Now he had no idea if she was dead or alive. She’s disappeared the same night he’d escaped and hadn’t been heard from since.
“Anything else?”
Somehow her hand had crossed the island and was now resting on his. He turned his so their fingers tangled together, her warmth seeping into his cold, lonely soul.
“I also learned how depraved one human can be to another.”
Images crowded his head but this time he didn’t ruthlessly push them away. Tightening his grip on her hand he allowed them to float in front of him one by one, hoping that familiarity would eventually take away the pain of remembering.
“They hurt you terribly. I can see it in your expression.”
He swallowed hard, his throat tight. “Yes. They weren’t shy about using pain to coerce me to talk.”
Her hazel eyes were bright with unshed tears. He shouldn’t have told her. She was too soft-hearted, too innocent of the things he’d seen even before he’d been captured. “I’m sorry that happened to you but I’m glad you escaped. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Steepling his fingers, he rested his elbows on the countertop. “Okay? I’m not sure what that means anymore. I can function day to day and do my job. I don’t jump and climb under furniture when I hear gunfire, so that’s a positive. I’m not looking over my shoulder paranoid about the world. So I guess you could say I’m okay. There are people walking around a lot more fucked up than I am. Maybe everyone is…in their own way.”
“But you can’t sleep?”
Jason rubbed his chin and tried to smile. “You’re not going to let this go, are you? I can’t sleep because it’s quiet and dark.” He hopped up from the stool to rinse out his cup, not wanting her to see how this subject could still mess with him. “They held me in an underground cell. There was no light except a strip of sun that would come in during the day. At night it was pitch black. And quiet. So fucking quiet. It made the waiting seem like it went on forever.”
Those few weeks in that cell had felt like a lifetime. Even when he’d escaped he’d been afraid that it was all a dream. That reality was the prison and freedom was a fantasy that he’d created as he slowly went out of his mind. It was strange how quickly sanity could desert a man when death and pain were his only companions.
Jason needed to shut the hell up but she’d opened the floodgates with her gentle questions and sympathetic tears. Those tears were trailing down her cheeks, her hand covering her mouth in horror. If he had any fucking sense he’d stop talking and send her to bed.
But he wasn’t all that smart. Not about this.
“It got to where I could tell who was coming by the sound of their shoes on the dirt and stones. It was a good thing to know. If it was one of the men coming to take me for interrogation I could prepare myself mentally. Or maybe it was just someone who would walk by my cell to another poor bastard. While I was there I heard them take away three people that never came back.”
He’d been waiting for that day. Knowing it would come. The only question was when and how they would finally kill him and put him out of his misery. The electrical shocks. The beatings. Funny how the thing he most remembered was being thirsty. It seemed like he could never get enough water. It explained why he now had a case of bottled water in the refrigerator and another in the pantry. He kept extra bottles in the truck. He never wanted to be caught without it.
“God, Jason.” The words seemed torn from Brinley’s throat. He was ashamed that he’d said anything. She hadn’t done anything to deserve to carry this shit around with her.
He abandoned the cup in the sink and came around the kitchen island, pulling her into his arms, her body trembling with emotion. He was humbled to be with a woman who could feel that deeply for someone other than herself. “Hey, no crying, sweetheart. It’s over and done with. The past. I’m alive. That’s the only thing that’s important.”
He brushed at her damp cheeks and she nodded, blinking away the tears. “I know you haven’t told me half of what happened to you.”
And he never would. He’d already told her too much. “What happened isn’t important. I’ve learned to live in the present. It’s just some nights it’s tough, that’s all.”
“That’s when you sit outside and read, isn’t it? I’ve seen you when I couldn’t sleep too,” she sniffled.
“If I’d known you were awake I would have invited you over for a movie marathon.” Jason wanted to lighten the atmosphere that had grown between them. He didn’t want her feeling sorry for him. He sure as shit didn’t feel sorry for himself. It was his own damn fault he’d been captured.
Jason finally got a smile in return, albeit a tad watery. “Now you know. I’d love to watch movies with you.”
Jason looked down at the canine sleeping at his feet. “What do you say, Huck? Should we pop a movie in and see who falls asleep first? My guess it will be the dog.”
“I think you’re right. What movie should we watch?”
It didn’t matter. She’d taken her pill and would be asleep before long. Maybe he could sleep as well with her beside him and the noise of the television in the background.
“Pick anything out you like,” he offered, tucking a blanket around her as they settled on the couch. “I’ll even watch a chick flick.”
She rolled her eyes and chose Weekend at Bernie’s but the movie had barely begun before her head drooped onto his shoulder, fast asleep. Jason listened to her even breathing as her palm settled on his chest, right over his heart. Like it belonged there.
This woman had wormed her way past all the defenses he’d so carefully erected around him, knocking them over effortlessly. Jason didn’t know her well but already she was important to him. She meant something, although he had no clue exactly what. Or even if he was in any shape to find out.
But he liked her.
She made him laugh and she made him think.
When she touched him her fingers felt like flames licking the flesh and made it hard to breathe.
Lust or something else didn’t change the mission.
Keep Brinley Snow safe. And alive.
Chapter Ten
‡
Brad Enright was everything Roger Gaines wasn’t. Handsome, fit, tanned, charming, and successful. From the little Brinley knew of Roger it was difficult to imagine the two men being friends. They seemed to have nothing at all in common.
“How long did you know Roger?” Jason asked as they settled into Enright’s large and extravagant office. Dressed in an impeccably cut blue suit, expensively styled dark hair, and diamond cuff links, Brad was the epitome of the prosperous businessman. Their research had revealed that the dealership had been in the Enright family since the 1940s with Brad taking the helm a few years ago when his grandfather retired.
Showing off blindingly white teeth, Brad smiled as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and settled into the huge black leather chair. “Since kindergarten. The teacher put us in alphabetical order and there was no one in the class who started with ‘F’. The rest is history. Of course I haven’t seen much of Roger these last few years. I’ve been busy here.” Brad picked up a glass statuette from his desk and held it up proudly. “We’re the number one dealer in luxury automobiles in the state of Montana. Say, what do you drive? You know your vehicle says a lot about who you are. What statement do you want to make, Mr. Anderson?”
“I’ll have to give that some thought,” Jason answered smoothly when Brinley might have stomped on the man’s shiny black shoes. He seemed awfully happy despite losing a close childhood friend. “So you’ve known Roger since kindergarten but you haven’t spent much time together lately. When was the last time you saw him?”
Brad sat back and gazed off into the distance for a moment. “I guess it was about six months ago. My daughter had her second birthday and Roger came to the party.”