{CHAPTER NINETEEN}

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Jackson lay sprawled on the ground, the aftermath of Victor's brutal blows rushing through him, his hand outstretched, blood seeping, tears tracing lines on his face under the unforgiving glare of the boxing ring's central light, the pulse of Victor's words rolled in his head, transporting him back to the fateful day his parents met their tragic demise.

As a mere 5-year-toddler, Jackson reveled in the warmth and affection of his parents. The memory of his father, deeply engrossed in a tense phone conversation, pacing his study while uttering, "How could you do this to me!" remains vivid in his mind. Amid the charged atmosphere, his mother arrived with a calming cup of tea for his dad, with the door slightly ajar. Her timely intervention allowed Jackson to catch those impactful words. Swiftly, she whisked him away, shielding him from the turmoil and leading him to the safety of his room.

The tender moment when she gently placed him on his bed was interrupted by urgent knocks resounding heavily at the door. Rushing to investigate, she pressed a quick kiss on his cheek before departing, leaving Jackson in aloneness within the room.

In an instant, the piercing sound of two gunshots cracked the air, jolting him from his bed to dash to the living room, his senses heightened by the jarring sound.

He stood frozen, heart pounding in his chest, taking in the harrowing scene unfolding before him. His parents lay motionless on the floor, blood seeping into the tiled surface. His father, already passed away from the gunshot, while his mother, visibly in pain, reached out a trembling hand towards him, the other clasping her wounded abdomen. Through tear-filled eyes, she whimpered, "My son," before her gaze softened, slipping away, leaving him in a world forever changed.

As he gazed upon the heartbreaking sight, tears streamed down his face. A child, confronted with the stark reality of death at such a young age, sat nestled between his parents, gripping their hands tightly. His sobs were filled with sorrow, visible with a voice that revealed his tender age.

Out of the blue, a loud slam on the door grabbed his attention, revealing dreadful figures dressed in dark attire and masks. He was swallowed by a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of how to navigate the scene before him as he was just a little kid at that moment.

Following the departure of the dreadful figures, a subsequent soft knock resounded at the door, revealing the arrival of his uncle. With no answer forthcoming, his uncle entered and discovered Jackson, nestled in slumber amid his deceased parents.

Upon witnessing the scene in front of him, his face mirrored shock. Tenderly, he carried Jackson away from the heart-wrenching scene.

Jerked back to reality by the painful memory, a tear flowed down his face as he gulped hard, leaving him in that moment of solitude.

Struggling to rise from the floor, he staggered towards the ring ropes, grasping onto them tightly. His body and hair swayed with his movements, shaking the ropes in a mix of fury and agony. His voice stretched through the room as he yelled out, his veins pulsing with emotion. For Jackson, one heartfelt wish lingered—to hear his mother's last words, she said before she passed, 'my son.'

Sinking to his knees, his grip on the ring ropes relentless, head bowed in a fragile stance as he fought to rein in his tears. With clenched teeth, he uttered, "You'll regret this deeply." In an instant, his eyes snapped open, wide with intensity, jaw tight, fingers locked in a vice-like grip on the rope.

In a moment of thought, Jackson remained his mind adrift in a sea of sadness.

In a swift motion, he stood up, snatched his phone from his pocket, and headed towards the door. Dialing a number, he pressed the phone to his ear, the ring reverberating through the line. As Jackson grasped the key from the hook and ventured outside, struggling to turn the key in the lock, a voice responded on the other end of the phone, initiating a conversation.

"I was so foolish to have doubted my uncle. I've made up my mind, It's either my uncle or nobody," he declared resolutely.

In response, a heavy sigh of satisfaction ventured from the caller on the other end of the line. "I'm glad. And you made the right choice," Victor confirmed, his voice filled with contentment.

"I'll give you a call shortly. Just messaged her for a date, gotta freshen up," Jackson mentioned once he secured the door, heading towards the deserted street.

"Sure thing, I'll leave you to it. And hey, remember to always keep your uncle in the loop from now on, okay? Catch up later, bye."

After a quick ear scratch, Jackson replied to Victor with a casual "Yeah, I will. Bye," before ending the call. Pocketing his phone, a sense of determination filled his heavy breath while he strolled through the street.

The instant Jackson's message lit up on my phone, mentioning a spur-of-the-moment date, sheer delight washed over me. I had been yearning for his company and was eager to reunite. However, the real twist came when his text hinted at a karaoke date.

Resisting the urge to ring up Lisa for dress advice for the karaoke date was a battle; she was the ultimate diva, and I... well, let's not dwell on that. Oh, and did I mention 'my singing?' My voice could make a horse sound like a choir angel. And persuading him to change plans after that text? Mission impossible.

I snatched my go-to dress, a patterned floral one, and the wedge Lisa and I got as a pair of twin friendship shoes; I certainly couldn't forget the red lipstick and Lisa's words that accompanied it, 'A red lipstick always does the trick.' I wasn't keen on her mysterious chatter about red lipstick rituals, but this time felt different; Jackson was now my boyfriend. Lisa's advice might just stick around for a bit, I pondered as I hailed a taxi, all set for this karaoke night; I suppose.

I politely requested, "Broad Hill Street, please," to the driver, a glance at my phone to confirm the street name before gracefully entering the taxi.

Upon entering the cab, a subtle hint of alcohol wafted my way, momentarily unsettling me. I instinctively reached for the back of the driver's seat to regain my balance. Despite signs of a lively night prior, the driver exuded a composed demeanor as if the revelry was a distant memory.

I scrunched my face in annoyance, pinching my nose shut with my finger to ward off the unpleasant smell. "Why's it reeking in here?" I mumbled through the blockade, slightly muffled due to my firm hold. "Have you been drinking?"

The driver shot me a glance from the rearview mirror after catching sight of the situation. He wore an innocent expression that seemed to say, 'I thought I sprayed a ton of air freshener.' Even though he didn't voice it, I could tell from his expression, and despite the hint of alcohol in the air, a faint whiff of air freshener remained.

"I'm terribly sorry, ma'am. I overslept yesterday, which caused me to forget to rid it of the alcoholic odor. No need to fret; I just need to spray more air freshener," he explained, turning back to grab the air freshener. As I observed his face more closely, I tilted my head slightly, trying to place where I knew him from. "Henry?" I blurted, finally recognizing him.

"Oh, it's you," he responded.

"Me?" I shot back, clearly peeved, jabbing a finger at myself. My expression twisted into a combination of irritation and disdain at his mention of 'you.'

"No... I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way," he rushed to explain, his hand moving as he gestured. His face reflected his swift apology, catching the annoyance on my face.

I closed my eyes in a moment of contemplation, graciously acknowledging his apology.

With a gentle smile, he carefully returned the air freshener to its place in the glove compartment. "We regrettably missed the opportunity for a proper introduction during that entire affair..." he remarked. Sensing the delicate nature of the subject, I discreetly cleared my throat, silently urging him to avoid revisiting the comedic mishap involving his and Lisa's unexpected encounter at her home.

Whenever I recall about that day, a chuckle inevitably escapes me. The memory remains a delightful source of amusement, with his comical act of hopping on one leg while struggling to put on his jeans – the sheer hilarity of it all.

I let out a smile that almost gave away my composed facade. "I'm Hanna, Lisa's friend," I introduced myself.

"Hi, Hanna, nice to meet you again— under these circumstances," he stated, glancing at himself. It seems fate never intended for us to meet under favorable conditions. First, there was that dreadful encounter at Lisa's," he paused, taking a deep breath as if to recall the memory, "And now this."

"It's fine, it happens," though deep down within me, it wasn't fine. All I wanted was to burst out laughing.

Reflecting on it, he was spot on; I never encountered him in a positive light. First, that, and now this. As I pondered, I remembered Lisa and him working in the same place— where their love story began to bloom for each other or to rephrase, 'Lisa's love for him began to bloom.' Lost in my thoughts, I casually asked, "Thought you and Lisa work in the same office?"

"That?... Hmm, I resigned," he responded.

I sensed he wasn't being entirely truthful. The fleeting blink of his eyes he gave before answering revealed it all, but I chose to go along with it. It wasn't my place to pry. "Oh, you did," I emitted.

He started the engine, setting off on the trip.

"Headed to Broad Hill Street, right?" he double-checked the destination.

I nodded, fastening the back seat belt. "So, what's the deal with the taxi gig?" I probed again.

With his hand on the wheel, he spilled, "Uh, my girl left town, and I've been feeling down. So, I figured driving might help clear my head. Driving folks around seemed like a good way to distract myself and stay focused. Plus, with no other work, it felt like the right move."

"I see," I murmured, my lip extending into an 'O' shape, my eyes blinking in comprehension. "Ah, that clarifies the alcohol."

"Yeah, and the ride is on the house. My treat."

"Really? That's so kind of you."

"It's no biggie. Just felt like giving folks a free ride to where they need to go."

He radiated goodness, channeling his longing for his girlfriend into selfless acts like offering free rides, a gesture that truly touched my heart. He embodied the ideal man, the kind that captures every girl's imagination. Was this the allure Lisa saw in him, drawing her back despite his cheating? On the topic of his cheating, I felt an intense urge to confront him about the situation with Lisa, questioning his avoidance of her calls and lack of apology. The impulse to address it was strong, but then I pondered, 'Perhaps it's wiser to let things lie.' Bringing up the past seemed unnecessary; our conversation concluded, allowing him to focus on the road ahead.

The atmosphere soon fell into complete silence as the drive turned quiet, prompting me to reach for my phone to send a quick message to Jackson about my impending arrival.

Henry, noticing the silence, sought to break it, "Tell me, where is the lovely Hanna off to, looking so elegant?" He inquired with a smile.

I couldn't help but giggle, a faint blush tinting my cheeks as I responded, "Just out on a date with my boyfriend."

"Oh, your boyfriend, I see. That explains the blush on your face... Mind if I ask?" he inquired, giving me a sideways glance.

"Sure."

"This your, uh, hmm... boyfriend? I guess you two just started kicking it off as couples?" he questioned. Catching a glimpse of my 'what sort of question was that' expression, he quickly added, "Silly me... it's fine if you don't feel comfortable answering such stupid questions."

"It's all good." I mustered a strained grin, not quite at ease with the question, though it didn't seem like a huge deal to address it. "Yep, we're just starting as dating couples," I responded, pushing back my hair tousled by the wind from the open car window.

"Why the question though?"

"Your smile; it's that of a girl smitten, you know, those butterflies fluttering around when you're starting something new."

I chuckled, "Was it that obvious?" I nibbled on my lip.

"Yeah, It was pretty obvious. But hey, if you're cool with it, there's something I need to let you in on. I know we're not exactly best buds, and there's that whole messy situation with your friend. Still, I can tell you're a stand-up person, and I'd hate to see you go down a road you'll regret. So, it's only fair that I give you a heads-up on this..."