Keeping You: KJ Elite Inc. (6 page)

“Really?” I’m pretty sure my face looked comical with my brows pulled together and a silly smile on my lips.

“Oh yeah. Her daddy, Nic, trashed so many ladders. Tommy would wait ‘til bedtime and climb into her room with a ladder. It started when they were about 6. Taylor couldn’t or wouldn’t sleep without Tommy; said he chased her nightmares away. Ma and Mrs. Vic thought it was the most adorable thing and really, they were six – what trouble were they going to get in to?” He shrugged and chuckled at the memory.

“They kept it up from that first day until she left. When they were teenagers though, Nic laid down his foot and said that they could only do it if they left the door open and Tommy slept on the chaise in her room.”

“Wow. That is pretty adorable.”

He just agrees and stands there watching me.

“So, what was it that Taylor almost went all ghetto hood girl on you, over?”

“Ah. Well, Taylor and Tommy didn’t actually get married yesterday.”

“What do you mean? I was there.”

“They’ve actually been married since graduation night. 6 years ago.”

My jaw dropped.

“She never told me.” It was hard not to be hurt. Taylor knew some of my deepest and darkest secrets, mind you not all, but most.

“Don’t take it to heart, they never told anyone.”

It took me a few minutes to sort through the whole conversation.

“Cindy May?”

He grinned but had the good manners to appear nonchalant and unaffected.

“Drunken almost mistake.”

I just sat there, hoping mega bitch stayed hidden.

“You seem a little green.” His grin grew impossibly larger and he strode over to me, his house shoes clacking on the floor.

“Don’t you worry it none, sugar. I’m all yours.”

As I opened my mouth to respond, he slid his big strong fingers under my chin. Lifting my face up to him, he leaned down and brought his lips a hairsbreadth from mine. Our breaths mingled together, a chill ran down my spine and my lower belly was lit on fire. These reactions were really taking over and scaring me because I had no idea what to do with any of them. For all I knew, these foreign waters were shark infested.

His hot breath was minty and delightful. My eyes closed as I savored his nearness.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He whispered.

When I opened my eyes, he was gone without so much as a swish of movement.

Figuring I had nowhere else to go, I grabbed the laptop from where Noah set it last night and refreshed my email. I was still in shock that the whole world was actually looking for me. Taylor issued a statement and KJ Inc. was working hand in hand with the FBI to find me. Of course, I was a priority to the families so they found me without much help from the Feds; no big surprise. My email was chock full of messages from people I was never particularly close with and notifications from google. One night I was especially self-conscious so what did I do? The natural thing of course, I set up a google alert on my name. It appears I had been featured on the news a lot and in magazines, newspapers, social media sites and blogs. Not to sound conceited, but a lot of people really cared. That was so odd to me, though. It’s not like I was anyone’s best friend – aside from Taylor – I only had acquaintances and I was a model for goodness sake. As I sit there scrolling through my email, hitting delete on all the junk and google notifications, one email catches my eye.

From: Unknown     

To: Jamie S. Wright

Subject: Keeping You

Sent: 08:48 a.m.

I still own you. He can’t keep you forever, bitch.

Tick tock.

Bile rises up my throat. I all but throw the laptop on the floor and run to the bathroom where everything I consumed in the past 24 hours has just met the toilet bowl. It’s as if all of my energy and strength exited with my stomach contents. By the time I’ve finished dry heaving for ten minutes I realize that there’s a cold wet cloth on my neck and my hair has been tied back; Noah stands beside me, rubbing my back and whispering soothing words. I don’t even have the energy to sit back on my haunches so I slump to the left and my face smooshes up against the cold glass of the stand-up shower encasement.

The sickly sweet smell of syrup and cinnamon sugar assaults my nose as I take a deep breath.

“You smell like french-toast.”

He chuckles and raises a shoulder. “Better than puke.”

“Mean.”

“You want mean, I bring back my original question: This, coming from the one whose middle name is Sue? How are you born in one of the nastiest project, raised by a pimp and junkie whore, and come out with a middle name like Sue?”

“Apparently it was the only bit of heart left in the space heater; it was her mother’s name.”

He sucked in a breath when I called my biological “mother” a space heater. “Did you ever meet your grandparents?”

“As far as I know, they’re all dead. I suppose with all the money I’ve made I should look into that sometime.”

“As curious as you are, I’m surprised you haven’t already.” Noah stood awkwardly, slowly approached and then lifted, cradling me to his chest.

“Wait, I need to brush my teeth.” I protested, talking away from his face.

“I’ll bring you your toothbrush and a cup with water.”

“Fine, but my bed really isn’t where I want to be.” I hadn’t really meant that the way it sounded – which I also didn’t hear until after I said it.

“Well sugar, I’d invite you over to my place, but I’m a man and it’s not exactly tidy.”

“That’s not what I meant. Wait – how is your room trashed already? Didn’t you just get in there, like…” I looked over at the clock and counted in my head. “Twelve hours ago?”

“I already told you, I’m a man. We’re disgusting and messy.”

When Noah laid me down, Diesel jumped up on the bed and cuddled his head under my hand.

“He came and got me.”

“You mean you didn’t hear me with those supersonic ears of yours?”

“Oh, I did. He came just as I was coming up the back staircase.”

He walked away, disappearing in the bathroom for a second before he came back out with my toothbrush and two cups.

“So, say your grandparents are alive. Then what?” Noah asks.

“Well, then I would want to know what kind of people leave their grandchild with two monsters and not a word from them as I flutter through the foster care system like the flash of a camera on shutter.”

Regardless of how I talk or how angry I get, it hurts my heart so deeply to know that someone could be out there for me. Even worse to know that they just abandoned me.

Unable to look him in the eye without losing it completely, I closed my eyes and laid back into the pillows.

“What the hell is this?” Noah demanded, angrily.

My eyes had been closed long enough that when I opened them the light made me squint to adjust; I look over to Noah who is standing over where I threw the laptop – the laptop he is now holding and staring at.

“Oh.” It suddenly occurs to me that I’ve forgotten to mention it to him.

Noah visibly grinds his teeth and cracks his neck. I do what I do best and cower.

“Jamie.” He breathes. “What the hell is this?”

“I don’t know who sent it and I only just saw it. It’s why I got so sick in the first place.”

“That explains why it was thrown on the ground.” He murmurs.

“I’m sorry. If I broke it, I’ll buy Taylor a new one.” I say, timidly.

“It ain’t Taylor’s.”

“Tommy then.”

He laughed silently and shook his head.

“0 for 2 there, sugar dumplin’.”

I scrunched down into a ball and peeked over my knees. “Peyton’s?” I half-heartedly guessed knowing whose it really was. Dangit. The one guy I ever start to feel anything for and I start off by freaking out on him and breaking his things. Oh, and apparently I’m also a voyeur now, too.

The Lord was surely testing me.

“You only get one more guess before you lose your treat.”

“Treat you say?” I sat up straight. I’d never been given a treat before.

“Oh yeah, and I think you’ll like it. A lot.”

“Would I sound desperate if I said, gimme, gimme, gimme!” I can’t help it if I did a little bounce onto my knees and held my hands out. Technically it was my second treat but that made me childlike in the experience still. Only God can judge me!

He laughed and set the laptop down, stepping forward to grab my hands before I pulled back.

“I told you – You have to guess correctly first.”

“Spoilsport.” I huffed.

“Is that your final answer?”

I eyed him as he lifted my hands to his face. The movement startled me and pulled back ever so slightly. No matter that I knew he wouldn’t hurt me; in the back of my mind the sirens were going off that we were all alone for real this time and I really did not know anything about him, still. That and any physical involvement with a male had never been in my favor, causing hesitation.

“Yours.” I whispered, feeling guilty and really terrible.

Without confirming what I already knew, Noah pulled me lightly so I walked on my knees to the edge of the bed and stepped off. Off into his bubble where he, again, pulled my hands to his face. He kissed each of my knuckles and then flattened my palms on his cheeks.

A zing raced through each of my fingers, up my arms and down to my toes. The man was pure sex.

I won’t survive him - that much is clear.

I shivered and he opened his eyes, knowingly. Without a word, he dropped one arm and tugged lightly on the other, pulling me all the way down to the kitchen.

There on the breakfast bar was a plate with a mile high stack of delicious looking french-toast. Completely drowned in butter and syrup and sprinkled with more than normal powdered sugar. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was a mind reader. Size 0 butt or not, I loved nothing more than a huge pile of french-toast that’s been dipped in egg and cinnamon sugar then cooked and buttered, then sprinkled with more cinnamon sugar to be topped off with a gallon of pure maple syrup and sprinkled with too much powdered sugar. It’s a miracle I wasn’t a size 20. Honestly.

I think I’ve actually died and gone heaven – forget being rescued.

Chapter 4

“I have no words. I cannot believe you just ate that entire plate.”

My mind is blown. This woman who looks like she could hide behind a pencil, just ate an entire loafs worth of french-toast plus the extras and half a pack of bacon. I’m in love.

She laughs awkwardly as if I’ve embarrassed her and I immediately regret saying anything.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

I really need to install a filter that stops me from putting my foot in my mouth every single time she is around.

“It’s okay. I mean, having known what it’s like to actually be starving and begging for my next slice of bread, never knowing when or if I’ll eat again is a powerful thing. I love to eat, whenever I can and I don’t usually discriminate.”

I went from amazed to pissed off, ready to pull the trigger or slide the blade of my knife across the throat of the piece of shit who should have been taking care of her and loving her unconditionally, instantly.

She must have noticed the change in my demeanor. A buddy of mine told me once that it was like a switch when I went from happy go lucky to a ball of fire, physically emanating the heat of my rage; he said that anyone in a five foot radius could feel the change. Who knows, maybe it was a big part in my transitioning to team leader my third year in the Seals.

I close my eyes and try to reign myself in. She doesn’t deserve my wrath and I definitely don’t want to scare her.

“Thank you. For the food. It was delicious.” Jamie began playing with the hem of…my shirt.

I smirked and sidled closer to her.

“Well, well, well. First you spy on me in the shower, then you throw my laptop and you top it all off by walking around in only my t-shirt. My favorite t-shirt, too.”

If she were any other girl, I would have told her that she had to take it off immediately so it didn’t get ruined, to get laid. But no other women wore my shirts. And those other women, in my past, were not Jamie. She was more than that and more importantly it would probably throw her into an anxiety attack.

Kind of like if I told her that the one she refers to as “space heater”, wasn’t her biological mother. That knowledge is something even Luke hasn’t quite figured out yet. Not because I’m smarter, but because I have been looking and he’s been pre-occupied juggling other cases and tracking down the sender of the email. Once he puts his mind to it, he’ll see the differences, or rather lack of similarities, and put it all together. She definitely doesn’t look like Marcus Wright – ugly fuck that he was.

I know she has a right to know, but she also has a right to get back to her life before she gets throttled with more shit. After we have settled this email crap and wiped her slate clean again.