Sweet Cheeks (26 page)

I flutter my eyelashes and the dull light is blinding, my eyes instantly water with the sting of smoke and ash. God are we in the middle of a fire. How the hell did that happen? My eyes instantly flick to the person carrying me. Shit, it's Travis. And he looks the most panicked I've ever seen him. He's constantly looking over his shoulder, like he's expecting someone to be chasing him.

I am so confused. Is he a good guy, or a bad guy? I still haven't figured that out. He was helping Jason before, and he slashed my cheek, but he's obviously the one who unbound me and got me out of there. Then he looks down at me.

I swallow and frown and he gives me a weak smile, like he's relieved to see me conscious. I go to open my mouth to ask him what's going on, when he gives his head a small shake, like a warning to keep quiet. I give a small nod and cling onto his blackened shirt, looks like he got singed from the fire. There are scratches and bruises on his face. I wonder how he got those. Doesn't take much to guess really. I'd say him and Jason got into a fight. But why?

I wish I could ask him, but it doesn't look like we're out of danger just yet, so I decide to trust him for now. I have a feeling I wouldn't be alive right now if not for him. I tuck my head closer to his shoulder, to stop from inhaling any more smoke, that can't be good for me or the baby. I'm curious as to where I've been this whole time, and I peek from hooded lids to take in the blur of scenery as Travis runs through it. We are in thick woodland, that feels familiar. I wonder if this is some hidden part of Wicca Woods, I mean I've only ever been to the touristy parts, not anywhere else. The trees certainly look the same.

That makes me feel a little better, if that's where we are, we are bound to run into someone who might be able to help us. Just as I'm having this thought, Travis runs into a clearer part of the woods, and we are suddenly surrounded on all sides, by shouts of, “Stop. Police. Don't move.”

Oh, thank god. I never thought I'd be happy to see a cop, but right now seeing them, is such a huge relief.

The next few minutes go by in a flash, as Travis sets me down on the ground and holds his hands up in surrender. Then I'm surrounded by medics and police. I'm put on a stretcher and I'm being wheeled away from the scene. Through the chaos, I see Travis talking fast to the police, then I see him being handed a gun. He meets my eyes for a brief second, and gives me a wink, before he turns back toward the place where we came and disappears, the black clouds of smoke billowing in the air masking me from seeing much more.

Shit. He must be going back to find Jason. So he is a good guy. Not sure how that story works, but my thoughts are quickly pulled from all that, as the paramedic attaches machines to my arms, and encourages me with a warm smile to lie down. I'm covered in a heavy blanket and the beeps of the machine are a comfort. I'm so glad someone is making sure Treasure Pot is okay. He's all I care about. I want every inch of me checked.

I can feel my eyes drifting closed, as I'm wrapped tight and snug while being put into the back of the ambulance. Relief washes through me, and tears leak down my face.

“It's alright, sweetheart, you're safe now,” a friendly voice says in a soothing tone, as my hand is squeezed by another nice warm hand.

Thank God. Thank God. That's all I can think right now. I don't care who this medical guy is, I'm just so glad he's here looking after me. I really need that. I need to feel safe again.

I must have drifted off, I don't remember riding in the ambulance or arriving at the hospital. But here I am. I look around at the pale blue walls, and listen to the beeping of the machines, monitoring my heart rate and Treasure Pot's. I love that sound, it's the best sound in the world, to know he's okay, and we made it out of those woods alive. I rub over my belly again and again, cooing words to Treasure Pot. At least he will never know what we went through. That's a memory I will keep locked away. I think I might need to for my own sanity. I don't want to relive any of it. Even though I know the cops will want to ask me questions, which I will have to answer.

I just hope they leave me in peace for now.

The door creaks open, and Bailey and Cam smile warily as they walk in.

“Hey,” I give them a weak smile in return, but I’m so relieved and happy to see them both.

“Hey, yourself,” Cam says and drags a chair close to my bed. He looks tired and worried. There are stress lines marking his usually calm face and he looks like he hasn't had a shower for days. His hair is greasy and his denim jeans and sky blue t-shirt are all wrinkled.

“I'm sorry,” he says with a raspy voice. I frown wondering why he's apologizing. I look at Bailey and she gives me a shrug. Now I take her in, she doesn't look much better. Her hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail, and it looks like she's thrown on jean shorts and a white t-shirt from the dirty laundry basket.

“Cam hasn't slept in two days, he's been worried sick about you, and ... me.”

Two days? How has it been two days?

I wrinkle my brow deeper, and Cam sighs big, as he clasps my hand in his. “God, Jen, I've never been that scared before. I am so glad you're okay. I should have been there to help you. I'm so sorry.”

He's apologising again, and I have no idea why he thinks he could have helped me. He wasn't there. I really need someone to clear this all up. I mean as much as I don't want to talk about the whole ordeal, I think my curiosity might overshadow my loss of sanity.

“What do you mean? I really don't know what happened. You see I was... um... bound, and um... gagged and  ... blindfolded.” I swallow down the oversized lump in my throat. That was harder to say than I thought it would be. Saying it almost makes it real again, and I can feel my eyes watering at the memory.

“Shit. That f***n b.***d.” Bailey clamps her hand over Cam's mouth to stop the profanity, and she looks pointedly towards my stomach, as she scowls at him.

“Sorry,” Cam repeats for the third time. “Maybe we should let you rest,” his eyes scan my face, and the pitying look is back in his eyes. He obviously doesn't want to upset me, he was probably warned by the doctors, I could be delicate and still in shock.

And maybe I am. I feel pretty numb to be honest. Like I just woke from a really bad dream, and I'm realizing the night is not the day, and all is well. When it's not. The nightmare was very real and very scary. And thinking about it again, is making my heart race, and the monitor beeps faster in response.

Bailey flicks her gaze to it, and says, “Yeah, I think we should go, Jen. You need to rest and look after Treasure Pot. We'll come back soon. We just wanted to let you know we're here for you.”She  leans over and kisses the top of my head.

Well that was a little weird and awkward, but I give her a small smile. Grateful she's here and that she's okay. God knows she could have been caught up in this, or hurt by Jason in his attempt to get to me. Doesn't bear thinking about. I give an involuntary shiver. Now I do want to blank it all out again, it's too much right now. I just want to focus on Treasure Pot. The only thing keeping me calm.

I give a quick nod, and squeeze Cam's hand. He leans down and kisses my cheek. “You rest up, beautiful girl, and we'll see you soon, okay.”

I swallow the lump in my throat once more and bite my lip. So grateful for the two of them, I don't have anyone else. I won't be having any other visitors, no one else to be concerned for my welfare. That chokes me up again, as I think of Tanning. I haven't thought of him since I was kidnapped. It's another level of pain, knowing I've lost him. And he won't be the guy to worry over me, or check I'm okay. He's probably off somewhere with that skanky girl, not giving me a second thought. I close my eyes for a minute, just to try and rest my mind. I'm so mixed up right now.

I don't hear Bailey and Cam leave, I'm too wrapped up in my thoughts. But when I open my eyes, they're gone. And that's when I lose it and the tears come, flooding my face, choking my throat, clenching my stomach. God it hurts so bad. I am such a mess, and I can't fight against the tide of grief overwhelming me right now, my whole body is drowning in it, and for once I let it, as I let it all go.

TWeNTY-NiNe

_________________________

It's been two days. Two days of healing so the doctors have told me. They haven't let police or anyone question me, giving me the chance to recuperate. Huh, that's a crock, two days to sit here stewing on everything and not being given any answers is driving me insane, more than if they'd just get the inevitable over and done with. I don't have any nails left, I've well and truly bitten them all off. I can't sit still, I've been pacing the floor, waiting for the cops to come. Bailey and Cam have been in to visit every day. They sit with me, but even they haven't said much, they keep changing the subject whenever I try and talk about it.

The only thing I do know is that I'm in some kind of private hospital in Chicago. Bailey and Cam have been staying with Bennett. Which I don't think has been altogether easy for Bailey, it's the first time she's been back since she left. But I really appreciate them being here, or I probably would have gone completely nuts.

All the machines have been taken away, and my bruises and cuts are starting to heal. I hate looking at them, they take me back to that terrible scene, and I start shaking and crying. So now I don't look in mirrors. I need to keep strong. I can't keep losing it, or they'll never talk to me. I need to move forward, to forget it all. Needs and reality are very different though. I dream about it every night, and the tiniest thing will remind me, and I'm right back in those woods, blind, mute, helpless...

My dark thoughts are interrupted by muffled gruff voices from the other side of my door, and I freeze instantly. The cops have been keeping a post outside my door since I was admitted, not sure what that's all about, but I'm determined to find out. Today is the day, I vow to myself, even though a tiny voice is screaming,
you're not ready.

One of the muffled voices is raised higher than the others, and I recognize it. It's Travis. And he seems hell bent on getting in here.
Oh, shit.
I don't know if I can be in the same room with him just yet. I mean, I know he saved me, but he also cut me, and that memory scares the crap out of me. I can't let it go. I cower in the corner, and wrap my arms around my stomach, the shakes are back and I can't seem to stop them. My lips are trembling, I pull at the maternity top Bailey brought me. It's not cold in here, but all of a sudden I have a bad case of the chills.

Travis, continues to argue, and I suck in a huge breath, hoping he doesn't win. Hoping he doesn't come in here.

Shit. Too late.

I bite my lip hard as he enters the room. He looks awful, like he hasn't slept in days. His blonde hair is a mess, his black shirt is rumpled and hanging out, his jeans are stained with patches of dirt. The bruises over his eye and cheek are swollen and purple, the cuts on his face still dry with congealed blood.

Oh, holy hell, seeing him brings it all back, and I'm there, in that woodland, being carried by him. Oh shit, I can't take that. I collapse to the floor, and I'm crying again. So much for keeping it together.

Travis doesn't move. He stays still. “Jen, please ...” he whispers.

I choke on another sob and squeeze my eyes closed. Hearing his voice stabs my heart and I recoil even further into the corner, trying to get some kind of comfort from the cold walls.

“Jen, we need to talk, please, please, let me explain ... it's killing me ... I really need to talk to you.”

I hear the smallest hitch of his breath and the desperation in his voice, and it brings me to my senses for a moment. He sounds like he's hurting, hurting badly. I've never heard such emotion from him before.

I take a big gulp of air and open my eyes, forcing myself to look at him. The pain in his messed up face, makes me suck in another breath. God, he looks so tormented right now. His fist clenched at his side, his whole body stiff and tense. His normal icy eyes, watery and red raw.

“Um ... okay,” I stutter. I can't say much more, my throat is dry and my whole body is still shaking.

Travis hangs his head and looks down to the floor, closing his eyes for a moment. “Please, don't be scared of me. I can't stand to think, I frighten you. I'm so sorry, Jen ...” he blows out a large breath, and opens his eyes again giving me an intense, sincere look.

I don't know how, but I manage to get up off the floor, my legs are like jelly but I make it over to the leather arm chair and sit, curling my legs up underneath me, wrapping myself in my blanket. It comforts me, as the warmth slowly seeps in, and stills my shaking limbs.

Travis doesn't attempt to come closer, but he's watching me, like he wants to. I don't want that. I want him to stay away. He's close enough for now.

“Can I ?... Can I sit down?” he asks with a frown.

I give a small nod, watching him carefully.

He turns and strides to the far corner of the room and pulls the chair back to the place where he was standing. He must understand I don't want him any closer. He sits, his knees wide apart and his elbows resting on them, cradling his head in his hands. Sitting in that pose, makes me more comfortable, as long as he doesn't move.