The Pain of Things

By J. L. Campbell

Roger Blythe has a reputation for being here today and gone tomorrow.
That's fine with Corinne Walker, until he decides to take their relationship to the next level. Corinne's cycle of dating men who have no chance of touching her heart has kept her sane over the years.
Roger's turnaround unsettles her, because just when she considers changing the way she lives, his secret life threatens to destroy everything they're building together.
When her past and future collide, Corinne has two choices. Run away from what could be a repeat of the devastation that has gone before, or stay and fight for what her heart says is right for her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Writer's Suite
• Release date: Feb 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9789768307514

Book preview

in medias res

Latin term for in the middle of things. Starting a story in the middle at a crucial point, rather than at the beginning, and filling in background information as the action progresses.

one

Shanice Jackson was in danger and didn’t know it. She was my target and the reason for my trip to Jamaica.

The man glaring at me blocked my view of the teenager. His gang of friends—a collection of three males wearing jeans, T-shirts, hoodies, and grillwork on their teeth—hovered, as if waiting for the opportune moment to pounce. They stepped in close, scowling, intent on keeping me from getting to Shanice.

Then, a barrage of gunfire erupted. The streetlights gave way in a shard of plastic that showered the sidewalk. The young hoodlums scattered in the darkness. Around me, the sound boxes continued blasting music with lewd lyrics.

I raced toward Shanice, who stood with both hands pressed to the sides of her head, and snagged her by the arm.

A bullet whizzed past my ear, leaving a trail of heat. My hand came away without any trace of blood, but it was still too close for comfort. Get down!

Shanice and I crouched beside a RAV4 parked next to the sidewalk. After a few tense seconds, I decided it was safe to move. The crush of bodies, as women screamed and ran in different directions, forced me to move fast. The darkness provided the necessary cover to help us escape and the dim glow coming from down the street provided all the light we needed.

Not for the first time, I wondered how the people around me could stand the noise and whether the sixteen-year-old girl at my side was in her right mind. She’d been giving me attitude from the moment I identified her from the close-up her parents had provided. Shanice was chock-full of resentment, but I didn’t care. My business was to finish the job her parents had paid me generously to do.

She pulled away, twisting her hand, but I held on tight, knowing she’d slip away if given a chance.

You have no right! she screeched behind me, competing with the sound system.

My grip was firm but not bone-crushing as I led her through the panicked crowd. Your parents gave me the right.

Another burst of gunfire had me sprinting toward the end of the street, where I’d parked the silver Hiace I rented when I landed on the island yesterday. A solid force collided with my chest and I stumbled but refused to release Shanice’s hand. Shifting sideways, I dislodged the blubbering woman who streaked away as we moved against the crowd.

When we stopped, Shanice shivered in the early morning air. Her wide eyes gave away her fear, despite the bravado she wore like a shield. So much for the wannabe thug she’d been with. He’d left without a thought for her safety.

I yanked the car door open and touched her bare shoulder. Get in.

She hesitated, then obeyed and shut the door.

At a trot, I went around to the other side, pulling off my windbreaker. When I sat next to her, I dropped it in her lap. Put this on.

Eyes narrowed, she peered at me as if thinking about defying my order.

The blast from the air conditioner’s vent hit Shanice and she shrugged on the jacket. She stared through the windscreen as if caught in her own world.

I figured she was probably thinking up lies to tell her distraught parents.

People moved back and forth in the road like a disturbed ant colony, and the reggae pounding in a steady thump added to the confusion. In the distance, blue lights flashed.

Since getting caught in a police dragnet wasn’t part of my plan, I maneuvered out of the spot where I’d parked the car and threw a baleful glare at a man lurking close by with a knife in his hand. He looked like he was thinking about doing some damage.

Laying my hand on the horn, I reversed down the street bordered on each side by dilapidated zinc fences. In a flash, the car hit the Spanish Town Road, and we headed for New Kingston and the hotel where Shanice’s parents waited.

She turned her head away from me as if fascinated by the sight of run-down buildings and people hanging out at street corner bars in the dead of night. Kingston was a city that never slept, according to Corinne, the woman I’d been seeing for a while now.

My gaze shifted to Shanice, who continued acting as if she was alone in the car.

I understood the classic signs of someone in defense mode. She didn’t want anything to do with me and didn’t plan to give an inch. We continued eastward in silence, with the hum of the engine and the air conditioner the only noise between us.

When we turned northward, she asked, How do I know my parents sent you and that you won’t rape me and dump me in a gully somewhere?

Her abrupt words surprised me, along with how late the inquiry came. That should have been her first question, and it told me how innocent she was to the ways of the world, despite her act.

I glanced sideways at her. Perhaps you should have thought of that before you skipped out on them.

She huffed, pulling the jacket tighter around her slim body. That’s not an answer.

Throwing her another look, I said, It’s the only one you’re getting. Think about all the reasons it was downright stupid to disappear in a strange place with people you barely know.

As far as her parents and I understood the sequence of events, she’d been keeping company with a young man from Jamaica who she met in school in the States. Before she arrived on the island, she contacted him to let him know she was coming. He promised to show her the insider sights and sounds of the city along with his crew, picked her up at the hotel, and went back to wherever he was staying.

That’s none of your business, she snapped, turning up her snub nose and whipping her head toward the window. From what I gathered, her parents had flown from the U.S. to Kingston on business. With Shanice on Easter break, they brought her with them. She told them she wanted to go to an event and they decided against it. Yesterday, while they were out at a seminar, she disappeared.

Through someone I’d previously worked for, the Jacksons accessed my number and flew me to the island from London, England, where I lived—when time allowed—and ran a distribution company. One crack at Shanice’s laptop and I was able to tell them she’d left a decent trail on the Facebook messenger app.

With the assistance of a tech-savvy associate and his genius locator gadget that was connected to Google Maps, it was easy to follow Shanice’s path into the inner city. Maxfield Avenue was a tough area, but Shanice had survived being holed up with her friends. Only God knew what she’d done in that time, and it wasn’t my business to ask. Suffice it to say, when I first spotted her she’d been simulating the sex act with one of the guys, or daggering as Jamaicans called it.

What she didn’t know was that her friends had sent a note to her parents to demand money for her safe return. The Jacksons had been very clear that they didn’t want even a whisper to reach the airwaves that their daughter had disappeared.

I didn’t doubt Shanice may have ended up in harm’s way if I hadn’t found her in time. If the rescue went awry, or her parents hadn’t been able to pay, they might have had to return to the States without her. The irony was, the girl had no idea that she was in a hostage situation.

Times like these made me grateful I didn’t have children. More to the point, teenage daughters. My brother’s kids brought enough drama and reminded me how blessed I was to be single. Because of what had happened in my first marriage, I’d had no intention of marrying again and kept to that decision for twenty years. Until Corinne.

Corinne Walker had me rethinking my current path. She knew nothing about this aspect of my life. As far as she was concerned, I roamed the well-known parts of Europe and the souks or marketplaces of Dubai, trading in coffee and spices while simultaneously earning easy money from my brother’s investment skills.

She and my mother lived in blissful ignorance about the places I’d been and what I’d done in those locales. Both would have either a stroke or heart attack if they knew half of the dangers I faced.

We pulled up to the hotel property and my attention went to the barrier rail and the security guard, who tapped the window. When I lowered it, he asked my name and who I was there to visit.

Out of habit, I gave him an alias and both of us looked at Shanice when she let out a dramatic sigh.

Are you okay, miss? the security guard asked.

For a second, I thought she’d scream bloody murder. The warning glint in my eye must have transmitted accurately to her because she folded her arms and huffed like the spoilt child she was. In a nasty tone, she said, I’m just fine.

The middle-aged man gave me a sympathetic smile and murmured. The teen years are the worst.

My lips lifted in a pseudo-smile and I thanked him. He’d likely assumed I was a father trying to cope with his capricious daughter. As soon as we found a parking spot, Shanice attempted to get out of the vehicle.

Not so fast, I said, detaining her with a hand on her shoulder.

If looks could kill, Shanice would have succeeded at running me through with a glare.

Her antics were lost on me. This was child’s play compared to some of the extractions I’d done in the past. But I was thankful she seemed unmolested after being with thugs who ate girls like her for breakfast. What puzzled me, was that in a city of filled with upstanding citizens and a social set that would be more her speed, Shanice chose to embrace the company of men who belonged to the underbelly of society.

Meeting her gaze, I said, You might think you’re grown and all that, but you have a way to go yet.

Her mouth opened, and my raised hand stopped her from speaking.

I don’t believe you’re the rotten, selfish little clot you’ve proven yourself to be through what you’ve done to your parents.

Shanice’s eyes blazed, but again my restraining gesture stopped her words.

I choose to believe you’re better than what you’ve shown me tonight and I hope you think about redeeming yourself with your mom and dad. I kept the distaste out of my voice as I continued, I don’t plan to tell your parents what I found you doing, if you don’t.

She had the grace to lower her gaze and bite her lip.

Good. Are we clear?

A tense couple of seconds slipped by before she nodded.

We’re done here.

We stepped out of the car and I stretched the kink out of my back and neck. The burning in my ear had eased, but it was a stark reminder that the evening could have ended differently. Corinne’s mischievous grin and the burgundy locs she’d been sporting appeared in vivid color before my mind’s eye. We were due to meet up at my nephew’s christening next week. Spending time with her reminded me of being on assignment—anything could jump off where this facetious, independent seductress was concerned. For a forty-something woman, she was like a sprite—energetic and playful—which made for interesting times when we were alone.

I steered Shanice into the building and resolved to touch base with Corinne tonight. If luck was on my side, fate wouldn’t have any other adventures lined up for me today.

two

Roger cut his eyes toward me and raised his voice. The clamor of the waves over the seashore competed with his accusation. Corinne, you and I know you’re lying.

In the last few minutes, we’d been talking about the length of time since we last saw each other. Roger was never shy to say how much he missed me when we weren’t together. Me, not so much. I’d just been trying to convince him that I’d been too busy taking self-defense classes, staying fit, and planning my vacation, to miss him.

Be that as it may. I shot Roger a disdainful look and continued walking. I think we should close this conversation.

His sexy grin emerged as he kissed the corner of my mouth. What the heck did you just say?

His words annoyed me because they hit too close to home. I wanted to pull my hand out of his warm grip but refused to act on my feelings. Instead, I glanced sideways at him as we made our way along the beautiful beach in Antigua where my best friend, Khalila, and her husband, Douglas, were celebrating their son’s christening.

Never mind that. This is not the time to be indulging in heavy conversation. We’re celebrating Zane and each other’s company. Let’s enjoy that.

We still have to talk about us. Although his tone was gentle, I didn’t miss the chiding note.

But we don’t have to do it now. Although I had the sense of being squeezed into a corner I wouldn’t be able to emerge from, I kept my tone light. I don’t want to tell you any lies, especially when we just got out of church. Let me relish this celebration of my god-baby. Please.

His lips twisted, then he said, Fine. We’ll talk later.

My nod was confident as I added, Sure.

For now, I had a reprieve, but no doubt Roger would circle back to the subject of our relationship the first chance he got.

We climbed the back steps of his mother’s guest house, a two-story building surrounded by a carpet of grass and fruit trees, including Otaheite apples, mangoes, papaya and soursop. Since our arrival, Roger and I gorged ourselves on the miniature apple bananas that grew in one corner of the property. That wasn’t the only thing we’d done in the grass under the tree, while acting as if we were teenagers with hormones running wild.

Hyacinth Blythe catered to return vacationers, who were like family to her. My favorite part of the property was the beach, accessible from the back of the house. The picturesque view and rustic furniture close to the shoreline were part of the charm of the property. I’d visited after the New Year, when Khalila flew in for a week to plan the christening. Miss Hyacinth and I had renewed our acquaintance then.

At that time, I found out she was aware that Roger and