by Aimee McNeil
“This is Jackson.”
“Oh…Jackson from the cottage?”
“The very same,” Jackson confirmed.
“I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you were waiting for…” Stephanie’s words trailed off as she threw a glance Jackson’s way, scared she may have said too much in Jackson’s presence.
“I couldn’t stay. An armed man showed up.” Lexie took a deep breath.
“What?”
“Jackson stopped him,” Lexie continued in a rush.
Stephanie looked at Jackson and back at Lexie.
“Jackson knows. It was no accident he ended up finding me. He’s after the man who wants Mom.”
“I can’t even get my head around all of this.” Stephanie looked at Jackson cautiously.
The doorbell rang, startling them. “Get back,” Jackson ordered the girls. He pulled out his gun that was holstered under his jacket. Stephanie gasped when she saw the weapon and clung to Lexie’s arm.
“We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die,” Stephanie chanted in her panic.
Jackson walked into the living room. From what she could tell, Stephanie lived with her boyfriend or a male friend. A man’s sweater was thrown over the back of the chair. A few game systems were situated in front of the television, and a football sitting on a well-worn La-Z-Boy didn’t seem to fit with the soft feminine touches of the throw pillows and floral curtains. He walked toward the window, nudged the curtain aside with the barrel of his gun, and peered out at the front step.
“You expecting company?” Jackson asked. They both stared back at him with blank faces. “An idiot with flip-flops and bad sunglasses?”
“Evan,” the girls both said in unison. He could see the relief wash over them.
Jackson walked over to the door and opened it just wide enough for his frame to be visible. “What?” he barked, not at all concerned with pleasantries. He didn’t want him anywhere near Lexie.
“Who the fuck are you?” Evan narrowed his eyes.
“Let him in, Jackson.” Lexie grabbed the door handle and pulled the door from his hold. “Come in, Evan.”
“You’re here.” Evan’s face washed with relief. “Why didn’t you tell me she was here, Stephanie?” Evan shot Stephanie an accusing look, making Stephanie look guilty.
“I just got here,” Lexie defended her friend.
“Who’s this guy?” Evan nodded his head toward Jackson, disbelief in his tone.
“He’s a…friend,” Lexie finished uncomfortably.
“Are you the boyfriend?” Jackson asked bluntly, after he did a quick scan outside and closed the door.
Evan answered yes simultaneously with Lexie’s no. They both looked at each other; there was definitely history between these two, and it made anger simmer under Jackson’s skin. Stephanie’s gaze bounced back and forth between them with her mouth dropped open. He hated these emotions that suddenly felt as if they had a claim on him. Jackson led his life searching for facts. He didn’t get involved with people for this very reason; they always complicated things.
“Where have you been? You just disappeared for days. The police even questioned me.” Evan wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest.
“I’m fine. I was just…”
Jackson noticed Lexie pulling on the hem of her shirt, one of her nervous habits he picked up on.
Lexie’s eyes sought out Jackson; he could tell she was unsure of how much information she could give him. She didn’t return the embrace, and he liked knowing she had reservations toward Evan.
“She was with me.” Jackson crossed his arms over his chest.
Evan spun around, with a narrowed gaze. “Who the hell are you?”
“He needs to leave,” Jackson declared coldly, eyeing Evan.
“No, you need to leave.” Evan threw Jackson’s words back at him, pushing Lexie behind him.
“Stop it, Evan.” Lexie refused his attempt to guard her.
“I don’t like this guy. I don’t want him near you,” Evan bit off, his cold glower directed at Jackson.
“I don’t need you protecting me, Evan. Don’t you remember what happened to your brother? I don’t need you. I don’t want your help. I can take care of myself.” Lexie pushed his hands away from her and squared her shoulders. “Jackson’s right. You need to go.” Jackson saw a brief glimpse of desperation in Lexie’s voice. The look in her eyes spoke of her inner turmoil and grief. He knew the feeling well and recognized it instantly.
Evan shook his head. He looked wounded from her words. “I’m not leaving until you give me some answers.”
Lexie looked into Evan’s eyes, and her shoulders fell as her defiant stance melted away. “My mother’s past caught up with her. Apparently she was involved with something dangerous. I’m just trying to lay low until I hear from Mom and we figure this out.”
“You need to call the police,” Evan demanded
Lexie looked over at Jackson. “He is the police.”
Evan swung around and looked at Jackson in disbelief. “I’m staying,” Evan declared. “I’m definitely not leaving you here with him.” Evan stabbed his finger toward Jackson.
“You keep pointing that finger at me and I will break it,” Jackson said impatiently.
“Oh yeah, I’d like to see you try.” Evan swung around to meet Jackson face to face.
Jackson’s tolerance rushed past its limit. He could no longer contain the rage that tightened its grip on him. He could think of nothing else than punching Evan in the face since he walked in the door, and he didn’t hold back.
“Fuuuccckkk!” Evan screamed out as he stumbled backward, grabbing for his nose.
“Jackson!” Lexie gasped. Blood poured from Evan’s nose, dripping down the front of his shirt. His eyes looked vicious as he glared back at Jackson. He started toward him, but Lexie stepped in front of him. “Stop this now.” Lexie turned back toward Jackson. “Both of you.”
“He’s no more a fucking cop than I am!” Evan hollered.
The sound of a chair falling in the kitchen startled all of them, their attention snapped into focus. Jackson knew it was the chair he’d placed in front of the door. He placed his finger to his lips to silence everyone.
“Get upstairs now,” Jackson whispered. Evan looked as if he was going to argue, but Lexie grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him toward the staircase.
Jackson withdrew his gun and moved slowly toward the kitchen. A man dressed in black, holding a gun, turned the corner toward the hall. He barely had enough time to register Jackson’s presence before Jackson pulled his trigger. His aim was true as the bullet carved into the man’s face, dropping him to the ground. It was one of the men from the café.
Jackson stepped over the man’s body and walked toward the kitchen. He pressed himself against the wall, trying to hear any movement in the kitchen, but he was only met with silence. He pushed off and started forward. His gun was knocked from his hand before he had time to react, and it slid across the floor. Jackson grabbed hold of his attacker’s arm, forcing his gun away. The man let off a shot, and the bullet lodged in the nearby wall as they struggled. Jackson spun the man around and slammed him into the kitchen island. The man lost his footing and stumbled. Jackson kicked the man’s gun out of his hand before retrieving his knife. The man didn’t notice the blade in Jackson’s hand as he climbed back to his feet and ran toward him. Jackson sunk the blade into his side, twisting it deep, feeling the flesh give way. He could feel warm blood rush over his hand. The man gasped as he clung to Jackson’s shoulders for support, growing weak, until finally he slid to the floor.
Jackson looked down at his blood-soaked shirt and hands. The sight caused Jackson’s chest to constrict and his hands to shake. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to push back against the memories that began to flood his thoughts. He tried to focus solely on pulling long deep breaths into his body.
Jackson wiped his knife off on the back of the man’s shirt and slid it ba
ck into his sheath. He walked over toward the door and picked up the chair to reposition it under the handle. He did quick surveillance to make sure there were only two men before he walked back into the living room and sat down. He reached carefully inside his pocket, careful not to smear too much blood, and retrieved the Walkman tucked inside. He placed the headphones over his ears and hit play. His head was suddenly swimming in the strong female voice that sang as if she were the finest of instruments. He closed his eyes and let the music drown out the dark thoughts that clawed at his mind.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lexie
Lexie had her back to the bathroom door as the three of them huddled inside. The sound of the gunshots had them rattled. Minutes passed and the silence became almost deafening. They stared at each other trying to process the turn of events.
“Jesus Christ, Lexie. What are you involved in?” Evan whispered. He grabbed the hand towel from the ring to hold to his nose.
“Hey! That’s my good towel,” Stephanie complained, keeping her voice low.
Evan threw her a “are you serious” look before he dismissed her. Stephanie didn’t put up any more of a fight as she sat down on the edge of the bathtub with a sigh.
Blood had saturated the front of Evan’s shirt, but the bleeding had slowed considerably. He turned the water on low and washed the blood from his hands and examined his nose in the mirror.
“I wish I knew,” Lexie whispered.
“How long do we wait?” Stephanie asked nervously.
“I’m going to check.” Lexie grabbed the handle of the door, but Evan’s hand closed around hers.
“Stop,” Evan demanded.
“Let me go, Evan.” Lexie gave him a stern look.
Evan retracted his hand. “I’m coming with you,” he said, breaking eye contact.
“Don’t leave me here alone.” Stephanie jumped to her feet as Lexie swung open the door. The silence in the house felt heavy as they walked down the hall and peered down into the foyer. Nothing seemed out of sorts until Lexie began descending the stairs and noticed a body lying in the hall.
Stephanie began to scream, but Evan clamped his hand over her mouth. “Shut up, Steph.” Evan waited for her to nod before he removed his hand.
They moved toward the kitchen and noticed the other body lying in a pool of blood. “We have to call the police. This is insane.”
“No,” Lexie insisted. “No one is calling the police.” She stared down at the body. Nausea swirled heavily in the pit of her stomach. She averted her gaze and took a deep breath.
“There are two dead men lying on the floor,” Evan snapped, no longer trying to keep his voice down. “Why are you protecting this guy? Are you sleeping with him?”
“That’s none of your business.” Lexie shook her head in disbelief.
“Fuck, this is a mind trip.” Evan walked over toward the kitchen table, pulled out a chair, and collapsed in it. “Do you have any pain meds, Stephanie?”
“Yeah.” Stephanie’s eyes kept sliding back to the dead man on her floor as she walked into her kitchen and grabbed a bottle from the windowsill. “What are we going to do with the bodies?”
“Where’s Jackson?”
Stephanie pointed into the living room. Lexie noticed Jackson sitting in the recliner, the one that Stephanie despised wholeheartedly.
“Jackson?” she gasped, running over to him.
His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed, and his jaw clenched tight. His headphones were turned up so loud she could hear the music. She knelt down in front of him hesitantly, touching his arm. Blood coated his hands and soaked the front of his shirt. “Jackson.” She nudged his arm. He didn’t respond to her touch, and she ran her fingers along his arm. She could see his long slow breaths from the rise and fall of his chest, and it eased her panic.
She slowly lifted his shirt to reveal the blood that saturated his side was not his own. Physically he seemed unharmed.
“Lexie?” Stephanie called to her. Lexie turned around to see Stephanie and Evan approaching.
“Just give us a few minutes,” Lexie requested.
Stephanie reached up to grab Evan’s arm to stop him from walking any closer.
“This is fucked up.” He pulled his arm free of Stephanie’s hold, throwing a scowl at Lexie before he turned on his heel and stomped out of the room. Stephanie shrugged nervously before she followed him.
Lexie turned back toward Jackson. His eyes were now open and staring down at her hand on his arm. “Jackson, are you all right?”
She could see the torment brewing behind his beautiful dark eyes. She knew her feelings for him were irrational, and she should be fighting them every step of the way. She knew if she was smart she would keep her defenses up around him, especially now. She should be building walls, not trying to feed this strange connection they had. The intense feelings that were claiming her heart were winning the war against logic. They whispered for her to move closer to the edge, to jump and free fall without knowing what would be waiting when she landed.
He was lost in his mind, tormented by his own demons. She knew the look; she saw it every time she looked in a mirror. All she could think about was bringing him back to her. Lexie climbed on the chair, straddling his lap. She pulled his headphones off. The music filtering through the earpieces was surprising. It sounded like what nature would sound like if it had a voice.
“Look at me, Jackson.” Lexie placed her hands on either side of his face. “Come back.”
Lexie looked into his eyes, swirling with so much unreleased emotion. He focused on her face, slowly coming back from wherever he retreated to. Lexie ran her thumb over his bottom lip. She loved the shape of his full lips. In this moment, she couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than this strong man that was now vulnerable to her will. She could see him searching her face for answers. She wanted to give him all the answers he sought. She wanted to be his answer. Throwing caution to the wind, she decided to let her desires take the front seat. She was walking a new line, one with danger close on her heels, but she didn’t want to think about what was lurking around the corner.
Lexie leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. She wasn’t expecting the swell of excitement that heated her, making her heart race. It hit her fast and hard, shoving all the other emotions she was dealing with aside and taking center stage. She indulged in the sweet escape as she reveled in him. He kissed her like a starving man, and she encouraged him to devour her until reality seeped in and pulled them apart.
Lexie leaned back. She was breathless and staring into his now-clear eyes. His focus was back, and he was staring into her soul. “Where were you?” she whispered.
“Nowhere.” His eyes closed, and he leaned back into the chair.
Lexie wanted to understand Jackson. She wanted to know what horrible truth caused him to shut down. She needed to establish trust between them, and to do that she needed to open up to him. Lexie took a deep breath. “Evan’s brother and I were together for a long time.” She looked up into his face. His eyes were open again, and he was listening. She could feel her lip tremble. “I had given him my heart, and he promised we would be together forever. A year ago we were at a concert. It was one of our favorite events of the year. On the way home, we were attacked. There were three of them.” Lexie placed her hand against her neck. “Sometimes I can still feel the knife pressed against my throat.” A sob escaped her, and she covered her mouth, taking a deep breath so she could continue. “Alex fought two of them.” Lexie’s shoulders began to shake as she let the emotions take over. “I replay it over and over all the time, wondering if I hadn’t insisted on taking the scenic walk home, or if I could have just fought harder…he’d still be here.”
Jackson looked down at his hands; he was struggling with something. She could see it brewing behind his eyes.
“My father died when I was four. I don’t remember him much, but I knew that my mother loved him so much that part of her died with him. I was twelve y
ears old when I found her…” Jackson wiped his face on his arm. “I found her in the bathroom. There was so much blood.” He looked at his blood-covered hands.
Lexie didn’t care about the blood on Jackson’s shirt as she wrapped her arms around him and sought comfort for both their sakes. She wondered if the tragedies they both endured was the reason for her intense attraction toward him. Maybe her soul was drawn to his because like hers, his was torn and bloodied.
The sound of a phone ringing cut through the silence. Lexie recognized the ring immediately. She pushed herself to her feet, looking down at Jackson with wide eyes. Lexie frantically pulled it out of her pocket.
“Hello?” Lexie said in a rush. “Mom?”
“Lexie, you don’t know how good it is to hear your voice. Are you safe?”
“Yes, I’m at Stephanie’s. Where are you?” Lexie stood up, running her hand through her hair and twisting the strands around her fingers until it bordered on painful.
“I tried to keep you safe. I didn’t want him to know about you, but everything has changed.” She could detect panic in her mother’s words. “I went to the cottage, but you were gone and there were signs of a struggle.”
“I’m fine. I managed to escape.” Lexie locked eyes with Jackson.
“I thought he took you.” Lexie could hear her mother’s voice shake.
“Are you talking about John?”
Her mother grew quiet for a moment. “How do you know his name?”
“I found your diary.”
“Oh Lexie, you shouldn’t have found out that way. I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have kept this all a secret, but I hoped it would always stay in the past.”
“It’s all right, Mom. I just needed answers. I just need to see you.”
“It’s not safe for you to stay there. Can you meet me at that little diner off the highway in Oxford? ”
“Yes, of course. When?”
“Tonight at seven.”
“I’ll be there.” Lexie didn’t mention Jackson. She knew her mother wouldn’t understand if she tried to explain over the phone. She would break the news to her in person. Hopefully her mother would see the value of having him on their side.