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Run from Fear

Page 13

by Jami Alden


  She heard Jack’s heavy footsteps behind her as the machine started to bubble and hiss. “That was Danny, right?”

  Jack nodded and reached past her to the cabinet behind her to retrieve a coffee mug. The act brought him within inches of her, close enough for her to catch his scent, all soap and shaving cream layered with the spice of his own skin. “I let him know I won’t be available for any assignments until your situation is resolved.”

  She had to stifle the urge to bury her nose in the hollow of his throat.

  He stepped back and she took a moment to pull herself together. Right. Her situation. That’s what she needed to focus on, not how she was suddenly obsessed with how good Jack Brooks smelled first thing in the morning. “I can’t pay your regular rates,” she began, “but I can do something to offset the loss of income—”

  The look Jack gave her was so frosty she was surprised the coffee didn’t turn to ice crystals in the carafe. “We talked about this last night. Your safety is important to me. I don’t want your fucking money.”

  Talia swallowed nervously. Though he tried to hide it, she could see by the way the muscle throbbed in his jaw that she’d really pissed him off. Still, she was tired of feeling like his charity case. “I know you work on contract, so if you’re not working, you’re not earning income. How are you supposed to pay your bills—”

  “Talia,” he interrupted, “you don’t need to be concerned about my financial situation. I’ve got…” He paused and something flickered across his face.

  “What?” she probed.

  He was silent for several more seconds, as though trying to decide how to put it. “I’ve got a nice buffer saved up.”

  “Must be nice,” Talia muttered, and went to retrieve some cream for her coffee. “But you have to understand why I don’t like feeling obligated to you, financially or otherwise.”

  Jack set his mug down with a thud. “Why can’t you get it through your head? You’re not obligated for something I’m offering up without you even asking. Not everything in life is some kind of transaction.”

  “No one does anything out of the pure goodness of their heart.” Not even you, she thought silently. The memory of his mouth, hot and fierce on hers, flared to life. “People always want something in return.”

  His mouth tightened, and she knew he was thinking about that kiss. It was unfair, yet another cheap shot in the series she couldn’t seem to keep from lobbing at Jack. Maybe if she brought it down to the only level she had known, she wouldn’t experience that uncomfortable thrill every time she thought of it.

  “Fine,” he snapped. “You can pay me a per diem of twenty dollars if that eases your mind.”

  Talia rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t even cover gas money—”

  She snapped her mouth shut when Jack’s eyes went from icy to molten hot in the space of a breath.

  “Don’t. Push. Me.”

  With his jaw clenched tight, the muscles bunching and knotting under his skin, Jack looked like he was on the verge of giving her a shake or… something else.

  She was pretty sure he’d never hurt her, but she wasn’t prepared to deal with whatever “something else” might be. Talia retreated.

  Jack took his cup of coffee to the living room while Talia flipped open her laptop to check her e-mail. Reading the one legitimate message, from Rosie, and scrolling through spam took all of five minutes. She stole a glance at Jack, settled on the couch as he leafed through the paper. For all that he looked relaxed, there was, as always, an energy about him, an alertness, a readiness to jump into action at the slightest provocation.

  Maybe she needed a nice professor or dentist in her life, not a former Special Forces warrior. Someone who didn’t know her past. Someone who didn’t radiate that kind of intensity.

  She could feel it, almost like a buzz in the air. She doubted if he ever let his guard down completely, even when he slept.

  Unbidden, an image of Jack came to her, his harsh features softened with sleep, his big body sprawled across a bed, the sheet in a tangle around his waist, leaving his broad, muscular chest bare. She’d never seen him shirtless. She wondered if his chest was hairy or smooth. She bet he had a six-pack…

  “What?”

  She jumped at the sound of Jack’s voice. Oh, God, how long had he been frowning at her as she stared, slack-jawed, drool practically running down her chin? What was wrong with her? Last night she’d been terrorized by footage of her own attempted rape and murder, and now she was fantasizing about Jack’s naked torso?

  The DVD was the sum parts of all of her damage, all of the reasons she was too broken to be with someone right now. Maybe ever. She couldn’t afford to let herself fantasize that it could be different.

  And more importantly, Jack didn’t deserve to be jerked around by anyone, especially not her.

  She jumped up from her chair. “Did you eat yet?” She opened her refrigerator to survey the contents. “I eat a lot at the restaurant but I have enough here to do an omelet or cereal or something.”

  “I had some toast before you got up,” he replied. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m not here to cramp your style, so just do whatever you would normally do and pretend I’m not here.”

  Right. Because it’s so easy to ignore a drop-dead-gorgeous six-foot-four wall of muscle who had planted himself in her living room. “In that case, my usual routine is to go to Gus’s for a couple hours.”

  “Sounds good.” Jack stood from the couch and stretched, his arms so long they nearly touched the ceiling. Talia made herself a protein shake while Jack changed into workout gear, and within ten minutes they were heading out.

  Normally she would have started with a cardio boxing class, but she didn’t want to subject Jack to a roomful of women in leotards.

  At least that’s what she told herself. Really, it had nothing to do with not wanting to watch dozens of women ogle a prime specimen of man that Talia was incapable of enjoying herself. They focused on drills and sparring, and Talia noticed Jack was careful to keep his distance. No grappling holds or self-defense training today.

  Despite the lingering tension between them and the lingering uneasiness from last night, the physical exertion as always calmed her down, bringing her stress level almost back to normal. And once they settled into a rhythm, trading off the focus pads and giving each other pointers on form, Talia realized it was actually fun working out with Jack. He was so much bigger, so much faster than anyone else she worked with, and she found herself enjoying the challenge.

  Then there was the unexpected feeling of camaraderie as they put each other through their paces and good-naturedly razzed each other. She found herself smiling, even laughing, and Jack was too.

  A warmth coursed through her that had nothing to do with physical exertion. They were having fun, and for a few minutes they were able to forget the unfortunate events that had brought Jack back into her life and could just have a good time together.

  Like buddies.

  Maybe not exactly buddies, she thought, feeling her face heat as she caught Jack staring at her heaving chest about two seconds after he caught her admiring the hard muscles of his butt.

  But the friendly dynamic all but disappeared when it came time to hit the showers. “Absolutely not. I’m not letting you go in there by yourself.”

  Talia glared up at him. There was a steam bath in that locker room with her name on it and she told Jack so. “What, are you afraid someone’s going to come after me with a disposable razor? No way am I going to give up one of the few pleasures I still have in life because some asshole started sending me creepy gifts.”

  Jack leaned closer and Talia forced herself to stand firm. “That asshole could be here right now, just waiting for me to leave you alone.”

  Talia did a quick scan of the room. She recognized several women from her classes and a handful of men, regulars like her. No one who looked like they’d pose much of a threat.

  “You could stand guard at the doo
r—”

  “There are other ways to get in there. There’s no way.” He paused and gave her a speculative look. “Unless you want me to go in there.”

  Though he’d done his best to put his attraction to her back under wraps, there was no missing the heat in his gaze. She swallowed hard, wondering if he was having the same thoughts of hot steam swirling around naked bodies, slick skin over rippling muscles. “Fine. I’ll shower at home.”

  On the way back to her place, they made a quick detour to the Hyatt Executive Suites in Palo Alto to pick up Jack’s stuff. Talia followed him up, her nose wrinkling at the stale air smell of the sterile room. “This is depressing,” she muttered.

  Jack shrugged as he emptied the dresser and closet and packed everything into a generic black wheelie bag. “It’s not so bad. When I’m on assignment, I work a lot of nights, so it’s not like I’m here a lot.” He straightened up and surveyed the room. “But after one of these trips, I’m always happy to get back to my boat.”

  “You have a boat?” She didn’t know why that surprised her.

  His brows quirked in a puzzled frown. “No, I live on one,” he said, his tone implying that she should have somehow known that. “I rent a houseboat out on Lake Union.”

  “I had no idea,” she said. It hit home, once again, how little she really knew about him despite how big a part he’d played in her life.

  He shook his head ruefully. “No, I guess you wouldn’t,” he said, studying her with a funny look on his face. “It’s a nice place, with a second-floor deck that looks right out over the city. I’d like to show you sometime.”

  There was a sudden charge in the tiny efficiency suite as Talia imagined Jack taking her hand to lead her onto his houseboat, taking her up to the deck to enjoy a glass of wine and the view.

  And then…

  It was like a metal door slammed shut in her brain. As it always did when she tried to imagine what came after. She didn’t want to relive it, the humiliation, the pain that went beyond the physical.

  Of course, logically she knew it would be different with Jack, but since she couldn’t remember what different might feel like, she wasn’t even capable of fantasizing about it.

  “I don’t imagine I’ll get back up to Seattle any time soon. Not with Margaret Grayson-Maxwell running around.”

  Jack’s mouth tightened. “She doesn’t have any power over you or Rosie. If you want to come back, I can make it work for you—”

  Talia cut him off. “I appreciate the offer, but I think the wounds are still a little too fresh for me to go back.” She turned and walked to the window that looked out over a side street. “Besides, with Rosie in school here, it’s not like I have anything or anyone to go back to.”

  Jack was silent a few seconds. Finally he said, “No, I don’t guess you do.”

  But when they got back to her house and she was standing under the hot spray of her own shower, she couldn’t stop thinking about what it might be like to visit Jack on his houseboat, for no other reason than they wanted to see each other. No dark past, no memories of what she’d done and what had been done to her.

  A lovely fantasy, she thought as she dressed, put on makeup, and dried her hair. Too bad it was about as likely to happen as Sarah Palin retreating to a quiet life out of the spotlight.

  She trotted down the stairs, wondering how she was going to kill another two hours in close quarters with Jack before it was time to go to work. She whipped around the corner to the kitchen and, distracted, didn’t see the wall of tanned skin and muscle until she was nose to chest with it.

  Talk about a fantasy. She’d been speculating just a few hours ago what Jack might look like without his shirt. Now her mouth went dry as she was mere inches away from the reality, a reality that was leaps and bounds better than anything she could have imagined.

  He was as muscular as she imagined, the muscles of his chest and abs chiseled from granite as they bunched and shifted. There was not an ounce of fat visible under a layer of tanned, tight skin.

  And Jack was no waxed-up metrosexual either, what with his chest dusted with a light coat of dark hair that narrowed into a silky-looking stripe that bisected his belly and disappeared beneath the waistband of the pants that hung from his narrow hips. Her fingers tingled, itching to trace that happy trail to see if it was as soft as it looked, to feel that tanned, smooth skin.

  He wasn’t without flaw, though. Scars of varying size and shape scattered his torso. Up under his right shoulder was a pucker of flesh that looked like it might have been a bullet wound. Those perfect abs were marred by a neat white line about six inches long where it looked like he might have had surgery. The left side of his rib cage was peppered with pale spots, which, as she looked closer, were scars left by small divots in his skin.

  “Those are from when an IED went off next to me. The shrapnel sprayed me all up and down my left side.” He twisted so she could see the path the divots made up his side and the back of his shoulder, all the way up to his neck until they disappeared beneath his thick, dark hair. As she looked down, the white flecks dipped beneath his waistband. “Tore up my leg pretty good. Looked like hamburger from my hip to right above my knee.”

  Her hand reached out, and before she could stop herself, her fingers were tracing the white flecks dotting his rib cage. As her fingers made contact, Jack flinched.

  Talia jerked her hand away and choked out an apology. “They don’t still hurt, do they?” she asked stupidly.

  “No. Just look a little nasty.”

  On the contrary, she wanted to tell him, the scars actually made him even hotter, if that was possible, the evidence of the wounds he’d survived adding another layer of credibility to his air of toughness, his attitude that said he could take on the world and come out the victor.

  Mortified at having been caught staring dumbly for the second time in one day, Talia had to pry her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “I see a lot worse every time I get naked in front of a mirror.”

  Heat flared in his eyes, letting her know in no uncertain terms that her scars wouldn’t be a deterrent if he ever got her naked.

  But the scars on the inside were the ones she feared she’d never overcome.

  He couldn’t get to her.

  Gene’s hands shook as they curled around the steering wheel. His car had been parked across the street for hours now. He’d followed her all day, starting at the boxing gym. He wasn’t going to grab her in broad daylight—he wasn’t that stupid—but he wanted to see her nonetheless.

  And her fucking gorilla hadn’t left her side. Even when she went to use the bathroom, he wouldn’t allow her to go to the locker room but made her use the single unisex bathroom whose entrance he guarded like a Roman centurion.

  Gene had been forced to take a break for several hours in the middle of the day to go to the lab where he was working on his research to support his dissertation. There were also papers to grade for the undergrad classes he taught.

  And, of course, there were office hours with Rosario Vega, an appointment he wouldn’t have missed if someone held a gun to his head. She was so young, so sweet, so… fresh.

  The way she looked at him with stars in her eyes and gushed about how smart he was. He didn’t kid himself that she was actually attracted to him. He’d seen her around with that loser she dated.

  You are a loser. You are nothing.

  Yes, she had the hots for a fucking leech who treated her like garbage. It was her only flaw, but he couldn’t fault her. How could she not know better than to cheapen herself after she was raised by that whore of a sister?

  But the way she looked at him, with unadulterated admiration for his superior brain, it was like a breath of fresh air. She was even coming to appreciate his sense of humor. They were becoming not just teacher and student, but friends.

  Which would make it that much easier to use Rosie to get to her sister.

  And he would need all the help he could get.

  Perhaps he had
gone too far in sending her the DVD. He’d expected her to be scared. But he hadn’t foreseen the hiring of a full-time bodyguard, a huge brick wall of a man who accompanied her everywhere—the gym, work, and now home. Gene had been watching the house for hours and the gorilla showed no signs of leaving.

  No matter how ready he was, he couldn’t get to her to-night. The knowledge made him feel like a thousand spiders were crawling over his skin. The gorilla was smart, highly trained, and hypervigilant. There was no easy way past him.

  Anything worth having was worth waiting for, he reminded himself.

  In the meantime, he’d released Number 4 just this morning. The police should be aware of her soon, if they weren’t already.

  He wondered if the police would find her unconscious form before the drugs wore off like the other girls, or if she’d come to in the open space preserve where he’d dumped her. He’d given her a little extra—she was a fighter and he didn’t want her waking up and alerting anyone until he was long gone.

  He started the car and pulled away from the curb across from Talia’s house. There was nothing more to be done with Talia tonight.

  He thought of Number 4, struggling under him as blood ran down her back and sides. Felt the surge build up inside him as he envisioned the perfection of the cuts.

  He couldn’t have Talia, but he could have another.

  He would take advantage of this opportunity to run through the process one last time. To fine-tune every step so everything went exactly the way he wanted.

  Chapter 10

  Though the situation wasn’t exactly comfortable, by the morning of the third day, Jack and Talia had settled into something of a routine. Jack, always an early riser, was usually up at least an hour before Talia regardless of how late they stayed up after Talia got off work.

  He spent the time catching up on e-mails and phone calls to Danny, who was also a crack-of-dawn riser. Even though Jack wasn’t on so-called active duty right now, he could add some value in strategizing how to approach certain clients’ unique needs.

 

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