Page 47
Story: Forgotten
“We can talk again later,” I said, “after you think about my offer. But I should walk you to your car first.”
“No, it’s fine, I can walk myself.”
“I insist,” I said.
“Jesse, no, I don’t need you walking me to my car.”
“It can be dangerous out here,” I said, my eyes on the distance where I figured she’d parked. There were only a few cars out there.
“Jesse, you just stay here. Away from me. I will call you when I have thought about it, okay?”
She was walking away, and I followed her. She picked up her pace, and I saw her make a movement with her arm, like she was trying to tell someone to go. An engine cut on, and I looked up to see where the sound was coming from.
An unmarked car was parked in the back of the tiny parking lot. Inside was someone I knew very, very well.
Oland Anderson.
“What the hell is he doing here?” I thundered.
The gig up, she took off for Oland’s car, and he got out of the driver’s seat to come around toward me. He seemed to be ready for a fight but not exactly itching for one. The last time Olandand I had squared off one on one, I’d left him with a broken nose and a ton of embarrassment.
“Jesse Galloway, you need to back up,” he said.
“Or what, Oland?”
“I said back up,” he repeated.
“This was you, wasn’t it? All this time, it was you. You were setting me up! But why?”
“Jesse, you’re acting like an idiot,” Lacey said. “Thank God there aren’t a bunch of people here, or else you’d be a fool in front of everyone.”
“I’ve already been the fool, haven’t I?” I shouted. “I saw your badge in that picture, Oland. I know you were there. So tell me, is that baby yours? Huh? Was all this just an attempt to extort money out of me?”
“Jesse, I’m going to give you to the count of three to calm down,” Oland intoned.
“You can count to a hundred, Oland, I’m still gonna be mad as hell. You set me up! You both set me up!”
“I said shut your mouth,” Oland said, closing the space between the two of us and getting in my face.
“I’d back up if I were you, Oland.”
“You back up, punk!” he said.
“Who would believe you, Jesse?” Lacey said, laughing. “Lord, you are stupid. I knew you were stupid, but not this stupid. Everyone already thinks you are the father. They think you are a deadbeat dad. You won’t beat that rap. So you have two choices. You can do what I say and pay me to make it seem like you are a decent human being, or I will drag your name through the dirt and let Oland do what he wants to you.”
I shrugged.
“I warned you,” I muttered.
“Warned me what?”
Normally, I detested cheap shots. I liked it best when the other person threw the first punch; that way I could respond not only morally, but I’d have the advantage usually of getting a clean shot in while they recovered from their miss.
But sometimes, in rare instances, it was better to take the first shot. This would be one of them.
I reared back and slammed my head forward, crunching into Oland’s nose and feeling the crack of his healed nostrils breaking once again.
“I tried to warn you,” I said.
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