If Tomorrow Never Comes (29 page)

As
if spinning a roulette wheel, Scorpio continued to strip Jordan of her
rebelliousness.
 
“Of course, my precious,
you could pull the trigger of the gun in your lap but then one of my marksmen
would have to shoot the man entering the club behind you.”
 

Every
ones’ attention found a starkly masculine clean-shaven face, Jakes hair
meticulously cut and styled, the snappy white tuxedo revealing a sinewy
musculature like a second skin.
 
Blatantly there was handsomeness impossible to ignore.
  
Jake's reputation endorsed by his
countenance, the embodiment of arrogance and poise, and his slow, easy
movements spoke of a self-confidence forged by experience.
 
Square shouldered and erect, simply strolling
through the club commanded everyone's admiration.
  
Oh, not from his appearance alone, they
sensed the ruthlessness in his eyes, the violence making him capable of
anything.

Jake’s
entrance further aided in concealing three people that had entered the club
long before Jordan and were seated unseen by either Billy or Scorpio.
 
Positioned behind the enemy, the high back
chairs facilitated their camouflage.
 
Having been unable to locate Jake, what they knew remained their secret.
   
        

Marla
was thankful that she was sitting.
 
The
sight of Jake robbed her breath.
 
Completely
unstable, she felt her heart leap like a bird exploding from a cage, flaring,
soaring, and swooping.
  
Nervous fingers
locked.
 
It had been a long time since
she'd seen the elegant, magnanimous Jake.
 
He was, too good-looking, too assured, too male, too much the goddamn
hero.
 
Slowly, her black dress seemed to
be consuming her as she shriveled inside.
 
The way she’d, mistreated him, torn his world apart, ate at her far too
long the memories staining her body from inside.
 
Realization hit full force; he was the only
man she ever loved.

Watching
him stroll toward the table, she knew why he came, to claim the woman he
loved.
 
It would not be her.
 
Like an awful blow to the heart, Marla
suddenly understood that if Jake truly loved her he would have snatched her
from Scorpio long before now.
 
Tough to
admit, the feelings filling her, she had coming.
 

Jake's
eyes filled with the sunshine of love were only for Jordan.
 
A look every woman in the world would give up
everything for, Marla believed, if this magnificent man would only look once at
her the same way.
 
Suddenly, she realized
the summer sun never truly rose on their love, the chill of that reality making
her draw in a breath to coax a heart barely functioning back into place.

Plucking
her thoughts from the clouds, Jordan tried to still the alarms blasting her
ears.
 
She was staring at Jake loving him
and fearing for him, her heartbeats clattering like a pair of castanets.
 
The fine bone hand fingering the gun on her
lap shook uncontrollably.
 
Surrounded by
and absorbed in Jake, for a brief moment she became lost in the realization she
loved the crazy fool.
 
He was, gorgeous,
completely edible and she had to admit she was attuned to him with undeniable
sensitivity and precision. The knowledge of what they shared temporary
isolation from the real horror pending.
 
She could not blink, move, or breathe.
  
Jake would have to do it for her.
 
All she envisioned was how his splendid features would shrivel in pain
once he learned the truth about her past.
 
How the pain might return him to the gutter.
 

Grating
her teeth in frustration, “Why now,” she wailed inwardly, when happiness was so
close.
 
Maybe there was a God after all
and he was just waiting for this moment to punish her when it would hurt the
most.
 
Then again, how could she believe
in heaven when she'd only known hell?
 
Even if sentenced to hades tonight, how could it be worse than what
she'd already endured?
 
Truth was she'd
relish teaching the Devil a little about suffering.

As
she gazed at Jake, Butch saw the blush of love come to Marla's face, felt the
vibrations of her heart pulsating, heard her silently crying out.
 
What he wouldn't give if she felt the same
toward him, he pinned.
 
However, tonight
such feelings were inconsequential.
 
What
mattered most was protecting her from Scorpio.
 
Invading danger was, steadily advancing, thickening the air growing hot
yet refusing to rise.

Billy
detected the familiar message in Jake's eyes pleading with Jordan not to
move.
 
Both knew that in a matter of a
split second, death could claim her.
 
Sluggishly, Billy's hand slipped into his pocket, quivering fingers
locking on a gun steadying his staggering thoughts.
                               

Concealed
in a wicker chair; one of the three entering previously, Margaret's chins were
wobbling as she tried to stay her emotions.
  
Pudgy hands clutching and twisting a handkerchief one minute now
retrieved from a purse John's gun that she placed on the table beneath a
napkin, actions that drew a shocked reception from the other members of her
party.
 
Knowing the odds were not
favorable for Jake, if it was the last thing she did, she’d even them a
little.
 
Jake’s expertise would handle
Scorpio while she settled the score with Billy.
 

Two years ago, when her son died of a suspicious overdose she
had no doubt in her mind Scorpio was responsible.
 
Now she knew who carried out the
mandate.
 
Well, he may have gotten her
son; Margaret fumed, while the scriptures of the bible tug-of-warred in her
ears, “An eye for an eye.
 
Vengeance is
mine sayeth the Lord.”
  
Tonight Scorpio
wasn’t going to claim Jake or Jordan, her assurance greatly re-enforced when
the two, one on each side of her withdrew their weapons as well.
                       
          

With
each of Jake’s steps, Jordan could almost see it happening, the change in him,
the ruthlessness, the violence coming to the surface, taking control.
  
She felt his scrutiny, his caution and,
wondered what there was about her that always managed to prick at the demons
inside him.
 
The spot lights of his eyes
so intense, her hand inching upward crept across the tablecloth like a spider
escaping a predator, seeking a cowardly escape in the poisoned wine.

Out
of the corner of her eye, when Marla saw Jordan's hand move toward the glass,
her fingers began gathering the edges of the tablecloth.
  
Her life would be worthless once Jake
learned she was responsible for John's death.
 
She could never endure the wrath of the man who once held her in his arms,
loved her.
  
Nor could someone like her,
accustomed to pampered indolence, serve time in prison.
 
By ending her life tonight, she'd go out in a
blaze of glory.
 
What better gift could
she give the man she loved than to save the life of the one he loved?

Butch
noticed Scorpios' eyes track Jordan and Marla’s moves.
 
Unknown to everyone, he’d been ordered to
plant a gun beneath the table where Scorpio sat.
 
Without batting an eyelash, Scorpio would
kill Marla for the mere thought of betrayal.
 
She should have known he would handle the situation, damn her for not
trusting him.
 
Didn’t she know by now how
much he loved her?
 

Reaching
the table Jake‘s eye's fixed on Jordan's, shadowy caves of gold burning bright
with orange flames that were scorching him.
 
For a moment, he challenged her rebellion, so angry was he that she put
herself in eminent danger, his look enough to make a crazed animal cower.
 
Nonetheless, her baleful glare
continued.
 
Despite himself, like a
whisper, faint and far away, the desire she stirred by simply existing toying
with him was startling.
 
The fact he
could even think of that now was a threat, a hazard.

Jordan's
dress and the body exploding from it were inconsequential.
 
It was her divine soul straining Jake’s heart
dripping blood.
 
She was and always would
be everything to him.
 
Though the sparks
spitting from her eyes were aimed in his direction, he knew the fear for his
safety ignited those embers.
 
The barest
smile tilted the corners of his mouth from knowing she loved him so.
 
Never had he known love, so true, so pure
that no sacrifice was too great, no pain too horrible to endure until tonight
when he saw the love for him in her eyes, a love positioned on a launching pad
destined for disaster.

Sitting
like a living portrait, the tiny movement of Jordan’s hand toward the
glass-triggered memories of long ago.
 
At
once heartache returned Jake to the night of John’s death when John drank
heavily and danced with Brenda.
   
Though
John had been drug free for some time, he'd been showing signs of increased
depression and agitation.
 
When John and
Brenda returned to the table, he tried to convince him to take a taxi
home.
 
Instead, John insisted on one more
drink.
 

Like
the flashing lights at an intersection, horrified, Jake's attention jerked back
to Jordan's glass.
 
Suddenly he’d
remembered how anxious Brenda was to appease John's wish. At that time, he
didn’t believe the woman he loved was capable of murder, now, he was
certain.
 
He couldn't take that chance
again, not with Jordan, and while he prayed for a miracle, terror enveloped him
wondering if she'd already taken a drink.

The
closer Jake got the more tense Jordan grew, like a cat on a hot stove,
skittish, and jumpy.
 
So obsessed with
the package was she, her heart hammering so loudly would surely give her away.
 
Heartbeats that stopped the moment emerald
eye's, pure as truth, fixed her with a compelling stare one that reached out
for her making sweet-talks superfluous.
 

“Jake,”
she sighed wistfully.

The
anguish the word related, like lightning bolts entering the top of Jake's head,
arced off bone, flesh and muscle and worked its way slowly through his mid-section.
  
Jordan was teetering on a fraying tight rope
stretched taut linking life and death.
 
One wrong move, one wrong word, and it would surely snap.
 

“Have
I told you lately how much I love you?”

Long
moments passed before Jordan could choke out a single word, “Still?”

“Always,”
Jake’s voice cracking from the weight of the word.
  

All
eyes were riveted on the pair who seemed impervious to the rest of the world,
their very immobility attracting attention.
 
They were gazing at each other as if the few feet separating them were a
complex maze they were desperately struggling to get through.
 
Deepening the spell, Jake continued, “Do you
know that if anyone ever wrote my life story, you'd be the best thing that ever
happened to me?”
         

Moisture
made Jordan's eyes sparkle.
 
Blinking
rapidly they strayed to the package, then to the goblet.
 
Her face crumbled.
 
How was that possible when he knew nothing
about her, she screamed inside.
 
If he
knew, he would have never come after her.
 
Shame entering her toes worked its way through her turning the roots of
her hair red.

When
Jake saw what Jordan’s eyes sought, though panic seized him, his words remained
as soft as a feather.
 
“You're my one in
a million chance of a life time.
 
Life
made a concession and gave me a stroke of luck, that's you.
 
I've never known love. . .”
 
When he saw Jordan's glance shift to Marla,
then back to him, he continued, “I mean real love, until you.
 
I'm not going to lose you, not now, not
ever.
 
Look at me.
 
Look into my eyes.
 
Can't you see you've always been there, and
always will be.”

Though
I find this scene quite pathetic and touching, I'm afraid you're a little too
late, Morgan.
 
Then again, you always
are.
 
You don’t seem to have very much
luck with people you love, do you?
 
You
see Jordan and I are engaged in a game that should prove quite amusing in the
end.”