Middle of Knight (41 page)

Never. Enough. Stars.

*

Knight

“Thank you? Okay
then, Dr. Jones. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Through a haze of smoke, Knox smirked around his cigar, taking another slow draw, a slight squint to his already beady, dark eyes. He looked at his watch. “If all goes well, we’ll have you home by curfew.”

“What about Jessica? She looked miserable … not like a woman living of her own free will.”

Snuffing the end of his cigar in the ashtray, Knox looked at Luke with a hint of pleasure in his eyes. “The guy she’s been fucking is dying. Cancer … a real bitch.

Luke closed his eyes. Numb.

“Now. You’re going to wake up in your own bed tomorrow morning feeling much like you did when you arrived here—groggy and disoriented. That blow to your head earlier is going to give you one hell of a headache. I’d suggest taking something for it as soon as you wake. Once your mind stops spinning and the memories from today start to fall back into place, you’re going to have the urge to tell someone—friends, family, the police. Don’t. Everyone you tell dies. Any questions?”

Luke stared at the table. Someone brought Jessica back to life just to kill her in front of him. Another man. She was with another man—a man who was dying. The pain seeped into his chest like poison.

His body stiffened, rejecting Knox’s condescending hand that landed on his shoulder.

“If it were me, I’d get drunk off my ass, stick my dick in as much pussy as possible, burn everything that bears her memory, and get on with my fucking life.”

Knox opened the door and nodded. Two men stepped in the room. One of them handed Knox a syringe. He pulled the cap off with his teeth then spit it on the floor.

“Are you ready to go home, Dr. Jones?”

“Why fake her death?” Luke continued to stare at the table as Knox held his head to the side with one arm while pressing the tip of the syringe to his neck with his other hand.

“Nobody looks for dead people.”

Stick. Burn. Black.

Knight

T
hanksgiving was two
days away and for the first time in her life Ryn had no plans. Her parents, not knowing about Jackson’s it’s-not-you-it’s-me breakup, decided to take a cruise assuming Ryn would be with him since Maddie would be with Preston. Ryn dropped the restraining order and if her stubborn daughter would have answered her calls or listened to her messages, she’d have known that. Instead Ryn was on her way to clean AJ’s house per Jillian’s request and then Jillian and Jackson’s place. She hadn’t seen or spoken to Jackson since their breakup the previous week.

“Hi, Ryn.” Jillian answered AJ’s door.

She smiled, stepping inside while looking for AJ.

“He’s sleeping.”

Ryn nodded. “I’m afraid to even ask how he’s doing.”

Jillian sighed. “For the past week he’s basically been sleeping. He has some short-term memory loss and vision issues. When we flew here from Houston I thought his vision was completely gone, but he’s regained a bit a few times since. It’s sporadic and unpredictable. I’m guessing swelling or the tumor. I don’t know.”

Ryn gave her a sad smile. “I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do just name it.”

“What you’re doing today is great. The downside to his vision coming back sometimes is he sees how dirty things have gotten around here and apparently my cleaning is not up to his standards.”

With a little chuckle, Ryn smiled. “Well, this I can do for you. Should I just avoid his bedroom?”

“No. The blinds are partially open, but he’s really out of it so I wouldn’t worry about waking him.”

“Is his family coming for Thanksgiving?” Ryn hollered from the hall bathroom.

Jillian leaned against the doorway with her arms folded over her chest. “No.” She scrunched her nose. “They don’t know we’re here. Nobody knows we’re here except Jackson. I’ve even tried to keep my trekking back and forth to a minimum so the neighbors don’t get too nosy. Jackson’s been dropping off food. AJ doesn’t want his family here … he doesn’t even want to be here, but I needed to come back for … certain reasons.”

“Why don’t I make you both Thanksgiving dinner and bring it over? I’m sort of by myself this year and I love to cook so it would be no trouble.”

Jillian lifted a single shoulder. “AJ’s hardly eating anything, and what he does eat I have to force feed him—it’s not pretty. And I don’t eat meat so …”

“But you eat, right?” Ryn couldn’t help but smile at her own ridiculous eagerness.

Jillian laughed. “Yes, I eat.”

“Great. I’ll make a vegetarian Thanksgiving dinner, and then you’ll have leftovers for a few days too.”

“You don’t have—”

Ryn shook her head. “I want to. Please?”

Jillian nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

*

After Ryn finished
AJ’s house, Jillian told her their front door was unlocked and Jackson may or may not be there. That meant Ryn may or may not have to clean their house for two hours with her heart in her throat.

“Hello?” she called as she peeked in the door.

No answer. She sighed and carried her supplies inside. Even without him there it was difficult to not feel his presence everywhere. With each room, she picked up speed, going from a small part of her hoping he’d show up to an overwhelming need to get out of there before he came home.

Releasing a sigh of victory as she wound up the vacuum hose, she turned toward the hall leading to the garage door.

“Hi.”

Her heart wasted no time leaping into her throat. “Hi … uh was my car in your way? I’m just leaving.” She knew her car wasn’t in his way, but her nervousness took over, grasping for anything to say that was random and impersonal like the weather or parking spots.

He shook his head.

“Great, then I’ll just be going.” Ryn grabbed as many of her supplies as possible to limit her trips back inside.

After loading her first armful of supplies in the back of her vehicle she turned. “Oh …” She stopped inches from ramming into Jackson. “Thanks.”

He handed her the vacuum and last bucket. “How have you been?” he asked after she shut the back door.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I don’t know how to answer that. So I’ll just say fine and leave because this is a little awkward.” She tried to slip by him.

“Ryn?” He hooked just her pinkie finger with his finger and tugged it. That small touch stopped her heart.

“Please don’t,” she whispered, not wanting him to know the fragile shell of her heart could splinter into tiny pieces from his slightest touch.

“I miss you.”

Ryn bit her tongue instead of screaming. Why did he say that? He missed her, so what?

“That’s not my fault.” She pulled from his grasp and even though it was just his finger, it took incredible strength to let go. Ryn hated herself for giving a man that much power over her again.

“What if we just went back to how things were before, except … without the sex?”

On an uncontrolled laugh, she turned. “Friends? Are you taking another vow of celibacy or is this just your way of keeping me under your control so no one else can have me even if you don’t want me?”

“Dammit!” He pushed her against the door, caging her in with his hands against the window.

She didn’t move, not even a breath, as his came in huffs of angry hot air over her face. “Two weeks. Give me two weeks and it will be like this never happened.” The muscles in his jaw pulsed.

“Just like that? Whatever it is that has you so ‘fucked up’ is just going to disappear in two weeks?”

Jackson stared at her with determination etched along his tensed brows, eyes narrowed as he nodded.

She turned, waiting for him to release her from his prison. Jackson let his hands drop to his sides. Ryn opened the door and climbed in the driver’s seat.

“Two weeks,” she said and shut the door.

*

Denial comforted Jillian
on the days that AJ slept eighteen to twenty hours. She convinced herself the body heals while sleeping and AJ’s had a lot of healing to do.

“I’m tired.” He yawned as she made him breakfast at eleven thirty.

“You just woke up twenty minutes ago.” She slid him a plate with toast and butter. That was her specialty as long as the settings didn’t get bumped on the toaster.

AJ looked down at the table and slowly moved his hands toward the plate.

“Can you see it?”

He blinked several times. “Yes, I can fucking see it!” AJ clenched his fists at the sides of his head.

Jillian took a step back. Her heart pounded against her chest. The rage hadn’t reared its face for quite some time. The personality changes seemed to be non-existent since the radiation.

“AJ—”

“SHUT. UP!” He hammered his fist into the plate, cracking it into several large pieces.

Jillian flinched. His behavior frightened her the most because she knew no matter what he did, she wouldn’t fight back.

He slammed his fist down again sending toast and pieces of plate flying.

“WHY…”
BANG
“…CAN’T…”
BANG
“…YOU…”
BANG BANG BANG
“…LEAVE ME THE FUCK…”
BANG
“…ALONE?”

The next bang came from the front door slamming against the wall like it had been knocked off its hinges.

Silent tears rolled down her face as Jackson stormed around the corner.

“Go home, Jill,” he said, narrowing his eyes at AJ who stared at his bloodied fist covered in toast and embedded with bits of ceramic from the shattered plate.

The vacant look in AJ’s eyes would haunt her, maybe forever.

“I’m not—”

“Jillian, I swear … I will physically remove you from this house if you don’t leave right now.”

The need to wrap her arms around him and promise that everything would be okay remained locked inside the walls of fear. Fear that it wouldn’t ever. Be. Okay. Again. Instead, she walked away.

*

That stranger had
taken a vacation. AJ had hoped for good. But there he sat at the table, sweaty and bloodied with rage. His head jackhammered with pain as waves of nausea grew with intensity. He scooted his chair out, but before he could stand, his body buckled over his legs. He vomited the pills and water Jillian gave him when he woke up. The next round consisted of bile until all that remained were dry heaves, aching stomach muscles, and a burning throat.