She turned in his arms, then stepped away from him. Juliet looked at P.J. with surprise.
“Babe, what else would you be thinking?” P.J. arched a brow. Then he added “Listen, before you bolt this time? Before you run away, can you do me a favor? What do you say we have some breakfast first? Because if you’re gonna have to find a way to leave me? Then I’m sure as hell gonna have to find a way to bring you back. And I don’t mind telling you, I’m not my best on an empty stomach.”
Juliet looked at P.J. stupefied. And although she wouldn’t have believed it possible given the last few minutes, she found herself giving in to a small smile.
“I could eat.”
Sitting across the table eating oatmeal and watching P.J. sop up the yolk from the half dozen sunny- side up eggs that he had prepared for himself, Juliet pondered the situation she was in.
“I want to know how you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“About my situation.”
“You mean how did I figure out that you’re in trouble?”
“Yes. But for the record, it’s more complicated than that.”
“And it only gets complicated when someone goes snooping around into your past? Is that right, Juliet?” P.J. took a sip of the thickly pulped orange juice, leaned back in his chair, and gave her his full attention.
“That’s right P.J. I’m safe as long as nobody goes snooping.” Juliet looked pointedly at him. “So, what was it? What was the tip off? I mean people move into new cities and towns every day. What was it about me?”
“It wasn’t any one thing.” He shrugged as he gave it some thought. “Honestly, most people probably wouldn’t have put it all together.”
“But you did.”
“Yeah, babe, I did. That hypervigilance thing you got going on? I have it too, it’s been kind of ingrained in me.”
“Because of your family? Because of who they are? What they do?”
P.J. arched a brow in question.
“I asked Layla about you, too.” Juliet felt a sudden sense of pride at obviously catching him off guard. “Then I did some research.”
“Should I be flattered?”
“Not at all.” She gave him a small smile. “Well, maybe a little.”
P.J. shook his head and wondered if he would ever stop being surprised by this woman.
“Well, you’re right. I come from a place, a family, where it’s important to see through the bullshit, straight through to the character of a person.” P.J. explained the best way he knew how.
“Your motorcycle club. The Hells Saints. You took over as president when your grandfather died. You were named after him, and that tattoo you have inked over your heart? That’s in honor of him. He left you a legacy. Hard men. Hard lives.” She said softly.
“Yeah.” P.J. nodded. “My legacy. My family. I loved the club. I still love the club. That sense of brotherhood, the power, the hunt, the tension, the race against the law. It was like a total adrenalin rush all the time. Being a part of that was like jumping off the highest cliff and knowing that whatever you did, where every you landed, someone would be there to break that fall.”
“And yet here you are, living life large in small town America?” Juliet puzzled.
“Yep, here I am.”
“That’s a pretty big change…” She pressed on for more details. Partly because she was sincerely interested in his story, and partly in an effort to deflect P.J.’s interest from her own story.
“Tale for another time, babe. We’re talking about you now, right? So, your question is how did I know that you were in trouble?”
“Let’s call it a situation.” Juliet interrupted. Because in trouble was not a phrase that Juliet liked to use to describe her set of circumstances. It seemed to her to be self-indulgent, and there were just too many layers, too many levels of the word. The girls and women that Kenny had killed had been in trouble. Being kidnapped and slaughtered by a madman meant that your life was in trouble. Juliet had been so much more fortunate than that. She had only been left to deal with the fall out and the guilt of those heinous crimes.
“Situation. Sure, we can call it that.” P.J. shrugged. “Anyway, I learned to read people, to look for things that would give me a feeling, an instinct about a person. And I know women who have been in your position before.”
“I seriously, seriously, doubt that. This is not what you think it is. Not at all.” And once again, the horror of her past reared its ugly head. Because Juliet knew what P.J. was thinking. She knew that he probably thought she was running from an abusive relationship, from a husband who beat her. How sad that Juliet wished that that had been the case.
“Well, then enlighten me.” P.J.’s tone had begun to shift. He seemed impatient, frustrated. “Because from the minute I met you, Juliet, that’s all I have wanted was answers.”
“But you never asked the questions.”
“No. I never asked because you never gave me the chance.” P.J. crossed his arms over his chest. “And besides, I knew you’d lie.”
Juliet remained silent because there was nothing to say. What P.J. had said was true. She would have lied to him then. And to Juliet’s shame, she knew that if P.J. pressed and probed her now, she would still lie.
P.J. knew it too…he saw it in her eyes, in the way she turned from him. P.J. felt a surge of anger rise within him. Because here they were, back there again. Back to that black, hooded, haunted place.
“Talk to me, Juliet.” He said in a voice that was strong…commanding.
Juliet’s eyes lit with conflicted emotion when she answered him. “I don’t know
