Every Rose Has Its Thorns

Chapter 7

        Jo awoke some time later. Someone had moved her to the couch and placed a blanket over top of her. A tray of food sat waiting on the coffee table.

        The sun was setting, casting a golden glow across the room as she got up. She didn't know how long she had been asleep but it unnerved her that she hadn't woken up when someone moved her. Ignoring the food she walked to the window. At first glance, all Jo could see was miles of uninterrupted forest. As far as she was concerned they could be anywhere in the continental U.S. 

        Looking closer she realized she was on the second floor of what appeared to be a large estate. The window faced a large garden, enclosed by serious looking wall - whether it was designed to keep people in or out, she knew immediately she would need a plan if she was going to succeed in getting over it. Jo tried to figure out how far he could have taken her from San Francisco, but without knowing how long she was out it was impossible. A man like him could have had her on a plane and across the country in minutes. On the other hand, the pacific northwest was covered with national parks like this. If she could just figure out what state she was in, maybe she could find her way through the woods. 

        Jo knew she was getting ahead of herself but thinking through every possible escape route was the only thing keeping her fear at bay. She needed logic and order. Despite her creative career choice, the thing she loved most about music was its mathematic certainty - music was simply a mathematical division of time. Every note, the progression of a movement, was like an equation she had to puzzle through and that kind of logical thinking is what had held her together for most of her life. If she kept reminding herself that this was nothing more than a puzzle, she could keep that trickle of fear from spreading through her limbs and spiking her adrenaline. 

        So lost in thought as she stared out the window, Jo didn't hear the door open. A low cough startled her out of her trance and she whirled around to come face to face with him. 

        "Did you sleep well?"

        Jo looked away and walked back to the couch, sitting down again. She heard him sigh and take his seat in the armchair like before. She didn't like feeling like they were already establishing a routine of sorts. Nothing about this was routine. 

        "You need to eat something, mio amore." Jo stayed silent. After a moment she chanced a look at him and saw his gaze was elsewhere, a frustrated crease in his brow. 

        "Who are you?" Jo asked. Her curiosity had finally gotten the better of her. She recognized him from the grocery store but there had to be more to the story. He looked at her calmly, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You said your name was Jack?"

        He chuckled, leaning forward in his chair so his elbows were resting on his knees, his hands clasped together. "Of course, I've been very rude. My name is Jack, I'm very pleased you remember. Jack Toscano," he held out a hand to shake but Jo didn't move. He dropped it, amused. 

        Feeling braver now that she knew he was going to give her some answers, Jo unconsciously shifted towards him. "The grocery store, was that the first time we met?"

        Jack leaned back into his chair, relaxing into Jo's line of questioning. "I'll make you a deal. I'll answer your questions if you eat something." He gestured to the untouched tray of food on the coffee table.

        Jo quickly dismissed him with a shake of her head. "I'm not hungry." In truth her stomach had been rolling with nausea since she woke up and the stress of her situation wasn't helping.

        "Just try. You haven't eaten in some time, you'll feel better if you eat."

        Jo looked at him warily. The irrational side of her brain wanted to refuse for the sake of defying him but she knew he was right. She needed to eat and if eating was going to get her the answers she wanted, she would do it. "And you'll answer my questions?"

        "Scout's honor," he replied, an amused twinkle in his eye.

        Jo looked at the tray of food and settled on a bowl of sliced fruit. She began nibbling on a piece of mango and looked at him expectantly. Jack laughed, putting his hands up conciliatory defeat.

        "To answer your first question, no, but we didn't meet in the traditional sense of the word. I first saw you in Boston, while you were at school there."

        Jo looked at him, shocked. That had been at least three years ago. "Eat, Jo," he said and she looked down at the forgotten fruit in her hand. She took another tentative bite, waiting for him to continue.

        "I was in town on business and you were playing piano in the lobby of my hotel. I learned afterwards that it was one of the many gigs you took to put yourself through school. I admire that about you, Jo. Your tenacity." He looked at her with genuine admiration. It was a look Jo had never received from anyone but her brother, but where he gave her a sense of warmth and security, Jack made her feel exposed. She wrapped her arms around herself and with another pointed look from Jack, took another piece of fruit from the bowl and continued eating. 

        "Your playing was exquisite but that's not what drew me in. You were so lost in your own world, I'm convinced an elephant could have walked past you and wouldn't have noticed," he chuckled to himself, lost in the memory. "I got lost just watching you play. Initially," Jack shrugged, "I left it at that. You were a talented musician. I gave you a tip, and went about my business. But later that night, at a business dinner across town, there you were again, playing the piano with the same focus, the same lost look on your face," Jack stopped, leaning forward in his chair again. "Do you believe in fate, Jo?"

        Jo swallowed her last bite of mango, the fruit hitting her stomach like a piece of lead. "No, I don't," she replied, her voice strong, a hint of the anger she felt rising in her coming to the surface. Is that what this was about? Fate? Just because he happened to see her doing her job twice he thought that reason enough to rip her from everything she had built for herself?

        But his answer surprised her. "Good. Fate is for fools who feel they aren't in control of their own lives." He seemed pleased by her answer, like she was confirming something for him and she hated it. 

        "What does that have to do with watching me play?" Jo asked angrily. 

        Jack composed himself, leaning back in his chair and looking at her steadily. "Please, continue eating. I'm getting there."

        Exasperated Jo turned back to the tray of food. The fruit bowl now empty she only had some toast and cold eggs to choose from. She opted, instead, for some tea from the pot next to the dishes. After pouring herself a cup she tucked her knees up to her chin and grasped the teacup in both hands, enjoying the warmth of the porcelain. She gave him a stern look, daring him to challenge her choice. 

        Jack just smirked and continued his story. "As I said, that night I was at a business dinner of sorts. It wasn't going well. Things were getting heated, voices were raised. I was beginning to think things were going to get violent. I didn't realize you had stopped playing until I heard your voice behind me."  Jo thought back to the various gigs she played around town during her time in Boston but none of them stood out particularly in her mind.

        "You stood there with this incredibly determined look on your face," Jack continued, "and said, 'If you would all stop making asses out of yourselves for five minutes you might realize that this is neither the time nor place for this kind of behavior. There are other people here trying to enjoy their dinner with a little music so either take it outside or sit down and continue your meal with a little more civility.' And just like that, you turned around, walked back to the piano, and continued playing," Jack chuckled at the memory. 

        Jo couldn't place the night he was talking about but she was familiar with the kind of people Jack described - Boston was a drinkers town and rowdy crowds affected her tips. If nobody could hear her playing, nobody would bother to tip her and she couldn't afford to lose out on that kind of money so, occasionally, she would say something. 

        "If you had known the kind of people you were speaking to I guarantee you wouldn't have been so bold but, somehow, you managed to both shut them up and de-escalate what was shaping up to be an unfortunate end to an otherwise valuable partnership. After that I had to know you. I learned everything I could and the more I learned, the more I grew to love you. That evening at the grocery store, I knew how much your brother's wedding meant to you and I knew you needed roses," Jack shrugged nonchalantly, as though his watching her was normal, "so I made sure you had roses."

        Jo sat on the couch, her tea, long cold, still clutched tightly in her hands. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that she had crossed paths with him so many years ago. It didn't seem possible that someone had been watching her for so long without her knowledge. 

        "Say something, mio amore," Jack said. When Jo looked up to meet his gaze he looked calm, like he was measuring her response. 

        "So you've been stalking me...for three years?" she asked.

        Jack's eyes narrowed a bit. "Watching over you, Jo." 

        Jo shook her head, putting her tea down on the coffee table in one quick motion. "But why now? Why couldn't you just leave me alone? After three years of no contact you decide to just kidnap me? It doesn't make any sense!" Jo started to hyperventilate and he moved to sit beside her on the couch, rubbing circles on her back until she scooted away from him. He dropped his hand but remained seated next to her. 

        "In my line of work, having someone you care about is dangerous. I always planned to bring you home with me. That it happened to be now doesn't matter." 

        "Doesn't matter?" Jo yelled. Her anger was rising again, heat flooding her veins. "It matters to me! If you know everything about me you would know how hard I've worked to get to where I am. My family, my career, my life was finally steady. I was happy! You've taken everything I care about from me. What about my brother? And Lauren? Michelle, Jen! God my work! My work was selected for the spring program, do you have any idea what that means? And you have the nerve to say it doesn't matter?" 

        Jo choked on the last words, her anger giving way to sorrow as tears started to slip down her face. Everything and everyone she lost was ripping through her and she couldn't take it. 

        Jack listened to her quietly. His face betrayed no emotion but he watched her closely, giving her space. When she started to calm down he knelt down in front of her, trying to meet her gaze. "I know this is difficult for you. But you will be happy here. You will be safe here." He reached for her hand and Jo, too tired to stop him, let him take it in his. He kissed her palm as he held her gaze. "One day you'll come to understand that everything I do, I do for you." 

        "Now," he said, putting on a cheery face, "would you like some time to yourself or would you like a tour of your new home?" Jo thought about it. She felt tired and gross, still in the clothes she was taken in, but the thought of leaving this room filled her with a sense of relief. 

        Jack, seeming to read her mind, said, "Why don't you take a bath and I'll come and fetch you in an hour?" He moved to one of the doors across the large room and Jo heard him start to fill the bath. Just the thought of hot water was enough to relax her a bit. The tension that had built up in her body was enough to make her ache everywhere. She slowly stood up, facing the bathroom door as Jack reappeared. 

        "I've started the tap for you, just turn the knob to change the temperature. I'll be back in an hour, mio amore. Towels are in the bathroom and there are clean clothes for you in the closet," he gestured to the second door near the bathroom. He came over and pecked her on the forehead, then left the room, closing the door and turning the lock with a resolute click.