Glass of the windows on the floor above had long since been broken, the floorboards of the apartment sticking up at odd angles. Lifting her body, resting on the empty sill, she shifted, ready to repeat the motions once again.
Alistair peeked his head out of the window, looking up for her. “What are you doing?”
“Come on, it’s up here.”
“There’s no ladder?”
“Scared?” she taunted, smirking from the ledge.
Shaking his head, he shadowed her motions, not only pulling himself up to her, but reaching above, bypassing her with his strength.
“Hey! This is my surprise!”
“I won’t look then,” he smiled. “Up to the top, I assume?”
“Yup,” she commented, reaching for the tenth story window. By the time she pulled herself up to it, he was on the roof, leaning over, holding out his hand for her.
She took it, allowing him to help her to the top. As her feet found the rooftop, he pulled her into his chest. His head bent forward, his lips pressing against hers gently as his arms circled her waist. Jayla wasn’t sure she’d ever felt as safe as she did in his embrace.
Her hands found his neck, tightening as they kissed. When she pulled back, he groaned. The sounds this man makes. They sent a jolt straight to her center.
“Come on,” she urged, catching her breath. Taking his hand once again, she brought him to the center of the roof, where she had previously set up a blanket and pillows.
Since discovering the space, she’d been up here often, watching the stars before going to bed. She plopped down, sitting cross-legged and patted the blanket beside her. The building was taller than most of those around them, giving them a mostly unobstructed view of the city on all sides.
Facing east, they watched the sun creep over the horizon.
“So … this is where you live?” he asked, his arm snaking around her waist, pulling her into him.
Tucking her head against his shoulder, she sighed. “Yeah. It’s not much, but it’s got a great view.”
They sat quietly for a few minutes before she turned to face him. “Thank you, by the way, for bringing me home.”
“Thank you, for letting me,” he responded, smiling.
“As if I had a choice,” she teased, rolling her eyes.
Pulling her in again, nuzzling against her hair, he breathed her in. “That’s just it, Princess. It’s always your choice.”
Pulling back, she cocked a brow, remembering the conversation in the alley differently. “So, if I continued to say no, you would have let me just get in a cab?”
“You wanted me to take you home.”
“And you know this how?”
“I read you, Jayla. I pay attention. Like now, for example.” He brushed a strand behind her ear and continued. “You’re comfortable, yet guarded. You trust me — as much as you allow yourself to. Bringing me here, inside your apartment, scared the shit out of you, but you would have felt like a coward if you didn’t.”
Her lips parted as she shifted back at the blunt truth to his statements. “You can read me? Just like that?”
He scoffed. “Trust me, you’re not the easiest to read.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve just had a lot of practice.”
She rolled her eyes. “Let me guess … your subs?”
“You say that word like it’s a bad thing.”
“I haven’t decided yet if it is or not.”
Placing his hands behind him, leaning back, he challenged her. “Yes, you have. Just like you’ve decided I’ve had any subs at all.”
“Haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Ah. So … maybe I can read people too, then.”
He smiled at her petulance. “Read me. Right now.”
She nodded, exaggeratedly looking him up and down. As much as she wanted to tease him, she wanted more to see if her gut was right.
“You’re confident, not cocky, although some think you are. You’re mischievous … and you probably got away with a lot when younger because of that smile of yours — which you still use against people.” Pausing, she bent her knees, resting her arms and head against them. “You’re protective … and loyal, and you expect it from others. You’ve never been in love. You don’t trust enough, even though you crave trust from others. And you’re very…”
She waited, deliberately not finishing the thought.
As predicted, he urged her on. “Very…?”
“Punctual.”
The confusion on his face — priceless. “Punctual?”
“Yes. Except when you make a promise to a certain someone, about … oh, I don’t know … watching a performance, and then don’t show up.”
Seriousness crossed his features. “Jayla, listen to me. I watched the entire thing. Your solo and both group numbers. That first night and every night, I watch you. From the control room.”
“But I needed you to be there, in person. I needed to see you,” she said, finally allowing herself to move past her anger. And to admit to herself the vulnerability she felt that night when he wasn’t there.
Running his hand through his hair, a tell she now recognized as something he did when uncomfortable, he seemed to debate what to say. “Fair enough. The truth is, I was angry. When I left you that night, when Peter called for me, it was to tell me about your fake documents. I couldn’t understand why you would lie to me. To all of us.”
Turning, Jayla looked toward the sun. She sat quietly, debating internally if the time had come to tell him. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage and told him what he wanted to know.
“My ex beat me.”
She figured he realized it after her flashback, but saying the words out loud — it made it all real.
He didn’t say anything, just sat, pressing back on his hands and waiting for her to continue.
Swallowing, she licked her suddenly dry lips, and started at the beginning.
“I met Jeffrey through my father. They worked at the same accounting company. I was just barely sixteen, he was twenty-two. I immediately had a crush.
Shaking her head, she remembered the day she had gone to visit her father at work. Jeffrey was just out of college, and the epitome of handsome. His tanned skin was complimented by his jet-black hair and dark eyes. He had a goatee and dark brows, and looked, for all intents and purposes, like the “bad boy” every girl dreams about. She just had no idea how “bad” it would get.
“He flirted with me while my dad went for coffee at the shop downstairs. Begged for my number but told me to keep it a secret — not to let my dad know. I thought he was being romantic. I can’t believe how naïve I was.
“He was my first real boyfriend. I was completely infatuated, thought he could do no wrong. And he was older — so I blindly listened to everything he told me, believing it to be the truth. It didn’t take long for him to get what he was after.”
Jayla paused and glanced up at Alistair. “Sure you want to hear the rest?”
“Only if you want to tell me.”
Jayla let the memory of her first time with Jeffrey flood her mind. “When I told him I was a virgin, you should have seen the smile on his face. It should have been a huge red flag, but he told me how beautiful I was, how lucky he had been to find me. Before I knew it, we were both naked and he had his fingers inside me. I remember thinking it wasn’t right, I tried to tell him to stop, but he made me come and I thought nothing that felt that good could possibly be wrong. It had to be love, right? I think he even told me he loved me before he fucked me.” She scoffed. “He wasn’t gentle.”
She heard Alistair exhale, but she didn’t dare to look at him again.
“We dated behind my father’s back. He convinced me my father hated him, was jealous of him, wanted his job — Jeffrey was the supervisor — and I believed him.” Tears welled in her eyes. Looking back, it was easy to see how easily he had isolated her from friends and family. He even convinced her to turn her back on her father, something she
would never forgive herself for.
“I moved in with him at seventeen, right when I finished high school. He told me he wanted to take care of me, to be a ‘real’ family. He wanted me to stay home, raise our kids. I wasn’t allowed to go to work, I couldn’t go to school. I lost all my friends.
“I’d lived with him for almost two years, isolated, but sort of happy, before the first time he hit me. We had just gotten back from dinner — he was drunk. I didn’t want to sleep with him that night, and he slapped me across the face, telling me it was ‘my duty’. I slept in the other room that night with the door locked. The next morning, I woke to breakfast and roses.” She sneered, “He even cried when he apologized.”
She could still remember the look on his face. The tears in his eyes. She knew now, it was all an act.
“It got worse.” She absentmindedly rubbed her left arm, the tattoo covering her scarring. “He burned me, cut me, hit me. Humiliated me.” Alistair’s gaze followed, no doubt realizing what was under the ink.
When his eyes met hers again, they spoke of disgust, anger, and concern, but, thankfully, not pity. It was the look in his eyes that allowed her to admit something she never told anyone else — not even the counselors at the shelter, or her therapists.
“I was pregnant … twice. He, uh … he decided after … after we were together for a while he didn’t want kids. He refused to use, or let me use, any type of birth control, so when it happened he…” She shook her head. “I tried to hide it from him the second time, but he found out and … I just, I try not to think about those two times.” She didn’t say anything else, knowing Alistair would deduce what happened to her unborn children. She’d always wanted to be a mother, having lost hers so young she couldn’t remember her. She had one picture, of her parents holding her at the hospital, in her apartment — the only physical memory of her real life she carried with her.
Taking a deep breath, she trudged on, not wanting to break down. “Five years ago, I ran away. I didn’t think I’d be able to, but he … he…” She took another deep breath.
“That day, I logged into his computer hoping to find my father’s email or phone number to try and reconnect with him. Jeffrey had lied, telling me my father relocated for business. When he got home, he had realized what I was trying to do and he dragged me to the kitchen by my hair, threw me against the wall, punched me. When he pulled out the knife…”
She had to clear her throat, her voice having grown hoarse at the memory. “He stabbed me through the stomach, telling me if I didn’t need him anymore, he didn’t need me.” She paused, saying more to herself than to Alistair, “He tried to kill me.”
“He left me for dead, to bleed out in the kitchen of our house. Luckily, before he had gotten home, I had found my father’s number. I called, and he took me to someone he knew outside the system. What I didn’t realize then, until my father told me the truth, was the ‘accounting firm’ was really a cover. My father was an accountant, at least. He’d been working for the government for years, helping with various projects. Jeffrey however, wasn’t part of the ‘company’. He’s a CIA operative with top-level clearance. He was assigned to the location, working with my father regarding a top-secret project. Jeffrey’s specialty is IT. He’s a freaking paranoid computer genius and had some kind of silent alarm with keystroke tracking software on his computer that alerted him anytime anyone other than him logged on.” She shook her head sadly. “Anyway, with his ability to find pretty much anyone, anywhere, we couldn’t chance going to a hospital. Jeffrey would have come looking for me.
“Dad wanted me to stay with him, but I knew it would be the first place Jeffrey would look when he realized I hadn’t died. My dad offered to protect me, to help press charges, but I couldn’t risk anything happening to him, too. Jeffrey had always threatened I wasn’t the only person he could … hurt. I couldn’t risk it. If anything happened to him…” Her voice trailed off, unable to even fathom what Jeffrey may do to her loved ones, just to get to her.
“Dad used his connections to help me get forged documents, create a new identity and gave me money. I’ve been on my own ever since, running from state to state, trying to stay hidden. Jeffrey’s not the kind of guy to just forgive and forget. I have no doubt that he’s going to find me one of these days.”
Her story finally out, she took a deep breath. “I really like it here, though. It feels right, for once. I love my friends, my job.” She looked over at him, briefly and smiled. “You’re kinda okay, too.” Turning back to the morning sky, she added, “I don’t want to leave again. Not this time. I’m tired of running. I’m so tired of being afraid.”
The tears she’d been holding back finally fell. The warmth against her cheek welcome in the cool morning air. Alistair moved behind her, his legs wrapped around her hips. He pulled her against his chest, his arms finding their way around her knees, holding her tightly while she cried.
“I’ll keep you safe, Jayla,” he spoke, against her ear, when the tears finally subsided. “I promise.”
Nodding, she believed him.
Alistair walked down the stairs of her building, out the front door, revving the engine of his bike as he took off.
Just moments ago, he had tucked Jayla into bed, waiting until she had fallen asleep before showing himself out. His heart raced recalling her words, adrenaline and anger coursing through his veins.
Turning on the helmet’s blue tooth, he called Peter. After a few rings, Pete’s groggy voice uttered a sleepy, “Hello?”
“You awake?” Alistair asked over the growl of the engine.
“I fucking am now.”
“Get a pen. I need you to find someone.”
“Ack, hold on,” Pete grumbled, yawning into the phone. After a few seconds, he responded. “Okay, go ahead.”
“CIA agent in La Jolla, California. IT department. First name Jeffrey. Thirty years old. He’ll have a top-secret clearance.”
“Last name?”
“Dunno.”
“Dude, you want me to find a CIA agent named Jeffrey? That could take months.”
“Do it in less. ASAP. Weeks is even too long.”
Clearing his throat, voice now clear of sleep, Pete asked, “You gonna tell me what this is all about?”
“Just do it.”
“‘Just do it?’ You want me to find a guy, no last name, top secret clearance, in the tech field of our government. I need a little more than ‘just do it’.”
“Can’t. Just trust me. I need you to find where he is, his IP address, any movement you can get. I also need to know if he is searching for anyone, and if so, what information he has.”
A horn blared as he cut off a taxi.
The image of Jayla being beaten by some cocksucker … of being stabbed? It was almost more than he could bear.
“Alistair. Think about what you’re asking me to do. You want me to pwn this dude, who, based on the limited info you gave, would likely know about it immediately and come after me, and not tell me anything?”
Alistair groaned. Peter was right — this was risky. It wasn’t his story to tell, but he threw Peter a bone. “Let’s just say one of the girls is in trouble. Serious trouble if this guy finds her. I need to be sure we’re on top of it.”
“‘One of the girls’,” he repeated, clicking his tongue. “Does it happen to be the same one with a ‘borrowed’ social, and government level fakes?”
“Peter,” Alistair warned, not wanting to get into it.
“This is fucked, Al. Her docs are top-notch. No one is finding her.”
“You found her, didn’t you?” Alistair roared into his helmet, dodging a man on a pedal bike turning into the same lane as him. “Fucking hell!” he yelled at the guy, his aggression spiking.
Sighing, Peter relented, somewhat. “I’m seeing Tink later today. I’ll talk to her and see what she thinks — if it’s even possible. I’ll let you know tonight.”
Now. “Today.”
“Al, I’m lucky
if the girl gets up before three. I’ll let you know as soon as I can, all right? Now, fuck off. I’m going back to bed.”
Revving the engine again, Alistair turned onto the Merritt Parkway. It was the exact type of road he needed — long, straight, generally empty — and far away from home, where he feared he’d begin to do his own type of search for her ex if he returned. Opening the throttle, he leaned into the wind. He needed a few hours on the road to clear the dark thoughts from his mind.
Otherwise, someone would get hurt.
Chapter Nineteen
Tossing and turning in her sheets, Jayla gave up on returning to sleep and sat up. As she tried to urge her exhausted body out of bed, she found herself doing everything possible not to think about Alistair. Not about his cocky, slanted grin. Not about his tall, warm body with rippling muscles — ones he held her with not more than a few hours ago. And she was definitely not thinking about the fact she gave in, sharing the most erotic kiss — hell, the most erotic moment — she’d ever experienced in her life, with someone she barely knew. The same someone whose idea of fun included whips and chains.
I am. So. Fucked.
Groaning, she threw off the comforter, and headed to the bathroom for a shower. Having pulled many an all-nighter in her life, a shower and hot chocolate would be the first steps toward making it through the day and her late-night shift.
Turning the heat as high as possible, which for the dingy apartment was barely lukewarm, she stepped under the water. The stream beat against her sensitive nipples, provoking them to strained points. Just for a moment, the bite of pain at her sensitivity coursed through her, jolting her below. The image of Alistair, tying her to a bed with rope around her wrists, biting her peaked nipple, sent a rush through her.
Stepping back, she tried to shake the fleeting thought. Stop thinking about him.
A shaky breath later, stepping back in the water, it flowed over her breasts and down across her stomach and thighs, warming her skin. Goosebumps rose on her skin when she recalled the strength of his hands around her wrists as he’d tethered her to the bike. She’d not felt trapped, even for a moment. He had pinned her down, but she could have broken free at any moment.
Finders Keepers (Fairy Tales After Dark Book 2) Page 13
