Page 6 of Jessica's Hero

When I reach for my phone—thank goodness I still have my purse—it takes me several tries to grab it because my hand is shaking so badly.

My head is on a swivel, jumping from the front door to the street to my yard, frantically searching for any sign of danger. A man coming from my house, intent on attacking me. Or maybe someone lurking in the bushes, about to make a run for my car, maybe try to hijack me like what happened to Thea…

With trembling fingers, I dial 911. The second the dispatcher answers, I blurt out, “I need to report a burglary. At 121 Lark Street. Someone has definitely been in my house. I—” My voice cracks. “Could you please send someone here. I don’t know if?—”

“Name, please,” the female dispatcher clips.

Like being dunked in freezing water, my body goes cold.

I recognize that voice. Daria Daniels. Another person I went to high school with. And another person who most definitelyhasn’tforgiven me.

“It’s Jessica Day,” I reply. “Can you please send someone?”

“Jess.”I’m met with a sigh similar to the one I got from Marilyn. “What did I tell you about 911 calls? They’re for emergencies only. Not alleged footsteps in your backyardor a dead possum on your back porch. Which, by the way, is a perfectly normal thing. Possums eat garbage. It probably got something out of the trash it wasn’t supposed to.”

She pauses. “Unless…youpoisoned the possum. Trying to get attention again?—”

“I wasn’t!” My voice rises to a near-shout. “I didn’t hurt the possum. Those weren’t my footsteps. And someone was inside my house. They moved things around! I’m not joking—” Another crack.

Then a deep breath, as I pull myself together. More steadily, I add, “You’re the 911 dispatcher, Daria. Just send the police here.”

As I wait for her response, I check the locks in the car again. And the windows. As almost an afterthought, I push the ignition and rest my hand on the shifter, ready to pull out if I need to.

Finally, after what seems like an hour, Daria huffs loudly across the line. “Everyone is busy on calls right now, Jessica.Actualemergencies. If you want to come to the station, you can file a report here.”

I can’t pretend I wasn’t expecting it.

But it still hurts. And her response makes me feel more alone than ever.

“Well?” she continues in an impatient tone. “Are you coming into the station? Or have you changed your mind about the…allegedcrime?”

Swallowing hard to hold back the threatening tears, it takes me a few seconds before I can talk without crying. “I’ll come into the station.”

Then I click off the call and toss my phone into the middle console.

The lump in my throat gets bigger.

As I shift into reverse and pull slowly out of the driveway, the first of the tears escapes.

It’s hot on my chilled cheek. Almost burning.

My chest feels carved out. Aching.

I shouldn’t be surprised anymore. But just for once, I wish someone would trust me.

CHAPTER 2

KANE

I never used to be jealous of my coupled-up friends before.

Well. Not jealous exactly. It’s not like I want their partners for myself. It’s more the concept I get slightly wistful about.

Back in my twenties, I didn’t give relationships a second thought. Casual dates? Sure. Friends with benefits? Perfect. But actual commitment? No thanks.

Commitment meant having to run my plans by someone else. It meant no late nights out with the guys. And worst of all, it came with the possibility of having my heart crushed in an instant, just like what happened to my mom.

So I was more than happy to keep things simple.