Kidnapped Hearts (13 page)

Read Kidnapped Hearts Online

Authors: Cait Jarrod

BOOK: Kidnapped Hearts
8.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Mom.” Paul separated his mother and
Jake. “He didn’t have a choice.”

Elizabeth
glared at Paul then beyond him to Jake. “No choice?” her voice squeaked.

Jake hated what had transpired causing
them so much heartache. He knew firsthand what it was like to lose someone so
close. The day he was told that he had to fake his death to preserve his life
he had argued the decision because he knew the grief his parents and Paul would
endure. Still, he agreed, knowing that one day they would see him and, he
hoped, forgive him.

“No choice?” His father’s deep voice
questioned from behind.

Jake looked at his father staring at the
river. Howard’s hand shook as it passed through his hair. Jake knew where he
picked up the habit. Howard faced Jake, the disappointment palpable on his
face. “Your girlfriend died, and you leave your brother to pick up the pieces,
and us to think you were dead, gone from our lives forever.”

“Dad, it’s not that simple.”

“Explain it to us.” His mother moved
closer, her green eyes waiting for answers. “We suffered as if we had lost you.
Why?”

This was what he expected when he first
entered the house, them demanding answers. “Please sit and let me explain.”

His dad returned to his seat, and Paul
helped his mother into a chair.

Jake tucked his head and paced the length
of the patio, his hands firmly on his hips. “What I have to say has to stay
between us.”

He waited for confirmation before telling
them in detail what transpired, the same story he conveyed to Paul. How his
girlfriend betrayed him by being the mistress of a terrorist he was
investigating. He slumped into his seat, waiting for the aftermath.

Tears fell. “Oh, Sweetheart,”
Elizabeth
gasped. “I wish
I had known what happened.” Standing, she approached Jake and pulled her son
into her embrace. “I could never stay mad at you. I’m grateful that you’re
here.”

The comfort, the forgiveness, and the
unrestrictive love crashed down on him. He held his mother tightly as he shed
unwanted tears.

Howard patted him on the back, followed
by a hug. “We love you, son.” Man of a few words, yet he managed to say a
mouthful.

Paul’s cell phone rang, and he shuffled
away from the table. After scant minutes of listening, he regarded Jake and
grimaced.

“What’s the matter?”
Elizabeth
inquired when Paul disconnected.

“Pamela’s mother, Vivian, had a car
accident. She’s not expected to make it.”

 

 

Chapter
Nine

 

“Damn, cell phones with no reception.”
Pamela slung it across the room. “I need Steve.”

The hospital door opened as the cell
phone flew, thunking against the wall.

“I’m not Steve, but will I do?”

She wiped the tears from her face and
looked at the man beside her bed, the one she had depended on for the last few
days. The man who felt like home, yet didn’t bother to come see her last night.
Surely, Jake had heard about her mother’s accident when Paul received the news.
“Jake.”

“I take it Steve didn’t have good
reception.”

She shook her head, and her eyes drifted
to his hand touching the bare skin on her arm. She craved more. She ached to
feel him against her. If only she could lose herself with him, all the bad
stuff would go away. The stupid bearer bonds that someone believed she had
would disappear, the threatening notes would cease, and people she loved would
stop getting hurt.

“Sorry about your mother.”

Her bottom lip started to quiver,
emotions playing havoc with her sanity. No matter how much she yearned for Jake
to hold her and take her cares away, she didn’t intend to give in to
temptation. They had tried that once, and it hadn’t worked.

But, right now, she couldn’t see past the
want. In emotional turmoil, she needed a way to lessen the emotional pain, the
confusion. She sucked in a breath, trying to fortify herself against her
impulses. It took all her strength not to grab him, pull his body to her, and
melt into him.

Tears leaked from her eyes, and she
closed them. The pain, the anguish from all the crap, barreled down on her. How
much more could she bear? Her mother, despite the fact she left her, was hurt
because of Pamela. She opened her eyes and spilled her thoughts. “It hurts so
badly,” she sobbed. “Make it stop.”

Sitting on the side of the bed, Jake
eased her to him.

She fisted her hands into his button down
shirt and buried her head against his chest. “Jake, make it stop,” she said,
her voice escalating, and then the tears poured. The faucet had turned on, and
she couldn’t find a way to turn it off. “It’s my fault my mom is having
emergency surgery. It’s my fault! I can’t even go see her. The bully FBI agents
in the hall won’t let me.” Her fist hit his chest. “Make it go away, Jake, make
the pain go away,” she bawled.

Jake kissed the top of her head, and his
arms squeezed tightly around her, but the trembling in her body didn’t cease.

“Pamela,” Jake’s voice was gentle, so
tender. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

She shifted until her eyes met his.
“Jake, it’s not me I’m worried about, don’t you see? It’s everyone around me
getting hurt. It kills me. I don’t know what to do to stop it. I don’t have the
damn bearer bonds they think I do. I have no idea why I’m being put in this
mess.”

Jake handed her the hospital issued box
of tissues from the TV tray.

Pamela blew her nose. “Jake, I live a
good life. I’m actually a goody two-shoes. So why in the hell am I being
punished?”

Jake cupped her face and brushed his
thumbs over her cheeks, drying her tears. His eyes locked with hers. “It’s not
your fault. You have to stop feeling guilty.”

She moistened her lips. If he would just
kiss her as he did in the alley, she’d feel alive, and this awful feeling
inside would subside, if only for a moment.

His lips touched hers, the contact
sending warmth through her body. She craved this, coveted it. Her lips parted,
and his tongued moved inside. The pain started to diminish. He withdrew, then
turned his head and covered her lips again. Her hands slid up his chest to his
neck, tugging him closer. His fingers slid beneath the flaps of the hospital
gown, touching her back as he pressed her into him. A low moan vibrated through
his chest, reaching out and grabbing her tender and very sensitive nipples. She
yearned for more. Climbing his body right here, right now sounded good. Yet, as
much as she wished for more, she knew they had better stop.

He must have thought the same, since he
pulled away. His lips were wet from her; his eyes were dilated because of her.
Her lust bade her onward. She sucked in her lips, caught her breath, and
resisted the urge.

They had already established they
couldn’t do this again. Why exactly was that?

He cleared his throat, and one of his
hands slid through his hair while his eyes were glued to her gown. She glanced
down. Her nipples were erected, still aiming at their desire. She started to
cross her arms over her chest, then stopped. Let him look his fill. When his
eyes shifted, they didn’t meet hers. “We can’t. We’ve said it before.” He stood
and moved to the far wall. “I can’t.”

“I know.” What more could she say? He was
supposed to protect her, not tempt her.

“I had myself under control, but when you
looked at me with those big eyes, begging for me to help…”

Her eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute,” the
pain from what was happening in her life disappeared. Fury was taking hold.
“You kissed me out of pity?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, and
his shoulders drooped. “Yeah.”

How could he make such a heartless
comment? She didn’t need this. She had enough unrest. “Get the hell out of my
room!”

He raised one hand. “Let me rephrase.”

She didn’t care how he said it. The
meaning remained the same. Thank goodness, they weren’t somewhere he could have
given her a pity fuck, a pity kiss was bad enough. “Jake, you need to leave.”

A ringing sound came from the floor. Jake
bent down and gathered her phone and its protective sleeve a few inches away.
“Great case. Your phone appears to still work.”

He grinned, but her disappointment kept
her from seeing the levity in the situation. “I’m not available.” She was
ticked enough to spit nails, and she didn’t like to spit.

“It’s your dad.”

“What? You’re looking at my caller ID?
Isn’t that a little bit nosy? Oh, wait. You’re FBI, that’s what you do.” She
sounded like an ungrateful kid, but so what? He had crossed the line.

“Jake Gibson.”

“What are you doing?” Pamela yelled.

“I’ll let her know, sir.”

“Let me know what?”

Jake closed her cell and tossed it on her
bed. “Your mother is out of surgery. She’ll have to live with one lung, but
plenty of people do.”

That brought her back down to reality.
Elbows on her knees, Pamela cradled her head. She had crucial matters to put
her emotions into, rather than Jake’s reaction to her. Her mother had survived.
Marge would be okay. What happened if another person was hurt? Then it occurred
to Pamela, maybe her mother’s accident had nothing to do with her. Paul didn’t
know any details about the accident when he stopped by yesterday evening. She
blew out a breath, letting go some of her antipathy. “Jake, do the authorities
think that my mother’s accident has anything to do with me? I haven’t heard any
details.”

His intake of air confirmed what she
believed, but she waited for him to answer. “A man driving a motorcycle pulled
out in front of your mother. She over-steered to miss him and ran head on into
an oncoming truck. From an eyewitness, we know that the motorcycle was at
fault. Also, the witness was able to give the locals a description of the
driver. They described a leather jacket with a Black Scorpion on the back.”

Pamela dropped her hands. “I can’t
believe this. Where was Nicholas? Why wasn’t he driving her?”

“An agent briefed him. Nicholas claims to
have been in his hotel room while Vivian ran an errand.”

“That late in the evening?”

“Not too late. Around eight.” Jake
stepped close to the bed. “What?”

“Mom never likes driving late in the
evening. She says after four o’clock everyone is off work and driving like
lunatics.”

“Maybe she changed her mind.”

“Maybe. Can you take me to see her? The
hospital has discharged me, but the agents in the hall said they have orders
for me to wait for you before I could leave.” She hated that they had shared a
kiss, had fought, and now he would be her bodyguard, requiring her to ask him
for favors. “I want to see Marge, too.”

“No problem, but given the circumstances,
you won’t be able to linger. There’s a wheelchair in the hall with your name on
it. I’ll give you time to change.”

“Seriously, I have to use a wheelchair?”

“Yes. How’s your head?”

“It’s tender when I touch it, and the
headache isn’t too bad.”

Jake disappeared into the hall while Pamela
changed clothes. She had wanted to change before he arrived, but her mind had
been so focused on her mother and Marge that she hadn’t thought twice about it.
At least, Jake did get her mind off her troubles, if only for a few minutes.
Calling Vivian Mom hadn’t escaped her attention either. The word flowed off her
tongue as if she’d used it all her life. She changed out of her hospital gown
and put on the lavender sundress Celine had brought by for her.

A knock on the door, and it opened
slowly, and then Pamela slid into the wheelchair.

Jake pushed Pamela to the gift shop where
she purchased two flower arrangements, then they headed to the elevators, while
four agents followed. Within minutes, Jake opened the door to Marge’s room.

Marge sat up in bed eating a snack.
“Pamela.”

Pamela sprung out of the wheelchair,
placed one of the flower arrangements on the bedside table, then hugged Marge.
“You look good.”

Pamela kissed Marge’s cheek while Jake
kissed the other side. “There’s the lively young woman we know and love,” Jake
said.

Marge smiled and kissed his cheek. “I’m
glad you’re here, Jake.” She looked at Pamela. “How’s your mother, sweetheart?”

“She’s out of surgery. I’m going to see
her next. The doctors believe she’ll be okay.”

“I’m glad.”

Pamela felt thankful too, but what that
woman put her through, she didn’t know if she could ever forgive.

As if Marge could read her mind, she
said, “Sweetheart, we all do things that we’re not proud of. Your mother loves
you. There’s no doubt. She just has a hard time showing it.”

Pamela picked up Marge’s hand. “You were
the only one who acted like my mother.”

Other books

Passion in Paradise by Bradley, Hannah "Hank"
Deadly Friends by Stuart Pawson
London Triptych by Jonathan Kemp
Berlin 1961 by Frederick Kempe
Double Vision by F. T. Bradley
Blind Spot by Nancy Bush
Winter and Night by S.J. Rozan
MacGowan's Ghost by Cindy Miles