Possess (#1, The Possess Saga)

CHAPTER ONE

Escape

Tonight would be my last meal with Jackson Donnings, so I wanted everything to be perfect. Two pan-seared rib-eye steaks sat in a cast-iron skillet warming in the oven. Medium rare, just the way he liked it. A side of roasted veggies drizzled with butter had already been arranged on the white Lenox china just so, waiting for the main entrée to complete its fine presentation. I turned back to the stove and dumped sautéed onions into a copper sauce pan, stirring them into the creamy mixture as my diamond bracelet slid back and forth on my wrist. All the while repeating the recipe in my head, so as not to overcook it. Reduce heat and let simmer for three to five minutes.

As I looked up from the sauce, I caught a glimpse of myself in the stainless steel backsplash and cringed. No, now is not the time to let your emotions get in the way, Harley. I needed to focus on the task at hand. I needed to finish cooking dinner. Jackson would be home soon.

I grabbed a cloth from the kitchen sink and busied myself with wiping down the black granite countertops. Five minutes later the sauce was done and I placed the dishes on the table with wine glasses, flatware, and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. The deadbolt on the front door clicked as if on cue, and a moment later Jackson’s footsteps echoed as he walked toward the kitchen. With a deep breath, I smoothed the rich blue silk of my dress over my thighs. Be strong, you can do this.

Mmm. What is that delectable smell? Jackson turned the corner into the kitchen as his lips formed a sly grin. His dark, slicked hair almost matched his black suit. A powder blue tie brought out the steel gray in his eyes as he searched the kitchen, examining the exquisitely set table.

I cooked your favorite. I smiled.

What’s the big occasion?

I wanted to apologize for upsetting you yesterday.

The only thing I was sorry for was not doing this sooner. He stood there a moment, studying me.

Well, if dinner is as good as it looks, then all is forgiven. Jackson smirked and kissed my forehead. I winced as he tilted my face up to his and ran his fingertips over the tender bruise on my cheek.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll take you to get some new makeup. Make you look a bit more presentable. He kissed my neck, tracing his finger over the diamond teardrop pendant he had given me for my birthday.

I nodded in reply and took my seat. I watched him carefully as he removed his jacket and tie, then laid them over the back of his chair before joining me, flashing him a loving smile as I poured wine into our glasses. He winked at me, cut off a square of steak, and swirled it around in the sauce before shoving it in his mouth with his fork.

He looked from his plate to mine as his eyebrows pressed together curiously. No sauce for you?

I’m just being precautious. The wedding is right around the corner.

Ah, yes. Would be a shame if you didn’t fit into your wedding dress, now wouldn’t it?

I only nodded and took a sip of wine. I couldn’t bear to look at him any more than I needed to. I just wanted to be free from him. So far, nothing was happening. Several minutes passed and he continued enjoying his meal. Maybe I didn’t use enough. He paused for a moment, putting down his fork and narrowing his eyes at me.

Harley?

Yes, Jackson? My muscles tensed, but I offered my usual attentive smile.

Could you be a doll and get me more sauce? He licked his lips and ran a finger over the back of my hand. It’s quite good and if you’re not having any, I could use some more.

Oh yes, you could.

I stood, pushing my chair back, and walked back into the kitchen as my heels clicked against the slate tile floor. Jackson took a sip of wine and motioned for me to pour more sauce on his dish when I returned.

"Hmm. The wine can’t be that strong." He looked confused as he placed the glass down. I glanced at him as I spooned more sauce onto his plate. His palms were flat against the table. He swayed slightly as his eyes glossed over.

Are you alright, dear? I asked. He cocked his head in my direction and attempted to focus his gaze on me. I placed the saucepan down on the table and stepped back toward my chair.

I’m fine, honey. Why don’t you sit down? Indulge even. Pour yourself some sauce. You can always go see the trainer in the morning. He squinted toward me with unfocused eyes.

No thank you, darling. I answered coolly with an innocent smile. He lunged from his chair in an instant, his eyes blazing as he reached for me. He knew. I jumped out of his way, causing him to tumble against the china cabinet.

You stupid whore! He growled as he tried to pull himself up, his fingers gripping the cabinet. What the fuck did you put in my food?

I backed toward the foyer as I watched him struggle to regain his footing. The drugs were affecting him, but they hadn’t knocked him out as I had hoped. As he staggered to his feet, I turned to run. He charged at me, catching me by my waist, slamming us both against the floor at the foot of the stairs. I screamed involuntarily as the searing pain reminded me of the previous evening’s injuries.

Jackson’s fingers clawed at me, grabbing a handful of hair as he bashed my face against the floor. Another painful cry echoed as white flashes blurred my vision. His knee dug into my lower back as he pressed his weight down on me. I felt the heat from his breath as he lowered his face to mine.

"What were you going to do, Harley? Run away from the big bad wolf? Do you really think you can just leave me?" He dug his knee in harder, pain shot up my back and through my hips. There was no escape. He was too strong.

Harley, after last night I . . . I think you’d know…better. His words began to slur. I squeezed my eyes shut as tears threatened, praying the drugs would finally kick in. A few seconds later, Jackson’s body slumped over with an unceremonious thud as his head hit the floor, trapping me beneath him.

I squirmed from beneath him and gasped for air as I pushed myself off the floor. My heart pounded in my chest as I mentally ran through the rest of my plan. Kicking off my high heels, I raced up the stairs. There wasn’t much time. There was no guarantee he would stay knocked out for the amount of time I had estimated. As I flung open the bedroom door, I discarded the expensive silk dress on the floor with disgust and grabbed the packed duffel bag I had stuffed in the back of the closet behind his collection of tailored suits. I had packed enough clothes for a couple of days as well as my clothes for tonight. Shoving the suits aside, I hastily pulled on the pair of jeans, boots, and the warm blue sweater before flinging the duffel bag over my shoulder.

Almost there, Harley. I headed straight for Jackson’s office at the end of the hall. He didn't think I knew about all his little side ventures – all of which were illegal, or at the very least immoral, but I knew. I also knew he had cash stashed in several places throughout the house. I had watched him tucking some away just the other night.

I went straight to the bookshelf that covered the entire back wall. Various business journals, financial records, and dusty first editions passed down through his family stuffed the shelves. I scanned the top shelf for the large, ornately decorated Bible – a dead giveaway when I had located it earlier. Jackson and Bibles mixing? That was a joke. I snatched it from the shelf and opened it to reveal a large wad of cash, a small .380 pistol, and an extra magazine of ammo inside the hollowed interior. I inhaled a sigh of relief and tucked the cash into the bag along with the gun. Just in case.

Now it’s time to go. The rest of my plan was not nearly as laid out, but I'd run out of time to work through every last detail. If he awoke before I left, I would be lucky to see the next morning. I held onto the resolve I had earlier and tried not to think about the gravity of the situation as I tip-toed down the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible. His body still lay motionless on the floor as I stepped over him. I briefly considered the gun in my bag. It would have been so easy to finish Jackson off right there as he lay unconscious, unprotected. But I was better than that. Maybe given the chance he might have killed me tonight, but I wouldn't sink to his level.

Fuck him.

I glanced around the foyer, looking for his car keys. They weren’t hanging in their usual spot.

Crap. They’re still on him.

I knelt down and cautiously reached a hand into one pocket. Nothing. He stirred slightly and I froze, my breath catching in my throat. I stepped over his body and carefully reached into the other pocket as my fingers wrapped around his key ring. I slowly pulled them from their hiding place, squeezing them tightly to keep them from jingling.

Don’t wake up. Please don't wake up.

Standing, still holding my breath, I eased toward the front door on the heels of my boots. I didn't dare turn my back on him. Even unconscious, I didn't trust him. Jackson Donnings was a monster, a monster that would never get a chance to hurt me again.

I planned to do whatever I could to make sure he didn't find me. With one last glance at his massive form sprawled across the floor, I turned the door handle and stepped out onto the front verandah. His precious Mercedes convertible was parked in the driveway. Hurrying toward it, I pressed the remote, the doors unlocked and a few seconds later, I was pulling away from the imposing house that had slowly become my prison over the last year. I let out a breath, relief washing over me. I wasn't free yet, but I was finally getting away from Jackson. I never wanted to lay eyes on him again.

I turned the wheel and drove down the long driveway, my finger readied on the remote attached to the sun visor. A press of the button separated the wrought iron gates at the end of the drive. I turned onto the road and headed for the bus station. It had less security than an airport, they wouldn't search my bag or check my ID and I needed to be as anonymous as possible.

I drove for over forty minutes until I saw the sign for the bus station. A few blocks away, I turned the Mercedes down a darkened street. Not the best of neighborhoods, but perfect for my purpose. I parked the car on the street and put down the top before shutting off the engine. With a deep breath I glanced at myself in the mirror. Jackson had left a fresh cut on my bruised cheek and a small trickle of dried blood under one nostril. I wiped the blood away with my sleeve and combed my hair to cover the cut on my face before tugging off the diamond earrings, necklace, and bracelet. Each a gift from Jackson. Each a reminder I didn’t want of him and the past year. I could pawn them, but Jackson didn’t give run of the mill jewelry. If I pawned them, he would likely be able to track them down – which meant tracking me down. I wouldn’t take that chance. I deposited the jewelry in the center console, in clear view, and grabbed my bag from the passenger seat as I climbed out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition.

Despite my injuries, I reached the bus station ten minutes later. I approached the ticket counter and bought two tickets – one heading for Minnesota, the other for Maine. Just in case he knew anyone here, I needed to keep things confusing. Both buses left within minutes of each other and since I personally preferred to head toward the east coast, I boarded the second bus as they made last calls for passengers.

I eased into a window seat toward the back of the bus and placed my bag in the empty spot beside me. Despite the pain circulating through my body in dull throbs, I was able to get comfortable. My eyes quickly grew heavy and my breathing slowed. I couldn’t remember the last time I'd slept peacefully, but with the distance between Jackson and me growing by the minute, the adrenaline that had pumped through my veins dissipated. I yawned, placed a hand over my bag, and finally let myself give in to sleep. I did it. I escaped.

CHAPTER TWO

New in Town

By the time I came to, it was some time in the early evening and the bus was rolling into another station. I rubbed my eyes and stretched as I peered out of the window. The sign over the bus station read Midtown Central. I glanced at the parked cars noticing the Rhode Island tags. Hmm, seems as good as any other place. It was a good distance away from Jackson, at least. Besides, I was feeling cramped from sleeping on the bus.

The bus pulled to a stop. I grabbed my duffel bag, headed to the front, and climbed off. The air was crisp and cool, with the smell of coming winter. For now, it seemed that Midtown would be a good place to start over. Somewhere Jackson would not be likely to look.

As I stepped onto the platform, a dense crowd of college students unloaded from another bus. They were laughing and carrying on, not a care in the world. Must be nice.

Pushing past the college kids, I headed toward the main downtown strip. I had a good estimate of the amount of money I had grabbed and it would be more than enough to hole myself up at a hotel for a couple of nights until I figured out my next steps. A few blocks away I found one wedged between two storefronts.

Welcome to Admiral Hotel, how can I help you? An overly cheerful blonde concierge greeted me as I walked toward the front desk.

I need a room for the night.

Great! We can certainly accommodate you! Is there anything special you require during your stay? She beamed, two large brown eyes blinking up at me from her computer.

Nope, just a bed. I answered with a tired smile.

Oh, well...I have a room on the fifth floor for $150 a night. Does that work?

Sounds good to me. I only have cash, but I can put down a deposit for the night.

That should be fine. Can I have your name, miss?

Um, Faye. Faye Martin. I quickly answered with my middle name. Jackson had never bothered knowing it and it was a lot less conspicuous than Harley.

Perfect, Ms. Martin. She flashed me a friendly grin as she typed on her computer. I’ve given you room 506. Did you need any baggage carried up to your room?

Nope, I’m good. I took the key card from her perky little hand and adjusted the bag on my shoulder before turning for the elevators. After a couple of steps, I spun back toward her.

Is there a place nearby where I can get a drink and something good to eat? After such an eventful forty-eight hours, I could use a drink to unwind a little. She nodded then grabbed a notepad and scribbled directions before handing me the paper.

Finley’s Pub is a good place to get some great local fare, and they have strong drinks. She winked. Obviously, she knew from experience.

*****

I dropped my bag off in my room, did a quick assessment in the mirror, ensuring my hair still covered my injured cheek, and made my way back to the hotel lobby. I was still wearing the same outfit I had left Louisiana in and I looked a bit disheveled from the bus ride, but I was hungry and I needed to stretch my legs. This far away, I doubted I needed to be on the lookout around any corner, and I knew from experience a pub was something Jackson wouldn’t be caught dead in. That fact alone gave me even more reason to go.

I followed blondie's directions and ten minutes later I spotted a pub sitting on the corner at the edge of downtown. A wooden sign with a red, white, and blue coat of arms painted on it hung above the front door. Scrolling filigree wrapped around a knight's helmet at the top. On a banner below the filigree there were two red flowers, two swords facing each other, and what looked to be two back-to-back Eagles. At the very bottom of the sign, in blue letters, was Finley's. I smiled a little as I admired it. I'd never actually visited a real pub before. There weren’t any near my hometown, just dive bars and the like. I was a few feet from the door when it flung open and a drunken frat boy type came barreling towards me before I could dodge him. I tumbled backwards over the curb as I lost my balance and landed flat on my ass in the street. The idiot grumbled, stumbling away.

Oh Christ, I'm sorry. I didn't see ya there, miss. A low gravelly voice with an Irish brogue rumbled above me. I looked up to see a masculine hand outstretched in front of me. I grabbed it as he pulled me up.

It's fine, I wasn't really paying attention. I laughed as I pushed my mass of black wavy hair out of my face. Two deep-set cobalt eyes met mine as I steadied myself. They studied me for a moment with an odd look of recognition before darting to the bruise on my cheek. All too conscious of it, I turned my head and let my hair fall back to cover it.

I'll tell ya what, ta make up for throwin’ a drunk at ya, why don't ya go inside and grab yerself a pint on me. He nodded towards the door as he rubbed an angular jawline covered in light stubble. As handsome as this guy was, I didn't feel like being hit on in my current state.

No, that's fine, I can pay for my own drink. I tried to decline but he waved his hand in dismissal of the thought before pushing back a few stray tawny-colored curls from his face.

It's my pub, I insist. He offered a benign smile, go ta the redhead at the bar and let her know Nolan sent ya over.

Oh, I blinked at him. He looked rather young to be the owner, late twenties at the oldest. Um, thanks.

I nodded politely and headed inside. As I neared the bar, I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see that same familiar yet faraway look in his eyes as he watched me. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he quickly looked away then disappeared into the crowd toward the back of the pub. What the hell was that about?

New in town? The redhead asked as I pulled myself up onto a barstool.

By less than an hour. I answered, Nolan told me to come see you.

I saw you two chatting, she grinned. What kind of drink do you want?

I eyed the wall that held an expansive list of drinks and beers. Um…

"Beer?

Sure. I replied.

Which one?

I have no idea. I didn’t know they made so many. I felt a little embarrassed to admit my knowledge of beer was limited to the few cheap brands you found at the local convenience store.

Well then, try this one and see if you like it. She filled a glass with an amber-colored beer and slid it over to me. My name’s Aggie, by the way.

Harley, I put my hand out and shook hers.

Like the motorcycle?

Yep. I was used to being asked that question any time I met someone new. She smirked, seeming pleased.

That sounds more bad-ass than Aggie. It’s actually Agatha, after my late grandmother. But don’t you dare call me that. Just Aggie. She narrowed her eyes in a mock serious manner.

Got it. Mmm, this is pretty good. I looked down at the glass appreciatively then back to her.

Did you need anything else?

Actually, where’s a food menu? I’m a bit hungry.

What are you in the mood for? I can have the cook toss a burger and fries on for you.

That sounds amazing, actually. My eyes grew wide and I licked my lips, salivating a little at the thought. Aggie smirked then yelled back into the kitchen. Ten minutes later, a heaping monster of a burger sat in front of me along with a basket of fries. Aggie watched with wonder as I took my first bite.

Ohhhh. Mmmm, this is delicious.

Aggie nodded knowingly. Good stuff, eh?

So far, I definitely liked Midtown. I had barely been in town an hour and already gotten a free drink and met someone I could see myself being friends with. Aggie and I chatted for a good while after I had finished my food. She told me about the heavy Irish population in Midtown and suggested some points of interest to check out, but when a large bachelorette party showed up, she had to excuse herself to deal with them, so I decided it was time to head back to the hotel.

*****

It was a surreal feeling waking up completely relaxed. I hadn’t slept well in a long time. The tight knots in my chest I had grown accustomed to waking up with were nowhere to be felt. They had been commonplace in my life with Jackson. I never knew which days would be good days and which ones I would end paying dearly for.

The realization of my freedom spread a sense of euphoria through me as I lay there in the soft cotton sheets with my head resting on a large plush pillow. I wanted to remain in this cushy cocoon of a bed the entire day but I knew even with the amount of cash I had managed to take from Jackson, I needed to get settled on my own two feet. With a defeated sigh and one long stretch, I willed myself out of bed. I needed to get my butt in gear.

First though, I desperately needed a shower. I fell asleep when I arrived back from the pub and never got a chance to wash the bus stink off of me. As comfortable as that bed was, I wanted to see just how amazing the shower was in this hotel room. It didn’t let me down. When I slid the frosted glass door back, two large chrome showerheads greeted me. I turned on the shower and disrobed, eagerly stepping into the spray of warm water, sighing happily as I let it run through my hair and over my bare skin. I was sure this was as close to heaven as I could get.

I opened the sample bottle of shampoo and squeezed the contents into my palm. A deliciously sweet scent filled the room as I worked it into a rich lather through my hair. It wasn’t as if I didn’t have these same luxuries when I was with Jackson, but being free from him made them much more pleasurable.

I let myself linger under the soothing stream for another minute before begrudgingly turning off the water and sliding the glass door open. Staring back at me from the mirror were the various purpling and yellowing bruises that covered my thighs, my arms, my hips...my whole body. Various cuts, puffy and pink with scabs, each forced my last night with Jackson into the forefront of my mind. I hastily pulled a towel from the rack and wrapped it around myself then snatched the shopping bag from the nightstand by the bed. I’d stopped at the drug store on the way back from Finley's Pub and grabbed a few necessities. I returned to the bathroom mirror and dumped the contents of the bag onto the counter.

I couldn’t erase that night, but at least for now I could camouflage the evidence. Dab away at the marks he left, hide them under a false facade of concealer and foundation in much the same way I tried to bury the