Page 63

Willow

I shifted in bed, unable to settle despite the ethereal sex. Poor Jack was exhausted and snuggled into me, his legs tangled with mine like every night, and every night going forward now we’d declared our love for each other.

I wanted to kick my legs and squeal at the notion that Jack loved me. The world needed to know my lamb loved me . It was a luxury I’d never take for granted.

Even so, my bladder needed release, and my mouth was as dry as the Sahara. I untangled myself from Jack, eliciting mumbles of disapproval and an effort to pull me back. I kissed his cheek.

“I need a drink and a pee, lamb,” I croaked.

He smiled softly in his sleep. Fuck, I adored this man.

The loss of Jack’s radiator of a body sent goosebumps down my skin. I quietly moved to the wardrobe and pulled out Jack’s old university hoodie. I was making it my mission to wear everything Jack owned, then make him re-wear them to keep the smell.

After a quick wee, I glanced at myself in the mirror. Despite the pillow lines and my bedraggled hair, I’d never looked so happy. Love with Jack looked good on me.

I toed down the stairs. The dog’s heads rose as I made it to the entryway and I knelt, giving them obligatory good-boy pats.

The kitchen was lit by the warm light over the Aga.

The dogs joined me in a late night stretch.

I ran the tap for some cold water and stood in the silence of the kitchen, when I heard a creak and I froze.

It was an old house, so noises weren’t abnormal, especially the floorboards or doors, but I wasn’t exactly feeling secure with the silent threat of my ex-boyfriend looming.

Both dogs heard it and sniffed around the room, their ears pricked. Their attention was pulled to the French doors, which were covered with Venetian blinds. Outsiders would be able to see a light on, but never the activity in the room.

They growled at the doors, a foreign noise.

The hairs stood on the back of my neck as I tentatively joined them.

As subtly as possible, I flicked a slat to give me a view outside, my eyes darting around the pitch black garden.

The fact I could see nothing did nothing to reassure me, since I knew there was at least thirty metres of garden out there.

Suddenly, movement triggered the garden light, and a warm bright glow highlighted everything.

I held my breath, desperately seeking an intruder but came short.

The garden shed covered the back corner in thick shadows until a small white light lit up.

It was faint, as though dulled by something.

Slowly, it floated, proving itself to be a phone, especially when it was held up to a face.

The right side of a face lit up, highlighting an ear, a cheek, the glare of one green eye, and a familiar smirk.

For a moment, time froze as I peered through the blind and he stood there. He was so brazen, a haunted exhibitionist. A ghost, flitting between gates and into spaces he wasn’t welcome. Unexpectedly, the light disappeared, and the garden returned to darkness.

Everything happened all at once. The dogs barked in unison. I pushed away from the window with a gasp. The glass slipped from my hand and smashing on the floor, causing me to slip on the liquid.

I scrambled up through panicked breathing and stinging hands, but desperate to escape the kitchen and find safety.

I shot up the stairs, using bannisters to speed up and dashed into the bedroom to wake Jack. Misunderstanding the rude awakening, he grabbed my arse and grinned sleepily.

“No, Jack,” I grabbed his hand and pressed down on his chest instead. “Wake up, there’s someone outside.”

Jack’s eyes snapped open, his body jerking upright.

“ What?! ” He jumped from the bed, standing at the window to check the front of the house.

“It was the back. I was in the kitchen, and I heard a noise outside so looked through the blinds and—”

“Was it him?” Jack moved away from the window, pulling clothes on as he listened, frowning.

“I think so. I barely saw his face. It looked like he answered the phone because I could only see part of his face, but it looked like him?”

Jack sat on the bed, and I crawled to him, looking over his shoulder. He flicked through his phone and checked the cameras, with limited success due to the darkness. He cursed and dropped the phone to the bed.

“Are you okay?” I whispered.

“I’m annoyed.” He turned to me, placing a hand on my knee. “Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t know.” I deflated. “I hate that I’ve brought this to your door.”

“ Our door, Willow. We’re a unit. We should call the police. ”

I nodded and allowed him to dial. Keeping myself busy, I hunted for a first aid kit, fumbling with plasters. Jack found me on the bathroom floor wrapping my hand as he ended the call.

“Police are on their way.” He glanced at my hand. “What happened, sweetheart?” Jack pocketed his phone, sitting by me.

“It’s fine. I cut my hand when I dropped a glass.”

“Let me.” He took my hand and the antiseptic wipe in his. He placed a soft kiss to the cut. It was a sweet, intimate moment overshadowed by its cause.

When the doorbell rang, Jack opened the door, permitting two police officers to enter. They spoke with Jack, but I barely registered their names or efforts to engage with me, focusing on cleaning up the broken glass. The dogs paced and whined around me, sensing anxiety in the air.

“Sweetheart.” Jack broke me from my numbness, circling his arms around my waist. I flopped my head back against his shoulder as he nuzzled my neck. I breathed in his uniquely-Jack scent that always calmed me.

“Why does it have to go so wrong when we’re so right?” I huffed.

“It won’t be like this forever.” It was a promise neither of us could guarantee.

A throat cleared in the doorway. We turned to find one of the male police officers.

“We just need to confirm some information?” I nodded for him to proceed. “Mr Lambert mentioned the suspect was a previous relationship?” I nodded again, but he waited.

“Uh, yes. We were in a relationship for seven years. It was a coercive, abusive relationship that ended around six weeks ago. Don’t you have that on your records?” I suspected I was rude, but I was exhausted. He ignored me.

“And you’re in a new relationship?” He eyed my hands which were tightly woven with Jack’s.

“Yes.” I glared at him. “I’m sorry, does my new relationship make stalking and harassment suddenly acceptable?

Considering he fractured my ribs, eye socket, and forced a burning ring on my finger until I experienced third degree burns, I would expect you to treat this as seriously as it is, but I can see your priorities lie with my ex’s ego. ”

“So, what are you going to put in place to ensure our safety?” Jack interrupted.

“We’ll need a copy of the footage. A senior officer will be in touch in the next few days to discuss your options.”

“So, wait like sitting ducks? Are you honestly prioritising a dangerous man over the victim and her family?” Jack was quickly becoming as exasperated as I was.

“Is there anywhere else you can stay?” The officer plucked an idea from thin air.

“ No . This is our home. Can’t you provide some security?” Jack grit out .

“U-unfortunately, it’s not within the financial remit of the police to provide private security.”

“Oh, for fu—”

“Please can you just leave? We’ll wait to hear from someone else,” I interrupted.

Jack all but pushed them out the door. It was clear he was stressed, and I felt the heavy weight of responsibility.

“I’m sorry, lamb.” My forehead dropped to his back.

“I-I don’t know how to protect you, Willow. He’s not going to stop.” Understanding hovered between us heavily.

“We won’t let him. I won’t let him. I’m stronger than I was when he knew me. I’ve got so much more to fight for.”

He turned to me, curling his arms around me.

“I admire your optimism, sweetheart,” he mumbled into my hair.

“It’s okay if you can’t do this , Jack. I get it.”

He shook his head.

“Absolutely not. I’m man-enough to admit that I’m scared, but I’m not going anywhere. Apart from bed. We should definitely go to bed.”

He took my hand and dragged me upstairs, calling the dogs behind him, they deserved some love tonight.

Despite the furry guests at the bottom of the bed, and Jack’s body wrapped around me, whispering his love and adoration for me, guilt weighed heavily on my chest. Surely there was a limit as to how much drama someone could take.