Page 21 of Somewhere Without You
“Emily?”His voicewasraw.
“I’m sorry,”I mumbled.“Isawyour lightwason. Ijustwanted to make sure youwereokay.”
A cold, unsettling grin spread across his face.“Everything’sgreat,”he said, leaning back in his chair.“Justhaving a little. . . celebration.”
Ilookedaround the room. Books lay scattered across the floor, a shattered decanter tipped on its side, its amber liquid spilling onto the floor like a pool of blood. This didn’tlooklike a celebration to me.
“Jackson. . .”I started.
“Come in. Have a drink with me,”he said.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “I’m not sure I—”
“It’s not an option, Emily.” A flash of something dark, flickered in his bloodshot eyes.
I waited in silence as he pulled out a bottle of Pappy’s from somewhere in his desk. The labelwasfaded, worn from use. The way he handled it socasuallytold me itwasalready more than half empty.
He took a long swig, the poison disappearing down his throat before passing the bottle to me. I reached for ittentatively, but he yanked it away.
“Ah, ah, ah,”he teased.“Not until you say please.”
“Please,” I managed, my pulse racing like a warning drum.
He grinned,finallyhanding me the bottle. Thesmellhit meimmediately, thick and overpowering, making my stomach churn. I raised it to my lips, forcing myself to drink. The burnwasimmediate, searing through me, and I fought not to cough, the bitter aftertaste clinging to my tongue like a curse.
“Thata girl,” he praised, watching me closely. “It’sgood, isn’t it?”
I nodded, dragging the back of my hand across my mouth, trying to erase the shame.
“Yeah, you can’t do much better than this,”he remarked, finishing off the rest of the bottle in one last gulp.
In the background, the music shifted to something slower.“These Days”by The Black Keys filled the room.
“Oh man, I love this song,”Jackson said, rising from his chair and extending his hand toward me.“Dance with me, Emily.”
I glanced at the mess—at the scattered books, and shards of broken glass, before placing my hand in his. Together, we moved to the far side of the room. Jackson pulled me in close, and I held my breath against the familiar scent of his cologne battling against the sharp tang of alcohol.
Maybethe meeting with Maxhadgonewell.Maybethiswasa celebration, after all. I tried to relax, letting the tension in my shoulders melt away. Jackson’s arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me in tighter as I rested my head against his chest.
Thiswasthe manI’dfallenfor—the one whocouldbe gentle, the one who danced with me in the stillness of the night, long after the rest of the worldhadgoneto sleep.
I closed my eyes, trying to lose myself in the warmth of the moment. Jackson lifted my face to his, his mouth brushingsoftlyagainst mine. His lipsweretender, and he held me close as we rockedgentlyback and forth.
I couldn’t remember the last timehe’dkissedme likethat, let alone touched me at all. I fell into him, allowing myself to be pulled back into old memories of passion, of lovethatoncefeltlike itcouldlast forever.Maybethiswasa fresh start.Maybethiswasa new beginning.
Butthen, the kiss deepened. Jackson’s need grew, his touch becoming insistent, almost brutal. His hand tightened on the back of my neck, the pressure sharp and painful.WhenI tried to pull away, his grip only tightened further.
“Watchwhat you say, the devil is listening.”His wordswerehot and suffocating against my lips as he twisted the lyrics of the song into something more sinister.“He’s got ears you wouldn’t believe.”
A cold shiver ran down my spine, and the roomseemedto tilt.
One of my favorite movies growing upwasThe Pagemaster,buttherewasone scenethatalways terrified me—when Dr. Jekyll transformed into Mr. Hyde. I would cover my eyes or leave the room until itwasover. The way Hyde’s face contorted intothatsinister grin haunted my nightmares. I would always try to convince myself itwasn’treal.
Exceptthiswasreal.
Jackson’s eyeswereblack with fury, his face twisted in a mask of rage. “Did youhonestlythink I wouldn’t find out?”he snarled.
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. The words were there—somewhere, but my voice had vanished. I could only shake my head, a silent, trembling plea.
