Gillian flushed, a look of fear darting through her eyes. “You may just come to regret it.”
Jack tensed, the threatening call fresh in his mind. Forcing a lightness to his voice he didn’t feel, he chuckled. “Naw.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I could never regret having you in my life, baby. Never.”
* * * *
The streetlight filtered through the blinds as Jack sat clad only in his briefs, his feet propped up on his desk. He stared at the growing number of calls from one number marked in red. Every day they came, every day he raced to answer them. Thankfully Gilli hadn’t answered a call yet, but there’d been a few misses. He’d noticed the more regular the calls got, the more Gillian tensed. She’d been plagued by nightmares. At first he’d figured they were of the accident, but he wondered if she’d answered one of the harassing calls.
He raked a hand through his hair, cursing the disembodied voice on the other end of the phone. Every day he noted Gillian’s habits were becoming more and more prominent. His house had never been so clean, the smell of lemon and wood filling every room. His floors shone, scrubbed by hand. He shook his head. He wished she’d relax, let go a bit, but he knew she wouldn’t. Old habits died hard, and for her, scrubbing everything until it shone was a mechanism she’d long developed. The cleaning didn’t bother him so much; her logic for cleaning, however, irritated him, and he cursed her mother for the millionth time.
With a curse, he tossed the calendar on the desk and rose. She still hadn’t told him why. Every time he went to broach the subject of why she had vanished, he got a timid, fearful look and she shut down. He didn’t doubt she knew something he didn’t, but he’d hoped she’d figure out he wasn’t going to just turn away from her. Bitterness nagged at him as he contemplated her reasons. Why would she run?
A memory stirred, something nagging, familiar and important, but he just couldn’t place his finger on it. She’d gotten a call before…
His train of thought was derailed by the faint sound of her cell. Trotting down the hall, he entered the bedroom just as Gillian opened the phone. A moment later, her face went white, the cell slipped from her fingers, and a terror-filled shriek filled the room. Screaming, Gillian struggled with the blankets.
“Jack! Jack! God, no, please, no, no, no, Jack.” Sobbing, Gillian all but fell from the bed half a second before he grabbed her around the arms. Screaming, fighting, he narrowly dodged her fists and feet as she struggled. “No. Let me go. Jack!”
“I’m right here, baby, I’m right here.” Jack wrapped her in his arms, his body winding around hers as she sank into him sobbing. “I’m right here. You’re safe now.”
Gillian clung to him, her body shaking like a leaf. “No, no, please. It’s not safe.”
“Shh.” Jack reached for the cell and lifted it to his ear. His blood ran cold at the thin, raspy laughter echoing over the line. Hanging up, he threw it across the room. “Shh, I’ve got you now, baby.”
“It’s him. I know it is, Jack. He said, he said…” Her voice broke on a fresh round of sobs. Her nails dug into his flesh as she tried burrowing into his chest.
Listening to her sobs, Jack could take a guess at what was said on her phone. And as soon as he verified who the bastard was, he was going to make him sorry he’d ever been born. “Lie down, baby, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m never going to let him hurt you.”
“He’s going to finish it. Why? Why didn’t I just keep my distance?” Gillian whimpered into his chest. “Why can’t they leave me alone?”
“Who? Gilli, who won’t leave you alone? Your mother? Do you think she’s somehow connected to this insanity?”
“It’s so hard, I don’t understand why. What did I do?”
“I don’t know, baby.” Jack kissed the top of her head. “But we’re going to find out. First thing tomorrow we’re going to call the RCMP and speak to them.”
“We have no proof of the threats.” Gillian hiccupped. “No evidence. We both know Michael may get away with it again.”
“Rest.” Jack rubbed her back in soothing circles as he stared at the ceiling. “We’ll figure it out. No matter what, Gilli, Michael isn’t going to get away with this. I promise you, I’m not going to let him hurt you again. You’re mine now, and I take care of what’s mine.”
* * * *
Jack sat next to Gilli on the couch, holding her hand as Rick took up the chair. He offered a gentle squeeze to her fingers as she crossed her ankles for the tenth time. Uncertainty bled into panic as the plain-clothed officer she’d met before began taking notes. “I’m not sure there is any connection at all,” Jack started. “But we’ve been getting some rather unpleasant calls lately.”
“What’s the nature of the calls?” Rick tapped his pen on the pad carefully.
“Threats.” Gillian shot Jack a quick glance. “Varying degrees of violence. Intimidation against me, against Jack.” Ignoring the stunned look Jack threw her, Gillian curled into herself. “I’ve had them before, but this time it’s different. I can almost feel the violence. He means it this time. Maybe he’s getting close to an early release. I don’t know, but I have no doubt—”
“Miss Hilliard, can you tell me who you think is responsible for these calls?”
“Michael. He, um, he’s locked up at the moment.” Gillian tugged on her hand, separating herself from Jack completely. Hands folded in her lap, she stared at the edge of the coffee table. “Mother goes and sees him. He’s always been her favorite.”
“Who exactly is Michael?”
“Michael Kilpatrick. Her ex-boyfriend.” Jack smiled weakly at her. “Gillian’s told me a bit about him, and
