Duskwood: Love's Beginning

18 - Jake

When I was finally in a secure place again, I logged in to the chat. I forced myself to scan through the data first before I contacted Jayna. Did I imagine it, or was her greeting more subdued?

Eventually, I found out why. Thomas put the ridiculous idea in her head that Hannah and I had been lovers. I snorted. What nonsense! Of course, though, Jayna was exploring every possible lead. I dared to hope that her heart was also involved in this matter. I felt lighter when I denied the possibility of the relationship and she said she was glad to read it. I then decided to make light of it further by mentioning that her name also begins with J.

Of course, I knew Jayna's last name, and it did not start with H. So I had never suspected her as the person who gifted the bracelet to Hannah.

I wished that when she had asked me about the bracelet I could have looked into her eyes so she could see the truth of my feelings. I would have held her to reassure her, and kissed all of her doubts away. The ache in my chest grew again as I felt my heart stretching across the miles to reach for hers.

When I fled Los Angeles, I decided to make my way up to Oregon. I knew it was a risk, considering the geographical proximity to the case. But I had wanted–no, needed, to be physically closer to Jayna. My ultimate goal was to see her, if only for a moment. That would have to be enough.

I had stayed in Sacramento for a night, and now I was in Redding. My stay here would also be fleeting, as my drive to be near her grew stronger and stronger.

I was so proud of my Jayna. She had done so much without me. And I couldn't help but chuckle at her joke about learning from the best (herself). It was ridiculous and distracting how happy she made me.

When I told her that she was the only one to make me laugh, she responded, "Is it weird that I like that?"

I smiled again at her candor. We had discussed all the necessary topics, but I didn't want to go. I needed sleep, badly. But I wanted to be with her just a little longer.

My cheeks heated. I felt like an awkward teenager. In many ways that were the extent of my experience with women, and I guess I was reverting further into that period of my life when in the presence of this fascinating woman.

How did she sense it? Jayna was more in tune with my feelings than anyone else ever had been. In some ways, she knew me better than I knew myself. This connection was a treasure that I must keep close.

I asked her how her day was, and whether it being busy was good or bad. She surprised me so much with her answer that I sounded like her therapist, and I paused for a moment. This was a detail I had not discovered in my cursory search. I wanted to ask her more–was she OK? How could I help her? Had...had she started therapy because of me bringing her into the investigation?

I realized too much time had passed, and that I needed to say something. I decided not to pry.

Despite my awkwardness, she put me at ease by guiding the conversation toward topics that I was familiar and comfortable with. She asked what I did all day, and I told her about how the FBI knew my location within a 60-mile radius. I smirked when she threw my question back at me: "Is that good or bad?" I let it pass and answered the question.

I did not want her to worry about me. But I also felt good about her worry; it was a reminder that she cared for me. I collected those reminders like keepsakes and held them close to my heart.

I would not let them find me, because it would mean years or decades in prison. They might not ever let me out. Or, they might force me to work for them forever, which would effectively be a prison. Either way, I would be unable to have access to Jayna, and that was unacceptable.