Chapter Ten
Maura
He kisses my neck below my ear and hands me a pencil. “Tell me about your day Saturday.”
I study the blank page in his sketch pad next to the one with his hair clasp designs. Pencil in hand I automatically draw a snowflake.
“It was pretty normal. I’m a teller and making cash transactions isn’t all that stimulating. But most of our clients who come in are older people. It’s their day out and they always want to chit chat. I don’t mind. I’ve known most of them my whole life. Mid-shift I got a text from my father telling me to meet him at the salad shop after work. He wanted to talk to me about a charity event he was thinking of doing. He had me send him my email so he could shoot me his thoughts.”
“He doesn’t have your email?”
“Jax, you know him or at least of him. Remembering my email would take effort. Although I know his secretary has it. An hour later I get a worthless email saying he wants me to spearhead a charity event for the old people in town. What are my ideas?”
The expression on Jax’s face says it all. “I know, he’s clueless. He’s just trying to find ways to turn his reputation around. Most of the businesses he’s backed lately have fallen flat. His brothers have left town and are quite successful in other parts of the country.”
“What did he say when he met you?”
“He didn’t show. Again, not a surprise. While I was waiting, I did get an email from the company I design for. They wanted to know if I would be in town over the weekend. They had a photographer passing through and he was supposed to stop and get a couple shots of me for their website. They wanted to know where he could meet me on Sunday. They also asked for three more spring designs. That was exciting.”
“Did you answer them?”
“Yes. I gave them the name of the coffee shop I usually go to on Sunday’s and the time. My apartment is small, and I like sitting outside and working when I can. The weather was still decent. They said he’d message me when he got to town.”
“Which coffee shop?”
“‘Muggs Up’, of course. My friend Maizie owns it. It’s only been open a few months but come tourist time it will be the hot spot. She’s talked about it for years. I love picking my own mug from her selection and their coffee is the best. You know the little area they have in the alley that’s covered? It’s perfect for people watching and sketching. During winter months she has heaters so it’s still cozy.”
“I haven’t been there. I’m not in town much,” he replies. “I’m not a real people kind of guy. Crowds can make me intense.”
“You’re going with me after this blizzard. You’ll love it. Oh, I know the perfect mug for you. It says, ‘I’m not just carving out time; I’m whittling it away’. ”
“Funny girl. Did you ever get a message from the photographer?”
“No.” Rolling my shoulders I feel a tension headache coming on. Jax taps his sketch pad with his thumb drawing my gaze to his beautiful drawing. “I like the Irish reference, but the butterfly is so delicate.”
“I’ll make you both, but you have to pick which one you want first.” His thumb taps the drawing I’m making for him again. “Did you order your coffee?”
“Yes, and I got my favorite mug. They only have a couple of each design.”
“Which one is your favorite?”
My pencil hesitates for a second on the paper and I clear my throat. Glancing over my shoulder, I meet his eyes and grin. “Art is an Orgasm.”
He chuckles. “That might be my favorite, too.”
“They have two.” Shifting the pencil in my hand, I continue. “I was so engrossed in my designs I didn’t even remember ordering a second coffee.”
“Are you sure you ordered it?”
“I must have because I remember finishing mine and then having another in front of me. It was my mug. They wash the same one and refill it unless you ask for a new mug.”
“Cute concept. So did you finish the designs?”
“I—I don’t remember. I started feeling queasy.”
My head is suddenly throbbing. Warm hands cup my shoulders.
“It’s okay, babe. I’ve got you. You’re safe with me. Put the pencil down and look at me.”
He kisses my forehead, then my eyes. “I want to kiss you so much. I want you to know that I will always protect you. That you are safe with me.”
“Jax, I really want you to kiss me, too. Please.”
He’s gentle, not tentative, just gentle. His lips are warm and full against mine. I expected the brush of his mustache to be coarse, but it’s soft. The way his palm cups the side of my face is soothing.
“You are so beautiful, Maura. So strong and brave and smart. I shouldn’t do this but I need to taste you again.” His lips find mine.
Then he holds me against his chest. His heart thunders under my palm. When the beat finally slows, he leans back and brushes a thumb over my cheek. “I need you to do something for me. It’s going to be hard, but I need you to look at the sketch you made. Tell me if that’s the man who hurt you.”
Some might say Jax tricked me. But I know he gave me the strength I lacked to confront my enemy. I study the sketch book. “He’s blonde and lanky. His strength surprised me. He doesn’t have muscles like you. His eyes are dark, almost black. Emotionless.
“His voice was… mesmerizing, hypnotic in the beginning. I couldn’t turn it off. He sat down across from me and handed me two tangerines and told me to eat them. I just did it even though they didn’t taste good.”
“I think he drugged your coffee which would have made you more susceptible. The fruit was probably tainted as well. What else do you remember?”
“He shoved everything into my backpack and led me out through the opposite end of the alley. We walked across the park where there was a family restroom, I think his car was parked behind it. I tried to fight him and grabbed his beanie off, that’s how I know he’s blonde. He shoved me against the wall, and I hit my head. I was already groggy. He was furious.”
“Did he touch you? Hit you?” Jax’s snarl rumbles in his chest.
“No, he said mean things but didn’t touch me.”
“What did he say?”
“I… he told me I was fat and ugly. No wonder I couldn’t catch a husband. Then he took me to a car and strapped me in the front seat.”
“Do you know what kind of car? Did you see the plates?”
“I’m sorry Jax. I—I didn’t.” I can’t hold the tears back any longer.
“Shush, babe, don’t cry. Don’t cry. I got you. It’s okay. I’m here.” He stands with me in his arms and carries me to his chair. I straddle his hips, and he holds me against his chest as the tears stream down my cheeks and onto his shirt. A long time later I realize he’s rocking me from side to side, crooning, and rubbing my back.
“I need a hanky.”
He pulls one from his pocket and hands it to me. When I’m done, he kisses my forehead.
“Can you finish?”
“I think so.”
He restarts the recording.
“Can you describe the vehicle?”
“Big like a truck but more of an SUV. Black and so were the windows. It was parked near the restroom. I don’t know how long he drove. I started getting sick and he rolled a window down. He was furious that I was throwing up. I didn’t realize we were on a mountain until he forced me to get out and walk. He used some kind of whip or branch to smack my legs to keep me moving. I don’t remember much except trudging forward and being cold. I’d worn a dress to the coffee shop because the email said the photographer would want nice pictures of me.
“The throwing up must have helped because I wasn’t as groggy when we stopped. He pushed me to the ground. I tried to crawl away. He laughed. He pulled out an ugly looking knife. I thought he was going to stab me, but instead he forced me to take off my dress then tied me to the tree and walked away.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
“At the coffee shop, he had a very expensive camera hanging around his neck. Not one that you see often around here. I think he may have followed me to the restaurant the night before. I’m pretty sure I saw the same camera hanging off a coat hook on the side of a booth. It’s a Canon EOS 400. I know because I’d love to have one but they’re out of my price range.”