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Enter The Black Oak: Chapter 21


MY KNEES HIT THE MOIST, GRITTY DIRT as Stella crouches down next to me, running her hand up and down my back.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry,” she whispers as if her own heart is breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

The nausea I felt earlier overpowers my body in pummeling waves and I get up, stumble a few steps and heave, vomiting the contents of my stomach onto the mossy ground beneath a towering tree protecting us from the sprinkle of rain. I crawl a few feet away, my head touching the ground in front of me. Kevin sits down next to me and strokes my back as Stella hands me a water bottle from her bag. I gulp down the contents before slowly getting to my feet and walking over to the metal fence to watch the half-naked couple perform their show. I can’t make out the words, but hear enough wisps of gentle laughter from Alex to suggest she’s enjoying her night. She’s still sitting on the table under the roof, though has shifted closer to Jack who is standing against the balustrade on the left side of the balcony.

“Don’t look, sweetie,” says Stella, bleak rage twisting her face. She looks as though she could rip open the metal bars with her bare hands.

The three of us glare at the grim spectacle, mesmerized by the unfolding scene and the intimate complicity that the two protagonists seem to share. After a minute or so, Alex shifts closer to Jack and leans towards him, her head at the same height as his crotch. I don’t breathe for a few seconds as she turns to put out her cigarette and then unwraps the towel covering her torso, letting it fall around her hips, her small, pert breasts naked in the moonlight. The couple talk quietly for a few moments until the woman suddenly leans forward and drops to her knees in front of the man and looks up at him, places her slim fingers on his belt—the same one I removed at the party yesterday—and unbuckles it. She slides a hand inside his grey jeans and pulls them down.

“Baby, don’t watch,” urges Stella, tugging at my arm gently to pull me away.

Paralyzed by the sight in front of me, I stay rooted to the spot as I study the surreal apparitions. The woman my husband yesterday told never to come near me again slowly licks his shaft several times from root to tip as he looks down at her. Jack leans his head back, looking up at the sky as he takes a drag of his cigarette before throwing the butt off the balcony and steadying himself against the balustrade with his hands, silently watching her slide her mouth up and down his manhood with care as I did for him a day ago. Stella tries to pull me away from the bars, but I grip them tightly, watching for a surreal minute as Alexandra Frost tends to Jack’s body with the utmost care and respect until he suddenly grabs her by the throat, flips her around and throws her facedown onto the table before climbing on top of her and fisting her hair roughly to keep her down. I see him reach into the pocket of the jeans bunched up around his knees and pull something out.

Enough!

A pounding heartbeat later, I’m running through the thicket of trees and fumbling for the car keys in my purse. As I reach the car, I unlock the door and jump in, followed by my friends, just as a heavy blast of rain slams the windshield.

“Jesus, Jess,” pants Kevin. “What you are you gonna do?”

“I don’t want to see him ever again! Ever!” I shout, my composure cracking like a vase hitting a concrete floor. “I can’t do this anymore!”

“You need to get away from that bastard,” Kevin nods. “This is so not healthy.”

“I’m going back to Manhattan. I’m gonna get my papers and ring and make sure I never have to see him again!”

“Let’s go, baby,” Stella says purposefully, buckling her seatbelt. “You sure you’re alright to drive?”

I nod and start the ignition, carefully pulling out before taking a left and another left around the block, back in the direction of the summer house where we were supposed to get the fresh start we had talked about for so many weeks.

“I’m going to drop you guys off,” I shout over the thud of rain.

“I’m coming with you,” insists Stella, “back to New York.”

“No!” I shout. “You’re staying here, Stella. You’ve got the place booked another week. You’re cousin’s coming. You’ve got the boat race tomorrow. I’m not letting your vacation be ruined like this. I can handle it. I’ll call Maddie or someone when I get back to Manhattan if I need help.”

“Jess, I’m worried about you driving when you’re in this state,” she responds.

“It’ll be okay. By the time you’re packed and ready to go, he’ll be back and I’ll end up bumping into him or something. I need to leave this place in five minutes.”

Despite vivid protests from my beautiful friends, I finally manage to convince them to let me go on my own as we pull up to Stella and Kevin’s rental house and get out.

“I’m sorry, guys,” I say.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” replies Kevin. “We love you.”

Stella hugs me tightly. “Call me if you need anything. Don’t forget to charge your phone before you leave.”

“I don’t want Jack to know I’m gone or he’ll try to come after me. If he calls you, don’t answer, okay? I need to get a head start in case he gets someone to drive him to Manhattan.”

As I get back in the car and pull away, I smile at my forlorn friends, hoping to at least give the illusion that I’m calm and in control, even if I feel anything but. They watch me in silence until I’m out of sight.

Rampant adrenaline rages through my system, giving me the strength of five women as I pull up to our house and park, rush up the steps like a spirit possessed and fumble for my keys with shaking hands. I run into the dark house, turning on lights before flying upstairs, cursing as I trip at the top. I know there are more mature, composed women who deal with these situations with poise and decorum, keeping their emotions in check and acting rationally and right now, I desperately wish I could be like them. Maybe if I didn’t feel like Jack’s DNA has intertwined with mine or something, I could plaster on a vacant smile and carry on as normal. But I can’t. Not this time.

I grab a few clothes and shoes out of the closet and throw them into my suitcase before washing my mouth out in the bathroom. I try to shove some of my bathroom stuff into my toiletry bag, but my jittery hands make this simple task a gargantuan feat and I end up just throwing the unzipped bag and my toothbrush into my suitcase, followed by my make-up and jewelry bags. I scan the room for anything I’ve missed as static blurs my vision.

“Shit!” I snarl as I spot the phone charger next to the bed. I still haven’t charged my damn phone. I zip up my suitcase and grab the charger, carrying both downstairs before plugging my phone in to charge next to the front door, if only for a few moments.

Goosebumps prick my skin as I run through the kitchen and into the office where just yesterday Jack was ravaging me over the ottoman. I grab my laptop that I had almost forgotten from the side table and stuff it into my suitcase, then look around a final time, scanning the place over, my heart racing so fast I’m afraid it will give in. My denim jacket somehow ends up on my body, followed by my damp shawl which I clumsily snake around my neck. I pick up my phone, its charger and my bags and leave, locking the door behind me before throwing my suitcase into the trunk of the car and my purse and phone onto the seat next to me.

After another deep breath to steady my fried nerves, I reverse out of the driveway and down the street, struggling to find my bearings as I drive through dark East Hampton Village streets with heavy rain now tapping my windscreen as the wipers clap furiously to keep the spray of water at bay.

There it is.

Turning west onto Route 27, it hits me that Jack may call my parents or even drive to their place when he gets back to the house and notices some of my stuff gone. Deciding to quickly warn them just in case, I pull into a gravelly lay-by to my right before switching my phone on, hoping that the three minutes of charging I did before I left will allow me to make at least one call. To my relief, the phone comes on and gives me a signal, though the battery symbol is flashing its emptiness in my face. I call my parents’ landline and wait.

“Jessie?”

“Dad!” I yell loudly, trying to make myself heard over the drum of the rain and the howling wind, inwardly cursing the ill-timed shitty weather which has already left my skin feeling frigid and my insides shivering. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I can hear you. Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. I’m just… I’m going back to Manhattan.”

“Is Jack there?”

“No, he’s— I’m going alone. We’ve had some problems. Nothing major, don’t worry. I just need to be by myself for a couple of days, sort a few things out.”

“Jessie, you can’t be driving in this weather in the dark! Come and stay with us for a few days if you need a break. Pull over somewhere. I can come pick you up.”

“No, dad, I can’t,” I shout over the loud thud of fat drops of relentless rain. “I just need to deal with a couple of things. I’ll be fine. I’ve driven at night many times. I’ll stay on the highway and if I get tired, I’ll check into a hotel or—”

“Listen, your mother wants to—”

“Jessynia? What’s this about?” my mother asks in that pissed-off tone she uses whenever she’s worried about one of her kids.

“Everything’s okay, mom. I just need to go back to Manhattan for a few days, be by myself.”

“Have you and Jack had a fight?”

“Yeah, but it’s not a big deal. I just need to be alone for a few days. I’ll be fine.”

“Just come stay with us. Your father will pick you up. You don’t have to see Jack.”

“Mom, I can’t. He’ll be straight round to your place and then it will all— Shit!” I exclaim as a beep lets me know my battery is about to die. “Mom, my battery’s dying. I have to go. Everything’s fine, trust me.”

“I don’t like this.”

“You have to trust me, mom, please. I have no battery left so I’m going to switch my phone off. I’ll be in Manhattan in two hours. If Jack calls, just don’t answer or tell him you don’t know where I am, okay?”

“I don’t like you driving so late at night. Be careful, please. Call us when you arrive.”

“I will, mom. I promise.”

“We love you,” she says.

“I love you too.”

I hang up my failing phone and switch it off, hoping that a couple of minutes of battery life remain in case I end up needing it for some reason.

I pull out onto Route 27, breathing a sigh of relief as I drive past Wainscott and Bridgehampton and finally reach Sunrise Highway which I tear down as if being chased by ghouls.


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