Page 233 of Under Her Skin
She clinked her glass, took a sip and then kissed him. ‘Tous.’
Theo smiled. ‘To us, baby. I loveyou.’
The engagement is announcedbetween Miss Jessica Eleanor Wood of King County, Seattle, Washington, and Mr. Theodore Flynn Storm, also of King County, Seattle, Washington. The marriage is expected to take place within the next month and will be a privateoccasion.
Jules read the announcement.He’d never felt such anger. Rage.Rage.
Theo pressed his temples,trying to ease a headache that was building. The meeting had gone on too late and now he was desperate to get out of there. He glanced at Max who shrugged apologetically and mouthed ‘Sorry,boss.’
The investor was too important to the company to blow off so Theo smiled at him. ‘I’m so sorry, do you mind if I make a quickcall?’
Alone in his office, he called Jess and the tension eased the second he heard her voice. He apologized for being solate.
‘I’m going to take the ‘copter out the island as soon as I can,’ hepromised.
‘I’ll wait up for you and make it worth your while.’ He loved the soft tone in her voice. How had he ever existed without thiswoman?
‘I hate leaving you alone atnight.’
Jess made a noise. ‘I’m not living on tenterhooks anymore, Theo. Besides, I have thedogs.’
‘And thegun.’
‘Andthat.’
Theo sighed. ‘Okay, well, I’ll be homesoon.’
He returned to his meeting and with a jolt of annoyance found himself soon dragged back into the dull conversation. At the back of his mind, there was a constant chant, a constantpleading.
Just keep her safe until I get there. Just let her safe, please.Please.
At home,Jess let Stan and Monty outside to pee. The land behind the house, woodland lit by Theo’s floodlights, was an eerie green in the artificial light but she knew, just before midnight, the lights would snap off and the house, the wood, everything would descend into an inky black. Inside, she flitted around tidying, keeping busy, trying not to think about being alone this late. She loved being here, and to her surprise, loved doing the ordinary things a homemaker would do. The sisterhood will have my head, she grinned to herself. In the kitchen, she heard the dryer click off. Folding the clothes, she hugged the warm stack to her as she went upstairs. She put the clothes away and moved over to close thedrapes.
She jerked backfrom the window in shock. A figure, silhouetted against the floodlights, was standing at the edge of the woods, watching the house. Jess edged to the window to see if she had been imagining it. No. There was someone there but she couldn’t see his – or her - features. As she gazed down, the person lifted their hand and gave a languid wave. Jolted, she went downstairs. She grabbed her phone and went to the front door, peering out, her heart thudding. The dogs started barking and she ran to get the gun Theo had made her practice with before he would leave her alone. Angry now as well as scared, she opened the back door and the dogs skittered in, their tails wagging. That made her feel better at least. She clicked the safety off and stepped onto theporch.
There was no one there.She scanned the trees. Nothing. She blew out her breath, relieved. The fog had started to roll in from the water and it seeped around the house, hanging like gossamer across the floodlit wood. The floodlights clicked off.Midnight.
Come home,Theo, she begged silently. She went back inside and turned to close the door just as Jules stepped into her eye line, less than a footaway.
Before she had time to react, he was on her, clamping a hand over her mouth, dragging her back into the kitchen, kicking the back door shut. His arm was across her throat, pressing down, making it hard to breathe. He slammed her into the wall, her ribs taking the force, knocking the breath from herbody.
He threw her to the floor, pushing up her skirt grabbing, grasping hands, tearing at her underwear. She used all of her force to kick and punch and try to get free and he slapped her, hard enough to make her ears ring. She fought against him, shouting, ‘No, no, no!’ as he ripped the delicate fabric down her thighs. His hand came up to clamp over her mouth, but she bit him, hard, bucking with all of her energy to get him off ofher.
His hands werearound her throat, squeezing, unremitting. She jammed the heel of her hand up, trying to slam it into his nose – she made contact, not hard but enough to make him release hisgrip.
She scrambled away from him, trying to grab her gun which had clattered to the floor, but he grabbed her ankle and pulled her back to him. Her body fell hard against the stonefloor.
He grabbedher head between his hands and bounced it viciously off the stone. Dazed, she let her guard down for a split second – then he was in her, thrusting, grunting, tearing. He pinned her hands above her head. She was sobbing now, in anger, raging at him, at herself. She could feel the blood from the back of her head smearing across the floor, soaking her hair. He continued to force himself into her and she cried out with pain as he pushed her legs further apart. He pinned her arms to the floor, his breath heavy on her face. With effort, she brought her knee up and pushed with all her strength. With a frustrated yell, he pulled away, enough for her to kick him between the legs as hard as shecould.
He jerked away,groaning in pain and she was up, scrambling away from him, clambering through the blood on thefloor.
He rocked back, knees to chest, clasping his groin. ‘Bitch!’ She had darted into the hall, making for the front door but her feet, slick from the blood, slid out from beneath her. She skidded across the floor until her legs slammed into the base of the antique mirror. With a groan, it toppledforward.
She put her arm over her face as the glass smashed into her. The heavy frame made contact with her head with a sickening crunch and she slumped to the floor,unconscious.
Jules recovered himself and,limping, followed the sound of the shattering glass. She was so still, so vulnerable, lying there amongst the slivers of the mirror, some sticking into her skin, little pools of blood. A large gash along her hairline was spilling blood onto the floor beneath her. He bent over her, avoiding the shards around him, and placed two fingers against her throat, the delicate artery that pulsed against his fingertips. Alive. Good. He didn’t want her dead, not yet, at least. He’d wait until she woke up. He wanted her awake for the next part, the part where she would beg him for herlife…
The fifth timeTheo got her voicemail, he started to panic. He grabbed his jacket and strode out of the office, ignoring the surprised look of hissecretary.
