“Then why didn’t they find you and kill you?”
“Because then we’d know for sure it wasn’t FBI or CIA or any government department.”
“You mean any government department that goes on record. It could be some agency so far underground even the President doesn’t know about it.”
Jude smiles at me. “Looks like you’re becoming quite cynical, Miss Murphy.”
“Look at the company I keep,” I quip quickly.
“Touché.” He smirks. “Ronan is working on finding out who they were. But, they have firewalls like we’ve never seen before. They have gone to great lengths to hide who they are.”
“It doesn’t make sense, Jude. Why would someone give me this thing,” I point to my brain, meaning the visions I get, “and then go into hiding without trying to make contact with me? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe they’re watching from afar to see how you handle it, what you do with it. Maybe they’re waiting for something.”
“It doesn’t make sense at all. If they’re waiting for something, why try to take me a couple of weeks ago? Why not try again? They got in here successfully once, they could do it again. Who knows, maybe they’re listening and watching us right now. Maybe they know what we’re saying.”
“Impossible. I have this place swept every day.”
“Every day? Why? No one comes here, and you’re like a recluse.”
“There’s only a handful of people I trust. I have no idea when anyone might turn on me, so I have Ronan sweep for bugs.”
“And what if Ronan isn’t who he says he is?”
Jude throws his head back and laughs whole-heartedly. “Now you’re a comedian.”
“There’s only one truth I know, Jude. And that is, I have no idea what’s happening. I need to question everything, and everyone.”
“I can appreciate your way of thinking. You came from a world where you were only a spectator. Now that’s all changed.” I nod my head. Jude takes a moment, drinking from his coffee cup. “Ronan and I are working on possible theories of who it is. I’m exhausting every connection I have to find these people.”
“What if, what if . . .” Man, I don’t think he’s going to like what I have to say.
“No,” he says before I even get to finish.
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“I know, alright. I can tell by that look on your face. You’re ready to walk out of here and head into a situation in which you know they’ll be waiting for you. Like going to find Dallas. They’ll be watching Dallas.”
“If they were watching her, why didn’t they stop Enzo’s men from taking her?”
“Perhaps they were hoping for Dallas to lead them to you. Or maybe they knew Dallas was just a pawn. Someone they’re willing to sacrifice to get to the king, the major prize.”
“Ha,” I chuckle aloud. “It’s the queen who holds all the power. Without the queen, all the king can do is run around the board, his enemy always chasing him.” Shit, is that what I’m doing? Merely running, just waiting to be caught. “I have to find them, Jude.”
“We will. I promise you, Lexi, we’ll find them.”
“Either way, I have to make sure Dallas is no longer in danger. Either we find them, or . . .”
“There is no ‘or.’ We’ll find them.” He takes a deep breath, and I get lost in the ‘or.’ “Eat. You need to put some weight back on.”
I flip my head to the side to look at him. “Don’t you know you should never tell a woman she’s too fat or too thin? And yes, her ass always looks good in it. And no, you never say ‘you look good for your age.’” Jude laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. “And is this why there’s no Mrs. Jude around here?”
“There’s no Mrs. Jude, because no one’s ever kept my interest.” He then mumbles something under his breath I don’t quite catch.
“What was that?” I ask.
“I didn’t say nothing.” He stands from the table. “I have to talk to Ronan; will you be okay here?”
“Sure thing. I can always call Frank. Actually, why is he here so late? Shouldn’t he be home?”
“I’ve moved him in here permanently.”
What? “Why?”
He shrugs and looks out the back-glass doors. “Makes sense to have him here. And I can keep an eye on him.”
It’s obvious to me that Jude cares about Frank, although he’ll never admit it. “Okay,” I reply, not pushing on for more. He doesn’t need to say anything; I can tell.
“I’ll be back soon. If you need anything, call Frank to get it for you.”
He walks away, but I hear his footsteps reenter the kitchen. As I turn to see if he’s forgotten anything, he kisses my head, then leaves again.
“Miss Lexi, may I join you?” Frank asks suddenly appearing.
“Of course.” I push the plate away, now no longer hungry at all. I’ve picked at my food, but I’m not really hungry.
“Didn’t you like it?” He looks at the uneaten pancakes.
“I’m not really hungry. I am tired though.”
“You should go to bed. You’ve had a few very trying weeks.”
“If only you knew what’s been happening.” He gives me a half-smile, and it speaks volumes. He knows; he knows everything. He may only be the chef, but he’s the chef who hears everything and knows what’s going on.
Finishing off my juice, I stand and grab my plate. “I’ll do that.” Frank takes it from my hands and walks over to the sink. “You look tired, Miss Lexi. It’s best you rest.”
“Good night,” I say as I walk out of the kitchen.
When I get to my room, I brush my teeth, then climb into the bed. Turning the TV on, I flick through the channels until I find a chick flick. Lost in the world of the movie, I’m quickly brought back to reality when Jude enters my bedroom.
My eyes go to what he’s holding. It’s a briefcase.
The same briefcase I saw in the vision earlier.
“I-”
I hold my hand up to him. “Tell him thank you from me.”
Jude looks down at the briefcase, then back to me. “I will.” He pauses, watching me. “I won’t be long.”
I nod my head and smile. “I know,” I respond.
Once Jude leaves, I close my eyes and relax into the bed. The TV’s noise is on in the background, and my heart instantly cracks. I miss my Mom and Dad so much.
And now, they’re gone and I’ll never see them again.
The bed dips behind me, and someone gently runs their hand up and down my thigh. Turning, I see Jude, dressed in a suit, sitting on the bed. “Good morning,” he says, tilting his head to look at me.
“What time is it?” I sit up in bed and scrub my hands over my face then run them through my hair.
“I like your hair like that.” He points, and has a small chuckle to himself.
“Does it look bad?” trying to run my fingers through it, I’m met with definite knot resistance. “Don’t answer that question.”
“Your bruises are healing.” He reaches forward and is about to run his hand down my cheek, but pulls back.
“You don’t want me to see what you’re doing later?” Truthfully, I’m a little hurt. I’ve been back at Jude’s for three days, and he keeps kissing my head and hugging me.
Human touch is important. In this case, it keeps me sane. “Guilty. But for now, I’d like you to get up and get ready.”
I sigh and look down at the fluffy blanket on the bed. “I don’t really feel like doing anything. I’m kind of missing my parents.” I grab hold of the pillow next to me, hug it and sink back into the bed.
“You’ve been fairly miserable since you’ve been back. Not coming out to eat, lying in bed virtually all day. So I’m taking you out.” He stands from the bed and in one swoop, he rips the covers off me. “Get up, have a shower, and get ready. Frank’s making bacon and eggs for you.”
“Have you eaten?” I ask, still defiantly lying in the bed. I try
to pull the covers up again, but I lose the battle when Jude rips them clean off the bed and throws them toward the chair in the room.
“Nope, I’m waiting for you.”
Exhaling a deep breath, I curl up further into my pillow. “I’ll be there soon.” No, I won’t.
“No, you won’t.”
Damn him for being able to read me. “Yeah, I will. I promise. Go away, let me get dressed in peace.” I mean, let me go back to sleep.
The bed dips again, and I roll my eyes. “Not going anywhere, sweetheart. Get up. I’m waiting here until you’re ready.”
“Just . . . go away.”
“Nope. And if I have to pick you up and strip you to get you in the shower, then I’ll have no problem doing that.”
“Why does it sound like you’re smiling, and you’d take great pleasure in stripping my clothes off?”
He clears his throat, and the bed moves again. “Because I’d have a good time looking at you.”
This makes me smile. He’s so damn cheeky, and smug. “I’ll be out in a bit. Let me get ready.”
“I’ll wait. I’ll call for Frank to bring my coffee in here. FRANK!” he yells loudly.
“Hey, give the guy a break. He doesn’t need to be running after you all the time.”
“Oh, look who’s woken up with a backbone.” He smugly glares at me.
Anger rises inside me. “You did not just say that.” I sit up in bed.
Jude chuckles and crosses his left leg over his right one. “Sounds like I did. FRANK!” he calls again.
“Jesus, you’re a pain in the ass. Leave the poor guy alone. He does enough for you.”
“Then get up.”
“Ugh,” I grumble as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. “Go away, leave me in peace.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll leave you alone when you get in the shower.” He smells toward me. “Actually, when did you shower last?”
I smack him on the shoulder, and he moves his body with the shove. “Alright, alright. I get it. I have to get up. I’ll do it, but I’m doing it under protest.”
“Duly noted, and disregarded. Hurry up, because Frank will have breakfast ready soon.”
Standing to my feet, I head into the walk-in, grab clothes, and head toward the bathroom. Jude’s still in my bedroom, waiting for me. “Go away,” I call as I close the bathroom door.
“I’ll be here when you get out,” he yells back.
Ass.
“Where are you taking me, Jude? Is it work-related?”
He slides into the back of the car on the seat beside me. “No, it’s not. It’s somewhere I think you need to go.”
Ugh, great. He’s taking me to a shrink. “I’m not losing my mind,” I blurt.
He swings his head around to look at me. “I never said you were.” Judging by his body language, and the humor in his eyes, he finds my statement amusing.
“Then where are we going?” The car leaves the grounds, and I look out the window at the woodlands framing the road. Jude’s house is isolated, away from everything. I suppose it makes it more difficult for him to be found if he’s living in the wilderness.
“You’re not even listening.” He touches my leg, making me turn to peek at him over my shoulder. “What? You have that look on your face.”
“What look?” I ask.
“The one that says you’re thinking about something.”
“Huh?” I shrug my shoulders. “I’m not as transparent as you think I am.”
He coughs into his hand, which quickly becomes a laugh. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”
“You’re amused now.”
“Yep.” He smiles again.
This has me staring at him. His calm face and relaxed shoulders makes him look so much younger and freer. “Why are you still in this line of work, Jude?” Suddenly his face changes. His jaw jerks tight, and he narrows his eyes. He takes in a deep breath, then he exhales it slowly.
“It’s not something I want to talk about,” he says after a long, silent moment.
“But, there’s got to be a reason. I mean,” I gesture around the beautiful, expensive car we’re riding in, “clearly you have enough money. I’d go as far to say you probably don’t need to work another day in your life.”
“I don’t,” he answers candidly.
“So, why do it then? Why continue. It’s obviously not about the money.”
“I’ve told you before, it’s about the power.”
I shake my head and turn to look at the passing landscapes. “Let’s go with that.” I smile, because I’ve thrown his words back at him.
“You don’t believe me?”
“Yeah, I do,” my voice has a higher than usual pitch.
He grumbles and turns his body toward me. “It’s the one thing I’m good at.”
“You’re good at illegal activities?”
“I’m good at hurting people, and I enjoy it. The rest is a bonus.” He doesn’t bat an eyelid when he speaks. He’s so matter-of-fact about it that it shocks me. “I have influence, and I’m known. The power is intoxicating.”
“But you’re not a good guy,” I blurt out, not being able to stop myself.
“Have I done anything to you?” He lifts his hand to scrub over his chin. The act is innocent, but damn sexy.
“Well, let’s see. You kidnapped me.”
“Semantics.” He waves the same hand dismissively.
“You held me against my will.”
“In the past,” he quips.
“And . . .”
“Really there’s no ‘and.’ I may have technically kidnapped you, but I’ve always protected you and made sure you were looked after.” I tilt my head down at him as if to say, ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ “Other than when Enzo got to you, but even then, I didn’t stop looking for you.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Jude.”
“We’re going to find who gave you your power.”
“What happens once we find them? Once they take it out of me? What if they can’t take it out of me? What if I can never get rid of it? Do you know how dangerous this is? If they can’t take it out—whoever they are ‒ then there’s really no other choice than to destroy me.”
“You’re not going to die. I won’t let it happen.”
“Jude, let’s be serious here for one minute.” I hold up a finger to indicate one, then point it at him.
“I’ve never been anything but serious when it comes to you, Lexi.”
More questions arise from his statement, but those questions can wait for another time. “Jude,” I huff in annoyance.
“Lexi,” he mimics me.
“I’m serious. What I have is untapped potential. I’m getting stronger every day, with every vision I have I’m able to control it more. I don’t know how far this can go. What if I can have visions without even touching people? Do you even realize what this could mean? The possibilities . . . the power.”
He reaches for my hand, but pulls back at the last moment and places it on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Then we’ll figure it out together. I promise you, Lexi, I won’t let anyone get anywhere near you again.” He pauses and smiles at me. “How do you feel about being microchipped? That way, I can keep an eye on you at all times and I’ll know where you are.”
The question is ludicrous, and his tone is even more ridiculous. “Should I wag my tail and let you scratch me behind the ear?”
He laughs but his face splits back into seriousness. “Is that a flat-out no? Or are you willing to negotiate?”
“Negotiate? As in you can microchip my ass but not my neck? Or would you prefer the microchip to be in my tooth? The answer is no to microchipping. I’m not going to stray,” I add with an obvious eye roll.
“Got it, no microchipping. Then, my negotiation is a panic button and a body guard.” Grinding my teeth together, I turn to avoid him. “Good, no resistance.”
“You’re misreading my silence for compliance.”
“It’s to keep you safe.”
“And the bodyguard will have a gun, right?”
He laughs again. And him finding what I’m saying amusing is beginning to grate on my nerves. “All my men have guns, so the answer is yes.”
“I’m struggling with everything going on. Can we drop this conversation?”
He squeezes my thigh again. “For now, yes we can.”
Bringing my arm up to the rest, I lean my elbow on it and balance my chin on my closed fist. For now, what an ass. He’s going to bring this up again, and I need to be prepared with an argument as to why I shouldn’t have a panic button and a bodyguard.
But in reality, maybe I really should have them.
Ugh, I don’t know.
What a mess.
Closing my eyes, I try and push myself out of the headspace I’m in. I wish I had someone I could talk to about all this stuff. How I feel about it all, how I hate having people in danger all the time because of me.
Jude’s lifestyle is already a dangerous one, but how does he do what he does and still sleep at night? The thought of Dallas hurting again, makes my stomach churn with worry. Guilt is pulsing strongly as I try to come to terms with everything.
“We’re here,” Jude announces.
Looking out the window, we’re in front of a vault in a cemetery. Realization rapidly dawns on me.
We’re here to see my parents.
“Jude,” I say as I turn to look at him, tears stinging my eyes, my body shaking. “You brought me to see my parents.”
“I did.” He leaves the car, and walks around to my side. As I pull the handle he opens the door from the other side.
Swinging my legs out, the jitters overtake me and make my hands tremble. “Do I look okay?” I ask as I try in vain to fix my hair.
“You look beautiful.” He holds his hand out to me.
My throat constricts and I blink like crazy to keep the tears at bay. I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry.
“Lexi?” Jude urges me with his offered hand.
“Yeah,” I mumble. I grab his hand, and notice there’s no vision. He looks down to where our hands are joined, then to me. “No vision,” I reaffirm his unasked question.
The Curse: The Butterfly Effect, Book 2. Page 9