Marked 1 The Missing Link J M Sevilla

Marked.

Part I:

The missing Link

By J.M. Sevilla

whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical

articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are

products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living

or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

Marked.

Part I: The missing Link

By J.M. Sevilla

Book One of a Two part series.

For My Husband who always remains his own person,

is never ashamed to be different,

and thinks so far outside the box you can't even see a box.

Chapter 1

Wednesday, December 25
4:34pm

The awkward silence filling the room has everyone shifting uncomfortably in their seats. Their

eyes dart around the room, pausing on family photos to examine them as if they hold great importance.
Nobody wants to bring up the white elephant in the room, but it's obvious that's all anyone can think
about.

The white elephant, unfortunately, is me, and the faded bruise on my cheek. Thank God they can't

see my stomach and the ugly yellowish-purple one that takes up most of it.

So I wait, twirling my straight, shoulder length, golden-brown hair around my finger, chewing on

my bottom lip. Waiting for the moment when a family member's curiosity gets the best of them and the
questions begin.

The sound of heels clipping the hardwood floor becomes everyone's new area of focus.
My mom enters and smiles, holding up a tray full of appetizers, “Who wants some mini quiche?”
The murmur of pleases and thank-yous hums around the room as my mom goes person to person,

offering them a napkin and a pre-feast snack.

The last person is served and she leaves the tray on the coffee table, retreating back to the

kitchen. I want to scream at her to come back and not leave me alone with these people and their
prying eyes, but instead I remain silent, watching her as she deserts me. I'm hoping maternal instinct
will kick in and she'll sense my unease and come back to rescue me.

No such luck.
I let out a sigh and go back to twisting my hair and staring at an invisible spot on the floor. The

silence is irritating me now. Somebody say something, anything!

“So,” Uncle Ned speaks up, clearing his throat. “Would it bother anyone if I turned on the

game?”

Nobody minds and I want to kiss my uncle for giving everyone a distraction and noise to drown

out the silence. We all become overly absorbed in the game. Occasionally, one of them will glance
my way. I don't acknowledge them because I will be faced with expressions of concern (a look I'm
beginning to loathe), and curious eyes not wanting to ask but dying to know what happened.

We all know the minute my aunt Lisa arrives; it's impossible not to. My aunt comes in two

volumes: loud, and obnoxiously loud.

“Margret!” She cries from a distant spot in the house, but she might as well have been standing in

the living room with how clearly we can hear her. “Where should I put the casserole? You look
lovely! It's not fair that we are only two years apart yet you look ten years younger!”

My mom replies, but it's hard to make out what she says. I can tell when they reach the kitchen

because my aunt starts yammering on about the food and wanting to make sure she isn't overcooking
the ham (she wasn't being rude, my mom overcooks it every year).

A few moments later (after my mom and her older sister finish pleasantries) my aunt comes to the

living room. The minute she sees me a deep, saddened frown is placed on her lips.

Here we go.
“Oh, Lily.” She hurries over and pulls me into her arms for a hug, “Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry.

How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” I mumble into her over-teased permed hair, trying not to choke on the overpowering

stench of too much hairspray.

She holds me out at arms length, her fake nails digging into my shoulders, and searches my face

for the signs of misery only a broken, damaged heart can bring.

She can look as deep as she wants, but she won't find anything.
“Really, I'm okay,” I reassure her, patting her on the arm.
“Of course you are, dear,” Aunt Lisa returns a sympathetic pat on my shoulder. She doesn't

believe me; it's written all over her face.

I sit back down and notice all ten heads of my family are watching us, examining me, waiting for

the breakdown they all know is coming. I hold back the urge to roll my eyes at them.

“Did he really hit you?” My ten-year-old cousin, Molly, finally gets up the courage to ask.
“Yup.” I reply, picking at my nails.
Clucking of tongues and disapproving head shakes pass around the room.
“Wow, so the bruising on your cheek is from him?” Uncle Ned shoots Molly a warning glance to

not be so nosy, while everyone else leans in with great interest. “What? We all want to know exactly
what happened, I'm just the only one brave enough to ask.” Nobody disagrees.

“Yeah, it is,” I say, responding to her question. More tsks and frowns come from my family. “I'm

going to see if my mom needs any help.”

They all nod in understanding, and I can tell they think I'm leaving to shed tears.
As soon as I leave their prying eyes I hear the soft whispers of their gossip.
“Poor thing.”
“She's barely holding on.”
“She's heartbroken.”
“Wouldn't you be? They were together for almost two years.”
“I never thought Will would be the type of guy to do something like that.”
I pick up my pace so I don't have to hear any more.
I let out a loud sigh and slump against the main wall of the kitchen. This evening has been the

longest of my life and it's only thirty minutes in.

Ugh. Family is exhausting.
My mom's pulling out the ham when she starts to speak to me over her shoulder, “Everything

alright?”

“Yeah, I just needed to get away from that room and everyone’s sympathetic faces.”
She closes the oven door and walks over to me, cupping her hand over my non-bruised cheek.

Her honey-colored eyes (which are identical to my own) are wearing the same pity as the
claustrophobic room I'd just left. “They love you and are concerned. It's barely been three weeks
since it happened. How are you holding up?”

“I'm fine!” I throw my hands up in frustration, “I'm tired of everyone thinking I'm going to have a

mental breakdown at any second.”

“No need to get snippy,” my mom huffs, resuming her cooking.
“Sorry. Can I help with anything?”
“Sure,” she walks over to the counter by the sink. “Can you please...” She trails off, frowning

when something out the window catches her eye. She squints and leans over the sink to get a better
view. “Oh, my. Taco Bell? On Christmas?” Her frown deepens and her eyebrows knit together in
worriment.

“What?” I ask, coming closer to see out the window, scanning all around our quiet cul-de-sac.
“The new neighbor across the street came home with Taco Bell in his hand,” she breathes out,

covering her mouth like this is the worst thing to ever happen on Christmas.

“So?”
“So, it's Christmas. No one should be alone on Christmas. Go over there and invite him over.”

She starts pushing me out of the kitchen, “Hurry, before he starts eating that garbage.”

“We had that garbage two nights ago,” I point out, firmly planting my feet to the floor.
“Well the other night wasn't Christmas. Now go!” She commands.
“We don't even know the guy,” I whine in protest. Knocking on a complete stranger's door to

invite him over to share a holiday meal with my family does not sound like fun to me.

“Know who?” My thirteen year old brother, Seth, inquires, munching on a big bag of chips,

placing his ever present skateboard on the kitchen wall.

Mom grabs the chips from his hand, “We'll be eating soon.”
He snatches the bag back, “I'm hungry. We won't be eating for another hour and I finished off the

rest of the appetizers.”

My stepbrother, Cody, who is a year older than Seth, comes in and drops his board next to Seth's

and reaches his hand inside the chip bag.

It disgusts me how much my brothers can eat and not have an ounce of fat on them. If I ate a

whole bag of chips my skin would break out, I'd gain five pounds, and I'd be bloated until New
Year's. It's not fair.

“Go, Lily,” Mom nudges me.
“Go where?” Cody asks, shoveling a fistful of crumbs into his mouth.
“I want her to invite the new neighbor over to share Christmas dinner with us. He's all alone in

that house. He never has anyone over. I'm sure he's lonely.”

“Or a murdering psychopath,” Seth cuts in. “Have you seen him, Mom? That dude scares the crap

out of me.”

Cody vigorously nods his head in agreement.
She puts her hands on her hips and gives Seth the disapproving frown all moms seem to master,

“I doubt he's killed anyone. I've talked to you about this. Being a loner with a few eye scars doesn't
make him evil. You watch too many movies.”

I love it when parents blame the media, though in my brother's case it's probably true. His

overactive brain feeds into everything he watches.

Seth shrugs, “Whatever. It's Lily's death, not mine.” He drops the empty bag into the trash and

wipes his stained fingers on his shirt (the same one he's worn for the past three days). My mom and I
cringe. At least Cody has learned to change his clothes daily and take frequent showers. I keep hoping
my brother will learn, but I don't think that will happen until girls are more important than his
skateboard, and that's not going to happen any time soon.

“What makes you think he's a murderer?” I can't believe I'm encouraging him, but curiosity got

the best of me.

He wiggles his brows, smirking, “You'll see.”
“Be careful, Lily.” Cody of course has to join in; the two feed off each other. If they didn't have

separate mothers I might think they were once conjoined twins. “Finn Jenkins' older brother said he
pulled a switchblade on a man during a bar fight, chopped off two of his fingers, then made him eat
'em!”

“Yeah,” Seth can't help but add in his own story; he lives for this kind of stuff, “The bartender

told Finn's brother that the owner of the place and him got in a yelling match, and he stabbed a pencil
through his hand!” Didn't I see that in a movie?

“Ignore them.” Mom takes hold of my shoulders from behind and leads me to the door, “Now go

before he eats and uses that as an excuse.”

A quick shove and I find myself standing on our front porch with the door slamming shut behind

me. I reluctantly make the journey across the street, growing more nervous with every step I take. I
wish I can say it's from having to knock on a complete stranger's door and ask him over for dinner, but
the sad truth is I let my brothers freak me out a little. I've never met the guy nor have I seen him in the
past eight months he's lived there, so I have no idea what I'm in for.

At least his house appears normal. Or is normal bad when you're dealing with a potential

murderer? Wouldn't they want to blend in? I shake my head, frustrated at myself for listening to my
brothers. I'm twenty-two years old and I'm letting my newly-teenage brother get inside my head. The
same brother (Seth) who tried convincing my mom his teacher was part of the CIA and gave hard tests
to try and recruit future members. My brother informed us that he was on to his plan and refused to be
a “puppet in the government's twisted experiments.” He purposely remained at a constant C-average
to keep them from knowing the true genius he was. That was a good reminder why I shouldn't listen to
a word he said; his overactive imagination was always coming up with crazy stories.

When I reach the front door I knock twice. I hear shuffling feet and then the door opens.
Our neighbor is massive, towering over my petite five-foot-three-inch frame by at least a foot,

and even though he is fully clothed, it's undeniable he packs some serious muscle.

Everything is okay until I notice his eyes. They are an average color blue, nothing special, but

what sends a tremor down my spine is the raw intensity of them. They are cold, withdrawn, and
blanketed in something dark and sinister. Another tremor travels down when I notice the scars. How
had I not noticed them right away? It looks like a three-clawed animal tried to scratch out his right
eye. The first claw mark is on his temple, the second runs along the edge of his eye, and the third is
placed close to the middle. All three start above the brow and end at the cheekbone, progressively
growing in size. The smallest one is on his temple.

Maybe my brothers were right?
Gulp.
I realize he's studying me just as intently and I start to panic.
Shit. I need to say something and not stand here like an idiot, asking to be his next murder victim.
I nervously play with my hair. “Um, my mom wanted me to invite you over for dinner,” I rush the

words, not daring to look at him because without a doubt I would have choked on the words from
fright.

I feel his eyes on me, making me more nervous by the second, but I still can't bring myself to look

directly at him again. He takes a step forward and my body stiffens in response. He rests his hands on
the edges of the door frame, causing his arm muscles to bulge out, and my eyes widen at their
monumental size. I notice he has a deep scar that runs up his right forearm, ending a few inches above
his elbow. My mouth opens to ask him what happened, but when I finally meet his glare he's
scowling at me and I cower back. My breath catches in my throat as he leans down so we are eye
level, faces inches from each other. I'm frozen in fear from the intense way he is studying me.

A low growl rumbles in the back of his throat and it snaps us out of the trance we are in. At the

same time we take a step back.

“I already ate.” The sudden sound of his gruff voice makes me jump and the door slams in my

face.

My lungs start to inhale as much air as they can, trying to regain some of the oxygen they lost from

barely breathing since the door opened. I have never met someone who has me frightened and
captivated at the same time; those eyes will definitely haunt my dreams tonight.

8:38pm

I was so distracted with thoughts of our neighbor that the evening passed and I barely remember

it. Everyone mistook my silence as despair and hardly bothered me with questions, assuming it would
be “too hard to talk about.”

Once dinner and unwrapping of gifts are over, I retreat to the kitchen, hoping to avoid anyone

getting the bright idea to talk to me about my mental state and how I'm coping.

“Are you trying to avoid everyone?” My mom asks, coming into the kitchen and handing me more

dirty dishes to clean.

“Yup.”
“At least you have a good excuse this year.”
She starts busying herself putting away food and I go back to staring out the window at a certain

house, rented by a man I'm letting consume too much of my thoughts. For someone I found so
unnerving I can't seem to get him out of my head. His animal-like scar and his eyes that harbor such
ferocity are all I can see, all I can think about.

“Hey, Lily?” My mom holds out two plates filled with food, “Can you bring this over to the

neighbor?” I hate when parents tell you to do something but state it as a question like you have a
choice.

“Can't Seth do it?” Just because I can't stop thinking about the man does not mean I have any

desire to see him again. I've seen enough movies to know he's trouble, and definitely someone I
should avoid.

“No, he's working on an assignment in his room.”
Oh please, he's using school work as an excuse to get out of helping to clean up. The only thing

my brother takes seriously and puts any effort into is skateboarding.

“Mom, he really creeps me out. I don't want to go back.”
“You're just being silly.”
Maybe she's right, but I still don't want to go. “No thanks.”
“Lily,” she uses her warning tone to let me know her disappointment, “he's all alone on

Christmas. The least we can do is make sure he has a warm cooked meal to eat. Where's your
humanity?”

“Why don't you bring it to him then?” I cross my arms in defiance.
“Because I've been cooking all day and I think I deserve to rest my feet.”
Damn. She got me there.
“Fine,” I grumble, taking the food and heading out the door.
I expected the pounding heart from my slight fear, but the tiny flutter in my stomach surprises me

as I knock on his door.

The door opens and he cocks his head to the side, looking confused to see me there, “Didn't scare

you off the first time?” His voice doesn't have the same gruffness from before. This time it's warmly
inviting.

My cheeks flush with embarrassment that my fear is so clearly evident to him, “My mom wanted

you to have a plate.” I hold the food out and before he takes it he rubs his hand on top of his
overgrown, dark-blond buzz cut as the surprise on his face goes up a notch, “and here's some pumpkin
pie, too.”

“Uh, thanks.” He takes the other plate full of various desserts, “Most moms cross the street when

they see me coming, not send their daughters over with dessert.” Now he appears amused, a half
smile forming on his face.

I laugh, “My mom's a nurse. She can't stop herself from wanting to make sure everyone's taken

care of.”

He raises the non-scarred brow at me, “So you're here to take care of me?” His lips start to

twitch in amusement.

Is he flirting with me? I bite down on my lip and blush. I have no idea what to say next.
“A word of caution,” I warn, needing something to say, “my mom only cooks on Christmas. Why

she does this to herself every year is beyond me, but she loves it so we let her. She thinks she
becomes Julia Child or something, but she's not. Not even close. That being said, about half the food
on that plate's not that good. But I made the pie. Pumpkin pie is my ultimate favorite dessert, and at
nine years old I taught myself how to make it. I've gotten pretty good. I don't even need a recipe
anymore.” I take in a gulp of air from not breathing during my mini-ramble.

“Okay, well, thanks,” his intense eyes stare at me a moment longer and then he shuts the door.
How did I manage to look like a fool the two times I've been here? And whats worse – why do I

care?

I head home, determined to get strangely-frightening-yet-oddly-enticing-guy out of my head. For

reasons I can't explain, I want to know him better.

Chapter 2

Tuesday, December 31
9:13pm

“You ready to have some fun tonight?!” My best friend Stevie shouts throwing open my bedroom

door, looking dynamite in a tight aqua dress and gray peep-toe pumps. “I brought some bubbly to get
us started.” She sits on my bed and uncorks the champagne, taking a drink straight from the bottle.

“Classy,” Naomi, my other best friend, says as she joins us on the bed and rests back on her

elbows. She's dressed in her typical motorcycle-loving attire of zipped up black leather biker jacket,
skin-tight jeans, and her Harley Davidson black leather riding boots. Her tightly curled, blond hair is
untamed and wild.

“That's what I'm all about...class,” Stevie grins, taking another swig, her bottom lip piercing

clinking against the glass.

The three of us have been best friends since the sixth grade. One day, Stevie showed up in the

same clothes she'd worn the day before (her dad's a gambling drunk and Stevie had had to take care of
herself from the time she could walk. Sometimes her dad would gamble away everything, leaving no
money for her to go to a laundromat.) and a group of kids started teasing and shoving her, making fun
of her size-too-small ratty clothes. Naomi stepped in and clocked the boy who had pushed Stevie
down, daring anyone else to fight her. I watched the whole thing from the swings, stomach in knots for
Stevie because I knew it was wrong, but I'd always been tiny and I was afraid to do anything. I was in
awe of Naomi – still am – she has never been afraid to step in when help is needed, no matter how
scary the situation. She doesn't let people push her around and can be very bossy at times. We are
each others' polar opposites, but it works for us. After the crowd disbursed I jumped down and ran
over to Naomi and Stevie, offering Stevie my brownie in my lunch pail (even at a young age I knew
the healing power of chocolate). The three of us sat on the grass, sharing the brownie before recess
was over, and we've been best friends ever since. From then on Naomi and I made sure Stevie was
never without clean, fitting clothes, and Stevie was practically raised by Naomi's biker parents, who
look rough and tough but are the coolest, most down to earth people you will ever meet (as long as
you don't get on their bad side). If she wasn't at Naomi's house she stayed with me. She only returned
home every Thursday to drop food off for her dad and make sure he hadn't drunk himself to death and
was rotting in their trailer.

I take a strand of Stevie's beautifully long, wavy hair and admire the new plum purple she'd dyed

it, “This is my favorite color so far.”

She's always changing her hair color to unconventional shades. Over the summer it was a pink-

gray, and that was stunning on her too. She has the kind of skin tone that can pull off any color.

“Thanks! The men at the shop really dig it. Who knew my hair color would bring in more

business?” She works as a tattoo artist and is greatly respected for her detailed work. As you would
assume, a fair amount of her skin is covered in tats.

“That and your ta-tas,” Naomi points to The Girls.
Stevie takes hold of her fake, size D breasts and gives them an affectionate squeeze, “I love The

Girls, they never let me down. Best investment I've ever made.”

I pry the bottle from Stevie's clutches and have a turn.

Naomi beams at me, making her adorable dimples show, “It's good to have you home. We'll get

to see more of each other instead of every few months.”

“And the fact that this is the first time since the three of us have been legally able to drink and

we're all single!” Stevie chimes in, “Will was such a downer about you going anywhere without
him.”

Naomi’s happy smile shifts to a pitying frown, “Speaking of Will, how are you holding up?” She

places a sympathetic hand on my knee.

“I wish everyone would quit asking me that,” I sigh before taking too much champagne into my

mouth and causing the bubbles to feel like rocks goings down. “I'm fine.”

Naomi's pale blue eyes lock with Stevie's emerald green (she continually changes their color too,

with contacts) and they exchange unspoken words.

“We just want to make sure you're okay.”
All anybody wants to talk about is what happened. I decide to change the subject, “What bar are

we going to?”

“Do you even need to ask?”
I laugh because Stevie's right. There is only one bar worth going to in our town: The Recovery

Room. The rest of them are sports bars or clubs that think they’re cool because they have cover
charges and offer fancy places to sit while you drink their overpriced cocktails.

“When was the last time the three of us went out?” Naomi wonders.
“I think it was when you guys came up to visit me for that weekend in June.”
“I don't count that,” Stevie informs me, “Will made you come home at eleven, even though he

was glued to your side the entire time and he wouldn't let you drink for some bullshit reason.”

“We had to wake up early the next day. He didn't want me tired and hungover.” Why am I still

defending that asshole?

Naomi grunts, “That should have been your decision, not his.”
“Whatever,” I stand up and head for my door. I don't want to ruin our evening by talking about

him, “Lets get going.”

“Wait,” Stevie stops me from leaving, “Don't you need to get ready first?”
I look down at my twill military shirt and fitted boyfriend jeans. When I moved back home a few

weeks ago I hadn't brought any of my clothes with me. The wardrobe I'd left behind symbolized the
mess I had let my life become. The jeans, skirts, concert tees, flirty tops – the usual young adult attire
– that it was once filled with had been replaced with a-line pencil skirts, cashmere cardigans, and full
coverage blouses. All were hand picked by my boyfriend of course, who convinced me when I
graduated that I needed to start acting like a grown-up and not a college student. I listened, I agreed, I
conformed to what he wanted me to be. Now that I'm home my only clothes left are from high school,
and since I quit my job the day I left him (I was his father's secretary) I have no money to purchase
anything new.

“I don't exactly have choices,” it comes out more hostile than I intend, mainly because I don't

want them knowing I chose this outfit specifically because it revealed no skin and I still had Will's
voice ringing in my head to stop dressing like a slut. Now looking back I realize how absurd that was.
I was never modest in my attire, but it was far from slutty.

“At least let me add a little more makeup,” Stevie leads me to the bathroom and takes out my

cosmetics bag.

Naomi stands in the doorway and watches while she adds eyeliner, blush, and lip gloss. They

both see right through my reason for wearing my outfit. They had been trying to get me to stop

dressing like his perfect Stepford girlfriend for over a year now. I know the only reason Stevie is
adding more makeup is because I haven't been able to wear any since I left Will. I did my hair and
makeup the way he liked it for so long that now it's the only way I know how. I don't want to be his
puppet anymore so I opt for only concealer and mascara when I do decide to wear any.

“There,” Stevie puts down the lip gloss to fix my hair, making my ponytail more messy and

stylish, “much better. With every passing day you look more like the loving, kindhearted Lily we
love, and not the meek, docile girl who possessed you for the past two years.”

“Like I said earlier,” Naomi pulls me into a hug, “it's good to have you home in more ways than

one.”

10:11pm

“We are never going to get in,” Naomi complains as we approach the long line to The Recovery

Room.

“Man, this sucks. We should have realized everyone in town would be out tonight,” Stevie starts

scanning the line, looking for anyone we might know who will let us join them.

A sharp whistle rings out and we snap our heads to the front door where it came from.
An odd tingle tickles my skin when I see my neighbor guarding the entryway. It's the same one I

got the other day when I was getting into the passengers side of my dad's car to go out to dinner and I
saw my neighbor getting into his truck. He had stopped when he noticed me watching him and we both
stood, unmoving, taking the other in. After a beat or two he flipped his black shades down from the
top of his head and got in his truck.

This past week I tried pushing him to the back of my thoughts, which was hard to do because he

consumed a good portion of them. I wanted to slap the stupid out of myself every time I considered
going back over to talk to him more. I'm not usually one who goes looking for trouble, but I'm
intrigued.

“Was he whistling at us?” Naomi asks, confused, moving her head to see who else it could be.
He's staring at us...or at least I think he is; it's hard to tell with his black shades on. He must have

noticed our confusion because he lifts his shades and my friends gasp, as well as the people standing
in the front of the line.

“Fucking creepy,” Stevie mutters under her breath.
“He's staring at us,” Naomi says, not looking pleased.
His eyes lock with mine and the strange tingling sensation returns.
“That's my neighbor.”
“Wow, he looks like someone who'd live above a bar, not the suburbs,” Stevie responds.
He gives a slight nod for us to come over, then puts his shades back down. It frightens me how

willing my body is to comply.

“Lily, what are you doing?!” Naomi whisper-shouts behind me as I make my way to him.
When I reach the front he steps aside for us to enter.
“Damn, that guy is a gladiator meets spartan beast!” Stevie exclaims so loudly I'm sure anyone

close by heard.

My neighbor smirks.
“Are you the bouncer?” I stupidly ask.
“Well of course he is, dummy,” Stevie steps in front of me to eye him better. She's five-nine and

her head still has to look up to see his face. “Look at him, who would mess with that?” She waves a
finger at his raw, hard muscles to emphasize her point.

Mysterious neighbor guy chuckles, “I like your friend. She's smart.” His voice is just as inviting

as I remember: masculine, rich, warm, and deep.

“Does this mean you're letting us in?” Stevie asks hopefully, batting her enviously thick lashes.
“Yeah, I owe my neighbor here for the pie she brought me.”
Both my friends gape at me and I nudge them inside.
“Thanks,” I smile at him.
“For every pie you bring me, I'll let you and whoever you're with straight in.”
“You liked it?”
“Best fucking thing I ever put in my mouth.” He gives me a slight half smile before resuming his

hard expression and turning back to face the crowd. Never in my life has my heart beat this fast from a
compliment; I feel it in my ribcage, my throat, my veins, everywhere. Shit, I'm in trouble.

I easily find my friends at the crowded bar trying to order drinks. Naomi hands me my usual:

vodka gimlet on the rocks.

“You made him a pie?” Naomi seems disturbed, and the all too familiar look of concern takes

over, “Is this because of Will? Because that scary ass gladiator-killer isn't going to help you move
on.”

I'm so sick of everything I do relating back to Will. “It has nothing to do with Will. My mom,” I

state clearly, “asked me to bring him a plate on Christmas because he was all alone. That's it. I guess
this was his way of thanking me.”

“I'd do him,” Stevie chimes in, taking a sip of her beer.
Naomi rolls her eyes, “That's only because you like it twisted and kinky.” She has never

approved of Stevie's sexual lifestyle. Anything goes with her, and I mean anything: boys, girls,
groups, bondage – you name it, she'll try it. She's not a slut though, she’s quite selective in who she
chooses. She just likes it “nasty” as Naomi would say.

“That I do,” she purrs in response to Naomi's comment, grazing the broad muscular back of my

neighbor. “I bet he likes it rough and hard.”

“You're sick. He's scary looking, and to quote your first impression of him, 'fucking creepy',”

Naomi points out.

“He is,” Stevie shrugs, “but damn, that body.” She hungrily licks her lips, letting her tongue ring

scrape along the outer edges as her eyes travel down to his ass. “There's something about him. He's
one hot, lick-able, sexy-ass man. And those eyes, what's up with those?”

“They're fascinating,” I breathe in agreement, not meaning to reply but the words just fall out.
“Definitely. They appear blackhearted and threatening, but for a split second when he looked at

Lily they softened. I think he likes you.” Stevie's remark brings on a small wave of butterflies and I
take another drink, trying to hide my face behind the glass. My friends know me too well and I'm sure
my feelings are obvious to them.

“You both are crazy. Lily’s suffering from a broken heart, so she’s not thinking clearly, but you

have no excuse,” Naomi points a finger at Stevie, wiggling it, daring her to defend herself.

“I'm not interested in him,” I quickly blurt out, “I was only agreeing that his eyes are unique.”
Naomi lets out a “humph” from the back of her throat, “Evil's a more accurate description.”
“Can we please talk about something besides my neighbor?”
“Are your Dad and Jill back from their cruise yet?” Naomi asks.
Cody is Jill's son. My dad married Jill when Cody was five, raising him as his own. His

biological father skipped out on them when he was only a year old. I don't even think my dad
remembers Cody's not technically his. He loves and cares for Cody exactly as he does for Seth and I.

“They got home last Friday. He asked about you two and was hoping we could plan a day to have

you guys over for dinner.”

Stevie lights up, “Yes, please! Your dad's food is orgasmic! Name a time and I'm there.”
“Ditto!” Naomi exclaims, with the same level of fervor.
“Okay, I'll set it up.”
Stevie downs a shot of whiskey, “Are you going to go back to switching houses every week?”
My brothers have switched houses every other week since the day Dad married Jill. I remember

when I was younger thinking it was weird that Jill didn't care if her son stayed with another mom so
often, but now that I'm older I realize she probably liked it. It gave her and my dad alone time in the
beginning of their relationship, when they were hot and heavy for each other. I switched too until I left
for college.

“Naw, I prefer to stay with my mom. It's nice to have a break from my brothers and their friends.

Plus, I can go see him whenever I want to.” When my parents divorced, my dad bought a house a few
blocks down from ours so he could be easily accessible to us. Lucky for Seth and me, Jill loved the
house and wanted to stay living there when they got married.

Stevie takes another shot of whiskey, “Is it weird living at home again? I'd rather saw off my own

arm than have to live with my dad again.”

“It's not so bad. I love not having to use laundromats, there's always an abundance of food, and

consistently hot water. Three things my life has been lacking since I went away to college. The part
that sucks is having someone needing to know where I am at all times again.”

Stevie lets out one hard laugh, “Will was no different. He had to know what you were doing

every second of the day, and if he didn't he would text you every minute until you called him.”

“True, but it's different when your boyfriend does it than your mom.”
“I disagree. Your mom does it because she loves and worries about you. Will did it because he

needed to control you and had some weird sense of ownership crap with you. He was fucking
obsessed.”

“That's being a bit dramatic. He wasn't that bad. He just needs order and structure. He can't stand

not being in control of all aspects of his life.”

“Did he get violent any other time?” Naomi casually asks, but I can tell she as been brewing on

this, “I mean, he always seemed to have a temper with you.”

“Are you asking if we had an abusive relationship?” My stomach starts churning and my chest

feels heavier, making it hard to breathe.

An unspoken conversation transpires between Naomi and Stevie. They've obviously been talking

about me behind my back.

“Kind of. We just always worried that he might one day. After the St. Patrick’s Day party, we've

been a little afraid.” Naomi speaks cautiously, as if this was a damn intervention. We are already
broken up!

“No, it was the first time,” I sneer, grinding my teeth. “What does it matter now anyway? We're

over.”

Both eyes flicker to the bouncer, my neighbor, and I feel my blood start to boil.
“You both think I'm attracted to him because abuse is all I know!” I keep my voice low, but the

menace behind my words is not lost.

There is another secretive, knowing glance between them. Now I'm getting pissed.

Stevie sighs, “It's not that, we're just worried about you. You don't want to talk about it and keep

pretending like it's no big deal.”

My breathing is becoming erratic as I try to calm the rage I feel building up. I didn't even realize I

had been chewing on my lip until the distinct taste of blood hits my tongue.

“That's because it's not.”
“Two years is a long time to be with someone for what happened to not affect you,” Naomi has

turned on her authoritative tone that up until now never bothered me, “but to be honest, I was more
worried you two would get married and he'd take his weird sense of ownership of you to another
level.”

“How long have you two felt this way about me and Will?”
They shoot another glance at each other and I tighten my fists in aggravation.
“Almost from the beginning,” Stevie softly answers.
“And you never came to me about it?” I'm proud of myself for keeping my voice at a steady level.
“You really liked him, but there was always something about him that was a bit off. At first we

both just didn't like him. It wasn't until the St. Patrick's Day party that we began to worry.”

“So you're telling me that the two of you have been talking behind my back for two years!?” I

shout back at them, feeling hurt and betrayed.

Naomi reaches for my arm but I shrug it off. “It wasn't like that. It's not like we consistently

talked about you and sat around gossiping.”

“I need to get some fresh air,” I finish my drink and set it on the bar.
Stevie finishes off her beer, “We'll go with you. I need a smoke anyway.”
“I need a minute to myself. I know it's not rational to feel this pissed at you guys. So I just need a

minute to get some fresh air. 'Kay?”

They both nod and I head for the back exit, weaving my way through the crowd. Once the cool

night air hits my lungs I feel better. I slump against the brick wall next to the door and close my eyes,
concentrating on deeply breathing. I shouldn't be this mad at them. I obviously have bottled-up anger
over what happened with Will that I wasn't recognizing...or didn't want to recognize. I would be
concerned too if I was them and witnessed what happened between Will and I back in March.

One of Will's cousin's throws a kick-ass St. Patrick's Day party every year. Before we left that

year, Will had me change three times because each outfit I had chosen was “too slutty,” and then later
that night he cut me off from drinking after I had had only two gimlets. His excuse was he didn't need
me getting drunk and embarrassing him in front of his family. At the time it made sense; I tend to lose
my clothes the drunker I get. It got ugly when a guy tried dancing with me, despite my refusal. Will
saw it as me dancing with another guy and went ape-shit on the guy, beating him senseless and then
grabbing my wrist so hard I had a hand print around it for days. He told me to quit being a fucking
whore and dragged me upstairs to a bathroom, forcing me to sit under the shower to “sober up” while
ice cold water pelted my skin. The next day he apologized over and over and I stupidly forgave him.
Nothing that drastic happened again until recently, but he had grabbed hold of my arm a bit too tightly
a few times and continued to demean me verbally.

I hang my head down in shame, cradling it into my hands. My friends have every right to be

concerned. Had it been the other way around I would be furious at the guy. I should be furious at him
for myself.

I don't even recognize myself anymore. I'm so far removed from the girl I used to be. I can't say

for sure when the transformation occurred. It was a slow process, one Will had molded over the two
years we were together. He was the most amazing, perfect boyfriend in the beginning. He was smart,

clever, funny, romantic, all the things one looks for in a partner, so when he started making
suggestions to me about what I wore, how I acted, who I spent my time with, I listened; I trusted his
advice. It was only a few months into our relationship that he started to become bossy, controlling,
and smothering, but I had always found some excuse as to why it was okay.

I groan into my hands. What is wrong with me that I would allow this to happen?
“Hey,” a man's voice spoke a few feet in front of me. I lift my head up to find three men peering

at me with hooded eyes and sinister smiles.

Adrenaline starts pumping and my body's flight mode kicks in. I reach for the door knob next to

me, only to find it locked.

Shit.
They smile more wickedly at me and step closer.
“My boyfriend's waiting for me around the corner. I hate when he smokes so I'm waiting here for

him to finish.”

“Bullshit,” one of them smiles and every instinct in my body tells me to flee.
So I do.
I run to the main street and veer left, knowing the entrance of the bar is around the corner.
To my delight I hear no feet following behind me, and just as I'm about to turn the corner to the

safety of the main street I run face first into the chest of a man.

“Where do you think you're going?” The man easily lifts my hundred and ten pound body. I try

fighting against him but I'm too weak; my small frame and tiny bones are no match for this guy. I do
the only thing I can think of and scream. I scream from the center of my core and give it everything I
have.

He clasps his hand over my mouth and I bite down. Hard. He pulls it away and slaps me. My

eyes fill up and my cheek feels like it's on fire.

He holds my arms tightly to my sides but low enough that I can reach for his dick and twist the

shit out of it. I drop to the ground as he cries out in pain. I start running when I realize the three men
from the alley are waiting for me. I have nowhere to go. My eyes scan everywhere around me but the
only place to go is across the street, where the lights are out and it's pitch black.

Panic is clawing at my throat. All I can hear is my heavy breathing and the pounding in my chest.
The man I hurt quickly recovers and lunges for me. I flee across the street at the same time a car

rips around the corner, almost hitting me; it would have if my waist had not been taken over. I'm being
carried back onto the curb. For a split second I feel relief until I see the man holding me is one of the
four I'm trying to escape. I try to scream but another man's hand stuffs a cloth in my mouth and holds it
in place. Tears start to blur my vision and I squirm my body around as best as I can. Another pair of
strong hands grab hold of my calves and then shove me into a car.

I'm laying across two of them, butt in the middle seat, and they have me pinned down. I've never

moved my body so hard in my life. I know the odds are against me, but I'm not going to let up until
they are done with me.

I hear the engine of the car purr to life and I flip out, trying to scream through the cloth and thrash

as hard as I can. This makes them laugh gleefully and a hand trails up my leg, cupping my sex, rubbing
it with his fingers. Another hand slides down my shirt, under my bra, and starts playing with my
breasts. They all start talking about all the fun and dirty things they want to do to me.

I have never been more terrified in my life when one of them describes in horrid detail what they

are going to do. I throw up and start choking on my vomit. The man cupping my breasts sits me up and
lets me choke on it without suffocating myself.

“We're not into fucking dead girls,” they all laugh at this remark. I slam my head back and

triumphantly smack my skull against the jaw of the man behind me.

“Fuck you, you little cunt! Take her pants off, I want to teach her a lesson.”
“Let me drive off first. Once we're back at our place you can have her first.”
“Fuck that, she needs to be taught now! When we get there I'll teach it to her again, but that time I

won't go easy on her.”

“Fine, but make it quick.”
The man pinning my legs repositions so he's over me and by doing so my legs are free. I kick

with a power and strength I don't know I possess. The glass window shatters and the man on top flies
off me and out the window. Damn, I'm good!

“What the fuck!?” They all yell, and that's when I realize the glass shattering wasn't done by me

but another man.

The door opens and I'm airborne and brought to the sidewalk.
The other three men bustle out of the car with knives and brass knuckles in hand.
My neighbor's standing in front of me, protecting me with his body like a shield. My eyes flick to

the man lying in a bloody mess next to me, and I'm fairly certain he isn't breathing.

“If you think you can protect her, you're a fucking idiot. You may be a monster of a fellow, but

there's three of us and we have these.” They flash their weapons.

“Good, it should make this more fun.” I can't see my neighbor's face, but from the animalistic

growl he spits out I don't have to.

“For us, but certainly not you.”
“We'll see.” My ears must be deceiving me, because I could swear his voice sounds excited.
The man on the left lunges forward and so does my protector. Sheer panic courses my veins as I

watch the other two men circle in around him.

The next few seconds happen so fast I can't be sure what I see. My neighbor turns into some kind

of ninja. He has the first man knocked out in a single punch. The next man he headbutts and tosses onto
the hood of the car, denting it underneath him. The third man starts approaching from behind. I'm about
to yell out when he gets back kicked and sent crashing into the ground, head cracking against the
concrete. They all wobble to their feet and scurry to the car.

“Take this piece of shit with you,” my neighbor yells after them, kicking the man he grabbed

through the window in the ribs, eliciting a soft groan from his lips. “He's not going to die here.”

They obediently come and carry him off.
“Oh, and guys,” my neighbor speaks to them like they are old friends catching up, “If I hear you

were near this bar again, I'll kill you. If I find out you so much as look at her,” he nods his head at me,
“I'll make you choke to death on your own balls. Got it?” His eyes have turned cold and murderous. A
chill runs through my body.

The car squeals off, leaving tire tracks on the road.
He faces me and I swear his eyes turn darker; I truly fear him.
“What the fuck just happened?” He growls at me in a voice that does not match the warmth it

usually carries.

I try to speak, but no words come out and my whole body starts shaking uncontrollably. I fall to

the ground and he is next to me in an instant, kneeling beside me.

“Shit.”
I black out.

Chapter 3

Wednesday, January 1
12:01am

The sound of cheering and people crying out, “Happy New Year!” jars me awake.
“Lily, Lily, are you okay?” The familiar voice of Naomi rings in my ears and my lids slowly

flutter open. I try sitting up but my head is pounding and the room starts to spin. I groan and clench my
eyes shut. “Lily, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” I croak out, my voice dry and hoarse. Why does my body ache so much? My eyes

reluctantly open and my surroundings are not at all familiar. I appear to be in a small office, next to a
desk, “Where am I?”

“You're in The Recovery's manager's office,” Stevie’s voice says in the distance. I think she's at

my feet. “Is she okay?” I hear the panic behind her words, but I don't hear a response.

“Why am I here?” Why does my throat feel so sore and scratchy? I cup my hand around my throat

and memories of tonight’s events flood into my mind. I shiver in fear.

“Where is he?” My raspy voice asks.
“Who?” Naomi leans over me and gently strokes my cheek, “Does this hurt?”
“A little,” I wince. “Where is he?” I ask again. Naomi looks confused, which irritates me.
“I think she means me,” a calmness washes over me when I hear the soothing warmth of my

neighbor's voice.

“Are you okay?”
He chuckles and the sound is beautiful, “Are you seriously asking if I'm alright?”
I slowly lift my body up to sitting with Naomi's help. I lock eyes with him and all coldness from

before is gone, replaced by something else. Concern? No, I'm too familiar with that look lately. It's
worry mixed with another emotion I can't place. His face scans mine and cringes, letting out a
grunting noise before closing his eyes and massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Are you hurt?” My raspy voice makes me sound like a ninety year old smoker, but I guess that

will happen when you scream for your life.

“Fuck, stop asking me that,” he moans. “Are you okay, are you hurting anywhere?” He has his

hands on his hips now, head hung low while he stares at the floor. Why is he avoiding looking at me?

“A little achy, but no real damage.”
“Can you remember what happened?” Stevie probes, handing me water that I guzzle down.
“Unfortunately, every detail.”
My neighbor's head snaps up, “I think you guys should let me take her home. She needs to rest.

She can fill you guys in on the details tomorrow.”

“Is that what you want, Lily?” Naomi asks, appearing to not like the idea. “I can bring you home

just as easily.”

“No, it's fine.”
Stevie and Naomi help me up.
Stevie wraps her arms around me in a hug, “I'm so sorry. Jay told us some guys tried to attack

you but ran off when they saw him coming. I'm so so sorry, it's all our fault. We shouldn't have let you
go outside alone. I'm so sorry.”

I hug her back, “It's not your fault. Please don't blame yourself for something only those

dickheads should be blamed for.” I tilt my head back, “Who's Jay?”

My neighbor clears his throat, “That would be me.”
Now I have a name.
“I'm ready to go home,” I inform him.
He nods and opens the door. We follow him out and Naomi leans in to whisper in my ear.
“You sure you're safe with this guy?”
“Positive.” What he's capable of and the dark evil look his eyes posses may frighten me, but I

know without a doubt he would never harm me.

“'Kay, and you promise to call me tomorrow?”
“I promise.”
We walk them to Stevie's Jeep, and once Naomi drives off we go to his truck. He opens the

passenger door for me and helps me up. I try not to think about how big and strong his hands feel on
my waist.

We drive in silence while I stare at him, studying his face and the scar that's facing me. I reach

my arm out and run my thumb across the smallest one along his temple. His body stiffens against my
touch.

“Thanks for saving me.”
His hands tighten around the steering wheel, “You want to tell me how the hell it got that far?”

His tone is soft and I don't take offense to his question.

“I needed air and went out the exit into the ally. Three of them approached me and I tried opening

the door but it was locked...” I wrap my arms around myself like a blanket.

“Never mind. Don't tell me. It will only make me want to hunt them down and rip their fucking

heads off.”

“Good. I don't really want to talk about it,” a light sob escapes the back of my throat and I feel

like a wuss. It's not like anything happened. It never got that far. A tear runs down my cheek and I
brush it away before he can see. I want to lift my legs up and wrap my arms around myself but I don't
want him to see how much tonight has affected me, it's pitiful. I settle for twirling my hair and
chewing on my lip, which hurts...a lot. It feels huge in my mouth and I can feel the broken skin with
my tongue.

“Don't do that,” Jay reaches over and tugs on my chin, releasing my bottom lip. “It's swollen and

bruised. You'll make it worse.”

I'm disappointed when we arrive home. I like being in the safety of his truck and the soothing roll

of a moving vehicle.

“Do you think we can drive around for awhile?” I can't believe what a child I'm being.
He doesn't respond, just flips the truck around and keeps driving.
“I know you wanted to drive me home because you didn't want me to tell my friends how easily

you whooped those guys asses. Why is that?”

His hands twist around the steering wheel and I can tell he's thinking how he wants to explain it

to me, “I'm afraid if they know what I did they will tell others, and word will get around about what I
can do. I try very hard to go unnoticed.”

I let out a small laugh from his comment, “You have seen yourself, right?”
He lets out a laugh as well, “Touchè.”
“I don't mean just these,” I say, running the pad of my thumb over the scar on his temple. “You're

huge and your eyes are scary at times; it's impossible to forget them.”

“Do I scare you?” His voice is barely above a whisper.
“A little. The first time I saw you and after you fought those men I was. It's the color your eyes

take on. Like you're soulless.”

A sharp intake of breath cuts through the air and I feel guilty for being so honest. The man just

saved my life, or at least prevented me from becoming a shell of a human being, and I insult him.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out so harsh.”
“Don't ever apologize for being honest with me.”
We drive around in silence for another thirty minutes and I don't protest when he pulls into his

driveway.

He tells me to wait and comes around to help me out. Once my feet are safely planted on the

ground his eyebrows knit together and his hand strokes the cheek that was slapped.

“You should ice this when you get home.” For how big and rough his hands are, they sure feel

gentle and soft against my skin. I close my eyes, leaning into his palm. The second my lids shut,
tonight’s events play out and I feel panic again. I step back against the truck in fear, hitting my head
against the door.

Jay backs away from me, “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched you.”
“No, it wasn't you. I liked that. It was when I closed my eyes,” I look at the ground in front of my

feet. “I could see everything, all playing out like a movie.” A tear drops, and Jay's hand is back on my
cheek to wipe it away. “I'm sorry, I'm being silly.”

He lifts my chin up to look at him, “Stop telling me you're sorry, and you’re not being silly. I only

caught the tail end of what happened in that car, and you have every right to be upset.” He steps back
and the empty space between us feels miles long. His hand comes out for me to take, “Let me walk
you home.” He smirks, “It's a long journey.”

I crack a smile but shake my head no and his face falls, “I feel stupid but I'm afraid to go home

now and go to sleep. I'm afraid I'll have nightmares or my mind won't stop reliving it all.”

“Huh,” he scratches the scruff on his face. “I might have some sleeping pills in my bathroom?”
“Okay.”
“I'll be right back.”
Jay heads inside and I follow. No way am I waiting out here alone.
He looks over his shoulder as he unlocks his door and I'm relieved when he doesn't protest me

following him inside. The house is dark when we enter but he doesn't turn on any lights as he heads
down the hall. It's hard to make out the living room, but I can tell he has a couch and I lay myself
down on it, curling up and wrapping my arms around a pillow cushion. I feel exhausted and I want to
close my eyes, but I'm still afraid. I hear him come back in and stand over me, but I don't look up at
him or make any indication that I plan on moving, because I don't. I feel safe here.

“I can't let you sleep on my couch.”
I tuck my knees up higher in defiance.
He scratches his scruff, “Seriously, it doesn't feel right having you sleep on my couch.” He lifts

me up in his arms. There isn't a single nerve in my body that doesn’t feel the gratifying pleasure it
brings me.

If he wants me gone he'll have to carry me home, but to my surprise he brings me down the hall to

what I assume is the master bedroom. The room has a king size bed in it. He lays me down and
removes my shoes before pulling a blanket over me. He goes to leave but I grab his hand, pulling him
to me as I scoot back.

He starts shaking his head but I speak first.

“Please,” I plead, “I don't want to sleep alone.”
“I'll sleep on the floor.”
“Please,” I whisper softly.
He curses under his breath and I can hear him removing his shoes before sliding under the covers

with me.

His whole body is stiff as he lays flat as a board on his back, arms firmly at his sides. I lift the

arm facing me so I can snuggle up and I rest my head on his chest. His muscles are strained and tense
under me. With every breath he takes his body loosens up and his arm slowly creeps around me. He
starts stroking my hair, and within minutes I'm asleep.

Chapter 4

8:24am

Soreness can be felt all over my body. I moan as I turn onto my back in bed, but it's not my bed.

This bed is much wider, and the sheets are cotton where mine are flannel. Once again I remember
what happened. I sit up and my muscles feel like they have been through the ringer, all tight and sore. I
take in my surroundings, which aren't much. A king size bed with a burgundy and gold comforter with
swirling designs you can find at any department store. To my right is a bedside table with a lamp. The
window behind me acts as a headboard and is completely bare. That's it. That's his entire room.
Strange.

I see a note on the pillow next to me and I pick it up to read:

I'm in the living room. I didn’t want you to wake up and be scared to be sharing a bed with a

strange man.

Jay confuses me. I've never met anyone like him. He's raw and menacing, but he has a softness to

him, a sweetness that tugs at my heart. Remembering the way he dismantled those men is seconds
makes my body shiver.

I get out of bed with the need to pee. Badly. Once in the hall, I'm glad to find the bathroom

directly across from me.

The fan clicks on when I turn on the light, startling me. I'm extra jumpy, which doesn't surprise

me after last night. That's when I see my face. The side that was slapped is bruised and swollen along
my cheek near my lips. He hit me harder than I thought. I'm thinking it was more than a hard slap. My
lip is slightly puffed and the skin is broken, but I think it's cut from me biting it.

I step all the way in and lean over the sink to get a better view. I touch the puffed out skin. It's

definitely tender.

Jay appears in the door frame behind me, leaning the side of his body against it.
“I thought he only slapped me, but this doesn't look like something a slap can do,” my voice is

still raspy and sore.

Jay's lips tighten and his jaw sets. I see the muscles in his arms clench, “No, that's definitely not

from a slap. That's what happens when somebody hits you.”

I lean in closer, my nose almost touching the glass. “Why didn't it feel like a punch? Shouldn't it

have hurt more when it happened?”

“Adrenaline, it can dull the pain.”
That makes sense. I had a shitload of that last night.
I stand up straight and take in his appearance through the mirror. He barely looks touched. In fact,

he doesn't have a mark on him.

I whirl around, “How did you go unharmed?”
A dark chuckle vibrates the room and goosebumps form on my skin. Eerie darkness returns to his

eyes, “I've fought a lot more men than that at once, and they knew what they were doing. The guys last
night hadn't a clue. They were weak and slow. I could have taken them out laying on my back.”

“Now you’re just being cocky.”

“No, I'm not.”
I swallow from the seriousness of his tone.
He scratches his scruff. I notice that his knuckles are broken and red. I glance at his other hand to

see it just as banged up.

I close the gap between us, grabbing the hand on his face to examine it. Wow, it looks bad. Red,

raw, broken, and painful. “Are you okay?”

He yanks it away, “Quit asking me that.”
“I'm only worried about you,” I fire back.
“Don't. I made coffee if you drink it.” Jay leaves me and retreats down the hall.
I quickly go to the bathroom before heading to the front room. It's just as bare as his bedroom. A

couch, a coffee table, a flat screen mounted on the wall. Underneath is a small console with an XBOX
and a cable box. In the clear cabinets of the console I can see DVDs and XBOX games. To my left is
an open kitchen with an island where he has one bar stool. No dining table or pictures on the wall,
that's all there is to see. It only makes me more fascinated by him, which I know is dangerous. I'm not
exactly the best judge of character.

“If you’re done analyzing my place I can pour you a cup of coffee. I have orange juice too, if you

prefer that,” Jay's gruff voice startles me.

He's standing on the other side of the island, back facing the kitchen, drinking from a mug.
“Coffee, please.”
He goes to work filling me a cup.
“I don't like it when you use that tone with me,” I state, watching him pull out creamer.
“What tone?” His face contorts in question.
“That mean, low throat one. I like your normal voice, it's warm and comforting.”
He snorts, “I think you're the first person to use those two words to describe anything about me.”
I grab the creamer and pour it into my coffee, then take a seat on the bar stool. “It's true, I could

listen to you talk all day.”

“You're strange.”
“So are you.”
Our eyes stay glued to each other as we drink our morning caffeine fix.
“How old are you?” I ask, breaking the minutes of silence.
“Twenty-five.”
“Hmm.”
“What does 'Hmm' mean?” Jay refills my cup and pours in more creamer.
I shrug, “You look older.”
He leans his back against the refrigerator, “I've lived through more than most do their whole

lives. That probably has something to do with it.”

In that moment he has sucked me in. I want to know who he is, what he's thinking, and everything

about him.

“You’re looking at me weird. It's kinda creeping me out,” he shifts uncomfortably from my stare.
“I'm creeping you out,” I laugh at the absurdity of his words.
A true smile forms on his face. Stevie's right, if you take away the scar and put a little light into

his eyes, he's beautiful. We go back to staring at each other, absorbing the other in. Normally this
would be unbearably awkward, but with Jay it's not. I'm beginning to like the way he looks at me,
analyzing me, studying my face. I feel like he sees me, as cheesy as that sounds.

“Did you sleep okay?” He asks, cutting in on the silence.

“Yeah, I did,” I realize, surprised. “Maybe last night had no effect on me now and I'm fine.”
“Just do me a favor and don't pretend you're okay if you're not.”
I nod my head in consent.
“I'm serious.”
“I know, I can tell.” The hardness in his features says it all.
“Good.”
We go back to silence, but this time we look anywhere but at each other.
I finish my coffee and I know I should leave, but I don't want to.
“Won't your family be worried where you are?”
“No,” I answer him, “My mom is staying over at her boyfriend's, and my brothers could care

less. Is that your way of politely asking me to leave?”

“No.”
A delighted smile crosses my face and he rolls his eyes, which I find cute – it makes him appear

more his age.

“Happy New Year by the way.” What a crazy way to bring in the new year. I hope it's not

foreshadowing how this year will be, and just more of a shitty farewell to a crappy year, “I think my
purse got left at the bar.” Which completely sucks. I'm low on funds, as I have yet to find a new job. I
only had a twenty in it, but I need every cent I have. Plus, my cell phone. How am I going to pay for a
new one?

“Your friends grabbed it for you. It's on my couch.” I twist my head and relief washes over me

when I see it laying on the far cushion. I decide to ask him the questions I've been holding back.

“So, about last night...how did you know I was in danger?”
“You make it sound like I'm your protector or some shit. I heard a faint scream. Decided to check

it out. Found a car not too far down behind the bar. Four men. Car rocking. Shouting. I checked it out.
Saw some girl struggling inside. Got closer. It was you. I saw red. You know the rest.” He states it all
so matter-of-fact, as if he's filing a report.

“Why did you break the window instead of opening the door?”
He rubs his hand on the top of his head. I think it's an old habit from when his hair was more of a

buzz cut. “The door was locked.” He lets out a long sigh, “Well, shit, that's a lie. I actually didn't
know that until after I broke the window. I was just so fucking pissed when I saw you in there I
needed to break something, and the window was there before the guy.”

“Oh.”
“I think it's time for you to go now,” the hardness is back on his face.
I try not to let my disappointment show, but I know it does, “Thanks for saving me, for helping

me, for letting me crash here...for the coffee.” I get up and grab my purse, shutting the door softly
behind me and stealing a glance over my shoulder before it closes all the way. Jay is bent over the
island, hands clutching the edge, his head hung low.

It's hard to leave and go home, but I think its for the best. Jay is unnerving and he unsettles me in

a way I can't describe. I want to know all of him but I also know the smart thing to do is stay away.

It's past nine so I decide to take a long, hot shower. Then I clean my house to keep myself busy

and distract myself from thinking about my neighbor, who's consuming way too many of my thoughts.

Mid-morning both Stevie and Naomi call, wanting to know what happened. I keep it simple and

basically say what Jay told them: he saw the three men grab hold of me on the street, he scared them
off with his colossal size, and I fainted from the drama of it all. They wanted to know all about the car
ride home, but I lied, telling them we never talked and I went straight to bed. Both girls apologized

for our argument at the bar and for letting me go outside alone. I told them I was serious when I said
not to feel guilty, and that I truly wasn't mad at them.

I spend the rest of the day trying to read, but I can't seem to concentrate. I keep thinking about Jay

and replaying last night's events.

Chapter 5

Friday, January 3
11:36am

I sleepily wave to my mom from the front door as she heads to work. She flips out when she finds

yet another bruise on my face, but I tell her the bar was packed and some guy accidentally elbowed
me. Luckily, she believes me and doesn't press it any further.

The past two nights I slept horribly. Nightmares consumed my dreams, making me toss and turn

all night. Some dreams consisted of me not escaping and what happens to me, others Jay doesn't make
it out alive, or I choke to death on my vomit. All feel real when I wake up and it takes me hours to go
back to sleep, only to have another one and start the whole process over again.

Jay's truck is in his driveway and I chew on my lip, contemplating if I should go over to ask him

about the plan I came up with during my many wakeful moments last night.

I decide to go for it; the worst he can say is no. I slip into my gray TOMS and go to his house. I

hesitate before knocking. I'm not sure if this is a good idea. He was nice to me for a brief moment, but
that doesn't mean he's my friend or even an acquaintance.

I suck it up and knock. I need sleep and he's the only person I know who might be able to help

ease my mind.

No answer.
I hear loud music from the garage and figure he didn't hear so I knock louder, four times. The

music turns down so I knock again to make sure he knows someone's here.

I hear the thumping of his feet, and his door finally opens. His brows knit together and he doesn't

look pleased to see me, the exact opposite actually. He looks a little pissed.

“What?” Jay bites out in the gruff voice that I hate.
I stand there not speaking like a fool, feeling embarrassed for coming over. I should have known

better. The feelings I had Wednesday morning were aftershocks of him rescuing me.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you,” the words stumble out. I don't understand how I have

moments with him where I’m undeniably drawn to him and others where he makes me want to cower
away.

He swipes the top of his head, sighing, and stares up into the sky. “What do you want?” He tones

down the roughness to his voice, but it doesn't quite carry the warmth I prefer.

“I...uh...never mind.” I rock back on my heels ready to leave. This was stupid.
“Seriously, Lily, why are you here?” The sound of my name coming from his lips makes my heart

skip a beat. I'm an idiot.

“I haven't been sleeping, and before you tell me I'm being a big baby, I already know that, but it's

not stopping the nightmares from coming. So...I thought maybe you could teach me how to defend
myself. Maybe that will help me feel more confident that if it happens again I can fight back. If I know
that, then maybe the nightmares will stop and I can finally get some sleep. I like sleep. A lot. And I
wouldn't mind being on better terms with it. I've had more caffeine than should be legal and I have no
idea what to do to make them go away-”

Jay holds his hand up to cut me off, “Stop, you're rambling. You're wasting your breath. I won't

help you. You'd be better off taking a martial arts class or something.”

“That was my first idea, but I have no money. I can't afford classes,” I start to tear up and I want

to slap myself for getting emotional about this. I blame my lack of sleep.

“Get some mace and don't leave your house alone.” He looks at me like he just solved my

problem and he's done with this conversation.

“I guess I could start carrying my gun. That might help,” I say it out loud, but I'm really thinking it

to myself. I have a really bad habit of talking my thoughts out loud.

“You have a gun?”
“Uh huh,” I mumble, deep in thought as I leave to head home.
I'm not really keen on the idea of carrying around a gun, but it might bring me some peace of

mind.

Jay takes hold of my hand and tugs me back to him, “What are you doing with a gun?”
“Present from my dad.”
“Shit. Normal dads do that too?” He half-grins, swiping the top of his head again.
“Not sure, but mine did.”
“Why?”
“When my parents divorced it made him nervous to think of us alone without him, so he got me a

gun.”

“Your mom and brother too?”
“No, just me.”
“Why?”
I can tell his curiosity is peaked.
“My mom is anti-guns and my brother was only two when they divorced.”
“So you learned when you were eleven?”
“Yeah?” How does he know how old I am?
“When I checked your I.D. At the bar.”
Crap, I said that out loud. Wait...
“I never showed you my I.D.”
“Facebook,” he reluctantly reveals.
“You looked me up on Facebook?”
“Yeah,” he answers uncomfortably.
“You're on Facebook?”
“No.”
“But you looked me up?”
“I think we've already established that.”
“Why?”
“Do you know how to use it?”
“The gun?”
He nods his head.
“Yeah, he made me take lessons.”
Why does he look irritated about that?
“Taking some lessons doesn't mean it's safe for you to be carrying a gun around with you. You'll

probably get spooked and end up killing someone, or worse, yourself.”

Gawd, he sounds just like my mom.
“So teach me to defend myself.”
“No.”

“Why, not?”
“I'm not looking to make a new friend, Lily.” Wow, I love the way he says my name. “I helped

you out, but that doesn't mean I want you around.”

Ouch. “Wow, I'd call you an ass, but you did save me the other night so that feels wrong,” I snap,

“I'm not looking to be friends with you either, I just want to learn to defend myself in case I get
attacked again.”

“Quit talking like that's an option,” he roars back at me and my breath catches in my throat. The

ferocity of his stance frightens me and I take a step back.

“I'm sorry. I won't bother you anymore,” I speak softly, unable to look at him. I can't believe this

is the same man who held me in my sleep and took care of me when I was scared. Maybe I do have a
sick, twisted need to be with men who treat me like crap.

I walk home as fast as I can. What I really want to do is run, but that would make my hurt feelings

that much more obvious.

I close my front door and slide down it, tucking my legs in so I can rest my forehead on top of

them.

Will did like to control me, and I let him. And now I'm letting myself be fascinated by a very

terrifying man. I clearly have issues.

A loud thump! on the door vibrates my back. I don't move to open it.
Another thump!, louder this time and it vibrates my whole body. There's only one person I know

who can knock on a door in such a threatening way. Anger starts to seep in; I'm done letting him scare
me.

I hop up and throw open the door, “What?!” I say loudly, almost at a shout.
“I'll help you.” Both his hands are clasped together and resting on top of his head. I can see a

weird marking on the underarm of his skin. I stop myself from further examining it. I'm done with this
guy.

“No thanks.”
“Why not?”
“I'm scared of you, and I think being around you isn't healthy for me.”
“Good. You should be scared and I'm not healthy for you to be around, but you're right, every

girl needs to know how to defend herself. Although, it wouldn't have done much good against four
guys. You need to remember to not travel alone or go into alleys, ever. I can't believe I even have to
explain that last one.” His arms are crossed now and he's at the base of my door towering over me:
carbon steel in the form of a man.

“I think that's the longest I've ever heard you talk.”
“It's not really my thing.”
“Talking?”
“Yeah.”
“I agree. You kinda suck at it.”
He laughs, “You gonna let me train you?”
“Train?”
“Yeah.”
“I only need a few self defense moves.”
“I go all in, or nothing.”
What is wrong with me that I'm turned on right now?
“I like a man who goes all in.” Wow, I can't believe I just said that.

He smirks, enjoying the game we are playing.
“But no,” I say, and his smirk instantly turns into a frown, which he quickly recovers into a cold-

hard stare, but I'm getting used to it so it doesn't phase me.

“You came to me,” he reminds me.
“And you freaked me out, again. Frankly, it's getting old. You have worse mood swings than a

PMSing fifteen year old.”

“I actually hold back on you.”
My turn to laugh, “Why?”
Jay's eyes soften and he shyly smiles, “That's what I keep asking myself.”
Silence.
Heart beating.
Faster.
Shit.
“You misunderstood me when you left. I wasn't angry because you asked for my help. It pissed

me off when you sounded like getting attacked again was inevitable. Don't say shit like that to me.”

“Why?”
“Because then I'm going to spend all my time worrying about your safety.”
Ignore your thumping heart, “Why do you care?”
“When I figure that out I'll let you know.” He swipes his head a few times before continuing,

“We train every Friday at three.”

“What do I wear?”
He eyes me suggestively, “I can't give that a straight answer.”
“Three?” I double check, trying to keep the giddiness out of my voice.
“Three,” he confirms.
That was the weirdest fifteen minutes of my life.
Jay smirks, “Mine too.”
Dammit, I said that out loud.
“You really need to work on that.”
Dammit, I did it again.
Jay chuckles and walks off.
“Wait!” I call after him, “Today's Friday.”
“We clear on the time?” He yells back, not looking at me.
“Three!” I yell back a little too eagerly.
He gives me the thumbs up sign, back still facing me as he heads home.
“Should I be scared?!” At this point I'm glad he can't see the ridiculous grin on my face.
He slightly turns his head so his chin rests on his left shoulder. A purely sinister smirk shapes his

upper lip and I swear his eyes turn black.

“Okay, you win. I almost pissed my pants from that look.”
A deep laugh carries through the neighborhood and makes contact with my chest, knocking me

back with apprehension and eagerness: a dangerous combination, but fitting considering the source.

3:00pm

I knock on Jay's door and a wave of thrill erupts in the base of my stomach as I wait for him to

answer.

Jay opens the door and the sight of him has the thrill turn into a thousand tiny butterflies dancing

through my veins so my whole body feels a rush.

He's wearing gray sweats and a plain white shirt. It makes me want to laugh because I'm in the

same outfit, except my pants are from an old velour pantsuit set and my white shirt is a fitted v-neck.

Jay grazes my body and I blush when he stops at my breasts before meeting my eyes, “You

ready?” He asks, opening the door for me to come in.

I step inside and shrug, “I guess. I'm a little worried about what you have planned.”
A twinkle shines in his eyes and he gives me a playful smirk, “Nothing you can't handle.”
“That's what has me worried.” I plant my index finger on his pecs and try not to notice how much

they resemble a boulder, “You don't know me well enough to know what I can handle.”

Jay laughs and goes to push back the couch, moving it against the back wall, “Relax, we're

starting with the basics and then we'll go from there.”

“Why is your house so bare?” I still can't get over how sparse his place is.
“I've never gotten around to buying more than the essentials.” He motions for me to come closer,

“I want you to stand right here.”

I move to a few feet from him.
“I'm going to teach you how to aim for the parts of the body that are the easiest to inflict pain. On

the face, go for the eyes, nose, and neck. On the body, go for the knees or the groin.

He has me come closer and shows me how to use the weight of my body to strike the nasal bone

with the heel of my palm and how to use my elbow if they come from behind.

He also shows me how to use a knife hand strike on the jugular vein, and explains that being able

to scratch, poke, or gouge an eye can blur their vision and give you an easier escape.

Next he shows me how to do a front snap kick using the ball of my foot to lock out the knee, and

explains that with enough force it breaks.

“Okay, good. Let's try it again.” We practice a few more times. I can't try the force of the kick on

him but it gives me a good understanding of what to do.

The next two hours he shows me a few more, and every time he touches me the fluttering in my

veins returns.

Jay is a patient instructor and not once do I have a sense of fear from him. I have the same sense

of safety I felt when he drove me home and let me stay the night in his bed. This side of Jay is starting
to scare me just as much as his darker side; this one leaves me wanting more of him and stirring up
feelings I've never had before.

When the lesson is done I go home, my head swimming in emotions. I'm becoming a moth to a

flame, but just like the stupid moth I know I won't be able to stay away. Jay is a magnetic force that
pulls me in, sucks me into his vortex. I want to know him, even the parts of him that frighten me, and
God help me but I've never been more turned on at the sight of a man in my life, scars and all.

Chapter 6

Sunday, January 5
3:36am

I wake gasping for air on the couch, were I had fallen asleep watching television.
Another freaking nightmare.
“Aargghh!” I cry out into my empty house. My brothers are at a friend's and my mom is working a

double shift at the hospital.

I'm so damn tired and frustrated! I just want to get some sleep!
I go to the kitchen for a glass of water. I stare at Jay's house from the kitchen window while I

drink my water. His truck's there, so I'm guessing he's home from work.

Shoving caution down the drain, I lock up the house and head to his.
I raise my hand to knock but stop before it hits the door. What if he's already asleep? When I was

here earlier I had asked him when he works. I know his nights end at three so I doubt he is. I also
hesitate because I'm in my old ratty pajamas from high school. Why do I even care? I'm only going to
hang out. Who cares what I look like? Or at least that's what I try to convince myself as I knock on the
door.

Jay opens the door, running his hand over the top of his head. “Hey,” he says cautiously. I can tell

he's confused why I'm here. He's still dressed and I feel better knowing I didn't wake him up.

I try peeking around his side, “Watcha doin?”
He seems unsure if he wants to answer me, “Watching a movie.”
“Perfect. I love movies. I'll keep you company.” I duck under his arm and scurry to the couch he

had moved back into place. I plop down on the far right cushion.

Jay shuts his door and stands at the opposite end behind the armrest, scratching his ever present

scruff.

“Lily, I thought we talked about this. I'm not looking to make new friends,” he sounds drained.
I know I should leave but the more time I spend with him the harder it is to stay away. I find my

thoughts always reverting back to him and wondering what he's doing or thinking, or I replay moments
between us.

Being here, seeing him, it feels right.
I twist my body to face him, “I know I'm a pain in your ass-”
“No,” he interrupts, “you're like a damn pigeon in the park who keeps coming back, even when I

clearly have nothing to give you. Why is that?”

“Why do I keep coming over?”
He crosses his arms and scrunches his brows, “Yeah?”
“I like it here.”
“Why?”
“You make me feel safe.”
A low, deep rumble starts in his chest and stays there, moving his shoulders up and down from

his silent laugh, “You have shit survival skills.”

“Are you saying I'm not safe with you?”
He studies my face and I'm beginning to recognize the signs when he's thinking about how

forthcoming he wants to be.

“Would you ever hurt me?” I try a different approach.
He shakes his head no.
“Then I'm safe with you.”
He rubs his head again, focusing on the cushion in front of him, “I'm not safe for you to be

around,” his voice is low and has almost a sadness to it.

“Why?”
He leans forward, resting his palms on the armrest and letting his head hang, sighing, “You ask

too many fucking questions.”

“Only because you keep giving me vague answers,” I'm trying to remain even tempered, but he

has a knack for making me snap.

His head jerks up, red with frustration, “Only because you keep prying.”
“I only have one more question...for today.” I add the last part because I have an ocean's worth I

want to ask.

He raises both brows in an “out with it” glare.
I tuck my legs up so I'm cross-legged and I stare at the door, letting my voice go low, “If someone

came in here and tried to hurt me what would happen?”

Jay's face turns to stone, “I'd kill 'em.”
“Then I'm not leaving.”
“Fuck, Lily,” Jay hits the armrest in anger and I suck in my breath, “Is that what all this is about?

You're still scared?”

Man, he's scary when he yells. His height stretches up even higher and his already boulder-

formed muscles expand.

“Crap,” he breathes out, “Now I've fucking scared you.” His hands rest loosely on his hips and

he stares up at the ceiling, taking in a long, deep breath.

He transforms in front of me, body relaxing as his features turn soft and caring, “I'm sorry Lily, I

should have known that's why you were here.”

“You swear too much,” I blurt out. Almost every sentence out of his mouth contains a foul word

or two.

He rolls his eyes, “Get over it.”
He falls onto the couch, slouching into the seat, “Let's watch some TV.”
I smile and squirm happily back around.
Jay tosses the remote on my lap, “You choose.”
I channel surf for awhile until I land on an old favorite of mine.
Jay sits stiffly, arms crossed, hard tight expression, watching the screen, “What is this?”
“Gilmore Girls.”
“I be polite and let you pick, and you don't even try to pick something we can both watch?”
“What's wrong with this show? It's quirky and cute.”
He grunts.
Every time he lets a chuckle escape I want to smugly point it out, but I refrain and bite my tongue.
“Lily?”
“Jay?” I answer, matching his serious tone.
He remains staring at the TV and continues, “Earlier this afternoon when you first came over...I

didn't mean...I shouldn't have yelled like that. I'm just not good with people. That's why I'm a bouncer.
People expect a hard-ass and little conversation.”

“You can be really scary.”
He sighs, “I know.”
We go back to watching the show, but the way Jay keeps fidgeting makes me think he has more to

say.

“Do you really keep having nightmares that keep you from sleeping?” He asks a few minutes

later.

“Yes.”
I thought that was the end of our conversation and I sit for ten minutes wondering why he asked.
He starts in again, “And you didn't have any when you slept over, right?”
“Right.”
“You're staying over,” he states firmly, as if I might protest.
“Good,” I finalize, holding back a smile.
I toss him the remote and get up. “I'm going to bed. Night Jay,” I say before heading down the

hall.

“Good night, Lily,” the sweetness in his voice melts a little part of me.
I'm halfway down the hall when I hear Jay say, “Lily?”
“Yeah?”
“You need me in there later?”
“Yeah.”
“'Kay.”

10:13am

I slept so heavily I never heard Jay come to bed, so when I wake up I'm surprised to find him

asleep on his stomach next to me, an arm across my back and his hand resting on my arm. His arm is
so massive compared to mine you can hardly tell mine's underneath his and I hold back a giggle. The
arm he has on me is the one with the thick, long, raised scar and I slowly move my body – careful not
to wake him – so I can get a better look. I can tell it was once a very deep, very painful cut. I lightly
touch it and when I don't feel Jay move I let my fingers trail the length of it. I'm not sure why I'm doing
this but I want to feel it, and as I do I try to come up with how a person gets scars like he has. Maybe
a bear attacked him? Deep down I know that's not it.

“Fell down a small cliff, jagged rock sliced right through it,” Jay says, sounding half asleep.
“I can't imagine how painful that must have been,” I remark, still feeling it under my fingers.
Jay turns his head to face me, “The worst part was cleaning out all the dirt, gravel, rocks, and

small leaves that got stuck inside. Cleaning it all out stung like a bitch. I even found bugs trapped
inside.”

“Bugs?” It makes me sick just thinking about it.
He laughs at the purely disgusted face I make. “Yeah, but they were dead 'cuz of all the blood.”

He makes it sound like that made it not so gross.

I turn my face to look at him, “Why'd you fall down a cliff?”
He studies my face for a long time and I think he's deciding if he wants to tell me or not. I'm

getting used to his intense stares and I lay there quietly, taking my time to get a closer look at his face.
We've never been this close; our faces are inches apart. I closely observe the color of his eyes and
realize I was vastly wrong when I said their color blue was nothing special. Up close they are

spectacular and like nothing I've ever seen before. The rim of the iris starts out a darker shade of blue
and lightens the closer it comes to the pupil. Starting from the pupil, aqua and a soft yellow-gold
shoots out to mingle with the blue, creating something you would find in the northern lights of Alaska.

“Beautiful,” I breathe out, twisting my body so I'm on my side. I bring a hand up to to trace the

scar that runs slightly off center down his right eye. Jay doesn't stop me; he continues studying my
face. He has yet to move his arm off of me and it's now at my waist. Part of my shirt has bunched up
because of how I turned and his thumb starts stroking the exposed skin, sending shivers and
goosebumps along my side.

I trace the other two scars on his face then let my fingers run along his scruff, loving the way it

tickles my fingertips. My hand roams down his neck and around. I play with what little hair is
growing on his head. It surprises me how incredibly soft it is. I find my body scooting closer, not
noticing until my knee hits his leg.

“Lily,” Jay speaks softly, almost in pain, as he pulls me in closer and buries his head in the crook

of my neck.

I don't respond and keep playing with his hair. We stay like this for another five minutes before

Jay pulls away.

“I'll go make us some coffee,” he gruffly speaks, getting out of bed and leaving me alone to stare

after him.

Jay leaves my thoughts muddled as I try to sort out the way I feel when I'm with him. Being close

to him this morning and waking up in his bed left a warmth running through me I have never
experienced before. I've never felt contentment like this, which leaves me at a loss because I know
nothing about him other than the fact he has scars he won't talk about. Judging by the walls he
consistently keeps up, they are internal too. One minute his eyes possess the devil and the next they
appear lost and longing for something I'm not sure even he knows what.

I hear Jay call down that the coffee is ready and I head to the kitchen. As I take a seat on the bar

stool, I realize the two times I've woken up here I've never worried about how I look. With Will I
would rush to the bathroom to smooth out my hair and brush my teeth. It's not that I don't care what Jay
thinks, because I care more than I want to admit, but with Jay it's different; he looks at me the same
way every time I see him (not including when he's scaring the shit out of me). I feel like with Jay I can
look like this every day and it wouldn't matter to him. Oh god, maybe that means he's not at all
attracted to me. Why does this thought leave me feeling so depressed?

“How'd you sleep?” Jay asks, drinking his coffee.
I take a sip of mine, “Really good. I don't even remember dreaming.” I pause to take another sip.

“Thank you for letting me stay over. I'm sorry about the past few days, I'm not normally such a
nuisance...or so dramatic,” I sheepishly smile.

“You're not a nuisance, Lily. I've just always lived a solitary life. I've never gotten personal with

anyone, so this,” he points back and forth between us, “is foreign to me and throws me off.”

“What do you mean by never getting personal with anyone? Surely you've had close friends or

family?” I'm trying to ignore how flutter-filled my tummy is at the moment. His comment didn't
insinuate he had feelings for me so I don't understand why it caused so many butterflies.

Jay shrugs, “I guess I was close with my dad, but we never really talked to each other. I've talked

more with you than I ever did him. I prefer to only have acquaintances, not friends. I'm an extremely
private person.”

“No shit,” I mumble. I tighten my lips together; I hadn't meant for that to come out.
Luckily he chuckles and smiles at me.

I stop my mug midway up and become mesmerized by him. He's never smiled like that before and

he's gorgeous. It's the kind of smile that makes sweet, innocent girls want to drop their panties and
throw out all inhibition. It makes me feel flustered, and even more aware of the pure, hard man that he
is. I avert my eyes because my cheeks have flushed and I don't want to know if he noticed.

I set the coffee mug down and get up, “I think I've wasted enough of your time.” I finally get up

the courage to look at him. His head's cocked to the side, looking perplexed and slightly amused.
“You have no idea how awesome it was to get some sleep. Thank you doesn’t seem good
enough...but, yeah...” Now he has an adorable grin that he's trying to hide behind his cup, but I see it
and it makes me more flustered and unable to form sentences. “So...yeah...thanks.” I hop off the bar
stool, slightly tripping as I scurry out the door.

11:17pm

I wake up from a horrible nightmare, drenched in sweat. This one had me stuck in the car but now

all the men were Will, hurting me and forcing me to have sex.

I look out my bedroom window. Even though I told myself not to bother him anymore I can't stop

myself from wanting to go over there. It's more than just wanting a good nights rest; nobody would
dare hurt me with Jay next to me. He's become my safety net whether he likes it or not.

I hurry across the street. Even though the area is well lit I'm still spooked by every shadow.
I knock on the door, and when Jay answers he stares at me a moment, face stripped of any

expression, then speaks, “Nightmare?”

I nod my head yes.
Jay steps back and goes to the couch, leaving the door wide open. I assume that's my invite to

join him, so I do. I close the door and lock it behind me.

I sit down in the same spot from last night and silently watch while Jay plays a first person

shooter game. He's not bad, but I know I'm just as good. I get up and go to his console in search of
another controller. It's sitting next to the cable box so I grab it, turn it on, and when he dies I join in.

As luck would have it, we are placed in a section I naturally kick ass in and I annihilate him.
Jay's mouth drops open at the screen when he sees how many kill shots I got, “No fucking way.

Rematch.”

We play for a couple more hours until I can hardly keep my eyes open and I get up to stretch.
Jay shuts everything down and follows me to bed. I'm glad I'm walking in front of him and he

can't see the absurdly happy smile on my face.

I snuggle into bed, listening to him use the bathroom and brush his teeth. He gets in and we are

both on our backs staring up at the ceiling.

“Where did you learn to play like that?”
“My younger brothers. Any time I visit or when I still lived at home they would always challenge

me to a match.”

“You're really good for someone who doesn't play that much.”
“I've always had natural aim, and I guess it carries into video games too.”
“You want to tell me what had you so scared in your dream you came here?”
“Just reliving the way it felt when one of them touched my breast and the way they described

what they were going to do to me, and my dreams always have the stench of vomit from me choking
on mine when it happened.”

Jay's body stiffens next to me, “They felt your breast? Bare?”
“Yeah. Only one of them did.”
“I didn't know that,” Jay whispers. “Which one was he? The one holding your top half in the

car?”

“Yeah.”
He turns his head and studies the side of my face, “You choked on your own vomit?”
Shit, I shouldn't have told him that. It's humiliating. “It was when one of them got very descriptive

on how they wanted me. It was scary and sounded horribly painful.”

Jay brought his hand up that was next to mine and brushed the back of his fingers on my cheek, “I

don't want you knowing details, but they won't be hurting anyone again.”

I turn my head to look at him and his hand gets stuck under my cheek, “They can't trace anything

back to you, right?”

Jay's lips tighten and it looks like he's stifling back a laugh, “No, babe, they can't. There's nothing

for them to trace. I know what I'm doing.” As he speaks the pad of his thumb runs along my lips and
my breathing stops as I watch his eyes following it.

His words should bother me, the fact that he basically just admitted to making them “disappear,”

but they don't. I'm glad they can't hurt anyone else.

“I know what I told you can't stop the nightmares from coming, but you don't have to worry about

them anymore, okay?”

I nod and he moves his head to look back at the ceiling, bringing his hand back down next to

mine.

I take Jay's hand into mine and interlock our fingers.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He doesn't respond and we lay like that, eventually dozing off.

Chapter 7

Monday, January 6
9:46am

When I wake up we are still holding hands, but opposite ones. We have both switched to our

stomachs. Our hands are now at the head of the bed between the pillows, entwined together. I can't
say who initiated this, but his arm is the one overlapping mine. I smile into my pillow.

As quietly as I can, I get out of bed and make coffee. A half hour later I'm done drinking mine.

He's still not up, so I leave him a note thanking him and go home. The rest of the morning he's on my
mind, but I distract myself by running errands. Today's my mom's day off and she treats me to lunch
before she goes to the salon to get her hair cut and colored.

I'm job searching when my cellphone rings. It's not a number I recognize and I almost don’t

answer, but the area code says it's local and I decide to answer it.

“Hello?”
“Come over at two. I'll teach you some more moves,” then the line goes dead. Jay is the most

bizarre man I have ever met. Nothing he does is how normal people go about things. At least his
voice used the warm softness that I love, even if it was in a demanding tone.

At two o’clock sharp I'm about to knock on Jay's door when it flies open and he's standing there,

bare chested and pulling on a shirt. The sight of his iron-packed chest and his tidal wave of abs makes
my mouth go dry. I'm so turned on I can't think straight. I hardly have time to get a proper viewing
before he's covered by his shirt. It's then that my brain registers the different markings and scars that
cover his bare skin. I'm more curious than ever about the mystery that is Jay. I don't even know his
last name.

“It's Lincoln,” he informs me.
I blush, “Just talked out loud, didn't I?”
He smirks, “Yeah. You always been like that?”
I sigh, “My whole life.”
We immediately jump into it, and he teaches me to take down an attacker.
Jay takes a hold of me with one hand and has me grab his hand on top making sure he can't rip it

away. Then he shows me to twist the hand in, towards his thumb, making him lose his hold and locks
his elbow. With his elbow locked, I can pivot around and thrust a foot into the side of his knee. This
takes him down and gives me a chance to escape.

I fail miserably and can hardly make him budge. Granted he is double my size, but still.
He tries showing me how to get an attacker off if he has me on the ground, but I fail at that too.
“Your muscles are weak. You need to start working out.” He stands up, offering his hand to help

me up.

Jay has me flying to my feet by my hand as if I weigh nothing.
“Geez, you're strong.”
“I am, but you're also incredibly tiny and barely weigh a thing. Another reason you need to gain

muscle. Your frame is so tiny you need the extra help.”

“What should I start doing?'
He pulls me down the hall to the door leading into the garage and opens it, “You work out.”

He turns on the light and his garage is a personal gym full of machines, weights, punching bag,

and various other equipment. The left wall is covered in long, wide mirrors, side by side with a
ballet bar running across. The thought of Jay doing ballet moves makes me start to laugh.

He smiles at me, “What?”
I point to the bar, “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yeah, it's for flexibility. It's just as important as strength.”
I grab a hold of his bicep and try to ignore how muscular it is, “Please promise I can watch you

use it.” I giggle.

He rolls his eyes, “You make me feel like some ungraceful barbarian.”
I make sure he sees my eyes scaling his body, “Any reason I shouldn't?” I have such a huge smile

on my face, still thinking of Jay doing ballerina moves on the bar.

He lets out a big, deep, barrel laugh that fills the room. It's such a friendly, welcoming sound.

“Good point. I probably look silly doing it, but it makes a huge difference on my body.”

“Do you do yoga too?
He nods his head yes, smiling just as wide back at me. I can't get over how different he looks

when he smiles.

“Okay, enough making fun of me.” He gestures to his garage/gym, “You can use my stuff.”
“Cool, thanks. When can I come over and do it?”
He smirks, “God, Lily, you sure have a way of wording things.”
I blush and laugh, “And you have a dirty a mind.”
“Yeah, well, I'm a guy. We're hard wired that way.”
I laugh, “Very true.”
“I would start off three or four days a week for about an hour.”
“When?”
“When what?”
“When should I come here and workout? What's a good time of day?”
“Any time after ten. On Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays I start work at seven. Sundays from

four to eleven. You’ll want to come before that. Speaking of work, I keep forgetting I work tonight.”

My face drops, “But it's a Monday.”
“Yeah. Some dude's renting the bar for the night for his twenty-first birthday and they want me

there for backup. I guess he's invited a lot of people.”

“That sucks,” I whisper more to myself than him.
“Yup.” He enters the garage and goes over to a machine, adjusting it's weight by a lot, “Let's try

everything out so I know you're using it properly and we can find a good weight for you.”

I try out a few. When I'm at the leg press Jay starts to adjust the weights, then stops to stare at me.

“You're worried about me working tonight because I won't be home for you to come over.” It's a
statement, not a question, because we both know he's right.

I don't look at him but I nod my head in agreement.
“You've got to get past this, Lily,” Jay moves in front of me and bends down, making our eyes

level. He grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. I panic, pulling my head back as anxiety sets in.

“Don't do that!” I yell.
Jay looks stunned and his face has paled a touch, “Don't grab your chin or don't touch your face?”
“The chin, please don't ever do that!” It was what Will always did, and when Jay just did that it

made me panic and feel queasy.

“Never again,” he promises, studying my face. “You okay? You look like you're holding back a

panic attack.”

I put on a fake smile, “Nope, I'm cool.”
I can tell he doesn't believe me.
“Those men can't hurt you. I know that doesn’t take away what happened but you can't let them

have that kind of control over you; don't give that to them.”

He sits down on the weight bench across from me, “When I was a kid, I had a recurring

nightmare. I'd wake up in cold sweats, scared shitless. My dad would have me close my eyes and go
back to the exact point I woke up, no matter how scared I was to do so. Then he had me imagine how
it ends as if I had kept dreaming, but I had total control and could make the dream however I wished
the outcome to be. Sometimes I would turn it into something humorous or sometimes I would make it a
happy ever after story. But it worked...most of the time.”

“So when I wake up I should just remember how you saved me and I'm safe?”
“Yeah, something like that. Or go back and have yourself fight back and win.”
I give a half-smile, “Okay, I'll try it.”
Jay leans over, resting on his elbows, and stares at his hands, “When I got to the car and saw it

was you I remember thinking, for a runt she sure doesn't go out without a fight. The way your face
looked and how you were moving your body, it was clear that you weren't giving up even if it killed
you. I was impressed.”

He looks up to meet my eyes. They are soft and caring, making my insides feel squishy, “You're a

fighter, and strong-willed. Don't forget that.”

I snort and roll my eyes.
“Seriously, Lily. You have internal strength not everyone possesses, you just need to believe in

yourself.”

I think of my relationship with Will and know that's not true, but I don't argue with him.
“You were terrified of me when we first met, but you still came and brought me pie. Anybody

else would have never come back.”

“Doesn’t that make me an idiot?”
Jay grins, “It shocked the hell out of me when I saw you there with food in your hands. You

seemed real nervous, but not scared. Why?”

“You fascinate me, even the parts of you that scare me,” I respond honestly, because that's how

comfortable Jay makes me.

“That's the point I’m trying to make. There are two ways girls respond to me: pure fear and they

run like hell, or they see me as a badass they want to wrap their legs around. And then there's you.” I
can't tell what he means by that, especially since the very idea of wrapping my legs around him has
my body heating up, craving intimate contact.

“You're different, Lily,” my face must have shown my misunderstanding, “You treat me

differently. I'm not anybody to you but me; I'm not your dream of a wild night with a bad boy or
someone you avert your eyes from, afraid that an act as simple as a smile might make me stalk you.
Nobody's treated me like you do.”

“I thought you were bad news when we first met,” I guiltily tell him.
“Your first instincts about me weren’t wrong, Lily. I am bad news, and if I weren't leaving in a

month I'd make you stay the hell away from me.”

“You're leaving?” I hate how much it hurts to say those words out loud.
“Yeah, I never stay in one place for too long. Nine months is my max.”
“You move every nine months?” I'm shocked. Who does that?

People who are running, that's who.
“At least.”
“I'd ask why, but I'm sure you won't tell me.”
“You are correct.”
“Why haven't you left here yet?”
He chews on his lip, contemplating how forthcoming he wants to be, “I can't leave until some

matters are taken care of. I figure another month should settle it.”

“Who are you?” I'm studying him intently, trying to read any underlying layers, but his skin is so

thick with disguise it's useless.

“It doesn’t matter. I'll be gone soon and you'll never see me again.”
I can't believe how sad that makes me.
He finishes showing me all his equipment and I head home, more exhausted and drenched in

sweat than I have ever been. I really do need to start working out.

That night when a nightmare strikes, I try Jay's technique. It doesn't put me to sleep but it does

give me something else to think about, and within an hour of waking I'm asleep again.

At eleven the next day I go to Jay's house to work out, and I'm disappointed when he leaves to run

errands instead of joining me.

Chapter 8

Friday, January 10
7:11pm

On Wednesday, Jay had abruptly called me to come over to learn more moves. He kept asking

about my nightmares and making sure I was doing okay. I lied to him and told him his technique was
working. It was more of a white lie, because it has helped me. I am getting more sleep. However, I
think now my lack of sleep is me preferring his bed to my own.

We practiced kicking to the groin but I made a mistake and turned the wrong way so I rolled into

him. I had lost my footing thinking I could still try and escape, causing me to stumble and fall back
and bringing Jay with me. I landed flat on my back with his heavy body pressed on top. His forearms
were on the sides of my face, making our noses centimeters from touching. We stared into each others'
eyes and all that could be heard was our heavy breathing.

I had nervously licked my lips, but his face had been close enough that the tip of my tongue

grazed his bottom lip. His eyes squeezed together before opening and staring down at me. His face
was hard, serious, and devoid of any emotion, but he didn't get up. Instead of our heavy breathing
subsiding, it seemed to increase the longer we stayed like that. He eventually got up, mumbling
something about having errands to run and I was pushed out the door.

The rest of my time has consisted of job searching and going so out of my mind with boredom

that every nook and cranny of my mom's house is polished, scrubbed, and dust free. So when Naomi
called during her lunch break to complain about her shitty day and she's picking me up at seven to get
drinks, I was thrilled.

As I'm getting ready, I realize I'm ecstatic for a completely different reason than boredom and

seeing my friends: I know we will go to The Recovery Room and I will see Jay. I can't seem to stop
my mind from wandering to him.

I can't decide what to wear and end up calling Stevie for advice. We decide on my pleated navy-

blue summer dress. I look at myself in the mirror and instantly hear Will's voice telling me I look like
a whore and I feel sick. I know it's not true; the dress hits my knees and covers most of my breasts, but
I'd let him control my thought process for too long. Every tiny part of me begs to put on a blazer and
cover up, but there is a small part of me that shines through, telling me that I can dress sexy and not be
any of the horrible things Will once told me.

Stevie's horn blasts and I reluctantly place my blazer on my bed.
I pause at the door to turn back for it.
No, Lily, you need to do this.
I was fully covered the last time I went out and that didn't stop those men from attacking me. Will

is the only man I've had sex with – if you can even call it that – so I'm definitely not a whore, slut,
tramp, harlot, or any of the other nasty words he'd used to get me to change clothes. I grab the blazer
anyway, using the excuse that it's winter and I might get cold even though we live in Mesa, Arizona
and it never really gets cold, but I don't put it on.

It feels good to see my friends and hear all about what has happened to them over the week. We

agree going out Friday nights will be a weekly tradition. We sit in the parking lot behind the bar for
twenty minutes while they listen to me talk out my fears of getting ready and how much I still allow

Will's voice to control me. Being the amazing friends that they are, they naturally reassure me that my
clothes would be considered conservative compared to what most girls wear nowadays. Stevie
points to herself and the tight tapestry corset she's wearing that causes her breasts to pour out, her
mini leather skirt that she's wearing with purple platform pumps that have a five inch heel. I think she
looks hot.

We step out of the car, and right before I shut the door I grab my blazer; there is somewhat of a

chill in the air. I put it on and button it in the middle, ignoring the frowns of my friends.

The moment we round the corner The Recovery Room is in sight. I see Jay and my stomach does

an over-the-top twirling sensation. The sight of him has me wanting to leap into his arms and kiss
every square inch of him.

He doesn't acknowledge us when we approach, just steps aside for us to enter. As we head to the

bar I look over my shoulder to find him texting, which looks odd coming from him; he doesn't seem
like a texter.

When we reach the bar the bartender is texting too, and finishes typing before she looks up to

greet us. Naomi orders her usual: Captain Morgan and 7-up. I start to tell her mine but she stops me.

“Vodka gimlet on the rocks,” she informs me, taking us all by surprise.
She makes our drinks and places them on the bar. Naomi and I hand her our money. She takes

Naomi's but doesn't reach for mine, “Your drinks are on the house tonight.”

I must have given her a confused look because she follows it with a “just following orders”

before leaving us to help someone else.

I place a tip on the bar and when she walks past she snarls, shoving it back at me, “I'm not in the

mood to get chewed out by Jay tonight. I have strict orders not to take money from you.”

My mouth drops open, and she chuckles, “You think you’re getting free drinks because I think

you're pretty? If that were the case I'd make you pay and the other one wouldn't.”

This perks Stevie up and she leans over the bar, letting her cleavage spill out and giving the

bartender a seductive smile, “You play that way?”

“I play it all.” She struts off to go get a man his drink.
“I think I'm in love girls,” Stevie swoons, admiring the bartender's ass. Which I have to admit, as

far as butts go hers is exceptional.

Naomi hasn't stopped scrutinizing me since we got here.
“Out with it,” I order, “I know you have something to say, so say it.”
We sit and make ourselves comfortable at the bar. If I get free drinks all night I'm not moving.
“Are you two seeing each other?” She pries, trying to come off casual but I can tell it bothers her.
I look over to Jay who has his back to us at the main door, “No, just friends. Well, not really that

either. Right now I think we're just friendly neighbors.” I don't want to tell them about our sleepovers
or that he's teaching me how to defend myself.

Stevie snorts, “Ha!”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Call it 'friendly neighbors', but I saw your reaction when we got here. You're totally into him.

You were getting wet in your panties at the sight of him.”

My mouth falls open then quickly snaps shut. She's right and we both know it.
“Don't be embarrassed, he's fucking hot and I'd totally be doing him tonight if you didn't want

him,” Stevie licks her lips, ogling Jay's backside.

“I know he helped Lily, but he still gives me the creeps,” Naomi gives an exaggerated shiver.

“I'd let her have him, Lily. That guy is trouble.”

“He saved Lily!” Stevie fires back, “He can't be all bad.”
“Just because he's not a rapist and helps girls to not become victims doesn’t make him a good

guy,” Naomi retorts.

“Can we please not talk about this?” They are getting louder and I'm afraid Jay might hear them.

“We're neighbors. That's it. End of discussion.”

Stevie whistles to get the bartender's attention. As she heads over she makes me a fresh drink,

even though I've hardly made a dent in mine.

Stevie sticks her hand out, “Stevie.”
“Nina,” she replies, shaking her hand.
“What's the deal with the drinks?” Stevie asks.
“I've been ordered to make sure she never has an empty glass, and no money is to be taken from

her.”

“By Jay,” Stevie confirms.
Nina nods before focusing her attention on me, “You his girl?”
I squirm in my seat, “No.”
“Then why is he sending me threats if I don't let him now the minute a guy hits on you?”
“When did he tell you that?” Naomi demands, her protective friend mode in full force.
“He texted me the minute she walked in the door.”
“What'd he say?” I gush out too quickly, and I can instantly tell they know I like him.
“Basically he texted me to make sure the fucking adorable, tiny as shit girl, had VIP service all

night, and I better fucking tell him if a guy is hitting on her. Jay tells you to do something, you do it.”

Can't argue that.
“He called me adorable,” I say a little too enthusiastically, completely embarrassing myself.
Nina assesses me, “If you're not his girl, who are you?”
“Neighbor.”
She tilts her head to the side, “Neighbor?” She asks as if she has never heard of such a thing.
I shrug.
“You sleeping together?”
I flush and they all stare at me open-mouthed. Shit.
“No.”
Nina seems suspicious, but she doesn’t press it and goes back to work.
“Be careful, okay?” Naomi says before heading into a long discussion on her shitty boss and how

he treats her like his personal assistant. It's not long until Naomi has had too many drinks and she and
Stevie head off to dance. I stay put; dancing and me don't get along.

A guy slides into the bar stool Stevie just exited.
“Hi,” he smoothly says.
I angle my body better to view him.
“Hi,” I smile back at him.
“I'm John,” his smile is definitely on the flirtatious side.
As I'm about to return my name, a strong, hard warmth is pressed against my back and I inhale the

familiar scent of Jay.

I naturally lean back into him, letting my body sink in.
A look of horror and panic crosses John's face and I know Jay must be giving him one of his

sinister stare downs.

“Sorry man, didn't know she was taken,” John scurries off.

Jay stays firmly against my back and the longer he stays there the more I mold into him, loving

how good it feels.

He leans forward so his fists are planted on the bar and his massive arms trap me in – not that I

mind. His left fist straightens out, slaps a key in front of me, then resumes it's position.

“You stay with me tonight,” he commands, not giving me a choice.
I brush my fingers on the rough edges of the key, “Why?”
“I like having you in my bed.” His response sends a zing straight to my core, “I won't be home

until three, so don't use the dead-bolt, only the bottom lock.”

I hold the key in my hand, “How will you get in without a key?”
“Just remember to only lock the bottom. I'm not in the mood to deal with the deadbolt.”
“You can pick locks,” I say out loud what I'm thinking in my head.
“Yeah, baby, I can.”
Not surprising.
Cold air suctions to my back as the presence of Jay is gone. I turn around to see him standing

back at the entrance, pulling his shades back down.

“Sure you're only neighbors?” Nina smirks as she goes to the cash register.
I don't respond, I'm too busy replaying what just happened and the fact that he likes having me

over...in his bed.

Nina comes back over and hands me a slip of paper.
“For your friend. It's my number.” She's about to retreat but stops, “Not Stevie, the other one.”
“Got it.”
She smiles, knocks on the bar, and leaves me with another drink. I now have three drinks in front

of me, none of which are finished.

I tuck the number in my pocket and hope I remember to give it to Naomi, who is, in fact, a

lesbian. It's not something I ever think to mention. She informed me at fourteen she thought she might
be, and by sixteen she had confirmed it. Her dating girls is as familiar to me as if she dated boys.

I start getting bored as the night carries on. Stevie and Naomi haven't left the dance floor. Before

I let myself over think it, I get up to talk to Jay. The bar is slow for a Friday night and there's no line.

“Hey,” I say leaning on the door frame from the inside.
He faces me and rests his back on the frame across from me. He gives me a slight twitch of a

smile, “Hey,”

“Thanks for the drinks.”
“I was hoping it would give you incentive to bake me a pie.”
“Well, I guess now I know what I'm doing tomorrow. What flavor?”
“Pumpkin.”
“Good, since that's the only kind I know how to make.” I start chewing on my bottom lip, “Why'd

you stop that guy from hitting on me?”

“Would you have liked it if you saw a girl hitting on me?”
Instant jealousy hits me, taking me by surprise, “No. I would have hated it.”
“There's your answer.”
I can't stop it from happening and my face breaks out into a huge smile.
Jay grins, “I love the way your eyes glow when you smile. You could get a man to be your slave

with a smile like that.”

I didn't think it was possible, but my mouth widens even more and I feel like my face might crack.
“God, you're beautiful,” Jay says, so low and soft I almost can't hear him. I place my hand firmly

over my stomach, hoping to stop the wave of flutters that pass through.

Wow, that's a strange sensation.
Naomi comes stumbling over and leans on me, “I'm exhausted. Between running my boss's

errands all day and dancing, my feet are killing me. Sorry, but you're gonna have to say goodbye to
lover-boy because we're calling it a night.”

Jay leans over to speak into my ear. “See you later,” his voice is low enough that only I can hear

and I give a slight nod. I'm sure the large smile on my face is giving away how excited I am, but at the
moment I really don't care.

Naomi drunkenly steps between us, “You're one scary-ass guy. You know that?”
I gasp and my eyes bug out, but to my relief Jay only laughs.
Naomi’s face turns serious. “Be good to her,” she warns, “She doesn't need another douchebag

hurting her.”

“I second that,” Stevie says, joining us, “and we're not just talking physically here bucko.”
Jay's face hardens as they lead me out the door. As we walk I look over my shoulder to see Jay

watching us and deeply frowning.

By the time we reach Stevie's jeep the two are groping each other and making-out. When Naomi

gets drunk the two of them always fool around. It's been that way since high school.

Chapter 9

Saturday, January 11
3:23am

I feel Jay slide into bed and lie flat on his back. He lays there a moment or two, then he starts to

wiggle, adjusting his comfort. He rolls so he is almost on his side, then seems to change his mind and
returns to his back. He does this two more times. I'm about to ask him what he's doing when he lies all
the way on his side and stays that way. I begin to fall back asleep but then I feel his hand briefly rest
on my hip before sliding away. I sense it hovering over me, ready to try again, but it pauses, then
slowly lowers back to my hip. I hold my breath. I can somehow sense that there's more to what he's
trying to do. I don't want to move or speak for fear it will prevent him from doing what ever it is he
seems to be struggling with. Jay's body seems to relax more the longer he lets his hand rest on my hip
and I begin to grow disappointed that that's all he was trying to accomplish, but then I feel his hand
start to slide over my waist, hesitate a split second, then continue sliding until it is all the way around
me. I'm about to scoot back to close the gap between us when his arm gently pulls me in so that my
backside is tightly held against him.

I move my hand and grab hold of the one clutching me. I weave my fingers with his and bring his

arm up so I'm cuddling it in my arms against my chest, forcing him to hold me tighter. His muscles
tighten and I think he's going to pull away, but he's only adjusting himself so he can rest his cheek
against my head. The way it feels to be cocooned in the arms of his massive body makes a sigh of
contentment slip out, causing Jay to hold me tighter. I completely melt into him because nothing has
ever felt more right than being wrapped in him. I can feel Jay's body doing the same and in this
moment we are connected; I know he feels it too.

I listen and feel his warm breath pressed close to my ear, enjoying the way it makes my skin

tingle.

“Lily?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you awake?”
A sensual shiver starts from the brush of his lips when he speaks and trails down my whole body.
“Yeah,” I barley manage to get out.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” I hope he can hear how much I truly mean it.
“Do you remember the first time we met?”
I smile, “Every second.”
I feel him smile too, “Me too.” He pauses and I know he's working up to whatever he needs to

get out, “The moment I leaned in closer to you, you flinched as though you thought I was going to hurt
you. I wasn't. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” Or at least now I do.
“It bothered me how much I frightened you. I'm used to people being scared of the way I look, but

you looked so doe-eyed and innocent it shattered a piece of me. The only reason I leaned closer was
because I saw the faded bruise on your cheek and I wasn't sure if it was a shadow or not. Then you
flinched, flinched the way a woman does before a man strikes her,” he pauses and my breath hitches

before coming to a complete stop, waiting for him to continue. “Did someone hit you?”

I don't respond. I'm not sure if I want him knowing how I let someone treat me the way Will did.
He lightly shakes my body. “Lily,” he pleads.
“Yes,” I shamefully whisper as softly as I can.
Jay's whole body clenches tightly. “Who?” I can hear the menace behind his words even though

he's trying his best to conceal it.

“My ex-boyfriend.”
His breathing becomes ragged,“Is that why you moved back home?”
I nod my head yes.
Jay lets out a low curse word as he lowers his head to bury it in my neck. “Was that the first

time?”

Again I don't answer and he gently shakes me, but I can't. “How many times?”
I just can't seem to bring out the words to respond. I'm embarrassed and humiliated. I'm afraid if I

talk I might cry.

His lips press a kiss so softly on the curve of my neck I barley feel it. “Talk to me Lily, please,”

the sincerity and despair in his voice forces the word to come out.

“Three.”
Jay doesn't respond and I begin to think I spoke too low for him to hear.
“How badly?” I no longer feel his warm breath on my skin and I know he's holding his breath,

waiting for my response.

“The first time he pushed me hard against my chest, causing me to stumble back and smack the

back of my head on the coffee table. The second,” I pause to calm myself and to stop my throat from
tightening up for how stupid I was. We were having a silly argument and he claimed he only meant to
give me a light shove so I forgave him. Even a light shove shouldn't be okay. “The second time he
didn't hit me, but forced me to have sex with him, which hurt worse.” I try to push back memories of
Will shoving my face down onto the mattress and forcing himself into me, brutally and hard from
behind. Jay's the first person I have told about the first two incidents.

Jay has me held tightly against him as he buries his face deeper into my neck and hair. “And the

third.”

“Which was also the last,” I need to point out, as if that made the situation any better. “It was the

morning after he forced himself into me and I told him I was leaving him. He grabbed me by my
cheeks, smushing them together, yelled horrible things, then backhanded me and kneed me in the
stomach, causing me to go down in pain. Then he kicked me extremely hard in the same spot and I
thought I would pass out from the pain.” He kicked me hard enough I saw stars, something I had
thought only happened in cartoons, but there they had been: tiny sparkling specks dancing in a blurry
haze.

We lay together for a long time while I listen to him trying to regain normal breathing, and over

time his clenched muscles slowly soften.

“What's his name?” The ice-cold tone he uses sends a different kind of shiver down my spine.
“Why?”
“I'm gonna kill him.” The air in the room stills from the harsh, menacing way he grinds out the

words.

I twist my body as best I can but he has an iron grip around me. I need to see his face and how

serious he is. I get a small glimpse through the edges of my eyes and his face is shadowed in all-
consuming savage brutality. Although I trust he would never hurt me, he still has the power to terrify

me. He means it, there is no doubt in my mind.

“You’re serious,” I gasp.
“I've never wanted to kill anyone more,” he inhales sharply, as if shocked by his own words,

then completely unhooks his body from mine and rolls to his back. I follow so I'm on my other side,
viewing him.

Jay has his eyes closed and his hand is scrubbing the scars on his face.
“You okay?” I ask, growing nervous by his sudden change of moods. He seems to be internally

brewing on something.

He pinches the bridge of his nose before sitting up. He rests over his bent knees, dangling his

arms over and hanging his head.

I sit up and scoot my body, resting my cheek against his shoulder blade, and I run my hand back

and forth up his bicep. I would like to be able to wrap both arms around him but know it would be
physically impossible from the sheer size of him and my short, tiny frame.

“Jay?” This time I'm the one pleading for a response. I nudge him with my whole body and he

doesn't budge. I'd giggle if this moment wasn't so serious. “This time you have to open up to me.”

“You're the first person to ever ask me if I'm okay.” I know this isn't what's got him bent out of

shape, but I'm glad I've got him talking.

“Ever, as in your whole entire life?”
“Yeah,” the gruffness to his voice is back, but this time the sound tugs at my heart.
“You never got hurt in school or at home and had an adult ask you that?” Surely someone at least

once in his life asked if he was okay.

“I never went to school, my dad taught me everything I know.”
My hand stops rubbing his arms, “No mom?” I was almost hesitant to ask but he's opening up to

me and I don't want him to stop.

“She died when I was six, so she might have but I don't remember,” the vulnerability his voice

carried squeezes my gut and takes hold of my heart.

I restart the rhythmic motion of stroking his arm. “Your dad's not the...” I swallow hard, not sure

if I can finish my question for fear of the answer.

“Are my scars from him? No, they're not.” I notice my fingers have begun stroking the long, thick

scar on his forearm without realizing it. “He raised me the best he knew how. It might have been more
than a kid should have to handle, but he was never cruel.” I hadn't a clue what to make of his remarks;
they did nothing but expand the growing mystery that is Jay.

There are so many more things I want to say and ask, but at the moment all I can do is let my

other hand start playing with the nape of his neck.

“What did he do when you left?”
I had to think and register back to our previous conversation. “Begged me not to, and promised

that he would never do it again so many times my head hurt.”

“Has he contacted you since then?” Jay had an edge to his tone.
“Yes, but I never respond.”
“When was the last time?”
“Last week.”
“Think he'd ever come here?”
I lift my head to rest my chin on him so I can view his face, “Why are you asking? In hopes he

does and you can hurt him?”

“I'm trying to figure out if he's still a threat to you or not.” He moves around, making us face to

face. He bends one of his legs over my lap so his arm can rest on top and he brushes the hair off my
shoulders with the other. “I won't go looking for him, but if he comes here looking for you I can't
promise anything.” He refuses to meet my eyes. He seems scared and unsure about what he's telling
me, but I can see he fully means every word.

Jay scoots closer, forcing me to move my legs so that they come around his hips and I'm between

his thunderous legs. The nearness causes my heart to quicken.

He lets out a long, heavy sigh, wraps his arms around my waist, and lands his forehead on my

shoulder. I place one hand on his shoulder and the other plays with the hair behind his ear at the
bottom of the hair line. I can feel goosebumps form on his skin from my touch.

“I don't want you to ever be alone until I'm confident he won't come near you.” His breath runs

down my chest and my nipples harden from the contact.

Jay's head marginally lifts and he plants his lips on my shoulder. He begins to caresses the skin

with his mouth, tenderly sliding along. I move the hand playing with his hair to hold the back of his
neck and my bottom moves closer. We both let out a groan when we touch, causing his arousal to
press firmly against mine.

His mouth continues to play along my skin, working its way up my neck. One of his hands comes

up to hold my head in place from wanting to roll back in ecstasy. The closer his lips get to mine the
heavier our breathing gets, and my hips start to grind against him. This causes him to pull away from
me. He lets go of my head to swipe down his face before using it to cover his eyes and massage his
temples.

“It's late, we should go to sleep.” He backs away and slides back under the covers, yanking on

my arm to join him. I curl back into his arm. Even though I'm tired I can't fall asleep, thinking about
Jay's lips on my skin.

Chapter 10

8:16am

“What are you doing awake?” I ask, rubbing my sleepy eyes and shuffling into Jay's kitchen.
“I'm not much of a sleeper.” Jay's eyes travel the length of me and he frowns, “Did you sleep in

your clothes from last night?”

I hop onto the bar stool, “No pj’s.”
“Next time grab one of my shirts,” he pours me a cup of coffee and adds cream before handing it

to me.

“Thanks. Next time?” I try not to sound too hopeful but I know I’ve failed.
“I was serious last night when I said I don't want you alone until I know that fucker isn't a threat

to you.”

“Will?”
Jay's face hardens, “So his first name's Will?”
“Yeah, but I honestly doubt he'll bother me.”
“I hope you're right. For his sake, not yours. He won't ever touch you again.” I squirm a bit from

the ferocity of his glare and I nervously drink my coffee.

“You never did tell me about how you fell down the cliff.” I bring this up hoping to change the

topic, plus it's been on the back of my mind ever since he told me.

“I thought about it, but there's no way I can tell you without explaining why I was there in the first

place, and that story includes how I got this,” his finger touches the middle scar on his face. His eyes
darken and his features turn hard and serious, throwing me off guard, “And I don't want you to ever
know a single detail about how I got the scars on my face. Ever. Got that, Lily?” He moves so his fists
are resting on the island, leaning over but still towering over me. I'm paralyzed with fear and I can
only nod my head.

“Good.” He stays in position and neither one of us looks away.
He's become the side of Jay that truly terrifies me, but now I have a question that I have to ask or

it will burn a hole in my head until it's out.

“Are you saying each scar happened separately?” The moment the last words escaped my lips I

want to take them back. Jay's body ripples in anger and his veins bulge out as fiery-red colors his
skin. I slide off the bar stool in a panic and take a step back.

“This is the last conversation we will have about this. The scars on my face are none of your

fucking business so don't ever bring them up again,” his voice remains low, but it's just as terrifying
as when it booms through an entire room. “I have a dark past, Lily, and I don't want you caught up in
it. You're too fucking sweet and pure to get brought into my world.” He stomps down the hall to the
garage, where I hear music start to blast.

I don't move for quite some time as I let my pulse stabilize. I try to wrap my head around what

just happened. How can Jay go from being caring and kind to withdrawn and cruel in the blink of an
eye?

Jay comes back out rubbing his head, appearing tortured, “I'm sorry, Lily. That was pretty fucked

up how I yelled at you. There's parts of my life you can't ever know about. I need to know when I
leave here in a few weeks you're safe.”

“You need to stop scaring me like that. I know you're a moody person and I don't expect you to be

friendly all the time, but you need to have control over your words and the volume of your voice.”

“I don't want to be someone you fear.”
“Then don't be.”
“Can I take you somewhere today? Let me show you something about myself? Something I love?”
“Umm...I'm not sure. After what just happened I think I need some distance from you.”
“I get that, I do, but I really want you to see me doing something I love. Maybe you'll see I’m not

such a monster.”

“You're not a monster, Jay, just really scary at times.”
“I've never had to restrain myself before; my natural way is to lash out.”
“Well, I took it from Will, and I don't want to be a fool twice.”
Jay's palms come up to rub his eyes, “You're right, it's better if you stay away from me. I swear I

would never hurt you, but it doesn’t mean my words can't...or my past.” He softly speaks the last part.
When he removes his hands he looks lost and alone and my heart breaks. All I want to do is go over
and hold him.

I am an idiot. Will used to give me his pitiful faces and I would forgive him. Look where that got

me.

“I'm gonna go. I'll see you for my lessons.” I don't wait for a reply and head home. Once inside, I

dash to the bathroom and take a shower. Showers always seem to help clear my head, but it doesn't
work this time; Jay is as present as ever. The pull to go to him has formed into an invisible rope
trying to lasso me in. I fight the urge to see if he's left for where ever he's headed today, which I'll
admit I desperately want to know where or what it is. Anything to unlock another clue.

I throw on my old, comfy, around the house jeans that are frayed at the knees and a faded t-shirt

from the Nine Inch Nails concert I went to years ago. I comb my hair and brush my teeth, but I can't
stand it anymore and decide to take a peek out the kitchen window to see if he's left yet.

Looking out, I see him getting into his truck in his uniform of jeans, gray shirt, black combat

boots, and black shades.

My body springs into action, not giving my mind a chance to control it. I'm running out the door,

grabbing my TOMS, purse, and only locking the bottom as I run to his truck that is backing out of the
driveway.

I'm running full speed now, calling his name. He starts to drive off, then stops when he notices

me. I throw open the door. As I try to hop up I embarrassingly realize I never put on a bra and my
breasts are bouncing away. Jay is staring at me as I slam the door shut, but I can't see his eyes and his
mouth is drawn straight. Maybe I'm not invited anymore, oops. Well too bad for him, I'm going.

He doesn’t say a word and keeps driving. I slip on my shoes and make another realization that I

never put on any makeup and my hair is dripping wet. I tell myself it doesn't matter, that I'm not here
to impress anyone, but I know that's a lie. I'm in my lounging around the house clothes, bra-less,
faceless, with soaking wet hair. I'm pretty sure he's going to regret calling me adorable or beautiful.

“So where are we going?” I ask, digging around in my purse for a hair-tie.
“It's a surprise,” Jay leans over and turns on the stereo. The sound of Frank Sinatra fills the truck.
I'm shocked, “You listen to Ol' Blue Eyes?”
“Yeah, my old man loved The Rat Pack. I grew up on it.”
I pull my hair back and start braiding the end.
“You're always surprising me, Jay,” I beam at him while I secure the braid with the hair-tie. “I

forgot to ask you last night how you knew what I drink.”

“I'm an observer. Anywhere I am I take in my surroundings. I remembered seeing your friend

order it for you without asking last time. I assumed that's what you drink.”

“You were watching me?”
“Not only you, everyone. It's what I do, it's automatic. Like right now I could tell the girl walking

her dog just popped a piece of Trident gum in her mouth from her pocket, or this douche up ahead is
distracted, talking on his phone so-” Jay stops talking to slam on his brakes and his arm comes out to
protect me from whipping forward. Jay honks and flips the guy off. He had completely run a red light
and would have hit us if Jay hadn't seen him coming. “I fucking hate cell phones. Worst invention
ever.”

“They come in handy.”
“When?” he scoffs.
“Car breaks down or something?”
“So learn how to take care of your fucking car.”
“You don't need to get snippy, I was only making an example. Don't you have one?” I point out,

remembering the one from last night.

“Fuck no, that one belongs to the bar. They make me carry it when I'm working in case I'm MIA

and they need backup. They're too easy to trace,” Jay's lips tighten at his remark, and I can tell he let
that last part slip out. I'm almost positive now Jay is running, but I haven't a clue from what. “How's
the job hunt going?” I know he's changing the subject and I let him; he wouldn't answer any of my
questions anyway.

“Lousy. Nobody seems to be hiring right now.”
“What'd you do before?”
“I worked for Will's dad, as his secretary. I quit the same day I left Will. If my job hadn't been

related to Will I would have stayed and not moved home.” Or maybe I would have. I'd needed to get
out of Phoenix and as far away from Will as I could, plus the roommate I had drove me crazy. Her
voice had reminded me of Minnie Mouse. Will didn't understand why I wouldn't move in with him.
That was the cause of the argument we had when he shoved me the first time. I didn't know how to tell
him I was afraid; it meant we were more committed to each other than I was ready for. It was one of
many warning signs I had ignored for reasons I still can't quite explain. Why be with a man you're
afraid to commit yourself to?

“What was your major?”
“Business Administration.”
“That's pretty generic.”
“I chose it for that reason. I had no idea what I wanted to do. Still don't. I only took the job Will's

dad offered me because it paid good, had a good retirement and health plan...” I sigh, “Can I be
honest with you?”

“I hope that's all you ever are.”
“I've always done what's expected because I have no clue what I want out of life. I went to

college because that's what you do after high school. I picked a major because I couldn’t graduate
without one. I got a good job because that's what you do after college,” I pause to chew on my lip.
“Quitting my job was freeing, and the sickest part of leaving Will was...god this is twisted. I shouldn't
even tell you,” I stop and stare out the window. I'm such a rambler I need to learn to keep my mouth
shut.

Jay reaches over and interlocks our fingers, “You won't get any judgment from me. I doubt its

more twisted than me.” He gives my hand a squeeze but doesn't let go.

I swivel so my body can face Jay and I lift my left leg up onto the middle seat, keeping his hand

in both of mine. “The twisted thing is I was glad to have an excuse to leave Will. Not that I'm glad he
hurt me, I just mean it gave me an out that nobody would judge me for. It's sick but I can't even tell you
why I stayed with him for so long. I'm not afraid to be alone, it's just everyone loved Will – everyone
but Stevie and Naomi, but I didn't find that out until after we broke up. Family and colleagues would
go on and on about how perfect he was and how lucky I was to be with him. I was only with him
because he was the kind of man – or so everyone thought – every girl should want to be with.

“That's what good girls like me do: we find hard working, handsome men, and spend the rest of

our lives in suburbia. We have our two point five kids, spend Saturdays mowing the lawn or picking
out appliances for our newly remodeled kitchen, and stress about things as stupid as what curtains to
buy for the living room, but to be honest, it all sounds so fucking boring I want to cry.”

“So get an apartment and have bare windows,” Jay teases, giving my hand another squeeze.
“Truthfully, I'm scared to find a job because then I'm stuck living a life that everyone says I

should want. I don't care about having new cars, a perfectly decorated house, or any of the other
things we are expected to desire. I just don't see the point of working forty plus hours a week so I can
have things I don't even want.”

“What do you want?”
I sigh deeply, “That's always been a problem for me. I haven’t a clue. I've never known what I've

wanted out of life. I'm envious of my friends and family; they all know exactly who they are and what
they want. Even my younger brothers know. They want to be professional skateboarders, and even if
it never happens at least they have a clue – I'm sorry, I ramble too much. I just feel like there's so
much more to life but I can't figure out how to find it.”

“You go searching for it.”
“How?”
“What excites you? What brings a smile to your face?”
“You,” I blurt out unintentionally.
I'm relieved when he grins, “Is that it?”
“I like shooting stuff.”
Jay starts choking and lets go of my hand to pound his chest while he clears his throat.
“You okay?”
“Fine, you just took me by surprise,” he has some trouble getting the words out while he's still

trying to clear his throat. He places his hand back in my lap and I smile. “Want to expand on that for
me, babe?”

“I go to the shooting range about once a week, or I used to. It's been almost two months since the

last time I went. I usually spend hours there shooting targets and stuff.”

“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I love it.”
“Monday, we go. I have to see this.” He can't keep a straight face so I pinch him. Hard.
He snatches his hand away, “Ow! What the hell was that for?”
“You think I'm totally going to suck! That I’m just some cutesy little girl that probably hits

everywhere but her target. I wanted to hit you, but I knew it would hurt me more than you so I pinched
you instead.”

“What kind of gun do you use?”
Pouting, I shake my head and stubbornly cross my arms, “No way, I'm not telling you any more.

You'll only laugh at me.”

“Why, is it a .22?”
“Ha ha. Not funny. Alright, game on. We go on Monday. Then we'll see who laughs.”
He smiles wickedly at me and I know he's laughing on the inside, so I twist his nipple as hard as

I can.

“OW!!” He cries, rubbing circles over it through his shirt, “Stop pinching me.”
“Stop laughing at me.”
“I'm sorry but I keep picturing you with a gun and it makes me laugh. I'm going to have to

remember a camera.” I pinch him in the same spot. “Aahh! Stop!”

“You laugh, I pinch.”
“Fine, lets change the subject.” His face turns serious and I grow weary from it, “Do you think

maybe you can't figure out what you want because you're staying inside your box? You were raised to
think a certain way, but that doesn't mean you can't find your own path. Life doesn't have to be so
black and white.”

I know he's right, but it still goes back to not having a clue where to start, “What do you want out

of life?”

Jay shrugs, “Nothing worth talking about.”
“But you do know what you want, right?”
He takes a peek at me out of the corner of his eye, “I thought I did.”
“How did you figure it out?”
He frowns, “I didn't. Life figured it out for me.”
“That's very cryptic and doesn't make much sense to me. I'm not trying to pry, I'm only curious

because you seem to know exactly what path you're headed down.”

“Yeah, I do know.” His voice has become pensive and grave, “I've been headed down the same

path since I was eight.”

I look down at my hands holding his and my thumb starts rubbing circles on it. “I'm afraid...” I'm

nervous to keep going, but I know Jay won't judge me and I need to say my worst fear out loud with
someone. I continue to watch my thumb stroking his hand as I begin to tell him what I've been thinking
for the past few weeks, “I'm afraid that the only reason I let him take control over my life is because it
was easier than figuring it out for myself. That terrifies me. That's not the kind of person I want to be.”

“Baby, look at me,” he nudges me with his arm and I raise my head. He shifts from watching the

road to looking at me, “You aren't that person. He took advantage of the kind of person you are and
used it against you. What happened doesn't make you a weak person. If anything, it makes you stronger
than most. Don't do that,” he nudges me again when I shake my head and look back at our hands.
“Don't dismiss what I said because you don't think it's true. You had the strength to walk away. You
need to give yourself credit for that instead of degrading yourself over what he did to you.”

Jay puts on his blinker and turns into the old raceway that hasn't been used since they built a

bigger one over a decade ago.

“What are we doing here?”
“You'll see.”
We drive up near the track and I see two rows of cars with their hoods open, facing each other,

probably ten cars on each side. These aren't just any cars, they're racing cars (or so they appear. I
know absolutely nothing about cars.)

Jay parks a few rows back in the small, empty parking lot. He tosses his sunglasses on the

dashboard and comes around to help me out. He opens my door and offers me his hand, but I'm still
staring out the window taking it all in and wondering what we're doing here.

“Come on, Lily,” Jay's voice snaps me out of it. I take his hand and he helps me down, but not in

the way he usually does. Once I'm at the step to come down he takes hold of my hips and pulls me to
him. Then he wraps an arm around me and places a firm hand between my shoulder blades. There's a
fire in his eyes I haven't seen before.

He buries his head in my neck and I naturally move my arms around his, “I find it amusing that

you always smell like a fucking flower.” He gently brushes his lips along my skin and I feel the very
tip of his tongue glide with them, “Girls like you shouldn't smell this good. It's not right. How am I
supposed to stay strong and not let anything happen?”

I tilt back, “Why don't you want anything to happen?”
“I'm leaving.”
“So?”
“Yo, Jay!” A man shouts from over by the cars, “You joining in on the first race?”
“Yeah!” He shouts back over his shoulder. He gently sets me down but keeps my hand in his. As

we get closer I take in the people and the girls...who are wearing next to nothing, hair sexed up, lips
plastered in gloss. I feel unbelievably self-conscious.

I stop and tug Jay back to me.
He loops his finger through my jeans and steps into me.
“I feel out of place. Couldn't you have warned me to dress a little different, maybe given me time

to put on makeup?”

A sexy side smile forms as he peers down at my chest, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
I nod in the direction of the cars and people, then use my hand to gesture down at my clothes.
Keeping his sexy side smile he shakes his head and rolls his eyes, “Who gives a shit.” He gives

me a slight teasing lift of his eyebrows before bringing them down, “You're wearing a fucking Nine
Inch Nails tee. The fact that you listen to them...wow, baby,” he shakes his head and swipes it. “Then
I'm forced to watch...” his eyes dart to my chest, earning another sexy grin before he makes eye
contact with me, “you have no fucking clue how sexy you are.”

He places a hand behind my head and firmly plants his lips on mine for half a second before

letting go, but it's enough to make me lightheaded and wanting more.

Wow, he has scrumptious, sexy lips.
He takes hold of my hand once again and we make our way over to the cars. Everyone starts

greeting Jay by name and he somewhat smiles back at them.

I’m overwhelmed by the cars. I feel like I stepped inside a Fast and the Furious movie.
Someone calls Jay over and we meet them at their car. I'm not really a car person but this one is

hot. I know it has to be a mustang by the black horse running along the driver's side of the car. The
horse's tail turns into flames of orange and yellow that carries around and takes up the entire back
side. The rest of the car is red.

“Check out my new rear spoiler, you ready to get roasted?” The guy who called us over asks,

admiring his own car with worshipping lust.

Jay checks it out, never letting go of my hand. “Not bad. Won't make a difference. How many

times do I have to tell you, Hector? It's all about the driver when you drift.”

Drift?
Hector checks me out from top to bottom, stopping at my chest where my nipples have hardened

from the breeze and are poking through.

“This your girl?”
Jay wraps his arm possessively around my shoulder, “Yeah, so keep your eyes focused on your

car and not her tits or we have problems. Got it?”

Hector puts up both hands in surrender, “I was only admiring the real estate. Maybe, when I win,

you'd let me take her for an hour?”

Is this conversation seriously happening right now?
The atmosphere changes in a way only Jay can produce and he growls, “Nobody touches her.

Nobody.”

Hector takes a step back.
Smart man.
“I'm just messin wit'chu, Jay. Okay, amigo?”
Jay doesn’t respond and he has me by my hand, dragging me behind him to the end. He stops at

the last car.

A man's standing there, leaning against a black car. I have to blink twice, he could be Will

Smith's duplicate. I finally found someone's doppelganger! I can't wait to tell Naomi and Stevie – it's
on our friendship bucket list, as is meeting the actual Will Smith. Ironic.

He nods at me, “Who's your girl, Jay?”
“Malik, this is Lily. She's come to watch. When I'm out there I'm counting on you to keep away

any takers.

“You don't even have to ask.”
“She’s important to me, so I need to make it clear.”
“I imagine she'd have to be,” Malik aims his attention on me, “I'm Malik. You're the only person

Jay's brought around. I’m guessing that makes you pretty special.”

I extend my hand, “Nice to meet you.”
Malik laughs and I love the sound. He's one of those people you instantly take a liking to. He

accepts my hand, grinning while he shakes it, “She's so dainty and cute Jay, what's she doing with
you?”

“Not sure, but I'm not gonna question it.”
“You've always been a smart one.” Malik turns to me and waves to the racetrack, “Jay tell you

about how it goes down today?”

“No, he's told me nothing.”
Malik gives me one of the most friendly smiles I have ever seen, “That sounds like my boy. Have

you ever heard of Drifting?”

“Drift, like that one Fast and Furious movie?”
Jay kisses my forehead, “Kinda, but we know what we're doing. We're true drifters. It's more

about the driver, less about the car.”

I look around, “Then explain all of those.” I point to all the cars that are obviously made to

impress.

Jay laughs his deep barrel laugh and leans down to my ear, “And that's why they lose.” He points

to the car behind Malik, “That's what I drive.” It's definitely been used and abused. The black paint is
scratched and dented on all sides. It's by far the least impressive car here, and the ugliest. I do
recognize the Nissan symbol on the front of the car for whatever that's worth. “Nothing special, but
baby, I own the road when I drift,” his voice has turned sexual and husky and I just about go weak in
the knees.

Malik starts telling Jay about the new tires he put on and I tune them out as I take in the track.
The track seems to have a mixture of straightaways and turns. Based on pure judgment I'd guess it

went around for a little over a mile. I walk closer so I can count the turns. The only thing I know about

drifting is what I have seen in the movies, and turns seem to be the main focus. I use my finger to point
to each bend and curve counting as I go along.

Jay comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my center.
“What are you doing?” He snickers, kissing the top of my head.
“Counting the turns,” I respond back, as though I have a clue what I'm talking about.
Jay ruffles my hair and chuckles, “Well, okay.”
He walks back over to Malik and they resume talking.
I'm glad he didn't ask me why because I wouldn't have an answer for him, but I had counted ten.

I'm getting excited. I've never seen a live race before; this should be fun.

Someone in the group calls out that the first race starts in five minutes.
I notice Jay getting into the car and I jog over to him.
I jump up to wrap my arms around his neck and give him a quick kiss on the lips, “Good luck.”
His head ticks back and he gives me a cocky grin, “Don't need it, but I wouldn't mind more of

those later.” His lips meet mine one more time and I drop to the ground. Jay gets in the car and Malik
leads me to the guardrails.

Malik moves his arm around me and rests it on my shoulder. I stiffen in response and he laughs.
“Relax. Jay asked me to do this. I'm staking claim so no other guy will approach you.”
“Staking claim?” I raise an eyebrow at him, not sure if I like him using that term.
He laughs again and moves to my other side where everyone else is. His arm is now hitting mine

but not directly on me.

“Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“No problem.”
Three cars line up: Jay's, Hector's, and some other car that is also a Nissan but slightly different

looking. The paint job looks like Spiderman threw up on it. It starts off red but turns to blue as it nears
the end. A huge black spider takes over the hood, and the rest of the car has a black web covering it,
making the spider look like it's chillin', ready for the ride.

I'm so preoccupied with the details of the Spiderman car that I don't register the race has started

until they speed past me.

“What kind of car is Jay driving?” I ask Malik, frowning because Jay is behind the other two.
“Nissan 240SX.”
“Cool,” I reply, bobbing my head forward like I have a clue if that's good or not.
I'm way out of my element here.
“Watch this,” Malik smirks, eyes glued to the race.
The cars are racing full speed towards the first turn.
“What the hell!” I cry, digging my nails into Milik's bicep, “Why aren't they slowing down?!”
The two cars ahead of Jay look like they're losing the back end of the car and I dig tighter into his

arm. The front of their cars ride the rail, leaving a cloud of smoke behind and I can barely see Jay's
car, who is right behind them.

“He's going to crash right into them!” I bury my face into Malik.
“No he's not.” He nudges me, “Watch. You don't want to miss this.”
Jay's car goes above the other two on the bank of the track, his front riding their backs and his

back riding the rail, centimeters from touching it as he passes them. The cars straighten. The other two
wobble, but Jay transitions smoothly and he's now in front as they head down a straightaway.

“Holy moly, that was awesome!” I cry, letting go of Malik's arm and jumping with excitement.

“Jay only rode the bank how you're supposed to when you drift. The other two are still learning.”
“Jay's car barely had any smoke when he made the turn, but the others had tons. Why?”
“Jay's not trying to impress anyone. He knows how to move with the road. He's calculated when

he drives and instinctively knows how fast and hard to take it.” I bet he does.

Malik starts laughing hysterically and I turn bright red, realizing I said that last thought out loud.
During the next bend Malik nudges me again.
“See Spidey?” I nod. “He's prematurely downshifting, thinking he can take the corner in tighter,

hoping to exit it with greater speed to get ahead. He's going to damage his engine if he keeps that up. I
don't understand why people put money into a car if they aren't going to learn about what they're
doing. He should stick to street racing, which he's a badass at.”

I watch Jay's car move with ease, as if drifting is effortless and anybody can do it.
Hector's car is close behind him, but he doesn’t have the same effortless ease as Jay's car seems

to have. Both cars drift sideways and Hector is inches from Jay. As the cars straighten out, I cling to
Malik again because it looks like Hector is going to hit the end of Jay's car.

He misses it by centimeters and I let out a huge sigh of relief. This shit is intense!
I can't stop smiling. I'm unbelievably impressed by what I am watching and oddly turned on by it,

knowing Jay's the lead car as he maneuvers through the last bank as smoothly as one makes a left turn.
He finishes the race with Hector close behind.

Jay gets out of the car and I run to him, throwing myself on him, letting my legs wrap around his

waist. I pull his head to me and I kiss him. The instant our lips touch electricity sparks and neither one
of us can hold back. Our tongues lace together and we both groan. Jay has his hand on my ass and the
other clutching tightly to my head, not letting me go anywhere. His scruff scratches my skin but I love
it. No one has ever kissed me like this before, like nothing matters more than being in this moment,
kissing me.

Our lips finally part and we rest our foreheads together. Jay has tangled his hand in my hair at the

nape of my neck.

“Wow,” I breathe out.
“Damn, Lily. How am I going to stop myself from doing that again? Your lips are incredible.”
I wrap my arms tighter around his neck and let the force of my lips and tongue let him know I

have no intention of letting him stop this, stop us. He doesn't put up a fight and returns my kiss with an
assertiveness that makes me feel like he's claiming me. He gives my ass a tight squeeze and our kiss
gets deeper and rougher. I have never lost myself in a kiss before, but this one has me unaware of
anything else but the two of us. I want him right here, right now, and I don't care who's watching. Jay
takes a few steps back so his backside's supporting us against his car, and the hand pulling in my hair
slides down so he's cupping the back of my neck and the side of my face. My arms release around his
neck and my hands take hold of the sides of his face. The kiss goes from hungry-lust to something
deeper. We both seem to be trying to communicate our longing for the other that we've been holding
back on in this one kiss.

I faintly become aware of the cheers and vulgar comments.
“Yo, Jay! Unless you're planning on taking her over the hood of my car, I'd put a stop to your

little show,” Malik's standing close enough that it's hard not to be aware of him.

Our mouths break apart and we lock eyes, letting our heavy breathing sink into rhythm.
“That was some first kiss,” Jay pants, breathless, giving me a crooked grin.
I hear the shouts and boos of disapproval that we've stopped and that's when I become

embarrassed. Not when I launched myself at him, not when I assaulted him with my mouth. No, I get

embarrassed after I finish attacking him. Couldn't that have happened before we basically had sex
with our mouths? Just thinking of the kiss makes me flush all over.

“Babe, you've got to let go of my waist.”
I turn bright red and unhook my legs from around Jay's waist. He grins down at me, looking

highly amused.

“Enjoy the race?”
I smirk, “It was alright.”
Jay lightly bumps my hips, “Get in the passengers seat. I'm going take you on your first drift

ride.”

“What about the next race?”
“Yo, Creed!” Jay hollers to a group a few feet away. “I'm going for a run. Keep it clear.” The

last sentence was in a typical threatening manner and it makes me internally laugh.

“You got it man. You staying for the last race?”
Jay looks down at me before answering, “Maybe, not sure.”
He opens the passenger door for me before getting into the driver's seat.
“Where did you learn to do that?” I gush out, voice full of admiration and pride.
“By accident. Then I found out what I did was a real thing and I've been hooked ever since.”
“I'm assuming that I'm not allowed to hear how it happened by accident?”
“Yup.”
I'm too happy to get upset over another vague answer and I let it go this time.
The car takes off and I become absorbed in watching Jay. He looks carefree and happy. I wish

we never had to leave this track and I could always see him looking this way.

“Here we go!” Jay shouts wickedly as we take the first turn at an unbelievably fast speed. An “oh

shit” tumbles out of my mouth. I grab the top assist handle and reach my hand across me to hold on to
the door as we move around a curve at a speed I'm sure is going to kill us. I start to close my eyes.

“Keep them open, it's more of a thrill.”
“Don't look at me! Are you crazy! Watch the road!”
Jay finds my hysterics hilarious and if I didn't have a death grip on the handles I'd pinch him.
We come out of the bank alive and my heart is pounding at a speed NASCAR would envy.
“Fuck!” I cry, “That's intense!”
Jay laughs.
As we approach a right corner I watch him countersteer by turning the steering wheel to the left.
“What are you doing?!”
“Relax, baby, this is how you drift. It keeps the car from spinning out.”
I knuckle the handles even harder, knowing what to expect this time. I watch Jay's hands go back

and forth from the wheel to the stick, his feet at a constant state of movement working the gas and
clutch. I haven't once seen him use the brake, which impresses me even more.

The rest of the track my fear disappears and I have a blast. Before he stops the car he spins us

around in circles, causing me to scream out in delight.

Jay kills the engine and I beam at him.
“That was amazing! You're amazing! You blow me away, Jay!”
He gives me a shy grin that makes me fall even harder for him.
That was a kind of rush I didn't know existed. As I get out I'm in a weird adrenaline-rush daze. I

am forever changed.

Jay strolls over to me and wraps his arms around me, tucking his hands into my back pockets.

The same fire from the truck is back in his eyes and this time it arouses an intense hunger deep inside
me, a hunger for Jay, a hunger for sex so intense I ache. I've never ached down there before; it leaves
me frustrated and needing Jay in a way I've never needed a man before.

“Stop looking at me like that, Lily. That's a dangerous look to give a man.”
“Take me home, Jay.” He knew what I meant from the expression on my face and the tone of my

voice because he sucks in his breath, takes a hand in his, and moves full speed to his truck with me
barely able to keep up.

Jay opens my side, thrusts me in, and slams the door. By the time he gets into the driver's seat I

can't take it any more and I pounce on him. I throw a leg over to straddle him and we resume our
ravenous kiss from before, but this time our hands move everywhere at a frantic pace like they can't
decide what to feel or where to touch. My hips have a mind of their own and they rub against the hard
bulge in his pants. Jay's lips began to suck and bite my neck as a hand slides under my shirt. His huge
hand completely consumes my bare breast, and his rough calloused fingers pinch and tug my nipple.
The roughness of Jay's fingers is erotic. It causes my head to roll back and a low, deep moan to come
out. Jay moves his other hand up the front of my stomach and my arousal clenches in anticipation for
him to touch my other breast. My back arches and I lift my shirt up to rest on my chest. He kisses my
belly and my hips keep lightly grinding and working him all on their own. When he takes a nipple in
his mouth a noise escapes my mouth I've never heard before. It's a cross between a whimper and an
animal-like groan.

Jay brings a hand around my back and forces it to straighten up before going down to my jeans to

unzip the front. His hand slides right under my panties and touches the part of me that's ready to
explode with my need for him. His fingers stroke and rub expertly and my hips continue to work as if
they have a mind of their own. A finger slides inside me and I almost lose it. Another whimper
escapes from the back of my throat.

Jay moans loudly and his head falls back on the headrest, “Fuck you're tight.”
Jay tries inserting another finger and I stiffen in pain, causing his arm to tense and halt all

movement. His head shoots up and his eyes are big and frightened.

“Are you a virgin?” His eyes search mine and my stomach drops, “No, wait, you told me that

shithead forced himself in you.”

Then he studies me in a way only Jay can – like he can read my mind or see my thoughts. His

hands are off my body in a nanosecond and they cover his face as he leans back on the headrest. “Was
that your first time?”

“Yes,” I whisper, pulling my shirt down.
“Fuck,” Jay mumbles into his hands. We stay like this for some time while I watch his over-

excited breathing normalize.

Will had had enough waiting, and when he got his promotion – from his dad's firm so it was

expected – he thought that I owed him a congratulations present and it should come in the form of my
virginity. When I told him I still wasn't ready he took it from me anyway, against my will. He took it
despite my cries of protest, despite the tears that flooded down faster than Niagara Falls, despite the
fact that it was more than my virginity he was taking – he took the only part left of me he didn't
control. Afterward he had told me I was a tease who deserved it for stringing him along for so long;
that no man was that patient and I'm lucky he was so good to me and hadn't done it sooner.

Jay lifts his head and takes my face between his hands, forcing me to look at him, “You've had

sex one time and it was rape.”

“I wouldn't really call it rape.”

“Did you want to?”
“No,” I answer, my throat tightening up.
“Did he force you?”
I nod yes because my throat's so tight it hurts and I'm trying to stop my eyes from tearing up.
“Then it was fucking rape. Christ, Lily!” I jump and I thought he was mad at me for how fiercely

he yelled and is rubbing his facial scars. “I'm such a dick. Here I am mauling you, first time we kiss
and I’m already in your pants. Shit,” he buries his head in my stomach and wraps his arms around me,
“I'm so sorry, Lily.”

“If I remember correctly I attacked you, twice. I wanted you, I wanted what you were doing to

me. God I wanted it.”

He shakes his head on my belly before looking up, “We can't do this. You deserve your next time

to be with someone you love, who's going to be here for you.”

I kiss him and he's hesitant at first but then responds back. “But I want you,” I say against his lips.
“You deserve more than a few fucks from me. I'm leaving soon.”
“I know,“ I snap. “You remind me every hour.”
He lifts me up and moves me onto the passengers seat. He starts the engine and begins the drive

home, “I told myself not to fucking touch you. Your innocence comes off you like a damn perfume.”

I sit there with my arms hugging myself, feeling rejected and a little like a fool for letting my

emotions overrule responsible thoughts earlier. I'm also pissed at myself for once again letting myself
care too much about Jay when clearly I'm...what? What am I to him?

“You confuse me,” I say softly, staring out my window. “Your kisses confuse me, your mood

swings confuse me, our friendship confuses me – if you can even call it that. Friends don't kiss like
we do. In fact, I’m thinking most people will go through life never knowing a kiss like that, which is a
damn shame.” My voice gradually gets higher as anger starts to build. Why do I let Jay get under my
skin so much?

“You confuse me too,” Jay reaches over for my hand, “I told you my life has been solitary. It

confuses me that having you sleep in my bed has turned into almost a need. That's confusing as hell to
me. I don't want to push you away, but I can't let us become something we will never be. And yeah,
the way we kiss is...there's not even a word for it. I had no idea kissing could feel so...” he sighs at a
loss for words and I know exactly what he means. It's like our lips were made to kiss each other.

“I know you're leaving soon, but I don't understand why you don't want anything to happen?”
“You're the kind of girl a guy knows he'll fall hard for if he lets you in and be in it for life.”
“You're afraid of falling for me?”
“It's going to be hard enough to leave you, adding intimacy between us will only make it worse.”
I don't know what to say, so I don't say anything. Instead, I unbuckle and move to the middle seat.

I re-buckle, rest my head on his shoulder, and kiss the hand I'm still holding. We drive the rest of the
way home in silence.

When we arrive home I go to my place and he goes to his, but he hands me his key, which I'm

assuming means he wants me over when he gets off.

Chapter 11

Sunday, January 12
3:46am

I roll over to reach for Jay but feel cool cotton instead. I blindly reach for my phone on his

nightstand to find it's a half-hour past the time he gets home.

Half asleep, I roll out of bed and trudge down the hall to find the living room and kitchen pitch

black. I look out the living room window to see his truck in the driveway.

He's probably in the garage.
I sleepily rub my eyes and start towards the hall but stop when movement in the backyard catches

my attention.

I walk over and stare out the back, which is open. Jay's standing out in the middle of his backyard

with flannel pajama bottoms on and shirtless. The only light is the moon and it casts just enough of a
glow that I can make out his perfectly sculpted body. I soak him in and the beautiful fluid movements
his body is making as it moves gracefully and slow. I recognize it as Tai Chi, but I’ve never seen
someone do it in person. Jay looks like he's not present, that his mind has gone somewhere else. It's
breathtaking to watch. Once again I'm mesmerized by him and his many talents.

He doesn’t seem to register I'm here and then I see his face shift ever so slightly. He moves an

arm out and gestures for me to come over. I nervously join him. I'm not sure if he's upset or not
because it's too dark to see his features.

Once we are closer I can fully see his face. It's devoid of any emotion and I try not to panic.
The back of Jay's hand lightly brushes my cheek. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting a

peace wash over me. His hands take hold of my shoulders and turn me around, making my back face
him. He has me do the movements with him, guiding my body as we go along. I'm completely lost in
the moment. It's beautiful, sensual, and I have never felt more connected to anyone as I do right now.
It's powerful, a little scary, and oddly makes me feel like I could cry. Not happy or sad tears, it's
something deeper. Maybe this is what happens when two souls connect and become one.

He moves us and we are back to standing position but our hands remain together. One of his

hands slowly starts to trail up my arm. It moves my hair then goes around my waist under my shirt,
letting his thumb draw circles around my bellybutton. I first feel the tickle of his scruff, and then the
softness of his lips as he presses them down on the curve of my neck. His lips don't go any further and
he takes long, deep breaths, taking me in.

My head falls back and rests against him. I want to remember everything about this moment: the

way it feels to be with him, the moonlight, the warm masculine scent of him, but mostly the deep
peace I feel.

I turn to face him and it's the first time I’ve been able to see the markings and scars covering his

skin. My throat tightens up at the sight of them. The first one I touch is a long one that trails over his
stomach at an angle. It starts under his left pec and travels diagonally to almost his hip bone. I kiss the
starting point up top. I look up at Jay through hooded lashes and his face doesn't look bothered by
what I'm doing, but there's something in his eyes shining at me I can't place. I let my hands feel the
hard ridges of his abs, taking note of the small scars that you can hardly feel. My hands tremble a bit
from being able to touch him like this. They travel up and feel his chest. I kiss each pec and any scars

that are there. Next, I touch a scar caused by a bullet (I've seen them at the shooting range on men who
proudly display them) on his right shoulder where it meets the collar bone. I kiss that as well.

I move around his body and see two more bullet wounds on his back. Tears threaten to spill

over. Then I see the scars that crisscross his back as though a whip was taken to him and my throat
closes and aches from the intense pressure on my heart. My cheek flattens on his back and I wrap my
arms around him as best as I can, letting the tears finally drop down.

Jay twists his front and he lifts my chin up.
“It's okay,” his voice is low and soothing. “They don't bother me.” He rubs the bullet wound in

front, “This is actually from one of the best memories I have with my dad, and some of the others are
also reminders of some kick ass days. Some are bad memories, but reminders that nobody can break
me.” He's grinning and I'm more confused than ever.

“I don't understand. Seeing all these scars has broken my heart,” I can hardly speak from the tight

constriction of my throat, holding back a complete meltdown. I wipe my face, clearing away some of
the tears streaming down. I have so much more I want to tell him but I can't seem to get it out. I decide
to communicate in the only way I can right now. On tiptoe, I wrap my arms around his neck and bring
my mouth to his.

This kiss is nothing like at the track: it's slow, soft, and sensual, but just as desire filled. Jay lifts

me up and I wrap my legs around him. He walks us back inside, locking the slider behind us. We stay
like this – lips moving perfectly together – as he takes us to his bedroom.

He sets me down and lays next to me on his side. Our eyes lock and we stare deep inside each

others' irises. Jay smiles, taking my breath away at how gorgeous he is when he lets his guard down.
His lips are back on mine as our hands explore each other. I feel every hard bulge, every ridge of his
muscles, savoring it.

Jay kisses along my jaw and brings his lips to my ear, “Can we make tonight about you?”
“I don't know what you mean.”
“Let me worship your body, I want tonight to be about giving you immense pleasure,” the warmth

of his breath, his husky wanting voice laced with the scent of him, has me feeling drug-induced.

“Why?” I barely register that I spoke.
He nuzzles under my ear, “It's the only way I can think of to communicate how I feel about you.”
His lips and tongue move along my neck and his hands go to remove my shirt. He supports me as

I help him lift it over my head.

He hovers over me on all fours and drinks me in, “God, Lily, you're perfect.”
Jay lowers himself as his mouth and hands begin worshiping every part of my body, and I'm lost

in the moment. There is not a part of my body that goes untouched. His body is pressed over me but I
can barely feel it from the way he carries his weight. At this moment I fully surrender to him, and in
return he is safeguarding me as though he will never find a treasure of more worth. I've never felt so
cherished before, and that earlier feeling of our souls connecting has me wanting to cry again.

When his hands and lips reach my inner thighs and work their way up, I clutch the sheets from the

intense pleasure flowing through my whole body. He gently widens my legs and the hot warmth of his
breath has me whimpering. His tongue starts in like it's savoring every moment, every taste. I'm
overwhelmed with the heights he is taking my body. His tongue and lips stop their licking and sucking
to kiss where his tongue was. The pure tenderness of it has me releasing with so much intensity tears
fall down.

I'm completely overwhelmed as I cry from the beauty of having an orgasm I never knew existed,

from the way he cherished my body and made me feel.

I wrap an arm over my eyes to hide, not wanting Jay to see me freaking out over an orgasm. In an

instant he's on his side next to me and he wraps as much of himself over me as is possible.

“What's wrong?” He forces my arm away and his brows are knitted in concern as he wipes away

my tears.

“This is really embarrassing,” I turn mortified and bury my face into him.
He holds me tightly and plays with my hair, “Talk to me.”
“I've never had intimacy like that before. I didn’t know so much pleasure could be found at the

hands of another person. Will never...” I pause and breathe in deeply, “It was always about him. He
would sit or lie there expecting me to bring him all the pleasure. He would never touch me except to
occasionally suck or play with my breasts, but it was because he wanted to; it was never about me. I
just...I never knew it could be like this. I don't think I've really had an orgasm before now. I can't
believe I'm crying over this.”

Jay pushes me back and I try to pull him back to me but he won't let me. His hands take hold of

my face and he kisses me fully and deeply, causing more tears to spill down. I feel ridiculous, but Jay
takes care of me in ways I didn't know I needed and it breaks something free in me, something I've
buried deep within: Me.

Jay has me flip over so he can cocoon me in his arms. We don't talk, he just holds me while I cry,

letting the woman I let Will bury come up for air.

Chapter 12

10:23am

I'm still encased in Jay's arms when I wake and I kiss the arm that has me from under my neck. I

feel lighter, freer. I feel like me again and an ear to ear smile breaks out across my face. I know it
didn't solely happen from last night, it was just the final release I needed to connect with myself.

Jay's arms tighten around me, “Hey.” His voice is gritty from sleep and he kisses my hair, “What

are your plans for today?”

“I think I owe you a pumpkin pie,” I turn my head to see him and he's grinning at me.
“Can I help?”
“Yeah, we can do it here.”
Jay beams at me, “Can we stay in what we're wearing?”
“Sure.” His smile gets huge and I realize I’m still completely naked from last night and I laugh.

“Smooth.”

“Is that a yes?”
I laugh harder at his hopefulness.
“No,” I reply, and his face drops. “But I'll wear one of your shirts and nothing else if you keep

your shirt off so I can admire it's beauty.”

Jay perks up again and laughs, “Deal.”
We begin kissing, getting tangled in each other.

11:02am

“Stop, you're going to make me spill the coffee,” I giggle as Jay has his arms wrapped around me

and is trying to reach under my shirt while I pour coffee in our mugs.

He has the shirt lifted and cups my breasts in his hands, “I think I'll follow you around all day

like this.”

I swat at his hand, laughing, “How is that helping me?”
“Oh, it's not, but it sure would be fun,” Jay starts kissing my neck and I tilt it to allow better

access.

We'd made out in his bed this morning and his fingers skillfully brought me to another mind-

blowing orgasm, but he wouldn't allow me to do anything in return. For a brief moment I had my hand
down his pants and almost fainted at it's size – it should be noted that everything on Jay is huge – but
he stopped me before I had the chance to stroke it.

“Are you afraid of letting me give you pleasure after what I told you last night?” I ask, pouring

cream into our mugs.

“No, that's the last part of myself I haven't given to you, and I know if I do...” he sighs and buries

his face into my neck. “Can we enjoy the afternoon and not think about anything other than the fact
we're baking a pie together?”

“Definitely.”

2:16pm

I bend over and put the pie in the oven.
“Wait, stop,” Jay says as I start to rise.
“What?” I remain still, wondering what's going on.
“I need a really good mental picture of this moment.”
I look over my shoulder at Jay leaning over the island, tongue slightly hanging out of the side of

his mouth as he stares at my naked ass that is exposed from bending over at the oven.

He looks young and carefree, making my heart swell in happiness.
Baking a pie with Jay is a memory I will always hold on tight to. As we made dough he would

stop to give me sweet kisses on my lips, nose, forehead, shoulder, or neck – whatever was the closest
to reach. He had me show him how to roll the dough out, but I think he just wanted an excuse to wrap
his arms around me because every time his arms brushed past my breasts I could feel him smile
against my hair.

He asked me a lot of questions about my childhood, my family, things I loved, things I didn't; he

seemed to want to know everything about me. I found out his favorite movie genre is comedy, which
surprised me (I thought it would be action), and he made me laugh when he told me his favorite movie
of all time is The Princess Bride. He laughed at me when he found out I'm a closet country music fan.

I told him about how I've always dreamed of going to London, and he told me about the two

months he spent living there when he was fourteen and the places I would have to visit because he
knew I would love them. He started to say he couldn't wait to take me someplace but never got out
where. His eyes had turned sad, he cursed and started doing dishes, making me tell him any horror
high school stories I had. Thankfully, I didn't really have any. I was neither popular nor uncool. I'd
usually spent time with the drama club, which Stevie and Naomi had also belonged to. I told him I
had really been into acting and starred in a few plays my high school had put on. He made me swear
to show him my mom's tapes of the plays I was in. He loved hearing my stories of Naomi, who was
always the student director, and how hard she would ride me and the crazy costumes Stevie would
put together to try and make a “boring old play” unique and fresh.

Jay wanted to know about my first boyfriend, Matt (my only boyfriend besides Will). We dated

from tenth through eleventh grade, then broke up when he left for college (he was a year ahead of me).
Jay laughed at how innocent our relationship was; the furthest we had ever gotten was making out. He
thought it was odd and laughed hysterically that a few years later I found out Matt was gay. Looking
back, it made sense with how he acted around the drama club boys. Every week he came over to
watch One Tree Hill and we would gossip about what happened. He never cared to go under my shirt
to touch my breasts, even though I had offered. I had assumed he wasn't ready to be that intimate. That
made Jay laugh even harder, that I would think a seventeen year old would want to hold off on
touching a girl's breasts because it was too fast for him. I had to laugh too. I guess I've always been
pretty naïve.

“Okay, my turn,” I close the oven door and rest against the counter.
“For what?” Jay wiggles his brows suggestively and I roll my eyes.
“Tell me about your Dad,” I dive right in while I scrape the edge of the pie filling bowl with my

finger and savor the taste in my mouth. Unease crosses over Jay's face, “Oh, right. For a minute I
forgot who I was talking to and thought I could carry on a normal conversation with my boyfri–” I
snap my lips shut, curling them in, and reddening in embarrassment.

Jay shifts uncomfortably on the bar stool, scratching his scruff.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean we were-” Jay holds up his hand to stop me.
“Stop. You know I hate it when you apologize to me.” He brings his hands on top of his head and

studies my face, chewing on his lip. He sighs and bends over so he's resting on the counter with his
forearms, “My mom died when I was six, so my dad raised me. He was a loner like me, preferring his
own company to others. The only words we exchanged were him quizzing me on school and the other
stuff he taught me. Most of the time I was left alone.

“The first few years I was with him he didn't really know what to do with me,” Jay chuckles and

shakes his head. His eyes start to glaze over, lost in thought, “He bonded with me in the only ways he
knew how. His methods were unconventional – let's leave it at that. He never wanted his life for me,
never wanted to deal with being somebody's father, but he did the best he could. He never made me
feel like I was holding him back or getting in his way. From day one he treated me like an equal. I
never got hugs or kisses or affection like most kids, but he was good to me and helped me harness the
anger I felt after my mother's death. Without his help I would probably be dead, or maybe a crack
addict, from not being able to handle the shit that happened to me.” I desperately want to know more
about the things that happened to him, but I know Jay won't tell me.

“You've never mentioned, but he's gone too?”
“Yeah, five years ago.”
“Was he the only family you had?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you remember your mom?”
“Not really. I remember her singing to me before she tucked me in at night, and she made the best

macaroni and cheese from scratch.” He shakes his head, “Man, it was good. I remember how excited
she got when she knew my dad was in town and visiting. We always got fresh haircuts, and she'd
scrub the house and buy us new outfits to wear. She'd be so happy. I loved seeing her that way, and I
remember how my dad always looked happy to see her too.” Jay stops and buries his head in his
hands, “I never thought about it before. My dad never really smiled, but he did with my mom; he
would light up around her. I can't believe I forgot that. When he would leave I hated to see how sad
my mom looked. When she died, my dad came and got me to live with him. He didn't talk for months,
barely said more than a word or two a day. I never understood,” he lifts his head to stare off. “I think
he was grieving,” he whispers the last sentence as if he's grieving as well.

I have no words to express to him how much it means to me that he shared a part of his life with

me or how sorry I am he lost them both, because it's evident in the way he speaks of them he loved
them both immensely. I come around the island and climb on his lap. I straddle him and wrap my arms
tightly around his neck, hoping to convey what words can't.

Jay buries his face into the crevice of my neck and clings to me. We hold each other until the

timer for the pie goes off.

He lifts me up to sit on the island and he lays his head on my chest. I run my fingers across his

hair.

The timer buzzes again and Jay lets out a deep, heavy sigh. He releases me and takes the pie out

of the oven, placing it on the cooling rack.

Jay stays standing behind me and I hop off the counter. I head to the door, whipping around

before I open it.

“It takes two hours to cool,” I resist the urge to run and leap into his arms at the pout he gives me.

“I'm running over to my house so I can get the movie you watch when you need a 'distraction from

devouring the best dessert in the whole world before it's ready' movie.” I smirk and fold my arms,
“Or we could have sex.”

Jay knuckles the edge of the counter, “I know I will regret this for the rest of my life, but go get

the movie.”

My turn to pout, “I've had three men in my life: Two try everything they can to not have sex with

me and the other forces it on me.” I mean it as a joke, but my voice softens to a whisper by the time
I'm done with the dark, hard glare Jay is giving me. Obviously comedy's not my thing.

“I'm only going to say this once,” Jay's voice has hardened as he comes towards me, eyes hung

low, and I back up against the door. I know he won't hurt me, but damn, he can still frighten me.

He comes right up against me, pushes a leg between mine, and rests his forearms against the

door, bringing his lips close enough that they are faintly touching, “I have never wanted to be inside a
woman more in my life. I'm going mad in my desire for you. The way you moan, the way you taste, the
way you come for me with unrestrained devotion, makes me crazy with wanting to know what will
happen when I enter you: how your body will arch against mine, the sounds you'll make, the tightness
I'll feel as you peak around my cock. I want you so fucking bad it's taking everything I have not to take
you against this door, making you so full and stretched with me in you that you're mine and we both
know it.”

“Please,” I whimper beyond my control, begging him to take me.
Jay lowers his arms to remove his pants. My breathing becomes erratic and my heart is pounding

out of every part of my body; I swear it's even vibrating my skin.

His lips brush along my jaw, stopping at my ear where he moves his mouth fully against it. He

holds his bottoms across my chest, his hands are pressed against the sides of my breasts, “You're
going to need these to cross the street. We wouldn't want the neighbors seeing that tantalizing ass of
yours.” Then he kisses me so salaciously my knees give out and he has to hold me up to stop my legs
from crumbling under.

When he breaks the kiss I object by throwing myself on him. I toss the pants to the ground,

pressing his firm, naked body against me, and his erection slides between my legs. We groan loudly,
the air now threaded in a longing so potent it permeates every cell, every nerve.

I slide down to my knees and grasp him in my hands, causing a hiss to leave Jay's mouth.
“Lily,” Jay tries to use a warning tone, but I can hear a small tremble to his voice telling me he

wants this.

I wrap my mouth around him, letting my throat relax as I begin to suck deeper and deeper.
A hungry growl echoes through the room as Jay leans his forehead on the door to rest with his

hands.

The fact that he hasn't tried to stop this empowers me and I push him to the back of my throat. His

thighs shake briefly and it only fuels me to work harder for his pleasure. My hand holds the shaft,
working it because he's much too big to go all in, and my mouth and hands find a rhythm together.

“Oh, God, yes,” Jay's hips move back and forth unconsciously.
I peer up to find Jay staring down at me, drinking me in, devouring the sight of me willingly

submitting my mouth around his cock.

I smile before closing my eyes and taking him further than I thought was possible and am

surprised when I don't gag. My body seems to want this just as much.

One of Jay's hands entangles in my hair as he jerks and erupts into my mouth. I never liked this

part before, but tasting Jay on my tongue has me thirsty for all of it and when he's done I lick him
clean.

Jay drops to the ground and envelops me in his arms, trailing kisses along my neck. “God Lily,

your mouth...those lips...thank you.” He kisses me in a way that lets me know how much I pleased
him, and how grateful he is. I never knew so much could be conveyed with kisses, but somehow Jay
and I have a way of communicating this far better than if words were exchanged.

“Thank you, Lily,” he gives me one last peck and falls back onto the carpet, taking me with him,

cradling me in his arms. I rest my head on his chest and I make figure eights around his pecs with my
finger.

“You're really sexy,” I tell Jay as my eyes travel down, admiring every aspect of his naked body.
“I can't believe I just fucking blushed at that,” he quietly laughs and I love hearing it rumble

inside his chest. I lift my head up to find him staring at the ceiling, a happy, sedated smile on his face,
and I start kissing my way up, wanting to have his lips on mine.

We start passionately moving our mouths together and Jay groans, “Lily, go get the movie.”
I hold back the desire to giggle as I feel him harden against my thigh.
“You sure that's what you want?” I begin to suck on his bottom lip.
“It's not at all what I want, but after what you just did to me, I know I'll be a ruined man once I

know what it's like to be inside you. You've already ruined any future blowjobs for me.”

“I'm sure I can do better next time.” This time I do giggle when I feel it go completely stiff. “I

didn't know guys could get hard again that quickly after finishing.” I wish I hadn't said that, it shows
him more of how inexperienced and naïve I am.

“It's you, Lily. Your smile gets it hard. It's fucking embarrassing.”
“When was the first time I got you hard?” I ask, cuddling back into his arms.
Jay chuckles, “No way am I telling you that.”
“You either talk or we'll have to find another way to communicate,” my hand starts trailing

downwards. He grips my wrist, brings it to his mouth, and kisses my palm before holding it on his
chest.

“Fine. It was a couple weeks before Christmas. I was getting in my truck to go to work when I

spot the sexiest ass in existence bending into the trunk of a car in your driveway. I instantly get hard
with perverse thoughts of what I want to do to it.”

“Why didn't you want to tell me that? I like knowing you think I have 'the sexiest ass in

existence'.” My smile is huge from this tidbit of information. Jay likes my ass? Hell yes!

“Because when I saw you at my door Christmas day I knew it was you, even though I hadn't seen

your face, and I was instantly hard again. I stayed hard even when you were clearly terrified of me.
Kinda fucked up.”

I scoot up so I'm over him and our faces can be close, “I'm sorry I reacted poorly the first time

we met.”

Jay grabs my face in his hands, “Stop with all the apologies. I can be a scary bastard. I know this,

it doesn't bother me. In fact, it comes in handy.”

I peck his lips and his hands grab my ass. His body stiffens.
I give him another kiss, “What?”
“I forgot you're not wearing underwear.”
I notice that I’m bare on his stomach, if I moved lower by a notch I'd have him in–
“Don't even think about it, Lily,” Jay plucks me off him like I weigh nothing. He gets up to grab

his flannel pajama bottoms and throws them at me. Damn, he reads me too easily. “Put those on and
go get the movie,” he growls at me, but it's not scary, it's more of a sexually frustrated growl, and I
grin.

Jay opens his door, “Movie. Now.”
I wiggle into the pants and when I stand they fall down.
Jay walks over and lifts them up, “Hold on to the sides.” I obey and he pushes me out the door.
I have to waddle home to keep from tripping on the size and length of his pants. If I wasn't so

blissfully happy right now I know I'd be self-conscious with how goofy I must look, and I can
guarantee Jay's watching me.

Once inside, I head to the living room and come to a halt when it's filled with my brothers and

their friends playing video games. All seven heads snap in my direction, and my brothers' eyes widen
from the sight of me.

“Did you just come in the front door?” Seth suspiciously asks.
I blush, “Thought I heard someone knock. Why aren't you with Dad? Wasn't he taking you and

Cody to that custom board shop today?”

“Had to cancel, he got food poising.” He nods at me, “What's with the huge clothes and crazy

gnarled hair?”

I put my hand to my head and feel the rats nest. Note to self: When you wake up in the morning

and use the bathroom after your boyfriend had you squirming in ecstasy most of the night, look in the
mirror and fix your goddamn hair!

“Behind on laundry, found this in the back of mom's closet, must have been Dad's.” It's obvious

my brother doesn't believe me, but bless him for not pushing it. Our parents have been divorced for
eleven years; I doubt she has any of Dad's stuff anymore and I'm sure Seth knows it. They all
concentrate back on their game. “Um, can you get me The Goonies?”

Seth gets up and grabs the DVD off our bookshelf and chucks it at me. I catch it with both hands. I

flush a very deep shade of red from head to toe because I let go of Jay's pants to do it and now they
are on the floor. Thank God I'm swimming in his shirt and nothing of importance is exposed. I pull
them back up and waddle away before I humiliate myself any further. When I reach the front door I
pause because they will hear me leaving.

“Don't worry sis, I'm not going to tell mom you're sleeping with the neighbor.”
I jump and let out a small yelp.
“Jesus Seth! You scared the shit out of me!” I yell, turning around, “Wait, how do you know that's

where I'm going?”

“I'm thirteen; I'm more observant than you think. I know you're not going for a “run” during the

day for hours at a time; you get cramps from exerting yourself down the hall,” I stick my tongue out at
him but he's honestly not too far off from the truth. “And I saw you leave this morning to his house,
arms full of all the stuff you use to bake pie, and in a shirt only a man the size of our neighbor would
wear. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. You two better save me a big slice for my silence.”

I give a curt nod, “Done,” and open the door to head out.
“Hey, sis?”
I stop the door from fully closing, “Yeah?”
“It's nice to see you looking so happy...and you might want to invest in a comb.”
I laugh, closing the door, and penguin it back to Jay's, beaming at how sweet my brother can be.

As far as younger siblings go, I got damn lucky.

Jay whips open the door, yanks me inside, slams it shut, and pins me against it. He forces my

hands above my head and holds them there. My bottoms drop to the floor and he uses his foot it scoot
them to the side as I step out of them. His lips smash against mine and his thigh rubs against my most
sensitive parts. I groan, moan, whimper, and pant all at once. It's kind of annoying how easily my

body responds to him, how worked up I am, and it hasn't even been thirty seconds since he pounced
on me.

He works his fiendish tongue with mine and I stop caring how easily he excites me. I stop caring

about everything, concentrating on the intense pleasures he produces from my body.

The heat between my thighs grows to an ache and I turn away from his kiss, panting, “You can't

say no to sex and then kiss me like that, it's cruel.”

“Quit being ridiculously cute and tempting me then,” he shoots back, smiling widely at me so my

heart skips a beat. You don't even notice he has scars marking his face when he fully smiles, just his
beauty.

Jay drops my arms and backs away. I'm bummed to see him fully clothed and not naked the way I

left him.

I pout, “You changed.”
Jay chuckles, “I thought you would have too.”
Damn, that would have been a smart idea, “I was too anxious to get back to you I didn't think of

it.”

His smile gets bigger and I melt to the floor.
Get a hold of yourself, Lily. He's not the first attractive guy to smile at you.
But somehow Jay affects me more strongly than I ever thought possible.
I scramble back up, “I'm going to go use the bathroom and put on the clothes I wore over here last

night.”

I walk past him and he takes hold of my waist, backing me against him. He nuzzles my neck, “I'll

get the movie started.”

The movie!
I break free and scan the room for it. I zero in on it laying next to the side of the door.
Phew!
The Goonies is not a movie you want to lose.
Jay gets it and examines the cover, “The Goonies?”
I nod over-enthusiastically, “Yeah, it's a family favorite. Have you seen it?”
He scratches his scruff, “Don't think so.”
I squeal with excitement at getting to experience the movie with a first-timer and hurry to Jay's

bathroom.

I gasp when I see my reflection above the sink. My hair looks worse than I thought. It's bedhead

at it's ugliest, looking windblown and teased to death.

Holy hell, and I've been around Jay looking like this. At least my skin is glowing and my cheeks

are rosy with happiness. In fact – I take a closer inspection – I've never looked better (if I ignore the
hair). I know it's partly Jay, but mostly it's that I feel lighter than I have in years, with no one
controlling my every move but me. It feels damn good.

My hair refuses to smooth out, and Jay doesn't own a comb because he hardly has hair on his

head. I head to the kitchen in search of a rubber-band to tie it back with.

“Can I help you find something?” He asks from the couch as I rummage through the drawers.
“Rubber...” I open a drawer that contains a Magnum, throwing stars and knife, and what appears

to be a boomerang.

“Shut the drawer and ignore it,” Jay firmly commands.
“Is that a boomerang?” My eyes are wide as I take in what I'm seeing. It's not like the wooden

ones I've seen in movies. This one is made of metal and has an inscription scrawled on it: I hope to

find out how well you use it – Dragoni.

The drawer bangs shut, rattling it's contents and the surrounding drawers.
“I said ignore it,” Jay grinds out behind me as the angry heat radiating off him starts to cloud

around us, causing my hairs to stick up.

I've become immobile, paralyzed in fear, and hurt that we're back to him frightening me.
“It's for your own protection,” he crossly explains. I'm not sure why, but this royally pisses me

off.

I spin around. “Fuck you,” I practically spit the words out on him as my blood begins to boil.
Jay snarls his upper lip and does one quick swipe across his head with his hand, “What's in that

drawer is not something you need to know about.”

I push him and it must have taken him off guard because he sways for a second. “Stop getting mad

at me when I ask a question you don't want to answer. You don't want me knowing you and your
stupid secrets? Fine, but stop being a fucking jackass about it!” I'm seething now, tired of his crazy
mood-swings, “Be caring, kind Jay, or dark, scary neighbor. This back and forth shit is getting old,
and I'm tired of losing myself in you only to have you bite back.”

He seems to be getting just as irritated, “If you're telling me I need to choose which one to be, I'll

have to go with option number two because that's closer to who I really am.”

“Bullshit!” I cry stepping closer to him, fists balling up.
“You plan on using those guns on me?” He smirks and points to my fists.
I raise one up, “Don't tempt me mister.”
“Why is it the tiny ones who get the most feisty?” He's still smirking, eyes twinkling in

amusement.

I sock him in the shoulder. Shooting pain goes down my arm and he doesn't so much as flinch, but

he does start laughing, which only irritates me further.

Jay grabs my hand and moves my thumb, wrapping it across the bottom of my curled fingers, “Hit

with it like this, making sure to hold your fist tight, and hit with your knuckles, not the flats of your
fingers. Also, make sure your arm stays level with your shoulder, making it come out straight, and go
for the stomach.” He has me show him the movement, “Okay, try hitting me again.”

I shake my head, “No way, I'll hurt you.”
He rolls his head back and laughs, “Trust me babe, you won't hurt me.”
Ooh, his obvious entertainment over the thought that I could actually cause him pain has me

hopping mad!

I take a deep breath and punch him in the gut.
Jay rubs the spot I hit. He looks impressed, and quite pleased, “I actually felt a little of that.

Good job, shorty!” He then has the nerve to pat my motherfucking head like I'm a damn child!

BAM! I hit him again.
This time his muscles clench and his face contorts briefly in pain. I cross my arms and smile

smugly at him.

“You're damn pleased with yourself, I think maybe I need to get even,” his face turns sinister, but

his eyes are glowing with playfulness and when he lunges for me I'm not afraid.

I giggle when he throws me over his shoulder and gives my ass a hard slap. He walks us over to

the couch and drops me on my back. He lifts my shirt and gives me raspberries on my belly, making
my legs curl up as I laugh. He does this all over my stomach and I start laughing so hard I'm afraid I'll
pee.

“Okay! Jay, stop! Jay, I'm serious!” I'm gasping for air between each word as he continues his

onslaught.

He hovers over me, holding onto the armrest, “Had enough?” He grins before devouring my

mouth and sending a tingle straight to my hot spot. Then his mouth starts doing raspberries along my
neck. I start tickling him and to my delight he squirms.

“Is the big bad tough guy ticklish?” I tease, getting him on his sides. He squirms enough that I can

roll him on his back. I straddle him and continue the torture.

Jay entwines our fingers and pulls me down. I'm flat against him and he wraps my arms around

his neck, then he takes hold of my hips.

We resume kissing and the kiss takes on a life of it's own. We begin clawing at each other,

forcefully smashing our lips together while our tongues search the others – for what I have no clue,
but they are very determined to find whatever it is.

Jay's hands glide up my shirt, his thumb grazing my nipples and my hands take hold of his head. I

sit up and Jay follows, his lips trying to draw mine back. I remove my shirt, followed by his, and I
start to undo his pants.

He moves his hand to stop me. I let go and wrap my legs around him. My arms are around his

neck, smashing myself into him and I kiss him with deep hunger. After several minutes I try again. I
reach back down and this time he doesn’t stop my hands from unzipping his jeans. We move so we
are up on our knees and my fingers go along the edge of his jeans, around his back, and pull down. I
almost lose it at the feel of his perfect muscular ass as I pull his pants off. His arousal brushes mine
and he starts moving his hips to rub the length of it along my folds to the crease of my butt. His hands
are entangled in my hair and he pulls it back to expose my neck. He's licking and sucking while he
continues to stoke me with his cock. My nails are digging hard into his shoulder blades and I'm afraid
I'll leave markings, but I can't seem to loosen their hold. I have never felt desire like this; I never
knew it existed; I'm consumed with wanting him. He starts picking up his pace as he slides against
me, moving with ease from how wet I've become. His hands grab hold of my breasts, pinching and
pulling my swollen nipples, and my hips start grinding into him.

“Fuck, Lily,” Jay moans, and not long after I feel him come along me. When he's finished he

pushes me down, throws a leg over the couch, and buries his head between them. His tongue licks
from the back all the way to my sweet spot. He takes it into his mouth and sucks. I buck against him,
ready to come. He releases it and starts twirling around it with his tongue.

“Damn baby, the taste of you and me together is pure fucking heaven.” That's the kinkiest thing I

have ever heard, but so help me it almost makes me orgasm. His finger enters me as his tongue
continues to work and three thrusts later I explode, screaming loud enough I think the neighbors heard.

Jay scoots up, watching my face as his fingers work my swollen sex. When he senses I'm close

again he switches hands and sticks the fingers he had rubbing me in my mouth. I can taste myself and
him together and it turns my orgasm into a bomb that shatters my body. I become limp and I don't think
I will ever be able to move again.

Jay kisses along my neck, “I could spend the rest of my life watching you come for me. Nobody

has ever given themselves to me like you do, so freely with no pretenses.”

He continues to torment my neck as his hand starts working me again, softly at first until he hears

me moaning. He slides a finger in while his thumb continues to circle and probe. A third orgasm starts
building.

“Come for me, Lily. I want to feel you come around my finger. You feel amazing, you taste

amazing,” Jay nibbles on my ear and rams two fingers in. I explode in convulsions, screaming out his
name. “Shall we try for a fourth?” Jay's lips move down my neck and to my breast, taking a nipple in

his mouth, sucking hard and pulling with his teeth. I want to tell him I think I might die if I have
another but he already has my body wanting more. He moves to the other breast and his hand pinches
and twists the other.

“Should I make you come like this?” He nips on the tip before fully taking it into his mouth and

sucking it with a force that would normally be painful, but it only adds to my arousal. He pulls up,
taking my breast with him, then releases it, causing me to cry out. “You like that?” He repeats what he
did on the other breast and I think I might come from this.

His head dips down between my legs and flicks his tongue inside, “God baby, you taste way too

fucking good.”

It doesn't take much for his tongue to start sending me over the edge and I take hold of his head,

pushing it down harder into me. This seems to excite him because he digs his hands into my ass
cheeks, pushing them up to meet his face, sucking me even harder and I come again, with another one
right after that causes goosebumps all over my body and I tremble. Jay doesn't let up and his tongue
lightly keeps stroking.

“No more, Jay, I can't take any more.”
“Oh, but I think you can. I'm going to wear you out. You'll be too tired to think of doing anything

but lie here.”

“I already am,” I pant as my hips start grinding into his mouth.
“Liar,” he breathes out and starts kissing it exactly as he does my mouth, and when he enters two

fingers in me I come with a force that surprises me after how many I've had.

He makes me come two more times, and now I'm overly spent and sedated. I can't talk, move, or

even remember my own name.

Jay moves my body to the side and lays behind me. I fall asleep in his arms while Jay trails

feather light kisses along my jaw and neck, whispering how beautiful and perfect I am.

Chapter 13

11: 17pm

Jay crawls into bed and immediately reaches for me, encompassing me in his arms. His lips start

seducing the sensitive skin behind my ear, slowly making their way down my neck. His hand fondles
my breast, squeezing and pulling in a way he already knows I respond best to. He stops the minute he
realizes I have no clothes on. I hear him breathing heavily and I'm not sure if he's upset with me for
being naked or not. He gets out of bed and leaves the room. I try to ignore the rejected pain I feel stab
my heart.

11:29pm

Jay comes back into the room and slides into bed, pulling me into him. I gasp at the feel of his

naked body pressed to mine. He encases me in his arms again, resting his head on mine.

“I know what you want Lily, and God help me I want it too, but I want this to be special for you

and I'm not sure I know how to do that. I only ever...fuck. I know I keep reminding you but I'll be gone
very soon, and this will only complicate things.”

I move to my back and Jay is on his side peering down at me with unease, but I can also see a

strong need for me, a need that is making the aqua and yellow-gold of his irises appear to be swirling
around.

I reach up and stroke his cheek. “I want to have this to remember you by. I want to erase my only

memory of sex with something beautiful and pure. I'm scared and nervous but I don't have any doubts
you will be gentle. Think of how you are with me. You won't hurt me.”

Jay connects his forehead to mine and his hand roams my body.
“I've been holding back from this moment because it's going to suck when I leave, and this will

only make it worse.” He sighs and buries his head into my neck, “But at the same time I want to have
this to cherish for the rest of my life. I want to remember a time when my life was perfect, simple, and
full of happiness. I've never had any of those things before, but I have that with you. After I leave, I
won't ever have it again.”

My throat constricts from the sorrow behind Jay's words. I bring my lips to his and his body

crashes down on mine, clinging to me.

We take our time kissing, exploring with our mouths and hands on every crevice of our bodies. I

thought I loved the way his muscles felt under my hands, but my lips on his body is even better.

I can still sense hesitation in him. I stop and move to make us at eye level.
“What's wrong?”
He gives me a sheepish grin, “I don't have any condoms.”
I broadly smile at him, “Is that what had your body tensing up?”
His adorable sheepish grin is still formed on the side of his mouth as he nods yes.
“I had an IUD put in a year ago.” Stevie had made me, expecting that I would be ready one day

with Will. Back then I never understood the fear I had possessed of finally taking the next step with
him. With Jay there isn't an ounce of fear. Nothing has felt more right than to share this with him.

Jay tucks my hair behind my ear and runs his fingers over my lips, “I'm going to remember you

forever Lily, and how life seemed to stand still whenever you smiled at me.” Jay moves our bodies.
I'm now underneath and we kiss, both of us trying to convey to the other how unforgettable our time
together is.

“I'm nervous,” I whisper against his mouth when I feel his erection at my entrance.
“Me too,” he keeps his lips on mine as he talks, “I want this to be good for you.”
“It will be.” I promise. How could it not when it's with him?
Jay slowly enters me, working his tip in and out, inching in further and further every time. It's not

as painful as I thought it was going to be. I guess because this time I'm not a virgin, and I'm not being
forced to do it. It actually feels kind of good the more he moves in and out of me.

“Lily, you feel incredible,” he breathes into my neck, thrusting deeper inside, “God, I didn't know

it could feel this good.” He's crushing my body the more he moves, like he's restraining himself from
losing control.

“Let go, Jay. I'm alright. Let yourself go.”
His arms move onto the pillow to support his weight when he lifts his upper half and dips his

head down to watch himself slide in and out of me.

“So fucking perfect,” he moans under his breath.
He takes hold of my thighs and bends them back into me, then straightens his back up more. His

thrusts get faster and harder as he continues to watch himself move inside me.

He starts hitting against my walls in a way that makes my toes curl and I dig my nails into his

biceps.

“Don't stop, whatever you're doing, don't stop,” I beg, my eyes rolling back from the ecstasy I'm

feeling. Holy hell, I never thought it would feel this good. No wonder people become sex addicts.

Jay widens my legs more to drive inside me with more force and my back arches from the ripple

of pleasure it causes. He slides his arms under my arched back and pulls me up. We are both sitting
with our knees bent at each others sides. I bite down on his neck from how deeply he's inside of me.
He places his hands under my butt to lift it and get more movement.

The more we move the more I cling to his neck and bury my face in it. I push my butt out, wanting

to feel more of him sink inside when I bring it back down.

“Oh shit,” Jay cries when I do it again but faster, “I'm going to come baby, you feel too damn

good.” His hands dig into my ass as he seems to expand inside me and twitch. Jay is moaning and
grunting and I realize he's coming. This makes me smile into his neck. I close my eyes tightly to
remember what it feels like to have Jay inside me, taking pleasure from me and I him. It's beautiful.

We hold one another, still sitting upright, our faces buried in the others' necks. I love hearing

Jay's heavy pants knowing it's from us making love.

“Man, I really wanted to be able to last long enough for you to orgasm,” Jay chuckles, “I guess

that means we'll have to keep practicing until I get it right.”

“What a shame.”
Jay trails kisses up to my lips. His hands push back the matted hair on my face and brush it off my

shoulders, “I'm thinking we stay in bed all day tomorrow – actually I think it's Monday by now – and
we go to the shooting range on Tuesday.”

“You know what we need right now?”
He kisses me, “What?”
“Pie.”
He groans, “That sounds awesome.”

Jay lays us back down and pulls out of me.
He tugs on my mouth, “What's with the frown?”
“I like having you inside me.”
His cock twitches against me, “Keep talking like that and I'll be ready for round two.”
Jay kisses me hard on the lips before getting off, “I'll be right back. I'm going to the bathroom,

and then getting the pie.” He glides his hand between my legs and curls his finger tips, picking up our
juices. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucks it all off, winks at me, and jogs out of the room.

I listen for him to finish in the bathroom and I have a turn. We arrive back at the room at the same

time and we both stop to stare at the naked body in front of us.

Jay lets out a low whistle, “Damn baby, you're fucking sexy.”
“So are you,” my mouth has gone dry from remembering that I’ve had that naked body on me and

inside me. Yum.

We get back into bed and Jay takes a bite of pie straight from the middle. He had brought in the

whole dish that we never got around to eating earlier.

“Hey!” I cry, “Ladies first.”
He takes another bite, moaning, completely ignoring my protests, and twists his body when I try

to grab the fork from him.

“It's too good to share,” he mumbles, mouth full of pie.
When he goes to bring another bite to his mouth I bend over and snatch it into mine.
So good.
I lay back in bed, letting the pumpkin linger on my tongue.
“Fuck. Never mind, I’m definitely sharing if you make noises like that.”
I open my eyes to find Jay hungrily devouring me with his.
“I didn't know I made any.”
“It was soft, but fuck, it was just about one of the sexiest things I have ever heard.” He feeds me

another bite and I'm in pumpkin pie heaven.

“Okay, time for round two.” Jay throws the pie onto his nightstand, causing the glass to clink on

the wood.

The taste of pumpkin in my mouth and in Jay's is fantastic.
“Fuck baby, the noises you make when you taste pumpkin. It's like a damn aphrodisiac to you.”
I never really thought about it like that before, but I guess it is.
“Next time if I think I'm going to come before you do, I’ll just shove some pumpkin pie in your

mouth and I think that would do it.”

My eyes get wide and eager at the idea, “Can we try it?”
Jay laughs, “I was joking, but yeah baby, I'd like to see that.”
“Let's get started then,” I throw my arms around his neck and bring my lips to his. We begin to

prepare each other for round two of what I think will be a long night full of many rounds, and lots and
lots of pumpkin pie.

Chapter 14

Monday, January 13
2:16pm

“Jay?”
“Hmm?” He grumbles, half asleep.
I hesitate before carrying on, “I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Anything, baby,” his voice is gritty, and he begins to stroke my back.
I'm lying on his chest in the same position we fell asleep an hour ago. We've been alternating

between making love, talking, eating pie, and sleeping.

I play with the muscles on his abs, “I want to have sex with me on my stomach, and you from

behind.” I've been thinking about it for the last thirty minutes. The idea has me a little shaky, but I feel
the need to do it.

Jay stops stroking my back and I feel his body tense under me, “Isn't that...?”
“Yeah,” I answer more throaty than I wanted to; I was hoping to come across more confident.
“I don't know, Lily. Are you ready for that?”
I shrug, “It's hard to explain, but I want to. Last night was the most wonderful, amazing moment of

my life...” I stop to savor Jay's lips on my hair, and the way he plays with the hairs at the bottom of
my neck.

“If we do this, you need to promise that if it gets to be too much and you think you might start

crying you tell me. I couldn't handle watching you cry in sadness while I'm inside you.”

“I will, I promise.”
“Are you sore?”
“A little, but I'm okay.”
Jay scrubs the scars on his face, “Okay, but before we do I need to make sure you're the horniest

you've ever been and have no time to think about what's happening because you're fully in the
moment.”

“That's every time you touch me.”
Jay rolls our bodies, and hovers over me, “Tell me to stop the second any signs of panic set in.”
I nod and he kisses me, slow and sweet.
He begins to worship my body the same as the first time we were intimate, but this time as I'm

about to come from his mouth between my legs he stops to kiss and tease other parts of me. He does
this five more times, leaving me panting, sweating, and my blood pumping wildly from needing
release.

His tongue laps circles around my nipple before taking it into his mouth and biting down on it. He

plays with it with his tongue while his fingers stroke my inner folds.

I moan loudly when I'm close and he softens to a slower stroke, moving my wetness around

which isn't necessary – I'm drenched.

“Jay, please, just fuck me already!” I slap my hand over my mouth in shock with how feral I

sound.

Jay stops with my nipple between his lips, wickedly grins, pulls it up with his teeth, and tugs

before letting go.

“Aahh!” I cry out from the pleasurable pain.
I grab hold of Jay's head and firmly plant his lips to mine. I start to kiss him with an eagerness

and greed I didn't know I had in me. I'm sure our lips will be raw by the time I'm done. Without
breaking apart, I forcefully sit up and push Jay over to get on top. I break our lips apart, and we both
suck in a huge mouthful of air. I begin tormenting his body exactly has he did mine, starting from the
top and working my way down. When I feel Jay's cock begin to throb in my mouth, I pull off in one
slow, fluid motion, making a popping noise when I suction off the tip. I start back at his lips and work
my way down again. When I release his cock again, he starts panting and scrunching the sheets up in
his hands.

I decide to do it again. When my lips hit his cock, his hands come to my head and push me down

on him, forcing it to go further than it ever has. I'm surprised how much this arouses me as I slightly
gag on it. He doesn't have a strong hold on my head and I can easily move my mouth off him. As I do a
growl rumbles from his chest. In one swift movement he's over me and slamming into me from behind.

I sink my forehead into the mattress and bunch the sheets up under my hands in complete nirvana.

The harder he slams into me the more I drift off into euphoric oblivion.

3:29pm

“Baby, come back to me. Are you okay?” Jay's body is completely over me and his forehead is

on my temple, one hand resting on one of my mine, the other rubbing the arm under it.

“Yeah,” I breathe out, “More than okay.”
“What happened? I lost you.”
“I don't know,” I hardly recognize my distant dreamy voice, “I felt like I was floating.”
“I noticed you had gotten quiet and your eyes had glossed over. I started to cum so hard inside

you and you didn't make a peep. You wouldn't respond to me. I shouldn't have lost control like that.
Was I too rough?”

“No,” I still sound dreamy and breathless.
Jay scoots us up and tucks us under the covers, cocooning me in his arms.
“I'm a little rattled right now, I can't tell if you're okay or not. You look high.”
I smile a goofy grin, “I feel a little high.”
Jay moves us again so we are on our stomachs, faces close enough I can feel his breath on me,

and his hand lovingly strokes my back. I close my eyes, and the more he caresses me the more I seem
to float back down from wherever my mind just took me.

His hand moves to my face and his thumb runs along my cheek bones, lips, eyes, brows, and

forehead. He lets his fingers comb my hair and then they travel along my neck.

My lids slowly open and I smile at him.
He shyly grins at me, “Hi.”
“Hi,” my voice has regained some normalcy.
He softly kisses my lips and keeps our noses touching.
“Welcome back.”
“I don't know what happened. It was incredible. Like nothing I've ever experienced before.”
“Did you have an intense orgasm or something?”
“No, I didn't come at all.” I kiss Jay's lips when I see him frown, “Whatever happened was

almost better than an orgasm.”

“Seriously?”
“Yeah, it's like I left my body and went to another dimension of bliss.”
“Huh.”
“I know, it's crazy.”
“Do you think it was too much too soon? Your body's way of blocking out what was happening,

trying not to remember the first time?”

I smile, “The first time never crossed my mind. It was brought on by what you were doing to me,

the heights you were taking my body.”

“Wow Lily, what the hell did I do to deserve you? I don't deserve to have someone who

completely gives themselves to me like you do, with that kind of trust and love.”

“Everyone deserves someone.”
“No, not everyone. Not someone like me.”
“Especially someone like you. I wish you could see what I do.”
“Me too, baby. Me too.”

Chapter 15

Tuesday, January 14
3:33pm

We are returning from the shooting range. The whole ride home all Jay can talk about is how

impressed and seriously surprised he is at what a badass I am with a gun. He can't seem to get over
how easily I aim and hit my targets – perfect almost every time. He also got incredibly turned on that
my gun of choice, and the one I own, is a Glock-17.

Jay parks the truck and comes around to open my door, “It's official, you are the most amazing

girl in existence.”

I hold back the urge to squeal like a girl and hug myself from his compliment, but I can't stop the

huge-ass smile that takes over my entire face.

Jay turns his back to me, “Hop on.”
I giggle and throw my arms and legs around him. I nibble on his ear and he groans, which makes

me start to suck along his neck.

Jay turns his head to meet my lips, “I need you in my bed, followed by some pie, then my bed

again. In fact, we may stay there until tomorrow.”

“You followed by pumpkin pie may be the most amazing thing ever.” I go back to exploring his

neck with my mouth.

His key is halfway to the lock when he groans and rolls his head back in response to what I'm

doing. I wrap my hand around his while my mouth still pursues his neck and I help him unlock the
door and open it.

“I need to run home and grab some things,” I tell him between nibbling and sucking.
“No you don't,” Jay's voice has turned low and husky, and it's incredibly sexy.
I hop off, “I'll be quick. I need my toothbrush and a change of clothes for tomorrow.”
Jay turns around pouting. It makes me want to jump him and rip his clothes off, but I really want

my toothbrush. I dash out of his door and to my house. I'm almost at my door when I hear my name
being called by a voice that makes my skin crawl. I close my eyes tightly, praying I'm imagining it.

“Lily?” I hear again as the familiar voice gets closer. The blood rushes out of my body at the

sight of Will in my driveway. Adrenaline starts coursing through my veins and my heart is beating
crazy and wild.

Fuckidyfuckfuck. What's he doing here?
I walk over to Will as confident as I can. I notice my hand has started twisting my hair and I

curse myself. I thought I had gotten over this habit, a habit I had started with Will. I refuse to let this
man get to me. I'm stronger than I was, and I won't let him hurt me. He's a sorry excuse for a man who
had to demean my existence because he had a sick, twisted need to own and control me. I'm not that
girl any more. By the time I reach him my pep talk to myself has made me a tad braver, but not as
much as I was hoping for.

“What are you doing here?” I cross my arms to try and appear tougher than how I'm feeling. It's

also to prevent myself from twirling my hair. I absolutely refuse to do that, even if I have to stand here
twitching as I hold back the urge.

“Awe, peach, I've missed you. You won't return my calls,” Will's tone is the same one he used to

use on me when he was asking my forgiveness for being a jerk. It used to work, now it makes me want
to punch him.

“I'm not your peach,” I reply, unemotional and cold.
He advances towards me and I have an inner battle with my body's natural desire to take a step

back and cower. I don't, and I want to fist pump the air, yelling out a “Woohoo!”

“How can you say that?” Will reaches for my arm but I sidestep it.
“Don't. Touch. Me,” I state clearly, enunciating each word.
Will's eyes dart to Jay's house, “You sleeping together?” He focuses in on me as if I've been

going behind his back cheating.

I welcome the rage building inside me, it's a nice contrast to the docile girl I once was.
“Go home, Will. You're not welcome here,” I hard-line with assertion I didn't know I had.
I recognize the lick of a flame starting in Will's eyes and know he's losing his patience.
“Enough with the games, Lily,” he's using his soft, sweet, seductive voice that once had me

batting my eyelashes and swooning when we were first together, “I lost my temper. I'm sorry, but
don't go whoring around the neighborhood and spreading your legs for everyone.”

WHAM! That would be the sound of my fist slamming into Will's jaw.
Fuuuucckkkk! That hurt! Goddamn! I don't shake my hand and cry out, I don't want him to see any

weakness in me.

“You fucking bitch!” Will cries, rubbing his jaw and I feel immensely satisfied when I see his

busted, swollen lip. I guess my time at Jay's is paying off in more ways than one.

Will takes hold of my arm with brute force and I want to (but proudly don't) whimper in pain,

“I'm going to let that one slide. Let's say we're even now.”

I let out a deep, menacing laugh that takes us both by surprise, “Not even close.”
“What did you expect to happen when you try leaving me after we made love the night before? I

gave my heart to you, and you leave me the next day like a piece of used meat.”

I lunge and tackle Will to the ground, keeping a choke hold on him. My brain is telling me to stop

as his lips start to turn blue, but I’m not me right now. I'm on a war path of built up fury I've been
stewing on for weeks. I'm finally seeking my revenge, finally letting myself feel the internal wounds
he caused me, ones that would become a permanent scar I would carry the rest of my life. Oh, I'll
move on with my life, you can bet on it, but I'll never forget what he did to me. Never. He stole a part
of me. This body, this soul is mine. I should get to choose what pieces to give away! My hands
squeeze with more force.

His legs are thrashing and he's hitting my sides, but I have too much adrenaline in my system to

feel it or care.

All of a sudden I'm airborne and being pulled away from Will, who is gasping for air.
“Let go of me Jay! I'm not done!” I wiggle around in Jay's arms that are securely wrapped,

binding me in.

“You've made your point, Lily,” Jay says into my ear soothingly, “He knows he can't hurt you

anymore. He's not worth going to prison for.”

He's right, and I let my body retreat into his safe, warm arms.
Will clumsily stands up.
“It's time you left,” Jay advises.
I watch Will's eyes widen as he takes the size of Jay in, and I see fear dance across his face. I'm

certain Jay's giving him one of his sinister stare downs.

“I'm done with this cunt anyway. I hope you like used goods.”

I charge for him and Jay doesn't try to stop me. Grabbing Will's shoulders, I bring my knee to his

stomach with a force that has him buckling over and heaving.

I'm airborne again and being carried away in a football hold under Jay's arm towards his house.
“I'm not done yet!” I yell, wanting Will to feel every ounce of pain he has ever caused me and

more.

Jay chuckles, “I think I may be a bad influence on you.” He smacks my ass and I grin, “That

punch to his jaw was badass babe. You made me proud.”

Warm tingles take over at his praise, “You saw that?”
Jay sets me down on his living room floor and shuts his door, but not before making sure Will

has gotten in his car and is driving away.

Jay picks up my hand to examine my knuckles that are sore, “I was coming after you to kill the

motherfucker when your fist shoots out and smashes him with enough force I heard it from across the
street. It stopped me in my tracks.” He lightly kisses my throbbing hand and leads me to the kitchen.

“I hate him, Jay. I hate him!” I seethe as Jay wraps ice in a towel and holds it on my knuckles,

“He actually called what he did to me 'making love'!”

Jay stiffens at my words and growls, “He said that?”
“He said I deserved what I got the next morning for trying to leave him after we 'made love',” my

words are firing out of me like rockets, “he had the audacity to say I used him! Ha! I should have
made him choke to death on his own balls!”

Jay starts laughing, “Now you're even sounding like me.”
“I can't believe the weak person I was.”
Jay hooks my chin up, “Not weak. You just needed to realize your self-worth.”
I pounce on him and attack his lips, letting my tongue and mouth show the gratitude I have for

everything he has done for me.

Within minutes we are on his couch, ripping our clothes off each other, unable to control our

frantic greed for the other's body. We don't waste time exploring or touching, going straight for what
we want. I get on top, sinking down on him, and we both cry out from the pleasure. I want this so
badly I don't have time to feel insecure that I don't know what I'm doing. I just let myself get lost in the
sensation and let my body instinctively tell me what to do.

Being stretched out and full of Jay inside me has my hips rocking and circling at a pace so

untamed and unrestrained that I combust so powerfully it gives Jay no choice but to follow. We both
scream out the other's name before collapsing on our sides. Waves of aftershocks continue to hit us
both as we silently try to come back to earth.

“Damn, Lily, you've ruined me.” He kisses the top of my head and I nuzzle up under his chin,

sedated and content.

“You were hilarious to watch out there. You've become such a little firecracker,” Jay chuckles,

kissing my head again.

“He can't hurt me anymore. He can't because I won't let him. I have an amazing sense of freedom

from knowing that,” I say this only because I need to hear the words spoken out loud.

“No, he can't,” Jay's voice fades into the words, sounding almost in agony over them. He

breathes out a curse and begins rubbing the bridge of his nose, his breathing growing rapid and
unsteady.

I sit up, “What's wrong?”
He gets up and starts pacing the length of the hall, to the couch and back again. Hands resting on

his hips, head hanging, watching his feet move.

“You're kinda freaking me out right now. What's wrong?” I plead with him, but he ignores me and

continues his pacing.

After a tedious amount of time he comes to a halt between the hall and the living room. I watch

him transform in front of me. His features harden, his muscles tighten, and his eyes devoid of emotion.

“I'm leaving on Friday,” he's even and matter-of-fact, as if his words didn't just shatter me into a

million pieces. “I have to start getting everything in order.”

Jay retreats down the hall and I remain on the couch, too stunned to move. He can't be leaving.

Oh god, just the thought of it is more painful than I ever imagined.

I jump up and stumble after him, “Jay, wait. I thought we still had a few more weeks.”
I catch him as he's about to open the door to his second bedroom. His back is to me, and he takes

in a deep breath, “It's time, Lily. I've been here far too long. I warned you about this.”

“Did you just decide this? Why so suddenly?” I sound desperate, but I don't care. My chest is

caving in from the idea of never seeing him again.

“I have a lot of work to do,” he goes into the room, shutting the door behind him.
I start hyperventilating as I drop to the ground. Why does it hurt this much? I knew our time

together was fleeting, what we had was temporary, but I never prepared myself. I never let myself
think about it. I preferred to pretend it was never going to happen.

The second room door opens and Jay comes out, sidestepping around me as if I'm a puddle on the

road. He comes back fully dressed and retreats back into the room.

I force myself to get off the floor. I go to the couch, pick up my fallen clothes, and get dressed

with shaky hands. I sit on the couch, turn on the television, and mindlessly watch.

Chapter 16

7:01pm

The refrigerator door opens, awakening me on the couch. I open my eyes to find Jay biting into an

apple and staring at me.

“I have a lot I need to get done. You should go home.” I ignore the gruff, heartless tone.
“It's fine. I'll watch a movie until you go to bed,” my voice falters and I try to not let my face

show my confusion and sorrow.

“Go home, Lily,” Jay takes a loud chomp into his apple and heads down the hall.
Did he just throw me out of his house? Oh god, what is going on? What happened to the Jay that

made love to me so tenderly? Who had me laughing all day my sides still ache?

I go after him and enter the room without knocking. Jay's at a computer desk with papers

surrounding him and the safe next to the desk wide open.

Jay's head jerks up in surprise, then shifts to something more threatening and dark, “What the fuck

Lily?” He sounds aggravated and annoyed. “Ever heard of privacy?”

“Are you seriously doing this?!” I shout, marching over. For once I'm a little taller and I heighten

myself, “What's with the cold shoulder?”

“I don't have time for your silly girl behavior right now. I told you this was going to happen. Deal

with it.” He focuses back on the computer.

“Why are you acting like this? Why are you trying to push me away?” It's almost at a whisper,

I’m too astounded at his behavior.

“The only reason I've stayed way past my expiration date is because I needed to make sure that

fucker wasn't a threat to you. I saw first hand you can take care of yourself. It's time I get the hell out
of here.”

“Why? Who are you running from?”
Jay laughs, dark and sinister, “Not running. Hunting.”
Chills prick every part of my body. “Who are you hunting?”
Jay ignores me, shuffling through papers.
“Will I ever see you again?”
“No.”
“Then tell me who you are.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“It doesn't matter. I'll be gone and you can forget you ever met me.”
“Not possible.”
Jay swivels his chair to face me, his expression detached, impassive, “There are a lot of bad

people in this world, people that would use you to get to me. I can't have that on my conscience. I
stupidly let this go too far. Luckily, I'll be gone soon and I can put this mess behind me.”

“Gawd, you make it sound like what happened between us was a mistake.”
“It was.”
A punch in the stomach would have been more inviting than Jay's admission.
“How can you say that?”

“Lily, I need you to go. I have a lot of work to do.”
“No.”
“Lily,” he warns.
“If I walk out that door I'll never see you again, and you’ll carry on with your life dismissing

what happened between us, even though I know you feel it too.”

“It's for your own protection. Just trust I'm leaving now to keep you safe. My world is no place

for someone like you.”

“Someone like me!” I screech, “What the hell does that mean?”
“Lily, I need you to go now.”
A single tear falls and I wipe it away before Jay can see, “Is this goodbye?”
“No, I'll see you before I head out.” He sounded like we were friends and he was only leaving

for a vacation.

“Fuck you. Don't do me any favors!” I storm out of the room, slamming the door shut. “Have a

nice life, Jay!” I yell back through the door before continuing my tromp back home.

I slam my front door closed, hard enough to make the walls rattle. “Fuck you,” I tell the door,

kicking it as a steady stream of tears fall down.

I run to my bed and sob into my pillow, trying to understand how my life went from perfect to a

crumbling mess in a blink of an eye.

Why did I let myself fall for a guy that reminded me every chance he could that he wasn't sticking

around, no matter what? Did I stupidly think I was enough reason for him to stay? The truth is I never
let myself think about it. I figured I'd deal with it when it happened. Well, now it has, and it sucks.

God, it sucks.

Chapter 17

Wednesday, January 15
10:02am

Jay's number rings on my cell phone and I warily answer it.
“You want any of my workout equipment?” His voice is back to being gruff with me and the tears

I thought had dried out last night come back.

“You're not bringing it?”
“No, I rent 'em, but if you want any of it I'll buy it for you.”
“That makes me feel cheap, like a payoff for sex.”
“That's what you think this is? Wow...fine, whatever, it doesn't matter anyway. It's probably

better if you think that of me. Do you want anything or not?”

“The weights and weight bench,” I reply. If I’m going to feel used I might as well get something

out of it.

“I'll bring it over in a minute,” he hangs up.

10:23am

I answer the door to find a very uncomfortable Jay with his hands in his pocket, shoulders

scrunched up, sunglasses on.

“Where do you want it?”
It's hard not to smirk at his question. Thanks to him my brain reads sexual connotations into

everything now.

He notices and I see his mouth twitching on the side of his face, and for a brief second I forget the

last eighteen hours.

“Wherever it can fit. I think I might have room in the back of my garage,” I can't hold back a

smile and neither can he.

“Well I've got my truck at the front entrance, I can load it in. You just have to open up for me.”
The reason for his visit comes full force to the front of my brain, and my playful smile turns

down.

“I'll go open the garage,” I shut the door, go to the kitchen, out the door, and push the garage door

opener on the wall.

Jay pulls out the equipment that he took apart, puts it back together for me, and places it where I

want it.

“Thanks,” I say when he's finished.
“I'm glad you wanted some of it.”
We both stand there avoiding eye contact, neither one moving a single muscle.
Jay reaches into his pocket and hands me a business card, this time looking me straight on, “If

you ever get into trouble, call Malik. I talked to him, and he's here for you no questions asked, twenty-
four hours a day. Promise me you'll call him, and as soon as you get a job you'll take defense or
martial arts classes.”

I reluctantly take it. “I don't understand why you're ending things like this, so spur of the

moment,” I say softly, staring down at the card in my hand.

“I swore to myself I had to leave the instant I knew you would be okay. You are. I have to leave

now.”

“I won't be okay if you go.”
“Yes, you will.”
“One day, yeah, but not any time soon.”
Jay lets out a deep, heavy sigh, “I'll find a way to make it easier for you.”
“How?”
He shrugs, “I'll find a way.”
He goes back to his truck and I watch him back up until he reaches his driveway.

7:12pm

Jay has been in and out since he left my house. I shamefully spied from the window like a

pathetic loser. He's been home a few hours now and I keep hoping he'll try contacting me to apologize
or explain. Anything to show what we shared meant something to him. I grow more nervous and sick
to my stomach with each passing hour.

I can't take it anymore and I open my front door, only to find him getting into his truck and driving

off.

I pace the kitchen most of the night until I grow too tired and head to bed. When I wake up the

next morning his truck is still gone.

Maybe he's gone. My stomach churns at such a pace I might vomit from the thought.
It's after eleven in the morning when he finally pulls into his driveway. Yes, I’ve been spying this

whole time like a love-sick fool. It's pathetic and depressing.

I thought I was finally turning into a strong-willed woman, but pining after a man who seems to

have already forgotten me proves how wrong I am. Does this realization stop me from going outside
to greet him? Nope. Shame on me.

I jog across the street and catch him before he starts up the walkway to his door.
“Jay, wait!” I yell, and he turns around. He's wearing his stupid shades and I can't tell his mood.

His mouth remains in a straight line. We're close enough to touch and I can smell the alcohol oozing
out of his pores and the stench of cigarette smoke.

“What's up?” Jay asks, swiping his head.
“Where have you been?” I demand, way too forcefully; even I know it's not my place to

interrogate him.

“Well, mom,” he retorts, annoyed, “The guys from work threw me a going away thing. I got way

too fucking drunk to drive home.” Even his breath reeks of booze and I hold my breath while he talks.
“Now if you'll excuse me, I have the worst hangover of my life and I need to go pass out.”

He turns to leave and I spot the markings on his neck. Both my hands iron grip his arm and tug

him closer. I get on tip toe to make sure I was only seeing things.

Oh god, I'm going to be sick.
“Are those lipstick marks on your collar and neck?” I can hardly speak. My heart and rapid

breathing are all I can hear while I wait for a response.

Jay hooks his finger in the collar and brings it out to get a better look and chuckles. He fucking

chuckles!

“Damn, Sheila,” he says it with amusement in his voice, “That girl sure knows how to show a

guy a good time.”

I slap him.
I slap him so hard across the face it vibrates my arm and stings my palm, causing my eyes to tear

up from the pain.

We stare at each other in shock as Jay rubs the red hand print on his face.
“You told me you would never hurt me,” I choke out, trying to hold back the tears. “This,” I point

to the lip markings on him, “hurts more than anything Will ever did to me because I never really loved
him, but you...” A sob escapes the back of my throat. I run home before I lose it in front of him even
more than I already have.

I want to throw something. I want to hit something. I want to scream, cry, yell, and then hit

something again. I refrain from any of those things. Instead, I pace around my house like a mad woman
off her meds, pulling at my hair. The walls start caving in and I'm finding it hard to breathe. Really
hard.

I think I need help.
Why do I keep letting myself be tortured by men who treat me no better than a stray dog?
I only have myself to blame. I let them in, ignore any red flags, and Jay had a shitload of them.

Every time his walls came down I stupidly pushed away any signs of warning, wanting to get closer
to him.

Oh god, I let myself fall in love with him.
That's when I lose it. My back hits my bedroom wall and I slide down it, sobbing so hard air

can't get to my lungs fast enough and I'm not sure I will stop. I'm not sure I want to stop.

Chapter 18

Friday, January 17
2:13pm

I cried last night until I passed out. I'm still in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out my

fucked up life.

I get out of bed to use the bathroom and get a drink of water.
I look out the kitchen window and see Jay's truck loaded to the max with all his stuff. My heart

stops. I wait, because I know any minute I will see him walk out of his house and drive away from
here, away from me.

Exactly two minutes later my instincts are correct, and I see him throwing something into the bed

of the truck. He grips the side and hangs his head. From here I can see his chest rise from heavy
breathing, and his palms hit down on the bed of the truck, causing it to shake. He backs up and walks
around, kicking a tire as he passes it. He hops in the truck and I'm sprinting out of my house. I stand at
the end my driveway and watch as he drives away without so much as a glance in my direction. He
stares straight ahead as if I never existed, which maybe I don't to him anymore.

Asshole.
Now I’m angry. I let the anger snake through my veins, overpowering anything else until I'm a

ball of fury, rage, and hatred.

I storm over to his house and find it unlocked, so I enter. Why? Not sure. I think I need closure or

some shit like that.

It's completely empty.
His kitchen makes me take a step back, all the drawers have been thrown out and shattered

against an empty wall. Cabinets are hanging off their hinges as if he had tried ripping them out. I head
down the hall to his bedroom. The wall on the door-side has six holes smashed through it.

What the hell?
It looks like he went on a crazy rampage through the place.
I check out the second room. It only has one hole.
I go to the garage, which is bare, but the glass wall is shattered all over the ground.
I leave the house and push back any desire to cry and throw myself a pity-party. I didn't cry after

Will raped (I can finally admit that word to myself) me and beat me the next morning. I sure as hell
wasn't going to cry over a neighbor I had mutual sex with. It was fun, he helped me find myself, and
now I'm moving on. It's that simple. A lie I need to tell myself until it becomes the truth.

I remember when my parents divorced and they told me that sometimes the only reason a person

enters our life is to pass along a valuable lesson, to help us heal or grow. That's what Jay was for me.
Yes, it hurt the way it ended, but I'm going to try and hold on to all the good he did me. For the first
time in two years I can feel again. I'm alive, I cry, I yell, I punch fuckers (I curse!) who attacked me
and violated me. Yes, Jay broke my heart and I truly don't think I can ever feel that way for someone
else. At least I'm alive and feeling the pain, the rage, the hurt, every little emotion that goes with a
broken heart. I feel it and I welcome it. I was Will's perfect robot girlfriend who blinked and smiled
on demand, so hell yes I welcome every emotion I feel right now. I'm me again, even if it means I
spend the next two months doing nothing but crying, eating chocolate, and watching Netflix.

Chapter 19

Saturday, January 18
6:36 pm

“Omigod Lily, turn on the evening news!” Stevie cries into the phone.
“I'm busy,” I barely get out from my mouth full of chocolate, a movie paused on the television in

my room.

“Seriously, you aren't going to want to miss this!”
“Why don't you fill me in. You'll probably tell it better.”
“Omigod, omigod! Will has been arrested for a string of murder charges!”
“WHAT?!” I cry, chocolate spraying everywhere as I throw off my covers and catapult to the

living room.

I have no time for remotes and I use the foreign concept of turning on the TV and channel surfing

via the television.

I watch with wide eyed astonishment at Will being handcuffed and thrown into a police car. The

screen shows the four men and five women he is being charged with murdering. I sink to the floor
when I immediately recognize the four men as the ones who attacked me. The women I have never
seen, but they were last seen close to areas near The Recovery Room and have gone missing over a
span of three years. I have a sinking suspicion they were the unlucky ones who didn't have Jay to save
them.

Did Jay do this?
Oh shit.
Jay did this.
I know it.
There is no doubt in my mind he killed those men and set Will up to spend the rest of his life in

prison. I'm a mixture of emotions: should I feel grateful? Scared? Happy that Will and those men can
never hurt anyone again? I don't know. All I can do is stare at the screen, open mouthed and
speechless.

“Lily, are you there?”
I make a grunting noise and I'm surprised I can manage that.
“I knew Will was an ass, but shit! Thank God you're okay...” she starts rambling about what she

has seen and heard, but my brain tunes her out as I watch the screen, soaking in every word the
newscaster speaks.

My brothers come in at some point but I don't register a word they say. Soon after, my mother's

there holding me, trying to comfort me, but I never acknowledge her as I absorb everything they
splash across the screen. My Dad even shows up, but he doesn't try to get me to talk. He sits next to
Seth on the couch and we all silently watch replay after replay of the day's events.

Jay did this. He did this for me. I know he partly did it to give himself peace of mind and closure

once he left.

He set Will up to spend the rest of his life in jail to suffer for me, so he could never hurt me again

and live out his life in a punishment worse than death.

I have no clue what to feel.

Chapter 20

Sunday, January 19
7:27am

The sound of the doorbell wakes me. I sleepily rub my eyes and stretch. Why do morning

stretches in bed feel so amazing?

One hard knock on my bedroom door and it's opening with my mom peeping her head around,

“Oh good, you're awake. There's two policemen at the door asking to speak with you.”

Not what I want to hear before I've had my morning coffee. I know exactly why they're here.
Will.
Obviously they've found out I was his girlfriend for the past two years. Maybe Jay's only made

my life more complicated.

Brokenhearted and now part of a murder trial.
Awesome.
I throw on my bra, underwear, jeans, a white tank-top, and an old sweater. I quickly brush my

teeth, put my hair into a french braid, and greet the officers in my living room.

“Good morning, Miss Evans. Sorry to have woken you, but our visit couldn't be held off any

longer,” the dark haired, grave looking man says. They didn't look like policemen. No uniform.
Instead, very expensive looking suits.

I plaster on a fake smile, hoping they can't tell how on edge I am, “It's fine.”
Bless my mom, who comes in and hands us each a cup of hot coffee.
“I'm sure you know why we are here.”
“Will?”
They share a brief moment that has me speculating their true motive for being here.
“Yes, Will, but we also are wondering about your connection to Jay Lincoln.”
That had my adrenaline spiking, and when I take a sip of my coffee my hands are shaking.
“Oh, so you're familiar with him.”
Shit.
“Only enough to know he's a scary SOB.” Didn't have to lie there.
“That he is. We've been tracking him for some time, and we think he's been in business with your

ex-boyfriend.”

Bullshit, I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut.
“Yeah?” I squeak out instead, and I'm glad it can be written off as fear and not worry over Jay's

safety. Why I even still care has me a little pissed at myself.

“He's a bad man, Miss Evans. He's wanted for numerous murders in more than one state and we

believe he's a certain serial killer we've been looking for.”

Mom gasps, and so does Seth who's hiding behind the wall listening in. My face pales and I feel

sick.

“We've interviewed others who he worked with and the group he meets with at the racetracks.

You're the last interview. They all informed us the two of you were close.” I didn't like the way he
looked at me when he said close. It felt like he was undressing me with his eyes, and they flashed a
look of hunger as if he was imagining what we did together, closely. Is that normal behavior for a

cop? I'm thinking no.

“Lily, is this true?” My mom asks, astounded.
“Kinda,” I reply honestly as my stomach churns, trying to wrap my head around what I was told.

No way is Jay a murderer. Well okay, he is, but a serial killer? I just can't believe that. “I mean, he
was teaching me some self-defense moves, and he let me watch him drift, but that's about as close as
we got.” I can't believe I lied to law enforcement. I'm starting to get all sweaty.

“Are you sure there wasn't more going on, Miss Evans? We need to know what you were to

him.”

“Why?”
“It's important for the case?”
“And which case is that?”
“The one we are building against Jay.”
“And you're local police tracking him?” Why are local police tracking a killer from other states?
“Sorry Miss Evans, I guess I never introduced myself. I'm Ed Quake and this is my partner, Lee

Sharp. We're with the FBI.”

Oh shit. That would explain the suits.
“I...uh...I'm not sure what I was to him,” I respond to his question that I had tried avoiding,

“Honestly, I think I may have been someone to pass the time with. I really don't know.”

My mom's staring wide-eyed at me, unaware of the amount of time I spent over there.
“Did he tell you where he was going?” The man's partner asks.
“No, he told me he was leaving and three days later he was gone.”
“Did he ever mention anything about his past to you?”
I think I might faint from being interrogated by the FBI and the fact that the man I was sleeping

with and love is a serial killer. I can't believe that last one, but didn't Dexter have a wife he was good
to and sweetly took care of? I shake my head, stop thinking like that.

“Miss Evans?”
“Sorry. This is a lot to take in. Are you sure Jay is the man you’re looking for?”
“Yes, but he's an extremely hard man to track,” he smirks and so does his partner, as if they are

sharing an inside joke. “It's very important that we know what you do.”

“Um...he talked about his dad a few times, his mom, um...that...” I swallow hard, darting my eyes

to my mom before continuing, “he was leaving because he was hunting or something.”

This causes them both to scoot to the edge of the couch, leaning closer to me, “Did he mention

how he got the scars on his face?”

I shake my head, “No, but he gave me the impression that they happened separately.”
My mom speaks up, looking pale and a little green, “Is my daughter going to need protection in

case he comes back to kill her?”

“He's not going to kill me, mom. If he was, he had plenty of chances when we were sleeping

together,” shit, my lips snap shut.

Okay, now my heart is at such a pace I’m afraid it may cause me to go into cardiac arrest.
The men exchange another glance I can't read.
“I think it's best if we bring you to the local station for more in-depth questioning.”
“Does she need a lawyer?” My moms asks, forgetting her fear and turning on protective-mom

mode.

“No, she's not in any trouble. We need to get an official statement on record. It's out of character

for this man to get close to anyone and we need to figure out if perhaps he admitted anything to her

that might be of importance.”

They get up, “Please come with us, Miss Evans. You could be the answer we've been looking for

to get this guy.”

No, I do not want to go. I don't want them to find Jay, but I'm not exactly the best judge of

character.

I stand up, “I honestly don't know much, but I’ll tell you what I can.”
Once inside their black Chrysler, I stare out the blackened windows at my mom, who looks like

she is going to cry her eyes out any second, and my brother, who looks scared and wide-eyed. I
realize I don't have my purse.

“I need to get my purse,” I try opening the door but it won't budge.
The car starts to drive off, “Not necessary.”
“Why won't my door open?”
“It's always set that way. Safety.” Oh right.
During the car ride they start grilling me on what I know and I answer any questions they might

have.

“Shouldn't I be waiting until you can get this down?”
“Let us worry about that,” the man who insisted I call him Quake says.
Forty-five minutes later we continue to drive northeast and they have asked me more questions

than I have answers.

“Where exactly are we going?”
“It's not much further.”
Sharp turns to look at me, and then looks at Quake. “She's not his usual looking fuck-buddy.

Makes me wonder what makes her pussy so special.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, adrenaline spiking. Is this appropriate conversation?
“Was wondering that myself. Too bad we can't find out.”
What the?
“Maybe he won't care if we have her, and we can have some fun.”
“Shut your fucking trap. This better work. I'm not going back to Laz without him.”
I start to panic. Nothing these men are saying is making any sense, and I have a very bad feeling

they aren't who they say they are.

“You guys aren't FBI, are you?”
“No kitten, we're not. We've been needing a favor from your boyfriend for a long time, we just

never had the leverage to get him to agree. Now we have you.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but Jay doesn't give a shit about me.” I shouldn't have told them that;

I'm not sure if it's better they think he does or not.

“That's a chance we're willing to take. We need the kid. You better pray your life’s worth saving

and he'll help us.”

“What if I'm not worth saving?” I hoarsely whisper.
Sharp licks his lips, “I'll have my fun with you and then I'll kill you.”
I think I'm going to be sick.
“What do you want from him?”
“We have a job for him,” Quake answers.
“What kind of job?” I ask; curiosity has always been a weakness of mine.
“He tell you what he does?”
I shake my head no. My heart is aching and throbbing in my chest from overexertion and I can't

find words to talk. I need to figure out how I’m going to get out of this mess alive. Jay shouldn't have
let me in, he was absolutely right.

“That daddy of his was one of the best contract killers ever known. Taught that son of his

everything he knew, even helped him out a few times. The kid's a natural. The only problem is he
doesn't want that life, he has other plans driving him. We're hoping your life is enough reason for him
to help us out. Why the money we offered him isn't enough is fucking crazy, but Jay's never been like
the rest of 'em. He lets his plan for revenge control his life.”

“Is that like a hitman for the mafia?”
They both start laughing as if I had just said the funniest thing they had ever heard.
“The men he's grown up with make the mafia look like saints,” Quake rubs his chin, “Try and

remember that when you're around him. Raised by a lethal killer and living his whole life trying to
find revenge for his mother's death. He's about as fucked up as they come. You're safer with Sharp
here than your boy-toy, and that's not saying much. Sharp's a sick motherfucker.”

Every single inch of me is covered in skin-prickling fear and I want to curl up and hide, but I

can't stop myself from wanting to know more, wanting to unlock the mysterious Jay Lincoln. “Who
does he want revenge on?”

“That's something you're going to have to ask him. The Marker's not someone you freely talk

about; only the insane few deal with him.”

The Marker? What kind of name is that?
“And Jay is one of the insane?” I insinuate, hoping to finally get some answers.
“Only men with three marks are,” Quake deadpans vacantly.
I decide to further investigate, hoping my persistence doesn't come across too pushy. “The three

marks being the scars on his face?”

The car is filled with an eerie silence and I wish I had kept my prying mouth shut.
“I think it's time you shut up and let us do the questioning, or have you forgotten you're our

captive?” Quake scrapes out, like a blade sharpening on a rock.

I hover in fear, waiting for them to take the lead in a dance I prefer to call the hustle.
Neither one speaks again and I'm left to linger on a world I know nothing about.

Chapter 21

4:28pm

“Wake-up,” a coarse voice with raunchy breath breathes onto me, hand massaging my breast over

my sweater. “I've waited too long to subside my hunger.”

The suggestive, crude words whip my lashes open, bringing my body to a vigilant state of

alertness.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” I seethe, hands forming fists. That's when I notice the zip-ties

cuffed to my wrists, binding them together.

Shit. That's not good.
I'm ripped from the car seat, stumbling behind Sharp, disoriented and trying to regain perception

of my surroundings through my foggy haze from dozing off. What is it about naps that leave you
discombobulated? I should have never let myself fall asleep. A moment in time I'm sure to regret.

Finally my eyes focus on my surroundings, which to my shuddering dread is a motel. Not just any

motel, a hole-in-the-wall, pay-by-the-hour, shit-hole of a room.

Right about now I despise Jay with every fiber of my being for letting me into his life. My love

for him has been pushed deep into a box that I have locked away and buried under six feet of dirt, in a
land far, far away.

The door opens to a room and I'm shoved inside, door locking behind us.
Double shit.
My eyes scan the dark room, trying to scout out an escape plan, but I'm zip-tied in a fucking motel

room. I doubt an escape is likely to happen. The lights turn on and Sharp is circling in on me. He pulls
my cheeks together, presses his lips to mine, and rams his tongue down my throat.

I firmly grab hold of his shirt and snap kick his knee. Sharp yells and tumbles backwards in pain.

I spit, trying to get the disgusting taste out of my mouth of cigarettes, stale coffee, and five day old
morning breath.

I hear Quake chuckle behind me.
“Serves you right. I told you we're not allowed to touch her unless you want to deal with Laz and

Link. I sure as hell don't, so quit fucking around.” Quake throws Chinese take-out on the table next to
me, and as much as I hate it, I’m happy to see food. I've only had coffee today and I'm starving.

Quake snaps open a pocket knife and cuts off the zip-ties. I rub my sore wrists and head to the

food, but Quake slaps a hand over my chest to stop me, “Uh uh uh, you get whatever we don't finish,
and I'm damn hungry so I wouldn't be expecting a lot. Go sit in the corner over there.” He points to the
corner between the bathroom and the TV stand, which holds a television that still uses a dial. That's
how classy this place is.

I walk over to the spot and take a hard swallow at the big round stain on the floor. I take in a

deep breath and try not to let my brain conjure up what it might be from. I sit down cross-legged on
the ugly green carpet.

Quake is right there with me, “Put your hands behind your back.”
I obey because Sharp is sitting on the edge of the bed pointing a gun at me. Quake has fresh zip-

ties around my wrists, and then has me extend my legs so he can do the same to my ankles.

“What if I have to pee?” I ask, because it seems like a high probability.

“So pee,” Sharp sadistically grins.
“Here?” I nod my head down to indicate where I'm sitting. His grin becomes even more

perverted.

That's disgusting. There is no way I will pee my pants. I'll hold it even if it kills me.
“Water?” Quake offers charitably.
“Fuck you,” I glower at the both of them and they laugh, delighted with themselves as they go to

the table and start digging into the food.

My mouth is salivating, watching them gorge on the Chinese food. They finish it all and my

stomach growls in protest, causing Quake to stop as the last egg roll is about to be eaten.

“I guess I could let you have this. You wouldn't be much use to us if you die of starvation,” he

walks over and crams the roll into my mouth, stuffing it, but I don't care. I'm too happy to have
something to eat.

Quake goes back to the table and pulls out his cell phone, bringing it to his ear.
“Yeah,” he says, speaking into it, “We stopped at a motel to eat and find out what direction he is

headed...yea, yea we're on our way.” He shoves it back into his pocket and turns to Sharp. “Time to
move, he hasn't done much stopping. That damn kid is hell-on-wheels, we're further from him than we
thought.”

“You'd think he wouldn't be in any hurry to leave, seeing how he has this 'lil cutie to warm his

bed,” Sharp points his thumb back at me.

I try to push back the thought that he's in such a hurry to try and get away from me, but I can't seem

to push the idea back far enough.

“Lucky for us he didn't leave town until Saturday evening, but he still has a heavy lead on us.”
“He left town on Friday,” I inform them.
“Nope, it was Saturday.”
“No, I watched him leave.” Why am I arguing with him about this?
“He may have left that house on Friday, but he definitely didn't leave until Saturday. Stuck around

to watch them arrest that ex of yours and then got the hell out. Another reason we're curious what
exactly you mean to him – framing someone for his killings isn't his usual style.”

All I can think about is how angry I am at him for not saying goodbye. How stupid is that?
Sharp comes over, unties my ankles, leads me to the car, shoves me in, and ties me up again.

11:53pm

I stare out the window, counting the stars, trying desperately to ignore the burning, cramping need

to pee, and the lioness roars my belly keeps making for more food.

“Need some water?” Quake asks, thrusting a bottle my way.
I tighten my lips together and shake my head no.
He cocks his head to the side, “You okay, you look a little red faced?”
“Fine,” I croak out because my bladder feels like it might explode any second, which is not a

pleasant experience.

“Pull over,” Quake tells Sharp, who immediately obeys. He opens my door and cuts off my ties,

“Go pee, and if you run I won't hesitate to shoot.”

I nod and bolt to the other side of the car to block me from the road. I stumble onto the dirt road,

drop my pants, and let out a huge sigh of relief when I finally let go. I don't even feel humiliated or

embarrassed that they are watching me; it feels too good to finally be peeing. I stand up, zip my pants,
and wipe my hands on the back of them because I'm sure my urine is more sanitary than whatever the
hell I sat on in the motel. If I get out of this alive I'll burn these clothes and take a decontamination
shower until the hospital kicks me out.

I'm zip-tied once again and the fun road trip continues.

Chapter 22

Monday, January 20
7:14am

My mouth is dry and I'm so hungry I want to cry.
When Quake pulls up to a gas station, I decide to finally speak up.
“Can I get some food?”
Quake smacks Sharp awake, “Go get us some food for the road. Pick something out for the girl

too.”

Thank God!
My eyes stay glued to Sharp as he enters the mini-mart attached to the gas station and my stomach

starts growling and rumbling in anticipation.

He comes back out with a medium size paper bag and I'm about to skyrocket out of the hood of

the car with joy.

Quake and Sharp get in at the same time and we drive off.
Sharp pulls out a Redbull for Quake and himself, as well as mini packs of donuts and they start

eating away.

I clear my throat, but they ignore me.
“Uh, guys? Did you forget about me?”
“Nope,” Sharp says, mouth full of food. “Not sure I want to give you any after your little stint

yesterday.”

“Oh come on! Did you seriously expect me to let you kiss me?! I think you wanted me to fight

you, gets you off better.” I'm tired and hungry. I don't care who I piss off.

“We know each other so well already,” he grins, looking pleased, and throws a pack of mini

donuts at my face. “I'm glad you know I enjoy a good struggle, it'll make things funner.”

I greedily rip the package open and start shoveling them in.
Sharp hands me a Redbull and I gulp it in three swallows, then finish the rest of my food in

record speed.

My stomach starts gurgling and that familiar feeling of getting sick bubbles up.
“Guys, I think I”m going to be-” I don't have time to finish my sentence before I'm trying to roll

down my window that is unfortunately locked. I click the button frantically. Quake must have noticed
what I'm trying to do because the window rolls down and I throw my head out. Everything else I just
ate follows suit.

Quake has a show of heart and lets me keep the window rolled down as I let fresh air calm my

queasy stomach. Now I know: if you haven't eaten in almost forty-hours, take it easy.

Ten minutes later, the car exits and we go through a drive-thru where Quake orders food.
Once back on the road he hands me the bag and orange juice, “Take it slow this time.”
I want to kiss him in gratitude, but I'm not about to get Stockholm Syndrome just because they

feed me.

There are only hash browns in the bag, but it's better than nothing and I eat them very slowly .
“What do you guys have against feeding me?”
“Nothing really. Can't exactly take our anger out on Link, so you're the next best thing.”

“Who’s Link?”
“Jay.”
“Is that 'cause of his last name?”
“Sure, kid.”
“Oh, Jay Lincoln's his real name?” I thought it was probably a fake considering what I know

now.

“Yup.”
“Why doesn't he change it if he doesn't want people finding him?”
“He's not afraid of people finding him, he just doesn't want anyone bothering him. Big

difference.”

“What do you guys want with him?”
“We need him to get something for us.”
I open my mouth to say more but Quake's phone rings, disrupting my smooth interrogation.
“Quake.” Whatever the person on the other end says has him spitting out his drink, spraying it all

over the front of the car, “He's what?!” His brows pull together in bewilderment, “When did he
change directions?...I'm aware how far that is...so make him slow down...let me know when it's
done.” Quake throws his phone in an empty cup holder, “He can't decide where the fuck he's going.
He started heading west last night, and is now going back towards Mesa.”

Sharp mirrors Quake's look of confusion, “Maybe he's on to us?”
“Naw, if he thought he was being followed he wouldn't run, he'd confront us.”
Quake's phone rings again but this conversation's one sided and lasts less than a minute.
“It's done, we have a little less than twenty-four hours to catch up to him.”
“Why don't you contact him and tell him you have me?”
“Because then we'd be dead. If he knows we're coming he'll be ready for us. Never give a

Lincoln the upper hand, they're calculating SOB’s.”

Can't say this bit of information surprises me. It sounds like Jay to formulate a plan if he knew we

were coming.

Chapter 23

Tuesday, January 21
6:21am

We drove all day and night. Quake and Sharp took turns, only stopping for gas, and like the

gentlemen they are they let me use the restroom at stops. I had one more feeding of beef jerky and
water, but that was late yesterday afternoon. Needless to say I'm pretty famished, and my muscles
ache from sitting in the car and having my arms and legs tied together. I haven't showered since
Thursday, nor have my teeth been brushed since Sunday morning. I feel all kinds of icky.

I had tried to find out more on Jay, but Quake made it clear we were done talking when he

tightened my zip-ties, making them cut into my skin which is now raw, burning, and sometimes itchy
as hell.

We drive up to a motel that's a step up from the last one, but it still looks roach infested.
This time they let me sit on a chair. I watch Quake take out the Bible from the nightstand and head

to the bathroom.

Sharp sits across from me on the bed, pointing his gun at me and undressing me with his eyes,

continually licking his lips.

When Quake finally comes out I convince them to let me use the bathroom. To my utter joy and

delight the bathroom has a window. First, I quench my thirst and guzzle the water from the faucet.
Then, I use the toilet and try to figure out how to escape without getting caught.

I come back out and watch Quake put a briefcase under the mattress.
“Can I take a shower?”
Sharp grabs his crotch, “Only if I can watch?”
“I'll let you watch me undress out here, but that's it,” I offer. That's how desperate I am to escape.
Sharp whips out his cock and starts stroking himself, and I take that as my cue to get undressed. I

ignore the bile in the back of my throat and look to the blank wall behind him. I catch Quake standing
to the side, his arms crossed, watching me too. With shaky hands I remove my clothes.

“Bra and panties too,” Sharp rasps out, almost at a groan.
This is by far the most humiliating moment of my existence. Tears sting my eyes as I unhook my

bra and remove my underwear.

I close my eyes and take in a deep breath before bending down to retrieve my clothes.
“What do you think you're doing?”
I still avoid looking at Sharp, “You only said I had to undress in front of you, not come out naked

to re-dress.” My heart is pounding, waiting for a response, and I pray this is not the stupidest thing I
have ever done.

“Go ahead kitten, take your shower,” Quake intervenes, and I resist the urge to let out a sigh of

relief.

I turn to head to the shower, but Sharp's voice stops me, “Leave behind the panties.”
“No thanks,” I reply as friendly as I can.
“Then I'm coming with you.”
I grit my teeth and turn around. Sharp is still stroking himself and more bile stings my throat. I

throw my underwear at him. I quickly turn back around, but not quick enough and catch a glimpse of

him taking in a big whiff of them.

Fucking pervert.
I lock the bathroom door behind me. With shaky hands I turn on the water and quickly, but

quietly, get dressed.

As quiet as a mouse I climb onto the sink, and slowly open the window. For the first time in days

I'm thankful I met Jay. My arms have grown stronger and I find it easy to hoist myself up and out the
window. When my feet hit the ground, exhilaration hits and I break out into a smile. It worked!

I run until I'm to the side of the building where I can't be seen. I decide to run across the street to

the casino because the only other place open at this hour is the diner and it's further down. I run faster
than my little legs can carry me, but adrenaline helps speed things along.

I reach the parking lot and my legs make the final sprint to the entrance. My heart is soaring with

relief when the door is only a few feet away.

Behind me tires screech and a car slams to a stop.
“Nice try kitten, but life's not that easy.”
A sharp, blinding pain hits my scull and I black out.

7:31am

I wake up to a throbbing headache, on my stomach and zip-tied to the motel room’s bed.
Quake's face is inches in front of mine and he spits into my face when he talks, “Don't fuck with

me little girl. I think I've been real hospitable up until now, but your shit's getting old and I'm going to
teach you a lesson about not fucking with me.”

I hear him remove his belt and I start thrashing around, getting ready to scream.
Sharp's gun jabs my temple, “Stay still, and keep quiet.”
He steps back, letting Quake take his place, “I'm going to belt you now. Ten times. For every

muscle you move or noise you make, I will add more. Are we clear?”

I close my eyes and remain still. I'm not sure if that was a test or not.
“Good kitten.” Quake lifts up my shirt to expose my back.
The first strike of the belt has me biting down on my lip and tears stream down. I bury my face

into the pillow as I prepare for the next blow. He hits the same spot two more times and my body
spasms on the inside to keep from moving or making any noise. This has to be the most painful thing I
have ever felt.

The next three are in a different spot. Somehow I'm able to release my mind and go somewhere

else. It's still more painful than I ever imagined, but I'm able to dull it enough to survive the remaining
four without moving or making any noise.

No more words are spoken and they leave me there to silently cry and steady my breathing. My

back feels like it's lying on a bed of hot coals, and it doesn’t subside as the minutes tick by. I try to
concentrate on the conversation Quake and Sharp are having, but can only make out a few things
because of the burning pain I'm still experiencing. The only words my brain registers are about Link,
Laz, a dagger, and someone named Mark.

Eventually Sharp comes over to un-zip me from the bed and lead me to the car. My back stings

and burns as it rubs against the fabric of the seat, but it's almost tolerable. Once the car is back on the
road they inform me it won't be long until we reach Jay, and I'm a mixture of emotions. I'm angry with
him for putting me in this situation, hurt still by how he left things between us, and scared about what's

going to happen next.

Chapter 24

8:51am

I see Jay eating breakfast from the diner window and all my terror and fear vanishes. It's

replaced by the swelling in my chest at the sight of him. I've missed him. I shouldn't, but I do. I
desperately do.

He has his shades on and I wish I could see his face, his eyes. When we enter and the cow bell

clinks against the metal door frame he doesn't look up. I'm hiding from view behind Quake, Sharp
behind me, when we approach his table.

“Well look who it is,” Quake drawls out. “The missing Link.”
I see Jay sit back and cross his arms in the window's reflection, “I assume this reunion isn't by

accident.” His voice is cold, but smooth and non-threatening.

“We have business to discuss with you.”
“Go back to your boss and tell her to go fuck herself. I'm not for hire.”
“We're hoping this sweet, little thing might change your mind,” Quake pulls me from behind him

and throws me into the empty booth seat across from Jay, Sharp sliding in after me. Quake sits next to
Jay, forcing him to scoot over and make room. Sharp's gun is digging into my ribs, warning me to stay
quiet and still.

Jay's head doesn't move or even flinch. I want to see his eyes badly. His lips have remained

straight lined and I have no clue what is going through that head of his.

“What are you doing with her?” Jay's tone has remained the same and fear starts taking over

again. Either Jay really doesn't care that they have me, or he has one hell of a poker face.

“You do what we want, we give her back,” Quake responds, looking over a menu.
“You're wasting your fucking time boys, not interested.”
My hands start to shake and I'm grateful they are zip-tied under the table. I don't want any of them

to know how shook up I am that I'm going to be left in the hands of my kidnappers to most likely be
killed.

“She warned us you might say that. Promised Sharp here he could have his way with her. You

know he doesn't play nice.”

Sharp runs a finger along my jaw and I flinch back, curling my lip up, “Don't touch me.”
“Have they touched you?” It took me a moment to realize Jay's talking to me, his body's still

sitting back in the booth, arms crossed, tight lipped.

I lightly shake my head no, “Not really.”
If I hadn't been staring at the side of the booth between the window, I would have missed Jay's

hand tightly fisting, turning white, before he relaxed it.

“What the fuck does that mean?”
Sharp jams the muzzle harder into my ribs and twists. I let out a whimper and bite down on my

lip, pissed at myself for giving him that little satisfaction. “We told you not to talk.”

The waitress approaches and asks if we need anything. Sharp and Quake order a coffee and tell

her I'm fine. I don't look at her, keeping my eyes focused on the middle of the table exactly like they
instructed me to do.

“So Link, what's it going to be?” Quake asks.

“First off, don't fucking call me that, and second, fuck you. Find someone else,” Jay grinds out,

growing irate.

“You saying this girl here means nothing to you?” Sharp inquires, brushing my cheek with the

back of his hand. “Because we have evidence stating otherwise.”

“Bullshit.”
“It's true,” Quake reaches into the breast pocket of his jacket and throws some pictures on the

table.

I can't stop myself from leaning over to take a peek. It's pictures of Jay and me: me riding him

piggy back to his house, us at a gas station and Jay leaning in to give me a kiss while waiting for the
gas to finish pumping, and a few more I don't get to see before Sharp forces me back. If I didn't know
any better I'd think the people in those pictures were crazy about each other. A dull ache forms in my
chest.

Jay picks up the pictures and shuffles through them, “A bunch of pictures is supposed to convince

me that I care for her?” Jay stacks them together and puts them into the back pocket of his pants.
“You've got to give me more incentive than some girl with a tight pussy I had fun fucking.”

The waitress comes over with the coffees.
“Cream?” Jay offers, moving the little tin of creamer between the two.
They both begin making their cups, and I take the opportunity to look at Jay, hoping I can read his

body language to see if what he's saying is a lie or the truth.

Nothing. I can't read a damn thing.
Quake gives Sharp some kind of signal with his hands. Sharp's free hand starts grazing up my leg

and I stiffen. He leans into my ear, “I guess that means your tight pussy's mine now.” He then licks my
ear.

I can't hide the disgust on my face and I nudge him off me. “Get your hand off the middle of my

legs or I swear to God I will scream, and I don't give a shit if you shoot me because I would rather
have a bullet cut through me than your dick,” I sneer under my breath looking him dead on, hoping my
eyes reveal the menacing hate I feel for him.

“She this feisty with you?” Sharp removes his hand, “Cuz she's been giving us lip this whole time

and I'm getting real fucking tired of it.”

“We finished here guys? I'd like to go back to finishing my meal in peace. It's already going to be

cold, which I hate.” Jay takes a gulp of his coffee before adding the rest of the creamer to his cup. “Or
do you have something else you want to throw at me?”

Quake rubs his hands together on the table, appearing nervous, which throws me off – he's been

collected this whole trip. “We know where Mark is, or at least we did five days ago,” his voice is
low, frightened.

“Bullshit. I'm done with you two. Leave,” Jay growls.
“It's true. Laz said if the girl doesn't work to use this as a last resort.”
“So where is he?”
“You do the job, we tell you.”
“How do I know you're not lying?”
Quake throws another picture on the table but Jay snatches it before I can see.
“This could have been taken months, years ago.”
“Check the date on the corner of the newspaper.”
Jay scowls in a way I have never seen and the air around us changes. I can feel anger emanating

off him, mixed with something else that makes my skin crawl and my hairs stick up.

“What exactly does she want me to do?” Jay asks, his head bent, still staring at the picture.
Tears spring to the corners of my eyes. Whoever is on that picture is obviously more important to

him than me, than my life. My heartache takes on another level of torturous pain.

“Come back to our motel and we'll fill you in in private.”
Jay takes out his wallet and throws a fifty on the table, “Let's go.”
What's going to happen to me now? Maybe I'll get lucky and they'll dump me on the side of the

road, alive.

Quake gets out and stands in front of the table, waiting for me to get out after Sharp, who leads

the way. Quake pushes me into Sharp to hide the zip-ties around my wrists and we walk to the car.

“You can follow us,” Quake informs Jay.
“I'd rather ride with you. We can talk in the car, get this over with quicker.”
Quake nods, gives Jay a pat down and removes his weapons, then they get in.
Sharp opens my door.
“Leave me here,” I beg, making my face as pathetic and lost as I can. “I swear I won't tell

anyone. Please.”

“You know too much,” he shoves me into the back seat and my head lands on Jay's lap, who

helps me sit up.

He touches the zip-ties, “Is this necessary? What's she going to do with three trained killers and

no weapons of her own?”

Sharp buckles me in, grazing my breasts as he does, “So you do care?”
“Hardly. It draws way too much fucking attention. At least five people noticed in there, and with

her surrounded by the three of us I wouldn't be surprised if someone calls the cops.” Jay lifts the zip-
tie up and I wince in pain from it digging into my skin, “So lets get this removed before we get to the
motel and even more people see. Lets make it seem like it's her choice to be with guys like us. You
two are such fucking amateurs.”

Sharp looks to Quake who gives a “go for it” nod. Sharp draws out his pocket knife and cuts off

the zip-tie, nicking my skin in the process. I bet he did it on purpose. Jerk.

“Watch it, Sharp,” Jay warns once he's in the drivers seat.
Sharp starts the car and heads towards the motel.
Jay's hand hasn't let go of mine and his thumb is rubbing over the raw skin. I hate how much his

touch gives me pleasure. He moves to the other wrist and examines it with his thumb too.

I look at his face, which is frowning, and I can't see his eyes but I feel them penetrating me,

studying me.

“They hurt you anywhere else?” His voice has turned warm. It's hard not to melt into it and forget

he doesn't care if I'm dead or alive.

I decide not to answer. He doesn't deserve an answer, not if he's going to leave me with them.
I rip my hands away from him, cross my arms under my chest, turn my head, and stare out the

window.

Jay sighs and sits back into his seat.
“So, is it solely Laz who I will be helping?” Jay starts in, “Anyone else involved?”
“Only Laz,” Quake answers, turning around and keeping a gun pointed at Jay.
Jay keeps talking, unfazed and obviously familiar with guns being pointed at him, “Anyone else

know where I'm at?”

“Just the people Laz hired.”
“How'd you find me?”

No response.
“Don't make me repeat myself.”
“YouTube video of you drifting on the tracks, then a hot piece of ass jumping on you. You know

the rest of the fucking with your mouths scene that happened.”

Jay scowls, curses under his breath, and stares out the window.
We go on for miles of desert road and I know our motel is approaching fast. Familiar panic sets

in on the unknown of what will happen to me.

“Lily,” Jay says, interrupting my thoughts of figuring out how I'm going to get out of this alive. “In

about ten seconds this car is going to crash, I need you to brace yourself.”

Huh?
I whip my head to look at him.
“What the fuck are-” Quake starts but Jay talks over him.
“Now Lily, get ready,”
Both men in front slump down. Quake's gun drops from his hand and Jay catches it by the grip

handle. Sharp's hands release the wheel and the car accelerates, most likely from his foot weighing
down on the gas pedal.

I look to Jay wide-eyed and scared. He unbuckles, reaches through the two seats, takes hold of

the wheel, downshifts the automatic, and slowly engages the emergency brake. The car skids but he
maintains control and guides it off the road, letting the desert weeds assist in stopping the tires.

My mouth has fallen open at how effortless he made that all seem.
Jay rearranges the men. Sharp's hands are back on the wheel, his foot off the gas. He rummages in

the glove box before resting Quake's head on the dashboard. He pulls pills out of his pocket, and
places them in a cup holder. Next, he grabs their cell phones, wallets, papers, and Sharp's gun.

Jay sits back and opens his door to get out, “We need to move.”
He goes around to the driver's side and pops the trunk. He closes the door and I hear him gather

his weapons in the back.

He comes around to my side and opens the door, carrying a black duffel bag in his hand, “Come

on Lily, we need to move before the cops show.”

I can't seem to move, I'm in shock.
Jay bends down to unbuckle me, “I can't carry you, it'll slow us down. Are you hurt, can you

move?” He's studying my face inches away from it and I feel the pull to brush his lips to mine. That
triggers my anger and I push him away.

“I'll wait for the cops.”
Jay takes hold of my arm and pulls me further down the road.
“Stop it. Let me go.”
“I need you to trust me and I need you to pick up your pace.”
“Why the hell should I trust you? And what the hell happened back there?” Jay has let go of my

arm and I'm running alongside him.

“I poisoned them.”
“What?! When?”
“At the diner. Did you seriously think I was going to let them have you?”
“Yes.”
He shakes his head, jaw clenching, “Well, I wasn't. I saw them coming before you even entered

the place. I can't believe Laz still uses those idiots.”

“You weren't going to leave me?” Relief washes over me.

“It really fucking pisses me off that you would think that. Fuck, Lily! Stab my fucking eye out why

don't you.”

“What was I supposed to think, considering the way you left things and how you acted at the

cafe? And who's Mark?”

Jay comes to a dead stop, taking me with him by the elbow. “Don't ever, say that name again. Do

you understand? I never want to hear that name come out of your mouth. Ever!”

“O-k-kay, I won't,” I stutter out at a whisper, and them we are running again.
“Can we slow down please,” I pant as my lungs breathe fire.
“No.”
I have not even begun my questioning, but I won't be able to talk at the fast pace we are running. I

can't fully think about all that just happened. All I can do is concentrate on running and not passing
out. Jay looks like we are casually walking, where I've turned into a sweating, red, puffy mess.

I follow him into a retirement community a few miles down the road, and he leads me to the first

house on the left. Jay goes to the driver's side of the parked car in front and pulls out a slim jim from
the black duffel bag. I put my weight against the car's trunk to help hold me up as I bend over, gasping
for air.

I hear a car door open.
“Get in.”
I look up to see Jay hop in the drivers seat, throwing the duffel in the back, but my legs are too

weak to move. He gets out, picks me up with one arm, and throws me roughly into the passenger seat.

He gets back in and fiddles under the steering wheel. The car purrs to life.
“Are we stealing this car?!”
Jay backs out and we continue in the direction of the motel.
“What if they saw us! We could get arrested!”
“It's fine Lily, they aren't home.”
“How do you know?!” I can't believe I just committed a felony!
“When we passed this place I watched a couple get into a car parked next to it and drive off.

We'll switch cars at the motel.”

“We're going back there!” Panic starts up again. “We can't go back there,” I dig into his arm, eyes

wild and frantic.

Jay scans me, “Why?”
“They'll come back. Please Jay, don't make me go back there.” Dammit now my throat is closing

up. Don't cry Lily, don't cry.

“They're dead and we have to go back. I need whatever it is they have there.”
“They’re dead? You killed them?”
“Had no choice. Besides, they can't fuck with you and expect to get away with it.” He takes a

quick glance at me, “Did they hurt you?”

“Not really.”
“Care to elaborate?” He asks through clenched teeth,.
“Um...well that Sharp guy stuck his tongue down my throat, and the other one whipped my back

with his belt when I tried to run away.”

Jay's skin inflames and his knuckles whiten from gripping the steering wheel. A slew of curse

words fly out.

We pull into the motel and I point Jay to our room where he parks in front.
He walks to the room and makes an irritated hand gesture for me to follow him. I shake my head

no. I am not going back in there. Jay repeats the gesture but I don't budge. He accelerates over to me
and throws open the door, “Let me make this clear. You do what I tell you or die.”

“You would kill me?” I gasp, tears stinging my eyes.
Jay lets out a loud roar, “You really think shit of me, don't you? I meant, if you don't follow my

instructions you will get herself killed. I know what I'm doing. You have to fucking trust me. Not even
death can stop me from keeping you safe.”

“I seriously doubt that,” I mumble under my breath. He's not a God, although his body sure is

built like one. I unbuckle and follow him in, because frankly, I don't want to die. I'm still not sure
whether I can trust him, but I'd rather be under his supervision than another one of his
“acquaintances.”

I step into the room and push back the memories of humiliation and pain. I wrap my arms around

myself, squeeze my eyes shut, and take in a deep breath before opening them.

Jay is watching me, brows creased, causing his forehead to wrinkle, and his teeth are grating

together, making his jaw compress and accentuating every facial muscle. He takes a hesitant step
towards me and reaches his arm out to touch my face, but I lean back to avoid it. He lets out almost a
saddened sigh and swipes the top of his head.

“Did you see where they may have stored any papers?”
“No, but when we got here Quake took the motel's Bible into the bathroom for a long time. He

doesn't strike me as the religious type.”

Before I finished Jay was at the bed, opening the bedside table and pulling out the Bible. He

opens it but it appears normal as he flips through the pages. About a quarter of the way in a small
square has been carved out. He pulls something out that I can't see.

“What is that?”
“Tiny USB,” He shoves it into his pocket, “ Anything else?”
“They hid a briefcase under the mattress, which made me nervous because they were so secretive

about me seeing anything the whole time, unless it was doling out information I asked about you.”

Jay's whole body stiffens exactly how I anticipated from my comment. I think this time around I

might enjoy bringing up topics he doesn’t want me knowing anything about. If we're stuck together I
might as well have fun with it. I'm past letting him frighten me. My broken heart is a way more
powerful emotion. I'll let it fuel me and cultivate it into seeking vengeance the only way I know how
to strike him, with the only weakness he seems to have: his past.

Jay throws back the mattress on the bed and grabs the briefcase, “Once we're back in the car I

expect you to tell me exactly what you think you know about me.”

He removes a Glock from behind him and hands it to me, “What else?”
“For me?” I ask, hand wavering above it, uncertain.
“Keep it on you at all times.” Jay grabs my hand and places the gun in it.
I tuck it into the back of my jeans, “You're letting the hostage have a weapon?”
“You're not my hostage,” a surly Jay bites out. “You're better with a gun than most, and I've seen

a lot of gun action in my day.”

A mild warmth coats my skin at his praise, but I don't let it show on my face. I don't want him

knowing he still affects me.

He does another sweep of the room, and we leave once he's satisfied that nothing went unnoticed.
He opens the passenger side for me.
“I thought we were changing cars?”
“Changed my mind. There's a shopping center thirty minutes from here. We'll do it there.”

Fine, whatever, it really doesn't make any difference to me since I bet the next car will be stolen

too. Oh joy.

We head further from the way we came, away from the direction of my home.
“When do I get to go home?”
Jay scrubs his face with his hand, “I'm sorry Lily, but you won't be going home for a while. Not

until I know no one else will use you to get to me.”

“How long will that be?”
“A few days, weeks, can't say for sure.”
“Seriously? But what about my family? People will be looking for me. Oh god, are they in danger

too?” I roll down my window, needing fresh air, hoping it will help the nausea churning in my
stomach. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if my family got involved in this mess that has become
my life.

“They're fine.”
“You thought I would be fine!” I yell, “And look at me now! In a car with a man who has killed

god knows how many people after escaping two men who kidnapped me, barely fed me, jerked
themselves off to my naked body, and whipped me when I misbehaved!” I scream and punch his arm,
satisfied when the car jerks from the impact, “I'm so fucking mad at you right now! You broke my
fucking heart and didn't even bother to say goodbye, like I meant nothing to you, which I'm beginning
to think I didn't! Then the next time I see you, you act like you could care less if I'm dead or alive!
Aaahh!” I cry out in frustration, hitting him again.

He rubs his bicep and curls his lip in anger, “You finished yelling? Or is there more you need to

get out?”

“That's just the beginning!”
“That's what I thought,” his smile is coy, like he knows me so well, which infuriates me even

more. What is it about Jay that makes every emotion I feel wild and uncontrolled? “If you're done for
now, I'd like a turn.”

“I don’t care what you have to say.” Okay, I do, but I'm too stubborn to admit it. Which is a new

trait for me, I've always been overly passive.

“Too bad, because here it goes.” He points a finger at me but stays focused on the road, “I'm mad

at you too!” I start to interrupt but he slaps his hand over my mouth, “No talking. The fact that you
would think I would let them kill you or harm you hurts more than all my scars combined. I do,
however, owe you an apology. I should have listened to myself about not getting involved with you.
Getting involved with you weakened me. I can't have weaknesses in my life; weakness gets you
killed. I let you in and became so overly consumed with you that I slacked. I should have caught on
that I was being followed. If I hadn't been selfish I would have never let you in, and now you're in this
mess for who knows how long, and instead of thinking about my next move all I can think about is
how those asswipes treated you and who I can punish for it, because someone will suffer for what
they did to you, and that's not a distraction I need right now.” Jay stops to take in a deep breath. He
smirks at me, finally removing his hand, “You follow any of that?”

My eyebrows are raised in astonishment, “You've come a long way from my neighbor who

avoids conversation.”

“Well you've come a long way from my sweet, never says a bad word, next door neighbor. You

swear almost as much as I do now.”

“Nobody swears as much as you do.”
Jay grins, “You haven't met Bones yet.”

“Who's that?”
“An old...acquaintance I guess you could say.”
“You would think after all this,” I wave a finger around, “that I would deserve more than vague

answers from you. Yet I know nothing except you're a contract killer who's looking for M...” I trail
off, remembering I'm not allowed to say that name.

“I'm not a contract killer,” he clarifies, “my father was. I only helped him out on jobs. The more

you know, the more complicated this gets. If you ever want to go back to your life, you need to know
as little as possible.”

“Whatever,” I grumble. It's pointless to try and have a normal conversation with him without me

getting irritated and him being vague.

“Are you going to be mad at me all the time now?”
“Pretty much.”
“At least that's cleared up.” I didn't miss his astringent tone that poured out like acid.
“It's the only certain thing between us,” I bite back.
“No, not the only thing,” the side of his lip turns up suggestively, reminiscent of the past.
Ignoring the tickling desire his mouth provokes I cross my arms, determined to not let him get to

me, “Please, what else?” I dare him, wanting him to see that I'm no longer affected by him.

“The way we kiss each other,” the words flow out rich and velvety, forming a coat around my

already flushed skin.

Oh god, he had to bring that up.
“How good we are in bed,” he adds, as if the first response wasn't already turning the car into an

inferno.

“Well, I have nothing to compare it to so I can't confirm.” I remain vigilant in my intent to be

unaffected, or at least appear to be.

“Trust me, it's good.” He moves his head slightly to give me his salacious smile that always

saturates my lower half, which is now clenched in thirst. Damn him.

“Was. It was good,” I point out in spite.
Jay's lips curve down and melancholy sweeps through the air. He is the only person I know that

has the ability to change the earth's atmosphere based on his mood.

“How many women do you have to compare it to?”
“You want a number?”
“Sure.” Why not.
He scratches his scruff. Crap, he actually has to think about it? How big is this number?
He gives me a light shove, “It's only been five so stop looking at me like that.”
I take a second, thinking I heard him wrong, “That's it?”
“Yes, I'm not a complete ass.”
“The jury's still out on that one.”
He makes a grunting noise and we both sit and stew in silence.
I'm glad when we arrive at the shopping center. It felt good to get out of the car and have a brief

moment of distance from him. I lazily stretch as I watch Jay slowly moving his head around, no doubt
scouting the place out.

He moves one row over and stops at an older, black Honda Civic. He uses the slim jim again,

throws our stuff in the trunk, and forcefully pushes me into the passengers seat.

“Are we ever going to stop for food?” I don't mean to sound as whiny as I do, but I haven't eaten

in almost twenty-four hours and that was only a few strips of beef jerky. My brain is foggy and I'm

sluggish in movement, which I'm guessing is bad when you're on the run.

“We'll stop for dinner in a few hours,” Jay says as he starts the car.
Fan-fricking-tastic.
I fight back the tears that are just as hungry as I am.
We drive off and continue our silence.

Chapter 25

1:53pm

The hunger is getting too much to bear. I decide to engage Jay in conversation in hopes of

distracting my ever growing need for food and water.

“Where are we headed?”
“Yuma. I can sort out where we'll go from there.”
I snort.
“What?” Jay asks.
“It's taken me three days to get to a place that's only a few hours from my home.”
Jay laughs, “Yeah, it's been one fucked up road trip.”
“Road trips are something you do when you're having fun,” I snip.
Now the car is filled with silence. The uncomfortable kind, the kind that is awkward because no

one knows what to say next.

Jay turns down the radio station I barely registered was on, “Tell me what questions they

answered about me.”

“Uh, well, your dad was a contract killer who taught you everything he knew and you're after He

Who Must Not Be Named who I have decided to call V.”

“V?”
“After Voldemort.”
Jay throws his head back and laughs. I love the deep, thick openness of it. I smile widely in

return.

“If I call him V, can I ask you about him?”
“No. What else did they tell you about V?” He half sneers, half smirks, like he can't decide if he's

amused or agitated.

“He's called The Marker?” I say it more as a question because I'm not confident in everything I

remember from that day; I was in such a state of shock and fear my mind was a little jumbled.

“To some, yeah.”
“Is that why you call him Mark?”
“Yeah, best way to talk about him in public. Nobody thinks a conversation is strange if they

overhear you talking about looking for someone named Mark. What else?”

I trail my fingers over his scars and his body stiffens, “Did they tell you how I got them?”
I shake my head and drop my hand. “No,” I whisper. “Did he kill your mom?”
“And my dad,” he answers in the same hushed tone.
My heart hurts for him and I place my hand on his thigh. Jay reaches down and entwines our

fingers. Neither one of us says any more, but this time the silence isn't uncomfortable; it's a peaceful
quiet. We still have the ability to find sanctuary in each other, and I'm glad I can give him that.

5:17pm

We still haven't spoken but our hands have remained connected. Jay exits the highway and I suck

in a breath of excitement when he pulls into an In-N-Out Burger.

He rolls down the window, “What do you want?”
“Number two, with a Chocolate shake,” I'm glad no drool escaped when I answer; the aroma of

food has entered the car and it smells heavenly.

I love this place but so does everyone else, and today the long line of cars is killing me. Twenty

minutes later, Jay is handing the bag of food to me. I dig in, stuffing fistfuls of fries into my mouth and
sucking my shake down between chews.

Heaven.
Luckily, I remember to slow it down. After my third mouthful I start pulling out each fry one by

one.

Jay keeps glancing at me as he continues to drive, “When was the last time you ate?”
“Monday afternoon,” I answer, a little muffled from the huge bite of cheeseburger I just took.
He growls, slams his hand on the wheel, and sharply turns his head to me, “Why the fuck didn't

you tell me?”

“I don't want to be more trouble than I already am.” I offer him a fry, which he uses his mouth to

take. Butterflies and tingles shoot through my body. I quickly avert my eyes and focus on my food,
even though my hunger is placed elsewhere now.

“Promise me you'll let me know when you need something, anything.” The way he says anything

all low and husky has my body reacting again and I fiercely suck my milkshake, trying to get past
images of us out of my head. “Promise me, Lily. This mess isn't your fault, it's mine. I need you to
promise me that you'll tell me any time you need something. I don't care what it is.” His sincerity
almost dissolves any restraint I have left, which is getting smaller and smaller.

He has now parked the car and he reaches into the bag on my lap, pulling out his half.
“Okay, I promise.” His smile is huge as he lifts up his sunglasses and is still smiling when he

takes a big bite out of his double-double. “I need a shower and new clothes, like right now. Well not
right now, 'cause I want to finish eating, but can we hit up the Target over there and get some clothes
and stuff?”

“Not a problem, then we're going to take a cab to a nearby hotel. I saw a Days Inn when we

arrived. We'll stay there tonight.”

I do a little happy dance in my seat and eat the rest of my food.

8:13pm

I collapse onto the bed, freshly showered, teeth brushed, in clean pajamas, and vowing to never

take such luxuries for granted again.

Jay is sitting on the opposite bed, going over the papers from the briefcase and using the laptop

he bought at Target (with the mounds of cash stuffing his wallet, I almost choked at the site of it all).

“What's on the USB?” I ask, snuggling into a pillow and contently sighing.
“Everything there is to know about you, and the pictures they have of us.”
I crawl out of bed and join him, moving papers aside to get a better view of what exactly

“everything” means.

All feelings of contentment drain from my body when I realize he means everything, from my

elementary school teachers to the first boy I kissed to the jobs I've had.

How do they even know all this? It's majorly creeping me out.

“Don't worry, I'll find out whoever else has this information and destroy it all, along with anyone

who has seen it,” Jay vows, but it doesn't bring me any comfort.

“I know you said they won't come after my family, but how are you so sure? What if they use

them to get to me to get to you?” I don't even know if that makes any sense, but that's my current fear. I
couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to them because of us.

“In my line of work, we don't get close to people. On the rare occasion we let someone in, they

become a weakness. Anybody who's dealt with my kind knows the only way to get to that person is
through their weaknesses. Going after family members won't matter, only the safety of that person
matters. The only death they will prevent is the person they have let in.”

“Why?”
“You can't survive in this business if you start to care about the lives of others.”
I hear what he is saying but that's not Jay. He may think he's some cold-hearted killer, but I know

he's not. He has so many more layers than that. The rough, hard layer is only his top layer – the
easiest to shed.

“Is there anyone else they will try to use?” Please say no, I would hate to think of anyone else's

life in danger.

He concentrates on the computer, “You’re the only one I've let in.”
“Ever?”
“Yup,” he responds, squinting and leaning in to the screen like this conversation holds little

interest to him.

“What about your Dad?” I continue to study him, because his face may be trying to show

indifference, but his body has tensed and he's concentrating way too hard on the screen.

“I was closer to you,” he scrubs his face, obviously feeling on edge with the conversation, “and

he's dead, so he does them no good. Besides, they'd use him for a job before me any day.”

“But we barely know each other. You lived with your dad your whole life.” There is no way he's

closer to me.

Jay finally looks at me, his eyes a mix of melancholy and something else I can't place, “He knew

what I'm capable of and how my mind works better than anyone, but you know me as a person.”

“So no one really knows you?” I attest as gently as I can, “Because I have to say, you feel like a

stranger to me.” Which is mostly true. I think I love him, but how can I when I know so little about
him?

“Because you think I slept with Sheila?” His eyes grow dim, and his voice has turned crisp.
“No, because you never share anything with me. That only made me hate you,” I heatedly fire

back. Saying it made me hate him is a total lie, but I wish it was the truth. It would make this a little
easier.

“I told you I'd find a way to make it easier for me to leave,” he disputes, even more testy than me.
My blood is starting to boil from remembering that day and the fact that he broke my heart,

thinking it would make him leaving easier on me.

“Well, it didn't.” I scoot closer, poking him in the chest, “It made our time together feel

cheapened, as though I meant nothing to you. I would rather be pining away the rest of my life for
losing...you.” I almost said “the love of my life,” but thankfully my brain and mouth are on par today.

Jay lets out an icy laugh, “I highly doubt you would have been pining forever. Trust me, some

other man will sweep you off your feet and worship you the way you deserve. You'll hardly
remember me one day.”

His arctic demeanor and withdrawn response has me ready to battle and hash this out, “Did I

mean nothing to you?”

Jay goes back to placing his attention on the screen, “I refuse to answer that. You should already

know the answer, and I never slept with her. She came on to me and I pushed her away. I only went to
the party to get shitfaced – which I did. When you assumed, I let you, thinking it would help you forget
about me.”

“I ate like five pounds of chocolate because of that!” I cry, punching him on the arm.
“Hey!” He wails, touching the red spot my fist made on his skin, “Shit, I’m really sorry I ever

showed you how to do that properly.”

I cross my arms, not yet ready to make nice, “I'm not.”
“I know, I have evidence all over my arm,” He grumbles, still rubbing his arm while the other

holds onto a paper he is now reading.

I lean back onto his headboard, “Don't do that to me again, okay?” My voice has become subdued

but I'm sure he hears the underlying ache.

“You have my word. I never want to see that look on your face again. I've never hated myself

more.” He tosses a cell phone on my lap, “You need to call your mom before she has your face
plastered all over the news with missing person slashed across it.”

I rub my thumb over the keypad, “What do I tell her?”
“Tell her they are fearful of your safety and have you under protection until it's safe to return

home. Make it sound like I'm a threat to you.”

“But you're not.”
“That's not what you thought earlier today.”
“I was scared, tired, hungry, and exhausted. I know I'm safe with you. I'm sorry for being such an

ass about it. It's been an overwhelming past few days. I trust you, Jay. I was hurting, and I think I
wanted you to hurt too.”

“I was hurting,” he answers so softly I almost don't hear him.
I ignore the urge to wrap my arms around him and dial my mom's number instead.
On the second ring she picks up, “Hello?”
“Hey, Mom.”
“Lily! I've been going out of my mind with worry. Are you alright? Where are you?” The familiar

sound of my mom's voice has me choking up.

“I'm fine. It's been crazy since I left. They are worried for my safety and moved me to a secret

location. They finally agreed to let me call you under a secure line, but I only have about thirty
seconds left.”

“Are you okay? Are they taking good care of you? I don't need to worry about that killer do I?”
“No, they are more than confident he won't return. It's not his style. They are treating me really

well Mom, please don't worry about me. I'm right where I belong.” I stare into Jay's eyes as I say the
last part, “Everything I desire is here, inches from me, so don't worry, I'm okay. I needed to make sure
you won't worry. They promised I will be home as soon as it's safe for me.”

“I'm so relieved to hear that. I love you, Lily.”
“I love you too, Mom. I won't be able to call Dad, can you let him know how much I love him?

Seth and Cody as well?”

“Of course.”
“Bye, Mom.” I hang up before hearing her response, wiping away a fallen tear.
“You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. I hate that I'm causing them stress and worry.”

“You didn't cause this, I did.” Anger flashes across Jay's face and he falls back onto the

headboard. “I'm so fucking pissed at myself for letting you in. If anything had happened to you...” his
voice cracks and he can't seem to get the last few words out.

I can't stop myself from comforting him. I crawl onto his lap and wrap my arms around his neck.

Jay's body stiffens and he pushes me back.

“Don't. I don't deserve your comfort.” His hands reach for my hips and he gets up to plant me

down on my bed. Thunder forms in his eyes as he towers over me, “You think you want to know more
about me? Fine,” he lifts up his shirt, revealing the angled scar across his stomach, “let's see how
much comfort I deserve after you hear how I fucking got this.” He backs up until his legs hit his bed
and plops down.

“I was sixteen, and a young man not much older approached my dad with a job. He explained that

a few years before, he had escaped an illegal underground cage fighting racket. The sick part of these
fights was they convinced young, troubled, misguided boys to fight. They wanted boys no one would
notice or care had gone missing. It wasn't until they were in the cage they found out it was to the
death. The young man who escaped had killed dozens of boys, and when he got out he vowed to take
down the man who ran the fights and his henchmen. He tried bringing them down legally, but nothing
ever stuck. The leader had been doing it for far too long, and had enough wealth and connections to
not get caught. That's why he came to my dad, but the guy didn't have much money. My dad was the
third guy he tried to hire. He only had thirty-thousand to offer, and a hit that size...” Jay chuckles and
rubs his head, “No hit is done for that little, at least not the men I've met. My dad turned him down,
but the story bothered me. I wanted to help him. When he left, I tracked him down and told him I'd do
the job. I thought I was trained enough to handle it on my own. By that time I had watched my dad on
countless jobs, and helped him out a few times too.

“I figured the best way to get close to my target was to become one of his fighters. I staged a fight

outside a building he had a meeting at, making sure he saw the whole thing. Naturally, he had a few of
his men follow me, so I lead them to the place I was pretending to live homeless. He offered me a
chance to make good money fighting. It wasn't until my first fight and I was out in the ring that he
informed me it was to the death – I already knew that but pretended to be shaken up by it. I easily
fought that night and won.”

He finally looks at me, and the torment in his eyes rips me apart, “He was a fucking child.

Thirteen, maybe. I'm not proud of what I did, Lily. I’m fucking ashamed of it.

“The next night I killed another boy with even more ease.” Jay stops and goes back to staring at

the nightstand. I can tell he's too ashamed to look at me, and I have a hard time not moving to sit next
to him. After several minutes he continues, “For my next fight, they gave my opponent a knife to add
more excitement to it. They wanted to throw me off and have a better show for the spectators. The boy
cut me; that's how I got the scar. It hurt like a motherfucker. It was my first serious injury and it
blinded me for a second, but I was trained well and went into autopilot. I was able to get the weapon
away from the boy and finish him off. The crowd went wild at the bloody mess me and the dead boy
had made. That's when things got crazy as fuck. I was in pain from the cut and tired as hell from
fighting, but that didn't stop them from throwing in another boy. They had given him a pipe and he
tried beating me with it, but I escaped any serious blows. I got hold of the somewhat bent pipe and I
used my thigh to further bend it. I used it to choke the boy from behind. The second another boy
entered I threw the pipe at him like it was a fucking boomerang and it smacked him in the head, dead
instantly from the force of impact,” he sighs and swipes his head, expression tormented as his past
demons swim in his eyes. “The crowd went crazy for me. That's how I attained the name Link.

Between the boomerang shaped scar on my stomach and the way I used that bent pipe to kill those
boys it earned me that name,” he says earned with total disgust and hatred.

“I don't get what that has to do with being called Link?” I keep my voice low and neutral, still

trying to process the kind of life Jay had to endure at such a young age.

“There's a famous video game, and Link, the main character, does some crazy things with a

boomerang. They thought they were fucking geniuses for coming up with that nickname,” Jay sounds
even more disgusted. Now I see why he hates that name so much. I'm sure every time someone uses it
it makes him remember what he did to get it.

Jay has now gone to looking at his hands while he continues the story, “After the fight, his men

brought me to an empty room in the back of the abandoned warehouse the fight was held. They had
someone clean me up and then the leader came to congratulate me. He offered to give me more
freedom if I would fight for him on a broader scale. I sat and talked with him as though I was
interested. When he came to give me a handshake to seal the deal, that's when I got him. I was able to
easily maneuver around him and snap his neck. I got hold of his gun, killing his two guards in a matter
of seconds. I jumped through the glass window behind me to escape – that's where the tiny scars on
my front come from – and as I was making my escape, one of his men shot two bullets in my back.
That's when my dad showed up with a car. I've never before or after seen him that fucking pissed. His
skin was on fire as he drove us the hell out of town. He couldn't believe I'd taken on a job behind his
back and put my life in danger. Looking back, I realized how young and stupid I was.

“Killing those boys fucked me up pretty badly, until I made contact with the young man who had

hired me and found out about the handful of boys that were rescued. I had the guy keep his money, and
he used it to help the remaining boys start a life for themselves. I even sent him most of the money I
had saved. Not saying that makes what I did right, but it helped me not to feel like utter fucking scum
for what I'd done.”

I sit and watch Jay playing with his fingers as I absorb his story.
After some time, he stands up and starts rummaging through our bags, “Now do you understand? I

don't deserve comfort or someone like you.”

“I'm not saying I condone killing, but what you did saved a lot of boys from sharing the same fate.

I don't know anyone who would have done what you did.”

“Yeah, because most people have a fucking conscience and don't have the stomach to kill a

teenage boy. I knew what I had to do the first night I stepped foot in that ring.”

I went over to him and placed my hand on his arm, “Jay, look at me.”
“I need a shower,” he states gruffly, refusing to turn around.
As he goes to the bathroom and starts to close the door, I step closer and tell him, “Thanks for

sharing a part of your past with me.”

“I wish I could tell you everything,” Jay says from the other side, “ but I don't want you hating me

any more than you already do.”

I start to tell him that I could never hate him, but Jay speaks before I do, “Remember when you

found that boomerang in my kitchen drawer? Well, that was a gift from The Marker. He sent it to me
once he heard what I had done and my nickname that doesn't seem to want to go the fuck away. He
sent it to me to antagonize me; everything’s a fucking game to him.”

Jay opens the door. His eyes are bloodshot and his brows seem permanently burrowed together,

“I don't want you knowing about my facial scars or saying his name because it hurts too fucking much
to have you be aware of him. His name on those perfect lips,” his fingers graze across my mouth, “it
kills me.”

He takes a deep breath before dropping his fingers from my lips and retreating back inside the

bathroom.

As soon as I hear the water running, I curl back into bed and cry freely. I cry for Jay and the kid

he never got to be. I cry for how lost and alone he must have felt for most of his life. I cry because he
doesn't realize the amazing man he could be, if only he can forgive himself and move on from his past.

Chapter 26

Wednesday, January 22
1:27am

A loud ringing has me on high alert and my body bolts up to a stiff sitting position, heart pounding

out of my chest.

“It's okay Lily, you're safe.” My eyes make out Jay's silhouette in the dark, illuminated by the

laptop's screen, “It's only Quake’s phone. Stay quiet while I answer it.”

Jay turns it on but remains silent. I can faintly hear a voice talking through the speaker. “What did

you expect would happen? I'd come happily along, skipping to greet you with open arms?...Of course
I fucking killed them. You don't try and come after me like that, I don't respond well to threats. Don't
forget who fucking raised me,” Jay's voice is low but he is seething. It's evident in the waves of fury
rippling off him, vibrating his vocals, “Who else has this information? Don't you dare fucking lie to
me or I will be coming for you, and I'll make sure your death is slow and painful...Oh, Lazra,” he
sighs, turning his voice syrupy, but there is no mistaking the menacing undertone, “you know I don't
make idle threats, and you know what I'm capable of.”

This Jay has my hairs sticking up and fear prickling my skin. He has transformed into a man I

hardly recognize; this is definitely 'Killer Jay'.

There is a long pause while Jay listens, and the air around us has turned heavy and thick. “How

about you tell me who has this information and I agree not to kill you instead?...Fuck The
Marker!...You don't know shit...” Jay lets out a loud, animalistic growl that makes my skin crawl and
pinch together. “What exactly is it you want me to do?” Jay shoots up to standing and starts pacing the
room, “So let me get this straight: you get your goons to find me, stalk my girlfriend, kidnap her, all
for a fucking dagger!?” Jay holds the phone out and is roaring into it. How messed up is it that I
smiled when he said girlfriend? “Of course I'm still in fucking contact with him...no, I wouldn't
have...fine...if you keep your word I won't kill you...done. I'll contact you when I have it.”

Jay lets out another roar, throwing the phone against the wall with such force it shatters into

pieces on the carpet. “Fucking bitch!” He growls under his breath. His hands are now at his hips,
head hung low as he paces all around the room.

“Am I allowed to ask what that was about?” Jay ignores me and continues his crazy loops around

the room.

After ten minutes he stops next to me and leans over so his knuckles rest on the bed, his face

inches from mine. I suck in my breath because it's too dark for me too tell the mood his eyes are in.

“I need you to give me your word that until I get you safely home, you follow every order I give

to you without hesitation.” I nod. “No, say it. I need to hear you say it and mean it.”

“I promise, Jay. I won't hesitate,” I swear it from the bottom of my heart.
“Good, now go back to sleep. We need to get an early start.” He backs to his bed, pulling up his

laptop. I fall asleep to the clicking of his keyboard, too exhausted to let my burning questions keep me
awake for once.

5:15am

“Wake up, time to go,” Jay says shaking my body. I let out a groan of protest, my eyes too heavy

with sleep to open. “Up!” He demands, slapping my ass over the covers.

“Alright, geez.” I sit up, yawning and stretching out my arms, “Where are we headed?”
“San Francisco.”
“Really?” I hop out of bed, “I've never been there!” Excited adrenaline floods through my

system, fully awakening me.

“This isn't a vacation, Lily,” Jay sternly reminds me, and I notice he's already dressed in his

uniform of jeans, gray shirt, black combat boots, and shades. “We are going there to get what Laz
wants so I can get you home.”

I pull out my new clothes, “I know, but I’m still excited to at least see glimpses of it. How are we

getting there?”

“Private jet,” he smirks, and I think he knows a squeal is about to escape me.
“Seriously?!” And yes, I squeal when I say it.
His smirk changes to an amused grin, “Seriously. I had to get us one because we don't have

enough time to drive, and you have no identification to fly on a commercial aircraft.”

“Plus, I'm sure they won't allow the weapons you've stockpiled.”
He grins, “There's that too.”
“Won't that cost a fortune?”
“Don't worry, I can afford it.”
“Because of what you do?”
“No, because of the money my dad left me. He never spent more than the essentials and invested

the rest.”

“Are you rich?”
“Depends on who's standards.”
“Hundreds of thousands? Millions?”
“Sure. Now get dressed.” I can tell by the shift in his tone that this conversation is over.
I go into the bathroom, “Can I take another shower?” I ask through the closed door.
“If it's quick. I want to be at the airport by six.”
“I can definitely manage that. Thanks, Jay.”
“Lily?” I hear the thump of what I assume is Jay's forehead on the door.
“Yeah?”
“Don't forget your promise from last night, okay?” I can't stop the tug at my heart from how

distressed he sounds.

“I haven't, and I won't,” I open the door and my assumption is correct; Jay's body sways a bit

from the door opening. I want to look him in the eyes when I say this and make sure he can see my
unwavering guarantee, “I will never mistrust your loyalty to keep me safe again, you have my word.”

Jay takes hold of the sides of my face with his massive hands and connects our foreheads, “Thank

you.”

“You had your reasons for letting me in and I have mine. Despite everything that has happened or

will happen, it was all worth it for that small, perfect moment in time that irrevocably changed me,
that saved me. That's the Jay I'm trusting my life with, the man that saved me and brought me back to
myself. The man I believe is who you truly are, the one who made love to me and made me feel
valued. The Jay who taught me to stand up for myself and find my voice. That's the Jay I'm promising,
the Jay I trust to keep me alive.”

“I can't be him for you anymore. I need to stay focused.”
“You're being him right now. I'm not asking you to pretend for me. I'm only telling you which Jay

is the reason I'll leap off the Golden Gate Bridge if he tells me to, without hesitation. Not the contract
killer Jay, or the Jay who seeks revenge, but the man who lives in here,” I place my hand over his
heart. “The man you pretend you aren't but I know is the real you. The man you would be if your mom
had never died. I don't have to have known her to know the love and kindness she must have given to
you.”

Jay's eyes are closed as we remain forehead to forehead, his hands still on my face, mine on his

chest, one placed over his heart. His breathing has deepened, and after I watch it rise and fall for the
seventh time I start to back away. Jay's fingers curl into the edges of my hair, locking me in place. His
lips crash against mine, roughly at first, but when I part my lips and our tongues collide it becomes
gentle, sensual caresses of lips to lips, tongue to tongue.

Jay is the first to break contact. I've never been any good at denying my desires for him.
“Take your shower. I'll get our stuff together.” He leaves me dazed and half drunk with wanting

more. I put two fingers to my lips, relishing in how they tingle. Oh my, I’ve missed his kisses and the
state of bliss they leave me in.

Chapter 27

6:30am

We don't arrive at the small, private airport on time because Jay has the taxi driver stop at

Target. He bought us each a pay-as-you-go phone, and he got a San Francisco Giants baseball cap.

“It's smaller than I thought it would be,” I say once inside. The small aircraft only has four over

sized leather seats, two on each side, facing each other with a table in the middle. Behind the chairs is
a private swinging door for the flight attendants.

Jay makes a “humph” sound, “Sorry the private jet I rented isn't good enough for you.”
I whip around and am relieved to see the playful twinkle in his eye. For a second I thought I had

insulted his ego – you never know with men.

“I'm not complaining, I just hope size doesn’t matter and it will still deliver a full VIP treatment.”
Jay takes a glass of champagne that a stewardess brought over, “Here, drink this. Size won't

matter as much and you'll have the ride of your life.”

“Is that a guarantee?” I flirt back, taking a sip of champagne.
The stewardess interrupts us to ask if we are ready to take off, and I try not to pout that our fun

little moment together is ruined. I like playful Jay.

“Yeah, give us 15 minutes. I need to use the Internet.”
“I'll let the Captain know.”
“Can I get you more champagne Mrs. Lincoln?”
I hate the way I blush at her misunderstanding, but I don't correct her, “Yes, please.”
Jay has already taken a seat and I choose the one across from him, wanting to clearly see his

face. He has the table out between us and he is taking our phones out of the packages and turning on
his laptop. I watch him set the phones up. He slides one across the table to me.

“My number is in it. Keep it with you at all times. If for whatever reason we get separated, don't

call until you know you are out of harm's way, and always have the gun I gave you.”

“Yes, boss.” I put the phone into my pocket, “I'd say it's kinda handy having one of these.”
Jay rolls his eyes and holds up a finger, “One good example, but for the first time I'm glad they

exist.”

He puts away his laptop and buckles for take-off.
As the plane ascends, I observe Jay and the white knuckle, iron grip he has over the arm rest,

eyes tightly closed together, every wrinkle on his forehead exposed.

“Are you afraid of flying?” I'm astounded, I didn't think Jay had a fear of anything. He doesn't

respond, but I watch all the color drain from his skin as the plane climbs higher. It's hard to hold back
the huge smile that wants to come out, but I don't want Jay seeing me finding humor over this. I pucker
my lips in and suppress any urges to make some sort of wisecrack.

“Stop it, I feel you wanting to smile,” he says, his voice a little shaky and childlike.
“It surprises me that you have any fears.”
“Let's keep this between us, okay?”
“We wouldn't want to ruin your reputation,” I tease and Jay scowls at me, eyes still clenched

tightly together. “Your Achilles Heel is safe with me.”

This causes Jay to laugh, “I'm not even going to get into the irony of that last remark.”

The captain announces that we are free to roam.
Jay lets out the the biggest puff of air I have ever heard or felt – my hair feels windblown from it.
“So if we start to crash, I'm guessing it's my job to save us?”
“Yup.”
The stewardess comes over with another glass of champagne for me. I could get used to this.
“You ever play cards, Jay?”
“What, like poker? What guy hasn't?”
I gesture for the attendant, “Are there any cards on board?”
She promptly returns with two decks.
I pull them out and shuffle, “No, not poker. I suck at almost any game a casino has to offer. I was

meaning more like Kings Corner or Spite and Malice?”

This causes Jay to laugh again, “Figures.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“It figures you'd like playing some sweet, cute little game.”
My mouth drops open and then I snap it shut. I try to muster up my best poker face, “I take it

you've never played Spite and Malice before?”

Jay scratches his scruff, “Can't say that I have.”
“Well, where poker may be a game of bluffing and skill, this one, well...the name speaks for

itself.”

I can tell by his expression he still thinks we are about to play a game that resembles Sorry or

another cheesy but entertaining family game. Maybe it is, but he's never played an Evans before, and
we play dirty.

10:36am

We are still playing cards and Jay is really getting into it. It's taking everything I have not to jump

over the table and clobber him; he's too adorable when he lets his walls down.

As we descend I kick Jay's foot and he can barely open an eye at me.
“Put your legs all the way out.” I love that he does what I ask without hesitation. His long legs

make it easy for me to tangle ours together, “It will be okay, Jay. We're in this together.”

I didn't think my comment would affect him, but I can feel his body somewhat ease back. Next

time I'll make sure we have adjoining seats so I can cling to him more and give him reassuring rubs.

My stomach drops. There most likely won't be a next time.
Dammit, now I'm depressed. How do I keep letting Jay weave himself in? I really suck at this

whole wall building thing.

“Hey, Jay?”
He grunts and it seems like it's hard for him to manage that. I clamp a hand over my mouth to hold

in a giggle.

“How do you not let a person affect you?”
“It's easy when you don't like people,” his mouth is fastened together and it's hard to understand,

but once I figure it out I laugh.

“Surely you've come across a few you do? Like Malik, for example. How do you keep from

getting attached?”

“I don't know, I just do. I've been doing it since I was a kid. It's not something I have to think

about.”

“Oh,” I chew on my lip, contemplating if I want to keep going. Fuck it, I want to hear what he has

to say, “What about with me, how do you stay closed off?”

The plane jolts as it hits the landing strip and Jay curses, looking like he might lose his breakfast.
My favorite thing about private jets is the minute the plane stops we are free to leave, luggage in

hand, and a taxi is waiting for us close by. Flying will never be the same again.

Before getting in the cab, Jay pulls out the Giants baseball hat and sunglasses. He takes hold of

my hair, stuffing it all inside the hat, and puts the sunglasses on me.

“I don't want anyone knowing what you look like. The only time you are allowed to be without it

is inside the hotel room. Got it?”

“Yup,” I answer before ducking into the taxi.
Jay tells the driver to take us to the Hyatt Regency in the Embarcadero Center. I stare out the

window, taking in as many of the sights as I can.

Jay leans over to whisper in my ear, “To answer your question from before – staying closed off

from you is impossible. Having to walk away from you ripped my fucking heart out.”

Oh my. I wish I had the perfect response to tell him, but words fail me. All I seem capable of is

watching the city go by and feeling overwhelmed with how to absorb his remark. From the day I met
him our relationship has been a roller coaster that has turned my world upside down. It launched full
speed into steep uphills and even more intense downward descents, full of loops, twists, and turns
that have left my head spinning. I'm in a constant state of adrenaline, excitement, and fear. It leaves me
wondering if this ride will ever end, or if I even want it to.

At check-in, the front desk calls me Mrs. Lincoln and I smile all the way to our room, where we

drop off our stuff. Jay goes into the hall to make a private phone call. And yes, I press my ear to the
door like an immature teenager trying to hear the latest gossip. Unfortunately, I can barely make out
what he's saying.

The door swings open and I land in Jay's arms.
“Remind me to teach you how to be a better spy,” he chuckles, hoisting me back up. “You

hungry?”

“For hotel food or San Francisco food?”
“We're in San Francisco, they're the same thing.”
“No they're not.”
“I'm guessing you want San Francisco food?”
“My husband knows me so well,” I mean it as a joke but it falters as I watch Jay jerk back in

alarm.

“Chill.” Man, I'm really bad at banter. “I was only teasing because of how everyone keeps

calling me Mrs. Lincoln.”

Jay swipes his head a few times and brushes past me, “It was easier to give us the same last

name.”

Ouch, he didn't have to sound so irritated by it. I seriously only meant it as a joke. Jay's mood

swings are incredibly frustrating. He continually makes me second guess his feelings for me. It leaves
me wondering if it's because he hasn't figured it out for himself yet.

Jay takes off his shirt and throws it at me, “Put this on.”
I'm momentarily immobile as I take in the sight of Jay's glorious, muscular, chest and abs. Images

of what it's like to touch and taste him surface to the front of my mind.

Dammit.

I don't need those kind of thoughts right now.
He pulls another shirt out of his bag and puts it on, followed by his dark olive cargo jacket that

nicely hides his weapons.

“Why am I wearing this?” I ask.
“To hide your body. A person's frame can be as easy to remember as a face.”
I take off my hat and shades, placing them on a bed. I pull off my shirt and put on Jay's, inhaling

his scent as the material cascades down. It causes an ache in my chest from missing the smell of being
cuddled in his arms.

“Why do you get a clean shirt, and I have to wear one you already wore?” I look down at how I

swim in the shirt, then back at Jay who is staring at me. His eyes are blazing in a familiar heat and a
half smile tugs at my mouth, glad that he's also affected by seeing me topless. I only wish I was
braless to really spice things up. “This isn't going to work, Jay. Your shirt is way too big on me.”

He's still staring at me, “Jay?”
He averts his eyes, clearing his throat, “Yeah, I guess we'll have to pick something up for you.”

He grabs the keycards, “Lets go get some lunch and I'll fill you in on what's going to happen today.”

“You mean I get to know?”
“A few details, yeah.” He hands me back the hat and shades, “Let's go, I'm starving.”
We take a cab to Fisherman's Wharf and Jay buys me a cheesy tourist sweatshirt from a street

vendor. It's a pale pink large (I'm usually a small), with a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge and “I
left my heart in San Francisco” written in cursive across it. Needless to say, I've never looked hotter.

“It's beautiful here,” I gush, removing my sunglasses and placing them next to Jay's on the table. I

stare out the window of Scoma's where we stopped for lunch. A light drizzle has started and fog is
still hovering over the bay. I already love it here and can't wait to return to really take in all this city
has to offer.

“It's one of my favorite cities in the US.”
“Have you come here often?”
“When I was a teenager I lived here for about six months, and I've been back a few times after

that.”

“Did you like always having to change locations growing up?”
“Never bothered me. I never went to school so I didn't have to worry about making friends. I've

been all over the world and almost every major city this country has to offer, and I'm only twenty-
five.”

“Why'd you pick Mesa this time?”
“The race track. Not all tracks allow drifting because of the beating the road takes. The owner of

that place likes what we do and wants to get a buzz going. He's hoping not to have to sell it and make
it into a popular place for drifters to come and race. When I heard about it, I knew that was the next
place I had to go live. Being able to drift is one of the things I miss most when I'm in a new place.”

“Can't you find curvy roads to do it on?”
“Sure, but not all places have anything worth driving. Some places have underground racing, but

I can't stand that shit. It's too 'my penis is bigger than yours' crap.”

“Well you'd win that contest no problem.” I wasn't trying to flirt. The words fell out, but I loved

watching Jay's cheeks redden. “Are you blushing?” Now I can't help but tease him.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, focusing down at the table, the rest of his face growing red.
It's rare to see Jay being bashful. It warms my heart and my legs extend to give his a playful

nudge. As I bring my legs back up he loops his in with mine. They stay locked together, making a

thousand tiny butterflies shoot off inside my belly.

“So what's the plan for today?” I ask, because I'm starting to get nervous and flustered feeling and

I don't want to be.

That snaps Jay back to reality and his walls go back up. He unhooks his legs from mine and sits

up straighter. I knew that's what he would do. Even though that's what I wanted because it hurts too
much to only get little pieces of him, it still left my body longing for more.

“We're going to Cole Private Bank and Trust, where I will meet with a man who has what I

need.”

“The dagger,” I add, which makes Jay's upper lip sneer.
“Fuck you’re nosy.”
“Because I listen to a conversation you're having in the bed next to mine?” I snap. I can't believe

he's irritated at me over this. “I can bet anybody else would have done the same. And don't get mad at
me because you're too afraid I know more than you want me to. Get over it.”

Jay works his jaw back and forth a few times before continuing, “Fine, yeah, we need this dagger

from him.”

“What's so special about it?” I ask as the waiter comes over, placing our clam chowders on the

table.

“Some kind of sentimental crap.”
“I thought you guys didn't get sentimental.”
“We do over weapons.”
“How sweet.”
Jay grins at my sarcasm and starts eating his soup, which is delicious. We are silent for awhile,

each having an intimate moment with our food.

“You'll wait in the bank lobby,” Jay informs me, finishing off his bowl, “I won't be long, and you

can't leave the building. You will be safe as long as you don't-”

“I'm not going with you?”
Jay growls in irritation, “Stop interrupting me. And no you're not.”
“Is the person you're meeting bad?”
Jay scratches his scruff and doesn't explain more until our bowls are cleared and our Crab

Louie’s are put in their place.

“Bad is such a broad term. Who he is is complicated. He's not good or bad, he deals with both.”
“Why can't I go with you?”
“How many times do I have to tell you I don't want you involved in my life,” Jay curses when he

sees the hurt on my face. He reaches over the table and takes a hand in both of his, “I didn't mean it
like that. The more people who know about you, the more stressed I get. You not meeting anyone is
for your safety and my peace of mind.”

I want to tell him that I want to be involved, even if that means I can never return home and I get

to be with him, but I know over time I would miss my family (Naomi and Stevie included).

He moves his hands back and we eat our crab salads. This is the first time I've had crab and it's

definitely on the top of my list of best things to ever enter my mouth. Jay being at the top, followed by
pumpkin pie, then would have to be this crab. I want to have a love affair with this crab.

After we finish, I glance over the dessert menu and look up to find Jay intently staring at me. He's

studying my face the way he used to when we first met.

“What?” I ask, longing starting to whirlpool in my core.
“Still trying to figure you out.”

I laugh, “I'm about as easy as they come.”
Jay leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, “In some ways, yeah, you're

everything you appear to be: sweet, nurturing, naïve, but there are parts of you that are in another
dimension compared to most people. If you love someone you look past their faults and flaws, where
most people dwell on them and use it against them. It isn't always in your favor, but you don't let that
stop you. You can't reign in your emotions; when you feel something, you feel it, in every fucking part
of you. I love that about you. I'm jealous you feel so freely and powerfully. You're not afraid of your
emotions, you own them, and I have mad fucking respect for that.”

My heart is in full hammer mode and swelling so much in size it might break a bone. I wish I

could see myself through Jay's eyes because I want to be that person. “I'm afraid of what I feel for
you,” embarrassed at my honesty, I go back to looking out the window.

“Being afraid of an emotion and not letting yourself feel it is different. It may scare you, but you

don't stop it. You let the emotion in and every concern that goes with it, no matter how scary or
terrifying it is. I'm trying to figure out how you can feel that much but still be so strong.”

I snort, “I'm not strong-”
“Yes, you are,” he cuts me off and my head moves back to view him. The whirlpool starts again

when I see the admiration in his eyes, “You may not be packed full of muscles or good at hiding your
emotions, but you're strong, Lily.”

I roll my eyes and Jay's features harden, “You were able to walk away from a man you loved and

trusted after he betrayed you by hitting and raping you. Four men attack you, another two kidnap you,
and none of it destroyed you.”

I cringe, he makes it sound more horrific than it really was. “That's not true,” I say, earning

another scowl from him, “I let Will control me for two years. I let him destroy the woman I was
before we met.”

“Yeah, but you fucking got her back, and I would bet every cent I have that you're an even better

version of who you once were.”

“Thanks to you,” I softly say.
Jay shakes his head, “I had nothing to do with it. No one can heal another, you have to be able to

heal yourself. Only one's own strength can truly make the right changes to heal and grow.”

“I disagree. Maybe I would have found myself again, but you made me better. I wouldn't be who I

am right now if it wasn't for you. I don't think it's a bad thing to allow a person in to help heal you.
You had what I needed to restore, you offered parts of yourself that made me change for the better.
So, yeah, I disagree. We can't always work everything out for ourselves, and sometimes need the
guidance of another. It's not bad to find strength in another person, Jay,” am I talking about myself or
him? Somehow this conversation has turned into me scolding him, “It doesn't have to be a weakness
to let people in.” Yeah, okay, I'm definitely scolding, “The only reason you admire my over-
emotional brain is because you fight so hard to control yours. The only emotions you freely give are
ones that come in the form of hatred and anger. If you took the chance to let someone in I bet they
would change you. In a sense you're right, the person has to want the change, but another person still
has the ability to guide them, make them view things in a different light. You did that for me and I
wish you'd let me do the same for you.”

Jay looks pissed and once again I should have kept my mouth shut. “You did fucking do that for

me,” his voice is low and gruff as he sneers the words out, “but it's not as simple for me. I don’t know
how to deal with emotions and still stay strong. It's easier to shut down and get shit done, especially
when you're killing a man with your bare hands. That's not something you want to fucking dwell on.

Not everyone has the luxury to feel every fucking emotion that passes through them.”

Fuck keeping my mouth shut, I'm sick of feeling guilty for his mood swings, “Now you're using it

as an insult? Which is it, Jay? Do you like that I'm emotional or is it a nuisance? I get too many mixed
messages from you.”

“Why does every conversation have to end in a fucking argument now,” he scans the dessert

menu, “We're never going to be us again, are we?”

“I'm not really sure if we have the same definition of us, but if you're talking about how we were

before you left, it's impossible,” I watch Jay's brows scrunch together and his jaw lock, “It can't be
like that because you won't let it. You're trapped in your head and have convinced yourself for too
long that you can never let anyone in. Your life is about revenge, and as soon as this is over you'll
leave me again. I don't think you realize how badly it hurt that you left me so easily, and right after we
made love. Maybe I was just a good fuck to you, but it meant more to me. That's why we fight now.
I'm sick of your bullshit, sick of the secrets, sick of you pushing me away, and sick of remembering
every fucking day what it feels like to be in your arms.”

“You finished?” He growls.
“Yup.” I'm tired of fighting too. Real tired. In fact, right now I'm exhausted and wish I could curl

up in my bed at home and sleep for the next month or two.

Jay pulls out his wallet and throws down a hundred, “Lets go.”
“Do you ever wait for the bill?” I ask, feeling cranky now.
Jay stands up and holds his hand out to help me up, “Don't have the fucking patience for it.”
I sidestep his hand and walk past him, “You waste a lot of money that way.”
“True, but I probably made the waiter's day with that tip.”
We are outside now and walking across the mini bridge to where the city's bustling with tourists

and people on their lunch break.

I come to a halt, making Jay crash into my back and causing him to curse.
I whip around and poke his chest, “That right there. People with no hearts don't give two licks

about making a waiter's day with a tip.”

He takes in an agitated breath, removes my hand, shoves my sunglasses back on my face, and

hails a taxi. We sit in silence the whole ride to the bank, and I'm too grumpy to enjoy the sights or
even remember what I saw.

When we enter the building Jay leads us to the right, where they have a waiting area. We sit on

opposite leather chairs, facing one another.

“You wait here. Don't move from this spot until I get back.”
I don't answer. I'm too busy observing the inside of the place, taking it all in. It's definitely a bank

for the wealthy. All the chairs surrounding us are a rich brown leather; you can smell their
authenticity. The columns are made of dark woods and the floor a beautiful marble. Then there are the
customers: women dressed in designer clothes and accessories, decorating themselves with jewelry
that blinds you. Men with well groomed physiques, fitted suits, and freshly shined shoes.

“Are you listening to me?” Jay asks, sounding peeved.
“Stay here. Got it.” I don't look at him, continuing to seem enthralled with the place.
After fifteen minutes of us silently sitting, I finally look at Jay. He has his shades up and is

scorching me with his eyes. I pretend I don't feel them burning holes into me, “Don’t you have to let
them know you're waiting?”

“No,” his voice is level, and he's hardly blinking as he continues to narrow in on me, “He knew I

was here the minute we stepped through the door.”

I turn to view the door and see four different cameras angled at the entrance, “How does he know

you're looking for him?”

“I've known him my whole life. Even if I hadn't, he never forgets a face he's worked with.”
I start to ask more questions – despite how pissed off I know it will make him – but four men in

identical suits stop a few feet from Jay.

No words are exchanged. Jay gets up and follows them to the back of the bank, where they

disappear behind a door.

Chapter 28

2:39pm

It's been forty-five minutes since Jay left me and I'm so freaking bored. If I had known it would

take this long I would have brought a magazine or book.

“Holly Montoya?” A man clears his throat, “Miss Montoya?”
Oh, right, that's me.
I forgot that's the name Jay told me he will be using. It makes me feel like a stripper.
“Sorry, daydreaming,” I smile up at the man who looks like your average business man, except

for the earpiece he's wearing.

“Please come with us ma'am.”
That's when I notice another man in an identical suit standing nearby with the same earpiece.
“No thanks, I'm cool right here,” I airily breeze out, giving them my most friendly smile.
The man's features harden and he takes a step forward, “Mr. Cole is asking to meet you.”
“I'll wait here for him,” I sweetly reply. I have no clue who Mr. Cole is and there is no way I'm

not following Jay's orders. Why did he leave me out here alone?

“We have strict orders to bring you to his office where he and Mr. Lincoln are having a meeting.”
“I'm not moving from this spot without Mr. Lincoln,” I inform them, my face imploring them to try

and make me do otherwise.

The other man steps to his partner's side and whispers in his ear.
“Mr. Lincoln wants you to know it's safe to follow us, Ms. Evans,” He responds coolly, like

saying my real last name makes me trust him.

“Well Mr. Lincoln can come tell me himself,” I raise a brow and cross my arms, hoping they will

finally understand I'm not moving.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, startling me, and I pull it out, “Hello?” I don't know why I

sound uncertain, only one person has this number.

“Follow the men, Lily. Vault wants to meet you,” Jay clips before hanging up.
I stay where I'm at, chewing my bottom lip, contemplating if it's safe or not. The phone, still in

my hand, rings again. When I hit answer I don't speak, only wait for Jay to talk.

“I wouldn't send you up here if it wasn't safe.”
Click.
I slowly stand, growing more nervous and uneasy with every step as I'm escorted to the door I

watched them take Jay. It leads to a room with elevator doors on each side. A third one directly
across from me looks like it's a door made of gold, which I'm sure it's not. No one would have an
elevator door made out of gold, would they? Etched on the elevator in black is a vault's spindle
wheel.

The next thing I know one of the men is patting me down, removing my hat, glasses, phone, and

gun. When he goes to rub down my breasts I smack his hand away.

“Don't even think about it.”
“Ma'am, I have to check every part of you or you don't go up.”
I cross my arms over my chest, “Then I don't go up.”
Probably not the best idea to get snotty with two armed men who just took possession of my

weapon.

The man places a hand to his earpiece. He looks to the other man and they both give a curt nod as

if in agreement. The other man has his hand scanned and punches in a code on a screen to the right of
the gold elevator. The one who frisked me does the same and then he tightly grips my wrist and places
it to scan mine.

He drops my wrist and I rub it, “You didn't have to be that rough. I would have done it if you told

me to.”

“All due respect ma'am, but I don't think you would have,” he's smirking at me, seeming amused,

and it makes me smile.

“You're probably right.”
“You've never dealt with Vault before, have you?”
“No, why?”
“You're in his house, you follow his rules,” now he seems anything but amused and forcefully

pushes me inside. Once the door shuts we have our other hand scanned and the two men enter in a
code again. There are no buttons to indicate a floor but it seems to be going all the way up.

“How did it know my hand?” I ask, because it's kind of freaking me out.
They don't respond. Big surprise.
The elevator finally stops and the door opens. We get out, me between the two men. The hallway

we go down is short and the only door is at the end of the hall, where two men stand guarding it.
When we approach, one of the guards opens the door and we walk in.

Inside is a waiting room and two women behind desks facing one another. The men keep walking

and the two women don't even glance in our direction. The room actually has a homey feel, but I can't
help having a sense of eeriness in response to it; everyone is too calm and quiet, it has me on edge.

I don't have time to take in my surroundings, because the minute I walk through the door all I can

focus on is Jay standing in front of a wall of screens, fiercely staring me down. The door clicks shut
behind us and he begins tromping toward me. I stand there wide-eyed as he comes at me, looking like
he's about to eat me alive. I can't tell if it's sexual in nature or anger, and I hope it's option number
one.

I stay unmoving the closer he gets. The whole moment feels in slow motion to me but I know it's

all happening at a fast pace.

Jay doesn't slow down when he reaches me and for a second I fear he's going to tackle me. His

body crashes into me, and an arm wraps around my waist. We begin stumbling back from the impact
and collide with the wall. Jay's other hand is supporting my head to prevent it from getting smacked
from the collision. His lips immediately crush mine, making them immobile. He stays compressed to
them a half a second more before letting my mouth go, but doesn't make a move to let the rest of me
go. His eyes are burning with a hunger I recognize, but there's also a flick of irritation.

“Damn baby, I don't know whether to fuck you or spank you,” he mutters, staring down at our lips

that are faintly touching.

“Yes to the first,” I pant out, my breathing getting heavy from wanting this man, “and you spank, I

spank.”

This gets a low groan in the back of his throat as he looks at me under hooded lashes, like he

can't decide if he wants to look at my mouth or my eyes. A slight grin twitches the corner of his mouth,
“I wouldn't put it past you, my little firecracker. We could have some fun with that. ”

A smile breaks out across my face and his lips brush against mine before he continues, “I wasn't

sure why you weren't going with Vault's men and then I realized you weren't moving because I told

you not to,” he pauses to take in a breath of air and to drink me in. “Fuck, baby, I got hard off that,
knowing you refused to leave because I told you not to.” His lips slash across mine again.

“Why do you want to spank me?” I breathe into his mouth, not wanting to ever have our lips stop

touching.

“Because we're in Vault's house and you do whatever the fuck his men tell you to, not fight them

on every little thing,” he stops to grin at me, “I was relieved to see your stubbornness isn't reserved
for only me.”

“Jay,” I hear a man speak not too far from us and it startles me – I thought we were alone with the

way Jay tackled me to the wall. “My men are waiting for you to finish inspecting her.”

He gently places my feet to the ground, and while he does this I see his whole demeanor change.

His body hardens and his eyes become withdrawn and restrained. He takes hold of my hand and
moves in front of me, making his body block mine.

I see a man standing in front of the wall of screens Jay had previously been. He is insanely

gorgeous. I would guess he's in his late thirties. His hair is blond and hits his shoulders at the same
level mine does. Normally longer hair on a guy isn't my thing, but on this man it only adds to his
sexual appeal. His eyes are an arctic blue that seem to pierce right through you. His bottom lip's fuller
than the top, making you want to bite down on it and suck. He's dressed in a suit and tie that fits him
like a glove. A hot, sexy, glove.

“Vault, I told you, she's cool. She's not like us, she doesn't have anything in her bra.”
“Humor me,” he demands in the least humorous voice I have ever heard.
Jay turns enough to view me, “You got any weapons in that bra of yours?”
I open my mouth to lie, but words don't seem to want to come out.
“Shit, Lily! What the fuck do you have?”
I sheepishly reach down my sweatshirt and pull out one of his throwing stars that I had wrapped

in enough cloth not to poke me. Jay looks shocked and I hear the Vault guy chuckle.

“Got any more in there sweetheart?” Vault asks.
My cheeks redden as I pull another one from the other side and Jay's jaw drops.
“You're killing me, babe,” Jay's jaw is grinding back and forth, and at first glance I think he's

pissed but his lips keep jerking upwards holding back a smile.

The two men who escorted me in step forward and I hand them over. The one who frisked me

doesn't look too pleased and darts a nervous glance at Vault. He points a finger in my face, “Pull a
stunt like that again and I put a bullet through your fucking head.”

Jay immediately stands between us, “Get your motherfucking finger out of her face, or you won't

have a hand to pull that trigger with, got it?”

“Did you forget who's house you're in?” The man snarls, “We took your weapons, what the fuck

are you going to do?”

Faster than I can blink, Jay has the man in a choke hold and the guy's revolver jammed into his

temple. The other guard draws his gun and points it at Jay as three other men enter the room with guns
all aimed at him.

Wow, shit just got intense, fast. I place a hand on my pounding heart, which catches the attention

of one of the men who now as a gun aimed at me. Like a bad action movie, my hands flatten out and
come out to the side of my face in surrender. It didn't cross my mind moving my hand might make them
think I was...what? Going for a gun or something?

Jay notices the gun aimed at me, “Vault, tell your fucking men not to point a fucking gun at her or

I'll take you all out.”

“We all know you're not stupid enough to shoot me,” Vaults says.
Jay cocks the gun, “Try me.”
Vault laughs, “Damn, you've got it bad. Leave, guys. It's cool here.” His guards don't back down,

“Leave!” They reluctantly retreat and Jay lets go of the man and hands him his gun.

“Your security sucks, Vault. I could have had both this dude and you shot before the others came

in, and I'd have them down by now too.” The man snatches the gun and angrily leaves.

Vault and Jay are facing each other, eyes cold, and then they both start grinning.
“My offer still stands: Head of Security is yours whenever you want it.”
Vault gestures to the couches he has in the center of the room, and I take the opportunity to look

around his office as we walk over to them. It's just as expensive looking as the lobby. To the left of
the couches is a wall of security screens, with two closed doors on each end. To the right is a
wooden wall, with one large piece of artwork taking up most of it and another closed door at the far
right. Behind the couches is a desk, and instead of a wall behind it it's one long window overlooking
the city.

Still holding my hand, Jay and I sit on the couch, opposite Vault. Jay puts his arm across my body

and rests his hand between my legs, cupping under the middle of my thigh, making it sit on his fingers.
It almost feels like Jay is having his arm be my armor, which it almost could be considering it's size. I
have to sit up straight in order to see around his bicep. I feel like a child and I force it to move. I have
his elbow rest on the top of thigh. I move his hand and clasp it between both of mine, giving it
reassuring rubs with my thumb.

Before Vault sits he extends a hand out to me, “We haven't been probably introduced yet. I'm

Benedict Cole, but in Jay's world I'm known as Vault.”

I accept his hand and firmly shake it. I'm about to say my name but I stop to look at Jay, not sure

what name he wants me to use.

“He already knows who you are, and now he's got your damn hand print,” he gruffly responds to

my silent question.

I give Vault a friendly smile, “Lily Evans. Are you the president of the bank? Is that why they call

you Vault?”

Vault takes a seat and Jay shoots me a warning glance but I pretend not to see it.
“No sweetheart, I own the bank. I pay morons to run it for me.” I love the way he says

sweetheart; it's extremely sensual and seductive, “I got the name Vault because I know a lot of
people's dirty little secrets and I keep safe what ever it is a person from Jay's world wants kept safe.”

“Like people?”
Vault chuckles, “No, they don't give a shit about people. I'm talking money, or things worth a lot

of money.” Vault focuses in on Jay, “Did you not tell her anything about me?”

“No.”
“He never wants to tell me anything.”
Jay curses and gives me a “shut your trap” glare but I pretend not to see that too.
“The scar on your temple,” I feel Jay's body stiffen and his hand squeezes mine but I still

continue, “Did you get it from the same person as Jay?”

Vault's eyes cloud over in gloom, “Yeah, same night Jay's old man died and he got his third

mark.”

“Fuck, Vault!” Jay cries, “She doesn’t know about that shit.”
Vault's head ticks back, “You never told her about your scars?”
“No.”

“Why the hell not?”
“You know why. Don't forget the real reason you got that mark.”
Vault curses, rubs the scar in the same manner I've seen Jay do countless times, gets up, and goes

over to a drink cart to the left of the entry door. He pours himself a glass of hard amber liqueur out of
a crystal decanter and knocks it back.

“You know better than anyone why it's better not to let people in.”
Vault sits back down, “She still has a right to know. Her not knowing could be more harmful than

knowing.”

“How do you figure that?”
“Make her understand why your sorry ass can't get past this need for revenge. Maybe she'll help

you realize there's more to life than killing Dragoni and you can start living it.”

“I can't do that. A lot of innocent people die because of him. It's more than revenge. Someone like

him needs to be six feet under, and I'm the only one with enough balls to do it.”

“No, my brother, you're the only one still alive trying. You keep going the way you have for the

past decade and you'll be dead before you reach thirty. Or you quit this shit, come work for me the
way your old man kept wanting you to, and have a chance at a decent life.”

“So I can wait here like a sitting duck, ready to be killed when he comes here to do business?”
“You think after Susanna I would let him near my fucking place?” Vault's tone is level as he

speaks; he seems to have more control over his emotions. Probably from dealing with men like Jay,
men who react violently before thinking it through. “There is only one thing I ever had of his anyway,
and it's the same object you're inquiring about.”

The room stills and it feels like Jay just sucked in all it's air. He roars out a slew of curse words

and starts pacing the room. It's in his usual manner of head hung low and hands on his hips. He starts
muttering more curses directed at Laz.

He stops behind me and the angry heat pouring out of his skin makes me feel like I'm in a sauna,

“You have any clue why Laz wants it?”

“I'm assuming it's part of a plan to set Dragoni up and have a chance at killing him. She's the only

other person crazy enough to try, but she doesn't have half a brain to her.”

“What's so fucking special about this dagger?”
“He never said, just paid my father a shitload of money to keep it safe. That was over twenty

years ago.”

“Motherfucking Laz!” Jay roars, throwing a lamp across the room and shattering it against the

wall. Neither Vault or I flinch; he seems as used to Jay's tantrums as I am.

Every inch of skin on Jay is inflamed in a red I thought only severe sun burns can cause as he

starts pacing the room again. Vault seems used to this too and goes to pour us both a drink. We sit
quietly, letting Jay think things through. I take a sip and instantly know it's whiskey. However, this one
doesn't taste like the cheap stuff Stevie drinks. It coats my throat and lingers on my tongue as it
smoothly goes down, making it easy to distinguish the different spices and the subtle hint of vanilla.

Jay stops at the entry door and finally starts talking to Vault again, “You giving me this dagger is

going to piss him off.”

Vault lazily takes a drink from his crystal tumbler, “Yes. It will.”
“Why'd you say I could have it then?”
“Two reasons. The first being I need that file, and the second being once he knows Laz has it,

he'll go after her and then come for me. You know where Laz lives and you know where I live. If you
aren't willing to forget this revenge crap, I'll give you an opportunity to finally get him.”

“Why would you do that for me?”
He grins, “You're the only one with enough balls to pull it off and not get killed, and honestly, I

want that fucker dead for what he did to my Susanna.”

“I thought you said going after him would get me killed?”
“I'm offering you the home court advantage.”
A slow, vengeful smirk spreads across Jay's face, and his eyes darken in malicious evil. How

sinister he could look used to make me frightened, but now it just breaks my heart. What could make
someone as tender and sweet as Jay turn into a blackhearted beast?

“Let him kill off Lazra. You'll know the minute he does and you'll know he's headed here next.”
“And in return, all I have to do is get that file for you?”
“Yes.”
“A file is worth Dragoni coming after you?”
“The minute I give you that dagger I won't be leaving this building. I'll go on lockdown. He'll

have a hard time reaching me in here.”

“Won't stop him, he'll find a way in.”
“Yeah, and you'll be ready for him.”
Jay starts pacing again and Vault refills our glasses.
He stops again at the door, “If this doesn't work, we're both dead.”
“Then it better work.”
“Fuck,” Jay utters under his breath. His head moves and seems startled to see me sitting on the

couch, like he forgot I was here.

“You're ignoring this entire conversation right?”
“No.” Far from it, but I'm not stupid enough to tell him that. He furiously glares at me and I return

the gesture. Did he seriously think I wouldn't be hanging on to every word spoken?

Vault laughs and gets the same look in return.
Vault rests an arm on the back of the couch, “Listen, Link-” Jay scowls. “Sorry, Jay. Forget about

all this. Come work for me, and I'll make sure your girl stays safe.”

Jay comes over and places his knuckles on the armrest next to Vault and looks him straight on, “If

I work for you I will be your little bitch, having to do whatever the fuck you ask me. I was raised to
be a free agent. Your shit would get old real fast.”

“Think about it.” Vault stands up and walks to his desk. He speaks into the speakerphone on his

desk, “I'm ready for the papers.” He looks back at Jay, “Either way, you're getting me that file. Now,
would you please come take a seat and we can get the paperwork started before you leave.” He
gestures to the two empty chairs in front of the desk.

Jay moves and takes me by the hand. At the exact moment we sit down, one of the women I saw

out front is handing Vault some papers.

Once she retreats back to the other side of the door and it's completely closed, Vault places the

papers in front of me.

“My assistant has marked everywhere you need to sign and date. When you're done, hand them to

Jay to sign.” He hands me a pen and I reluctantly stare down at it.

“What am I signing?”
Vault opens his mouth, but Jay cuts him off, “Sign it, Lily, it's fine. Trust me.”
“Why?” I try reading what it says but Jay covers it with his hand.
“Please baby, I need you to sign these papers.”
I hate when he calls me baby because it turns me into mush and there isn't anything I wouldn't do

for him.

I start signing on every place marked, “Another thing you don't want me knowing but expect me to

trust you on, huh?” I angrily finish, my pen digging into the paper by the time I'm done, and hand them
over to Jay, “Are you ever going to trust me? Or am I some helpless little girl who's too dimwitted to
understand your secret life?”

Jay begins to sign, “None of this has to do with me not trusting you. It's about me keeping you

safe and away from my life, and I think I've made it clear I don't think you're any of those things.” He
slides the papers across to Vault, “I need this done as soon as possible. Take what you want from my
account to make sure that it does. Don't veer from the instructions I gave you. If something's not going
to work, contact me and we'll come up with what to do together.”

Vault nods and heads for the door, “Think about my offer, and come back with my file and an

answer.” He opens the door and gives me a dimpled smile that I'm sure gets him into the bed of any
woman he wants, “It was lovely meeting you, Lily. I won't be forgetting you. You're the first person to
enter this office with a weapon since I took over this business from my father ten years ago. As
amusing as I found it, I would advise you not to let that happen again. I don't care if you're Jay's girl
or not, I won't stop my men from shooting you.”

Jay grabs my hand and we make our way to the door, “Back off, Vault. She doesn't know how

things work, and I never told her who I was meeting or she would have known it was a bad idea.”

Vault makes a “tsk-tsk” sound with his tongue, “You're underestimating her, Jay. I think she

understood completely. Isn't that right, sweetheart?”

I nervously lick my lips and sneak a peak at Jay before answering, “Sort of.” Jay's hand tightens

around mine and I feel his eyes penetrating me, “I didn't know I could get my head shot for it, or yeah,
I would have never done it, but I also didn't know where I was going and if it was safe.”

Jay curses, “I told you on the phone it was safe.”
I look guiltily at him, “It wasn't until we got in the elevator that I remembered, and I decided not

to say anything in case you needed them. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“You did that for me?” He sounds in disbelief, like no one has ever had his back before.
I look back at him, confused that he would think I wouldn't, “Yeah, baby, of course I did.”
Jay's mouth falls open, then he snaps it shut. He does it again in complete shock.
I focus back on Vault, “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Cole. It wasn't my intention to offend you. I

honestly was worried about Jay. It won't happen again.”

“I look forward to seeing more of you. I'm glad Jay found someone who takes care of him,” he

winks at me, and in return I blush because he made me feel like his words were implying more than
one thing. “He's a good man. I'm hoping you'll be the one to help him realize it.”

So do I.
Seven guards appear to escort us to the elevators. I giggle and Jay looks down at me, curious

about what I find so funny. I nod to the men who are surrounding us as we walk and he lets out a
snicker.

As low as I can I whisper under my breath, “I think you make them nervous.”
Jay throws his head back and laughs, causing all seven heads to zero in on us, ready to take us

out.

Jay leans down to rest his lips against my ear, “Right back at you, babe. Vault wasn't lying when

he said no weapons make it past his security. You're just sweet and innocent enough looking to pull it
off. It's fucking hot.”

We have our hands scanned outside the elevator and again inside. I'm the only one who doesn't

enter a code. I silently ask Jay why with my eyes, and I'm surprised when he opens his mouth to
respond.

“Anyone who does business with him or his staff has a personal code to go with their hand

print.”

“Why do I need mine scanned?”
“Security measures, and he needs it for some personal business between he and I.”
I can tell by the tone in his response that I'm not allowed to ask him more about it.
The elevator makes it's descent and Jay swiftly pins me to the wall, the flats of his hands placed

above my head. His breathing sounds heavy, and it gets heavier the longer he stares at my lips, “Why
would you do that for me?”

I can't respond when he looks at me like that, full of longing and lust. No coherent thoughts can be

made. Deep, inexplicable yearning is overpowering everything else.

“I'm taking you sight-seeing,” he informs me, low and husky.
That snaps me out of my trance.
“Really?” My voice squeaks from excitement and nerves as his lips get closer.
His breath caresses my face, “Yeah.”
I beam at him and he whispers “beautiful” under his breath.
The elevator jolts when it stops, causing his pelvis to push into me. I bite my lip to hold back a

whimper when I realize he has a huge erection, but half of it escapes.

Jay's chest is rapidly moving and I can see the veins in his neck pulsating.
Time stands still and I feel like I'm waiting for him to kiss me for the very first time. I can hear

my heart jackhammer through my body, drilling right out of my chest and crashing into Jay.

A man roughly clears his throat, “We don't have all day.”
Jay takes one last look at my lips before backing away from me. We didn’t even kiss and my legs

feel loose and wobbly as we make our way out.

I'm relieved that none of the men escorting us out are the man Jay pulled a gun on, but I'm still

uncomfortable. Not one of them looks pleased with us; in fact, they look like they would love an
excuse to pop us both. I've never had enemies before, and I can say without a doubt I do now. It
makes me feel a little badass.

The men return our weapons: my gun and Jay's mini arsenal of guns, ammo, throwing stars, and

knives. They also return his jacket and shades, and I get back my cap and sunglasses that I
automatically place back on. Once outside we find it raining steadily, clouds tightening in and
showing no signs of stopping.

“Great,” I mumble. There goes our sightseeing.
Jay nudges me, “You think I'm going to let some rain stop me from showing you my favorite

spots? Wait until you see the Golden Gate from Presidio Golf Course. There's a bench on a hill by the
road that was my favorite place to go and think. The view is unbelievable.”

“You'll still take me?”
“If you'll stop being mad at me.”
“Deal,” I jump on him and wrap my legs around his waist. I take hold of his face and smash my

rain soaked lips to his, “Thank you!”

He bites his lip and I'm instantly aroused. I'm glad my shades are shielding my eyes and I can

freely stare at them.

“You have no idea what you do to me, baby. No fucking clue.”
“Tell me,” I urge, wanting him to open up to me and stop being cryptic.

“Have you changed your mind about how you feel about me?” He seems hopeful and his voice

has taken on a more youthful tone, making him seem like the teenager he never got to be.

“Never,” I promise with certainty, because he will forever be a part of me.
He appears to wince and I oddly feel sadness radiate off him, “Let's get going. We don't have a

lot of time.”

I drop down and he takes my hand, guiding me to the curb while he tries to get a cab, and we get

more soaked with every passing minute.

A taxi finally stops and he opens the door for me to get in. He points things out to me as we pass,

but he's aloof and distant towards me the whole ride.

I'm confused once again. He seemed to want to know I still had strong feelings for him, but

clearly my answer was not what he was wanting. My stomach twists and churns when I finally
become aware of how assured I was when I answered him. He must have sensed that what I feel for
him is somewhere in the love realm, when from the very beginning of our time together he has made it
clear he doesn't want me to stay a part of his life. I mistook his comment as something deeper. With
heavy sadness, I realize me jumping on him and kissing him got him excited and hard, and he made
that comment because I'm too naïve to realize that would make him aroused. When I urged him to tell
me what he was feeling, I thought it was closer to how I was feeling, but I understand now that that
wasn't the case. I feel like such an idiot.

I need a distraction from my heart splitting in half and crumbling all over the floor of the cab.
“What's the deal with Vault?” I turn my head to Jay and place a hand to the side of my mouth,

making sure the driver can't see my lips and I mouth, “Why was he so sure you wouldn't shoot him?”

Jay swipes his head and scoots to the middle seat. He lowers his head to my ear and whispers

into it, “Everybody does business with him. If someone is stupid enough to try and take him out,
anyone who he keeps their shit safe for will be after you. It's like writing your own death certificate.”

Wow, that's a lot of power.
“He's a very powerful man,” Jay responds to what I had thought aloud. “Nobody messes with

him. Don't misjudge him being friendly for something else, he can be ruthless if provoked.”

We arrived at Jay's favorite spot to view the bridge and it's everything he promised and more.

We sit in silence, not touching, for a long time, taking it all in. I want to reach for his hand but his
walls are at an all time high and I'm afraid he'd pull away from me.

Since he's already upset with me I decide to continue my questioning.
“Why is it okay if he knows who I am?”
Jay scratches his scruff, splattering falling rain around him, “I briefly had to tell him who you

were for business purposes.”

“If you were going to tell him about me, how come I couldn't go with you in the first place?”
“I didn't want him to actually have to meet you. I thought we could discuss matters and would

have you sign the papers from our hotel and I'd bring them back to him.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what I signed?”
Jay tenses up and then lets out a long sigh, “I'm not ready to have another argument with you. I'm

too fucking tired as it is.”

I need to shut it before I provoke him, but my stupid mouth doesn't know when to quit, “Why

aren’t you worried about him knowing who I am?”

“Vault is the most trustworthy man you can ever do business with. He wouldn’t be who he is if he

wasn't.” He stands up and starts to walk away, “Time to go. I have work to do before we go out
tonight.”

I hop up, “We're going out?”
“I need to try and find someone, and I think I know exactly where to find 'em.”

Chapter 29

10:13pm

“Who exactly are we looking for?” I ask, eyes scanning the swank night club, drinking my vodka

gimlet.

Jay remained distant the rest of the day and only spoke when he was pointing to different things

or telling me about them. Much to my disappointment, we had room service for dinner while Jay
worked at the desk in our room. The food was surprisingly quite tasty, but I wanted to try out another
iconic restaurant. I tried getting him to let me go to the bar in the hotel, but of course he refused. I
ended up watching HBO until it was time for us to come here. It had put me in a sour mood. Who
knows when the next time I will be here, and I was stuck inside a room. A room with an awesome
view, but it still sucked being forced to stay inside in one of the coolest cities I have ever seen.
Movies don't do this place justice.

“We are not looking for anyone. I'm looking for an old acquaintance that can help me.” Jay drinks

his Daniels on ice and continues to scan the bar.

I feel out of place here. It's definitely upscale, more so than any place back home. Luckily my

clothes were still soaked when we left and Jay had no choice but have me wear something else. I
forced him to take me into the shopping center close to the hotel; when I had picked out clothes in
Yuma I hadn't prepared for the cold San Francisco weather. We spent a good amount of time arguing
inside GAP about what I can buy and wear. I wanted something cute he wanted something baggy. He
won, and now I'm wearing a cream colored cable knit sweater that I pared with the skinny jeans I
bought at Target. He did let me buy faux brown leather boots on the pretense it was raining and the
ballet flats I'd previously bought had soaked my poor, cold feet (I totally up-played that one). He also
wanted me to wear another Giants hat but I refused. I refused not because I don't like baseball,
because I do (it's an American classic, how can you not?), I just wanted something stylish and less
boyish. I chose what the women at the store called a cloche. Jay agreed to it because it hung low
enough in the front to somewhat shadow my face. I also picked up See's Candy to bring home for
everyone. It's the best chocolate I have ever tasted. I almost had an orgasm in the shop from my free
sample, that's how good it is. I did finally get a laugh out of Jay with how much chocolate I bought.
He told me I'm the only person he knows that would think to bring back souvenirs, considering why
we're here. Obviously he didn't try his free sample or he'd be right on board (naturally I ate his for
him, you can't waste chocolate that good). I hadn't thought to wear any makeup, I keep forgetting to
grab some. It hasn't bothered me; in fact, I never thought of it, but now I feel dowdy and unattractive in
this club. If I had known where we were going tonight I would have put up more of a fight as to what I
wore and refused to wear a hat. I am, without a doubt, the most homely, drab girl here.

“There she is,” Jay says, standing up. “Stay here. I'll be right back.”
I watch him strut over to the bar in a confident “I own the world” strut I have never seen him use.
His hand rests on the small of a woman's back and he says something in her ear, causing her to

turn around.

My jaw plummets to the floor. This woman is beautiful, beyond beautiful. She's a stunning Italian

goddess and she's smiling back at Jay seductively, seeming ready to pounce on him.

I instantly hate her.

She has long, black hair that flows to the curve above her bottom and beautifully curls at the end.

It shines and gleams unnaturally in the dim light of the club. Even from here I can tell her olive
complexion is smooth and silky. Her eyes are a rich and sultry blown. I graze down to her juicy ripe
lips and scowl. And then I take in her body. She's wearing a skin tight black dress that shows off her
long, toned legs that even a ballerina would envy. It curves around her voluptuous ass and melons that
are obviously real.

Jay's hand has moved to her waist and her hands are now on his biceps as they lean to talk into

each others' ears. I can't see Jay's face and I pray it doesn't mirror her lust-seeking bedroom eyes. It
doesn't take a genius to assess they're intimately familiar.

I think I want to become a hit-man just so I can take her out.
Wow...this is what jealousy feels like.
I had no idea it harbored so many pain inflicting, murderous thoughts.
Jay appears to be ordering drinks, then nods for her to follow. He hands her a glass as they head

towards me. Now I really wish I had made him let me pick out my clothes. I have never felt more
inadequate as a woman in my life.

Please say she's a cousin, or better yet, a lesbian.
Jay pulls out a seat for her and scoots it into the table. He's never done that for me.
Score one for her.
He takes his seat between us and drinks from the other glass he had gotten at the bar. Apparently

he didn't get me anything.

Another point for her.
“Jay, you didn't tell me you had company,” even her voice is sexy, purring almost naturally, and

it reminds me of what caramel would sound like if it had a voice. Her eyes (she also has outrageously
long lashes, the bitch) survey me and immediately they show that she doesn't view me as a threat. This
has me fired up – even if it's true. No woman’s a threat to her. I think happily married men wouldn't
say no to her.

“This is Holly. She got into some trouble and I'm helping her get home safely.”
She eyes him suspiciously, “Since when do you help a civilian?”
He takes another drink, eyes never leaving her, “She gave me something I needed. I owe her

one.” He's eating her up, a fire burning in his eyes I'm all too familiar with: it's the one he uses on me
when he's controlling his desires.

I need another drink.
I grab Jay's from his hand and knock it back, not caring if I look like white trash.
“Mmm,” she nods in understanding, knowing him well enough to not ask what it was I gave him,

which is nothing. He only needed an excuse why I'm here.

“I'm Arianna,” she informs me, placing a perfectly manicured hand on her chest.
Damn, even her name is sexy.
“How do you two know each other?” I don't want to respond with “It's nice to met you” because

I'm not that good of a liar.

A moment passes between them and sex fills the air around us. It's so carnal and lasciviously

laced that even I feel my panties dampen.

“Gosh Jay, what? We met at thirteen?”
He motions for the waitress passing to refill our drinks, “Somewhere around there.”
He finally looks at me, but his eyes are expressionless for me. Jealousy's now pumping through

my veins, giving me an adrenaline spike from the overdose of pure venomous loathing I feel for this

woman.

He's my man. Mine.
Not really, but that’s what keeps running through my head.
Any minute now I'm going to yank out my imaginary gold-hoop earrings and yell at the girl sitting

behind me to hold me back as I claw at her.

“My dad used her parents a few times,” Jay explains, wiping out the fighting scene I had playing

out in my head. I was totally kicking her ass too, it was awesome.

My stupid curiosity gets the best of me, “For what?”
“I come from a long line of con-artists,” she intervenes, “Jay and his dad only work with the best,

which we are.”

I have no doubt she's good at getting any man to do what she wants. I have a feeling most women

hate her, me at the top of that list.

Is it normal to already harbor such intense hatred for someone after only minutes? It's not like

she's been rude or unfriendly.

“We run into each other a few times a year, and we've worked together too,” Arianna further

explains before putting all her attention back on Jay. “Ohmygod, do you remember that time in
Malibu...”

They carry on like I'm not even there, and I might as well not be for how excluded I feel.
“I need the bathroom.” Jay stands after they finish reliving the past. He nods in my direction,

“Stay with her and don't let her out of your sight. She has a gun on her, but I need your word you won't
let anything happen to her?”

She laughs and gets the attention of every male within hearing distance. Yeah, even her laugh is

that sexy. Bitch.

“You gave her a gun?”
Jay smirks at her amusement.
“Where’s she hiding it on that tiny frame, between her ass cheeks?”
Jay chuckles and I want to smack him and throttle her.
“Just give me your word.”
“Fine, but I can't promise she won't accidentally trigger herself. Honestly Jay, you don't just hand

people guns to defend themselves.”

I expect Jay to defend my mad skills but he only shrugs and leaves.
“So have you fucked yet?” She asks, leaning in, ready for the gossip.
“No.”
Which wasn't a lie. I've only made love to him.
“Damn shame with a cock his size. Although, he'd probably break a little thing like you.”
I lean in, the pull to know more draws me in, “So you two...” I trail off, hoping she gets where

I'm going.

She laughs, “Oh, god yes.” It sounded like she almost had an orgasm with her response, “We

were each others firsts. Any time we're around one another it's like this magnetic pull to rip the
others' clothes off. We once spent a week doing nothing but fucking in a hotel, never leaving.”

I so don't want to be hearing this. No way can I ever compete with her and obviously I'm not the

first woman who's felt the current and been sucked in. Is that just what Jay does to women, and what I
feel for him isn't rare, but familiar to so many others?

Wow, that's depressing to think about.
So, I won't. I'll finish of mine and Jay's drinks instead.

“You like him,” she states as though its obvious, which maybe it is. She rest back into her chair,

“Be careful, he'll only break your heart. Guys like Jay don't do love. That's why we work so well; I
don't either. Our relationship is purely sexual. I know one or two things will happen when I see him.
First we will fuck our brains out and then I'll help him with a job, followed by more fucking.”

“You two were never together?”
“As in a couple?”
I nod yes, and this receives a loud, head thrown back laugh, “Jay's too busy seeking his revenge

to ever be tied down. Even if he wasn't, you grow up never staying in one place for too long and
anything long term becomes too boring and claustrophobic. Trust me, I know. We've lived similar
lives, except he kills people for money and I con them. People like us can't settle, we grow too
restless. We live for adventure and adrenaline; it's our crack.”

“Do you know who he's after?”
She raises a brow at me, “He didn't tell you about Mark?”
“I'm not allowed to say Voldemort's name out loud.”
Her face scrunches up in a “huh?” way.
I let out an exasperated sigh, “Never mind.”
“Do you know anything about his scars?”
“Only that he doesn’t want me knowing anything about them,” I sulk, because obviously she

knows.

Another point for her.
What was that crap he fed me about being the only one he's let in? I call bullshit on that one.

Arianna clearly knows more about him than I do. In fact, everyone seems to know more while I
remain in the dark.

“Interesting,” she mumbles, concentrating on her drink.
“How's that interesting? I find it infuriating. He won't tell me a goddamn thing. Even now I have

no clue why he needs you.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she coos out, “he always needs me. I'm an itch he always needs to scratch.”
“I'm betting you're an itch every man needs to scratch.”
She throws her head back and laughs some more, making me aware of how perfect her neckline

is.

“Has he ever called you perfect?” I ask, wanting to know, needing to know.
“Why? Is that how he described me?” She seems a little too curious and eager for my response.
“No, he's never mentioned you.” I wasn’t trying to insult her, but I saw a frown flicker across her

face. It leaves me wondering if maybe she cares more for him than she lets on, and I can’t say that I
blame her. How can you know Jay intimately for over a decade without falling for him? “Well, has
he?” I urge, because I really want to know.

“Has he what?” Jay asks, returning to his seat.
“Ever told Arianna she was perfect,” I say matter-of-factly because I’m not trying to hide

anything.

Jay squirms uncomfortably in his seat and my stomach falls in an “I don't know if I want to know

the answer” kind of way.

“You know, I can't recall,” Arianna ponders, “He's definitely called me gorgeous, sexy, hot piece

of ass-”

“I don't ever call a woman perfect,” Jay cuts in, taking note that I finished his glass and raising a

brow at me. I give him a wink, and in return he shakes his head, grinning and mouthing “lush”, “In

order for me to call someone that, they'd truly have to be perfect from the inside out. Perfect enough to
make me wish for things I can never have, perfect enough to make me feel emotions I thought I wasn't
capable of, and perfect enough to make me rethink what I want. You girls ever meet anyone like that?
'Cause please, send her my way if you do.”

My heart starts palpitating at a pace I'm sure is visibly pulsating my skin. Was he informing me

that I'm all those things to him, or does he not remember ever calling me perfect? I hate how hard he
is to read when he has his walls up, which is all the time now.

“Nobody's that perfect,” Arianna scoffs.
Jay takes a sip of his newly refilled glass, “I didn't think so either.”
“Let's dance,” Arianna grabs Jay's hand, who easily lets her guide him up. They start to make

their way to the dance floor, but Jay stops and turns my way.

“Come on.”
“Nope, sorry. I don't dance,” the words sound funny on my tongue and I giggle.
“I can't leave you here alone.”
I can't tell if he's being cordial or if it's his overprotectiveness.
Arianna loops her arms around his neck, forcing him to look at her, “She'll be fine. It's been too

long, Jay. I need your body next to mine.” Her body and voice leave no room for doubt on what's
she's craving, and it comes in the impenetrable iron form of Jay Lincoln.

Join the club.
Usher starts blasting through the club and Arianna takes the opportunity to turn around and grind

her ass against Jay, who plants his hands on her hips and glides it against him. She dips low and I'm
completely forgotten as they head to the dance floor. They are obviously no strangers to dancing
together. Arianna is the sexiest dancer I have seen, when it comes to grinding on a man. She has a way
of making it look erotic and not at all slutty. They look hot together and I hate them both. When the
server comes by I let her know I'm going to need another, pointing to all three drinks that are still full.

Halfway through the song, Jay locks eyes with me and nods to the dance floor and mouths

“dance.”

I shake my head no. He shrugs and continues his seductive dance with Arianna. My lack of

rhythm has never bothered me until now. I would give anything to be able to go over there and make
everyone want to touch themselves with my moves.

A softer song comes on and they become entwined in each other. They bury their heads together

and they are the perfect height, their bodies flowing in a sexual, rhythmic seduction against the other. I
notice others watching because the sight of them together is captivating and sensuous. It's not every
day you see an Italian goddess sexing it against a Greek Spartan.

When the drinks arrive I have mine finished in three quick gulps. I swirl the tiny black straw,

sloshing the ice cubes together, throwing myself a drunken pity party. I could never compete with a
woman like Arianna, even if I knew how to dance. I've never seen a woman more desirable than her. I
wish she could be more of a bitch, so I could hate her and not feel guilty while trying to come up with
ways to destroy her.

A man slides into Jay's empty seat.
“You look lonely,” he smiles at me. He's cute. Not nearly as tall or as built as Jay, but he still has

an attractive physique to go with his boyish yet charming face, “and bored. Didn’t anyone tell you
you're in one of the most desirable cities in the world? Not enjoying yourself is forbidden in a city
like this.”

“Maybe I would if I wasn't in a club you can find anywhere in the world,” I have an edge to my

voice from my still sour mood. Why's this guy even over here? Maybe I'm a charity case and he feels
bad for the dowdy, unattractive girl.

“Sarcastic and cute. Glad I talked myself into coming over. I'm Chris by the way.” He flashes me

a pearly white smile.

I try and muster up my most friendly smile, “Holly.”
“Has anyone ever told you you have the most amazing smile? It's absolutely beautiful,” he says

with such honesty it takes me by surprise. I expected guys in clubs like this to be overly fake and
cheesy. “Can I buy you a drink?” I can hear the hopefulness in his voice and I give him a genuine
smile. It feels good to have a guy be interested in me, especially one as handsome as he is.

“I would like that.”
I look around the club and wonder why he's here, considering the drab state of my attire and

looks. This club has an overabundance of hot girls every place you look.

He summons over a server, “What are you drinking?”
“That's not really any of your concern,” Jay quips as he leans his body over mine, knuckles firmly

placed on the table. His body is wrapped over me in a state of possession.

“She yours?” Chris asks, eyes wide, absorbing in the sight of Jay.
“No,” I blurt out, frustrated.
“Yes,” Jay responds at the exact same time.
Jay growls into my ear and I know its directed at me.
I tilt my head to view him, “What's your problem? You can sex a girl on the dance floor but I

can't talk to a guy?”

Chris slides his business card across the table and slips it under my hand, “Call me.”
Jay takes the card out from under my fingers and slaps it against the man's chest, “Fuck off.”
He scurries away at the same time Arianna rejoins our table.
“We need to talk,” Jay demands, and I think he's talking to me but then Arianna speaks up.
“Okay, let's go to my hotel,” her response purrs out, coated in sexual invitation.
“Holly's with me,” Jay still has my body encased in his and I sit up straighter, hoping he'll back

off, but he doesn't take the hint. Instead, his arms move so his hands are almost overlapping mine,
securing me in place.

“It's a suite. She can watch the television in the main room.” She leans over to let her perfectly

round breasts spill onto the table, “It's been way too long, Jay.”

I'm actually pretty drunk right now, or the idea of them together would drive me mad with

jealousy.

“Does your room have those cute little bottles with alcohol in them?” I ask, smacking my numb

lips together.

Arianna's smile brightens, “See, she's ready to go.” She stands up, “Come on.”
“You don't care if we go with her?” Jay whispers into my ear. His lips are close enough that they

move against my hair. I let out a sigh and sink back into him.

“Not really,” I shrug, “I'll order a movie and drink the mini bottles. It'll be fun.”
“You do understand what she wants if we go to her room don't you?”
“You.”
I can't believe how airy and indifferent I'm coming across. I'll have to make a mental note to

remember how uncaring I am when I'm this drunk. It's fantastic.

“And that doesn't bother you?” His voice is gruff and almost angry sounding.
“Nope,” I snap my lips together when I say it, making the word pop out. I giggle at the way it

feels on my lips and tongue.

“So you're saying you won't care if we go to her hotel and we fuck with you able to hear?”
Now I can definitely tell he's mad. I would recognize the tone he's using no matter what state I'm

in.

“She can always join in,” Arianna coos, trailing her hand up Jay's arm. “We haven't done that in

awhile.”

I twist in my chair to better see her, “You guys have done that?”
Her body leans in closer and our faces are inches apart, “Oh yeah, wait until you see what Jay

can do with his tongue.”

This makes me broadly smile and tilt my head back to look at Jay, who's glaring down at me. I

turn my body around in my chair so my back is to the table. I rest my elbows and lean back into them,
making it easier to look up.

“I'm very familiar with what he can do with his tongue,” my statement's not even close to

flirtatious because of the extra large smile still planted on my face; apparently I'm an overly happy
drunk tonight. Could be worse.

The evil glare Jay has been blazing into me turns into a coy grin and he winks at me, causing my

smile to get bigger. I giggle because my face is numb and I can hardly feel my face splitting open
across it.

“You're really fucking drunk right now aren't you?”
“Yup,” I pop my lips together again when I say it.
Jay chuckles and shakes his head, “Let's get you home.”
He straightens and Arianna is clinging to his arm, but he doesn't seem to be paying her any

attention as he helps me up.

“I thought you said you two never fucked,” Arianna accuses, glaring at me.
“We haven't,” Jay answers, taking my hand into his.
Arianna takes a step back, arms crossed, “What, you two just fool around?”
“Not any more,” I pout, or so that's what I would normally do, but I can't stop smiling and I sound

extra perky. Naomi would kick my ass right now for being this upbeat. Stevie would love it and try to
get me to drink more and see if she could turn me into a drunken cheerleader, probably even try to get
me to do a few drunken cheers for her. “If you guys are into threesomes you should totally meet my
friend Stevie. She'd have an orgasm at the sight of you, and she's wanted inside Jay's pants from the
minute she saw him. Do you really do that kind of thing?” I look up to Jay again and giggle at how far
back my head has to tilt, “God you're big!”

“And you're drunk,” he chuckles, “Come on we need to get you to bed. Where are you staying?”

He asks Arianna, who smiles seductively at him.

“The Fairmont.”
“We'll be there tomorrow morning at ten. I have a job for you.”
Jay takes hold of my hand, dragging me out of the club, and within seconds he has a cab pulling

up.

As soon as we're inside, I notice Jay is sitting with his arms crossed, looking pitiful.
I nudge him with my elbow, “What's wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Sure, Mr. Mopy-pants,” I tease in a pouty voice.
He raises a brow at me, “Did you just call me Mr. Mopy-pants?”
“Well, you're totally being one, just because you didn't get laid. You're such a guy.”

This remark earns a sneer and a growl from him, “I can't believe you think that.”
“Then why are you being so grumpy?”
He pouts and turns his head to stare out the window. He looks like a child right now and it's

adorable. I love adorable Jay.

I giggle.
What side of Jay don't I love by now? I'm hopeless when it comes to him.
“What's so funny,” he grumbles, still moping and staring out the window.
I pinch his cheek, “You're just so gosh darn cute.”
This earns a half-smile and a glance in my direction, “You have the oddest ways of describing

me.”

“That's because no one sees you like I do.”
Jay mumbles something under his breath I can't understand.
“Huh?”
“We're here,” he responds, paying the driver and pushing me out onto the sidewalk.
My walking is a bit off as we enter the lobby and Jay supports me to the elevator.
I push the button to our floor and Jay pushes another one.
“Wrong one,” he informs me.
“Oh,” I sigh, leaning into him and wrapping my arms around his waist. “I'm glad you're here with

me and not her.”

“I thought you said you didn't care,” he still sounds grumpy. What's gotten up his butt?
“I don't care because I'm drunk, but I care a lot.”
“That doesn't make any sense.”
I hiccup and shrug my shoulders.
The elevator door pings open and he takes hold of my hand, leading me to our room.
I happily follow with a cross between a skip and a drunken totter.
Jay slides the keycard through and opens the door for me. I stumble in, Jay somewhat helping to

prevent me from hurting myself.

The door clicks shut behind me and I hear the dead bolt and latch lock in place.
That’s my cue to strip...er...I mean undress. First go my pants, which I trip over trying to get off.

Who was the genius who invented those? Damn pants, it's like getting out of a straight jacket.

Totally.
I giggle and I hear Jay chuckling, so I look up to see him watching me, highly amused.
“Need some assistance?”
“Nope, I totally got this.” I pull on the bottom edges of my sweater and bring it over my head,

which gets stuck on my hat and I have to tug a few times to get it off.

Snap. There goes my bra. I let it fall to the floor.
“Whoa!” Jay shouts covering one hand over his eyes and the other comes out in front of him as

the universal sign for stop. “Fuck, Lily, can't you do that in the bathroom!”

I roam my hands all over my body, “Why? It's not like you haven't seen all of this before.”
Jay's eyes widen, then blink, followed by a groan. He starts rummaging through his bag and

throws a shirt at me, “Put this on. I'm taking a shower.” He grabs what he needs and shuts himself in
the bathroom.

I put the shirt on, but now I really have to pee.
I walk right into the bathroom and plop down on the toilet.
“What are you doing?” Jay asks apprehensively behind the shower curtain.

“Peeing.” Duh.
“You couldn't wait until I was done in here?”
“Nope.” I flush and wash my hands while examining myself in the mirror. I think I look kinda

pretty right now, but I'm drunk so I most likely look trashed.

“Do I look pretty?” I curiously ask, going back into the bathroom.
“When? Now?”
“Yeah?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Just curious.”
Jay pops his head around the curtain and he surveys the length of me, “You look like you, but

drunk.”

I roll my eyes, “Is vague the only way you know how to answer a question?”
“Well, it's a stupid question,” he answers, head going back in.
“Whatever,” I huff, “I don't even know why I bothered asking you.”
“Me either. You're always pretty, even on your bad days.”
Oomph. Belly flop, not such a good feeling when you're drunk.
“What are my bad days?”
“Um...Please don't make me answer that.”
“Now you have to, with a response like that.”
“It's a buzz kill,” he warns.
“I don't care.”
“Banged up from those guys attacking you.”
“Geez Jay! Way to be a total buzz kill!” I cry, shooting my hand into the shower and turning the

water to cold.

“Aah! Hey! I warned you! Your beauty still stunned me.”
“Really?” Damn my voice for sounding way too happy right now.
“It always does.”
Okay, I need to get out of here before I attack him in the shower.
I need another drink.
Or is that bad?
You know what?
I totally don't care.
I dig around in our stuff and am disappointed when I come up empty, but I guess in order to have

some you would have to buy some. Funny how that works.

I pull down the covers to my bed and start channel surfing. I catch a preview for the late night

movie starting soon and I leap out of bed in excitement. I grab Jay's wallet and start pulling out all his
dollar bills.

“What are you doing?” Jay asks, coming out in his flannel bottoms that hang deliciously low on

his hips and a white tank that shows off his upper half.

“I'm getting us snacks!” I declare at a very high level of excitement.
“Not without me.”
I fully expected to hear a “young lady” slip out of his mouth with the fatherly tone he just took.
“Fine, but come on,” I wave my hand to gesture him over, “We have to get back before the movie

starts.” I take his loose quarters and grip his hand, leading us to the door.

“What movie?”

I can tell his curiosity is peaked.
I wiggle my brows at him, “It's a surprise.”
“I'm not watching Clueless with you again,” he warns.
“As if! It's way more existential than that.”
Jay laughs, grabbing the key card as I drag him out, “Wait, Lily. You need pants.”
I stop, look down, and giggle, “Oops.”
I go to our bags and throw on sweats, which are actually Jay's and fall down the second I pull

them up. Giggling, I pull them back up and waddle to him, “Come on, we're on a time crunch.”

Jay rubs the bridge of his nose, “Put on a pair of your pants.”
“No time.”
“Make time,” Jay demands, blocking the door.
I scrunch up my nose at him and stick out my tongue before throwing on the straight jacket for my

legs that I left lying on the floor.

“There,” I huff and puff trying to get them on. Man, skinny jeans are a bitch to put on drunk.

“Better?”

Jay opens the door and we head to the vending machines.
“Why did it matter what pair of pants I wore? We're not going far.”
“Memories,” he grumbles.
“Oh. Yeah, but those are good memories.” For me at least.
“That's the problem.”
The florescent light glowing down on the big black box of processed food distracts me and I hug

it, “Thank you Nabisco and FritoLay for supplying the world with late night yummies.”

Jay chuckles and hands me a dollar.
I give him an “are you crazy?” look.
“What?”
He clearly doesn't understand.
“I'm going to need a lot more than that,” I slap the bill insert, “throw in everything you've got.”
His mouth drops open, “No way we can eat that much this late at night.”
“Wanna bet?” I start shoving the money he hands me in and punching random numbers because

you can't really go wrong in hotel vending machines, unless it's a granola bar or other healthy snack,
“It doesn't matter if we finish it all or not, it's part of the fun.”

I pull out the goods and start piling them in Jay's arms.
He eyes the food warily, “If you say so.”
I freeze mid money insertion, “You've never late night over-snacked before?”
“No.”
I squeal, “Perfect!” I throw more food on top of the growing bundle. “Come on, we have to get

back! I'm so excited!”

Jay chuckles and follows behind me.
Inside the room, I pull back the covers on his bed and point halfway down the bed, “Munchies go

there.”

Jay dumps his armful on the indicated spot.
The television makes the familiar sound of a new movie starting and I climb onto his bed. “Come

on, it's starting.” I wiggle out of my pants and toss them, hitting Jay in the chest, “Oops, sorry.”

He drops them to the ground, “We're watching it in my bed, together?”
“Yup. How else are we going to share the goodies?”

He scratches his scruff, eying me and then the bed.
“I won't bite. Geez, you know I don't get that kinky.”
Jay laughs, “Uh, you have bitten me before.”
I giggle, “Oh, right.” Thank God I'm too drunk to properly replay that moment or I would be on

top of him faster than I can blink, “Get your ass over here before you ruin the surprise movie!”

He sighs heavily but joins me on the other side, rearranging the pillows and resting his back

comfortably on the headboard.

The opening of the movie begins to play.
“Princess Bride?” He asks, a smile playing on his lips and his eyes light up with joy.
I bite down hard on my lip to resist the urge to kiss him.
He beams at me, making it even harder, “You remembered my favorite movie?”
“Of course I did silly!” I grab a bag of Cheetos and sit back and we watch the movie, sharing the

bag.

“That’s so freaking romantic,” I gush when Wesley tells Buttercup “As you wish.”
I grab a piece of red licorice and wave it at Jay, “Want one?”
He makes a face, “No, thanks. I don't like 'em.”
“What? How can you not like licorice? I take a bite from the back of my teeth, “You're right.

They're really not that good.” I take another bite.

“Then why are you eating them?”
“Because they're yummy.”
Jay reaches for a Snicker's bar and I haven't a clue why, but the sight of chocolate hitting his lips

has me extremely turned on.

He notices me watching him, “Want some?” His mouth is full when he asks, tilting the bar my

way.

I nod yes and take a bite, holding back a moan. The first bite of chocolate hitting my tongue

always does that to me, and the fact that his lips were just on it makes it taste almost orgasmic.

Jay's looking at me strangely and I just know I did something embarrassing when I took that bite. I

blush and go back to watching the movie.

Hearing the giant say, “Anybody want a peanut?” has me reaching for another snack, but the one I

want is near the end of the bed so I have to go on all fours to get it.

“Jesus, Lily!” Jay cries, pulling down the end of my night shirt over my ass, “Where's your

fucking underwear?!”

I look over my shoulder at him, “I don't have any on?”
“NO!”
I giggle and notice my undies in my jeans. I giggle some more, “Oops, I accidentally took them

off with my pants.”

Jay groans, grabs my hips, and pulls me back to sitting, “Don't move again. You want something,

I'll get it for you.”

“Geez, sorry. I didn't know my ass had such an effect on you.” I get up on my knees and lift my

shirt, cupping my breasts in both hands, “You always seem way more interested in these.”

Jay's eyes almost pop out, “Fuck, Lily! I am never letting you drink around me again!” He yanks

down my shirt and pulls me down to rest against the headboard next to him.

I relax and enjoy my snack and happily continue watching until Jay starts mouthing, “My name is

Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die” under his breath along with the actor.

I think I just died from the cuteness factor of a pure masculine man like Jay repeating lines from

The Princess Bride.

I smile at him.
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye,“What?”
“You. You can be incredibly adorable at times.”
He rolls his eyes.
“Keep sweet talking me, babe. Every man loves to be called adorable,” he remarks sarcastically.
I scoot in closer to him and snuggle up to his side, “That may be the case, but adorable coming

from you is hot.”

“Hot, huh?” He smirks, looking down at me and wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I take the

hand resting on my shoulder and entwine our fingers, grinning at him.

“Totally,” I giggle, cuddling up even more.
“You sure giggle a lot when your drunk.”
I giggle, which makes me giggle again for proving his point.
Jay kisses the top of my head and I sigh into the familiarity of it, wishing we were back in his bed

across the street from my mom's house, where for a brief moment in my life, everything was perfect. I
decide to burn this memory into my mental flash drive.

I laugh every time he repeats a line, which is a lot.
Jay shakes my body with his arm, “Stop making me self-conscious.”
“I can't help it. Seeing this side of you always leaves me all giddy and happy.”
Jay kisses the top of my head again, “You're the only person I've watched this movie with.”
“I guess that makes me pretty special.”
“You are special...and pretty,” he adds and I grin up at him, getting a wink in return.
During a commercial break I hurry to the bathroom, and when I return Jay pulls me to sit between

his legs.

I let myself sink into the warmth of his chest. God, I've missed this feeling.
“Hit the lights,” I tell him.
He reaches and turns off the switch to the lamp, “As you wish.”
My breathing comes to a halt. Did he say that to quote the movie, or was it meant to say it's

underlying meaning?

I tilt my head back – a mistake, because Jay's lips are now inches from mine.
“Watch the movie, Lily,” he commands and his warm breath washes over me, sending a shiver

down my spine. I lick my lips before biting down on them and closing my eyes. “Watch the movie,
please,” his voice is strained, almost begging me.

I oblige because I'm not emotionally ready for the repercussions of what will happen if we kiss,

and for this to be realized while drunk tells me I'm making a smart decision.

“As you wish,” I softly say, opening my eyes to meet his before focusing back on the movie,

hoping he caught exactly how I meant that to be taken.

Still drunk enough to admit to Jay I love him.
Stupid drunken idiot.
Jay wraps his arms tightly around me, resting his cheek on my head, and we tangle our legs

together. For a blissful moment, I let myself pretend he's mine.

Chapter 30

Thursday, January 23
9:28am

“Time to wake up, Lily.” I feel a smack on my ass.
“Hey!” I cry, rubbing it over the sheet, “Can I stay here and sleep while you go see Arianna?”
Memories of last night at the club coming flooding back, and that mixed with my headache has me

wanting to avoid Arianna's hotel room at all costs. Thank God we did not go home with her last night,
that would have sucked (and ripped my heart out).

“No, you need to come with me.”
“Please don't have sex when I'm there,” I groan, throwing off the covers and heading to the

bathroom.

“I thought you didn't care,” Jay reminds me while brushing his teeth.
I close the bathroom door for privacy and raise my voice so he can hear.
“That was the alcohol talking. I guarantee if we had actually gone to her room and I had had to

hear you guys doing it, I would have puked all over her perfect little suite.”

I hear him rinse out his mouth and I flush the toilet.
“I was never going to sleep with her.”
I open the door and wash my hands, “That's not what it looked like last night.”
He's standing behind me and we stare at each other through the mirror.
He starts to smile, “So you do care?”
I nod my head, face flushing in embarrassment.
He's still smiling and slaps my ass, “Get dressed so we can go.”
I begin to change, “Why weren't you?”
“Going to sleep with her?”
I nod yes as I pull down my shirt, realizing I had just been completely nude in front of Jay and

then dressed without even realizing it. We are getting way to comfortable with each other.

Jay flips his shades down, “I didn't want to.”
“Would you have if I wasn't here?”
“Yea,” he responds honestly and it makes my stomach drop. Well, boo.
I put on my sunglasses to hide the hurt in my eyes, followed by my new hat, and I brush my teeth.
Once we're in the cab I talk again, “She's gorgeous.”
“Yeah, she is,” Jay confirms, staring out the window.
“Do you love her?”
“No.”
“Did you ever?”
“No.”
“She said you were each others' first?”
“Yeah, we were.”
“So, you must care about her?”
Jay scratches his scruff, “What's with all the questions?”
“Just curious,” and jealousy's a real bitch. “She told me the two off you spent a week in a hotel,

never leaving.” I loathe the animosity and bitterness in my voice. I lasted a nanosecond at playing
aloof with him. Have I mentioned how hopeless I am?

Jay laughs, “She told you that?”
“Yes.” Stupid pout forming on my face, “Did you?”
“Kinda. We were in Vegas doing a job together. We never left the hotel we stayed at – which

isn't hard to do. So technically, yeah, we never left, but she mislead you a bit. I think she's jealous of
you.”

My turn to laugh.
“I'm serious. The whole time we danced she kept asking me questions exactly like you're doing.

She even called this morning to ask about what happened when we got back to the hotel.”

“I didn't hear the phone ring.”
“You were passed out and snoring.” He rubs the side of my mouth with his thumb, “With a little

bit of drool.”

I bite the tip, causing him to groan. I have no clue what possess me to do this but I take the whole

thing into my mouth and suck.

Jay's eyes darken, “I wouldn't do that if I were you...”
“Why?” I ask around his thumb. He closes his eyes as my lips travel up, slowly releasing it.
“Fuck it,” Jay growls, sliding over and taking hold of my face, smashing our lips together and

forcefully kissing me. His tongue thrusts inside and his hands form into fists in my hair, knocking my
hat off, forcing me closer, and his mouth devours mine in a way he never has before. I'm lost in a sea
of pleasure tearing through my body.

My hands take hold of his neck and we begin to slide down in the seat, our lips sucking and

biting, our bodies grinding into each other.

The driver clears his throat, “I'm going to ask you two to wait until you leave my cab before

taking that any further.”

Out of the corner of my eye I watch Jay reach into his pocket – never breaking his lips from mine

– and throw a hundred over the seat.

“Carry on,” the driver chuckles.
And oh god do we ever. I thought we'd had heated kisses before, but this one surpasses them all.

When the driver slams on his brakes it forces Jay's erection against me and we both whimper. He
places his hand on the back of the driver's seat to steady us from tumbling to the floor. When the car
starts moving again he brings it to my waist, under my shirt. He starts to stroke my bare skin, sliding it
around my back and unsnapping my bra.

Are we seriously doing this in the back of a taxi?
When his fingers find my nipple I stop caring and get lost in the moment.
His hand reaches for my pants and I stop him from going any further, “Jay, stop, we can't do this

here.”

I'm panting and breathless, but so is he as he groans and rests our foreheads together.
“I guess I got a little carried away.”
“Maybe a little,” I smile and peck his lips, which only makes us go at it again.
“We've arrived at The Fairmont, my guess is right on time,” the driver says, sounding highly

amused.

We break apart, both of us pulling down our shirts and sitting back up, wiping our mouths,

completely out of breath. I reach to refasten my bra. Jay pays the driver and I can't look at him as we
exit.

Once on the sidewalk we both start laughing. Jay pulls me to him and kisses along my neck, “I

never knew how fun taxi rides could be.”

“It's us, Jay. We could make waiting in an airport fun.”
“Mmm,” his lips brush along my jaw, “I never tried that one before.”
“You're insatiable, you know that?”
“Only when it comes to you.”
Our mouths are back together, our tongues assaulting the others.
“It's real convenient we're at a hotel right now,” Jay says against my lips.
“Only because we're supposed to be meeting Arianna, or we would already be in a bed,” I feel

the need to point out.

“Oh shit, I forgot about that.”
Jay rubs the top of his head and we both give the other a goofy grin. He takes my hand,

interlocking our fingers, and we head inside.

I'm thrilled when the elevator is packed tight and Jay pulls me against his front. I can feel his still

hard erection pressed against my back. He slowly slides his hands down my arms, leaving behind
goosebumps, and he holds my hands, crossing them around my waist. He's nibbling on my ear and I
can feel his smile that's not quite as large as mine.

I have no clue what just happened to my life in the past twenty minutes. We went from flirting and

occasional touches to being the couple we were before he left.

Am I ready to go down this road, knowing he'll be sending me on my way again? I wish I had an

answer. Both of my options leave me wanting Jay, so do I have him while I can, falling further in
love, or do I stop this and hope the pain won't be as great? This is when I wish I had a girlfriend to
talk to.

Jay answers the questions for me when Arianna answers her door and he promptly drops my

hand, taking a sidestep to form a nice gap between us. I try not to let the hurt register on my face.

Arianna is standing there looking sensational in a black lace-trim skirt that hits mid-thigh. The

top is a tucked in white long-sleeve blouse with big round gold cufflinks that feature the Oscar de la
Renta's floral symbol. Her feet are wearing black booties. Her makeup is more overdone than I think
is necessary for her kind of rare beauty, but she looks classy and incredibly sexy.

We walk into the suite and I watch as her hair gleams and glistens from the natural light pouring

out of the open window while she sashays further inside. She belongs in a museum for all to gawk at.

The room is spectacular, but not surprising; it would feel wrong for Arianna to be in anything

less. The main room has a view of the bay and Coit Tower in the distance.

Jay takes a seat on the only couch, putting himself in perfect view of the window. I decide to sit

cross-legged on the oversized cushioned chair – it's the furthest seat from Jay. I did this on purpose
because it's hard for me to concentrate on anything but his lips right now. Any closer and I'm not sure
I would be in control of my actions.

Arianna joins Jay on the couch, on the end closest to me. She flips her hair over her shoulder and

I catch a whiff of fresh rain.

Damn, even her smell is sexy.
It's not fair that my exes are Will and Matt, but I get her to contend with.
“I watched the video of you two on the racetracks,” Arianna casually says, examining her nails,

“That was some kiss, and one hell of a race. I had forgotten how skilled you are.”

Jay's muscles tense and his eyes harden, lowering in on Arianna, “Excuse me?” His voice has

turned menacing and gruff, a heavy scowl on his upper lip. Arianna shifts uncomfortably in her seat; I

think she's nervous. Jay has switched to his intimidating, horrific persona, and for the first time it has
no affect on me.

“I wasn't spying,” Arianna's voice is shaky as she responds.
It brings a smile to my face, because she has known Jay since they were thirteen and he still has

the power to terrify her. I've only known him for a month and am unaffected now. I know this is not
who he really is, but the person he's cultivated to overpower and have the upper hand.

I can see his skin has reddened and he's trying to rein in his rage.
“I had that removed,” he seethes, teeth grinding together. “Fucking Lazra. I need to make a call.”
He gets up, taking long thunderous steps to the bedroom, and slams the door.
Arianna turns to me, “Is he working with Laz?” Her eyes are wide, appearing stunned.
Jay lets out a loud growl that causes Arianna to jump in her seat. We can't make out what he's

saying, but there's no doubt whoever he is talking to is shitting their pants right now.

“She needs him to retrieve something for her.”
Arianna scrunches up her face in confusion, “But he hates Laz. He would never work for her.

Ever.”

I shrug at the same time a loud roar vibrates the walls and Arianna sinks a little into her seat,

nervously darting glances at the bedroom door.

“Honestly, Jay doesn't tell me much, but she's the reason I'm here. She saw that video and I guess

spied on us for a while, then kidnapped me as a bargaining tool to get Jay to help her. She promised
to destroy the information she has on us...me and not let anyone else see it.”

Arianna's brows shoot up, “Interesting.”
I'm about to ask her what is when Jay comes back out and takes his seat. He bends a leg up on his

knee, jiggling it on his lap while he works his jaw.

Arianna turns her attention to him, “Is she really worth having to work with Laz?”
He ignores her and continues working his jaw, burning a hole in the middle couch cushion with

his blazing eyes.

“I mean, isn't keeping her with you only making it worse? It proves she means something to you.

You should have sent her home right away. Laz probably thinks she's your one and now you've
stupidly put her life in danger.”

This causes Jay's hands to ball up and turn white, “Yeah, well, I haven't been thinking too clearly

lately.”

Jay gets up and starts pacing the room.
Arianna glances my way, “You know you can't trust her, right?”
Is she talking about me?!
Jay halts, “You don't think I fucking know that!” Then his hand points in my direction, “What the

fuck was I supposed to do with her? I couldn't send her home until I knew no one else was after her.
Then I made the stupid mistake of telling Laz that Lily is more important than finding the fucking
Marker!”

Arianna gasps, covering her mouth with her hand, “Is she? Her real name's Lily?”
I hate how they are talking like I'm not even here, it's getting me agitated.
Jay lets out a curse and sits back down on the couch. He buries his head in his hands, “No, she's

not.”

That crushes me, even though I already know, and Arianna has shifted her mood to one of delight.
“So what's this job you have for me and how much money do I stand to make?”
Jay lifts his head and rolls his eyes, “Still the only thing you care about I see.”

“You know that's not the only thing,” she coos out, overlapping a leg, forcing you to become

aware of their long leanness. I can't stop myself from staring at them, but it brings me some
satisfaction to know Stevie's are just as good.

Arianna's knees are too big.
Great, now I have pitifully resorted to demeaning her.
Does it make me feel better?
A little bit.
“I need something from Jaxon,” Jay begins, ignoring her advances. “I want to pay you to get it for

me.”

Her mouth gapes open, like she's in disbelief he's even asking, “My Jax? Jaxon Henley?”
“The one and only.”
“What exactly does Laz want from him?”
“Not Laz, Vault.”
Arianna licks her lips, “Oh really, what does he have to do with all this?”
“It's none of your business.”
She crosses her arms and pouts, “So typical of you to be discrete with everything, like you don't

know you can trust me. I'm your oldest friend and we've been lovers for almost as long.”

I cringe at the word lovers. I'm tempted to punch Jay when he glances my way and smirks when

he sees it. I'm glad my jealousy amuses him.

Jerk.
I scowl back at him and this only makes him grin. It catches Arianna attention and she darts a

quick glance at me, trying to hide a scowl of her own. Now Jay's smiling broadly at us both. He's
enjoying us being jealous of the other way too much.

“I don't trust anyone, you know that,” Jay gets her attention again, “Why tell a person more

information than is necessary.”

“Fine. What exactly does Vault,” she stops to lick her lips again, “want from him?”
“A file from his main computer. Do you know where that is and how to get in?”
“Of course I do. Did you forget who you're talking to?”
Jay laughs, “No one could forget that around you.” He gives her a flirtatious wink before

glancing my way. I glare at him and he looks elated. He is trying to make me jealous. I can't believe it.
What is this, the ninth grade?

“I'm sorry Jay, but I can't do it. I can't risk my relationship with Jax. I've got a good thing going

with him, he takes care of me. If I get caught I lose all this,” she waves her hand around. “Unless you
can pay me ten million to make it worth giving up what he offers me.”

My mouth drops open. Ten million? Damn, she doesn't mess around.
Jay starts scratching his scruff, face vacant, lost in thought. Is he considering paying her that

much? Yikes, how much money does he have?

“I won't be able to pay you up front. I'll most likely only be able to give you a few separate

payments.”

“I'm supposed to trust you, but you won't trust me?” She chides, “You would seriously pay me ten

million to get a file so you can keep her safe?” She nods in my direction.

“It's more complicated than that.”
It pleases me to see he skirts around answering a question with her too.
Arianna shifts back to looking at me, “Have you seen Vault?” There goes the lip licking again.
“Oh yeah,” I bite my lower lip and suck, remembering.

“Insanely gorgeous, right?”
“Definitely, like a Brad Pitt in Legends Of The Fall kind of way.”
She scrunches her brows, “I don't think I know who that is.”
My jaw plummets to the floor before rolling back up, “How the hell do you not know who Brad

Pitt is?”

“Oh wait, is he that guy who plays Heathcliff in that Wuthering Heights movie?”
How has she seen that but not know who Brad Pitt is?
“No, that’s Tom Hardy. I guess with lighter hair and a leaner figure Vault and him could look

alike. He'd also need Vault's divinely hot dimples.”

“Yes!” Arianna swoons, “He's the one guy I can't get to sleep with me.” Gloom shadows her face

and I laugh.

“Are you sure? I can't imagine any guy saying no to you.”
She frowns and I don't miss her taking a peek at Jay who is now the one pouting. Poor boy, must

be upset that we're not clawing each other to get to him.

“It's because he's afraid my parents would find out and he promised them he would never touch

me.”

“He did? Why?”
She leans in, ready to divulge the gossip, when Jay cuts in, “Can we please stay on topic?”
“You're such a party pooper.”
“Isn't he?” I agree, loving how annoyed Jay's getting.
“Honestly Jay, I don't want to risk it,” Arianna turns serious, “I like Jax. We have a lot of fun

together. Every time he's away on business he flies me out, completely taking care of me, buying me
anything I want. All I have to do is be available for sex and attend events with him. Best gig I've ever
had.”

“Fine. Tell me the password and I'll do it,” Jay replies, not appearing to be affected by her

turning him down.

“It's on his laptop that he keeps in his suite. Sorry Jay, but there is no way you'll go unnoticed. He

has bodyguards there at all times. I know a few people you could hire?” She offers.

Jay shakes his head, “No, I want as few people involved as I can.”
“Have Holly do it, or is it Lily?”
“Holly,” Jay confirms, “and no way, she doesn't have that kind of training.”
“Have her pretend to be housekeeping. I know you could easily get her a uniform and keycard.

His main guard's a sucker for brunettes and girls in red. She can wear a lacy red camisole that peeks
out at the top.”

“I can't go in there with a red under top on!” I declare, flabbergasted that she would even mention

such an idea.

She crinkles her nose in confusion, “Why not?”
“It would be like going in there with a red shirt on.”
Complete blank stare back at me.
Is she for real? “Do you know any pop culture?”
She shrugs, uncaring, “Not really.”
“No,” Jay continues, looking lost in thought, “It's too risky. She could get caught.”
“I'll bring a gun,” I offer. Am I seriously entertaining this notion? I don't know the first thing

about whatever the hell it is they want me to do. The fact that I don't know is even more of a reason I
should not be talking right now, but apparently my mouth seems to disagree, “I could pretend to get

faint and need to rest wherever he keeps his computer?”

Oh god, that's sounds beyond lame.
I'm even further humiliated by my comment when they both look at me like I'm an alien from

Mars.

Jay throws a hand up at me and lets it smack down on his thigh, “See? Not ready. She'll get

herself killed.”

“I'll coach her and I'll make sure to be there. I can sexually distract him – as you know, Jay, it

wouldn't be that hard,” she frowns when this doesn't get a reaction out of him. He's too busy placing
his hardened eyes on me, making me squirm from their intensity. It's not from fear, but something else;
it's on the opposite realm of fear. He's looking at me like an animal zoning in on his property that's
being threatened, and it's causing my body to have a strong reaction; It makes me want to pounce on
him and mate.

“Anyway, I can keep everyone distracted at the piano in his suite. She can be in and out in five

minutes...or a little more,” she adds after the fierce glare Jay gives her. “She can come out of his
private study he uses in the second bedroom and pretend to forget extra conditioner – that man goes
crazy on conditioner and requests extra everywhere he stays. She'll exit the suite with the file and
hurry back to you. Eventually they'll call it in and figure out she's not legit, but she'll be long gone by
then. ”

“No,” Jay firmly states, set in his decision.
“I don't know what other option you have. If you're worried about her getting caught you can

show her how to use a gun. Also, you can easily be waiting on standby, and have her out of there in
seconds if you hear gunshots. He usually only has two guards with him.”

“I know how to use a gun,” I feel the need to inform her for silly prideful purposes.
She snorts and rolls her eyes as if to say, “Super Soakers in the seventh grade don't count.”
“I can't have her recognized.” Jay's still zoning in on me and I'm about ready to rip all my clothes

off.

Arianna waves her hand dismissively, “Not a problem, I can prepare her today. I'll take her to

get her hair colored and cut, do her makeup, and we can get her a spray tan. You're lucky your
girlfriend's so cute, Jay. It won't take much to make her a bombshell and leave them thinking with their
dicks, not their heads.”

“I'm not his girlfriend,” I say at the exact same time Jay says, “She's not my girlfriend,” and we

both give the other a dirty look. I guess we have aged back to middle school.

Jay remains locked with me when he continues, “I refuse to let you dye or cut her hair, or tan her,

or do anything else that compromises her perfection.”

Holy shit, my insides are all mushy now.
Arianna was about to say more, but stops at his comment and stares at him for a moment or two

before continuing, “Fine. We can get her a wig and I'll go heavy on the makeup.”

When Jay scowls she rolls her eyes, “Makeup easily washes off.” She looks back and forth

between us, “I never thought I would see the day Jay takes possession over a woman.”

Both Jay and I snap our heads in her direction, which makes her laugh.
Jay's features shift as if something dawned on him. “Fuck,” he growls, “Finger prints.” He rubs

the scars on his face, “Shit, I can't believe I'm even talking about this. Forget I said anything, she's not
an option.”

“That's easy. She can wear latex gloves. I see housekeeping use them all the time.”
“I need a minute to think about this.” Jay gets up and retreats to the bedroom, closing the door

behind him.

I get up and follow. He doesn't stop me when he looks up from pacing the floor and I shut the

door for privacy.

“Baby, I can do this.”
I think...to be honest the idea is scaring the shit out of me.
He sinks down on the bed and puts his head in his hands, “I can't put you in danger like that. It's

exactly what I’ve been working to prevent.”

“Is there any other way?”
He sighs into his hands, “I could hire someone. I don't want my previous contacts to know I'm

here, so I'd have to go with someone new which will take awhile.” He looks up at me and gives me a
crooked smile, “Not sure if you noticed, but I have trust issues.”

I walk over and straddle him. I place both hands on his face, “Let's try me. If at any point I have a

tinge of concern I'll get the hell out of there.”

He tightly wraps his arms around my waist and rests his cheek on my chest. I move my hands to

hold him closer to my body.

“I like hearing you call me baby,” he confesses, low and raspy.
“I like it when you kiss me.” I figured I'd throw that in there if we're being honest with each

other.

He silently laughs, “I like that too. A lot.”
I run my nails over his hair, “Let me do this for you.”
“Give me a minute to think about it.”
I kiss the top of his head and leave him with his thoughts.
I sit back down in the same chair.
Arianna's biting her thumbnail, transfixed on the floor, “You're good for him.”
I'm too stunned to respond and she continues, “He never smiles, but he smiles around you. And he

talks. I think I've heard him talk more these past two days than I have the twelve years I've known
him.” She laughs in a way that people do when they are remembering a painful memory and her eyes
dampen, “I was once foolish enough to think I could be his one, that I was his one. I never was. I
never will be. I figured that out long ago.” She stops biting her nail and studies me, “You are, I can
tell. I've known him a long time. I've never seen him look at anyone the way he does you. I like that
you look at him with just as much love. The way he kissed you in that video...he's never kissed me
like that. Ever. In fact, when we were together he barely ever put his lips to mine.”

I reach over and hug her, taking her by surprise.
“Thank you,” I tell her with moistened eyes, not letting go. “I think I'm in love with him.”
“Sweetie,” she giggles, “you so totally are.”
We both laugh as we let go.
“I really wanted to hate you when I first saw you waiting at the table,” she admits, looking guilty,

“but I can't. It's not because of the way Jay is with you and how much I care about him and want only
the best for him, but because I like talking with you. I've never had girlfriends before. I've never
stayed in one place long enough, and the girls I do meet always think I'm going to try and steal their
men away from them. I never touch a man who's spoken for; I have morals,” she laughs before quickly
adding, “on some things.”

I give her just as guilty a look, “I hated you, too. In fact, I plotted your death a few times.”
This surprisingly earns a smile, “Good. Can we call it even?”
I extend my hand, “Deal.”

Instead of accepting it she pulls me in for another hug.
“I think I know why he won't tell you about Mark,” she whispers in my ear, “It scares him. He

lost the only two people he ever loved because of him, and he blames himself for their deaths. I think
he's afraid of losing you too.”

“What's the big deal with this guy?” I whisper back in her ear while we continue to hug.
“He's a contract killer. He kills the people nobody will go after. He's also twisted in the head,

and likes to play games to fuck with people.”

We separate and I search her eyes, hoping she will answer my next question with honesty, “Will

going after him get Jay killed?” I swallow into my dry throat.

She gives me a weak half-smile, “I hope not, but Mark always seems to be one step ahead of

everything.”

We hear the bedroom door open and Jay stands there with his hands on his hips, looking tired

and worn, “If we're going to do this, you need to brief her on what housekeeping does when they
come and clean, and anything else vital for her to pull this off.”

Chapter 31

8:16pm

I finish wiping my face from washing the day away. I can't help but observe Jay and take him in.

Tomorrow he'll have the file to give to Vault, and in return he'll get the dagger he needs to send me
home. I'll have to let him go all over again.

My chest caves in. I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to say goodbye again (not like I did it all that

well the first time around). How do I learn to let go and not have it crush me? I'm not sure that I can.

I need him, if only for tonight. Not sexually; I just need to feel him one last time.
I go to the side of his bed where he is watching the news and crawl on top of him, placing a bent

leg on both sides. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and bury my face in it's crevice. I breathe in
his scent and relish in the warmth of his body. His arms safely tuck me in and a hand starts stroking
my hair, the other securely embracing me. I breathe more of him in and soak in every memory I have
of him, praying I never forget a second of it.

“I love you,” I exhale, needing to get the words out, wanting him to know before I don't have the

chance to say it.

His lips move against my temple and it makes me tighten my hold around his neck, “If you're

worried about tomorrow, don't be. You don't have to do it. I'll find another way. I would prefer to
have to find another way.”

“That's not what this is about. After tomorrow this will all be over and I'll never see you again.

Last time I didn't get to say goodbye, or tell you how I'd never forget my time with you. I love you,
Jay. I wanted to tell you. I know it's only one-sided, but I still needed you to know.” I fight the tears
that are blurring my vision and cling even tighter to him.

Jay clutches me tighter as well, and the hand stroking my hair knots itself with the strands,

pressing my face firmly to him.

“I want to tell you a story about a six year old boy named Noah Baxter,” Jay inhales deeply

before letting it all out in one big whoosh across my temple, ruffling my hair, giving me the tingles I
will miss, “He had a beautiful mom, with long blond hair he loved to touch because of it's softness,
and the way it glowed like an angel's. She had a sweet, soft voice that never yelled, only soothed. She
called him her “perfect boy” even when he made mistakes or lashed out. This boy loved her macaroni
and cheese, and even as a grown man can remember the taste in his mouth.

“One day, the boy and his mom were coloring in the living room when cries of terror came from

outside. His mom rushed to the window and peeked out. The horror on her face frightened the boy. He
became scared when she yelled at him to go to his secret spot in the back of her closet. His mother
never yelled at him and he stayed rooted in shock. When she yelled a second time he obeyed and went
to the small, snug compartment his dad made him inside the closet wall and locked himself in. He
curled up into a ball, and as he waited for his mom to come get him he trembled and cried, wishing he
had grabbed his teddy to hold on to.

“In the distance he heard his mom cry out. It was a terrified cry. The boy had once promised his

dad he wouldn't leave his hideout until his mom or dad got him, but he couldn't let his mom be scared
and alone. He got out of his secret spot and went to the kitchen where he heard movement,” Jay stops
to take in a shaky breath. His arms are compressing my head against him and all I can see are his

bicep and chest. “He found a man, a bad man. He knew he was because this man scared him more
than the villains in his cartoons. The man wasn't as tall as his dad, and where his dad was big, this
man's muscles were long and lanky. His skin was as pale as a ghost's. His thin blond hair just as light,
coming a little past his ears in waves. He wore black, round spectacles that burrowed into his eye
sockets. His lips reminded the boy of when he had cherry popsicles and his lips turned red, but on
this man the red lips terrified him. He wore all black, and his tank top made visible a tattoo that
snaked around his neck and down his shoulders; it was the heads of dragons. The boy would later
learn this tattoo started on his back as the body of a three headed dragon.

“That's what the boy saw as he took in the man who had his mom. She was crying and trembling.

He had a hand to her throat. The boy froze in fear, because on that hand he had a leather band that
wrapped around his wrist and three straps that came up his three middle fingers like a glove. At the
tips, over his nails, were three gold claws. They looked sharp; sharper than the knives his daddy kept
in the drawer he wasn't allowed to go in.

“He believed what happened next could have been prevented if only he had been braver. It

wouldn't be until almost a decade later that he realized it was a blessing he couldn't call out to his
mom and let her know he was there. It would have caused her more pain to know her son had seen the
way she died. A six year old could never have prevented that man from taking those three claws and
digging them along his mother's throat, blooding pouring out all over her.

“The mean man dropped her to the ground, limp like a rag doll. It was then that the mean man

noticed the little boy, and it was then that fear left the boy and rage took over. The boy was fast –
always had been. He went into the drawer he wasn't allowed, grabbed a knife, and attacked the evil
man who hurt his mom. But he was six, and this man was taller and stronger; he was easily able to
grab hold of the boy. The boy still thought he had a chance, and sunk the blade of his knife into the
man's stomach. The evil man looked shocked, and then his mouth curled up into a smile, dark and
twisted, and it scared the boy to the extent he wet himself. The evil man grabbed the knife and threw
it. He pointed a clawed finger at the boy and dragged it along the boy's right temple. The boy cried
out for his mommy because this was pain like he had never felt before. The evil man gave him another
sinister smile and told him, “You have been marked,” then knocked the boy unconscious.

“When he woke he scurried to his mom, whose blood was now all over the kitchen floor in one

big thick puddle. The boy remembered his mom teaching him to call nine-one-one if anything bad ever
happened. He used the phone his mom had left on the kitchen table, and when the police answered he
cried into the phone that some evil man hurt his momma and she won't answer when he calls her
name. He was able to tell the man on the phone where he lived. He felt proud when they told him
what a brave boy he was and how impressive it was that he could remember his address.

“He went back to his mom. Her eyes were open, and he didn't understand why she wasn't moving

or why she wouldn't talk to him. The boy hugged his mom, crying, begging her to answer him. He
remembered his promise to his dad to call him day or night if he needed him and he would be there.
The boy got the phone again, his hands covered in his mom's blood that hid the numbers as he tried to
dial. His dad picked up on the first ring. The boy tried to tell his dad but his head hurt too much, it felt
like it was splitting in half and everything started to get fuzzy looking. The boy managed out a soft
“dad” before passing out.

“The next thing he remembers is waking up in an ambulance, and then fragments of him crying for

his mom and getting stitches on his temple. The police asked him questions, but the boy refused to
answer until his mommy could be there. When they told him his mom was gone, the boy thought she
must be with his dad – his mommy loved his dad, she was always her most happiest when he was

home. He still refused to talk, saying he'll wait for them, and didn't say any more, not even when they
asked him what his name was or if he had any other family.

“That night he had to sleep in the hospital, which was really scary, and he missed his mom and

didn't understand why she still hadn't come for him.

“Some time during the night his dad came, picked the boy up, and left. The boy's dad finally made

him understand his mom was dead. He cried for a long time, and when he finally stopped, he never
cried again. Over the years his sadness turned ugly and dark, becoming an all-consuming hatred for
the man who killed his mom.

“His dad was always having them travel, but would never tell him why or what he did. He would

leave his son alone for hours and hours at a time in their hotel room.

“One day the boy – now eight – decided to follow him and watched his father go to a man's huge

mansion. On this particular day the man was sitting under a maple tree in his backyard. He watched
his father pull out a gun and shoot the three other men standing close by in the head before shooting
the man under the tree. The boy remained hiding behind a bush after he watched his father leave, not
understanding why his dad would do such a thing. He eventually decided to go back to their hotel,
hoping his father would have a good explanation. He found his dad pacing the room. When he saw the
boy he collapsed to his knees and pulled the boy into his arms – the only hug they ever shared and the
first human contact the boy had had since his mother's death – but he didn't like being held and pushed
away. It wouldn’t be until he was a grown man that he sought comfort from the arms of another, a
woman, with a smile that made him come alive,” Jay pauses and I wipe the tears from my face that
have now drenched his shirt and mine.

“That was the day Noah Baxter became Jay Lincoln, and the day his father told him what he did:

he killed people for money. The boy wanted to know who he had killed and his father told him it was
men with power and money, usually bad men. That's when the boy found out his father was the reason
his mother died. His father was one of the best contract killers you could hire. He had started to
refuse jobs, trying to get away from that life because he wanted to be with the woman he loved and
their child he loved just as deeply. One man he had continually worked for didn't take it so well when
he informed him he was done. The man hired Kolme Dragoni, also known as The Marker, to kill the
boy's mother, knowing he was the only man who would do it. His father had too many colleagues that
respected him and wouldn't cross that line.

“Hiring Dragoni comes at a cost. He has an obsession with the number three. When he makes a

kill he must kill three people within three minutes of each other, ending with the person he was hired
to kill. It's a guarantee your target will die, but the other two are his choices. They could be good,
bad, men, women, children, it does not matter to him; he must kill in threes. It's also done when ever
and how ever he chooses. After he has made his three killings he will not kill more. It is in that time
one may try to kill him. They all fail. He's too smart, too calculating. It's all a big game to him. After
you fail to kill him he leaves a mark on your face: the first one on the temple, the second on the start
of the brow, and final down the middle of the eye. The third mark is the final mark. This lets him
know how many times they have come after him, how many chances they get to try and kill him before
he kills them. He wants people to come find him; he gets off on it. Most stop at their first mark,
similar to the boy's story they attacked out of hurt and anger, but there are the rare few who want their
revenge and they join his sick game, trying to kill him, thinking they will eventually outsmart him.

“That was the moment the boy's life changed; he wanted revenge on Dragoni. It would become

his obsession, what fueled everything he did in his life. His father sensed his determination and strong
will because it was a trait that resounded in himself. He promised to help his son and train him to be

a lethal killer. The boy had no interest in becoming his father, but he wanted to learn all he could so
one day he could take down The Marker. The boy went with his father on all his jobs to see him in
action, to learn from him, and assist him when needed.”

Jay paused again and took in deep breaths, stroking my hair. My mind has become dizzy trying to

absorb and process all that he's telling me.

“Why did he change his name to Jay Lincoln?” The words came out throaty and constricted from

the intensity of this moment, from hearing Jay's story and the fact that he's finally opening up to me.

“The day he became Jay Lincoln, his father told him nobody knew Noah Baxter existed but his

mom and him. If he was going to enter this life he must choose a new name. The boy wanted to be
called Jalena after his mother, but his father convinced him that when he was older he wouldn't want
a girl's name. He suggested the name Jay and for the last name they went with his father's.”

My heart's breaking for the little boy in this story who holds me in his arms. I didn't know I could

feel this much pain from hearing about the heartache of another, but then I have never loved someone
the way I love Jay; I didn't know love this deep existed. His pain is my pain.

“When he was fifteen,” Jay takes another deep inhale as he continues his story, “the boy

considered it fate when a job he and his father had been given happened to put him in the same path as
Dragoni.

“His father was following his mark, learning his routine, finding the best time to make his move.

The boy was bored of following his dad around so he had him rent a car – the boy had been driving
since he was tall enough to reach the pedals. He drove along the coast, going wherever he felt the
urge to drive. Eventually, he stopped at a place for lunch. As luck would have it, on the other side of
the restaurant sat Dragoni, casually sipping his soup like he was just another average civilian.

“The boy's blood boiled and all he could see was the venomous-red hatred that leaked out of his

pores, flowing out into the restaurant. It was strong enough for Dragoni to sense. When he looked up
to meet his glare he gave the boy his evil smirk, because he recognized what the scar on his temple
meant and he was ready to play. The Marker was fast and was out the door before the boy had a
chance to stand. The boy quickly followed, not thinking, not calculating his moves, only running on
pure adrenaline and lust for revenge. He followed The Marker as he headed down to the ocean from
the cliffs. He rushed down too quickly, losing his footing and falling all the way down, slicing his arm
and cutting up his back along the way. It hurt like a motherfucking bitch but he didn't slow down. He
only stopped to remove his shirt and wrap it around his arm, hoping to stop some of the bleeding. So
very stupid of him to still go after Dragoni, because he's a well trained fighter and you need your full
mind and body to go up against him. Dragoni stopped at a secluded part of the beach and waited for
the boy to catch up. The boy reached for his gun, but Dragoni is a master at thrown weaponry and had
the gun knocked out of his hand with a knife before he could aim it, nicking the inside of his hand,”
Jay let go of my head to show me the scar running along his palm. I'm surprised I never noticed
before. I trace it with my finger before he places his arm back to hide my face, like he's trying to
shield me from what happened.

“They went to hand to hand combat. Dragoni was a fighter like the boy had never seen, and has

yet to see again. The boy was rapidly fading from the cliff almost slicing him to the bone and the
banging he was getting from their fight. His left eye was swelling shut and he knew he didn't have
long before he would lose. Inch by inch he lead The Marker to the ocean. Once he felt the water hit
his shoes he dove under, trying to ignore the stinging of his wounds. He grabbed Dragoni by his
ankles and took him under. He tried to drown Dragoni, but a sleeper wave came and sucked them both
back under the water. The boy fought for his life against the ocean, but the riptide was taking him

further and further away from the shore. Just when he thought his lungs would explode he made it to
the surface. He fought his way back to shore, thinking death might feel better than the burning in his
lungs and body. He laid face down in the sand, sure death was going to overtake him. When he finally
felt like he could breathe again he looked around, but Dragoni was nowhere in sight. The boy let
himself believe he had done it, he had killed The Marker. Then Dragoni was standing over him,
leaning down to put a hand to his throat, practically choking him as he spoke, “That was fun. I almost
died out there.” He dug a gold claw into the boy, giving him his second mark. The boy was too tired
to care if he marked him or killed him, he had nothing left in him. Dragoni got more in his face and
smirked in the evil way that he does, “You have one more chance, boy, and then I finish you. Next
time, be better prepared.” He vanished, the boy too exhausted to do anything about it.

“For the boy's third attempt, he planned for it. He was twenty when they came across a man to

hire Dragoni. In exchange, the boy would guarantee the person he wanted dead died at no cost to him.
The boy and his father followed the man Dragoni was hired to kill to a fundraiser. They led the man
away from the party to a private room, knowing Dragoni would be watching his mark and follow.
They knew he would be thrilled he had an easy three kills lined up for him. What the boy and his
father failed to realize is that Dragoni recognized the boy's body and how it moved, despite their
clever disguises. The Marker grabbed a woman exiting the bathroom near the empty room the boy and
his father were hiding in and sliced her throat with his claws. The boy and his father ambushed The
Marker when he entered the room, one on each side, pointing guns to his temples. Dragoni took his
claws and sliced open the father's throat, taking the boy by surprise and making it easy for The
Marker to get the gun away from him. He told the boy not to attack him before he killed the
unconscious man on the floor or he would kill him instead. The boy stepped aside, and the minute the
man was dead the boy started throwing ninja stars at Dragoni, successfully planting three in his
stomach, but it was as though Dragoni felt no pain as he moved for the boy. Once again they went to
hand to hand combat. Even after all the boy's training, he still wasn't on the same level of fighting.
Dragoni fractured his ribs, dislocated his shoulder, and broke his right hand. The boy did get the
throwing stars jabbed deeper into The Marker's flesh and broke his left leg, but it wasn't enough. The
Marker had him to the ground and gave him his final mark before knocking him out. The Marker left
the room, and the husband of the woman he had killed, a man by the name Benedict Cole, was
hovering over her. Benedict knew who Kolme Dragoni was and attacked on rage and heartbreak. The
Marker, deeply wounded but still a fighter, easily fought against Benedict, giving him his first mark
before sending him unconscious.

“When the boy awoke, he was faced with the sight of another parent he loved dead in a pool of

blood. Instead of realizing the need for revenge had killed his father and quitting, it only fortified his
determination and anger. Benedict found the boy laying next to his father's dead body, soaked in his
blood, and brought him to his private doctor. The boy knew this man and had never seen anyone in as
much agony as he was over the loss of his wife. The boy would never forget his eyes that day. The joy
and humor he'd always had for life was gone. The boy knew Cole's wife's death was on his hands too.
Benedict did not blame the boy, insisting that she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, but
the boy knew better. Both his father and Cole's wife had died because of his obsession to kill
Dragoni, and he would have to live with that guilt for the rest of his life.”

Chapter 32

9:03pm

The tears don't stop falling, coming down one after another, silent but strong, “Jay, I-”
Jay silences me, “The story's not over yet. I want you to hear the happy ending; I think you will

like how this story ends.”

I nod my head and sniffle.
Jay softly kisses my temple before continuing, “For the next five years, the boy – who was now a

man – isolated himself, traveling from city to city. He did this for two reasons: to follow a lead on
The Marker, or because he had been in a place for too long and didn't want people who knew him to
find him. He wanted to be left alone to focus solely on avenging his parent's death. He was never
happy, never sad, occasionally angry if someone pissed him off. He was basically a machine, training
himself to take down a killer, never feeling emotion. In fact, he thought anger and revenge were the
only emotions he had left.

“Then one Christmas, his life changed. He was on his computer, doing his daily investigation of

where The Marker might be, when someone knocked on the door. The minute he opened it his life
was forever changed. There stood this tiny, beautiful, cute girl, and he was inexplicably drawn to her.
He watched her take in his appearance, and for the first time he hated how scary he could look.
Instead of trying to soften for her, he became annoyed because he had never felt whatever strange
thing was going on in his body when he looked at her. When he studied her and saw her cower back
in fear of him it hurt his feelings. He hadn't had hurt feelings since he was Noah. The hurt turned into
anger, an emotion he was more comfortable with, and he sent her running home terrified of him. The
next few hours he went from lifting weights to pacing his house, trying to get the girl's big, round,
innocent eyes out of his head.

“There was another knock on his door and there she stood, food in her hands, looking nervous

and shy, but not frightened. He was shocked; girls like her always avoided him. When she spoke, her
voice soothed every nerve in his body.

“He spent the night dreaming of her shy smile and innocent eyes. He couldn't get her out of his

head, and it was annoying to him because he couldn't place what it meant. He had never had a crush
before and had no idea what that strange feeling in the pit of his stomach was when he thought of her.
It only irked him and made him feel weak.

“A few days later, a group of men attacked this woman behind the bar he worked at. That was the

most intense rage he had ever experienced; he wanted to rip their heads off with his bare hands, but
the girl was there and he didn't want her to witness death. He wanted those sweet, innocent eyes to
stay that way. He sent them on their way, giving them a false sense of safety until he could hunt them
down and finish 'em.”

He pauses for a long time, and I decide to ask, “How do you stomach it?”
“I've been watching shit worse than that since I was eight. Death and blood are as common for

me as air and water.” Jay lets out another long exhale, “That night he brought the girl home. His heart
felt like it was being ripped out of his chest when he saw how weak and scared she looked sitting in
his truck. He wanted to comfort her, but he hadn't the first clue how. Then the girl followed him into
his house and started to fall asleep on his couch. He couldn't let her sleep there; it didn't feel right to

him. Someone like her deserved better than his shitty-ass couch. He brought her to his bed and she
made him get in with her. This made him nervous. Any of the people from his past would have pissed
their pants from laughing at Link being nervous around someone, but this girl made him feel all sorts
of things he didn't understand. She cuddled under his arm and rested her cheek on his chest. It sent him
into a bit of a panic attack, but with every passing second he liked the feel of her in his arms, and he
liked knowing she was in his bed where nobody could touch her and she was safe.

“He couldn't shake himself of her. Despite his best efforts, the more time he spent with her the

more time he needed to be with her. The more she was around, the more he came alive. The day they
made pie together was one of the best days of his life.

“That same day, he watched her fall asleep in his arms and couldn't get over how perfect she

was. He never wanted to leave that couch. He wanted to spend the rest of his life there, watching her
come and making it happen. He loved seeing the rosy glow on her cheeks, knowing he put it there, and
the sweat glistening along her hair line from him pleasuring her so thoroughly. He knew nobody's
perfect, but she was his form of perfection.

“He had fallen for the girl; he was drowning in everything about her. When it was time for him to

move on to a new location, he didn't think he would survive the pain in his chest. Right before he left
he went on a rampage through the place he rented, not caring about the damage. He was full of bitter
anger at everyone who had ever entered his life: his father for bringing him into his lifestyle, his
mother for falling in love with him, The Marker for his fucked up game, the people whom he knew
would find him if he stayed in one place for too long. Mostly he hated himself for falling in love,
because now he had had a taste of what happiness and peacefulness felt like.

“All he could think about as he drove was her. God, it hurt how much he already missed her.”

Jay buries his face in my neck, “He missed the way she smelled.” He takes in a deep breath, “So
fucking good.”

His words cause me to smile. I think he feels it on his skin because he smiles too and I can feel it

on mine.

“He missed the way she tastes,” the tip of Jay's tongue trails up my neck and his lips brush across

mine. His next words breathe into my mouth, “He missed her mouth and the amazing things she could
do with it. He missed her warm, welcoming, big, brown eyes. They were the only set of eyes to ever
truly see him, and know him in ways he was just beginning to learn and understand about himself.” He
kisses both my lids. I'm so blissed out on love for him while I soak in his words and tender touches.
He drags his hands along my thighs, stopping at my bottom. “The feel of her skin,” Jay whispers in my
ear. He grabs both bottom cheeks and slightly lifts them, “How it feels to be inside her.” Still firmly
grasping my ass in his hands, he rubs me against his erection and we both moan loudly. After a few
more glides he wraps his arms around my waist and now we stare, lost in a trance, “but most of all he
missed her, and how she felt like home-”

My mouth is on his before he has the chance to say more. I can't stop myself after the way he

completely opened up to me and told me things that have me falling even harder for him. My tongue
takes over, but Jay doesn't seem to mind. We kiss at a frantic pace, trying to catch up on all the kisses
we've missed out on.

My shirt's immediately removed and I copy, removing his. His fingers hook under the waistband

of my undies and he starts to tug them off, but hesitates, “Is this okay?” His uncertainty surprises me.
It's like he's not sure if I want him that way anymore, “There's more to the story. I can go back to
telling it?”

I unclasp myself from him and get off the bed. My eyes never leave his as I remove my panties,

then proceed to help him remove his bottoms.

He takes my sides and pauses to lazily graze down my body, taking in my naked form. The hunger

in his eyes intensifies before pulling me back on him, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I feel his
erection between my legs, throbbing and hard, and I wiggle in excitement.

Jay softly kisses me before lifting me up and sliding me down on him.
“Oh god,” we both groan into each other's mouth as I slowly become full of him inside me. Once

he is all the way in I relax on top of him and we breathe heavily, exchanging air as we enjoy his
thickness inside me. It's not about sex in this moment, it's about connecting, feeling a part of the other
in an intimate way. We kiss some more as I keep still, every so often clenching around him, making us
both moan.

I slowly start to move my hips.
Jay brings his lips to my ear, “As the days passed he almost turned back a dozen times, but every

time he thought of it his foot accelerated more, until he couldn't take it any longer and headed back for
her. On the fourth day – oh fuck, that feels good,” Jay rolls his head back as my hips go up and slowly
come down, walls clenched, making small circles as he returns to his story, “On the fourth day he was
eating breakfast, staring out the window, trying to think of ways he could be with her. That would
involve her knowing who he was and putting her life in danger. He was terrified that once she knew
he could kill without blinking an eye she wouldn't want him anymore – oh shit,” Jay hisses in my ear,
his nails digging into my sides as I continue moving up and down.

“Do you feel how wet I am for you?”
He can only grunt in response, his eyes rolling back. I want to say more, to tell him how what he

did doesn’t matter because I see the real him, but I’m too lost in my lust for him. I've been craving this
connection with him, when we let our bodies speak for us.

The more I pick up speed the further up Jay's hands come until they're knotted in my hair, our

foreheads and noses firmly pressed together.

“He loves her. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but he knew the second he saw her she

was different. He doesn’t know why. Maybe it's what happens when you meet your destiny, or maybe
they call it love at first sight merely because the minute you see that person you know your life will
never be the same again, and his won't.” He shifts us in one graceful, effortless move, and I'm now on
my back with him on top, my legs still wrapped around him. He dips his head down to trail kisses
from my collarbone to my ear, where he nibbles, his hips unmoving and putting enough pressure on
me that I can't move mine. All I can do is enjoy the exquisite feeling of being filled by him. When I try
to rock my hips he puts more pressure on my lower half and I whimper in protest.

“I need to slow this down, I was about to come in that position. I want to make this last.” His lips

trail back down to the base of my neck. He buries his head, inhaling more of me. He rocks back and
forth into me a few times before stopping. My whole body screams for him to keep going as my
emotions go from bliss to a magnified state of euphoria from hearing his confessions.

I force his head up to meet my lips and I kiss him. I hope he understands that I'm trying to tell him

how much it means to me that he's finally letting me in.

“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask, breaking our lips apart.
“Because, baby, revenge is an ugly seed, and once it's planted it soaks into your veins, feeding

off your cells until they grow as black and dark as it is, eventually casting an ominous mask over your
soul. That's what my life had become until you. I can't say goodbye again, but I can't have my revenge
and have you. I choose you,” his hips start to rock in and out, harder and faster with every thrust.

“Yes, Jay! Please!” I cry, not sure if it's wanting him to keep going or wanting him to choose me.

It's both. I want both, and I'm feeling greedy so I take it. I lift my ass up, clenching my ab muscles,

making them pull up to move him in deeper.

Oh shit that feels good.
I do it again but put more of a thrust into it and we both start clawing at each other as our

climaxes build.

He's in deep and his cock starts to pulsate and enlarge; I know he's as close as I am.
“Come for me, Jay. I need to feel you come inside me.”
I want him to plant himself deep inside me. I want to know he's a part of me, that his seed's what

fills my body. Maybe it's the cave-woman in me, or maybe I want it because of his metaphor for
revenge. Whatever the reason, I want to know that it's him who consumes me.

“Oh fuck, Lily,” Jay's cheek smashes against mine. All I can hear are his heavy, ragged, choppy

breaths, and all I can feel are his erratic, possessive thrusts that make my head spin. He shudders,
shoving one last thrust inside me before spilling into me, filling me to my core. “Want to know when
he knew he would never need anything as badly as he needed her?”

Still being semi-hard, he picks up his movement again.
“God, yes!” I cry again, both for the release I feel coming and for the answers only he can give

me.

His thrusts stop.
No! I'm so very close. I begin to sweat in my need for relief.
His lips forcefully crush against mine, then lighten up a notch but don't lose contact, “The first

time you came for me. It was so fucking beautiful. You relinquished your whole body to me and I
never wanted to own something more in my life.”

His thrusts start up again, moving in a way that sends me wild and needy.
“Jay!” I cry for the thousandth time, digging into his shoulder blades, taking skin with me.
“I wanted to own your heart,” thrust, “your mind,” another thrust, followed by a groan from me,

“your sweet as sin body,” heavy deep thrust that has me on the verge of peaking, “I wanted your
soul,” he pulls all the way out and hovers over me, waiting for me to open my eyes and lock with his,
“I wanted to own those things, because in that moment you owned every fucking part of me, and you
still do.”

He pushes hard inside of me, and when he whispers the words “I love you” it sends me spiraling,

lost in the most intense roller-coaster of an orgasm that has my back arching, my nails cutting into his
skin, my toes curling, and lungs screaming out his name.

“Just like that, Lily,” he murmurs in my ear. “I love watching you completely give yourself to

me.”

Sliding his finger inside of me, he pulls it out and brings them to his lips, tasting us together,

“Even better than I remembered.” He grins at me before pressing his lips to mine.

“What happens now?” I dreamily ask as I float somewhere in heaven.
“What ever you want to happen; you own me. ” He pulls me back up to sitting and brings me to

his arms. I go back to straddling him while he leans against the headboard.

I watch my fingers trail along his shoulders and neck. I can't look at him as I begin to speak,

“Anything I want?”

“Anything” his voice low, gruff, and needy. “Just tell me what you want.”
“I want you to cuddle me all night.”
He raises a brow, “Only tonight?”
I watch my thumb stroke the skin under his ear. “I want you with me every night until we get

bored of each other.”

Jay puts his hands behind his head, causing his muscles to bulge out. I can't help but play with the

bumps of his ab muscles, which gets me wanting him again.

“So, what you're saying is you want me wrapped around you for the rest of our lives?”
I sneak a glance at him under my lashes while I shyly watch my fingers and hands. I'm nervous

and excited about responding.

“Yes,” my response is throaty and comes out as more of a croak. Even after all that he has

confessed to me, I'm still nervous about being rejected.

“Done,” he growls, rolling so he's on top of me, crushing my body under his. He buries himself

deep inside my walls, hands getting tangled in my hair, face smothered in my neck, and we begin to
make love. It's a hazy state of slow and sweet thrusts until I whisper to Jay, “I love you,” and it turns
our love making into a carnal beast.

Jay straightens his body up and drives harder into me, making us both scream out from the impact

and pleasure. He takes my bent-up knees and spreads them as far as they will go. His thumb begins
playing with my nub, driving me wild once again. We keep our eyes locked together to watch the
others' face as it takes pleasure from the other. I notice the surge of love he is finally able to freely
express that makes his irises dilate and inflame.

He's pounding me now and I sense he's getting closer, but I'm not ready for him to come. I want

him to ride this wave with me and see how far we can take it.

I stop him and move on all fours in front of him, “I want to taste myself on your cock.”
This has Jay’s eyes scorching me with shameless greed as he drunkenly licks his lips. I lower my

head and a growl rumbles in his chest. He holds my hair back to watch me take him in my mouth.

One of my hands takes hold of his erection and the other supports me on the bed. I suck and pull

him deep into my mouth to the back of my throat. His breathing becomes a mix of grunts and
breathless pants the deeper and harder I suck.

He leans his body to the right and bends over me to grab hold of an ass cheek. He lifts his hand

up and lets his palm come down to smack it, making me groan and suck harder. He does it again and
the stinging pain makes my eyes roll back from how good it feels. A finger slides between my cheeks
towards my wetness, moving it around before slipping inside. The wonderful way it feels makes me
fall forward in ecstasy, taking him all the way in.

“Holy fucking hell, Lily,” He half whimpers, half grunts.
He slaps my ass and takes a firm hold of it in his hand, giving it a shake before slapping it again.

He then uses that hand to take hold of my hair and yank it back to lift me up. His mouth forcefully
collides with mine and he hungrily bites and sucks my lips. He begins kissing me with enough
cohesion I can't breathe.

When we both need more oxygen he pulls my head back by my hair. I stare at him, completely

intoxicated.

“Face the headboard and hold on.”
I immediately do what he asks, facing the wall on my knees and holding on to the top of the

wooden bed.

Jay doesn't waste any time and slams into me. He takes hold of my breasts for support while he

continues to ram into me. The closer we get, the tighter I hold on, and the tighter he holds my breasts
the more the pain adds to my enjoyment. The harder he penetrates me, the closer to euphoria I get. As
we both start to come, he wraps an arm under my breasts, pushing them up as he takes hold of my
side, nails digging into my skin. He rests his forehead on my head, his fingers working between my

legs. Both our hips pound into each other, me backwards and him forwards. We start spiraling into an
orgasm that transports us into a state of delirium and floating in pure ecstasy.

For the longest time, all we can do is stay still while our hearts and breathing return from primal

and untamed to steady and consistent.

“What the hell was that?” Jay heavily breathes out.
“Nirvana,” I exhale.
“Yeah...wow...”
We stay unmoving for another few minutes, then we slide down and hold each other for a few

more.

“Come shower with me.”
I shake my head, “I don't think I can move.” My whole body feels like putty.
Jay laughs softly, “Good point.” He reaches for the covers to pull over us and halfway up he

pauses, “Uh, babe? Was I too rough on you?”

I can barely move my head to look at him, “No, why?”
“My hand print is all over your ass.”
“Mmm...” I mumble, burying my face in my pillow, ready to drift off, “Good.”
Jay kisses it and works his way up my arm and neck as he pulls the sheets the rest of the way up.

He lightly moves my shoulder and peers at my chest, “You sure I didn't hurt you? Your breasts are
bright red from my hands.”

“Uh huh, I loved it.”
Jay quietly chuckles, “What is it about us that makes our bodies and minds lose control and we

feel everything to the extreme?”

“Who cares, I'm just glad we do.”
Jay kisses my temple before cocooning me in his arms. I feel his breath on me and I start to drift

off as I hear him tell me, “You and me, Lily. We're forever. I'm never giving you up.”

I make a silent prayer that he doesn't.

Chapter 33

Friday, January 24
6:02am

I awaken to Jay strumming my back. I take a moment to enjoy being in his arms. We spent all

night making love and he answered any and all questions I had, not hiding anything from me.

I found out the reason he kept The Marker a secret from me and what happened was because he

knew how deeply he cared for me. He wanted me as separate from that man as he could. He was also
terrified that if I knew about him and the game they were playing he would lose me forever.

I talked openly about how hurtful it was when he left me and how it affected me. That tore him

apart. He told me he hadn’t known how to cut loose from me without turning cold and withdrawn. He
couldn’t handle the emotions he felt for me; it was easier for him to shut me out. I could tell the guilt
was still eating at him for the pain he had caused me, pain he had vowed to himself he'd never be the
source of. Then he made love to me with a tenderness that had me crying. (I think at this point I need
to just embrace that I'm a highly emotional person. I mean really, who cries during sex?) Lucky for
me, Jay doesn't make me feel embarrassed or uncomfortable about it. He fully accepts and loves me
for all that I am.

Jay still carries guilt over Vault's dead wife. I can't say that I blame him, I would feel guilty too.

They probably wouldn't have died if he had gotten past his revenge. It's a demon Jay will always have
to live with. It shows the kind of man Vault is that he can forgive Jay and still offer to help him find a
better life.

None of Jay's story changes the way I feel about him. I'm not sure what kind of person that makes

me, but I don't care. I'm not looking to fix him and what's broken. I only want to love him and
hopefully teach him the same self-worth he taught me. He's such a deep and intense person who feels
things stronger than he wants to allow himself. He needs to let go and enjoy his life, to learn to let
people in, and to realize what an incredible heart he has; it only goes dark because he forces it to.

I'm also worried I won't be enough for him, like Arianna telling me adventure and adrenaline is

their “crack.” I can't offer him those things. I'm not sure a life with me will be good enough for him.
Even though I know how much he loves me now, it doesn't ease my concerns. I want children one day,
and I can't see Jay ever wanting that. He's had a hard enough time letting me in, I think kids would
terrify him. I'm also afraid that he'll always be looking over his back, worried someone is looking for
him or coming after me, which could certainly be a valid concern.

I want this to work. I'm determined to make this work. I love Jay more deeply than I ever thought

was possible, and you can't let love like that go.

“Baby, you awake?” I ask softly, still having a million more unanswered questions.
Jay mumbles something incoherent and my guess is he's still half-asleep.
“If you knew you loved me, why did you seem upset outside of the bank when I told you I could

never change my mind about how I feel for you?”

“I thought you were still upset with me for leaving and getting you kidnapped. I didn't exactly

make the best exit when I left.”

I scoot up from being wrapped on top of him and trail my fingers along his scruff, staring at his

lips, “I meant I would never stop loving you.”

Jay grabs my wrist and kisses my palm, “I don't fucking deserve you, Lily.”
I rest my mouth on his, “Yes. You do.” I put more pressure on his lips and let my tongue slip

inside to tease his. His hands reach down to dig into my bare butt cheeks and our mouths become
more forceful and demanding as we disappear into our own little world.

6:42am

Jay's head is resting on my chest, listening to my heart rate go down after our morning romp. His

hand keeps stroking along my side from the top to my mid-thigh while I do the same to his back.

“How do you know Lazra?” I wonder if one day the questions will stop and I'll know everything

about him? I actually hope the answer is no, I like the idea of having a lifetime to unlock Jay Lincoln.

“She owns some brothels and kink clubs.”
I snort back my laughter.
He jiggles my body, “What?” He looks up at me and his brows hit the top of his hair line and his

eyes bug out, “Oh...shit! That's not how I know her!” He chuckles and shakes his head, “I was only
informing you of what she does. She has a lot of money, and anyone with an enormous amount of
wealth has enemies. Lazra used to contract my dad for most of her kills, but she's a little crazy...it's
hard to fully explain. You would have to meet her to understand, and that will never happen,” he
informs me.

I smack him on the back of the head, “I didn't even ask to.”
He kisses between my breasts, “Long story short, she's not quite right in the head and my dad

stopped doing hits for her.”

We cuddle in silence while I try and get the courage to ask my next question.
“How's this going to work?” I finally ask, moving my hand up to run my fingers along his scalp.
“What?” His hand starts creeping around to stroke the side of my breast. For a minute I almost

forget I'm trying to have a conversation with him as I eagerly wait for him to fully cup me in his hand.

“You and me? Are you still getting Lazra the dagger?”
He stops his movement, “No, but we still have to get Vault the file. There is no way around that.

Once you promise him something there's no going back on your word.”

“But if we don't get her what she wants, won't that put us in danger?”
Jay sighs heavily and moves his hand up further to play with my hair, “Yes.”
“Oh,” is all I manage to get out.
“I'm going to have to kill her,” he states flatly.
“Oh,” is still all I seem capable of.
“I've given this a lot of thought lately. I'm going to have you stay with Vault while I take care of

her. It shouldn't take longer than a week. Is that okay?”

“And then we get to be together?”
“Yeah.”
“How are you going to keep anyone else from seeking you out?”
“I'm still trying to figure that out.” He scoots up so we are eye level and his eyes search mine, “If

this is too much for you, tell me. You don't have to be with me. I can promise you though, I will never
let anything bad happen to you again.”

“Baby,” I sigh, stroking his cheek with the back of my hand, “You can't make promises like that.

You're only setting yourself up for disaster. You can't avoid bad things happening to anybody, which

is a good thing; it makes the sweet that much sweeter.”

He closes his eyes tightly, “I can still try.”
I take hold of his face, forcing him to look at me, “Stop. Don't put that kind of pressure on

yourself. You will end up driving us both crazy.” Now it's my turn to squeeze my eyes shut, and I keep
them that way while I talk, “I'm worried I'm not going to be enough to keep you happy.”

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters, burying his face in my neck, “I'm so fucking tired. All the time. For

years. It's not like that with you. You're all I need to be happy. You're all I'll ever need.”

“That's what's scaring me. That won't last forever. One day you'll need more than just me, and

that's not a bad thing. It's inevitable.”

He lifts his head and gives me a wicked grin with twinkling eyes, “I have a plan for that too.”
I match his expression, “Oh really? And what's that?”
He pecks my lips, “I'm not ready to share the details, but I've been thinking this out for a long

time.”

I have a feeling him keeping stuff from me will always be an issue for us.
I raise a brow at him and challenge, “How long?”
I receive another wicked grin, “When I took you with me to the old racetrack. I loved sharing that

moment with you. It got me thinking about what a life with you would be like, then you fucking kissed
me and I was doomed.”

I giggle as he starts to nibble down my neck.
“You destroyed me with that kiss, babe. Fucking destroyed me.”
The next thing I know, he's inside me and we're making love.

Chapter 34

8:24am

I take one last look in the mirror inside the suite's bathroom Jay had gotten for us an hour ago. He

had to pay extra so they would let us in before check-in. It's on the same level as Jax's at The
Fairmont. Jay wanted to make it easier for him to get to me.

It took me a while to get my makeup exactly how Arianna showed me to do it and get the blond

wig on perfectly. My makeup was supposed to be heavy to hopefully not reveal what I look like, but
after Arianna did a trial run yesterday we decided against that plan. No housekeeper would go to
work with that amount of makeup on, considering how hard they work and most likely sweat. Instead,
she showed me how to do cat eyes and put on fake lashes. Under my left eye on the start of the
cheekbone I applied a beauty mark. On my lips I'm wearing a pink gloss to give me “dick sucking
lips”(her words, not mine).

I turn to the side of the full length mirror, inspecting the housekeeping uniform Jay retrieved for

me. It's a basic gray dress that goes an inch past my knees, has a white collar and trim around the
shoulder length sleeves, and a white apron that ties around my middle. I've paired it with white Keds
that they all seem to wear. Arianna was disappointed that there was no way to make the uniform sexy.
She told me to smile in that way that I do and they won't even notice. The only problem with that is
I'm not sure what she means.

The plan for today is I will have to actually clean parts of the suite. Luckily (depending on how

you want to look at it) they clean the bedrooms first, starting with the smallest. Jax keeps his laptop in
the second bedroom that he turns into his private office and it's the first place I will start.
Housekeeping closes the bedroom doors when they clean each bedroom if the residents are inside as
to not disturb them, so I should be able to go on his computer unnoticed. I only have to spend time
vacuuming. This brought Jay some relief. He's been a mess all morning trying to think of ways to
convince me not to do this, but it's either I do it now or we wait to find someone Jay can trust. I want
this over with. The sooner this shit gets done, the sooner Jay can take care of Lazra and we can begin
figuring out a life together.

From what I was informed yesterday, Jaxon Henley is the owner of Henley Bar and Grill. His

restaurants are in every major city in the U.S., and are in the works to branch into other countries. I
have been to his restaurant many times; it's one of my family's favorite places to eat.

Arianna has been seeing him for a little over three years. When he travels on business – which is

quite frequently because he is always scouting out new locations or checking in on the ones he has –
he usually flies her out to be with him. They always get separate suites in the same hotel because Jax
prefers his privacy. When they are together he lavishes her with clothes, jewelry, expensive dinners,
and anything else she wants. To me she sounds like a high-class hooker, but I didn't tell her that. She
really seems to care for him, and from what I gather they have a kinship with one another. He knows
about what she does and it doesn't bother him. I found that strange, because I would have a hard time
trusting a con-artist if I had his amount of wealth.

At one point yesterday I stopped being jealous of Arianna. Partly because she stopped making

advances on Jay, and partly because the more I talked with her the more I liked her. She lives a
fascinating life and I look forward to hearing more about it. I've found a new friend in her and we

both want to stay in contact. Jay doesn't like that because of how protective he is over me, but I don't
care. I trust she'd never let anyone know I was connected to him. She seems thrilled to finally have a
girlfriend to talk to, which makes me a little sad for her. Her life sounds almost as lonely as Jay's
was.

I double check that my gun is in the holster on my thigh. I pat the front pocket of the dress to feel

the USB and look to the ceiling, praying I can pull this off.

I exit the bathroom and Jay stops his pacing to scan the length of me.
“I don't like this,” he states gruffly, as though this is the first conversation we've had on the topic.

It's obviously not. It's about the trillionth (slight exaggeration, but it feels close to the truth).

I come forward and rest my palms on his chest, trying to look as confident as I can, “I've got this.

I don't want this to end badly either. I promise to get out if anything feels funny.”

Jay wrap his hands around my wrists and plants his forehead to mine, “I have a bad feeling.”
“No, baby, you don't. You just don't want me doing this and you're turning your stomach over

about it.” I back away and head for the door, “I'll be back before you know it.” I'm proud of how
much confidence I'm able to muster. Inside, I'm a nervous wreck and have no clue how I'm not
sweating out of my pores. I open the door, ready to go get that file. Scared shitless, but ready.

“Lily,” Jay calls out, sounding tortured.
I turn to him.
“I love you.”
Every part of me melts into his words. His brows are knitted together, trying to hold in a

meltdown. I've never seen him look vulnerable before. I hurry over to him and wrap my arms around
his neck. He instantly breathes me in.

“I love you, too,” I reassure him.
He nods into my hair and I can feel his heart beating abnormally in his chest. This is really

messing with his head. Maybe I shouldn't be doing this.

“I agree,” Jay responds to the words I accidentally spoke aloud.
“You're really freaked out, aren't you?”
“You think?” He bites out sarcastically into my hair.
I tighten my hold around his neck, “You want to wait any longer than we have to to be together?”
“No,” he answers with irritation.
“Let me do this.” I drop to the ground, give him a swift peck on the lips, and hurry out before he

can stop me or I lose my confidence and let fear take over.

I head to the elevator, and as the doors start to close I see Jay standing at the opening of our

room, watching me with arms crossed over his chest, lips drawn straight, brows pulled together. I
give him a reassuring smile and watch him scrub his face with both hands while it closes.

Please let me pull this off.

Chapter 35

9:06am

I knock once on the door to Jax's suite, hard and sure.
“Housekeeping!” I holler, thankful my voice didn't quiver. I'm not able to stop my shaky hands as

I slide the keycard through, my heart at a fluttering pace. The green light appears and I slowly open
the door. I'm almost as freaked out as when those men attacked me.

I take a moment to pray to every God I’ve ever heard of that this works. I use my butt to keep the

door open and I take the handle of the housekeeping cart I had gotten down in the cleaning quarters
before coming here.

That was interesting in itself, as there was another housekeeper refilling her cart, staring me

down before she asked if I was new. I of course told her yes and that it wasn't my normal shift, in
which she asked why I wasn't at the morning meeting. I played it off like I was running late that day
and I had already gotten chewed out by the manager and would appreciate if she held back on any
nasty remarks. She kept her eyes glued to me as I exited the room.

I knew she was suspicious, but all I had to do was get in the room and get out. The real

housekeeper for this suite starts between nine thirty and ten, giving me plenty of time to pull it off. Jay
wanted more, but we couldn't have me start too early and risk raising suspicions.

The door opens the rest of the way, and I fall backwards into the arms of a man who's almost the

same size as Jay.

“Thanks,” I giggle nervously and straighten up.
He examines me from top to bottom, “You're not the usual.”
I shrug, “Martha's kid is sick. I'm all that was available to come in.” I decided to sound

somewhat ditsy and take a guess that he wouldn't remember or even know the usual housekeeper's
name. I smack the gum I had put in hoping it would give me something to concentrate on when I got
nervous. “Wow, you're a big fella.”

He holds the door open for me and I start wheeling my cart the rest of the way in.
“Sure am darlin', in every place that counts.”
I almost stupidly roll my eyes. Instead I bite my lip and let my eyes fall to his lower half for a

long second before looking back up.

“I bet,” I respond under my breath, making sure it's loud enough for him to hear.
He winks at me and in return I give him a flirtatious smile.
I'm about to tell him that I'll leave him be and go get started when the sound of heels and the

smell of fresh rain enters.

Arianna stops a few feet from us, “Before you start can you please make sure you have lots of

extra conditioner? Mr. Henley requests it.”

My eyeballs almost pop out at her. That was supposed to be the excuse I give to leave the suite.

What the hell is she doing? The pit of my stomach has a sinking feeling.

Arianna quickly widens her eyes before making them appear casual.
She wiggles her fingers to the door, “Carry on, he wants to take his shower soon.”
I don't budge and she does the weird eye thing again, this time slightly raising her brows and

giving a nudge of her head.

It finally sinks in. She's warning me to get out.
Shit, now I'm just as scared as when those men attacked me.
“Will do,” I happily chirp. My hands are starting to shake and I grip the cart handle even harder,

completely white knuckling it. I start to walk through the still open door, but the guard stops the cart
and closes the door. His focus is on a figure appearing behind Arianna. Arianna's body stiffens as the
figure gets closer.

It's a petite blond, a few inches taller than me. She appears to be in her late-forties, maybe older.

Her hair is shoulder length, thick, and teased to be more voluminous. She has thick bangs that cover
her forehead and get longer on the temple, coming in a little past the brow. She is dressed exactly
how Will always preferred me: kitten heels, tight pencil skirt, feminine figure-showing blouse. She
looks like a sophisticated upper-class lady, not a single wrinkle or hair strand out of place.

Her eyes twinkle in an eerie way as she scans me and it makes my skin crawl. “Hello, Miss

Evans,” the woman says in a strong southern accent as she approaches me. “It's so lovely to finally
meet you in person.” She gestures behind her, “Please, won't you join us for some refreshments?”

I dart my eyes to Arianna, who looks a little pale and her eyes are trying to conceal how

frightened she is.

Okay, time to freak out.
I nervously lick my lips, at a loss for what to say.
The woman places a palm and perfectly groomed fingers to her chest. She lets out a whimsical

laugh that reminds me of afternoon tea parties. “How terribly rude of me,” she extends her hand and
gives me a flashy smile, “I'm Eliza Raine.”

I hesitantly shake her hand. She squeezes it to the point of painful, digging her nails into me,

almost taking skin with it before letting go. She steps aside and gestures once again to the main room.

The back of a long blue couch is the first thing I see. Then the four plush chairs on each side that

face the other. The chairs and couch all form a circle around a coffee table in the middle. Against the
back wall is a fireplace between two large windows. On one of the chairs closest to the fireplace is a
man reading the newspaper. The room is surrounded by seven other men, all standing, hands in front,
eyes on me, making the spacious room cramped and in need of more oxygen.

“After you, Miss Evans,” she sweetly instructs me.
The guard behind me gives me a shove to move forward. The woman is close on my heels and

she whispers down my back, prickling my spine, “You might know me better as Lazra.”

Oh fuckidy hell this is so not good.
“Someone search her, remove any weapons,” she icily informs the room.
The guard who let me in pats me down and removes my gun from it's holster, as well as my wig.
“Sit,” she clips, pointing to the middle cushion of the couch.
I do without hesitation. Two hugely built men join me on each side.
Lazra takes an armchair next to the man, her back facing the fireplace, crossing her ankles.
“Arianna, please sit,” Lazra warmly invites her, motioning to an empty chair. She also doesn't

hesitate and sits on the chair between the couch and the man. She shoots me a glance and mouths, “I'm
sorry,” before giving Lazra her full attention. This almost has me crying because I can see her sorrow
and fear and know she's just as blindsided by this as I am.

The sitting man folds the paper and lifts it for someone to retrieve. He looks around the same age

as Vault but not nearly as attractive. This man's hair is a dark brown, parted sleek on the side. His
jaw bone is chiseled with a five o'clock shadow and his eyes are dark and brooding. He's dressed
casually in dark denim jeans, a gray sweater, and brown loafers.

“Don't be rude, Mister Henley, introduce yourself to our friend,” Lazra reprimands, dusting back

her bangs, revealing two scars running along her right temple and beginning of her brow. Once her
fingers leave her hair the strands fall back into place, covering them.

I see his jaw work back and forth, “Let's not play games. I've been playing long enough. Let's end

this.”

What the hell does that mean?!
I swallow hard and loud.
“Someone get the poor dear a glass of water,” Lazra gives me a sympathetic frown, “We

wouldn't want our guest to not feel at home.”

This woman has crazy eyes, no doubt about it. Her smile and voice may appear friendly and

sweet, but her eyes, they're pure fucking crazy. I thought Sharp had them, but this woman’s are far
worse.

I take another gulp, this one getting lodged in my throat. I take the glass being handed to me and

take a big mouthful, feeling it make it's way down. I take another sip and place it on the coffee table,
all of a sudden fearful that they may have just poisoned me. Why did I just drink that? Dammit.

“Let me be frank with you, dear,” Lazra starts, resting her elbows on the armrest and clasping her

hands together, narrowing in on me with her crazy eyes and a friendly smile, “Your man
underestimates me. He thinks I'm whacked and therefore too crazy to be smart or calculating, but you
see, I'm not. My plans just take longer to play out than most. I'm a very patient person. This moment,
right here, right now, is playing out exactly how I had hoped. It took a few years, but it was well
worth the wait.”

“Eliza,” Jax intervenes, “spare her the evil villain speech on how brilliant you are and get on

with it.”

“My-my, someone's testy today,” she laughs good naturedly. “Rough day losing your play toy?”
“Hardly,” he scoffs, “You know how I really prefer my women, although she was fun to play

with and made me the envy of every man when we went out.”

I notice Arianna dab the corner of her eye, trying to hide her hurt, but it's written all over her

face.

“I see your plaything doesn't enjoy being the one played,” Lazra snickers, drinking the white wine

she was handed. “Conning people is not as fun when it's the other way around, is it dear?”

“You can go fuck yourself,” Arianna sneers. “So what's the plan? Are you going to kill us?”
I hold my breath waiting for the response.
“Not unless you give me a reason to,” she dares. “For starters, I would appreciate if we could be

more respectful towards one another and refrain from any foul language.”

Arianna looks her dead on, “Fuck. You.”
The crazy flares in Lazra's eyes, “Don't make me shoot your kneecap off, dear child.” She snaps

her fingers and a guard hands her a gun that she gently places on the side table.

Great, a crazy person with a gun. That always ends well.
My phone vibrates in the pocket of my uniform. I put my hand over it, hoping to silence the

buzzing.

Lazra extends her hand out, palm up, asking for me to hand it to her, “Would that be my old friend

Mister Lincoln?”

“I think it's best if I answer it.”
She drums her nails on the side table, letting her pinky brush the metal of her gun, “Don't test me,

dear. Hand over the phone.”

I place it on her palm, starting to get overheated from the two large men I'm sandwiched between.
She answers the phone with a casual, drawn out southern drawl, “Miss Raine speakin', Miss

Evans is currently indisposed.”

Even from my spot on the couch I can hear Jay shouting; not his words, but the high volume of his

voice. My stomach starts churning and I know shit's about to go down. I should have listened to Jay's
instincts before I left.

Her crazy eyes go wild, “Why don't you come here and find out for yourself.” She hits a button

and places the phone next to her gun. “This should be fun,” she excitedly claps her hands and lets out
her eerie, whimsical laugh.

Yeah, I'm guessing it'll be a blast.
We all sit silently waiting, Lazra drinking her wine with a happy, sadistic smile on her face.
Within minutes I hear the door fly open. Guns draw up all around the room and the two men I'm

between plant theirs on me. The sound of thunder comes tromping towards us. I feel Jay's angry fury
rolling off him in waves before I see him. I lean forward to peer around the man sitting next to me. I
thought I'd seen Jay mad before, but this goes beyond that. I don't even think there is a word for what's
radiating out of him.

He stops in front of us, every gun in the room pointed at him except the two on me, but it doesn't

phase him as his eyes search the room. They land on me, scan me from top to bottom, and relief
flashes his eyes before returning to pure venom, never leaving me, “You alright?”

I nod yes.
“Hand over your gun, dear,” Lazra instructs him, like a two year old they are trying to keep from

throwing a tantrum. “Then I can inform you of what's going to happen next.”

Jay hands the gun over to one of the guards, eyes still glued to mine. The guard then checks the

rest of his body, making sure nothing else is concealed.

“Please, won't you sit?” Laz offers, pointing to the armchair next to her, inches from Jay.
Jay looks to the man sitting between Laz and I.
“Move,” he barks out in a level tone, but it's full of animosity.
“Now, Mister Lincoln, you need to play by the rules. That is not the seat I asked you to take.”
“I don't give a fuck. Your men need to back the fuck away and give her some fucking room to

breathe.”

“You don't get to make demands,” she speaks calmly, still dealing with him like he's a toddler.

“Now sit on that chair and we can calmly discuss business.”

Jay rubs the top of his head and works his jaw before settling into his seat. Eyes going back and

forth between Laz and I. He takes a moment to survey the rest of the room, and when he lands on
Arianna more fury rolls off him.

“What the fuck,” he bellows, “You in on this shit?”
Her eyes get wide, then bereaved as though he told her a loved one died, then pissed, “Wow,

really?” She folds her arms across her chest and lifts a leg over the other, “Fuck you, too.”

I need to defend her, she doesn't deserve someone else she cares about turning against her.
“Jay,” the sound of my voice has everyone’s heads snapping in my direction. “She's been used

just like us. She tried warning me to leave the minute I entered. Lets not make enemies when we need
allies.”

Jay massages the bridge of his nose and curses under his breath. He zones back in on Lazra,

“Talk.”

“You see,” Lazra begins, clasping her hands back together in her lap, “I've been wanting to get

my hands on that dagger for quite some time now. The only problem is I had no means to get it.

“How do I go about it then? I would ask myself this day in and day out. Then an idea came to me.

Get Benedict Cole pissed off enough or in need of something enough that he would hand it over. Now
the question is, how am I going to do that? I insured myself that in two ways,” she lifts two fingers,
looking overly pleased with herself. “The first, acquiring information that Mister Cole desperately
wants. The second – and the most fun I might add – was when I happened to be at the same fundraiser
as he and his wife. I was leaving the bathroom when I spotted Kolme Dragoni headed my way. He
appeared ready to strike, and as luck would have it, Mister Cole's wife was ready to leave the
bathroom as well. I pushed her in front of me and retreated back inside,” she pauses to take a sip of
wine, enjoying everyone's undivided attention. “My hope in doing this was to insure Mister Cole's
hatred for Mister Dragoni ran deep, and he would be more than willing to hand over the dagger first
taken inside the impenetrable walls of Cole Private Bank and Trust by his father.

“I obviously succeeded in both attempts, acquiring the information he wants as well as ensuring

his hatred for Mister Dragoni. Next was finding a person he would intrust the dagger to. Well that
was a no-brainer; the only man with three marks and a greed for revenge so strong it consumed him. I
knew Mister Cole would ask for something in return, and I hoped it would be the file I had so
carefully found. And what would you know,” she laughs in her whimsical, gleeful laugh, her crazy
eyes twitching, “it delightfully was. Now, I couldn't have it be easy to acquire or connected to me. I
needed this to appear genuine. It all played out exactly as I had hoped. One of my favorite clients
easily hooked the gold-digging princess into his life, as I informed him to do, knowing that you would
be delighted and figure it good fortune you had an “in”. But now, how do I get you to request the
dagger from Mister Cole for me? That is what has taken my plan the longest to play out. I needed an
incentive, a reason. You, unfortunately Mister Lincoln, have never been one for money, luxuries, or
anything else most people require. I waited, knowing one day the tides would change, and as luck
would have it, the beautiful Miss Evans entered your life. Ahh, finally,” she sighs, getting starry eyed,
“I found a way to get your attention. Isn't love wonderful?”

I hear Jay growl, but I can't take my eyes off of Lazra, sucking in every word she's speaking, “I

sent two idiots your way, knowing you would easily dispose of them, and I hadn't wanted to waste
any of my good men on you. And look, here we are, exactly as I had planned. Now, Mister Lincoln, I
would appreciate it if you would go retrieve my dagger.”

Jay sits calmly, completely unmoving, eyes locked with Lazra as minutes tick by.
He finally shifts in his seat and swipes his head, “Why do you want this dagger, knowing who it

belongs to and what will happen if you get your hands on it?” I detect nothing in his voice. It's calm
and level and very un-Jay like.

Her crazy eyes start twitching again, “That dagger is mine!” She shouts, slamming her hand on the

side table, making me jump. She recovers her cool, smooths out her skirt, and takes a sip of wine,
acting as though she'd never had an outburst. “You don't have any siblings, Mister Lincoln, so you
wouldn't understand, but sometimes when a family member dies they pass down heirlooms, and
sometimes certain family members believe it belongs to them, that they are more entitled to it. That is
not always the case, as with my family. The dagger is mine and I want it back.” She says the last
sentence slow and clear, her eyes twitching as well as her hands.

She seems to be off her rocker. I'm wondering how mental and off her hinges she really is, and

how much trouble Jay and I are in. I start nervously chewing my lip, having a very bad feeling about
where her rant is going.

“Oh, fuck,” Jay mumbles under his breath, eyes frantically moving back and forth, lost in his

mind, pulling thoughts together. “How did I not see that?” He asks softly to no one, appearing to
finally put all the pieces together.

Lazra lets out a chilling cackle, “Because I did not want you or anyone to know.”
He scrutinizes her, “But you've tried killing him too?”
“He may be my brother, but that doesn't mean I like him.”
Holy shit.
“My father, like my brother, was not right in the head. My father took his insanity out on his

family. My brother got his punishments in the torture room – or what some houses refer to as the
basement – like our father's father had done to him. Mine were in the bedroom. Our mother would get
both, but never as bad as we did. He needed her fully functional so his meals would be on time and
the house sparkling clean.

“One day, my brother was in the torture room recovering from a heavy whipping with a cat o'

nine tail, when he snapped. He got our father's dagger – it had been passed down from generation to
generation to keep their sons in place – from its lockbox. He came to the dining room where we were
enjoying dinner and attacked our father. Slit his throat. But you see, it wasn't enough. My brother has
always had a weird tick when it comes to the number three. He only has three meals a day, three
things on the plate with each meal, will only sleep for three hours a night, and so on. So after he
sliced our father's throat it wasn't enough. He turned on our mother. He still had an itch and he started
shaking, repeating that he needed more.

“I sat at the table trembling, watching the blood gush out of my parent's throats. He kept repeating

that he needed more, and who happened to be next to our parents at the time? My beautiful two year
old son. He was a gift to me from our father, promising that he would one day pass the family dagger
down to him. My brother slit his throat too. Then you could see and feel the peace wash over my
brother. His shoulders rolled back and his eyes glowed in a way I had never seen. Mother I didn't
care about – she took father away from me some nights, but I loved our father. He was good to me.
Seeing my son dead sent me over the edge. I loved my son.

“I came after my brother with a vengeance, taking my fork from the table and stabbing his eye.

My brother was quick and he got me in a head lock. He started in on my throat,” she tilts her neck to
display a small scar on the side of her right ear that goes along her throat for almost an inch. “He
couldn't do it. He already had three. Four would offset him, cause him unease. I looked at him and
told him to do it, to put me out of my misery, and if he didn't I’d kill him. The idea excited him. He
liked the idea of pain, of me trying to kill him. I felt him get hard against my leg at the idea. That's
when he marked me along my temple. Told me he'd give me two more chances at trying to kill him,
and then he'd finish me.

“That was the only night he ever used the dagger to kill, inventing the claw in it's place, needing

the feel of three slashes across their flesh. He should have left me with the dagger. Daddy promised it
to me for delivering him a son that he said would replace the worthless garbage my mother gave him.

“Over the years, my brother found there were many people who'd pay him ungodly amounts of

money to do something he craved – killing. He could be rich doing what he loved.

“I also followed down a dark path. I met a man, a very evil, wicked man, that enslaved me and

did unspeakable,” she gives a slight shiver of delight, her lips slightly turning up, “but simply
splendid things to me. Things that would break others, but fueled me. He gave it to me just as hard and
rough as our father did, and I loved every moment of it.

“I was young and in love with a man just as twisted as our father. Until someone ordered a hit on

him. But my Master was not a man people messed with. Oh no, nobody touched him. Nobody but my

dear brother. Again I had to watch him kill a man I loved. I attacked him once more, but I was weak
recovering from a heavy beating and being tried out by some of his visitors. I barely got my blade
sunk into the side of him. I did get a good twist in, earning a delighted sneer from my brother, who
never expressed pain no matter how bad the torture. He gave me my second mark. That was the end of
my slavery days, it hurt too much to see another Master I was devoted to die. That's when I opened
my brothels and clubs, to cover up being able to offer others the kind of exquisite torture I myself
desire. I have a very elite clientèle for my hidden rooms. Sadly, our tastes are not ones most can
stomach. Mister Henley here is one of my favorite clients. The pain he can inflict on my girls is
beautiful to watch. I've even had the delight of watching him with a few of my boys.”

She cackles, “Silly me, I'm getting off track.” She takes a sip of wine, crosses a leg over the

other, and sits back into her chair. “You see, killing is too easy for my brother. He loves when
someone goes after him, especially if pain is involved. I had the luxury of hearing him rave about the
fight you two shared at the ocean and the beating he took from you on your third attempt. He said both
times he was close to death, the closest since our father. He loves the pain almost as much as he loves
to give it. You, dear child, are an obsession to him. He knows you have your final mark. He's ready
for you to find him, and he's ready to make you suffer.”

An involuntary whimper escapes from her last remark. I'm a wreck with anxiety from hearing her

horrible story and tears burn the backs of my eyes. What a horrible, messed up person she is. How
can the suffering of her and her brother as children go unnoticed? How does this kind of thing happen?
It's not right. I can't believe I want to cry in pain for this clearly insane woman, and her brother who is
looking forward to torturing the man I love. It's all so twisted and sick.

Jay leans forward, putting elbow to knees, head in hands, “He knows I'm getting it, doesn't he?”

He sounds lost and defeated.

“Of course, dear boy. I've decided this hatred for my brother has gone on long enough. You are

my parting gift. I'm handing you over to him.”

Jay and I jerk upright in panic.
She gives her whimsical laugh, “Not to worry, dear. He'll come to you. Where would the fun be

for him if I served you on a silver platter? No, I'm giving you plenty of time to plan out your attack.
Be sure to make it a good one for my dear brother, he's lived a rough life and he deserves his fun.”

Never mind, I take back any remorse I felt for her. Call it temporary insanity.
“When,” Jay croaks out, then clears his throat, obviously unsettled by this recent turn of events,

“When did you inform him I took his dagger?”

“My dagger, dear, and don't you worry, you have plenty of time. I got the word out the minute I

heard you entered Mister Cole's House. Who knows when word will reach him or how long he'll take
to come to you. My brother works on his own time. It could be weeks, months,” she lets out a happy,
creepy laugh, “who knows? The suspense is all part of the fun.”

God, this woman is deranged.
“Who else has Lily's file?”
“Only me, dear. I couldn't have anyone else seek you out. As you know, I've had plans for you. I

can't let others spoil it all.”

“Give me that file now or I'll kill myself and ruin your plans.”
Both Laz and I gasp. Jay remains calm and unwavering, as though he is negotiating a car sale and

not his own death.

“You wouldn't.”
“Yeah, bitch, I would.”

She snaps her fingers and a guard steps forward, placing a USB in her hand. She lifts it between

two fingers, “It's all yours.”

Jay stands to retrieve it, “What about Vault's file? I can't go there without it.”
“It's on here too.”
“Anyone else have this information or has seen it outside of those in this room?”
“No, nobody else. Quake had my only other copy, which you've already had your hands on.”
Jay removes it from her fingers, guns following his every move, “I guess I'll go get your dagger.”
“Wait,” she stops him as he turns to leave. “Two of my guards will go with you. If you dare try to

take them out or let anyone know what is going on, I will kill her and it won't be pretty.”

He whips around, and with lightning speed has his hand tightening around her throat. Her men are

just as fast, circling around them, all guns pointed at his skull.

“Lay one fucking hand on her, Lazra,” Jay spits out and you can almost see the red flames

sparking off him, “I will gut you. Got it?”

She licks her lips, not in fear, but with desire and lust.
Deranged lunatic.
“Promises, promises,” she manages to get out, raspy from his firm choke hold.
He backs off, “Not a single fucking finger, you got that crazy bitch?”
She waves her hand, indifferent. “Fine,” she sighs as if he ruins all her fun.
Jay approaches me and holds out his hand, “She's walking me to the door.”
They don't stop him and he has to take my hand to guide me up to him. He wraps his arm around

my shoulder as he takes us to the door, him supporting all my weight as my legs have forgotten how to
function. We reach the door, and he scoops me up by the waist and buries his face in my hair.

“I'm so fucking sorry I brought you into this mess,” he mutters into my ear. I hold onto him tightly,

my face in his neck, inhaling deeply, hoping his scent will calm even a fraction of me. “Hang tight. I'll
get you out of this. Remember your promise: any order I give, no hesitation.”

I nod into his neck and I'm thankful he doesn't make me say it out loud. Words are impossible

right now; I'm too overwhelmed.

“I love you, baby.”
I nod again.
He kisses my lips softly before gently placing me to the ground.
Jay opens the door and faces Lazra, his expression strangely placid, “Not a fucking finger.”
The door slams shut. I stare at it, mind numb, completely shutting out emotion because if I could

feel right now, I'd have a breakdown.

“Come, dear,” Lazra rings out behind me as though I'm here for a long overdue visit. “Sit. Enjoy

a refreshment with me and we can share juicy gossip.”

I can't believe I let Jay walk out the door without telling him I love him too.
What if I never get the chance again?
No, I can't think like that. He has to come back with the dagger. He would never leave me here,

not with someone like her.

A guard takes my arm and drags my immobile feet to the couch, where he plops me down.
I vacantly stare at the coffee table.
“Can I sit with her?” Arianna asks.
I don't hear a response, but she must have agreed because I feel the warmth of Arianna's arms

around my upper body.

“It'll be okay. Jay's incredibly smart. I'm sure he already has a plan,” she whispers in my ear.

I wish I could nod in understanding, but all my brain can think about is that The Marker believes

Jay has the dagger and he's coming for him. If he's anything like his sister, and it sounds like he is but
enjoys giving pain more than receiving, well...yeah. Fuck.

I'm terrified. I start to tremble and Arianna rubs her hands along my arms.
“You going to be okay?” She soothingly asks. “You look like you've checked out.”
That's because I have, but of course my mouth can't move to tell her that.
“I think I'm done with this life,” she keeps on talking, I think to distract the both of us. “I have

enough money saved that I'm going to find a remote island, buy a hut, and lay on the sand every day
without a care in the world...”

Mmm, that sounds nice. I want to do that too.
“The house will have big long windows all throughout, so no matter where I am I can see the

ocean. I'll drink pina-coladas and eat cupcakes all day, not caring if I get fat...”

Mmm, that sounds nice too.
We relax back into the couch as she continues to tell me all about her dream island and the life

she'll lead there.

Chapter 36

10:46am

Jay's only been gone for thirty minutes but it feels like a lifetime. Arianna stopped her story ten

minutes ago and I can feel her tension and worry. We are both slouched deep into the couch, holding
hands, hers giving mine a squeeze every now and then.

I need to put my trust and faith in Jay that this will all work out. I know he won't let anything bad

happen to me, but I'm more worried (a lot more worried) about him than myself.

I'm also devastated. I was growing excited at the prospect of starting a life with him and seeing

where it takes us. I was relieved to know that he was giving up his revenge and he loves me enough to
do it. We were so close to finding happiness together, only to have this deranged psychopath who's
casually sipping wine and doing a Sudoku puzzle next to me like it's a lazy Sunday afternoon interfere.

I hate her.
I hate her with every fiber of my being.
Jay was ready to give up his revenge and focus on learning to be happy and have a life of his

own. She's taking that from him. She's taking that from us. When I thought I felt hate for Arianna I was
wrong. That was merely jealousy. This, what I feel right now for Lazra (the crazy bitch) is hatred.
Pure, venomous, loathing hatred.

I hear the keycard and door turning open. I sit up straight and hold my breath.
All the air in my lungs comes out in one long whoosh as Jay walks through the door. I try reading

his face but it's expressionless, which is better than fear or worry.

I notice him peek my way to reassure himself I'm unharmed. I do the exact same thing. The day's

not over, but I feel better knowing he's here and he's safe – for the time being.

“Do you have it?” Lazra asks, looking like a witch standing over her brewing potion, rubbing her

hands together with greed, the tip of her tongue poking out the side of her mouth. Her crazy eyelids are
twitching and her eyeballs are wiggling all over the place.

One of the guards who accompanied Jay reaches inside a pocket and pulls it out. Lazra leaps to

her feet, flying over to snatch it.

She walks back to her seat, staring down at the dagger laying flat on both her palms. From what

little I can see, it has a tarnished gold handle with symbols etched on top.

That's what she's ruining Jay's life for? I had visions of at least gems, rubies, anything that

showed it was worth something.

“Lily, come on, let's go,” Jay commands.
Really, that's it?
I stand and reach my hand out to help Arianna up.
“She stays here,” Lazra informs us, “I'll let Mister Henley decide what to do with her.”
Arianna's frightened features blanch.
“Lily, come on,” Jay orders, not even trying to persuade Lazra to let Arianna come with us.
“Not without Arianna,” I proclaim, refusing to leave her here. I grab her hand and squeeze.
“Lily,” he warns.
“No.”
“This isn't up for negotiations. Remember your promise?”

Seriously!? I didn't know that promise included leaving behind a good person in the hands of a

psychopath!

“Baby, she's not our concern. Let's go,” he steps forward and tightly seizes my arm, dragging me

behind him.

I look back over my shoulder to see tears brimming Arianna's lids. I don't blame her. This is

seriously fucked up and all kinds of wrong.

Two guards follow us out, and once we reach the short hallway to the elevator I yank my arm

free.

Jay's steel form towers over me, but his intimidation technique doesn't work on me anymore.
“You're not going back for her.”
“I know, but at the moment you're not on my favorite persons list. In fact, I want to be as far away

from you as I can get.” A tear falls down and I wipe it away, “How could you?”

“You need to calm down and trust me,” Jay sneers, getting just as ticked as I am. “For once, just

fucking trust me.”

Jay pushes the elevator door button and securely fastens me to his side, despite my struggle. Jay

leans down to put his mouth to my ear, “No hesitations, and fucking trust me.”

The doors ping open and I find myself being shoved inside by Jay and two men pulling me

forward and behind their backs. Men start stepping out of the elevator, and with silenced guns shoot
Lazra's two guards in the head, dropping them to the ground.

I peek through the tiny gap between the two men who are guarding me. Six other men are in the

hallway with Jay, handing him weapons. I immediately recognize them as Vault's guards.

“Get her the fuck out of here,” Jay whisper-shouts to no one as he checks his gun for ammo.
The doors begin to close and I try pawing my way between the two guards, but they push me

back.

“What's going on?” I plea.
No answer.
I frustratingly bang the wall behind me with my foot. We reach the lobby floor and the two men

escort me out. I'm chewing on my bottom lip, cutting it to shreds, internally freaking out about not
knowing what's going on.

Jay was never going to leave Arianna behind. I should have known he wasn't that cruel. What a

shitty assumption to make. I feel like a class-A jerk. I do need to trust him more.

I don't realize we've reached the outside until a chauffeur is holding open the door to a black

Escalade and the guards usher me inside. One gestures for me to scoot over so he can join me and the
other sits up front with the driver. Looking out the open door, I see five men in identical suits and
earpieces head into the hotel. The door closes and I immediately try to open mine with no luck.

“You're not going anywhere.”
I screech at the sound of Vault's voice. Directly across from me, close enough I could kick him,

but not close enough that we're touching, he's calmly drinking his amber liquor.

“What the hell is going on?” Any minute now I'm going to explode with frustration if I don't get

some answers.

The SUV merges into the city traffic and I glance out the window, watching The Fairmont and Jay

fade away.

“I can't leave him there!”
“Lily, relax,” He motions for the guard to switch sides with him and places a warm hand over

mine, rubbing it with his thumb. “Jay can handle this. He'll be fine.”

I turn my tear streaked face to him. “Please tell me what's going on,” I sound hoarse from the

lump taking over my entire throat and chest. “Please,” I unabashedly implore.

“Sweetheart, it's okay,” he lovingly wipes my tears and strokes my cheeks, his piercing blue eyes

sincere and compassionate. “He wouldn't go in there if he thought he couldn't make it out. Lazra's time
is up.”

I wipe my snotty nose with the back of my hand and he whips a kerchief out of his suit pocket for

me.

“He called me the minute you left him, telling me he had a bad feeling, and his old man always

taught him to trust his gut. I know the Lincolns. Never met one who isn't spot on with their instincts.
Should have listened to him,” now his eyes have turned apologetic and remorseful. “He informed me
he was getting you and he's backing out of the deal no matter the consequences. Like the ass that I am,
I refused to let that happen. The file is very important to me.”

A “why” pops out before I can stop it, knowing that what's on it is none of my business.
“That, sweetheart, is an entirely different story.”
I'm fine with that answer, since I want to know what Jay has planned. I could give a flying fuck

about a damn file right now.

“I blackmailed him with threats I won't repeat to you, but know it was a dick move on my part.

He had no choice but to hang up with me and let it play out. Never heard a man on the phone so
desperate,” he cringes from the memory and I can tell he truly wishes he had listened. “Not long after,
he called back and told me Lazra had you and I owed him my men. I called in my head of security to
round up his boys and anyone else he could trust to help out. When Jay arrived, he called me a few
choice words before purposely hitting me in the head with the USB.”

A small, silent giggle bunches up my shoulders. Jay can be such a child sometimes.
Vault keeps talking, not noticing my amusement, “I had the dagger ready and handed it over. I

have never seen Jay that angry, and I've seen him at his worst. You could feel it, smell it, even taste
it.”

I'm glad to know I'm not the only one aware of how he can change the atmosphere with his mood.
“Shortly after he left, my men and I came to the hotel. I paid off the hotel manager with more

money than he'll make in a lifetime to leave us be and ignore any noises from Jaxon Henley's suite. I
informed him I'd pay for any damages done, as long as he doesn't report us, as well as an extra bonus
for him. Then I called my buddy at the police station to ignore any calls regarding The Fairmont. My
men waited in the elevator the manager sectioned off so no one would use it, and well, you know the
rest.”

“What if he doesn't make it out?”
“He will,” he assures me, not a tinge of doubt in his voice or demeanor. “I doubt her men are

better trained than mine or Jay.”

“Arianna's in there too.”
His face pales a touch, “Yeah?”
I nod.
He pats my leg, “She'll be fine too. She's a tough cookie.”
“Sir,” the driver cuts in, “we're being followed.”
“How long?”
“The minute we left. Wasn't positive at first so I made some extra turns, but it's affirmative.”
“What's the plan of action?”
“I'm heading to the usual exchange location. We can take care of whoever it is from there.”

“Good.”
I begin chewing on my lip again. My legs start jiggling from nervousness and unease floods my

nervous system.

“Lazra told The Marker you gave Jay the dagger,” I confide, fearful it's him who's following us.
Vault places a hand on my thigh telling it to stop bouncing, “When?”
“Yesterday when we entered your bank.”
The tension I didn't know he was carrying releases and his shoulders loosen back, “That won't be

him. He never works that fast. He has to calculate and go over every scenario before he enters any
situation. He'll need more than a day. Plus, he'll want to kill Jay and I. He'll need us together to keep
to his “three in three minutes of each other” shit he does.”

“Jay told me nobody's stupid enough to try and kill you.”
“Dragoni's different. He'd enjoy having a whole variety of people from all crosses of life coming

after him,” he pauses to smirk and drink from his glass, “I'm surprised he hasn't killed me for the fun
of it just to see what happens.” He seems entertained by the idea. What the hell is wrong with these
people? They're all nuts, every single one of them. Jay included.

I try my best to ignore his intrigue over the idea of being murdered, “Won't your other clients be

mad you gave away a possession?”

“They will understand when they hear who's possession it is.”
Our conversation comes to a halt when the Escalade turns into a parking garage in a ghetto part of

the city. At least I assume it's a shady part because of how rundown the buildings and garage look,
and the overabundance of graffiti.

“Gun,” I give Vault a come-hither movement with my hand, “give me one.”
Vault chuckles, “Sorry, not going to happen.”
“Now!” I shout, “I'm not dicking around. I swear to God I know how to use one and I'd feel a

helluva lot safer with one in my hand.

He eyes me, speculating if it's smart or not.
I give him my best “don't mess with me” glare.
He motions for the guard to hand me one, “Jay's going to kill me.”
“Trust me,” I share with certainty, “he won't.” I inspect the Beretta M9 I'm given, “Nice pistol.

I've been wanting to get my hands on an M9 for a long time. Mind if I keep this?” I figure he can get
more, and this might be my only shot (pun intended) at acquiring one. “Don't worry, I'll pay you,” I
quickly add, not wanting him to think I expect it for free.

Vault laughs like he finally understands the joke, but stops when he realizes I'm serious. His

features scrunch up like I'm the most bizarre creature he's ever come across and he's not sure how to
handle me, “Consider it yours in exchange for your forgiveness that I made Jay send you in for my
file.”

I do a little happy dance in my seat, “Sweet! Thanks!” The guys at the shooting range are going to

shit themselves when they see this, but first I have to make it out alive. No biggie. I'm only about to
fill a crater with the sweat from my armpits and vomit up my bagel from this morning.

We park in the back on the third level. There are only two other cars and they are parked closer

to the front.

My hands begin to shake.
Yup, I've totally got this under control.
I wonder how good my aim is when I’m this fucking nervous. Shooting has always been for fun, a

way to relax and let out stress. Also, it was always a fake target at a shooting range or in a video

game, no real threat involved.

I might completely suck.
A dribble of sweat runs down my back.
The guard has Vault and I move to the seats across from us. Vault lets me know his vehicle is

bulletproof and we should be fine as long as we stay inside. I know he informed me of this expecting
it would bring me comfort.

It doesn't.
The fact that he even has to have a bulletproof car makes this situation worse. Somehow, I have

found myself in a world where guns pointing at you and firing is expected and not something to be
feared.

This is Jay's normal. My normal and his normal are in completely different realms. Is it possible

for them to merge? Or will we forever be trying to force our two worlds to coexist?

I'm relieved when I don't have time to dwell over this new revelation. I become to absorbed in

what's happening.

The driver stays behind the wheel. Vault's two guards get out, guns aimed as they head towards

the front of the garage where we entered, waiting for the other car to join us.

I keep my gun aimed between the two doors, ready to shoot anyone who opens it.
Vault gently places a hand on my arms and lowers them. “Chill,” he snickers.
“How are you so calm?”
“I'm not. I've taught myself how to always remain level, no matter the situation.”
A black sedan with tinted windows rounds the corner and I suck in my breath. I hear Vault getting

his gun ready and he aims it between the two doors.

I raise a brow at him.
“What?” He shrugs. “It's a good idea.”
A smug grin creeps up the left side of my cheek, “I get my side, you get yours.”
He aims for his, I aim for mine.
“Jay loves you,” Vault tells me as we watch the car come to a stop in front of Vault's armed

guards. From here I can hear them demanding the driver to get out or be shot.

“Are you telling me this 'cause you think we're going to die?” I half shriek, half yelp.
He has the nerve to chuckle, “We're not going to die.”
Why is no one getting out of that car?
“His dad's done some shit for me I'll never forget. He would be glad his son has you. Jay's not

meant for this life. His dad knew it.”

Tears prick my eyes.
Perfect. You're going to cry right now? Pull your shit together, this is not the time to get

emotional.

“Think he'd be happy living a normal life?”
“Is anybody happy living a normal life?” He counter offers.
“I think some people are.”
He shrugs in an “if you say so” kind of way.
We watch our men demand once again that the driver exit his vehicle or they will shoot.
“Why isn't anybody getting out?” A funny feeling is twisting in my gut.
“Not sure.”
They inch closer and I'm not liking this one bit; something doesn't feel right, “Should they be

getting so close?”

“Lily,” he sighs out my name as though I'm a nuisance, “My men know what they're doing.”
The closer they get, the harder my heart slams into my ribs. It vibrates up my throat and through

my arms, traveling out my fingers, making my hands shake and clattering my pistol.

I try concentrating on my breathing. The closer they get to the other car the louder my breathing

becomes, reminding me of a scuba diver (or better yet, Darth Vader.)

The men are mere feet away from the sedan when a loud BOOM! Buzzes my eardrums.
The vehicle explodes into flames, taking Vault's men with it, rocking the Escalade like an

earthquake, and car alarms go off on all levels of the garage.

“We need to get the hell out of here!” Vault informs me, like the thought never fucking occurred

to me. I catch on that he wasn't talking to me as the driver revs up the engine and barrels towards the
flaming vehicle that is blocking half of our exit.

“Seat belt!” Vault yells, reaching over me to fasten mine on before securing himself.
The flames of the other vehicle pass over us as we swerve around it and for a moment I let

myself believe the worst is over.

The sound of a car screeching, rapidly approaching our level, makes me realize that Quake was

right, life's not that easy.

Another car is rounding the corner and both vehicles screech to avoid collision, but it's not fast

enough and we fishtail, sending us smashing into the oncoming car, the driver's side meeting their
front. The impact jerks us forward, making me think I just drank a Slurpee in one giant gulp and am
suffering the worst brain freeze of the century. Through the pounding in my head I'm able to force my
eyes to absorb my surroundings, and immediately notice that our driver is slumped over the wheel
and not breathing.

Shit. I unbuckle and scramble to the door.
“Lily, what are you doing?!” Vault calls out to me as I'm halfway out the door.
“It's either us or them. I for one don't want to sit here and wait for them to make the first move.

I'm guessing it's time to throw down.”

He follows me out and we squat behind the vehicle. I creep towards the hood and Vault takes the

back.

I peek around, gun ready, watching for anybody to dare exit the sedan identical to the previous

one.

I'm getting used to the adrenaline pumping in every crevice of my body. I welcome the feeling

and focus on it, letting it help me zone in and gain clarity. I no longer hear my pounding heart or heavy
breathing. Everything fades around me and all I can see is the car, my mind and eyes knowing their
target.

Four men get out, their machine guns all aimed at our SUV.
No time to think, just aim, shoot, and kill.
My first bullet leaves the barrel of my pistol, landing between the eyes of the driver. They start

firing at the car and I duck back, but not before hitting the man behind the driver in the head, taking
him out.

Two more to go.
I can do this.
I focus on listening to the sound of their firearms, knowing I have barely a nanosecond to react

when they change mags. The very second I know it's time, I brave it, knowing it's us or them. There is
no other way out of this.

With speed and clarity, I round the hood of the car and aim for the two remaining men. I wonder

if this is how they got the idea for The Matrix as movement slows down, and I can clearly see my
bullet travel towards my first target as I observe the second man turning towards me, knowing if I
don't get him down soon I'll have a bullet impaling me. As quickly as I shot the first I fire at the
second, watching my bullet slice through the air as shots come at me. I whip around to the safety of
the Escalade. I feel the vibrations of their bullets hit the exterior of my ride, followed by dead
silence.

“Lily, get in the car!” Someone shouts and everything snaps into view.
Vault is throwing open the passenger door and shoving the driver between the two front seats,

before getting into the driver's seat. He has to kick the driver's legs out of the way to give himself
enough space to work the gas and brake. I jump in as he tries to maneuver between the sedan and
cement wall of the garage. I'm getting thrown around in my seat while I clumsily snap in my seatbelt. I
cringe and feel sickened when I'm bumped up and down from driving over the dead bodies.

We make it out of the garage but I don't feel any better. I'm breathing heavier than I ever have and

my chest hurts from the pounding my heart is giving it. I try to suck in air, but my lungs won't suck it in
fast enough. Everything around me is getting blurry. I vaguely notice Vault extracting the gun from my
hand. He's talking to me but I don't register a word he's saying. I rest my hands on the dashboard and
hang my head, trying to regain my composure.

I just killed four men and had the most intense adrenaline rush of my life. My body doesn't know

how to come down. Every limb is shaking and all of a sudden I feel like I could vomit.

I do, right between my legs until I'm dry heaving, all over the floor of Vault's expensive

Escalade.

“Lily!” He cries, “Are you okay? Did you get shot?”
Oh shit. Did I?
I don't feel any pain, but I know from past experience that that doesn't mean my body's not.
“Lily, answer me!”
I hold up a finger letting him know I need a minute.
The car jolts to a stop and Vault gets out, coming around to open my side. He steps up to grab

hold of my face, forcing me to look at him but my eyes won't focus. He's talking but I don't hear it. His
hands brush along my body, looking for signs of injury.

I'm being carried in his arms, loose as a rag doll, my mind replaying everything that just

happened. The explosion that killed Vault's men, ammunition firing at me, the blood and brains
spraying out behind the men I shot.

I killed someone.
I killed four men.
Four.
Oh god.

Chapter 37

11:56am

I become aware of the gold elevators we enter and the feeling of it ascending. I keep waiting for

the tears to fall but they never do. I'm in shock. I never thought I would have death on my hands, that I
would voluntarily do it. I know I didn't have much of a choice, but that doesn't stop how nauseous it
makes me.

I'm slowly regaining my body, my senses coming back to life.
Vault carries me to his office and lays me down on one of his plush leather couches, hair being

shoved off my face.

Once again I feel hands all over my body.
“Lily, are you in pain?” Panic is evident in his tone.
I shake my head no, a single tear escaping the side of my eye.
The tear is wiped away and a thumb caresses my cheek.
“Lily, you saved my life,” Vault's awed voice tells me. “Where did you learn to shoot like that? It

was unreal.”

I don't respond, but I feel a grin twitching on my lips, pleased that finally my badass gun skills

are appreciated. The feeling evaporates when I remember that it came at the cost of four lives.

A few more tears escape, a block of ice replacing my throat and lungs.
Vault brings a straw to my lips, encouraging me to drink.
I take a sip and the cool refreshing water feels amazing traveling down my body. I begin to gulp

and suck until I hear the slurping sound of an empty glass.

I relax into the cushions, eyes growing heavy and fluttering closed.
“Jay!” I gasp, body bolting upright, remembering he was going back into a suite with that crazy

psycho lady.

“He's not back yet,” a monotone Vault reports back to me.
I frantically search his face, looking for any signs of what he's truly thinking. The crystal clear

blue eyes of Benedict Cole remind me of an old soul, one full of sorrow and heartache.

“It doesn’t mean he's not okay,” he rushes out to reassure me. “It doesn’t mean he's not okay,” he

murmurs under his breath, and I think this time it's to reassure himself.

I find comfort that I'm not in this alone, that I'm not the only one worried whether he lives or dies.
“What happened to that car?” I ask.
“A bomb. My guess is Laz sent one of her men to drive the car to take out my men, making us

easy targets for the others.”

“Why would the driver of the car sacrifice himself like that?”
“He might not have known. It's not uncommon to use a minion to drive a car where it's needed,

making them think the other car will be the one to explode when he presses the detonator.”

We keep staring into each others' eyes as we continue digesting everything that happened.
The office doors fly open and men come stumbling in.
Vault jumps to his feet and hurries to them. I sit up straighter, searching for Jay in the small

assembly in front of me, but I don't see him.

I scramble to my feet, making my way past the couch and floor rug closer to the men.

“Jay?” I ask, but there's such a commotion no one hears me. I say his name louder and no one

acknowledges I’m here as they are trying to assess their wounds. The men look a bloody mess.

More men enter, but these men are in scrubs and get to work on any injuries, evaluating who

needs more intensive care.

I cover my mouth, eyes wildly moving back and forth, taking each one in and how none of them

seem unharmed. Every one of them has taken a hit and is damaged.

None of this is good.
My breathing becomes shallow; I can't seem to remember how to breathe.
I hear them tell Vault that they were ambushed. Lazra had men hiding behind the bedroom doors.

I drop to my knees, eyes now glued to the door. I'm praying and waiting for Jay to walk through,
swiping his head, eyes intently studying me. I hold on to that image, hoping that if I picture it enough it
will happen.

“Arianna?” Vault inquires.
“Gone,” one of his men responds.
The block of ice lodged in my throat turns into a thick tree trunk, it's roots overtaking my chest,

and the branches run along my jaw, tightening it in. Tears hit the marble floor, splatter after splatter,
sounding like raindrops in a storm, but I'm sure to everyone else nothing more than a fallen leaf.

“Jay?” Vault asks next.
I'm not sure I can hear this, I'm not sure I can emotionally handle it.
“Here,” a voice I'd know anywhere speaks, coming through the doors. “Where's my girl?”
A sob escapes and my palms hit the cool marble. I didn't see him but his voice was enough to

send me over. A thumping hits the floor and I see bent knees sliding across it. Familiar arms embrace
me into the hard body of the man I love.

“Baby, are you okay?” I cling tighter with each word that leaves his mouth, breathing in as much

of him as I can. “Vault, tell me what happened.”

“We were followed. My men got bombed when they approached the other car.”
Jay tenses and his lips kiss all along the top of my head.
“She saved my life. Where did she learn to shoot like that? It was like watching a female Bruce

Willis action hero.” He sounds in awe and disbelief, thinking he must have gone insane and not
remember it accurately.

“Fuck,” Jay mutters. “Baby, talk to me. I need to hear your voice.”
I dislodge the words stuck deep inside, “I killed four men.”
“Baby,” he sighs, stroking my hair, “Four men who wouldn't have thought twice about killing

you.”

I know that, but it doesn't change the fact that I played God and took a life. I know that there was

no other choice and one day I will come to terms with that, but after all that I've been through it's too
much for me. I want to be home in my warm, cozy bed, my mom bringing me canned soup that she
somehow burned in the microwave, a brown frothy web swimming on top, my brothers poking their
heads in to make a witty remark that makes me laugh and roll my eyes, Naomi coming in and hitting
me with mounds of chocolate bars before forcing me to make room for her on the bed. We'll watch a
romantic comedy that leaves me swooning and Naomi hating every minute of it, but I know she
secretly loves it.

Jay loosens his hold on me but I'm not ready to let go. I climb up onto his bent legs to sit on his

lap.

A hiss rings in my ear.

“Baby, I'm hurt. I need to get checked out.” He tries sliding me off but he seems to be in too much

pain to manage it.

I pull away and scoot back, noticing his hand's over his left lower stomach, covered in blood.
“Omigod!” I cry, “Are you okay?!” It comes out frantic and panic-stricken, which is calmer than

how my insides feel.

Jay reaches his other hand to stroke my cheek, “Baby, it's just a bullet wound. I'll be fine.”
I throw my hands up and let them fall down and slap my thighs, “How silly of me. Why be

worried over something so mundane? Ignoring the fact that you're covered in blood!”

He chuckles and winces in pain, “It may hurt, but it's not life threatening. I'll look back on it as

proof that Lazra is six feet under ground.

My jaw hits the floor, “So when you told me that some of your scars hold good memories, this is

what you meant?

His lips jerk to form a childlike smirk, “Yeah.”
I shake my head and let out a grunt, “You need to learn what it means to have good memories.”
He tucks my hair behind my ear, his eyes softening, “I'm never going to be able to eat or smell

pumpkin without thinking of how good you taste and feel.”

My cheeks flush and he winks. Despite the circumstances, I'm turned on. Damn him and what he

does to me.

A doctor leads Jay over to lie down on a couch to take a look at his wound, which has saturated

his shirt in blood. I follow and stand on the back end of the couch, reaching a hand over to hold his. I
give it a squeeze and he pulls it up to kiss the top before resting it on his chest.

As the doctor gets to work removing the bullet, Jay has Vault recount in detail what happened.
“She actually used the words – It's time to throw down,” Vaults adds, after he finishes briefing

him.

They both laugh, Jay stopping to wince in pain, and the doctor warns him to stay still.
Jay kisses the top of my hand again, “You're so damn cute.”
I huff, “It fell out.” I glare at Vault and shake a finger at him, “Didn't I just save your ass? Show

some respect.”

Vault only chuckles before turning gravely serious, “My men told me Arianna's gone?”
Jay sucks in his breath and tightly closes his eyes as the doctor begins stitching his wound.
“Son of a bitch that hurts.” He kisses my hand, leaving his lips on it, breathing in and out until his

body relaxes back, getting used to the pain, the pain I wish I was feeling instead of him.

“She's not gone.”
Both Vault and I let out a sigh of relief.
“When your men and I entered shit got crazy, but she's smart and ducked back just like I knew she

would. She crawled toward the door and I used my body to make sure no one got past me to get to
her. Unfortunately, I didn't notice Henley leaving too. It wasn't until after shit ended that I realized he
was gone too. One of your men saw him take her with him and followed, but they hit the elevator first.
Your man made it outside with enough time to shoot Henley in the back of the head, but Arianna was
already in the car and it sped off. I have no fucking clue where they went. I have some of your men
looking into it right now.”

The doctor finishes and puts on a fresh patch of gauze.
“Will that be all, Mr. Cole?”
“Yes, thank you Doctor Kline. One of my girls up front has your cash for you.”
He tips his head in farewell and leaves.

I move around to the front of the couch to help Jay sit up. He clutches his stomach the whole time,

trying to hide how much agony it causes him. He adjusts his bottom for comfort, then pats next to him
for me to sit. I get as close as I can without being on top of him. He brings his arm over my lap and I
take his hand into mine. His head leans down to kiss the top of my hair and breathe me in.

“Lazra's gone?” Vault asks for confirmation.
“Yeah, did it myself. Two to the head, three to the chest.”
“Needed to make sure, huh?”
“Fuck yes I did. Wasn't easy either. It was like a fucking war zone in there,” his eyes turn

haunted. “She had more than double the men we did. She planned that all out better than I had thought
she was capable off.

“Any of her men left?”
“No. Your head has men in there now cleaning it all up.
Vaults nods, “Good.”
“Vault, can you give us a minute alone?”
He nods while he stands, “I have a lot to do to keep this under wraps.”
“Can you get your plane ready and my box?”
He nods again and leaves.
“Plane?” I question, not liking the expression forming on Jay's face.
“Come, sit on my lap.”
Very carefully I move to straddle him. He takes hold of my face to look me in the eye, “I have to

send you home.”

“What? Why?”
“You’re safest there. Nobody else but Vault's men know about you now, and they won't touch

you. I can't have you near me with Dragoni coming after us.”

I start to shake my head no, “I can't leave you.”
“I don't want you to go, but I can't have you anywhere near him. The idea of his eyes even looking

at you...” he trails off and I take the opportunity to peck his lips, “I also need to find Arianna. I owe
her that. I was so hell bent on making sure you got out of that hotel I convinced myself I'd be able to
keep her safe. I should have made an effort for her to leave with you. You were right, I fucked up.
Now it's my responsibility to get her back.”

“Do you think she's okay?”
“No fucking clue babe.”
“I'm scared, Jay.”
He pulls me into him and we both bury our faces in the other.
“Once you kill him you'll come back for me, right?”
Jay stiffens.
“Jay?” I plead, why won't he answer?
“Lily, you deserve better than all this.”
I vigorously shake my head no and push back on him, “No, Jay. You get that bastard and then you

come back for me. Promise me. You can't leave me again, not if you love me too. I won't ever be able
to move on with my life if I know you're somewhere out there living yours without me. Promise you'll
come back to me. When he's gone, it's over anyway, right?”

He's avoiding direct eye contact, “Yeah.”
“Then promise me.”
“I can't. I might not win.”

“Yes. You will.” Why would he even say something like that or even think it?
“I was confident the last two times and failed. I'm not confident this time, which scares the shit

out of me.”

“Those times you had nothing to lose if you failed. Now you do. Get him for us, Jay.” I stop to

throw out the big guns, hoping to seal the deal, “Make a happy life for yourself, give your parents the
only thing they want for their children: love, happiness, and contentment.”

I thought for sure that would get his attention but he's still averting his eyes from mine.
“Dammit, Jay! Look at me!” I cup his head and hold it in place, not giving him anywhere to stare

but me, “You will come back to me.”

I almost lose it when I see moisture dampening his lids.
Vault enters to tell us the plane is ready.
I help Jay to standing and we head out of the office. Vault passes something off to Jay before he

places a hand on my shoulder.

“Thank you, Lily. I'm in debt to you. You ever need anything, let me know. Nothing is too big a

request.” He pats my shoulder and brushes past me, not waiting for my response.

“Ben, wait!” I call after him before his office door fully closes.
He steps back out, puzzled, and I'm not sure if it's because I called him Ben without thinking or if

he's wondering why I stopped him.

I tell him the only big request I will ever have, not caring if it's too much to ask of a person, “I

want Jay to win.”

“Fair enough. I'll do everything in my power to see that he does.”
Okay, good. I don't doubt Vault for a second.
Jay leads me back to the elevators and we take it down to the main floor. Another Escalade is

waiting outside for us.

We remain silent for the first ten minutes during the trek to the airport. I lie my head on his

shoulder and give his hand a squeeze.

“Lily, I don't want you thinking I don't want to come back to you. I'm so fucking yours it's

ridiculous. It's just...I could have lost you today-”

I slap my hand over his mouth, “But you didn't. Do you believe in fate?” I remove my hand and

continue, not needing his answer, “Because I do. I don't think it's a coincidence that the girl you fell in
love with knows how to use a gun and can aim it. Fate's trying to give you a chance at happiness.
You're meant to kill off The Marker so he's not always a shadow lurking nearby, and then you're
meant to finally live out your life in peace.”

We go back to silence, but I can sense that he's digesting what I said.
We stop in the far back of the airport, away from the commercial planes. I step out and come

around to Jay's side to make sure he doesn't need help getting out. He makes it on his own and we face
the waiting jet. This one is twice the size of the previous one, but any thrill I might have had is gone.
My body's too busy dealing with the fact that I'm leaving Jay.

I gently hug myself to him, “I can't say goodbye again, it hurts too much.”
He strokes my hair and I close my eyes, soaking in his touch and smell.
“It sucks, but I need to know you're safe. I'll focus better.” He starts leading me to the plane and

stops at the start of the stairs leading to the entrance.

He places a hand on each cheek and looks down at me, “I promise.”
That's all it takes and I'm a crying, blubbering mess. He pulls me in and I cry freely in his arms.
“I love you, Jay Lincoln.”

“Fuck baby, I love you too.”
He unhooks my arms from him and he wipes away my tears, “It's time to go. I need to get you far

away from me, even though it's killing me.” He takes my right hand in his and slips a ring on my
middle finger, “My mom's. It's the only jewelry she ever wore. My dad gave it to her on the day she
gave birth to me. She never took it off.”

I look down at my hand to see a simple gold band around my middle finger. What makes it stand

out is the beautiful round blue gemstone on top with a gold frame around it. The stone has what
reminds me of a sparkling star embedded inside, winking at me.

“It's beautiful,” I gush. My heart swells, knowing what it means for him to give me something like

this. “What kind of stone is it?”

“Star sapphire. My birthday's in September.”
“Thank you.”
He leans down and smashes his lips to mine. We take long, slow strokes with our tongues,

memorizing the taste and feel. The love and sorrow we both feel mingles together in our mouths. His
hands dig into the hair behind my ears, pulling me harder against him. I can feel the kiss all the way
down to my toes. He parts our lips and rests his forehead to mine.

“How long?”
“No clue, it could be months and months.”
Oh god, that hurts to think about.
“I'm going to miss you so much.”
“Me too,” his voice cracks, sounding like he's on the verge of losing it. “You've got to get on the

plane before I can't let you go.”

I want to stay right here and not move, but I know he's right. He needs to focus and not worry

about where I am or if I’m safe.

We get in one last kiss, no tongue, just lips crushed together, unmoving. Our hands are placed on

each other's head, forcefully pressing it closer.

“I love you, Lily,” he breathes along my lips.
“I love you, Jay.”
I let go and turn around to climb the stairs. At the top I don't turn around, afraid I'll change my

mind and run back to him.

Inside, the attendant gestures to any seat. I don't even notice the inside of the plane and take the

first seat I find by a window facing Jay. I buckle in and look out to find Jay resting back on the
Escalade, watching me. His brows are pulled in, eyes squinting, jaw locked, lips straight. He looks in
more pain than I have ever seen him, not even trying to mask it. I wonder if for once he feels so
strongly he can't.

My tears are falling heavy and free, making him blurry. The plane starts and it has me crying even

harder, the heartache so massive my chest might break. I stare out the window until Jay is lost from
view. I sob into the pillow next to me, equally in fear for what's to come and our separation.
Eventually I stop and the attendant hands me a glass of champagne and a sympathetic frown. I gulp it
down and ask for the whole bottle. I drink straight from it and stare out the window. How the hell am
I going to go back to my life and try to live it like the last month never happened?

End of Part I

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