"Here, dry off," Jack said, handing her a towel, back to being cold and unapproachable again.
Cindy toweled herself, but only because she was freezing now that she was out of the warm water. Otherwise she might've been a little too terrified to move.
She couldn't stop staring at the long, thick scar on his back. It was clearly a from a burn, and with how deep it was in some places was impressive in a morbid sort of way. She was grateful that he was even still walking. "I didn't mean for what happened to your family to happen, but it did, and I'm sorry," she said quickly before he could cut her off.
"I don't want to talk about that with you," he said, not looking at her as he pulled his jeans on.
"I didn't start that fire, Jack. You have to know that! There would have been a police report, or some kind of investigation that said it was regular arson-"
Jack slammed his fist down on the bathroom counter. The bang was as loud as a gunshot, and Cindy was instantly quiet.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, and Jack looked like he was gasping for breath when he turned to look at her. "Stop talking to me about that," he said, and he looked absolutely serious.
Cindy looked down at his hand, which was still clenched into a fist on the counter. She was surprised that the surface hadn't cracked.
Cindy nodded. "Okay," she said. "But I will be talking to you about it later."
Jack's face softened for a brief moment, but then he glared at her again, before turning around so that she couldn't see it.
Cindy's heart hurt for him. Not for herself, and the fact that he thought she was a murderer, but for him.
She wasn't going to give up on this. "What should I get dressed in? My clothes are dirty and torn and I can't put on any of your shirts."
Jack sighed. "Just...wrap the towel around yourself. I'll bring you something from my room."
He'd bring her something from his room? "I'm not going back with you?"
"I'm tired. I want to just lie down for a while. I'm going to put you back downstairs."
"In the basement where it's cold and dirty? What was the point of having the shower then?" Cindy snapped.
"It's not dirty down there. I cleaned up before you came."
"It's still cold, and muggy. You really need a dehumidifier down there."
"Cindy, stop it."
"I don't want to go back down there!" Cindy yelled. She hated it, but a feeling of hysteria bubbled up inside her at the thought of going downstairs, maybe being put into the box, and then left alone, no chance to speak with Jack again, until the Collectors came for her."
"Jack, seriously, please, let me stay up here with you. You have me chained up and it's not like I can do anything to you anyway."
"You're right, you can't do anything to me because if you tried it, I would just kill you."
She didn't believe him. It was just the fact that he'd said it at all that made her shiver. "So, does that mean you won't make me go back into the basement?" Cindy asked. She was supposed to be seducing her way into his bed again, but for the moment, that plan looked like it was sailing right out the window, because there wasn't much of anything that was sexy about begging. Not this sort of begging, anyway.
Jack let his head fall back, and he sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. It was something he always did when he was losing his patience.
"Yes," he said finally.
Cindy breathed a sigh of relief.
Because Jack didn't look like the sort of guy who owned a hair dryer, she towel dried her hair quickly, which left it damp, and then followed him out with the big yellow towel wrapped around her middle.
She was definitely feeling better when they got back to his room.
"We're not going to have sex again," Jack said softly. "So you don't have to worry about that."
"You make it sound like what we did was a bad thing," Cindy replied, and she went to sit down on the bed.
Something about knowing that she was going to be sleeping in it made her sigh as she flopped down and rolled onto her side.
Jack only had to stretch out his arm just a little as he walked around the other side of the bed.
He kept his jeans on as he let himself fall face first onto the mattress.
Cindy bounced a little, and she was somewhat surprised. He wasn't kidding when he said he was tired.
But he didn't stay that way either. He lifted himself up and turned onto his side as well, and he was now looking at her.
"We're both going to get your pillows wet," Cindy said.
He nodded. "Probably."
"You don't have to watch me. I'm not going to do anything and even if I could, I wouldn't," Cindy said.
"I know."
Cindy frowned. "Because you would kill me if I tried, right?"
He actually looked a bit uncomfortable at the mention of that. "I wasn't...that wasn't what I meant to say," he said, and then he looked at her from top to bottom. "When did you lose the baby? If it's okay that I ask."
Cindy cringed at the question, but she nodded. "I miscarried the day of the fire."
Jack's eyes widened at that. "Are you serious?"
Cindy turned onto her back. She could still feel the pain in her gut sometimes. "Yeah. I was punched in the stomach a couple of time. He didn't make it."
She could feel the weird way Jack was looking at her, if that made any sense. "How do you know it was a him?"
"Not because of some paranormal power I have, I promise you that," Cindy said. "That's just...I'd just rather call the baby a him than an it."
"Oh, that makes sense," Jack said, and when Cindy looked at him, he was staring down at the space between them, and the chain that connected them, before their eyes met again. "Who punched you?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Yes, it kind of does," Jack said.
Cindy was stunned. "You actually sound kind of angry."
"I am. You were carrying my baby."
Cindy was silent. She was trying to think of what to say, trying to read what was going through Jack's mind. She must've taken too long because he started talking again.
"I believed you then and I believe you now, so tell me who was it that punched you? If it was a collector then I can find him and deal with him. They have rules about handling pregnant paranormals."
"You believe me about being pregnant, but not the fact that I wasn't the one who lit your house on fire?"
Jack pursed his lips, but now it looked like the glare he had on his face was directed at her, instead of the person who killed their child.
"Stop looking at me like that," Cindy said. She decided to risk getting kicked out of his bed and thrown into that box because she was tired of this and tired of being pushed around. "You can't have it both ways. You believed me when I said that I was pregnant but you don't believe me when I try to tell you that I'm not the one who set the fire."
"My house burned down with me, my father, and my brothers all inside of it the night after I told you what I was, and I hadn't seen you the morning before it happened either. That is not a coincidence."
"You're right, its not," Cindy agreed.
Jack frowned at her, but it was a curious one. "What?" He sat up and looked at her. "You were telling me all this time that it wasn't your fault and now you're going to say that it was?"
"That isn't what I said," Cindy replied. She tried to keep herself from yelling or getting emotional. She knew for a fact that if she started yelling, then Jack was going to start yelling, and then neither of them were going to hear the other.
She had to stay calm while Jack was still listening. The problem, however, was that Cindy's throat almost immediately closed up in a painful way that happened whenever she became so monumentally sad that she was about to cry.
"Stacy punched me," Cindy said.
Jack frowned, and she could almost see the wheels in his head turning as he tried to remember who exactly Stacy was. "Stacy...your old roommate?"
Cindy nodded and wiped both hands over her face. At least she wasn't wearing any makeup anymore. "Her and Stephanie. You didn't know this, and I didn't tell you, but they're paranormals, too."
Jack raised his blond brows for a hair of a second before he rolled his eyes and fell down on his back again. "I guess I should've seen that coming. You all lived together. Jamie, too?"
Cindy nodded, and then stopped and stared hard at him. As far as she could remember, she'd never introduced him to Jamie.
"His name was on your phone," Jack said in response to the look on her face. "Don't worry, I didn't find him," he said, as if trying to calm a scared animal.
That helped only barely. "I guess there's no point in hiding anything else from you since you're going to find out about him sooner or later. He can control electricity. Sucks it up from the wiring in the walls, or batteries, wherever he can get it," she said.
Jack's body was tense again, his hands clenched into fists and his eyes hard and angry. "He hit you?"