22
Jess
A Warning
Iwake up to a cold blade at my throat and a large hand yanking my hair back. Sweat slides along my skin and panic almost chokes me as my nightmares once again become reality. “It’s just me! Please don’t hurt me.”
“Fuck!” He pulls the blade away and stomps through the dark. Sitting up, I watch Kane’s shadow move to the front door, bend low, and slam his pots and pans together to reset thelocks.
I didn’t set them yet, since I knew he’d be back.
Instead, I slept in this shitty place with nothing more for security than the dude in 4A and old man Murphey sort of watching the door.
“You ever sneak into a man’s apartment again, Blondie, you ever sneak into his bed in the dark, you’ll die. Fuck!” He spins back and pins me with midnight black eyes. “I swear to God, I didn’t know if they already got you. Or if you were someone else laid up in my bed. I didn’t know if you were already dead and staged to make a point. Scared the fuckin’ hell out of me!”
“Why would I be dead?” I fluff the single pillow behind my back and push messy hair out of my tired eyes. I haven’t exactly kept a regular sleeping schedule since I met this man. When his hand slaps the wall and the lights come on, I slam my palms over my eyes to block out the blinding pain. “Agh! It’s the middle of the damn night. Turn those off!”
Striding across the small apartment in dark jeans and heavy combat boots, he tosses my covers back and carelessly exposes my underwear. “Are you okay?” With rough hands, he rolls me over, then rolls me back. “Did anybody hurt you since this morning?”
“No!” I slap his hands away. “Stop rolling me around. I’m not a friggin doll.”
“Did anybody approach you today? Anybody that I might know?”
“No, but listen–”
Pulling me back up to sit, he grabs my face and squeezes. “My boss threatened you today, Jess. He knows I know you. He thinks we’re more than we are. We’re not together, but it doesn’t matter, because he sees you on my radar, and now you’ve become a pawn in his game.”
“I… what?”
“You need to get up. Get dressed. Get the fuck out and don’t come back.”
Don’t come back?
“No. Stop.” I slap his hands away a second time when he pulls me out of his bed. “You need to stop, Kane. Stop pushing me around. I’m trying to tell you something.”
“And I’m trying to tell you, you need to pack your shit up and get the fuck outta my apartment.” Storming away when I’m on my feet, he finds my yoga pants on the end of the bed, then my top. Picking them up and balling them between his hands, he tosses them at my face. “Get dressed. Go. You have five minutes, then on your way out, scream at me. Say mean shit. People are watching, so give them a show.”
“People are watching?” My suspicious eyes flip to the single window, then the fire sprinklers in the ceiling. “Watching us?”
“Not in here.” He stomps to where my sneakers sit right beside his. Picking them up, he sits them on the far corner of his bed – the corner with the bullet hole I so generously put there. “If they were watching in here, they’d know you’re just a danger fucking magnet. They’d know we’re not actually together. They only see you in the street and when you come to the fuckin’ club. Next time you get it in your stupid brain to come there, I won’t save you, just to prove to him you’re not important.”
“I’m not important?” In a matter of days, I’ve grown attached to the murderous criminal, so his callous words hurt me more than I expected they would. “I’m not important to you?”
“You’re important as fuck, Jessica Ann. That’s the problem; heknowsit. Hayes knows it. Flynn knows it. Which makes you a big fuckin’ target. You need to get out, make some noise about it, then bitch about me to everyone you can. Word needs to get back to Hayes that you don’t mean shit to me. I can’t do my work if I’m worried about you.”
“You can’t do your work no matter what.” I slap him away when he tugs the top from my hands and tries to plop it over my head. “The cops know about your job this weekend.” I may as well just hand my degree back now. And my Christmas presents. And possibly Alex and Oz’s lives. “They’re going to be there when that shipment comes in. You need to leave.Don’tmake noise about it. Just get out of town and live a good lifenotdead andnotin prison.”
“They know?” Stopping his frantic movements, he turns back with his cell in one hand and that incessant wrinkle in his brow. “They’re moving on our shipment?”
“Yes! So you need to make smarter choices. You literally know it’s coming, so walk away now. Live.”
“I can’t leave, Jess!” He grabs my handbag and digs my things out. My cell. My keys. His file. I carry that damn thing everywhere I go. “I can’t leave. I have to stay, or I’m dead. I have to stay, oryou’redead. But you need to go.” He takes his file out and flips it open. Dark eyes scan the papers while I stand beside his bed in matching underwear and glance over at the gun I left on the bedside table.
Kane takes his Glock everywhere he goes, but he leaves those spares in his drawers. I helped myself to one, sat on his bed for hours, and looked up video tutorials on how to use it.
I’m not a victim anymore. I refuse.
I’m capable, and I’m not sticking around Kane for protection. I’m here because I care. I’m here because my heart beats faster when I think about him.