My mood drops right after seeing that photo in the papers. I couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of my shift either. All the calm I was enjoying for the last two days is gone and the anger is here in full force. I didn't get to kill him and the cops will be coming to ask questions anyway. All because of Lana. 

Not that I regret the weekend I had. It was great, but I really wanted this kill to be mine. And I gave it up. Damn! I would've asked him some questions, take my sweet time. I know I would've thoroughly enjoyed. I should have taken him when I saw him on Friday. Why do I always listen to Wade anyway? The times when he held all the answers for me are long gone. Sure, after his time in the military, he taught me some useful stuff again, but that doesn't mean he knows everything better. I toss away the small part in my hand in frustration.

Several heads turn in my direction. "Everything okay, Jackson?" Joe, being the closest to me, asks.

I grunt, nodding my head, then checking the time. Only two hours left 'til the end of my shift. I can't wait to get out of here. Everyone's getting on my nerves more than usual and today's heat doesn't help any. I see Wade giving me a look, but he says nothing.

"Is she giving you trouble?" Joe continues with the questions. My head snaps to him. What? How the hell does he know? He motions to the car in front of me. Oh, right!

I shake my head. "Almost finished with this one."

"When you are, go home! Cool off or sleep off whatever this is. Either way, I don't want to see this shit here tomorrow."

Fine by me, I can't wait to get out of here. "You're the boss." I wipe the sweat off my face and go back to this damn thing to finish as soon as possible.

_________________________________________________________________________

When I do finally get home, Lana's car is already there. I walk in and find her sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in her hands. For a second there I felt a little calmer, that was until I saw her expression. One word: worry.

"Hey," she greets me with a small genuine smile. Okay, seems it's not me that's making her worry. That's good. I go to the fridge for a cold beer, stopping by her side, I bend to give her a peck on her lips. My fingers bury in her hair, hers sneak to the back of my neck and hold me close to prolong the kiss.

"You are home early," she breathes out after she let go. It's not a question, just a statement of the obvious fact, so I don't say anything and go on to get my beer. Her eyes are following me.

"The police went to see me at work. Anthony's missing... my ex-boyfriend, I mean."

I open the bottle and drink almost half of it at once, it's heavenly cold. Then I look at her. "I've heard."

"You did?" she asks, confused, "When? How?"

I sit at the table with her, answering her questions, "Was in the papers. Wade showed me this morning."

She doesn't reply right away. Instead, she's biting her lip nervously while looking at her hands and sneaking glances at me for a minute before she leans closer to me as if someone could hear her. "Has he- do you think he has anything to do with it?" she whispers.

"Who?"

"Wade," she says his name even more quietly and it takes everything in me to not start to laugh.

"Darling, I'm sure it's safe to say that he has nothing to do with it. Why would you even think that?" I managed to hold back the laughter, but even I can hear the amusement in my voice. Wade-the-kidnapper, it has a ring to it. Her eyes drop to the mug in her hands and her cheeks redden.

"No, of course not, I'm sorry. It was stupid to even ask that." She glances at me probably checking if I'm mad at her for asking. I'm not and it must show because she visibly relaxes. I couldn't be angry with her in this moment even if I tried to be. I find it hilarious, her sitting here with me, discussing someone else's possible involvement in a person going missing. Luckily for me, her character reading skills are, well nonexisting.

She clears her throat before she began to speak again, pulling me out of my musing. "It's the cops, they just asked a lot of questions, said a lot of things too. Apparently, Anthony said to some friend about how he got beaten up, he didn't know the names, but they knew it was somehow connected to me." She looks me in the eyes then. "Jackson, they think I have something to do with it and that the person helping me is responsible for him going missing. They made their opinion quite clear. I think Anthony's family is pushing the issue somehow, they've never hidden their disapproval of me very well. God knows what they told the cops about me!"

Her eyes drop to the mug in her hands. I reach out to make her let go of it so I could pull her toward me. She steps between my knees and leans against the table in front of me. I rest my hands on her hips, enjoying the sight of her in her short shorts.

"What did they ask?"

"They wanted to know everything! How did we meet? How was the relationship? Why did we break up? About the drugs, which I know nothing about except for his shitty treatment of me, by the way. When was the last time I saw him? What do I know about the 'assault!-'"

"-They don't know it was us seeing him before we got your stuff though, right?" I move trying to catch her eyes but she's doing her best to avoid the contact.

"I said I don't know anything about it. Only that he looked like hell when I went to the apartment to pick up my books. I told them he's probably just somewhere getting high." I see her bite her lower lip, then finally locking her eyes with mine, she whispers, "I lied to the cops Jackson! What if they find out! They did ask me to come to the station tomorrow after work. What if something really happened to him-"

"-What if it did?" I cut her off and stand up, getting her full attention.

"What do you mean?"

"How would you feel if something did happen to him?" I lean closer to her and whisper in her ear, "What If he's dead?" I move back to see her reaction.

She's staring back at me as if she isn't sure if I'm serious or not. "I- Why do you ask me that?"

"No reason, it's just a question." I plant a kiss on her forehead, caressing her legs and sides.

A look of disbelief shows on her face. "Jackson, he was an asshole to me at the end, yes, but that doesn't mean I wish he was dead!"

"Alright, alright! Don't get pissed now, but when I saw you together, for a minute there you just seemed to be ready to kill him yourself. You never talked about him, I was just curious, that's all."

"I don't talk about him because it just feels weird to do so with you. You don't talk about your ex-girlfriends either."

"Yeah, but the reason for that is, that there simply aren't any," I say as I lift her to sit her down on the table, kissing her, I ease her legs open, step between them and deepen the kiss. I can't get enough of this, even after what we just discussed I can feel all that frustration from the day slowly leaving my body and I want more. So I push her down, laying her back on the table and start to work her shirt up when her hands suddenly snap to mine, trying to shove them away, but I already saw.

How did I miss this the other day? There is a huge scar on her belly, it looks like someone was trying to do a C-section on her, but changed his mind in the process and decided to gut her instead. She tries to sit up again, but I grab her by her arms and push her back down.

"Let me see." I start to lift her shirt, but she fights me on it.

"Jackson!" She stresses my name in a tone that makes me stop. I look up at her and she looks... scared. I don't like that look on her. I know all about scars, and I can guess what the problem probably is. So I lean over her, resting one hand by her head.

"It's alright." I raise my left to her face to caress her cheek. "What is it? What bothers you, me touching it? Or me seeing it?"

She squirms under me. "Neither, I guess. The scar itself doesn't bother me that much anymore. It's the questions that usually follow."

That makes me almost smile. "I won't ask then." Problem solved! I continue with the caresses for a bit and then move the hand down, over her chest to her belly. She grasps my wrist when I get to the hem of her shirt, the nervous tension is rolling off her in waves. I think she's not as okay with me seeing it as she thinks. "I got them too, you know." I try to calm her down. She gives me a puzzled look so I specify, "Scars... on my back, mostly."

She doesn't move her hand, but she eases the grip she's got on me, so I slip my hand under her shirt. I find what I'm looking for in no time, the tissue of her scar feels so familiar, yet so very foreign, so different from mine. I follow the damaged tissue with my fingers while talking to her. "I don't share the stories behind them either. We can not talk about our scars together. How's that sound?"

It seems to work because she lets go of me and allows me to explore, this time without protest. I move a bit so I can watch the imaginary trail my fingers are leaving behind when it occurred to me that maybe this is the reason... "Is this why you wanted to go slow?" She doesn't say it, but her sudden blush is an answer enough. So yes, this is the reason or at least one of the reasons, why she didn't want to rush things.

I don't think no more. I grab her by her arms, now to lift her off the table, then drag her to my room. She trips over her own feet in surprise, but I quickly catch her and before she manages to say anything, she's on my bed with me on top, lying between her legs. I start to kiss her right away successfully silencing any potential protests. I need this. I need her, whatever she'd let me have.

She seems to come out of her initial shock after a few moments, and I can feel her hands. She raises them off the bed and put them on my sides. For a second there I thought she's going to push me off again, but she doesn't. She holds onto me for a minute and then I can feel her hands move down. She's playing with the hem of my shirt before I feel her fingers slide under it and start to explore my back, a bit hesitantly. Right! Give and take! I know what she's looking for, so I let her explore, just like she had let me, never breaking the kiss I move my own hand down her body to her stomach. She reaches the first of my scars at the same time I plant my palm on her belly. I feel her fingers roam around it much like mine did around hers in the kitchen and I don't mind it, I don't mind her touching it at all. Everything slows down, the kiss is gentler, the touches lighter, it feels like unspoken understanding passes between us.

She finds the second scar, then third and so on and I can't hold still no more. I press myself to her crotch and start to grind, pushing her shirt up to get it off her. She moves her hands, taking my shirt with them, stripping it off me in the process, then she helps me with hers. The peaceful bubble we've been in seems to crack, her hands go directly for my belt and mine to her breast. Our movements turn to be more rushed, more urgent, but she doesn't seem to mind the hasty pace since she has a smile on her face. Once she gets my pants opened I kick off my boots while she's pushing them down my legs. She manages to get them to my knees, when I kneel, pull her with me and get rid of her bra. I look around, searching for something to tie her hands. I don't even think about it. It's just what I do, how I've always done it.

"What?" She asks a little out of breath. I don't want to leave the bed, I don't want to use the plastic ties on her anyway. It doesn't feel right. So I just grab my shirt and rip the bottom hem from it while she's watching me, looking perplexed. "What are you doing?" You'll see soon enough. I push her back down and take her wrists in my hands, still holding the strip of fabric in one of mine, I raise them above her head and start to tie them together. At that moment she fully realizes my intention and starts to struggle, trying to get free. "Wait!" she whispers. But her struggles are nothing for me, I could tie someone up in my sleep and I'm sure she'll like this. "Jackson, wait!" she says a little louder. By then I already have her wrists bound together and am about to tie them to the bedpost when she shouts, "Stop it!"

I hope you enjoy the story. If you do, feel welcome to push that little star to let me know, or better yet, leave me a comment ;)