“We did it,” she whispered.
Jack pulled back just enough to look at her and cupped her face in his hands. “I told you Iʼd do my best to get outta here.”
“Iʼll make sure you donʼt regret it, Turner.” Sara chuckled through the tears as he claimed her mouth.
“You better.”
***
They had driven a little over a mile when a shiny black Hummer came up behind them and passed Saraʼs car so fast and close she had to veer sharply to the side to avoid hitting its side.
“Irresponsible jerk!” she cursed through gritted teeth, sending a sideway glance at Jack. “You all right, hon?”
“Yes,” he muttered absently, his eyes fixed on the Hummer, which now wasnʼt more than a black dot in the distance. “That car―”
“I know. Can you believe that? Heʼs such an ass, he almost hit us!”
“You mean, you know who’s driving it?”
“Of course. Itʼs Max.”
“Max? That car…belongs to Max Lacrod?”
Had Sara not been so focused on slowing down to take the next exit, she would have noticed how the color had suddenly drained from Jackʼs face. But she didn’t.
“Yep. Big and useless, just like him,” she commented, shaking her head in disapproval.
He swallowed hard. “Are you sure it was him?”
“Oh, yeah. Nobody else owns a Hummer like that in Starville. I always wondered why he got such a huge vehicle, anyway, since he canʼt even drive it properly.” She made a disgusted face, but Jack wasnʼt looking anymore.
His head was spinning, and he had to close his eyes for a moment to regain control. Maybe he was losing his mind, but he could have sworn that car was the exact same one he kept seeing in his nightmares, the same one that had chased him through the darkness, forcing him off the road. And Sara said it belonged to Max Lacrod. A million questions started racing through his mind again. Had the sheriff truly caused his accident, as heʼd always suspected? Max had never even bothered to conceal his hostility toward him; but would he go as far as almost killing him? And why?
After taking the turn to her house, Sara slid him another glance. “Honey, are you sure youʼre all right? Sorry I mentioned that idiot to you,” she apologized, clearly misinterpreting the reason for his distress.
“Itʼs okay.” Jack took her hand and raised it to his lips. There would be time to think about everything. But not tonight. Tonight was his and Saraʼs. “Letʼs just go home.”
Chapter 28
Jack jerked up in bed, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. It was just another nightmare. Trying to calm the furious pounding of his heart, he glanced at the clock: barely three a.m. The same time heʼd been waking up every damn night in the last week.
If heʼd had any hopes that the nightmares would stop after he got out of jail, he had lost those hopes a long time ago. Instead of going away, in fact, they were becoming more and more vivid and all too realistic for him to keep thinking of them as simple nightmares.
Too restless to stay in bed, Jack slid out of it, careful not to wake Sara up. Once in the bathroom, he locked the door and stared at his reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to find some answers in the eyes staring back at him.
There was none.
With a weary sigh, he leaned his forehead against the mirror. God, he was tired. Tired of not knowing the truth about himself, tired of feeling so confused all the time, tired of everything. His thoughts kept racing back to the nightmare—or whatever the hell it was―he’d just had. The nasty fight with J.T. by the large, open window. In his mind, he could still see the sad, heartbreaking expression on the older man’s face as he listened to the nasty things Jack was spewing at him. But had that fight actually happened, or was it just a trick of his imagination?
And most important, had he killed J.T. because of it?
***
“Jack? Could you come get me, please?”
His grip tightened around the phone at Saraʼs anxious tone. “Is something wrong? Where are you?”
“I…” She paused, and he heard her take a long breath. “Okay, donʼt freak out. Iʼm at Parkland Hospitalʼs emergency room.”
“What? What happened? Are you all right?”
“Yes, yes, Iʼm fine. Please, just come get me. I-Iʼll explain everything when you get here.”
“Give me the address and Iʼll be there as fast as I can.”
Two hours later, Sara was sitting in her living room, a cup of hot tea in one hand and the other hand resting on her lap, a white bandage wrapped around the wrist. Nicky sat beside her on the couch, Brent in the chair opposite from her. Only Jack stood, pacing nervously.
“Thank you again for coming, guys. I told Jack there was no need to disturb you, but―”
“No need to disturb?” Jack stopped his pacing to scowl at her. “Sara, are you fuckinʼ kidding me?”
Nicky shook her head. “Now, Jack, letʼs not get too agitated.” His burning gaze moved to her and locked with hers until Nicky had to drop her eyes.
“Really. My girlfriend almost gets run down by a damn car and I shouldnʼt get agitated? She could have been killed!”
Brent slanted him a warning look before turning to a very pale Sara. “Why donʼt you tell me what happened, hon?”
“Iʼm not sure.” She tried to take a sip of tea, but her hand was shaking so much she put the cup back down with a sigh. “I went to the Central Library in Dallas to do some research for my new book. I spent a few hours there, and by the time I walked out, it was raining like crazy. My car was parked across the street, and I started toward it, but as I stepped off of the curb, a pickup truck almost ran me down. I leaped back fast enough to avoid impact with it, but I slipped on the wet concrete and sprained my wrist. A nice family drove by afterward, stopped to help me, and insisted on calling the ambulance for me. Thatʼs it.”
“Thatʼs it,” Jack scoffed, but everyone ignored him.
“Did you see who was driving the truck? A man, a woman? How many people were inside it?” Brent urged as Sara kept shaking her head.
“No, I… It was going too fast.”
“Do you remember what kind of pickup it was?”
Sara shook her head again. “It was raining hard, and I could barely see ahead of me―but I swear it seemed to appear out of nowhere. I mean, of course I looked before I started crossing the street, but one second there was nothing there, the next the truck was speeding toward me. All I know is that it was white.”
Jack groaned. “Great. Thereʼs only a million of those ʼround here.” He raised his arms as Brent shot him another stern look over his shoulder.
“Jack is right, though,” Nicky interjected. “Thereʼs not much to go on.”
“Iʼm sorry, thatʼs all Iʼve got,” Sara apologized in a low voice.
“Itʼs okay, hon, weʼll see what we can do with the little information we have.” Brent patted her leg encouragingly. “Iʼll ask a few questions around the neighborhood. Maybe somebody saw something.”
“Thank you. It could have been just a coincidence, anyway. I mean, I donʼt even know anybody in Dallas, and certainly nobody who would want to hurt me. It was raining so hard, Iʼm sure the driver didnʼt see me any more than I saw the truck coming.”
“Iʼm sure youʼre right.” Brent turned to Jack, who had resumed his nervous pacing and looked ready to explode. “Turner, would you put on some coffee, please? Iʼve had a long shift and could really use some right now.”
Jack hesitated, glared at him, but took the hint. “Fine.”
In the kitchen, he took a few long breaths. Brent was right; he needed to get a grip. His own agitation was only making Sara more nervous. Yet all kinds of awful thoughts kept racing through his mind as he absently scooped the coffee from the canister into the pot. His hand was shaking so much it was a shock that he didnʼt spill any. How the hell was he supposed to keep his cool? Coincidence or no coincidence, Sara could have been killed today. He cou
ld have lost her, and there was not a damn thing he could have done about it.
But you didnʼt lose her, he reminded himself, trying to calm down. Sara was fine. She was in the living room, sipping tea. Safe.
***
Sitting down at one of the booths by the window, Jack looked suspiciously around The Cove. Heʼd purposely chosen that table because it would give him a good view of everyone driving by and parking before they entered the diner, but he didnʼt like the crowd inside all that much, either. While Starville had started to warm up to him since he’d been released from jail, he still didnʼt trust anybody. Not when he saw everyone as a potential threat to Saraʼs life. And now that she had left to use the ladiesʼ room, every muscle of his body was on alert.
“Dude, relax, will you? Nothingʼs gonna happen here.”
Jack tore his gaze from the door and shifted it uncomfortably to Brent. “I still donʼt know what the hell weʼre doing here. We shouldʼve stayed at home.”
“Sara needed the distraction, Jack. And, honestly, youʼre driving her crazy with your attitude.”
“I know, I know,” he admitted, waving his words away with a hand. “So, what have you got for me?”
“Not much, Iʼm afraid.” Brentʼs gaze darted abound briefly, as if to make sure nobody was listening. “So far, all I know is that Hank, Wayne, Susan, and Bob own white pickup trucks. Oh, and my mom, too. Of course, though, none of them happened to be in Dallas this morning.”
“Dammit.”
“Seriously, Jack, you need to calm down. Saraʼs right, thereʼs no reason to get all worked up about this. It might have simply been an accident.”
“Please. You donʼt even believe that.”
Brent didnʼt answer, though his heavy sigh said everything. “What do you think we should do?”
“How the hell should I know—youʼre the cop. Me, Iʼm just dying to kick everyoneʼs ass,” Jack grunted, scowling at a man who eyed Sara up and down as she walked out of the restroom with Nicky and laughed at something Lucy said to them. Noticing his glare, the man became flustered and raised his arms in apology.
“Have you guys ordered yet?” Sara asked, sliding into the booth next to Jack.
“Yeah. And my food better get here soon. Iʼm starving,” he lied, forcing a casual tone.
Food was the last thing on his mind.
Chapter 29
“Jack, listen to me—”
“I donʼt want to listen! I want you leave me the hell alone!”
“Don’t say that. You don’t really feel this way. Youʼre my son.”
“Iʼm not your damn son, and youʼre not my father! You don’t know anything about me!”
“I know that I love you, Jack. And I know you love me, too.”
…I love you, Jack.
Jack.
Jack.
“Jack. Please, wake up.”
Sara lightly stroked his shoulder, as she usually did when he had a nightmare. She knew the instant Jack started waking up, because his entire body tensed and his breath sucked in. As his eyes fluttered open, he gazed around in confusion before settling them on her.
“It’s okay, hon. You had another nightmare.”
“Goddammit.” He shook his head hard, as if trying to focus, then rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes.
“Are you all right?”
“Iʼm fine.”
“No, youʼre not. Jack, youʼre shaking!” Sara said, exasperated, as he shrugged her hands off. “Honey, why donʼt you tell me about these dreams of yours? Youʼre having them almost every night now, and theyʼre obviously upsetting you. I can try to help—”
Jack stiffened at her words. His eyes burned into hers as their gazes met. “I donʼt need your help.”
“But…”
Throwing his legs to the side, he jumped out of bed. “I need a shower.”
Sara watched him powerlessly as he strode out of the room. Something was clearly tormenting him, but as always, he preferred keeping it all to himself instead of letting it out. God, but it hurt. Seeing him so troubled, knowing there was nothing she could do to help him…because he didnʼt want her help.
Sooner or later, he would reach out to her, though, she tried to encourage herself. Jack wasnʼt as open and impulsive as she was, and she needed to let him take things at his own pace. In the meantime, she was going to have to learn to be patient.
Very patient.
***
Sara was walking into the garage when the sound of a horn resounded across the driveway. With a sigh, she bent over Jack, who was crouched beside his motorcycle. Heʼd been working on it so much in the last few days that not only had the scratches and dents caused by the accident completely disappeared, but heʼd also replaced a few other parts.
“As you can hear, hon, David and Nicky are here,” she said, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “Iʼll see you later, okay?”
Jack nodded absently, his gaze fixed on the bikeʼs muffler. “Have fun.”
“Now, remember, Iʼm not going to be back until after dinner, so donʼt wait for me to eat.”
“ʼKay.”
Sara went back outside, rolling her eyes as the horn honked again. “Has anybody told you that youʼre terribly impatient?” she scolded David, sliding into the backseat of his car.
He grinned. “We have a long day of shopping in front of us. Arenʼt you eager to get it started?”
“Sure. Canʼt you tell how enthusiastic we are?” Nicky made a face from the passengerʼs seat.
“Come on, you two! Enough with the long faces, already, I promise youʼll have the time of your lives.”
“I can handle the shopping, but just so you know, your cheerfulness is irritating as hell,” Sara said, trying to hide the giggle playing at her lips. The truth was, despite her problems with Jack—and heaven knew she was having plenty of those lately―it was impossible not to smile when David was around.
“Now, now,” David continued, “cheer up! Thereʼs nothing a good hairdo and a nice dress canʼt fix, which is why Iʼm taking you to Dallas today. Oh, itʼs going to be so much fun! And Brent is going to swoon when he sees you, youʼll see,” he added, elbowing Nicky.
She didnʼt comment but gave him a doubtful look before turning to Sara.
“Is Jack home, by the way? Brent said he might swing by your house later.”
“Yeah, heʼs home.”
Saraʼs tone must have come across duller than sheʼd hoped, because both Nicky and David turned to slant her a questioning glance. “Something wrong?”
“Nope.”
Nicky huffed. “Please! Sara, youʼre an open book, and itʼs plain obvious that somethingʼs bothering you. Is it Jack?”
She rolled her eyes in resignation. “Yes.”
“Whatʼs wrong?”
“Iʼm not sure. He seems…different.”
“What do you mean, different?”
Sara lifted one shoulder. “I donʼt even know how to describe it, heʼs just…different. Colder.”
“Have you tried talking to him about it?”
She sighed at Davidʼs question. “The problem is, Jack doesnʼt talk. He doesnʼt explain, doesnʼt fight, and refuses to discuss anything―including the horrible nightmares heʼs been having. He just shuts everybody out and thatʼs that,” she admitted. “The truth is, guys, ever since he came home from jail, heʼs been down. Detached. Almost apathetic.”
“Give him some time. Things will get better, youʼll see,” Nicky assured her. “Jail is no walk in the park, and Jack has gone through it twice—and both times wrongfully. That alone would drive anyone crazy, donʼt you think?”
Sara nodded, unconvinced. “Itʼs not just that. I canʼt help but feel that having me around bothers him.”
“What?”
“Iʼm serious, Nic. Take what happened last week, when that truck nearly ran me down. Jack totally flipped out about it―which is understandable, I guess. But since then, things have only been going downhill. We hardly do anything together, anymore
. Itʼs like heʼs almost…annoyed with me.” Another long sigh escaped from her lips. “I donʼt know. I have this feeling that Jack is slipping away from me, and there is not a darn thing I can do about it.” Not to mention that he hasnʼt touched me since the first night he came back from jail. A thought too painful to voice.
David looked out the window, then pulled the car over and turned the engine off.
“Why did you stop?”
Arms folded over the steering wheel, he turned to Sara. “We need to talk more about this.”
“No, no, this is supposed to be a fun day! Weʼre supposed to go shopping.”
Nicky huffed. “Screw the shopping. Davidʼs right, we can do it some other time.”
“Absolutely not! Please, guys, I need this day. Trust me, Jackʼs dark mood and complications can wait.”
David and Nicky exchanged a silent look. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Sara nodded firmly. “Enough with depressing thoughts. Iʼve had enough of those, already.”
***
Jack wiped the grease off his hands with a rag and stood, studying his bike with a critical eye. It might not be as good as new, but it was damn close. He frowned with annoyance as the phone rang and pulled the cordless handset from the back pocket of his jeans.
“Hello?”
“Howʼs your girlfriend, Turner?”
His blood chilled at the sound of the crackly, artificially disguised voice on the other end of the line. “Whoʼs this?” he barely choked out, glancing at the caller ID. Private. Of course.
“A friend.”
“Iʼve got no friends.”
A cold chuckle resounded through the phone. “Now, now, thereʼs no need to be rude. Iʼm only concerned about sweet little Sara. Itʼs a shame what happened to her last week. She really should be more careful when crossing the street, you know? With so many loonies out there, lots of bad things could happen to a nice, trusting girl like her. Take today, for example. Itʼs a good thing her friends are driving with her, or thereʼs no telling―”
Bound to the Past (Starville Series Book 1) Page 32
