Jenalyn: Crossing Lines (#4) [Complete]

Chapter 96: Dane

Sunday, 12:28 P.M. EST

I‘ve been holding onto the image of Jena dead on Rob’s bed since getting to the new apartment to find what would have looked like a fucking murder scene had I not known what the aftereffects of birth looked like.

And most importantly? I’ve been holding onto it since I found that she wasn't there. 

I even sat there at the apartment torturing myself by reliving the emotions I felt in those few moments I really thought I killed her before I attempted to look for her. 

I tried so hard to keep my anger in check, because I knew that what I found after hunting her down would be enough for him to pop off again.

And boy, was it. Boy. Fucking. Was. It. 

How the fuck did this bitch get here, at Upper Ridge fucking hospital, without having had called the authorities? They would have alerted me before they even responded to her! Especially considering the stage of labor she had to have been in leaving a goddamned mess like that!

It just... it doesn’t make sense. 

I have to hold on to that pain I felt because I really don’t want to end up actually killing her... especially not here. I mean- come on!

I’m a slightly decent fucking person, right? 

Dr. Ericsson, one of my more frequent clients, emerges into the conference room on the third floor of the hospital; Exactly where I requested him to meet me in a very nasty text I sent threatening the life of his family.

See Ericsson is an obstetrician. And I called Ericsson before I even left town most recently and requested him to alert me if any “Jenalyn Young” showed up on this floor of the hospital. 

It seems I haven’t been alerted! Well, not by him at least. Luckily for me, my client base is extensive.

“What’s the big deal?!” he exclaims, his voice right above a whisper as he shoves a Do not disturb sign on the doorknob before closing it. “I do very serious work, Scarman, I can’t just be-“

“Jenalyn Young,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest as I try to contain the anger threatening to rage through me. “Where is she?” 

Ericsson looks confused for a moment, but must quickly recall the phone call I’d made to him because a light bulb suddenly brightens above his head. 

“Jenalyn Young!” he repeats, visibly racking his mind for a moment before his face goes right back to the confused look he wore a minute ago. “-What the hell about her? I told you I’d call you if-“

I don’t have time for this. I cut him off, a frustrated glare crossing over my face before I let my anger have just a moment to release himself. 

“Do not fucking play with me, Ericsson!” I yell, unphased by all the people I’m sure can hear me. I slam my fist onto the table beside me, rumbling it enough to knock a cup full of pens right off of it. “I know she’s fucking here! Are you trying to hide her? Who’s paying you?!”

Ericsson looks as confused as ever. The fear on his face is at least enough to let me know that whoever is paying him isn't paying him enough though. 

“Look, I swear to you there is no Jenalyn Young in this ward!” he says, holding his hands up in front of himself in defense. “Nobody is paying me to hide anyone, okay? Calm down!”

I’d be all for smashing this ballsack’s face in for telling me to calm down, but the truth of the matter?

I do need to calm down. 

See, I get what Jena did here. It’s the whole Hayden thing, isn’t it? Her big escape? She got me, didn’t she! She used her fucking head for once and took a step ahead of me before making her big escape! 

She knew I wouldn’t have anyone on the lookout for Hayden… How the hell did I leave that out of the fucking equation?!

I’m physically shaking with anger at the realization. Shaking with anger, just like I was when I pulled the trigger and shot, who I thought was her, in the back of the head… 

“Where... is Hayden Gold?” I ask between gritted teeth. My anger threatens to take me over again, but I know I can’t let him. He didn’t have to think about, or go through how it felt after we killed her- but I did. 

I’m not doing that again. I can’t. 

Honestly, I didn’t even want to find her. I wanted to leave it alone from the moment I realized she was gone. Any other day, I’d have been on it like fucking whores on clients!! But this day? Today? Only a short time before finding out she ran away? I had to experience what it felt like to kill her. 

I didn’t like it, but I made a fucking promise to her that I need to make sure I keep. 

She can run away to California if she wants; I need a little time away from her after everything that went, and is about to go down today. I’ll let her think she’s got a win there, I guess…

But she’s not getting away with everything. She’s still got a fucking lesson to learn, and I don’t even have to kill her to teach it. 

“Wait- how do you know about the Gold girl?” Ericsson asks in a sudden panic. “-Is it on the news already? Did someone sell you the story?! I cannot give you that information, Scarman; That’s my job on the line! We were ordered to-“

I cross my arms over my chest, easily growing frustrated again. 

“You were ordered to tell me where the fuck Hayden Gold is,” I growl, pulling my phone from my pocket and scrolling through my photo albums until I reach the one specifically for men who have a lot to lose, like this guy. 

I find the video Ericsson’s favorite girl, Laina, took on one of their appointments. With a small laugh, I turn the phone until it faces him and bump up the volume until his perverted grunts, and her gasps fill the room. 

“-Laina,” I say after a few moments, noticing him squinting from across the room to try to make out what, aside from sex, is happening on my screen. “I have the girls I send on runs to… big ole useful, rich men like you make a little… movie for me. It’s just a little evidence I liked to keep for when I expose your perverted ways.”

Ericsson looks horrified. If my head wasn’t so scrambled, I could probably bask in it. 

“You tell me what's really putting your job on the line...” I say after the video ends. I shove my phone back into my pocket. “-because personally, I think a 57-year-old married man fucking a 16-year-old girl is a little more incriminating than telling me information I’m going to find with or without you... But that’s just my opinion.”

Ericsson is pale. He looks like he could vomit, or faint... or all of the above! Instead, he let’s out a defeated sigh. 

“Are you going to kill that girl?” he asks wearily, his eyes fixed on mine. 

I let out a small laugh, but have no problem responding because, after today, I’m confident that I won’t. “Nah,” I say, “Not her, no. But tell me… did the bastard child make it?”

He looks even more worried now, but who wouldn’t?

“T- they both have made it… s-so far…” he says reluctantly, each word dripping with regret. “-but o-one of the babies might n-not.. make it..”

... one of the babies?