Chapter 20
Josette
Fear.
The emotion was ugly and demanding, feasting on every aspect of current life just as it had done in my past. I’d fought valiantly to rid myself of the anger and terror of being found, the nightmares that had plagued me for months after leaving everything I’d ever known.
With the earlier attack, it was all coming back to me, breaking through the padlocks and forcing me to face the past. Real monsters did exist and all of them seemed to be wearing tailored suits and driving fancy sports cars.
A maniacal laugh pushed up from my throat. Now I was comparing the attributes of various cold natured beasts disguising themselves as decent human beings.
The floor was my haven and had been, the only place I’d felt safe.
It was a symbol, at least according to the single psychiatrist I’d bothered to see years before.
Here I was again, sitting on the cold, hard floor.
Only this time in a stranger’s house. Although Sinclair was much more than just a stranger.
I leaned my head against the cabinet door, staring up at the ceiling. A scorpion tattoo. While Sinclair hadn’t offered any explanation of why my recollection was useful, I could tell he’d expected or even hoped the answer would be the one I’d given him.
It hadn’t been the tattoo I’d seen on the man that had bothered me. The moment butterflies had found a permanent home in my stomach and my pulse had skyrocketed had been because of the necklace the strange man been wearing.
The same dagger with a diamond-encrusted handle I’d remembered from years before. The same one Zane had worn and so many others in his little clan. Or cult. Or whatever he’d wanted to call it. Young men believing they were allowed by their birthright to rule the world.
Their group had grown significantly over the years, at least from what little had been written about them, stories told by tenacious reporters.
After I’d fled Savannah, I’d tried to pay attention to the snippets of articles and their increasing power before finally deciding that emotionally, all I’d been doing was allowing Zane some continued sense of control over me.
Then something had come over me only a couple of years ago and I’d searched for any recent articles. There’d been none. I’d taken it as a sign I was free.
But what exactly had I thought I’d been free of?
Now I found it difficult to believe the mystery man’s sudden appearance in my coffee shop was simply coincidental. No, he hadn’t said anything, but he hadn’t needed to. That I hadn’t felt comfortable enough to mention the detail to Sinclair meant I couldn’t trust him.
Or that I was fearful of what he’d do.
Or maybe even worse, I wouldn’t mind if he hunted them all down.
I tapped my head against the solid wood, groaning at my ridiculous thoughts.
Seeing him gunning down so many people without any hesitation had caused a strange combination of fear and awe.
In the end, I’d cheered him on.
Despite everything that had occurred, my skin had tingled from his touch, my heart hammering from the closeness and wild charge of electricity we continued to share. I knew deep down inside that I couldn’t just ignore my feelings for him. The taste of his lips stayed on mine.
The lingering scent of gasoline and smoke, gunpowder and his exotic aftershave was powerful in a way that I’d never be able to explain to anyone. I found it evocative, keeping the goosebumps flicking across my skin.
A nudge from Indiana’s head reminded me he wasn’t interested in my daydreaming but in the treat I’d discovered in the nearly empty fridge.
“Here you go, my beautiful baby. A little cheese always makes everything better.” I was sitting on the floor in the kitchen, enjoying being at Indiana’s level.
In truth, I was also uncertain I could stand without swaying or falling.
For all the bravado I’d shown before, my defiance constantly amusing Sinclair, I felt puny.
There was no other word for it. Other than maybe lost.
Indiana was still shaken, although the pup had been a brave soul, suddenly becoming a guard dog after being my emotional support for years.
My valiant furry hero. The way he’d lunged from the shattered window had been amazing and I was still shocked he hadn’t been cut to ribbons on the thick, broken glass.
When the first bullets had started to fly, two hitting the driver’s side of Sinclair’s Charger, I’d thought for certain none of us would survive.
When the asshole biker had started driving a sledgehammer against the window, I’d screamed at the top of my lungs, even considering bolting from the other side. But the craziness of fires and bikers circling Sinclair and his men had kept me petrified.
But the moment I’d been yanked from the window, I’d fought with everything I had.
So had my little furry monster.
Until the big bad hero had come to save us. I pulled off another piece of cheese, laughing at the way Indy was looking at me. I wasn’t giving him the delicious treat fast enough.
“I know, baby boy. Here you go. Take the last of it.” I certainly had no appetite. Maybe a drink would calm my nerves. What if Zane had found me? What importance would I hold to him today? It wasn’t like I was anyone of importance. There were too many questions and too many fears.
I’d been prepared to kill the bastard for daring to touch my baby. At least Sinclair had beaten me to it.
“So this is the famous Indiana Jones.”
The sudden sound of a deep voice put the fear of God into me. I jerked up and without hesitating or even thinking, I whipped a knife from the knife block, pointing it at the stranger.
Indiana was on his feet, barking at the stranger as well. He even had his teeth bared.
My mystery guest seemed shocked I was brandishing a weapon, even raising his arms in surrender. He quickly glanced down at Indy, lifting a single eyebrow.
“Sinclair mentioned you were a handful. I think I’ve met my match.”
My knuckles were white, my grip so firm on the handle. It took me a few seconds to realize he looked entirely too much like Sinclair. Very slowly I lowered the knife. “You must be Jaxon.”
He nodded, still uncertain I wasn’t going to slice and dice him given I continued to hold the knife in my hand.
“Indiana, it’s okay. He’s a friend. I think.” I returned the knife to the block, but my hand was still shaking.
“Don’t worry. Sin isn’t entirely certain what to call me either.
Other than ‘hey kid.’” His smile was much wider than Sinclair’s, his blue eyes not nearly as cold and unforgiving as his brother’s.
When I remained hovering against the edge of the counter, he rubbed his palm on his jeans, sticking out his arm.
“I guess I should formally introduce myself. Jaxon Prince, the youngest and obviously the most handsome of the Prince brothers.”
While I shook his hand, I wasn’t interested in pretending as if everything was normal.
His smile faded. “Rough crowd. Is the big furry monster friendly?”
“As long as you don’t piss off his mother.” I folded my arms, uncertain why I was reacting to him so strongly. There was nothing threatening about him. He appeared as if he’d just rolled out of bed, his hair tousled and his half-buttoned shirt untucked. He was even wearing loafers without socks.
Not the look of some crime boss.
I on the other hand must look a fright. I still had specks of blood on my arms and I could only imagine how smeared my makeup had become.
My dress was all but ruined and as soon as I remembered I wasn’t wearing any panties, I tugged on the material since the dress was a little shorter than I normally wore.
Jaxon wasn’t paying attention or was being gentlemanly. And I was being rude.
“Yes, Indiana Jones is usually a pussy cat. But his number one job is to protect me from unwanted visitors or men intending me harm.”
“I’m not sure about him being a pussy cat. Cool name though.” His laugh faded into being hollow when I didn’t respond. “O-kay. I can see you’d prefer to be left alone. It’s late. If you want to try and get some sleep, I’ll be downstairs waiting until Sinclair gets back.”
I debated how to react to him and sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not normally such a bitch. It’s just been a long few days.”
He chuckled but was studying me closely. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”
“Yes, you can. You live this life every day. So does Sinclair. So does your entire family. I don’t understand how, but who am I?
Just a normal girl living a typical life while the Prince family lives in guarded luxury.
I have one question for you. Maybe you’ll give me a straight answer.
How is it that you don’t feel like you’re living in a prison? ”
I remained unblinking, uncertain how I was supposed to act around him.
“I tell you what. I’ll swap you a tall glass of whiskey for an answer. Is that a deal?”
“You and your family always love deals.”
“Ah, I can see my brother has been at it again. Well, we are businessmen. Contrary to my brother’s actions, we honestly settle more issues with a ballpoint pen than we do a weapon.”
He was uncertain how to handle me. After another scrutinizing look, I smiled in a sly way. “I’ll take you up on that deal and raise you an entire bottle if you’d like for answers to all my most burning questions.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“You have no idea.” This time, I threw out my hand for a shake.
Which he accepted, but not without a slight hesitation.
“I’ll grab a bottle of wine. I’m certain you know where to find Sinclair’s liquor.” At least the man had kind eyes.
“Unfortunately, I do.” He half laughed. “That’s a story I won’t tell you.”
“Why unfortunately?”
“Because Sin and I have enjoyed tying one on more than once. Much to the chagrin of my aching head the next morning.”
“I think I might like you, Jaxon Prince. Certainly more than your arrogant, brooding brother. But don’t tell him I told you that.”