Black Pawn (Michael Cailen Book 1) (7 page)

As Michael slowly awoke, he became aware that his arm was
still around Jessica.  His muscles ached from holding her all night.  He lifted
his head to see if she was awake.  She wasn't.  He laid his head back down and
closed his eyes.  He remembered he never talked to her about her missing
computers or that her apartment had been searched.  He almost didn't even want
to bring it up after last night.  She had been through enough and he wasn't
sure how much more she could handle.  Thinking about her computers made him
think about the cafe.  Why was she there?  Why was she using that crap computer
when she had two of her own?  It was nagging him.  He also couldn't figure out
why they searched her place.  If they were just waiting for her to come home,
why bother searching?  It didn't add up.  He also realized he never asked her
what she did for a living.  She told him she worked at home, but doing what? 
He'd have to talk to her.  He just hoped she wasn't still too traumatized from
the night before.  He felt her take a deep breath and sigh.  She was waking up.

She felt Michael's arm around her and felt his hand against
her chest.  She remembered falling asleep like that. She slid her fingers
between his and felt him squeeze back.

“You're awake?” she asked.

“Mmhmm.”

She turned over to face him.  She gave him a warm smile.  He
moved his hand up and cradled her face, gently caressing her cheek with his
thumb.  She closed her eyes.

“I'm so sorry Jessica,” he whispered.

“You didn't know that was going to happen.”

“I should have.”

She pulled his hand down and kissed the back of it.  He
studied her face.  She was beautiful.  He was falling for her.  He could feel
it, but he couldn't stop it.  He wasn't sure he wanted to stop it.

“I'll get the coffee going.”  He tore himself away from
her.  Lying next to her was killing him.

Jessica watched as he walked away.  For someone capable of
such brutal violence, he was so tender with her.

While Michael was rinsing the coffee pot in the sink he felt
Jessica's arms wrap around his waist and her body press up against his back. 
The move startled him.  His body tensed and his heart rate increased.

He used his free hand to press on hers.  She squeezed him
and he felt a flutter in his stomach.  He shut the water off, put the coffee
pot on the counter and turned around.  She looked shy now and was looking down
even though her arms were still around his waist.  He cupped her neck in his
hands.  Her eyes closed.

“Jessica.”

She slowly looked up.  He had a solemn yet calm expression
on his face.

“We're crossing a line here.”  He wanted to give her a way
out.  Give her time to think about it.

She looked in his eyes and nodded her head.  He slowly
leaned in and gently touched his lips to hers, then waited to see her
reaction.  She moved her hands up to his neck and pulled him into her as she
kissed him back.  He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight.

“Are you sure?” he asked during the brief second he was able
to tear his lips from hers.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Lifting her off the ground, he carried her to the bedroom. 
As they moved onto the bed, the reality of what she was doing began to sink in
and she started to second-guess her decision.

When he started pawing at her pajama bottoms, she suddenly
had a flood of mixed emotions.  She wasn't sure what she was feeling, but she
wanted to stop.  She was afraid to speak up though.  Afraid he would be angry,
afraid he wouldn't stop anyway.  After all she started it, she reasoned.  Her
heart pounded in her chest and she became filled with panic and fear.  She
finally couldn't take it any longer.  She tried to remain calm despite what she
was feeling inside.

“I need to get up.”  She spoke so softly Michael could
hardly hear her.

“What?” he panted between kisses.

“I need to get up,” she said louder and tried to push him
off.

He stopped and moved off her.  “You okay?”

“I'm fine.”  She avoided looking at him for fear he'd see
her expression and hurried off to the bathroom.

The move didn't go unnoticed by Michael.  It was obvious
something was wrong.  He could tell she avoided looking at him and was in quite
a hurry to leave the room.  He began thinking he might have made a big
mistake.  He closed his eyes and tried to think of what to do now.  The minutes
passed and Jessica didn't return.  He walked over to the bathroom door.

“Jessica?”  No answer.  He sighed.  “Jessica ... Come on, we
need to talk.”  Again, no answer. “I'm coming in.”  He waited but still no
answer.

He opened the door and saw her curled up in a ball in the
corner crying.  Her head was down with her hair covering her face.  He looked
at her wondering what could have caused her to react this way.  He had a bad
feeling he knew what it was.

He crouched next to her.  “Were you raped?”

Her quiet sobbing intensified and he had his answer.  He
berated himself for not seeing it sooner.  The losers she dated, the fact that
she didn't trust men.

“I'm so sorry, Jessica.  I didn't know.  I'm sorry.”

“I don't want your pity!”  She spoke with an anger in her
voice that he wasn't expecting.

“It's not pity,” he spoke calmly.  “It bothers me that
happened to you and I'm sorry it did.  No one should have to go through that.”

She calmed and wiped a few tears away, but still wouldn't
look up.

“Jessica, look at me.”  She didn't. 

“Please.”

She turned her head towards him and slowly raised her eyes
to look at him.  Feeling embarrassed, ashamed, and a blend of other negative
emotions she struggled to hold back the tears.  She looked at his face and was
met with a warm, compassionate smile that melted all those feelings away.

He brushed the hair away from her face.  “Why don't you
relax in bed.  I'll finish making the coffee and come join you.”

She nodded while trying in vain to dry her eyes.  He stood
holding out his hand to her.  She took it and he helped her up.

He walked with her to the bedroom and tucked her under the
covers.  He finished making the coffee then climbed into bed next to her.  He
moved close to her and wrapped his arm around her.  She curled up to him and
rested her head on his chest as he held her tight.  She had stopped crying and
now felt mostly numb.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“When you're ready, I'd like to know what happened.”

She found comfort in the fact that he wanted to know.  He
seemed to care.  He wanted to ask her if what happened to her had anything to
do with the fact that she didn't have any family photos or pictures of her as a
child.  Was this what she was trying to forget?  He didn't think it was the
time to press her for information though.

“So what did you do for work that you could afford such a
swanky apartment?” he asked, figuring it should be a fairly safe subject.

“I'm... was,” she corrected herself. “a sort of computer
security consultant.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

“Companies would hire me to try and hack into their
systems.  Then I would tell them where their weaknesses were and what they
could do to improve.”

“You must be good.”

“I was,” she replied, speaking in past tense since that life
was now over.

“Were you working at the cafe?”

“No.”

He was expecting her to elaborate but she didn't. “So you go
to that cafe often?”  Maybe he could solve that mystery, he thought.

“Once a month.”

“Is that an average?” She wasn't offering much, he thought.

“No, I go there once a month.”

Now he was intrigued.  “Why?”

She wasn't used to talking about Alex.  He was a friend of
hers that no one really knew about.  “I talk with a friend of mine online.”

“How about we not play twenty questions and you just tell me
what you were doing there,” he said finally.  “You had two computers at home
you could have used to talk to your friend online.  Why were you in the cafe? 
What aren't you telling me?”

“He's into some illegal activities and I can't talk to him
on my personal computers.  So I use the cafe computer,” she answered
sheepishly.

Michael sat up and looked at her.  “Go on.”

“What? That's it.”

“What kind of illegal activities? And how do you know when
he's going to be online?” he asked, getting irritated at her evasiveness.

“He's a computer hacker and we talk the first Tuesday of
each month at 11:00 a.m.”

“At 11:00 a.m. exactly? The first Tuesday?”

“Well, I'm usually five or ten minutes late, but yeah.”

“Now that's one hell of a coincidence.  I was supposed to be
meeting someone who had information on the people after me.  The appointment
was for Tuesday at 11:10 a.m.  Coincidentally, the same time you are usually at
the cafe.  What are you not telling me?”

She shook her head, confused. “I don't ... I don't
understand.”

“It was a set up.  There was no contact.  It was a trap so
they could kill me.  And they just happened to pick the same day and time that
you would be there.  Doesn't that strike you as odd?”

“Why would they want me dead?” she asked, looking to him for
answers.  It didn't make sense.

“This friend of yours.  Who knows about him?”

“No one.  I never talk about him. No one even knows I go to
that cafe.”  She was starting to get upset.  Why would they want her dead?

“How long have you known this guy?”

“Ten years. We met when I was sixteen.”

“Was he online when the shooting started?”

“No,” she said, worried now.  “He wasn't.  He's never been
late before.”  Then it hit her.  “The pictures!”

“What?”

“He sent me pictures.” She looked up at Micheal.

“What do you mean?  What kind of pictures?”

“I need to get my laptop.”  She leaped from bed and ran to
the dresser.

“Why do you need your laptop?”

“Pictures,” she started rambling.  “I knew I'd seen those
pictures before.  They were of a trip he took last year.  He sent them to me
but said he just went.  I knew they were familiar.  I should have seen it.” 
She trailed off as she started rapidly dressing.

Michael had no idea what she was talking about.  Vacation
pictures?  “Seen what? What are you talking about?”

She stopped briefly to explain. “When we met he showed me
how to hide messages in pictures.  We did it all the time.  We would chat in
forums and post pictures with hidden messages to each other for fun.  He hid a
message in the pictures he sent.  I have to find out what he was trying to tell
me,” she said as though she were speed talking.  “I need to get my laptop.”

“Jessica, your laptop is long gone.”

“What?” she replied stunned.

“They searched your place and took both your computers.  I'm
sorry.”

She looked unconcerned.  Michael wasn't sure why.

“No, I need my other laptop,” she said.

“What other laptop?”

“The one I keep in my safe.”

“You have a safe?”

“Mmhmm”  She quickly nodded.  “Under my desk.  We need to
get it.  Now.” She was insistent.

“I didn't see a safe under your desk.”  He wondered if maybe
it had been taken.

“It's in the floor,” she explained.  “Under the oriental
rug.”

“Oh.  Okay.  I'll go after dark.”

“Why can't we go now?”

“They're probably watching your apartment.  It's too
dangerous to try during the day.  I'll go alone after dark and get it.”

“That's not going to work.  There's a code and it needs my
thumb print.”

He looked at her like she had two heads. “What the heck do
you have on your laptop so that you need to use bio security?”

“I use it for work,” she said indignantly.  “It has all my
encryption, decryption and cryptanalysis software.  I can't afford to have that
stolen or end up in the wrong hands.”

He scrunched his brow.  “You have any jobs recently that
made you nervous?”

“No.  All my jobs are for big companies and once in a while
a bank.  I don't work for the mob if that's what you're thinking.”

“What kind of stuff is your friend into?”

“I don't really know.  We don't talk about his work.  I just
know that a lot of it is illegal.”

“Somehow this is all connected.  It's too much of a
coincidence you being at the cafe at that time. Neither of us was meant to
leave that place alive.”

Michael slumped down on the futon lost in quiet reflection
over what Jessica had just told him.  Jessica quietly sat next to him.

“So what are we going to do now?” she asked.

He looked at her.  He knew what he wanted to do, but he also
knew it wasn't going to happen.  All he could think about was holding her close
and kissing her.  But there was no way he was going to try that again.

“I don't know,” he said as he resisted the urge to carry her
off to the bedroom like a caveman.

To his surprise and delight, she moved close to him, leaning
her back against his chest and pulling his arms around her.  He kissed her neck
while he squeezed her tight.

As he held her, Michael was haunted by the fact that he
nearly killed her days before.  They had never spoken about it and the guilt
was eating at him.  Every time he looked at her, he was reminded that he nearly
ended her life.

“About what happened in the water,” he started.

Jessica turned her head to look up at him.  He looked down
into her eyes.

“I didn't know you would just give up,” he continued.  “I
was just trying to ...”  He looked away.  He couldn't find the words.  He
didn't know how to explain what happened or what was going through his head at
the time.  He closed his eyes.  He was racked with guilt and it showed.

“I wanted to teach you a lesson.  I was frustrated and I let
my temper take over.  It shouldn't have happened.”

She reached her hand up to his face and turned him to her. 
She gave him a warm smile. “I forgive you.”

He felt like a heavy weight had been lifted.  It bothered
him that he had lost control of his temper and it almost cost her life.  It
nagged him that they never talked about it.  He hoped now he'd be able to stop
thinking about it.

He brushed her hair away from her face and looked in her
eyes.  “Why did you give up?  Why didn't you fight?”

She looked away.  “I don't know. That wasn't the first
time.”

“What?  That you gave up?”

“Yeah.”

“And when was the other time?”

She took a deep breath and seemed to be staring off into the
recesses of her mind.  It didn't appear like she was going to answer him but
then she started talking.

“My father beat me,” she stated coldly.  “He wasn't a drunk,
he was just mean.  My mother was the drunk.  She didn't do anything to stop
him.” She told the story as if it had happened to someone else and not her. “He
never hugged me, never said he loved me or that he was proud of me.  Never even
paid attention to me unless he was angry at something.  My mother only paid
attention to me when he wasn't around and if she wasn't passed out drunk.  When
he was around, I might as well have been dead.”  She paused as though what she
had to say next was more painful.

“When I was fifteen, I started dating a senior in high
school.  He was a quarterback, and he was handsome and super popular.  For the
first time in my life, I felt like I was special.”

She pulled away from him.  He leaned forward, watching her. 
She looked back at him and tried to smile as her eyes filled with tears.  He
didn't say anything, he wanted to let her talk.

“One night, he said his parents were out and we could watch
a movie at his place.  I was more than happy to get out of my house and I was
excited to spend time with him.”  Tears streamed down her face and she closed
her eyes.  He put his arm around her and pulled her to him.  “He didn't want to
watch a movie,” her voice quivered.  “He wanted to have sex.  I told him I
didn't want to, that I wasn't ready.  He got angry.  He said he could have any
girl he wanted.  I told him fine, then go have them.  He said he wasn't going
to let some piece of trash like me turn him away.”  She began sobbing
uncontrollably.

Michael wrapped his other arm around her and held her
close.  “I'm sorry.”  He closed his eyes as she wept in his arms.  He was
filled with anger and disgust over how she had been treated by both her parents
and her heartless boyfriend.

“I ran away after,” she continued. “I couldn't go back.  I
couldn't face him in school.  Couldn't tell my parents.  My dad would've
probably blamed me and my mother would have done nothing.  I wanted to
disappear.

I lived on the streets.  I managed to stay away from the
pimps and dealers, but it was hard to find food.  I was afraid to go to any
soup kitchens or homeless shelters because I feared they would send me back.  I
would never go back.  Eventually my bad diet and lack of shelter and hygiene
took its toll on me.  I got very sick.  I was lying in an alley, starving,
dehydrated.  I was achy with a high fever, almost delirious.  I couldn't even
lift my arms I was so weak. I thought I was going to die in that alley and I
was glad.  I didn't want to live any more.”  Her mind seemed far away as she
spoke.

“I looked up and saw this guy standing over me. I remember
thinking, 'Can't I just die in peace?'  He knelt down and touched my forehead. 
He said I needed to be in a hospital and that he was going to call for help. 
With every ounce of strength I had, I pleaded with him to let me die, I
wouldn't go back.  Then I passed out.  When I woke, I was lying in a bed.  At
first, I thought I was in a hospital but when I looked around I could tell I
was in someone's house.  I was still so weak I could barely move.  Then that
guy walked in the bedroom with a glass of Gatorade and some crackers.  He
forced me to eat and drink before I passed out again.  The next few days all I
remember is him waking me to force crackers and Gatorade down my throat and
being carried to the bathroom every so often.  I don't remember how many days
went by.  I was in and out of consciousness.

I woke one day feeling much better.  It was light out and I
could hear a TV in the other room.   I was still very weak, but I climbed out
of bed and made my way into the other room.  The guy was sitting on the couch
watching TV.  There was a pillow and some blankets next to him.  He must have
been sleeping on the couch.  He saw me and smiled, then asked how I was
feeling.  I asked him why he didn't bring me to a hospital.  He said he didn't
know what I was running from, but it must be pretty terrible for me to want to
die.  He said he would help me if I wanted.  He let me live with him on the
condition that I home schooled.  He said if I was going to have a life, I
needed to have an education.  He took me in,” she said as she looked up at
Michael.

Michael wanted to meet this man and give him a medal.  “He
sounds like a good man.”

“He is.”  She smiled.

“I have a clearer picture now of where your distrust of men
comes from.  I don't blame you.  You've had some terrible experiences.”

“I trust you.”  She looked up at him.

He smiled then reached out and took her hand.  “Promise me
something.  Next time you find yourself in a situation, and you see no way
out.  I want you to fight like hell.”  He looked in her eyes.  “Fight like
hell.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

Michael suggested they get some rest before they go out to
get the laptop, so they moved to the bedroom.  They rested in each others arms
until they both dozed off.

IT WAS
dark when Michael woke.  The alarm clock read
1:23 a.m.  He had slept for quite a while.  Jessica was still sound asleep
beside him.  He lay looking up at the ceiling pondering over recent events. 
How Jessica had come to be in his life and how she went from being a captive to
a friend and romantic interest.  He couldn't wrap his head around it.  It was
all just so crazy, he thought.  And her life story was just awful.  This poor
girl had been through so much and now she was being hunted.  He had to put an
end to it.  She was a survivor and he knew she could handle life on the run,
but he didn't want her to.  She had made a life for herself and he wanted her
to have that back.

He didn't relish the thought of going back to Jessica's
apartment.  Especially since he needed her to get into the safe.  It was risky
and he didn't want them to die over a laptop.  But this could be the break he'd
been looking for.  It was worth it if they could end this.  They would just
have to be careful.

He turned toward Jessica, propping himself up on one elbow. 
He gently stroked her hair and caressed her face.  She sighed and started to
stir.  She looked at him, then moaned and buried her face in the pillow.

“Come on. Get up.”  He turned on the light.

She moaned again, but sat up this time.  Michael started
getting dressed as she walked to the bathroom.  He was ready, sitting on the
edge of the bed when she returned.

“Someone's in a hurry,” she remarked.

“I want to get this over with.”

MICHAEL PARKED
a few streets behind Jessica's
building, leaving her in the truck while he scouted ahead.  She wasn't thrilled
about being left alone in the dark, but Michael returned a short time later.

“The coast is clear until we get to the street behind your
apartment building.  I see at least one person watching the back door.  He
looks sleepy, he's not doing a very good job.  I think we can slip by.  I'm
guessing they also have one or two watching the front.  We'll try to slip in
the back though.  I'd rather they didn't know we came here.  They will know
we're still in the area and they'll focus more of their attention on the
surrounding areas.  They could find us.  Stick close to me and try to stay out
of the light.”

Jessica was nervous, but trusted Michael to watch out for
her.  They stuck to the shadows and soon were looking at her back door.  The
guy watching the back was passed out with his head back.  They'd been watching
the apartment too long and figured she wasn't coming back.  They let their
guard down.  Amateurs, Michael thought.  They dashed through the back door of
the building and walked silently to her apartment door.  Michael picked the
lock again since they didn't have her keys.  He pulled a small flashlight from
his pocket and they made their way to her office.

They rolled back the rug revealing a trap door.  Inside was
the safe.  Michael shined his light on the safe as she entered the combination
and then pressed her thumb on the scanner.  The safe clicked and she opened the
lid.  Inside was a laptop bag, a portable drive and a small envelope with
“Insurance” written in Russian on it.

“What's with the Russian?” he asked.

“How did you know that was Russian?” she looked at him.

“I speak Russian,” he answered.

“You speak Russian and Mandarin?”

“And German, Spanish and Arabic.  Quit changing the
subject.”

“Alex sent it to me a couple months ago.  Told me to hang
onto it for him.”

“Why does it say 'Insurance?'  What's in it?”

“Just a flash drive.”

“What's on it?”

“I don't know.  I never looked at it.”

“Why didn't you tell me about this?” he asked, annoyed.

“I didn't think of it.  What's it got to do with anything?”

Michael didn't have time to connect the dots for her, they
needed to get out of there.  “Take the stuff and let's go.”

They shut the trap door and laid the rug back down.

“I just need one more thing,” she said as she started
walking to her room.

“What is it?” he asked as she walked towards the little
bookshelf in her room. 
Oh crap
, he thought as she picked up the box
that looked like a book.  It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. 
He wanted to stop it but couldn't.  As she opened the box he was trying to
prepare himself for what would follow.

She had a look of complete horror as she gazed in the empty
box that once held her journal.  “They have my journal.”

“They don't have your journal.”

“It's supposed to be in here,” she said in a panic.  “It's
not here.  They must have it!”

“They don't have your journal, Jessica.”  Michael took the
box from her hand and returned it to the bookshelf.  “I have it,” he finally
admitted.

“You have it?”  She turned to him with a puzzled look on her
face.

“Yes.  Now, let's go.”  He grabbed her arm and they made
their way to the front door of her apartment.

Jessica was quiet as they walked down the hall towards the
back door of the complex.  Michael looked out and saw the man in the car was
awake now.

“We're gonna have to go out a window.”

They walked back into Jessica's apartment.  Michael opened a
window that was out of view from the men watching her apartment.  He helped
Jessica out and handed her the bag with the laptop.  Then he crawled out and
slid the window and screen back down.  They waited until the guy guarding the
back door seemed to dose off again then made a dash for the truck, being
careful to stay in the shadows.

“You read my journal?” Jessica asked as soon as they were
back in the truck.  There was a hint of anger in her voice. 

Michael was afraid this would happen.  He knew as soon as
she headed for the bookshelf that it would turn into a fight.  “I didn't read
your journal.”

“You have it though?”

“Yes, it's in the pocket behind my seat.”

She reached back and grabbed it.  As she held it, he could
see tears welling up in her eyes, but she looked angry.

“I didn't read it,” he said again.

She pressed her lips together and held back the tears.  She
didn't say anything; she just looked down at the journal in her hands.  Michael
didn't know what to say so he kept his mouth shut.  They continued the ride
back in silence.

When they arrived, Michael grabbed the laptop and got out. 
Jessica headed straight for the futon and lay down, pulling the blankets over
her.

Michael sighed.  “Jessica.  Don't do this.”

She didn't answer him.

“Come on, don't be like this.”

She still wouldn't respond, and he didn't know what else to
do.  He stepped into the bedroom and pulled off his shirt.  He changed into
some more comfortable pants and turned out the light as he got into bed alone. 
Faint sounds of crying made sleep impossible for him.  It was driving him
nuts.  He huffed and climbed out of bed.