Page 46 of Under His Control

Jacob lifts his hand to knock on the door when it swings open. A stout man in a stained white t-shirt and black sweatpants stands in the doorway.

Behind him, an overturned chair with a broken leg lies on the floor, and a woman peers at us with a scowl on her flushed face. My eyes widen at the familiar blue highlights in her hair.

What’s her name again?

Sarah…? No. Sasha.

“What the fuck do you want?”

The stout man shifts a glare between me and Jacob. He stinks of booze and his breath is diabolical.

“Just making sure everything’s OK, Wayne,” Jacob says in a calm voice.

Wayne sneers. “Who the hell are you? How do you know my name?”

“He’s the guy who helped Ruth bring your drunk ass into the house the other night,” Sasha says in a mean tone.

“Is Ruth home?” Jacob asks.

Sasha forces a smile. “No, she’s at work. Everything’s fine. My husband and I are just having a little disagreement.”

Little?

The broken chair begs to differ.

“So mind your own fucking business!” Wayne snarls.

He slams the door shut in our faces, rattling the windows. I flinch at the loud sound. More angry whispers follow from behind the door, growing fainter as though they’re walking away.

Jacob shakes his head then turns away from the door. He places his hand on my back and I look up at him, trying not to pay attention to his touch as he guides me down the porch stairs.

“I know that lady. She’s the nurse who attended to me after my accident. Their little disagreement might get worse. Should we call the cops?”

Jacob lets his hand fall to his side as we’re walking down the driveway and I miss his warmth.

“No. We’re going to mind our own fucking business.”

“How come you tried to intervene?”

“Wayne is Ruth’s stepdad. She gave me the impression they aren’t on the best terms. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t hurting her.”

On one hand, it’s nice to see that underneath the thick layer of frosty meanness, Jacob still has a caring middle. On the other, jealousy needles me.

He didn’t think twice about rushing to Ruth’s rescue. Meanwhile, I literally had to get down on my knees for his help, and it still came with conditions.

Ruth doesn’t have a bitter history with him like I do.

Maybe she even makes him happy.

Ruth comes to mind. Her beautiful face, her gorgeous auburn hair, and her sweet smile as she handed me the cupcakes.

These are for Jacob.

The needling becomes more of a stabbing, forcing words out of me.

“Are you dating Ruth?”

He scoffs. “Absolutely not.”