Jack In The Box

Chapter 16

When I woke up in the morning, there was another tray of food at the edge of the bed with a badly cooked omelet, hash browns, sliced kiwi and a glass of OJ.

Ritualistically, I brushed my teeth first, had a quick shower and pulled on a t-shirt from the wardrobe. I was actually starting to like Jackson’s choice of clothes that he’d bought for me.

I reached out for the tray of food before sniffing it. The omelette tasted alright, but a little on the saltier side. Jackson was a bad cook indeed.

When I was done eating, I climbed out of bed reluctantly and made my way out of the bedroom to find Jackson sprawled on the couch with a book in his hand.

I recalled all the events of the previous night and how I continued to accuse him even after he’d repeatedly told me he was innocent. I realized that lashing out on him wasn’t going to get me anywhere. If anything, I had to stay calm and find another way.

There was one thing that was clear, Jackson wouldn’t hurt. If he wanted too, he would have done that when he first brought me to this cabin. I would be in a chair, bound and tortured.

Like his other victims. A voice hissed in my head.

I brushed off that thought because my gut told me Jack was telling the truth. He hadn’t killed those people and I hoped like hell that I was right.

“Thank you for the breakfast.” I said, trying to appear a little cheerful.

“Glad you’re still alive after having it.” He grumbled.

Normally, Jackson would say something else along with the retort, but today he remained silent, almost detached.

“I want to say that I’m sorry for the things I said to you yesterday. I didn’t let you explain.”

“Damn right you didn’t.” He said in a monotone, sitting upright. “I want to know who killed those people as much as you do, Riley. You’ve got to believe me.”

I sat down on the couch beside him. “You’re saying you didn’t kill them?”

“Probably said it a million times since yesterday.”

“Jackson—”

“Call me Jack.” He insisted.

I gave a nod. “Jack, how about you pretend to be in my shoes for a minute? Imagine if you were kidnapped by a psychopath and you heard all the news about him on tv, all the atrocious crimes he committed, wouldn’t you be having doubts as well?”

He grinned. “I’d be thinking goddamn he’s hot and I’d want to bang that psychopath one of these nights.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re just feeding your own ego.”

Jackson chuckled. “You want me, Cotton-Candy, you just don’t want to admit.”

yourself that until you convince yourself.” I

ma’am. And I promise you one of these days, you’re going to come in my bed willingly, begging me to put my hands on you and that time, Riley. I’m

happen in

to my feet and was headed towards the kitchen. My face resembled a beetroot, and I didn’t want Jackson to see how the things he said affected me.

he flirted with me, and teased me, it gave me certain butterflies in my stomach, the type I was having right now and that really made

infuriated me how he was always sarcastic about serious issues, as if the police weren’t even looking for him, like his face wasn’t all over the fucking news. He was acting like we were here

boring the hell outta me. He was having a huge bowl of tortilla chips and a can of

“How about grilled chicken sandwiches

the wife wants.” He

to being a complete joker and

you hand me a coke from the

possess two pairs of limbs. Last time I checked, I

snigger

the stove when I felt his body hovering behind mine and then I watched from the corner of my

presence behind me. A shadow. My heart turned to ice as I wondered what would happen. My hands were practically shivering as

I wrong to assume

Was my time up?

standing behind to hurt me, I had a knife in my

in a soft

“Hmm?”

if I tied

“No.”

scalp and gather my hair in his fist as

“Riley?” He started again.

“What?”

I kissed that little black mole

insane but the sexual tension was too much and my knees were having a

if you don’t

my eyes, my hands were still shaking. The

His charcoal black eyes seemed lighter in the sunlight, almost like dark coffee. The last time that he’d kissed me it was in a public place, between the blasting noise

kissed. “I would never hurt you, Riley.

said anything about

and the smell of his

his imposing height. I moaned loud when his hands reached for the hem of my shirt and up

realized the reason why I was crying. He cupped my face in his hands. “I’m sorry, Riley. My

not that, Jack. You

“Then make me understand.”

you, and yet here I’m kissing you and letting you feel me

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