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Chapter Eleven
JETT IS VERY predictable. I knew this question was coming. I can’t keep going with Renee. Even Travis knows that is not true. Good thing I’ve already come up with another name. I won’t give my real name, so I need to say this one with confidence. With his security background Jett might be able to tell when I’m lying.
Looking him dead in the eyes, I respond, “Emily.”
Never taking our eyes off each other, he responds, “I like Emily. It doesn’t fit you though.”
“I don’t think Jett fits you either,” I shoot back, raising my eyebrows. “I guess sometimes our parents miss the mark with our names.”
“You don’t like Jett?” He pouts.
“No, I like it. It’s very sexy. But it’s too simple. And I think you are a man of many layers.” It’s how I truly feel, but I hope my explanation gets him away from questioning me about my name anymore.
He ponders this for a while and nods his head. I pick up the deck and deal the next round. We continue playing for a couple of hours with many questions. Some answers are lies, some aren’t. I try to not lie and just be vague. Like when he asked where I was from. I didn’t see a problem with saying Texas. It’s not like he is going to be able to hunt down an Emily in Texas. I’m also sure he made his answers as vague as possible, too. Seems he has a lot to hide, as well. I’m not sure how productive this game has been for him because I know the point was to find out more about me for Travis. It has been fun though. Something to pass the time. Something to keep my mind off how close we came to doing something we should not be doing. I’ve never been this attracted to a guy before, where a simple touch shocks my whole body into submission. I have to blame the situation for my feelings. Must be Stockholm Syndrome. This isn’t reality. This isn’t me.
“Thank you for this…” I look at Jett still sitting on the bed. “I know your job right now is to babysit me, but you’ve made my imprisonment a little less boring.” I don’t quite know what to say. I’ve only been here two days, but it feels like a week. My emotions are all over the place between Travis and Jett.
“Well, I’m glad I could bring a little excitement into your boring life.” Jett lets out a loud laugh. He leans toward me on the bed and whispers, “I don’t know where you came from or why you’re here, but I wish we had met under different circumstances.” He shakes his head before grabbing all the games and tossing them back in the bag then puts them on the table. He comes to my bed with the handcuffs and the look on his face tells me he doesn’t want to do it. I just hold my hand out, knowing what has to happen.
“Me, too,” I whisper, not sure if he heard me. What is with meeting beautiful men at the most inopportune times? I lie down on the bed, tired from my emotional day already. I fall asleep dreaming of a certain beautiful man with emerald green eyes.
* * *
My dream quickly turns to the day of my mom’s murder. I’m transported back to sitting with my mom, eating brownies, and talking about my first breakup. The doorbell rings and I run and hide. She opens the door and I hear the gun go off.
NO!
NO!
NO!
Don’t leave me again! She can’t leave me. The man looks around, and I look right into his eyes. Emerald green eyes. Eyes that I know. He leaves in his car.
Mommy, please, get up! Please, get up! Mommy! Someone, please help me!
“Emily, wake up! It’s okay. Shhh… it’s a dream. Wake up, sweetheart.”
I’m being held in a warm embrace as I finally leave the hell of my nightmare. I look up and see those emerald green eyes and jump back.
“Get the fuck away from me!” I scream. I’m shaking and can’t make it stop. All I can think about are those eyes.
“Emily, look at me,” Jett commands, but I can’t. “Emily, please let me help.” I shake my head no.
“Please, leave.” I pull the bedspread over me to warm up my freezing body and add a safety barrier between Jett and myself.
Jett gets up and leaves. Turning before he gets to the door with a look of concern.
Once he’s out of the room, I do my breathing exercises that my therapist taught me whenever I relive that day. I haven’t had that nightmare in over ten years. I don’t doubt that my morning talk with Travis is what caused this, but why did I dream that Jett was the one who did it? I know it wasn’t him. He told me he was twenty-eight; he’s only five years older than I am. Now that I’ve calmed down, I feel horrible. It’s not like I can explain my dream to him, though. I’m burning up now, so I throw the comforter off. It’s still light outside, but the sun is sitting low in the sky so I can tell it’s early evening.
After a quick visit from Joe and his partner so I could make a trip to the bathroom, I’m back on the bed, handcuffed. They left as quickly as they came in. I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to do this. As long as I’m handcuffed to this bed, there is no way I am getting out of here. At least I feel safe with Jett around, which might be his plan… get me to feel safe and trust him so I open up. The safe part, I feel. The trust part won’t ever happen.
Realistically they can’t keep me here forever. Why the hell am I still here? What does Travis want from me? Jett will eventually get tired of babysitting me. If Travis’s plan isn’t to kill me, I need to earn their trust that I really won’t run when given the opportunity. I’m hoping my chance to escape isn’t too far away though. I need to get as far away from Travis as possible, and soon—before my heart betrays me and decides to let Jett in.
Chapter Twelve
Jett
“WHAT THE HELL JUST happened?” demands Travis when I walk into his office. I had been in a meeting with him when Joe came running in saying our guest was screaming at the top of her lungs.
