Virtually Perfect

by Samantha Hunter

  “I’m sorry, Neal. I don’t want to hurt you—please don’t hurt me.”

  He leaned down over her, and she felt the tears choke her. She only had one shot to save Jack and herself. Neal was focused on her now, stretching out to touch her again, and speaking to her in that nasal-thin, quavering voice.

  “I don’t want to hurt you—I love you.” He strummed his fingers down her arm, and she tried to hold herself steady, not giving in to the repulsion that followed the path of his cold, clammy touch. He braced his knee on the edge of the sofa, his hot breath suffocating her as he leaned even closer, pressing his moist mouth to her temple.

  Focusing—focusing hard—she placed her hands on his shoulders, turning her face to his, and he sighed, obviously pleased, and kissed her. Mustering all her will to kiss him back so that she could keep him distracted, she blanked her mind of the urge to throw up.

  She shifted a little farther under him as a groan of desire rattled from Neal’s chest. She thought she heard a noise behind her—Jack. It had to be Jack! She twisted underneath Neal’s groping hands, at once pushing down on his shoulders and bringing her knee up into his crotch—hard. As he sucked in a sharp breath, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and brought her knee up again, for good measure.

  “Raine!” Jack staggered into the doorway just in time to see Neal doubled up over Raine and keening in pain. Jack tried to make his body move faster, but the crushing pain in his head was holding him back. When he stepped forward the room spun; he had to stop and grab on to the door frame and catch his breath.

  He saw Raine stand, and tried to focus his blurred vision—Neal—it was Neal?—Jesus. It was Neal. He watched in disbelief as Raine jumped up from the sofa, pushing hard at Neal, causing him to fall backward over the coffee table, his head hitting the floor with a thud. He stayed there, curled up and making strangled sounds. Jack blinked, trying to comprehend what was happening, and steadied himself.

  “Rainey…”

  “Jack! Oh my God.” She rushed to him, and he felt the welcome relief of her hands on him, and her lips touching his face, her wet cheeks against his.

  “Raine—God, did he…are you…okay?”

  Raine looked back at Neal, lying helplessly on the floor.

  “He’s not getting up for a while. I’m okay.” She felt another wave of nausea as the memory of Neal’s hands and lips washed over her. Needing to erase it, she got closer and kissed Jack, and set her forehead to his, trying to catch her breath. Then she stepped away, and picked up a poker from the fireplace, handing it to him, just in case. “Stay here—I’m calling the police.”

  Jack nodded, his vision cleared again—it seemed to come and go. He had barely found his way back to the house, feared he might have just as easily ended up in the water as he struggled through the dark. His face felt raw from where he had fallen face-first into the woodpile, and his head was spinning, but he kept his eye on Neal, holding the poker firmly in his hand.

  Raine came back, took the poker from him and urged him forward to the sofa. Neal was curled up on the floor, whimpering now, mumbling unintelligible things. Jack looked at him and wished they were both standing so he could kick his sorry ass, but then Raine had already done a pretty good job of that. He turned, only to find her gone again, and panicked for a second, until he saw her return, with a wet rag and an ice pack.

  “The police will be here very shortly.”

  She steadied his head so she could wash some of the blood from the cuts on his face, and felt her stomach clench when her fingers felt the stickiness on the back of his head. He winced, going pale. She pulled her hand away and saw blood on her palm, Jack’s blood, and choked.

  “Oh no, Jack…”

  He reached out to hold her, but his voice slurred and she felt her skin turn to ice, unsure of what to do. “S’ okay Rainey…he hit me with something…I’m sure it’s not that bad…don’t worry.”

  At that moment Raine saw the flashing lights in the window, and managed to get up on her wobbly legs, rushing to the door to let the officers in.

  “I need an ambulance, he’s hurt! Please, hurry….” She pointed to Jack.

  Over the radio, they called an ambulance, and crossed the room to where Jack lay on the sofa.

  “Ma’am, can you tell us what happened here?”

  She rattled through what happened and pointed to Neal. She suggested they contact Detective Delaney.

  “Do you have any proof this is the man who has been harassing you?”

  Jack’s voice interrupted, a bare croak, but there. “Except for the fact that he just tried to kill us?”

  Raine shot the officer a look, and went to Jack, sitting down next to him as two other officers attended to Neal.

  “He told me—he told me it was him, and why.”

  The cop nodded. “Okay, you both need to go to the hospital, we’re going to investigate the scene, and we’ll contact Delaney—we’ll need your statement as soon as you can give it.”

  Jack nodded, and Raine pushed him gently back against the sofa, murmuring to him as she heard sirens from the ambulances coming up the road. The cops were handcuffing Neal, and reading him his rights even as he lay there on the floor still moaning. Suddenly she started to shake.

  She heard the door open again, and she was very cold. It must be from all the frigid air coming in from the door, she figured. There was a lot of noise, and she couldn’t seem to stop her teeth from chattering, no matter how hard she tried.

  She watched them lift Neal onto a stretcher. blinking, It didn’t seem quite real. Someone was kneeling by her and saying something, but she just gazed at him blankly. Somehow understanding that it was over, she let herself slide into the relief of oblivion.

  IT WAS A FULL WEEK later when Raine was helping Jack back to his house. She had only been kept overnight in the hospital for observation, but he had sustained some serious head injuries and had been hospitalized for a week. Gwen had also been admitted overnight, after she told the police that Neal had drugged her—fortunately, it hadn’t been a lethal dose. It was over now, and they could relax.

  It was all cut-and-dried, according to the prosecutors, with the abundance of evidence implicating Neal that the police had uncovered while going through his home and computers. He apparently had a long but previously undetected habit of e-mail harassment and Internet theft. His most serious charge—attempted murder—would send him away for a good long time.

  Jack mulled it all over as they pulled in to his driveway, flexing his fist and wishing he could have a go at Neal’s face now that he was fully recovered. But it was over and it was time to move on. He looked at Raine and smiled—move on to better things. Yeah.

  “Well, let me get your case and we’ll go inside—”

  “Raine, I’m not an invalid. I’m able to carry my own case. I feel as good as new.”

  The worry was still apparent in her eyes, and she stubbornly took the case from the back seat, reaching up to slide her hand gently over the back of his head, over the stubbly spot where the doctor had shaved his gorgeous hair and stitched up his wound.

  “Yeah, you’re a real tough guy. Just let me take it, okay?”

  He decided maybe it wasn’t so bad to be taken care of, after all, and grasped her hand as they walked up the steps. The house was cool, but it felt good to be home. As soon as the door was closed, Jack showed Raine just exactly how recovered he was feeling. Sliding his arms around her, he pinned her firmly against the door, fitting his mouth over hers before she could so much as take a breath. She melted into him, heat flaring as he moved his mouth across her cheek, nuzzling her.

  “Maybe I will need a little help, you know, getting my clothes off….”

  She laughed and squirmed in his hold. “Jack, we just got in, you should sit down…”

  He growled against her ear. “I’ll sit down if you sit on my lap….”

  She giggled, and didn’t believe it—she never giggled. Realizing that made her giggle more as he
kissed her face, and she playfully shoved him away.

  His expression was passionate, but amused, and he backed up, holding her hand. As they stepped into the foyer, he looked into the den, and remembered the last time he had come through this door. Clinging to the door frame, barely able to stand, he’d seen Neal leaning over Raine, watched her fighting him off, feeling sick with helplessness. He shook his head in disgust at the memory.

  “Ouch.” Raine tugged her hand from his. “You’re squeezing too hard.”

  “Oh, hell. I’m sorry, baby. I just…”

  She touched his face. “It’s okay. I know, the memory of it hits you when you walk back in. Me, too. I almost couldn’t stay here alone the first night, but it wears off soon. Get some food, a fire, and the house feels better.”

  He pulled her close again. “The house feels better with you in it.”

  Kissing her soundly, he picked up his case. “I’m gonna take this up and change—wanna help me?”

  She grinned. “Later—maybe after I get you some lunch.”

  “Toasted cheese? And tomato soup?” he angled, figuring if she was in the mood to baby him, he wasn’t going to pass it up.

  “Sure.”

  He grinned and kissed her again, and went upstairs. Raine busied herself in the kitchen, and didn’t even hear him when he came quietly back into the kitchen.

  “Raine?”

  She turned from stirring the soup, and smiled. “Hey. Almost done here. Maybe you should get a fire going, it’s going to be a cold night.”

  “Where are your things?”

  She turned, wrinkling her forehead. “What?”

  “Your stuff—your clothes, paperwork, your briefcase—nothing is here.”

  She felt her muscles tense in response to the edge in his voice, and she kept her voice light and even.

  “I took my things home. I stayed here for a day or so, but I was spending most of my time at the hospital with you, and I figured it was safe to go back—”

  “You left? Why?”

  Truly puzzled now, she turned the burner under the soup off and shrugged. “It was over, time for me to go home. There wasn’t any point in me staying here after things were settled.”

  “Over? No point in you being here? How about the fact that we are together now, Raine? This is where you are supposed to be.” The words really grated as he said them, causing her anger to flare.

  “Where I am supposed to be? What the hell does that mean? Yes, we are together, but I have my own house, my own life, and I needed to get back to it. We are still together. I don’t know what you are so upset about.”

  “I told you I wanted you with me, every day, every night—in my bed. Not in another house, another town.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face. “What are you saying? You expected me to live here? With you? Permanently?”

  He was so angry she nearly flinched just from the expression on his face. She’d seen him angry before, but this was different. Something else was layered over the anger—hurt? She felt terrible when she realized what he had expected.

  “Jack, be reasonable—we have only been together a few weeks, and under stressful circumstances. It was nice for you to let me stay here, and we obviously are together, but—” She paused, hearing the strain in her voice.

  “Nice? You think I was nice to let you stay here? You want me to be reasonable?”

  “Stop repeating everything I say.”

  Crossing the kitchen in a few long steps, he backed her up against the sink, pressing into her, his face close.

  “I don’t feel like being reasonable, Raine. I can’t believe you would pull away from me like this, just…up and leave. What do you want, Raine? How do you feel about me? What do you think this thing is between us?”

  His eyes searched her face, and she stammered under the scrutiny, not able to form a reply before he continued.

  “Because I’ll tell you, my ideas about us didn’t include you moving out and going happily on with your life—where did I fit into your plan, Raine? Am I in it?”

  His eyes glittered, and she gazed back at him. “Yes, God, Jack, yes! I didn’t leave you, I just returned to my own home. I assumed we would keep seeing each other, see what it is we have, what we really feel…”

  She couldn’t finish as he leaned even closer into her. “What we really feel? What do you really feel, Raine?”

  “I…I, I’m not sure. It has all gone so fast, and there has been so much—how can we know for sure…?”

  “I’ll tell you what I know for sure. I love you. I love you and I want you here with me, living with me, sleeping with me, sharing everything with me. I don’t want to date you, Raine—we crossed that line a long time ago.”

  She couldn’t breathe—he loved her? He thought she was just going to live with him, to stay there and never go home? A feeling of uncertainty suddenly overwhelmed her, and she wiggled her way out of his tight hold. She crossed the kitchen, then whirled, turning on him, confused, angry, and a million other things.

  “You love me? And what does that mean? That you get to make all the decisions, that you decide what this relationship will be and I am supposed to just go along? I don’t think that is how you show you love someone.”

  “Oh, and you didn’t do exactly the same thing, just moving out of here, and never mentioning a word of it? Why didn’t you say anything, Raine? You have spent every day with me, but never mentioned a word about going back home.”

  “I…I guess I just didn’t figure it was a big deal.”

  She felt his chill across the room, and realized she’d put that badly, but refused to back off now, and lifted her chin stubbornly. He walked to her, slowly, and looked at her deeply

  “What exactly do you feel for me, Raine? You want me to ask, so I am asking.”

  She squirmed. He wasn’t touching her, only standing there, looking right through her, and she could only find weak words, started to lift her hand to touch him, but dropped it back to her side.

  “I…well, I want you. I care for you—a lot. You know that.”

  His eyes veiled, and he didn’t say anything, just nodded. “You care for me.”

  She nodded, and felt lost. Small. Sad.

  He walked to the window, and leaned on the counter, looking out. “And do you believe I love you?”

  She took a breath, trying to find something right to say.

  “I know you care about me, too—I don’t know about love, Jack—I haven’t had any experience with it. And we have been in this horrible situation, so maybe it has made us feel things that we normally wouldn’t have—”

  He turned, cutting her off. “Please, Raine. We’ve been down this road. I am a grown man, and I am in love with you. At least accept that much.”

  She felt sick, and wanted to go to him, but didn’t know how to break down the wall that was growing between them.

  “I just need some time—we can still be together, still see each other.”

  “Why? So you can decide if you really feel anything for me or not?”

  “No! Stop twisting things. You know I have feelings for you, I just don’t know how to handle them, I don’t know what they are. I need to figure things out.”

  His shoulders slumped, and he ran his hand over his face.

  “Fine. Okay.” He came back to her, placed his hands on her shoulders, pain evident in his eyes.

  “I guess that’s it, then. I guess we’ll just see where it goes. But right now, I need you to go. I want to be alone.”

  Raine felt the hurt cut through her, and nearly wept. She wanted to say something, but the words weren’t there, she didn’t know what they were, where to find them. So she nodded as his hands fell away, and she whispered, “Okay,” and went back to the hall to get her jacket.

  Walking away from the house, she felt her heart break with each step she took, but for reasons even she couldn’t understand, she kept walking.

  16

  HERE SHE WAS. Home. It was what
she wanted. The fight with Jack had left her miserable and frustrated—why couldn’t he understand? He had had no right to make the assumptions he had. He had no right to be angry at her. She was sure of it.

  So why did she feel so awful? So lonely? A knock on the door startled her out of her muddled thoughts.

  “Just a second.”

  A shiver of paranoia ran down her spine, and she breathed in and out slowly, reminding herself there was no one stalking her now: she was safe. She opened the door.

  “Gwen!” She smiled with joy at seeing her friend, but the joy faded when she took in Gwen’s pale features and sad eyes. She wasn’t sparkly the way she usually was, and she was dressed in jeans and a plain gray T-shirt, which was definitely not Gwen’s style.

  Raine slid her arm around her friend’s slim shoulders and drew her inside. She had talked to Gwen the morning after everything had happened, offered to be there when the police wanted to talk with her, but Gwen had insisted she was fine and needed time alone. Raine knew she was embarrassed, humiliated and hurt.

  “Here, sit down, and let me make us some tea.”

  Gwen nodded. “Yeah, put something stiff in it if you have anything.”

  “Sorry, all I have is some good old Earl Grey.”

  Raine stopped halfway to the kitchen and watched Gwen bury her face in her hands. The tea could wait. She went back to the couch, surprised at how tightly her own heart twisted when Gwen raised her tear-filled eyes to her and spoke raggedly through sobs that seemed to be threatening to take over.

  “I…thought…he was it, Raine. I…slept with him…he said things, made me feel so special. I went to the jail to see him—yesterday….”

  “Oh, no—you should have called me, Gwen. You shouldn’t have done that alone.”

  Gwen nodded. “I couldn’t process it. I needed to hear it from him. And boy did I hear it. He said I was just a slut he was using till he could get what he really wanted. You.” The last word came out on a wail, and she fell against Raine wracked in sobs. Raine followed her instincts and hugged her.

  Eventually, Gwen’s sobbing ceased, and they just sat there, two friends, comforted by having each other. Raine hadn’t known until this moment how much she cherished their bond. Rarely in her life had she felt that kind of connection with anyone.