05 Desperate Match Read online

  It hadn’t gone as planned. They’d had a good marriage, and then she’d gone on TV and lied and made him out to be some kind of violent crazy man. Had he hit her? Maybe a few times, but never that hard, and she knew he loved her, right? He was just trying to help her.

  He had a second of peace from the phone and then it started ringing again. He glanced at the caller ID, and this time he answered it. It was them. The Militia. He needed to know the damn plan after last night. He hoped it was that they were raiding The Program campus, guns blazing. ‘Cause he was in. First he was going to shoot the fucker who was banging his wife; then he was grabbing Jill and getting out.

  “Yeah,” he grunted into the phone.

  “Mr. Thompson?”

  “It’s me.”

  “Your services are no longer required of the Militia. We thank you for your time. Good day.” Click.

  “What!” He stared at the handset and cursed loudly enough to scare the nonexistent neighbors. He punched in the button to call the militia back.

  “Mr. Thompson, this will be your last phone call to this number. If you call it again, you will find it out of service.”

  “Just tell me what the fuck is going on. You’re screwing me? You can’t do this. I don’t have my wife back yet.”

  “It became clear to us last night that your wife will no longer be of use to us. She’s loyal to The Program now. Nothing short of torture would get her to talk.”

  “So torture her,” he blurted.

  “You’ve already taken care of that. We’re done.”

  Jack heard the silence indicating he’d been hung up on. He hurled the phone across the room where it dented the drywall, then fell to the wood floor. It was over. He’d lost Jill. He spent the rest of the day lying on the couch with the television on but not watching it. He was officially the most miserable son of a bitch in America. It was all Jill’s fault. She was a bitch. She didn’t deserve him.

  He wouldn’t take her back if she begged. Wait, he’d take her back long enough to teach her a lesson. She needed to understand loyalty and obedience to her husband. He didn’t need the militia; he’d get her back on his own. If he had to, he’d wait outside the gates of her new home. She had to leave eventually, right?

  As if by magic, his phone rang again and something made him answer it.

  “Jack Thompson?” A low male voice was on the other end.

  “Yeah?”

  “I know where your wife is. The Militia has abandoned you, but I will not. A man has a right to discipline his wife.”

  “I’m listening.” He sat straighter on the couch, feeling the first glimmer of hope in forty–eight hours. A smile stretched across his face as his savior gave him the details of where his wife was working.

  “You get one shot,” the stranger warned. “Don’t fuck it up.”

  “I won’t,” he promised, but the line was already dead.

  * * * * *

  “Jill, wait up. Can I speak to you for a second?”

  She froze in place wondering what Commander Shepard had to say to her. There was no option to say no. The man was Rowan’s boss, but given how long Rowan had made love to her this morning, she was running late for work. “Um, sure.” She glanced at her bare wrist where a watch would be. “I have some time before work.” She hoped she hadn’t sounded rude, but had correctly given the impression that she didn’t have all day to dally.

  “This will only take a minute.” The commander caught up to her and stood a foot away facing her. She waited.

  “I wanted to apologize to you.”

  Her brows furrowed. As far as she could remember, she and the commander had only spoken once before. He’d never done anything deserving forgiveness.

  “I haven’t been fair to you,” he explained. “I wanted you off campus, and my reasons were selfish. You were a complication I didn’t need.”

  Her lips parted and the apology that could’ve been automatic refused to leave. Why apologize now? Was it because of her TV interview, and how she’d swung America’s sympathy to The Program? How convenient.

  “Yeah, I was angry at Rowan at first,” Shep continued, “but I realize now he was right. Seeing you on TV last night reminded me that we’re not just here to protect the country in international issues. There are problems here at home. What kind of people would we be if we ignored them?”

  She found her voice. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “I’ll start working on finding couple housing for you, and as soon as your divorce is final, we’ll get the formal matching paperwork documents signed.”

  “Documents?” What documents was he talking about? Rowan had never mentioned anything and neither had Loren or any of her other new friends.

  “Simple contracts officially giving you a place on campus and some NDAs.”

  “NDAs?” The man was speaking in a foreign language.

  “Non–disclosure agreements,” Shep explained. “Basic paperwork that means you promise to keep any facts about our organization secret. But since you work a civilian job off campus, you’ll never learn any secrets in the first place, so it’s really a moot point.”

  She nodded like she understood. “What if someone thinks I know secrets?”

  “What do you mean?” Shep looked wary.

  “Like if they think I know stuff and they kidnap me and torture me to get me to spill secrets.”

  Shep smiled slightly. “You’ve been watching too much television. Since we’ve had several kidnappings in the last year, I won’t say your concern is completely unfounded. If you’re truly worried, stop working at Ikea. Stay on campus.”

  Stay on campus like it was a prison? “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. In that case, be aware of your surroundings and don’t make yourself a victim.”

  As someone who’d been a professional victim for nearly a decade, she wasn’t sure one could always help circumstances, but the risk was still worth it. Quitting her job and becoming totally dependent on Rowan and The Program wasn’t in her game plan. She never wanted to be totally dependent on anyone again. A piece of her mourned for the loss. Other people in relationships counted on each other, but she might’ve lost the bit of her soul that could relinquish itself into another’s care. She loved Rowan and didn’t doubt his love for her, but she’d never place her physical and financial well–being entirely in his hands. She had to own it.

  “Now get to work,” Shep said, reminding her she was running late.

  She turned to walk toward the exit nearest her bus stop when Shep called her back.

  “Jill, take a car.”

  She spun back to see a set of shiny beautiful car keys in his fingers. “For real?”

  “Absolutely. These are the keys to the black SUV closest to the door. Hit unlock when you enter the garage and you’ll see which car.”

  She snatched at the keys and only remembered to shout her thanks to the commander when she was halfway to the garage. A car. It was almost beyond belief. A wild thought struck as she realized, she could get in the car and drive anywhere she wanted to go. She could be in Colorado by tomorrow. Or New York City. She’d always wanted to see the Big Apple. But there was no need to run. She had a steady job with a decent paycheck and a man she loved who would travel to any of those cities any time she asked.

  As she climbed into the car and adjusted the seat and mirrors, she caught a glimpse of the ear–to–ear grin spreading her lips. They were lips that had lipstick and a smile. It was quite a different view than a few months ago when she’d had nothing to smile about and no money for lipstick. Yeah, it was going to be a kick–ass day.

  The day sucked. She was bombarded the second she entered work. Other employees surrounded her in the employee locker room. Almost everyone was positive and supportive about last night’s interview, but she’d preferred the anonymity.

  By lunchtime the stares had started. At first everyone wanted to extend their support about getting out of an abusive relationship. One woman share
d her own marriage horror story. But soon they’d remembered she wasn’t just a normal woman who’d escaped a mean husband. She was now a woman shacking up with a genetically enhanced soldier. She was a curiosity, an other.

  No one dared ask her about Rowan or The Program, but she walked into a conversation about her that stopped abruptly the second she was spotted. Her fellow employees hadn’t spotted her quickly enough to stop her from overhearing giggles and speculation about all the ways in which The Program soldiers might be enhanced. The sexual innuendo was unmistakable, and the temptation to join the conversation and indicate penis size with one of the omnipresent tape measures was truly tempting. She managed to resist, remembering Loren’s warning that for better or worse, she was now the public face of The Program.

  It was a daunting thought. As the newest resident of The Program, she barely had a handle on the mission and scope of the organization, yet people expected her to be an expert because she’d gone on TV to share her story. On unsteady feet, she backed away from the giggling women in the employee break room and hustled to find a private corner to text Emma with the phone Rowan had insisted she have if she were to go off campus for work.

  To:Emma

  Having panic attack at work. Everyone’s staring. How do u handle? —J

  To: Jill

  Hold your head up. No one at school knows I’m matched except 1 friend.

  To: Emma

  Shit. What do I do?

  To: Jill

  Keep calm. Excitement is fresh & new. Will settle down soon.

  To: Emma

  Crossing fingers. Can’t stand this

  To: Jill

  Sorry. Hugs

  And just like that, Jill felt better. Let people stare. At least she had people around her to stare and friends to text and send virtual hugs. It was a one–eighty from where she’d been when she lived with Jack.

  The rest of the day sucked, but every time her anxiety and self–consciousness about being stared at reared its ugly head, she reminded herself that she had Rowan and Loren and even now Commander Shepard on her side. She was no longer fighting a one–woman war. It made a huge difference.

  After what seemed like an endless day on the floor in which she was forever trying to match the wrong light bulb to the wrong lamp, it was finally time to go home. With her head bent over her phone, she texted Rowan that she was on her way as she entered the dimly lit employee lot.

  Overhead a light bulb flickered and a man’s voice called her name. Her head flew up at the familiarity of her ex–husband’s voice, but she didn’t have time to respond before he was on her, grabbing her arms and forcing her to drop her cell phone.

  “Jack,” she gasped. “Get off me. What are you doing?” She cursed her decision to not have a restraining order in place. She hadn’t seen the point. She was always on campus, and it wasn’t as if Jack would honor one anyway.

  “I’m taking you home where you belong,” he said, trying to wrestle her into submission and drag her toward his car, which she saw running a few feet away.

  “Help,” she shouted as loudly as she could, but they remained quite alone in the vast pavement parking lot.

  “Stop shouting, Jilly. Get in the car. I’m taking you home.”

  “You’re being stupid, Jack,” she said, struggling in his tight grip. “Everyone will guess you kidnapped me. Where are you going to take me? Rowan knows where you live. They’ll come find me.”

  “No,” he said, managing to drag her a foot closer to the waiting car. “We’ll go on TV again. Together. You’ll say you made a mistake, that you still love me.”

  “Not a chance.” Tears entered her eyes as he tugged on her hair hard enough to yank out a few strands. “We’re getting divorced, Jack. Get over it.” She focused on remaining limp and forcing him to shoulder all her dead weight.

  “Only if I sign the paperwork or if we live apart for six months. I got a lawyer too, Jill.” He dragged her along the concrete and she focused on literally digging her heels in.

  “You’re crazy. Rowan’s going to kill you over this.”

  “Shut up.” He shook her hard and removed one restraining hand long enough to slap her. “We’ll run. We won’t go home. Your stupid cripple won’t find us.”

  She was terrified but managed to give a laugh full of bravado. “You think he won’t find you? He’s a freaking soldier for the US military. You think you can hide from the army, Jack?”

  Maybe taunting him wasn’t such a hot idea. His anger gave him strength and he threw her hard against the car they’d now reached. Panic hit her harder than her ribs hit the car as she realized if Jack got her, she might never escape again, especially now that he knew she was capable.

  She was going to have to flee now. Summoning every bit of wisdom Xander had taught during his self–defense classes, she let Jack approach her again and slammed her heel into his instep. When he bent slightly wincing, she spun out bringing up her purse into his nose. Hard. And then she took off running knowing he was only a step behind, but as she ran she saw two security guards running through the parking lot toward her.

  “Freeze,” one yelled, and she realized they were yelling at Jack. The other caught up to her and grabbed her, putting her safely behind his back.

  Jack, realizing he was now outnumbered turned to try to escape to his car, but three police cars squealed into the lot with sirens flashing. Her idiot husband ignored the police loudspeaker’s orders to freeze and instead made a dash for his car, entering it, and tried to peel out of the parking lot.

  Jill and her rescuers jumped away from being mowed down as Jack tried to escape.

  “What an asshole,” one guard commented as they watched the police expertly surround him in their vehicles and subdue him.

  “Are you okay, Jill?” one guard asked.

  She nodded, feeling the shakes starting, but they might have been happy shakes at watching Jack being arrested in front of her eyes. Today went in the top ten happiest days in her life. “How did you know?”

  “Surveillance cameras,” the taller guard said, pointing up at the flickering light where a black bulbous camera was also mounted. “I’m sorry it took as long to get to you as we did.”

  “It’s okay. You got here in time. That’s what counts.”

  “And we have the whole thing recorded,” the shorter, stouter guard said almost gleefully. “Evidence for court.” All three watched as Jack was handcuffed and put in the back of a squad car.

  An officer came over to talk to them. They stood in the dark for a long while answering questions, and Jill agreed to press charges. One hundred percent yes. No way was she letting Jack off the hook. Finally, the officers were done with her and released her to go home. The Ikea guards, who had appointed themselves her personal bodyguards, escorted her to her car and promised to provide the same service every time she arrived or departed work. She couldn’t thank them enough.

  She climbed into the car after assuring her knights she was okay to drive and checked the cell phone she scooped up on the walk back to the car. Strange, there was no message from Rowan. Normally he responded within seconds, but he hadn’t responded to her text about leaving work. The time stamp showed it had been forty–five minutes since she sent the text. She should’ve arrived home thirty–five minutes ago. So why wasn’t he texting and calling her, panicking?

  She sent off a quick text about being delayed and started up the car. No word about the incident with Jack; she didn’t want him worrying, but she kept the phone on the passenger seat so she could see Rowan’s response the second it came it. Nothing did. Weird.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hey, Rowan, can I talk to you for a sec?”

  Rowan stepped to Ryan, a soldier he didn’t know very well, curious to see what the slightly older soldier would have to tell him. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “In private.” Ryan looked uncomfortable.

  “Okay?” He led the way to an empty office in the main building. “Will this take l
ong? Jill’s gonna be home from work soon.”

  Ryan crossed his arms and leaned on the sole desk in the room. “Shouldn’t.”

  Rowan stood facing him and waited.

  “Look, I know we don’t know each other too well, but I’d want to know, so I’m telling you.”

  “What—”

  Ryan held up a hand. “I’m getting there, but I’m a little uncomfortable. Especially since we barely know each other.”

  “Just spit it out,” Rowan said, getting annoyed and slightly worried at the same time.

  “Thea overheard something, and she told me. We’ve been keeping it to ourselves, but…after last night…I think you should know.”

  “Know what?”

  Ryan bit his lip then blurted, “Thea overheard Doctor Wise offer Adam’s sperm sample to Jill. She told her she should have your brother’s baby rather than risking a genetic defect from your kid.”

  Outwardly he showed no emotion, but inside he’d been sucker punched. “I…”

  “I’m sorry, Rowan. Not the kind of thing I would’ve thought about before, but now Thea’s pregnant. I’d want to know for sure it’s mine.”

  “What did Jill say?” he asked. “Did Thea hear that part of the conversation?”

  Now Ryan looked like he’d rather be in an Iraqi desert in full combat gear than in the room with Rowan. “Said she’d think about it,” he finally said.

  And there was the TKO. He was down for the count. The next few seconds were a blur. He thought he said thanks to Ryan for telling him or some inane sentence and then walked in a stupor back to his room where he sat on the bed staring at the wall.

  Distantly he heard his phone buzzing and saw it was a text from Jill. He ignored it and continued sitting, thinking. He didn’t know how long he sat there feeling sorry for himself. This morning, while making love to Jill, anything was possible. He was king of the world, finally getting everything he wanted in life. And now? Now he was lower than low.