Unspoken Words (Hope and a Future Book 1)

by Janna Halterman

  Evelyn nodded once more and allowed the officer…she should have listened better to his name…help her into the chair. Honest to his word, he left her side as soon as she was seated. Somehow she knew he’d been a kind man.

  As the other officers turned to leave with Tom, Jackson’s parting words drifted almost too quietly to her ears.

  “I told you what would happen. If you so much as look at her again, you won’t have the luxury of walking away.”

  The cold hatred in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

  Chapter 16

  Evelyn watched Jackson as he came in and closed the door behind him, her eyes refusing to break away. She wanted to memorize this man who had rescued her. His hands. His arms. His chest and shoulders. His face. He was so capable at everything. Tom, who was powerful and practiced in hurting people, never stood a chance against him. Jackson was the embodiment of strength.

  With every deeply-drawn breath, Jackson’s body relaxed a little more. He was still tight, still tense, but under control now.

  “Thank you, Jackson.” Evelyn shook her head. “I wish I knew how to better say it.” Thank you didn’t begin to express what she felt toward him.

  Jackson remained standing by the door. “How are you?”

  Evelyn tried to smile, but it felt more like a frown. “I’m fine,” she lied again. Because of him, she was safe, but the feeling of powerlessness and horror lingered. She could still feel Tom’s hands on her, his mouth on her neck. She was not fine.

  “George said he wanted me to take a second look at your head.”

  She nodded her head in agreement, but only a little because she was slowly becoming aware to the pain pulsating through it.

  Jackson moved slowly toward her, not knowing if his own touch would frighten her. He knelt at her side, noting the dilation of her pupils at his approach. If not for her tattered clothes and disheveled hair, she would have the appearance that everything was as she said, fine. But as she sat perfectly straight, her hands shook as they mindlessly fiddled with the fabric of her skirt, giving light to her emotions.

  “Do you trust me not to hurt you?” He needed her assurance before he laid a hand on her. She swallowed harder than she nodded, but he’d take it. He slowly began his exam of her, checking her head and looking at the bruising already beginning to show on her face. “Did he…” he paused to collect his thoughts and suppress his boiling rage. “Did he hurt you in any way before I got here, that I should know about? Or that you’d need a doctor for?”

  Her paled skin assured him she knew what he was asking. He thanked God when she shook her head.

  He wanted desperately to hold her and tell her it was over, that everything was okay, but he worried his touch, any man’s touch, was the last thing she wanted. He’d made his mind up about something, though, and he knew she would be opposed to it. “I need you to pack whatever things you’ll need to get you through to whenever Bekah and Sarah return.”

  Evelyn didn’t want to be here, but where else would she go? “I’ve already explained to you, I have nowhere else to go.”

  “You can’t stay here,” Jackson stated. His tone softened, but his eyes remained adamant. “I’m taking you to my parents’ home. We’ll stay with them until I know you won’t be alone here anymore. I would have you stay at my house, because it’s closer, but I know you wouldn’t allow it.”

  Evelyn was taken aback by his plan. What was he thinking? Who was she to him that he’d take her to his family’s house? Who was he to even suggest it? “I can’t just go and impose on your parents, Jackson. Tom is in a cell; he won’t be able to bother me. I’ll be fine here.”

  “Then you’d rather stay at my house?”

  “No! I can’t stay with you, and I can’t stay with your family either!” She had never yelled at him before and wasn’t sure why she was yelling now.

  Jackson walked to the couch and sat down, wiping the sweat from his palms on his knees. The adrenaline was beginning to clear out of his veins, and it left him feeling nervous, weak, and desperate. “You don’t understand. I can’t leave you here. I won’t. It would be unbearable for me, not knowing if you were okay. And I know you don’t want to be here alone, so please do not lie to me and say that you do.”

  Evelyn was trying to make sense of her situation. There had to be a solution that didn’t involve her imposing on him or his family.

  “Please,” he was begging. “Please come with me, Evelyn. We don’t have much time. I instructed the officers to arrange transportation for us. I promise you, my parents will be like-minded with me. My mother would shoot me if she found out I left you here alone, and my father and I are almost exactly the same in how we think. They wouldn’t expect me to do any differently. Now please go get your things.”

  Evelyn’s head was pounding now. She was too tired to argue anymore. So she nodded and went to pack her things.

  Her reflection in the bathroom mirror flooded her with embarrassment. She’d wanted so much to look nice tonight, and now she was a disaster. Her hair and clothes were a mess, a bruise was already appearing over her eye, and marks of her defilement colored her shoulder and neck. Shame pierced her.

  She packed her clothes and what personal items she thought she would need and changed into warm clothes, throwing her discarded ones in the trash. She would never be able to wear them again without thinking about tonight; and besides, her sweater was ruined. She pulled the pins out of her hair and draped it around her shoulders, trying to hide the marks of her shame. Nothing else could be done. She took up her bag and walked back to the front room where Jackson was waiting for her.

  “Ok,” was all she could say. With her ruined reflection fresh in her mind, she felt dirty and worthless before him.

  Jackson took her bag and put it over his shoulder as she put on her jacket, and they left. It was the coldest night they’d had so far this winter and the air bit at Evelyn’s face. She hoped in vain it would numb the pain Tom’s hand left behind, but instead it just added to it.

  “You don’t need to carry my bag, Jackson. I don’t mind carrying it,” she spoke to Jackson’s back as she followed him.

  “It’s fine.”

  Jackson was angry with her; she was sure of it. Tears stung her eyes as a sob rose in her throat, but she had put him through so much already…she refused to add another burden, and she forced herself to stay composed. Once she was alone, there’d be plenty of time for tears.

  Jackson looked back and saw that Evelyn was struggling to keep up with his pace. He stopped and waited for her to catch up. When she did, she stopped next to him and kept her eyes down. He took her hand gently in his and started walking again, slower this time. The fever his anger was burning in him began to subside with her hand in his.

  Evelyn had assumed they would go to the Patrol Headquarters, but they were walking the opposite direction. It took her two blocks to work up the courage to speak. “Where are we going?”

  “The Cell Building,” Jackson answered. Worry creased Evelyn’s forehead. “We won’t need to go in. Our transportation should be waiting for us outside.”

  Evelyn had never traveled by anything but her two feet and the city buses. Only military and the very rich, or very important, had access to private vehicles. A bus wouldn’t alter its route for them, so she figured they must be taking a Patrol car, but she was wrong.

  An unmarked car and driver were waiting for them. Jackson was much more important than he let on. Having a private vehicle and driver available at his beck and call meant one of two things: he was either very rich or very distinguished. Either way, Jackson was a powerful man.

  “Thanks for being here,” Jackson spoke to the driver as they approached and handed off Evelyn’s bag. “I owe you.”

  “Don’t mention it, Jack,” the driver replied. “I was glad you had the mind to request me.” The driver, a slightly older gentleman, turned his kind face to Evelyn and held out his free hand. “I’m Jim, Miss…?”

  “Ev
elyn,” she supplied, reluctantly slipping her hand from Jackson’s to shake Jim’s.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Evelyn,” he smiled kindly. “Should be a quiet drive up to the Monroe’s. Not much traffic, and the weather seems to be behaving.”

  She smiled. He seemed to understand her silence, or at least respect it.

  Jackson held the door open for her, gesturing for her to get in. She hesitated for a moment. She would be getting into a car with a driver she’d only just met, and a man she realized she really knew almost nothing about, except that he made her feel safe. That would have to be enough.

  Jackson slid in after her and sat across from her. The inside of the vehicle was spacious, very spacious, with two bench-length leather seats facing each other. At a quick glance, she found a blanket folded on each seat, bottles of water in the cup-holders, and more buttons than she thought any vehicle ever needed. Never had she imagined transportation to be so luxurious.

  Jackson stared out the window as they drove. Evelyn watched him openly from her seat, thinking him unaware of her gaze. She noticed his hands were clean now, his knuckle still looked raw, but wasn’t bleeding. He must have washed his hands while she had packed.

  His eyes met hers when she gazed back up at his face.

  “What?” He didn’t mean for it to come out so short.

  “I’m so sorry I’ve put you in this situation.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault that Tom did what he did.”

  She wasn’t so sure of that. Even so, she knew Tom was mad. She knew revenge was coming. “I was worried about you. That’s why I asked you to stop; not for his sake.”

  “Worried about me?” Jackson wondered. “Why were you worried about me?”

  “You seemed so angry,” Evelyn answered. “I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret later.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry before,” Jackson admitted. He had wanted to kill Tom when he saw him with his hands on Evelyn and kissing her neck, and when he saw the terror on her face. He was still praying against the desire to murder him. “But I assure you, I knew what I was doing.”

  “I’m s…sorry,” she stammered. “I…I didn’t mean to say I doubted you.” She didn’t know what else to say, so she stayed quiet.

  “Evelyn,” Jackson said, allowing gentleness into his voice. He hated hearing the tremor in her speech. “I told you, you have nothing to be sorry for, and I meant it. You did nothing wrong, except…”

  “Except what?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Jackson, except what?” She asked again.

  He sighed. “Except you put yourself between us. Why on earth would you do that?” His voice was tense again.

  She looked down to her fidgeting hands. “I didn’t want him to hurt you.”

  Jackson leaned over, putting his head in his hands and running his fingers through his hair. He was ashamed to admit, even to himself, that he was angry with her. He was angry she’d put herself in harm’s way, that she thought her own safety was less important than his. “It was a very stupid thing to do.” He tried to steady his voice, but he knew it came out harsh. “I’m sorry,” he quickly added. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean that. But it made me sick when I saw you hurt. Walking in and finding him there, and then seeing you hit the table the way you did, it was worse than any harm he could have done to me.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Evelyn uttered. She didn’t want to think about Tom anymore. She didn’t want to think about any of it. But there was no escaping it.

  “Evelyn, you’re safe now,” Jackson spoke, trying to comfort her. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? It’ll be a little while before we arrive.”

  Evelyn was tired, and the pounding in her head was getting steadily worse. She didn’t want to sleep, though, terrified by what her dreams might hold, but closed her eyes and eventually lost the battle, dozing off.

  Once she was asleep, Jackson felt it was safe to look at her. His heart ached for her. His mind wandered over the evening’s events. He’d noticed her jacket in the door when he arrived at her apartment. He didn’t think it was an accident that it was there. She was smart to try and keep the door open. When he tested the door, it moved without a sound, opening the scene to his worst nightmare.

  He still didn’t know how he’d kept himself from killing Tom. The truth was, he didn’t restrain himself. The three-word-prayer, God help me, he’d sent up when he went after Tom had been answered. Every ounce of self-control was the grace of God poured over him. Even now, it was only that prayer, repeated over and over again in his mind, keeping him steady.

  All he wanted to do now was hold Evelyn and tell her, convince her, she was safe. Not just safe, but treasured and protected. But experience reminded him that his touch may prove too much.

  Oh God, he prayed, You’re a God of mercy and grace and healing. Thank you, God thank you, for getting me to her before it was too late; before Tom got what he was there for. Thank you for giving her the wisdom to put her jacket into the doorway, that Tom wasn’t thinking enough to lock the door behind him. And thank you for keeping me from murder. You know my thoughts, oh Lord. You know my anger, and you know my feelings for this woman. Thank you for being there with all of us, for being here with us now. But God, how do I comfort her? How do I show her she’s safe with me? How do I keep her safe now?

  Jackson couldn’t tear his eyes from the woman across from him. She looked so uncomfortable sitting up as she was. What was the harm in letting her sleep comfortably? And she had let him hold her hand. That was all the prompting he needed.

  Sliding into the seat next to her, he gently put his arm around her, tipping her into himself and away from the frigid window. In her sleepy state, she snuggled into him and brought her hand to his chest as she would if he were her pillow. He smiled and closed his eyes, happy knowing she was safe and in his arms.

  Chapter 17

  “Oh goodness! Jackson!” Evelyn gasped, sitting up too quickly. How long had her head been on his chest? “I’m so sorry! I just…” But she didn’t. It dawned on her, “You moved.”

  He gave a guilty smirk. “Do you mind?”

  “No,” she answered honestly. Her head was throbbing now. His arm was still around her and his fingers began stroking her arm like he had on her porch the night of the storm, but the events with Tom were still too fresh and she slid over to put more space between them.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She tried to smile reassuringly at him, but the pain in her head made it impossible.

  “Evelyn?” The concern in Jackson’s voice confirmed her failure to hide her pain. “Evelyn, are you ok?”

  “Yes.” She hoped. Maybe she should have let the officer, or at least Jackson, check her over better. “I just have a headache.”

  “Did George give you anything for the pain?”

  “No,” she confessed. “I sort of told him to leave me alone.” She felt like a little girl regretting her temper-tantrum.

  “That’s fine.” He shouldn’t find any of this amusing, but he would have enjoyed seeing her order George around. Seems she did have a little spark in her.

  Evelyn peeked through one eye and watched him sort through a compartment of medicine.

  “Take these.” He handed her two pills. She put them in her mouth without question. She’d do anything to make the pain go away. “And drink as much as you can of this,” he said, handing her a bottle of water.

  She managed to drink half the bottle, but stopped at the protest of her stomach. Jackson graciously took the bottle from her. She kept her eyes closed, trying to shut out the pain.

  “Evelyn?” His tone was careful. “How hard did you hit the table?”

  “Hard,” she answered. “But it didn’t knock me out. You don’t need to worry. I can think fine. No concussion. Just a headache.”

  “We have about an hour left to my parents’ house. You should sleep if you can.”

 
She nodded and obeyed, fighting the yearning to let Jackson hold her, and instead leaning the opposite direction of him.

  The car took a sharp turn and slowed down drastically, rousing Evelyn from her sleep. “We’re here,” Jackson said, as he looked out the window.

  Jackson held the door open for Evelyn again and helped her out of the car. Jim greeted her with a smile and handed Jackson her bag. Only then did she realize Jackson didn’t have anything with him, and that her head was feeling much better.

  “You didn’t bring anything?” she asked.

  He looked down and smiled. “I have things here so I don’t have to worry about packing. You ready?”

  She looked up at the huge house before them. Even in the dark it was beautiful. “Not in the slightest.” She tried to smooth the rumples out of her brown sweater. When they were leaving, her only thoughts were for warmth and to cover as much of her skin and shame as she could. Now she wished she’d chosen something a bit nicer.

  They walked up a number of steps and through beautifully foreboding, French, wooden doors. Evelyn’s eyes tried to take in everything, but the shadows of night concealed the home and its surroundings. The inside was dimly lit, yet stunning. Warm, sweet smelling air flowed through it and, even though the house was the largest Evelyn had ever been in, she found it charming and cozy. She didn’t belong here, with these vast ceilings and fine things, nor was she worthy of Jackson’s kindness or hospitality.

  “Mom? Dad?” Jackson called out.

  “In here,” came a man’s voice from another room.

  Evelyn couldn’t tell which direction it came from, but Jackson did and began walking toward one of the open doors. She couldn’t convince her feet to move.

  Jackson looked back and saw Evelyn rooted in place. He went to her, took her hand, and gently led her forward. “You have nothing to be nervous about.”