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Chelsea faces the man, grasping his offered hand in both of hers. “Thank you so much for coming, Calvin.”
I simply nod at the man, glad I don’t have to pretend to be anything other than my grouchy self.
The instant Harding leaves, the act is over, and all the crew begins to clear out. The caterers have already cleaned up and left, and Sadie and Aaron only remain long enough to help take down the extra cameras. As Chelsea and I walk the pair out, Aaron says, “You both did great work tonight.”
Chelsea hangs her head. “I’m not so sure.”
“Trust me,” Sadie commends her colleague. “You did.”
I close the door behind them and pause to brace a hand against the frame.
Chelsea stands behind me, holding the metal mask she wore over her real one. I close my eyes, still picturing that bastard doing his best to seduce her and Chelsea playing along. The sounds and images drive me batshit until I’m in danger of losing it for real.
Unbidden, Caleb’s advice comes to mind. Dominate her. I guarantee it’s her biggest wish. A few moments with Chelsea over the weeks seem to back up his theory, further weakening my resolve.
Before long, jealousy and desire fuel a hunger that gnaws at my insides, bordering on obsessive. I’m unraveling, dangerously close to following through with my son’s suggestion, consequences be damned.
Chelsea steps forward and lightly touches my shoulder. “Jackson?”
That timid whisper snaps the tenuous control I was holding onto. I slip the mask back onto my face and speak to the door, voice strained and slightly unhinged. “Run.”
Chelsea freezes as if she doesn’t understand my growled command. “What?” she repeats cautiously, but I’m too far gone.
“I. Said. Run.”
I spin around, and Chelsea’s eyes widen at the mask and my eyes behind it. “What…what’s wrong with you?”
My laughter is chilling, even to my own ears. “Wrong with me? I’ve spent the last two hours watching that dipshit steal your attention and little touches that should be for me alone. Whatever patience I had is wiped out. You’re mine, and I’m through waiting.”
“Jackson, you_”
With a death grip on the door handle, I cut Chelsea off. “You’ve got one minute before I move from this spot. Then I’m coming for you.”
The woman stands paralyzed, her mind blown. Fine by me. It’ll make her easier to catch. Still, I need her to make a conscious decision. “Chelsea, time’s ticking.”
My warning spurs her to action, and Chelsea finally moves. I stop her with one last word of caution. “If I catch you, I won’t stop. We both know how good you are at hiding. That means if I find you, you wanted me to.”
Chelsea
Jackson’s vow and face behind that mask have crashed my whole system. When I fail to move, the man looks down at his watch and threatens, “Fifty seconds.”
The growled warning jumpstarts my fight-or-flight instinct. I drop my mask and take off toward the lanai. One problem. I don’t know where the hell I’m going. There’s only one place on this property I could hide that Jackson wouldn’t make good on his threat, and that’s the guest house filled with his teammates.
My shoe catches on the hem of my dress during my escape, nearly taking me out. I pause long enough to remove the heels and bolt through the open glass wall. With the pool and cliffside before me, my only choices are to go left, right, or back inside.
A tall fence blocks the left side of the house. On the right is a gate that opens to the driveway. I dart around to that side, hoping it isn’t locked.
The gate swings free when I thumb the latch, and I nearly tumble to the pavement on the other side. I’m home free now but don’t know where to go next. The guest house is only a hundred yards away, Chelsea. Why the hell aren’t you already halfway there?
“Good question,” I whisper before crouching behind a rose bush.
Thinking my time has to be running out, I summon the will to begin working through a plan. I‘m a Marine, after all. Hiding in shrubbery goes against my training. I rise from the shadows, lifting my dress to avoid another tripping incident.
At the front corner, I look to the right at the guest house and safety. I take one step toward shelter, swearing under my breath before changing course and tiptoeing toward the front door.
A peek through the sidelights shows the foyer to be empty. Fortunately, the door is unlocked. I ease it open and slip inside, pausing to listen for Jackson. He’s turned all the lights off, so I’m stuck feeling my way around.
Just enough moonlight reflects off the terra cotta tile to keep me from breaking my neck as I ascend the stairs. Jackson knew I wouldn’t run for protection, so he’ll come this way as soon as he clears the back of the house.