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Jack held his breath as he stepped into the pitch darkness of the cabin. The soft snores of Fabrizio and the Swedes could be heard from the far wall. Other than that the cabin was silent. Jack eased the door closed behind him, blinking and waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Soon he was able to make out shadows, and padded noiselessly across the floor to his bunk. Starting to unbutton his shirt, he realized with surprise that his hands were trembling. In fact, his whole body was trembling. He was much too keyed up to sleep. He'd be lucky if he slept at all that night. Jack thoughtlessly discarded his shirt, letting it drop to the floor, and eased himself down on the mattress. He closed his eyes and imagined Rose's soft hands caressing him, her lips blindly finding his as they succumbed to the building passion between them . . . Fabrizio shifted in the bunk above, causing it to creak alarmingly. Jack opened his eyes reluctantly, his daydream brought to a screeching halt. He sighed and yanked the blankets up from the neatly made bed, sliding between them and relaxing into the pillow. Sleep. Go to sleep, he instructed himself. The sooner you go to sleep the sooner it will be tomorrow . . . and tomorrow . . . Eyes closed, he smiled to himself. Tomorrow you'll see her again. Surprisingly, with this happy thought, he began to drift off into a deep sleep, with the promise of pleasant dreams. And then, as sometimes happens, he woke himself up with a start, for his unconscious mind had remembered something. Rose. Rose was at her cabin now. She'd probably been there for twenty minutes now. Had she told them? Was her mother there? Was Cal there? Oh god, what an idiot he was. It had seemed like a reasonable plan in the gymnasium, as they embraced right before they separated. Of course, his sense of reason had been a little off. He probably would have agreed to anything. His mind had been too full of Rose to concentrate on anything else. "Okay," he'd said, blissfully ignorant. "I'll see you tomorrow." And he'd let her walk away. Sure, yeah, great idea. I'll send her right back into the arms of her creep of a fiancé. Good thinking, Dawson. Jack sat up, fully awake again, disgusted with himself. There was no telling what Cal might do to her. He prided himself on being a good judge of character, and right away he had figured out that Caledon Hockley was not someone you wanted to mess with. Not only did he look strong physically, but his eyes were dark, unreachable, and cruel. He was powerful and he knew it. Jack also knew - had known for a long time - that the first class world only gates away from where he now sat was not all that it seemed. All that glitters is not gold. The genteel society was a twisted place, a maze, where one could get lost, while others turned their backs. Cal could order Ruth away, he could get Rose alone, he could hurt her and her cries would fall on deaf ears. In "first class," women were not respected; they were used. He'd seen it time and time again, from the vantage point of the third class. A man like Cal knew he could get away with anything. He would not hesitate. Fabrizio shifted again, and Jack snapped back into himself. His breathing was shallow and a fury was building inside him. Would Rose be all right? What if she wasn't? What if she was calling his name right now? And he wasn't there. Barely realizing what he was doing, Jack stood up and rooted for his shirt in the darkness. He threw it back on and buttoned it quickly, then felt for his jacket. Fabrizio muttered something. "Go back to sleep," Jack told him, unsure of whether he was awake or not. "I'll be back." He put on his coat, and quickly left the cabin. |
