I was glad Jonas hadn’t asked me to explain my fear of thunderstorms. I hated lying to him about the lightning, but I didn’t think he wanted to hear how thugs had hit the safe house my family and I were in, because they were trying to get to my parents, which caused us to assume new identities. Granted, I’d only been four or five at the time, but I remembered the flash of light and the sound of the explosions from the materials they’d used to blow open our front door, along with the high pitch of the guns.
I’d gotten over my fear of guns after some therapy and my parents insistence that I know how to use one properly to defend myself. However, I still hated loud noises, especially thunder.
I quickly put on yoga pants and a t-shirt, and then went downstairs, finding the kitchen empty. I began looking through the refrigerator and the pantry and decided on steak, potatoes, sautéed onions, and a tossed salad.
“Wow, something smells delicious.” Jonas’s words startled me, causing me to jump and, therefore, drop the tongs I was using to turn the steaks.
Catching my breath, I watched as he picked up the tongs and took them over to the sink to rinse them, before handing them back to me. “Sorry.” He offered.
When the heck had he come back into the kitchen? I didn’t know how to broach his stealth moves, but they scared the shit out of me. “You wouldn’t happen to know if there’s a small bell or something of the like lying around this house?”
His eyebrows furrowed. “A bell? What do you need that for?”
Using the palm of my hand, I playfully slapped at his chest. “For you, silly, to let me know when you’re in the area. You know you’ve scared the shit out of me twice now.” I held two fingers up in front of his face for added emphasis.
He swatted my hand out of his face. “Sorry. I can’t do anything right, can I?” I expected him to be playful, not remorseful. I’d definitely taken a step in the wrong direction with Jonas. Taking a deep breath in, he offered, “What if I announce that I’m entering the room to give you a heads up? Would that work?”
I looked back at the stove to check the status of the steaks and onions. I couldn’t face him head on, knowing I’d hurt his feelings. “Yes. I’d like that. Thank you. And by the way, you’re doing just fine. We’re not used to one another, so I think we should talk and figure out what our quirks are.” I hope that came off as sincere and not that I was trying to psychoanalyze him. Jonas had obvious issues; he might have thought he was hiding them, but he wasn’t. Then again, I had my own set of problems. The only way to resolve them was to work through them, something easier said than done.
I flipped both of the steaks in the pan, and then remembered I hadn’t asked how he wanted his cooked. “How do you like your beef?”
“Medium to medium-well is good with me. Thanks.” He looked deep in thought for a second, before asking, “How did you know I’d like steak?”
I cringed a bit, realizing I’d have to tell that I knew a little more about him than he knew about me. “Your sister loves to tattle on you. She’s always complaining that every time you visit her, Jackson, and the kids, she tries to cook you other things, but you continually request steak.”
Jonas’s smile reached his eyes for the first time as he broke out into a hearty laugh. I almost did a double take to make sure it was him. “My sister has a big mouth. I love Robin to pieces, but she’s not the greatest cook, so I always ask for steak, because she doesn’t seem to destroy them as much.”
Reaching around me, he grabbed the silverware and a couple of glasses. “What would you like to drink?”
I shrugged, not really caring. But now that I thought about it, that wasn’t true. I could go for something with a little alcohol in it to help ease the obvious tension that existed between us, along with the uneasiness this storm left me with. “Actually, I could really go for some alcohol. Anything you could recommend to go with dinner will be fine.”
I hoped we wouldn’t have to go through too many of these storms. My nerves were already on edge, and I was using cooking as a distraction to not think about my friends, about everything I’d seen, and especially not about the desire that was building inside of me to get to know Jonas better. He was a mystery, one I wanted to unravel, if only I could get through his defenses.
The meal was pleasurable. Neither one of us knew what to talk about, so we opted for a version of twenty questions. I was happy with the idea, as I wanted to ask so many things to understand Jonas better, but he quickly put some roadblocks in the way, stating we were able to decline answering up to five questions. So not fair!
The storm continued to rage outside, but, between the meal and the question game, its noise was almost inaudible. Jonas asked me the typical questions, starting with: “What’s your favorite color?”
I breathed a sigh of relief, happy to have a simple question. “My favorite color is a toss-up between royal blue and a medium shade of pink.
I countered and found out he enjoyed a lovely crystalline blue. What were the odds we’d share a similar taste in color. Girl, aren’t you paying attention? The color he mentioned is the same as your eyes. My subconscious mind was reading into the answer. It was possible he just happened to like that shade. Heck, the island was surrounded with water the same color.
Next Jonas asked, “Where did you grow up?”
I felt a little more at ease playing this game now. I answered honestly, given that most of Titan Security knew my family’s story. I guess Jonas didn’t have all the details yet, or didn’t care to know until now. “I was born on the outskirts of Atlanta, GA, but I don’t have much memory of my time in that state. I mainly remember my time in Crawfordville, a small town in the panhandle area of Florida.”
Being friends with his sister, Robin, I already knew he grew up in a small town outside of Austin, Texas, but I wanted to hear his response to see if he had happy memories or if he hated thinking about the past. His mournful eyes spoke volumes to me, more than any words could ever do. Note to self: his past was a touchy subject.
Jonas surprised me with his next question. “What do you like to do for fun?”
That was one answer I didn’t hesitate to discuss. “I read mainly. You name the book, I’ve probably read it, but I specifically enjoy an edge-of-your-seat romance packed with spine-tingling suspense.” I realized I’d revealed too much about myself the moment the words had left my mouth. So I amended, “I also like to watch a few movies—comedies, romance, and action flicks. Plus, I’m always up to trying something adventurous, anything to get my heart pumping.”
That question instantly led to Jonas asking another, not even giving me the option to ask him one. “What do you have planned for your next rush?”
My hand moved on its own accord, giving a playful tap to Jonas’s forearm. Geez, even there, he was hard as a rock. Didn’t this man have an ounce of fat on him? I wonder what he looks like naked. Nope, not going there. I quickly shook the thought off and forced my mind to focus on the subject matter despite Jonas being a mighty fine topic to focus on. “That’s easy,” I said playfully. “I want to try driving a racecar over at the speedway track in Daytona Beach. I first want to ride with an experienced driver, and then try it myself.”
I looked up at Jonas, since we were sitting side by side, and wondered if he’d make a remark about how dangerous it was. However, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: he was smiling like crazy and looked relaxed. He opened his mouth a couple times, and then looked away, before turning back and finally asking, “When this all winds down, would you mind if I tagged along for the drive? I didn’t know they had anything like that, so I’m kind of curious to see what it’s all about and maybe give it a go too.”
Pleased he wasn’t judging my crazy desires, like my sister and parents did, I answered, “Sure. It’d be nice to go do some of my wild adventures with someone who can appreciate them.”
We were surprised to learn we were both adrenaline junkies, needing that fix to keep us happy in life. Okay, now I was curious, so I inquired, “What kind of crazy adventures have you experienced that had your heart pounding like you were living on the edge?”
This was the key to get Jonas talking. I thought he’d only list a couple things, but twenty minutes later, he was still talking. “Let’s see, I’ve been to a shooting range, been in a paintball war against my fellow Titan peers, swum with whale sharks, gone skydiving, bungee jumping, base jumping…” His words filled my mind with all kinds of new ideas of things to try.
Despite Jonas’s words being exhilarating, the effects of the beer he’d found to go with our meals were weighing out. I tried staying awake, using my hands to prop up my head, while I listened intently to his tales of adventure. I don’t really recall the last thing he said, only the darkness finding its way into my mind.
“Alyssa, watch out!” I called out to her as I tried to reach her with one hand. With my other, I pushed my other friends back before jumping out of the way at the last minute as the vehicle headed toward us.
The screaming…the broken glass…my heart rate accelerated as I watched Alyssa take her last breath. There was no way to perform CPR, not with her neck broken and at such a severe angle. But hoping against the odds, I yelled out for someone, anyone, to help and call 911.
My mind spun to another scene, one of my youth. “Doniska, grab your sister, NOW, and head to the escape route we showed you.” My mom’s voice rang out. My father had already grabbed his handgun in preparation to defend his family. My mother grabbed what we needed to survive, along with her own weapon, before following us.
A blast blew through the area we’d just been standing in, blowing my father back away from the door. “Papa!” I cried out as tears streamed down my face.
The voice on the other side of the door had a strong accent. “We’ve found you, Ivan. You and your family will pay for what you’ve done. We will not rest until you’re all dead. Hide if you must; we’ll wait you out and find you.”
We’d hidden for so many years. Our names permanently changed. I would no longer be Lucia Annica Evonovich; that life ceased to exist. I would only be known to the world as Erica Ann Jamieson.
My mind shifted again, back to the recent past. I was visiting both of my friends in the hospital, but, needing air, I’d stepped out into the hallway, when a pair of hands grabbed me from behind, his hand over my mouth as he dragged me toward the elevator. “Don’t make a sound. I’m here to get you out safely. Your dad sent me.” Right as the elevator doors closed, sealing me in with my captor, my mind immediately woke.
I bolted upright in bed. My mouth was open, but no scream was coming out. I looked around in terror, hoping my heart couldn’t actually beat out of my chest. Why was I here? I took a closer look and saw the clothes the Titan Security people had given me, along with my own phone on the bedside table, when reality washed over me: everything I’d just dreamed about had really happened.
I placed a hand to my chest, held tightly to the covers, and began counting down from twenty. It was one of the exercises I used with patients to help them gain control over their emotions and to allow their heart rate and breathing to return to normal.
With my wits returning, I realized I had fallen asleep while Jonas had been discussing his harrowing tales of endangerment, and he must’ve carried me up the stairs and put me to bed. He really wasn’t as bad as he first appeared, more of an all-bark-and-no-bite scenario, very similar to my father’s personality.
I got up to use the restroom, and then went to look out the faux window. I figured the imagery would be as dark as night, but instead, I was met with crystal-clear views. Did this thing have night vision built into the cameras? I’d have to make a point to ask Jonas in the morning.
Speaking of Jonas, I crept into the hallway to see if he was in bed. His door was slightly ajar, so I looked inside. I didn’t know what was going on with him, but he was lying in bed and moved first in one direction, then another, mumbling something like, “It’s all my fault. What have I done?”
I could tell he was in the midst of a dream or a nightmare. I wasn’t sure which, so I leaned against the doorframe and listened in. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t sleep, and, if I wanted to be truthful, I was starting to care for him as a friend, possibly more.
Several minutes passed before he started to settle. Turning around, I headed back across the hall. I hadn’t even made it into my room when Jonas yelled out, “Everyone take cover; we’re under attack.” After that, his words were inaudible, but the high pitch of his scream was deafening. I’d seen this very scenario in clinical rotation when we were assigned to the sleep labs of military personnel suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Any attempt to wake him while in the throes of the dream could cause bodily harm to each of us. I knew I couldn’t touch him, or he might try to punch me. Trying to shake him awake would cause a similar reaction.
All of the sudden, I remembered what one of the doctors had done. I stayed in the hallway, but kept a line of sight with Jonas as I yelled out. “Soldier, on your feet, front and center.”
To my surprise, the tactic worked just like it had at the sleep center. Jonas shot out of bed and was on his feet saluting, as if I were a superior officer. His eyes were wide with fear as he looked around the room, until they landed on me. With a scowl crossing over his face, his hand dropped away from his forehead, and he relaxed to some degree. “Not funny, Erica.” He reprimanded.
“Sorry. You were screaming at the top of your lungs and shouting out orders.” I looked down at the floor, as I was suddenly embarrassed after noticing he only had on boxers and a formfitting shirt that outlined every rippled muscle on his chest, arms, and stomach. Swallowing hard, I continued, “I…I…I didn’t want you hurting yourself or me.”
As I turned to go back to my room, he grabbed my arm, swinging me around. His face looked puzzled. “What are you doing up? Can’t you sleep? The storm passed a few hours ago.”
I tried to shake off his grip, but it only tightened. “Ouch. You’re hurting me.”
He finally let me go but stepped around me to block the door to my room by standing with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not budging until you answer my question.”
Throwing both hands up into the air and stomping my foot, I finally answered but only to try and get this big goon to move. “I have nightmares when I close my eyes. I can’t sleep, or at least, I can’t stay asleep. I need to either be doing something or—”
Jonas moved his finger over my lips to silence me. His face had softened. “I get it. We’re going through some similar issues. Since you have the bigger bed, would it help you fall asleep if you had someone close by?”
Was this a test? Of course I wanted him in my bed; just look at the man. He was built like a freaking Greek god. If only he had a better attitude, he’d be…what’s the expression again…all that and a bag of chips.
I shook my head. “I’ll be fine, Jonas. Go on back to bed, and I’ll do the same.” I didn’t need the temptation his closeness and his body offered. I’d just suffer through another restless night, hoping exhaustion would eventually win out, allowing me to sleep.
He didn’t budge as I tried to get past him. Before I knew what had happened, he bent down, threw me over his shoulder, and popped me on the ass with his hand. “What the hell did you do that for?”
His laughter caused me to vibrate over his shoulder. “That’s for lying to me. If we’re going to get along, we need to trust one another, and trust doesn’t come without being one hundred percent truthful.”
Truthful? He was accusing me of being dishonest. I reached down and slapped his backside as hard as I could with both my hands, not an easy task since he was so tall, maybe six feet, whereas I was only five feet four. But I managed to pop him good, causing him to jump and almost drop me on my head.
I bounced when he tossed me onto the middle of the bed. His hand went around to rub his ass cheek…and what a fine backside it was: firm, tight, and ready for my hands to…what the hell was I thinking?
“What the fuck did you do that for?” His words came out rather harsh.
I got up on my knees and poked him in the chest. “I don’t appreciate the double standard you’re setting. You want me to be honest with you, demanding truthfulness in order to achieve trust, but you’re holding back and not being forthcoming either. I can see you’re processing a lot of things in that thick skull of yours. You think you have me fooled, but I see through the smoke screen you’re presenting. You, sir, have issues, very strong ones. My guess would be some kind of PTSD related issues.” I didn’t mean to mouth off or push too far, but it was already out of my mouth before I’d even realized.
Jonas’s hands went up into his hair, clutching it, while his eyes went wide in horror. “Where the hell do you get off trying to figure out what’s going on in my mind? You’re no doctor, so drop it.” His voice was intensely serious, not quite a yell, but almost.
“No, I’m not a doctor, but I am a counselor.” I countered. I moved a little further back on the bed in case he felt the urge to go for the full-on yelling fit some of my patients had done in clinical.
He got on top of the bed on his knees and inched toward me. “And how do you counsel people? Do you tell them what clothes they look good in, how they’re supposed to feel, and how they’re supposed to behave? Is that the job you’re hoping is still there when you get back? One that is cushy telling people what they should and shouldn’t believe?”
Did Jonas feel threatened by me? Was that why his words felt like an insult? I didn’t care if he was mad anymore, because I was ready to throw down with Jonas if he pushed me any further. I may look small, but I’d taken karate the last six years and advanced quickly to a high degree black belt. If he wanted to dish, I’d be happy to serve his ass to him on a platter.
I got up in his face, crossed my arms over my chest, and stood my ground. “Apparently, you haven’t done your homework. I’ve done clinical rotations with Drs. Carol and Kent Bradford. I had the opportunity to work with you but declined, because I knew who you were and felt it would be a conflict of interest, and I was right.” He didn’t say anything, only looked at me with a look of open-mouthed shock. I guess he wasn’t expecting that last little tidbit.
“I’d accepted a position with the new VA hospital on the outskirts of Orlando in the Lake Nona area. Providing the job is still waiting for me, I’ll be working with veterans who’ve been in war-torn areas and are suffering from PTSD. I’m a mental health counselor, you jerk. I help people get through this shit; the same stuff we both seem to be suffering from now.” I got within an inch of his face, “So you back the fuck off!”
Expecting a backlash of anger, I just stayed put ready to fight him back but, instead, found his lips crashing against mine in a fuel-driven kiss full of intensity that literally took my breath away, made my heart race, and had me gasping for air. He only let up a moment for me to get another intake of air, before lowering me to the bed, his body covering mine.
I’d meant to fight him off, but found my lips responding to his. His lower body pressed against mine as his elbows, supporting the bulk of his weight, rested on the bed.
This is wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this. This is a mission to keep you safe, nothing more. Cut it out, girl! He’s eye candy to look at, not touch. My mind was screaming at me to stop, giving me all the right reasons to break away from the kiss, but I needed out of my head for a while to forget everything I’d seen recently and everything I’d lived up to that point. This was not what I had expected. How could I be feeling a connection to someone I thought hated me, someone I didn’t realize, until tonight, I shared so much in common with. Why did my body feel so alive from our kiss? It wasn’t until our hands began to slip under our shirts that we each came to our senses and pulled away.
Jonas rolled over to the other side of the bed. His breathing was loud and labored, much like my own. We let silence surround us for several minutes, before he finally spoke. “I’m sorry. I should not have done that. I’ll leave.”
Instinctively, my hand reached out and grabbed ahold of his shoulder. “Don’t go,” I begged. I knew this was all wrong, but I didn’t care. I was tired, and I needed sleep.
He turned his head to look at me, the darkness of his eyes gave proof to the lust-driven state he was in, probably mirroring my own. I swallowed hard and admitted, “You’re right; we shouldn’t do this, but I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in days. I’d like it if you’d stay here, but keep to your side of the bed while I keep to mine. Maybe we will be a security blanket for each other, which will allow us to sleep.”
Taking in a deep breath, Jonas nodded and lay down without saying anything. I reached over to the light and turned it off, allowing the glow of the nightlight in the bathroom to fill our space, before I rolled onto my side to face away from him.
The only sounds making their way through the house were the distant waves crashing along the beach and, of course, our breathing. I noted his had leveled out, as had mine. I’d almost been pulled under by the call of sleep, when I felt his hand lightly pat me on my back. His words were but a whisper, “Thank you,” before finally succumbing to slumber.