Marked. Part I: The missing Link (24 page)

Chapter 27

6:30am

We don't arrive at the small, private airport on time because Jay has the taxi driver stop at Target. He bought us each a pay-as-you-go phone, and he got a San Francisco Giants baseball cap.

“It's smaller than I thought it would be,” I say once inside. The small aircraft only has four over sized leather seats, two on each side, facing each other with a table in the middle. Behind the chairs is a private swinging door for the flight attendants.

Jay makes a “humph” sound, “Sorry the private jet I rented isn't good enough for you.”

I whip around and am relieved to see the playful twinkle in his eye. For a second I thought I had insulted his ego – you never know with men.

“
I'm not complaining, I just hope size doesn’t matter and it will still deliver a full VIP treatment.”

Jay takes a glass of champagne that a stewardess brought over, “Here, drink this. Size won't matter as much and you'll have the ride of your life.”

“Is that a guarantee?” I flirt back, taking a sip of champagne.

The stewardess interrupts us to ask if we are ready to take off, and I try not to pout that our fun little moment together is ruined. I like playful Jay.

“Yeah, give us 15 minutes. I need to use the Internet.”

“
I'll let the Captain know.”

“
Can I get you more champagne Mrs. Lincoln?”

I hate the way I blush at her misunderstanding, but I don't correct her, “Yes, please.”

Jay has already taken a seat and I choose the one across from him, wanting to clearly see his face. He has the table out between us and he is taking our phones out of the packages and turning on his laptop. I watch him set the phones up. He slides one across the table to me.

“
My number is in it. Keep it with you at all times. If for whatever reason we get separated, don't call until you know you are out of harm's way, and always have the gun I gave you.”

“
Yes, boss.” I put the phone into my pocket, “I'd say it's kinda handy having one of these.”

Jay rolls his eyes and holds up a finger, “One good example, but for the first time I'm glad they exist.”

He puts away his laptop and buckles for take-off.

As the plane ascends, I observe Jay and the white knuckle, iron grip he has over the arm rest, eyes tightly closed together, every wrinkle on his forehead exposed.

“Are you afraid of flying?” I'm astounded, I didn't think Jay had a fear of anything. He doesn't respond, but I watch all the color drain from his skin as the plane climbs higher. It's hard to hold back the huge smile that wants to come out, but I don't want Jay seeing me finding humor over this. I pucker my lips in and suppress any urges to make some sort of wisecrack.

“
Stop it, I feel you wanting to smile,” he says, his voice a little shaky and childlike.

“
It surprises me that you have any fears.”

“
Let's keep this between us, okay?”

“
We wouldn't want to ruin your reputation,” I tease and Jay scowls at me, eyes still clenched tightly together. “Your Achilles Heel is safe with me.”

This causes Jay to laugh, “I'm not even going to get into the irony of that last remark.”

The captain announces that we are free to roam.

Jay lets out the the biggest puff of air I have ever heard or felt – my hair feels windblown from it.

“So if we start to crash, I'm guessing it's my job to save us?”

“
Yup.”

The stewardess comes over with another glass of champagne for me. I could get used to this.

“You ever play cards, Jay?”

“
What, like poker? What guy hasn't?”

I gesture for the attendant, “Are there any cards on board?”

She promptly returns with two decks.

I pull them out and shuffle, “No, not poker. I suck at almost any game a casino has to offer. I was meaning more like Kings Corner or Spite and Malice?”

This causes Jay to laugh again, “Figures.”

“
What's that supposed to mean?”

“
It figures you'd like playing some sweet, cute little game.”

My mouth drops open and then I snap it shut. I try to muster up my best poker face, “I take it you've never played Spite and Malice before?”

Jay scratches his scruff, “Can't say that I have.”

“
Well, where poker may be a game of bluffing and skill, this one, well...the name speaks for itself.”

I can tell by his expression he still thinks we are about to play a game that resembles Sorry or another cheesy but entertaining family game. Maybe it is, but he's never played an Evans before, and we play dirty.

10:36am

We are still playing cards and Jay is really getting into it. It's taking everything I have not to jump over the table and clobber him; he's too adorable when he lets his walls down.

As we descend I kick Jay's foot and he can barely open an eye at me.

“Put your legs all the way out.” I love that he does what I ask without hesitation. His long legs make it easy for me to tangle ours together, “It will be okay, Jay. We're in this together.”

I didn't think my comment would affect him, but I can feel his body somewhat ease back. Next time I'll make sure we have adjoining seats so I can cling to him more and give him reassuring rubs.

My stomach drops. There most likely won't be a next time.

Dammit, now I'm depressed. How do I keep letting Jay weave himself in? I really suck at this whole wall building thing.

“Hey, Jay?”

He grunts and it seems like it's hard for him to manage that. I clamp a hand over my mouth to hold in a giggle.

“How do you not let a person affect you?”

“
It's easy when you don't like people,” his mouth is fastened together and it's hard to understand, but once I figure it out I laugh.

“
Surely you've come across a few you do? Like Malik, for example. How do you keep from getting attached?”

“
I don't know, I just do. I've been doing it since I was a kid. It's not something I have to think about.”

“
Oh,” I chew on my lip, contemplating if I want to keep going. Fuck it, I want to hear what he has to say, “What about with me, how do you stay closed off?”

The plane jolts as it hits the landing strip and Jay curses, looking like he might lose his breakfast.

My favorite thing about private jets is the minute the plane stops we are free to leave, luggage in hand, and a taxi is waiting for us close by. Flying will never be the same again.

Before getting in the cab, Jay pulls out the Giants baseball hat and sunglasses. He takes hold of my hair, stuffing it all inside the hat, and puts the sunglasses on me.

“I don't want anyone knowing what you look like. The only time you are allowed to be without it is inside the hotel room. Got it?”

“
Yup,” I answer before ducking into the taxi.

Jay tells the driver to take us to the Hyatt Regency in the Embarcadero Center. I stare out the window, taking in as many of the sights as I can.

Jay leans over to whisper in my ear, “To answer your question from before – staying closed off from you is impossible. Having to walk away from you ripped my fucking heart out.”

Oh my.
I wish I had the perfect response to tell him, but words fail me. All I seem capable of is watching the city go by and feeling overwhelmed with how to absorb his remark. From the day I met him our relationship has been a roller coaster that has turned my world upside down. It launched full speed into steep uphills and even more intense downward descents, full of loops, twists, and turns that have left my head spinning. I'm in a constant state of adrenaline, excitement, and fear. It leaves me wondering if this ride will ever end, or if I even want it to.

At check-in, the front desk calls me Mrs. Lincoln and I smile all the way to our room, where we drop off our stuff. Jay goes into the hall to make a private phone call. And yes, I press my ear to the door like an immature teenager trying to hear the latest gossip. Unfortunately, I can barely make out what he's saying.

The door swings open and I land in Jay's arms.

“
Remind me to teach you how to be a better spy,” he chuckles, hoisting me back up. “You hungry?”

“
For hotel food or San Francisco food?”

“
We're
in
San Francisco, they're the same thing.”

“
No they're not.”

“
I'm guessing you want San Francisco food?”

“
My husband knows me so well,” I mean it as a joke but it falters as I watch Jay jerk back in alarm.

“
Chill.” Man, I'm really bad at banter. “I was only teasing because of how everyone keeps calling me Mrs. Lincoln.”

Jay swipes his head a few times and brushes past me, “It was easier to give us the same last name.”

Ouch, he didn't have to sound so irritated by it. I seriously only meant it as a joke. Jay's mood swings are incredibly frustrating. He continually makes me second guess his feelings for me. It leaves me wondering if it's because he hasn't figured it out for himself yet.

Jay takes off his shirt and throws it at me, “Put this on.”

I'm momentarily immobile as I take in the sight of Jay's glorious, muscular, chest and abs. Images of what it's like to touch and taste him surface to the front of my mind.

Dammit.

I don't need those kind of thoughts right now.

He pulls another shirt out of his bag and puts it on, followed by his dark olive cargo jacket that nicely hides his weapons.

“Why am I wearing this?” I ask.

“
To hide your body. A person's frame can be as easy to remember as a face.”

I take off my hat and shades, placing them on a bed. I pull off my shirt and put on Jay's, inhaling his scent as the material cascades down. It causes an ache in my chest from missing the smell of being cuddled in his arms.

“Why do you get a clean shirt, and I have to wear one you already wore?” I look down at how I swim in the shirt, then back at Jay who is staring at me. His eyes are blazing in a familiar heat and a half smile tugs at my mouth, glad that he's also affected by seeing me topless. I only wish I was braless to really spice things up. “This isn't going to work, Jay. Your shirt is way too big on me.”

He's still staring at me, “Jay?”

He averts his eyes, clearing his throat, “Yeah, I guess we'll have to pick something up for you.”
He grabs the keycards, “Lets go get some lunch and I'll fill you in on what's going to happen today.”

“
You mean I get to know?”

“
A few details, yeah.” He hands me back the hat and shades, “Let's go, I'm starving.”

We take a cab to Fisherman's Wharf and Jay buys me a cheesy tourist sweatshirt from a street vendor. It's a pale pink large (I'm usually a small), with a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge and “I left my heart in San Francisco” written in cursive across it. Needless to say, I've never looked hotter.

“It's beautiful here,” I gush, removing my sunglasses and placing them next to Jay's on the table. I stare out the window of Scoma's where we stopped for lunch. A light drizzle has started and fog is still hovering over the bay. I already love it here and can't wait to return to really take in all this city has to offer.

“
It's one of my favorite cities in the US.”

“
Have you come here often?”

“
When I was a teenager I lived here for about six months, and I've been back a few times after that.”

“
Did you like always having to change locations growing up?”

“
Never bothered me. I never went to school so I didn't have to worry about making friends. I've been all over the world and almost every major city this country has to offer, and I'm only twenty-five.”

“
Why'd you pick Mesa this time?”

“
The race track. Not all tracks allow drifting because of the beating the road takes. The owner of that place likes what we do and wants to get a buzz going. He's hoping not to have to sell it and make it into a popular place for drifters to come and race. When I heard about it, I knew that was the next place I had to go live. Being able to drift is one of the things I miss most when I'm in a new place.”

“
Can't you find curvy roads to do it on?”

“
Sure, but not all places have anything worth driving. Some places have underground racing, but I can't stand that shit. It's too 'my penis is bigger than yours' crap.”