End of Day (Jack & Jill #1) (35 page)

“Luke?”

He searched her eyes for something, maybe a clue to why she was doing this to herself.

“Luke?” she whispered. “Say something.”

“You didn’t kill him.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What … I-I did.”

He rubbed his lips together. “No. Edwin Harvey committed suicide.”

Jessica shook her head. “What are you talking about? Who’s Edwin Harvey?”

“The man who killed your friend.”

“He’s Four … that was his name because he cut my best friend
forty-four
times!” She yanked her hands from his and scooted back on the bed. “Don’t you dare call him that! Four. His name was Four. He wasn’t human. He was a goddamn piece of shit without a heart or soul. He didn’t deserve one single breath of oxygen, let alone a name to make him sound like a person with feelings and parents and a fucking life!”

Luke surrendered with his hands up. “You’re right. He didn’t deserve any of it, and he deserved to die…” his face winced into a pleading expression of pain as his chest tightened “…but you didn’t kill him, Jessica. It wasn’t your fault.”

She looked at him with a vacant stare, lips slightly parted, knees hugged to her chest. “Who told you that?” Her voice was flat and eerily calm.

“A friend of mine did some research. It was on the news, in the papers, viral online. His parents are very wealthy. I’m sure that’s why he was out on bail. The police report ruled it a suicide. He left a note before he drove off the bridge. They never found his body. Why would you think you killed him?”

“Because I did and I need you to believe me.”

“Jess—”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say—”

“Do you believe me?”

Luke moved toward her and she jumped off the bed like a frightened animal, easing toward the door.

“Stop.”

She shook her head. “I trusted you …” She turned and ran down the stairs then out the front door.

Luke followed her, calling her name. She hopped along grabbing one sandal and then the other, tossing them into the ditch before surging forward in an all-out sprint. His casual loafers were no match for her insane determination. Eventually, she disappeared,
fading
into the darkness. He slowed in breathless defeat, bending over with his hands propped on his knees. He tried to save her, but instead she slipped from his grasp.

Defeat heavy on his shoulders, Luke returned to the house. He closed the door and looked up with a heavy sigh.

“She’s in love with you,” his mom said, sitting on the bottom step in her grey terrycloth robe and slippers.

Luke blinked, staring at the floor. “She’s troubled. I’m not sure she knows how to love like that.”

Felicity stood, walking to her son. She rested her palms on his cheeks until he looked at her. “I love seeing you through her eyes. Not Dr. Jones, but my beautiful,
troubled
boy.” She smiled “Good night, love.” Felicity walked up a few steps and turned. “Loving you, Luke … it might be the only thing she knows how to do.”

His mother knew virtually nothing about Jessica, but somehow she felt everything. He went upstairs and waited in Jessica’s room, letting his mind battle with the fear that she was unstable, distraught, and alone in a strange place late at night. No shoes, no jacket, no phone, no Luke.

He sat in the chair by her bed for over two hours. Just as each blink struggled to recover, heavy with exhaustion, Jessica walked in the room. Without the slightest glance in his direction, she stumbled to the bathroom, pools of sweat covered her heat flushed skin. Luke stood. Leaving the door open, back to him, she turned on the shower and peeled off her clothes.

He moved toward her—regretful, conflicted,
aroused
.

Jessica froze as he stood a breath away from her naked body. She balled her fists, pumping them over and over.

Long dark hair veiled tan skin pulled taut over defined muscles, the kind that served a purpose far beyond what a young woman in her twenties should ever have to fathom. She was fear wrapped in strength greater than anything Luke had ever seen. He broke into a million pieces. Every piece was hers. He was ready to walk through the flames, sacrifice everything for her … one woman …
the
woman.

A lone drip of blood splattered on the tile at her feet. Luke’s eyes retraced its path. Several more drips pooled at her hand where her fingernails broke the skin.

“Do you believe me?” she whispered, like every last ounce of hope evaporated with her words.

He gathered her hair, pulling it off her neck. Pressing his lips to her skin he answered, “Yes.”

She turned, a stream of tears melting down her cheeks. “Luke.” Her voice cracked as her lower lip quivered.

Maybe his mom was right. Maybe the thing that he’d been holding back was the one thing Jessica needed more than anything else. It felt like the most inexplicable thing ever. Their relationship had surpassed inappropriate several lifetimes over. Yet, he swept away her tears and kissed her. It was a kiss that told all reason to fuck off.

Luke crossed his arms, grabbing the hem of his shirt.

“No,” she murmured against his lips.

He pulled back, eyes narrowed.

“I’ll have to make you bleed first.” She held up her hand, tipping her chin down in shame.

It was spelled out in front of him—in blood. All or nothing.

“Are you on birth control?”

Jessica lifted her gaze, searching for his intention. She nodded once.

Luke shrugged his shirt off and unfastened his pants, shoving them down his legs. His lips craved her … all of her. “Then make me bleed.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against his body as he lifted her into the shower.

“Luke—” she began to protest.

“We’re done talking.” He kissed her again, his tongue tasting her—claiming her.

Jessica’s hands tangled in his wet hair. His hands slid up to her breasts.

She broke their kiss, head falling back. “Oh … God,” she moaned, arching her back into his touch.

“Do you have any idea … how beautiful you are?” he whispered in her ear, each word accented with truth, need, and complete reckless abandon.

Her fingers curled into his back. He closed his eyes and waited, questioning whose addiction he was feeding—hers or his.

“I can’t.” Her legs buckled.

He held her to him as she sobbed into his chest.

“I’m not beautiful. I’m ugly because of him … he did this to me. He’s inside me and I hate him. I hate myself.”

“Shh … don’t say that.” He kissed her hair.

Once her sobs subsided, he wrapped them in towels and carried her to bed. Leaving the towel around her body, he covered her with blankets and kissed her forehead.

She opened her swollen eyes and he could see past everything—straight to her soul. “I love you,” she whispered then closed them again.

*

The gusty wind
rattled the windows as an early morning storm rolled through. Jessica peeled open her eyes to look at the time. It was a few minutes after ten in the morning.

“Well done, Jessica,” she mumbled to herself.

Her vagina had been dreaming of Dr. Luke Jones for months. The less than zero percent chance felt like a life sentence behind a chastity belt.

Naked. They were naked in the shower, a one hundred percent chance of sex.
Sex
with the man who had become the pinnacle of her life’s purpose.

“Stupid!” She sat up, letting the towel and blankets fall from her body. “Jesus, Jessica! You’re so stupid!”

An internal grimace tugged at her conscience and gave an upper cut to her ego knocking it back into last week. She had cried, actually cried. Why couldn’t she have simply spread her legs and said thank you very much?

Jessica grabbed her clothes and headed to the bathroom. The opposing door was open. Luke’s bag was packed and set by the door. The quilt and pillows were neatly folded by the headboard and the dirty sheets were piled at the foot of the bed. They looked more folded than wadded. Of course Jones would fold dirty sheets. Wadding probably made him visibly cringe.

She showered and packed. Almost an hour later she swallowed her pride, which was virtually non-existent by that point, and headed downstairs. The soft voices faded into silence as she rounded the corner.

Luke and his parents were sitting at the table with coffee mugs and kind smiles.

“Good morning,” Felicity shot Jessica a quick wink.

“Hi. Sorry I overslept. Kinda rude on my part.”

“Not at all. It’s the weekend and you worked your butt off yesterday.” Tom nodded to the empty chair by Luke. “Have a seat, we’ll get you some breakfast. Coffee?”

Jessica nodded. “Thank you.” For the first time that morning, she allowed herself to look at Luke.

“Good morning,” he said without a single inflection in his voice or the slightest clue on his face that the previous night ever happened. “I think we should head out after you eat. I have a few things to attend to when I get back.”

“Yeah, sure.” She smiled, letting her eyes linger on him as she sat down.

She ate while Luke and his parents talked about the renovation, his siblings, and other random topics. The hey-so-you-two-almost-had-sex-last-night topic never came up. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Had she dreamed it? How could he not give her the tiniest hint of acknowledgment?

“I’ll grab our bags.” Luke deposited his coffee cup in the sink as Jessica finished the last bite of her omelet.

“I packed some goodies for you two to take on the road.” Felicity held up a bag.

“Thanks, Mom.” Luke took it from her and kissed her on the cheek.

When he took the bags out to the car, Felicity drew Jessica in for a hug. “He adores you.”

Adore. It was an interesting word choice. Could Dr. Mind Fuck
adore
her? Unlikely.

“Thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you come back.”

Another unlikely.

“The sailboat offer still stands.” Tom lifted his coffee cup toward Jessica and grinned.

“Absolutely.” She smiled past the lie.

They pulled out of the drive with his parents waving at the front door. Jessica waited for Luke to speak as the GTO tore down the paved road. When the silence became too torturous, she broke it.

“About last night …”

“Yeah, there’s nothing to say. It was an error on my part. I apologize.”

It felt like a knife being lodged into her stomach. How could he say that? If almost having sex was an error, she hated to think of what having sex would have been in his mind. Then there was the whole professing her love to him.

“I wanted to make you bleed as much as I didn’t want to make you bleed.”

“I know.” He kept his focus on the road.

“I can’t remember the last time I
didn’t
want to make a man bleed. It felt like progress in a very painful way.”

He nodded. One. Cold. Single. Nod.

Jessica wasn’t in the mood to beg. Groveling was a pathetic behavior she saved for extreme circumstances. She tipped her head back and enjoyed the best part of the trip—the cherry red GTO.

Luke wasn’t kidding when he said there was nothing to say. Neither one spoke a solitary word the rest of the way back to San Francisco. She unfastened her seat belt before the car came to a complete stop in front of her place.

“See ya around.” She jumped out and waited with her arms crossed over her chest as Luke retrieved her bag.

“Jess—”

She snatched the bag from him. “No … don’t start now. If there was nothing to say three hours ago, there’s even less to say now.” Taking the stairs two at a time she fled to the safety of her home.

Jessica slammed the front door shut and waited. Waited, of course, for Luke to knock on it because she was certain he would … but he never did.

*

A sleepless night
expedited the delivery of Monday. Jessica worked until noon, grabbed lunch, and made a quick dash across town to take another test. Some days her quest to become an actuary seemed insane, and the Monday after the Jones’ weekend qualified as one of those days.

Exiting the building, brain exhausted, she checked her phone, coming to an abrupt halt which earned her a few expletives from the person who bumped into her back.