PHOENIX

7| SHE PLAYED HIM

Jackson looked at Melissa as she spoke to one of the men he had seen in that fateful building. He remembered him like he’d seen him yesterday. You couldn’t blame him though; the guy was not easy to forget.

The man had a big scar across his face, from his left eyebrow down his nose to the corner of his mouth. Jackson had been curious about how the guy got the scar when he saw him for the first time. The man was huge and tall, his long blonde hair tied up into a ponytail. Jackson was a tall man, but he knew if he were to stand next to that guy, he would look like he was five feet tall instead of six feet four.

Jackson continued to observe them. They were busy arguing about something, and he wished he was standing closer so he could hear what their conversation was about. Melissa spoke animatedly, her gestures sharp and frustrated. The man stood there, listening intently, his expression stern. After a moment, he bowed his head, turned, and walked to a car parked a few meters away. He got in and drove off, leaving Melissa standing by herself with her hands on her hips.

Jackson's mind raced. What was Melissa arguing about? And why with him, of all people? The scarred man was clearly someone of importance in the Roy family’s operations. If Melissa was discussing something heatedly with him, it had to be significant.

Jackson almost moved from his hidden spot when she spun around and looked in his direction as if she could feel his eyes on her or was somehow sure that he was there, watching her. He didn’t want to blow his cover, so he just stood there, not moving a muscle.

Melissa scanned her surroundings for a few more seconds before heading to her car. A man in a uniform got out and opened the back door for her. Jackson noticed something peculiar and wasn't sure if he was seeing things or if something was wrong with his head.

Melissa looked like Melissa, but at the same time, she didn’t look like Melissa at all. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something different about her. Was it her posture? The way she moved? He decided he had to follow them to be sure.

Starting his car, he trailed behind Melissa's vehicle, keeping a safe distance. It didn’t take long for him to spot the car. He kept his eyes fixed on it, determined to figure out what was going on. The car wove through the streets, heading toward the outskirts of the city. Jackson maintained his distance, careful not to get too close.

He decided he wasn’t going to tail them so closely that they would notice he was following them. He wasn’t worried about them recognizing this particular car as his because he owned five of them, each a different color with different license plates. The one he was driving now was white, the first one he bought when he got here, and his favorite. Just the day before he met Sue, he'd bought a red one. At the time, he didn’t know what to think of the color, but he wanted variety, and red seemed like a good idea.

He'd purchased the other three even before he boarded the flight to return home. His mentor had advised him that having multiple cars would give him the freedom he needed to exact his revenge. With different cars, he could tail someone for days without them noticing because it wouldn’t be as obvious as if he drove the same car each time.

He watched as Melissa’s car pulled out of the driveway and headed down the road. Keeping a safe distance, Jackson followed. His mind raced with questions and strategies. He needed to understand what she was up to, what plans the Roys were hatching, and how he could use that information to his advantage.

He was still thinking about the type of car he wanted to buy next. Money wasn’t the problem, but he also didn’t want to attract suspicion by buying cars every single day. Since he bought a car a few days ago, he had to wait for a while before buying another one.

He followed Melissa’s car as it went further south, and at some point, he even thought of turning back. After a while, he realized that maybe they had seen that he was following them and decided to punish him.

He took a different route and drove aimlessly until he saw their car again. This time, it was parked, and Melissa, along with a girl he didn’t recognize, was leaning against the side of the car, laughing about something.

Jackson knew he couldn’t park nearby because they would see him, so he drove until he was further away from them. He parked his car and walked back to where they were. It took him a while, but he finally reached them. He found a good hiding spot next to them and tried to listen to what they were saying.

He couldn't pick up most of what they said, but he was sure they had seen his car earlier, which he already suspected. The other girl asked Melissa if it was possible that he saw what they were doing, to which Melissa replied that he must have noticed since he decided to drive away.

"...can't believe he fell for it," the unfamiliar girl said, giggling.

"I know, right?" Melissa replied, her voice carrying a hint of smug satisfaction. "Men are so predictable. I'm pretty sure he will be crying over the wasted gas tonight in his bed."

He listened to them as they spoke more about things he couldn’t understand. He got one thing from their conversation though: Melissa talked and behaved differently when she was in her world. She didn’t look like the introverted yet somewhat confident woman he knew. He couldn’t believe how much he had been fooled. And to think that he had thought of reconciling with her yesterday when he saw the hurt in her eyes when he pretended like he didn’t know her.

Her tears had always been his weakness, and she knew it. Yesterday she had used her tears to try and bring him back into her life and destroy him again. Once again, she played him, and he couldn’t believe he almost fell for it.

Jackson took a deep breath, pushing the memory of her tears out of his mind. He needed to stay focused. He needed to remember why he was here. The Roys were his enemies, and Melissa, despite the shared past, was a part of that family. She had chosen her side long ago, and he needed to accept that.

Just then, a car pulled over next to them and as soon as the front passenger door opened and a guy stepped out, Melissa ran into his arms and kissed him. Deep. Jackson was sure that if he wasn’t leaning against a tree, he would’ve lost his balance and fallen face first.

Of all the things he could’ve imagined, he hadn’t thought that Melissa had found someone again, especially after she claimed that she had been waiting for him. The b***h probably enjoyed lying. He even wondered if any of the things she said while they were dating was true.

He decided he had seen enough and left. He didn’t even know how he made it to his car and, most importantly, he didn’t know why what he saw affected him so much. He had spent the past couple of years schooling his damn heart.

He had thought he had enough lessons for it and that he was good to go. Truth is, when he was busy schooling his heart not to love Melissa again, he never thought about his reaction when he saw her again.

It was like trying to forget her and remove her from his heart was going to be enough. Seeing her again never crossed his mind. As he drove away, he couldn’t stop his mind from wondering what kind of witchcraft or spell she cast on him because he was pretty damn sure whatever he was feeling wasn’t normal.

Jackson’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, his mind racing with a storm of emotions he thought he had buried. He pulled over to the side of the road, trying to collect himself. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by Melissa, not now when he was so close to his goal.

He took a deep breath, forcing his mind to focus. He needed to stick to the plan. He couldn’t let Melissa’s betrayal or her new lover derail him. This wasn’t about her anymore; this was about justice, about making the Roys pay for what they did to him and the countless others they had wronged.

Jackson started the car again and drove towards his apartment.

When he got to his apartment, he removed his clothes and went to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and stepped inside. The cold water somewhat returned his senses. It didn’t stop his mind from going back to what he saw. It replayed everything, and frustration clawed at him.

He couldn’t continue like this. He needed a distraction! He wasn’t sure what kind of distraction, but he needed it and that too, very fast, or he was going to explode.

He put on clean clothes, took his car keys, and went to the garage. He took the red Jeep and drove to the bar a few blocks away from his apartment. He’d never been inside, but he didn’t care. He was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to meet people who would recognize him.

The bar, aptly named "Dirty Tom's Bar," was a dimly lit establishment that oozed a sense of anonymity. The walls were lined with old photographs and obscure memorabilia, giving it a nostalgic feel. Jackson parked his Jeep and made his way inside, grateful for the darkness and the hum of conversations that enveloped him.

He found a stool at the far end of the bar and ordered a whiskey, neat. The bartender, a burly man with a friendly demeanor, handed him the drink without a second glance. Jackson took a sip, savoring the burn as it went down his throat. It grounded him, if only for a moment.

As he scanned the room, his eyes landed on a woman sitting alone at a table, her back to him. She had long, dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders and was engrossed in a book, oblivious to the world around her. She seemed out of place in the bar, her presence a stark contrast to the rowdy patrons around her.

Jackson finished his drink and ordered another, contemplating whether he should approach her. He needed a distraction, and she seemed as good an option as any. Taking his glass, he walked over to her table.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, hoping his voice didn’t betray the turmoil inside him.

She looked up, startled, but then smiled. "Sure, why not? It’s not like anyone else here is interested in discussing literature."

Jackson chuckled and took a seat. "What are you reading?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"It’s a collection of short stories by Raymond Carver," she replied, showing him the cover. "I come here to escape and get lost in his words."

"Interesting choice," Jackson said. "Carver’s work is intense. I could use some of that right now."

She nodded, her eyes studying him. "You look like you have a lot on your mind. Want to talk about it?"

Jackson hesitated. He didn’t want to reveal too much, but talking to a stranger might help him clear his head. "Just dealing with some personal stuff," he said vaguely. "Needed to get away for a bit."

She closed her book and leaned forward. "Sometimes getting lost in someone else’s story helps you find your own path."

Her words struck a chord with him. "You’re right," he said, smiling. "I’m Zach, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Zach. I’m Emily."

He was about to compliment her name when something caught his eye. "You've got to be funckin' kidding me!"