Forgive Me(36)

“Great.”

From her purse, Angie fished out her car keys and handed them to Mike.

“What’s this for?” he asked.

“You said you had a big bouncy house delivery.”

“Yeah. So?”

“So, take my car back to Falls Church and get your work done. I’m going to stay here for a while.”

“And what, pray tell, will you be doing here?”

“I think this guy is a predator,” Angie said.

Mike seemed unmoved by Angie’s observation. “So?”

“So, if I’m a smart hunter and I found a good feeding ground, you better believe I’m going to come back.”





CHAPTER 19



Exhibit D: Excerpts from the journal of Nadine Jessup, pages 35-37




It was a warm spring afternoon when I left the studio with Ricardo. Don’t ask me what day or date. I’ve lost track. Ricardo told me we were moving out, so I had to get all my stuff together. I asked him where we were going. He looked at me and I could tell not to ask that question again. I got this feeling that I was done. They had tried everything to make me into Jessica Barlow. But I’m no JBar. I’m a failure. I’m a loser like my so-called friends think I am. It was a wake-up call for me, what Ricardo pointed out. Their posts, the way they talked about me. Calling me fat. Jump off a bridge.

Maybe I should. Maybe I should go find a bridge and stop being anyone’s problem. Would it hurt? I think about it. How would I want to die? Cut my wrists? I hate blood. Maybe pills. But what if I just puke it all up. Jumping from a bridge . . . that freaks me out because I’m imaging how scared I’ll be on the way down. Then I guess it won’t matter. But I hate roller coasters. That’s a funny reason not to kill yourself, but if I came to a bridge and got the opportunity, it’s probably what would keep me from jumping off.

I managed to get my journal out from its hiding place in the mattress without Ricardo seeing it. Maybe he’ll notice the slit I made later on. Maybe he’ll think the ratty old thing had just given out. I sure hope so. I don’t want him to know what I’m really thinking because I’m so messed up right now. I sometimes wish I would never wake up, that I could just die. It would be SO. MUCH. EASIER. Bye-bye world. Bye-bye. Does Ricardo love me or hate me? I just can’t tell anymore. Is there even a difference? Why does love have to hurt so much?

I thought about what he said about my mom. That really stuck with me. Stuck with me like I think about a knife sticking in my throat or my mom’s throat. I think about him pinning me to the ground, hovering over me. He could take me anywhere, do anything, as long as he doesn’t do that again. I don’t want to make him angry. I love Ricardo and he loves me, but it won’t stop him from hurting me. He’s like a bridge I’m standing on. I could jump off to get away from him, but I’m afraid of the pain that would follow.





We took the Cadillac. It was parked out front. Keys in it and running. Nobody is gonna mess with Ricardo. He got me something to eat at McDonalds drive through. Then we drove to some desolate street. I didn’t like that I didn’t know where he was taking me, but I didn’t want to be punished again so I wasn’t about to say no or even ask where we were going. He stopped the car and took out a blindfold and told me to put it on. I didn’t want to, but he looked at me hard, and I got scared. Then it got dark because I tied the blindfold around my head. He tightened it to make sure I couldn’t see out. I felt a breeze pass by my face, but I didn’t flinch. Ricardo laughed. Maybe next time I’ll hit you, he said.

I thought about the old Ricardo. The one who loved me and made me feel loved. I missed him and I wondered what happened? What did I do wrong? The pictures. It was probably those damn pictures. If only I was prettier, more photogenic, the JBar he wanted me to be. What was crueler, I wondered, to never show love or to give it and then take it away?





The car turned every which way, but I was blindfolded and completely disoriented. I didn’t know where we’d gone or how long we had been driving. It seemed like hours, but time has a funny way of passing when you can’t see the world going by. I wondered why Ricardo wanted me blindfolded, but I wasn’t about to ask him. He wasn’t talking and that was my cue to stay quiet, to not make any trouble. Trouble caused me pain.

The car finally came to a stop and I heard him open his door. My heart started beating fast. I had that creepy feeling, like you get watching a horror movie. Something was going to happen. There was a reason I was blindfolded. My gut told me I was about to find out. A moment later, Ricardo opened my door and helped me out of the car. My hand was trembling and he asked what was wrong. I told him I was scared. He said, “of what?” I wanted to say of him, but I didn’t want to make him mad so I said of being hurt. He whispered in my ear, do you think I would ever hurt you?





I went from outside to inside. I heard the creak of a door and the air turned stale. Someone was cooking something. Beans and rice maybe. I could smell cigarette smoke and perfume. Ricardo helped me down a short flight of stairs. Now there was a musty smell mixed with the smoke, perfume, and food. I thought of the basement at my house that had the same dank smell. I could tell I was walking on a hard surface. I heard a little splash of water under my feet when I stepped in a puddle. My heart was thundering, my body shaking.