by Amy Gamet
He was close enough now to touch her and he reached out, the tendrils of her hair whipping his fingers. He let his hand drop. “Jessa.”
She spun around and a look of pure horror came over her face. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?” She took a step back.
“I saw the morgue scandal on the news.”
“What are you talking about?”
A group of teenagers walked by them, talking loudly, and Jax waited for them to pass. “Can we go inside?” he asked.
“No.” She crossed her arms. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Jax moved in close to her. “I’m the same person you’ve known for years, no matter what happened between us in that hotel room. So don’t go acting like you’re afraid of me, or I’m some big terrible person you can’t stand.”
“I don’t want you here.”
“I got that. But you’re in trouble, and I came anyway.” They’d attracted the attention of several people on the beach. “Now let’s go inside. We need to talk.”
“We can talk here.”
He narrowed his eyes. “The things we need to talk about are better said indoors.”
She stared at him for a moment and he could tell she wanted to say no, but instead she walked past him and picked up a blanket and book, then led the way back to her cottage.
He walked behind her, watching her round bottom sway from side-to-side within her white dress. The fabric was nearly see-through, and he could just make out her white underwear beneath it. Hard to believe the last time they’d seen each other, he’d been deep inside of her there.
She unlocked the door and he followed her into a tiny living room decorated in bright, bold colors and Mexican tile. She moved into the small but open kitchen, leaned against the counter, and crossed her arms. “What do you want?”
He followed her into the kitchen. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”
“You’re the one who’s being difficult. Just say what you came here to say.”
He took in the shadows under her eyes, the paleness of her skin. She didn’t look well, though he still had the same reaction to her nearness he’d had two months before. “The police busted the identity theft ring where you got your fake ID.”
“And?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You know your cousin worked in the morgue?”
She shrugged. “Sure. His parole officer got him the job last year.”
“He was stealing the identities of unclaimed bodies, then burying the people as Jane or John Does.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“I can see Ricky left that part out.”
“Of course he did. I never would have knowingly participated in something like that.”
“But if Maria Elena wasn’t a real person, that would have been okay?”
She sucked her cheeks in. “Why are you here?”
He closed the distance between them. “It wouldn’t have been okay with you. I know you better than that. You did it because you were desperate. What I don’t understand is why.”
“You don’t know me at all.” She ducked around him. “Get the hell out of here.”
“What happened, Jessa?”
She turned on him. “What does it take to get away from you?”
“To get away from me?”
“I don’t want you in my life. I don’t want you to call me or follow me or contact me or look me up a year or five years down the road just to say hello.”
“You got the message I left you in Savannah.”
“Of course I got it, but I didn’t want to talk to you. Yet here you are, chasing me across a dozen states despite that.”
“It doesn’t make sense.” He followed her across the room. “Tell me why you would do such a stupid, crazy, illegal thing.”
“You don’t get to demand an explanation from me. We are nothing to each other. Nothing! Just because I got lonely and slept with you doesn’t mean you matter to me. You are a mean-spirited, pompous asshole with no use for other people. Linda adored you, and even she couldn’t stand to be around you for long. You couldn’t truly care about a woman if your life depended on it.”
The warmth he’d felt shining from her when they’d made love had defrosted some of the bitterness from his heart, but listening to her now made every fiber freeze solid. He’d been pining over a lost opportunity for love, but it was clear to him now she hated him.
Maybe she always had.
Then why the hell did she sleep with me?
She stormed past him, opening a door and taking a step inside. He could see it was a bedroom, and she was about to slam the door to separate them.
But she froze, standing unmoving for several seconds before she fell sideways in a dead faint.
9
Jax held the ice pack to Jessa’s temple where she’d hit the corner molding when she fell, and tried to rouse her. He’d picked her up and brought her to the bed, and she hadn’t even blinked.
That wasn’t good.
Minutes passed before Jessa groaned and opened her eyes, immediately trying to sit up.
“Lie down,” Jax said. “You took quite a fall.”
She shook him off. “I don’t want to lie down.” Her eyes went around the bedroom and her face crumpled.
“What is it, Jessa?”
She raised her hand to point at the floor. “Those things were in my nightstand when I left for the beach this morning.”
He looked at the collection of books, glasses, medicine, and tissues spread over the floor. “Just now? You mean someone was in here?”
She nodded. “It’s the third time this week. The first was the worst. Drawers lying on the floor. Boxes emptied onto beds and tables. The first time, I thought it was just a burglary. Then I figured someone must have a key, so yesterday I changed the locks. Now I don’t know what to think. Maybe they’re looking for the person who used to live here.”
Jax surveyed the room and was struck more by the lack of certain things than the inclusion of others.
There was no crib. There were no toys. This was the home of a woman who lived alone.
“There is no baby, is there?”
She swung her legs off the side of the bed. “You should go now.”
“What happened?”
She turned on him. “What do you think happened, Jax? You’re not stupid, so put two and two together and figure this one out.”
She’d miscarried the baby.
All this time he’d told himself at least she had the child, some piece of Ralph to keep near her, when in fact she’d had nothing.
He remembered how happy she’d been about the baby, she and Ralph both. They were so clearly in love, their newly created family the perfect icing on the cake.
He’d been jealous at the time, his own marriage going up in flames just before they announced they were expecting. Not that he missed Linda. More that he missed the woman he wanted Linda to be.
He wanted her to be more like Jessa.
Seeing her now, with her pain so clearly etched on her features, he recognized her loneliness like he reluctantly acknowledged his own. Difference being, he deserved to be unhappy. Jessa did not.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, wishing he could wrap her in his arms and comfort her. Had she even had anyone there to do that at the time?
Her bottom lip trembled, then her mouth formed a hard line. “Please, Jax. Just leave.”
“I can’t do that.”
“This is my house. It’s my life. You don’t get to stay here just because you want to.”
“Because I want to? Someone broke into your house, not once but three times, most recently not an hour ago. What if they come back while you’re sleeping, while you’re alone?” He shook his head. “I’m staying.”
“Where will you sleep? There’s only one bed and you can’t sleep with me.” She lowered her brow.
Was that why she didn’t want him here? “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
; “There is no sofa.”
“Then I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“This is ridiculous. I can take care of myself.”
“You passed out when you saw they’d been here, Jessa. I’m not leaving you alone like this.”
Not this time.
I won’t let you suffer alone again.
She closed her eyes. “Fine. Just for tonight, but after that you need to leave.”
He nodded. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
10
Jessa wiped the fog off the washroom mirror and looked at her naked body. Her breasts were noticeably bigger, their peaks darker and seemingly larger as well. She ran her hands around them, checking their firmness and weight. Could Jax see the differences that were so obvious to her eyes?
Her hands moved lower, caressing the skin over her lower abdomen that had begun to stretch over her growing belly. She was nearing the end of her first trimester, and naked like this, she was surely beginning to show.
It’s nothing my clothes won’t hide.
As long as Jax didn’t see her naked, she had nothing to worry about, and there was no chance in hell of that happening.
She pulled her panties up over her legs and settled them in place. She was so aware of herself as a woman while he was here, and she didn’t like the feeling one bit. She’d been happy at the beach, at least until the first break-in. Content to live quietly in the cute little house and let her baby grow, but Jax’s arrival had changed all that.
She slipped her thin nightgown over her head and walked into the bedroom then climbed into bed and pulled up her covers. He had no right to be here. He shouldn’t have been able to find her at all, yet here he was, refusing to leave and insisting on protecting her.
Her eyes closed as she settled into the mattress. The slightest noise at the window had her sitting upright, her heart racing. It was nothing, she was sure.
Okay, if she was being completely honest, she felt far better with him being here than she had without, especially given today’s break-in. Jax had determined the burglar had entered through the bedroom window right at the foot of the bed, and though the window was locked now and the curtains pulled, she knew full well she’d never get to sleep without him in the house tonight.
What about after tonight?
God, she couldn’t stomach the idea of moving again. She’d been so tired lately, to boot, and moving one more time seemed like more than she could handle. But what other choice did she have? Stay here, where someone was determined to break into her cottage every chance they got, or let Jax stay on as her live-in bodyguard?
Over my dead body.
A knock at her bedroom door had her heart pounding. “Yes?”
He poked his head in the door. “I’m going outside to look around.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Get some sleep.”
She was certainly tired, but she wondered if she would in fact be able to rest, partly because of whoever tried to break in and partly because of her bodyguard. He disrupted her entire world with his presence, not only because of the threat he posed to her child but because of the threat he posed to her inflamed emotions.
Everything made her cry these days. She was cranky and needy and desperate for company. She was a nurse, but Maria Elena held no such certification, so even her passion for her work had to be sacrificed in this game. She’d been working at the local library, a job that didn’t lend itself to conversation.
Now that Jax had found her, she could go back to being herself, back to caring for people as she loved to do. That was some consolation, at least.
It will be great. You can work on the weekends when Jax has custody of the baby.
The urge to cry came quickly and wouldn’t be denied. Curling onto her side, she let the tears come. She’d worked so hard to escape him, gone to such lengths and extremes, yet here he was. If she couldn’t convince him to leave her alone, she had only to wait for the day he discovered the truth and laid claim to the baby he’d unknowingly created.
And when that day came, only one thing was certain. Jax was going to hate her, and would become an inescapable part of her life from that moment forward.
11
Jax stepped into the cold night air, his Glock at his side and his night-vision monocular in his hand. The surf crashed in the distance, the scent of the air salty and sharp. He used his monocular to survey his surroundings. The path to the beach was deserted.
He moved to the side of the house, taking in the balconies of the condo complex and a hundred feet of vegetated sand dunes between Jessa’s house and the complex. The other side of her property was open to a neighbor, with nowhere to hide, so clearly it was the dune side of the structure he had to be concerned with.
He made his way to the dunes, his mind lost in thought as he walked. He hadn’t anticipated the depth of Jessa’s dislike toward him. Her words rang out in his memory.
You are a mean-spirited, pompous asshole with no use for other people.
Hell, he could have said as much about himself, but hearing it out of her mouth was something else entirely. Because he did have a use for her. He had a whole host of uses just waiting to be explored, and it wasn’t just about sex. Damn it, he liked her — and he didn’t like anybody.
Still, he’d protect her. He’d stay here as long as he needed to, to make sure she was safe. He’d left Hawk in charge of HERO Force, and they didn’t need everyone on the mission they were doing this week. Besides, sleeping on the floor would be good for him. Help to get the message through his thick damn skull that Jessa didn’t want anything to do with him.
Jessa.
Why had she taken on a new identity? Maybe she was in trouble. Money trouble, or…something. But he just couldn’t imagine what trouble Jessa could get into.
A hundred feet from the dunes, movement caught his eye. The grass was moving as if someone was crawling through it, and the hair on Jax’s arms stood up on end as he continued to walk and raised his monocular to his eye once more. There in the brush was a man crawling away on his stomach.
Jax reached for his Glock as he began to run toward the figure. The other man stood and ran, too, a large shape at his side. Jax was gaining on him, but the man made it to a parking lot and an SUV, speeding away just as Jax got to him.
“Son of a bitch!” yelled Jax. He doubled back to the dune and the brush area where the man had been, quickly locating his hideout by the flattened foliage behind a large swath of tall grass. He dropped into a squat to examine the area with a flashlight. A pattern of distinctive and familiar markings was left in the sand.
The tripod of a sniper’s rifle. He turned and looked back at her house, the kitchen window shining brightly in the night.
Whoever was watching Jessa’s house was looking for something and was willing to kill in order to find it.
He couldn’t let that happen.
Jesus.
What had she gotten herself into?
Some kind of trouble, that was for damn sure, and she wasn’t talking. It was time for him to find some answers, with or without her cooperation.
Back at the bungalow, he closed all the drapes and locked both doors, then turned his attention to Jessa’s belongings. He went through every drawer, cupboard, and box she had in the kitchen and living room, as well as a hallway closet.
What could they possibly be looking for?
In one box he found scrapbooks of her wedding and life with Ralph. Her diplomas. A small desk in the corner held mail and bills, and he scrupulously checked for anything amiss financially but found nothing. If anything, Ralph had left her enough money that she shouldn’t have any issues at all.
One envelope caught his attention, with the return address of a lawyer’s office.
I write to inform you of certain assets bequeathed to you pursuant to Mr. Hopewell’s Last Will and Testament, to wit: a first edition copy of The Manor by John Boronkay.
So Jessa had inherited a book that
was meant for Maria Elena.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jessa exclaimed.
He twisted around and saw her standing in a white fuzzy bathrobe, indignation clearly etched on her features. “Trying to figure out what’s going on, since you aren’t going to tell me.”
“You have no right to go through my things!”
He stood up and faced her. “I need all the information so I can figure out who’s after you and what they want. If you don’t like that, you can try being honest with me.”
She huffed.
“That’s what I thought,” he said. “Where’s the book you inherited from” — he looked back at the lawyer’s letter — “Harold Hopewell?”
She looked around the room, selecting the old-looking volume and handing it to him. “Here. I was reading it at the beach today.”
“When did you get this letter?”
“Two weeks ago. Why?”
“And when was the first break-in?”
“Ten days ago. Do you think they’re related?”
“Can you think of any reason someone would be interested in something of yours?”
“No. None.”
He held the book in his hands, twisting it back and forth in the light. “Then this might have something to do with it. What’s it about?”
“A wealthy family in New England.”
“Maybe Harold Hopewell was in love with Maria Elena Cortez.”
“Maybe, but with a name like Harold I think he might be older.” She sat down. “It still makes me sick to know she was a real person, and I stole a proper burial from her. I should have realized when the book arrived. I just figured they had me mistaken for somebody else.”
Jax dialed his phone. “Logan, I need you to pull everything you can find on one Harold Hopewell.”
Jessa pulled at his arm. “No. I don’t want you to do this.”
“He died a few weeks ago, his lawyer’s in Boston, firm by the name of Layton, Felder, Bach & Moore.”
“Stop it,” said Jessa. “I don’t want HERO Force involved.”
