Everyone Keeps Secrets (Romantic Suspense Saga: Part 1)

by Katherine Greyson

  Stepping into Jake’s small living room, I had to blink rapidly to adjust to the dark interior. The place was barren: no pictures, no curtains, no homey signs that human beings actually lived there. Based on the patterns of dust and fading, the furnishings hadn’t been moved in years. Sun-bleached carpeting encircled the furniture like a chalk outline around a dead body. A thick layer of dust, piled high, covered almost everything else. A single blanket and pillow lay on one end of a worn-out, brown couch. It looked to me like someone had been using it for their bed. A few boxes were piled here and there—not taped, just hastily folded over at the tabs.

  “Did you just move in?” I asked, trying to give Jake a way to save face for the disorder of his dilapidated home.

  He groaned and looked around. “Yeah—a couple of days ago.” He took off his leather jacket, tossed his keys onto a small dinette table, and then gestured to Gabe. “You can take a seat if you want.”

  “Thanks.” Gabe nodded, but didn’t sit down.

  Jake walked over to the refrigerator, pulled out some ice cubes, and dropped them into a plastic bag. He tossed it high in the air to Gabe. “You might want to try that on your knuckles.”

  Gabe snagged it and looked down at the yellowish ice cubes in the bag. He swallowed. “Appreciate it, man.”

  Jake gave him a short nod and walked off down a narrow hallway. He flicked on a switch, and I heard the sound of a bathroom fan wheeze to life. Jake looked back to me and then waved his fingers inward, beckoning me to follow. Still unsure, I turned to Gabe. He raised his eyebrow, touched a side table, and then rubbed the dust off his fingers. With the bag of ice on his swollen hand, he continued to eye the living room as he sat down.

  I took a deep breath, turned and then followed Jake.

  As I peeked around the corner, I saw Jake crouched down. He was searching for something under the bathroom cabinet sink.

  “I thought I saw a bottle of it in here.”

  Nervously, I waited in the claustrophobia-inducing hallway. The walls, covered in mottled-gray fake-wood panels, added to the eerie feel of the mobile home. Jake stood up, held up a dark-brown bottle with a faded label and a facecloth. He gestured for me to come into the tiny bathroom. I looked at the small space between him and the sink. “I don’t think I can squeeze in there.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  I hesitated. “I don’t think—”

  He stepped toward me, snagged me around the waist, and drew me in; my backside pressed up against the sink as I awkwardly stumbled in compliance. Jake smiled. “You’re so skinny—ten of you could fit in here.”

  I blushed.

  He scrunched his tall frame down and lowered his head to get a good look at my cut. “I can’t see it. Hop up on the counter.” He waited.

  “…Um.”

  He shook his head at me, put down the bottle, and placed his hands on either side of my hips. Without much effort, he raised me up onto the counter and sat me down on the edge of the sink. I felt tiny in his big, strong hands. Gently, he lifted up my chin. “That’s better.”

  Goosebumps flew across my skin.

  He poured the clear liquid onto the cloth and held it up. “This may hurt.” With care, he leaned forward and softly touched the facecloth to my skin.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked softly.

  I kept my eyes glued on the wall as I nervously answered, “No.”

  “Good.”

  It was strange to have a guy fuss over me like this. He was so close. Feelings swirled inside my body and overwhelmed my already spinning head.

  When his muscular thighs pressed against my lower legs, a charged thrill raced through my body.

  A second later, the sharp sting from my chin interrupted the pleasant sensation. “Oww!” I flinched. “What is that stuff?”

  “Hydrogen peroxide.”

  I could hear the cut bubbling. “It hurts now.” I clenched my teeth.

  “I know. I’m sorry, but you have to clean the wound out.” While he continued to press the cloth to my face, he tilted his head and studied me. As his roving eyes scanned back and forth, it felt like his gaze was actually touching my skin.

  The medicine stung a little deeper. “Ouch!” I pulled away. “I don’t like that stinging and those weird popping sounds. Don’t you have something else?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I’m helping you out. And what were you expecting? Some Bactine and a Barbie Band-Aid.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You could show a little more compassion.”

  He made a boyish, crooked grin. “Well maybe if you hold still for once, I’ll give you a boo-boo kiss.”

  My eyes widened and my chest heaved in an odd mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. No boy had ever even tried to kiss me—I suspected fear of my dad kept them all far away. I realized Jake being new to our town had no clue who my father was.

  “You shouldn’t say things like that to a girl—lady.”

  He smirked. “It was a joke.”

  “Oh...” I deflated.

  “It shouldn’t hurt as bad now.” He focused back on my chin. “How does that feel?”

  “Weird. I can still hear that popping sound. Why is that?”

  With his attention focused on my chin, he casually answered, “The hydrogen peroxide is interacting with your body’s catalase enzymes. They’re breaking down into water and oxygen. What you’re hearing is the oxygen gas being released.”

  My eyes flew wide open as I stared at him in shock.

  Instantly, he froze. He looked like a boy caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

  I made a one-eyed squint.

  “Well, I’ve blown it.” He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “Anyways, what did you think I was? Nothing but a dumb hick who lives in a trailer?”

  “No,” I countered and shook my head.

  Yet I had to admit—based on his appearance and where he lived—that was exactly what I had thought. I exhaled, and then slowly I nodded. “Yes. I thought you were nothing but a poor, dumb hick.”

  He retracted his head, clearly not expecting that answer. “You’re honest, aren’t you?”

  “Sometimes,” I sighed, “to a fault.”

  He placed his hands down on either side of the sink and leaned in. His soft brown eyes searched my face. “So tell me, now that Gabe’s not here—why did you jump into that fight?”

  I stifled a nervous cough.

  He lowered his head and peeked one eye up at me. “Was it to save me?”

  “No—well, yes . . . sort of. . .” I shook my head. “I was concerned you were seriously hurt.”

  He glanced at me. “So you’d do that for anyone?”

  “Yes.” I nodded firmly. “Yes, I would.”

  He gave me another quick peek under his thick eyebrows. “So it wasn’t because you thought I was cute or anything?”

  “No,” I quickly retorted. “Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t have a white-knight complex, if you must know.”

  He smiled and nodded. “You’re complex all right.”

  I squeezed my fist trying to stop myself from blushing.

  Slowly, he twisted the cover back on the bottle. “So you’re like Princess Artemisia.”

  “Who?”

  “Artemisia. She was a Princess who fought alongside her troops in battle. Rather rare for a woman to do 2500 years ago.”

  “I’ve never heard of her. Where was she from?”

  “Greece.”

  “Oh.”

  His handsome face was open and friendly. “She was pretty tough too. Fought alongside King Xerxes.”

  I shook my head. “I never heard of a Princess who was sort of—”

  “Badass.”

  “Not exactly the word I was looking for.”

  “But accurate.” He made a half-crooked smile.

  I lowered my head. “How do you know all this stuff?”

  “I read. Mostly obscure books.” He flashed a quick peek at my reaction. “You know.
The kind the library sells for a buck-a-book in those little rolling carts at the front door.”

  I nodded as I studied him. Jake was turning into a very different person than the one I had imagined. He seemed like such a cliché bad-boy at first glance but the more I got to know him I realized how superficial my first impression had been.

  As something swirled inside of me, the energy in the room grew. Nervously I swallowed. “Are we done?”

  “Do you want a Band-Aid? I think I used my last pink Barbie one this morning, but my brother might have a green camo one left.”

  “Funny,” I smirked, and then pulled back trying to put some space between us, “but I think I’ll cover it with a little makeup.”

  “Suit yourself, but I bet you’d look darn cute with one right across that adorable chin of yours.” He touched the tip of my nose.

  My mouth went instantly dry. All the double dates I’d gone on were with gangly, goofy teen boys who were completely unsure of themselves. Jake wasn’t like that at all. He was self-assured and very intense. The way he looked at me unnerved and thrilled me all at once.

  Unsure of what the heck I was feeling, I went on offense. “You know it really freaked me out hearing your jaw crack like that. I honestly thought you were seriously hurt.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  I examined his black shirt, but the color made it impossible to see if there were any dried bloodstains; the only visible injuries I could see were his roughed up knuckles. “Well, I don’t believe you.”

  He cocked an eyebrow and snickered. “You think I’m hiding a broken rib?”

  “No, but that was quite a beating. You must be hurt way more than you’re letting on.”

  “Doubt it.” He lifted his chin. “I’ve been through worse.”

  In a tone that dripped with sarcasm, I asked, “So you don’t have any cuts or bruises?”

  “I didn’t say that, but I’ve been in a lot more pain than this.”

  I goaded, “Well, I still don’t believe you. You must have at least one bruise on you that’s worse than mine.”

  “Fine. See for yourself.” He turned away, crossed his arms and then smoothly pulled his black T-shirt over his head.

  My stomach quivered at the sight of his toned, muscular back. His smooth physique was like a dancer’s. I took in a deep breath trying to cool down, but that only made things worse when I inhaled his masculine scent. My head spun from the enticing aroma. The girl inside of me wanted to reach out and touch his tanned, warm skin. Leaning forward, I began to daydream. He was tall . . . and broad . . . and strong . . . I slipped off the sink.

  He looked over at me.

  I righted myself.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  I regained my self-control. That’s when I noticed a welt forming on his side.

  “Oh, crud. You are hurt.” I snapped out of my stupor, grabbed the towel, and instantly went into mothering mode. I shimmied down between him and the sink to examine the injury closer. “That looks bad. Turn.”

  He looked down at me nursing him and chuckled.

  Then I saw more. Bruises were forming all over his stomach. “Snap!” I shook my head. “These are awful. They must be painful.”

  Casually he held his hands above his head as he let me nurse him. “Like I said, I’ve gotten worse.”

  “Uh-huh.” I patted the spots of dried blood.

  He grinned down at me with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Pain doesn’t affect me like it affects some people.”

  Catching his drift, I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

  He smirked and nodded.

  I grabbed the bottle and poured a load of hydrogen peroxide onto the cloth. Then I pressed it against one of his open cuts.

  “Ouch!” He flinched.

  “Yeah. You’re real tough.”

  Jake flashed a dimpled smile.

  After I finished cleaning his cuts, I shook my head. “I don’t understand you at all. You start a fight, take on half the football team, for what? Gabe gave you a chance to walk away.”

  He stared at the wall.

  “You don’t seem like the type of person that cares about what other people think.”

  His head snapped around. “You think I care about that?”

  “No.”

  He nodded and then looked off.

  I glanced up at his somber brown eyes. “So why’d you do it then?”

  He debated for a moment, but this time he gave me an answer. “I wanted to get expelled.”

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  He paused before continuing. “I want to get off-the-grid.”

  I tilted my head, still puzzled.

  He exhaled. “I prefer to interact as little as possible with the rest of the world.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Oh, going for Brooding Teen of the Year Award?”

  He mumbled, “Yeah . . . something like that.”

  I stood back up. “I’m glad you didn’t get hurt any worse. I thought you were in real trouble when you were slumped on the ground. You looked so worn-down and defeated. Then you jumped up. What changed?”

  His expression was earnest as he spoke the words. “Maybe I saw something to fight for.”

  He couldn’t possibly be talking about me, could he?

  I shook the absurd thought from my head. “Well, it was awesome. How you sprang up and fought to defend . . . me.” My voice trailed off.

  He looked straight into my eyes. “I wanted to return the favor.”

  I looked down at the cloth. “For what? This?”

  “No. For coming to my rescue, Princess.”

  I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “I help lots of people—”

  He started to move closer and my stomach flipped.

  His milk chocolate eyes looked deeply into mine. I pressed back against the sink.

  He bit his lip.

  I gulped, nervous I was about to receive my first kiss.

  As he edged closer, his eyes scanned my face—like he was seeking some sign of approval. I gawked at him like an idiot. All I could think about were those lips six inches away from mine, his warm breath’s hot and cold assault on my skin, and the charge that electrified the little bathroom.

  “Hey, you two all right in there?” Gabe called out.

  Damn! Stupid Gabe.

  Jake, rattled, pulled back.

  I squeaked out, “Yeah.”

  Gabe began walking down the hallway toward us. Jake quickly threw his shirt on bumping me once. The accidental contact sent a funny shiver up my spine. Flustered, I stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway.

  “Hey, are you okay?” He drew his eyebrows close together and gave me the once-over. “You’re all flush and stuff.”

  I touched at my cheek. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just hot in here.” I fanned myself, trying to cover for my embarrassment. I knew why I was hot, and it wasn’t from the temperature.

  “But—”

  “Gabe,” Jake interjected. “I’ve got something for you.” He moved down the hallway and drew Gabe’s attention away from me.

  Gabe, and then I followed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Behind Hidden Masks