Jack never knew what hit him. There was a quick burst of pain and then nothing. He crumpled and fell to the ground, landing with a soft thump. Burns stood over him, cane in hand, poised to strike again if necessary. But Jack didn't move. Burns wasn't even sure if he was still breathing. He didn't bother to find out. He tossed the cane into the lake and ran. He didn't stop until he was five blocks away from the park. He staggered to a halt; his knees buckling, he grabbed the side of the nearest building to steady himself. What had he just done?
"You did what you were told to do," he murmured. "What you had to do. Why do you care what happens to him? He wasn't anyone to you." He took a deep breath. "Some people matter and some people don't." But that didn't make the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach go away.
*****
Rose balled her hands into fists. Eyes blazing, she spun around. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. "How dare you—"
Cal grabbed her by the shoulders. "Oh, no, Sweetpea, how dare you?" He spoke softly; his voice was like razor-edged silk.
She winced as his fingers dug into her skin. Get away from him! But how? She tried to speak, but nothing came out. Her throat tightened. How had he found them? We were so careful! Her teeth clicked together as he roughly pulled her forward.
"You look at me when I'm talking to you!"
She tried to shove him away, but she might as well have been trying to tip over a tree. Her mind raced. Where was Jack? Her eyes widened; a horrified gasp escaped her mouth. "You—Jack!" she screamed. She twisted away from Cal, hoping he would lose his grip. "Jack!"
The sound of the slap echoed across the silent park.
*****
Jack's eyes fluttered. "Rose?" he murmured. He reached out, expecting to feel her next to him, but all he felt was soft grass sliding through his fingers. "Rose?" He opened his eyes. The sky was orange and pink above him. "What—when did—" He started to sit up.
A hand landed on his shoulder. "Don't!" He turned his head and found himself staring into Matilda's face. "Don't," she repeated, calmly this time. "It will hurt no matter what you do, but it will hurt even more if you jump back up." He didn't answer. He just let her slowly ease him into a sitting position.
"What happened?" he asked.
"I don't know. You were like this when I found you." She bit her lip. "You don't remember anything, do you?"
"I remember being with Rose on the other side of the hill, and then there was this scream…oh, shit!" He jumped to his feet, ignoring the pain that blossomed in the back of his head. "Rose!" he yelled, starting up the hill. "Rose!"
Matilda followed. "Wait!" But he didn't seem to hear her. He broke into a run as he reached the top of the hill. She was breathing heavily when she finally caught up with him. Clutching her sides, she asked, "Why did you—"
"She isn't here!" He turned to face her. "You didn't see her, did you?"
Matilda shook her head. "I just found you lying there. You looked like someone had hit you." She covered her mouth with her hands. "Did someone—"
"They did." His mouth thinned. "That son of a bitch."
"Who? What's going on? Are you all right—"
"Where are the good hotels?"
She stared at him. "What?"
"The good hotels. You know, the best places. Where are they?"
*****
Rose dug her heels into the carpet. "No!" She struggled to break free of Cal's grip. With an irritated grunt, he shoved her back. She teetered on her heels for a moment, but didn't fall. "He'll find me," she said.
Cal chuckled as he locked the door. "I wouldn't be too sure of that." Rose's blood ran cold. Cal smiled. "What's wrong, Sweetpea? You didn't think I would overlook a detail as important as that, did you?" She jerked away as he reached out to touch her face. His smile hardened. He grabbed her chin. "Don't you even think about seeing that gutter rat again." He brought his face close to hers. "You are mine. Do you hear me? Mine!"
Her nose wrinkled in disgust. The urge to spit in his face was almost overwhelming. "I've never been yours," she said. "And I never will be. Jack—" His hand smashed into her cheekbone. She moaned quietly. Blood trickled down her face. "You can't change that I'm his wife," she said. "No amount of money can change the fact that I married him instead of you!"
He tilted her head back. "Oh, my naïve little Rose," he said, shaking his head. "There is nothing money can't do." He kissed her, a harsh, forceful kiss. She screamed silently. She tried to shove him away, but he grabbed her wrists. "You would let him kiss you." She tried desperately to free herself from his grip; the more she struggled, the tighter he squeezed her wrists. "There isn't much you wouldn't let him do, is there?" he asked, his voice thick with disgust. "Filthy whore to the filthy rat."
"I'd rather be his whore than your wife!" She yelped as he slapped her.
"How dare you!" he hissed. "After everything I've given you—everything I offered you! I would have made you a queen!" He pushed her onto the bed. Unbuttoning his pants, he said, "But if a whore is what you want to be…"
Rose jumped up, but he shoved her back down. She kicked wildly. "No!" He pinned her down.
Her dress was pushed up around her hips; his knees were between her thighs. "Don't," she said softly. "Cal, please."
He kissed her. She gagged as he shoved his tongue into her mouth. It felt foreign, wrong, nothing like the way Jack kissed her. Jack's lips fit hers perfectly, as though they had been made to kiss only her. She squirmed. Unfortunately, that just excited him more. With a groan, he pressed himself against her. A wave of nausea washed over her. It felt like a spear was being pushed between her legs. Jack, where are you?
She screamed as he shoved himself into her. He didn't seem to notice. He threw his head back and let out a low moan. Finally.
She squeezed her eyes closed. Jack. Jack. Jack.