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I go back to Jax’s house, breaking down when I see the mess the police have left the house in. They have taken everything out of every drawer and every cupboard. The house is ultra-modern and minimalistic, but it still looks like a bomb has gone off. Collapsing on the sofa, I let myself cry until all my tears have dried up. Frustration fills me. I need to speak to Jax. This is a massive misunderstanding. Jax cannot be responsible for what the police are saying. He can’t be.
After I am all cried out, I put the house back together. Well, as best I can, we’ve only been together for 6 months. He gave me a key about a month ago; having spent most nights here, I have a bit of an idea of where things go. As I wander about the house putting things back where I think they belong, I look at all his possessions. It never crossed my mind before, but everything in this house is worth a fortune, from the smart mugs in the kitchen, which keep your brew at the perfect temperature, to the paintings on the wall. I’ve just googled one of the artists; his work sells for hundreds of thousands a piece. And his office, which has three computers in there. Well, at least I think it was three. I’ve only ever been in there once; he keeps it locked, “just in case,” he says, just in case of what? I have no idea. What a lorry driver needs an office for, I’ll never know. How has he afforded all this? He hasn’t really spoken much of his family. Maybe they are well off and buy him things? Goodness knows. I just wish I could speak to him. I miss him; I’m so worried about him.
It’s well into the early hours when I’m finished tidying up, so I get in Jax’s bed. The tears flow as I breathe in his scent off his pillow.
My alarm goes off at 7:00 AM. Smiling as my eyes open, thinking it’s all a dream. That is until I reach over to Jax’s side of the bed to find it empty and cold.
I use the shower, get dressed, lock up, and go to my apartment to change and get ready for work. I still haven’t heard from Jax. I rang the police station, but they didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.
At work, my brave poker face seems to have everyone fooled other than my manager, but she is one of my best friends.
As soon as she asks me what’s wrong, I burst into tears. I don’t tell her the whole truth as I’m not sure what is true and what isn’t right now; not being able to face any lectures, I say:
“Jax left me yesterday morning and hasn’t spoken to me since.” It’s not a lie. I’m just missing out on a lot of detail.
“Oh no, Katie. Come here.” Bella gives me a hug, and I cry it out. She asks if I want to take some time off, but I don’t. Being here helps to take my mind off things.
The next couple of days are a blur. I am sick with worry, but I put on a happy face while my mind works in overdrive.
When I finish work on Friday, I realise I haven’t collected my post from my mailbox in a while. All the apartments have their own mailbox in the mail room located in the reception. When I get down there, I find it much fuller than usual, even for a few days of post.
As I look through the pile, I realise they are birthday cards. Oh my goodness, tomorrow is my birthday. My 30th birthday. With everything that has been going on, it completely slipped my mind. Not feeling like opening them now, I leave them in my apartment and go to Jax’s house. I let myself in, looking for any signs of life or that Jax may have been home. But no. I’m not sure why I’m disappointed, I didn’t expect to find him here, I’m sure he will ring me the moment he is released.
I put on Jax’s favourite hoodie, grab my comfort teddy; Snuggly, out of my bag and get into his bed.
I must fall asleep for a few hours, because I wake to the sound of my phone ringing, its screen lighting the dark room.
“Hello?”
“Katie, It’s me.”
“Jax, where are you? Are you ok?”
“I’m fine. Where are you, Katie?” I’m so relieved to finally speak to him, but I’m confused by the harsh tone of his voice.
“I’m at your place; I’m actually in your bed; I miss y……..” Jax cuts me off.
“You need to leave now.”
“What, why? Jax, I don’t understand?” As I speak, I hear a knock on the door.
“I don’t have time to explain. Just get your stuff and get out.”
“There’s someone at the door.” I look out the window and see a Range Rover parked outside. There’s a man in dark clothes standing at the front door. Another man looks to be walking around the back of the house.
“Listen to me very carefully; I have been framed by some bad people. I don’t have time to go into detail, but you need to leave and take all of your things with you. Do you understand? Everything. They cannot know I have a girlfriend, or they will come after you.”
“Ok.”
“Seriously, Katie. Take everything. Your toothbrush and the tatty teddy you take with you everywhere. it all must be gone.” I have never heard Jax talk so abruptly. It scares me. I do as he asks, gathering all my things and throwing them into my bag. There’s not much of mine here, just a few toiletries and some clothes, which are all neatly together in his drawer, thanks to me tidying up after the police made a mess.
“One of them has gone around the back.”
“Get in the loft. There’s a hole on the left-hand side which leads to Mrs Johnsons. Leave via her house and don’t go back there again.”
“Ok, but..” Jax cuts me off again.
“I mean it, Katie. Do not go there again!” My phone beeps, and the call ends. I stare at my phone in disbelief. Another loud knock on the door brings me back to reality. With a quick check around to ensure I have everything, I fumble through the dark, trying to find the loft hatch. The ladders to the hatch slide down with a screech. I hate lofts, especially in the dark. They have a funny musty smell and an eery feel about them. The ladders are very heavy to lift, but I manage to get them back up, and the latch closes just as I hear the back door being bashed off its hinges. I sit still for a few moments listening. My heart races and thuds in my ears. The two men are both in the house. I can hear them speaking to each other, but they’re too far away for me to make out what they are saying. The sound of furniture being moved around makes me move. They’re obviously looking for something; I need to get out of here. Now my eyes have gotten used to the dark; I make my way through the storage boxes as quietly as I can. I see the opening next door and climb through. Mrs. Johnson’s loft has a lot more stuff in it than Jax’s. I can hardly get through the old furniture and creepy paintings. I locate the hatch to the house; it opens with a creak. I climb down the ladders trying to think of an explanation as to why I have sneaked into Mrs. Johnson’s house through her loft. Maybe she won’t notice, and I can just quietly leave through the front door. No such luck. As I close the hatch, she appears behind me.
