Trusting Jack (18 page)

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Authors: Beth Hale

BOOK: Trusting Jack
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Chapter 22

 

Sarah let herself in and softly closed the door behind her.  She glanced around and saw that nothing had really changed.  It still looked like a bachelor pad; he had never let her put her personal touch on it.  She heard the shower running and smiled.  She’d just wait for him to come out and surprise him.

She was tired of waiting for Jack to realize he’d made a mistake when he’d thrown her out.  So, she mused, she would just hurry things up a bit.  She had dressed carefully, in a short dress the color of poppies.  It showed off her tanned skin and honey hair to perfection, she knew.

It revealed her every curve and made her brown eyes look soft.  She was confident that he would fall at her feet.

Imagine, he’d pretended to replace her with that nobody assistant.  He’d succeeded in making her jealous, she admitted.  Sarah checked her reflection in the mirror behind her and slicked another coat of tawny pink on her lips.

Sarah’s gaze landed on a puddle of lace on the floor.  She picked it up and her lips tightened.  So, the upstart slut thought she could bind him to her with sex.

Two could play at that game.

And, she thought, she’d just go a step further and make sure the little bitch knew who was queen.  Sarah dropped the nightie in her purse and slithered out of the white thongs she wore.  She used her heel and pushed them slightly under the couch.  She heard Jack moving around in the bedroom, and smiled with anticipation.

With a sigh, Jack realized the pants he wanted

were still in the dryer.  With the towel still slung around his hips, he walked out of the bedroom.  He stopped mid-step and stared. 

“What the hell are you doing here?  How the hell did you get in?”

She held up a key.  “I held on to this, darling.  Aren’t you happy I’m home?”

“This isn’t your home.  Not anymore.”  With two strides, he stood before her.  He jerked the key out of her hand.  “Get out.”

She laughed softly.  “Oh, Jack.  You can stop pretending to be angry with me.  We both know you’re ready for me to come back.”  She licked her lips.  He looked good standing there with a towel across those hips and a dark scowl on his face.  His blue eyes were hot with anger and it roused her.

“No, Sarah.  I told you, we’re finished.  Catching you in my bed with Andrew was the last straw.”

She pouted and her voice trembled.  “I’ve apologized for that.  One mistake—“

“One?”  He laughed harshly.  “Andrew made the fourth ‘mistake’ I knew about.  God knows how many other men you fucked behind my back.”

“Darling.”  She moved closer to him and tried to twine her arms around his neck. 

He stepped back.  “Just don’t.”  

Her eyes flashed with annoyance, the brown going a shade darker.  “Come on, Jack.  We both know it’s me you want.  You’re just using that silly little assistant to make me mad with jealousy.”

“Her name is Emma,” he said, his voice hard and cold.  “And I’ve never tried to make you jealous.  I don’t care that much.”

“You used to.  You used to not be able to keep your hands off me.”

“I’ve been cured of that, too.  You need to leave.  Now.”

Sarah’s body flushed with excitement.  He was so angry, so unyielding.  Forceful.  She wanted him.

Fast as lightening, she pressed her lush body against his, her breasts soft against his chest.  She brought his head down and fused her mouth to his and her other hand slid under the edge of the towel.  She stroked and teased him with skillful fingers.

Shocked, he froze for a moment and felt himself harden under her manipulative hand.  She felt it, too, and gave a feral hum of approval. 

“You want me, Jack.”  Her voice quaked with her mounting desire and she kept her hand on his hard length.  “You want me as much as I want you.” 

Before he could think, his hips bucked towards her and his eyes unfocused.  The bedroom door was ajar behind her, revealing a rumpled bed that seemed to beckon. 
It would be so easy…

Jack suddenly shook
his head, angry and ashamed at his reaction.  He wouldn’t, couldn’t betray Emma.  “Leave.”  His breath was ragged.

She looked at him and laughed.

He grabbed her shoulders hard enough to leave bruises and shoved her away.  “Listen to me, you vicious bitch.  I don’t want you.  Not today, not ever again.  Do you understand?  I love Emma.  I love her.”

“Love,” Sarah spat, angry.  “You can’t possible love some mealy mouthed—“

“Shut up.  And get out.  I’ve wasted enough of my day on you.  Don’t bother coming back.”  He stalked past her and flung open the door.

Sarah snatched her purse up and paused beside

him.  Her eyes glittered with fury.  “You’ll come begging and I’ll be waiting.”

“Not likely.”  He pushed her the rest of the way out
of the door and slammed it shut.  He relocked it, set the deadbolt and the security system.

Jack ran his fingers through his damp hair and sighed.  He’d look up a locksmith before visiting Glenda.

 

***

 

It was almost eleven o’clock and Emma couldn’t sleep.  Since Norah was out with friends, she decided to do a little cleaning.  It always helped to settle her mind when she was nervous about something.

She pulled her hair up in a high pony tail and tossed on her oldest jeans and a faded Maroon 5 t-shirt.  She slid thick socks on her feet and got out the bucket of cleaning supplies.  She’d just finished polishing the tables, the scent of lemons hanging faintly in the air, when there was a knock on the door.  She tucked the rag into her front pocket and went to answer it.

She was so stunned to see Sarah Reed at her door that she just stood there as Sarah walked past her into the house.

“Good evening,” Sarah said with a friendly smile.  She dropped her purse on the freshly polished side table.  “I was on my way home and saw your lights on.  Thought I’d drop in for a little chat.” She’d gone back home after leaving Jack’s, to lick her wounds and revise her plan.  She’d come up with a good one.

Emma closed the door.  “A chat?” she echoed.

“Yes.  I wanted to ask if you’ve been enjoying

your time with Jack.”

“Umm.  Not to be rude, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” 

Sarah let out a tinkling laugh.  “He hasn’t told you, then.”

“Told me what?”

“That it’s over between you two.  I’m back.”

“I—I don’t understand.”  But she was suddenly afraid she did.


Come on, now.”  She sent Emma a lazy smile.  “Surely you had to know he was just…amusing himself until we worked everything out.”  She shook back her hair and looked at the side table then at Emma’s appearance.  “Charming.  It appears I’ve caught you cleaning; my apologies.”

“I don’t believe you,” Emma said bravely.

“You should.  I’ve just come from there.  Left him in bed, more than satisfied.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said again.  Her voice shook slightly.

“Really?  Maybe this will convince you.”  Sarah opened her purse and pulled out the nightie.  She saw Emma tense and her smile widened.  “You left this behind.  I have to say thank you.”  She ran the lace through her fingers.  “Jack loved it when I put this on, said how much better it looked on me.” 

She looked up, and locked her eyes with Emma’s.  “After that, he couldn’t get it off me fast enough.”

Emma paled and her hands began to tremble.  She’d been right, she thought.  He was tired of her; it had all been an act.

“It was so wonderful,” Sarah purred and

shrugged her white sweater off her shoulders.  The

bruises stood out, the fingerprints visible on her skin. 

“He was so masterful, so demanding.  We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.”

              Emma was beginning to feel sick.  Her stomach churned and her breaths came in shallow pants.  “Is that all?” she managed.  “Are you done?”

Sarah’s smile turned gloating when she saw the devastation on Emma’s face, the tears in her eyes.  She pulled her sweater back up.  “I believe so.”

She threw the nightie on the table as she walked to the door.  With her hand on the knob, she gave a last look over her shoulder. 

“Did you really think Jack would have more than a passing interest in someone like you?  A nobody who dresses in rags and smells of furniture polish?  You were a diversion, Emma.  Why would he want someone like you when he could have me?”

She heard Emma’s sharp breath.  She couldn’t stop the satisfied smirk as she walked out.  Her work here was done, she thought.  It was time to polish her plan to reclaim Jack’s attention.  She closed the door quietly behind her.

Emma’s whole body began to shake. She’d let herself believe too much, care too much.  Again.  It hurt.  God, it hurt so bad. 

She made it to the stairs before tears blurred her vision.  She dropped to the bottom step and wrapped her arms around her knees.  And wept.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 23

 

Emma managed a scant hour’s sleep.  She’d lain awake, staring out the window into the darkened street below, wondering what she should do.

Finally, at seven, she’d decided she wasn’t going to be so meek about it this time.  She was going to confront Jack. 

She looked in the mirror and winced. She looked like death warmed over, she thought, but there was no help for it.  She was ghost-pale; no amount of makeup would help.  Her eyes had deep purple shadows under them and were red from weeping.  Her hair was a frizzed mess because she was just too tired to fool with it.

Emma shrugged.  He’d either talk to her as she was, or tell her to leave.  She put the nightie in her shoulder bag on her way out the door.

Rain was falling, a slow cold drizzle that tinted everything gray.  It suited her mood.

She knocked on Jack’s door and waited.  She heard his quick footsteps and then the door opened.

“Emma,” he exclaimed, pleasure lighting his eyes.  “I was just about to call you.”  He really focused on her and concern replaced the pleasure.  “What’s wrong, love?  Are you sick?”  He stood aside as she walked in.

Emma drew in a bracing breath and turned to face him.  “Have you started seeing Sarah again?”

“No!”  Shock colored his voice.  “Why would you even think that?”

“She hasn’t been here, you haven’t been together?”

“No,” he said again.  He wouldn’t hurt Emma

by revealing his knee-jerk reaction to Sarah’s touch.

Emma nodded slowly and lowered her eyes.  The utter shock in his voice, on his face, almost-
almost
-made her believe him.  She wanted to.  But there was that flicker of guilt in his eyes and the proof in her bag.

She reached into it and slowly pulled out the nightie.  Quietly, she said “I forgot this when I left yesterday.  Sarah stopped by last night to bring it back to me with a word of thanks.”

Jack flushed.  “Emma, I can explain.”  He took a step towards him; she took a step back.

“I’m sure you can.  I’m sure you can come up with a lie to explain away the lie you just told.” 

“I swear, Emma, I swear I told you no because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

She simply looked at him.  “You didn’t want to hurt me, so you lie?”  Her eyes caught sight of a white thong poking out from under the couch.  “I guess you didn’t fuck ‘er either.”

“No!  I swear to God, I didn’t…” he trailed off as she stalked past him, bent, and picked something up.

“These ain’t mine, Jack.”  She dangled the thong in front of his face.  “You gonna explain this away, too?”

He knew.  He knew he’d been framed, and he knew he’d made a huge mistake by not coming clean at the start.  He prayed he could fix it.  “I can explain,” he said again, panicked by the look in her eyes.  “Sarah did come here yesterday.  I was in the shower; she let herself in with a key I didn’t know she had.”

How convenient.”  Her voice was hard, unyielding.

“It’s true.  She—she must have pulled off her

panties before I came in here.  I--I don’t know. 

She…came on to me.   I told her to leave.  Nothing happened.”

“Right.”  Emma rolled her eyes. 

“It’s the truth, I swear.”  He shoveled his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t believe you.”  Emma wanted to cry, she wanted to shake, but she’d be damned if she would give him the satisfaction.

Jack saw the tears glimmer in her eyes and his heart dropped.  “Please, don’t cry.  Just listen.”

“I did, Jack.  I stood here and listened while you lied to my face.  You want me to stand around and listen some more?  No, I’m done listening, I’m done believing.  You’re good.  God, you’re good.  You put on a damn fine act.  I really thought you cared about me.”

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