Vision in Trust (Legends of the North #2) (8 page)

"Jessica! Wait, I don't even get so much as a greeting?"

That voice brought back memories she wished she could erase. He strode up to her side, lips twisted into a sneer. But seeing that face, those eyes boring into hers, she felt the years slip away. She was a scared twenty-two-year-old again, naïvely believing he loved her. That he was fighting his own demons but never meant to hurt her. But she knew that wasn't the truth. He was evil, sadistic, and he enjoyed it. His hands wrapped around her upper arms tightly, until they began to throb, and she cried out. But he didn't let go; instead, he leaned down so close his breath blew across her cheek.

"Did you come back for this, Jessica? Those pretentious city boys not man enough? I know you enjoyed it, the pain, the fight."

She whimpered at his words, head shaking from side to side, but she couldn't fight him off as her body sagged under the weight of his lies.

"I know you wanted it, even when you said no. I could see it in your eyes. I can see you still want it."

"Take your hands off her this second."

Miles lifted his head, his eyes widening fractionally, but he released her. She staggered back from him, rubbing at her arms as she felt Rob's hand on her waist, steadying her. Miles flicked his gaze over Rob, and then dismissed him, as his gaze rested back on her.

"As ever, it's been a pleasure, Jessica. I'll see you again real soon." He turned his back on them, ran up the stairs, and disappeared inside.

She leaned back against Rob, tears stinging her eyes.

"Who was that?"

Jess shook her head, closing her eyes as a thousand memories flashed through her mind. The day her mum had introduced her to Miles. The first time they'd kissed. The first time he'd hit her. The first time he tried ... She couldn't stop the sob that escaped her at that thought.

***

After Matt and Emma had left, he'd followed Jess towards the house, waiting as she went inside. He'd only been in the house maybe once, in all the years he'd known Matt.
 

He hadn't had to wait long before she was standing in the doorway. But when he'd seen him follow Jess out, and then hurt her? He'd wanted to rip his head off, which was not how he usually handled his problems. He wasn't his dad. But seeing that guy’s hands on Jess?
 

Her sob tore at his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. "It's okay, it doesn't matter." He felt her relax slightly into his hold, and he just held her, letting her vanilla scent wash over him as her breathing finally slowed to match his.

"You ready to go home?"

She nodded and pulled away from him, but he kept one hand on the small of her back. The urge to protect her was still there, and he needed the contact, even if she didn't. He glanced over his shoulder, but only the Hall watched them walk away.

Rob had finally left Jess alone without further questions about who Miles was, and she'd convinced Emma she didn't need her to come round. She'd spent the evening curled up on the sofa, with the two men who always made her feel better—Ben & Jerry. But as she climbed the stairs, she was more than ready to put this day behind her. Pulling the covers over her shoulder, she curled up on her side. She let out a sigh as the smell of Rob, woodsy with a faint note of chlorine, lingered on her pillow. She turned over, away from the smell, and punched her fist against the pillow until she got comfy and let sleep take her.

Jess was running from Alt Hall, through the fields, past cows that lazily raised their heads in question at her. She slowed and turned, wondering what she was running from, but there was nothing behind her. When she turned again, the field in front of her was scattered with peacocks.
 

The one in the centre flipped open its tail feathers, and hundreds of eyes stared at her. She tensed, waiting for the others to open their feathers, but they didn't. Instead, they started calling over and over, until they merged into one continuous cry. They all shifted closer to the central bird, and she realised they were peahens, warning her off their peacock. She stepped back, moving away from them, but the peacock was in front of her as she turned. Only now, it had the head of Rob, and he was staring at her.
 

"It's okay. It doesn't matter."

He just kept repeating that sentence, over and over.

Their cries turned into a scream. She realised that tortured sound was coming from her, because her arms were clasped so tightly the short fingernails dug into her flesh.

"Who is he to you, Jessica?"

She froze at the sound of Miles's voice in her ear.
 

"You think you know him, Jessica? Watch," he said, as he forced her to her knees. "This is who he really is. This is what he thinks of you." His cold fingers grabbed her chin and forced her head to the side. There, right in front of her, was Rob, a blond woman draped over him, laughing as Rob whispered something in her ear.

"But what about Jessica?" the blonde asked, running her hand over his cheek.

Jess's eyes widened
at the mention of her name since she had no idea who this woman was. Rob’s laugh echoed around her, and Miles's fingers tightened on her painfully.

"What would I want with Jessica? Frigid little bitch. I don't think she'd recognise fun if it bit her."

Miles laughed in her ear, but that word was just playing on repeat through her mind. Frigid, frigid, frigid. The blonde slipped onto Rob’s knee, straddling him as she thrust her tongue into his mouth. Another blonde appeared and started kissing Rob as the first blonde dropped to her knees, unfastening the button on his jeans.

"Want to watch, Jessica?" Miles asked. He bit her earlobe, his hands travelling down her stomach to her waistband.

"No!" she screamed.

She sat up, whimpering, "No, no, no." The sight of her bedroom had her confused; she looked around, but she was alone. Rob’s many blondes were nowhere to be seen, and thankfully, neither was Rob. She grabbed a pillow, hugging it close as she started to shake, great sobs tearing from her chest.
 

And she didn't know what was worse, Rob's cruel dismissal of her, or the thought of Miles. No, no, no. She buried her head in the pillow and screamed. Crying herself back to sleep, she didn't notice her mud-stained knees until she got up the next morning.

***

"I'm not taking no for an answer, Jess. It'll just be you, Vicky, and me. When was the last time we went out?” Emma's fisted hands went to her hips with the last sentence, reminding her of a kid having a tantrum. If Emma stomped her foot, Jess wouldn't be able to stop herself from laughing. If she were honest, that was what she needed after the week from hell that had started with that vision.
 

After that last vision—nightmare, whatever you wanted to label it—she'd not bothered much with sleep. Anne had been a bitch about her being short with the customers. And she'd never heard the end of the fact that she'd asked for an hour off so she could have an interview—not that Anne knew that was the reason, of course. An interview she still hadn't heard back about, and she really wanted that job. It would be the first step to working with others, actually helping people overcome issues in their lives, not making bloody sandwiches for them.

"Jess?"

"Okay, Emma. But at least let me get changed, and get rid of the bags under my eyes."

An impressive half an hour later, they were seated in a booth facing the bar, waiting for Vicky to show up.

"So, what's Matt up to tonight?"

"I think Rob's supposed to be coming round after he's finished his shift."

"Coming round?"

Emma turned from watching the bar to look at Jess through narrowed eyes. "To Matt's house." Emma tilted her head. "Why, where did you think I meant? Here, hopefully?"

"God, no." Jess would be happy never to see Rob again after her vision. She knew it wasn't real, but God, it had been embarrassing. "No, not here, Emma. Are you trying to set us up? Because if you are, seriously, you couldn't be further off the mark."

Emma raised her eyebrows, scepticism written across her face. "Really? So I've just imagined those smouldering looks between the two of you?"

Jess snorted. "Smouldering? What books have you been reading lately, Emma? And yes, you have imagined them. Just because you and Matt are loved up doesn't mean the rest of us are going to, or need to be."

"Here, here," Vicky said, as she slipped into the other side of the booth. "Singledom is much more fun. Who needs the hassle of a relationship?"

"It's not a hassle," Emma exclaimed.

"Give it another month or so, when the honeymoon period has worn off, and tell me that again. Or when you move in together and start doing his laundry, picking up after him. Tell me then it's still all hearts and flowers."

Jess knew there was a reason she liked Vicky and grinned at her.

"Just wait, you'll both see. When you meet—"

"The right man," Jess and Vicky joined in with Emma, before laughing.

"Oh, Emma, there's no such thing. You just convince yourself the man you're with is the right one. Until you find out he's not. Remember Ben? You said he was the one until you found him in bed with Sarah."

Emma scowled at Vicky, but Jess didn't hear her response. She was too focused on Rob, sitting at the bar. With a blond woman. She shut her eyes, trying to block out the sight, but the image from her dream flashed before her closed eyelids, and she felt her cheeks flush. When she opened her eyes, he had his arm around the woman’s shoulder, whispering something in her ear. He helped her down from the bar stool, and his eyes met Jess’s. She glared at him, unable to tear her gaze from his until he did, when he turned away as he helped the blonde out of the pub.

Emma grasped her hand. "You know it doesn't mean anything."

"Oh, don't I ever."
 

Jess forced the conversation to other subjects until Rob walked back in, about half an hour later, with Matt in tow this time.

"Mind if we join you?"

Emma smiled up at Matt and slid closer to Jess. Rob sat next to Vicky, as Emma introduced them both
. Yes, Rob, another blonde. Please, don't stop yourself from hitting on her. Why not make it two in one night?
She'd had enough. Finishing off the wine in her glass, she dragged Emma to the toilets with her. "I'm going home; I've had enough for one night."

"But it's still early, Jess."

"I've not been sleeping well. The visions." Jess felt bad, using it as an excuse, but she knew it would work.

"I'll get Matt to walk you home."

"No. I'm fine. Go, enjoy the rest of your night." Jess walked the long way round to avoid their booth and pushed open the door, out into the cold night. She'd only managed to cross the road when she heard Rob shout behind her.

"Jess, wait up."

Oh, God, why couldn't he just leave her alone? She didn't want to speak to him, so she started a weird half-walk, half-jog, trying to get away from him without looking like she was running away.

"Jess!"

She ran up the path to her house, and as her hand touched the door, she felt his on her shoulder.

"Why are you running away from me?"

She rested her forehead against the door and blinked away the tears. Why
was
she running away from him? Because she had a dream about him? She wasn't about to admit that, and was that really why she was running? His hand dropped from her shoulder, and she shoved her key in the lock.

"Jess? I just wanted to make sure she got home safe. I work with her brother. She's a sweet kid who had too much to drink."

She let go of the keys, and snorted what she hoped sounded like a laugh, but the tears had already started. Was that how he saw her? The sweet kid sister of his friend? Probably, just not the sweet part.
 

Unlocking the door, he took the keys out of the lock, opened it, and guided her inside with a hand on her back. At the sound of the door shutting, Jess turned. He gave her a small smile and slowly lifted his hand to her cheek, brushing his thumb across it as he wiped away her tears. "Why did you run from me, Jess?"

She lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug and, as it dropped, said, "I had another dream."

His hand moved, as though reaching for her before he lifted it to the back of his neck. As he did, his T-shirt rose, revealing taut stomach muscles and a smattering of black hairs. She dropped her gaze to her feet as his shirt dropped back into place.

"I had a dream too."

Her head jerked up so she could see if he was joking, but his face was serious, no dimple in sight.

"About you."

She pulled a strand of hair around her finger as she stared at him. Was this some kind of tit-for-tat conversation? Not for the first time, he walked straight past her and made himself at home.
 

She heard the fridge door open, the clink of glass on glass, and then the smash of what she assumed was the bottle opener as it landed on the counter. Making his way out of the kitchen, he offered her an open beer bottle and disappeared into the living room.
 

Jess took a swig of the cold beer, and then another, not sure if she wanted to hear about his dream—if he did, in fact, intend to tell her about it. She found him sprawled on the sofa, legs open wide, dangling his beer bottle between them. His head was laid back on the cushion, eyes closed.

She'd been so wrapped up in getting away from him, not telling him about her vision, she hadn't realised just how tired he looked. Her chest ached at the thought that she might be partly to blame.

"Sit down, Jess."
 

He didn't move, or open his eyes, but she did as he said. She curled up in the corner of the sofa and watched him.

His lips twitched, not quite into a smile, but the dimple flashed at her. "You died."

She gasped, both at his words and as the cold beer spilled over her. Grabbing a cushion to soak it up, she pressed it against her.

"You were running away from me, just like earlier. But you didn't run home, you just kept running, right into the arms of the man who grabbed you outside of Altenbury Hall. He saw me running after you, and he just smiled at me. An evil smile that seemed to say, 'I'm going to screw with your life.' He pulled out a knife, but you couldn't see it because he stabbed you in the back. And I tried, I ran so fast. But I couldn't get to you. He just kept stabbing you, over and over. And the blood ..."