by D. L. Wu
“Let me see your face,” he requested, hoping to make her more comfortable. “Look at me.”
He quickly glanced at her face to give her a once over. Turning back to face the road, he said, “I don't see any damage to your beautiful face. Does it hurt, then?”
She shook her head, a dreamy sigh escaping her. “Not anymore.”
“Can I ask you something, Darlin’?” he inquired, moments later.
She nodded. “Of course.”
He released a pent-up breath and said, “You had the perfect opportunity back there to end your whole ordeal with me, you know. You could have brought me down fast and hard, but you didn't. Rather than do so, you protected me instead. Why did you, Sweetheart?”
Jaime felt her heart hammer within her chest. She wasn't sure as to why she’d done it, but the maelstrom of feelings and sensations she was having since their first day together were muddling her senses and scrambling her common sense. Of that, she was sure.
Should she divulge to him what she was really feeling for him? Was it too soon? Should she wait and see how this 'relationship' evolved or if he really had more ominous plans for her? Yet if that was the case, if his intent was the least little bit nefarious, would he have so bravely fought for her? She felt so confused and wanted to break down and cry, but she found herself suppressing her tears.
Evan sensed her confliction and remained quiet. He preferred to let her think things through.
“I guess . . .” she replied, at last, after making the decision to lay her heart upon her sleeve for him to see. “You made me feel so safe when I needed it so desperately.” She took another deep breath to steady herself. “I felt safer with you than I've ever felt with anyone before.” Another moment of silence slipped by. “I mean I do feel safe with you. I don’t want to lose that . . . to lose you yet.”
Evan felt touched by her heart-rending admission as well as her concern. By doing the right thing in order to protect her, he’d inadvertently caused her feelings for him to progress further. There was no longer any doubt that she was helplessly in love with him.
He grasped her hand tightly and smiled sadly at her. “I have to protect you,” he said, hoping to make her understand that it was his duty to do so and not an act of love. “It's because of me that you're here. I couldn’t let you get raped. The guilt would kill me.”
She nodded, but he knew the message wasn't getting across to her as he’d intended it to. He sighed and flashed her one of his gorgeous and infamously flirty smiles. “You know what, Darlin'?” She shook her head, a wondrous expression spreading across her face. “I don't think we need the tape anymore.”
Was he saying that because he trusted her now or because she was so in love with him that it was unlikely that she would run away? Was he secretly hoping she would run away?
Jaime grinned broadly. A shy giggle burst from her lips. “Just when I was starting to enjoy it, too!” Evan burst into laughter. She giggled even more, pleased that she had made him laugh. “I'm serious!”
“I believe you,” he murmured with amusement.
CHAPTER 12
Overcast and dreary, George Johnson felt that the pouring rain appropriately matched the heavy hearted mood that surrounded him and his family. Jaime was missing. Almost three days had passed since she’d first gone missing. She hadn’t returned home from school that day and it was only now that the police department was officially declaring her a missing person.
George sat on the sofa in his living room full of anguish. His wife, Mary, tried to comfort him, but there wasn’t much that she could say or do to help. The little news the investigator’s brought him was very discouraging, and sometimes, downright scary. Mary found it hard to lie to him and say that everything would be all right.
The authorities had alerted them to the fact that a fugitive fleeing from a crime in New York City had been traced to the area. An abandoned car crash had been located about five miles from the high school. Witnesses had seen a girl matching Jaime’s description leaving the ice cream parlor near the school with a tall, dark-haired Caucasian male.
All evidence pointed to this man being one and the same. They were doing DNA typing of the blood found inside the car, hoping to match it up with hospital records. For the time being, the man’s identity was unknown and was still at large. An APB had been sent out to several of the nearby states as no one had seen him or Jaime since then.
While there was a possibility that Jaime was involved with the man, George was assured that the FBI was also on the case. Knowing that fact didn’t ease his fears at all. He sat on the sofa fretting nervously as his wife noticed that he was very close to tears, something she had not seen very often in her strong-willed husband.
“Mr. Johnson?” A new face materialized as the man approached the couple in order to introduce himself. The man held out his hand to George. George nervously obliged, standing up to shake his hand. “I’m special agent Marshall. I’m with the FBI and I’ll be handling your niece’s case. I just need to ask you a few questions about her,” he said, slipping into the nearest seat beside them. He met Mary’s eyes and nodded. “Mrs. Johnson.”
George nodded and scooted closer to his wife. “I’ve already told the police everything.”
“I’m sorry, Sir, but we’re a different department. Any information you can give me about your niece would expedite the chances of our finding her.”
“And of finding her safe, I hope?” George cried, slowly losing his cool.
“I’m almost certain it’s a possibility,” Agent Marshall replied with encouragement. “From what the NYPD has told me about this suspect, I don’t think he’s particularly dangerous. He was an accessory to murder, but he probably took your niece out of desperation because of the circumstances he now finds himself in. I want to believe that he won’t hurt her.”
“How can you know this?” George moaned with anxiety.
Agent Marshall smiled, his eyes glinting with a ruthlessness that belied his calm demeanor. “I’m a criminal profiler. That’s my job, to figure these guys out. I’ve already put in the APB to all police units in the surrounding areas about this man and the fact that he’s traveling with an innocent. I’ve made it clear that it’s a possible hostage situation so they know to handle everything with kid gloves.”
George sighed with relief. “That makes me feel a little better,” he whispered as Mary rubbed his arm for support.
“Your niece is how old again?” Marshall asked as he started his interrogation.
“Seventeen,” was their reply.
“And she’s never run away before this?”
“Of course not!” George cried.
“I’m sorry, but we have to look at every possible angle.”
“She’s a very mature and responsible teenager,” George defended angrily. “She wants to go to an Ivy League school when she graduates.”
“She’s a straight A student,” Mary added. “And she practically took care of her father before he passed. She cooked for him and did everything else as well!”
Marshall nodded, jotting notes into a small book.
“She’s so young,” George said in a shaky whisper. “She wanted more independence, but she’s still so naïve and vulnerable.”
Mary wound her arm tenderly about his shoulders. “This is not your fault. You can’t blame yourself, George. There’s no way you could’ve prevented this.”
“I could have driven her to school and picked her up, too. I asked her that morning, remember?” he agonized, his voice trembling with emotion. “I could have insisted on stricter rules with her! I promised my brother as he lay dying in his hospital bed that I would take care of her for him. Just look at what I’ve allowed to happen to her!”
George’s heart hammered painfully within his chest as he thought about Jaime. He wondered where she could be and if she was truly safe. Agent Marshall jotted down several additional notes into the pad and assured him and Mary that he’d be in touch with them soon.
Deep inside, he prayed that once he did so, he’d have some good news for them. Worry and exhaustion were starting to set in and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold them off. His only hope lay in the hands of the FBI and he prayed that they’d be able to bring Jaime home soon, safe and sound, once and for all.
***
Evan and Jaime found themselves in a newly secured motel room after buying more clothes and food. Jaime sat on the edge of the single full-sized bed that occupied the room, feeling secure in the knowledge that she was with Evan. An unexpected wave of happiness invaded every inch of her body.
She sat there admiring the flat black ballet style shoes she had purchased at the K-mart they’d stopped at earlier. The shoes weren’t a normal style for her as she normally wore sneakers, but something inside of her made her desire more feminine-looking shoes. She had found it fun in trying on shoes and helping Evan pick out new shirts. They’d stocked up on food as well and rather than going to a restaurant for dinner, they ate ready-made sandwiches that they’d picked up at a store.
Evan was just outside the door, once again smoking a cigarette. Jaime wasn’t particularly fond of that bad habit of his and she often wondered if she could ever help him to quit. Such a thing would mean that a special relationship existed between them and she knew they weren’t quite there yet.
Never-the-less, she wanted more than anything to be there for him when the time came. She found herself daydreaming about her eventual relationship with him every chance she had. Could a bond like that exist between us? she wondered. Could we be lovers someday? She knew he was a tad older than her, but the notion made her wonder if it was truly possible for something to take form between them. Suddenly, she had an idea.
Her eyes fell upon his wallet as it lay on the bedside table. She swung her legs around and scooted over to his side of the bed, keeping her eyes on the door the whole time. With his wallet in her hand, she hastily opened it and was immediately presented with his California driver’s license.
His picture was absolutely wonderful for a DMV taken photograph. He had a very cocky and handsome smile. It was almost a “stick it to the man” kind of smile. She could picture him giving the photographer the middle finger if he had been allowed to. She realized that he probably lived his whole life in that manner, thumbing his nose at authority. It explained as to why he didn’t seem all that distressed or anxious about his evasion from the law.
She noticed his birth date and found that he was almost ten years older than her. That fact filled her with anguish. He wouldn’t want a lover that much younger than him. Nor would he want her naiveté and inexperience, especially since he had, by his own admission, lots of lovers in the past.
She heard him enter and realized she’d been caught red-handed in looking through his wallet. A startled cry slid past her lips and her cheeks flushed with color as she looked up to find him standing nearby. To her surprise, she found that he wasn’t angry. Instead, a knowing smile was plastered across his lips.
“Lookin’ to rob me, me Darlin’? I’ve got e’en mo money in me jacket ‘ere,” he asked with an enhanced Cockney accent. He held his black leather jacket open to point to the inside pockets where he’d stashed more of his money. “Ye want a couple o bob then?”
She looked at him with amusement as she set his wallet back onto the table. “Actually, I was being nosy. I wanted to see how old you were,” she admitted.
“Quite a bit older than you, you noticed, huh?” He smiled as he slipped his jacket off. “That should definitely tell you something, my Sweet.”
She pressed herself against the headboard, smiling with intrigue. “What should it tell me, then?” she asked, intent on playing along.
Evan was hoping that she would take the hint. He placed his jacket on the back of a chair and took a second to make sure she hadn’t touched his gun. He’d stowed it inside the bedside table drawer earlier. Satisfied, he snapped the drawer closed.
“It should tell you . . .” he began slowly, not wanting to say what he had to say in so many words. He didn’t want to spell things out for her and risk bursting her bubble and thus, in turn, breaking her sweet heart. Instead, he took a more careful route and continued to drop hints. “That I’m an old man compared to you. At twenty-six years of age and with a hundred past lovers, I’m still not committing to any woman.” He made a deliberate reference to what they’d spoken about the other day.
She failed to grasp his meaning and he sighed with exasperation. “Twenty-six is not an old man!” she defended.
He laughed a little, disappointed by the fact that she wasn’t disillusioned by what he’d said. He now had two missions to fulfill with her. One was to make her believe that she hadn’t been kidnapped and that she had gone with him willingly. The second was to make her lose interest in him romantically. The latter one would prove to be much more daunting a task, he feared.
“Evan?” Jaime asked with curiosity. She wanted to know more about him and wondered if he would be willing to confide in her.
“Hmm?” he mumbled as he slipped his tee shirt over his head, exposing his bare chest to her view once again.
She found herself delighted at the sight. She observed his night-time ritual carefully, no longer embarrassed by the fact that he undressed himself in front of her as she watched his blue jeans slide down his beautiful legs. She remained quiet as she waited for him to sit down on his side of the bed. Evan stared at her upon doing so, taking note of the fact that she was struggling with the courage to continue with what she wanted to ask of him.
“Can you tell me now?” she beseeched, her voice barely a whisper.
A look of wonder crossed his face as their eyes met. “About why I’m running?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
She nodded slowly. “I think you trust me more now,” she said. “I mean, like with the tape and all. At least, I hope so.”
He sighed, unsure as to whether he really wanted to confide in her.
“I feel like . . .” she began again before he could contest it. “I feel like we’re spiritually a little bit closer after what happened today.” She laid her heart upon her sleeve with her admission. She wasn’t afraid to take that chance anymore. Nor did she want to worry about the chance that he would eventually do something that would hurt her.
“Yeah, we are,” he agreed. She was thrilled when he tenderly touched her hand. “We’re almost like soul mates, in some ways.”
She nodded, her heart pounding. “Soul mates,” she agreed. “I mean . . . I was ashamed at first . . . about what happened. About the fact that you saw me . . . in that way.”
“Naked?” He shrugged. “I didn’t really see anything to be honest,” he assured her. “I was so blinded by my anger for that kid that I didn’t see anything.”
Jaime shuddered. Surprisingly, his admission didn’t make her feel better. She wanted him to recognize her sexually. To want her and desire her. For some inexplicable reason, she was heartbroken by his words.
After a long, dissatisfied moment, she sighed. “Did you kill somebody?” she asked boldly.
She sensed his entire body language change at that given moment. He tensed at her speculation. Her heartbreak and her disappointment in him caused her to press on.
“Did you kill one of your lovers? Are you a serial killer or something horrible like that?”
If he is, why am I taunting him in such a way? she wondered. Why am I risking angering him?
She regarded him with veiled eyes. The anger she expected to see brewing within him didn’t materialize. Instead, she found him staring contemplatively at her.
“That sounds very romantic, but I’m sorry to let you down,” he said softly. “I’m not a modern day Jack the Ripper, but then . . . neither are you a prostitute.”
She gave him a confused look, not understanding what he was talking about. He was well aware of that fact, pleased to find that he wanted to keep her guessing.
“I’m not a killer,” he rep
lied. “Not to worry.”
She sighed and looked away.
“That’s a rather bizarre reaction to my telling you that I’m not a killer,” he mused. “You sound disappointed that I’m not.”
“Sometimes, I wish you were, to be honest,” she admitted. “You could put me out of my misery rather quickly if that were to be the case.”
Evan was a tad stunned by her statement. Was he reading her wrong all this time? Was she not falling in love with him? Did she still want out? “Let me try and get this sorted out,” he said with amazement. “You want me to kill you?”
She looked him directly in the eye then. “It would make everything easier for both of us.”
“How so?”
“You wouldn’t have to look after me anymore and I wouldn’t . . .” Before she could finish her sentence, she burst into tears. She pressed her hand against her mouth in hopes of holding in her sobs.
Filled with pity, Evan took a hold of her hand. “Tell me,” he pleaded.
She shook her head despondently, unable to utter a word because of her tears.
“I think I get you, Sweetheart,” he said with compassion. “You don’t have to be ashamed of the way you’re feeling. I won’t make fun of it. I understand.”
“Then, you tell me!” she cried.
“I think you’re feeling something for me.”
“Am I?”
He nodded with tenderness, attempting to cheer her up. There was nothing he wanted more than to see her smile. “And I totally understand why. I’m taking care of you. I was your knight-in-shining armor today. It’s understandable that you’re going to feel something for me because of that. And I’ll be totally honest with you. It’s a natural feeling to have, but it will pass, you’ll see.”
His words weren’t what she wanted to hear. Yet she knew that what she wanted to hear would never come from his lips. She was quite certain of that. With the pain of rejection wracking through her entire body, she jumped up from the bed. She pulled her hand free of his and quickly disappeared into the bathroom. She finally ‘got it,’ but why did it have to hurt her so?