No Body No Crime // Taylor Swift

Holly

I make it to work ten minutes before my shift. I'm not usually an early bird to clock in, but I needed some space after spending the last day and a half with my mom. I'm starting to wonder if she's delusional. My dad has never been the misunderstood bad guy. He's just a bad guy, plain and simple. There's no excuse for any of the toxic shit he's done all my life. Not that Mom has made excuses for him, she's just accepted it. It's who he is, and she knows he'll never change. She hasn't been in a position, financially or physically, to leave him.

Even now that Jackson is breaking his back to help us get away, she's relatively unbothered about the whole thing. I tried to explain that Dad has a gun —something that didn't shock anyone— and actually used it on someone. Mom looked off into the distance and shook her head.

"I always wondered if he'd do something of this nature," she said. The outrage I thought I'd witness wasn't there. She'd resolved years ago that he was exactly this type of man and it was only a matter of time. I should probably be understanding. I should probably expect some type of Stockholm Syndrome in her. But I'm so angry at her right now. I can't even talk about how angry I am. The little girl who hid in the woods with Jackson knew this was the type of daddy she had. How does a little girl see more than her mother?

I guess I wasn't blinded by love or obligation the way my mom was. I guess I should give her grace. But not right now. Right now, I need space.
So, I decided to go to work, even though my boss told me to take time off. I left way before I needed to be here and drove around, thinking, wondering what would happen next. Wondering where he was lurking and when he'd make his presence known.

I shut off the engine and grab my bag. I might as well head inside even though I still have a few minutes. If I wanted it, I'd have the entire day, no questions asked. But I think if I spend any time with anyone in my life—because everyone in my life is wrapped up in this drama—I'll lose it. So, off to work I go.

I lock the door with the key—neither the remote lock and interior manual lock are working—and drop my keys into my purse. I turn around to head into the employee entrance and come face to face with the last person on Earth I ever want to see again.

"We have a deal to discuss." Dad smirks down at me. He looks more disheveled than usual. His beard lays against his chest in a tangled mess. His hair, usually greased back into a neat braid or ponytail, now frizzes around his face like a mane. He's wearing a wrinkled black t-shirt smelling of booze and body odor. Boots covered in patches of grease peek out of jeans equally dirty with whatever he's been working on, probably his motorcycle if I were to guess.

But it's his eyes that give me the most pause. He's trying to scowl, to intimidate me. But his eyes show fear. And I can't find it in myself to care.

"Nothing to discuss with you, Dad. I've got to head in to work." I try to brush past him. A futile effort because he reaches out and grabs my arm. It's his signature move. I knew it was coming but I wasn't about to give in without a fight.

"This is more important." He leans in a little closer, the scent of booze even stronger now. It's pouring out of his skin.

"You're drunk." His hand tightens around my arm. "Let go."

"You need to come with me."

I look around the parking lot, seeking a visual on his cab or his motorcycle. Nothing. I look back at him, brow wrinkled in confusion. How did he get here, walk?

"We're taking your mom's car." He smirks again. "Looks like your boy fixed it up. Not as big a pussy as his mom said he was."

I tense my jaw to keep from lashing out at him for the way he's talking about Jackson. I shouldn't be surprised about any of this, but he continues to shock me with his disregard for others.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." I school my voice to be even toned rather than raging the way I am inside. "My job is expecting me. I need to pay the bills."

"What I'm doing will pay all the bills, better than this shit job you have." With his free hand he reaches into my bag and digs around, producing my keys and pressing the unlock button on the key fob.

"It doesn't work," I say without thinking. I should keep my mouth shut and let him figure it out for himself. He shoves the key into the lock and opens the door.

"I'm not getting into a car with you. You're drunk." I repeat what I've already stated more firmly this time.

"I'm not driving. You are." He shoves me into the driver's seat before slamming the door and hopping into the passenger's seat behind me. "Take the back road to the water tower. I'll tell you more when we get there."

I glance in the rearview mirror to tell him absolutely not. I won't be going anywhere with him. It's then that I see the gun he's got laying in his lap and the glare he's sending my way.

"Stop you're stalling." He juts his chin out, a message to start up the car.

My mind scrambles with questions. How do I get out of this? What if he uses that gun? He already has, so he wouldn't hesitate, would he? What will he do at the water tower? What's even there for him to show me?

I don't know what to do so I start the car. Maybe while driving I can formulate a plan. Somehow get a call to Jackson. Leave some kind of sign that I need help. I glance over at the entrance to the care facility. So close. If only I had run to the entrance when I first saw my dad, maybe I'd be safe inside. Then I remember the gun. I don't doubt that he would have shot me without hesitating if I tried to run.

I start the car and pull slowly out of the lot, hoping someone inside happens to look up and see me driving away. I can't see anyone inside, all hope evaporating. As I pull out onto the street, I start praying. Somehow, I hope someone can find me.

***

Jackson

Grinder was released from the hospital and Julia drove him home. He's a cranky son-of-a-bitch when he's laid up. Even my dad couldn't take much more of his grouchy replies, so he went back to the shop, saying he needed to reschedule some of Grinder's appointments. I know for a fact he'd already done that first thing when I called to tell him what happened. But any excuse to get away from Grinder is a good one at this point.

I tried to get some work done at my place but couldn't concentrate. I'm waiting to hear back from Brax to see what his buddy, Frank, had to say about the Judge situation. I'm pacing the floors of my small place, getting ready to go downstairs and knock on Brax's front door when there's a knock at mine.

Finally, some information.

I rush to the door to start asking Brax a million questions, pull it open and freeze. Not Brax. Very, very not Brax.

It's my fucking mom.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I lean out to look past her, trying to see if Judge is with her or if Brax came out, too.

"So now a mom can't come visit her own flesh and blood? I knew you were a selfish kid but damn you've grown into a real asshole."

I glare at her as she stands on my porch with her arms crossed. Looking at her with new eyes, she's a bigger fucked up mess than I ever realized. Skinny, greyish complexion...old before her time. She looks twenty years older than she actually is now that I think about it.

"How did you-" I start to ask how she found my apartment. I never told her where I live, and yet here she is. On my doorstep. In fact, lately she's seemed to find out where I am miraculously. It makes me wonder...

"Oh, fuck. Are you—" I shake my head and step into her, forcing her to take a step back so I can close my door. I'm not inviting her in. Isn't there a thing about inviting the devil into your house? It gives them power over you. Or is that a vampire? Whatever. I don't care.

"So hospitable. Thanks ever so much for offering your mom a glass of water. I really did raise me a good son." Her eyes roll as she turns to walk down the steps leading to the backyard.

"Not so fast. You owe me some answers."

"Hardly. You won't even give me a seat."

"You weren't invited."

"Such a lovely thing to say to your mother."

"Such a fucked-up way to treat your own son."

We are squaring off at the top of the landing. I take a step back to give her some space. I don't want to crowd her to the point she falls down the stairs. I can picture it happening, too. I wouldn't put it past her to stage something like that for insurance fraud. I don't want to give her any rope to drag me into that kind of bullshit. But I'm not shying away from a confrontation. She's up to no good and I'm calling her on it.

"Following me, Mom? Really?" What other explanation could there be for the way she always seems to know where I am?

Without answering me, she turns around and starts stomping down the stairs. Her energy is entirely defensive, pissed off and one giant red flag of denial.

"Not following you." She stops on the third step, still facing away from me so I can't see the look in her eyes.

"Sending Judge over to my girlfriend's house where he shot someone? Hooking up with him? A married man? Supporting his criminal activities? Participating in them?"

She spins around to face me, her eyes wide with fury.

"Now wait just a minute."

I don't let her continue.

"How did you find me?" I take a step closer to her. "How do you always seem to figure out where I am?" Another step and I'm right next to her, towering over her. She takes a tentative step back, putting distance between us. "What are you doing, Ma?"

Her eyes soften at the name, but only a little. It's what I used to call her when I was a kid. When I still believed in her. When she did a better job pretending to care, even though now I realize she was only looking out for herself.

"He said we'd have a better life. I could get a place that wasn't on wheels. He'd spend more time with me. I was tired of being alone."

"Newsflash, you still are."

Her eyes narrow. "I know that. I got eyes. I see what he's like. But a woman can only be by herself so long."

"Alone is better than jail. I'm afraid he's headed there." I see the fear shutter through her gaze. She looks away, over to the garden Savannah spends her free time fussing over.

"Wasn't supposed to go that way. It was a simple job."

"Whatever he's doing is deep. There's nothing simple about it."

"He's a long hauler. I'm a pit stop. Or, more like a drop off spot."

"Fuck. He used you for storage, didn't he? Crossed the border, picked up whatever shit he smuggles, then dropped it with you. What is it? Drugs?"

She shrugs. "Never asked. He'd put a box in the carport. Or a file on my desk. Or an envelope in my jewelry box. I don't ask no questions."

The list of curses running through my head is long. I take a deep breath and try to exhale the disaster she just spilled. Doesn't work.

"I invested in his business. That's where your dad's money went. I thought I'd double it. Triple it. That's what Jay said."

"Let me guess. You never saw a dime."

"Oh, I'd see it. His fancy cab that he practically lives in. His restored Harley." Mom finally turns to look me in the eye. "Lots of gadgets, too. He has all kinds of technology I don't really understand."

"Like what?" Maybe she'll tell me. Give me some kind of hint at where to look, or what to look for.
I watch as Mom's eyes close tightly. The tension in her body is visible. Every muscle is knotted with frustration and disappointment. The question is who she's disappointed in. Me or Judge?

"It's how I knew you were here. He gave me a little dohicky to hide in your truck. Last time you drove home, I finagled it under a seat. He put some kind of app on my phone so I could always see where you were at."

Fuck. Fuck.

Panic shoots through my entire body. If he gave that to her so she could track me, has he done the same thing to Holly? I shove past my mom and rush down the rest of the steps. I never pulled my keys out of my pocket when I got here so I'm able to unlock the truck quickly and dive under the driver's seat looking for something, anything that could have been used to track me.

It takes ten minutes of shoving my hand under seats and between cords and tubing before I grab something that doesn't seem to fit in with everything else. It's small and round, cold to the touch so I'm guessing metal. I pull it all the way out and take a look.

A fucking Apple Tag. I look up at my mom who's now standing at the bottom of the stairs with a weary look.

"This?" I hold it up to show her.

She sighs deeply before shrugging a nod in my direction.

"Yeah."

I feel violated. Which is a stupid fucking way to feel about a piece of metal, but it's like I had a ghost with me everywhere I've been for the last week and had no idea. But, maybe it'll help figure out where Judge is. Turn the tables on him.
I need to talk to Brax. To call Frank. I can't stand here anymore and do nothing. I look up at Mom with one final warning.

"Don't go anywhere. If you don't want to spend the next twenty years in prison for being his accomplice, you better stick around and help me the fuck out."

"Will that get me a glass of freaking water and a seat in your place?"

Fuck me. I don't have the patience for her. Not today. Not anymore.

"Sure. Knock yourself out. The door's unlocked." I'm done. I turn away from her yet again and rush to Brax's door.

This ends here and now.

I guess I write romantic suspense...I hadn't thought of it that way before but Holly was just basically kidnapped by gunpoint and Jackson's had a tracker planted in his truck. And I knew some of this stuff would be happening but the Apple Tag plot came from a Tik Tok I saw this week that confirmed an idea I was having AND I WAS SO EXCITED!

Next week we jump back with Holly, and I'm thinking it will be a broken POV chapter that hops back and forth between the two in an overlapping timeline. We'll see...

This song has Holly's mindset. Who knows if it will come to fruition though 😏 "he did it"

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COMING FEBRUARY 1st IS THE MONSTROUS LOVE ANTHOLOGY! 35 stories by Wattpad Creators. All spice levels (Mine is 1 🌶️ but some are super spicy!) My story, Beyond The Fog, is a Charmer spin-off  (a backstory for Marget and Grimhold - see aesthetic below). I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!

Aesthetic from Charmer with the same vibes as BTF