“I'm so cold,” I tell him. “So cold and so tired. I really thought I was going to die out there.”
“Good thing you ran right into my arms,” he says. “If something had happened to you out there, I don't think I could bear it. And here I was thinking you stood me up and you've been going through hell and back.”
I tremble, my shoulders shake. I'm full-on sobbing.
Now, I'm not the kind of girl who cries like this, ever. I'm strong. I'm resilient. I'm tough as nails. I’ve had to be – I’ve been holding it all together, on my own, all my life.
But with him? I'm a baby.
He holds me as I cry. When I finish, he wipes my tears away.
“You're safe now,” he tells me, “but I've got to call the police and report him. I've already been talking to the sheriff, Luke. He's a buddy of mine.”
My brows furrow. I reach for the collar of his flannel shirt. I don't want him to move away from me, not even an inch. I want this man next to me now – forever – the whole night long at least.
He makes me feel safe and warm and protected. And after the day I've had, those are the only kinds of emotions I want.
“Why were you talking to the police?”
He must realize how very vulnerable I feel in this moment. I met Jacob in a grocery store while he was buying a cart full of cheese. I know literally nothing about him. And here I am cradled in his arms, like a newborn baby, when the truth is he could be just as psychotic as the last man who had me in his cabin.
I'm terrified, but only for a split second because Jacob's eyes widen. He shakes his head. “Oh, baby,” he says, “no, nothing like that. I called the cops after I went to the Icicle Inn. I've been worried sick. I didn't know where you were. No one at the front desk had seen you all day. You didn't come to dinner. I called the cops because I wanted someone to go out looking for you. My buddy, Luke, he had a patrol car head out to look around town. I couldn’t have you getting lost in these woods. Course, I had no idea how serious it was.”
That gets a hint of a smile out of me, which is saying something considering everything I've been through. “Hey,” he says, “it's going to be okay. You're okay.”
Now I look over at the gun he set down at the coffee table. “You would have killed him for me?” I ask.
He nods. “I still will if you want me to.”
“Who are you, Jacob Whitaker?”
He grins. “I'm your mountain man. Maybe I could be the hero of your next novel.”
I groan. “You found out what I do, then? Why the name Juniper Jones was familiar?”
He shrugs. “I figured it out.”
“Does that change anything?”
He shakes his head. He runs his hand over my shoulders, taking the coat off me, wrapping a warm blanket around me instead. “You need a warm shower,” he says, “you need to get cleaned up. You look like hell, June.”
I laugh. “Well, that doesn't make me feel very good.”
“I'm just trying to be honest. You've been through hell. Let me call the cops first – they're going to want to talk to you.” I nod as he dials the number of his friend.
He explains what's happened, and I appreciate how well he communicates things. I like that in a man. He can express things clearly and with conviction. The officer on the phone, Luke, asks me if there's anything I'd like to add.
“I don't know where he put the keys to the chastity belt he put on me.”
At this, Jacob's eyes widen. Of course he has no idea what I'm talking about. Luke doesn't make a comment.
“I don't know what the man is up to, but he was really obsessed with me. He was like a superfan, and he seems really dangerous. He knew where to find me. He might've been watching me for a while.”
“If you're safe at Jacob's cabin, then we're going to be there in a few hours for a statement,” Luke says. “In the meantime, I'm going to have my guys go and get Thomas. He's not well. He hasn't been, but he has never done something we could charge him with. I got my other guys out on Highway 43, dealing with a moose and a truck. It's not looking pretty. Can you hold tight there for a few hours?”
“Yes, that's fine,” I say, thinking that I wouldn't mind having three hours alone in this cabin with Jacob before the cops come here for the statement.
In fact, I could deal with more than three hours alone with him.