by Liz Bower
"You were running away from me, just like earlier. But you didn't run home, you just kept running, right into the arms of the man who grabbed you outside of Altenbury Hall. He saw me running after you, and he just smiled at me. An evil smile that seemed to say, 'I'm going to screw with your life.' He pulled out a knife, but you couldn't see it because he stabbed you in the back. And I tried, I ran so fast. But I couldn't get to you. He just kept stabbing you, over and over. And the blood ..."
Jess dropped the cushion and the bottle on the floor and scooted across the sofa. "Rob." She sat up on her knees, right next to him, her hand hovering over his arm.
He lifted his head and opened his eyes. Leaning forward, she heard the bottle as he placed it on the coffee table, and then he reached for her. Pulled her onto his lap and buried his face in her hair. She wrapped herself around him, one hand stroking the back of his neck, as well as the soft hair above it. Over and over, she just kept stroking, until he lifted his head.
"Was it ... Did you have ...?"
Rob shook his head. "It wasn't like yours. There was no blood when I woke up. It was just a dream. A really fucking horrible dream."
She stroked his cheek, the hair beneath her fingers soft. "I'm sorry."
"It wasn't your fault. It wasn't real," he said, leaning his head into her hand.
She swallowed hard, her tongue flicking out, wetting her dry lips. "I know. But me running from you probably didn't help."
"Why did you?"
She shook her head. It didn't really matter anymore, did it? She didn't want to tell him, not after that—it seemed stupid. She was saved from having to tell him as the lights flickered before they were plunged into darkness.
She felt Rob tense beneath her as she grasped his shoulders. She was about to ask him what had happened when she felt his fingers press against her lips. His breath was hot against her ear, his lips brushing against it.
"Don't say anything. I'm going to go have a look around. Stay here."
"Please, don't leave me here," she whispered into his ear. She hated the dark, but her eyes were starting to adjust to the faint streetlight that filtered in through the open curtains. He reached down and picked something up, and then there was a ray of white light. His phone. She clutched onto his belt with both hands as she followed him into the kitchen.
He checked the door, but it was locked; however, the security light in the backyard was off, even though it was battery-powered. He shone the torch from his phone through the window, but there was nothing except covered garden furniture and plants. They found the same at the front, and Rob checked the fuse box.
"There are no lights on in any of the houses. I think it's a power cut on this side of the street."
"Great."
He reached for her and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Come on. I'll build a fire, that'll help."
***
Jess sat on the floor with a blanket wrapped around her while he scrunched up newspaper and layered on kindling to get the fire started. It had been hard telling Jess about his dream. Hard to relive it, because he knew how much she meant to him already.
He didn't think Jess felt the same way, though, but he'd hoped that telling her would get her to open up at least. It was an unusual feeling for him. He didn't share about his past and was never usually that interested in other people’s. But Jess? He wanted to know about Miles, about everything. She was worse than him about sharing, and he wondered why. It made him want to know all the more.
As the flames engulfed the kindling, he added two logs and put the grate across. He sat back from the fire, next to Jess, his back resting against the coffee table. He could feel the heat from the fire already, and stretched his legs out in front of him, toeing off his shoes. Jess was quiet, looking lost in the dance of the flames. She hadn't told him what her vision had been about, but the fact that she ran from him made him believe he was involved somehow. The flames licked around the logs as they started to burn brighter. He'd known Jess for years but didn't really know her. She didn't know him either.
One of them had to give in first because they couldn't keep shutting each other out. He was starting to agree with Emma, that he was involved in all this somehow. Glancing over at Jess, she ignored him and just carried on staring into the flames. He picked up his bottle and turned to face her, his elbow resting on the coffee table.
"Do you want to play a game?"
She glared at him like he had grown another head. "I don't play games."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"This will be fun. I'll go first." He cleared his throat, hoping it would be fun. It might be disastrous. Too late now, he thought, trying to come up with two lies. "I'm a virgin."
Jess burst out laughing. "Right, and the Pope’s not Catholic."
He smiled at her but carried on. "I'm the eldest of seven brothers."
"No, you're not. You don't even have any brothers or sisters. Do you?"
"The first time I met Matt, I helped chase off two bullies."
That time, she didn't say anything; she just stared at him, her eyes filling with tears.
Oh, shit, this was not how it was supposed to play out. Way to go, Rob, real fun. Do something. Fix it. As he floundered around trying to think of something, she smiled, showing him her dimples, and he grinned back. "Your turn." Her smile disappeared, and she gazed back into the fire. He hoped she was thinking of something.
"I have three sisters. I have never lived anywhere but Altenchester. The first time I met you, I was ... scared of you."
Well, shit, he hadn't been expecting that. "Are you still now?"
"I'm not a hundred percent sure on the rules, but I don't think you get to ask questions."
"No, you're right, you don't. All I will say is lie, lie and I really hope you're not because you have no reason to be scared of me." He let her think about that as he threw another log on the fire. Sparks jumped, and it crackled as it hit the flames.
When it settled down, he realised how quiet the house was with no electricity. No humming of machines or the blare of the TV. He liked it. He leaned back against the coffee table again, a little closer to Jess that time, and his arm brushed against the blanket.
He didn't want her to be scared of him. Maybe it was time to let her know a little more about the real him. He scratched his fingers through the hair on his chin as he thought up some more lies.
"I never went to university. I hate puppies. The first person I ever hit was my dad ... right before he left us for good."
She leaned into him, her hand on his arm. "I never knew. Matt never talks about you."
He shrugged. He didn't tell her for sympathy; it was what it was. And it was a long time ago now. It had been the best day of his life when his dad had walked out. And he was happy never to have to see him again. Rob had a feeling Jess understood more than most. And he had a horrible feeling that Miles might have something to do with why Jess understood. "Not really something you bring up in everyday conversation." He lifted her hand off his arm and threaded his fingers through hers instead. She didn't resist, which he took as a good sign. He felt her chest rise as she took a deep breath.
"I love my job, and making sandwiches is my lifelong dream. I left home because of ... Miles."
"Why, Jess? What did he do to you? Tell me. I swear if he hurt you ..."
"You're not very good at keeping to the rules of the game that you wanted to play."
He pulled at the hair on the back of his head and rubbed his fingers across his neck. She was right, but he hadn't thought it through. Hadn't realised how frustrating it would be, to get some of the answers he wanted but not the rest.
"Your turn," she said, nudging his leg.
He let out a deep breath. "I got married when I was twelve. I still believe in Santa. And after that dream, I wanted to come round here, just to check that you were okay." Her head dropped to his shoulder, and he wondered if he'd gone too far when she didn't speak.
After a few minutes of silence, he t
hrew another log on the fire and then laid out flat on the floor in front of it. He took her hand again and pulled her down next to him, her head resting on his chest.
"I dreamt about the peacocks again."
When she didn't continue, he wrapped his free arm around her back, tugging her closer to his side, his other hand still twined with hers.
"Then it was you, and all these blondes. Miles made me watch you ... and the women. You called me frigid," she said on a deep exhale.
He could feel her leg bouncing, and he stroked her back while he thought how to answer that. "I'm pretty sure there's no such thing as frigid. Except in the minds of men who don't know how to satisfy a woman, and you feel pretty hot to me at the moment." She didn't laugh as he'd hoped, and her leg was still bouncing. "As much as my ego would love it to be true, I don't tend to get blondes throwing themselves at me." That got a snort from her.
In or out, Rob? Either do this or back off, because you can't do your normal half-hearted attempt. This is Jess, and it has to be all or nothing.
He sucked in a deep breath. "I don't know where you get your ideas from, but I'm not a player. I haven't been with a woman since you were drunk and kissed me.”
Jess jerked upright and looked down at him, staring him straight in the eyes. "That was last year, before Christmas."
"Yes, I'm aware it's been three months, trust me."
"But ... but ..."
He sat up too, wrapped his fingers around her jaw, and rubbed his thumb along her bottom lip. "I think about you all the time. I dream about you. You are the only woman in my head, and you're driving me crazy." He didn't know what else to say, so he let his actions speak for him instead.
Slowly, he lowered his head to hers, hoping she wouldn't take the opportunity to stop him. He pressed his lips gently against hers, and then pulled back to look at her; he couldn't help but smile at the shocked look still on her face.
He lay back down, dragging her with him. They lay side by side, facing each other, and he kissed her again. But that time, she kissed him back. He flicked his tongue across her lips, and they parted. Her tongue met his and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer when a moan escaped her lips.
He kissed her softly, and then leaned back. He wanted more, so much more, but not right then. She needed to catch up with him because he was pretty sure she hadn't spent the last three months fantasizing about him.
She dropped her head to his chest, an arm wrapped around his waist. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, tugging the blanket over them both, and pulled her tight against his chest.
"Night, angel."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jess woke up to the embers of the fire, and her head on Rob's chest. The night before came back to her, and she wondered if the electricity was back on. Glancing up, she saw that Rob was still asleep, his face relaxed and so damn attractive. She'd learned a lot about him over the course of the night, more than she'd expected to. She couldn't believe she'd never known how he and Matt had met, or how much she had assumed she'd known about him.
But what she thought she'd known had been based on his cocky smile and flirty nature. Plus the fact he looked a little intimidating; he'd have no trouble subduing most people he met.
She watched him sleeping, wondering about his dad, about why Rob had spent the night again. And, with more hope than she should, if he would again sometime. He moved beneath her and let out a soft snore, and she decided it was time to get up. The oven clock was flashing at her as she entered the kitchen. Thank God, that meant she could have coffee.
As she poured herself a cup, she heard Rob groan from the other room. She grabbed another cup and turned to offer it.
"God, I'm too old to sleep on the floor. My back's killing me."
The sight of him made her smile. She'd never seen him look so rumpled, and he had a line down his cheek, presumably from the cushion. He took the offered cup from her. "How old are you?"
He bent over the cup, inhaling deeply, before taking a sip. "Same age as your brother, give or take a few months."
She sipped her own coffee. Then hiding behind the cup, she asked, "James?"
He lifted his head and glared at her, one eyebrow raised. "No, not James, Matt. Is that you're not-so-polite way of saying I look old?"
She laughed and shook her head. "He's not that much older than you and Matt."
"Really? He acts it."
"Yeah, I guess he does. As much as Matt and I complain about our parents, James has had it the worst. As the eldest, he has expectations and a role to fill, whether he likes it or not."
"Yeah, family can definitely have its drawbacks."
She thought back to the previous night. She was pretty sure he didn't have siblings, and he clearly wasn't in touch with his dad. "What about yours?"
"None left. My mum died two years ago. I don't have any brothers or sisters, and I don't know of any family she had. So yeah, it's just me now."
As much as her parents frustrated her, she couldn't imagine her life without them, or Matt and James. "Well, you've got Matt, at least." But the look on his face didn't agree.
He put his coffee cup on the table and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I have to go. I'm working this weekend, and I have a few personal trainer appointments too."
Disappointment hit her, and the horrible thought that it could be worse—he could have plans with someone else. She followed him to the front door, but he didn't open it.
"What are your plans for the weekend?"
"Erm, I'm not sure. I guess I should do some research on my family before we all meet up at James's."
"Okay. I'll call you later then, see how it goes."
Before she could think of a response to that statement, his hand was in her hair, and his lips pressed against hers. She ran her hands up his chest, feeling the flex of his muscles beneath her palms, then looped her arms around his neck as she pressed herself against him. When he groaned, she flicked her tongue out to meet his, tangling them together. He sucked on her bottom lip before breaking the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, his breathing uneven. He touched his lips gently to hers again, opened the front door, and strutted down the path. She leaned against the front door and watched him leave, letting out a little sigh of contentment.
***
It was a crisp, blue-sky day as she made her way to James's cottage, and the weather suited her mood. True to his word, Rob had called her the previous night, which was weird but nice. She wasn't sure what was happening between them, if anything.
If she didn't think it would get back to Matt, she would talk to Emma about it, but she wasn't sure if Rob would want Matt to know. Maybe he'd want to speak to Matt himself. Maybe she should. She shook her head to stop the thoughts.
The rest of her Saturday had been quiet, spent with her head in reference books at the library. She hoped Matt and James were having more luck than her.
As she reached his cottage, she knocked on the door and then walked in. James came to greet her, leading her into the dining room that now had a desk, littered with papers and books, and an open laptop on it. There were several notice boards with papers pinned to them. Clearly, James had been busy, but then that was James—if something needed to be done, he'd just do it.
She saw her name on one of the pinned papers and, as she read it, realised it was Matt's list of everything related to what was happening. Her stomach did a little flip when she saw Rob's name on there too.
James nodded towards the list she was reading. "Why don't we start with that? Anybody got anything to add to it?"
Jess could feel everyone's gaze on her, and her cheeks flushed with heat. Some things she just didn't want to share with her brothers. Emma must have understood and smiled at Jess.
"Why don't we go get drinks for everyone?
Jess gladly followed her out of the room and into the kitchen. "Thanks. Not sure my brothers are prepared for so much sharing. Not from their sister, anyway."
"
You want to tell me instead? I can let the others know after."
With a nod, Jess explained her visions to Emma, and Rob's dream. She hoped he wouldn't mind, but it seemed important to this. By the time she had finished, Emma had a smile bigger than Altenchester spread across her face. "What?"
"Okay, so you told me about the visions, but what aren't you telling me? Are you and Rob ...?" Emma said, waving her hand back and forth.
"Friends?"
"You don't sound so sure. Did something happen?"
Jess didn't want to lie, and she really wanted to know what Emma thought. "Okay, but you can't tell Matt. He stayed the night, and we ... kissed." Jess clamped her hands over her ears as Emma squealed and clapped excitedly.
"I knew it. I knew it!"
"Shh." Jess glanced over her shoulder. "Matt will come running, thinking you're being attacked if you carry on with that noise."
"Sorry, sorry. But I'm so excited. You two are so right for each other."
"I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself, Emma. I said we kissed, that's all."
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Jess. Just let me know when you start to believe it."
"It's true," Jess urged.
"If you say so. But that man is crazy about you. It's written all over his face whenever he's near you. You're hiding behind this 'just friends' rubbish because, for some reason, how he feels scares you."
"Is everything all right? We heard screams," Matt said as he walked over to put an arm around Emma's waist.
Jess picked up her coffee and left the two of them to it. She could hear their voices as she left the room. I'm not hiding, am I?
No, she hadn't been hiding that morning, when they'd kissed. Emma didn't know what she was talking about. Did she?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Distracted by her conversation with Emma, Jess didn't notice James staring at her until he spoke.
"You okay, Jess? You look a million miles away, rabbit."