No use pretending I’m asleep. Opening my eyes, I stretch my neck and take in the scenery. We’re crossing a dry stretch of land dotted with small bushes.
“The Karoo,” Jake says. “We passed Beaufort West a while ago.”
Despite my anger, I can’t help but be curious. I’ve never traveled farther than Johannesburg.
“Hungry?” he asks. “There are snacks in the cooler bag on the backseat.”
I consider ignoring his damn snacks, but starving like a martyr won’t change where I am or that Jake isn’t taking me back. I may as well eat his food. Grabbing the cooler box, I open it to find sandwiches, juice, and apples.
As I’m biting into a cheese and ham sandwich, Jake asks, “Can I have one?”
I shoot him a hostile look, about to say no, but there are rings under his eyes and dark stubble on his jaw. I check my watch. He’s been driving for nine hours straight. He must be hammered, not that I feel sorry for him.
Grudgingly removing the cling wrap from a sandwich, I hand it to him. As an afterthought, I place a paper napkin on his thigh.
“Thanks,” he mumbles with a full mouth, giving me a wink.
I snort before taking another bite. Ew. There’s at least an inch of butter between the slices. How much mayonnaise did he use? The whole jar?
“Like it?” he asks. “Made them myself.”
“No.”
“We can stop at the next gas station. There should be a diner where I can find you a more appetizing breakfast.”
I chew and swallow. “Forget it.” I hate wasting food.
“Want to stretch your legs?”
Spitefully, I don’t answer.
“Need a bathroom break?”
Wait. If he stops at the gas station, I can ask someone for a phone. Who am I going to call? My mom is in on this. There will be hell to pay when I get back. I don’t really want the police to charge Jake with kidnapping. That will only strengthen Luan’s case in not granting Jake shared custody of Noah. Luan said some things yesterday, but he was upset. He must see reason. He must understand why someone like me, who grew up without a father, doesn’t want the same for my child. Luan has a logical mind. He’s patient and reasonable. He’d keep a cool head. If I call him, he’d help me.
“Yes,” I say, finishing off the last of the bread with an unladylike bite.
At the next picnic area, Jake pulls off on the side of the road. I stare at the single concrete table and bench standing under a threadbare thorn tree. “Here?”
He switches off the engine and leans over me to open the glove compartment. “Here’s a bog roll.”
I gape at the roll of toilet paper he places on my palm. “Seriously?”
“It’s biodegradable.”
“You know very well I’m referring to going in the middle of nowhere and not to polluting the earth.”
“I can’t imagine you being scared of doing it camping style.”
“Just because I live in a trailer doesn’t mean I’m used to roughing it up.”
“Better get going if you’re serious about that bathroom break. I want to be back on the road in ten minutes.”
I glance at the sparse, small bushes. “There’s nowhere private.”
He grins. “At least it’s open, so you don’t risk stumbling upon a snake.”
“A snake?” I screech.
Laughing softly, he gets out and comes around to open my door. Unfortunately, he took the keys. I would’ve been very tempted to hop over the console and drive off, leaving him and his biodegradable bog roll behind.
When I don’t budge, he takes my arm, pulls me out of the car, and leads me to a cluster of bushes a small distance away. After scouting the ground, he says, “No snakes or scorpions that will bite your ass. Go ahead.”
Snakes and scorpions scare me, but I’m also tempted to refuse going in the open just to make his life difficult. Although, with how full my bladder is, I’d only spite myself.
“Go away,” I say on a scoff.
He turns his back on me and crosses his arms.
“Which part of go away don’t you understand, Jake Basson?”
“I’m being a gentleman, Pretorius. Just pee, already.”
“You’re being a gentleman by crowding my space?”
“By blocking the view from the road, in case a car comes by.”
I see his point. Without a choice, I do my business and stash the biodegradable paper under a rock. I’ve barely adjusted my clothes before he turns back and scrutinizes me with a gaze that runs from the top of my head to my trainers.
“Done?” he asks with a glint in his eyes.
“Obviously.” Accusingly, I add, “I need to wash my hands. I hope you have a clever plan for that too.”
Without bothering to reply, he unzips his fly and takes out his cock. Just like that. Not caring that I’m staring. Flinging around, I fix my gaze on the single hill that disturbs the flat horizon while heat warms my cheeks. I listen to Jake relieving himself, flustered, embarrassed, and all kinds of furious.
“Ready,” he announces.
I wait until I hear the sound of his zipper before I face him again, but he’s already making his way back to the car. With a glance around, just to be certain there really are no snakes, I follow. He takes gel sanitizer from the door compartment and motions at my hands. When I hold out my palms, he squirts a blob onto each before dumping the bottle on the seat and taking my hands between his, rubbing gently.
“What are you doing?”
“Implementing my clever plan.”
I’m not going to comment on that. I watch him while he works, ignoring the fluttering in my stomach as he meticulously covers the whole surface of my hands. “I have to call Luan.”
He stills, and then drops my hands. “I’m sure Gina spoke to him.”
“It’s my job to speak to him.” I add in a biting tone, “I have to explain why I won’t be at work today.”
He looks up and down the road as if the answer lies there. Finally, he dips his hand into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out my phone.
I all but grab it from him. Oh, thank God. I have a signal. I can’t dial Luan fast enough. Please, please, please. Let him come save me. I can’t do this. I can’t be alone with Jake. Not for three weeks. Not for a day.
“Do you mind?” I say when the ringtone starts and he’s still standing toe to toe with me.
He shrugs. “What?”
“Privacy? Duh.”
Taking my arm, he manhandles me into the car. “You can talk while I drive.”
“What? No, wait.”
The door slams in my face. I’m about to protest again when Luan answers.
“Morning, Kristi. Is Noah sick again?”
Jake is all teeth while he starts the engine and throws the car into gear. Obstinate bastard.
“Not exactly.” I give Jake another angry look.
“Then what’s up?” A car door slams. “I’m just leaving to fetch you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Why not?”
“I, um, won’t be coming in to work today.”
“What happened?”
“I have a situation.”
Jake is staring straight ahead. At least his expression is serious and no longer mocking. Turning away from him, I lower my voice. “Jake tricked me into going away with him.”
Two seconds pass. “Can you repeat that?”
“Jake bundled me into his car last night, and now we’re nine hours away in some godforsaken place with snakes and scorpions and nothing but sand.”
“And bushes,” Jake adds.
I fling around and narrow my eyes before leaning toward the limited privacy close to the door. “He took my phone, or I would’ve called you last night.”
Silence.
“Luan? Are you there?”
“For how long is this forced trip supposed to last?” Luan asks.
“I’m getting home the minute I figure out a way.”
&
nbsp; “I’m calling the cops.”
“No,” I say quickly. “I don’t want to go that route.”
“Then you’re not serious about getting home.”
“How can you say that? How can you even think that? I had no control over what happened.”
“Kristi…”
I wait, hoping he’ll say he’s going to come to rescue me, but I’m not prepared for the words he utters.
“You’re fired.”
“What?” I cry softly.
“It’s over between us.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I can’t accept this kind of behavior.”
“It’s not my fault.”
“You’re staying away from work without having filed a leave application. That’s serious. If you’re innocent, call the cops, get Jake arrested, and come back to work. It’s that simple.”
“No,” I whisper, “you know it’s not.”
“Well, then you have your answer, and I have mine. Goodbye, Kristi. Enjoy your unemployment.”
The line goes dead.
I stare at the phone.
He hung up on me. He fired me. He broke up with me.
Before I can come to my senses, Jake takes my phone from my hand and shoves it back into his pocket. “I take it he didn’t handle the news well.”
Angry tears well up in my eyes. When the first one slips free, I feel like slapping the compassionate look from Jake’s face, because it’s a gorgeous face that’s unfairly sexy for someone who hasn’t slept, showered, or shaved.
“Hey.” He wipes a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “It’s going to be all right.”
I slap his hand away. “It’s not going to be all right. I lost my job. My job, Jake.”
“We’ll work it out.”
“I needed that job.” I throw my hands in the air. “How are Noah and I supposed to live?”
“I’ll take care of you.”
“If you’re planning on staying in Rensburg like you claim, you don’t have a job. Even if you had one, I don’t want you to take care of us.”
“It’s all right to give up a little of that control you’re holding onto so tightly. You don’t have to do it all by yourself.”
“A little?” I turn away, staring out of the side window. “You’re talking about our livelihoods.”
“I didn’t have time to tell you, but I have a job.”
“Oh, yeah?” I cross my arms. “Doing what?”
“Tessa put in a good word for me at the steakhouse. You’re looking at their new manager. I start next month.”
“Congratulations,” I say flatly.
“Kristi, look at me.” When I don’t oblige, he repeats in a gentle tone, “Look at me.”
It’s hard to look at him when I’m simmering with helpless anger, but he grips my chin and turns my head toward him, giving me no choice.
“We’re going to work it out. I promise. For now, all I want you to do is relax.”
“It’s a little hard to relax when you’re screwing up my life.”
He drops his hand and focuses on the road, but not before I’ve glimpsed a spark of vulnerability in his eyes. Why must I feel guilty? If Jake didn’t kidnap me, I’d still have a job and a future with a stable, well-established man. Security. Given, my relationship with Luan wasn’t the most romantic in the world, but that’s not what I’m looking for. I’m looking for someone I can rely on, someone I can trust.
I’m ashamed to admit I’m more shocked about having lost my job than my boyfriend. I’m disappointed in Luan. I expected more support from him. Am I being unfair? Can any man support you if your almost-ex is taking you against your will on an unwanted holiday? Logic says no, but my heart wanted Luan to fight for me. At least a little harder. I wanted him to get into his car and come rescue me, but now I’m stuck with Jake in the middle of nowhere.
“Everything all right?” Jake asks.
“How can you even ask me that?”
“You’re upset.”
“How do you expect me to feel? Happy?”
“Not exactly, but I didn’t want to make you cry.”
I swipe at my cheeks angrily. They’re wet, but my tears are more from frustration than the end of my first stable relationship.
His fingers clench around the wheel. “What did Luan say to make you cry?”
“None of your business.”
“I’ll call and ask him myself.”
I scoff.
“Don’t test me. You know I’ll do it.”
“He broke up with me.”
“That son of a bitch.”
I look at Jake quickly to see if he’s mocking me, but he appears genuinely upset. “I thought you’d be happy with the turn of events.”
“He could’ve waited for you to make your decision, or at the very least until you got back.”
He seems so truly agitated, I believe him. “Luan doesn’t operate like that. He’s a black and white kind of guy who does things by the book.”
“Boring, in other words.”
“That’s not fair. You don’t know him, and he’s not here to defend himself.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect him to bail on you for something that’s out of your control.”
“He’s a guy, Jake. How did you expect him to behave? Tell me he’d wait for me and to have fun?”
“I would’ve.”
“Really?”
“Well, not the fun part.”
There’s something truthful in his eyes as he speaks. All the layers of broody, bullshitting Jake have been peeled away, and what he’s showing me is the true essence of his feelings. The seriousness with which he stares at me finally makes me look away again.
“I need to call my mom to ask how Noah is doing.” I stare with non-seeing eyes through the window, missing my baby like crazy. We’ve never been separated.
“You can call when we get there.”
“I want to speak to her now.”
“Not up for discussion.”
“You’re a jerk.”
“I know.”
I huff in frustration. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“You’ll see soon enough. It’s not much farther.”
In the silence that follows, we drink the juice and eat the apples. We pass a gas station with the diner Jake mentioned, but he doesn’t stop. After another ten minutes, he takes a dirt road that cuts through the terrain and leads to a cluster of trees in the distance. A wind pump towers above the treetops. Judging by the rest of the barren landscape, the tall, leafy trees didn’t grow here naturally. They must’ve been planted a long time ago, and someone must be watering them.
Jake parks under one of the trees and leans forward to squint through the windscreen. A farmhouse with whitewashed walls and a thatch roof stands in the circle of what I make out to be oak trees. When he opens his door, the loud hum of sun beetles greets us. I get out before he has a chance to come around and get my door. Turning in a slow circle, I study the surroundings. It’s flat and dry, deserted as far as the eye can see. A depressing shudder runs over me. We’re out in the sticks. Unless I manage to steal the car, there’s no way of escaping, which is probably why Jake chose this sad location.
“What do you think?” he asks behind me.
I’m about to tell him how ugly and forlorn the place is, but when I turn, I see something very different in his expression. Adoration. Nostalgia. He loves it here. He knows the place.
“You’ve been here before,” I say.
“We used to come here on holiday.”
I can’t help myself from asking, “Whatever for?”
“My father loved the Karoo.” His laugh is wry. “It’s probably the only thing we had in common.”
I crane my neck to see beyond the trees. There’s a concrete dam. A pipe leading from the wind pump feeds it water. Borehole. That explains how whoever lives here keeps the trees green.
“Who’s the owner?”
“He live
s in Oudtshoorn.”
“No one stays here permanently?”
“No.”
“Why would anyone rent a house in the middle of nowhere?”
Grabbing two bags from the trunk, he says, “It has its charm. You’ll see.”
I doubt that very much, but it’s hot, even this early and in the shade, so I follow him when he makes his way to the house.
After retrieving the key from a hollow in one of the tree trunks, he lets us inside. It’s cool, and it smells like floor polish. Someone must’ve prepared the house for our unexpected holiday. I pad behind Jake over the wooden floor of a spacious lounge with a bay window overlooking the front yard.
We pass through a kitchen with log cupboards and terracotta countertops into a short hallway.
Jake enters through the first door and dumps one of the bags on the bed. “This is you.”
“Me?”
“I’ll be next door.”
That comes as a surprise. I expected him to bully me into sharing a bed. My gaze settles on the familiar green travel bag.
“Gina packed for you.” When I don’t say anything, he walks to the door. “Make yourself at home while I get the rest of the stuff from the car.”
After he’s gone, I study the room. It’s simple but comfortable. There’s a double bed with white linen and lots of scatter pillows. I find a smaller bedroom with a single bed down the hall, next to a bathroom with an old-fashioned tub. Going back to my room, I unzip the bag and check inside. There are some of my clothes, a pair of sandals, and my toilet bag. I can’t believe my mom packed my belongings behind my back.
Jake’s face appears around the doorframe. “Coffee?”
“Yes.” I’m desperate for caffeine, but I refuse to say please.
“With milk and one sugar, coming up.”
I hate that he knows how I drink my coffee. “You said I could call my mom.”
He takes my phone from his pocket and hands it to me.
I snatch it from his hand and waste no time in dialing my mom.
She answers, “Where are you?”
“Somewhere in the damn Karoo.”
“Before you get upset—”
“Too late. How could you do this?”
Jake throws a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll start the coffee.”
“Honey, Jake is right. You need time with him to be sure you’re not making a mistake.”
Catch Me Twice Page 22
