by Shauna Allen
A scream bubbled up in my throat and I leapt back. There, on my front mat, a blood red rose laid nestled in black tissue paper. My body went numb and my fingers became blocks of ice as I fumbled with the door lock. I glanced toward the parking lot just as my door gave way and opened.
There, sitting in a generic blue car, he stared, his eyes begging me to recognize him and fall down in fear.
Terror ripped up my spine, clawing at my vertebrae, but I managed to shove open my door and jump inside. I slammed the bolt lock and slid the chain with shaking fingers, working on autopilot.
I wanted to slide to the floor and cower, but I refused. Instead, I walked to the front window, cell phone in hand. On a deep breath, I peeked through the blinds to make sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me.
I wasn’t crazy.
Nolan had found me.
Before I had time to consider confronting him, he reversed and sped out of the lot. I tried to read his license plate, but he was moving too fast.
I sagged into my recliner and waded through my confusion and fear.
He’d found me.
Now what?
My phone buzzed in my hand and I jumped, a startled yelp on my lips.
Have a good day : )
Micah’s innocent words mocked me. I desperately wanted him to be my future, but I was trapped. My past had caught up with me. It was time to deal with it or lay down and submit. I’d be damned.
I shot Micah a reply: He’s here
Then I called the police.
Micah
I’d just pulled into the Jack ‘Em Up lot when Jewel’s text came through.
He’s here
Every cell in my body clenched in anger and impotent fear. I made a squealing donut in the lot and sped back toward her, dialing as I flew into traffic, earning myself a long, angry honk.
I didn’t care. I had to get to her.
She didn’t answer. I dialed again. Nothing.
The seven minutes back to her apartment felt like an eternity as my stomach ate itself up with anxiety. That fucker had found her and I hadn’t been there to protect her.
I skidded into her apartment’s parking lot and relief slid through me when I spotted a beautiful blond head next to a police officer at his cruiser.
I parked two spots over and leapt from the Jeep to stride her way.
She glanced up. Her face was pale and drawn, and surprise lit her eyes when she saw me. I immediately collected her into my arms, ignoring the officer. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and drew back with a weak smile. “Just a little shaken up.”
I kept my hold firmly around her waist as she turned back to the cop, who was taking her statement.
“Miss Jackson, are you sure it was Nolan Watkins? Could you have been mistaken?” he asked, his pen poised above his worn notebook.
“I’m sure.”
He mmmhmmmed and wrote a few notes. “And you have a restraining order against him?” he asked without glancing up.
“Yes. It was filed in Sarasota County if you need to check.”
As I listened to her tell him about the roses and him sitting in the parking lot this morning, I rubbed small circles on her back in a show of comfort, though my primal urge to protect her and rip that fucker apart was still surging through my veins.
The officer glanced up, his eyes sincere. “Did he violate the terms of the restraining order today?”
Her face fell. “Well . . . not technically, I guess.”
His gaze drifted to me then back as he tucked his notepad away. “Then there’s not much I can do at this point other than make a note of your complaint. If he does come into direct contact with you or do anything else threatening, please let us know.”
She nodded and he left her his card. I was fuming by the time I got her back inside.
“What the fuck was that?” I didn’t mean to direct my anger at her, but this was bullshit. How could she have an actual legal document that said he couldn’t get near her, but the cops couldn’t do anything when he was obviously taunting her?
She sunk to the couch and dropped her face into her hands. “He’s right. He didn’t get within fifty feet of me, he didn’t touch me, hell, he didn’t even speak to me.”
“Still . . .” Deflated, I sat next to her.
She studied me with weary green eyes. “What’re you doing here?”
“Seriously? I would’ve gotten here sooner if my Jeep could fly. Fuck, Jewel. You texted me he was here and you didn’t think I’d come? After this morning?”
Tears began to drizzle down her cheeks and I felt like a total asshole.
“I’m sorry, baby.” I scooped her into my embrace and kissed her head. “I was just scared.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m scared, too. You should’ve seen his face. He wants to finish what he started.”
God damn motherfucking son-of-a-bitch. I would kill him. Rip him limb from limb and enjoy doing it. My own bloodthirst should’ve scared me, reminded me of the man I used to be, but it only fueled the fire within me.
Like it or not, Jewel was mine now and I would protect her at all costs.
All. Costs.
She lifted her face and wiped her tears as she looked me in the eye. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “He abused me.”
If I thought I was pissed before, I was absolutely crazy with rage as she began telling me what she’d endured at his hands. How he’d talked her down, called her fat, degraded her in front of people, slapped her, shoved her, wrapped his hands around her throat to kill her.
I shoved my own emotion away and focused on her words. She needed my support, not a lunatic on the warpath.
But that’s what I was, wasn’t I?
Was there a way to make this work without wounding her more than she already was? Could I protect her from Nolan and myself?
I’d damn well try.
“You know you can’t stay here, right, Jewel? Not now that he knows where you live.”
She sniffled. “I know. I’ll figure something out. Maybe Blake and Delilah will let me crash there for a few days until I figure this out.”
“Stay with me.”
“What? I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Well, because . . . just because, Micah. That’s crazy.”
“What’s crazy is you have an abusive ex out to get you and you wanna argue about staying with me and letting me take care of you.”
“Is that what you want? To take care of me?”
“Fuck, yes. More than anything.” God, it was true. I had a burning, aching need to wrap this woman up in whatever warmth and protection I could provide. It was primal, but no less real.
“Will we still be doing the baby steps, being together thing, or is that on hold now?”
I gazed into her eerily green eyes. “Whatever you want.”
“You sure I won’t be intruding?”
“Jesus, baby. You not being there would be worse. Just say yes.”
“Okay. Yes. But only for a little while.”
I agreed even though I knew it would be over my dead body she would be alone with that guy still on the loose.
While she packed up her essentials, I called Blake at the shop and gave a cursory explanation, telling him I wouldn’t be in today.
“She’s all right, man?” he asked, obviously concerned for his wife’s cousin.
“She’s fine. And she’s going to stay that way. That’s a promise.”
“Thanks, Micah.”
“No need to thank me. It’s my job.” I ended the call before he could question me and faced Jewel when she walked in, suitcase in hand.
She glanced at the phone in my hand and I wondered how much of that call she’d heard. “I packed what I could. Guess I can come back later if I need something else.”
I hefted the suitcase and led her to the Jeep, my eyes peeled around the parking lot for the blue sedan she’d des
cribed. Nothing. No sign of anyone following us either.
Back at my apartment, she stood in the doorway, her face painted with uncertainty. “You’re really sure about this?”
I didn’t reply. Instead, I ushered her inside and down the hall to the guestroom. I placed her suitcase on the bed and offered her the best smile I could, though I was still simmering with emotional muck.
“Do you still have to work today?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I called in after . . .”
“Me, too.”
Her eyes flew to mine. “You did?”
“You didn’t actually think I’d leave you here alone, did you?”
“Well, I’m not sure what to think, honestly.”
I brushed her bottom lip with my thumb. “Just unpack, make yourself at home. I’ll go work on some stuff for the shop on the computer and give you some time to get settled in.”
I pried myself away from her and planted myself with my laptop at the dining room table. I booted it up and sorted through my emails first. An unopened email from Sergeant Dempsey dated the day after we had lunch sat at the top.
I finally clicked it open.
Hey, Corporal.
Thanks for meeting me for lunch. It was great to see you again. Fishing was great with my dad, landed a 200lb Marlin. Pretty badass.
Hope you thought on what we talked about. It’s time to leave the past in the past and move on. For all of us. Here are the email and physical addresses for Mr. and Mrs. Martinez and Franks’ grandma, who raised him.
It’ll be okay, Micah.
Take care of yourself.
Wyatt
(Sarg to you!)
I glanced up when I heard the shower hiss to life in the guest bathroom. I hoped Jewel would be comfortable with me. I wasn’t known to be the best roommate. I turned back to Dempsey’s email and the addresses in Ohio and Maine he’d provided. Could I do it? What would it solve?
I shut down my email and booted up the bookkeeping stuff for the shop to divert the ugly thoughts already starting to crowd my brain.
I worked for a while before I realized I hadn’t heard a peep from Jewel since the shower cut off over an hour ago. I stood and padded down the hall. Her bedroom door was cracked so I peeked in. She was curled up on her side, sound asleep. Her mouth was parted slightly as she breathed, long lashes fanned her cheeks, golden hair was spread across the navy blue pillowcase like the sun streaking over the ocean.
I quietly slipped in and covered her with a throw blanket before closing her door behind me to let her rest. I was well aware how exhausting trauma could be.
I sat back at my computer, the cursor blinking at me. I couldn’t concentrate. Between what happened with Jewel this morning and Dempsey’s email, I was at a loss. Frozen in indecision.
Unable to do anything else, I opened a blank page to compose an email. I started with the parents of my closest friend.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Martinez,
I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write to you. Honestly, I haven’t known what to say and I don’t want to cause you more pain. Juan was my best friend in Afghanistan and he talked about you a lot. I can almost taste your tamales because he talked about those almost as much.
Juan’s death has tortured me since that day. I can’t imagine what you must be going through. Please know, if there was any way I could take it all back, erase it or take his place, I would in a heartbeat. I killed your son. I killed my best friend, and I’ll go to my grave regretting it . . .
I dropped my head into my hand. I could never send this letter.
“You okay?”
I snapped up at Jewel’s soft words and quickly closed my laptop. “Yeah.” I cleared the emotion from my throat. “Get a good nap?”
She pulled out the chair next to mine and sat. “Yes. Thanks.”
I bit my lip and studied her face. “Can I do anything for you? Do you need anything at all?”
Her smile grew like a flower blossoming, timid at first, then emboldened. “You are a sweetheart, Micah Christian.”
I shifted, uncomfortable.
“What are your thoughts on seafood?” she finally asked.
“Seafood?”
“Yeah. Shrimp? Crab? Fish? Do you like it?”
“Sure.”
“If you take me to the store, I’ll buy stuff and cook for you tonight.”
This was a first for me. “Yeah?”
“It’s the least I can do since you’re letting me stay here.”
“Okay.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll need you to take me to pick up my truck, too, when you have time.”
“I don’t mind.”
We picked up her truck and a few items at her apartment she’d forgotten, drove it all back to my place, then headed to the store. I had no idea what an adventure I was in for.
We spent probably twenty minutes perusing every single selection in the seafood department before she finally settled on salmon and sides she deemed “healthy enough.” I laughed at her attempts to decide if pasta counted.
“Whole wheat is still a carb, right?” she asked, her face serious.
I tossed the package in the basket. “It’s fine. Remember, balance.”
“Right.” She moved on to the veggies and I followed, enjoying the view.
“Jewel?”
I was at attention in a nanosecond at the man’s voice behind us, putting myself between them. I spun, fists already clenched, only to find a tall guy wearing a police uniform. She glanced between us, taking note of my protective stance with a frown.
“Hey, Officer Varga,” she said behind me.
“Everything all right? Curry said he got called out to your place this morning.”
“Oh. Yeah. It’s fine now.”
I caught her out of the corner of my eye as she stepped forward, but I was relieved when she unconsciously kept close to my side. I made a mental note to keep teaching her more than what we covered in self-defense class. I couldn’t be around all the time and I wanted her to be able to protect herself.
Officer Varga chatted her up a couple more minutes then finally moved on. I frowned at his back, trying to decide if he’d hit on her. He was subtle, but I caught definite flirty overtones.
“You date him?” I asked, my voice low.
“No.”
I faced her. “Good.”
She was grinning as we moved on toward the produce. “Are you jealous, Micah?”
“No.”
She laughed. “Okay.” She only laughed harder when I narrowed my eyes at her over the display of avocadoes. “You are an adorable liar. I’m flattered.”
I grabbed a ripe avocado and tossed it to her to put in the cart. “Just so we’re clear, you have no plans to go out with him in the future either, right?”
She grabbed a bag for a bunch of celery. “Nope.” She glanced my way. “Why?”
“Call me selfish, but I don’t share, Jewel. If we’re doing this thing, we do it together. No one else.”
She was close enough I could smell her honeysuckle scent as she gazed up at me. “That goes both ways?”
“Of course.” What kind of question was that?
Right there, in front of God, the tomatoes, and everybody, she speared her fingers through my hair and drug me close. “Together.”
“Together,” I echoed as her lips closed over mine. Her kiss was soft and sweet then fierce and fast. Just like my feelings for her.
She drew back with a sigh. “What are you doing to me?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Hell if I know, darlin’. Probably the same thing you’re doing to me.”
Jewel
I cooked Micah dinner and it turned out reasonably well. We ate and grilled each other with more questions. Favorite alcoholic drinks. Childhood toys. Sports teams we loved. Foods, colors, movies, music, cars, art, books . . . on and on, long into the night.
I’d broken down my walls and let him in, telling him the truth about Nolan, and he did
n’t seem to treat me any different. If anything, he’d become more protective and sweet. I, of course, asked him about Afghanistan again, but he passed. Again. I wanted him to be ready, but I was beginning to wonder if he ever would be.
Before we went to bed, I reluctantly agreed to let him drive me to work for a while. Hopefully Nolan would go away or do something stupid and get caught soon and this would finally be over. It just scared me what he’d have to do to get arrested. I knew what he was capable of, but for once, I was strong enough to fight back.
I snuggled under the covers of Micah’s guest bed and tried to read, but all I could think about was that he was just across the hall. I wondered what he slept in, what it would feel like to lay in his arms in bed. To make love with him.
I would’ve never thought someone like him could ever be attracted to someone like me, but he was proving it to me a little more every day in a thousand tiny ways. The heated glimpses from his deep, dark, endless eyes. The way he’d smile only for me. How open he was with his life. How he wanted to protect me. The way he kissed me like I was made just for him.
Giving up, I put my book away, shut off the light, and curled up to try and sleep. The new sounds of his home at night kept me up for a while, but I eventually drifted.
Moments later, my eyes snapped open and I stared into utter darkness, searching for my bearings. Why was my heart fighting to leap from my chest? I rolled over and listened for what had woken me.
A low, keening cry drifted through my door.
Was that a child? A wounded animal?
I threw off my covers and padded cautiously to the door, cracking it to peek out into the dark hallway. Nothing moved.
Just as my heartrate began to slow, it came again, louder this time. The primal noise of agony ripped at my heart.
Micah.
I ran to his door then froze, debating whether I should knock or not. Something was obviously very wrong, but I didn’t want to invade his privacy uninvited.
“No!” His voice cracked like it was coated in tears. Or fear.
Without another thought, I opened his door, thankful he hadn’t locked it. His dark form was huddled under the covers, thrashing and moaning as a nightmare consumed him.
