“What does it matter to you?” She knew she sounded bitchy, but that was the only way to get Jack to leave. It would be for his own good.
“If you need a ride, you can call me. You shouldn’t be walking around alone in the middle of the night.”
Oh, hell. He was protective, too? “Jack, just go. We can’t do this.”
“Do what? Talk? I’m not even touching you. I’m just worried about you, Miriam.”
“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been taking care of myself my whole life.”
Jack finally stood up and put his hands on her waist. He barely knew her, but he knew how to touch her, how to hold her, how to make her feel like she was his. She hated that she didn’t mind him touching her. She hated that she didn’t knock his possessive, gentle hands away, even though she knew she should. She despised herself for wanting to belong to him.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have to take care of yourself,” he said.
She tried to exert the will to move out of his embrace. She couldn’t. She only managed to lean in closer. “You don’t know me.”
“Yes, I do.” His lips were close, and his eyes were fixed on hers. His hands were at the small of her back, brushing up the hem of her shirt again and seeking the warmth of her flesh. An innocent touch, there on her back, but his hands on her skin ignited sparks in her blood, lit fires in her heart.
“You just met me,” she said, trying again to break free. He held her against him, gentle and unrelenting.
“So? Maybe I did just meet you, but I know you. I may not know much about you, but I know you. I don’t need to know where you went to school, or who your parents are, or why you’re so sad all the time. But I do know you deserve love, and you’re not getting it. You’re getting the opposite. That Ben guy, he’s an asshole, and it’ll only get worse.” Jack kissed her jaw, midway between her ear and her chin. Her last bit of resistance melted. “And I know you know that. You’ve resigned yourself to being with Ben. As if that’s all you deserve. You won’t even consider anything else. You’re scared of being alone, and more than anything, you’re scared of me.”
Miriam opened her mouth to argue but couldn’t. He was right, and she knew it. Damn it, he was so right. Miriam wrenched herself free, stomped up the steps, and fumbled with her keys, slipping the key into the lock and opening the door. Jack was right behind her. He grabbed her shoulders, turning her around. He wasn’t violent or rough about it, and that didn’t help her efforts to resist him. He was gentle and possessive and insistent, pulling her against his body. Miriam was pressed up against him, her breasts crushed against his chest and her hands on his shoulders and in his hair, his lips pressed against hers, moving on her mouth, his tongue slipping between her lips. He tasted like spearmint gum, smelled like paint and leather; his scent was familiar, comforting, and began to mean Jack in her mind.
His hand slid up her back, under her shirt, and her doubts were erased by the tantalizing fire of his touch. Her will to resist fluttered away on the night breeze.
She felt herself growing hot again. The back of her mind, where her thoughts never stopped, was making a connection between the fact that all Jack had to do was kiss her and she would be lit on fire. Ben had to hurt her to get that reaction.
Jack was pushing open the door and they were inside, the door kicked closed. Miriam leaned back against the kitchen counter, slipping Jack’s motorcycle jacket off and running her hands over his chest. Her shirt was on the floor somehow, and his hands were unhooking the eyelets of her bra one by one, his palms caressing the line of her ribs from back to front and pressing up against her breasts, fingers brushing her stiffened nipples; their hips were pressed together, and she felt his hard length against her. Oh, god, she wanted him. She couldn’t help it—she unbuckled his pants, slipped her hand against his stomach, under the elastic band of his underwear, and—
Miriam ripped herself free and put the counter between them, leaning over it with her head in her arms. She was stuck somewhere between a sob and half-crazed laughter. She heard Jack hiss in frustration and buckle his pants.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” she said, not looking up. “I know it’s not fair. I want you, so bad. I do. It’s not that, believe me.”
“Then what? What is it, then?” For the first time, a tinge of anger crept into his voice. She didn’t blame him. She was yanking him around, and he had every right to be angry.
“God, it’s so hard to explain.”
“Try.” He was staring into her, as if he could see every crack and crumbled shard of her oft-broken heart.
Miriam took a deep breath and stood up with her arms crossed over her chest. Her shirt and bra were on the other side of the counter, and she knew if she got too close to Jack, she’d be right back in his strong, tender arms. “You’re everything I could want. You’re sexy, kind, and you obviously like me—”
Jack laughed, a bark of disbelief. “Yeah, I obviously like you, Miriam. That’s all this is, clearly—”
Miriam cut him off. “Let me finish, please. I want you, so bad. God…why do you think I’m over here, with the counter between us? If I get too close to you, it’ll all be over. I’ll have you in my bed within seconds.”
Jack tried to round the corner of the counter, but Miriam skittered back to thump against the cold surface of the fridge, her hands not quite touching his chest as he stood a few inches away.
“No, please. Just listen. We can’t do this, not this way. We can’t be together behind Ben’s back. I can’t and won’t do that. I’ve been cheated on more times than I can count, and I hate it. I won’t do it to someone else. I’ve already been dishonest just by kissing you. By going out with you. If you want to be with me, then you’ll wait, and you’ll help me figure out a way to break up with Ben.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, and it’ll probably piss you off, but it’s just the facts. If Ben catches a whiff of this, if Ben sees you with me, he’ll kill you. I mean that literally. He did two tours in Afghanistan, and he just didn’t come back the same. Something inside him just…didn’t survive the war, even if he did come back physically intact. The drinking and hitting me, all that…he was like that before, just not so bad. It’s gotten worse in the last year since he’s been back. His dad knocked his mom around, and that’s a learned thing, I think. If you see your dad hit your mom, you either do the same thing, or you do the complete opposite. What I’m talking about with Ben, it’s hidden deep inside. You don’t see it, but it’s there. I’ve seen glimpses of it, in the worst moments. A cold kind of craziness.”
Jack handed Miriam her bra and shirt, then turned around to face away from her. “I guess that makes sense,” he said.
“Why did you turn around? You’ve already seen me,” Miriam said.
“Yeah, but if I look at you now, it’ll make it harder to keep my hands to myself. So put your shirt on, if this is how you want things.” He wasn’t angry anymore, but he was frustrated.
He turned back when Miriam gave the okay, and she could see that the evidence of his frustration still bulged against the zipper of his jeans. She forced herself to look away. She took a pair of Bud Light bottles from the fridge, opened them, and gave one to Jack. They went outside and sat on the bottom step, drinking as they talked.
“It’s not how I want things, Jack. It’s how they have to be, for right now at least. There’s literally nothing I want more in the whole world than to be with you. In every way, I would love to be with you. Please believe that. I can’t get you out of my head. I want you. I swear I do. But not like this, not in secret.”
Jack seemed perfect in every way, and she didn’t want that to change, as she knew it would the second she slept with him. All men changed after they got what they wanted. It was just life as far as Miriam knew.
The thing that scared Miriam was how inevitable it all was. As if she had no intention of not sleeping with Jack. She examined her thoughts with ruthless honesty: It was inevitable, she realized. She wanted him
, and she would have him. She just hoped she wasn’t setting herself up for worse hurt.
“I’m really sorry, Jack,” she said.
He was quiet for a long moment. “For what?” he asked, resignation in his voice. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’ve been cheated on, too, and I don’t want it like this, either. I don’t want to start a relationship on the wrong foot. I’ve done it before, and it…it sucks.”
She laughed, a little nervously. A relationship? “Well, yeah, but that’s not what I meant.” Jack glanced at her quizzically. “I meant I’m sorry for leaving you…frustrated.”
Jack laughed, shrugging, and took a long drink. “Oh, that,” he said. “I’ll be fine. I mean, it sucks, yeah. But I’ll live. Just promise me one thing.”
“I hate making promises, Jack. But I’ll try.” Promises made only led to promises broken.
“Until we can be together, let’s not let things go that far.” Jack drained the beer and set it down.
“Hey, you started it,” Miriam said. “I won’t promise, but I’ll try.” Jack put the lie to his own words by kissing her, so lightly it was almost a breath of wind against her face. “No fair,” she whispered. She started to say something and then froze, listening; she was sure she heard the revving of a powerful engine and the squealing of tires not far away. It was Ben; she could feel it in her belly and in her bones. She jumped up and pushed at Jack, panic in her eyes. “Go! He’s coming. I know it. He can’t see you here.”
“Maybe we should just confront him,” Jack suggested, all but being shoved onto his bike, helmet in hand.
“No. That’s not the way to do this. I’ll think of something. Just go.” She watched him reluctantly put on his helmet and ride away, waving once as he pulled out onto the road. She left her unfinished beer next to Jack’s and went back inside the apartment, locking the door, thinking of Jack and preparing for the worst.
* * *
Ben pounded on the door, growling curses when she didn’t answer. Eventually he gave up and descended the stairs, assuming Miriam must be out. He stopped and looked back up at her door, a sly smile forming on his lips. He pulled out his phone and sent a text message: I’m coming over. While he waited for a response, he lit a cigarette. As he smoked, he noticed a pair of beer bottles sitting on the ground near the bottom step. One of them was less than half-finished, and it had the sheen of Miriam’s lip gloss coating the bottle top. The other bottle was empty, with a thin layer of foam at the bottom, the way a beer looked after it had been chugged hurriedly.
Ben stood up, flicking the butt of his Marlboro Light away with an angry snap of his fingers. “Fucking bitch,” he muttered.
His phone vibrated: Okay, sexy. Waiting for u. Hurry. Ben smiled to himself. There was more than one fish in the sea. He got behind the wheel and roared out of the parking lot, not seeing Miriam looking out behind the blinds.
Chapter 6
Miriam
Two weeks earlier
Miriam’s phone buzzed in her apron. She took the pair of Coors to the two businessmen at table forty-five and then retreated to the kitchen to check her phone. Some vague intuition told her it was Jack, and she was right.
Are u still coming to the party tonight? I’ll keep it kosher i promise. Pick u up @ 7?
Miriam had already agreed, hadn’t she? She couldn’t very well ditch him at the last second. See you at 7 then, she texted back. He’d keep it kosher. The part that worried her was that she didn’t want him to keep it kosher; she wanted him to touch her, to kiss her.
The thing that worried her was: Where‘s Ben? He hadn’t been to work, and the last time she’d seen him had been a few nights ago, when he’d left her place thinking she hadn’t been home. She felt relieved and scared at the same time, secretly hoping he had taken off for good.
Right now, however, what she was feeling was confusing, even to her. She wanted, more than anything to see Jack. This would be their second date, which meant she was now technically cheating on Ben. Actually, she’d cheated on him when she’d kissed Jack. Did thinking about Jack count as cheating? If so, then she was cheating every five seconds.
Ben would freak if he knew. Like, he’d actually kill them both. There were times when his eyes went dark and evil, when the Ben who was still in Afghanistan hunting down terrorists showed up, and that Ben scared her shitless. The thought of telling Ben that she wanted to see someone else actually made her blood run cold. She wouldn’t tell him—she couldn’t tell him. She would find a way to break things off, and he would never have to know.
Yeah, right. Because that would work.
* * *
At the end of her shift Miriam cashed out, said goodbye to Larry, and went upstairs to change. What should she wear to a family party? She’d never been to one before. It wasn’t a one-on-one date, so nothing too sexy, but she wanted to leave a good impression.
Eventually, she decided on an arabesque-patterned maxi-dress, not too low-cut, but still clingy in all the right places. She was finishing her makeup when Jack knocked on the door. She went out to meet him, thinking as she locked the door that a dress might be tough to manage on a motorcycle.
“You look amazing,” Jack remarked. “Like, totally stunning. It’s gonna make this whole keeping-my-hands-to-myself thing even harder.”
Miriam ducked her head, unused to compliments. “Thanks,” she said, “you look great, too.” He did look hot in a pair of khakis and a tight black sweater that hugged his muscular torso, the sleeves pushed up just beneath his elbows, his hair tousled in its usual brown tangle. Ben never told her she looked nice. His way of complimenting her was slapping her ass or squeezing her tits. Not exactly the same thing.
Miriam was contemplating suggesting she should change when she realized his bike wasn’t in the parking lot. “Where’s your bike?”
“Oh, I thought an actual car might be more appropriate. I figured you might do your hair or whatever, and a bike would mess it all up, right?”
Considerate, too? He needed to stop being so amazing. He followed her down the stairs to an older but well-cared-for black Jeep Wrangler with oversized tires. He opened the door for her and lifted her up. His hand was warm and dry, and he left it in hers for a moment longer than strictly necessary. Not that she minded.
Jack’s parents’ house was a modest two-story Colonial not far from Jack’s apartment. When they pulled up to the curb, there were already several cars lining the street, and Miriam could hear voices laughing and talking from the backyard. She was more nervous than she’d ever been, if such a thing was possible. Jack took her by the hand, twining his fingers in hers. She squeezed his hand, realizing that she was more than just nervous…she was outright terrified. This was more than a family party—she was meeting his parents. Oh, god. What had she gotten herself into? She’d been on one date with Jack, maybe two. Why was she here?
She stopped and pulled back. “Wait, Jack…I don’t know about this….”
He halted with her. “What? Are you nervous or something? Don’t be. It’s just a party.”
“I don’t know. This is, like, your family. Your parents. I don’t know if I’m ready for this.” She wasn’t even really his girlfriend. She had a “boyfriend,” for god’s sake.
Jack seemed to understand her trepidation. “Look, you’re my friend, okay? There’s more than that, sure, but that’s between us. My brothers and sisters bring friends to these parties all the time. It’s no big deal, okay? Just relax.” Miriam nodded, a little reassured, but not completely.
Jack pushed open the front door and led her in. Inside was a madhouse. There were, as Jack had promised, dozens of people, all of them with drinks in their hands, milling and chatting. Not letting go of Miriam’s hand, he led her through the crowd, most of whom greeted him with a hug and a slap on the back.
She leaned in close to his ear, asking, “Who are all these people? Is this all your family?”
“Most of them are family—cousins, uncles, and aunts—an
d some friends as well. We’re a big family. This isn’t even half of us. You should see this place during the holidays!” Miriam tried to imagine double the amount of people, and she just couldn’t. Holidays, when she was growing up, were quiet affairs, to say the least. Jack led her outside to the backyard, going straight through the house, past the kitchen and living room, both of which were packed as well. He sat her down on a rocking swing on the back porch and disappeared. Miriam was rigid, hands folded on her lap, back straight, breath coming in short, shallow, scared heaves. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, and there seemed to be many conversations going on between people—some from across the yard. Everyone was drinking, but no one seemed to be drunk, just loose and genial. An elderly man tottered up to Miriam and sat down next to her, sipping whiskey and Coke from a red plastic cup.
“Hello there, girlie,” he said in a thick Irish accent. “I saw Jackie sit you down here, and thought ya might need some company, hey? I’m Séan, Jackie’s grandfather. He treatin’ you well, then, my boy Jackie?”
“Hi, yeah, I’m a friend of Jack’s. I’m Miriam.”
“Miriam, you say? Why, ain’t that a pretty name, then.” Séan leaned in close and peered at Miriam with bright blue eyes set deep in a tanned, wrinkled face. He seemed to be searching Miriam’s face for something, exactly as Jack had done before, not looking at her so much as looking into her. He nodded.
“Aye, you’ll do, then,” he said, cryptically.
“I’ll…do?” Miriam had no idea what to make of his words.
“Oh, aye. You’ll do.” Séan tapped the side of his nose; a gesture Miriam didn’t quite know how to interpret. “You’re Jackie’s friend, you say, but old Séan, I know better. No need to hide the truth from me, no, ma’am. He’s a good boy, my Jack. He’ll take good care of you. Just promise me one thing, will you?”
Jack and Djinn Page 6
