The Jack & Jill Series

by Ann, Jewel E

  Jackson stepped inside and shut the door without a single glance back at Preston.

  “You let the man, who put you in the hospital, into your house?”

  “It was the only way to get him to leave.” She hugged herself to ward off the chill from the door being open so long and the icy wave of anger that radiated off Jackson.

  “What the hell do you have that dog for?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That dog has a name and you know it.”

  “That dog should be feasting on the corpse of your ex-husband right now.”

  “Stop calling him—”

  “What?” Jackson shoved her against the wall and covered her mouth with his hand.

  Gunner growled.

  “That dog is growling at me, Ryn.”

  Her heart pumped so fast all she could hear was its pounding pulse.

  “But he’s not attacking me. Why is that?”

  She blinked and struggled to get out of his hold.

  “Do something, Ryn. Knee me in the groin. Bite my hand and tell Gunner to attack me. But stop being the fucking victim. Stop inviting the enemy into your house.”

  Tears stung her eyes and when she blinked they spilled over.

  “DO IT!”

  Her body fell limp. Jackson removed his hand and grabbed her as she released her first sob. He just yelled at her. He scared her. He made her cry. Despite all of that … she clung to him.

  “I hate him … I hate him so much for breaking me.”

  Jackson leaned against the wall and slid down it with Ryn hugged to his body.

  “He … he took everything.”

  “I’m going to give it back to you—all of it.” He took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “Baby, you have an attack dog that won’t attack. What the hell?”

  Ryn sniffled. “Gunner doesn’t do anything without my command, including that.”

  “But you didn’t say it.”

  Anger remained in Jackson’s voice. Ryn flinched. Old habits.

  “I’m afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  She blinked out more tears. “Everything. You don’t understand. I lived like a prisoner in my own home for so many years. I couldn’t get up from the table without permission. My hair, my weight, my clothes, my exercise routine, my friends … they were all controlled by Preston. His verbal abuse did so much more damage than the physical abuse. I became anorexic, stopped having my periods, and eventually ended up in the hospital because I kept having fainting spells.”

  After all those years the pain felt as raw as the day it happened. “Preston had to come home from a business trip to ‘deal’ with me. They discharged me two days later, and he bashed my head into the dash before we left the parking lot. He said that’s what I deserved for ruining his trip.” She shook her head. “He bled every ounce of self-esteem from me. I don’t want to be this way. I hate that I don’t have a shred of confidence. Inside … I have so much anger, so much hatred, but the fear is so crippling I can’t do anything with it, so it just festers and eats me alive.”

  *

  Holding Ryn was like holding an egg with a dozen cracks. Jackson knew he could never completely mend her. He could give her the self-defense skills to fight off a small army, but he couldn’t make her use them any more than she could give Gunner the go ahead to attack her enemy.

  Brushing his thumbs over her tear-stained cheeks, he smiled. “So Vera Wang and Ed Sheeran?”

  Her laugh came out as a half sob. “Don’t … you can’t possibly still want—”

  “You. I want you, Ryn. I know you’ve lost so much of yourself … maybe so much that you don’t know where you belong in this cruel world. But I do. You belong with me.”

  “My God, that was …”

  “A better line than swimming in your pond?”

  Ryn laughed. Jackson smiled back at the forty-year-old with freckles and innocent blue eyes. She was truly beautiful in every way. He knew he would destroy anyone who ever tried to take that smile away again.

  “Jackson Knight, I’d marry you in a paper bag, with a boom box playing Boyz II Men.”

  “What’s a boom box and Boyz to who?”

  She grabbed his hair, yanking his head an inch away from hers. “Knock that shit off.”

  Perfect. The woman who feared everything, dominated the heart of a killer. What were the chances?

  Jackson surrendered the final inch, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry for what I did to you,” he whispered.

  Her hands released his hair and slid to his cheeks.

  “I didn’t understand, but now I do. I’ll protect you. I promise.”

  “What you said to Preston … you wouldn’t really kill him, would you?”

  They danced around his past, giving him ample opportunities to tell her everything. Telling her would break the rules—G.A.I.L’s rules. Members weren’t allowed to share that information unless they were married. It was ridiculous. What kind of wedding gift was that? A marriage certificate didn’t buy the kind of loyalty and trust required to keep G.A.I.L hidden. Yet, somehow they’d managed to keep everyone silenced for years. Jackson knew their tactics were rarely worthy of “Guardian Angel” status.

  “Ryn …” he whispered.

  “Tell me. Would you kill him?”

  “Yes.”

  Jerking back, her gaze bored into his, searching for truth. For the first time in his life, he wanted someone—Ryn—to see that truth.

  Yes. The ultimate truth. A drop-all-weapons-hands-up surrender to only the second woman in his life for whom he would lie down and die for.

  She swallowed hard, choking on that one little word. Jackson didn’t blink. He kept his eyes trained to hers because in spite of the number of lives his hands had taken … he didn’t regret one.

  He knew her next question before it passed her lips.

  “Aside from AJ … have you ever killed anyone?”

  As sure as he knew her question, the intensity in her eyes said she knew his answer.

  “Yes.”

  Did she see him? Really see him?

  Her eyes closed. Jackson said nothing. All he could do was wait for her to open them again and pray they’d look at him the same. Love him the same. Accept him … accept Jude.

  “I don’t want to know.” She shook her head. “I-I can’t handle it.”

  “Ryn?”

  Fluttering open, her eyes focused on his chin, his chest, his arms … but she didn’t look him in the eye. “The answer is yes. I fear it will always be yes.”

  What was the question?

  When those blue eyes met his again, he couldn’t read them. Was the sparkle in them the beginning of unshed tears or the light of life drawing him from the darkness?

  “You want to know if I still love you.”

  More than the secret to life.

  “The answer is yes,” she whispered.

  “But?”

  Ryn slid her thumb along his bottom lip before pressing a soft kiss to it. She smiled. It held more pain than pleasure, but nonetheless it was a smile. “No buts.”

  He should have felt better—relieved—but he didn’t. What was that? Unconditional love? Jackson told him to take it and run without ever looking back. Jude? He wanted Ryn to love him too, but he wanted her to know everything first. Jude had always been too biblical for his own good. The need to confess his sins to Ryn and cleanse his conscience would cut Jackson off at the knees, preventing him from ever running from his past again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jones

  Gabe turned on his burner phone when the plane touched down in Omaha. He left his personal phone with Luke so he could text Kelly at least once a day on his behalf. On his way to the rental car counter he texted Luke’s burner phone to remind him to do just that.

  He lied to Kelly about his fake meeting. She trusted him and he never gave her any reason not to until that point. Somewhere between Luke’s unbelievable story about his abduction, Jessica no
t dying, and his plan to get her back, he’d convinced himself if ever it was okay to lie to his wife that was the time.

  It didn’t take him long to get his rental car from the airport and drive to Peaceful Woods. A fresh layer of snow blanketed the ground, but the streets were plowed and dusted with a salt and sand mixture. After parking along the side of the street at the entrance, double and triple checking that he had the correct address, he continued into the development. Not even schools had as many speed bumps as the short private drive that he traveled to get to the home of one Aric James Monaghan.

  Gabe spent the entire flight thinking of what he would say if he saw Jessica, but he landed in Omaha without a single word figured out. What if she wasn’t there? What if Aric Monaghan answered the door?

  The sun signed off for the day on his way there. Most all of the houses had their front lights illuminating their driveways, except Aric’s. Gabe squinted to see the house number embedded into the brick front. The black windows indicated the likeliness of anyone being home to be about zero.

  He called Luke.

  “You found her?”

  “Not yet. I’m parked in Aric Monaghan’s driveway. It doesn’t look like anyone is home.”

  “Check.”

  Gabe grinned. “Brilliant idea.”

  “Well then, why are you calling me if you haven’t checked yet?”

  “To make sure you texted Kelly. Why are you so on edge?”

  “Because I’m fucking anxious. I’m dying here!”

  Luke out of control was rarer than a UFO sighting.

  “What if you’re putting her in danger by tracking her down … by having me track her down? If she’s in some kind of witness protection thing, I’m not sure her past is her friend. You’re her past, Luke.”

  Gabe waited then looked at his screen. “You still there?”

  “I’m not going to put her in danger. I just need to know that she’s okay.”

  Even with Luke’s attempt to sound resolute and sincere, Gabe knew his friend too well. Luke would never be able to go on with his life if she were alive and not with him.

  “I’m worried about you, buddy. She’s with another guy. It can’t end well.”

  “The guy who took me said the man Jess was with has cancer. If she …” Luke’s voice cracked.

  Gabe flinched.

  “If she cares about him and he dies … I fear she could too. It’s too much for her. I know things about her that would make you shudder. Just trust me … we’re saving her.”

  “What if she runs? If she knows she’s been found, she could run.”

  “Call me … when you find her …. I want you to call me and hand her the phone. Okay?”

  “K. I’m going to the door. Wish me luck.”

  “Gabe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you. You’re my best friend and you’re getting ready to be a dad. I feel like such a prick for asking you to risk yourself for me. I should tell you to just turn around and get your ass back home to Kelly, but …”

  “But she’s your whole damn world. I get it. I get it better than anyone. I’ve always thought of you as family, Jessica too. Let’s get her back.”

  The line went dead after a few seconds. Gabe frowned at his phone. He thought of Kelly and then he imagined her missing, then he climbed out of the car with steadfast purpose.

  After a dozen or so knocks and incessant ringing of the doorbell, he concluded nobody was home, but for good measure he added a few more rings and raps against the cold glass storm door.

  “Can I help you?”

  Gabe turned to the sound of a woman’s voice. An elderly lady stood on her front stoop wrapped in a fluffy robe and boots. Holding up a friendly hand as if to say “I come in peace” he crossed the street.

  “I’m looking for Aric Monaghan.”

  The woman’s friendly smile faded. “Young man, can I ask your name?”

  “Um … Andy.”

  “Are you a friend?”

  “Actually, I’m a friend of his … girlfriend.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, you know Jillian?”

  Jillian? “Yes. We go way back. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen her. I wanted to surprise her.”

  “Well I’d tell you to try her house, but she’s out of town. I take it you haven’t talked with Jackson.”

  Gabe shoved his hands into his pockets to ward off the cold breeze. “Jackson?”

  “Her brother.”

  “Oh, yeah … I wasn’t close to him, just Jillian. Sorry I’d forgotten his name.” Gabe couldn’t help but grin a bit. Jessica and Jude had become Jack and Jill—brilliant.

  She nodded behind him. “They live in the unit next to Sarge’s. But we saw Jackson leaving earlier to go to his lady friend’s house. She recently got her sex toy order from Jillian’s party at my house, so I don’t expect him back for quite some time if you know what I mean.” She winked, an awkward wink, but Gabe was pretty sure it was still a wink. “Any who, he walked over to her house. Said it was too dangerous to drive. Crazy guy. I assume you’re from New York too? Surely you all see as much snow as we do.”

  No. He wasn’t from New York and neither were Jillian and Jackson. They were all from San Francisco. That explained Jackson’s apprehension over driving in snow.

  “Sex toys?”

  “Come on in, honey. It’s too cold to have this conversation outside. I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Are you a marshmallow guy?”

  Gabe smiled. He was a red-eye guy—black coffee with a double shot of expresso. “Sounds perfect, thank you.”

  *

  Waiting for Gabe to call left Luke on the verge of committing himself. The woman who came to him for reasons of insanity had him flirting with it himself. After three Heineken, he tore his hands from his mussed hair to answer the phone. It had to be her. How could he be so stupid to drown himself in alcohol before giving the speech of his life? It didn’t matter. Just the thought of her made the world fall away. The time between hearing of her death and seeing her in Texas was the longest fucking single heartbeat ever.

  He was ready to breathe again.

  “Jessica?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Gabe.” Luke deflated as his hand grabbed for his hair again. Tears stung his eyes.

  “She wasn’t home and neither was Sarge. However, I talked with her neighbor for over an hour, a Greta Housby. Quite possibly the funniest and most interesting lady I have ever had the pleasure of talking to. But … she didn’t have good news. I’m not sure what you want me to do now.”

  “Who is Sarge?”

  “Sorry. AJ, Aric James Monaghan. They called him Sarge because he was a Senior Master Sergeant, career air force.

  “Called? Was?”

  Gabe sighed. “He died on Thanksgiving.”

  “Where is she?”

  “They don’t know. She flew to Portland for the funeral. Jackson told them she wasn’t coming home right away. Apparently she needed time alone.”

  “Jackson?”

  “Sorry. You’re never going to believe this … Jude is alive too. They live in the townhouse next to AJ’s. She’s a consultant for Lascivio. Have you heard of that?”

  “No.”

  “Sex toys. She sells sexy toys and he teaches piano lessons.” Gabe laughed. “And that’s not the best part. Jessica and Jude Day are now Jackson and Jillian Knight. Jack and Jill.”

  Luke closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “Do you want me to stay and talk to Jude … Jackson?”

  “No. I mean … fuck! I don’t know. Who’d you say you were?”

  “An old friend of Jessica’s or Jillian’s.”

  “I’m sure the neighbor lady will tell Jude someone was asking about them, which could cause them to disappear again. But he’s not the most stable guy and he could snap your neck so fast you’d never see it coming.”

  “He knows me, he’s not going to kill me.”

  “Something tells me he would to keep
his sister safe.”

  Jessica had a conscience. He never got the chance to make a definitive assessment of Jude’s stability.

  “You’re not helping. What am I supposed to do?”

  Luke flopped back on the couch and stared at the shadows on the ceiling. “God, I didn’t think this through enough and I’m … I’ve had too much to drink.”

  Gabe chuckled. “How about I leave a burner phone with your burner phone number on it by their front door. He probably won’t be back until tomorrow anyway. He’s at Ryn’s.”

  “And Ryn is?”

  “His girlfriend.”

  “Try again. Jude doesn’t do the girlfriend thing.”

  “Well this Jackson guy apparently does. Greta said she’s older by ten years and ‘utterly adorable.’”

  “Now, do you want to know more about ‘Jillian’ and AJ or shall I wait until you’re completely drunk?”

  The chances of Luke ever being drunk enough to handle hearing about Jessica with some other guy? Nil.

  “Leave the phone and my number then get your ass home to Kelly before we both get caught.”

  “I’ll get a flight out tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Gabe.”

  “Luke?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’ll find her.”

  He nodded to himself then pressed End.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Knight

  Hunger.

  Jillian awoke with her stomach churning. Time vanished, leaving her lost for any sense of how long she’d been in the dungeon—for sure longer than she’d been with Claire. If she made it out alive, the house would be permanently leveled. No one would ever suffer in that basement again.

  “I’m going to break your nose with this steel pipe, but not until we have an audience.”

  Only part of Jillian’s body had feeling after sitting in the same spot for … days? The parts that still registered life, throbbed with a dull ache: shoulder, head, back. Her groggy eyes shifted to her captor in her chair, black and blue face, nose taped, and a three-foot steel pipe resting in her hands. The maggots multiplied in the bowl of dog food. The stench roiled her stomach even more.

  “What’s your name?”

  Psycho bitch laughed. “Does it matter?”