CHAPTER 6
He dozed off to sleep at some point during the night, lost in thoughts about Jessie. A light sleeper, he stirred at the sound of something subtle. A sound he couldn’t quite define until it became a much louder verbal struggle.
With his gun in hand, he moved quickly and stealthily down the hall. From where he stood, he could only hear one voice – Jessie’s. When he slowly cracked the door open and peered inside, he could see she was alone. It seemed that she was battling her demons through her sleep – another matter Blake knew something about.
At the side of her bed, he knelt down, his knee balancing on the floor. He was careful not to startle her – he knew better than to wake her abruptly from a nightmare like the one she was likely having. He had them, too, from time to time…PTSD, they called it.
He called out her name softly, maintaining his distance while at eye level. Waking to a frame like his in the dark, hovering over her, would certainly cause her panic. Her cries settled, and she began to stir, so he called her name once more.
Slowly, she turned her head his direction and opened her eyes, but he didn’t see the relieved response he expected, instead receiving one of fear and surprise when her eyes widened, and she breathed in a gasp that startled even him.
The arm that was tucked under her pillow, propping her head while she slept, came flying at him. Blake’s balance shook, caught by surprise from a full force blow to the head with God knew what. If it weren’t already dark in Jessie’s room, it would be now as he fought the dancing stars he saw, battling the total darkness trying to claim him.
While he grabbed his head and grunted in pain, Jessie hopped out of bed, with speed he didn’t know she had, and quickly swept her leg under him, taking him down hard…on his ass
.
“What the fuck, Jessie,” he shouted, still lying flat on his back on the floor.
In a combative stance with a look of fury, ready to strike at the slightest movement, confusion struck instead.
“B-Blake? Wh-what the hell are you doing in my room – by my bed
?”
“I heard you! Thought you were in trouble, and you were…but it was a nightmare.”
“Oh. Well, it wasn’t – you should’ve let me sleep rather than make me…kick your ass,” she said defensively.
He let out an exaggerated guffaw, caught completely by surprise that her defense was that it was his
fault.
“Make you
kick my ass? I was trying to help you – you’re welcome
! What the hell did you hit me with, anyway?” he questioned, rubbing his head.
“Uh...” She hesitated. “A backscratcher. A wooden
…backscratcher.”
“Why
do you have a backscratcher
…under your pillow?”
“Because a bat was too big, and a frying pan would be…weird
!” she reasoned.
He let out a surprised cackle. “And a backscratcher isn’t weird?”
“Would you rather I pulled a gun?” she deadpanned, to which he held up his hands in surrender.
“Touché,” he said, taking to his feet so he could turn on the bedroom light, while she plopped on her bed.
Joining her, he asked, “Why do you have a weapon at all, Jessie?”
“B-because. I, uh, live alone, and you always tell us to be aware and ready…for anything
.”
“In your own home?” he questioned.
“Well, you weren’t specific. I’m just being thorough,” she said confidently, pleased with the story she was delivering. “And it worked! Look, had to use it tonight, so…”
“Not on me! I’m not the bad guy from your nightmare, Jessica.”
She did it again, shimmied like a quick thrill coursed through her when he said her full name.
Regaining her composure and straightening her shoulders, she replied in a heated tone, “No, you’re not
the bad guy…you’re the jackass
who woke me and scared the shit outta me. I mean, who sits next to someone’s bed, in the dark, and stares at them while they sleep, Blake? That’s fucking creepy, even for you.”
“Cut the shit, Jessie. You’re deflecting. You know it – I know it – so tell me what or who has you so damn afraid and defensive.”
Blake was exercising a whole hell of a lot of patience with Jessie because she needed it, and this was no different. After a long pause, he offered her yet another opportunity.
“You can tell me, Jess.” he said softly.
Her eyes welled and turned glassy, threatening to spill over when her voice cracked on her barely there words, “Nothing, no one.”
“Are you – crying
?”
Instantly defensive, she swiped at her eyes quickly. “No! I don’t cry! Jesus, Blake, what’s your problem. I had to…sneeze.”
“You didn’t sneeze.”
“My leg, it hurts…” she stalled, changing the subject, “Kicking you was like kicking a brick wall. It hurts like a bitch, okay? You happy? You hurt my leg!”
“Thanks for that, by the way. And it was all you…you
hurt your leg.”
Blake pulled her leg to his lap and felt around the already bruising shin. Feeling her in his hands left him with an odd sense of emotion he didn’t recognize – it had been too long. Given the way her shoulders did that subtle shimmy again, she appreciated his touch just as much as he appreciated feeling her in his hands.
When she winced in pain, he slid out from under her leg, resting it on the bed where he sat. “I think the bone’s intact. Looks like a hemorrhage.”
“A what?” she questioned.
“Broken blood vessels, basically. Is it burning?”
“Yeah, but it looks like a bruise.”
“It is – a really bad one. I’ll grab you an ice-pack. Be right back.”
“Grab one for yourself – that eye looks ugly.” She snickered with a satisfied grin.
Jessie’s grin faded the minute Blake left the room and was out of sight. He had been right – it was another nightmare – the same
nightmare. She used to have them all the time in the beginning but managed to get them under control. Until two weeks ago when she found out her nightmare was back, and he began to haunt her sleep again.
He was out, released early for good behavior, which was a laugh. She wondered what constituted good
behavior when you’re a monster to begin with? How did one measure good
in a person that was anything but good, had no empathy, and thrived on pain and murder of others? Was he just less bad
and deserved a reward?
He was probably watching her house as she sat there in fear. He probably enjoyed watching her through the back windows, savoring the fear he
instilled in her as she slowly realized he had been in her house and discovered the fire he left her. It was like his calling card. When she woke up and saw an image next to her bed and heard a man’s timbre, her heart nearly stopped – it didn’t matter that the voice was familiar. She went back to that place…the place that had haunted her for the past ten plus years.
Jessie had a decision to make. To tell Blake or not to tell Blake? She heard him coming and needed to make up her mind and fast. Maybe he already knew, at least, that something was lurking. He was Blake – he knew everything, even when you didn’t tell him. As much as she hoped he didn’t know so he wouldn’t think less of her or worse, pity her…it would
be easier if he did. Living in her own personal hell, all this time, had been incredibly lonely; she was starting to feel the weight of her circumstance and would love some company to help with the load.
Who was she kidding? He knew something
was wrong, or he wouldn’t be there. He was Blake Cooper; he could find out anything about anyone – so it was only a matter of time before he figured it out whether she told him or not.
He kept asking her what, who, why…like he knew something. He asked if
she was afraid and what
was she afraid of. That frightened her, him knowing. She was
afraid. What would
he think – would he think less of her?
“Here you go,” he said, passing her an ice pack. “Keep it a little elevated, and the throbbing should lessen.”
He popped and shook his own ice-pack and put it over his eye before he turned to leave the room. “Alright, see ya in the morning.”
Quick to grab his hand before he got too far, she stopped him, not wanting to lose her nerve entirely.
“Blake…there is…something
.” She looked at their hands when he weaved their fingers together and sat next to her. “Someone
.”
He dropped the ice-pack from his face and gave her his full attention. While she struggled for her words, he waited patiently for her, willing to give her all the time she needed to find them.
“I, uh…I am scared of…someone
.” Her eyes met his, searching for a reaction – and to stall, uncomfortable with what she’d already said.
His expression was void of any emotion; she couldn’t read him or his steely expression. So, she returned her gaze to their hands, resting in her lap, unable to look him in the eye and tell him.
“It was a long time ago,” she began. “He, uh…went to jail for what he did…to me. It, uh…was pretty bad.”
Her eyes began welling again, and she looked anywhere but at Blake. This was even harder than she thought. Vulnerability wasn’t something Jessie did or ever revealed. It was probably as shocking to him as it was her for so much emotion to pour out, but she couldn’t stop. There was something a little freeing about having someone to confide in – who knew her secret or, at least, part of it.
As quickly as her gentle façade came, it went with a quick shake of her head – like it was a switch she could flip anytime she chose. She flipped that switch, and hardass Jessie was back.
“Anyway, I thought you should know. You know, why I’m acting so…needy and girlie.” She wiped her face quickly with the palms of her hands. “I…don’t really want to talk about…the rest
. Not right now, anyway.”
“Okay, I understand.” And he did understand…better than most. It was hard to face your demons, much less share them. It was like you were accepting them and letting them become a part of you – define you even. Suppress those memories and avoid the fear…it’s easier to pretend it never happened.
He stood once again, letting go of her hand, offering a rare smile, and headed toward his bed for the night, her couch. Before he passed through the doorway, though, he stopped and said, “If you ever want to talk about…whatever. You know you can talk to me.”
A loud rumble shook her house, causing Jessie to gasp in surprise. When Blake turned and saw her reaction, his heart pinched ever so slightly. He tried hard not to feel, ever, but she forced the issue more often than not, especially lately. She was petrified, going pale at the sound of the loud crack that followed.
Her shoulders relaxed, and she took a deep breath, relieved to hear the downpour of rain and hail that followed until the sky rumbled again.
“It’s just a storm, Jess.”
The clouds clashing and lightening crashing among the trees always came louder in the mountains than anywhere else, like you were closer to the stormy skies. It was the only thing about McKenzie Ridge that could force her to remember her past, no matter how far she’d moved away from her personal storm. A second rumble and sharp crack caused her to jump again.
The lights flickered before going out. The crash of lightening and glow of the moon trying to break through the cloud filled, night sky were their only light.
Blake moved closer, “Jessie…”
In a small voice she asked, “Can you…stay
? I mean, only until the storm…passes.”
Scanning the room, Blake searched for somewhere to sit because she didn’t need to ask him twice. He would stay with her through this storm and every storm she faced until he found her predator.
As if she was reading his mind and knew what he was searching for, she reached across her bed and pulled the blankets back. She lay down, flat on her back, staring at the ceiling while he carefully lay beside her, posturing himself just as she had. After a few moments of lying side by side on the bed in silence, staring at the ceiling, Jessie broke the awkward moment. She reached across her queen-sized bed, pulling the only pillow out from under Blakes head and placing it between them.
“Stay on your side of the pillow, or you get another round with my backscratcher,” she threatened in a menacing tone.
“You
asked me to stay – I’m not here to prey on your vulnerabilities
,” he retorted.
With an offended tsk, she laughed. “Vulnerab… Please
!”
“Why did you take my pillow, anyway? You have like three over there,” he chided.
She had a reasonable answer, or what she found to be reasonable. “Exactly. I sleep with three; yours is the extra.”
“And you couldn’t…I don’t know…sleep with two tonight and use your
extra pillow for this little,” he waved his hand between them over the pillow, assuming she could see his gesture in the darkness, and finished, “divider of yours?”
“Uh, no. I need three, or I can’t sleep. You don’t want to see me with no sleep. I’m an asshole. Basically, I’m doing you a favor. You’re welcome.”
“You? An asshole? Nooo…wouldn’t want that. I’ll just sleep without a pillow, but can I have –I don’t know – an inch or two of blanket, or do you need all of those, too.”
“Jesus, Blake. Of course, you can use blankets. What kind of host do you think I am?”
“One that doesn’t offer guests pillows…”
“You have a pillow,” she said, patting the heap of cotton between them. “Right here.”
“Of course, how ungrateful of me - thanks
,” he said.
Jessie shrugged, as if he could see her, “Forgiven…”
“Forgi…” He lifted his head to look over at her before shaking it in disbelief and lying back down. “Goodnight, Jessie.”
They lay in silence for some time, the bed shaking from her startle every time the sky cracked or rumbled from the storm. Neither was falling asleep.
“Hey…Blake?” she asked, in a quiet voice.
“Yeah?”
“You tell anyone about this, and you’ll need an ice-pack for your balls and…little buddy.”
“Little
buddy?”
“This isn’t about you or your ego, Blake. Go to sleep.”
He tossed his hands in the air, frustrated with her ridiculous threats and insults. Suddenly, the backscratcher didn’t sound so bad. It was Jessie…she meant everything she said.