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Chapter or StoryAuthor's Chapter Notes:
Here is another one since Tina demanded it lol. There is a song in here, it was written a long time ago, so forgive the tacky song lol.
It had been two weeks since Jarod had left Sydney’s house. Not one phone call, not one e-mail, not one clue, not one red notebook.
He caught a bus heading west and crossed two state lines before he got off and sought out a hospital. The nurses and doctors badgered him for answers as to why he had days old injuries. But it was soon clear they wouldn’t get an answer and left him alone.
They had stitched a few of the deeper wounds on his legs and re-stitched the wound on his forehead. An x-ray showed his dislocation was healing nicely and showed that his wrist was indeed badly broken. It was snapped in three different places along his wrist and lower forearm. After it was plastered and he was bandaged back up, he left.
The last week had been spent back in Blue Cove. He wanted to be close to her, to her presence so he went to her house. When he had gained access to her home, Jarod stood at the back door, frozen. He could feel her in the house, could smell the alcohol in the air from all of her drinking sessions. Walking through the kitchen to the lounge room, Jarod was assaulted with memories of Parker. Picking up the framed picture of a young Miss Parker standing next to her mother broke his heart. Softly placing the photo back down, Jarod wiped the tears away from his eyes.
Walking up the stairs to her bedroom, Jarod tried to keep the pain, the grief inside. Entering her room, Jarod saw all of her most personal possessions. Her mother’s paintings, the few gifts her father had given her, Tommy’s shirts. Jarod heard small whimpers fill the room, it took a while to realise it was coming from his own mouth.
Walking over to her chest of drawers, Jarod saw her collection of jewellery. Picking up a silver chain he had seen on her quite a few times, Jarod clipped it around his neck and gently placed his hand over it. Smelling her perfume tore at his heart, gardenias and vanilla. He had caught that scent when they were trapped in the bank.
Making a small circle, Jarod turned around the room slowly, taking in all he could. Next to her bed Jarod caught a glimpse of red. Walking over, the pretender saw a dried, long stem, blood red rose standing in a vase. Reaching his trembling hands out to pick it up, he noticed a small white piece of paper sticking out of the vase. Pulling the paper out, Jarod let out a heart breaking sob. Opening the small note, Jarod read it softly,
‘Parker,
Happy Valentines.
J’
He had sent this to her the year after Tommy’s murder trying to let her know someone was out there, caring for her. She had kept it. She had kept his gift. Jarod felt a surge of rage go through him. He went over to her drawers, pulled them open and ripped her clothes out and threw them on the floor. Jarod pulled all the covers of her bed off and threw her pillows against the wall. After his short explosion, Jarod fell to his knees as heart-wrenching sobs escaped his body.
Crawling over to her bed, Jarod hauled himself up. He lay upon the half torn off sheets and the various pieces of clothing he had thrown around the room and had landed on the bed. Grabbing the lone pillow laying on the bed, the only one he had not thrown, Jarod snuggled up to the pillow that still vaguely smelt like her. He lay there, with all of her pictures around him. Her hairbrush, her clothes, her files, scattered around him as he fell into an exhausted slumber.
He only stayed one night though. He felt as if he was intruding. It was similar to when he snuck into her house while she was asleep or at work, to leave her presents. Only this time, he knew she wasn’t going to come home and find his gifts. It was very unsettling, so as soon as he had woken and fixed the room, leaving no evidence of his stay behind, he left. The chill of the pre-dawn air sent shivers down his spine as he took one last look at the summer house, turning, he walked away.
Jarod was aware that Sydney knew where he was. Jarod had caught Sydney tailing his car one day, as he drove through main street. But thus far, no contact had been made.
For the last week, Jarod had spent his nights at the bar Parker had gone to after she found out Tommy had been murdered. He paid the owner fifty dollars to keep the same booth open for him. He sat there, drinking all night, every night.
He needed to numb the pain. If he wasn’t drunk or passed out somewhere, he was thinking about her. The last couple of days he had spent with her. What she had done for him. What she had sacrificed for his freedom. He was filled with ‘what if’s’, what he could have done differently to save her life. It was eating him alive.
He ordered another scotch malt on the rocks, neat. Miss Parker’s favourite drink. This was the fifth drink he’d had within the hour. He never bothered to nurse them, just swallowed them in one hit, savouring the burning it made down his throat. It was ironic. He used to always scold Parker for her drinking habits, now he had formed the same ones.
How would he ever be able to forgive himself? How would Broots ever forgive him? Or Debbie? Or Sydney? What a mess he had made. He would sell his soul, if it meant Miss Parker would come back to him.
Jarod almost laughed at himself, Sell your soul huh? Where was that sentiment when you were running away, like the coward that you are??
#######
It had been three hours since he had arrived today, only 23:00, early really. Jarod had no plans for moving from this spot until he passed out and was thrown out of the bar. He was on his twelfth drink. He could barely sit up anymore. He was becoming a serious drunk.
It took him a moment to process that someone had sat down across from him.
“You need to go easy on the drinks or there will be major repercussions for you in the morning.” The voice was oddly familiar, yet strangely different.
“I won't feel it. I don’t feel anything anymore.” Jarod said sadly to the stranger.
“So melodramatic.” She slurred slightly, telling Jarod that this lady had been drinking too.
“What is it to you anyway?” He asked getting annoyed.
“Jarod, look at me.” She ordered softy, yet forcibly.
Jarod’s head shot up at this lady, she knew his name. How? No-one except the Centre knew him around here. Could the Centre be here to finally take him back?
Once Jarod’s eyes focused on the women, he gasped, his hand shooting up to his mouth.
“Parker? It can’t be, you’re dead. I saw you die. How can you be alive?”
“Excuse me?” She asked confused.
“You’re not her.” Jarod said sadly as her confusion told his tired brain that she didn’t know what he was going on about. "Why did you call me Jarod if you’re not her?"
"I'm sorry, but I didn't call you by your name. I don't even know your name." The woman said sadly, this man was in so much pain.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. You just remind me of some one special I lost recently. I could have sworn you said my name. I really must be losing it.” Jarod apologised as he threw back the last of his scotch.
A smile spread across the lady’s face as she took in what he said. Looking at the worn man, she was overcome with how beautiful he was, even if he was deadly pale, unnaturally thin and had a half grown beard. Ordering another drink for the both of them, she told him without words that she was sticking around.
After two more drinks, the bartender decided to leave them with the bottle. Both people had been through nearly a bottle and a half of scotch each and were merrily laughing now. The death of the loved one that seemed to have made the man depressed earlier had left his thoughts.
#######
The bar had the local radio station playing in the back ground, and the couple decide to dance. Not like they could walk, let alone dance, but they tried anyway.
The song was coming through the speakers loudly, moving the few people that were dancing softly.
How do I get through one night with out you?
If I had to live with out you
What kind of life would that be?
Oh I, I need you and my arms need you to hold
You’re my world, my heart, my soul
If you ever leave
Baby, you would take away everything good in my life
And tell me now
How do I live with out you
I want to know
How do I breathe without you
If you ever go
How do I ever ... ever survive
How do I
How do I
How do I live
Jarod clung tightly to the body pressed against him, afraid that another person would leave him alone in the dark. His eyes started to sting with the unshed tears.
Without you, there‘d be no sun in my sky
There would be no love in my life
There would be no world left for me
And I, baby I don’t know what I would do
I’d be lost if I lost you
If you ever leave
Baby you will take away everything real in my life
And tell me now
How do I live with out you
I want to know
How do I breathe without you
If you ever go
How do I ever ... ever survive
How do I
How do I
Oh How do I live
Jarod couldn’t stop the sob that escaped his lips nor the tears that started to cascade down his cheeks. She tried to step back to see what was wrong with the man, but he held on to her for dear life.
“Jarod, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me Parker!” Jarod sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I killed you! I’m so sorry Parker.” Jarod cried out. He was drunk enough not to care who he said it to, he just needed Parker to know how sorry he was.
Please tell me baby
How do I go on
If you ever leave?
Well baby you’d take away everything
Need you in me
Baby don’t you know your everything good in my life
And tell me now
How do I live with out you
I want to know
How do I breathe without you
If you ever go
How do I ever ,,, ever survive
How do I
How do I
Oh How do I live
How do I live with out you?
How do I live with out you? Baby
How do I live with out you?
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Come on let’s go back to your place and have another drink.” She offered.
Jarod slowly let the women go as soon as he realised she wasn’t going to leave him. If Jarod was a litter more sober, he would have been ashamed and embarrassed at his out burst, but the amount of alcohol in his system made it impossible to care.
They slowly walked from the bar back to the rented house Jarod was staying at. It was a total mess, papers and files were spread over the floor and table in the kitchen, clothes disposed of on the floor all around the house, empty bottles left on the floor.
Jarod went straight to the fridge and took out two beers. He opened both and offered one to his guest.
Neither drinking nor the talking lasted for long. Before either knew what was happening, they were both naked in Jarod’s bed.
He caught a bus heading west and crossed two state lines before he got off and sought out a hospital. The nurses and doctors badgered him for answers as to why he had days old injuries. But it was soon clear they wouldn’t get an answer and left him alone.
They had stitched a few of the deeper wounds on his legs and re-stitched the wound on his forehead. An x-ray showed his dislocation was healing nicely and showed that his wrist was indeed badly broken. It was snapped in three different places along his wrist and lower forearm. After it was plastered and he was bandaged back up, he left.
The last week had been spent back in Blue Cove. He wanted to be close to her, to her presence so he went to her house. When he had gained access to her home, Jarod stood at the back door, frozen. He could feel her in the house, could smell the alcohol in the air from all of her drinking sessions. Walking through the kitchen to the lounge room, Jarod was assaulted with memories of Parker. Picking up the framed picture of a young Miss Parker standing next to her mother broke his heart. Softly placing the photo back down, Jarod wiped the tears away from his eyes.
Walking up the stairs to her bedroom, Jarod tried to keep the pain, the grief inside. Entering her room, Jarod saw all of her most personal possessions. Her mother’s paintings, the few gifts her father had given her, Tommy’s shirts. Jarod heard small whimpers fill the room, it took a while to realise it was coming from his own mouth.
Walking over to her chest of drawers, Jarod saw her collection of jewellery. Picking up a silver chain he had seen on her quite a few times, Jarod clipped it around his neck and gently placed his hand over it. Smelling her perfume tore at his heart, gardenias and vanilla. He had caught that scent when they were trapped in the bank.
Making a small circle, Jarod turned around the room slowly, taking in all he could. Next to her bed Jarod caught a glimpse of red. Walking over, the pretender saw a dried, long stem, blood red rose standing in a vase. Reaching his trembling hands out to pick it up, he noticed a small white piece of paper sticking out of the vase. Pulling the paper out, Jarod let out a heart breaking sob. Opening the small note, Jarod read it softly,
‘Parker,
Happy Valentines.
J’
He had sent this to her the year after Tommy’s murder trying to let her know someone was out there, caring for her. She had kept it. She had kept his gift. Jarod felt a surge of rage go through him. He went over to her drawers, pulled them open and ripped her clothes out and threw them on the floor. Jarod pulled all the covers of her bed off and threw her pillows against the wall. After his short explosion, Jarod fell to his knees as heart-wrenching sobs escaped his body.
Crawling over to her bed, Jarod hauled himself up. He lay upon the half torn off sheets and the various pieces of clothing he had thrown around the room and had landed on the bed. Grabbing the lone pillow laying on the bed, the only one he had not thrown, Jarod snuggled up to the pillow that still vaguely smelt like her. He lay there, with all of her pictures around him. Her hairbrush, her clothes, her files, scattered around him as he fell into an exhausted slumber.
He only stayed one night though. He felt as if he was intruding. It was similar to when he snuck into her house while she was asleep or at work, to leave her presents. Only this time, he knew she wasn’t going to come home and find his gifts. It was very unsettling, so as soon as he had woken and fixed the room, leaving no evidence of his stay behind, he left. The chill of the pre-dawn air sent shivers down his spine as he took one last look at the summer house, turning, he walked away.
Jarod was aware that Sydney knew where he was. Jarod had caught Sydney tailing his car one day, as he drove through main street. But thus far, no contact had been made.
For the last week, Jarod had spent his nights at the bar Parker had gone to after she found out Tommy had been murdered. He paid the owner fifty dollars to keep the same booth open for him. He sat there, drinking all night, every night.
He needed to numb the pain. If he wasn’t drunk or passed out somewhere, he was thinking about her. The last couple of days he had spent with her. What she had done for him. What she had sacrificed for his freedom. He was filled with ‘what if’s’, what he could have done differently to save her life. It was eating him alive.
He ordered another scotch malt on the rocks, neat. Miss Parker’s favourite drink. This was the fifth drink he’d had within the hour. He never bothered to nurse them, just swallowed them in one hit, savouring the burning it made down his throat. It was ironic. He used to always scold Parker for her drinking habits, now he had formed the same ones.
How would he ever be able to forgive himself? How would Broots ever forgive him? Or Debbie? Or Sydney? What a mess he had made. He would sell his soul, if it meant Miss Parker would come back to him.
Jarod almost laughed at himself, Sell your soul huh? Where was that sentiment when you were running away, like the coward that you are??
#######
It had been three hours since he had arrived today, only 23:00, early really. Jarod had no plans for moving from this spot until he passed out and was thrown out of the bar. He was on his twelfth drink. He could barely sit up anymore. He was becoming a serious drunk.
It took him a moment to process that someone had sat down across from him.
“You need to go easy on the drinks or there will be major repercussions for you in the morning.” The voice was oddly familiar, yet strangely different.
“I won't feel it. I don’t feel anything anymore.” Jarod said sadly to the stranger.
“So melodramatic.” She slurred slightly, telling Jarod that this lady had been drinking too.
“What is it to you anyway?” He asked getting annoyed.
“Jarod, look at me.” She ordered softy, yet forcibly.
Jarod’s head shot up at this lady, she knew his name. How? No-one except the Centre knew him around here. Could the Centre be here to finally take him back?
Once Jarod’s eyes focused on the women, he gasped, his hand shooting up to his mouth.
“Parker? It can’t be, you’re dead. I saw you die. How can you be alive?”
“Excuse me?” She asked confused.
“You’re not her.” Jarod said sadly as her confusion told his tired brain that she didn’t know what he was going on about. "Why did you call me Jarod if you’re not her?"
"I'm sorry, but I didn't call you by your name. I don't even know your name." The woman said sadly, this man was in so much pain.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. You just remind me of some one special I lost recently. I could have sworn you said my name. I really must be losing it.” Jarod apologised as he threw back the last of his scotch.
A smile spread across the lady’s face as she took in what he said. Looking at the worn man, she was overcome with how beautiful he was, even if he was deadly pale, unnaturally thin and had a half grown beard. Ordering another drink for the both of them, she told him without words that she was sticking around.
After two more drinks, the bartender decided to leave them with the bottle. Both people had been through nearly a bottle and a half of scotch each and were merrily laughing now. The death of the loved one that seemed to have made the man depressed earlier had left his thoughts.
#######
The bar had the local radio station playing in the back ground, and the couple decide to dance. Not like they could walk, let alone dance, but they tried anyway.
The song was coming through the speakers loudly, moving the few people that were dancing softly.
How do I get through one night with out you?
If I had to live with out you
What kind of life would that be?
Oh I, I need you and my arms need you to hold
You’re my world, my heart, my soul
If you ever leave
Baby, you would take away everything good in my life
And tell me now
How do I live with out you
I want to know
How do I breathe without you
If you ever go
How do I ever ... ever survive
How do I
How do I
How do I live
Jarod clung tightly to the body pressed against him, afraid that another person would leave him alone in the dark. His eyes started to sting with the unshed tears.
Without you, there‘d be no sun in my sky
There would be no love in my life
There would be no world left for me
And I, baby I don’t know what I would do
I’d be lost if I lost you
If you ever leave
Baby you will take away everything real in my life
And tell me now
How do I live with out you
I want to know
How do I breathe without you
If you ever go
How do I ever ... ever survive
How do I
How do I
Oh How do I live
Jarod couldn’t stop the sob that escaped his lips nor the tears that started to cascade down his cheeks. She tried to step back to see what was wrong with the man, but he held on to her for dear life.
“Jarod, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me Parker!” Jarod sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I killed you! I’m so sorry Parker.” Jarod cried out. He was drunk enough not to care who he said it to, he just needed Parker to know how sorry he was.
Please tell me baby
How do I go on
If you ever leave?
Well baby you’d take away everything
Need you in me
Baby don’t you know your everything good in my life
And tell me now
How do I live with out you
I want to know
How do I breathe without you
If you ever go
How do I ever ,,, ever survive
How do I
How do I
Oh How do I live
How do I live with out you?
How do I live with out you? Baby
How do I live with out you?
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Come on let’s go back to your place and have another drink.” She offered.
Jarod slowly let the women go as soon as he realised she wasn’t going to leave him. If Jarod was a litter more sober, he would have been ashamed and embarrassed at his out burst, but the amount of alcohol in his system made it impossible to care.
They slowly walked from the bar back to the rented house Jarod was staying at. It was a total mess, papers and files were spread over the floor and table in the kitchen, clothes disposed of on the floor all around the house, empty bottles left on the floor.
Jarod went straight to the fridge and took out two beers. He opened both and offered one to his guest.
Neither drinking nor the talking lasted for long. Before either knew what was happening, they were both naked in Jarod’s bed.
