“Stop! Stop! Stop!” I didn’t know where the surge came from, but I pushed Jack out of my head.
He stood motionless in the middle of the street, unaffected by my reaction.
“This isn’t happening.” I pressed the heels of my palms to my pounding temples.
“Or is the truth that we are connected by death? I am, after all, a man who has managed to defy it thousands of times.”
Who gave a shit? Not me. “What do you want, Jack?”
“As I said, I want you to help me find out what was taken from me. I want to know why. And then I want them to suffer for it.”
If he didn’t know what was done to him, how could he want someone to suffer for it? I understood there was an emptiness inside him, but—
“It is more than that,” he said in a firm tone. “I know someone I cared for was hurt. I know they were taken. And I know the only reason I am here with you today is because death wants its pound of flesh. It does not appreciate it when others meddle with its plans.”
He spoke about death like it was a person. And if what he said was true, then why wasn’t death upset with him? According to Jack, he’d meddled with death’s plans by staying alive.
“I hope to find out. Now,” he gestured toward the warehouse to our left, “if you do not mind, I would very much like to go inside and find out why the address for this place is tattooed on the inside of my mouth.” He pressed his index finger to his lower lip.
“No. Fuck no. This is as far as I go.”
Before I could react, Jack had me by one of my braids and dragged me through the warehouse door.
“Jack! You piece a shit! Let go!” I clawed and pushed, but his hand was like a vise. I couldn’t pry him off.
Suddenly, the lights in the warehouse came on, and he let go. I stopped fighting, too.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The warehouse was huge, filled with empty heavy-duty steel racks that reached the ceiling. Like most things I’d come to associate with Jack, this too made no fucking sense.
“Sonofa…” He marched off toward a set of stairs at the back of the football-field-length room.
Despite my need to punch him in the face, I stayed by the door. Something wicked occupied this building besides Jack. It was time to run. There was no other choice.
Stay, Jeni… a voice whispered in my head.
I jumped and did a three-sixty. “Who’s there?”
No one replied, of course.
I bolted for the door and didn’t stop until I was outside in the middle of the empty street. And lucky me, my mind thought that would be the ideal moment to rehash what Jack had just said about my special relationship with death.
You know how sometimes a person tells you something and a lightbulb comes on? Then suddenly you see a truth that had been staring you right in the face?
This was not one of those moments.
I didn’t feel the truth in his words. I never pushed people away because I was afraid of hurting them. I was afraid of them hurting me. So where he’d come up with this story?
It’s bullshit.
On the other hand, Jack seemed to know things—impossible things. Was it possible that I had killed Randall merely by wishing it?
“Yes. It’s fucking possible.” Jack emerged from the warehouse. “And it’s time you start accepting what you are.”
My breath hitched. Jack looked deadlier and more sexually addictive than ever before. His beautiful gaze was fierce, unwavering. His rigid posture exuded authority. Even his lips seemed more sensual. Whatever this place was, it gave him power.
I swallowed down a dry lump stuck in my throat. “I know there’s a lot about you I can’t explain, Jack, but that doesn’t mean you’re right about me. Or telling the truth.” Maybe he was the devil, sent to tempt me into his own personal hell.
“No. Not the devil.”
“But you want to suck me into a world only you see.”
“Dammit, woman,” he growled. “I am through with these games.”
I will show you, said the same deep voice I’d heard back at the police station in Tampa.
Suddenly, Jack’s strong hand was wrapped around my neck. “I told you I was not a nice man. And since you refuse to accept what you are, you are of no use to me. Except to bring the pleasure of watching you die.” He smiled down, his blue eyes filling with sadistic delight. He was enjoying this, just like Randall had.
He lifted me like a ragdoll and brought us nose to nose. “Maybe I’ll give you a good fuck, like Randall was going to. I know you’ve been thinking about getting my big cock inside you. Isn’t that right, Dorothy?”
The terror inside me began shifting. I wasn’t going to let him do this. I wasn’t weak. Not anymore.