Shattered (LOST #3)(19)

What is he doing to me?

Sarah backed away from him.

And Jax smiled.

“WAKE UP, MOLLY.”

The voice was low, rumbling, and it pierced through the heavy darkness around Molly Guthrie. She jerked, but found that her hands were tied behind her back. She was sitting on a hard wooden chair, and her feet were bound to the chair’s legs.

It was pitch-black around her, and even though she strained, Molly couldn’t see anything.

But he’s there.

“Please,” she whispered. “Let me go. I won’t tell anyone about you.” Her words came out slurred and rough, and she wondered what he’d used to drug her.

But he laughed. “Liar. You get out, you’ll tell everyone.”

She shook her head. “I—I promise.”

She thought she heard the faint creak of wood. As if he’d stepped forward, somewhere in that darkness. Somewhere . . . close.

“I’m not ready to lose you, not yet.”

Then she felt something cold and hard slide up her arm. Something with a sharpened tip, like a knife.

Please, no, not a knife. Not the knife!

“Are you thinking about your mother?” he asked her. His voice was such a deep rumble and an image of his face flashed in her mind. He’d been handsome. He’d smiled. Looked . . . charming. It had seemed safe enough to walk with him.

He isn’t safe.

“How long do you think she screamed for help?”

Molly didn’t know. She’d tried so hard not to think about her mother over the years. Or to imagine what her last moments would have been like.

“She probably screamed for help first,” he said, voice almost musing. “But then I bet . . . I bet she started begging to die.”

Molly shook her head, an instinctive move.

His insidious laughter came again. “You don’t think so? That’s what they usually do, before the end. Because the pain gets to be too much, and by then, the only escape is death.”

A tear slid down her cheek.

“We’ll find out, you and I,” he promised as the tip of the knife pressed into her cheek. “We’ll see just how long it is before you start to beg.”

Then there was a flash, bright, as if—as if he’d just taken her picture.

“Now we begin . . .”





Chapter 4

WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING TO ME LAST NIGHT?”

Jax turned at Sarah’s question. She’d followed him out of that hotel suite and now she was in the elevator with him. The scent of vanilla clung in the air around him, and it was so tempting to have her near. He wanted to reach out and touch her.

He didn’t.

Jax knew he wouldn’t stop with a touch. He wouldn’t stop until he fucked her again, and while sex in an elevator—with her—would no doubt be amazing, this wasn’t the time.

The doors closed, sealing them inside. “Let’s see . . .” he murmured. “Did you want me to say something before we fucked? Or maybe after you snuck from my bed?”

Her cheeks flushed. Cute. He hadn’t been sure he could make her blush. He could.

“That’s why you came to see me last night, isn’t it?” Sarah asked. “Because you wanted to hire LOST, not because you . . . you wanted me.”

He stepped closer to her. Sarah didn’t retreat. He rather liked that about her. “Let’s be clear,” Jax said, his words soft. “I want you very, very much.”

She swallowed.

He smiled. “Hiring LOST is totally separate from us. But, yes, I came to this hotel because I wanted to see about hiring your group. Then you had that asshole in the ski mask try to knife you, and things got a little off track.”

Her eyelids flickered and she glanced over at the elevator’s control panel. They were slowing now, and the doors opened. As soon as the little ding stopped sounding overhead, she tried to hurry past him.

He made sure to keep perfect pace with her as they moved into the lobby. “Do you want to tell me . . .” Jax began softly, “why you were afraid when you came into that suite earlier?”

She stopped in the middle of the lobby and turned toward him.

He stood right beside her, but he was careful not to touch her. “Tell me,” he pushed, “why you’re scared now.” Surely she wasn’t afraid of him. Hadn’t he shown her that he wouldn’t hurt her? If he had his way, he’d destroy anyone who ever even thought about hurting her. Like that jerk from last night who’d—

“I went to see Eddie Guthrie this morning.”

Ah, that would be the jerk in question.

But then she shook her head. “Look, no, forget about me, okay. You’re a client. I’m supposed to be interviewing you. So let’s go grab some coffee and we can talk—see what you might remember about your past and go from there.”

So adorable. Did she actually think he’d never tried to visit a shrink and unlock the memories of his life before the kidnapping? “It’s not that easy.”

A faint furrow appeared between her brows. “Coffee is easy, I promise.”

She was good at evasion and distraction. He was better. “Eddie Guthrie made you afraid today. Even though he’s locked away.” He didn’t like that. “Want me to take care of that problem for you?”