Hard to Hold on To (6 page)

“I do,” Sara said in a tear-strained voice. “It’s my fault that Bruno came after you. Because he was looking for me. He found out I’d been talking to Shane after I accidentally left a cell phone Shane gave me in Bruno’s office. So stupid.”

Jenna shook her head. “None of that matters. It’s all just proof that Bruno was a controlling, possessive asshole.” She leaned her forehead against Sara’s. “Please don’t think any of this was your fault. I’ve been enough of a burden to you without adding this to all the things you’ve had to deal with.”

Sara sat ramrod straight. “You have
never, ever
been a burden to me.”

Tilting her head, Jenna gave her a small smile though her throat went tight. “Come on. You were a nineteen-year-old college sophomore when Dad died, and you had to come home, drop out of college, and take care of me. And that’s not even including all the stuff you had to do to be able to pay for my epilepsy meds and keep us safe. By any definition, that’s a burden.”

“I never felt that way about any of it, Jenna. And I’m so sorry if I’ve given you the impression that I see you that way.”

“No, you haven’t—”

“I have an idea,” Sara said, squeezing her hand. “How about I promise not to blame myself for your k-kidnapping, and you promise not to ever think you were a burden to me.”

Jenna stared at her sister a long minute, the words and the brightness in Sara’s eyes luring her in.

“Clean slate, Jen.”

Clean slate? The idea was tempting and scary and . . . exactly what they needed. She nodded. “Clean slate. I promise.”

“I promise, too,” Sara said, pulling Jenna into a hug.

They sat that way for a long time, and it was like a weight lifting off Jenna’s chest.

“Do you want to talk about what happened? At Confessions, I mean?” Sara asked against her hair.

Jenna shook her head and pulled out of the hug. “No,” she whispered.

“If anybody would understand, it would be me,” Sara said hopefully.

Forcing herself to meet her sister’s gaze, Jenna said, “I know. But I . . . I just . . . don’t want to.” She hated the flash of hurt and disappointment in Sara’s eyes, but Jenna wasn’t ready to put herself back in that place any more than she had to.

“Okay. Standing offer, though. Please know that.”

“Of course.” Out of nowhere, a wave of nausea washed through her. Jenna grasped her stomach and groaned. “Tummy is not happy with the soda, I think.”

“Gonna be sick?”

“God, I hope not. Maybe I’ll just rest.” Jenna crawled toward the pillow. “Bring the bucket closer just in case?”

“Do you want me to stay?” Sara asked as she got off the bed, grabbed the bucket from across the room, and placed it next to the bed.

“No, that’s okay. Go be with Shane,” she said, enjoying the bit of pink that filled into Sara’s cheeks. Jenna chuckled despite her rolling belly.

“I’ll check on you in a bit,” Sara said. On her way out, she flicked off the overhead light, leaving only the little lamp in the corner to throw off light.

It’s not dark. Don’t freak out. There’s plenty of light. Right.

Jenna closed her eyes, thinking maybe she could sleep off the nausea. Problem was, when she closed her eyes, images she didn’t want to see played on the insides of her eyelids. Bruno busting through her bedroom door. The gun in her face as she lay tied on the floor in the back of the van. The suffocating darkness of the black room.

Staring up at the men groping her while she lay helpless, unable to move a muscle.

Heart racing so loud it pounded blood behind her ears, her eyes blinked open, her gaze settling on the small lamp. A shiver passed over her body until she couldn’t stop shaking.

And despite being rescued, Jenna couldn’t help but wonder if she’d really ever be able to escape what had happened at Confessions.

Chapter 4

J
ENNA MADE IT
maybe twenty-five minutes. Twenty-five minutes before she was nearly so terrified she was ready to scream for help.

As she flew off the bed, out of the room, and through the apartment, she hated herself for not being braver, for not being stronger, for not being tougher.

Her brain knew she was being irrational, but that didn’t keep her imagination from conjuring every horrible scenario, her ears from hearing suspicious noises, and her heart from hammering like an attack was imminent.

Until she couldn’t convince herself it wasn’t true.

She only noticed the apartment enough to know she was alone. Racing down the stairs, she held tight to the gray metal railing, afraid in her shakiness that she’d go tumbling to the bottom. At the next landing were two gray doors, both with keypads next to them. Music sounded out from behind the one on the left, so she tried there. Locked. She knocked. Again. Then again. No answer.

She crossed the hall to the other door and knocked again. Nothing.

The shaking worsened. It was like a nightmare where you found one door after another but none would open.

Jenna started down the stairs again and found a door right at the bottom. More music played, but this one opened when she tried the handle, so she raced in.

She skidded into what looked like a lounge with couches grouped in one corner and a couple of tables and chairs filling the center. One wall had a large painting, almost like graffiti, that read, “Bleed with me and you will forever be my brother” in shades of reds and grays and blacks.

“Hello? Is anybody here?” she called.

Just then, a black-and-tan puppy came out of one of the rooms off the hallway in front of her and loped her way. The little thing was missing a leg, but its gait didn’t seem too badly impacted by the loss.

“Hey, who are you?” came a woman’s voice.

Jenna’s gaze flashed up and landed on a petite woman standing in the hallway near one of the doorways. Dressed all in black, she had bright red highlights in her jet hair and tattoos all the way down both arms to her hands, currently covered by rubber gloves.

“I’m . . . J . . . Je . . .” She tried to swallow, but the panic was now gripping her throat.
Get a grip, Jenna!
But she couldn’t.

“What’s going on?” said a man as he stepped out of the facing room. His gaze cut from the black-haired woman to her, and he smiled. “Hey, Jenna. How are you? Sorry, I had earbuds in. Jess, this is Jenna, Sara’s sister,” he said, walking toward her. And then his expression fell and he rushed over. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?” he said, gently grasping her upper arms.

She flinched, not because she was scared of him—he seemed friendly enough—but because her central nervous system was on high alert. She couldn’t help herself.

Next thing she knew, he took her by the hand and guided her to a couch. The little puppy followed and danced around their feet. They sat, the man never letting go of her hand, even as the puppy chewed one of his shoestrings. The guy fished his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. “I’ll get your sister. Don’t worry.”

“No,” she managed though it came out more as a moan. If Sara saw her like this again, she wouldn’t be able to keep her promise not to blame herself. She wouldn’t be able to
not
worry. And Jenna couldn’t keep her own promise not to feel like a burden if Sara was upset over Jenna. What a mess.

“No? Not Sara?” he asked.

Jenna shook her head, but wasn’t sure if he’d be able to tell with how bad she trembled.

“Hey, Jess? Can you grab that blanket from my room?” he called over his shoulder.

The woman appeared a moment later with a black-and-purple fleece, and the man took it from her and shook it out. “I guess I can forgive that Steelers shirt. Just this once.” He winked, held up the Baltimore Ravens logo on the corner of the blanket, and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then he grasped her hand again.

“Th-th-thank you,” she managed, as the warmth settled over her. Already, being around other people was helping take the worst edge off her panic.

“You’re welcome. I’m Jeremy, by the way. Nick’s brother. Oh, have you met Nick yet?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Well, we’ll get you introduced to everyone. Don’t worry. Nick and I own this place,” he said. “Welcome to Hard Ink Tattoo.” Another wink, then he scooped the puppy into his arm. “And this little monster is Eileen.” The puppy licked Jeremy’s jaw, making him laugh.

He was so friendly that a smile tugged at the corner of Jenna’s lips. She nodded, then she heaved a deep breath. “E-Easy?”

Jeremy tilted his head. “Easy? You want E?”

Jenna gave a fast nod.

“I think he’s up in the gym. Think you can walk?” He placed the puppy on the floor and shooed her away.

“Yeah.” But when they stood, the room went a little wobbly around her. If she could just get in a deep breath . . .

“Whoa,” Jeremy said, catching her by the shoulders. “Maybe you should wait here, and I’ll—”

“No,” she rushed out. “I c-can do it.” She closed her eyes, pictured Easy’s face from before, and forced a couple of not-deep-enough breaths. When she felt less shaky, she gave a nod.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to keep ahold of you on the steps so you don’t lose your balance. Would that be all right?” He peered down so he could see in her eyes. And now that the panic was easing off, Jenna could take in just how cute Jeremy was. Disheveled, dark brown hair, pale green eyes, piercings on his lip and eyebrow, and lots and lots of ink.

“ ’Kay.” As they made their way back out of Hard Ink and up the steps, Jeremy kept up a steady stream of chatter, and though Jenna couldn’t really follow the names of all the people he was talking about, his presence was calming and distracting. Before she knew it, he was punching a code into a keypad outside the door she’d knocked on before, the one with the music, and they stepped inside.

The room was huge. All cement floors, brick walls, and exposed beams, and filled with tons of gym equipment.

And there was Easy. Pounding out a fast run on a treadmill.

Jeremy guided her closer.

Easy’s feet sounded out a steady
thump-thump
as they hit the surface, but what Jenna most noticed was that he was shirtless. And every bit as cut as she’d imagined earlier. His shoulders bunched, and his back muscles rippled as his thick arms pumped. A pair of workout pants hung dangerously low on his hips, highlighting how narrow his waist was compared to his chest and shoulders. Beautiful, athletic, strong.

Jenna could already take a deeper breath.

“Easy?” Jeremy called over the music. “Hey, E?”

Looking over his shoulder, Easy’s dark eyes went wide. He immediately grasped the hand rests and jumped so that his feet straddled the moving belt, then he powered down the machine. “What’s up?” he asked, his gaze focused on Jenna’s face the whole time.

She tried to keep her eyes on his face, she really did. But as he grabbed a towel, turned, and walked toward her, she couldn’t help but drink in the incredible definition of his chest and stomach.
Fit
didn’t begin to describe this guy. He was . . . perfect. Gorgeous. Especially with sweat making his dark skin glisten. Not to mention the tattoo of a cross on a chain that went around his neck and down his chest and another with arrows and a dagger on his biceps.

“Uh, Jenna . . . needs you,” Jeremy said.

Heat roared into her cheeks. He wasn’t wrong, but his words combined with her current thoughts beckoned the reaction.

Easy frowned and came right up to her. “Thanks, Jeremy. I have this,” he said in a deep voice.

“Welcome,” Jeremy said. “You ever need me, now you know where to find me. Anytime. Okay?” he said to her.

“Okay,” she said, dragging her gaze away from Easy to give Jeremy a smile. “Thanks for this,” she said, handing him his blanket and finally noticing the shirt that he wore. It had the words, “The Man,” with an arrow pointing upward, following by, “The Legend,” with an arrow pointing downward.

He grinned and winked when he saw her reading his shirt. He gestured toward himself. “It’s true, you know. Jus’ sayin’.”

“
Good-bye,
Jeremy,” Easy said.

Jenna managed a breathy chuckle. “Thanks, Jeremy.”

And then she was alone with Easy. His fingers settled on her chin and brought her gaze back to his face. “What’s going on?” he asked, the intensity of his gaze a little hard to hold.

“It’s kinda stupid,” she said, feeling more and more self-conscious about her panic attack the more she calmed down.

His eyes narrowed. “Doubt that. Just tell me.”

“I was trying to sleep in your room and I . . . got . . . um, scared.” She looked down, though Easy’s grasp wouldn’t let her move her head away.

“Look at me, Jenna,” he said. She did. “You got scared, and you . . . wanted me?”

Heat roared into her cheeks until they were on fire. This guy was probably cursing the day they’d ever met. They barely knew each other, yet Jenna couldn’t stop depending on him. Like she had any right to do so. Like he’d want to be saddled with a woman who couldn’t stop puking or crying or freaking out. She closed her eyes and nodded. “Yeah.” She released a breath, and her shoulders sagged under the weight of her admission.

“
Look
at me, Jenna,” he said again, more sternly this time.

Her eyelids popped back open. And found his brown eyes absolutely blazing back at her.

E
ASY’S HEART
POUNDED
in his chest. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the five miles he’d just run.

Jenna needed him.

Fierce protectiveness and a deep masculine satisfaction roared through him. She’d sought him out for comfort, for strength, for protection.

Not only that, she was wearing
his
shirt. And she’d been staring at his body like she was fucking hungry.

Needless to say, the past few minutes had tripped
all kinds
of switches in Easy’s brain where Jenna Dean was concerned. But he had to dial himself down. She was scared. And hurt. And clearly traumatized by everything that’d happened.

He leaned down to look her in the eye, trying not to focus on the bruises—he didn’t want to make her feel self-conscious, and he sure as hell didn’t want to get any more enraged on her behalf than he already was. “You
ever
need me, for any reason, I am here for you. No questions asked. Got that?” He brushed his knuckles down her uninjured cheek.

“Yes,” she said, giving him a quick nod and leaning into his touch. And damn if that didn’t make him feel ten feet tall—a notable feat for a guy who’d felt beaten down for most of the past year.

He gently rubbed his hands over her arms. “What do you need right now?”

“I don’t even know.” Pretty blue eyes searched his. “I’ve been fighting nausea off and on, but I can’t sleep because I get scared when I’m alone. I’m hungry, but I’m afraid to eat anything. And I don’t want Sara to know any of this because I don’t want to upset her.” Her gaze flickered off to her right, and Easy looked that way to find Marz and Charlie sitting at the desk in the corner, working but occasionally glancing their way.

“That’s Marz and Charlie. Would you like to meet them?”

She ducked her face, and with that one gesture Easy knew she wasn’t ready for people to see her like this. Bruised and shaken and scared. And he found himself wishing he’d been the one to kill Bruno all over again.

“How ’bout we wait for the intros ’til you’re feeling a little better?” he asked. The relief that filled her expression reached into his chest and squeezed his heart.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He focused on what she’d said, and wondered which of her concerns he might be able to address. She needed sleep, food, security. Hell, he could handle all of that, if she’d let him. And, damn, feeling not only needed but useful? It was like hitting the damn jackpot.

“Do you think you could sleep if you weren’t alone?” he asked.

Her eyes went wide, and he saw the answer on her face before she even replied. And it filled his gut with all kinds of
Hell, yes.

“Maybe,” she finally said.

Maybe, his ass. But he played it cool even though his mind was truly trippin’ over how good it felt to be needed.

“Come on, then.” He folded her little hand inside his much bigger one and guided her toward the door. Walking next to her emphasized how small she was compared to him. Her head just reached his shoulder. The disparity made him feel that much more protective of her.

They took the steps slowly, and Easy couldn’t help but draw satisfaction from the fact that her trembles had almost completely died away. But he didn’t let that fool him into thinking she was okay. She’d had two panic attacks within a few hours’ time. It seemed he wasn’t the only one very likely rockin’ some PTSD.

Of all the things to find in common with this woman, he really wished that weren’t among them.

And here they were stuck in the middle of a situation in which it would be hard to get her the help she needed. Wasn’t like they could just run all over Baltimore. Not with Church very likely looking for Sara and Jenna, not to mention their rescuers. Rock, meet hard place. Fuck you very much.

Inside the apartment, Easy led Jenna to his bedroom, where the little lamp on the floor was still lit. “Would you be okay if I took a quick shower? I won’t if you’d rather—”

“No, of course it’s okay,” she rushed out, her gaze dragging down his chest again. Just like she’d done in the gym.

Easy swallowed hard and willed his body not to react. But, damn, it had been a long time since a woman had looked at him the way Jenna was doing now. Way he’d been feeling, it’d been a damn long time since he’d even put himself out there. Turned out being pretty well convinced you were a worthless piece of shit responsible for the death of your best friend didn’t put you in the dating frame of mind. Go figure.

Annnd that thought quickly doused any arousal Jenna’s gaze had been stirring.

“Okay, then. Be right back,” he said. When she nodded and smiled, he left for the bathroom, shut the door, and ditched his clothes. He’d taken some fast showers in his day. Hell, during basic, they’d had three minutes to get in and out of the shower all while their drill sergeant hovered over them with a stopwatch. This shower was on par with those.