Page 36 of Somebody's Watching Me
“I hope you’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
Chapter 9
Her throat hurt.
She tried to swallow but choked on the feeling of a thousand razor blades slicing into her skin as they went down.
Thinking a cold was coming on, Jamison kept her eyes closed and snuggled into her pillow. Her muscles were sore, with spots along her abdomen, legs, and arms aching. She blindly reached for a blanket, the chill in the air making her shiver. At least she was home and could bask in the gloriousness that was Simone’s coddling.
Oh, and Annabeth’s homemade chicken noodle soup. If she played her cards right, maybe she could convince Simone to pull out the old cast iron skillet and make some cornbread to go with it.
A flash of Simone waving the skillet on the patio strobed through her memory, and Jamison flinched. The image merged with another. A handsome man.Michael.He was laughing with lips covered in blood. Toes. Light. Claws. A woman without a throat.
Mama’s here.
Jamison shot upright, swinging to fight off the unknown. As her vision cleared, the pinks and whites of her room took shape, erasing the terrifying scenes.
Panting, she sat for a moment to allow her brain to soak in the familiar surroundings. There was the sleek vanity imported from Italy by her father, and the dresser to match in the corner. The drapes fluttering in the wind coming through the open balcony door were made by her and Simone during one long, hot summer.
Each piece, each memory the space held, was hers. The bed she sat on and the nightstands holding the matching Tiffany lamps Ty had found at an estate sale. The fireplace taking up half a wall. The chandelier overhead. The piles and piles of books in her reading nook.
Hers. Hers. Hers.
But the man sitting in the cushy corner chair wasn’t hers.
Not anymore.
Liam remained where he was, waiting patiently for her to regain control. An untrimmed beard covered the lower half of his face, and the dark brown hair on his head looked longer. A mess of waves framing his sharpened cheekbones. He’d lost weight. Not much for the casual observer to notice, but the slightest change in him was easy for her to spot.
Like the haunted look in his eyes.
She’d seen it before. After tough investigations, that same look came over him. A quiet pain saturating his bottomless brown eyes, signaling he was close to a breaking point. He’d always been so careful, never allowing it to sit long enough to do any real damage.
But judging by the bitterness radiating off him, relying on that deep-rooted indifference was no longer in his power. Detached resentment hung heavy in the air between them, consuming all they once were and all they would never be again.
She didn’t speak. Strangled and silenced by her disbelief over his transformation. How had they become... this? Two strangers staring at one another without an ounce of emotion.
When he thought it safe to approach, Liam came over to stand next to the bed with his hands in his pockets. Her lips trembled under the weight of his gaze, and she blurted out the first thing that popped into her head.
“You look so ugly.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and he reached out to push a knotted batch of hair away from her face. “You don’t look so hot right now either.”
Sun trickled through one of the windows behind him, casting the room in the glow of sunrise. Her trembling bottom lip took on a life of its own, and she sucked it between her teeth.
This was it.
The day was here.
Their wedding day.
Her dress still hung in the bedroom closet. A simple mid-length gown consisting of dense satin with a shiny tulle overlay. Simone had fussed over the plunging neckline and shortness of it, wanting her to get something more subdued for their beach wedding. But Jamison had refused, specifically selecting the dress for Liam’s enjoyment. He loved her body, and she’d wanted to give him a treat. A little eye candy just for him.
But he would never see her in it.
The shaking began in her hands, working its way through her nervous system until overtaking it completely. Liam didn’t hesitate, knowing exactly how to handle the situation. From the start, his intuition regarding her needs and emotions bordered on the uncanny.
