I looked away, ashamed of my clingy thoughts.
He dropped my hand and grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his intense blue eyes. “Jeni, I cannot stress this enough: I am a very bad man. You have no business feeling anything for me aside from fear, suspicion, and hate.”
“But you don’t even know who you a—”
“No.” He cut me off sharply. “I have already explained this. Good people do not feel what I feel. They do not hold such rage. And never forget that I would betray you in a heartbeat if it served me.”
I blinked up at him. “You don’t scare me.”
His dark brows pulled together. “Why the hell not, woman?”
Good question. “I have walked through life being afraid of people, feeling like a victim waiting to happen. When I’m with you, I feel…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I felt terrified every second of every minute being by Jack’s side, but that was a thousand times better than the mental prison of helplessness he’d broken me out of. Bottom line, I was starting to realize how much I hungered for the changes happening in my life, and he was the only one who could take me all the way.
“You are a peculiar creature, Jeni.” His gaze slowly sank down to my lips.
I would let him kiss me if he wanted. I would let him do so much more, just as long as he didn’t walk away.
“So much more?” He arched an inquisitive brow.
“I just…I want…to see where this goes.”
“Then you shall see.” A wicked smile flashed across his sinful lips, and then he bent his head, pressing his mouth to mine.
I felt the heat pulse on my lips and course down my neck. It worked its way into my chest, then lower. A horrible, frightening, and fucking delicious ache stirred deep inside me.
He slowly pulled back, a look of surprise on his face as our eyes locked. I didn’t know what his expression meant, but I knew what mine did. That kiss felt familiar. Like my body knew his.
“What was that?” I asked.
All signs of emotion melted from his face. “I will let you know when I find out.”
See. There. That was what I was talking about. This man was completely in his element, dealing with the strange and inexplicable. I was drawn to his strength because he made me feel safe in a very unsafe world.
He shook his head. “You are anything but safe; however, you have been warned.”
“I can handle myself, Jack.”
He laughed. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
This time I called an Uber to take us to the small boutique hotel Jack had booked on his own, about a half a block from the entrance of China Town. I’d never been to this city, but something about it suited Jack. Maybe because there was a darkness to San Francisco I couldn’t quite explain. The Victorian homes, painted in bright colors, felt like they were watching us as our car passed by. The narrow steep streets we drove down and the old church we passed gave off an energy, too, like they were old souls monitoring our presence. All around us, I felt it. Unsettled business. Secrets. Memories seeping from the brick and plaster of every old building.
Jesus, this is weird.
“Stop,” Jack said to the driver. “I want you to turn here.”
The driver tried to explain that Ubers didn’t work like taxis, but then he shut up and started driving. Whatever Jack did to him, the man simply obeyed. It was unnerving how Jack could control everyone around him.
“Not everyone,” he muttered, staring ahead with an intense gaze.
I knew he meant me, but that wasn’t true. So far, I’d done everything he asked.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I recognize this street.”
I tried not to think of the cuff in my bag that could explain why the street felt familiar. I tried not to think of my sick attachment to this man.
“There. That house.” Jack pointed up the winding street.
I looked out the window at an imposing blue Victorian, with purple and green turrets, perched atop the hill overlooking a small ocean of rooftops and the Golden Gate Bridge off in the distance.
The sun was just coming up, but the fog and drizzle gave the home an unwelcoming vibe. The dark windows seemed too dark, like the glass was painted black on the inside. The air around it seemed coated in heavy shadows. Even the pristine red roses in the front seemed wicked with their huge jutting thorns.
A chill crawled up my spine as the car parked at the curb, just at the end of the walkway leading to the enormous stained-glass front door.
Jack got out of the car. “Wait here,” he told the driver.
I got out, too, but stayed near the car on the sidewalk. Suddenly, my feet were freezing. No, not cold. Freezing. Like standing barefoot on ice.