Chapter Twenty-five

Jack waited until the shiny white truck drove away and he was sure that Hanna was alone before he made his move.

He'd been watching this place for hours, waiting for the right time to approach her. He knew from experience that the best way to get his little Hanna to agree with him was to make sure there was no one else around—no other opinions chirping in her ear or making her feel too safe.

She behaved a lot better when she was just a little bit afraid of him.

Some snooping around told him that she was staying in the garage behind the rundown house. And while the digs weren't the swankiest he'd ever seen, they were a big step up from the chick's place he'd been staying in back in Cincinnati. At least there were no leaks in the roof and no cockroaches scurrying around day and night. He was about done with the woman, anyway. Not enough cash in her purse to keep him interested. He had, however, convinced her to let him borrow her car, which he hadn't told her he was taking on a road trip.

There was probably going to be hell to pay there, but sweet, little Hanna would always bail him out of jail. She was good like that—as long as he could convince her of what he already knew.

The two of them were far from over. They belonged together. All that shit he'd pulled on her was just water under the bridge. Once she forgave him, they'd be good as new. And he'd move into her comfy new digs, play a few video games, fuck each other's brains out, and get some much-needed rest.

Jack let himself inside, propped up his feet on the scuffed coffee table and made himself at home while he waited for Hanna to come back.

Her things were in the bedroom. He'd laid out the cutest pajamas she had so she'd know what to put on for him. No sense in beating around the bush there. He was definitely going to fuck her tonight. He hadn't had pussy in days, and his poor balls were turning blue. Besides, sex had always made Hanna a lot more pliable, and he liked her like that. No whining or bitching allowed.

While he waited for her to come back and clean up for him, he helped himself to a sandwich and looked at nude pics on his phone. Cell reception out here wasn't great, but he had enough for some still photos of prime tits and ass, though no videos.

Hanna was great at paying the bills, but not very creative in the sack. Fucking her often took some extra motivation to get him going.

He'd just felt the first tingling of a boner when he heard the creaky door swing open.

Hanna was back. Time to turn on the charm.

***

Hanna worked until her hands locked into stiff claws, then decided to call it a night. She knew sleep would be slow to come—that her mind would be filled with Nate—but she was too physically exhausted to keep chipping away at the tile on her hands and knees.

She was almost done restoring that duck decoy she'd found in the attic. Maybe if she couldn't sleep she'd put the last finishing touches on that tonight. No sense in staring at the ceiling when there was something productive she could be doing.

Her stomach rumbled and her knees and back ached. She was covered from head to toe in grime, and could not wait another minute for a shower. Dinner would come after she'd figured out how to cover her stitches and get clean. Maybe if she tied a trash bag around her shoulder…

She came to a dead stop the second she saw Jack inside the garage apartment. He was lounging on the ugly plaid couch like he lived here, his booted feet perched on the battered coffee table. Light from his phone washed over his face, giving his smile of greeting an eerie glow.

He wore a dingy T-shirt and khaki shorts. His long, hairy legs were capped off in high-end tennis shoes that had probably cost some poor woman her entire paycheck. He held a shiny, new phone, which Hanna also suspected he hadn't worked to earn, and a diamond pinky ring flashed on his finger.

Jack was a handsome man with a charming smile and dark, glittering eyes. His hair was a bit too long and messy, and he wore several days growth of beard stubble on his jaw. He was tall, powerfully built, and often used those traits to either coax or intimidate people into doing what he wanted.

And while Hanna could see all of his positive physical attributes, they no longer did anything for her. He might as well have been a statue—attractive, hard and cold.

"Evening, Hanna. It's been a long time. Too long."

The first feeling to penetrate her shock was dread. The man who'd ruined her life and destroyed her dreams and credit score was here, only ten steps away.

The second thing she felt was fear. Why was he here? How had he found her? What did he want?

Then finally, in the space of three heartbeats, her emotions settled on anger.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded. And then, before he could answer, "Never mind. I don't care. Get the fuck out."

She walked to the door and held it open for him to leave.

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" he asked.

"We were never friends. Friends don't treat each other the way you treated me."

"Oh, baby. Don't be like that. You know we were good together."

"Why are you here?" Hanna asked.

"I missed you, baby. You took off so fast I didn't have time to say good-bye." He took a step toward her, and she took two away from him.

"We said all there was to say when I kicked you out."

"You mean when I left," he said, correcting her.

Hanna didn't bother to argue. Let him think what he wanted. All she cared about was getting him out of her life for good. "How did you find me?"

"A man has his ways. Especially one as motivated as I am to see you again."

"I have no money. What possible use could I be to you?" she asked.

His smile faltered and she glimpsed that frightening light that formed in his eyes when he started to get angry. "Don't be like that, baby. You still have a lot to offer." He looked around the apartment. "This place isn't half bad. If we get a big TV and some high-speed internet, we could make it work."

"So, you got a job to afford all those things?" she asked with feigned innocence.

He shrugged. "What if I did get a job?"

Hanna laughed at the idea of him actually working for more than a week on any job. He always said he'd get one, take forever to find it, then quit before his third day, claiming some injustice had been done to him.

The boss was an idiot and wanted him to work too hard. He had to get up too early. He didn't want to work weekends or evenings when all his friends were busy playing. And heaven forbid anyone make him skip some big video game tournament he wanted to play.

His mouth tightened in anger, and she knew she was pushing him into territory that wasn't safe for her.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"First, as far as I know, you've never held a job for more than a week. Second, you're not invited to stay here. Third, I'm not even staying myself. And last, I wouldn't live with you again if you paid me."

"You're cranky because you're horny. That's all. Don't worry, baby. I know what you need. Now scoot that sweet ass of yours into the shower. You're covered in sweat and dirt, and I'm sure as hell not going to fuck you smelling like that."

Bile rose in her throat at the thought. "You're not going to fuck me at all. And if you don't leave right now, I'm calling the police." She pulled out her phone, brandishing it like a weapon.

Jack seemed unconcerned. He came forward in a slow, powerful movement that reminded her of just how strong he was.

Fear crept back in through the holes in her anger. He had never hit her, but something in the back of her mind—some kind of female intuition—told her he was capable of it if pushed too far.

He sauntered toward her, in no rush at all. His handsome face was set in hard, determined angles she knew all too well.

Jack was going to get his way, no matter what it took.

He leaned one thick arm against the door frame, putting his face close to hers. "Do you really want to go that route, Hanna? I mean, you could call the cops, but how long would it take them to get here? And just how mad do you think I'd be in the meantime? Angry, with all that time on my hands…a man could do a lot of damage before help arrived way out here."

"You're trespassing." Her voice trembled, and she could see how much that brightened his gaze.

He'd always been turned on by her fear. She realized that now and wondered how she'd missed it before.

He shrugged one wide shoulder. "I surprised you by showing up like I did. That was my fault. Why don't you take a minute to settle down? By the time you're out of the shower, I'm sure you'll realize just how much you've missed me."

Before she could slip away and buy herself some time, Jack plucked her phone from her hand. "You won't be needing this."

She didn't know what to do. Right now Jack wasn't all that mad. But if she ran? If she bolted outside into the dark where she couldn't even see where she was going?

He'd be furious. He'd chase her. As tired as she was, as long as his legs were, he'd catch her.

And then what?

She needed time to think of how to get rid of him, so she did the only thing that came to mind. She slipped past him and headed for the bathroom.

And prayed she'd find a weapon.