CHAPTER 24
Subtle consistent beeping combined with a low murmur of voices woke Jessie from wherever her mind had been. Her throat burned, as did her chest, while her mouth and nose felt dry. When she opened her eyes, they began to water, feeling gritty and dry as well, making it hard to focus. Blake. She knew that frame anywhere, and the timbre of his voice brought her instant relief.
Jessie began to cough when she saw that it was Logan standing beside him. Both men were at her bedside in a blink.
“Slow, deep breaths,” Blake soothed, handing her a large plastic mug of water.
When she tried to hold it with her own two hands, she hissed in pain. Her hands were swollen and bruised. Her coughing settled and breathing eased until Logan stood just right. Even in the dimly lit room, she could see his blackened eye and matching swollen bloodied lip. What had she done?
“Did I…do that?” She waved her swollen fingers in front of her, indicating his wounded face, which she quickly regretted when the ache in her hand reminded her just how much she had done and how hard.
“Oh, my God. I did. I’m so sorry. I thought… Uh…” She caught herself. She couldn’t tell him what she really thought or who
she thought he had been. She’d weathered her fair share of judgment, pity, and humiliation – she wasn’t about to invite anymore. “I was scared. You know, still half asleep.”
He grinned in a sympathetic manner. “I know you were – it’s okay. I’ve been through worse. Not much worse – you got a killer right hook – but worse. They don’t train us on how to handle shit like that, so I probably did everything wrong.”
He was trying to comfort her, take responsibility for her
actions. She offered him an appreciative smile, just before she flicked him more shit. She couldn’t let their relationship get too far from normal.
“No. You did everything right. Don’t worry; you’re still Captain fucking America.” She winked, causing her eye to water.
“Nice,” Logan said, his words loaded with sarcasm. “I’ll take that as your thank you
.”
“Yeah, I don’t use that one,” she teased as a choking fit began.
“I’ve noticed. Makes you choke.”
She flipped Logan off in response, earning a boyish grin. “I’m…uh…glad you’re okay. Blake can fill you in on everything.” He nodded, leaving her with a sweet smile as he disappeared through her hospital room door.
“What happened? Did boy wonder’s sexting get too hot?” she tried to tease, making light of a heavy situation.
Blake didn’t think she was funny, not at all. Standing with his arms crossed, he wasn’t impressed…or amused.
“No?” she asked, squirming under his heavy stare. “Okay. Are you going to say anything?”
“Are you?” he quickly shot back.
“I figured you already knew.” Jessie knew where he was going with the conversation but tried to keep it easy. She didn’t want to go there. “It was fire or something. My house was full of…”
“Cut the shit, Jess.”
“Wh-what do you mean? I don’t know what you mean, Blake. It was like a fire…or…”
He placed his hands at the edge of her bed and leaned in at eye level, “Jessie, tonight was too damn close.”
“Too…too close?”
Pushing himself off the bed, he tossed his hands in the air, “Are you serious? Your smoke alarms were tampered with, and somehow, the house tried to burn down from inside the walls, out. That’s not a freak accident.”
“Flea and Baby…” She tried to change the subject but to no avail.
“Are with Sparks. He took them home. I’ll get them later.”
“Can I go home now?” she said in a small voice, staring at her battered hands. “I don’t have to stay, right?”
“Jessie, your home
is fucked. You don’t have a home right now. When
they release you, you’ll come home with me.”
“Oh, no.” She sat taller, alarms sounding in her head. “I’m not going out there. Your cabin is what every scary movie is made of. I’ll stay with Morgan out at the ranch…or Lou.”
“No, you won’t,” he chided. “You aren’t taking this shit to their homes and families.”
Blake reached inside his jacket and pulled the pictures he kept from the warehouse, tossing them on the hospital table that crossed her bed. A painful gasp escaped her at the sight of the images, leading her to crumple them up and toss them to the floor quickly as if they could hurt her.
“We found Jason. At least, where he had
been. This isn’t a game. He’s a sick bastard, and he’s coming for you,” Blake said calmly, trying not to frighten her more than she already was while still trying to get the message across. “Tomorrow, when they walk through the house to investigate, they’ll probably call it arson.”
When she didn’t say anything, he waited before finishing, letting his words get through to her. “Jessie, you need
to trust me – need
to let me help you.”
She looked away, tears ready to spill over when her raspy voice finally hiccupped a response, “I don’t know what you mean.”
How much longer could she avoid the truth? She wasn’t naïve. She knew her smoke detectors had failed, and it was likely at the hands of Jason Bolton. He didn’t want her to be warned…he wanted her to wake up when it was too late, but how and when did he do it? She was desperate to avoid the conversation and keep Blake as far from Jason Bolton as she could. When that name crossed her mind, it dawned on her – Blake already said his name. Her head snapped his direction, and her eyes narrowed. Given the expression that earned…he knew.
“You know,” she started, the tears spilling over, matching the pain in her voice, “You said Jason Bolton. You…know.”
“I’m sorry, but I had no choice,” he defended.
“There’s always a choice
, Blake. Always.”
“You wouldn’t tell me – I was running blind, crazy out of my mind, trying to protect you. I needed to know what I was up against – what I was saving you from.”
“But, you’ve always been protective
, Blake. Always.” Her voice cracked as the realization behind Blake’s knowing settled in. “You’ve known what happened…to me…all this time. This isn’t new – you’ve known for…years
.”
It wasn’t a question but rather a statement. She was reacting just as he suspected she would, having gone this route. He wished she would have just told him and spared them both this painful moment. The disappointment and hurt in her expression was gutting him. He hurt her now, too.
His mouth moved, but there weren’t any words, so he nodded. It was all he could do. He had
known – from the beginning.
Her brows raised as she gasped in shock, the reality of his admission settling around her.
“Oh, my God, Blake,” she choked, looking down at the crumpled pictures on the floor. “You know. You know everything he did to me.”
“Jess…”
She stopped him, not finished with her own query, “The pictures. You saw
what he…did. If you went looking for him, that means…you read the police reports, probably the hospital records…even the court documents.”
She shook her head in disbelief and let out a defeated chuckle. “You’re Blake Cooper. Of course, you did. You saw and read…all of it.”
Her voice cracked on her final words, and the sob that she had been fighting erupted. “Who was it? Who was with you? Who else knows?”
“Just Carter and the O’Reillys,” he started, quickly trying to add an explanation when panic seemed to consume her. “They just want to help, Jess. They want this guy as bad as I do. As bad as you
do. I didn’t…tell them. They each researched on their own, only read what they needed to.”
“Only what they needed to…that’s the whole damn thing if they want him as badly as I do, Blake.” Jessie pulled her blankets up higher, covering her body and burying her face. She couldn’t look at him. Not because she couldn’t stand the sight of him but because she didn’t want to see how he was looking at her after seeing her that way
. She felt insecure and vulnerable, even dirty. He knew her deepest darkest secret and all of the disgusting details that went with it. It was humiliating.
“Jessie, don’t,” he said gently, trying to console her, “Don’t do that. He hurt you
. Don’t be…”
“What?” she shouted, “Embarrassed? Ashamed? Hurt
? No wonder you don’t want me – I’m too used and broken for you, Blake Cooper.”
“Jessie…”
“Leave,” she whispered, straightening her posture as if it made her seem confident. “Please? Just…leave.”
When he stood there, watching her, searching for the words to make it right, her stare dropped to her bruised hands, and she whispered desperately, “Please
.”
Nodding his head, he dropped his gaze, and said, “I’ll be right outside, if you…need me
.”
Nothing. She didn’t acknowledge him at all. When the door was nearly closed behind him, he heard her painful sob. Though he knew he had done the right thing, he couldn’t help but feel as if he had betrayed her. If there were ever a chance to earn her trust – it was now gone. What was worse, and pained him the most, was that she thought knowing what happened to her made him not want her. That couldn’t be further from the truth – he wanted her. He just couldn’t have her because he didn’t deserve her.
It was late, and Jessie wasn’t being released until morning. With two back to back smoke injuries and blacking out, they wanted to keep an eye on her. Blake thought that was for the best. It would give her time to deal with the letdown he just gave her.
He checked on her several times after she finally fell asleep. He stood in her doorway, watching her sleep, trying to figure out how to fix what he had done. If given the chance, he’d do it all over again. He didn’t regret doing what he had – he just regretted hurting her.
When her sleep became restless and she began to cry, he went to her bedside. Sleeping meds had been offered, but she refused them. She equated them to the drugs Jason had used to control her while he held her captive and raped and tortured her for three days in the middle of the woods. They had been far enough from civilization that no one would stumble across them or hear her screams while he had his sick fun.
Because of her drug induced state, when she finally got away and ran for help, she had no idea where she was or where she had been. She stumbled upon a couple of older men, out for an early hunt, on an old rural road. She was naked, badly beaten and branded with his mark in several places. The circle with the star she had been doodling before was his permanent mark.
Jason Bolton had left a knife on the hot rocks surrounding a campfire. He branded her right shoulder with his chosen symbol – why that symbol, Blake could only guess. Then, above her right breast, he used hash marks to keep track of how many times he’d had
her. A constant reminder of him and what he had done.
Jessie refused medication of any kind because of that. Nobody believed her when she said two men had been present, and she’d watched them kill another woman. Investigators never found the scene of the crime to verify her claim that they killed the woman and dropped her body in the campfire. She couldn’t remember where it happened, couldn’t describe the girl or other man. She had been in and out of consciousness, and details were a blur. Barely a memory.
Jason didn’t confess, per se, called their weekend consensual
and vehemently denied that anyone else was there or that a woman had been murdered. He took full credit – as if it was something to boast about. They went to trial since he refused to plead guilty to a crime. It was his way of continuing the game. He enjoyed every minute of making Jessie relive her nightmare. The evidence against him was so strong, even his attorney had advised him to plea out – he’d get less time. But, like anyone who suffered from psychopathy with killing instinct, he wanted to victimize her more and torture her with a trial, which he ultimately lost.
Though he was convicted and incarcerated, the justice system failed Jessie horribly. Focused more on pinning him as the elusive campfire killer, who victimized his prey at campgrounds, the prosecution mishandled much of Jessie’s case. Rather than getting as much of a conviction out of him as possible, and justice for his lone surviving victim, they were only able to make lesser charges stick. He was sentenced to ten years with a chance of parole at eight – out in nine. Justice was not
served.
Reformed. That was the reason the justice system gave for early release. Jason Bolton had been…reformed
. He’d found God and ministered to the prisoners – even became a pastor within the prison. It disgusted Blake. There was no reforming a psychopath – they were great actors and patient. They would play whatever part they needed to, for as long as they needed to, in order to get what they wanted. This asshole was case and point.
When Jessie cried out in her sleep again, the sound grabbed Blake’s attention. She was angry with him; she was hurt, but that didn’t stop him from climbing in the hospital bed next to her and holding her. She stiffened, at first, but quickly relaxed into his familiar embrace when he said, “I’ve got you, and I’ll never let you go.”