Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Three days later
Amy
Pain.
It was all-consuming, taking over my entire body. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. If I had to guess, I'd say everywhere.
God, please make it go away.
“Jane? Talk to me, hun. I need you to keep your eyes open.”
Jane? Who was Jane? Was that me?
I felt the lightest of touches against my hand, but even that hurt. I tried to flinch, but nothing happened. I couldn’t move.
“No, Jane. Don’t close your eyes. I need you to stay with me. You’re safe here.”
Safe?
Was there any such thing as safe? Did this woman honestly believe that?
“Jane, how old are you?”
Since the woman seemed to be talking to me, I assumed I was Jane.
How old was I? I didn’t even know. Nothing made sense.
I had no idea why my brain wasn’t connecting the words with my mouth. I was trying, but no matter how much effort I put into it, nothing was coming out.
“Jane, this is important. Tell me how old you are.”
Why wouldn’t my mouth work? I didn’t understand it. I tried to lift my arm, wanting to tell the nurse that I couldn’t talk, but nothing happened.
I could feel the panic setting in, a bubble of anxiety building in my chest. What was happening to me?
“Jane? Honey, I need you to relax. It’s going to be fine. Jane? Jane? Doctor, she’s losing consciousness.”
I bolted upright in bed.
I was soaked in sweat, my heart beating like a bass drum at a rock concert, breaths labored, hands trembling.
“Only a dream,” I whispered into the dark room, my voice shaky, a chill racing over my clammy skin.
Technically, it was a memory, but the good news was, I wasn’t having to relive it. Not the excruciating pain I'd endured, anyway. I wasn’t battered and broken, barely clinging to life.
Not anymore.
Willing my heart to stop pounding, I slipped my feet over the edge of the bed and onto the hardwood floor.
It took a second before my legs were steady enough to hold me up.
When they were, I went through the house and turned on every light, punching the air conditioner down a couple of notches to cool myself off.
The clock on the microwave told me it was 4:47 a.m.
“Looks like it’s time to get up,” I muttered to myself, one arm snuggly wrapped around my middle as I sipped water from the glass I'd left on the counter when I went to bed five hours ago.
My stomach grumbled a warning, and I remembered I hadn’t bothered to eat the night before.
Ever since I'd received a hang-up call two nights ago, I hadn’t been able to stomach much of anything.
I had a pay-as-you-go phone, so no one knew the number.
Well, no one other than Reagan and Donna, because I had put the number on my job applications.
Surely they wouldn’t call and hang up. Would they?
No. Of course not.
My anxiety was at an all-time high. Didn’t matter that the call was probably just someone who realized they’d gotten the wrong number. My imagination had turned it into a dozen worst-case scenarios.
The dream certainly hadn’t helped. It brought the memories of that long-ago night to the forefront of my mind.
Not that they were ever far away. I remembered it like it was yesterday.
Sometimes my bones even ached. My jaw, both wrists, all the bones in my left hand, my left clavicle, both bones in my lower right leg, three ribs…
all had been broken and then repaired, but still had the ghost ache from time to time.
The beating I'd taken that night should’ve killed me.
I figured that was the reason he had dumped my body in the ditch.
Fortunately, a flat tire had caused an old man and his wife to pull over to the side of the road, just a short distance from where I'd lain broken and barely clinging to life. Had the wife not gotten out of the car to help, had she not seen me lying there, had they not called an ambulance, I wouldn’t be here today.
I would’ve died in that muddy drainage ditch just fifteen feet from the highway.
Dropping onto the couch, I put my head in my hands.
The tears had long ago dried up, but the fear was rooted deep in my soul.
If he ever found me, I knew he would kill me without hesitating.
He’d tried it once. Although I had kept my mouth shut and never told the authorities who had come close to beating me to death, I knew he would want to silence me forever.
If the news of what he’d done, what he was capable of ever got out…
“No more.” I shot to my feet and stomped to the kitchen.
Thinking about it only made it worse.
I needed something to do. Something to keep me busy. I'd given my notice at the diner, and they said I was free and clear to go, that Donna would fill in temporarily.
My gaze landed on the paperwork I'd brought home from my interview with Wolfe.
I skimmed it over for the hundredth time in the past three days.
I'd gone so far as to put my first name and my address, my cell phone number.
However, the lines for my last name, social security number, and date of birth were still blank.
I needed to take the job. No way could I turn down that kind of money.
For one, it would give me something to do.
Plus, I wouldn’t be out in the open; I'd be safely hidden inside a building, not dealing directly with customers all the time. And, as a side bonus, I didn’t see how it could hurt to surround myself with men who didn’t take shit from anyone.
If I were lucky, maybe they’d befriend me, and should he come for my…
“Shower,” I said to the empty house, my gaze darting to the locks on the door, ensuring they were engaged. “Then I’ll go in.”
I could only hope Wolfe was still willing to hire me.
If not…
Well, I'd deal with that when the time came.
Wolfe
I had just plugged in the power sander when I heard tires crunching on gravel out front.
I glanced over at the coffeepot, realizing I hadn’t bothered to start it yet.
God help me if Lynx had shown up early. It was anyone’s guess when the guy would show up for work.
I rarely came in at six, but most of the time closer to seven.
Generally, Lynx strolled in at eight. He wasn’t known for punctuality, that was for sure.
Before I could get the coffee can off the shelf, the door opened.
“I’m makin’ it,” I hollered, not bothering to turn around. Time was of the essence here.
“Making what?”
The sound of her voice went straight through me.
I took a breath, then peered over my shoulder to see Amy standing in the doorway.
She was wearing jeans and boots and a form-fitting black T-shirt, hair pulled back in a ponytail, her bangs sweeping across her forehead.
She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.
“Mornin’,” I greeted. “Thought you were Lynx. Figured he was gonna rip me a new one if I didn’t have coffee ready.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. I noticed there were dark circles beneath the long fringe of her lashes. The woman looked tired and a little thin. Too thin.
“I can make that,” she offered, coming to stand beside me. She peered down at her clothes. “And I didn’t really know what the dress code was. I hope this is okay.”
“Perfect.” Literally.
Granted, I'd have to pay attention in the event she walked across the room while I was working. One look at her ass in those jeans and it was likely I'd cut my damn finger off.
“So, does he like it strong? The way he drinks it at the diner?”
I paused, staring down at Amy as I tried to understand what she was talking about.
She nodded toward the coffee. “Lynx. Strong coffee?”
I grinned. “Yeah. Stronger the better.”
When Amy reached for the coffee can, I released it, my fingers brushing hers in the process.
The slight touch had my breath shuddering in my chest. Her eyes flew up to meet mine briefly, but then she looked away quickly.
This time I didn’t see fear; I noticed something else burning brightly in her espresso-brown eyes. Interest, maybe?
“I filled out the paperwork, too. It’s in the car. I’ll … uh … I’ll get it to you in a bit?”
“Perfect.”
Looked as though my vocabulary had been reduced to a few words.
While Amy prepared the coffee, I unplugged the power sander—a safety precaution—then grabbed a few other things I'd need, set them out for when I returned. When she was finished and the pot was brewing, I nodded toward the stairs. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”
Amy’s eyes made a quick sweep of the room before she followed. “You’re the only one here?”
“Right now, yeah. My old man usually stops by on his way to the shop, but not quite this early. Who knows when Lynx’ll get his lazy ass outta bed. Some days he goes right to the store to check on things before bringing his happy ass on this way.”
It was clear the woman was on edge. Every minute of every day, if I had to guess.
Whatever it was she was running from, I wanted to eliminate it for her.
Rhys had been right when he’d accused me of being protective.
I wasn’t sure what it was about this one tiny woman, but I vowed right then and there that I'd keep her safe from harm.
As for keeping her safe from me … well, that was still to be determined.
I opened the first door we came to. “You remember this room. This is our office. No one’s usually in here, and if you’re lookin’ for anything, chances are you won’t find it.” I smiled sheepishly. “We’re not the most organized bunch.”
“I can fix that.”
I nodded, then closed the door and moved to the next one.
“This is a makeshift break room.” I pointed to the far wall.
“There’s a love seat, recliner, and a television.
Refrigerator’s over there. No sink, though.
But if you ever wanna take a break, you can hide out in here.
” I smiled down at her. “That is if Lynx ain’t asleep in the chair. ”
Amy smiled.
I closed the door and moved to the next one.