by Jaycee Clark
No one would look at him that way.
No one.
He knew why they were doing it. What had she told them to make them give him such disdainful looks?
He’d find out.
He paced. He’d played it as if it were no big deal, that he must have gotten the days mixed up.
He’d had to go to dinner alone and make excuses for her.
She’d learn. She’d damn well learn.
She thought she’d go to med school. He’d taken care of that. He took care of her. He told her and showed her how things should and would be.
She’d taken the ring off and tried to give it back to him.
He’d snapped.
They never handed his gifts back.
He should have controlled himself better.
Because then she ran. Well, she ran after she’d tried to end it with him.
They never ended it with him.
He thought she was different.
She was different. He’d make certain of it. As soon as he found her.
He took a deep breath and set the drink on his desk. Running a hand down his tie, he knew what he would do, where he’d wait for her.
Then he’d bring her home where she belonged.
Chapter 6
Jock drove them into the city.
“Thank you for driving me home. You didn’t have to,” she said again.
He laced their fingers together. “I know I didn’t have to.” He glanced at her. “I wanted to.”
They’d talked half the night after she’d awakened him and he’d made love to her. Talking half the night until almost dawn, when he loved her again in the bedroom, then in the bath. Again this morning in the shower. They couldn’t get enough of each other.
They’d laughed over breakfasts yesterday and this morning. They’d spent all day yesterday and today together. Both nights. They’d gone back to the bluffs and she’d drawn and painted. He’d taken photos, though he told her the nudes would have to wait until they returned to the cabin. He wasn’t stripping outside, where anyone could come by. He had no idea if their photos would turn out or not, but he hoped so.
He’d kissed every freckle on her body.
He’d been her first. He couldn’t get over that.
He half expected the woman to try and sneak away after they’d made love.
But she hadn’t. Or she decided not to.
There for a moment last night he’d sworn she would. She’d eased from under his arm and sat on the edge of the bed. He’d watched her as she’d only looked out the window.
After a few minutes, she lay back down and snuggled in beside him. It might not be the time to tell her for a while, but Kaitie was his. He wasn’t about to let her go. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let some bastard scare her, let alone leave another bruise on her perfect body.
They’d spent the today together, and when she said she needed to get back to catch the bus—well, that wasn’t going to happen. They talked most of the way home.
He wasn’t putting his woman on a bus.
He hadn’t told her what he really thought last night. Or the night before. Or anytime in between. She wasn’t ready.
“So where do you live?”
“Near the hospital.”
He followed her directions, getting more irritated the closer they got to her apartment.
The brick building looked like it had been built in the twenties or thirties, and it was clearly within walking distance of the hospital. He could see it from here.
The area around it, though, he could tell it wasn’t safe.
“You ride the bus home?” There was a bus stop at the corner.
She shrugged. “Sometimes. If it’s been a hard shift, or if I’m just really tired. Or if it’s raining.”
He parked the car and turned to her.
“How long have you lived here?” he asked, trying to keep any censure out of his voice. Kaitie was defensive. Not always, not for the most part, or she hadn’t been the last couple of days. But he’d heard it before, the night of the gala, when they’d first run into each other at the lake.
She shrugged. “I don’t know, since I started here. My friend roomed with me until she married—the ones who let me use the cabin.”
He grabbed her bag out of the back.
“I can get it,” she said.
He leveled a look on her. “You could, but you’re not.”
She rolled her eyes. “Honestly. You’re way too bossy. I don’t like bossy men.”
He grunted and followed her in. There was a joke of a lock on the outer door. The interior wasn’t bad but had fallen into disrepair. Tiles were missing and broken, leaving dirt-filled pockmarks in the white-and-black floor. Paper peeled down the walls.
“Who owns this?”
Again she shrugged. “Don’t know. I just leave my rent check in the mailbox.” She motioned to the wall of mail slots. “I think whoever owned it first died and someone else does now? Nothing’s changed though. I don’t remember. I was working double shifts then, I think.”
He followed her up the stairs, noticed the railing gave slightly when he pushed against it.
“I’m on the second floor.” They made their way down the hallway and finally stopped at a door. Number twenty-five.
She turned back and said, “Want to come in?”
He looked from her to the door behind and back again. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but I’m wondering if that’s such a good idea.”
She turned to him fully.
Her brow arched. “Cold feet now?”
“Not me.” He sighed and stepped closer. “I won’t lie and say I wished we had waited, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.”
She just looked at him.
“I still think you need time. I want to come in.” He motioned to the door. “I don’t want you to stay here. One look and I can see it’s not—” He bit the words good enough back and said, “Safe enough. I need to know you’re safe. I want to take you home with me, but that would be rushing things and well—” He raked a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have said that. You don’t need me adding more pressure on you.”
A smile dimpled her cheek and spread to her eyes. “You’re a good man, Jock. I don’t regret last night, or the one before. I don’t regret any time I spent with you. Part of me wishes I could just pack up and leave all this mess behind, but I hate to quit. I hate for him to win.”
Him. They hadn’t really talked about the doctor this weekend. When he’d tried, she’d simply said she didn’t want to darken their time together. She didn’t say much about the doctor after that first day together.
He’d given her that.
Now, though, he wanted to know where the bastard lived. He glanced down the hallway. He knew the man worked at the same hospital as her. “Does he live here?”
“Landon?” Her laughter jerked his attention back to her. “Here?” More laughter. She shook her head. “Oh, no. He’d never live here. He hates it here. Hates coming here. Hates that I live here and not because of safety.”
With his hand at her waist, he pulled her closer. “Screw it. I don’t care if it’s smart or would be better to wait. Come away with me, Kaitie.”
She tilted her head.
“Offer still stands. You can run away with me, Kaitie.”
She smiled. “Even if I want to, I can’t.”
“Ah, so you want to.”
Her fingers played with the buttons on his shirt. “Maybe a little.”
“I could turn a little into a lot, but it’s up to you.”
“I know.” She frowned for a minute. “I just . . . for now, I’m going into work and I’ll figure out things from there.”
He smiled and kissed her. “I should let you go then, get some rest.”
“Yeah, I’ve got the night shift. Need to be there in a couple of hours.”
He nodded and forced himself to release her. “Be careful.”
“Always.�
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He stepped back. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve been living here for a couple of years now. I’ll think about what you said, about moving. About starting over.”
Good. Maybe he could convince her to move to D.C. sooner.
“I’ll be back up here next weekend, maybe before.”
“I thought you needed to go to New York?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “I’m the boss, I can sometimes do what I want.” He reached out and wove a strand of her coppery hair through his fingers. “You should get inside. I’m not convinced this place is very safe and someone could look out their door and decide you’re too good to pass up.”
She laughed. “I doubt that. Be careful on your drive back.”
He swiped a finger down her nose and tapped her chin. “You be careful. Call me if you need anything. If you need a place to stay, a safe place, go to the Highland Hotel here in Baltimore. Have them contact me and I’ll be here in an hour.”
“I’m not going to use a room. That would—”
Again he stepped closer, blocked her in with one hand on the wall beside her and the other on the door frame. “I’m serious, Kaitlyn. If you need a safe place, don’t run off to the cabin, it’s too isolated. If you can’t get to D.C., to me, then go to my hotel. I’ll alert the staff you get a suite and whatever else you want and not to let anyone near you.”
She scrunched her nose. “I really don’t think that’ll be necessary. He’ll get the point sooner or later.”
Jock wasn’t so sure. “Promise me.”
She sighed, her eyes narrowing and her fingers tapping on his chest. “I’ve mentioned how you’re bossy, haven’t I?”
“Promise me.” He shifted closer, a board creaking beneath him, giving slightly. He frowned at it, then looked back to her.
“Fine,” she sighed. Quietly, looking into his eyes, she said, “I promise if Dr. Dick, as you call him—and God help me that’s stuck in my head now—comes and gives me trouble, I’ll flee to the safety of your well-guarded fortress.”
“Fleeing to me? Will you flee to me this weekend?”
Her smile softened.
“Kaitie.”
“Fine. I’ll look forward to seeing you this weekend, unless I turn out to be the flavor of the week and you don’t show.”
“Flavor of the week?”
“You’re the playboy, so the rumor goes, and I did learn those rumors are to be believed.”
He leaned in and said softly against her lips, “I always said strawberry was my favorite.”
She laughed and kissed him back. He could feel her breathing quicken, knew they were close to going into the apartment and he’d forget about work.
He broke the kiss and pulled back, stepping away. “You have a phone?”
“Yes.” Kaitie leaned against the wall. “I gave you my number, so if you don’t phone . . . I’ll assume the less desirable rumors to be accurate as well.”
“I knew I had you where I needed you.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Wanting more of me.”
Her dimple winked at him, even as she tried to frown.
“Put my number by your phone, or memorize it so if you need me you can call me.” He kissed her again quickly. “Call me, no matter the time, if that bastard bothers you again. Hell, call me anyway.”
“You don’t get on the road, you won’t get home anytime soon.”
He really didn’t want to leave her. He reached up, cupped his hand on the back of her head and eased her toward him. “I’m going to miss your sharp tongue, though why, I’m not sure.”
“I remember why you liked my sharp tongue.”
He raised his brows.
“Keeps you on your toes.”
He smiled. “Or something.”
“Oh, the something’s my favorite.”
He laughed as he leaned over and kissed her quickly again, or he’d stay with her and never get back. “Get inside, beautiful.”
“So bossy.” She dug a key out of her purse and unlocked the door. He handed her her bags and she tossed them just inside the door.
“You should get inside before someone gets ideas,” he said, edging her back two steps until she stepped over her threshold, holding the door.
“Always so dramatic and bossy.”
He ignored that. “This weekend.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Me either, now get inside and lock the door.” He gave her a peck.
She huffed and he pulled the door closed.
“Lock it!” he said loudly.
The locks slid snug and he grinned. He patted the door. “Later, Kaitie lass.”
He took the stairs down fast and quickly climbed into his car, wishing she didn’t live here. Wishing he could just take her with him.
He made his way into traffic. He’d drop into the hotel here in Baltimore before he headed back to D.C.
Next weekend couldn’t come fast enough.
• • •
Kaitlyn heard two pats on the door, but also heard the muted thumps of Jock on the stairs.
She leaned her forehead against the door, grinning. Such a great getaway, magical. Bright and shining. Had she told him thank you for driving her back?
She quickly unlocked the door, opened it, but heard the downstairs door squeak shut.
Shaking her head, she again closed the door, her apartment shadowed and dark with the late day.
Flipping the locks again, she thought of what Jock had told her. So protective. So—
“Who was he?”
She froze, her gaze jerking to the far corner of the room, where her—
What the hell?
Her couch was there, but no other furniture other than a side table and lamp, the chair in the shadows.
She knew that voice, knew it all too well.
Jock was already gone, but she wished he wasn’t.
Kaitlyn stayed very, very still as the shadows from the corner shifted, uncurled, rose.
Light from the window slashed across Landon’s face, glinted off his blond locks.
“I’ve tried to be patient, but frankly, Katherine, I’m tired of waiting.”
He prowled closer and closer.
“I noticed when you locked the door you weren’t wearing my ring,” he said, his voice grinding across her nerves.
Her hands trembled. “Wh-where are my things? Where’s all my stuff?”
Her photos. She saw now there was a box on the counter and several on the floor.
“I had your things packed away.” He motioned to the couch. “You won’t need most of your belongings. They don’t really reflect you as my wife, do they? Thrift-store finds, yard sale items.” He stepped closer.
They were her things. Hers. She didn’t say that, though. She’d learned not to say what she was thinking with him.
“Where is your ring, Katherine?” he asked.
If only Jock hadn’t left. But he had. She knew he had, but maybe . . . maybe . . .
Kaitlyn turned and dashed to the door.
Her fingers fumbled with the locks even as he slammed into her, her head knocking hard against the door.
“I don’t think so, little whore,” he growled in her ear.
Kaitlyn whimpered.
“You are mine. It’s time you learned your place.” He whirled her around, his long fingers digging into her arm.
“I-I was afraid I’d-I’d lose the ring so I took it off, to keep it s-safe,” she tried.
He stepped back.
She took a careful breath. “And—”
“Who was he?” he asked, a muscle bunching in his jaw, his dark eyes glittering down at her.
Stupid, so stupid.
Run away with me, Kaitie.
She should have . . .
“No-no one. He’s no one, just a ride I caught back. I missed my bus.”
Before she could take another breath, he hit her, backhanding her hard.
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br /> She stumbled as the pain flashed into the side of her face. She would have fallen if he hadn’t clasped her arm.
He hit her again, this time across her mouth, and she stumbled against the door, grabbing the handle.
“Landon,” she tried, the copper of blood on her tongue.
“You are mine!” he hissed, raising his hand again. She’d never get out the door. Never get out . . .
She scanned the area.
A lamp still sat on a side table beside the sofa. A book was still on the table.
“Who was he?” he asked, reaching for her, but she darted around him.
“Leave me alone!” she yelled. “Get out!”
“No. You’re coming home with me and—”
“I’m not going with you, Landon.” She shouldn’t be talking. Her face hurt, her eye throbbing in time with her pulse.
“You need to tell me who you were with.” He stepped closer to her, blocking her way to the door.
Her bedroom? She looked down the hallway. Boxes were stacked against her door. Had he packed up the whole apartment?
“No one,” she answered, focusing back on him. “No one. I needed time to think, to see if you were right, if it was just cold feet.” She clasped her hands and eased backward even as he came forward. “We’re not right together, Landon. We’re just not.”
“I heard his voice, who were you with?” he asked again, still coming at her.
“No one,” she lied.
He lunged one way and she went the other, but her foot caught and she tripped over a box. Kaitlyn cried out and reached out to steady herself. Her elbow hit the table with the lamp. The table overturned and the lamp crashed to the floor, the bright pottery breaking.
He grabbed her, half pulled her up and hit her again. “Who. Was. He?”
“No one.” She held her hand up, but he just knocked it away, dropping her.
Her head hurt and she knew her eye would be black. Blood dripped off her chin and she realized her cheek was now bleeding as well.
She never saw him move before his foot connected with her ribs, kicking the breath from her.
She gasped, curling onto her side, trying to get away from him.
Kaitlyn grabbed the open box on the floor even as he kicked her again. Pain burst along her side, stealing her breath. Her hand gripped the edge of the stupid box.