by M. Malone
JJ’s hand clenched, crumpling the paper she was holding. “That’s so familiar. Everything becomes your fault. Until finally, you’re afraid of your own shadow and can barely look anyone in the eye.”
“Yes. That’s it exactly.” Alison smiled at her sadly. “Sounds like you understand all too well.”
That jarred JJ out of her languid state. She’d been so caught up in Alison’s descriptions of the program and all the great things they were doing that she’d forgotten where she was and who she was talking to. It was alarming that she could forget so easily. Especially when she’d spent years burying that part of her life so deep that no one could ever find out.
“Well, I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through. But I want to help however I can.” JJ stood and held out her hand, hoping that would signal that the meeting was over without being rude.
Alison shook her hand with a knowing look. “I’ll be in touch about the dates for the makeup seminars. Also, we’ll send a volunteer over to pick up the clothes Adriana agreed to donate next week.”
JJ hoped she was nodding in the right places and saying the right things. Her head spun a little as a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. No, she did not have time for this nonsense. She refused to get a migraine right now.
But as her panic increased, so did the throbbing behind her eyes. Oh, God no, not right now, she thought. Migraines loved to sneak up on her whenever possible, but she didn’t have her medication with her. She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. It was all this stress with no outlet. Of course it was building up. Stress was a huge migraine trigger for her and always had been.
She hated it. Hated the weakness of it and how it rendered her completely vulnerable. For years, she’d taken increasingly stronger medication, hoping to find something that could cure her, but it turned out her migraines were something that had to be managed. By avoiding stress, eating well, exercising, and avoiding triggers.
JJ sighed in relief as Alison finally walked out. She rubbed at her temples with the pads of her fingers. That was it. Looked like she’d be spending the night under the covers trying not to move. As she gathered her things to leave, the phone on her desk rang again. When she picked it up and heard nothing but silence, JJ wondered how she was supposed to manage her stress when the world around her was determined to throw her past in her face?
chapter 7
Fuck, Jonas was exhausted. After the last several days with Lindsey Myers, he was ready to get back to New York. But the work they were doing was important. And he was glad to see Lindsey settled in.
At first he hadn’t wanted to come down to Atlanta to get her set up. The client was great, a sweet woman. But he internalized too much of this shit, especially when there were kids involved. He remembered people trying to help his mother. But truth be told, this little trip was a good excuse to get the hell away from New York. To get the hell away from JJ. His mind was still rattling with everything that had happened right before he left. Go on, say it. You fucked up by kissing her.
And yes, he’d kissed her back because his temper was up. And his curiosity had flared. And because she was driving him fucking insane. But still, he knew better. He knew that was a line that he couldn’t uncross. But he’d gone ahead and crossed it anyway. What the hell was wrong with him? He shook his head to clear it and dragged his attention back to the matter at hand.
He turned to Lindsey with a smile. “Okay, so let’s go over the panel one more time.”
She grinned at him. “I swear you’re hovering over me like a mother hen. I have the code. It’s the reverse of Henry’s birthday and my birthday. I won’t forget those dates.”
“I know. But humor me. It’ll help to know that you know exactly what to do.”
Though she rolled her eyes, she went straight to the panel hidden behind the painting, moved the painting aside, plugged in the code and a star. The star meant all was safe. If she plugged in the code and hit pound, that was an alert to the security company that even though she was punching in the code, she was doing it under duress. And when the company called, they would know that any response she made was again under duress; they would send the police with a quiet presence, no sirens, no lights. Jonas would rather not think about what would happen in that scenario. Because that scenario would mean that her ex-husband had found her and their son Henry. It would mean that he had failed her.
Noah and Dylan had tracked the guy down, and lo and behold, he’d had drugs on him, which was a violation of his parole. So it was back to prison for the fidiot. But the jackhole had friends. Too many low-life friends.
Which is why Noah and the crew had to work to get her as far away from him as possible. She’d left without any money and just the clothes on her back. Noah had a slush fund for such occasions, as well as safe houses in several cities across the country. Blake Security had rented her the house for next to nothing and she could stay as long as she wanted. The only caveat was that if they had someone they needed to hide in a hurry, she put them up in the spare room until they could move whoever it was safely.
They’d also gotten her a job. A decent-paying one that would allow her to afford to send Henry to a good school. All this so she would be safe.
He nodded his approval. “Good. I’m glad you remember.”
“I told you I would. Now, do you want me to get your last slice of pie before you have to head back to New York?”
“I think you already know the answer to that.” He followed her into the kitchen. He liked her. And he hoped she would be able to stay safe. Unlike the last woman he’d tried to help.
Jonas made it to the airport and caught the last flight back from Atlanta, crammed into one of those tiny airline seats. He headed back to his apartment around seven o’clock, and the last thing he wanted to do was ever leave again. All he wanted was to grab a shower and crash. But his damn phone rang the moment he stepped foot into his place.
He scowled at it hoping that it wasn’t Noah. He simply did not have the energy for some team emergency at the moment. The name on the caller ID however, was unexpected. And he answered immediately. “Mira, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m so sorry to call so late. But do you think that maybe we can meet for a moment? Back at the coffee shop?”
He didn’t even think. All he did was walk faster to deposit his weekender bag on his bed and change out his jacket for something that would conceal his holster. “I’m on my way.”
Ten minutes later, he found her at the exact same table where they’d sat the last time. When she looked up, she gave him a weak smile, and he went to join her. “Mira, I was worried. Are you okay?”
“I’m so sorry I worried you. I’m fine. Honestly.”
When he just stared down at her, inspecting her for any outward bruising, she shifted uncomfortably. “Honestly. Can you please have a seat? I wanted to say something.”
Jonas slid into the seat next to her. “Well, you look okay. He hasn’t hurt you has he?”
She didn’t even look surprised that he knew about her being back with her ex. But color did tint her cheeks. “I think you were right.”
Jonas’s brows snapped down. “I would rather not be right about all the things I’m thinking. Elaborate. Has he hurt you again?”
She shook her head. But her hands shook. “No. Not yet. But,” she hesitated for a moment, “I can see it. The anger in him, the rage. There are flashes of it, and at the end of the day I’m still living the exact same way I was. Afraid. Afraid to do anything, afraid to talk, afraid to move, afraid to not have dinner on the table. He tells me that I don’t need to do that. That the anger management worked or whatever, but I don’t believe him. And so I’m afraid.”
He nodded sagely. “You want Noah and I to clear him out? We’ll grab the guys and swing on by to make sure he stays far away from you.”
She shook her head. “I can do this on my own. “
“No one can do this on their own. “ He lick
ed his lips and wondered if he should tell her how he ended up here. Sitting across from a woman like her, one that so desperately needed help but refused to take it. And then the words were spilling out before he could even stop them. “My mother. She was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. You know when they say people have a light that shines through them? She was one of those people.”
Mira frowned, as if not quite certain why Jonas was telling her the story. But she stayed quiet.
“My father, on the other hand … Pure asshole through and through. Believed that he walked on water and everyone else should bow before him. And boy oh boy, did he have a shitty temper. It didn’t even take much to set him off. A good morning not said the right way, and you’d get a quick knock across your head. He used to pick her up and haul her to the floor for not having dinner ready. You can probably imagine.”
Mira nodded. “Oh, too well.”
“And then there’s me. He wanted me to be the best. To brag to everyone about how I was the best. And God help me if I didn’t perform. He would take it out on my mother. Never me. I would beg for him to take it out on me. But always her. And she stayed. It didn’t matter how many times I begged her to go; she stayed. Eventually he killed her. I don’t want something like that to happen to you, Mira.”
Her eyes filled with tears. And she blinked them rapidly away. “I don’t want that to be me either. I thought he’d changed. I thought the anger management was working. But I think I’m still the same person. I’ve still been conditioned to be afraid of him. And he’s still the same person. He tries to control his anger, but he’s not very good at it. And I think I’m going to bear the brunt of that soon enough if I’m not careful.”
“What do you need? Do you need a place to stay? We have safe houses all over the city. New Jersey, Philly. We can get you relocated. If you need money, we have a slush fund for these things. Hell, I was just making good use of it in Atlanta today. Let us help you. I don’t want you going back to that house. Because he will tell you all about how he’s changed and how he’ll never do it again, and I’m terrified for you.”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t need any of that stuff. You and your team did plenty for me, and I didn’t listen. I didn’t take any of that advice. But I’m taking it now. My bag is in the car. I applied for a job months ago when I was first leaving him. And I interviewed, but I didn’t hear back so I didn’t think anything of it. But they called today, and I knew if I told him I wanted to take the job it was not going to end well. And maybe I’m not the same person, but I couldn’t stand the idea of him beating me over something I was so excited and happy about. I knew I had to go. I just wanted to say thank you and good-bye before I left. I’m going to use the drive down to reflect on my life and what I really want from it. “
Some of the weight that pressed down on his chest the moment he’d met Mira Ashton eased up. “You don’t have to say thank you.”
“Yes, I do. I know I owe you my life. And you don’t have to worry about me. I still have the papers the British guy on your team made me for my new identity. I don’t have any family anyway. So I get to vanish. I just wanted you to know. And then to ask you to say thank you to Noah and the rest of your team.”
He nodded his acceptance and they both stood. But before she could turn and walk away, he grabbed her hand gently. “I mean it. Mira. You need anything, anything at all, call us. You know the number by heart. We will help you. It doesn’t matter what it is.”
Jonas could only stand back and watch as she left, and he prayed that this time, this time, he was actually able to save one of them.
JJ balanced the phone to her ear even as she held two cups of coffee, had a shoulder bag containing several samples on her arm, and teetered on four-inch heels. Adriana had sent her out for a samples run, and of course, she stopped to get herself a reward coffee.
After a week of working with the Hope Springs charity, her nerves were frayed. And her heart was broken. In so many ways, she'd come a million miles from where she'd been. She was no longer that young girl who was too scared to say anything, too concerned about what everyone would think, so worried about her life and those around her. But in other ways, she was still in the exact same spot. She wore her outer shell of bravado every morning like a set of clothes. It was her Teflon suit.
Nothing fazed her; nothing bothered her. She was a poor facsimile of the person she wanted to be. The person she knew she wasn't. So every morning when she woke up, she knew she was telling everyone a lie. Worse yet, she needed the suit. She needed it to survive on a daily basis. Working with Hope Springs just reminded her of who she'd been, of who she was, deep down inside. If that wasn't good enough to fray the nerves on a daily basis, then she didn't know what was.
And certainly, caffeine isn't going to help.
Yeah, maybe not, but coffee was one of life's little heaven-sent pleasures. So she was going to have her coffee. And then she was going to stick her nose back to the grindstone and just power through this whole thing. She wanted to help these women. She wanted to get them to freedom. She wanted to get them safe and away from harm.
The problem was there was an inherent part of her that wanted to scream, “You will not be safe. No matter what you do, you will carry the fear with you the rest of your life.” But since this was supposed to be uplifting, she didn't think that was the best course of action.
The springtime breeze with the blare of taxicabs’ horns all around her made her almost able to forget. With the flow of pedestrian traffic going mostly against her, she could practically get lost in the sea of faces. She made a right turn at the corner to head back toward her office and stopped short. Across the street in Longwinds boutique, clear as day, she saw a familiar face.
Her heart rate sped up and her breathing hitched. No. It can't be him. She’d already convinced herself she’d hallucinated his car at the curb the other day. Her feet were rooted to the concrete as she stared for a long moment. Passersby jostled her backwards and forwards as they hurried past her on the way to wherever they were going.
But still she stared. No, this couldn't be happening. This was not her life. She didn't want this; she didn't need this. She was done with this part of her life wasn't she?
You'll never be done.
Oh, fuck that. She wasn't going to stand here. She didn't want to be afraid anymore. She had to be sure.
JJ darted out into the traffic between the taxicabs and horns blaring at her. But she didn't care. It's not like they were going anywhere anyway. The traffic was at a near standstill. Her heels made a clip-clop sound as she skipped over the pavement and straight to the boutique.
By the time she made it across the street, past the white wood and glass doors, she didn't see anyone. There were a couple of shoppers and one saleswoman helping someone out. What the hell? No, she hadn't imagined that. She'd seen him. He'd been here.
Or is your mind playing tricks on you? You're being forced to examine who you are. Who you've been. And the person who made you that way.
No, no, no. He couldn't be here. She hadn't seen him in so many years. Seven now? It couldn't be. She headed back for the dressing rooms, shoving aside every single curtain. Luckily there was no one back there.
Stacking her two coffees one on top of the other, she opened the staff only doors and peered in. There was no one there. How could she have made that mistake?
"Hey, you can't be back here."
The sales girl had come around to see what she was up to. "I'm so sorry. I was looking for someone. I saw him in the mirror that you have out there. Tall, 6'3” - 6'4”. Dark hair."
The sales girl shook her head. "I'm sorry. There was no one who fits that description back here."
JJ shook her head. "No. I saw him. It was him. Are you sure? I’m not crazy. It was him."
The sales girl’s brows lifted, and she backed away a step. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. If you don't, I will call the police."
&n
bsp; The police. She would welcome them coming. Except, what are you going to tell them? I saw my psycho ex. The one I never filed charges against or got a restraining order against. That ex. He was in the store. I need him found.
No. Likely all they would do was arrest her for trespassing or something. "I'm sorry. I'll go. Are you sure—?"
The sales girl shook her head. "There is no one here except my customers."
JJ nodded. Shit. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. It was understandable, considering everything she'd been dealing with over the last week. She was seeing ghosts where there weren't any. Coffees back in hand, she stepped back out of the boutique just as her phone rang.
Again she stacked the cups while she hunted the phone out of her pocket. "Hello?"
"You always did look good in red."
JJ whirled around, searching for any familiar faces in the crowd. On the turn though, her heel caught, and her coffees tipped, fell over, and splashed everywhere. Pedestrians jumped out of the way of the scalding hot dark liquid. But JJ didn't care. She'd find him. "How'd you get my number?"
"I've always had your number." The low rumbling laugh on the phone was cold and icy. All too familiar. After all these years. He'd found her.
chapter 8
He knew the moment he heard her voice that something was wrong.
Jonas had just finished a session of lifting weights and grabbed a shower. He’d had a shitty morning and early afternoon. He figured that if he could get some gym time in, at least he’d have done something productive that day. If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t have even answered the phone. But as soon as JJ’s picture flashed on the screen, he dropped the weights he was putting away right where he stood.
