I nod, speechless. My hand shakes as I open the cover.
“Where’s your shit-boyfriend?” he asks.
I keep my gaze down and sign my name. My voice is barely audible as I reply, “Gabe’s not my boyfriend.”
I hand him the book, but I still can’t meet his gaze. Looking at him feels like surrender.
“How are all of your girlfriends?” I say, making sure he hears the disdain in my voice.
“Girlfriends?” He presses his palms to the table.
I peek up, and now, I can’t look away, as if he’s commanding me silently.
His voice lowers for only me to hear. “Stay away from him, or I’ll cut off his slimy hands so he can’t touch you again.” His eyes narrow, and the swirling rage behind them leaves no doubt his threat is real.
He grabs the book.
“I want a picture.” He hands Bailey his phone.
I forgot she was here. I stand up and Jack practically drags me to his side. His body is hard and warm. I fit perfectly under his arm. His hand grips my upper arm as he presses me firmly against him.
That cologne... Amberwood and smoke. Dangerously familiar.
Memories slam back, and suddenly, I am straddling his lap, kissing him, holding his muscled jaw, and inhaling that sexy aroma once more.
Before Bailey returns his phone, he holds me in place and whispers in my ear.
“You’re shaking, Morgan. You scared of me,baby?”
And the way he says ‘baby’ holds no affection. It’s a challenge disguised as a word. His tone is taunting and claiming at once.
I gawk, and he lets go.
“Unblock me,” he adds.
“What?”
“Now.” He spots my phone in my pants pocket and grabs it like he can do whatever he wants. I scowl, but he isn’t fazed. “Unblock me.”
“Jack,” I whisper-plea. I close my eyes because I can’t look at him as I say, “We shouldn’t talk anymore.”
“If only you said the same to your rapist, I wouldn’t be here.”
My lashes flutter open.
He murmurs, “Right now, baby. I’m not leaving till you do.”
Something tells me he’s not bluffing.
And if he keeps using that pet name, despite its mocking quality, I might faint.
Maybe that’s the reason, I don’t know exactly, but I unlock my phone and do as he says.
The second I tap unblock, an unexpected wave of relief washes over me.
“Good, church girl.Neverblock me.”
The command is disturbing. Another man who confuses and makes me feel like he’s taking my ability to choose.
