***
The second the door of the apartment closed, Jake turned to me. There was fire in his eyes. “You need to tell me what happened with Owen the night I picked you up by his house. I need to know because I’m about to blow his fucking head off as it is, and I don’t need my imagination making me trigger happy right now.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Did that motherfucker touch you?”
“You believe him? He was just trying to get a rise out of you.”
“Did he fucking touch you?”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“I’ve got trust issues like you wouldn’t believe, baby. But this is about more than what I believe or what I don’t. So, for both our sakes right now, just fucking tell me if that motherfucker touched you.”
“Yes,” I answered quietly. I sat on the floor next to the couch and rested my head on my knees. Jake paced in front of the TV.
“Did you want him to touch you?”
Did he know me at all by now?
“Why are you asking me this? Why do you care if he touched me? Let me remind you that when I first met you, you were being sucked off in a junkyard,” I spat. “By Alissa.”
“Just answer the goddamned question!” he yelled so loud the sliding glass door shook. I flinched as if his words had landed on my face.
“No,” I whispered. “I didn’t want him to.”
“I fucking knew it!” he roared, drawing the gun from the waistband of his jeans. He headed for the front door.
I threw myself in front of him, blocking his exit. “Do you want to know what happened, or not?”
He put his arms around my head on the door, and pressed his chest up against mine, caging me in. “I know all I need to know.”
“You can’t kill Owen,” I said sternly. “They’ll catch you and put you in jail.”
“Never been caught before.”
“There’s always a first time.”
“This is what I do, Bee.”
“Killing Owen isn’t like whatever it is you do at your...job.” I didn’t know what else to call it.
“No, you’re right. It isn’t. It’s more important. Because it’s about you.”
He still wasn’t getting it. “Listen asshole! I don’t want you to go because I don’t want to lose you!”
It was true. I wanted to care about what happened to Owen, but the honest truth was that as little time as we’d spent together, I’d already gotten used to life with Jake in it. I couldn’t afford to lose him. Not now. “Owen turns up dead on the very night that you knocked him out in front of a ton of people, and everyone will know it was you.”
I wasn’t sure he was listening, until he repeated my words. “You don’t want to lose me.” He softened his stance over me, his hands coming down to rest on my shoulders.
“No,” I sighed. “I don’t.”
“Bee...” He squinted his eyes together and pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose. “Did he rape you?” His breath was short and shallow.
“No.”
“How do I know you’re not just saying that so I don’t go after him?”
“Did you see his hand?”
“Yeah, it’s in a sling.”
“I did that. I slammed his hand in his own door when I ran out.” I sounded proud of myself.
I was proud of myself.
“You did that to him?” Jake sounded impressed.
“Yes,” I confirmed. “Owen didn’t rape me. He just got touchy-feely while I was sleeping. I put a quick end to it, though.”
“Baby, I hate that he touched you, that he thought his privileged ass was good enough to get to lay hands on you.” He paused and rubbed his knuckles down the side of my face. “I don’t want anyone to touch you but me.” Jake smelled like the beach and leather. His breath was cool as it came in heavy quick bursts. “I’m not good enough to touch you either, but that’s not enough to make me stop.”
My own breathing quickened.
“Just you, Jake.”
“Why didn’t you tell me then? That night?”
“What was I supposed to tell you? I was embarrassed, I was tired. I didn’t know who to trust or what to do.” I held his gaze.
Jake pulled me from the door and sat me on the couch. He laid his gun on the coffee table, making sure to keep it pointed away from us. “I didn’t just find you by accident that night.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was looking for you. I just needed to see you. I didn’t like the feeling I got when I saw you with Owen. I barely knew you, but I had this overwhelming feeling that I wanted to help you. I wanted you to need me.” He shifted me to face him, our chests pressed up against one another. “Originally I was just going to make sure you were safe—even if it was with Owen. Then, I saw you walking down that road and I was just so happy to see you. When I saw the bruise on your jaw, I told myself it was from an accident. I wanted to concentrate on you and not killing the person who hurt you.” He sighed deeply. “I’m so glad he didn’t.”
“No, he didn’t, but I feel kind of guilty, anyway.”