A Reason To Breathe (17 page)

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Authors: C.P. Smith

BOOK: A Reason To Breathe
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“What? Why?”

“Babe, I know the link to these women, why he’s killing brunettes.” Confused how he figured that out fighting with the killer, I asked him.

“How do you know?” He paused before answering taking a deep breath.

“Because it’s you.”

My head spun when I heard that, and the words of the killer came back to me,
“You’re corrupting her, I have to kill you.”
Shaking my head, I took a step back, but Jack grabbed me and held me close, as denial turned to fear, and I started shaking. “No, no, no, that’s not true.” I shouted, but I knew, I knew he was right. I pushed hard against him trying to get away, but he didn’t budge, panicking, I started breathing too fast.

“Jenn, stop, Baby listen to me, I’ll find him, I promise you.”

“No, it’s not true, it’s not true.”

“Jenn?” Was all I heard before my brain shut him out, and then lights went out… Not the house lights, no, I passed clean out like some Victorian heroine in a cheesy romance novel, and in the back of my mind as I slipped into darkness, I wondered if Jack thought I worth this trouble, or was rethinking his stance on kryptonite.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Don't Say You're Sorry

 

 

 

       “Goddammit, get the fuck out.” “You’re corrupting her, I have to kill you.” “Jaaaack” “Babe, I know the link to these women, why he’s killing brunettes.” ”Because it’s you.” ”No, no, no.”
  “Nooo, no, no.” I shot up, looking around and finding myself in Jack’s bedroom. The lights were back on, and the door to the room was closed. A feeling of dread ran through my exhausted body. Jack thinks the killer knows me; he’s killing because of me? Why? I’ve been here four months, who have I angered so much they would kill women to punish me? Why not kill just me if he hates me so much?

Needing to move, adrenaline coursing through my body, causing my heart rate to increase, I knew the signs of an anxiety attack. Right after Doug died, and my life was uncertain, I would get them at night. With Bailey off at school and Mom, Dad, and my brother, Ted, all living so far away, I just felt alone, unsure and weirdly, forgotten. I need to run, burn this off.

In bare feet and not giving at fuck, I ran to the bedroom door, threw it open and hightailed it down the hall. When I hit the living room, Jack was there in a discussion with Barry, Grady and Phil. Without a word to any of them, I headed straight to the kitchen door, threw it open, and took off. Cold air hit my face, the shock of it clearing my head. I was surprised the temperature had dropped so much, but I didn’t really feel it, so I kept right on running. I heard shouting behind me; surprised it was Barry. I couldn’t stop; I had to get this adrenaline burnt off or an anxiety attack the likes I’d never had, would cripple me. Jack lived on a dead end street, and I’d headed towards the dead end and when I reached it, I turned around and headed back the way I came. As I got closer to Jack’s house, I could see him standing at the end of his driveway, arms crossed over his chest just watching me. I looked at him and shook my head; I needed to keep running to get this out, and I needed him not to stop me. Like he understood, he gave me a chin lift and left me to it.

Twenty minutes and two bruised and bleeding feet later, I came to a stop about hundred feet from Jack’s house. Still standing, watching me, the lights from an old-time, gas street lamp, glowing down on me as his guide, he walked towards me then stopped in front of me, looking down.

“You get it out?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Without another word, he bent at the waist and picked me up, carrying me back to his house. We entered through the front door, and three sets of eyes were on me. All had a look of concern, but a secondary look of, “is she gonna freak out again.” I was too tired to care. Jack placed me on his couch, and then bent down to look at my feet.

“You need to soak these, I’ll run a bath.” Was all Jack said before he moved down the hall. I turned back to the guys and smiled weakly, then fell against the couch and closed my eyes. I heard a cough, and I turned my head to see Barry ready to ask me something. I raised my hand to stop him.

“I’m fine, I needed a moment to sort through what’s happened.”

“About that, we need to ask you some questions since Jack was the victim, he can’t be involved in the investigation.”

“Fine, ask away, I won’t break.” At least I didn’t think I would, but I’d already passed clean out, and my new independent womanhood had taken a bruise to her ego.

“Did you notice anything about the guy that would help in identifying him? His height, hair color, build, a tattoo, anything, even a smell that might be distinct.”

Closing my eyes, the fight clear in my head, I saw the knife, the height of the men struggling and started listing everything I remembered to Barry while keeping my eyes closed and in the memory.

“He was shorter than Jack, maybe six foot two, he had a knit cap on his head, the kind with the eyes and mouth cut out, like bank robbers wear. The knife had lots of those sharp ridges on them like Rambo carried, and if I had to guess his size, I would say a lot leaner than Jack. I didn’t get close enough to smell him, except when he touched me as he ran past, but all I smelt was fresh air, like he’d been standing outside a long time.”

“Jenn.” My eyes flew open when I heard Jack call my name; he was crouched down in front of me again, watching me.

“He touched you when he ran past?”       

“His hand, his fingers, they ran down my arm when he passed me.” Jack turned to Barry, and the boys, and something silent passed between them.

“Jack? Are you sure, 100 percent sure this about me?” I knew the answer; it made sense once you looked at it rationally, women who looked like me died, I met Jack and now women he dated were dying. He’d said, “You’re corrupting her,” to Jack. This man, whoever he was, seemed to think I needed to be protected from Jack, but why was he killing?

“Jenn, it’s like puzzles pieces, separately they made no sense, but together they form a picture, and that picture is you.”

I looked away from his face and nodded my understanding. Without looking at any of them, I thought about the loss of life because some lunatic had an obsession with me. Me, simple Jennifer, from simple Kansas, who wanted a simple life in the beautiful mountains and possibly have some adventures while living a childhood dream, was the obsession of a killer. For those women who were dead, I wished I’d never come here. For the women who could die because of me, I knew in my gut I’d have to leave. If I slipped away when no one was watching, I could get out without the killer knowing, and save the life of whoever was next. I thought about all of my options, and this was the only one that made sense. Leave and save lives, or stay and endanger everyone, no choice really? My mind made up; I just needed to get away from Jack…

 

 

*
                            *                            *

 

 

       Jack gave me clothes to wear after my bath, a huge, soft t-shirt that smelled like him, and sweat pants I rolled at the waist to keep up. Luckily, I’d had time while soaking in the tub, to come up with an excuse to get to my car and get out of town. I’m going to ask Barry to drive me to my car under the premise I needed it for work. Hopefully Jack will agree to let me get my car since he insisted I had to stay with him till the killer was caught, and can’t expect me to be stuck here without transportation. Jack needed stitches on his shoulder, and Phil was going to drive him to the hospital. I figured that would give me enough time to get home, pack a bag and hit the road. To where? I’d figure that out on the road, but first I had to get to my car. I was sitting on his couch thinking about what I needed to do, where I could go, should I get cash, call Bailey, and a million other things when his voice broke my concentration.

“Babe, worrying about something you have no control over will accomplish nothing... Except frown lines you women are always complaining about.” Looking at Jack and seeing his blue eyes twinkle at me, I tried for a smile I wasn’t feeling and then nodded my head. Thinking now would be a good time to bring up the subject of my car; I took a deep breath and went for it.

“Jack while you’re getting stitched up, I need to get my car. Can Barry drive me to it?” Jack watched me for a moment then looked over at Barry, studied him, then said “Stand up.” Barry stood with a confused look on his face as Jack walked up to him and looked down. He looked Barry over, and then spoke over his shoulder to me.

“Barry isn’t tall enough to be the killer,” Jack explained, and I jerked my head back, shocked, he’d even considered Barry. Barry got angry of course, then crossed his arms over his chest and glared.

“What the fuck, Jack, you thought I was the killer?”

“No, but whoever this fuck is has an obsession with Jenn, and you’ve been obvious about your feelings for her, so I had to be sure.”

Barry’s face turned red, and he looked away. I got embarrassed for him and felt the heat come up my face. Jack was right, of course, but Jack being Jack didn’t even try to soften his remarks, and that had to sting no matter who you were. Barry turned back and looked at me, and then with a grin said, “Man would have to be blind not to notice you.” I bit my lips to keep from laughing and crying at the same time. My life was a nightmare.

God, how had it come to this?  Barry was a great guy, but he wasn’t Jack, no man was, but it didn’t matter that Jack was wonderful, and I was falling hard for him, because, after tonight, I didn’t know if I would see him again.

“You done flirting with my woman? If so, take her to her car and make sure she gets back here in one piece.” Barry nodded wiping the smile from his face and then turned to me.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, give me a second will you?”

“I’ll just wait by the door, take your time.” Nodding, I turned to Jack and tried to keep my heart rate from racing. Jack didn’t know it, but this could be the last time he saw me, and the thought I might never come back to this man was cutting me deep. Jack started talking first, so I bit my lips and listened, determined I wouldn’t cry.

“I’ll see you when I get back, shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.” Afraid I might cry if I spoke, I nodded I understood, then got up on my toes and kissed Jack gently on his mouth. Jack didn’t close his eyes, and neither did I. I wanted to take that with me and hold it close when I was lonely or scared, his face, warm and loving looking down on me as I said goodbye.

“Goodbye, Jack.” I whispered, and then turned to leave. Jack grabbed my hand and pulled me back, both hands to my face, he crashed his mouth on mine, kissing me like he knew he’d never see me again. When he pulled back, he put his head to mine and whispered; “I’ll see you when I get back, yeah?”

“I’ll see you soon,” was all I could reply, because that was something I hoped would come to pass. The killer caught, women out of danger and me returning to this life I’d started for myself, and this amazing man who made me feel so many things. I grabbed my purse and clothes and then headed to the door, when I reached Barry, I turned back to get one last look at Jack, one last memory to take with me in case I never returned. I smiled at him, and he grinned back, and then gave me a chin lift. I took a deep calming breath, turned, and walked out the door, and out of Jack’s life.

 

 

*                            *                            *

 

Two hours later…

 

 

       The lights of a highway patrol vehicle and it’s siren got my attention, as I headed down the highway. I looked in my rear-view, and wondered if I’d been speeding. Pulling over, I put my Jeep in park and waited for the officer. A nice looking man about forty got out, walked up to my window and tapped. Rolling my window down a small amount, I looked up at the man and waited for him to speak.

“Are you Jennifer Stewart?” My eyebrow reached my forehead at this stranger knowing my name and stupidly nodded the affirmative.

“Ma’am I have instructions from the Gunnison County Sheriff’s department to tell you and I quote, “Get your sweet ass back to town or I’ll tan your hide.” I cried out a laugh at the audacity of that man. I guess Jack found my note.

“You can tell the Sheriff, I’m not coming back until the killer is caught. If I’m gone, he won’t have a reason to kill.”

“Ma’am, Sheriff Gunnison told me to tell you that if you were stubborn enough to disagree with this request, I was to handcuff you and bring you in forcefully for trespassing.” That got a gasp from me, and I narrowed my eyes.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Ma’am, if my woman were going off half-cocked, running in an attempt to protect others from a killer, I’d do the same thing.”

“I’m not going off half-cocked, I thought this through while in the bathtub.” Mr. Highway patrolman shook his head and then looked to the heavens for patience.

“Ma’am honest to god, you need to turn your vehicle around and head back to Gunnison. For all you know the killer is following you and you won’t be safe from him alone on the road, or anywhere.” Sighing in exasperation, why do all men think they can boss you around?

“I appreciate your advice, officer, but I’ve watched my rear-view and no one has been following me.” He shook his head again obviously thinking I was a crazy woman with a death wish, and then turned it as lights came up behind us. I looked in my rear-view and watched as Jack got out of his truck and moved towards my Jeep.
Shit.
The patrolman moved to him, spoke for a minute, and shook his head again. While I was contemplating whether or not I could outrun both of them in my Jeep, Jack slapped the patrolman on the back and the officer looked back at me again with little more than the male equivalent of  “women, heaven help us
.” Yeah? Well hang around, you think I’m stubborn, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

Jack watched him leave, then looked back at my Jeep assessing the situation, or counting to a hundred was probably more like it. He looked back at his truck, then looked back at my Jeep. Decision made; he walked up to my door, leaned down and instead of barking out an order said, “Scoot over, Babe, I’m driving.” I looked back at his truck and saw no one in the cab, and asked, “What about your truck?”

“I’ll get it in the morning, now scoot over, I’m driving you back so you can’t take off again.” His tone was starting to change to frustration, and I knew I wouldn’t win this battle, so I unlocked the door and scooted into the passenger seat feeling defeated that I hadn’t escaped. Jack got in, buckled up and started my Jeep, but, before pulling back on the road, he turned to me and without any preamble laid down the law. The word “brace” flew through my mind when I looked at his face.

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