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Disclaimer: The pretender and the song used in this, belong to their respectful owners. No money is being made from this. The song is called “Whiskey Lullaby” by Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss. If you haven’t heard the song, I have it up on my website at www.leochick.neptune.com. If you have heard this song, then you know this isn’t going to be a happy go lucky story, so be prepared.

Whiskey Lullaby




She put him out, like the burnin’ end of a midnight cigarette

“Jarod, help me,” she whispered hoarsely into the phone.

Jarod held the phone to his ear for dear life, fear taking over his body. “Miss Parker, what’s wrong!” There was a pause on the other line. Jarod held his breath as he waited for her answer. He could still here her breathing on the other line, if you want to call it that.

“I...when I came home from work tonight I interrupted a couple of men robbing my place. There were three of them...” Jarod could here the anguish in her voice and muffled cries. “I wasn’t fast enough to react. Before I knew it, one was behind me and took my gun from the holster. They...they beat me up pretty bad Jarod. My sides hurt, I think they broke my arm.” There was a pause; he could hear her taking a deep breath. What she was about to say wasn’t easy for her. “Please, please help me,” she said softly, almost sounding too ashamed to be asking for his help.

Jarod was already out the door, pulling his keys out of his jean pocket. “Listen, I’m on my way. Please, call the police,” he pleaded.

“Jarod, I can’t do that. The Centre doesn’t like outsiders asking questions.”

He shook his head, letting out a sigh. “All right, I’ll be there shortly. Just hold on.” Throwing the cell phone on the passenger seat, he turned on the ignition and drove to her house.

When he walked up to the backdoor the only light that flickered in the house was the fireplace. For some reason, that felt odd to him. He could already feel the foreboding wrapping itself around him. ‘Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,’ he thought to himself, but then he heard her. Without even giving it a second thought, he opened the door and walked into her house.

He was by her side in an instant. He found her curled up on the couch, with a blanket wrapped around her. He couldn’t see her face, since her back was facing him, but he could hear her. The muffled cries pierced his heart. He never liked seeing her in pain. They’ve both been through so much, yet the pain over the years was one of the many things that bound them together. Kneeling down beside her he said gently, “Miss Parker, it’s me Jarod.”

She didn’t turn around to face him. “Jarod, you shouldn’t have come,” she croaked out.

Jarod smiled weakly at her. “Don’t worry, I took all the necessary precautions. Now, turn around so I can see the damage.” Of course, she didn’t oblige. “Miss Parker, please you’ve asked for my help, for once, let me help you.”

When she finally turned on her side, he was surprised by what he saw. Instead of looking all bruised and bloodied, she looked like the picture of health. The only thing that scarred her face was the trail of tears running down her cheeks. She slowly sat up, keeping the blanket around her legs. Jarod could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing. Something wasn’t right. “Miss Parker, I thought...”

Miss Parker gave him a sad look. “Jarod, like I said, you shouldn’t have come. Haven’t you realized by now, you can’t save me. It’s too late for me, you should save yourself,” she stated sadly.

Jarod slowly stood back up, giving her a disbelieving look. He looked around the living room, finally noticing the condition. Everything seemed to be in immaculate condition, nothing seemed out of place, yet something was. It then dawned him. It was a trap. “No! How could you? I thought...I thought....” He stumbled out.

“You thought what, Jarod? That she actually cared for you, maybe even loved you,” came Lyle’s voice from behind, sounding delightful as ever.

Jarod spun around the room. He found Lyle standing in front of the doorway, with Sam by his side. By the stairs he saw Willie and another sweeper. Coming out of the kitchen entranceway he saw Mr. Cox with a sweeper standing behind him. There was nowhere for him to run. Jarod backed away from everybody. He still couldn’t believe it. How could she do this to him?

Lyle came walking up to him, triumph radiating from him. “It’s time to come home, lab rat.” Still keeping his eyes on Jarod, he raised his right arm in the air motioning for the sweepers to grab him.

‘This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening,’ Jarod thought fearfully. He watched in horror as the four sweepers made their way towards him. “No! No!” He looked at Miss Parker, begging her to help him with his eyes, but instead she looked away.

Jarod fought back as best as he could, but he was no match for the four sweepers. He could taste the metallic flavoring of blood in his mouth. Blood was slowly burning its way down his face due to the cut above his right eye. The betrayal he once felt was now turning into anger. Looking at Miss Parker he commented with disgust, “Like father, like daughter.” He then spat across the room, smiling to himself when his bloody phlegm landed by her feet.

Lyle was grinning like a Cheshire cat as he walked up to Miss Parker, flinging an arm around her shoulders. “I always knew she would be the downfall of you, Jarod,” he stated smugly to him. Letting his gaze fall back on Miss Parker he said, “You know what to do now sis.”

Jarod watched in fascinated horror as Miss Parker dug into her pocket, bringing out a liquid filled syringe. Jarod began to struggle against the sweepers. “No! Please, don’t. No!” He watched helplessly as Miss Parker took off the cap, squeezing the air bubbles out. When she looked at Jarod, he saw something flicker in her eyes. There was so much turmoil and despair. Trying to take advantage he said, “Miss Parker, please I know you don’t want to do this. Please, don’t become them. Be what your mother always wanted you to be...a decent human being.”

“Leave her out of this, Jarod,” she replied evenly. “I’m just doing my job.” With the syringe in her right hand, she glided across the room towards Jarod with Lyle on her heels. Once she was in front of him, she reached out, pulling up his sleeve on his shirt. She took a couple of deep breaths, as if she was trying to get enough courage to go through with it.

Jarod continued to struggle against his captors, becoming fearful of the amber liquid that was in the syringe. “Miss Parker, please don’t do this. Don’t do their dirty work for them. Put an end to it all,” he whispered out, unshed tears burning in his eyes.

A few tears ran down Miss Parker’s eyes as she lifted up her right hand, letting the syringe hover above his arm. “Jarod, stop struggling. I don’t want the needle to break off in your arm.”

Jarod stared at her intently, knowing she was lost to him for good. Hanging his head low in defeat, he ceased his struggling. He waited for the syringe to pierce his arm, but nothing happened.

Lyle took a step closer. “Do it, Parker! Do it now!”

Miss Parker glanced over at Jarod. Bending her head down to Jarod’s ear she whispered, “I’m sorry.” He winced as the needle pricked his skin. It didn’t take long for the drug to take its effect. His last memory before he passed out was Miss Parker. He watched as she backed away from him, disbelieve etched across her face. When she backed up against the wall, she slid down, covering her face with her hands saying, “What have I done, what have I done.”

She broke his heart, he spent his whole life tryin’ to forget

It’s been almost eleven months since he escaped from the Centre. Almost a year had passed since the last time he’s heard or saw Miss Parker. Once he escaped, he never wanted to have anything to do with the Centre again. No more little gifts. No more late night calls to Sydney or her. Nothing.

He tried to throw himself back into his pretends, but he just didn’t care anymore. He then tried to search for his family, but that also fell to the side. He just didn’t care. When she plunged the needle into his arm, she might as well put a bullet in his head. She killed him that night. She took his heart and crushed it in her hands. His soul was ripped out of his body as she sold him willingly to the devil. How could she abuse that unspoken trust they had with each other? He should be furious with her, but for some reason he couldn’t. As much as he tried, he could never escape her being.

We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind
Until the night


Peeling himself off the floor, Jarod went over to the counter grabbing his new best friend known as Jack Daniels. He took a couple swigs, not even grimacing as the amber liquid burned down his throat. Walking back over to the bed, he plopped back down with his bottle of whiskey. Letting his gaze fall on the bottle he said, “Good ole buddy Jack here would never let me down. You wouldn’t backstab a friend to get what you want, would you?” Jarod brought the bottle up to his lips, taking another drink as the tears ran down his eyes.

He never thought he would turn to drinking, but it felt good to let the alcohol take away all his pain. To try and take his thoughts away from her, the woman he thought would never hurt him like this. God, it hurt like hell. Everywhere he went, there she was. Laughing at his stupidity for trusting her. Why was he such a fool?

He drank and drank, but couldn’t escape the memory of her. “Come on, Jack. You’re not helping me tonight. I’ve already been through one bottle, yet she’s still on my mind,” he commented pleadingly. “Please, help me escape her.” Sobs started racking his body, as he clutched the bottle to his chest. ‘Well, there’s only one way to truly escape her,’ he thought sadly. Getting up, he stumbled into the kitchen looking for a pen and some paper. Once he was done writing, he brought the note, his phone, and a gun to the mattress lying on the floor. Picking up the phone he dialed a number that has been stamped onto his mind since he could remember.

He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away her memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees


“What?” she barked into the phone. Jarod tried to say something, but his mouth couldn’t put a coherent sentence together. “If you’re looking for a cheap thrill, call a 900 number.”

“Miss...Miss Parker,” he mumbled out.

He could hear her gasp on the other end. “Jarod, is that you?”

This was killing Jarod. With the phone tucked in the crook of his neck, he loaded the gun. “Yes, it’s me,” he answered in a low whisper.

“Jarod, you don’t sound right. What’s wrong?”

If he wasn’t mistaken, she sounded worried about him, but he wouldn’t fall for it this time. “How...how could you? After all we’ve been through, how could you?” he asked accusingly.

“Jarod, you don’t understand,” she pleaded with him. “Please, let me help you.”

He laughed maniacally at her feeble offer. “What? Like you did last time. I won’t fall for your little trap again.” He took another gulp full of whiskey. “See, I don’t need you this time, I have my good friend Jack Daniels here with me. With him and his two pals Smith and Wesson, I’ll finally be able to escape the strong hold the Centre has on me.”

“Jarod, you’re talking crazy. Please don’t do anything rash. At least let Sydney help you,” she cried into the phone. “If you only knew the truth.”

Jarod scoffed into the phone. “Truth. A word you can’t possibly fathom. Save your lies for another time. I must say though, bravo on your performance that night. You should look into acting, I know you would give the actresses in Hollywood a run for their money.” He paused, clicking the safety off the gun. “Tell Sydney goodbye for me. You should be able to trace this call. The line will remain open.”

“Jarod, Jarod! Answer me, damn it. Answer me,” she yelled into the phone. Putting the phone back down on the bed, Jarod brought the gun up to his head and closed his eyes. Before pulling the trigger he said sadly, “I still love you.” Taking another gulp of whiskey, he pulled the trigger.

We found him with his face down in the pillow
With a note that said I’ll love her till I die
And when we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby


It didn’t take long for Broots to pinpoint the location of Jarod’s latest lair. His latest residence was in an abandoned warehouse district in Birmingham, Alabama. Sam, Miss Parker, Sydney, and Broots searched frantically through the building. Finally, Broots found him.

When Miss Parker reached the room, she found Broots running out with his hand covering his mouth. Seconds later, Sydney and Sam walked out; both had pale, ashen looks on their faces. Miss Parker was about to walk past them, when Sydney stepped in front of her. “Miss Parker, please don’t go in there. Jarod is dead.”

Miss Parker shoved his hands off of her. “Sydney, I’m a big girl. It’s not like I’ve never seen a dead body before.” Before Sydney could say anything else, she stormed in.

She was taken aback by what was before her eyes. Jarod’s lifeless form was lying on an old ratty mattress. His blood was painted on the walls, as a gun was still clutched in his hand. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she slowly made her way over.

Now, she understood why Broots ran out like he did. Covering her mouth and nose with her hand, she bent down to push an errant hair away from his eyes. This was her fault. That she knew, but why did he have to take his life? Was it some sick retribution aimed at her? Unfortunately, she would never know. Reaching down, she grabbed the gun from his hand. When she did this, she found a piece of paper lying underneath him. Grabbing the blood-splattered paper she read it.

Miss Parker let the paper fall to the floor as she looked toward the heavens, closing her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. The pain, grief, and guilt were consuming her body. Letting her head fall back down, she hurried past the three men, trying to get away from the death that surrounded her.

Sydney walked over to where Miss Parker once stood. Bending down, he read the piece of paper. Broots came walking up behind him. “What does it say, Syd?”

“It says, ‘I’ll always love you, Maddie.’” Putting the piece of paper in his pocket, Sydney pulled out his cell phone. Once arrangements were made, he walked back out of the room along with Broots and Sam and headed back down the stairs, looking for a colleague that needed his help more than ever.

To Be Continued....









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