<< Go Back

Broken - A Story of Redemption

By Jane Daly

Order Now!

Worst. Night. Ever. She stank like the inside of a Porta-Potty—human misery baked to perfection in ninety-degree heat. Spending a night in jail will do that.
Jinxi Lansing shoved open the door to the Sacramento City Courthouse and squinted in the August morning. She gingerly crossed the concrete porch, careful of the stiletto-grabbing cracks in the pavement. No wonder they were called ankle-breakers.
She heaved a deep sigh as a group of women in heavy makeup crowded through the door. Everyone wanted outta there. Including her.
A couple of the women bumped her off balance.
“Geez, am I invisible?” Jinxi muttered with a curse. She tugged the hot-pink mini skirt to cover what needed to be covered, at least in broad daylight.
Plan A. She’d collect her backpack from the bus station locker, change out of these ridiculous clothes, and grab a shower at the YWCA.
Plan B. If the Y was full, she’d—
Bam!
A cop with his head down, texting, nearly bowled her over. Stupid jerk.
“My bad. Didn’t see you.” He held out a hand as she lost her balance and regained it.
He looked her up and down, but not in a creepy way. Weird, considering how she was dressed.
“What’re you looking at?” Jinxi demanded, hand on her hip.
“Sorry.”
She flicked her fingers at him. “Move along. Nothing to see here.” Maybe he wouldn’t bust her for telling a cop to get lost.
When he didn’t move, she gave him a full dose of the stink eye. What the—why was he still staring? He didn’t look creepy. More like some guy on a TV cop show. Dark buzzed hair, the shadow of a beard—all clean-cut and American. His cop stare still creeped her out.
He spoke at last. “You hungry?”
“Why do you care?” He was trying to trap her like the cop last night.
“I’m heading up the street to grab some breakfast. You look like you could use something to eat after … you know.” He waved an arm in the general direction of the jail.
Jinxi narrowed her eyes. “And you get what, exactly, for buying me breakfast?” Had to be a catch. There always was.
The cop shrugged. “Nothing. Hey, it’s no biggie to me. Eat or don’t eat. Your choice.” He turned toward I Street and started walking.
Jinxi’s stomach growled. Dang, she was hungry. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let him buy breakfast. If this was another setup, at least she’d have food in her.
“Hey, wait up.” Jinxi tripped, struggling to catch up. Stupid shoes. Why had she ever listened to Shana? An easy way to make money, she’d said. Yeah, right. Hard to tell who was lamer— Shana, or Jinxi for believing her. At least the cop had the decency to slow down until she reached him.
“How far is it?” she huffed.
“Couple of blocks.”
“Hold up. Let me take these off.” Jinxi slipped off the shoes, wincing.
They walked the two blocks in silence. Jinxi’s bare feet slammed onto the hot concrete as she scrambled to keep up with his longer strides. At the diner’s entrance, she shoved her aching toes back into the shoes.
Delicious aromas wafted out. Coffee. Bacon. Her stomach took that moment to growl again. Loud.
The cop grinned at her. “See? I knew you looked hungry.”
He held the door to let her enter first before heading toward a booth in the back. He took the bench on the side facing the front. Jinxi hesitated. Could this be another in a string of bad decisions? With a sigh, she tossed her purse on the cracked plastic-covered bench. As soon as she was seated, the waitress dropped two mugs on the table and sloshed coffee into each.
“Mornin’, Dean. Who’s your friend?” She motioned to Jinxi with the pot.
Before Jinxi could protest that they weren’t friends, the cop answered, “Well, Mindy, I’m about to find out.” He smiled at the older woman. Mindy chuckled as she strolled to the next booth.
So his name was Dean. Figured. It suited him. All muscular and jock-like. Not much older than her. But seriously, what kind of a guy was a regular at a dump diner like this?
“If I’m going to buy your breakfast, I guess I should know your name.”
Jinxi watched him ruin his coffee by adding two creamers and three sugars. Disgusting. She looked up to find him staring at her.
“Huh?”
“Name.” He pointed his spoon at himself. “Dean.” At her. “You?”
“Oh, uh, Jinxi.” She picked at the black nail polish on her thumb.
Wait for it, wait for it.
“Is that a nickname?”
Bam. This guy was right on point. “Yup.”
She took a swig of pure, unadulterated coffee, waiting for the caffeine to kick in. She’d need it if this guy was a talker.
“What’s your real name?”
Yeah, he was a talker. She grimaced as she said her full name. Did she look like a Jeanette? Hard no. “Jeanette Xaviera Lansing.”
“I’m Dean Rafferty. Nice to meet you.”
She shifted on the bench. Her skirt stuck to the Naugahyde, trapping her legs in a pink sheath.
“Could it get any hotter?” asked the waitress as she sidled up to their table. She had a pencil tucked behind her ear, apparently forgotten as she dug around in her apron pocket, order pad in one hand.
“Makes me glad I work nights,” the cop answered.
Jinxi grimaced. Yeah, she tried to work nights, too. That didn’t always go so well.
“What’ll it be today?” All business, once the missing pencil was located.
Jinxi scanned the one-page laminated menu, searching for the plate with the most food.
“Ladies first,” the cop said.
“I’ll have the Big Breakfast.”
“Same for me,” the cop said.
“Bacon or sausage.”
“Bacon,” they answered in unison.
“Pancakes or French toast.”
“Pancakes.” Again, they answered at the same time.
“All righty, I’ll be back to warm up your coffees.”
Not soon enough. Jinxi took another swig from the thick mug as Dean stared at the thin scars criss-crossing her arms.
Color darkened his face.
“What’s the matter? Never seen a cutter before?”
He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Uh, yeah.”
Jinxi put her hands in her lap. “Lucky you. Now you got to see it up close and personal.” She should never have agreed to breakfast. Her thoughts turned to the knife in her backpack, and to how long it would be until she could get out of here, locate the bus station, and find release.
At least he’d stopped talking for, like, ten seconds.
“I was watching this cool video on YouTube the other day,” he said, “about how these guys train their dogs.”
What the … where did that train of thought come from? This guy was too much.
“They put a dog biscuit on the dog’s nose. The dogs are trained to stay still until the owner says, ‘go,’ or something. The dogs throw the treat up off their nose and grab it in midair.”
Despite herself, she answered, “Sounds mean, making the dogs wait. Like animal abuse.”
“Hmm. I never thought of it that way. I guess if someone told me to put a Twinkie on my nose and not eat it until they said to, I’d have a hard time with that.”
“A Twinkie, no. That wouldn’t do it for me. But a Taco Bell Burrito Supreme, yeah, that’d be tough.”
Go figure. She was having a conversation with a cop.
Dean laughed. “Oh, yeah. Definitely couldn’t wait for a Burrito Supreme.”
“Looks like you’ve known lots of Burrito Supremes.” Oh, great. Did she tell this cop he looked fat? That had to be against the law.
Jinxi looked up to see his face as red as if he’d been sissy-slapped. He was blushing.
“It’s the Kevlar vest,” he said. “It adds twenty pounds.”
Wow. The cop was embarrassed about his weight. Priceless. Jinxi took a sip of coffee to keep from grinning.
The cop mowed through his breakfast as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. His masculinity filled the small booth, suffocating her. The guy was massive, intimidating. Appetite gone, she shoved her plate away.
After he’d sopped up every bit of syrup and eaten every piece of egg, he drained his coffee cup. He leaned back and rubbed his stomach.
“You done?” He indicated her half-eaten breakfast with a wave of his hand. Before she could answer, he reached across the table and grabbed a piece of bacon off her plate.
Yup, done now.
Jinxi followed him to the register while he paid. Outside the diner, the sky had turned a dirty gray while they’d been inside.
Dean sniffed. “Smells like a fire somewhere.”
A fire. Jinxi’s hand flew to her mouth. Images of a house in flames threatened to make her hurl. She needed to get away. Ripping off the shoes, she strode back the way they’d come.
“Thanks for breakfast,” she called over her shoulder. But the cop was right behind her. She startled, dropping her shoes. “Dude. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? What do you want?”
“Do you need a ride somewhere?”
So that’s what this was all about. Here’s where the guy gets you into his car and expects payment for breakfast. She clicked the lip stud back and forth against her teeth and shrugged. Might as well get it over with. If she said no, he’d probably find a way to arrest her. Ten minutes. She could put up with anything for ten minutes. Maybe he’d drop her at the bus station after.
“Sure. Whatever. Drop me at Greyhound.”
“All right. My truck is parked at the police station.” He turned and started back toward the jail as she doubled-stepped alongside.
Dean’s truck’s cab was as clean as a new penny and smelled like the furniture polish they used at the Girls’ Ranch. Yuck.
Dean swung around to the driver’s side. Jumping in, he shoved the key into the ignition and pulled out of the parking spot with a jerk. They bounced over the curb and into the street as he gunned the accelerator.
“Geez, what’s the rush?” Was he that desperate? Jinxi gripped the armrest, wondering where he would take her. “Mind if I smoke?” A cigarette would calm her jangling nerves.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
Figured. Jinxi pulled down the sun visor and flipped open the mirror. And gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me I had black stuff smeared around my eyes?” The streaks of mascara created a macabre mask.
Dean shrugged. “I thought it was all part of the, you know, Goth thing.”
Jinxi muttered a curse. “You got a tissue or anything in here?” She pulled open the glove box and found some crumpled fast-food napkins. She licked one to moisten it and went to work on the mess.
Satisfied she’d gotten the worst of it, she finger-combed her hair.
“That your natural color?” Dean asked.
Are you always this nosy?
“Nope.” He didn’t need to know she dyed her hair black to cover up the white-blonde mane she’d been cursed with, making her look even younger than her twenty-one years.
Maybe if she faced the passenger window, he’d shut up. They turned into a residential street in the downtown area. Seemed every other house was under construction. Prominent Victorians with wraparound porches and square pillars were sandwiched between smaller homes, vying for position. She pictured families eating breakfast together, children getting ready for school, cozy and happy. A foreign country. A secret language with no translation.
“What are you thinking about?”
Geez, this guy was relentless. Jinxi glared at him. “I was thinking you could give me fifty bucks for a hotel room.”
“What?” His head rotated between her and the windshield. Twice.
“Fifty bucks. Hotel room. Isn’t that where we’re going? So you can get paid back for breakfast? You get a little something extra, and I get something extra.” The words rolled out from a dark place. A place where everything had its price, and nobody expected something for nothing.
Dean maneuvered the truck around a slow-moving cab.
“All right. I see how it is. How ’bout I offer you something better than fifty bucks and a hotel room?”
This situation was getting weirder by the minute. Maybe the cop was a perv. Jinxi reached into her backpack and wrapped her hand around the cold canister of pepper spray. The cop was going down. He just didn’t know it yet. 
Chapter 2

Order Now!

<< Go Back