decide to hang back on the road leading down, wanting to create space between us, so he doesn't see me pull in. It's dark, and the fog is starting to settle in. So after waiting about five minutes, if that, I pull down into the lot, on the side opposite Judson. I step out of the car and walk down toward the dock. There are a few lights along the way, but it's still hard to see. They basically create a soft glow, just enough to make sure you don't walk off the wood.
When I round the corner, I'm sure that I hear water splashing. A strange feeling of panic and intuition that something is wrong overtakes my body and mind.
I begin running.
Every footstep pounding on the wooden boards feels heavier and heavier until I spot him. I yank Ryan backward, landing the most brutal punch I've ever thrown directly to his nose, causing him to fall back on the dock, shouting in pain. I drag Judson out of the water, my heart sinking into the bottom of my stomach when I see how blue his lips are. I shake him a few times and panic.
Is he alive?
I pull my phone out, dialing 911, unsure of what else to do. Ryan struggles to his feet, and rage blinds me, taking over my entire body. I drop the phone, the 911 operator still speaking on the other end, and tackle him back down to the narrow strip of wood. Knowing if I make one wrong move were both getting wet. I land a few more punches to his face, the blood beginning to leak quicker.
Lifting him up by the collar of his shirt, I slam his head right back down into the wood. With every movement, the wooden structure shakes, reminding me that we aren't on solid ground.
"Jameson!" Hanna's voice rings out into a shrill cry.
I hear her, but it doesn't break my concentration. If I don't stop him now, he'll never stop coming after us. I place my hands around his throat, squeezing as tight as I can, all of the terrible memories flooding back as he chokes beneath me.
Hanna rushes over to Judson, accessing the situation, "Jameson, stop!"
I don't. I can't.
I want him to pay, to finally understand what it feels like to struggle to breathe.
