by Rachel Cade
“It’s safe to look now.”
He did and his gaze caught the dress briefly before looking up to her face.
“Come here.” She didn’t mean for her voice to sound so soft, and her skin prickled a bit when he stepped into the closet.
She pulled open a white drawer below her that displayed gold Lanvin stilettos.
*
Jack looked down to see his black Glock and silencer on a bed of frilly lingerie.
“I didn’t know where else to put it. I didn’t think I should leave it in the car with the blood and everything.”
He wasn’t really sure how to react and continued to stare down at it. A deep purple bra cup was crushed under the weight of the butt.
“Thanks,” he managed and reached for it carefully.
He was careful to keep it pointed away from them both as he unscrewed the silencer and removed the magazine and bullet in the chamber.
“Have you been alright? These past few days you’ve been through a lot.” Jack tucked the gun into his waistband and slipped the silencer and magazine into his front pocket.
“I’m fine.” She smiled. He thought it was odd and continued to look at her. It wasn’t long before it wavered, then completely disappeared.
She cleared her throat and he could tell she was uncomfortable.
“I wish I was fine,” she admitted lowly. “But I haven’t been sleeping so well.”
It was his fault and Jack hated himself for it. This chick was hiding guns and bloody cars because of him.
“It’s PTSD,” he said, barely moving his lips. “Post traumatic stress disorder.”
“Does it go away?”
“In time it should get better. Stop staying out here by yourself. You got family right?”
Ciara scoffed, “Oh do I.”
“Ya’ll don’t get along? You got a boyfriend or somethin’ then?” He was supposed to be comforting her but it didn’t reflect in his tone.
Ciara folded her arms. “No.”
Apprehension appeared on her face, but she spoke up anyway. “How would I be able to tell them what I’m feeling without explaining what happened?”
“Sometimes you don’t have to explain. You can just not be alone, I don’t know.”
“They wouldn’t understand. All they would do is yell at me. My dad would probably call the Commissioner or something.”
“Yell at you? You’re a grown woman.”
Her smile was slight. “How are your stitches?”
“Fine. We were talking about you though.”
“You should be resting. You never crossed me as the type interested in my drama.”
She was right. Not about the resting but the drama. He shouldn’t have been asking about her personal life. Especially after shutting her down earlier.
“You don’t like being out of your habitat,” she stated quietly. “It was just an observation. I won’t keep prying.” She closed the lace filled drawer and started scanning her shelves.
Even in his frustration with the current situation he had to wonder where the hell she was going in that dress. It was fitted to her despite not being zipped in the back, which he noticed while she moved around the room. The cream color contrasted nicely with the rich brown of her skin. Her ponytail slid over her shoulder in a heavy deep wave.
She literally looked like she’d just hopped off a magazine cover.
“Who was with you earlier? In the room when I woke up,” he clarified at her puzzled look.
“Oh, my friend Kim. We’ve known each other forever. Your secret’s safe. Trust me. Well, you don’t, but you should give it a shot.”
Jack glanced around. “So… this is your closet, huh? Looks like a store.”
“It does not.” She smiled a bit.
He felt like he belonged in the sweet-smelling space about as much as his gun did.
“You should stay here, Jack.” He raised his brows while she leaned forward to put on her shoes. The open back of her dress revealed the gentle curve of her spine as she moved. Then his gaze moved lower. “At least one more day so you can heal.”
The Jack had been in isolation too long. His body was currently reminding him. The palm of his hand itched to touch the exposed skin a few feet away from him. He had no fucking business wanting that. Nothing but trouble could come from it.
“I’m sorry - what?” He hadn’t heard a thing she said.
“I said I want you to stay.” She turned around as she spoke and offered him a smile. “I promise I won’t ask you anything else about your life. You helped me out when I was in danger, more than once. Let me finish returning the favor.”
Don’t, he kept repeating over in his head.
Confusion made his temples ache. He wondered if he should ask for more oxy or just handle the pain. On top of that, his dick was waking up, quickly.
Before he could say anything, he heard a low ringing sound.
Without a word, he turned and rushed out of the closet.
Back in his guest room, he realized his ears were right. Before he made it to the nightstand, Ciara was in the doorway.
“Jack, what’s-” Then he heard her gasp. “You had a phone? This whole time?”
Setting his jaw, he held his finger up at her to shut up.
“Jack,” the man said on the other line. “If you’re calling me, someone must have a gun to your head.”
“You know it,” he answered.
Chapter Six:
You Don’t Know Jack
“So what’s going on?”
Jack was in the bathroom, sitting on the side of the tub. “I got ambushed last night. Since I’m living off the grid, I’d like to know how that happened.”
“Shit. I could fuckin’ imagine.” Sam’s Brooklyn accent was just as thick as Jack remembered.
“I didn’t get a chance to handle the situation like I normally would.” Jack didn’t think Ciara was at the door listening, but just in case, he made sure he didn’t go into too much detail.
“Why’s that?”
Jack noticed a gold tray of scented candles on the corner of the bathtub. He could only shake his head briefly.
“I wasn’t alone.”
“Excuse me?” Sam was about to start his bullshit and Jack didn’t need to hear it. “Did you say you weren’t alone?”
“Sam, it wasn’t completely under my control, alright.”
“But you live for that isolation shit, though.”
“You in New York right now? I need a ride, and I only want to deal with people I can trust.”
“I’m touched that I’m still in what passes for your heart, Turner.”
He and Sam had been through a lot.
Too much.
“I’ll send you my location.”
“Got you. I’ll be there.”
*
Ciara was going to kick his ass.
And that was that.
Her front doorbell rang as she was finalizing the decision.
She came down the spiraling staircase in her heels and opened her front door to see her father.
“Baby girl, good morning.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead.
Dennis Kimball was in a dark gray polo shirt and white slacks. It was his golf day.
“Morning, Daddy.” She kept her voice even as she smiled up at him. Keeping her dad in the doorway was her top priority.
“Thought you were having lunch with Marcus. He mentioned you had to cancel, so I invited him to golf.”
She maintained her smile. “We rescheduled for next week. You know I wouldn’t be rude.”
“Of course you would.” Her father raised a brow. “You get it from your mother.”
Ciara sighed. “It’s not even midday, Dad, with the shade?”
He shrugged innocently and she forced a light laugh.
“Be nice to Marcus. He’ll be a good match for you.”
She nodded. “Of course, Daddy. I will.” She started to pull the door closed.
“Where’s yo
ur car?”
“Out for a tune up.” She responded quickly as he glanced toward her garage.
“I’ll have someone bring the Porsche over in case you go out, so you don’t have to walk.”
“So sweet.” Her father smiled and turned to walk away. “Enjoy your game.”
“Not unless I win!” he called back.
Ciara swiftly closed the door and locked it.
“That your old man?”
She whirled around to see Jack on the second floor, staring down at her over the white banister.
“I left you to have your private conversation, but you couldn’t return the favor?”
He had an intensity about him that he couldn’t help. Even in the huge space, his presence overwhelmed her house.
His eyes were sharp and gold across the distance between them. “I wasn’t listening. I barely heard his voice when I came out.”
Ciara planted her hands on her hips. “So you had a phone the whole time?”
He closed his eyes briefly before slowly starting down the stairs. “It was in a bag in a bush a mile from my house. I have it for emergencies.”
“I didn’t have an emergency?”
“My emergencies,” he corrected as he reached the bottom.
Ciara folded her arms and made her way over to him. “You can really be an asshole.”
“Accurate.”
“You never answered my question about staying another day.”
“You just called me an asshole.”
“So?”
Jack laughed shortly.
*
Dennis swung his golf club and held his position as the ball sailed through the air.
Marcus didn’t know much about the game but bought a new outfit for it. He felt like Tiger Woods standing on the expansive course. A private country club. No amount of money would have gotten him in here. It was all about the connections, fortunately he was a guest of Kimball’s
“My daughter is lovely, but at times she can be a bit whimsical. But she’ll make your date next week.”
“I hope so.”
Dennis glanced at him. “I expect she’ll be treated well by you.”
“Of course. A disrespect to your daughter is a disrespect to you.”
“She’s not going to tolerate any nonsense from you. She’ll end it.”
“Mr. Kimball, I’m well aware that dating your daughter is a privilege. I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up.”
As they walked to the next hole together Dennis shielded his eyes from the sun. “Golf is a game of patience and strategy.”
“I see. Thanks for taking the time to teach me and show me around the club.”
“Haven’t had anyone to show it to. One daughter, no sons. Sports really aren’t for women. They try to play but – they’ll never be as good.”
“Agreed.”
“Why are you messing around with this guy? An ex politician?”
Marcus listened in the backseat while his boy Jay spoke. He loved him like a brother, but he was still just too tied to the streets.
“We have to start branching out.”
“Branching out to what? I don’t like that old money bullshit.”
His head would have exploded if he knew he’d donated a hundred thousand dollars to his charity last week.
“What’s wrong with old money? Most of these dudes are just as scandalous as us. They just hide behind public perception. We need to just dip our toes in the water. See where it goes.”
“So who does this guy think you are, then? To let him take out his daughter?”
“He knows exactly who I am,” Marcus answered. “But he needs me.”
He didn’t like being stood up by Ciara. Not one bit.
But it was okay. He’d play the game.
*
“We’re having some more visitors today. It’s a photo shoot and I can’t reschedule it. We’ll be outside for the most part.”
He nodded absently as she mentioned it but two hours later he found himself watching her discreetly from his window. She was posing for a crew of people next to her in-ground pool in sunglasses and a green bikini.
A fucking model.
She of all people finds his place in the middle of the woods.
The photographs appeared to be classy. They even had a wind machine to help toss her hair while she posed. Everything about her was sinfully perfect. And she had this amazing ability to change her whole look. One minute she was a first lady, the next she was a Miami trophy wife; to the drop-dead gorgeous siren he was looking at now.
His attraction to her made him angry. Mostly because he couldn’t control it. No matter how much the rational part of his brain tried. They belonged in two different worlds that just happen to crash together one day. Now she was safe and back in her own world so there wasn’t a point to any of this.
His phone rang.
“Yeah?”
“I’m on my way, just running a little behind schedule. I’ll let you know when I’m over the state line. Everything okay over there on your end?”
They seemed to be taking a break. A woman came up to Ciara and began adjusting the tie on her hip and a man began reapplying her lipstick.
He was glad she was doing something to keep her mind occupied but how was she fine with people just touching her like that? The sun glittered against her skin and she raised her shades. Yet another person offered her a sip of water.
Then she laughed at something someone said and Jack’s eyes zeroed in on her breasts. Natural and round they jiggled a bit from her movement. That was all it took. Now he had a complete hard on pressing against his zipper.
“Yeah, man. I’m just peachy.”
*
“Dinner time! Are you hungry?”
Ciara set the takeout on the dining room table.
Jack tried to help her with the bag, but she wouldn’t allow it.
“Chinese?” he questioned at the aroma.
“Thai. I hope you don’t mind,” she explained as she started pulling the white boxes out of the paper bag.
“Smells good.”
He was standing on the opposite side of the table. The sight of him in her house was still so strange. “Did you want to grab a couple of glasses out of the kitchen?”
“You have, like, a thousand cabinets in there, but I finally found them,” he said a few minutes later when he returned.
“I would have gotten some beer for you, but I don’t think it’s good to mix with your medication.”
He set the glasses down on the table. “I have a ride coming to pick me up.”
“Oh,” she answered. “When?”
“Tonight.”
Then he wasn’t planning on taking her up on her offer. She expected as much. She was surprised he’d hung around this long.
“Okay,” she answered, setting napkins on the table. “You have time for dinner first, I hope?”
“Yeah,” Jack said before adding, “he hasn’t reached the state yet.”
She realized they needed plates, too, and got them herself.
They sat down to eat. Jack made himself a healthy plate and she noticed he seemed to be a big fan of the shrimp. She noticed him glancing at her chop sticks and was tempted to show him how to use them.
“Would you like to try a pair?”
Jack shook his head. “The fork’s doin’ fine. But thanks.”
“I just noticed you looking,” she said before going back to eating.
They ate the rest of the meal in silence. As with brunch, Jack had a healthy appetite. She supposed that went along with being so big. Sitting there with him made her realize this was the first time she’d eaten with someone in this house. Usually she always went out. It was kind of nice; strangely intimate.
After dinner was done Jack helped her clean up and they sat in the living room. He was on the single chair and she was on the couch. It got so quiet she swore she could hear a clock ticking despite not having one in the room.
“I was
raised out in the middle of nowhere,” Jack began suddenly. “I knew how to set a trip wire before I could spell my name. I learned how to shoot guns, hunt. My dad’s a survivalist, so he taught me how to be one.”
Ciara was shocked to hear anything about him, let alone his past. “A survivalist?”