Page 1 of Desperate Temptations

Chapter One

Jessa awoke slightly disoriented for a moment and then realized she felt good, even peaceful, and rested. She was reinvigorated and relaxed for the first time in a long time.

Finally, she was sleeping through the night, not waking from screaming at the terror streaking through her veins and dark images burning her mind from nightmares of the one night that had changed her life forever.

She slowly stretched, squinting her eyes to avoid the morning light leaking through the window. She raised her arms over her head and froze as alarm coursed through her. Her eyes fell on the black long-sleeved shirt she’d worn the night before.

A frown puckered her brow. She rubbed her forehead with both hands, trying to ward off a headache that started to pound in her temples as she thought about the night before.

The panic inside her started to build. Why was there a void of time she couldn’t remember from the night before, or how she’d gotten home and into bed?

Jessa’s heart seized, then galloped out of control. The morning flush she awoke with a few moments ago leached from her face.

Jessa sat up and looked anxiously around her bedroom, her eyes slowly moving. Nothing seemed different or out of place, but something was off. A feeling or smell of another person who had been there recently.

Her muscles tightened, and she swallowed as waves of nausea rolled through her stomach. A shiver of pure terror, stark and vivid, ran down her spine as sweat broke out on her forehead. She took a deep breath and tried to keep her fragile control. “Don’t freak out, don’t freak out, don’t freak out,” she chanted softly to herself.

Jessa thought about calling the police, but what would she say? “I think someone might have been in my house because I woke up with the clothes I’d worn the night before,” or, “I think I smell something or someone,” or, “I can’t remember what happened last night?” They’d think she was on drugs or just plain crazy. She couldn’t think of a way to say it that didn’t sound ridiculous, and she knew her friend Gary would find out since he was a detective, and she’d catch hell from him. Something she didn’t need at that moment.

She stood apprehensively and snatched the baseball bat she kept by the bed. She caught herself with her hand on the mattress, preventing herself from tripping at the last moment over the boots she’d worn the night before, sitting on the floor by the bed. She had always put her shoes away in the closet.

It was such a terrible time in her life, and she was desperate for order and control, any way she could get it. Some people would think she had OCD, but she just needed to have everything in its place, or she would be unsettled.

Jessa held the bat up, both of her hands gripping it tightly as sweat rolled down her cheek. She made her way to her bedroom door, the bat poised over a shoulder as she used the other to slowly open the door. She peered down the short hallway to her living room, and when she didn’t hear anything, she stalked toward the living room.

She heard only the refrigerator, the wall clock in the kitchen, and her own ragged breath. Everything seemed normal and untouched. She walked through the house, slowly, silently, making sure everything was as she’d left it, nothing was out of place, and it was still locked up, before moving slowly back to her bedroom.

She sat down sluggishly on the side of her bed, and her legs shook uncontrollably, exhausted from the fear that beat through her body. Trembling, she placed the bat next to her on the mattress. Jessa’s shoulders were tightly hunched, and her hands curled on her thighs as she tried to calm her nerves.

Jessa struggled to remember the night before. She’d been hiding behind a stack of dirty old tires that sat next to a warehouse, a place she’d been watching for weeks. She felt she was getting closer to finding the man who had destroyed her world. She’d thought she would finally get the answers she desperately needed to move on with her life.

One man was all she focused on. The name Alonso Martinez was scorched into her mind forever. Jessa searched for pictures of him in the paper and found a few in the business section. It was a face she would never forget. To get closure, she felt she needed to see him convicted and put behind bars for the rest of his life.

Jessa had gone to an investigator who’d helped her with some of her cases in the past. He knew a man who had eventually sold him the information she needed. This was one of the many warehouses Martinez owned, and was rumored to be the one he used often.

The investigator had cautioned her about Martinez, imploring her to let the police take care of him. When he couldn’t change her mind, he told her to watch her back, Martinez had no soul and absolutely no conscience. He then described a few things he knew the man had done, trying to scare her. Jessa had come close to turning away, sheer terror streaking through her.

She had been waiting for Gary, a friend and detective with the police force, to find evidence on the man as he’d promised. But when she’d found out about Martinez, something burned through the mass of ice that encased her heart and ignited something inside of her that made her want to live again. Was it vengeance that started the awakening? She didn’t know and didn’t care. Jessa did know that if she sat back and did nothing, she’d lose more of herself than she had already.

How could she explain to people that she finally found something that made her think of the future and kept her from the depression she’d felt since that night? The bastard was the only thing that had her looking forward and not back.

She thought back to the previous night again. Jessa rubbed at her pulsing temples as she tried to remember. It had been really dark, the kind you felt could smother you if not for the few glimpses of dull light shining out the warehouse windows. She’d stood bent at the waist, hearing voices in the building. They’d been too far away for her to understand what they were saying.

She was working to get her courage up and decide on the best route to take without making noise, ready to move a little closer to the doorway ... and then Jessa tried to remember what happened next, which made the ache grow in her temples.

A feeling of dread swept over her as bits and pieces of the night gradually slid back into her consciousness. Jessa vaguely remembered when she had suddenly sensed someone behind her, her muscles tightened, ready to escape. Then someone clasped her shoulder. She recalled the streak of fear that shot through her veins, thoughts of her death coursed through her mind, and then nothing.

She rubbed her forehead, confused. The hand had been huge and covered her entire shoulder. From the size of the hand, it had to have been a man. A large man.

She couldn’t understand why she wasn’t hurt or dead. Everybody kept telling her what a monster Martinez was. If he had been the one to catch her, she assumed she wouldn’t be here in her house and her body untouched. But how the hell had she gotten home? The fear ate at her. The worst part was the fact that she couldn’t remember all of it.

Jessa closed her eyes as she recalled the hand had tightened so quickly, she didn’t have a chance to scream or fight before darkness had taken her. What the hell had he done to her?

Jessa looked at the clock and grimaced. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late for work, and work was the one thing she had in her life that was steady and secure and kept her going day after day. She rushed to take her shower and dress. Jessa grabbed her purse, briefcase, and a Pop-Tart on her way out the door.

She looked back one last time with her hand on the doorknob. No one was in the house, she had checked. But why then did it still feel like someone was there, if not in person, in essence? She shook her head. Anxiety tightened her stomach when a wave of apprehension swept through her. She turned, closed, and locked the door.

Chapter Two

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