by Abbott, Alex
“Aaaaah,” I sighed, settling back between the sheets.
I must have drifted off, then, for when the mists of sleep yielded, light was streaming in through the curtains, and the vague recollection of Jack spending part of the night with me had me smile at the sweet sensation of his body close to mine, for however brief a time.
Along with the pleasant memory came embarrassment. What was I thinking, almost throwing myself at Jack’s mercy like that? I didn’t even know the guy and here I’d been ready to make love to him.
I didn’t know who I was, but this much I knew: I was not that kind of girl.
Annoyed, I crept from between the sheets, and was rewarded with a splitting headache. Settling down again, I closed my eyes.
“Ouch.”
***
Jack heard the telltale sounds of Melanie emerging from the depths of slumber and smiled to himself. Up since six, he’d patiently waited for her to wake up, ready to serve breakfast and attend to her needs.
Last night, it was obvious, she’d also had needs. But those needs he’d not been willing to address. Not that he hadn’t wanted to. It had taken ever fiber of will power to resist the urges of his flesh. Even though he barely knew her, she’d already made an indelible impression on him, and what was more, on his body as well.
Though he could deny the attraction all he wanted, his body clearly was ready to consummate this newfound union without a care in the world.
He wanted her. Just being present in the same room as her, his cock had sprung to attention in a heartbeat, ready to plunder sweet Melanie. Simply another notch on his belt? He didn’t think so. Not while he had his strength. No matter how much he wanted her that way, he had to resist the urges of his flesh.
She was his guest. And what she needed more than anything was tender loving care so she could get well.
He’d stood outside her door for the longest time after breaking off what clearly was a moment of temporary insanity on both their parts, and when she’d started softly moaning and thrashing about in bed, he’d instinctively known she was exploring her pleasure without his help.
The sounds and memory of her body so close to his had enticed him to do something he hadn’t done since his teenage years. He’d taken his cock in hand and gotten off. Listening to her reaching the heights of ecstasy, it hadn’t taken him more than a minute to find release himself.
He’d soon cursed himself for behaving like a horny teenager and for ruining his Donald Duck pajama bottoms.
With an exasperated shake of the head, he’d returned to bed, vowing never to let the girl get under his skin like that again. Losing control like that had frankly scared the living daylights out of him…
Now he gently knocked on her door, and when her soft voice bade him entrance, he stepped inside.
“Hey, sleepyhead. How are you feeling today?”
She groaned in response. “Whatever Robert gave me yesterday? I need a double dose. My head is killing me.”
“Don’t worry, Mademoiselle. I have everything you need right here.”
“I know.”
He blushed when her eyes dropped to his crotch and pointedly rested there.
Oh, God. This was going to prove a lot harder than he’d anticipated.
Chapter 8
I tore my eyes away from Jack’s genitals, chastising myself all the while. What was happening to me! How did I suddenly turn into this wanton woman?
Though technically, since I was still suffering from amnesia, I had no way of knowing this wasn’t who I really was.
Oh, God. Was I some sort of loose woman? Some sultry seductress who couldn’t feel satisfied unless I had a man between my legs twenty-four seven?
I sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case.
And from the look on Jack’s face, it wasn’t what he’d bargained for either.
We stood staring at each other for a moment, both too stunned for speech, and were finally saved by the bell. Literally.
As the buzzer intruded upon our moment of awkwardness, Rufus darted toward the door and started hopping up and down, yapping all the while.
Jack frowned, seemingly annoyed.
“Were you expecting someone?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Robert said he’d drop in later today, and my dad, but other than that I cleared my schedule and told Kate, my secretary, I wouldn’t come in today.”
It reminded me to ask him what it was exactly that he did. And how he could afford a suite at the Carlton and a presumably posh pad in Paris.
“Better lock the door,” Jack said curtly.
The fear that had disappeared overnight abruptly reared its ugly head again. My eyes went wide. “You don’t think...”
“Better be safe than sorry.” He quickly closed the door, and I hurried over to lock it behind him.
Pressing my ear to the door, I listened intently. When no sound came, I started to assume that perhaps it’d been maintenance checking in to schedule cleaning.
Suddenly there was a loud banging sound, and I jerked back from the door. Another bang, and the splintering sound I recognized as a door being kicked in.
Oh, God. What was going on?
Then the loudest bang assaulted my ears, followed by a crash and excited voices roaring through the small space on the other side of my bedroom door.
Like I’d done the night before, I scrambled for the bed and disappeared underneath. Whoever was out there clearly didn’t have my or Jack’s well-being in mind.
Trembling, I waited for my own door to be knocked down and whoever meant me harm to come barging in.
The hollers and screams seemed to reach a fever pitch, and when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, a loud crack had me yelp out in fear. It had sounded like a gun shot going off!
Shuffling feet and angry shouts followed the blast, and finally silence ensued.
I waited breathlessly, and when a soft knock came, it was accompanied by the sweetest sound in the world. “Melanie? You can come out now. I drove them away. The police are on their way here now.”
I rolled from under the bed and raced for the door, only to fling it open and myself into Jack’s arms.
Sobbing against his chest, I didn’t dare ask what had happened until he finally released me, led me to a chair and told me to take a seat.
Only now did I see the devastation the visitors had wrought: the front door was attached to the jamb by a single hinge, and the coat rack had been torn from the wall and lay crashed on the floor, knickknacks and clothes strewn all across the vestibule.
Only now did I notice Jack was holding a gun. But what was more troubling was his face. A gash had appeared above his left eyebrow, and his cheekbone was bruised and bloodied. I gasped, and slung a hand to my chest.
“Jack! Are you hurt?”
He grinned. “I’m fine. You should see the other guy, though.”
“What happened?”
He scratched his scalp, then carried the gun to the living room and carefully placed it in a hidden drawer beneath the dining room table and closed it again. “I really can’t say. I think they were your mom and dad, but as we’ve already established they’re not really your mom and dad, it’s really a mystery who those people are.”
“Linda Soakes?”
“One and the same. And that goon who calls himself your father. I’m afraid I didn’t make a very good impression. I told them in so many words to buzz off, and I’m sorry to say it didn’t go over very well. The Soakes woman gave me a rather nasty kick to the shin, and when her husband saw it fit to use my face for batting practice, I decided enough was enough and brought out the heavy artillery.”
“Good thing you had that gun.”
“My dad always said it might come in handy one day and I’m glad to say the old man was right for a change. It seemed to give them pause, and when I trained the weapon on them instead of the ceiling, they decided to cut their visit short.”
“How did they find me?”
“A
fter we didn’t return from radiology yesterday, I assume they did some asking around, found out where I lived and decided to pop up for a quiet chat. Since Mrs Soakes was dressed in a maid’s uniform and Mr Soakes in a bellboy’s, I figure they must have raided the staff dressing room before showing up here unannounced.”
“Oh, Jack. You could have been killed.”
He gingerly touched the gash over his eye and winced a little. “Well, I’d like to say I’m a hard man to kill, but since I’m not Steven Seagal I probably shouldn’t.”
I can’t describe the feeling of extreme elation at seeing Jack safe and sound, and the courage it must have taken him to come to my defense, and the affection I’d already started feeling for this man easily quadrupled at that moment.
I wanted nothing more than to go over to him and dress his wounds, but a deferential knock on what was left of the front door startled us both.
Looking up, I saw it was Bill Rattner, directing puzzled glances at the devastation in both the room and on Jack’s face.
“Jack. Ran into a cop again?”
Jack’s face darkened. Whatever the story was between him and Bill, it was obvious there was no love lost.
“Jack was attacked by the people pretending to be my parents, Bill,” I said to stop the men from glowering at each other. “They came for me, and Jack drove them away, at the risk of his own life.”
This seemed to sober the policeman a great deal, for his expression changed to one of concern.
“The Soakes woman and the guy? They’re not your parents?”
I shook my head and he whistled between his teeth.
“The plot thickens, eh?”
“I think they must be the ones who kidnapped Melanie,” offered Jack. “There can be no other explanation for their behavior yesterday and today.”
Bill nodded, and walked into the room, then suddenly spun around and faced Jack. “I don’t trust you, Carter. So why don’t you start by explaining to me about your part in all of this, huh? Why the subterfuge? And why the hell did you abduct Melanie from the hospital?”
“Bill!” I cried, appalled. “Jack didn’t abduct me. I asked him to take me away from my so-called parents and he brought me here so he could protect me. If it hadn’t been for him, who knows what might have happened?”
Bill stood gazing at Jack with burning eyes, shaking his head as if he didn’t believe a word I said.
“I think it’s time to come clean, Carter. Tell us what the hell is going on here and I promise I’ll put in a good word for you with the judge.”
Jack narrowed his eyes to menacing slits and growled, “Why don’t you get it through your thick skull I’ve got nothing to do with this, Rattner?”
“Fat chance,” grumbled the policeman, hooking his thumbs inside his belt buckle and hoisting up his pants. He gestured to the door. “I think you better come down to the station. The both of you. I want to take your statements before you disappear on me again.”
“Don’t treat Melanie like a criminal, you bastard,” Jack spat. “Hasn’t she been through enough already? She needs to rest.”
Bill directed a cursory glance at me and I gave him a watery smile.
“Fair enough,” he grumbled. “I guess I can take your statements here.” He then wagged his finger in Jack’s face. “But the next time you call me an opprobrious name I’m arresting you for insulting a police officer, you jackass.”
“Opprobrious? What did you do, Bill? Swallow a crossword solver?”
“You’d be surprised. Now sit the hell down and tell me what the fuck happened.”
Chapter 9
Bill directed a sharp look at Jack, as if on the verge of accusing him of foul play. “Look. I did some digging myself, and what I found is that there’s no such person as Melanie Harper living on Pelican Street.”
Jack emitted an annoyed groan. “We’ve established that, Rattner. The only person claiming she’s Melanie is this Linda Soakes. Truth is, we have no clue as to her real identity.”
Bill’s eyes swiveled to Jack. “Oh, you’ve established that, have you?”
“Yes. We’ve been conducting our own investigation.”
I was surprised by this. Jack hadn’t told me he was looking into my ‘case’.
Bill punched the air with a stubby finger. “You know what I call this? Interfering with a police investigation. If I wanted to, I could haul your ass to jail right now.”
Jack dabbed at his eye with a cotton ball. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Bill’s face split into a wide grin. “Oh, I’d love it. Only catch? Your daddy would spring you from jail before I’d even started on the paperwork. Just like he did last time, remember?”
I’d just about had it with Bill’s veiled and unveiled threats so I rose from my seat. “What is it with you two? What is so important that rather than figure out what happened to me you’re at each other’s throats all the time?”
I’d spoken with some heat, and both Bill and Jack seemed surprised by my outburst.
Jack raised his hand. “It... happened a couple of years ago. I was young and foolish and...” He glanced at Bill, who sat nodding, his jaw working. “Perhaps you better do the honors, Rattner. I can tell you’re dying to.”
“Mister hothead over here endangered the lives of police officers all across the country with that stunt he pulled, that’s what happened. And if you think we’ve forgotten, dream on, asshole.”
I closed my eyes. “Just... the story, please?”
Bill grumbled something under his breath, and shifted his bulk before forging ahead. “Maybe you know this, or maybe you don’t, but Jack Carter is very much the son of his father. When Carter Sr wants something, he wants it now. Not tomorrow, not a week from now, but right this minute. So when Jack decided to throw a graduation party for his frat brothers, he thought it would be pretty neat to do so by setting fire to the police station.”
“That’s not entirely true now is it, Bill?”
“Oh, it’s true all right. Do you deny you practically burned down the Ixelles station house?”
Jack lowered his gaze. “Well...”
Bill grunted, “Exactly.”
“It was an accident. A prank.”
Bill turned to me. “He and his buddies bought all the fireworks they could lay their grubby little hands on, and built a giant bonfire outside the police station. Only trouble was, none of them knew how to handle the stuff. Half the rockets demolished police station windows, setting fire to the building, and the other half injured at least a dozen innocent passersby, none of whom, unfortunately, belonged to Jack’s merry band of bamboozled idiots.”
“We paid for all the damage,” intoned Jack morosely. “We built you a better, finer precinct.”
Bill ignored this. “Then when word got out that some young punks burned down our station house, assholes around the country decided to play copycat. Before we knew what hit us, riots broke out and looters demolished half a dozen buildings—”
“We repaid all the damage.”
“—and in the process injured eight police officers.”
“They all lived. Just some cuts and bruises.”
Bill didn’t seem to agree with this assessment, for he jerked his head around, and balled his hand into a fist, ready to slug Jack. Only the sight of the big welt on Jack’s cheek seemed to give him pause.
Jack looked pained. “What can I say? It was a long time ago. I was a young and stupid and made a major error of judgment. We tried to restore all the damage done. What more do you want from me?”
“Nothing,” spat Bill. “From your kind I want absolutely nothing.”
“My kind? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Rich leeches trampling on the little guy, taking what doesn’t belong to them…”
“Oh, so now you’re a socialist all of a sudden? That’s just great.”
I sighed. This argument had begun ages ago and would probably go on for eons more, so I decided to put a s
top to it before a slugfest ensued. “Guys, please. Could we first deal with the people calling themselves my parents?” I stared down Bill. “The ones who just broke in here and tried to take me? Again?”
This seemed to bring the policeman back to the here and now, and he coughed, looking a little flustered. “Yes. Right. Of course. You better tell me what happened.”
When Jack started to speak, he quickly interjected, “Not you, asshole. I want to hear the story from Melanie this time.”
“As you wish, Karl Marx.”
“Guys! Can’t you at least be civil? Is that really too much to ask?”
They both mumbled something that sounded like an apology, and I launched into my story of what happened that morning. Then Jack added a report he’d received from a detective called Tucker Jackson, and Bill, jotting it all down in some sort of hieroglyphics, finally decided to share his part of the story.
“You may or may not believe this,” he started, “but I think I might have a clue as to your identity, Melanie.”
Excitement was but one of the emotions this cryptic statement elicited in me. “You know who I am? Tell me!”
He held up his hand, his broad face revealing nothing. When Bill Rattner decided to join the force, the world of poker suffered a great loss.
“I don’t know who you are. Not exactly. I just know your Christian name starts with the letter V, and your home address is somewhere in... Paris.”
Chapter 10
“I don’t think it’s fair.”
“And I don’t think it’s safe.”
“But, Jack!”
“You saw what these people are capable of. They won’t stop until they’ve got their claws into you again.” He tilted his chin, something fierce in his eyes. “I vowed to keep you safe and that’s exactly what I’m doing. You’re not going to Paris until we find out what’s going on.”
“But—”