by Stacey Lynn
I watched the two of them walk away to the sand pit, content to sit back and watch Logan playing with his dad for the very first time ever. It was absolutely perfect. I pushed back the sadness and the guilt, and for the first time in almost five years, watched with my own eyes – a scene I had envisioned from the moment I found out I was pregnant.
Hours later, after ice cream and Marcus asking Logan a gazillion questions about himself – to which Logan enthusiastically responded to - Marcus walked us back to our apartment. I was starting to worry since I hadn’t yet heard from Jack, even though I had sent him a text at the park letting him know we were still there. He never responded which was odd. No matter what he was doing, Jack had always responded to my texts since the very first date we had. He even sent me dirty messages in the middle of board meetings. To not get a reply from him at all worried me.
“Do you want to see my Legos?” Logan asked Marcus when we reached our building. Marcus smiled, but looked to me.
This was more than I had planned on. I figured after a few hours of playing at the park, and walking and having ice cream, Marcus would be eager to get home. Logan may be his son, but kids were exhausting when you weren’t used to them.
I looked at Logan, who was eagerly awaiting my answer. I couldn’t say no. Not when his hand had been firmly clasped in Marcus’s for the last two hours. He wasn’t ready to say good-bye to his dad yet and I didn’t blame him.
“Sure,” I said with a smile and looked at Marcus – relief flooding every feature on his face. “I’ll cook dinner while you guys play. You can stay if you want.”
“I want. Thank you.”
I led us into the apartment and shooed Logan in the direction of his room after instructing him for the five thousandth time to put away his shoes and hang up his jacket. Marcus watched him skip down the hall before turning to me.
“I’m not sure how to thank you enough for today.”
I brushed him off, although I was in awe how easy the day had gone. After the first few uncomfortable moments between the two of them, they had found their rhythm and by the time we left the park to get lunch, Logan and Marcus smiled and talked as if they’d known each other their entire lives. It was surreal and comfortable at the same time.
“It was the least I could do.”
He took a few steps towards me and I flinched when his hand came out and cupped my cheeks. I turned my eyes away from him, afraid of what I would see if I looked at him. Marcus sighed, but didn’t remove his hand.
“You didn’t have to do anything. And I don’t think I could blame you one bit if you never told me about him. But you did, and you have no idea how thankful I am right now.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and took a few steps back.
“I feel like we were the family today that I always wanted.”
I inhaled a quick breath and turned from him. For years, I kept hoping Marcus would someday walk back into our lives and all would be forgotten. A stupid naïve dream from a heartbroken young girl, but I wasn’t that young girl anymore, and it was happening before my own eyes. Except now I loved Jack, and I didn’t fully trust Marcus.
“Dad!” Logan yelled from down the hallway, growing impatient with Marcus’s delay in getting to the bedroom.
I smiled faintly. “You better go – your son wants you.”
“God that sounds so awesome.” He shook his head as he walked down the hallway. He turned back to me when he reached Logan’s room. “I meant what I said. This is what I’ve always wanted.”
I turned away without a word and stared lamely at my freezer, trying to find something I could defrost or cook for dinner. Except my mind wasn’t working properly. Instead it was flooded by memories of the day, the comments from Marcus about this being what he wanted, and my concerns for Jack.
I slammed the door shut, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and called for pizza.
After I ordered the pizzas, I sent another text to Jack letting him know I was back home with Logan and everything went well.
Not that it mattered, he never texted me back.
What in the hell was going on?
SEVENTEEN
I nervously entered Jack’s penthouse apartment the next morning. It had been a tough morning with Logan, me explaining to him why he couldn’t see Marcus again, and reassuring him several times that we could call him after work.
Then I received a text message from Marcus, thanking me again, for telling him about Logan. I flip-flopped between feeling happy that Logan finally got to meet his dad, and frustrated that Jack never called or replied to my messages from the day before.
“Jack?” I called out quietly as I shut his front door.
I was met with complete silence. I walked around his penthouse, looking for any sign that he was still at home, but found nothing. I frowned when I entered his bedroom and my heart started beating faster.
His bed was completely made. Jack never made his own bed, and if his bed was made, that meant that he didn’t come home the night before.
Worry filled me instantly. Something had to have kept him from calling me back, and something – or someone – kept him out all night long. I hated doubting him, especially after the prior weekend when he told me he loved me. Maybe it was too much for him? Maybe he realized that loving me was too dangerous or risky for him. Maybe he realized that feeling out of control around me wasn’t worth it anymore and he found someone else.
I sighed and closed the door to his bedroom. I would deal with my feelings about the cleanly made bed later, but I had to figure out where he was.
I chewed nervously on the outer corner of my thumbnail when I entered his office and sat down at his desk. I had bills to pay, but first I wanted to call Macy. Surely, she had heard from him.
I dialed her number from Jack’s office phone. She answered on the first ring, her voice breathless.
“Jack, thank god you’re finally calling. The phones have been ringing….”
“It’s me, Macy.”
“Emma? Have you talked to Jack today?” She sounded shocked and worried, and I immediately put all my doubts of Jack on hold.
“No. And I didn’t hear from him last night either.”
She gasped. “He didn’t check in with you after Marcus left? I would have thought he’d be babysitting your door waiting for him to leave.”
I shook my head and cringed when I chewed right through my thumbnail.
“Yeah, I know. When was the last time you talked to him?” I asked, although I had a fairly good idea, based on when I talked to him yesterday.
“He left work early yesterday, saying he had something come up, and I haven’t heard from him since. We have a board meeting in a few minutes and I needed him here like twenty minutes ago.”
I played with my hair and wrinkled my nose, trying to think of where he could possibly be. Who would he have met with yesterday, and who could it have been that he wouldn’t have told me or Macy about? And who could have kept him out all night? Instantly, I knew.
“Is Martin in?” I asked, light suddenly dawning on me.
Macy sighed. I could hear her frantically tapping her pencil against her desk through the phone line. “No, he’s not in either.”
“It’s okay. I think I know what they’re doing – can you transfer me to Martin’s private line?” If Jack wouldn’t answer me, maybe Martin would. At least now I had a pretty good idea of who they were helping.
Martin’s voicemail picked up immediately.
“Hey Mr. Crawlson. Macy and I haven’t heard from Jack since yesterday. I was just calling to make sure he’s okay and I have a pretty good idea that this has to deal with….B. Can you send me a text when you get a minute just so us girls stop worrying? Thanks.”
I didn’t know if Jack told Martin that I knew about his brother, but hopefully me using the nickname I remembered Jack using before when he called would be enough for Martin to understand.
I put my head in my hands and rested my elbows a
gainst Jack’s desk, sighing deeply. This wasn’t like him. There’s no way he would just skip work without letting anyone know. I don’t know if I had ever heard of him missing a day of work. And if something was going on with Brian, based on what Jack had told me about him before, then something could be really wrong.
Regardless, I still had work to do. I took a deep breath and began sorting through the pile of bills on Jack’s desk that needed to be paid. When I was done, I filed them away and tossed the envelopes into his garbage can.
I bent over to pick up a piece of crumpled paper and frowned. It wasn’t here yesterday when I vacuumed, so at some point Jack had come home. Slowly, I crumpled it and then gasped in surprise. It was a paper, bank withdrawal slip from the bank maintaining Jack’s personal account. Yesterday at four-thirty, based on the slip, he withdrew fifty thousand dollars. Cash.
I jumped when my cell phone went off and then felt defeated knowing it wasn’t Jack’s ringtone.
Reluctantly, I left Jack’s office with my phone in hand and headed to the kitchen.
Jack’s fine. Said he’d be home later. Surprised – happily – he told you about B. Martin
I wrinkled my nose but felt my shoulders relax. At least Martin knew where he was. It still didn’t explain why Jack hadn’t contacted me though.
I stared at the message when my phone starting ringing again and Macy’s name flashed on the screen.
“Yes?” I asked.
“I just wanted you to know Jack just got in, but he’s really pissed off and said he wasn’t staying long.” I cringed at Macy’s concerned voice that came out just above a whisper.
I exhaled heavily. “Thanks for letting me know. Talk to you later.”
By the time the afternoon hit, I was done worrying about Jack. Instead, I was just pissed off. He had to have known I was worried about him. He had to have also known that Macy and Martin told him I was looking for him, and I still hadn’t heard from him. Not even a single message saying when he’d be home from work, what he needed me to do, or if he even needed me for dinner.
I was packing up my bag for the day – early, because screw him – when he finally walked in the door. He looked perfectly polished in his tailored suit, but I could see tension in his face and dark circles under his eyes. Wherever he had been the night before, left him looking like crap.
“Enjoy your night?” I asked sarcastically and resisted the urge to shrink back from him when he scowled at me.
Jack was pissed. Tense all over, and clearly not in the mood for my sarcasm.
I crossed my arms in a defensive gesture. I was pissed and I wanted answers.
Seeing that I wasn’t going to get any, since Jack didn’t bother answering me, I turned and picked up my purse.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said and held my breath as I walked past him.
His hand reached out and firmly grabbed my elbow. “Where are you going?”
I spun around and shot him a look. “Excuse me?”
“I need you.” I recoiled at his voice. Jack always sounded confident and borderline arrogant, but lately, with me at least, he had been softer. This tone was nothing like anything I had heard from him before. He sounded cold and distant from me.
I hated it. I also hated that my body responded regardless of what my brain was thinking. I felt a warmth pool between my legs when I saw his arousal through his suit pants.
“Where were you?” I asked, trying to fight my attraction to him. I had a feeling I would lose, but it was still worth a shot.
Jack shook his head and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he looked less angry, but still just as distant. He said nothing, which gave me my answer. He wasn’t going to tell me anything.
“I saw the bank receipt from yesterday.”
His eyes flashed to black. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. “Were you snooping in my office?”
I snorted. “I paid your bills and it was on the floor. Sue me for cleaning up after your lazy ass.”
I tried to rip my arm away from him but he just held me tighter, and pulled me flushed to his body. I fought the urge to rock into him.
“I can’t tell you.” His voice left me certain that I wouldn’t get any answers. I didn’t actually need them, but an apology would at least have been nice. Based on the firm line on his lips, I doubt I’d get that either.
I exhaled heavily. “Fine,” I said and tried to relax into him just enough for him to let me go. He didn’t. As soon as I relaxed, he pulled me closer to him with his other hand and held me tightly.
He lowered his head against the top of mine and the muscles in his back relaxed. It wasn’t a lot, but enough to let me know he wasn’t going to explode in anger.
“I need you,” he roughly said against my ear. My entire body trembled under his touch as his hands moved to my hips.
He sounded angry, but vulnerable. I wanted to let him do what he did best and make love to me. I also wanted to knee him in the balls for being suck a prick.
I shook my head, determined to fight the intense attraction. “I’m not your sex toy when you’re pissed off at the world, Jack. Let me go.”
He didn’t relent. His nose tickled the soft skin on my jaw, down my neck to my collarbone, where he licked it softly. I moaned, but my head still tried to fight against what my body clearly wanted. He laughed softly.
“You know you want this. Let me give you this.”
My entire body involuntarily trembled. He had me and he knew it. And even as I leaned into his kiss, to his hand that was warm, but still didn’t feel quite right against my skin in that moment, I knew it was going to be a big mistake.
In what felt like a mere second, Jack had me picked up and was putting me back down at the back of his couch. He turned me away from him and placed my hands on the back of his couch.
He pulled my pants down and I stepped out of them. “Let your juices fall, Emma. Show me how much you fucking want me.”
I shivered at his words. I couldn’t deny it turned me on, but there was still something about Jack that was off. He wasn’t talking to me, or acting like he actually gave a crap about me and I felt too exposed with my bare ass pointing up in the air for him to see.
I heard his zipper go down and resisted the urge to tighten up again when his large, firm hands grabbed my hips. Without another warning, he thrust roughly into me.
I cried out from the harshness, but Jack made no move to apologize. My knuckles turned white as I grabbed onto the back of the couch. My feet rose up onto my toes with every thrust into me. He pushed so hard into me that I knew it would leave bruises, on the inside, and on my hips where he held me tightly.
“Jack!” I shouted. It hurt, and it felt so damn good at the same time. I wanted to be pissed, but the more he rocked into me, playing with my clit with his fingers, my body submitted while my brain was still three steps behind, still trying to figure out what was wrong with him.
“Come for me,” he demanded into my ears. He laid his entire chest over me and removed his hands from my body, placing them over my hands. I couldn’t move an inch to get him off of me. All I could do was take it.
I came, screaming in bliss and frustration, but if Jack noticed he didn’t care.
He pounded away, moaning, his chest sweating all over my back. He didn’t care about the tears that started to fall from my eyes and dripped onto his arms and hands. Wherever he was, he wasn’t with me. It scared me. Not because he hurt me, but because this wasn’t my Jack. Jack was powerful and bossy in bed, but he wasn’t this big of a prick, ever.
I wanted him to tell me what was wrong, not maul me to relieve stress and his anger.
Jack leaned off me, still pounding into me fiercely, and groaning in pleasure. He wrapped my hair around his hand and pulled me up a little bit, his other hand moving towards the front of me. He rubbed my clit fiercely with his free hand and my body responded again.
I felt another orgasm stir as Jack moved his hips in a circle.
&n
bsp; “That’s it baby,” he murmured into my ear.
He sounded evil, and I hated it. I hit another orgasm, and Jack thrust one more time into me, he moaned his released and dropped us against the back of the couch.
He didn’t even give me time to come down from the most anger-filled orgasm I ever had before he pulled out and zipped up his pants. With my legs still shaking, I embarrassingly, bent down and pulled up my pants, noticing he had destroyed my thong underwear in his haste to remove them.
I glowered at them in disgust before I stood up.
Jack was staring at me; his eyes void of every emotion. God, I wished I had the ability, but I didn’t.
I had never felt so furiously angry with anyone in my entire life. In that moment, I think I hated Jack more than I hated Senator Whitmore. He didn’t even blink as I wiped away the tears running down my cheeks. He put his hands in his pockets and just looked at me, expressionless.
Why? I didn’t do anything to him, and if he was busy with Brian, I had absolutely nothing to do with it.
Why did I even fucking care?
He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it.
“What?” I asked, my voice shaky.
We stared at each other for who knows how long and Jack’s expressionless face changed to sadness, just for a second before he closed off his emotions again. His hand ran roughly down the front of his face as if he was trying to wipe them away.
When he spoke again, he shattered me.
“You’re fired, Emma. Effective immediately.”
Before I knew what I was doing, the palm of my hand connected with Jack’s cheekbone. His head snapped to the left making a cracking sound and my palm instantly burned.
He rubbed his tongue across the inside of his cheek that I had just smacked, and still – he said nothing.
Asshole.
“You’re an asshole, Jack.”
As I turned to leave, I saw, what I thought was a flash of fear, or panic flicker through his eyes.
“Emma,” he said, his voice hoarse.