Middle of Knight (Jack & Jill 2)

“Dr. Jones? Our goal is to get you home as soon as possible, but we can’t do that until you answer our questions.

“You’re those people who trained her … aren’t you?”

The muscle in “Knox’s” jaw ticked. Luke watched him, knowing he would have to decipher the truth from his actions because his words, right down to his name which sounded made-up, gave nothing away.

“You know about us?” He smirked, but Luke didn’t miss the three rapid blinks before he answered. “What did Ms. Day tell you about her training?”

“It’s confidential.”

“Well if you believe we—as you say—trained her, then I don’t see what you could possibly tell me that I don’t already know.”

Once the shock of having seen a ghost wore off, the agony of how she looked settled into his chest, bringing to life a pain that felt as raw as the day he lost her. The image of her bloodshot eyes would haunt him forever. Her body sagged as much as the dark circles beneath those vacant eyes, like she hadn’t slept in days. It was real. She stood before him, but there was no life inside of her.

“Are they all alive? Her parents? Jude?”

“Here’s what you need to know, Dr. Jones. Jessica is alive. She’s not being held against her will. And you will never see her again. If you want to continue breathing, then I suggest you acknowledge who holds the power. You need to answer my questions, and then we will return you to your life.”

“You have my fucking life!” Luke slammed his fists on the table sending Knox’s coffee off the edge.

Knox took a deep breath. His jaw muscles clenched again as he shook the hot coffee from his hand. “Unfortunate circumstances such as this one don’t happen often, but when they do I usually give the forgotten a chance to go home. Ultimately my priority is protecting my own.”

“She’s not yours.”

Knox smirked. “I can assure you … I claimed her long before you did.”

Luke lunged across the table. “You fucker!”

Everything went black.

*

Day

The rescue shelter had told Luke the little black and white Great Dane was the runt of the litter and he probably would only grow to the size of a large Labrador retriever. At eighteen months he measured thirty-four inches in height, weighing in at just under one hundred and sixty pounds—so much more than he ever dreamed. That summed up his relationship with Jessica too.

The nearly two years since he’d met her felt like two seconds. His fear that she would settle into some sort of normalcy and the light that brought life to his existence would fade … it didn’t happen. Even with all his “studying,” Jessica remained as unpredictable as the day they met. He had yet to wake up with her in his arms. The Qin dynasty remained separated from the Nomads. She seemed content with it more than he did. Jessica never imagined him, them, Jones, living together, holidays with family—a life. She never asked for a ring or a wedding, children, or a promise beyond today.

However, Luke wanted that—and he wanted it with her—but not until he could wake up with her in his arms. He wondered if her contentment would prevent that from ever happening. The progress they’d made with her past had by all accounts been remarkable. Separating Dr. Jones from Luke presented a challenge with certain topics, such as her past lovers or as she referred to them “victims.” She doled the information out over many months. They both agreed it was one of the more difficult topics.

“Our kids are going to ride you like a horse, Jones.” Jessica laughed as Jones greeted her at the door. Even in heels she wasn’t that much taller.

Luke listened to her talk to said horse while he poured her a glass of wine in the kitchen. He loved those rare moments of hearing her talk about “our kids,” as if it was a foregone conclusion. Then on cue, he heard one clack followed by a second as she kicked off her heels, letting them fly where they may. In their almost two years together she went from messy to a complete disaster, yet he still adored her beyond words.

“Mmm …” She smiled as he handed her a glass of wine. After taking a sip, she lifted onto her toes and kissed him. That was the reason he too drank wine. It would forever remind him of how her tongue tasted sliding against his. “Therapy Thursday … let’s do this.”

He smiled and followed her to the balcony with Jones right behind them. After a solid year of unofficial therapy three days a week, she requested her “sentence” be reduced. Luke said two days a week, she countered one … so of course it ended up being one. Therapy Thursday.