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“Gotcha covered, man.”
Jules and I had said our goodbyes to Stryker this afternoon, since he had to head back to Raleigh. It’s late now, and I’m making sure the cabin is locked up and secure. The last few nights have been uneventful, thank God. The three of us have spent quite a bit of time together over these past few days. I wanted to keep Stryker here long enough to ensure she was past the dangers and complications from her head injury. It’s been nice and peaceful, and hopefully she’s learning to trust me more and more with each passing day. I feel as if she’s even formed a brotherly bond with Stryker. He’s so easygoing and laid back, and he can get along with his worst enemy, so it’s hard not to like him.
Jules spent most of her time curled up on the sofa, drifting between sleep and watching old movies, while Stryker and I took care of her. Between Stryker and me, we must have over five hundred DVDs, from every genre imaginable. I’ve been rubbing the special cream on her back three times a day, and finally the abrasions are damn near gone, but bruising has transpired in their wake, and they’re scattered all over her backside.
Usually when Jules drifted off during the daytime, it was the perfect opportunity for us to slink away to the upstairs computer room. There are three bedrooms upstairs, but Stryker and I turned one of them into a fully-equipped reconnaissance room. We use a numbered keypad to lock the door, keeping it secure around the clock.
I’ve been trying to investigate Jules and everything else that pertains to her every free chance I get. I’m trying to shed some light on why Nick specifically chose her. Gaining access to her personal information has been easy as hell, but I come up empty-handed every damn time I search for information about anyone affiliated with her, including her father. The man must do everything with paper and pencil, because there is no pertinent information, and I have no leads to follow. Unfortunately, the only thing the computer has been good for is trying to learn about this gluten-free shit. It’s like studying Japanese. It’s a small price to pay, however, because every minute she’s with me is a treasure, and hopefully a step closer to making us a permanent reality.
I can almost smell her strawberry shampoo right now, reminding me of a few days ago when she allowed me to give her a bath. I came so close to kissing her at one point, and it took everything in me to hold back. I’d be a real dick if I took advantage of her in this state. Not to mention, the Blyss is still running rampant through her system, and will continue to flow through her veins for at least another week or so until Grant and I can wean her off.
Damn, I hate more than anything I have to continually lie to her at every turn, but I’ve already tangled myself into a serious web of lies since the hospital, and there’s no going back. I had to do and say whatever it took to get her out of there safely, and make it somewhere else in one piece.
I swore I would never let myself fall in love again, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t barreling down a hill in a go-kart without any brakes. I never thought I’d put my heart on the line again, taking not only a colossal risk with my feelings, but with my life and future as well. Looking back at what I’ve done…I shake my head at myself. I can never go back now. I’ve screwed myself over, all in the name of something akin to love. I’ve set fire to every fucking bridge I’ve ever crossed, and I don’t want to second guess myself about what the hell I’m doing.
I’ve always been able to problem solve and formulate plans strategically and intellectually on the fly, and this is the first time in my life I’m left wondering about my method of actions. I know I’m in too deep to even think about backing out now, and I knew the moment I saw her I wouldn’t be able to get her out of my mind anyway. No matter how hard I tried to dismiss thoughts of her, only minutes would pass before she barreled her way back into my brain.
When I gave her the medallion, I was sweatin’ it out, praying like hell it didn’t spark any memories for her. If it did, I at least had Stryker here to back me up. We’re so far in the woods she wouldn’t have known which way to turn if she did decide to run. Being stuck here, she’d at least have to listen to me. Even if she did run, she wouldn’t be able to get very far, because her medallion is a fake. When I took her medallion at the facility, I had it replicated. A trusted friend of mine reproduced the family heirloom and placed a tracker on the inside. It’s great to know people on the shady side of life, because not only is it a tracker, but within a certain range of distance, I can use it as a listening device, a bug so to speak.
