Or run from him. Again.
But Annabelle was too happy to see him to do any of those things. Instead, she smiled and motioned for him to sit beside her. He did so. And, as he did, she caught the scent of leather and faint cologne. He smelled like sunshine and wind. So different from the air in the mall, which was stagnant with the smell of price tags and plastic bags.
Annabelle felt his presence at her side like a living, breathing brick wall. Large, sturdy, strong. Reliable for leaning on when you hadn’t the strength to stand.
She stared down at the tiled ground and waited for him to speak.
“I didn’t get the chance to thank you for saving my life.”
“Ditto,” she told him, softly.
Jack fell silent and she let the silence grow. It wasn’t that she wanted to punish him with a lack of words. It was only that she truly didn’t know what to say.
“I heard you got a present from your new shadow.”
He meant Adam. Adam Night. Her would-be protector; whether she wanted him as one or not.
Jack was right. Adam had left something for Annabelle. On her pillow. Under a pitch-black .357 magnum bullet.
She nodded. “A note.”
She knew he wanted to see it, so she didn’t keep him waiting. She pulled the folded parchment from her jeans pocket and handed it to him. He unfolded it and read aloud, his accent lending each word just enough of a British lilt that she could imagine it was Adam speaking instead….
“Nicely done, angel. You’ve earned your wings. I’ll be seeing you around. Signed, A.N.” Jack re-folded the paper and tucked it into his own leather jacket pocket. She didn’t fail to notice the confiscation. She figured there would be no arguing with him on the matter.
“We haven’t seen the last of him, have we?” She asked, softly, still not looking up.
“No.”
“Is he going to hurt me?”
“No.” There was no hesitation. It surprised Annabelle, so she finally turned her body fully toward him and cocked her head to one side. “How can you be so sure?”
He smiled, flashing those white teeth. “He and I have a lot in common, luv. That’s how I know.”
Annabelle thought about that and then asked, “He’s here right now, isn’t he? Watching us?”
Jack nodded. “You’ve got good instincts, Bella. They’ll serve you well in this Business.”
Annabelle blinked. She swallowed hard. “And… what if I don’t want….” She stopped, licked her lips, and started over. “What if I don’t want to be in this Business?”
It was a long time before Jack Thane replied. His blue eyes seared her soul as he considered her question and everything that it meant.
Annabelle felt as if she were waiting on hot coals. The world slowed in its rotation; time began to crawl.
And then, with quiet deliberation, Jack turned his body toward her and leaned slightly forward. “Then I will find a way to help you out of it, Bella. So help me God – if it kills me, I will.”
Jack’s Sheffield accent wrapped around Annabelle, the way it always did, providing a shielding barrier between herself and the rest of the entropy surrounding her. His words knocked the breath from her lungs – and filled them back up again.
She would never force him to make such a decision for her. She knew she was in the Business forever. But that he was willing to try – that he would be willing to put his reputation, his career, and his life on the line in order to win her freedom – meant everything to Annabelle.
She realized that she had been dying to hear those words. Not “I love you.” Not “Marry me.” Anyone could mutter such phrases. Jack, himself, had muttered them many times – to many women.
Annabelle had wanted something else from him. She wanted to know that he cared for her enough that he could truly let her go. Forever, if need be.
Those were the words she had needed to hear.
She found herself smiling, then, her eyes wide, a weight lifted from her shoulders.
And then Jack’s expression became more serious; almost concerned. “You all right, luv?” His voice and tone had both lowered. He draped his arm over the back of the bench and regarded her closely.
She grew warm under his sparkling blue gaze.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached up and gently cupped the side of his face in her hand. Jack blinked, stunned by the sudden contact. Annabelle took advantage of his surprise and ran her hand to the back of his neck. She shivered as her fingers brushed the silken locks of his blonde hair.
She pulled him toward her and leaned in to kiss him, placing the gentlest of kisses across his cool, dry lips. As she did, she caught another waft of leather and spice and the mint of his breath. Her stomach grew warm and tight and she pulled away with very real regret.
But when she looked back up at him, it was to find that his expression had changed. He was no longer only surprised. The blue in his eyes had made way for expanding pupils, and his gaze had darkened. There was a sudden aura about him now that made him appear hungry. Dogged.
Annabelle slowly sat back away from him, but she didn’t get far before Jack’s gloved hand was wrapping around her wrist. Slowly. Carefully.
But resolutely.
“Let me take you out of here, Bella.” He said.
Annabelle was taken aback; the heat in her body at once leaping to roaring, roiling life. She wasn’t certain whether it was even a question. But she was even less certain that she cared. She nodded, quickly, and Jack gracefully stood, pulling her up alongside him.
He laced his hand with hers and took off down the aisle. Somehow, he managed to steer her through the crowd without letting anyone else touch her. His tall, dark form seemed to beg deference. Women openly gawked. Men eyed him warily. But all of them got out of the way.
Within short minutes, Jack was pulling her through a side exit and into one of the higher, more deserted levels of the multi-leveled parking lot.
She had just enough time to realize his intentions and feel her heart jump up into her throat before she was up against a wall and jack’s hard form was pressed against hers. His lips whispered across her ear. “Do you forgive me then, luv?”
Annabelle couldn’t think. She could barely breathe. He was all around her, the scent of him, the feel of his hard edges, the sound of his voice. He was in her mind and she swore that if she made love to him a million times, she would never be able to do so with out hyperventilating.
All she could manage was a nod.
It was enough for him.
*****
In a dark stairwell a floor down, two teenage boys pushed through the exit doors and began taking steps two at a time. It was when they reached the eighth step and the middle landing that a tall man with black hair straightened from where he’d been leaning against the wall.
“You don’t wanna go that way, mate.” He told the boys, a strong Sheffield accent curling his words. The boys stopped in their tracks and watched him as he snuffed his cigarette out on the wall and then let it fall to the ground, where he casually crushed it under the toe of his boot.
“It’s occupied,” the man continued, flashing them a predatory smile. “So find another way around.”
There must have been something about the man – the way his ice blue eyes shifted so easily between them, or the casual grace with which he choreographed the snuffing of his cigarette. Or maybe it was his height and build and the strangely, dangerously soothing sound of his voice, with that accent that they’d so rarely heard.
They couldn’t have told you exactly what did it.
But whatever it was, those two teenage boys decided not to tempt fate that night. Instead of arguing with the stranger, they turned around on the stairwell landing and went the other way.
Adam Night watched them go and then chuckled softly.
With a sharp glance at the parking level above him, he shook his head, leaned back against the wall once more, and lit another cigarette.
