"No thank you, I'm okay for now."
He chuckles quietly at my response and his hand shoots out quickly, taking hold of my arm. His grip is cold, the contact between us making my skin crawl. I glance down at it, gritting my teeth at the sight of his dirty hand on mine. "Let go of me."
My voice is strong and calm and even I'm impressed with the tone I use. His top lip curls up intimidatingly but his hold tightens further. I let out a low hiss under my breath, my face emotionless as I attempt to yank his hand off me. He leans closer, his breath laced with alcohol.
"When I offer you a drink, you should take it." He whisper, sick humour lining his voice.
"I would but I'd probably catch a disease. Let me go." I shoot back at him, narrowing my eyes. I lean back further into the seat, trying to put as much distance between us as I can. From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Jones and almost stop breathing.
His hood is pulled over his head and he wore a dark jacket followed by some jet black jeans. His stance screamed authority and everyone else in the pub seemed to have quietened down and spoke in hushed whispers around him.
There's no mistaking his piercing eyes, they burn brightly like a blue flame. His jaw is clenched tightly as he takes a step forward.
I'd completely forgotten about the man opposite me, unable to tear my eyes off DC Jones. I watch him like a hawk. He stops as he stands behind the man, looking down at him and tilting his head slightly. My throat dries up, sucking all the moisture out of my mouth and a drink definitely sounds appealing right now.
The man that has hold of my wrist is completely unaware of the figure stood over him and continues to leer at me, his presence making my skin crawl. Jones' hand shot out and he places it on the mans shoulder whose head immediately snaps to it, before glancing at his face.
As he meets eyes with Jones, he immediately drops his hold on my wrist and I clutch it towards my body, thankful to have his dirty paws off me. The man's face immediately pales and he stands to his feet, staggering over slightly. He looks like he's seen a ghost.
"I am s-so sorry." He apologises, taking a few steps back away from Jones. He's shorter than him by a fair few inches and Jones looms over him like an authoritative giant. The man appears terrified and cowers a little, backing up into the wall behind him. I scoot as far away into the wall as I can, wishing I could find a way to make a run for it without having to pass Jones.
I watch silently, my hands trembling in my lap as DC Jones takes a few steps towards the petrified man and grabs him by the scruff of his neck. The man instantly shut his eyes as if expecting a blow to his face, something I recognised from my time living with Trevor.
"Please! I didn't do anything, I wasn't touching her, I swear!" He pleads, his eyes growing wide with terror. DC Jones remains silent, blue flames burning holes into the man's face. His lips curl up into a smirk as he enjoys the reaction he's getting from his victim. He slowly brings his face towards the man's ear and whispers, loud enough for me to hear.
"If you touch her again, I'll tear off your limbs one by one. Do you understand?"
His words sent icy shivers pulsing throughout my whole body and my face drained of any colour remaining. If I thought I was shaking before, it was nothing compared to the chills in my body now. The man whimpered in his arms and nodded profusely before DC Jones released him, causing him to fall hard onto the floor. He immediately scurried to his feet and fled straight out of the pub, leaving his unfinished drink behind on the table in front of me.
Jones shook off his hands and smiled chillingly at my pale face, knowing his words scared the living crap out of me. He took a seat opposite me where the slob previously sat and moved the drink out of the way before looking straight at me, his eyes confident and gleaming.
"Emily, you came." Jones smiles, signalling for the bartender to come over to our table. The women immediately scurried over, smiling tightly at me before waiting for Jones to speak to her. I nod, still not able to speak due to how dry my throat is.
It seems like everybody in this pub is terrified of this man, including myself. I reach into my jacket and slowly take out my phone, ready to text Jake if anything goes wrong. Thankfully Jones doesn't notice as he speaks to the bartender, ordering his drinks. I fiddle with my phone in my hands underneath the table and I'm grateful for the small device that reassures my nerves. The feel of the knife in my pocket reminds me I have some sort of safety and I blow out a breath, composing myself.
Jones brings his attention back to me once he's finished with the bartender and he places both hands on the table between us, interlacing his fingers. His entire body language reminds me of a police officer, confident and demanding. He cocks his head to the side slightly and studied me silently before speaking again.
"You're scared of me, aren't you?"
I look up at him in disbelief. Isn't it obvious? His eyes flash with sadness before quickly masking them over with his signature cold front. I drop my gaze, unable to look at him any longer than a few seconds.
"Can you blame me? The crazy texts. The stalking. What sane person does that?" I ask him, my voice surprisingly confident. I've had enough, I need answers. The worst feeling is being left in the dark when it involves a man I love with all my heart. I need to know what Jones knows about my family and my past.
"I want to ask you a few questions and you need to tell me the truth."
I want to lead this conversation, it's I who organised the meeting. DC Jones nods and signals for the bartender to leave without so much as glancing at her.
She places a drink in front of him and an orange juice in front of me before hurrying off, her eyes trained on the floor. Jones picks up his drink and takes a gulp before placing it back down and licking his lips. I do the same with mine, grateful for the cool juice travelling down my throat. I feel instantly refreshed and place it back down onto the table.
"What do you want to know?" Jones asks me, his voice low and deep, laced with amusement. I clench my jaw at the sheer cheek of this man.
"Who the hell are you to start off with?"
He is starting to anger me and I need some answers. My life seems to be one big messed up lie and the jigsaw was missing pieces, too many pieces.
Jones chuckles deeply at my question before he leans back, interlacing his fingers once again. I notice a dragon's head tattoo sneaking out from under his jacket on his wrist and he immediately pulled his sleeve down, keeping it hidden.
"You're not ready to know the answer to that question yet Emily. I will tell you soon though."
I let out a scoff, narrowing my eyes at him.
Is this man actually for real right now?
"I came here for answers! I don't want to play your games any longer." I spit back, wanting him to know I'm more than just a scared vulnerable little girl that he can manipulate.
"Whoever you are, I won't let you treat me like this! I've spent most of my life being pushed around and I won't stand for it anymore." I add, meaning every single word. Jones remains silent, listening intently before nodding. The corner of his lips turn down into a straight line and his face becomes emotionless, hard as stone.
"You've finally grown a back bone."
I sit back, frowning as I study him. Why does he act like he's known me my entire life?
"How long have you known me?" I ask desperately, my mind a jumbled up, confused mess.
"All your life."
His tone is blunt, dark eyes full of truth. My head reels from his answer and I lean backwards, finding it difficult to understand. I've never seen him before, never laid eyes on this man up until a few months ago.
"You're lying!" I snap back, my words shaking as I didn't know whether he's telling true or not. Is he lying? He sounds so certain.
My head throbs and I rub at my temples with my fingers, feeling light headed and dizzy from the conversation. I desperately search through my memories, trying to picture Jones' face again.
"You have to be lying," I whisper, shaking my
head. My throat runs completely dry and I can feel my stomach twisting with knots. The pounding in my head increases and I let out a small groan, my hands tightening around my phone.
I glance up to find DC Jones watching me, a small smile playing on his lips as my vision began to blur.
The noise in the pub intensifies and soon enough it feels like the music was blaring straight out from my head, each beat stronger than the last. I groan again, my muscles instantly turning weak. My grasp on the phone loosens and it drops from my hold, landing on the floor. My eyes flutter closed but Jones' grinning smile flashes through my mind.
"What did you do?" I choke out before blackness invited itself inside my head. My body slumps forward, slamming straight onto the table in front of me. The glass shatters, piercing into my skin. Remnants of orange juice pours onto the floor and all that's left in the bottom is a powdery white substance.
"Goodnight Emily."
Chapter Thirty One - Howling caveman.
Jake's POV -
Harder, Faster, Stronger.
My fist collides with the bag once again, the force of the punch sending it flying backwards. Beads of sweat drips down my face and I focus on my breathing, keeping it steady and rhythmic. Each punch I lay into the bag causes one more worry to disappear for a few blissful seconds.
Emily's safety, punch.
Trevor, punch.
Amil, punch.
DC Jones, punch.
My knuckles sting painfully and I grab the bag with both hands, resting my forehead against the cool surface. My chest is rising heavily up and down and I breathe in deeply, ignoring the aching pain in my arms.
Pain is good.
Pain means progress.
Progress means I'm becoming stronger.
Becoming stronger means I can keep Emily safe.
That's all I want.
Her sweet face flashes through my mind and I smile, wiping the sweat off my forehead with my arm. I tear off my boxing gloves and chuck them to the side before grabbing my bottle and downing the liquid. I glance over at my phone that's on my dresser and frown, no texts.
Emily promised to text me once she was done shopping with Trish yet hours have passed. I shrug it off thinking girls will be girls, never get in between a girl when she's got her shopping head on.
Most of them wouldn't skip a heartbeat to trade you for a 50% off sale.
I grab my towel and head for the shower. I pass Tobias in the hallway and nod in his direction. Things between us were slowly becoming civil yet I still have problems with the guy that would never be solved. He crossed a line no brother should ever cross. I brush past him making sure I don't make eye contact as the last thing I want is to start a fight with him again. I've promised Emily I would try keep from punching his teeth out at every chance I got and I intend to stick with that promise.
I keep all of my promises.
*****
"Where is that lovely girlfriend of yours?" Aunty Myra asks me, pecking my cheek whilst shrugging her coat off. I jokingly wipe away the area she kissed, mocking disgust and Aunty Myra chuckles. I smile at her and shrug —
"She's out shopping with a friend but hasn't text me for hours."
I check my phone again. Nothing.
I frown and decide against ringing her. I didn't want to come across controlling and if she's having a good time, she deserves it. The girl has been through too much recently and a few hours away from all her troubles will be good for her.
"I know you love her Jake but don't overdo your caveman act, she'll be back soon." Aunty Myra says before putting the kettle on.
"I'm a natural born caveman, I can't help it." I respond, pounding my chest and howling at the ceiling. Aunty Myra laughs, clutching her stomach.
"You may be a caveman but you're not a bloody werewolf, stop howling."
I grin and turn back to my phone checking my messages again. Still nothing. Screw it, I'll ring her and check to make sure she's okay.
The phone rings once, twice, three times, no answer. I frown and the bad feeling in my stomach deepens. I sigh and push my chair back, murmuring a goodbye to Auntie Myra. She watches me leave, her head shaking at me. I reach for my jacket, shrugging it on before grabbing my keys. If she doesn't want to answer me, I'll go find her.
It's better to be safe than sorry, right?
I pull my hood over my head as I walk briskly in the direction of Trish's house. I couldn't shake the bad feeling in my stomach, no matter how many times I try to re-assure myself.
Chapter Thirty Two - Prisoner.
My eyes flutter open and I groan, a wave of pain shooting down my body. The pounding in my head begins to intensify and I groan again, louder this time. Everything begins to rush back to me, the memory hitting me worse than the ache I'm feeling. DC Jones, the pub, the drink. . .
I'm fully awake now, my eyes wide with fear. I look down and realise my hands are tied with a thick rope, double knotted.
"What the hell," I breathe out, unable to believe what I'm seeing. I tug on the ropes desperately but instead of loosening, they tighten further causing pain to the tender skin on my wrists. I glance around the floor to find some sort of object to use. No luck.
The room is small and square, the walls covered in a floral wallpaper that's peeling from every corner. Yellow stains and mould collects on the ceiling. The mahogany furniture along with the floor is covered in a thick layer of dust and grime. Sunlight streams in from a small window just below the ceiling that's protected by a metal cage. Is that to stop things from getting in or from me getting out?
I breathe in heavily and pull again on the ropes, the feeling of desperation increasing. Fear and shock settles inside my stomach as I realise the psychopath kidnapped me. Both my hands are tied and my right foot is also roped to the metal frames of a rusty single bed.
The bed is filthy with a dirty stained mattress an inch thick. I grimace at the sheer filthiness of the whole room and instead focus my attention on getting the hell out of here. I face the wooden door on the other side of the room, holding my breath as I listen out for any noise behind it.
Complete silence surrounds me.
It's obviously the next day considering I had met DC Jones last night. That meant I was with him all night, unconscious. The thought of that alone made me feel sick. A shiver runs down my body and I grimace, glancing down to study my clothes. Thank god I'm still fully dressed. A single tear falls down my cheek and I curse myself for crying.
Why does everyone want to hurt me?
Ever since my dad died, my life spiralled downhill. My life has completely flipped upside down and now I'm going to die. DC Jones is a psychopath, the situation I'm in confirmed that for me. I begin to hyperventilate. . . Like full on, cannot breathe. Lungs on strike.
Another tear escapes my eye landing on the filthy floor. I twist my body until I'm in a more comfortable position and lay my head over my arms, closing my eyes. I focus on my breathing and Jake's face flashes through my mind. I whimper at the thought of never seeing him again, never feeling his arms around me, never feeling his lips on mine. I suddenly ache for him, wanting him to come get me out of this mess so we can go back to eating pancakes together and annoying each other.
Stop it Emily. You can get out of this.
"Damn right I can," I whisper, wiping the tears away quickly with my arm as I feel hope flood through me.
"Screw this, screw him." I protest. I knew Jake would want me to be strong, he'd want me to fight like he had taught me to. I try to put myself inside Jake's mind, react the way he would in this situation.
My eyes desperately scan the room once again and I attempt to undo the ropes but they don't budge. I'm not as strong as Jake and nowhere near as smart.
I cry out in frustration, tugging harder at the ropes on my arms. The ropes only tighten reminding me of my new prisoner status. I grit my teeth in defeat and do the one thing I can in hopes of getting out of here.
I scream for help.
****
*
Jakes POV -
"What do you mean, she's not here?" I ask harshly, pushing the door back and storming inside Trish's house. I make my way to the living room and push open the door searching for Emily.
"Where is she Trish?" I ask, my voice rising slightly. Trish backs away from me, her eyes wide with fear. I mentally roll my own at her reaction, everyone is always so scared of the boy with a reputation. As if I would ever lay hands on a female, I'm not a complete heartless thug.
"I'm not going to hurt you, just tell me where she is." I say firmly, my patience running low.
"I don't know where she is, we never even met after college! Honestly Jake, I don't know." Trish pleads with me and I know from the look in her eyes that she's telling me the truth.
Emily lied to me.
I grit my teeth and storm out, slamming the front door behind me. I can't believe Emily lied to me, she's been gone for hours.
I storm off in the opposite direction, heading for a house I never want to visit again. I push my way through the rubbish and pound on the front door. When I get no answer I knock again, bouncing on the heels of my trainers in an effort to keep me warm. As each hour passes into the night, the air became colder and harsher and my jacket isn't enough to keep me warm. The front door swings open and I come face to face with Emily's mum. The resemblance between her and her daughter is almost scary. Long dark hair, tanned skin and large brown eyes. I'm first one to break the silence between us.
"Sorry to interrupt you Mrs . . ." I wonder off, waiting for her to confirm her name. She closes the door over a little, protecting herself from me and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes once again.
"Mrs Cole," she says quietly before staring me down once again. I realise she's taken Trevor's last name. Imagine sharing a last name with that waste of space, I'd rather stick a fork through my own eyeball. . .
"Is Emily here? Have you seen her?" I ask quickly. The look on her face as I ask the question already has me knowing the answer. She isn't here.
His Mission (HIS SERIES Book 1) Page 21