Jessa Ch. 07

Jessa was toying with the remains of her breakfast. Torah sat next to her, tapping a finger in annoyance. "Just eat it," he said in exasperation.

"I'm full," she replied, yet again. The children and Mia had gone off to program work. Horach, Bona and Torah were discussing some cropland that needed to be harvested, when he wasn't nagging her to eat. She was mostly staring out the window at the terraced gardens behind the villa. Torah pulled his ever present cell phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. He tapped it, put it up to his ear and said "Hold," then strode from the room.

Jessa saw her chance to escape. "I'm going back upstairs," she told Horach and Bona, who barely glanced at her. When she got back out into the atrium, she could see Torah through the front windows. He was pacing back and forth on the porch. She turned toward the stairs, but then glanced out the back again, at the gardens. They seemed much more inviting in the late summer sunshine than her molecular biology program. She wandered out back and began climbing among the terraces, expecting Torah to emerge at any moment, looking for her. She had come to understand that when he took a voice call, it was probably something important, but he was also usually quite terse, at least in her presence. Her fingers reached for the choker about her neck. It wasn't like he couldn't easily find her when he did finish his call. She reached the last terrace and continued to climb up the steep hillside. Above her, at the top of the hill she could hear the whir of the wind turbines, spinning deceptively slow in the gentle wind.

When she topped the hill, she walked to the nearest turbine and leaned against the cool metal, studying the array of the wind farm. The blades were quite long, and the turbines fairly closely placed. If she remembered correctly, that meant the winds were mostly gentle in this area, without turbulence being a major concern. She wondered if Torah's family owned the wind farm and the power it produced. There was still so much she didn't know. They had talked about harvesting this morning. There were no fields in sight from where she was standing. How much land did they have? She found herself gazing off to the southwest, toward her home; what had been her home.

"You shouldn't be up here," Torah said from behind her.

She started and turned. She hadn't heard his approach over the sound of the turbines. He was breathing hard, like he had run all the way up the steep hill. But he didn't seem mad, as he watched her warily. She walked toward him. "Is everything all right?"

"No." He ran his hands through his hair. "Come down off this hill. The turbulence can be dangerous."

Jessa bit her tongue. She had calculated the wind speed and the turbulence as she watched the blades turn. But it was obviously not a good time to argue the relative dangers. She obligingly joined him and followed as he led the way down the hill. "What has happened?" she asked softly, not really expecting an answer.

"I... We need to go back to Dusseldorf."

She trotted a few steps to pull even with him so she could see his face. "Torah? What is it?"

The strain in his face was obvious now that she was closer. "One of my team members has been killed."

It felt like the information had been wrenched from him against his will. "I'm sorry, Torah."

He glanced at her, his jaw working. For just the briefest moment, she thought she saw a flicker of anguish in his eyes, but then the ice cold persona was taking over his features. At least this time, it didn't seem directed at her. "Servants are packing for us. We need to leave as soon as possible." He glanced at her. "You should change into a gown." Then he sighed. "And Mother has asked to speak to you before we leave."

Jessa almost stumbled in surprise. Shonah had barely spoken to her since her arrival. Jessa rarely even saw her except at dinner, when she mostly ate in silence, watching the rest of the family. Torah took her arm when they reached the top of the terraced garden. He trotted down the steps between the terraces, both pulling her along and supporting her from falling.

When they reached the atrium, he pushed her toward the stairs. "Go dress, then Mother is waiting for you in her sitting room." He headed off in a different direction. Jessa hurried up the steps and found servants packing, even as Torah had indicated. There was a small bag for him, as he had a full wardrobe at his apartment in Dusseldorf. There was a much larger bag for her. The thought of someone else picking out her clothes and underwear filled her with dismay, but she knew Torah would be mad if she wasted time to interfere with the servants' work, so she bit her lip and went to find a gown for the trip. She made hasty work of dressing, then hurried back down the stairs to knock timidly on Shonah's sitting room door. A servant opened the door to let her in, then left, closing it behind her.

Jessa bowed toward Shonah and waited for permission to approach. The frail woman waved her to a chair. Jessa knew that Horach was Shonah's older brother, yet she looked at least twenty years older than him. Her failing health, while it hadn't conquered her yet, had certainly beaten her down over the years. Jessa sat and folded her hands in her lap. "My Lady," she said quietly.

Shonah's sharp eyes studied her. When she finally spoke, her voice was raspy but strong. "I love my son." She paused to let that sink in. "And you have confounded him at every turn."

"I don't know how to be what he needs me to be," Jessa said softly.

"Hush!" Shonah commanded her, and Jessa could hear echoes of Torah in that dictate. "Have you figured out what he is, yet?"

Jessa gave her a puzzled frown. "I don't know what you mean."

"Your papers say you have an IQ of 140. How can such a smart girl be so stupid?"

"I'm not stupid," Jessa protested. "But I can only learn what the Council allows me to learn. You Circles have hidden so much from us."

"There is learning. And there is figuring out." Shonah leaned toward her. "You have been gifted with an excellent brain. You need to use it to start figuring things out before you get my son killed."

Jessa paled. "I'm not trying to get him killed," she whispered, shaking her head.

"Your stupidity will get him killed," Shonah insisted.

"If he would answer my questions, tell me what is going on, then I could help him," she argued.

"He doesn't owe you answers. You owe him trust. But at every turn you defy him."

"No! I've tried to be obedient, to do what he tells me to do."

"You defy him in your heart. I see it. He sees it. When he most needs to think of nothing but his job, he is thinking about you. It got him shot, this time. Next time, it may be fatal."

Jessa jumped to her feet. "How can all this be my fault? I wasn't even there!"

"Because of you, he fights his training, fights what he was molded to be since the age of twelve." Jessa could only shake her head in confusion. Shonah continued. "Now he is taking you to Dusseldorf because he cannot trust you here. In Dusseldorf, you will be a distraction, a constant worry for him. It will rob him of his edge, steal his training from him and get him killed."

"What do you expect me to do," Jessa exclaimed. "I'm not making him take me to Dusseldorf."

"You need to accept your position, your fate. In your heart. Not just in words of convenience because you are afraid or devious."

Jessa lurched back as if she had been slapped. She stared at Shonah. "I have no control over any of this," she said with a hiss. "I was stolen into this place and this life. I can try to make the best of it, but I cannot change what is in my heart."

There was a knock on the door and Torah walked in without waiting for an answer. His eyes took in the two women staring fiercely at each other. He strode across the room and took Jessa's arm, tugging her out of what looked for all the world like an attack stance. "Mother?" he said, and it was more question than honorific.

"She will get you killed," Shonah snarled.

"Only if I let her," Torah replied. Jessa's head snapped to stare at him. "My weakness will get me killed, Mother. Not her strength."

"She is your weakness," Shonah declared, settling wearily back in her chair. Torah waved and a servant appeared from nowhere.

"That may be true," Torah said more softly. "But it is still my weakness, my failure." He pushed Jessa behind him, then bent and kissed his mother's cheek as the servant adjusted pillows behind her back. "Have faith, Mother. I will return and you will have another grandson to bless."

Shonah waved weakly in dismissal, but her eyes brimmed with love for her son. He kissed her forehead, then straightened and took Jessa's arm again, pulling her from the room.

Out in the atrium, Jessa tried to pull him to a stop, but he was having none of it. He pulled her along, presumably toward the garage. "Torah," she said, trotting to keep up with his long, determined strides. "I'm sorry I lost my temper. She was blaming me for things I couldn't control, but I shouldn't have..."

"Enough," he snapped. Then more calmly, "There's been more than enough tempers lost recently." He looked at her as he reached for the door down to the basement garage. "I need you to be quiet for a while so I can think. Can you do that for me? No questions, no argument, no defiance."

She swallowed and nodded.

"Good girl," he muttered.

****

They were flying down the highway toward Dusseldorf, faster than Jessa thought was possible for an electric car. She eyed the glove compartment more than once, wondering if the gun was in there still, or again. She was doing her damnedest to remain quiet, although a hundred questions were pounding in her head and her heart and even deep down in her belly. She felt Torah glancing at her from time to time. She knew if she looked back at him, though, a question would come bursting out of her mouth. She hugged herself, staring out the window at the passing countryside.

"One question," he said out of the blue. Jessa looked at him in surprise. "Be smart. Make it one I can answer."

She thought about all the questions she wanted answers for, all the questions she had already asked and he had refused to answer. "Was it my fault that you were shot?" she finally asked, her voice soft with dread.

He glanced over at her, before he returned to his incessant scanning of the road ahead and behind. "Is that what Mother told you?"

Jessa nodded, then remembered he wasn't looking at her. "Yes. Well, she said I was a distraction from your job. That you fight your training, because of me." She risked looking at him. His jaw was working in that way that said he wasn't going to answer. She slumped down in her seat and looked back out the window at the passing scenery.

Several miles went by before he spoke again. "I was trained to act and react in certain ways to certain situations." His words were very quiet, and Jessa fought the compulsion to look at him. She was sure he would speak more freely if she made like an inanimate object. "Sometimes, you present like one of those certain situations." Jessa realized she was holding her breath, but still she couldn't release it. It felt like another mile passed by before he spoke again. "I'm trying to find my way not to see you as my enemy, even when you do things..." He drew a deep breath. "But if I pause to think about the meaning, the implications, the motives behind a behavior... then I can't react instantaneously." He reached over and laid his hand on her leg. "I don't want to react reflexively with you. But I need to react that way with my enemies. I haven't resolved that. I responded a fraction too slowly and got kissed by a bullet. That wasn't your fault. That was on me."

Jessa squirmed in the seat. His answer only stirred up even more questions. She bit her lip, determined to respect his parameters. He actually laughed at her. "Answers are like orgasms to you, aren't they?"

She nodded miserably. His fingers inched the fabric of her gown slowly up her leg, even as they inched higher on her thigh. Jessa was breathing faster, her hands gripping the edges of the seat, watching with fascination as his hand gathered the fabric of her gown, draping it about her waist before plunging between her legs. Just as suddenly, her seat back tilted and she was staring at the ceiling of the car while Torah's fingers were taunting her pussy, only barely kept at bay by the fabric of her panties. Then she didn't even have that protection. He had twisted, yanked and suddenly the wisp of fabric was gone and his fingers were running up and down her slit, spreading her moisture, teasing her clit. When she writhed against the sweet torment, he reached up and tightened her seat belt, binding her hips tight against the seat, before he continued his one-handed assault.

Two fingers plunged inside her, meeting no resistance. She cried out, but spread her legs so he could probe ever deeper. His thumb pressed against her clit and the tips of his fingers inside slid down the front wall of her pussy over and over again. All she could say was, "Uhh, uhh, uhh," over and over again, until she was screaming and bucking against his hand as much as the seatbelt would allow. He smiled as he retrieved his hand and sucked her juices from his fingers. Jessa teetered at the edge of unconsciousness in the reclined seat.

****

Torah was shaking her shoulder, waking her. When she looked up at him, the icy cold was back in his eyes. "Stay in the car," he said. "Are you awake, do you understand what I'm saying?"

Jessa nodded. She looked around and realized they were in an underground parking garage. Torah opened the glove compartment and pulled out the gun and extra clips, slipping them into the pockets of his light jacket. "Stay in the car until I come for you," he repeated. Then he was slipping out of the car, closing the door silently. She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to watch him, but he had disappeared from sight. She didn't catch sight of him again until he was right beside her door, opening it for her. She climbed out, watching him for guidance. His eyes were scanning the parking complex, even as he led her to the back of the car and pulled their bags from the trunk. As he was closing the trunk, she grabbed both bags, pulling their straps over her shoulders. If he was her protection from whatever might be out there laying in wait, then she was going to make sure he was unencumbered. He glanced at her with a frown, but then nodded and led her toward the elevators.

Once they arrived at the floor where his apartment was, he seemed to visibly relax. He gave the hall only a cursory scan, then was opening the door, taking the heavier bag from her shoulder as she passed by him to enter. After he secured the door, he took the other bag and threw them into the bedroom, then strode into the kitchen to the refrigerator, opening it and staring inside. "What do you want to eat?" he asked.

"Is anything in there edible?" she said, wrinkling her nose.

"It's been stocked. They knew I was coming."

"Why don't I cook then," she offered. "You probably have calls or texts or whatever."

He cocked an eyebrow at her and she was relieved to see that the icy coldness had faded. "That's very domestic of you."

She shrugged. "I like to eat. Just not when someone is nagging me," she added with a glare at him.

He pulled his cell phone out and looked at the screen. "Right on cue," he muttered, putting it up to his ear. "Yeah. Right. Bring them up."

She went to the refrigerator to take inventory as he ended the call. "That was Erich. He's bringing your security team up."

She wasn't sure which was more surprising, that he told her what the call was about, or that she had a security team. "My what?"

"Your security team," he repeated.

She snorted. "To keep me from getting in trouble?"

"To keep you safe when I'm gone." He leaned around her to pull a bottle of wine out of the refrigerator. "And to keep you from getting into trouble."

She pulled items out of the refrigerator, watching him as he poured a glass of wine. His eyes had darkened, and when he looked back up at her, she couldn't read his expression. "Cook something fast. My team is meeting in a little while. And afterward, I have an experiment I'd like to try."

"An experiment?"

"An experiment," he repeated, his eyes gliding down the fitted lines of her gown. And just like that, her belly began to roil in anticipation. "Cook," he said, waving toward the stove as he began typing something in to his cell phone, wandering out to the living room. Jessa found a chopping board and started in on the vegetables she had found. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. She put the knife down and walked softly to the entry of the kitchen, where she could see the living room. Torah and Erich were in quiet conversation. With them were two huge men that managed to make both Torah and Erich look like the last picked for the team. Both of those men were eyeing her speculatively. Jessa was pretty sure either one of them could have broken her in half, despite her own athletic build.

Erich looked up and spotted her. He crossed the room quickly and pulled her into an embrace, kissing her cheek. It wasn't his usual bear hug, and Jessa wondered if he was angry at her, or just bothered by events. A moment later, he was pulling her toward the entryway to greet the newcomers.

"Jessa, this is Charl and Menah. They will be watching out for you when Torah is away."

Jessa forced a smile at the men, who both bowed slightly and addressed her as My Lady, even though she wasn't married to Torah yet. The smile remained fixed in place as she glanced over at Torah and raised an eyebrow. He merely shrugged. "Dinner?" he asked.

"On it," she replied and hurried back to the kitchen. She tried to eavesdrop on the conversation from her station at the work counter, but they were speaking very low, and she eventually gave up, throwing the meat into the oiled pan to sizzle. When Torah came back into the kitchen, alone, to retrieve his wine, she said, "They weren't wearing crests."

"Very observant," Torah noted after a moment.

"Like you and Erich."

"Right," he conceded.

"But they looked more like elite," she commented, not looking up at him.

"That sounds like profiling," he pointed out, refilling his wine glass. "And don't think I can't recognize your thinly veiled attempt to disguise your questions." She glanced askance at him, but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

She shrugged. "I figured if they were Elites, they probably weren't on your team," she said, stirring the vegetables into the pan.

He walked over and took her chin. "That smells delicious. And those men are support members of my team. Now enough."

"Torah?"

"Don't push it, Jessa," he warned, his voice low.

"I was just going to ask if I could go shopping for some supplies." She gestured around the kitchen. "Things I like to cook with; herbs, spices, stuff like that. You have hardly anything to work with here. I mean, if we're going to be here a while."

He studied her a moment. "All right. If I am not here, you will take Charl and Menah. And you will do whatever they tell you to do, without questions or argument." She nodded. He got two plates out of the cupboard and she dished up the dinner.

Torah ate quickly, and without nagging her to eat, then left. As he went out the door, Charl came in and stood with his back to the door. He must have been waiting out in the hall. Jessa gathered the plates to take them back to the kitchen. "You don't have to stand there like that," she said. "You can sit down."

"No, My Lady. I have my instructions," he replied stiffly. She regarded him with a shake of her head.