by Rosie Miller
“They have lots of security camera footage. The police are investigating. They’ll find who it was. But my samples … all of them—gone!” She started wailing again and Colin pulled her back in for another hug. He’d be loving every minute of it—every cloud had a silver lining for Colin.
Ellie sobbed into his chest while Colin soothed her.
Justine wondered if she should she at least call Jackson and tell him what had happened. But she couldn’t—not while Colin and Ellie were here. As far as they knew, Jackson wasn’t even aware any samples had been sent off. And she had a very strong feeling that he might know all about this fire already. She just hoped he wasn’t stupid enough to get caught for it.
She googled a local news site and found a report on the fire. She clicked on the video. It was small building, all on its own behind a high fence. And it was burning brightly. Fire crews were in attendance, but it was clear that almost nothing would be left. Whoever had started the fire had done a thorough job.
She added ‘arsonist’ to the list of Jackson’s potential flaws. She was so much better off without him. She just wished her brain could convince the rest of her body that was the case.
She thought about him too much. She was always wondering what he was doing and if he missed her. She hoped it was him every time her phone rang. She looked behind her on the sidewalks, thinking he might be there. At night, she imagined his arms around her, his lips kissing her, his body on hers. She even dreamed about him. But she would get over him—she had to. She had no other choice. And he was a crazy man—dangerous—and this just proved it.
She needed to get out—away from Colin’s surreptitious groping of Ellie—and away from thoughts of Jackson and the crimes he may have committed. “I’m going to the health-food store. I’ll get something calming for us all.”
By watching and listening to the others, she was perfecting her list of ‘office-approved’ excuses for slipping out for a quick coffee. Sometimes she said she was going for an Indian head massage. It clarified your thinking, apparently. Justine found that half an hour shoe shopping had the same effect.
Colin nodded, approvingly.
She got back three quarters of an hour later, hoping Ellie would have gone and the whole drama would have blown over. But no. There were even more people squeezed into their little side office, all clucking and cooing over the still tearful Ellie. Colin hadn’t released his grip, and now had Ellie sitting on his knee.
Justine reclaimed her chair and handed out some whole-wheat cakes she’d bought, then spritzed the air with geranium scented oil. She couldn’t see how a few drops of scented oil in the air could cure anything from stress to influenza. But perhaps it was the power of communal belief that did it. She watched everyone in the office enthusiastically sniffing in approval. And it did smell nice.
Colin leaned over towards Justine. “Jackson rang while you were out. I told him you’d call him back. He said he was out all day and his cell would be out of range. He wants you to meet him at your apartment at 7 tonight. He’s got your camera.”
Justine felt stunned. Jackson? Tonight? Was he missing her like she was missing him? He could just drop the camera at the office—unless he wanted to see her —alone.
Colin leaned toward her again. “I hope you don’t make a habit of meeting clients at your apartment. He seemed to know where you live.” Colin managed to look disapproving even though Justine suspecting he was at that very minute sneakily rubbing his hard-on against poor Ellie’s ass.
The office gradually emptied out. Even Ellie wandered off in the end, her face red and puffy from crying as her chance of a big scientific breakthrough vanished into thin air.
“We’ll get some more samples,” Colin kept saying.
But Justine knew Jackson wouldn’t give them permission to go there again—and hadn’t he said it was hunting season now too? There wouldn’t be any more samples—not if Jackson could help it.
Jackson. Tonight.
But why? And he’d found her camera. Perhaps he’d scrolled through the pictures on there. Had he liked what he’d seen of her doing the dirty with Alistair? Was this just another booty call? Or had he seen the pictures she’d taken of him while he was sleeping and realised how strong her feelings were for him? Or maybe he hadn’t seen them. Perhaps he just wanted to return her camera to her, and he was only in town this evening. She was overthinking it. He’d just hand her the camera and leave. He wouldn’t come in. He wouldn’t chat. He wouldn’t kiss her. And if he tried, she wouldn’t let him. Not even once. Not even a little bit.
The day dragged after that. She kept flicking on to the local news site but there were no more updates about the fire. She couldn’t settle to her work at all. The thought of seeing Jackson was unsettling—and exciting.
The same questions went round and round in her mind for the rest of the day. Why couldn’t he just come to the office? Why meet at her apartment? Did he want to talk about the fire? But why would he? Did he want to see her alone?
*****
Back at Bethany’s apartment she couldn’t settle either. She couldn’t eat at all. She pushed aside the pasta she’d cooked for them.
Bethany had gobbled hers down and was on her way out. “What is wrong with you? You can barely sit down?” she asked, as Justine pushed her plate away.
“Nothing.”
“Really? Look why don’t you come out with me tonight? It’s an office social. Some of the old work crew will be there. Maybe it’s time you rejoined the real world?”
Justine shook her head. “I can’t. I’ve got to go back to the apartment—just for an hour.”
“You need to pick some things up? Come out after that. Or get your stuff another time.”
Justine couldn’t not tell her. “It’s Jackson. He rang earlier. He wants to meet me there.”
“Oooh—so it’s all back on again, is it?”
“No way. No. He just has to give me something.”
Bethany snorted with laughter. “I’ll bet he does.”
“Not like that. It’s my camera. I left it down at the hunting lodge.” It felt like an age ago but it was only a few weeks. Then she’d been sure that she and Jackson actually had something—something good, something that would last, but it had just fizzled out. And she wasn’t going to re-ignite it. No—she would just take her camera and send him on his way.
“Well, you have a good time. I won’t worry if you don’t come back here tonight.”
Justine laughed. That wasn’t going to happen.
All the same, she changed out of her increasingly dressed-down work clothes into something a little more appealing. She put on a short tight dress and the shoes Bethany had bought for her. This was the first time she’d worn them. She did her hair and put on some make-up. She slicked her most expensive lipstick on, loving the feel of it. She so missed wearing it every day. It had used to feel like part of her, and now … well, when was the last time she’d worn it? Last weekend? Before that?
She checked herself in the mirror. Her hair was smooth and straight, her skin was covered in a dewy light foundation, her eye-shadow was smoky, her mascara was thick and dark, and her lipstick was bright luscious red. She looked good. She looked like the old her. And most importantly of all she looked like a woman who any man would regret having turned down.
Chapter Fourteen
It was raining heavily outside. The streets were dark and wet. Every cab was full. Finally one came by with its light on. She almost threw herself in front of it in her eagerness to make it stop. She jumped in the back and slammed the door.
Damn—she was late already.
She looked at the traffic. It was busy. She was going to be even later. Would Jackson wait? Well, she didn’t care either way. If he left before she got there—it was his loss. She’d already written off her camera. If it wasn’t for the photos on there, she’d forget about it completely.
The cab inched forward. She checked her watch anxiously. She’d be lucky to get th
ere before seven-thirty at this rate. She messaged him— ‘Running late. Be there soon. Wait in foyer.’
Eventually the familiar sight of her building came into view. She threw some money at the driver, not waiting for her change. She leapt out of the cab and into the building. But he was nowhere in sight. The foyer was deserted. Surely he’d not given up and gone home? Disappointment settled on her like a lead weight.
She went up to her apartment anyway. She could check everything was fine and see if there was anything else in her closet that she might need soon.
She unlocked the door and went in, wrinkling her nose at the smell. It seemed to be getting stronger. She clicked on the lights and slammed the door closed behind her.
She couldn’t move back in while it smelled like this. She threw her bag onto the dusty coffee table and wandered round, not really feeling at home anymore. She might not even get her bond back if she couldn’t air it out.
She glanced into the kitchen. She really needed to clean up. Had she left the pots in the sink unwashed like that? Well, she had left in a bit of a rush. It all looked neglected and unloved.
She went into the bedroom. The smell was stronger in here. She stared at the bed. The bedcovers were rumpled and disturbed. She knew she’d made the bed before she’d left. She always did. It was one of the few household tasks she didn’t have to force herself to do.
Someone had been sleeping in her bed—and she was fairly sure it wasn’t Goldilocks.
She leaned forwards. What was that on the pillow? She snatched at the scrap of fabric and examined it. It was a torn edge of something silky with a delicate lace edge. It looked like one of her old slips—a red one she’d loved and couldn’t find. How had it ended up ripped and in her bed?
She heard her front door open and close again. She froze. Heavy footsteps echoed in the silence. Someone had come in.
“Jackson?” she called out, her voice loud in the still air.
“Jackson, Jackson, Jackson. How I hate that name.” A figure blocked the doorway. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. It was him—Jackson’s brother.
He looked at her and smiled. “You do look nice. I hope you got dressed up for me.” He was swinging her camera from his hand.
“I thought Jackson was coming. He said to meet him here.”
“Did he? I don’t think so. I rang that nice man at your office. Did he think I was Jackson? What a fool. And you just assumed it was too. I hope you’re not disappointed.”
With an awful sinking feeling she realised Jackson wasn’t coming here. Jackson had never been coming here. It was him—and only him.
“So, let’s have a proper look at you.”
He took a step towards her and she backed up, trying to keep a distance between them. What was he even doing here? How did he get her camera? What did he want from her? She looked into his face. He was tall, imposing—attractive even. But there was something odd about the way his pale eyes glittered. She knew she couldn’t trust him. And she knew she wasn’t safe.
“High heels—very high heels! I like them. A short dress—that’s good. And what lovely red lipstick. You know what messages all this sends, don’t you?” He smiled again. “It says you’re looking for sex—for a mate.”
She wasn’t going to show him her reaction. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure. He was crazy—and she was alone in her apartment with him. She tried to damp down the feeling of panic that was threatening to overwhelm her. “Or it says I just wanted to look nice because my friends are waiting for me downstairs.” She checked her watch. “And if I’m not there soon, they’ll come up here looking for me.”
“Will they? How convenient. Well, we’d better be quick then.” He kept his eyes fixed on hers.
She watched in horror as he quickly undid his jeans and let them fall to the floor, stepping out of them. Then he pulled his T shirt over his head. He was naked.
She was trapped in her apartment with a crazy man who had just taken all his clothes off. Her heart was pounding, and she had to try hard not to start screaming. This was bad—really bad. She just had to stay calm and think her way out of this.
She tried not to stare at him. He was tall, lean and muscular. But he was hairy too. His chest was covered in a thick light layer of hair, and it stretched down his belly too. She tried not to look any lower but her eyes seemed to be pulled down against her will. He was big man in more ways than one. His cock hung down, long and thick. She shuddered to think how it looked when it was erect and hoped she would never find out.
“But before we start, I just wanted to say how photogenic you are. Well, certain parts of you anyway.” He held her camera and clicked on the replay mode. The small screen reflected in his eyes. “I like this one best.” He turned the camera to her. “Look, it’s the one where you have someone’s dick in your mouth. It looks like you’re enjoying it. Did it feel good? Did he shove it in really deep? Did he come in your mouth? I bet you swallowed it all.”
She glared at him, enraged. “Don’t be an idiot. Where do you get off looking at things like that?” She knew she shouldn’t be making him angry. He was a big, crazy, naked man and he was between her and the door.
Her mind was racing. How could she get out? Her bag with her phone in it was on the coffee table in the other room. Her bedroom window was locked tight. Even on a good day it took her five minutes of concentrated cursing to open it—and then what? A sheer drop to the street.
She looked at him. He was staring at the images on the camera with a smile on his face. She glanced down. Was his cock looking bigger, getting more erect? Perhaps a thirty-foot dive to cold hard concrete would be preferable. Or perhaps she could just convince him to let her go.
“I like this one too though,” he said, like a kid choosing between his two favorite candy bars. He turned the camera to her again. “I just can’t decide which is my favorite. Come here. Tell me what you think.”
She shook her head. She really didn’t want to get any closer.
“Come here—or I’ll drag you by your hair.” There was a sudden flare of anger in his voice and she knew she needed to keep him calm.
She’d play nice, until she could think of a way out of this. She stepped closer to him. Perhaps if she gave him a little of what he wanted, she could persuade him to leave her alone. At the very least, the longer she played for time, the better off she was.
“It’s the one of you touching yourself. You are a horny little bitch, aren’t you? I bet you can’t get enough. I bet you’re always fingering your pussy.”
Justine glanced briefly at the screen and away again. She knew the image. She was lying back, grinning widely—without a care in the world. Her shirt open and her breasts were spilling over the top of her bra cups. But it was what she was doing that made her squirm with embarrassment. She had her panties pulled to one side and she was touching herself.
“You look so horny. Did you rub your pussy? Did you get really wet? Come on Justine—you can tell me. After all, I’m going to find out for myself in just a moment.”
She didn’t say anything. This was awful. She couldn’t even bear to imagine what was going to happen.
He clicked forward through more images of her playing with herself. “But this is good too. I like the way you’ve put two—or is it three? —fingers right inside your pussy. How did it feel Justine? I know you like having something big inside you. I bet you just can’t get enough, can you?”
He stepped closer to her. He towered over her. He was altogether bigger and broader than Jackson.
She estimated the distance between him and the door. If she moved fast, she might just be able to get out.
“Did you like it Justine? Can you put your whole hand up there?”
His arm snapped around her shoulders like a vice. He pulled her towards him. She tried to resist him but he was too strong.
“I’d like to see you do that. I’d like to watch you finger-fuck your wet pussy until you came.”
She could fe
el his breath on her hair. What was she going to do? Scream? Her neighbors had never yet come up or even banged on the ceiling or floor even when she’d had all-night parties. The apartment was well-built and solid and right now that seemed like a really bad thing. She had to get to her phone—or out of the door.
“Will you do that for Justine? Will you put your fingers inside yourself and make yourself come? You can make as much noise as you like. I want to hear you screaming in pleasure—and pain.” He laughed again.
This was getting out of control. What should she do? She looked down again. He was definitely getting a hard-on. His cock looked bigger than ever. She just needed time to think. “Maybe I will—if you treat me right. Perhaps dinner? I could blow off my friends and we could go out? Let’s get to know each other better.” She was desperate. She’d promise anything if she could just get away from him.
He looked at her speculatively, tempted. “Okay.”
Her heart lifted. This was going to work. She’d get downstairs with him—then run for it, screaming all the way.
“But first, I want a little something on account. As an appetizer, you could say.” He shoved her hard and she was on her back on the bed. She screamed as she fell.
“You’re going scream more than that by the time I’m done.”
She rolled over, knowing she need to get up, and fast. But before she could, he was on top of her. He pushed her down onto her back, his weight pinning her against the bed. His face was close to hers and she closed her eyes, trying to block out the look of excitement, of arousal on his face.
He was heavy and powerful and she could barely move.
“If you get off me now, we’ll just forget this ever happened. We can still go out to dinner and take things from there.” She kept her voice steady and calm, belying the cold wash of panic inside her. “It will be nice. We can spend some time together—get to know each properly. It always makes things better.”
“But I feel I now you so well already. After all, we’ve had a wonderful night together already. I’ve been living here—sleeping in your bed. I’ve been looking at all your underwear you left in the drawer, and enjoying those photos of you. It’s been good, really good. But now I’ve got you—in the flesh. This is better, don’t you think?”