Not yet.
But I would.
Sooner than I was ready for.
Jack and I made it to the motel with half a tank of gas. Per his request, I gave him the room key, and he went on ahead while I asked the manager about where to buy gas and some real food. I wasn’t exactly clear why Jack insisted I go out in the rain on this fact-finding mission, but the part of me that wanted to resist him was fading fast.
Whatever was happening, whoever he really was, something deep inside was pulling on me like the strings of a puppet. I couldn’t explain. But Jack was right about one thing: I’d forgotten my fear this afternoon, and now I was shedding my old self like an old ratty coat.
Stupid. Insane. Ridiculous. My thoughts were all those, but nothing trumped the gnawing in my gut that kept nudging me forward.
After a brief conversation with the motel manager, I found out that the gas station down the road had fuel, though they were only allowing ten gallons per customer. The Red Cross was set up across town and might have some food, but all of the restaurants and grocery stores were still closed. One of the food banks down the way was giving out some supplies, but unfortunately, without a kitchen, we’d have to make do with granola bars until we reached Tallahassee.
I thanked the manager and left the office without telling him I was checking out.
If that blonde woman came around, I didn’t want him telling her I’d left town.
I walked through the parking lot, not bothering to shield myself from the rain. I was already soaked through.
I knocked on the door. “Jack! Open up!” No answer. “Jack!” I knocked harder.
Was he even in there?
I was about to turn back for the office to request a key, when the door creaked open. The fine hairs on my already goosebump-covered skin pricked up.
“Jack?” I pushed on the door. The room was empty, but the shower was running.
I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. Maybe the door had been ajar, and my knocking jiggled it open? Not like people can open doors with their thoughts—
Fuck. Never mind. Maybe it was possible.
I went to the closet to grab dry clothes and start packing up. I’d get my stuff from the bathroom after he was done with his shower.
Weird. He could’ve just said he needed to get clean. Instead, he sent me on an errand. Also, they only had cold water right now. Management wouldn’t turn on the generator until later.
“Jack! I’m back!” I called out.
I heard nothing in response.
“Jack?” I knocked on the partially open bathroom door, keeping my eyes averted. “Are you okay?”
Again, he didn’t respond.
Sonofabitch. I pushed the door open all the way. I couldn’t see past the curtain, but there was no sign of movement or a person behind it.
I stepped forward and yanked back the shower curtain. Jack lay twisted on his side, naked. His face was submerged in about five inches of water.
“Jack!” I kneeled down and turned him over. “Jack. Jack!” I slapped his wet cheek.
He wasn’t responding.
“Fuck. Fuck. What do I do?” I grabbed his wrist and tried to find a pulse.
Nothing. Not a bump or thump.
I shut off the water and darted into the bedroom, looking for my purse with my cell.
“Where are you! Where?” The car.
I ran outside, the cold rain giving me a fresh shock. I grabbed my purse and found my cell. I hit 9-1-1, but nothing happened.
“Sonofabitch!” I threw the thing back in my purse and ran to the office, but when I turned the knob, the door was locked. A sign in the window said they were closed for lunch.
It’s two in the afternoon, you fuckers! I ran back to the room, thinking my only option was to try to drag Jack from the tub and attempt CPR. All the people on my crew had training. First aid, too.
I reached my room and bolted for the bathroom, but just as I was about to push on the door, it flew open.
Jack stood there naked, and I didn’t know which was more shocking, his insanely beautiful body or the fact he wasn’t dead. I blinked, trying not to fixate on the hard planes of his torso and the deep ridges of his stomach muscles. I tried not to stare at his long thick cock hanging low between his thighs.
Jack arched a dark wet brow and folded his arms over his chest, making his firm pectorals more pronounced.
“Surely you have seen a naked man before, Jeni.” He sounded amused.
Ohgod. I turned my back to him. “What happened to you?”
“I do not know what you mean.”
“You were lying in the tub, dead. I was about to start CPR.”
“I do not know what you mean.”
I frowned and glanced over my shoulder at his face. “I didn’t imagine it.”
He grabbed a towel and began drying himself.
I turned my head away again.
“Look all you like, Jeni. I do not mind. I’ll even fuck you if you ask nicely. But remember, everything comes with a price.”
I turned and locked my eyes on his wickedly handsome face. “You think this is a joke? Do you? My fucking life has been turned upside down, and you’re dying in the goddamned bathtub and popping back to life, making jokes.”
I wanted to throw up, not get fucked!
He wrapped the towel around his waist and closed the gap between us. “I was not joking. I suspect I haven’t had a good fuck in a long time, and clearly neither have you.” He slid past me, leaving me staring into the empty bathroom. My mind involuntarily offered images of him taking that big cock and sliding it between my legs.
Sonofa… I knew he saw that, and it probably pleased him that he’d gotten inside my head. But I did not want to have sex with him, kiss him, eat with him, or breathe with him. The only thing I inexplicably wanted was to help him find out who he was so he could move on and I could go my separate way.
“The rain is letting up. Time to hit the road.” He slid on his jeans and flannel shirt. I didn’t bother to ask where he’d gotten them originally. Not from Randall.
“We should be able to get enough gas to get to the next gas station,” I said, with an unfriendly tone, feeling overwhelmed and disturbed by what just happened. “The Red Cross down the road might have some food, if you’re hungry.”
“I can wait until we get to your father’s house.” Then why did he make me ask about all that? Clearly, he’d wanted me out of the room for a few minutes. But why? So he could die in the tub and come back to life? Fucking hell, this was weird.
“Wait. You never said anything about going anywhere near my father.”
“How do you think I will ensure he is protected?” Jack shook his head, slid on his boots, and headed for the door. “See you outside. You have three minutes.”
“I need ten. And stop telling me what to do,” I yelled at the back of his head. I was getting fed up with him, but I doubted that would change anything. The strange feelings inside me were growing stronger.
Soon, I’d have to face them.
CHAPTER NINE
We arrived at my dad’s house just west of Tallahassee. Normally, the drive would take about four hours from Tampa, but with the road closures and detours, we clocked seven hours and twenty-two minutes. I’d already called my dad to let him know we were coming, but he wasn’t answering.
“You stay here,” I said as Jack pulled up in the driveway, parking over the oil stains where my dad used to leave his old blue truck. Ironic how he drove a semi for decades without so much as a ticket, and then one day, boom. He ran a red light right in front of Target and changed everything. Honestly, I don’t think my dad even understood what happened. He swore up and down that the light had been green, but video footage showed otherwise. It was the reason the insurance company refused to pay more. His fault. Different coverage.
Jack nodded at my request for him to stay put, and I hopped out, feeling more than a little thankful that the porch lights were off. Our house w
as dark green with crooked white shutters and overgrown weeds. It was a stark contrast to all the other homes on the block with their neatly mowed lawns and porch swings. We didn’t have the money for upkeep, and I didn’t have the time to do it myself. Or maybe the house was a reflection of how I felt about it. We’d moved here after my mother died to be closer to my grandparents, who also left this world a few years after that. But this house never felt like home. It was a place we lived. Nothing more.
I used my key to enter. The lights were off inside, too, which wasn’t normal. My dad liked to stay up late reading or watching the news.
“Dad?” I flicked the switch in the foyer and then the living room just around the corner. He wasn’t asleep on our old gray couch, his usual spot.
A spike of fear lodged in my stomach. What if that woman already found out where I lived?
“Dad!” I went straight to his room and pushed on the door. My worries drained away, only to be replaced by sadness. He lay passed out on his bed next to an empty bottle of Jim Beam. He had his iPad in his hand, stuck on some sports channel. “Oh, Dad…” He had sandy blond hair and light brown eyes—my eyes. I got my short stature and dark brown hair from my mother, though she wore hers short in all the photos I’d seen. Mine was nearly down to my waist now. I hated cutting it because it reminded me of her. Felt wrong not to let it grow.
As for my dad, he’d been in good shape before his accident—liked working out during his time off. He said he wanted to stay healthy because of me. I had no other family, and he worried about leaving me all alone.
Looks like I should’ve been the one worrying. I shut off the iPad and kissed his forehead. I knew he’d been struggling with pain, but he swore he had things under control. Maybe taking that job in Tampa had been a mistake.
I shut his bedroom door and went into the kitchen, confronted by an overflowing trash can under the sink and piles of dirty dishes on the white tile counter. The beige linoleum floor was sticky, like it hadn’t been washed since I left. It broke my heart.
“You all right?” Jack came up behind me as I began emptying the dishwasher.
“He promised to have the maid service come by.” I started stacking the clean plates in the cupboard above the sink. “He swore he wouldn’t do this.”
Jack remained silent for a long moment while I powered through my task.
“People in pain do not always have the wherewithal to keep their word, Jeni.”
“Yeah. No shit. But from the look of this place, he didn’t even try.”
Jack didn’t argue. He didn’t offer any words of comfort either. I appreciated that, because coming from him, it wouldn’t be genuine. Jack didn’t seem like the caring type. He was…I didn’t know.
I started tackling the glasses, and he grabbed the trash container, taking it outside. When he returned, he began collecting empty beer cans left around the living room along with old microwave-dinner containers. In an hour or so, we had my small house back to a humanlike condition, but there were no words for how guilty I felt. I shouldn’t have left him to fend for himself.
“It is not your fault, Jeni.”
Jack leaned his towering frame against the counter, folding his strong arms over his chest. I ignored how powerful he looked, and how his every movement gave off an air of authority. I swear, he looked like he’d been built in another time, when Greek gods walked the earth. His flannel shirt looked awkward on him.
“What do you want for dinner?” I asked. “I checked, and there’s microwave lasagna and frozen broccoli. We have soup in the pantry.”
“How about this?” Jack held up a bottle of bourbon. “It was between the sofa cushions.”
“That works, too.” I went for two small glasses in the cupboard and placed them on the freshly cleaned tile counter.
He filled them halfway.
“That’s a lot. I’ll have to eat something.”
He nodded. “Be my guest.”
“You’re not going to eat?”
“The dead do not need to eat.”
I shook my head and placed the frozen tray in the microwave above the electric stove.
“I saw the photo of your mother in the hallway,” he said. “You look like her.”
I supposed I did. My light brown eye color was from my dad, but everything else came from her. My dark hair, my small frame, and my large breasts. I even had her round face and pale skin.
“Well, hopefully, I won’t die like her.” I took my glass, raised it toward him, and washed down a mouthful of the smoky liquid. The heat instantly scorched my throat and soothed the gnawing ache in my stomach.
“How did your mother perish?”
I didn’t like talking about it, so I let the image from the police report flash inside my head. I’d seen a copy hidden in my father’s desk years after it happened. How he got the photo, I didn’t know.
“Unpleasant.” As usual, Jack’s eyes were a void of emotion. He was always paying attention to everything around him, but he was completely detached. Unless it’s anger. I could almost understand.
“Some rich asshole ran her over with his car. He was drunk. His lawyers got him off with traffic school.”
Jack bobbed his head. “Sounds like my kind of people.”
“What?” I snapped.
He looked down at me with shrugged brows. “You don’t honestly believe I am one of the good guys, do you, Jeni?”
I sighed with contempt. “Why are you like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to convince me you’re evil while also demanding I help you. It’s counterproductive.”
“I want there to be no misunderstandings on your part about whom you are dealing with. I am not a good man, Jeni. And I am here for one thing and one thing only.”
“Which is?”
“Revenge.”
“I don’t fucking get it. You say you can’t remember who—”
He held up his hand to silence me. “We have gone through this already.”
He was right; we had. Someone had taken away his memories. Someone had wronged him. He knew that much. He also seemed very certain that he was evil.
“What if you’re wrong?” I asked. “What if that feeling inside is just your pain? What if you’re like me?” Genuinely and irrevocably pissed off at the world.
“It changes nothing, Jeni,” he said calmly. “Either way, I will find out who threw me to the bottom of the ocean inside a safe, where I drowned and came back to life, only to repeat the act over and over again. I will find out why. Then I will kill them.”
Oh God. Was that what he went through? Given all the crazy shit happening, I hadn’t given it much thought. I sort of just assumed he’d been put in that metal box and died once. It never occurred to me that he’d kept coming back to life inside that watery tomb.
An image of him gasping for air and choking on water filled my mind. Horrifying. “What happens when this is all over?”
“I will take my rightful place among the dead.”
“You honestly think you’re undead?” I wanted to roll my eyes but wouldn’t dare.
“I am much more than that.” He opened his mind, flooding my head with not so much memories but emotions. Or memories of emotions? I had no words to describe it other than his feelings were not the kind a person had when wounds were fresh. They were old, older than my scars about my mother. They were what a person felt after the dust settled and left an indelible mark, like falling off your bike as a kid. The details were fuzzy, but deep inside your brain, the pain lingered. Only, for him, the distance felt greater, the memories older.
“How do you do that?” I asked. “The mind-sharing thing?”
He polished off his bourbon and poured another. He wasn’t going to answer.
“Fine, Jack, I get it. You’re a man of mystery and trust no one, but I need to know where this ends. With me, I mean.”
“Our arrangement will end after I have taken care of those responsible. You will ta
ke your place in this world as a very powerful woman.”
I stared for a long moment, searching for any sign of truth or sarcasm in his eyes. He was dead serious. No pun intended. “Why do you think that?”
“Not think. Know.”
I didn’t believe him, but he believed it, and clearly he had no intention of disclosing why. I hated that he wouldn’t trust me and tell me what he knew. Especially because it involved me.
“Well, let’s get you some clean clothes while dinner cooks.” My father was about six one, so his old pre-accident clothes should fit Jack. He had some boxes out in the garage.
“Do not bother. I will venture out and find what I need.”
“But you don’t have money.”
“This will not be an issue.” He left the kitchen and went outside. To do what? I didn’t know. But I needed space. We’d been in a car together in silence for over seven hours. My life was falling to pieces, mostly because of him, but also not. It had been shit before he came along.
The question was: Would things ever get better or just get worse? I was about to find out.
CHAPTER TEN
I didn’t actually remember going to sleep, but when I woke the next morning to the sound of pots and pans clanking in the kitchen, I was shocked by how late I’d slept in.
Ten fifteen? I hadn’t slept this much in ages. There was always too much to do.
I hopped from bed, wondering what Jack was doing in the kitchen. I couldn’t imagine a man like him cooking.
I slid my pink bathrobe over my flannel shorts and T-shirt and padded to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway.
What the…? My dad was up on two feet, looking rosy cheeked, with a spatula in his hand. Jack sat at the breakfast bar across the counter, drinking coffee.
“Jeni!” my dad said, warmth radiating from his lively brown eyes. “You didn’t say you were coming home this weekend and bringing your friend here.” My dad walked over and hugged me tight. He still felt like my father, a little doughy around the midsection, and he certainly sounded like my father, but he wasn’t acting like my father. At least, not the one I’d left behind over a week ago.
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