Page 28

28

JACOB

The next thing I know, I’m being shaken awake by Seth.

The sunlight spills through the window in the small room, alerting me to the fact it’s morning.

“I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep.”

“We left you to rest. You needed it.”

I rub my hands down my face to wake myself up.

“She wants to see you,” Seth says.

My body feels like pure static energy as we walk along the corridor. I want to run to her, not walk.

My phone is now completely empty of battery, so I push it into my pocket.

As soon as I get the opportunity, I need to find a phone charger and check if Owen has called me back. I’m praying he has. I don’t want to miss out on any more time with Skye.

Coming to a standstill, Seth pushes his hand out to open the door of the private room.

Buzzed to be finally getting to be with my girl, I feel like I’m a racehorse waiting to bolt out of the starting gate.

Before he twists the handle, he looks over his shoulder at me and says, “She’s had a little time to process what happened to her. She’s showered. She seems fine, but I know she’s putting on a brave face.” Worry etches across his forehead.

My heart pangs with pain for her. I wish I could take all her memories away from the last few days.

Seth glides the door open, and I’m greeted by an extraordinary sight.

The whole room is flooded in the sunshine radiating through the windows and sitting in the puddle of blazing light is my extraordinary girl.

“Jacob,” she gasps as tears free-fall down her face.

Unable to wait, I run to her and launch myself into her open arms, squeezing her, holding her tight against me, not believing she is here.

“Skye,” is all I can get out as my chest fills with emotion that I can’t even begin to explain.

I almost lost her.

“You rescued me,” she whispers, as she squeezes me tighter.

Nuzzling deeper into her neck, my hand at the back of her head, holding her firmly against me, I never want to let her go. I’m not waiting anymore; I want everything with her.

The time for us is now.

I don’t know how long we stay like this, but eventually, I pull out of our embrace and just look at her.

She’s here.

“You saved me,” she says again, resting her hands on my face, staring at me in complete disbelief. “You’ve no idea how close he was to… I can’t even begin to think about what would have happened to me if Walter hadn’t come in at that exact moment. Without you… I… I… you saved me.” Her voice cracks under the weight of her emotions.

I can’t bear to think about it but try humor to lighten the situation. “I didn’t save you, silly. I paid someone. Well, my father did. He knows how important you are to me. To all of us.” I look behind us, but Seth and Rhona have left us to be alone.

“He was like a man mountain version of James Bond.” Tears pool in her eyes.

“He was exactly like that. Walter’s a badass.”

“And you’re my knight in shining armor.”

“And you’ll always be my Butterfly.” I kiss her on the nose.

“How will I ever repay you?”

Marry me.

“You’ll have to put in some serious overtime at work.” I make a joke instead of blurting out what’s on the tip of my tongue.

She chuckles lightly.

“I’m joking. I want you to take as much time off as you need.”

“I don’t want to,” she argues.

“You are banned from work until further notice.”

Her shoulders fall. “Okay,” she reluctantly agrees.

Taking in her bruised face, I ask, “Does it hurt?”

She cups her cheek. “It did at the time.” She flinches as if remembering. “I don’t care.” She shakes her head as if breaking free from her memories. “I’m home, and safe. With my family, and you.”

Our eyes lock. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” she exclaims, her blue gems turning glassy. Sucking in a deep breath, as if to steady her voice, she stares down at the bed sheets as if reliving her ordeal.

She doesn’t need to say a word. I don’t need to hear what she went through or how horrible the experience was for her. It’s written across her face and I can read every second of pain she had to go through. I feel it as if it is my own and I hate that I can’t take it away from her or help her forget. I might have helped rescue her, but I can never turn back the clock and stop it from happening and I have to live with that for a lifetime.

In that moment, I silently pledge to protect her for as long as my heart beats in my chest.

“I thought I’d lost you.” I cup her face.

“But you didn’t.”

“I thought I’d lost you before we got our chance.” I still can’t believe she’s here and I’m touching her.

“But you didn’t.”

“You’re here.” I rest my forehead against hers, basking in our reunion.

Skye lets out a soft sigh as she gazes at my lips. “Now would be the perfect time to kiss you, but there are too many people around.”

“I haven’t brushed my teeth since yesterday morning, so maybe now is not the time for a kiss.”

“You’re a filthy pig,” she joshes with me, which I take as a good sign.

“An ogre,” I argue.

“With tattoos and muscles.”

“Exactly. I’m the underdog.”

“He always wins the girl.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so,” she murmurs as she bites down on her bottom lip, making her look adorable, despite the damage that psycho did to her face.

Holding her hand now, I lace our fingers together.

“More bruises,” she says when I rub the small vein on the top of her hand. “It’s where the IV was. Whatever was in that, it’s made me feel so much better.”

“How are you feeling? You can be honest with me, Skye.”

“They’ve said I need to see a therapist.”

“I would agree.”

“I don’t want to talk about any of it.” She looks out of the window.

“Maybe not now, but soon. You might be fine one day and then boom , it might hit you. It would be better to have some coping mechanisms and tools in place before that happens.”

She goes quiet for a moment. “You’re right and so smart.” Then she mumbles something under her breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Punching her clenched fist into the pale blue hospital blanket, she says, “I said, I feel stupid.”

“Why?”

“For speaking to him online, sharing things with him. I thought he was a girl . That, right there, was a huge red flag. I’m angry at myself for being so stupid. What was I thinking?” She rubs her forehead.

I can’t help noticing the bracelet bruises around her wrists. Thank fuck they will disappear. The last thing she needs is a permanent reminder of her ordeal.

“Hey, you think you’re stupid? I let you leave with him. I will live with that regret forever. However, I will do my damnedest to make it up to you. Every. Single. Day.”

“You didn’t let me leave with him. I left willingly.” She covers her whole face with her two hands.

I peel her hands away from her face. The face I want to stare at for all time. “Look at me.”

My hands in hers, being more serious than I ever have before, I say, “We can blame a lot of things, but please know you had no control over his thoughts or his behavior.” I reach out to trace the scratch on her cheek with my thumb. “I’m just so fucking happy you’re safe.”

I kiss her forehead again to remind myself she’s real. I’m touching her. I can feel her. She’s here and I’m never letting her go.

“I did the rape kit test.” Her voice is low when she says the words that make my blood boil. She should never have had to go through that. “I don’t think anything happened to me. I mean, I would feel it, wouldn’t I?” Her brows furrow as unspoken fear fills her face. I lace my fingers with hers and try to pour strength and support into her so she knows she’s not going through this alone.

“Whatever happened to you, we will get through it together, with your mom and dad, your friends, and whatever medical support you need. We’ll be with you every step of the way, and we’ll do everything in our power to make him pay.”

“He’s not getting away with what he did to me. I’ll make sure nobody else ever has to go through what I have.”

“You’re just like your mom. She’s an awesome little firecracker. Much bossier than me.”

“She is.” She smirks, nodding her head in agreement. Then she blurts out what’s on her mind. “What if he’s touched me where he shouldn’t have?” She dry heaves. Pulling her hand out of mine, she slaps it over her mouth. The bed sheets get thrown back as she jumps out of the bed and bursts through the bathroom door to vomit. Fast on my feet, I jump over the bed into the bathroom to help her. Not like her to have her hair down, I pull it into a high ponytail, and rub her back while she empties the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl.

I want to kill that motherfucker with my bare hands for making her feel like this.

“Oh gawd, I’m so sorry,” she coughs and splutters.

I pass her a tissue to wipe her mouth.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Thank you.” Shoulders hunched, she moves onto her bottom and rests her back against the bathroom wall.

“I don’t want to feel like this.” When she breaks down, I’m on the floor beside her, scooping her into my lap and enveloping her in my arms at the speed of a heartbeat.

Holding her firmly to my chest, I cradle her in my arms, just holding her as sadness and devastation engulf her.

I repeat comforting words over and over again. As I swaddle her, she buries herself deeper and deeper into my chest, until eventually her little sobs and whimpers subside.

Using her pale blue hospital gown to wipe her nose, she tilts her head back, leans it against my bicep, and looks straight into my eyes. “What would I do without you?”

“You’d have no one to talk to about the books you’re reading at lunchtime, and you’d be having to use a substandard backpack that was just plain ugly and so not Parisian chic.” I put on a fake high voice toward the end and roll my eyes mockingly, which makes her laugh.

“The police have my backpack as evidence.”

“I can buy you a new one. Now, let’s get you back into bed.”

We both move off the floor, her face now red and swollen from crying.

When I tuck her back into bed, she hooks her leg outside of the blanket and she says, “I always get hot feet. I like them outside of the covers.”

“Good to know.” I wink, then kiss the top of her head again to comfort her. I like kissing her; it feels nice.

“Would you like something to dri—” I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence as an out-of-breath, flustered Owen bursts through the door like a tornado.

“Oh my God, Skye. I’m so sorry, baby.” He runs to her.

I step away from the side of the bed.

“I’m here for you now. You’re safe. I’ve got you,” he says, puffing and panting, threading his arms around her, but she doesn’t hug him back.

Over his shoulder, Skye side-eyes me with a frown. “I’m fine, Owen.” She pats him twice as if he was a friend and then leans back away from him.

Moving out of their hug, he inspects her. “Look at your face. You’re not fine.”

“Owen. I really am fine,” she insists, swiping his hands off her face. “But please don’t touch me. I’m just a little tender in places.”

Keeping him in the dark, she’s not willing to share with him how emotionally fragile she is or the fact that she just broke down in the bathroom with me. And she certainly doesn’t want him touching her like I’ve been doing.

“I tried calling you over and over again, Owen. Where have you been?” I snap at him.

He finally looks over at me. “I told you I was going to Barcelona. I was busy, the exhibition was huge, and I was entertaining clients I met over there.”

That’s code for boozing it up and partying, no doubt.

“Too busy to listen to your voice messages?”

“I’m here now, am I not?”

Too little too late, Owen.

Owen defends himself. “If I’d known, I would have been here in a flash.”

“If you’d listened to your voice messages, you would have been here sooner.”

“I was working.”

“So you’ve said.” I fake-smile at him.

Skye’s gaze bounces back and forth between the two of us.

He turns his attention back to Skye. “I heard on the news that they got the guy who took you and that you met him online? When you told me you’d met someone, was that him?”

Not wanting to answer, she shakes her head.

Nope, Owen, that guy she’s met is me. Yup, I feel like a bastard.

“You work in digital media, Skye. You should have known. Don’t talk to strangers online, don’t give them your details, and never meet up.” He keeps pushing.

“Owen.” My voice rises in a warning. “Don’t do this now. Skye isn’t ready to talk about it.”

Looking between us, he raises his hands in submission and reluctantly agrees to stop.

A soft chatter behind the door emerges before it opens and in walk a much more relaxed-looking Rhona and Seth.

Owen rises from the edge of the bed.

A caring smile lines Rhona’s lips as she checks her daughter over. Are you okay? she mouths.

Skye yawns. “I’m just a little tired.”

“C’mon then, boys, let’s leave her alone.” Seth instructs us to leave.

Owen takes Skye’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’ll be back.”

I want to scoop Skye into my arms, tell her I love her and that I’ll be back, but I can’t.

As Owen and I begin to leave the room, Owen says, “You have a tattoo?” He points at Skye’s ankle, bending to get a better look.

For a moment, she and I exchange a look. I’m not sure what she’s thinking, but I know she doesn’t want him to see the watercolor bird symbolizing her and me when she tucks her foot back inside the bedcovers.

“It’s cool,” Owen comments.

Giving Skye a quick wave, I push my hands into my pockets and, with a heavy heart, exit the room.

“I’ll text you when I get my phone back,” Skye calls after us.

“Okay,” Owen replies.

I think that was meant for me.

The two of us, who usually have so much to talk about, walk back along the hall in silence. I’m likely to lose it with him if anything stupid falls out of his mouth.

“Jacob,” a voice calls from the end of the long corridor.

I stop in my tracks when Seth jogs toward us.

“I just wanted to thank you, personally, for everything.” He flings his arms around me in a giant hug of appreciation. “We wouldn’t have got her back without your help.”

As quick as the hug started, it finishes: prompt and to the point. Eyes full of emotion, Seth steps away from me.

“Owen.” He nods in a parting gesture, and he walks back in the direction of Skye’s private room.

Owen stares at me. “What did you do?”

“I hired a PI.”

“Shit. How much was that?”

At half a million, the money was never an issue. “Doesn’t matter how much it was. She’s back and safe.” He follows me when I take a step in the direction of the side exit but doesn’t say anything else until we’re outside. There are too many news teams and reporters hanging about outside the main entrance, all desperate to speak to Skye and her parents.

“Thanks for doing that.” He runs his hands through his blond hair.

“Well, someone had to do something,” I say through gritted teeth. I’m irked by his aloof manner.

“My father will pay your family back.”

“No need.”

“Skye is my responsibility.”

My head jolts back. “Oh really? Since when?”

“Since always.”

“You are fucking kidding me, right?” My blood boils in my veins. “Do you even know what Skye’s favorite movie is?” My voice is full of irritation.

He frowns. “What kind of question is that?”

“What is it?” I stand and wait for an answer.

“ Spider-Man .” He holds his hands out to the sides as if to say, what a stupid question .

My voice on the rise, I correct him. “It’s The Princess Bride . And what about her favorite book?”

“ Lord of the Rings ?” He looks confused.

“It’s the same fucking answer. The Princess Bride. ” I’m on a roll now. “Tell me, the night you were supposed to pick her up, to take her to the garage to get her car. The night you left her standing waiting for you in the rain, in the dark, where were you exactly?” I hold my pointer finger up. “In fact, don’t answer that. I’m not fucking interested.”

I whip around and stomp across the parking lot. If I don’t move away from him, I’m going to say something I regret.

“Jay,” he calls out; on fast feet he runs after me.

I don’t stop walking. “Jay,” he calls again, grabbing my shoulder to stop me moving.

He runs into my path, preventing me from getting to my car that Lincoln dropped off for me.

“What’s up, man?” he asks.

“What’s up? Christ, Owen. You have never cared about that girl. She’s always been your afterthought. She was abducted by a severely mentally disturbed man. She’s been drugged, had to have a rape test kit… do you know what’s involved in one of them? And all you said was nice tattoo , and she should have known better because she works in digital media. You should have just told her it’s all her fault instead, because that’s what you implied.” I run my hands down my face. “Fuck.” I’m mad now. “You’re an inconsiderate prick sometimes. Do you know that?”

“I do care for her.”

“How? Explain to me how exactly? Is it the fact that you have had me buy her every Christmas, birthday, and Valentine’s Day present or is it the way you took her to a Revolution concert when she doesn’t even like that band?”

“Yes, she does.”

“No, she doesn’t. She thinks they’re too shouty.” I should stop now before I say something I regret and I want to speak to him properly. Face to face, man to man.

Not like this.

“Jay,” he scoffs as he holds his hands up to stop me saying anything else. “You are clearly having a meltdown due to lack of sleep. I know you. When you haven’t had enough sleep or food you are one grumpy asshole. So, go home and sleep it off. Whatever the fuck this is.” He wiggles his finger down my body. He’s so fucking casual and blasé about everything.

“Whatever.” I stomp to my car. Over my shoulder, I shout, “I need to talk to you about something but now is not that time. Call me to arrange it.”

I pull my car door open with such force, I’m surprised I don’t pull it off its hinges.

Zooming out of the parking lot, I head back to my empty home, too far away from Skye, but not far enough away from Owen.