It was early morning a few days after Steve had broached the idea of breaking and entering into Lawrence's estate. Steve had called him up late the night before and told him that this was the day for action. Steve had waited to the last minute because he didn't want Jack to worry or overthink what they were about to do.
Jack and Steve sat in the borrowed car about a block away from Alamain's house. They were waiting for him to leave for the day so they could go inside his house to look for evidence. It had been Steve's idea and Jack trusted him and knew that he could rely on his older brother. In the meantime, they just had to stay unobtrusive and patient.
They had remained silent for a while, nursing their thermoses of hot coffee. After about ten minutes of silence and Jack's internal debate about raising this topic, Jack plunged ahead, "Steve, thanks really for all your help with Alamain. You could've kept your distance and I wouldn't blame you—because of the past, because of the boat explosion. You had a lot of reasons to back away and I'm really grateful that you didn't."
"Jack, we're pretty sure that Alamain caused that boat explosion. Who knows what additional damage he will do if we don't stop him. I've resented guys like Alamain for years. I can't let him get away with everything he's done here in Salem and to the people I care about. It's not just for you, but also for Bo who was the intended target of that boat explosion, Kayla who was almost widowed that day, and Jennifer who's been hurt most of all."
"Okay, I've needed you here with me, battling against Alamain. You've kept me focused and grounded. I know that I'm not going too far in my revenge against him as long as you are acting beside me. Ever since I found out about what he did to Jennifer, I could feel myself sliding backwards, back towards the darkness and all the evil, vile things I would like to do to him. You know me, you know what I've done and I've been teetering on a knife edge. I've been scared. And I know this is an awful time to be honest about this stuff because I've been not telling you and not telling Jennifer about this for weeks. You wouldn't believe the ways I wanted to torture Lawrence."
"Jack, we've all had those thoughts, we've all had those ideas stuck in our head."
"Yes, but I am capable. I know I am capable and I feel sometimes I'm getting sucked back in."
Steve cringed; Jack needed to stay focused on the job, not the past, not the dead and buried ghosts. "Look, I knew Harper. I knew Duke. You're not like either one of them. Not now. Not even then to be totally honest. Stop trying to talk yourself into something that you're not. Jennifer needs you in the moment. I definitely need you right now here…in this moment. The past is dead. Get over yourself."
At that moment, they spied Lawrence's limousine exiting the driveway. Steve could make out Lawrence's profile in the back seat and knew it was time to move. "Jack we can't talk about this now. Look, you were a jerk. You were a cruel, sadistic ass and I hated your guts. You're not one anymore. Stay that way. Simple as that. Stop overthinking it. But right now, we've got a job to do."
Steve debated his options and thought it would be less risky given Jack's current mental state to just have him sit in the car and act as the getaway driver. He knew going into Lawrence's house was not good for Jack at the moment and he could blow the entire agenda. Steve had done these break-ins too many times and knew that having a straight level-headed partner mattered the most. He was worried about Jack and decided on a change in the game plan.
"New plan," Steve said as he eased their car close to the back entrance. "I'm going in alone. You stay out here and act as lookout. Slide over into the driver's seat and be ready to drive off."
Jack grimaced. Steve was looking at him the same way as when they were on the island and Jack's gun accidentally fired off a few rounds. He felt like he'd always be the baby brother. Jack nodded and picked up the two-way radio. This wasn't a good time to pout. Of course, ten minutes ago wasn't a good time to start baring his soul and all his self-doubts either.
"Great," Steve replied. "You stay here. I'm counting on you, Billy Jack."
Jack sat outside, huddled down in the car, watching the minutes click by. He supposed Steve was right to leave Jack in the car; he definitely did not have the stomach for this sort of crime. He knew Lawrence was capable of violence and potentially deadly retaliation. Steve almost died for Lawrence trying to get revenge on Bo. He just wished that Steve would hurry up and Jack regretted putting him in this position in the first place. Jack kept looking around, worried that any second Lawrence would come back and Steve would be trapped inside. Steve's voice came over the CB radio, "Jack, Jack, dammit, answer me."
"I'm here," Jack answered in a halting voice.
"Quickly now, what's the date that Lawrence attacked Jennifer?" Steve asked through the radio.
Jack was confused by the question, "What?"
Steve was starting to sound pissed, "The date. Do you know the date? When did he rape Jennifer?"
Jack sputtered out the answer, "The wedding day, November 5th. In his bedroom. Why?"
"Okay, November 5. Have to go. Be out soon. Have the car ready," Steve barked at him through the radio.
Jack started up the car and looked around for Steve, other cars, and the way to get out.
About a minute later, Jack saw Steve come out of the bushes and he tumbled into the car.
"Go. Let's get out of here." Heart racing and sweating, Jack stared at the road ahead and peeked at his brother as much as possible. He knew Steve was good at this sort of caper. Jack knew that getting caught would have had disastrous ramifications.
"Where are we going?" Jack asked as he was driving. Fortunately, by that time, they had cleared the Alamain estate and Jack was feeling much better.
Steve glanced at Jack nearly hyperventilating, "Go to my house. I don't think this type of adventure is your style."
"Y'think?" Jack barked back. "Why were you asking about that date?" Jack asked, not quite so frenetic, but still very serious.
"It looks like Lawrence records everything. I had to take the tapes out of the machines being recorded while I was there or we would have been documented as being all over the grounds." Steve held up his black bag. I have tapes from today so there's no evidence of us being there and tapes from November 5th at his villa."
Jack nearly swerved into oncoming traffic. He managed to steer the car back, overcorrected, but finally got the car back in the proper lane of traffic. He then did a double-take at his brother, "Don't say another word until we get to your house. But check behind us; make sure no one is following us."
Steve smiled; Jack was skilled in several things and had pulled off the wedding license con without a hitch but wasn't really used to such high-stakes, high-adrenalin adventures. Steve wasn't sure whether it would be better to get him used to it or to have him sit them out from then on, "Nervous much?"
They weren't far; five minutes and they'd be there…back at Steve's house. Jack didn't want to think. Jack didn't want to consider the possibility that there was actually a video…in Steve's bag…that contained the…the rape.
Lawrence wouldn't record in his bedroom, would he? He wouldn't keep such damning evidence, would he?
Jack pulled into the driveway. When he exited the car, he was careful to look around and scan behind them.
When they barreled through the front door, Steve called out, "Kayla!" A moment later, "Kayla?" Still no answer. "Not home. We're good. She was supposed to be out, but you never know."
"Let's go through what you brought."
They separated out the tapes that Steve had carried off—the ones from today and the ones from November 5th. One from that date was clearly marked 'Master Bedroom.'
"Oh God," Jack started feeling light-headed and needed to sit down.
Steve started slowly, "Jack, we need to know if we can use that. We need to know if we have any proof that would help Jennifer at trial. It can be very difficult to prove it was rape without corroborating evidence," Jack looked up at Steve at that moment. Of course Jack knew all about that, but didn't want to think about that now. "If there is anything on these tapes that can help Jennifer if she decides to go to court, then we should know before we tell her."
Jack shook his head, revulsion plain on his face, "I can't watch that. I won't!"
Steve took it out of the bag with his gloved hands and put it into his VCR. "Well far better you than me. You are her boyfriend; you've been intimate. I have zero right at all to watch something like that. It must be you." Jack still shook his head, horrified at the idea, so Steve added, "You don't have to watch the whole thing—just enough to know if it would help."
"Steve, I love her. Do you know how hard it was to hear what he did?" Jack wanted to bite those words back. Of course Steve knew.
"If Jennifer can get a conviction based on that tape and not even go to court, wouldn't that be good for her? Wouldn't that be good for both of you?"
"And what? I'm going to take it to the police station where 50 cops are going to watch it? You think that would help Jennifer?"
Steve shook his head, "That would never happen. Roman and I would never let that happen, Jack, I swear." Steve started for the dining room and then paused, "Don't touch the videotape without gloves. We need that as evidence, and don't want our fingerprints on it—don't want to give Alamain's lawyers any excuses to toss it out. Okay?"
Jack nodded, already feeling sick and he hadn't even pressed 'play' yet. With that, Steve was gone and Jack was alone in their living room—just him and an awful task before him.
He picked up the remote, realized it was the wrong remote and then picked up another remote control and pressed play, his fingers shaking. Jack immediately recognized Lawrence's bedroom and the video camera had been well placed at a good vantage point to see everything. Jack's nausea only grew. In the middle of the frame at the back of the room was Lawrence's bed. His dread mounted knowing that he could see everything if the rape had been captured on this videotape. The bedroom was empty and he could see a wall clock at an oblique angle. It showed 3:25. It was too early. He pushed fast forward and saw nothing happen instead of the wall clock accelerating through time.
He pushed stop when he saw on the videotape that Jennifer had entered the room. She was wearing the wedding dress and the emerald necklace at her throat. She looked as beautiful as she had on that day and they shared their personal wedding vows.
Jack pushed play and buried his face in his hands, shielding his eyes behind his fingertips. He could listen—up to a point, but he couldn't watch. He could never watch such a thing being done. After a few minutes, he heard Lawrence's voice, he heard Jennifer offering him champagne. Jack knew she was stalling Lawrence; she was expecting him to appear at any moment like he'd promised he remembered guiltily. Jack starting sinking into a morass of shame and dread as he heard them kissing. He could hear Jennifer squirming and struggling and a minute later he could hear her screaming. Jack was frozen. He wanted to push stop on the machine; he had heard more than enough to satisfy the police, more than he ever wanted to hear. But he was paralyzed to his core. All he could hear was the screaming—the soul-breaking screams of his beloved.
The next thing he heard was not a scream, but a shocked "What the hell?" It wasn't coming from the videotape; it was Kayla's voice and it came from the room—behind him. He turned around and saw Kayla and Jennifer standing behind, mouths agape and their arms filled with birthday party supplies. Jennifer dropped those bags to the floor. While the tape was playing, Jack hadn't been able to hear Kayla's key turning in the lock or hear them come in. Thank God that Stephanie wasn't with them.
Jack quickly ran to the machine and pushed stop, not trusting the VCR remote to act properly in that moment.
"What the hell is that? What the hell kind of perversion did you bring into my home?" Kayla demanded still stunned. She didn't know the content. Kayla didn't realize that was Lawrence and Jennifer.
Jack was still speechless, unable to explain. Jennifer was speechless too; Jennifer knew what that video was and recognized the scene immediately. She couldn't process the concept of seeing her worst nightmare, her worst memory was playing out on the television. Jennifer couldn't understand how Jack had such a tape, why he was watching such a thing. Jennifer was beyond all thought, except feeling violated all over again.
Jack did the only think he knew to do; he called out for his big brother, "Steve!" He waited a few heartbeats, then yelled louder, "STEVE!"
Jack needed Steve to explain—especially to Kayla. He was struggling too much to find the words.
Steve came bounding out, saw the tense stand-off between Kayla and Jack, and saw Jennifer just struggling not to lose her footing.
"Damn," Steve muttered. He should have gone out to the front porch instead of the dining room. He cursed himself at his thoughtlessness.
Jennifer's mind was swimming and it was hard for her to stay standing. The room was swaying. That had been her voice. That had been her…exposed. The worst moment in her life maintained for posterity on a videotape. Lawrence had recorded. Jennifer felt violated and small all over again. She wanted to run home and take a shower. And somehow…somehow…Jack had it? Jack was watching it?
Steve addressed Kayla first, "This was my doing. This was all my doing," he said trying to remove responsibility from Jack.
Kayla wasn't assuaged. "What the hell was that?"
Jack finally found his footing and circled around the sofa to be near to Jennifer. He also found his voice for explanations now that Steve was here to confirm it for Kayla, "It was evidence. We stole it today from Lawrence's house."
Jennifer stuttered out, "He videotaped us? He recorded what…he did…and kept it?"
Kayla turned to Jennifer, now she understood the situation better and what she had walked in on.
Asking her initial question, Jennifer now had a torrent of several more, "Who's seen it? How many copies are out there? Does he watch it…for pleasure?"
Jack winced and shook his head; he had no answers to those questions.
Steve stepped towards Jennifer, he was pretty sure of the answer to this question, but needed it confirmed. "Jack, it'll work…as evidence?"
"I couldn't watch it," Jack admitted, "but from what I heard, yes."
"Jennifer," Steve said gingerly, "I know this may not seem like it at this moment, but trust me, this is a very good thing for you. If you decide to press charges, then it won't be a case of your word against his. You have irrefutable proof that he attacked you. I know it must be awful for you to imagine that the tape is out there and that a judge, the DA, a whole jury may see it, but it makes things a thousand times easier to get justice-if that's what you want to do. His lawyer can't cross-examine you quite so harshly, try to make you out to be a liar or a tease or anything else that rape defendants try as their stock defense. The outcome is far more guaranteed now that Lawrence will go to prison."
Kayla put her arm around Jennifer, "Steve's right. A rape trial can be very tough to go through—I won't sugar coat that to you. But sincerely, I felt a lot better afterwards—that I stood up for myself." Kayla realized the unparalleled awkwardness of saying that with Jack in the room, but Jennifer was her primary concern here. She had been reticent about speaking of Jack with Jennifer, but since they had their talk, the topic didn't seem quite so forbidden. "People wouldn't have been so quick to doubt me back then if I had a videotape like that."
Jack looked up to the ceiling and turned around; his past and present were all colliding in this moment and it was just so damn hard. He felt deeply shamed once more.
Kayla noticed that and addressed him, "Yes, Jack, that's the way it was and I fully intend to be honest with Jennifer. I won't censor myself to spare your feelings."
Jack turned back towards her; if she was okay speaking frankly then he'd give her the same courtesy. "I'd never ask that. I think she needs the benefit of your experience. Jennifer, if you want to press charges, then here is some great evidence to prove your story. Don't give one second worry about me," looking back and forth between Jennifer and Kayla, "either of you, and I promise you have my full and unqualified support. If you decide to press charges and if Lawrence is stupid enough to not plead it out since he was already stupid and arrogant enough to record and keep this videotape, then I will be there everyday of the trial for you."
Kayla asked the necessary question. She knew Jennifer mentioned it the day of their talk, but the possibility of pressing charges seemed far more real now, "Would you like to bring charges against him?"
Jennifer took a step back. She and Kayla had a fun and carefree day shopping for birthday decorations—what could be more innocent than that? Then to suddenly be bombarded with unexpectedly seeing the tape, realizing that the tape existed, and then contemplating the ramifications and potential consequences, it was all just too much. Things were moving too fast
"The court would accept the tape?" Jennifer asked. "Lawrence's lawyers could get it thrown out."
Steve nodded yes, "That's always a possibility. That's why I was careful about not leaving fingerprints on the tape, not leaving any trace of us at the Alamain mansion; if we submit it anonymously to the police—to Roman actually, then we should be safe. There should be no basis for 'fruit of the poisonous tree' by Lawrence's lawyer for getting it thrown out.
Jack broke in, "And if that does happen, then I can release an edited, blurry version of it within the media so that the whole world is convinced of his guilt. Believe me, that is a lot to live with." Jack determinedly avoided looking at Kayla when he said that. He knew he had never spent a day in prison for what he had done and not sure of how Kayla felt about that. And yet here he was now, advocating to send Lawrence to prison.
Steve was reticent about making this suggestion, but he knew he couldn't give the best advice. "Jennifer, I'm learning about the police protocol and all the intricacies of admissible evidence, but I'm still not the best person to advise you. I would recommend Roman—he's been at the police force long enough to know what is acceptable and what isn't—or your Uncle Mickey. Who would you prefer that we call and ask about how to proceed?
Jennifer backed up a few steps. She knew everyone was well-meaning and held her best interests, but they were all staring at her expecting an answer and she felt very conspicuous. She was still reeling from seeing herself on that damnable videotape. Good God, he really is sick!She wanted to make sure that would be his undoing. Lawrence's arrogance, his belief in his own infallibility would destroy him. He did not destroy her, she assured herself. He did not ruin her, but he was about to do that to himself. Steve was right. This was good news that it existed. She knew from being a reporter that juries liked to see bruises, liked to hear that the rapist was a stranger, liked to imagine that some evil man jumped out from the bushes. Those were the rapists that juries liked to convict—not good-looking sophisticated worldly men that the accuser was supposedly married to, especially when there was no physical evidence. However, this was just happening too fast and she wasn't doing well managing expectations. Talking about this with Uncle Mickey would be too stressful—almost as bad as talking about it with her dad. She needed some distance—some emotional distance—to talk about this objectively.
"I'll talk to Roman," she said finally.
Kayla put her hand on Jennifer's arm, "Is it okay for me to call him now?"
Jennifer nodded. Seeing that video, knowing it existed revealed to her the full extent and depth of Lawrence's depravity, his entitlement, and his self-absorption. It lit a fierce fire in her gut. "Here's fine. Now's fine. What about Stephanie?"
Kayla reached up to smooth Jennifer's hair. Jennifer was really a warm and caring person, always thinking of others, "Stephanie's okay. She's with my mom."
Jennifer reached up and gave Kayla's hand a quick squeeze, "I'd like to do this now before I lose my nerve."
"Okay, I'll go call my brother." And Kayla was gone.
Jack was astounded at the new closeness that now existed between Jennifer and Kayla. It was unnerving, but of course, he'd say nothing and just deal with it. If Kayla was able to tolerate him standing up as Best Man at her wedding, then he could damn well not allow himself to be affected by her newfound friendship with Jennifer.
In the interim, Steve retrieved the video cassette and placed it in a large Ziploc bag from the kitchen.
Jack felt terrible that Jennifer had walked in on that scene playing on a TV in Steve's and Kayla's living room—completely unwarned and unprepared. "Jennifer, I'm so sorry about that," he offered up anemically. He reached for her hand and felt her fingers were sweaty and twitchy.
Jennifer was a bundle of nerves and couldn't allow that to be shown. Too much today had been revealed. She shook out of his hand. "It was just bad timing. I can't think about this tape for a moment."
Fifteen minutes later, Roman showed up at the front door and rang the bell. Steve let him in and Roman eyed the group, particularly the presence of Jack warily. They had worked together on the island; Roman knew that Jack was good friends with Isabella, and had been a big hero at Lawrence's villa, but Kayla was his sister and he could never forget what Jack had done.
"Hi Kay, sounded pretty important on the phone," he prompted her when they pulled out of a hug.
"It is. We have-."
Steve stopped her and interrupted. "We have a hypothetical situation that we wanted to run past you to get your opinion. You're far more an expert on evidentiary admissibility than I am right now. Speaking hypothetically, let's say some evidence, like a videotape, with solid indisputable proof of a crime was sent to the police station anonymously—the police had no part in getting it—then would it be admissible in court? Hypothetically?"
Roman's gaze looked at Steve, then Kayla, then Jack, then Jennifer. Now, he really felt thrown by the situation here.
Roman shook his head, "If the defendant's lawyers want to fight the admission of evidence, then it would probably get tossed out. Otherwise the cops could try that with every bit of evidence to circumvent the 'fruit of the poisonous tree' requirement."
Jack spoke up next, "What if, hypothetically, the police search someone else's work or residence on a legally obtained and executed search warrant and find this videotape? Would it be more likely then?"
Again Roman shook his head, "Well, that would be better, but still not guaranteed. The videotape would likely not be covered within the scope of the search warrant and thus still be considered inadmissible."
Jennifer spoke up next, "What if, hypothetically, the person in question is arrested for minor, but unrelated charges, and this videotape happens to be in this person's possession at the time of the arrest?"
Roman changed his stance with that question, "Well, that's a whole other situation entirely. That would most likely be admissible. The accused's lawyer would have a very tough time making an argument then. In this hypothetical situation, the unrelated charges couldn't be frivolous though."
Jack and Steve exchanged knowing glances. They knew they'd hit on the best next step. Jack didn't want Roman included any further at this stage. However, he knew that he couldn't be the one to end the conversation with Kayla's brother in Kayla's and Steve's house. Instead, Jack tilted his head toward Roman while holding Steve's eye contact.
Steve understood Jack's message. He clapped his hands together; the loud noise reverberated through the house and startled Jennifer. "Well, that's great Roman. We really appreciate your time on this. We had some bets going and the debating was getting quite…quite vociferous." Steve walked over to the door and held it open. "Thanks again, really. See you tomorrow?"
Roman was surprised by the change in Steve's tone and his barely concealed request to leave. He figured that whatever the four of them were cooking up that he'd find out about it soon. If the hypothetical situation ever became real, it was preferable that he had been truly in the dark.
After the door closed, Kayla immediately asked, "Why did you do that? We need him on our side."
Steve hated debating her, "Roman is on our side of course, but he can't know anything about the setup. If Alamain's lawyers ever call him on the witness stand about the videotape, he needs to know only and exactly what will keep that tape admissible."
Kayla conceded the point, "So obviously, Jennifer's scenario is the best—that he get arrested, probably for the boat explosion, and the videotape is found on him."
Jennifer interjected at that point, "But how are we going to get the videotape on him? It's not small enough that we can slip it into his suitcoat pocket. I've never seen him carry a briefcase or with any type of shopping bag."
Jack nodded his head; Jennifer was right. "Well, we're just going to have to create a business deal where he needs to carry papers and the deal is sensitive enough that he comes alone without his henchman."
"Julie?" Steve suggested. "She'll play along for us."
Kayla shook her head, "No, she's too obvious. Lawrence would have his guard up the entire time. Besides, should I point out the obvious fact that Lawrence is going to know that you—or someone—was at his place today? He's going to notice that. You're going to have to move fast, if only for your own protection."
Jennifer looked alarmed at that suggestion, "Kayla's right. I have to press charges against him—if only to help make sure that nothing happens to you two." Jennifer held up her hands to silence them, "But don't get me wrong. I'm glad to do it. Glad to press charges, glad to help protect you after all the protecting you've done for me."
Jack bit his lip and felt instantly guilty, "I never thought of it that way, but you're right of course. We just exposed ourselves."
Steve waved it off, "We were already exposed. We couldn't sit around like idiots waiting for his next strike. He knows that we're dangerous adversaries." Steve thought better of using the word 'exposed.' "Jennifer, I'm sorry, this…situation…has…exposed…you more than any one else. It isn't fair."
Jennifer shook her head, "You didn't create this. Lawrence did and Lawrence will pay. He was arrogant enough to make that tape and keep that tape. His arrogance will be his undoing."
Jack piped up with a non-sequitur, "Victor. Arrange a business meeting between Lawrence and Victor."
Steve looked at Jack as though he just threw a pumpkin at his head. "Victor? We can't trust him. I don't care how buddy-buddy you got with him on the island. I don't trust him. I'm not working with him ever."
Jack's mischievous smile grew, "Exactly. Lawrence won't suspect a thing. I don't trust The Mustache either, but I do trust Isabella. She's a good friend to me and she's living with Victor right now. She's come through for us before when Victor kidnapped you," he gestured at Kayla, "She can do this for us now."
Jennifer smiled at that suggestion too, "I trust Isabella too."
Jack turned to his brother, "Steve?" Everyone knew that no one, especially Jack, would move forward on this without Steve's thoughtful consideration and approval.
Steve good-naturedly shrugged, "Looks like we've got a skeleton of a plan. Let's sit down and put some flesh on him."
A little while later, they were sitting on the sofas like they had at the Super Bowl party although this time the talk was much more serious and the stakes a lot greater. Deep into the plans, Jennifer leaned over and whispered in his ear requesting a glass of water. Jack nodded and stood up, leaving Steve and Jennifer in the living room.
He found his way into the kitchen, still feeling awkward of having nearly free reign on the ground floor of Steve's and Kayla's home. When he entered the kitchen, he spotted Kayla making some sandwiches; he counted four in total. Kayla made a sandwich for him. Kayla should never have to make a sandwich for him. He held his breath. Kayla hadn't been sitting, of course, in the living room; she had unobtrusively made her way up and out of the living room about ten minutes earlier. Jack looked back at the living room and wondered if this was Jennifer's motive—to put the two of them in a room alone together so they could have a chance to talk about the ghosts from the past.
Jack cleared his throat to call Kayla's attention. When Kayla turned around, he saw a brief second of recognition and then a polite mask fell over her face. He had seen that polite mask too many times in Washington; the look registered immediately with him.
Jack was fumbling for words; too much had been said about that night between Jack and Jennifer, Jennifer and Kayla, Jack and Steve, and on one extraordinary visit to Jack's office, Kayla to Jack. No conversation, no substantive dialogue had occurred between them—the two principals. So much remained unsaid or only communicated third-hand through Steve or Jennifer. "Umm, Jennifer asked me to fetch her a glass of water."
"Of course," came Kayla's immediate reply. Polite mask firmly in place; it served to discourage Jack from bringing up anything personal between them. Her hands messy with her current kitchen task, she pointed at the cupboard containing the glasses. Jack did as he was beckoned and grabbed a glass from the cupboard and then ran it under the tap.
Jack could not sustain the status quo, he plunged forward and said to Kayla, "Jennifer told me that you two talked. She didn't say much about what was said, but I wanted to thank you. I know it really helped her…and helped us."
Kayla took a long moment to carefully choose her words, "Jennifer is a wonderful woman. Anyone would be lucky to have her."
"Thanks," came Jack's anemic reply.
Kayla turned back to her task slicing tomatoes on the cutting board. She could feel Jack's continued presence in the doorway, still hovering. She could sense him internally debating. Steve did that too; she realized with a shudder that she could sense Jack, read Jack to a certain extent because of his similarities to his brother.
She kept her back to him, but relented. She would offer him an opening, "What's on your mind Jack?"
"It's not important," Jack sputtered.
"Just say it." Kayla was losing her patience. This wasn't a game to her.
Jack quickly exhaled; he didn't know when he'd breathe again. He took a step sideways so that he could lean against the door jamb. "Do you wish I'd gone to prison?" He held his breath waiting for her answer.
Kayla shut her eyes tight; she slowly, consciously placed the knife down on the cutting board. That was not a question she anticipated, but it made sense given all the talk earlier that day about the trial and about trying to send Lawrence to prison. She turned around to face him. The polite mask was gone. Standing before him was honest Kayla—real Kayla—nothing was hidden. "Yes. At the time, especially with all the stunts you were pulling against Steve and me. It made me fearful of how it all would end. But I made my choice with your plea deal. You offered. I accepted. I'm fine with it. I knew that if you ever did anything like that again that you'd go to prison for sure—but you haven't and I'm sure now that you never will. You reformed yourself. You didn't need prison to reform you. I'm okay with how things worked out."
Jack felt lightheaded. He knew her answer would be difficult to listen to. He had always felt like, with that trial, he had played a game of Russian roulette and when the gun fired, he was lucky that there was no bullet and he escaped prison. The truth was she had said pretty much what he expected her to say and it didn't make things more real or easier to absolve or accept. He just regretted asking the question at all. He swore to himself that he would never ask her anything about it ever again.
Kayla wasn't quite finished. "If you have any other questions or anything you need to say, then say it now please and never again after this moment. I'd like to close discussion with you on that chapter for good."
Jack shook his head. He sucked in his breath and then slowly got the words out, "Just that I'm sorry. I'm profoundly sorry. I'd give anything in this life to change what I did—who I was."
Kayla felt torn how to react. She just wanted the reminders to end. "It's over, though. Right?"
Jack nodded.
Kayla indicated the plate of prepared food. "I'm done here. Are you done?"
Incapable of speech, Jack nodded again.
Kayla spoke instead, working hard to maintain her voice even, "Then let's go rejoin Steve and Jennifer and see where we're at with the plan."