When Marty reached the clearing that morning, he was surprised the front door of the cabin was closed. More often than not, Jess would arrive before him, but he was earlier than usual since there hadn't been that many deliveries to make for Mr. Dwyer.
The cabin was still warm from the heat of the previous day and he opened up the windows, then got a mug and filled it with cool water from the pump. Taking it to the front door, he drank it leaning against the door frame. While he listened to the birds singing in the trees, he watched the spot Jess would appear. The air was still cool in the woods, but it was already hot in town. It was going to be a perfect day for swimming.
When he'd finished his water, he washed the mug and put it away. Figuring Jess was probably on her way, he decided to meet her part way. He took his time walking through the woods, but when he'd almost reached the winding drive, he was disappointed she wasn't there yet.
Taking a chance, he slowly stepped out of the trees, listening for a car. He peered down the drive, then walked several feet, but it made him uncomfortable to be exposed out in the open, and he turned and headed back into the woods.
Reaching the clearing, he checked the cabin in case she'd used the path, but found it empty. Pulling out his pen knife and a small piece of wood he'd been working on from his pocket, he sat on the front step. While he whittled, the sun crept closer until it reached his legs. Getting up to get out of the heat, a thought occurred to him. Perhaps if he took a look at the house, he'd figure out what was taking her so long. At least it would give him something to do. He was beginning to feel antsy sitting around and waiting. Putting his knife and wood back in his pocket, he strode towards the path.
When he'd first begun climbing over the fence at the age of twelve, he'd spied on old man Blackwell's house numerous times, but it was boring as hell and he'd long ago given it up. The only people he ever saw outside were Blackwell's driver doing yard work, or the maid hanging laundry. Even Jess's cousin never came outside.
Walking quickly down the path, he soon reached the turn just before the garage. He stopped and listened, but it was quiet as usual and he continued, pushing aside a tree branch and stepping out behind the garage. Making his way to the corner, he listened for signs anyone was outside, but he heard nothing and stuck his head out.
A cold shock went through his body. Old man Blackwell was stepping off his front porch carrying a suitcase with the maid behind him. Both of them locked eyes with him before he could jump back.
"Hey!"
He turned and ran.
"Stop!"
Don't go down the path! he thought as he reached the entrance. That would lead them right to the cabin. He passed it as he ran behind the garage, a plan forming in his mind. He'd get Blackwell to chase him in the opposite direction and then lose him in the woods.
He came out from behind the garage and just as he began sprinting across the grass, something hit him hard from the side, knocking him to the ground and landing on top of him with a grunt. It was Blackwell's driver.
Marty struggled desperately to get out from under his crushing weight while both men grabbed hold of him, and he was pulled up. He tried to wriggle out of their grip, but with both of them holding him, it was impossible. Then the driver managed to pin his arms behind his back so tight they felt like they were going to snap.
"What the hell do you think you're doing on my property?" Blackwell roared while Marty struggled. There was a sound like a crack of thunder followed by a terrible stinging pain as Blackwell slapped him hard across the face.
"Johnny! He's just a boy!" he heard the maid exclaim while he gritted his teeth to keep from making a sound.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Blackwell shouted.
While his cheek throbbed, Marty glared up at him, rage coursing through his body. If his hands were free, Blackwell would have a broken nose right now.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Blackwell demanded.
Marty's heart sped up, knowing it was over. There was no way he was going to be able to escape, but that didn't mean he was going to give in. Let the old man figure it out, he thought angrily while he continued to glare at him.
"Alright! We'll see if the police can convince you to talk!" Blackwell growled, and he turned to head back to the house.
As Marty was dragged past the maid, she looked anguished, one hand covering her mouth, and he began to feel sick. He was going to jail. His freedom had vanished. But what about Jess? What was going to happen to her? If Blackwell found out she'd been meeting with him, she'd be punished too, possibly beaten. He couldn't let that happen. He had to protect her. It was all he could do now.
While he was wrenched up the steps, Blackwell threw open the front door so hard it hit a wall. He stalked inside and Marty was wrestled in behind him.
"Oh, my goodness! What happened?"
It was Jess. He'd never heard her sound that way before, her voice full of panic and fear, and he looked up. She was halfway down an ornate staircase, holding onto the banister – and she was looking right at him.
No, Jess, he thought desperately and realization came into her eyes as she understood what an awful mistake she'd just made.
"Uncle Jonathon, what's going on?" she cried in the same voice, looking at old man Blackwell.
"I just caught this delinquent trespassing, that's what's going on!" Blackwell shouted as he headed to a small table where a telephone sat.
Marty was relieved Blackwell hadn't noticed Jess had spoken to him, but he slumped, knowing what was coming.
"What's that piece of trash doing in our house?"
Marty lifted his head to see Jess's smarmy cousin walking down the stairs. Jess's face was livid as she rounded on him, but Marty didn't hear what she said because old man Blackwell bellowed, "Do you know that boy?" at the same time.
Instead of answering his father, Doug gaped at Jess.
"Douglas!"
"I, uh, I don't know him," Doug said, finally tearing his eyes away from Jess. "I've seen him at school. His dad's that drunk who works at the filling station outside of town."
"He does, does he?" Blackwell sneered to Marty with triumph as he reached for the telephone. "That will make things much easier for the police."
"You're calling the police?" Jess asked, her voice suddenly much higher, and Marty had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, seeing the desperation in her face. Don't do it, Jess. Don't give yourself away.
"Am I supposed to just let him trespass on my property?" Blackwell shouted angrily as he picked up the receiver. "Who knows what he was intending to do? I'm going to make sure he's locked up for a long time!"
"Wait!" Jess cried, and Blackwell looked up at her sharply. "Uncle Jonathon, I – I know him," she said, appearing as though she was about to cry.
No!
Marty hadn't realized he'd started struggling until the driver tightened his hold on his arms, nearly lifting him off the ground and causing a searing pain across his shoulders. Blackwell gave him a dirty look as he stilled, gritting his teeth against the pain.
"He's – he's –," Jess stammered, getting her uncle's attention. "He's – in some of my classes. He's not a bad boy." Blackwell snorted in response. "He just made a mistake. I'm sure he won't do it again."
"I'm not going to argue with you about this, Jessica" Blackwell muttered angrily, putting the receiver to his ear.
"It just doesn't seem right to ruin his life over a mistake!" she pleaded as he began dialing.
"Johnny, he's so young," Marty heard the maid implore behind him, but Blackwell ignored her as well.
"Dad – Dad, wait," Doug said loudly. "I think they're right."
Blackwell stopped mid-dial and both he and Marty looked up at Doug with incredulity. Was Doug actually speaking up for him?
"He's just a stupid punk kid. He won't come back now that he knows what will happen to him if he does."
Marty watched Blackwell stare at his son, wondering what was going on. As the silence stretched, it seemed everyone was holding their breath and it occurred to him Blackwell might be considering letting him go. Then Blackwell's hand slowly placed the receiver back on its cradle and Marty's heart began racing, hardly able to believe it.
"Alright," Blackwell said as he turned and approached Marty. "I'll let him go." Then Blackwell grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and glared down at him. "Let this be a lesson to you, boy!" he growled. "If you ever come on my property again, it'll be years before you see the outside of a jail cell. Do you understand?"
"Yes, s-sir," Marty muttered, stumbling as he forced the word out.
"Escort him off the property!" Blackwell barked, and Marty was jerked towards the door. He couldn't help glancing up at the stairs, getting one last look at Jess, but he wished he hadn't. She looked like she was in agony, her eyes red and full of pain.
The maid quickly stepped out of their way and he was wrenched out the door. As they stumbled down the steps, Marty worried they were going to fall into the gravel, but the driver released one of his arms and grabbed onto the back of his neck while his other hand gripped Marty's upper arm like a vice.
While they walked down the drive, Marty's instinct was to break loose and start running, but he resisted the urge. Even though the driver was gripping him tight enough to hurt, it was best to keep his cool and not make any more mistakes.
"Yer thinkin' ya got away with somethin', don't ya?" the driver hissed under his breath once they were hidden from the house by the trees, his fingers digging into Marty even more painfully. "Yer thinkin' maybe the family's a soft touch. But you'd be makin' a mistake ta think that."
There was a coldness in the man's voice that instantly made Marty's body tense and his heart pound in his chest.
"I know what ya are," he sneered. "Trash – just like the young master said, and I know how ta deal with trash."
He was baiting Marty, just like Marty's old man would. He saw the gate appear after a turn and he kept his eyes glued to it. He was almost there. He just needed to keep quiet a few more minutes and he'd be free. He could do this.
"If ya come around here again, jail will be the least of yer worries, I'll tell ya that right now."
What did he mean by that, Marty wondered as they approached the gate, and then he was pushed hard from behind. He landed painfully against the iron bars, nearly falling to the ground. What the hell? He jumped up and wheeled around, his hands balling into fists in case he needed to defend himself, but then he froze. The man had pulled one half of his suit jacket away from his body, revealing a holstered pistol under his left arm.
"Now ya see, don't ya?" he said with a leer. He took a step towards Marty, and Marty stepped back, hitting the gate.
"If I catch ya anywhere near Mr. Blackwell's property again," he said, his voice low and ominous. "I'll be puttin' a bullet in yer head. Do ya hear me?"
Marty nodded once, his heart pounding in his chest. From the cold look in the man's eyes, he had no doubt he meant it.
"Don't ya move!" he warned, letting go of his jacket so he could pull out a pair of keys. Marty tried to stay perfectly still as his body shook, watching the man unlocked the gate.
"Now go on with ya!" he said, grabbing Marty's arm shoving him through the opening.
Marty stumbled but quickly recovered, and began running down the dirt road as fast as he could to put as much distance between himself and the gun as quickly as possible. As he sprinted, the sound of his shoes hitting the packed dirt made one word pound through his head; stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. How could he have been so stupid?
Reaching the highway, he stopped, wheezing for air, his body still shaking. Feeling unsafe, he stepped off the road and hid behind a bush next to the iron fence. He put his hands on his knees and tried to collect himself while he struggled to get enough oxygen, his lungs burning with the effort.
Waves of fear, humiliation, and anger washed over him. Why hadn't he stayed at the cabin to wait for Jess? If he had, he'd probably be on his way to the pond with her by now. Not only had he almost gotten himself locked up, if Blackwell had called the police, they would probably have figured out he'd been visiting the cabin, and then Jess would be in trouble too. He could only imagine what Blackwell would do to her. He'd almost ruined both their lives.
When he was finally able to breathe normally, he straightened and stepped out from behind the bush, but he didn't know what to do. He wandered alongside the highway, sticking close to the iron fence, his ears open to any sounds of approaching cars. Reaching the road that led to his house, his eyes automatically rose, and he gazed at the tree branch he used to hoist himself over the spikes at the top of the fence. He longed to climb it, but he thought of the driver's leering face and the gun under his arm.
Then he remembered Jess's anguished face as she looked down at him from the stairs, and he finally tore his eyes away from the branch, taking a deep breath. Imagining her looking just like that, standing over his dead body, he let it out and turned. Walking down the road that led to his house, he shoved his hands in his pockets.
****
Are you surprised Marty was set free? Do you think he's never coming back to the cabin? Do you think he should? And what about Jess? Do you think anyone will guess she's more involved than she's let on? Let me know what you think!
Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, please consider giving it a vote! The picture in the multimedia is the actual house. The video is Am I Losing You by Jim Reeves.
Dedicated to @Cfunk3. A very good friend and a phenomenal author. She's just completed her second story, The Resurrection, which is part of a four book series. If you're not already reading her mysterious young adult romance, be sure to start with The Return. You won't regret it!