Chapter Twelve
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Nicky burst out of the woods just as the sun was setting, panting from her run down the side of the mountain. She sported several scratches on her face and her jeans were soaked through to the knee from where she’d waded through the snowdrifts, but at least she’d made it to the edge of the little town whose lights she’d glimpsed the night before.
She hadn’t dared take the road. It would have taken too much time and Jackson would have found her for sure. Even now, he might still find a way to stop her. He had to have realized she was gone and put two and two together to guess where she’d run. The town at the bottom of the ravine was the only sign of civilization nearby, and the only place where she might find someone to help her.
“Or a bus station if I’m lucky.” Nicky took a deep breath and exhaled a puff of white. The temperature was falling fast.
Even warm from her run and wearing a heavy sweater, she was starting to feel the cold. Luckily the boots Jackson had brought for her seemed to be waterproof, but her jeans were not. The damp fabric felt like it was freezing to the skin beneath. She had to find somewhere to get inside and get warmed up before she risked frostbite— hopefully that bus station she was dreaming about. A bus ticket and a snug little waiting room that served hot chocolate would be heaven to her right now.
Or maybe something a little stronger than hot chocolate. An Irish coffee sounded pretty good. Anything to help numb the pain and anxiety flooding her system. She’d only spent a day with Jackson, but leaving him was as horrible as it had been the first time. Far worse than leaving the man she’d been married to for three years.
But she couldn’t think about that now. She had to focus on getting the hell out of Dodge.
Nicky set a swift pace down the street toward a line of wooden buildings resembling the main drag of an Old West town. She was still too far away to know for certain, but the businesses appeared to be mostly souvenir shops and the occasional outdoors supply store. There were only a few cars parked alongside the street, but hopefully that meant there were at least a few townspeople who hadn’t headed home for dinner yet. Surely one of them would be willing to give her a ride to the bus station. Or at least let her use their phone to call someone to help her if there wasn’t a station in town.
Her cell had died sometime between leaving L.A. and arriving in the mountains. She must have forgotten to charge it before she went to work Friday night. Stupid and careless, but then she hadn’t anticipated being gone from home more than a few hours. She certainly hadn’t imagined being kidnapped and ending up in a sleepy mountain town desperate to make contact with one of her few friends in Los Angeles.
They hadn’t known each other long, but she was guessing Cassandra wouldn’t mind driving a few hours to pick her up as long as Nicky paid for her gas and spilled all the sordid details of how she’d ended up stranded in the middle of nowhere. Cassie lived for gossip, whether it be the Hollywood variety sold at grocery store checkouts or the intimate details of her friends’ and coworkers’ lives. She’d break every speed limit between L.A. and wherever the hell Nicky was calling from as soon as she heard the words “kidnapped” and “ex-lover” in the same sentence.
The idea of the ride home with Cassie, however, made Nicky pray there was a bus station close by. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened with her and Jackson. Not now, maybe not ever.
She broke into a jog once more, swiftly closing the distance between herself and the only business still open this late in the winter months. Skiing was a big tourist draw in these parts, but a little town at the bottom of a ravine too steep for the skiing and snowboarding enthusiasts to maneuver probably didn’t see much action once the sun went down. The tourists all flocked back to Arrowhead or Big Bear to eat and drink away the chill from a day spent on the slopes.
But even a tiny town like this one had the requisite mom-and-pop diner, serving eggs and pancakes in the morning and other down-home favorites the rest of the time. The blackboard nailed to the outside of the diner proclaimed today’s special to be chicken fried steak with potatoes and gravy and green beans.
Nicky’s stomach rumbled, despite the fact that chicken fried steak would no doubt be a pathetic meal compared to the pasta Jackson had been preparing for them up in his cabin. He’d told her he’d brought a bottle of Merlot to go along with the food and cheesecake for dessert, and sounded so excited to share both with her. To share the evening with her, period.
But how could he have really felt that way if he’d been so desperate to invade her privacy the second her back was turned? And not just invade her privacy himself, but ask some friend of his to do it, to delve into her past and find out if she was a criminal, for god’s sake.
It made her wonder what he’d really thought of her all those years ago. If he’d known her as well as she’d thought, surely he would have realized she would never do anything illegal. Scandalous and wild, yes. Reckless and stupid, probably. But not illegal. That wasn’t her. Never had been, never would be.
The sound of a car pulling down the road behind her made Nicky press closer to the wall of the diner, hoping the awning shading the entrance would help conceal her. With her blond hair and light blue sweater, it wouldn’t be that difficult to spot her from the road. And if Jackson saw her, she was as good as caught. There was no one on the street to hear her scream for help, even if she managed to call out before he hustled her into the Expedition.
A quick peek over her shoulder revealed a beat-up Jeep trundling down the road, not Jackson’s monster truck. She was safe for now, but the clock was ticking. Jackson was coming for her, she could feel it in her gut. Hell, if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was already inches away, ready to throw her over his shoulder and tote her back to his lair.
He wouldn’t let her get away with leaving, she knew that much for certain. He’d feel betrayed that she’d run, as betrayed as she’d felt when she’d discovered how very little he trusted the woman he professed to love.
A bell rang above the door as Nicky pushed inside the diner. The smells of frying meat and homemade bread engulfed her, making her stomach rumble again. It had been quite a while since brunch and she and Jackson had certainly done their part to build up a hearty appetite.
Nicky’s muscles ached from their marathon lovemaking as much as her dash down the mountainside. But those aches would fade in a few days’ time. No telling how long the aching in her chest would last. Her stupid heart had already grown ridiculously attached to Jackson again. So attached it raced with excitement, not fear, when a large hand suddenly closed around her wrist.
“I figured you’d come here. Only place in town open after five during the winter.” Jackson’s eyes were dark and expressionless, but Nicky could feel the anger in the iron grip of his fingers.
“Let go of me. I’m going home,” Nicky said, keeping her voice low so as not to attract any more attention from the few diners scattered throughout the small restaurant. People were already staring, no need to make a scene. Yet.
If Jackson didn’t take no for an answer, however. . .
“You’re going back to the cabin with me. I’m going to do what we came here to do. Right now. Afterward, I’ll drive you home myself. Tonight if you want.”
“What I want is for you to let me go.” Nicky tried to jerk away, but he held her tight. “I’m not going back to the cabin, and I’m not letting you touch me again. With a tattoo needle or anything else.”
“You’ll do what I ask you to do for the next few hours.”
“I’m not playing games anymore, Jackson,” Nicky said, hoping he read the truth in her eyes. “I will not obey you, I will not submit to you, and I’m not going anywhere with you willingly. You’ll have to use force.”
“I don’t have a problem with that.” His eyes glittered with anger and something else, something that looked a lot like. . . hurt.
“Well, I do. Try to take me out of here and I will scream for help,” she whispered. “I’ll tell these people to call the police and you’ll end up spending the night in jail.”
Jackson made a sound halfway between a grunt and a growl. “That was your plan all along, wasn’t it? Act like you cared about me, get me to lower my guard, and then make a run for it?”
“Yep. Sure was,” Nicky said, hoping the words hurt him as much as he’d hurt her. That had been her plan at first. No need to let him in on how her plan had changed, how she’d started to dream about the future they were going to have together.
“Like I said before, you’re a great actress. You had me completely fooled.”
Nicky flinched despite herself. Angry Jackson she could deal with, but hurt Jack. . . She felt like she was being gutted by the pain clear in his words. It was almost enough to make her tell him the truth— that she’d been as fooled as he was until she’d heard him on the phone checking into her criminal background.
Criminal background. The thought made her grit her teeth and the anger helped banish the last of her guilt. This man didn’t know her and didn’t trust her. Talking would be futile.
“That must have been hard for you, pretending to be attracted to me, to love me,” Jackson said, his grip on her wrist growing so tight Nicky flinched again, this time in pain.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Good.” His eyes grew even colder but his fingers gentled on her arm. Nicky took the opportunity to jerk her hand free and back a few steps away.
“I think you should go.” She crossed her arms and stuck her chin in the air, willing herself not to show how upset she was. “People are starting to stare.”
“Let them stare. I’m not going anywhere without you, even if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to the car.”
“So I guess you want to go to jail,” Nicky said, a part of her wanting to slap the stubborn expression off his face. What was he thinking? This was insane. He couldn’t abduct her again in front of half a dozen people and expect to get away with it. He really would be arrested if he tried that. “Is that why you kidnapped me in the first place? You have dreams of a life behind bars and a little boyfriend you can make your butt monkey?”
“I’ll give you one last chance, Nick. Walk with me to the car, or I’m going to carry you out.”
“You’re crazy if you think—” Nicky’s words ended in a squeal as Jackson did exactly as he’d threatened, scooping her over his shoulder in one smooth movement and turning toward the door.
“No! Put me down!” She yelled and pounded on his back with her fists.
How dare he? She was not a fucking child! She was an adult who— no matter what her sexual preferences were— deserved to be treated with respect and to have people listen when she said “no.” Her husband might never have gotten that message, but Jackson sure as hell would. She’d send the bastard to jail and see how he enjoyed having his free will stolen away.
“Help! Someone, call the—”
Jackson’s hand covered her mouth, cutting off her words as he swung through the door. Nicky could only pray someone in the diner knew where Jackson lived and would call for help. In the meantime, she would just have to do her best to fight for her freedom. No matter what, she wasn’t going to passively submit to Jackson— or anyone else— ever again.
 
 
 
She was nearly naked again, wearing nothing but tiny black panties. Her jeans had been soaked through or he wouldn’t have taken them off. He needed her shirt off to get to the tattoo, but not her pants. It certainly would be a hell of a lot easier to concentrate if she were wearing more clothes. The time for making love or fucking or whatever they’d been doing was over. From this point on, he was all business.
Too bad this business had an awful lot in common with one of his favorite pleasures.
Bondage had been a huge turn-on even before he discovered the BDSM lifestyle. Either binding another or being bound himself, it didn’t much matter. Both made him hard enough to shatter rock. So it was no surprise his cock swelled uncomfortably within the confines of his jeans as he cuffed Nicky’s wrists to the mission-style headboard of the bed.
He couldn’t help being aroused, but he could have helped the way his fingertips traced the column of her spine, past the small of her back and down her legs. He should have refrained from gripping her just above the knees and pulling her thighs slowly apart, digging his fingers into the soft flesh.
Wider. Wider. Moving his fingers to wrap around her ankles.
A soft moan of excitement escaped Nicky’s lips, making Jackson’s breath rush out in a sigh of relief. He’d felt like a monster since the second he’d thrown her over his shoulder at the diner, a feeling that had only gotten worse as she continued to fight him all the way up to the cabin. With every passing second he’d become increasingly convinced that he’d gone too far, and truly crossed the line into abusive territory.
But that sigh of arousal helped calm his fears. No matter what she’d said in the diner or on the road up to the cabin, she hadn’t been faking her physical responses to his touch.
Her emotional response, however, was another thing altogether.
“See there, Nicky. Aren’t you glad I caught you in time?” His voice was as rough as the rope he used to secure first one ankle and then the other to the baseboard near her feet. He’d only brought the one pair of cuffs, so rope would have to do. At this point the idea of rope burns on Nicky’s delicate skin didn’t cause him much inner torment.
It was amazing how badly it had hurt to realize she’d been lying to him from the moment they’d arrived at the cabin. But then he’d been a fool to believe the woman he’d kidnapped could really come to love him again in less than a day. No matter what he felt for her, no matter that it had seemed she felt the same way, it had been pure stupidity to drop his guard. He should have stuck to his original plan from the beginning and spared himself the heartache.
And abducting Nicky again from a public place, asshole. You’ve really lost it, and chances are better than good you’ll be facing criminal charges.
His inner voice was channeling Christian this evening.
It was irritating as hell, and unfortunately, probably right on the money. Even if the people in the diner didn’t call the police to report what they’d seen, Nicky now had several witnesses to corroborate her claims of being kidnapped.
A day ago, he would have said that it didn’t matter, that he wouldn’t have denied the charges anyway. But now a part of him would be sorely tempted to insist their weekend trip had been a consensual affair. He was that angry about being taken for a ride. Or that devastated, take your pick.
He preferred angry. It hurt a hell of a lot less.
“Tell me, Nicky,” he whispered, his voice thick with anger. “Now.”
He finished up at her ankles and moved over her prone form, bracing his hands on either side of her shoulders, hovering close enough that he could feel the heat of her body but not the silky softness of her skin. He moved his mouth just the barest bit closer, letting his lips brush softly against the back of her neck as he spoke again. “Tell me what you want.”
Nicky shivered, but he could tell it wasn’t from the cold. She was aroused, he would bet his hands on it. If he let his fingers slide into those tiny black panties, he’d find her wet and ready, no matter how much of a fight she’d put up as he carried her up the stairs and wrestled her onto her stomach on the bed.
“Fuck you,” she whispered, anger clear in her tone as well.
So she was pissed as well as turned on. Good. That made two of them.
“I don’t think so. No more distractions. We’re going to finish this,” he said, reaching over to where the tattoo machine sat beside the bed.
Jackson flipped the switch on the motor then pulled on his latex gloves. He’d already prepped the gun with black ink, so they were ready to go. All he had to do was put the needle to her skin. He’d planned how he would modify the tat if Nicky refused to give him her input, so there was no reason to stall any further. In half an hour, he could be finished and they could both be getting ready to head back to L.A. He should get on with it already.
But for some reason, he couldn’t force his hand to move any closer.
“Tell me what you want, Nicky. This is your last chance,” he said, hoping she heard the resolve in his voice. If she didn’t talk now, she would lose the opportunity.
But she didn’t say a word, only pressed her face into the quilt beneath her, every muscle tensed, braced for the feel of the needle piercing her skin. The position only emphasized how small she was. Her wrists were tinier than ever, and her shoulder blades and the knobs of her spine were clearly visible through her skin, once more inspiring the desire in Jackson to get to work fattening her up.
He should just forget this tattoo madness and go down and reheat the pasta, bring it up here so they could eat it together in bed. They could feed each other tortellini and sips of red wine, then have each other for dessert. After all, who needed cheesecake when you could have your tongue buried in something as sweet as Nicky’s pussy?
The imagined scene made his cock ache even as his throat grew uncomfortably tight. Nothing like that was ever going to happen again. It had all been a lie, every touch, every word.
What a fucking fool he was.
Jackson’s anger sharpened to a knifepoint. She’d let him think they had a future, made him happier than he’d been in years, only to tear him down hours later. She’d cried in his arms, for god’s sake, wept because she was so overwhelmed by what she was feeling.
Except now he knew she hadn’t been feeling anything at all. It had been an act.
Seconds later, without him having made the conscious decision to move, the tattoo gun was on her flesh, tracing the edge of the wing he intended to expand. He’d add enough feathers to cover the angel’s body, then go to work on the face, covering the ethereal features with wild strands of black hair. By the time he was finished, no one would recognize his tat and Nicky’s as similar, let alone matching in every detail. And when the resemblance was gone, he’d finally be free of this obsession with a woman who couldn’t care less.
“Stop.”
“Sorry. I can’t,” he said, clenching his jaw and refusing to acknowledge the guilt that whispered through his rage. Screw guilt. It wasn’t going to get this job done.
“Don’t. Stop it. Stop!” The words started as a whisper, but ended in a scream. Nicky’s shout echoed off the walls of the bedroom, followed closely by the horrific sound of a woman crying.
No, she wasn’t just crying. She was wailing like her heart was breaking, weeping so hard her shoulders shook as the sobs wracked her body. She seemed to be trying to speak through her tears, but the words were unintelligible.
One thing was for certain, however— there was no way he could continue the tattoo with her shaking like a leaf and clearly so upset. He might be angry with her, but he wasn’t that monster he feared he was becoming.
You’re not? So, you’ll strap a woman down, but not sit on her to force her to hold still. What a fucking gentleman.
Shame swept through Jackson’s body like a blast of cold air, shocking him to the core. What was he doing? How could he really go through with this? It was madness. What’s more, it was cruel. No matter what Nicky had done, no matter how she’d made him feel, he was supposed to be a better person than this. At least, that’s what he’d always told himself.
Now. . . he wasn’t so sure.
The way he’d acted bore a strong resemblance to every piece-of-shit foster father he’d ever known. Looked like he’d grown up to be more like the men who had beat him, the men who he’d watched starve their own biological kids to pay for beer, the men who had hit their wives and terrorized their families. He’d once watched his first foster dad chain a seven-year-old girl in a dog-house for a night because she’d taken the change from the couch cushions to buy candy.
That night, as ten-year-old Jackson had listened to his foster sister cry and beg for someone to come get her, he had vowed he’d never hurt anyone the way he’d watched so many people be hurt. He’d sworn he would be the type of man who helped people, who made their lives better.
But now he was standing above a woman he’d forcibly bound to a bed, listening to her cry hysterically.
In that moment, something inside him snapped. He had to stop this. Now. Before he hurt Nicky any more than he already had, and before he committed an act of violence that would haunt him forever.