by Ann, Jewel E
“We’ll do face-down ass-up another day.” She winked, blowing him a kiss as she headed toward the door.
Jackson forced out a hard breath after the door clicked shut. He needed to run ten miles, burn out every muscle group, and figure out a way to tell Ryn everything.
Chapter Eight
Jones
Only one thing remained for Luke to do in his lifetime: find Jessica. Even if it took a hundred lifetimes, he would never stop looking for her.
On his way to meet Gabe for a jog, he ran into Charlie in the lobby of his building. The timing could not have been worse. His list of fires to extinguish included a sincere apology to her, just not at that exact moment.
“Luke, hi.” The forgiveness in Charlie’s smile twisted the growing knot of guilt in his stomach.
Charlie was kind and genuine, a real catch for any man. Luke wasn’t any man. He belonged to Jessica and she belonged to him. Not even death could change something as certain as that.
“Charlie, this … God, this is the worst time for me, but—”
“Are you okay?” The touch of her hand on his arm continued to feed the guilt monster. “My God, I was so worried about you.”
There was no easy way to tell her he didn’t have time for more than a five-second explanation of his behavior that seemed to be carefully monitored by people willing to kill to keep their identities protected. The I-was-abducted-by-aliens explanation seemed like a bad choice, but it really was as close to the truth as he could get.
“I owe you an apology the size of the state in which I abandoned you, but I’m meeting someone in a few minutes.”
Her shoulders turned inward as she looked at her feet.
“There’s nothing I can say to make what happened okay. I can’t even explain it myself. I just …”
“You got cold feet.” She looked up at him with blue eyes and long dark lashes that matched the color of her chin-length hair.
He had to be an asshole, but not by choice. Honesty put too many lives at risk. Had he not seen Jessica, Luke would have taken the next step with Charlie, an enormous step away from his past and the woman who should have been his wife.
“Yes. I got cold feet. My past won’t let me go. I’m so sorry. If you hate me, I wouldn’t blame you.”
Charlie blinked away her tears. “If she was as wonderful as you remember, she’d want you to move on.”
Luke returned a slow nod as Charlie leaned up and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. Every instinct told him to pull back, but it was a goodbye and she deserved that.
“I hope she lets you live your life someday.” Charlie walked out of his building and his life.
Taking time to sort out his feelings about her and what he could have said differently was not a luxury he had with Gabe waiting. He jogged to Pier Three where Gabe stood with a what-took-you-so-long look distorting his face.
“Heard you went MIA.” Gabe met Luke’s pace.
“I need a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
Luke picked up the speed, making sure they weren’t being followed. “The kind that could get me killed if anyone finds out.”
Gabe laughed. Luke did not.
“Shit. You’re serious?”
“I need you to go to Texas for me.”
“Luke, you’re not making any sense—” Gabe rested a hand on Luke’s shoulder.
“Keep jogging. If we stop, someone could hear us.”
“What are you talking about?”
He sounded crazy. That couldn’t be helped. Gabe was his only choice. The only person he could trust.
“Jess is alive.”
“Luke, buddy … what’s going on with you? She died. We were all at the funeral.”
“I saw her in Houston.”
“Sometimes we see people or things we want to see. You, better than anyone, know how the mind works.”
“It was her. Blond hair. Too thin. But it was her. She saw me too, for all of ten seconds before I was hauled off, injected with a sedative, and interrogated by some psycho.”
“What the fuck?”
“It’s a long story, and I don’t know half of it, but she’s alive, Gabe. These people, they’re watching me and they’ve threatened to kill me and my family if I try to find her or tell anyone. But for Christ’s sake … I saw her. I can’t pretend she’s dead.”
“So you want me to go to Texas to find her?”
“I need you to get a flight to someplace within driving distance. I don’t want you to fly directly to Houston. It would be a red flag. The hotel I stayed at in Houston … you need to do whatever it takes to see security footage of when I saw Jessica. You’ll see me in a line at the concierge’s desk around seven-thirty in the morning. Jessica was the second person in front of me. Blond hair in a bun. Make them retrace the footage to see what room she was in. Find out what name was on the room and any other contact information.”
“What if they won’t show me?”
“They will. Everyone has a price. Figure out what it is and I’ll pay it.” Luke stopped, his breath too labored to say much more. Hunched over, he rested his hands on his knees. “You can’t say a word to anyone, not even Kelly. Just make up some business trip excuse.”
“What if they don’t have footage of her coming out of her room?”
Luke shook his head, not wanting to think about that real possibility. “I don’t know, but it’s all I have right now.”
*
Two days and two burner phones later, Luke went back to work while Gabe flew to Dallas then made the two-and-a-half hour drive to Houston. Dr. Jones had a full schedule and not a brain cell left to devote to his patients. Only Jessica.
Finding her without anyone dying in the process required Dr. Jones to get back to work, giving the appearance of resuming his normal life. Jones got his usual walk with Luke around Fort Funston, and Lake came over for dinner.
“I talked to Charlie today. She said you ended it. What the hell, Luke?”
He set two bowls of lobster bisque on the table and sat down across from her, draping his napkin over his right leg. “I shouldn’t have stood her up in Houston.”
“No, you shouldn’t have dumped her in the lobby. Please tell me this isn’t about Jessica.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated? How can it be complicated? I get it. Jessica was the love of your life and what happened was tragic, but it’s time to let go.”
“How’s your love life?”
With an eye roll, Lake smirked. “Nice diversion. It’s not the same thing. You lost your fiancée, I lost my boyfriend and my leg. I have yet to find a guy that thinks my bionic leg is sexy. I’ll probably die a virgin.”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “Mom caught you having sex in one of the guest rooms.”
“You know what I mean. It’s just an expression.”
“It’s really not.” He sipped a spoonful of soup.
“Why can’t you let her go yet?” Lake tapped her spoon on the edge of her bowl. Tap. Tap. Tap. Waiting for Luke’s answer.
“I guess I still can’t believe she’s gone. There’s a certain amount of closure that comes from seeing the body. We never got to see her body.”
“I know what you mean. When I came out of my coma to the news of both Ben and Jessica’s deaths, I couldn’t wrap my head around it. It’s like you spend the rest of your life waiting for that last goodbye.”
Luke never said goodbye. He didn’t want to say goodbye, and he didn’t care that God gave him 84,600 seconds in a day—he didn’t want to say thank you for taking her away.
Jessica. Period.
Luke wanted his life back.
“What happened with Charlie in Houston was terrible on my part. I like her … a lot.”
“But she’s not Jessica.”
Luke nodded.
“So you’re just going to spend the rest of your life pining after someone you can never be with?”
He shrugged. “For now. I di
dn’t get to marry her, but my heart is still married to the memories I have of her.”
“Luke I’m—”
“Don’t. It’s not your fault.”
“My accident was on the morning of your wedding day.”
Luke reached across the table, squeezing her hand. “And when Jessica found out, she ran to find me, ripped off her veil, and drove me to the hospital.”
Lake blinked back her tears. “I miss her too, ya know? But I also miss my brother. I miss the man you were with her. She made you normal.” Lake smiled.
Luke chuckled. No one in his family ever knew Jessica’s whole story. Despite the irony in his sister’s statement, she was right. He found the best possible version of himself with Jessica. She gave him a life.
A life he wanted back.
*
The vibrating buzz of Luke’s burner phone brought him out of a light sleep a few minutes shy of midnight.
“What did you find?”
Gabe chuckled. “Not how much of your money did I have to spend?”
“Fuck the money. Tell me.”
“I saw the tapes, man. You were right. My God … it was her.”
“No shit. The room, Gabe. Whose name was on the room?”
“An Aric J. Monaghan. Omaha, Nebraska address.”
“Message it to me.”
“You can’t go. You said it yourself. It’s not safe.”
“Well I can’t not go. She’s there. I have to—”
“I’ll go. You stay put. I’ll get a flight out in the morning. Kelly thinks I’m going to be gone for another couple days anyway. Don’t be stupid and risk yourself or your family. Nobody will be looking for me. Besides, if she’s with some other guy, I’m not sure you showing up unannounced is the best idea. In fact, if she’s with some other guy, I’m not sure why you’re even pursuing this.”
The muscles in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. “Just send me the address.”
“I just told you—”
“I’m not going anywhere, but if your wife doesn’t know where you are going, I think I should.”
“Good point. I’ll send it and call you when I know more.”
“Gabe?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
Chapter Nine
Knight
Held hostage in a constant groggy state, the lines between Jillian’s dreams and reality blurred. Time became indistinguishable. Had she been there days or weeks?
“Good morning, sunshine. I’m done running my errands, so I eased up on your sedative. Your food is attracting maggots. That’s not going to taste good when you eat it. And believe me … you will eat it.”
“Go to hell.” The words scraped across Jillian’s throat like sandpaper.
“You first.” Psycho bitch cackled.
She peeled her eyes open. A shiver erupted in bumps along her skin, a welcome contrast to the oven.
“What the fuck?”
“I thought the zip ties were poetic given our location, but I had a devil of a time trying to get the IV in with your hands tied behind your back. Or are you questioning what’s beneath your bare ass? That would be your own piss. Now that I’m sure brings back memories, huh? Freaky, isn’t it? G.A.I.L. insisted on knowing everything about your kidnapping. They needed every little detail to assess your mental state. It didn’t take long for them to conclude your psyche was irreversibly damaged.”
The duct tape securing her arms to her body didn’t allow an inch of movement. A mottling of bruises covered her forearm from her elbow to her wrist. In the middle, an impaled IV needle was taped in place.
“Your whole I-don’t-care-if-I-die attitude is not acceptable. You don’t have to eat yet, but I can’t have you dying of dehydration before the fun even begins. Getting the IV and saline was the easy part. Following the YouTube instructions for inserting it … not as easy. No worries. I swabbed your skin good with alcohol. Or did I? Hmm … I just can’t remember. But let’s face it. The puncture wound on your shoulder and the nasty cut on your hand aren’t looking too good right now, so I highly doubt my little IV experiment will make much of a difference at this point.”
Psycho bitch maintained her usual spot in her chair under a lone hanging light bulb, wearing a wicked grin matched only by Satan himself. The gleam in her eyes expressed her pleasure as Jillian glanced up to take notice of her—specifically what she wore.
“You like?” Her smile grew, exposing her crooked teeth.
Jillian focused on that instead of her military fatigues and boots—big, repeated-blows-to-the-ribs boots.
“It’s funny how you fooled everyone into thinking you were cured—normal. Your near-wedding nuptials had everyone fooled. Jessica Day found love and was going to live happily ever after with her Prince Charming. But the second you became Jillian Knight, your true personality came out again. How do you explain your fascination with fucking your neighbor? And not just any neighbor. Sergeant Monaghan. Was it the camouflage? The boots? Or just your need to be a total whore again? Because that’s what you are. Like mother like daughter.”
It didn’t take long to figure out her game. Psycho Bitch had no intention of physically torturing Jillian. It was all about the mind games. The ache in her heart from the mention of both Luke and AJ had to be ignored. Jillian knew her captor waited for her to break. She would wait a long time. The memories of Luke and AJ only made her stronger.
“Who was your husband?”
She sighed. “We’ll get to that before too much longer. He’ll be joining us. Then we can really get all the details.” Fake-nailed fingers combed through her red, wet hair.
She showered while Jillian slept in her own piss. That alone set her apart from Four. He didn’t shower. Drugs. Alcohol. Cutting. That was it.
“I haven’t decided on all the party guests quite yet. You, of course, are the guest of honor. Jackson should join us too. Don’t you think? Maybe I can have a piano hauled down here and he can play the Doomsday music. After I fuck him, of course. He is unquestionably the best sex I’ve ever had. Your brother knows what he’s doing.” Another cackle escaped her lips that were too big for her face. “The crazy part is he didn’t even know who I was when he fucked me against the locked bathroom door of the club.”
An inward grimace tugged at Jillian’s stomach that was already eating itself alive. She hated the reminder of Jude and his past. A past she never fully understood. Jessica had an explanation for her behavior. Jude never did, or so she always assumed.
“This has really turned into a family affair, hasn’t it? You, Sunny, and my husband. Jackson and I. Maybe I should have gone after your father too. He would have been a harder sell because he actually loved your mom. I think. It’s hard to say. I mean … the man married a woman who was in love with another man. He had to know she didn’t love him. Then again, she was pregnant with his babies. I guess he thought she’d eventually love him the way he loved her.”
The tape cut into Jillian’s skin as she tugged against it. Psycho Bitch would die for saying that to her. A lie. It had to be a lie. The foundation for which she had worked so hard to build her sanity, her life with Luke, was the desire to find a love like her parents’. The devil before her kept crashing into that foundation, leaving Jillian on the edge of collapsing.
“I’m getting ahead of myself. We’ll finish that later. Now where was I?” She tapped her fake nail on her lip. “Oh, yes, Luke. I think he should definitely join us. I heard he and Agent McGraw had quite the run-in after your brief reunion in Houston.”
“You’re going to die. I will sacrifice my own life to make it happen. But I swear to God if you lay a finger on Luke, I will kill you so fucking slowly you’ll regret the first breath you ever took.”
“Ha! That’s … wow. Please don’t swear to God. Not until you’ve repented your sins.”
She wasn’t without a few cracks of her own. Jillian could almost feel the race of her captor’s pulse. As much as she tried to wield her int
elligence as the ultimate weapon, Jillian made her nervous. No amount of intelligence could overcome fear.
“I’m going to cut off your lying tongue and make you swallow it. Then I’m going to carve every Bible quote you sent me into your skin. If you repent, I’ll show mercy and cut your heart out first. If you don’t, I’ll dissect your body, leaving your heart for last.”
Psycho Bitch cleared her throat, breaking eye contact first. “I think I gave you too much sedative. It’s messing with your perception of reality. One of us is restrained with duct tape the other is not.”
“Then you’d better kill me before I show you my Houdini trick.”
“I think we’re done talking.” Psycho Bitch stood, fists clenched a moment before snatching a syringe off the table and charging towards Jillian. Her hands fumbled the cap, each breath shallow and labored.
“You can’t even look me in the eye. I don’t think you have what it takes to kill someone.”
The jittery, wheezing woman paused. The syringe tip just millimeters away from the IV line.
The mouse inched closer to the trap. “I can and will kill—FUCK!” Blood flowed like striking oil as her captor covered her broken nose, tumbling backward on to her butt.
Jillian dismissed the instant headache she gave herself and the blood trickling down to her own nose and into the corner of her eye. The satisfaction of seeing the bitch curled up on her side, moaning like a woman in labor, was worth it.
“I’ve dealt with broken noses before. Why don’t you let me take a look, sweetie?”
A growl interrupted the moaning as she glared at Jillian over the hand covering her nose. Staggering to her feet, she stumbled hunch-backed to a table and grabbed something off it before heading toward the stairs.
The familiar puffing sound followed by the slow exhale was the last thing Jillian heard before the slam of a door. An inhaler. That’s what she grabbed from the table. Psycho Bitch had asthma.
Luke was right. Monsters were weak. Survivors were strong. Jillian was a survivor.