Page 2 of Desperate Temptations

On Friday, despite her unease about not being able to remember more of the night before, Jessa dressed again in a black long-sleeved shirt, pants, and boots. She put her long, dark brown hair in a bun on top of her head, pulled a black stocking cap down that covered it, and grabbed a black jacket.

The nights had started getting chilly, as they always did in October in the Midwest. She scooped up her keys and cell phone. The cell phone was for calling if she needed help and for taking pictures of anything she might see that would help the police—proof that the police would finally need to take Martinez down.

Jessa pulled into a parking lot several blocks from the warehouse she’d been watching. After she locked her car door, she slipped her keys into her pocket. The urge to turn back grew, but she pushed herself to keep walking even when her head was telling her to go home.

She walked to the warehouse, staying in the shadows as much as possible, avoiding the many piles of garbage and debris that covered the area. This part of town had always been run-down, but with every passing year, it seemed to become a little more dilapidated.

She had never seen another person, but she knew she was putting herself at risk by being in that part of town alone.

Jessa stood in the shadows as she silently made her way to the other side of the building behind big rusty drums of old oil, which concealed her better than the other place. She crouched down, making herself as small as possible before looking around and listening for anything or anyone.

Jessa took several deep breaths and tried to calm her nerves, swallowing back the bile that tried to force its way out of her throat. Her heart rate pounded violently in her chest, making her feel lightheaded. Her hands were shaking and sweaty. I’m not cut out for this, she mused, frowning. She rubbed her hands on her pants to wipe off the sweat.

This whole situation went against her personality. She was always calm, polite, and followed the rules, and she certainly never took risks. She was the lady her parents had brought her up to be. Her whole life, she’d been everything her parents wanted from a daughter, having done everything expected of her and more.

Jessa rubbed her chest to alleviate the ache that always settled there whenever she thought about her parents. She would always be thankful for how much they did for her. They were the best parents anyone could have asked for. Along with Drew, her husband, they were also gone, dying in a several-car pile-up on the highway when she was in college. She took some peace from the fact they had been together when it happened and died instantly.

Everything had come easily for her until that point in her life. She’d graduated from high school at the top of her class. The student body president. The head cheerleader. Anything she dreamed of had been possible.

She’d met her husband, Drew, in college, a year after her parents’ death. She knew instantly he was going to be her husband. He was so sweet to her and so romantic. He treated her like a princess. He was every woman’s dream. Drew was a few inches taller than her five feet four. He had close-cut blond hair, navy blue eyes, and a handsome face, with dimples she adored.

He always wore clothes that fit his trim body perfectly, making him look like a model. Drew did not wear stained or ripped blue jeans. The most casual clothes she’d ever seen him wear were khakis and polo shirts.

He was a lawyer like her and had been a damn good one. While she was in business law, he was a junior district attorney for the State of Illinois. Drew had put away several criminals, each one viler than the last. After he died, the detectives in charge of the case thought it might have been an old case that had gotten him killed, but they couldn’t find evidence to support the theory.

They made the perfect couple, successful, beautiful. Jessa and Drew’s lives had been excellent. Until that night. Until her world crashed around her, taking everything she held dear, robbing her of the only family she had left.

Remembering always bombarded her with such anguish. Her misery was so acute, it was physical pain and pressure in her chest, making it hard to take a deep breath. Jessa lay her head on her bent knees, willing away the tears. She knew that night was forever tattooed in her mind. Nothing in life had prepared her for what she went through. It took her months before the trauma and memories stopped making her want to die. The therapist told her it was normal to feel that way, but inside she would always feel like a coward for fighting to stay alive and not going to be with her husband.

Jessa had been so lost that no one had been able to get through to her. Her spirit had been broken. She had wrapped herself in a cocoon of anguish no one could cut through. She went to work and then home. Never laughing, never smiling. Her happiness and reason for living died that night. Until the day a friend of Drew’s stopped by the house. Gary, a detective, came to her, asking questions about Drew’s work. Asking if he brought any files home that she still had. He asked Jessa if Drew had told her anything about the cases he’d been working on at the time of his death. Had she ever heard the name Alonso Martinez?

When she asked why, Gary ignored all her questions, making a pretext about a case they worked on together years ago. She felt the icy fingers of suspicion creep over her. Jessa had asked him if this had anything to do with the shooting that took Drew’s life. Gary had unintentionally confirmed it when he paled at her inquiry but still denied it had anything to do with that night. Martinez was the name Gary had inadvertently given her. A man who destroyed her world.

Since then, Jessa has used every available minute to learn about this man. Gary wouldn’t tell her anything and tried to make it a point to change the subject.

Because of the new information, she became obsessed with Martinez. Where he lived, worked, and played. He had no family she’d been able to find, but he had plenty of acquaintances and people who worked for him, many of whom were terrified of him.

He had a lot of lady friends, if you could call them that. They were more like high-priced prostitutes who wouldn’t or couldn’t give her answers. She still didn’t know exactly what he did to catch law enforcement's attention. Nobody would tell her anything, and it just made her more determined.

Nothing anyone said stopped her. She was given a new reason to live—vengeance. It was horrible to think she was the type of person who would want revenge. The situation had pushed her to take chances she never would have before, but Jessa wanted to be able to go to Gary with evidence that would bring Mr. Martinez down. She wanted to be a part of his downfall. Put him away for the rest of his life. Maybe then she could move on.

Gary often told her he regretted telling her anything, afraid of what she would do. Never did he think she would go after the man herself, and nothing he said got through to her. He threatened, cajoled, and begged her to stop and let him do his job. Gary promised to take care of Martinez. She had been waiting for two years. She couldn’t wait any longer. She’d found a reason to live, and no one was taking it away from her.

Chapter Three

When her legs started aching from crouching, she sat down on the grimy, greasy ground, wrinkling her nose at the smell of sour garbage. Jessa studied the area around her to see if anybody was nearby. She looked at her watch to see that three hours had passed. Jessa decided she would give it another hour before she gave up for the night.

I can’t believe I’m doing this again, after what happened last night. Jessa wiped a hot tear that rolled down her cheek. She’d thought about giving up this crazy idea, but everything in her shuddered inwardly at the thought of never finding Drew’s killer. Jessa wondered if she could ever move on because the ferocity of that night always choked and twisted something inside her that couldn’t be healed, at least until justice was served.

Jessa stiffened, and her heart stuttered in her chest as she made herself smaller. What was that? she thought as fear raced through her. It was probably just a rat, and although she hated rats, a shiver of fear ran down her spine at the thought of someone taking her by surprise again. A shuffling? She held her breath and cocked her head, trying to identify the sound. When she heard it a second time, she stood carefully, trying her best not to make a noise. Bent over, she looked around the oil drums.

Her heart stopped, and a scream tore up her throat when a hard, muscular arm wrapped tightly around her waist at the same time a hand pressed against her mouth, hard, preventing her from screaming. Terror ran down her spine when a man’s mouth hissed against her ear.

“Little girl, what the fuck do I have to do to keep your ass away from here?”

Shakily, her pulse racing, she shook her head, unable to understand his words through the beating of her heart and harsh breaths. Who the hell was this? Her stomach dropped when he effortlessly picked her up as if she were weightless and strode quietly back the way she’d come. This was it. This is what Gary, hell, everyone warned her about.

A rampage of emotions raced through her, and with a clarity she had never had, she decided she wanted to live. After so many thoughts of giving up, she chose life. She started struggling against him, kicking him and scratching his arms. Cain squeezed her tighter, almost cutting off her breath.

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