Middle of Knight

by Jewel E. Ann

  “Stop.” AJ trapped her feet between his under the table and leaned forward. “If you choose to die for a sandwich, then I’ll respect that.” He sat back and shrugged. “It’s not a bad way to go. I’d much prefer it to this cancer shit in my fucking brain.”

  Wiping her mouth with the non-cloth napkin, she grinned. “I love you, Aric James.”

  He nodded with an intense look, the kind that made her feel his eyes everywhere, but most especially between her legs. Grasping his sandwich with both hands, he lifted it from the plate. Before taking a bite he slowly licked the sauce that had squeezed out along the edge.

  How desperate was she to be envious of a cooked piece of meat? It had been a while since she’d had sex or even brought herself to orgasm. AJ took a big bite then slowly licked his lips. Thankfully Marvin Housby saved the day. Jillian giggled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Jillian felt herself blush which was a very rare occurrence for her. “I was getting…” she looked around the restaurant “…turned on by you looking at me and then your tongue lapping along your sandwich.” Her laughter turned into an actual snort as she lost control of the moment. “But then it reminded me of Marvin Housby.”

  “Marvin?”

  She nodded. “Greta told me he masturbates to the pictures on the ValuPak coupons, like the girls on the Hardee’s ads.”

  AJ cleared his throat, blotting his napkin against his mouth to hide his own humor.

  “You looked like one of those girls on the Hardee’s commercial, and I looked at you like Marvin Housby and burger babes.”

  “You think I look like a girl?”

  “No. Just the way you were tonguing your sandwich.”

  “I wasn’t tonguing my sandwich.”

  The growly beast that sat across from her brought such life to an otherwise barren existence. The uniqueness of their love could never be compared to anything else. Luke had the best of her and she didn’t want it back—not ever. But AJ filled her lungs with life after death, he gave her so much hope that there was in fact light beyond the darkness.

  “What’s the first thing you remember?”

  “About what?” He dipped a French fry in ketchup.

  “Your life.”

  All she wanted to do was crawl inside his head as he looked out the window past the mountains to many years ago. Just a glimpse, that’s all she needed, a small piece of his innocence.

  “I’m not sure. I think it’s the first time my mom took me camping. My father had been deployed for almost a year and so we went camping with my aunt, uncle, and my two cousins in Northern California.”

  He smiled at the window. For a small moment in time he wasn’t fighting the cancer or PTSD. It was just a boy and a memory so special he kept it safe for over forty years.

  “It was in the fall like now, and cold, as in freeze-your-ass-off cold. I must have been three or four. We huddled around the smallest fire ever. If any of us breathed too hard it nearly snuffed it out. My mom made s’mores except she forgot the graham crackers so we just sandwiched burnt marshmallows between two pieces of milk chocolate. I went to bed with sticky hands but my mom didn’t care. She still zipped me up in her mummy bag with her to keep me warm. When we arrived home my dad was waiting on the front porch.”

  Jillian—Jessica—knew how it felt to not know if or when her father would come home. Every time he walked through the door felt like Christmas.

  They finished eating, letting his childhood memory linger in the air around them like a delicate bubble that neither wanted to pop. Eventually their waitress popped it for them.

  “Can I interest either of you in dessert?”

  They both shook their heads so she handed AJ the bill. “Your daughter has your smile.”

  AJ shot a lethal scowl at the back of her head as she continued on to another table.

  “Lunch is on me, big daddy.” Jillian grabbed the bill.

  “No tip. Not one penny.”

  *

  A private call to an unreceptive and pissed off McGraw and thirty minutes later they were pulling into a parking lot of a sporting goods store.

  “Did you forget your yoga mat?”

  “Funny, big daddy, but you know I don’t do yoga.”

  “If you call me that one more time—”

  “Make it good … really good. Maybe even a little sexually deviant.”

  AJ glared at her as she killed the engine. Big daddy’s eyes slipped to her boobs again.

  “Wait here.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a surprise.” After blowing him a quick kiss she shut the door and jogged to the entrance. Less than ten minutes later she and two employees pushed out carts overflowing with gear.

  “What’s all this?” AJ asked, stepping out of the Jeep as Jillian opened the back and loaded everything with the help of the store employees.

  “I’m taking you camping.”

  “You’re serious?”

  She nodded her head, signaling for him to get back in the Jeep as she climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “How did you get all that stuff in such a short amount of time?”

  “I offered to screw anyone who gathered my list in under five minutes. As you probably noticed it took closer to ten so I’m off the hook.”

  AJ frowned.

  “I’m joking.” She squeezed his leg. “I know a guy.”

  “A guy?”

  “Yes.”

  “By any chance is he the same guy who’s responsible for the pain medication?”

  “Yes.”

  “A doctor?”

  “Satan.”

  “You sold your soul to the Devil for me?”

  With a slight head cock, she stared at the road, thinking about that assessment. “No. I’d say the Devil sold his soul to me.”

  Jillian felt AJ’s gaze on her, but she kept her eyes trained ahead—to the future, a million miles away from her past.

  “Grocery store?”

  “Of course. But you can come in this time. We need grub for a few days.”

  Ice for the cooler and four bags of groceries later, they were on their way again. AJ started to drift to sleep just as they pulled into the parking area of a primitive campsite.

  “Looks like we’re the only ones here.” Jillian smiled at AJ as she got out. “I’ll set everything up. You just rest.”

  “I’m not sitting on my ass while you set everything up.” He climbed out with slow, stiff movements.

  “You should take a few pain pills anyway so they’ve kicked in by the time we get the tent set up.”

  “I’m fine.”

  His grumpy reply that she suspected to be a lie gained him an exaggerated eye roll straight to his face.

  “Fine.”

  They set up the tent, an eight-person castle that allowed AJ to fully stand at the tallest part in the middle.

  “S’mores?” Jillian called from outside the tent.

  AJ grinned as he stepped out, seeing her roasting four marshmallows to a toasted-brown perfection over the low flame of their little camping stove. She had graham crackers and chocolate squares waiting on their plates. Pride beamed from her whole face as she pressed everything together and handed him his plate.

  “And you thought I couldn’t cook.”

  AJ shoved half of it into his mouth, leaving a mess of chocolate and marshmallow smeared along his lips.

  “Good?” Jillian chuckled, taking a much smaller bite of hers.

  “So good.” Graham cracker crumbs shot out from his over-stuffed mouth.

  “How can you even taste it with your mouth so jam-packed?”

  After some lion-sized chews and a few big swallows he could talk without spitting all over her. “I can’t remember the last thing that tasted this good.”

  Every smile felt like the last, like watching the finale to a fireworks display. Jillian captured each one, letting it make a slow burn into her memory.

  “You’re staring. My face is a mess, isn’t
it?” He brushed his fingers over his lips.

  Jillian moved over to his lap. “I’ve met two-year-olds that eat neater than you.” She ran her thumb along his bottom lip then sucked the tip of her thumb.

  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her thumb from her lips back to his.

  “You should take your pills,” she whispered, feeling a sudden wave of nerves from the intimacy of his touch.

  Leaning forward, he rested his forehead on her chest, his hands on her hips. “I’m not ready to stop feeling yet.”

  Drawing in a shaky breath, fighting a lifetime of emotions, she kissed the top of his head, pressing her palms to his cheeks.

  He looked up at her. “Missing you hurt worse than anything they did to me.”

  Biting her lips together, she shook her head. “Loving you feels like torture.”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “I’m not.” She kissed him, welcoming every emotion: the pain, the breath of life, the uncertainty, the fear, the love. So. Much. Love.

  “Aric James … I need us.”

  He carried her into the tent and set her down, kneeling at her feet. Their eyes stayed locked the whole time. Jillian didn’t even want to blink, fearing he’d vanish. Life always changed in that one. Single. Blink.

  They undressed each other with a slow reverence, letting every touch, every look, every second … every blink matter. With Luke every moment felt like the first, with AJ every moment felt like the last. As AJ moved inside her, she let it be the moment, because it was the only one she had.

  “Jillian?” He kissed her neck, rocking his body against hers with agonizing patience.

  “Yes,” she whispered, feeling as if her body could float away.

  “From this point forward…” he squeezed her breast until she let out a small cry “…every breath I take belongs to you … only you.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him as close as possible to her. “I hate you … I fucking hate you for leaving me.” A strangled sob released into his neck while she continued to find her release. Her entire body wanted to let go of everything, everything except the beautifully broken man in her arms. How was she ever going to let him go?

  “I hate me too.” He fisted her hair with both hands and smashed his lips to hers as he released inside her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jackson demolished any time record he had ever set running, and then tore through an abs, pushup, and pull-up workout like his whole body defied gravity. Living under the mercy of two women—one infuriating, one frustrating—paid a mental toll on his sanity, and the only way to keep everything in check was to make his body burn until his mind could no longer conjure a worthwhile thought.

  Meredith Baker, his ten o’clock lesson arrived an hour early. Most of his students knew each other or were somehow connected because they’d all been referred to him by word of mouth. Meredith said she couldn’t remember who gave her his name and it didn’t matter how they “found each other” all that mattered is they were “together.”

  “Jackson.” She batted her fake eyelashes.

  “Mrs. Baker, you’re early … like an hour early.” He shoved the last bite of his toast into his mouth as she wormed her way inside without being invited.

  “Oh, am I?” The large-busted woman ran her fake nails through her wiry black hair and smiled, revealing red lipstick smudged along her slightly crooked white teeth.

  His lungs begged for air as her toxic perfume diffused into the entryway. “Yes.” He coughed. “It’s only nine.”

  “Oh, silly me. I still haven’t changed all my clocks since the time change.”

  “I see. Well, I haven’t finished my breakfast and I still need to shower so maybe you could come back—”

  “I don’t mind waiting. Just pretend I’m not here.” She adjusted her tight top that seemed to be in a wrestling match with her large breasts.

  Jackson rolled his eyes behind her back then grabbed his last piece of toast while she surveyed the room as if she hadn’t seen it numerous times before.

  “It’s odd that you don’t have any personal pictures on the wall or fireplace mantel. Don’t you think?”

  He didn’t respond. After all, she said to pretend she wasn’t there.

  “Did you hear me, Jackson?”

  “I did, but I don’t really have an answer for you.”

  “Where’s Jillian?”

  Jackson paused, mid-gulp of his Redbull. “What did you just say?”

  “Your sister. I asked where she is.”

  “What does your husband do, Mrs. Baker?”

  A nervous smile tugged at her thin lips as she ran her fingers over the top of the piano. “He … he died.”

  “Oh? Sorry to hear that. When did he die?”

  Fiddling with her earring, she cleared her throat. “Two years ago. It was a heart attack.”

  “You haven’t remarried?”

  Relief washed over her face when a knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Jackson kept his eyes on her until he opened the front door.

  “Ryn.”

  She smiled but it quickly faded. “Hey, is everything okay. You look—”

  “Everything’s fine.” He grinned, hoping she wouldn’t see through it. “Come in.”

  “Thanks, I can’t stay long I have an appointment in forty-five minutes. Oh …” She stopped. “Sorry, I thought your first lesson was at ten.”

  “Crazy time change.” Mrs. Baker offered her hand. “Meredith.”

  Ryn nodded, shaking her hand. “Ryn.”

  “Student? Friend?” Mrs. Baker questioned.

  Jackson grabbed Ryn’s arms and pushed her toward the bedroom. “She’s nobody. Have a seat, Mrs. Baker. I’ll be right out.”

  Ryn jerked out of his grasp the moment he shut his bedroom door behind them. “Nobody?”

  “Shh …” He reached for her but she stepped back.

  “Are you screwing her?” She gritted her teeth.

  “What? No, God no.” Jackson tried to keep his voice low but still get his point across. “Would you just listen?”

  Ryn folded her arms over her chest.

  “I don’t trust Mrs. Baker.”

  “Mrs. Baker?”

  Jackson rolled his eyes. “Meredith.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “Just … it’s complicated. But if there’s any chance that she’s …” he circled his finger in the cuckoo sign “…then I don’t want her anywhere near you or knowing anything about you.”

  “You think she’s stalking you?”

  More like spying, he thought. The incredulity in her voice and expression held plenty of merit. It did sound crazy. But crazy was his life.

  “At very least she’s been lying to me, and until I figure out why, I can’t trust her.”

  “Lying to you about what?”

  Jackson sighed. He couldn’t have that conversation with her, but the way she kept a safe distance from him led him to think he couldn’t not have that conversation with her either.

  “A couple weeks ago she told me about this great restaurant her husband took her to.”

  “So …”

  “So, today she told me her husband died two years ago.”

  Ryn shrugged. “He probably took her there while he was still alive.”

  Jackson rested his hands on his hips and leaned forward. “It was the Mexican restaurant we ate at last week.”

  “So … oh shit.”

  Jackson nodded.

  “That restaurant opened like … two months ago.”

  “Exactly.” He gave her a see-I’m-not-paranoid look.

  She pursed her lips, brow drawn tight.

  “I have to take a quick shower.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t stress. I’ll handle it.”

  Jackson hurried through his shower, mind reeling with the mystery of Mrs. Baker. What he didn’t share with Ryn was Mrs. Baker’s knowledge of Jillian … specifically her name. It’s not that it wa
s a secret, he just instinctually felt protective of her so when students asked about her he simply referred to her as his sister—never Jillian.

  “Aren’t you worried about her being out there unsupervised, snooping through your personal stuff?”

  Jackson dropped the towel from his waist. Ryn’s gaze slipped straight to his cock then it made a lazy ascent back to his face. She blushed a little at the realization that he’d been watching her ogle him. He loved it.

  “Done, hot pants?”

  “Shut up.” She moved to the window, finding a sudden fascination in the dirty pond out back. “Did you hear what I said about her going through your stuff?”

  He pulled on his briefs and his jeans. “I did. She’s not going to find anything.” His phone and computer were in the bedroom. The Knights didn’t exist beyond their address and a few online utility bills. There was nothing for Mrs. Baker to find, which made her presence in his life that much more disturbing.

  “I’m always happy to see you, but if you didn’t stop by to look at my cock, then to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure.”

  Ryn turned as he pulled on his T-shirt. “I talked to Maddie last night. I told her about Preston and the abuse.”

  “Good for you. How did she take it?”

  Ryn frowned. “She didn’t believe me. Preston beat me to it. Apparently two years ago he told her I went through a ‘mentally’ unstable time when she was younger. He even told her I tried to commit suicide by over-dosing on anti-depressants and when he tried to help me, I accused him of abusing me. He told her it was best to never mention it unless I brought it up to her.”

  Jackson pulled her into his arms.

  “It gets worse. Now that she doesn’t have to ‘worry about my reaction’ she’s given me this ridiculous ultimatum that I know her father is behind.”

  “Which is?”

  “She’s refusing to see me or talk to me again until I drop the restraining order against Preston.”

  He held her back at arms’ length. “But you’re not going to, right?”

  She shrugged. “She’s my daughter, my only child. I can’t just sever all ties with her.”

  “She thinks you’re lying about her father. He has her so fucking brainwashed it won’t matter what you do, she’ll never believe you. But giving into this is going to put you in danger and it will be like admitting you were lying or overreacting about the whole situation in the first place.”