Navy
“Turn that shit off.” J.J.’s voice cuts through the two-story log cabin.
The music grows louder.
“Faye!”
I snicker, picturing the scene in the kitchen from up in my room. Faye rocks on to her man crush Justin Bieber while J.J. strokes out. I swear she only plays his music to light a fire under J.J.’s ass. Being trapped in this cabin leaves no room for escape. I had no clue who Justin was until Faye introduced me to him back at the mansion. I’m not sure what J.J. has against him.
Between everyone in the cabin, they’ve kept me in bed for the last several days, bringing me meals and drinks. J.J. helped me shower last night, against his better judgment. He was not happy with me getting up. He stressed out so damn much he brought a doctor to the cabin permanently as long as we are here. It’s a bit much. Thing is I’ve never had “a bit much,” so in my world, it melts my heart.
However, this morning I’m determined to make it to the kitchen before J.J. brings a tray of food up here. I snag a pair of black yoga pants from the Target bag. I don’t want to know how they showed up here. If I’ve learned one thing about J.J. is the man has connections and men at his service much like Jordan. That one simple thought has the power to crush it all. The difference being J.J. isn’t evil like Jordan. Far from it.
There are several tops in the bag ranging from t-shirts to tanks to sweatshirts. The crisp white button up of J.J.’s hanging off the log chair catches my attention. I grab it before thinking about it and slide my arms in, buttoning up the front. It drowns me in soothing comfort. I need to use the bathroom but can’t. Old memories rush by in a flash flood.
Jesus, J.J has become my crutch. He’s been by my side since arriving here, lingering around while I used the bathroom. His mere presence is reassuring enough to keep the memories at bay. It’s not healthy, and I know that much, but it’s the way I’m surviving.
I creak open the door, cringing with the loud sound it makes. I pray no one has been alerted as I pad out into the hallway. My jaw drops at the massive A-frame ceiling and the long hallway open to the living space below. I peer to the right to see the set of stairs. My legs wobble with the thought of tackling them. I keep my hand pressed firmly against the wood railing as I take each one, ignoring the Jell-O sensation in my muscles.
The closer to the bottom I get, J.J. and Faye’s argument becomes clearer as does the aroma of bacon and coffee. It does the trick to power me on. At the bottom of the stairs, I stand in awe for a few seconds. The cabin, much like his house, is gorgeous from all the intricate wood right down to the rustic décor. There are several mounts of animals ranging from deer, elk, moose, and even a bobcat on the prowl.
“Look who decided to join us.” Kemp presses a palm to my shoulder.
I didn’t see him sneak up on me. The ruckus in the open kitchen halts, and all eyes are on me. I don’t miss the scowl from J.J. but offer up a weak smile anyway.
“Let her be, you damn ogre.” Faye swats J.J. with the wooden spoon in her hand.
He winces, grabbing at his shoulder, giving me the time to make it to the island. Unlike his house, there’s only a small wooden type island in the kitchen with a few barstools also made of logs. I don’t bother going to the elaborate and extremely long dining room table off to the side of the kitchen. It feels more natural sitting right in the middle of the lovable chaos.
It zaps the remaining energy left in me to hoist myself up on the rustic barstool. Kemp slides a mug of coffee in front of me, and it disappears as soon as it appeared.
“Here.” J.J. slides a mug of hot, steaming tea in front of me.
I smile. He knows what I like. How? I have no damn idea. I don’t try to process it as I bring the mug to my lips, blowing on the steaming tea. I glance over at the open box of tea to see it’s non-caffeinated. It doesn’t surprise me since he’d been forcing prenatal vitamins down me since finding out.
“Need help?” I offer over the rim of my coffee mug. I don’t think I’d be of any, but it feels right to ask. I’d enjoyed my time cooking with Faye, learning the ways of the kitchen. She never flinched or blinked an eye when I’d spill something. She made me comfortable.
“Nope, darling, it’s nearly finished.” She pushes a button on her phone, blaring her music.
J.J.’s nostrils flare in anger, making me giggle. She was pushing his buttons and damn well knew it. And J.J. fed right into the act. He snatched her phone that was streaming Justin music throughout the speakers in the house and scrolled a few moments until deciding on a song.
“Now this is music, Faye. A classic by Juice Newton, “Queen of Hearts.” Now this is music.” He grins at her.
Kemp sweeps in from behind, scooping his mom into his arms and swaying her to the beat of the song. J.J. appears in front of me, nestling between my legs, doing the same with me sitting down.
“I don’t know how to dance,” I whisper.
“I lead, you follow.” He bends down, kissing my forehead. “You know this song?”
“Was my momma’s favorite song.” I manage a smile.
“Perfect.”
“Why are you so happy?” My hands run up his sides.
“You.”
“We are hidden away with men looking to kill me.”
He doesn’t stop swaying me on the barstool but does shrug. “Yeah. They’ll meet their maker soon.”
“How can you be so calm?” My hand roams to cup his cheek.
“Only way to be. Show no fear, baby.” His lips graze mine as the final notes of the song play out.
My cheeks flush a crimson color when Faye and Kemp clear their throats. J.J. steps back and fixes a plate for me and then himself. The scent of bacon and eggs causes my stomach to growl, on cue. J.J. takes a seat on the opposite end of the island. He doesn’t sadden me but reassures me. It’s a resemblance of normalcy that comforts me.
“Faye knows,” J.J. murmurs to Kemp. “Speak freely.”
I look up from my clean plate to the men. Kemp clears his throat with a rare serious look on his face.
“They are two days out.”
“Everything okay?” J.J. asks.
“Yes, she is scared and a bit timid, but in good health.”
My fork clatters to the plate. I know who they are talking about. J.J. glances up at me with a kind expression.
“I’m having them reroute, which is the cause of the delay,” Kemp finishes.
“Sounds good.” J.J. jerks his chin and finishes his breakfast.
His playful, loving persona vanishes. It hurts to see the powerful man with the worry of the universe pressing down on him. He reaches for the clear tumbler with amber liquid filling it. His whiskey. His vice.
“I’ll help with the dishes.” I slide off the barstool.
“No, no, no.” Faye tries to shoo me away.
“Don’t, Faye.” The sternness in my voice shocks me. “I can stand here and place dishes in the dishwasher. It feels great to be up and moving.”
I glance over to J.J. to see his jaw ticking, but he doesn’t say a word in rebuttal. I’m grateful I don’t have to reiterate what the doctor, currently up in his room, has said over and over. I’m just fine. I’m on the correct medication and growing stronger. I’m not sick.
Once the kitchen is cleaned up, we all settle in the living room. Kemp pops in a DVD, Faye is knitting with balls of yarn in her lap, and J.J. studies his laptop. His brows scrunch in concentration, legs spread out wide on the ottoman, and his pointer finger taps his chin. Curiosity runs strong through my veins, but I keep curled up in the corner of the couch underneath a blanket Faye gave me, one she quilted herself.
Kemp chuckles every once in a while at the movie he put in. He was flabbergasted I’d never heard of it. We didn’t have a television growing up, and once I went with Jordan, television was never an option. The only movies I ever watched were the rare ones my parents took me to see in the theatres. Kemp claims Dumb and Dumber is an iconic movie and you’re not American if you haven’t seen it.
I know it was a joke, and it did make me giggle. But I haven’t been able to concentrate on it even when one man pissed in a bottle. The euphoric high I am on vanishes as each second ticks by. The rollercoaster of emotions and chaos has drained me. There’s always been a pull between J.J. and myself, but I also knew I was too shattered to entertain it.
I ball my fists and let my eyelids flutter shut. It will be what it is. I’m too exhausted to continue on the cycle of self-doubt and what ifs. Kemp’s laughter fills the background coupled with J.J.’s aggressive typing on his keyboard. It lulls me to sleep.
I have no idea how long I’ve been out when voices break through my sleep-hazed mind.
“How did he know?” J.J. asks.
“Felicia at the office took the bait and shared everything she knew with Jordan. Man must be able to dazzle the fucking pants off any and everyone.”
“Has she been taken care of?”
“Yeah, she won’t be talking again, and the message was sent loud and clear to everyone at Big Enterprise in hopes dollar signs won’t entice anyone else.”
“The fucking deal with Smith and Sons fell through,” J.J. grumbles.
“Yeah.” The sound of clinking glass fills the air. “This shit show has been hell on business.”
“Yes, it has,” J.J. agrees.
I flinch internally, willing myself not to move.
A hand roams over my thigh and sneaks up underneath my shirt until a palm splays across my abdomen. “It will be over once Jordan is dead.”
“Our men are on it. They’ve brought in the best and will take down all the fuckers. Scum doesn’t belong on Earth.”
“Agreed. Until then, we sit tight and wait. You remind the men out front that no one’s guard goes down until this war is over. And when I say remind I mean on a daily fucking basis.”
“I’m on your team, Boss. You go down then I go down. Have a feeling the slimy bastard is going to bait us out of the cabin. If that’s the case, we will go. Put the girls in the safe room. Have this place more secure than the fucking Pentagon.”
There’s a stale pause before Kemp speaks up again.
“You getting over your head with her?”
“You have no idea,” J.J. replies.
“You gonna survive it when she leaves? I know there have been others, but this seems different.”
“It is, and I won’t be letting go.”
“Hate to tell you, man, but it won’t be your decision.”
J.J. grunts. The conversation ends. The sound of another movie fills the living room. I’m rustled around until my back presses against a hard chest. J.J.’s hand goes back to the skin of my stomach. It’s a protective gesture.
“Nothing will ever hurt you, baby. Nothing. I don’t break promises. I’ll keep you safe and love you until you push me away,” he whispers in my ear. With each syllable, his lips graze the shell of my ear.
I move my hand to cover his, lacing my fingers in his, and give them a gentle squeeze. This man sealed the deal on my heart, and he has no damn idea.
***
“How have you been feeling?” Dr. Asten, an old man with wire-framed glasses, asks me.
“Better. Getting more strength every day.”
“Excellent.” He runs an instrument over my abdomen until the room fills with a steady heartbeat.
My body relaxes back on the bed. J.J. squeezes my hand. I wanted to tell him how ridiculous he was bringing a doctor here. Dollar signs and the absurd amount of money it costs fills me with anxiety. And the mere idea of J.J. bringing this man with us to a secluded cabin where we are on lockdown is a concept I can’t even begin to comprehend.
But the steady beat of the innocent and healthy heartbeat serenading the room erases away all those thoughts. Even though I carried a baby to full term, this is the first time I’m hearing a heartbeat. Jordan refused any medical care with my first pregnancy. He always promised I could keep the baby and we’d go to a hospital when it was time. Lies. All lies. I should’ve known.
“Strong little one in there.” Dr. Asten stands up straight, adjusting his glasses.
“Like its momma,” J.J. whispers so low I’m the only who hears the praise.
“Continue with your vitamins and other meds, plenty of fluids, and you should be good to go.” The doctor leans on the edge of the bed.
“So,” I sit up, tucking my shirt back down, “I’m clear for everyday activity?”
“Yes, Navy, staying as active as you can has its benefits.”
“How far along is she?” J.J. asks, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.
I bite my lip to keep the laughter caged. He changed the subject on purpose, determined to baby me every step of the way.
“Can’t determine that exactly. From some of the tests run at the office, although I was in a damn rush, lead me to make an educated guess of around three or four months.”
“Long-term effects…” J.J. stalls and glances down at me. I nod giving him permission to reiterate my hell, “…from being starved and physically abused.”
Dr. Asten relaxes down on the end of the bed. “The womb is more secure than you’d think. Signs look good. I can’t promise anything, but the baby’s heartbeat is still strong. Once we leave here, I’ll be able to run more tests.”
“Woman! Are you kidding me?” Kemp’s enraged voice interrupts the conversation.
The door bursts open. Faye enters with a plate of food, a fancy dress on, and…is that a bit of makeup dusting her face? If the makeup wasn’t a clue then the angry, brooding Kemp behind her is more than obvious.
“Took your meal to your room and you weren’t there.” Faye holds up the plate in one hand.
“Thank you.” Dr. Asten tips his head in appreciation and blushes.
I slap a hand over my mouth, unable to hold in the shock and burst of giggles ready to escape me. The scene in front of me is adorable. I’m not sure which is more entertaining to watch—Kemp all pissed off or Faye trying her hand at flirting.
“Babe, can you help Faye down in the kitchen?” J.J. brushes his lips against my temple.
I nod. “Be nice, though, please.”
A sideways smirk lights up his face. “Just crowd control. That is all.”
“Okay.”
I stand and follow Faye out the door. She peers back over her shoulder to the good doctor, who has his plate of food on his lap, and gifts him with a finger wave. Kemp growls, and J.J. erupts in laughter.
Some conversation ensues. It’s Kemp’s voice that I process.
“So it is safe to have sex in Navy’s condition? I mean if we are all open to this relationship shit. Fair game and all,” Kemp’s voice booms.
Then it’s J.J. growling.