Trusting Jack (30 page)

             
“I’m a guy.  We see other guys pee all the time.  This is pretty much the same thing.  Let me help you.”  She pointed again and he rolled his eyes.  “Fine.  But I’m coming right back in as soon as I hear you flush.”

             
True to his word, he walked in before the toilet could finish its cycle.  Emma rolled her own eyes.

             
He eased one of her night shirts over her head and plumped the pillow behind her.  She sank into the mattress, grateful to be in her own bed.  Her eyes drooped and Chris gently kissed her cheek.  “Get some sleep.”

             
He wandered back downstairs to find Jack and Norah looking over menus.  “We can’t decide between Italian or Greek,” she told him.

             
“Italian.  I could go for some spaghetti and meatballs.”

             
“Vivendo’s it is.  I’ll phone in the order.”

             
“How is she?” Jack asked quietly.

             
“Tired.  I know the meds make her sleepy but at least they keep the worst of the pain at bay.”

             
Jack dropped onto the couch.  “At first, they

thought she might have internal injuries, head trauma.  I

thought I’d lost her before the ambulance got there.”

             
“I know.  I know how worried you were, are.  So am I.  I can’t stand seeing her like this.”

             
Jack eyed him.  “I swear I never meant to hurt her. I swear it was huge, terrible misunderstanding.”

             
Chris nodded.  Norah had filled him in the night before.  “I’m sure y’all can work it out.”

             
When the doorbell rang, Jack bumped up his hips, got his wallet.  He pulled out some bills.  “My treat.” 

             
Norah didn’t argue.  She accepted the money, exchanged it for food, and motioned them towards the kitchen.  She dug out forks from a drawer and they ate from the containers.

             
“Do you think we’ll be able to control the press now that the initial story is over?” she wondered.

             
“I’m guessing yes, for the most part,” Jack answered.  “It’s already a couple days old, so they’ll mainly be interested in updates.  And those are nowhere near exciting as breaking news.”

             
“Besides,” Chris put in, “another new scandal will crop up soon; one always does.”

             
“True,” she agreed.  “I hope it’s really soon.  Emma hates being in the spot light.”

             
“She’s always been a little shy, a little quite.  At least until she becomes comfortable with someone.”

             
“I thought she’d never warm up to me,” Jack said with a small grin.

             
“She worked hard not to,” Norah grinned back, “but you worked harder.”

             
“I think it’s time for bed,” Chris said after a

huge yawn.  “Now that I’m satisfied my Emma is really

OK, and my belly is full, I can barely keep my eyes

open.”

              “Where are you—“

             
“I’m staying in Emma’s room,” he interrupted Norah.  “She may need something during the night and I want to be there if she does.”

             
“OK.”  Norah nodded, standing to put her leftovers in the fridge.  “I was going to offer you my room.”

             
“Thanks, but Emma and I have shared a bed before.”  With a smile and a wave, he shuffled out.

             
Jack stared after him.  “Well.  He’s all but taken over, hasn’t he?” he muttered.  “All but pushed me aside.”

             
“Oh, Jack.  He’s her best friend; he loves her.  He’s not trying to push; he just wants to take care of her.”

             
“So do I.”

             
“I know.  But he needs to hover a bit, I think.”

             
“You’re right.  I suppose.  Well, since he’s with her and you’re here and I know how fucking uncomfortable that couch is I guess I’ll go home.  Take a long, proper shower, lay in my bed.  I’ll be back early.”

             
Norah saw him out, tidied the kitchen, and made her way to her own bed.

***

              Chris settled into bed beside Emma, careful to lie on the other side of her fractured ribs.  He quickly fell asleep.  It was around four when the feel of Emma’s shuddering body roused him.

             
She suddenly jerked awake, then moaned in pain.  She’d jarred her ribs.

             
“Emma?  Bad dream?  You need medicine?” 

She gave a shaky nod.  Her shoulder and wrist were beginning to throb in tandem with her ribs.

              The moon cast enough light through the curtains for Chris to locate the bottle and spoon on the nightstand.  He helped Emma rise up, and then poured a spoonful.  He held it to her mouth and she obediently swallowed.

             
It was bitter.  She gagged and pushed at his arm.

             
“I know it tastes bad,” Chris sympathized.  “but you have to have liquid till your throat heals some.  One more spoonful.”

             
She sighed but nodded.  She took the second round and shuddered again at the vile taste.  She quickly swallowed some water before lying back again.

             
“Want to tell me about your dream?” he asked, reclaiming his spot beside her.

             
“Awful.  He hurt me. So scared…couldn’t get away.”  It hurt to remember, it hurt to whisper the words.  Hot tears poured down her face as memories slammed into her.  “He…hurt me.  I tried to get…away.”

             
“Shhh, baby, it’s over.  The bastard will never hurt you again.”  Chris gathered her close.  He held on and gently rocked her while she cried.

Chapter 40

              True to his word, Jack was back the next morning.  Chris let him in, and then wandered back into the kitchen.  Jack followed.

             
“Cereal?” Chris offered around a mouthful of Cheerios.

             
“No, thank you.  I grabbed a bite before I left.”

             
“You’ve been gone a total of,” Chris consulted his watch, “nine hours.  You must be getting tired.”

             
“I’m here to look after my girl,” Jack replied heatedly.  “You don’t have exclusive rights to tending her.”

             
“Easy, friend.  All I meant was you need rest, too.  Dial it down.”

             
Jack sighed and rolled his shoulders.  “Sorry.  I’m on edge; I feel so helpless.  I’m not sure what I can do for her now that you’re here.  She didn’t want me around anymore, before.”

             
“I know, but maybe things will change now.”  Chris put his bowl in the sink and sat across form him.

             
“How did she do last night?”

             
“She mostly slept.  She woke up once, from a nightmare.  She was hurting pretty bad, too, so I gave her some medicine.”

             
“A nightmare.  About Marcus.”

             
Chris nodded.  “She must’ve been scared to death, but she fought back.  Why Emma?”

             
“He’d been after her from the start, wanting a

date.  She kept turning him down.  And when we got

together, he saw it as a huge insult.  He didn’t get the

part he’d been bragging about, and Roger refused to
 

keep him on.  It must have pushed him to the edge. 
When he saw Emma in the hallway, I guess he snapped.”  Jack’s mouth tightened.  “It’s no excuse for hurting her.  I hope the crazy fucker rots in a cell.”

             
“Right there with you.”

             
The doorbell rang and Norah called out, “I’ve got it!”  She came in carrying a huge bouquet of yellow roses.  “From Roger and Janet,” she commented.  “I wish he didn’t feel so guilty.”

             
“Give it time; he’ll come to realize it’s not his fault,” Jack advised.  “I know he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure Marcus is convicted and gets the longest sentence possible.”

             
“Good,” Norah replied spiritedly.  “We all will.  I just wish the death penalty applied.”

             
“Down, girl,” Chris told her with a grin.  “I’m inclined to agree with you, though.  I’m going to heat up some chicken broth for Emma.”

             
“I’ll take it to her, if you don’t mind,” Jack said.  “I want to see her.”

             
He entered Emma’s room carrying a tray with broth, water, and the morning paper.  Emma was staring out the window.  “Good morning, love.”

             
She turned her head, lifted her good hand in greeting.

             
“Hungry?”  She nodded.  “I’ve brought broth.”  She scowled and he chuckled.  “I know, darling.  Just a few more days, hopefully, then you can tuck into a nice steak.”  Emma licked her lips and made him laugh again.  He sat the tray down and picked up the mug and a spoon.

             
“I can feed myself,” she whispered.

             
“Are you sure?”

             
She nodded and reached for the mug.  Her

fingers closed around the handle and it shook as she tried to raise it to her lips.  Tears of frustration filled her eyes as Jack took it back before she spilled it.

              “It’s ok,” he said gently.  “You’re still weak.  Let me help you.”

             
He fed her, wiping her mouth when she was finished.  “Would you like me to read you the news?”  When she nodded, he opened the paper and cleared his throat.  “Ah, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge are expecting.  Brilliant!  The heir to the heir will have an heir.  The succession continues.” 

When Emma humphed-her version of a laugh for now-, he said, “Oh, I know you Americans don’t get it, but we’re mad about that sort of thing over here.” 

Emma raised a corner of her mouth with amusement.  She winced, touched a finger to her lips.  “Will you hand me…a mirror?”

             
“Er…maybe you should wait another day or two.”

             
“No.  I want to see.”

             
He found a handheld mirror in the bathroom and slipped an arm around her while he trained it on her face.  She stared silently, taking in the black eye, the healing lip, the multitude of bruises marring her skin.  She tilted her head back and saw the ring of bruises circling her throat.  She pushed his hand away.

             
“Ugly.”

             
“No, Emma.  You’re beautiful.  Those marks will fade.  You’re alive and that’s what’s important.”

             
She nodded and reached for his hand again.  She wanted to tell him she loved him, that she knew he hadn’t betrayed her.

             
Before she could whisper the words, Norah

breezed into the room.  “You have visitors,” she

announced.  “Want me to brush your hair before they come up?”

             
“Yes, please.”  It would have to wait, she thought.  She didn’t want an audience.

             
Jack went back downstairs while Norah helped Emma to the bathroom and back to bed.  She brushed her hair then studied her face.  “Make-up would help a tiny bit,” she told her, “but washing it off after would probably hurt.”

             
“No make-up”

             
“Wise decision.  I know you’re hurting again; I can see it in your eyes.”

             
“Just tired.  Getting up…took a lot out of…me.”

             
“Yeah.  You’ll be a little stronger tomorrow.  For now, though, will you take another dose of medicine for me?  I don’t want you to hurt.”

             
Emma nodded and swallowed the nasty liquid.  Norah clucked with sympathy and smoothed the covers.  “I’m going to let them in now.”

             
Roger and Janet came in, followed by Alison carrying a vase of pretty purple tulips.  Emma lifted a hand at them.  Roger stepped forward, capturing her hand and giving it a kiss.