33 - Jocelyn
~ 33 ~
JOCELYN
There was something off about him, I knew right away. It could’ve been his eyes, which seemed too far apart from his nose, or the way he kept licking his lips, which were dry and cracked. Or maybe it was the way he said ‘finally,’ as if he’d been waiting his whole life to meet a woman he didn’t know, and who knew nothing about him in return.
“I’d heard you were beautiful,” the man cooed, attempting a smile. “But they didn’t tell me you were this tall, this drop-dead gorgeous.”
I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. I wanted to take my hand back and wipe my palm across my pants, to get the clammy off it.
“Umm… hi.”
He had small hands, small ears. Greasy black hair, looking so uniformly dark I knew it flowed straight out of a bottle. Those offset eyes scanned me in a way that took quick inventory, rather than convey admiration. Shit, even his voice was broken and creepy. Just like his lips.
“I’m not sure why I’m—”
“Victor said you wanted to meet me,” Jacob croaked.
“He did, huh?”
“Yes,” he replied, his grin growing wider. He licked his lips again. “And so here I am.”
I turned to consult Victor, but Victor was gone. The spot he’d been standing only a moment ago was nothing but tall grass now, blowing in the wind.
A cold feeling of utter dread washed over me. And I still didn’t have my hand back.
“I—I’m obviously pleased to meet you,” I started, lying through my teeth. “And maybe later we can get to know each other better. But right now, I’ve got to get back to the house. I’m needed in the kitchen, where—”
He interrupted me with a full belly laugh. In the middle of it, I somehow took my hand back.
“Emily, please,” Jacob snorted. “You’re with me, now . None of that matters.”
“But—”
“Come on, seriously?” he asked, and not without a measure of blind condescension. “We’re here alone, on this beautiful island, in this beautiful place. And you’re worried about dinner?”
I noticed he’d taken a step closer, in the middle of talking. Now he took another. If the distance between us was already uncomfortable, it was growing unbearable now.
But not for him.
“Why do you think Victor brought you out here?” he challenged. “To shake my hand?”
I took a faltering step back, increasing the space between us. And then there it was: the telltale frown.
“Emily, Emily…”
Jacob Foley made a clicking sound with his tongue that only heightened my revulsion. He moved forward again, this time with surprising speed, and I took another step back.
“You obviously came here for a reason,” Jacob theorized. “And we both know what that reason is.”
I shook my head, and even put my hands up. But he only kept coming.
“You know it,” he growled. “I know it…”
His expression had changed now, almost completely. Gone was the friendly, placating smile. In its place was a look of hunger, lustfulness, even ownership. But it was the look in his dark, dead eyes that chilled me to the absolute core.
“If you want to get back quickly, you still can,” the man hissed. “We can do it quickly. In fact, I prefer it.”
I stepped back yet again, countering his every forward movement. In a moment of panic however, I realized I’d put my back to the lake.
I was running out of room.
“Nothing else to say?” the man teased.
The serenity I’d enjoyed while jogging the lake was working against me now. I considered screaming, but we were too far from the house. Too distant to hope anyone might hear my cries for help.
Besides, I didn’t want to give this asshole the satisfaction.
“The quiet girls always want it rough,” the man whispered, huskily. “Do you like it rough, Emily?”
“NO,” I said loudly, thinking the volume and ferocity of my refusal might give him pause. Unfortunately, it didn’t.
“Well, you will after this…”
He lunged, and this time his hand closed over my wrist before I could pull away. His grip was surprisingly strong. I fought to take my arm back, but he only twisted it behind me. When I felt his hot breath on my neck, I was hit by a wave of revulsion.
“You can fight it if you want to,” he growled. “But it’ll only make it longer.”
I kicked back hard, catching him in the shin, causing him to cry out in sudden pain. In a split second of surprise and outrage, he loosened his grip, and I was able to twist free.
“BITCH!”
Jacob Foley was doubled over, clutching his leg, cursing under his breath. His grunts of pain were sweet music to my ears, even though my wrist felt like it was on fire.
I was enjoying the satisfaction of his agony, when all of a sudden, he disappeared.
What the hell?
It happened in a blur of motion, and a muffled thud. When I looked again, the man was a good twelve feet from where he’d been standing, flat on his back, his face redder than the ripest cherry tomato. And that’s because someone was repeatedly punching it, and it was now covered in blood.
“Andre!”
I screamed in joy and relief. Andre was on top of Jacob Foley, raining down so many clenched fists his arms looked like a cartoonish blur. I don’t know where he’d come from, or how he’d gotten here. All I knew was that I’d never felt happier or more grateful to see anyone, ever, in my entire life.
My joy was dashed however, as Andre suddenly cried out in pain.
“Jocelyn get back! He’s got—”
The man bucked him off, and Andre rolled toward the lake. To my dismay, I saw that he had one hand clamped over his side. His fingers were splayed. Fresh blood was welling up between them.
“AAAAHHHHH!!!”
I didn’t think, I acted. Which was good, because if I’d taken a moment to look, I might’ve hesitated at the wickedly-curved blade Jacob was now holding. He never had a chance to use it on me, because I was already barreling toward him. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I launched the full force of my weight directly into the center of his chest.
“Unngff!”
I hit him so hard I actually felt his ribs crack, followed by a hiss as the air left his lungs. He lost his footing immediately and we fell backward together, my hands scratching and clawing at whatever my nails could find.
But he was strong — much stronger than I’d anticipated. What the man lacked in stature he made up for in sheer girth and hard muscle. He flexed, I yielded, and in just a few seconds, he was rolling me onto my back and pinning my arms to the cold, wet ground.
Spittle now foamed against the cracked lips that were just above my face, further adding to my list of woes. I screamed as his hands squeezed my wrists, twisting left and right, but there was nothing more I could do. He was simply too strong. Too filled with adrenaline, and bloodlust, and whatever else was consuming him in the heat of the moment.
My attacker’s eyes flared. There was victory in them…
And then just as abruptly, those eyes went wide with terror.
I blinked, and saw two thick arms wrapped around the man from behind. One of them had slid tightly beneath his chin, like the tattooed coil of some giant boa constrictor. The other was locked over the first arm, clamping it tight… squeezing the breath — and life — out of the Founder known as Jacob Foley. He struggled savagely for a few more seconds, clawing and pounding at the blood-stained arms that were depriving him of the last of his oxygen. Eventually though, his eyes unfocused. His arms fell back to his sides, limp as noodles.
I stared into the fierce, wild eyes of my savior, his arms so tight they were actually shaking.
It was a disturbingly long time before he finally let go.