Page 90 of Hey Jude

“Fuck this. I’m coming to see you. I need to talk some sense into you. I’ll make you understand that you can’t do this.”

The line goes dead. I’ve made a horrible mistake. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to steady my breathing.

I walk slowly to the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face. My cheeks are flushed, but I take several deep breaths to regain some composure before returning outside.

As I step out the door, I avoid Jude’s eyes for a moment, focusing instead on the equipment left to load into the truck. When I finally meet his gaze, he looks concerned.

“You okay? What was that about?” he asks, tilting his chin at the house. He walks over and rubs my shoulders, giving me a kiss on the forehead.

“Oh, nothing,” I lie and force a smile. I hate myself for it, but I can’t tell him. The thought of him knowing about how I’d let myself get into this situation with Sean… The shame of it chokes me, trapping the words in my throat.

“You sure?” His brow creases, searching my expression.

“Yes, totally fine. Let’s finish packing up.” I move to lift a few buckets and bags into the truck for him. Murphy wanders over and I give him a scratch on the head, grateful to have the distraction—and an excuse to avoid Jude’s attention. I take my time giving the dog extra love, focusing on breathing like a calm person.

“Do you want me to stay again tonight?” he asks carefully. “Last night in the big house.” He flicks his eyes to the windows on the upper floor, raising an eyebrow at me.

I turn to look at him and smile. Yes, please. Always. It’s not a hard question to answer.

He lifts a wheelbarrow into the bed of the truck, then wipes his brow with the back of his gloved hand.

“I want you to stay every night.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up in a soft smile. “Deal.”

38

OLENA

Sean’s terrified eyes bore into mine from across the room, the man’s knife pressed against his throat. I struggle against the other man’s hand over my mouth, desperately trying to breathe. Or scream. I can’t do either. My hands scratch at his forearms and my feet slide uselessly against the cold floor. He’s so much stronger than I am; I can feel his breath on my face.

“Where’s our money, asshole?” the guy holding onto Sean spits in anger, pressing the knife deeper into Sean’s skin. Sean is barely breathing, petrified.

“Did you think we wouldn’t find you?” the guy holding me shouts, his voice booming in my ear, echoing as I struggle to get free. “Did you think we wouldn’t fucking find you?”

I’m thrashing against Jude’s arms when his voice cuts through the terror and reaches me at last.

“Olena!” He pleads with me, trying to catch my flailing limbs. “Olena!”

My last couple of swings soften when I finally realize where I am. The tension leaves my arms and I crumple forward. He scoops me into his chest as I heave racking sobs of fear, of relief, of exhaustion.

“Shh, you’re okay, it’s me. I’m here. I’m here.” He whispers the soothing words against my sweat-slicked hair.

My face feels both hot and cold and the damp sheets tangle my legs, restraining me. I kick them away in a panic, the restriction on my movements intolerable, then retreat once again into the safety of his arms. I gulp breaths of air against his bare chest, my own chest heaving as my pulse hammers hard.

“Just breathe,” he reminds me.

I try. My breaths are ragged but slowing. I squeeze my arms around him.

“I’m—” I try to speak, but my voice is hoarse. “I’m sorry.” Hot tears spill over my cheeks.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. He rubs my back and holds me until I can breathe more steadily.

I glance at the clock and see it’s just after five in the morning. I doubt we’ll get back to sleep.

Jude follows my gaze, seeing the time too. He brushes my damp hair out of my face and kisses me gently. “I’m gonna make us some coffee, okay?”

I can only nod. I curl up in the fetal position on the bed while he’s gone and try to forget about the nightmare—and about Sean’s threat to come to Lennox. He can’t show up here. He can’t.

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