Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“You are welcome. But remember what I said, Jeni. Everything comes with a price.”
“I know. I’m coming with you to San Francisco, aren’t I?”
“Simply getting on a plane is not enough.”
Of course it wasn’t. Why would it be? We were talking about Jack.
I started the engine. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my dad, so you might as well spit it out and tell me what you want.”
“You are not ready to hear it. But soon. Very soon.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jack hadn’t told me why we were going to San Francisco, but obviously he believed he’d find answers there.
Maybe a memory had surfaced. Maybe he’d seen something inside that woman’s head before he’d knocked her block with a two-by-four. Again, I didn’t know. The only thing that concerned me was that we’d be landing in thirty minutes, and I still had no clue about why he brought me along. What did he expect me to do? I wasn’t buying his story about needing my “resources.”
Bullshit. He was plenty resourceful on his own. For example, when we checked into the airport, he’d simply stared at the security woman. She’d thanked him and let him pass. No ID. Just a ticket in his hand.
I didn’t want to admit it, but Jack had Jedi abilities that defied logic. Should I be worried? Fuck yes. But worrying wasn’t going to help me now.
After we landed at SFO, I deplaned and found Jack waiting outside the gate, since he’d insisted on sitting in first class and had been miraculously upgraded by the attendant.
I wished I had his abilities.
He greeted me with a nod, and we walked through the airport in silence while I held back the plethora of questions piling up inside my head. What was the point in asking them? He already knew what I was thinking, and he wasn’t going to answer.
We stepped outside into the cold night air, complete with drizzle. It reminded me of the night Jack and I met, just three days ago.
Would someone die tonight, too?
We loaded into a taxi, and I still said nothing. I was afraid. I was angry that he’d blackmailed me to leave my father. I was resentful that he couldn’t be a good man. Because deep down, I was beginning to want him to be.
In fact, the more I thought about him and his abilities, the more I realized the good he could do. A person who could read the thoughts of others was in a position to solve murders, not commit them. They could weed out corrupt politicians, help stop serial killers, and assist the wrongly accused. He could heal the sick. Gifts like his could change the world. Maybe he’s not the devil. Maybe he’s an angel.
“Stop,” he growled under his breath, sitting next to me in the back seat of the yellow cab.
“Stop what?”
“I have had to listen to your incessant head chatter for five straight hours. Enough is fucking enough. I am no angel. I am not here to do good. Never forget that.”
The cab driver looked at me in the rearview mirror. I decided to occupy myself by watching the traffic. I didn’t like conflict. On the other hand, I was entitled to think what I wanted. If Jack didn’t like it, he could stay the fuck out of my head! Of course, he might kill me instead.
Jack leaned toward me and whispered in my ear, “I am not going to kill you, so shut the fuck up. I cannot think with all that noise.”
I turned my head and looked up at his exquisite face—the arches of his perfectly shaped brows, the angular jaw, the supple lips framed by dark stubble. “If you don’t want to hear my thoughts, then try getting the hell out of…” Wait. Unless. You can’t shut me out?
He said nothing. He didn’t have to.
“Why? Why not?” I asked.
“Hell if I know, Miss Arnold.”
“Is it like that with everyone?”
“No,” he replied sharply.
It was only with me. Did it make me special in some way? “Is that why you wanted me to come with you?”
“No.”
“Then why am I really here?” I asked.
“I am not the only one with abilities, Jeni.” His stare grew intense.
He meant me?
“You’re nuts.” I laughed.
“Have you ever asked yourself why you truly shy away from others, why you live in fear of the world?”
I never asked because I knew why; my mother’s death wrecked me.
“Wrong. Your mother’s death cultivated a deadly rage within you, and that is what you fear: What you might do with it.”
By now the cab driver was getting very interested in our conversation, so I clamped my mouth shut.
“Think, Jeni,” Jack said calmly, his voice filled with arrogance. “Think long and hard about the night we met.”
What the hell was he driving at?
The cab slowed to a stop, breaking us away from our intense conversation.