𝘿𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮-𝙊 💔

Chapter 6

In the middle of the night, you drove recklessly around Cape Cod in your mother's Cadillac, inspecting each and every police station until you found the right one that contained Jack. It was smaller compared to all the other stations you had seen, and it had fewer officers as well. There were only about three officers in charge, with three holding cells and a managerial office concealed in a corner. Jack was the only one in a holding cell - actually, he was the only civilian in the police station. The place was practically deserted.

Fuming with rage, you stomped your way towards him. He was sitting on a wooden bench with his head bowed down in solemn silence. Upon catching sight of you, his face lit up with hope, and he leapt forward and pressed his face up against the cell's bars.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed. "Oh, Y/N, thank God you're here. Listen, darling, you gotta bail me out. My parents don't know nothing about this, and I wanna keep it that way, so be a pal and bail me out, will you? I promise I'll be a saint-"

You swung your fist through the bars in an attempt to punch his jaw, but you weren't able to connect. He staggered backward, surprised by your thirst for violence. You were so infuriated, you swung at him again, but one of the police officers promptly held you back.

"Alright, ma'am, that's enough," he said firmly. "You are not allowed to make any form of physical contact with the inmate until he is released, understand?"

"You sonuvabitch," you spat, glaring at Jack. "You good-for-nothing scum, I can't believe you! Getting drunk on booze, sleeping around with hookers while you've got a pregnant girlfriend at home...that's it, I'm raising the damn kid myself!"

"Alright, alright, now wait a second!" Jack barked, waving his finger at you. "I never fucked with any hookers! Those girls in my car, I had no idea they were even there! I swear, I'm telling the truth, I was too drunk to even realize they were with me, it was crazy!"

You folded your arms indignantly. "I don't believe you."

"Well, you should." He looked at you in that wide-eyed manner of his. "I'm the father of your child, now c'mon, do the right thing and bail me out before this whole thing spins out of control."

You shook your head in disgust. "You're sick."

"Godammit, Y/N, just bail me out, will you!?" he yelled. "Are you really gonna leave me here in this shithole?? Some girlfriend you are."

"I'm breaking up with you," you declared.

"You're crazy, you don't know what you're saying," he scorned.

"I'm raising the kid myself."

"Yeah, good luck with that."

"I never want to see you again."

"Aw, now don't say that," he whined mockingly.

"You're even worse than a fucking sewer rat," you spat, storming your way out of the police station. "I sure find it hard to believe you're a Kennedy."

You drove back home in a flurry of tears. You tuned in to an FM radio station and turned the volume all the way up, hoping that your sorrows would be drowned in the upbeat tempo of jazz standards. You didn't care if it would make your ears go deaf. You didn't care about anything at this point. You just wanted to disappear.

But how does one disappear? you thought sadly. It's impossible.

Upon reaching home, you parked your mother's Cadillac in the garage before hurrying upstairs to your bedroom. You were just about to make it to the top of the steps when your mother suddenly appeared from the family bathroom.

"Y/N," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "It's 2 in the morning, why were you messing around with my car? I could hear the engine, you were causing a great deal of ruckus in the garage!"