“Stay.”
The whispered plea had her eyes snapping open. In spite of the fact that she didn’t want it to, hope was blossoming inside her.
“You’re not leaving for New York ’til Monday, stay ’til then.”
And just like that, the hope withered away. There was a spike of anger inside her. Here he was asking her to stay even though he knew she’d be hurting the entire time. And all just to feed his addiction. Taking a deep breath, she returned to her case and bag. She gave him one final look as she held open the front door. “Take care, Connor.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The second the door clicked shut behind Jaxxon, her esophagus began to ache and a pressure began to build in her chest. With each step she made toward the lift the pressure became heavier; a pressure that had nowhere to go and was expanding inside her like a balloon. It was destined to burst and she knew it, and she found herself distantly wondering if it would manifest itself in tears. She was only ‘distantly wondering’ because it was so hard to care. She had just walked away from the bloke she loved, who cared if she cried?
The very moment she stepped into the empty lift, her eyes began to sting and her throat felt swollen. Yep, she was going to cry alright and it seemed that her body was fighting it as her jaw hardened and her lungs were insisting on steady breaths. The feeling of descending as the lift began to lower only made the whole thing worse – the distance between her and Connor was increasing too quickly for her to deal with.
A part of her regretted ever letting him back into her life, but another part of her couldn’t bring herself to wish away the good laughs they’d had. Of course the infatuated teenager in her couldn’t understand why she was leaving him, believed that wherever he was she should be, and was heading for a breakdown. But the mature side of her who had moved passed what Nick and his gang and Matthew had done was resolute that she would get passed this too, was reminding her that sure it was painful but pain was part of life.
She hadn’t taken more than four steps out of the lift when her mobile phone began chiming. She dug it out of her bag and frowned at the screen. Tony. She really didn’t want to speak to anyone right now. She wasn’t even sure that any words would come out, at least not without sounding like she had a frog jammed in her throat. The tears were so close. But this was Tony – the bloke who had done so much for her and rented out his annexe to her and was even going to take care of her dog for her…She’d phone him back in a minute when she was feeling more composed.
Cancelling the call, she switched off her phone and flung it into her bag and made her way to the Emergency Exit. Chino was there as usual and gave her a nod and then a curious look as he spotted the suitcase. Still he politely held open the door and did his usual ‘bye’ salute. Only this time, almost as if he knew it was a permanent goodbye, he added a smile and a wave. She returned the smile and then continued through the alleyway, striving to ignore that the ache in her esophagus was now amazingly more prominent and that the pressure in her chest was so heavy she could hardly breathe. It just felt so wrong to walk away from him. Her brain told her it was the smart thing to do, her soul was crying out for her to retrace her steps until she was back in Connor’s apartment.
Shaking her head at herself, she picked up her pace and swerved sharply around the corner, passed the bins. Then she abruptly stopped dead at the sight in front of her.
Ant.
A curved blade.
“Sorry to interrupt your quick getaway but it sort of clashes with my agenda,” said the scratchy, pitiless voice that belonged to the twat holding a blade to Ant’s throat.
“You.”
“Yes, you really should have guessed it was me. I can see by your face that you didn’t. What, you thought I wouldn’t be clever enough to go around undetected like that? I’m offended.”
Seething, she had to grind her teeth to stop herself from barking a load of curses. She spared a few fleeting glimpses at Ant, not wanting to take her eyes off her stalker for very long. The poor kid was sweating and shaking and biting on his trembling lower lip. Yeah, she could well relate to the fear of having the decision of whether you live or die in the hands of someone else – this wasn’t a first time for her, but if her stalker’s expression was anything to go by, the plan was that this would be her last. She wanted to tell Ant it was going to be alright, that she wouldn’t let him be hurt, but she couldn’t show too much concern for him in front of the twat.
“Nice kid,” said the stalker. “Bugging his house helped a lot with keeping track of what you were up to. As soon as I heard his dad talking about you leaving early I knew I’d have to make my move. I predicted that you wouldn’t cooperate so I brought along a damsel for you to save – you never could resist them, could you? You know, I was hoping that you’d go back to his annexe after I’d strafed your place; that would have made it a lot easier to get to you and there wouldn’t have been any nice CCTV footage of me hurling you out. Not like with your apartment building. But…you went and stayed with him – at least you’ve been so kind as to use the side exit where no one’s around, the camera’s no longer functional in case you were wondering. You know, I don’t get why women flock round that bastard. Is it the danger vibe that you like?” The malicious smile widened. “I’ve got a danger vibe myself, and you’re about to find out just how bad it is. First, I need you to make your way to that navy Ford Escort car just behind the other set of bins. Bring your stuff with you. Don’t worry, me and Ant will be right behind you.”
Jaxxon shook her head. “Not a chance. I’ve seen this film: the victim does as she’s told but the hostage still gets hurt once his role’s up. I’ll go with you, but only if you let him go first. Before you ask, no I’m not expecting you to just let him run crying for help. Tie him up or knock him unconscious if you must, but his role ends now.” She knew she was taking a chance here but she could see how eager the stalker was to get hold of her; she was the objective in all this and she was so close – the thing that the stalker had been building up to was so close to fruition.
Her stalker laughed. “How is it that you’re the one making demands when I’m the one with the knife?”
“Anyone can pick up a knife – that doesn’t make you terrifying to me. Having said that, I want to live, so for as long as you’re pointing it at me I’ll have to do as I’m told. But you’re not pointing it at me, are you?”