Run From Fear (13 page)

His words echoed through her brain, building in strength and volume.
I want you to want me like I want
you.

There would be no practice round, no dipping her toes in to see if she was really up for it. To quote one of her favorite movies, with Jack it was do or do not. There would be no try.

But, she acknowledged as she disarmed the alarm, unlocked the door, and walked into her kitchen, if she was going to ever try, it could never be with anyone but Jack.

The first man in nearly a decade to make her want for something more. The only man she could ever trust with her body.

She stripped off her clothes and got in the shower, and as she soaped and rinsed, her resolve grew. Whoever was out to scare her could send all the creepy gifts they wanted. She was not going to let herself be burdened by the past. She was not going to continue to let the memories of David Maxwell drag her back to that place where she could do nothing but exist, her life stagnant, colorless.

Jack’s kiss, the realization of what had been simmering underneath, scared the hell out of her; there was no denying that. But it made her realize how much of herself she’d been holding in check, even as she worked to open herself up and connect with the people who were part of her new life.

“You be back by midnight, you hear me?” Gene’s mother’s demand, issued in Estonian, echoed through the
house’s dim interior. Though they’d immigrated when he was four, she insisted on speaking it in the house.

His shoulders knotted as he realized he hadn’t made it past her unnoticed. He didn’t answer and kept heading for the door, regretting it when he heard the chair scrape across linoleum followed by her muffled footsteps on the carpeted floor.

“Gene!” she snapped, rounding the corner to the entryway. Though barely fifty, his mother looked seventy, her small body wiry and shrunken as though the years of bitterness had consumed her from the inside out. She stopped short when she saw him, curling her lip like she smelled something. “What the hell do you think you are wearing?” she asked as she took in his heavy, military-style boots, black pants, and black T-shirt, topped with a black canvas jacket.

“I have to go, Mama,” he said, and tried to slip out the door, but she jumped in front of him. He tried to draw back but she grabbed his cheek between her thumb and her forefinger and squeezed.

“You think some girl is going to want a loser like you, dressed up like some
kakker
?” She looked him up and down again. “But no clothes can change you.” She stood up on her tiptoes and pulled at his cheek.

Though every cell in his body rebelled, he had no choice but to bend his head closer. “You are loser, like your father. You and him, both losers who ruined my life.”

He forced himself not to pull away, to beat back the urge to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze until her eyes popped out. He wanted to slam her head through the window and scream that he was no loser, that he was capable of things she couldn’t even imagine.

But he took a deep breath and swallowed back the nausea. “You’re right, Mama. You’re always right.”

Her harsh frown melted into a smile. “Good boy,” she said, patting his cheek. “Even though you’re a loser, I love you. Nobody will ever love you like Mama.”

“I know,” he said tightly.

“Now tell me you love me and give me a kiss.”

He closed his eyes and bent his head, forced himself to rest his shaking hands gently on her shoulders as he pressed his mouth to her cheek. Somehow he managed not to vomit as the stench of cigarettes, boiled cabbage, and sour wine invaded his nostrils.

Control. That was the key to his success. He had to control himself now and learn to control himself with the women. Only then would he be ready for her.

For Talia.

As he escaped his mother’s clutching hands and headed out the front door, a wave of anticipation shot through him like an electrical current. It curled in his stomach and pulsed through his veins, chasing away the revulsion his mother’s touch had caused.

He slid into the car and slipped on a pair of leather gloves. He pulled the plastic case from his pocket, unable to keep from grinning at the thought of Talia’s reaction to his gift.

T
alia spent the rest of the afternoon anxiously checking her phone, but after a curt text that said only,
Call if something else happens,
Jack maintained complete radio silence. At first she was confused. She’d been out of the game for a while, but after a guy made a move like that, much less a declaration of that magnitude, wasn’t some kind of phone call in order?

By the time she left for work, confusion had morphed firmly into annoyance. What the hell? Two years and he’d barely kept in touch, given no indication there was anything there.

He’d managed to keep it totally on the down low, from her of all people.

She shook her head, muttering to herself as she wiped down the bar and readied the glassware for the night. She might not be looking for herself, but she had what she considered a more highly evolved sense of when someone was lusting after someone else.

Either Jack was a master at masking that kind of thing, or the last two years had wreaked total havoc on her intuition.

In any case, it was wholly unfair of him to drop a bomb
like that, to kiss her like that—like he was desperate for the taste of her and only her—and then leave her hanging without so much as a call or a text.

Talia snatched up a corkscrew and wrenched the corks from several bottles of wine.

“Is everything okay?” Susie watched her from the entrance of the main dining room.

“Yeah, why?” A cork came free of a bottle of cab with a satisfying pop.

“If you’re not careful, you’re going to crack the neck off that bottle.”

Talia loosened her grip and carefully set the bottle down on the back bar. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

Susie approached the bar, lines of concern creasing her usually smooth forehead. “Is this about the necklace? Did they find out who sent it?”

The mention of it immediately sent Talia’s stomach plummeting, reminding her that she had much bigger things to worry about than Jack’s unexpected advances.

“Not yet,” she said, grim. “And to make it worse, I got some flowers last night.”

Susie cocked a perfectly waxed blond brow. “How do flowers make it worse?”

“It was a gardenia plant—the same kind of flowers he used to give me.” No need to clarify who
he
was since Susie knew all about her past with David Maxwell.

Susie winced. “Let me guess—no idea who they’re from.”

Talia shook her head. “It has to be someone close to him. The only other person who knew he gave me gardenias was Rosario.”

Susie gave a little shudder. “You called the police, right?”

“For all the good it did. As of now, anonymously giving jewelry and flowers isn’t a crime.”

Susie rolled her eyes. “Right. But they’ll get right on it once you have a knife in your chest—” She clapped her hand over her mouth as she realized what she’d said. “Oh, God, that wasn’t funny—”

Talia gave a little laugh and held up her hand. “No offense taken. Anyway, you’re right. Until someone actually threatens me or tries to hurt me, there’s nothing they can do about it.”

“Well, you should tell Jack, if you haven’t already. He seems to jump at the chance to come to your rescue.”

Talia wasn’t sure if she was being paranoid or if there was a snide undertone in Susie’s voice. Either way, the mention of Jack brought a rush of heat to her face.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, and ducked down beneath the bar under the guise of retrieving glasses, praying Susie hadn’t noticed her blush.

But as she straightened, she found Susie studying her as if she were a bug under a microscope. “Something happened.” It wasn’t a question.

Talia’s cheeks flamed higher. “No, nothing, I mean, not really—”

“Spill it,” Susie said.

Talia pressed her lips together, debating whether to tell Susie the truth. Susie had made no secret of her interest in Jack, and Talia didn’t want to hurt her feelings. But the tangled mess of confused desire was too much for her to keep contained.

“Jack kissed me,” Talia blurted. At Susie’s urging, Talia quickly filled her in on how Jack had practically mauled her at the gym. How he’d kissed her with heart-pounding
desperation before telling her how much he wanted her. Wanted her to want him back. How Jack’s kiss had sent electricity surging through every pore. “I haven’t felt anything like that since high school,” Talia said, amazement in her voice.

Susie leaned back. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“I guess I’m surprised I liked it so much. And I had no idea he was even attracted to me—”

“Then you’re the only one,” Susie said. “The other night? In my office? There was so much heat coming off you I was afraid my office was going to spontaneously combust.”

Talia shrugged. “Even so, probably nothing is going to come of it, not after I ran out of there like a freak, and he hasn’t even called me, just a text telling me to let him know if I get any more creepy gifts.”

Susie smiled knowingly. “You’ll hear from him before the night is through. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he just happens to show up at your place later, just to make sure you’re safe. Maybe he’ll even tuck you into bed, tell you a naughty bedtime story—”

Talia slapped at her with her rag and Susie skittered away with a laugh.

The place began to fill, and soon Talia was kept hopping. She was grateful for the distraction the crowd provided. It meant that she could only check her phone every fifteen minutes or so to see if, following Susie’s predictions, Jack had been in touch, and it kept her from watching the door the entire night, hoping he’d show up in person.

A group of business types bellied up for happy hour. Later a pack of women came in, laughing and chattering
as they ordered bottle after bottle of wine. From snippets of conversation, Talia deduced they were a group of moms ready to tie one on and let their hair down away from their children.

Talia didn’t care who they were, as long as they tipped well and didn’t argue when she took their car keys shortly before last call. She watched as the last woman fell into a cab. The bar was now silent except for an alternative rock song playing softly over the stereo system.

Reality began to creep in, and with it thoughts of Jack, the kiss, and the unsettling “gifts” she’d received in the past week.

Talia buttoned up the bar and went back to the office to retrieve her purse. Susie was at the desk, stylish, heavy-framed glasses perched on her nose as she stared at the computer screen.

“Good night tonight?” She looked up as Talia came in.

“Excellent night,” Talia replied. “We cleared over five hundred in tips at the bar alone.”

“Thank God,” Susie said. “I’ve been trying to streamline costs—changing our liquor vendor like you suggested has helped, but we’re still running thin.”

Talia nodded sympathetically. The restaurant business was merciless in the best of cases and got hit doubly hard when the economy took a dump. The fact that Suzette’s had survived the past few years was a home run. “I’ll look over the bar numbers again tomorrow and see if there’s any other places to cut.”

Susie thanked her. “You heading out?”

Talia nodded. “If that’s okay with you. I haven’t sat down since five-thirty. I think I’m about to collapse.” She collected her coat and her purse from the hook on the wall.

She started out the back door to her car and gave a startled cry as a heavy hand fell on her shoulder. She whirled and found herself nose to chest with Peter, one of the sous-chefs. He was six foot three and easily three hundred pounds and looked like he should be lining up on a football field instead of stirring risotto at the stove.

He held up his hands, a look of embarrassed apology on his dark face. “Sorry, Talia, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just a little jumpier than usual. See you tomorrow.” She started for her car, but Peter stayed in step with her as they reached her little Honda. “Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked as she fished out her keys. In the six months that she’d worked at Suzette’s, she’d had a few friendly conversations with Peter, but he didn’t usually seek her out.

“Susie told us some weirdo is sending you stuff,” he said. “We agreed we’re gonna take turns making sure you get home safe.”

The gesture was so kind and so unexpected that Talia felt the sting of tears in her eyes. “Oh, that’s so nice, but not necessary—”

He held up one massive hand. “We don’t have security in the parking lot and you live by yourself.”

“I appreciate a walk to the car, but following me home is too much to ask.”

“Between all of us, no one has to go more than once a week, and you’re only five minutes away. It’ll make us feel better if we know you’re home safe.”

Talia searched his face, looking for an angle. But all she saw in his dark, kind eyes was sincere concern. She felt a prick of shame that she was so scarred that her gut instinct was to question his motives.