by Jenna Rose
“I—I don’t know…”
“Because if they don’t know,” Dawson continues, “and if your car has been towed to a lot by now, then the drive might still be there and I could go get it.”
“You?” I say quickly. “No, I can’t let you—”
“Are you kidding me?” he laughs, placing a hand on my knee. “You think I’m going to save your life and then just abandon you? I’m involved now, Joy.”
“I can’t let you do that, Dawson,” I tell him as my heart starts to race. But he quickly stands up and sets his mug aside.
“You can’t stop me either.” He grins as he puts his shoes on. I’m on my feet in an instant, blocking the door.
“No!” I tell him. “I can’t let you. If—if anything happened to you—”
“Don’t worry,” he tells me. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m a Marine, remember? I fought terrorism in Afghanistan; a couple of Russian mobsters aren’t going to be the ones to take me down.”
“Please,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around him. “Don’t go. I’ll never forgive you if you do.”
“And I’ll never forgive myself if there was a chance for us to finish the work you did, Joy – a chance to expose that son of a bitch and save all those women he’s harmed.”
My heart sinks. He’s right. Of course he’s right, and I should be thankful for his help, but I’m even more terrified that he’ll end up getting hurt because of me.
“Where is the USB drive, Joy?” he asks me. For a second, I think about not telling him. But I know he’s just going to go anyway, and if he doesn’t know where to look, he could end up in even more trouble.
“A pocket under the seat,” I tell him, barely able to find the words. “It’s part of the fabric; it’s hard to notice. It’s on the left.”
“Got it,” he says. There’s not an ounce of fear in his voice. I can feel the strength in his body.
“Why are you doing this, Dawson?” I finally ask him. He just looks down at me as though I should already know the answer to my question.
“Because, Joy,” he says softly as he gently drags the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “I’ve been missing something in my life for so long, and now I think I finally found it.”
My jaw drops, but before I can respond, Dawson slips out of my arms and out the door into the night.
Please come back to me, Dawson. Please.
6
Joy
The next three hours are the longest three hours of my life. I try to entertain myself in the cabin, but it seems like Dawson has been spending all his free time working on the place and there’s only a couple of magazines and a few books on woodworking for entertainment. He doesn’t have a TV or a computer or a laptop, or anything to play music on, so I actually start thumbing through one of the books and reading about how to do something called a “dove-tail joint,” which is a way of joining two pieces of wood together.
But my mind just won’t sit still; I can’t stop thinking about Dawson out there with those two men after him – or maybe more by now – and the terrible things that could happen to him (or could already have happened).
A couple of times I actually think about calling the police. But I don’t know how many of them the senator might have on the payroll, and I also realize I don’t have my phone either. All I can do is watch the minute hands on Dawson’s wall clock slowly tick by as I listen for the sound of his car engine coming home.
Home? Did I just think that? The thought frightens me; there’s no denying that Dawson is a gorgeous dreamboat, but how am I already thinking about his cabin as home?
“Already!? Gah!”
Exasperated, I hop up off the couch where I’ve been trying to relax and start pacing around the room.
“What is wrong with you, Joy? Home? Already? What the hell? This is real life, not a romance novel!” I stop dead by the kitchen and look around. “And now I’m talking to myself!”
I start pacing again, doing laps around the living room as I try to find something to stick my brain on to distract me from whatever it is that Dawson has done to me. Even when he’s not here he’s still doing something to me that I can’t understand.
Am I really falling for him already? I wonder. It doesn’t seem possible. That’s not the Joy I know, but then again, the Joy I know wouldn’t have asked a stranger to take her virginity in the shower only an hour after meeting him…if that.
But I did, and Dawson was a gentleman enough about the whole thing to realize I wasn’t acting rationally and turn me down. But if I wasn’t acting rationally then, how come now I still want nothing more than for him to come back through that door, throw me down on the bed and claim me like I’m his woman and he owns me?
I slide my hand between my legs—yup, soaking. I’m worried sick about him and what might happen if those men find him again, but at the same time, I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to lie beneath his muscular body and surrender all control.
That’s one thing I’m terrible at: not being in control. It’s one of the reasons I never dated, why I always worked my butt off in school so my grades were top notch, and why I decided to go into politics. Working for the senator was meant to be a steppingstone to my own career – a way to effect change. But as it turns out, I found something much more important along the way.
I glance up at the clock on the wall; he’s been gone four hours. He should be back now.
It’s killing me to just sit here, and I want to go after him, but his car is gone and I don’t have my phone to call an Uber. Besides, Dawson would kill me if he came back and I wasn’t here. He told me to stay put, so that’s what I’m going to do.
“Yes, that’s what I’m going to do,” I say again. But after another half hour has passed, and I’ve done another hundred laps around the living room, I just can’t take it anymore. I rush into the bedroom and find a pair of shorts that semi-fit me after I roll them a few times, and a T-shirt that fits like a dress, and go outside to look around for another car; there isn’t one, which makes me feel even worse about crashing into his earlier.
There is, however, a mountain bike. Chewing my lip, I quickly debate my options. I can either stay here like he told me, potentially letting him get killed in the process, or I can get on the bike and go find him. But how will I be able to help him? Where am I even going? Where is my car?
“No,” I say, turning back inside. “I can’t. Don’t do it, Joy.”
I step back into the cabin, but as I do, I take a deep breath and Dawson’s scent, embedded in his T-shirt, wafts into my nose and stops me dead in my tracks. It’s like a combination of instant comfort and desire, and I know that if for some reason he never comes back to me, I’ll never be able to forgive myself or stop wondering if there was something I could have done. After all, he was willing to put his life on the line for me, so why shouldn’t I be willing to do the same?
“Sorry, Dawson,” I say into the air as I throw my leg over the bike. “But I’m coming for ya, baby!”
7
Dawson
Goddamn it, you idiot. You fucked it all up.
I should have seen that setup coming from miles away; I guess I didn’t realize who I was going up against. They’d towed Joy’s car to the only tow lot in town, and I was able to get over the fence with ease. I stayed in the shadows and scoped the place out before I moved in.
The USB drive was right where she’d said it would be, but when I turned around, one of the men had a shotgun aimed at me. He’d come out of the company office, meaning he’s either in league with the owner or he broke in ahead of time and waited. Luckily for me, I’m faster than he is, and managed to pop two shots into his stomach before he had a chance to fire.
He went down screaming before I managed to finish him off, but just as I whirled around to look for his partner, a load of buckshot caught me in the guts and send me sprawling.
I fired off two shots blindly and managed to roll out of the way of his nex
t shot and come up firing. I caught him in the knee and put one in his head as he fell, but the damage was already done.
My phone’s fucked, I’m bleeding, too damn injured to move, and I can slowly feel my life slipping away. I should be scared for myself, but all I can think about is Joy and what’s going to happen to her now.
The senator is sure to have more men working for him; they’ll find me and then they’ll find her, and without the USB drive, she’ll be powerless against them. I told her I’d do a job for her and I fucked it all up, and now she’s going to pay for it.
“Fuck!” I growl, shifting my weight to alleviate some of the pain. I can hear the sound of sirens in the distance; no doubt someone called in the shots. The police will be here soon, and unless they end up being friendly and not paid off, this is the end of the line for me and for Joy.
I should have known better; life would never let a sorry son of a bitch like me find his angel. My cards just don’t fall that way. It was stupid of me to think I could have a future with Joy, but what angers me most is that I thought I could save her.
Ex-Marine my ass! I think as a swell of anger hits me and I fight to get to my feet. But my leg gives out from under me and I collapse back into a heap of pain, clutching at my side, gritting my teeth like I’m about to bite them out of my jaw.
“Fuck!”
I let my head fall back against the cold wall of the building, and that’s when I hear it – the sound of someone at the gate. More of the senator’s men no doubt, here to finish the job. I glance quickly around, looking for somewhere to stash the USB drive on the off chance that somehow Joy manages to find it, but before I can, I hear the sound of footsteps approaching.
I grip my pistol and raise it up. I’m not going down without a fight. But when I see the figure emerge from the shadows, I can’t drop the muzzle fast enough.
“Joy!” I cry out in a hushed whisper.
“Dawson!” She races over to me and all the color drains from her face when she sees the state I’m in.
“What are you doing here?” I growl. “I told you to stay home!”
“I couldn’t!” she cries as tears begin to drop from her eyes. “I couldn’t let something happen to you!”
“Take this!” I tell her, putting the USB drive into her hand. “Take it and get out of here!”
“I’m not leaving you,” she says, putting her hands over my wound.
“You have to, Joy,” I tell her, grunting against the pain. “You have to get that information out. It’s your only chance!”
“And leave you to die!?” she asks, as though I’m asking her to do the impossible.
“Yes,” I tell her. “You have to! They’ll be here soon, Joy, and if anything happens to you—”
“Shut up!” she snaps. “What do you think I am? Some helpless woman? Do you have any idea what it took to get that information? You saved my life, Dawson, and if you think I’m going to just walk away from here and let you die, then you have no idea who I am!”
Despite the pain, despite the fact that I’m bleeding, I have to smile. What a woman! She ducks underneath one of my arms, and like she’s doing a squat at the gym, lifts with everything she’s got. The pain is unreal in my side, and I grunt as I put all the strength I have left into my legs, and as the sound of the sirens grows nearer, I make it to my feet.
“Come on,” she says.
“How did you get here?” I ask, looking around for a car.
“I biked.”
“You biked!? That’s like four miles!”
“I told you,” she says with a smile. “I’m no helpless woman.”
“I guess not,” I reply as I stagger forward, leaning on her harder than I wish I had to. She stops at a black Range Rover and I lean against it.
“Stay,” she says. “I’ll get the keys.”
“So we’re adding grand theft auto to tonight’s adventure?” I call after her. She looks back at me, her eyes flashing beneath the lights, before vanishing into the office. She returns seconds later with the keys, and with great difficulty, helps me into the passenger side.
“You good?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I grunt. “Let’s go.”
The sounds of the sirens are getting closer. Joy rushes around to the driver’s side, hops in, starts the SUV and floors it. I brace for impact as she slams into the gate, knocking it straight off its hinges, and blasts out into the night. She takes a hard turn right, causing my side to scream with pain, then floors it.
The lights above start to blur as she drives; I can feel my strength slipping away from me. I’ve lost too much blood…
…I’m not gonna make it…
“Stay with me, Dawson!” Joy snaps, rubbing my leg. “Stay awake!”
“Ugh…” I groan. “I—I’m sorry, Joy…”
“No! No, you’re not, Dawson!” I can hear the pain in her voice, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m slipping away…
The last thought in my mind before I lose consciousness is what my life could have been like with her.
“Joy, I…”
“Dawson!”
8
Joy
One week later…
“Joy? I think you should come in now.”
I look up from the couch where I’ve been sleeping to see Amy, Dawson’s nurse, standing in the door. Wiping my eyes, I glance at my phone; it’s almost three in the morning.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, sitting up. “He’s not…”
Dawson has been in the ICU for the last week. I barely got him here in time; the doctors said that if I had been even five minutes later they wouldn’t have been able to save him. Even then, it’s been touch and go for the last few days, and everyone’s been making a point of telling me to prepare myself for the worst.
“No,” Amy says. “He’s not. He’s awake, Joy.”
I hear what she says, but I can’t process it. The last seven days have been the worst days of my life – not being able to sleep more than a few hours at a time, never knowing what’s going to happen, thinking that I got Dawson killed…it’s been a nightmare. So as I follow Amy into his room, I’m on the verge of passing out.
“Hey,” he says from the bed. When I see him lying there, smiling at me like the dreamboat he is, I don’t know whether to faint or scream for joy. So I kind of do both. I throw myself forward and collapse onto his legs, crying and laughing at the same time.
“I thought I lost you!” I sob. Even now, Dawson reaches down and runs his hand through my hair to comfort me. I reach up and grab his wrist and hold on for dear life, like if I let go, he might slip away from me again.
“I’m right here,” he tells me. “Don’t you worry. I’m right here.”
There’s a weakness in his voice that breaks my heart. It’s because of me. I know that, and even if he won’t admit it, he’s in this state because of me.
“Don’t,” he says. Wiping my eyes, I look up at him. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself.”
“I—I’m not.”
“Yes you are.” He smiles. Even now, after surviving a gunshot, Dawson’s worried about me.
“Okay…maybe a little…” I admit sheepishly. He motions to me and I move up the bed to his good side and snuggle up next to him. He winces but puts an arm around me and pulls me close. I take a deep breath of his smell and feel my heart rate beginning to slow.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to do this again,” I whisper.
“You’ll be able to do it as many times as you want,” Dawson replies, gently stroking my lower back. “I don’t want you anywhere else but right here, Joy.”
A deep feeling has been forming inside of me for the last week. I brushed it off at first; how could I possibly be falling in love with a man I’ve only known for this long, right? But as I look up at him and see him staring down at me with a look of pure ownership, I know that the feeling is real and impossible to deny.
“Yeah?” I
ask him, putting my heart on the line. But it feels right; I know he’d never hurt me.
“Yeah,” he smiles, running his hand through my hair. “Now tell me; did we get him?”
A wave of excitement hits me and I sit up, smiling and brushing the tears from my eyes. I nod vigorously. “We got him!”
“Tell me all about it.” He smiles.
Quickly, I recount the events of the last week. With the USB drive, I was able to spread the information about Senator Bryant’s sex-cult and sex trafficking onto the internet where it was impossible to cover up. All the major social media outlets picked it up and then the mainstream media. Once the story broke, he tried to catch a private plane out of the country but was arrested at the airport by the FBI.
His ties to the Russian Mafia were exposed, as well as other high profile men in government and big business. It’s only the beginning, but there’s a good chance even more disgusting men will be going down with him.
I kept my name out of the whole thing and uploaded the information anonymously. People questioned it at first, but it was all easily verifiable upon closer examination, and so far, no one’s come after me. And with the senator in custody and two of his men dead, I don’t think they will be either.
When I’m finished, Dawson’s just smiling at me, and in his eyes, I see a partner – I see a man I know will always be there for me, who doesn’t just see me as a prize, but as an equal. For the first time in my life, I see a man I know I can trust.
Epilogue
Joy
Eight months later…
“God I love you,” Dawson whispers into my ear. I moan as his hand wraps around me and grabs my breast. He squeezes just hard enough to hurt, which causes me to buck my hips back against him.
