Bewitching Jolene (Book 3) Jacobs Broken Mercenaries

chapter 8

Jolene

He’s not human, that’s for sure. No one can move like that, as fast as the speed of light. Not to mention his color-shifting eyes and those horns. Now that I’ve gotten a closer look, there’s no way they’re fake.

Outside, I may seem perfectly fine, but I’m hanging on by a thread. It’s too much! The snake-headed things, the pictures in the book, my loss of magic, and now being taken away from my life by a horned guy with super strength and speed far beyond a human's capabilities. I feel like I’m going crazy or this is all a really vivid nightmare.

Checking the tub for dead bodies. I breathe a sigh of relief to find it empty. The motel is depressing. It’s the size of a cave, and the bed probably has more miles per hour than a taxi. I should have picked the floor. It looks cleaner. Speaking of cleanliness, I glimpse myself in the mirror and cringe. My hair is matted with a vile smelling reptile goop. The new fine knit joggers and jersey I’ve only worn once are now ruined. Both knees are torn, and my collar is ripped. Not to mention the smell. My face is no better. By tomorrow I’ll have a bruise the size of an apple on my left cheek. It’s already swelling, the red turning purple. Twisting the taps, I grab the hem of my shirt and stop to double-check the lock. It feels odd, stripping with a strange man on the other side of the door. Especially a wildly attractive one, minus the horns, of course. When he rudely smacked my ass, shocking me into submission. I noticed the black curving cylinders and had a powerful urge to touch them. That’s me, ever the curious, no matter the situation. I wonder if they’re hot or cold? Smooth or rough? Would he even feel me touching them? Shaking my head at the absurdity of my wondering thoughts. I try to focus on getting out of here.

Using the entire two bottles of mini shampoo, I scrub my hair until it’s a tangled mess. Thankfully, the smell is gone. I wish I could scrub the memories away just as easily. This whole situation is crazy. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it, let alone planning my escape. For tonight, I’m giving up any attempts and aiming for sleep.

When I step out of the shower, I can hear him talking on the phone but can’t make out the words. Jesus, it’s hot in here. My skin is on fire. I wipe the fog from the mirror to finger comb my hair and halt when I see my reflection. My skin is red! So red it’s purple. Ohmygod! Ohmygod!

“Are you okay in there?”

Squeezing my eyes tight, I count to ten, ignoring Elliot entirely.

When I open my eyes to find them glowing, I scream at the sight. I look down and realize my fingers are on fire, flames bursting from the tips. Another scream tears from my throat, the edges of my vision turning black…

Something warm and big is at my back. I slowly turn toward it, still half asleep.

“Ohmygod!”

Scrambling back, I fall off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Good morning. You need to relax before you burn the building down.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Everything comes rushing back to me, and I look down at my hands to find them normal. My head swivels to the bathroom, and my jaw drops open. The door is in pieces. I look back to Elliot. He shrugs nonchalantly.

“You were screaming, and the door was locked.”

When did my life get so complicated? Elliott climbs out of bed in his boxers, momentarily rendering me speechless. Wowsers! That’s somebody he’s got there. He’s a walking, talking work of art. More like a weapon with those guns. Every perfectly rounded muscle stretches taut as he extends his body toward the ceiling.

“Get dressed. We have a lot to do today.”

Embarrassingly wiping at my drool, I manage to compose myself. That’s when I realize I’m in my white cotton bra and panties. Forgetting everything else, my anger sparks at the situation. In the last twenty-four hours I’ve been stalked, threatened, attacked, and now taken advantage of. I can’t even dwell on what happened in the bathroom last night. If I do, then I’d have to accept the possibility I’ve contracted something from those reptile things, and I’m not going there. Plus, the fact he’s seen me in so little and we were just spooning has me overwhelmed with humiliation. All of my anger comes pouring out into the next six words.