Sweaters would be perfect and it was wintertime, though the temperature never got that cold stretching from southeast Texas to well on the other side of Houston. And sweaters were bulky enough that she wouldn’t have to worry with a bra.
She winced because she’d forgotten all about shoes, and shoes were expensive. But maybe she could find some for a decent price at the Goodwill store or the Salvation Army when she went to look for the other items needed to complete her disguise.
And then another thought caused her to cringe. As Isaac had so patiently explained to her, it wasn’t realistic for her to simply disregard ideas that had been part of her life since before she could remember. Only in time would she be able to see how the real world worked and allow herself to play by society’s rules and not the twisted, disgusting teachings the elders impressed upon young, impressionable people. In time, and by time he didn’t mean an immediate turnaround. He’d said it could take weeks, months or even longer to recondition herself and be able to admit not only to herself but to others that the people who’d imprisoned her had shoved lie after lie down her throat.
Shaking off that worry and the guilt over the next part of her plan, she knew she needed to either buy makeup and experiment with it or go to a professional and learn how to use it to alter her facial features.
She’d always worn her hair down, not by choice, but by dictate of the elders, and now she was dying to put it up in the number of ways she’d seen other women wear their hair. She thought it looked pretty. Carefree even. As if they didn’t give a single care as to what others thought of them and wore their hair however they were most comfortable. What Jenna wouldn’t do to have that kind of confidence and assertiveness.
As she went over the list in her head again to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything, her chest fell and foolish tears burned the edges of her eyes for even allowing herself the dream of being normal, of not having dangerous, maniacal people after her who would stop at nothing, even killing anyone who tried to help her. It was an impossible dream and she wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand, furious that she was sitting here feeling sorry for herself when she should be working on a way to get out of here now.
She had no money and when the idea hit her, her stomach revolted and she shook her head against her knees. It was obvious that Eliza’s husband had plenty of money. For that matter, none of Isaac’s men or even Isaac himself seemed hard up for money in the least. Would they even miss a few hundred dollars? She would take only enough to make the needed changes to her appearance and then she could begin looking for a job. But that thought only dug the knife deeper and heightened her despair.
She had no birth certificate. No ID. No idea exactly how old she was. No clue what her last name was and no job experience, save being a veritable slave to megalomaniacs, and she hardly thought that kind of experience on an application would get her very far.
Besides, she didn’t want the kind of job that would only remind her of past shame and humiliation. Beggars shouldn’t be choosers. She knew that well. She recognized on one level that she should be grateful for any job given to her, but every single part of her rebelled at ever being treated like she was so much less than everyone else. Like she was nothing.
She closed her eyes and began to rock harder, her tears soaking the knees of her jeans. Then she frowned, recalling a distant memory. It was a few years back, one of the few times she’d been able to sneak into one of the elders’ offices undetected. She’d studied the layout and schematics of the compound, her best route of escape, but then she’d seen a recent newspaper and unable to contain her curiosity, she’d quietly and carefully thumbed through the pages, stopping on an article about more and more businesses opting to pay employees under the counter without requiring references, ID, work experience or even age. Who in their right mind would consider hiring her without knowing anything about her even if the pay was under the table?
Still, the idea was too tempting. It would be a dream come true. She could work until she had enough money saved up and then she could leave town and go anywhere in the country she wanted and start over where no one knew who she was or what she could do. She would simply be another nameless, faceless person in the crowd. The excitement that washed over her couldn’t be controlled or called back no matter how hard she tried. It was stupid to get her hopes up only to have them dashed, but she had to try. She wasn’t a quitter. If she had been, she would have done what the elders had wanted her to do years ago.
FOURTEEN
ISAAC had been so caught up in planning strategy and plotting their next move that he hadn’t checked on Jenna in the last half hour. As soon as the realization struck him he turned around frantically, seeking her out. But when he saw her huddled against the wall on the far side of the room, her legs drawn to her chest in a protective posture, his pulse sped up. And when he saw the betraying quiver of her shoulders, he cursed long and loud under his breath.
Her face was buried against her knees, her hair providing an effective barrier so her facial expressions were completely shielded, but he didn’t need to see her to know she was weeping silently, doing her best to hide her distress from the others. In that moment, she looked so alone and fragile, his heart ached and he vowed to alleviate the pain in any way possible. She was hurting, but so was he, because he couldn’t bear for this beautiful, selfless woman to suffer so much pain. It made him feel helpless and inept, two emotions he was not accustomed to experiencing in his line of work.
But she wasn’t work and she wasn’t a goddamn job. She was fucking everything.
“We’re done here,” Isaac said sharply, his gaze never leaving Jenna’s defeated posture, hating with every breath that she was silently crying and trying not to be a burden—a fucking burden! When in such a short time, she’d become his entire world.
When his teammates followed the direction of his stare, there was a mixture of softening and hardening of their expressions. None of them were happy that while they had been deciding their next move, Jenna had been ignored, sitting alone, frightened and vulnerable.
He strode over to her and simply bent and slipped his arms around her and lifted her, ignoring her startled gasp. He tucked her damp face into his neck so she would be saved the discomfort of the others’ concerned scrutiny.
“Shhh, baby,” he murmured as he carried her toward the bedroom. “Just let me take care of you. I don’t want you to worry about anything. You never have to be afraid or uncertain when you’re in my arms,” he said in a whispered vow.