Whirlwind (32 page)

Sleep would have to wait awhile longer.

Fourteen

The transition from sleeping to waking was slow and easy for a change. Before my eyes opened, I savored the warmth of my surroundings. The birds chirped happily outside. Somewhere in the distance a leaf blower hummed. The sheets rustled beside me, assuring me I wasn’t alone.

Jason brushed the hair out of my face with one finger. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said.

Slowly I opened my eyes and was greeted by a phenomenal view of my own personal Prince Charming. “Good morning, handsome.”

“Do you always wake up with such a lovely smile on your face?” he asked. His finger moved to my lips, tracing the grin I couldn’t contain.

“I doubt it,” I said with a laugh. “My alarm clock isn’t nearly this pleasant.” I shifted slightly, feeling a twinge in my neck as I did. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, but I woke up a while ago. I’ve been watching you dream. It was quite entertaining.”

“Entertaining? How?” I asked. I tried to nonchalantly wipe my chin. Had I been drooling in my sleep?

“You displayed quite a rainbow of expressions this morning. Do you remember any of your dreams?”

I closed my eyes, searching for some flicker of memory, but found none. “Nope. I’m sure it was all good,” I said and rolled onto my back. I must’ve slept in one position the whole night; everything was stiff and tight. The pain in my neck became more pronounced and threatened to migrate into my head. I was contemplating finding the aspirin when Journey started playing next to me. It was Mom.

When I picked up my cell phone, I groaned. It was only eight o’clock—too early for her to be calling. Something was wrong.

“Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

“Oh, thank God, you’re all right,” she said. “I was so worried. Where are you?”

“I’m still in Santa Lucia, remember? What’s going on?”

“Thank goodness. The alarm at the house just went off. The police are on their way, but I had to make sure you were okay.”

I covered my face with my free hand, trying to contain the fear rising from the pit of my stomach. Jason touched my shoulder.

“I’m fine. Everything here is quiet, so don’t worry. I should hang up so you can talk to the police when they call. After you hear from them, call me back, okay?” I tried to keep my voice steady. I hadn’t thought about Ron in a day and a half, but he’d obviously been busy.

“Okay. Hopefully I’ll talk to you in a few minutes. I love you,” she said.

“I love you too, Mom.” I closed the phone—and my eyes—and lay there. The headache I’d been dreading made its full-blown debut with invisible daggers penetrating my temples.

“What’s wrong?” Jason whispered.

“The alarm went off at my mom’s house a few minutes ago. It has to be Ron.” My own voice made my head throb. I cocked my elbow over my face, blocking out the equally irritating light.

Jason sighed. “The house was empty, right?”

I nodded, but then grimaced.

“You don’t look so good,” he said.

“I think I’m getting a migraine.”

I felt a warm hand stroke my arm. “I’ve got ibuprofen in my kit. Would you like some?” His voice was so soothing,
it
was almost enough to stop the pain. Almost.

“Thanks. That’d be great.”

Jason must’ve left, but I didn’t hear him. I was aware only of the ominously silent phone in my hand and the timpani pounding inside my skull. I couldn’t help but imagine what the police might find. At first I pictured the inside of Mom’s house—my home—a complete disaster. Shattered glass, upended furniture, emptied cabinets—the manifestation of violent rage. Superimposed on the destruction was Ron’s face, filled with evil satisfaction, laughing maniacally. I gritted my teeth, and the pain in my head intensified.

That’s not the only possibility.
Another image filled my mind, a more pleasant sight: Ron in handcuffs being thrown into the back of a blue-and-white San Jose Police cruiser. He cowered in the back seat, weak and impotent. Maliciously, I hoped he’d suffer the same sexual violence in prison as he’d inflicted on his victims.

My grisly musings were interrupted by the enticing hum of the coffee grinder. The ache eased a bit with the promise of caffeine. Jason’s continued thoughtfulness struck me, filling me with something deeper than gratitude. I tried to embrace the feeling, but one word doused it.
Friday.

“Here you go,” Jason said.

I moaned when I took my arm off my face and forced myself to sit up. He handed me two brown pills and a big glass of water. “Thanks,” I said, tossing both pills in my mouth. The cool water quenched a thirst I didn’t realize I had, and I finished the whole glass without thinking. When I handed it back to Jason, my phone came to life.

“Mom,” I said with the phone halfway to my ear.

“Hi, Melissa,” was her subdued reply. “The police didn’t find much at the house. They saw some scratches on the front door, but it didn’t appear to have been opened. The deadbolt is still intact, and none of the windows are damaged.”

“Which sensor went off?”

“The front door. The sound of the alarm must’ve scared off whoever was messing around.” She didn’t sound particularly pleased.

“What else, Mom…is there something you’re not telling me?” I asked.

“They reviewed the tapes from the surveillance van and saw a light-colored sedan stop in front of the house right before the alarm went off. What did you say that guy’s car looked like?”

I caught Jason’s eye. “The cops said he drives a tan Saturn. Crap.”

“Damn it,” he whispered and sat down next to me, putting his hand on my back.

“The police are canvassing the area, but I doubt they’ll find him,” Mom continued. “It’s rush hour. You know what that’s like.” She sighed, her frustration mirroring mine.

“You’re staying in
Reno
, right?”

“Until Sunday night. I’ll call you before I leave, and we’ll figure out what to do then. You stay in Santa Lucia and keep your doors locked,” Mom commanded.

Any other time I would’ve questioned her authority—we’re both adults—but in this case her worry was more than justified.

“Okay, Mom, I will.” I twisted my head around, trying to loosen my cramping neck. While I was relieved the house was okay, Ron was much too close for comfort. “How’s the rodeo?” I asked, changing the subject.

Jason slowly rubbed my back while I conversed with Mom about steers and lariats. I promised to call her tomorrow before hanging up.

“They didn’t catch him,” Jason stated, rather than asked. The angry glare in his eyes didn’t help—the last thing I wanted was for him to confront Ron again.

“No. They only caught a picture of his car. Apparently, he tried to break in through the front door, but the alarm scared him off.”

Something wasn’t right, though. Why would he try to break in at eight in the morning?

“At least the police know where he is,” Jason said. “It shouldn’t be much longer before they catch him.” His fingers moved up to my neck, working a particularly stubborn knot.

“That feels good.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to clear the image of Ron from my mind.

“Take off your shirt and lie down,” Jason said.

I gave him a sideways glance, in too much pain to turn my head, let alone have sex.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to molest you, promise. Lie on your stomach.”

Still wary, I slipped the T-shirt over my head before lying down and curling my arms up at my sides. His knee touched my elbow. “Comfortable?” he asked.

“I guess. A little chilly, maybe.”

“Not for long.” I heard him rubbing his hands together, and my skin tingled in anticipation. I jumped when he touched the base of my spine; his hands were blazing hot, but felt wonderful. His thumbs pressed into my tight muscles, his fingers wrapping around my sides as they slid up to my shoulder blades. “Try not to think, just relax,” he said hypnotically.

“Okay,” I said, exhaling slowly. He methodically kneaded my back, working each tense muscle. Amazingly, his touch didn’t ignite the passionate desire I usually felt; rather it drew the pain and stress out of me like a magnet. His hands moved firmly over my skin in rhythmic patterns. First he made circles with his fingers, then waves with his knuckles, then lines up and down my neck with his thumbs. Within minutes, I became a lifeless puddle of goo.

“How do you feel now?” he asked, lightening his touch.

“
Ung
,” I grunted. “Like a jellyfish. I’m yours,” I sighed. The ache in my head was a distant memory.

He chuckled softly. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

The peace of the moment was broken when my phone rang again, the harsh bell signifying one of my friends calling me. “
Noooo
,” I moaned, and Jason increased his pressure again before lifting his hands from me.

“Don’t you dare move.” He found the phone and answered it. “Hello, Linda.”

I remained perfectly still, listening to Jason deflect her curious probes with short “yes, Linda” and “no, Linda” responses until she must’ve gotten to the purpose of her call.

“Just a second, I’ll ask her,” he said. “Melissa, would you like to go to the beach with Linda and Chase today?”

“Uh-huh,” was all I could manage.

“I think that was a yes. Hmmm? Okay, hang on.” I heard him shift, but per his instructions, I didn’t move. “Linda wants to tell you something. Here.”

The phone touched my cheek.

“Melissa, can you hear me?” Linda said loudly.

“Yeah.”

“Wear that bikini we got you last month. If you show up in that one-piece you wear to do laps, I’m going to cut it in half. Got it?”

“’Kay.”
Whatever
. At this particular moment she could’ve told me to come buck naked and I would’ve said yes.

The phone disappeared.

“What time…? Great. See you then.” He snapped the phone shut, and I heard him rubbing his hands again. I welcomed their return with a sigh.

“You seem to be pretty agreeable now,” he said, feathering his fingers across my shoulders.

“Uh-huh.” Anyone who could make me feel this good could have whatever they wanted.