“Yes, you can and you will. I won’t sleep until I know it’s done.”
Is he becoming a bit complacent? All the signs suggest it. Bashing down my door, meeting for lunch, telling me to text him when he’s going to be in bed. I know he’s made a decision, but he still needs to tread carefully, as well as think about how and when he’s going to do what needs to be done. Cold waves ripple through my bloodstream at the thought.
After kissing my cheek, he wanders down the path. “I’ll text you the address of the restaurant.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.” I push my door closed as best I can, then go in search of my phone to call a locksmith. They can’t specify a time, so once I’ve let Jack know, I’m given little choice but to sit on the couch and wait for them to turn up, when I’m so desperate to fall into bed and shut my mind down. But there’s no hope of that happening. He’s leaving her. You’d think it would be what any woman who’s in love with a married man would want to hear, but given everything I know, I’m full of dread rather than elation.
Dread for Jack.
My Jack.
Chapter 20
I come awake to banging—relentless, panicked banging. Diving up in a daze, I stumble down the hallway to my front door, trying to straighten my sleepy mind while shaking my dead arm awake. It’s full of pins and needles, which results in my hand refusing to grip the handle of the door in order to turn and open it. I mentally encourage my muscles to wake up as the banging continues, my head rattling more with every impatient thump of the door. “Hold on!” I yell, swapping hands and wrenching the door open.
I growl before my sleepy eyes tell me who the culprit is. I soon wake up when a blurry silhouette of a person becomes Jack. He looks a little flustered. “What are you doing?”
“It’s one o’clock,” he grumbles, pushing me inside and following, shutting the door behind him. “You didn’t acknowledge the address of where we were meeting for lunch, and you didn’t fucking turn up.” He points a finger in my face. “I’ve been worried sick!”
I blink a few times, letting everything he’s just shouted at me drip into my brain. “It’s one o’clock?” I blurt in panic, turning and running into my lounge to find my phone. “I was supposed to meet Micky at ten!” I cry, pulling cushions from the couch and throwing them over my shoulder. No phone. I shove my hand down the sides in turn, feeling around.
“Looking for this?” Jack picks up my phone from the TV cabinet and holds it up.
“Yes!” I rush over and snatch it from his hand, finding its battery is dead. “Shit!” I quickly plug it in and wait impatiently for it to switch on. Sounds start ringing, dinging, and singing chaotically when it comes to life. I wince with every separate sound, seeing missed calls and text messages springing onto my screen; not just from Micky, but from Nat and Lizzy, too. I can see Micky in my mind now, dialing them to try and find out where I am. Going through the texts, I see each and every one of my mates have left a message asking where the hell I am and if my lay was up to scratch. I quickly call Micky, worried that he might be on his way over to track me down. “Damn,” I mutter when it goes to voicemail. “It’s me. I slept in.” I laugh like an idiot. “Call me!” Hanging up, I proceed to call Nat, telling her the same excuse, walking away from Jack when she asks, a bit too loudly, if I’m able to walk this morning. I peek at him, and his nostrils flare dangerously. “I’ll call you later,” I say, hanging up. Then I dial Lizzy. She might not be so easy to fob off.
“Where the hell are you?” she answers in greeting.
“Slept in.” I screw my face up, waiting for her scoff of disbelief. In the ten years I’ve known Lizzy, I’ve never slept in. Not this late, anyway. I look at Jack and see him roll his eyes, a sign of his annoyance.
“I’m on my way over to check you’re not dead.”
“No need!” I shoot Jack a pained look, watching as he flops down to the couch. “I’m on my way to my mum and dad’s.”
“Oh. Okay. So how was it? You seeing him again? I like Rugby Player Tom!”
I turn away from Jack and cringe. “I can’t talk right now.”
“Oh my God! Is he still there?” She squeals excitedly. “Call me later! I want every dirty little detail.”
“I will.” I hang up and drop my phone to the couch, exhausted after my mammoth session of bullshit. “I cannot believe I slept in ’til this time.” It shouldn’t be a surprise. The locksmith didn’t turn up until four a.m. and I didn’t get to bed until five.
“Don’t sweat it,” Jack grumbles. “It’s not like you’ve given me a heart attack or anything.”
“What did you think happened to me?” I ask, passing him to go to the kitchen. “There was no risk of the madman who beat my door down returning.”
“He’s here now,” he replies, low and husky and…very close behind me.
I whirl around and collide with his chest. “Oh!” I’m grabbed and hauled up to his lips, and then indulged in a long, passionate hello kiss. “Hmmm,” I sigh, relaxing into the smooth, slow rotations of his tongue. “Hello to you, too.”
“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He keeps our lips sealed as he lowers me back down to my feet.
“It’s been twelve hours.”
“Every minute feels like a century,” he mumbles into my mouth moodily. “I didn’t sleep a wink, I daydreamed my way through my morning, and tapped the table in the restaurant a million times with the fork while I waited for you.” He pulls back and scowls at me.
It’s then I see it. A nasty red mark on his cheekbone. My eyes root on the blemish, fury burning a hole through my gut.
“It’s nothing.” He covers the mark and steps away, avoiding my furious eyes.
“Nothing?” I ask, astounded. Nothing? I can feel myself beginning to quiver with the rage building. Last night she shredded him with her fucking nails, and now this? “You might not be able to retaliate, Jack, but there’s nothing to stop me.” I storm past him, enraged, set on finding Stephanie and giving her payback for all the marks I’ve seen on Jack, and the ones I haven’t, too.
“Annie, stop.” He snakes his arm around my waist from behind and lifts me from my feet, stopping me.
“She can’t do this to you!” I shout, wriggling to break free from his hold. “I swear, Jack, I’ll rip her fucking arms off so she can’t touch you again!”
“Annie, calm the hell down.” His voice is so level, so composed, as he takes me back to the kitchen. “You will be doing nothing.” Placing me on my feet, he tilts me a warning look.
This just isn’t fair. “How would you feel if you found me with one of these?” I ask, pointing at the mark, flinching as I imagine her hand connecting with his face. His beautiful face.
Jack’s low, threatening growl gives me my answer. “Don’t ask silly questions, Annie.”
“It’s not silly, it’s genuine. I want to know.”
His face looks murderous. “Kill.”
“I rest my case.” My lips form a straight, thin line.