2. The Offer

            Jim had been really pressing his luck lately, and I couldn't understand why. He was trying to be riskier, coming back to the house earlier than expected. A few times I swore he was going to get caught by Dean, leaving me to explain why I was housing someone in secret. I was housing Jim for a much different reason than Dean. While Dean had showed up to protect me, Jim had come to ask me for help.

            Looking back on that day, I wondered why I'd agreed to begin with.

~*~

            An annoying sense of déjà vu crept up on me when I heard a pounding on the door. I looked to the front door strangely. It was night, so Dean couldn't be back. He'd just left for work. A little wary, I grabbed a rolling pin from one of my drawers and headed to answer the door. The person before me looked a bit taken aback by my defensive stance.

            "Expecting someone else?"

            His accent caught me off guard. It wasn't often that I heard people with different accents. I placed his as Irish after I thought about it for a while.

            "You're not the first stranger to come knocking on my door," I said lowly, still keeping a tight grip on the rolling pin.

            "Oh, so you're that kind of girl." He chuckled.

            I scowled. "Hardly. Look, I'm not one for people hanging around my house, and I don't know you, so you better leave before I call the police."

            "I'm not doing anything to you."

            "You're bothering me, for one thing. You're also trespassing. That's motive enough to have you arrested."

            "Listen, Ms. Whitmore, I came to you to ask for your help."

            My eyes widened, I stood more erect. "How do you know me?"

            "I knew your father."

            "Bullshit."

            "A woman with some fire in her. I bet your sister has the same."

            "You better leave now." First this guy knew my name, supposedly knew my father, and somehow knew I had a sister. He wasn't exactly earning brownie points.

            "Just hear me out, please. I'm not here to hurt you; I came here to ask a favor of you."

            "Why?"

            "The person who was after your father may be after me."

            "Tough luck for you. Do you live around here?"

            "No, I live in England, London to be more specific."

"That's a long way to travel."

"Your father's murderer has a lot of connections. I have no doubt he'll start coming after others like him, including me."

            "Why would you come to me? I was told I could be in danger from his murderer. Why would you want to come to me if you're in the same danger?"

            "I didn't know where else to turn. Please, Raine, I knew your father. I know you and I don't know each other, but I'm willing to bet you're like your father."

            "And what does that mean exactly?"

            "I'm hoping that you'll help me."

            "How can I?" I asked warily.

            "I'm not asking much. Do you have a spare room that I could use?"

            "I think so. It's probably empty."

            "That's all I'll need." He cleared his throat. "Can I come in, or are you going to let me stand out here?"

            After a little internal debate, I lowered the rolling pin, opening the door more to let the friend of my father in.

            "I don't think my dad has ever mentioned you, whoever you really are," I said as I closed the door. "You didn't even tell me your name."

            "It's Jim Moriarty, my dear."

            I rolled my eyes at the nickname. What did I just get myself into?

~*~

            Maybe it had been Jim's begging demeanor. Maybe it was because I had to trust him when he said who he was. Maybe it was because the good-natured side of me couldn't bear to see someone left alone to fend for themselves. Dad never really talked about his business partners, so I had no idea if Jim had ever told me the truth that day. There was just something about him that made me want to believe him.

            It was weird to house someone who was running from a murderer; it was bad enough my life was possibly in danger. I had nowhere torun, so if Dad's murderer came to my house, I was my only hope unless Dean was around. I had a feeling if it were up to Jim, he'd run the first chance he could and leave me for dead. He just gave that vibe off to me.

            Jim Moriarty was a very complicated man to figure out. You always thought he was this, but then he ended up being that.

            I could say this much about him, he was definitely a woman charmer. How would I know that? Well, lately, a few times, to show his gratitude, he stole me away for the night to take me out for dinner. I was very reluctant about the idea, as there was a small thing of paranoia in me. But Jim assured me everything was going to be fine, that we were going to be safe. I had to take his word for it, he'd sounded very confident.

            Tonight was another out-to-dinner night. This was perhaps the most expensive, fanciest place yet we'd ever gone to. It required dress-up, which Jim was no stranger to. He looked like he belonged in the restaurant. I'd had to scrounge for something dressy. I settled for a traditional black dress. It was simply elegant, which was all I could ever be comfortable with.

            In a way, I felt awful for doing this behind Dean's back. I doubted we'd ever have something like this. We used to before he got that job as a nightshift guard at the prison. Now we almost never got to do couple things. I felt like I was more with Jim lately than Dean. That terrified me a bit.

            I didn't want people to get the wrong impression. Jim and I were just two...what? Not friends. More like acquaintances.

            "I'd like to know how you managed this," I said, shaking my head. The place gave off a slightly royal feel, with the warm colors and crystal chandeliers. "It couldn't have been easy."

            "Eh, nothing's difficult for me," he said smoothly. "Things tend to come to me easily."

            "Like women?" I looked around to see a few catching glimpses of us, more so Jim. "I'm telling you, I wouldn't be surprised if a few followed us out after we're done here."

            "What can I say? I'm Mr. Sex." He grinned.

            I covered my mouth so I wouldn't laugh obnoxiously and disturb everyone. "Yeah, okay. I doubt anyone calls you that. You gave the title to yourself."

            "You never do that? Give yourself a title?"

            I shrugged. "I don't know enough people to have one. I'm fine with that."

            "You could always have one if you come work for me when I leave for England."

            "That again?" I groaned. "Jim, I'm not comfortable with the idea." My pinkie nail skimmed around the wine glass in front of me.

            "Why not?"

            "Isn't housing you enough? You want me to drop everything and come work for you?"

            "I need someone like you, Raine."

            "What would I be doing for you?"

            "Little odds and ends to start out with. Nothing major."

            "So I would be your errand boy or your secretary, if I took you up on the offer?"

            "Something like that, yes. But I haven't told you the best part."

            "Oh, geez." I took a sip of the sweet wine.

            "You'd be under my protection."

"Oh, so we're just blowing off the chance that my dad's killer is still after us? We're just going to neglect the fact that if you go out in the open and they find you, it's your fault? We're all Mr. High and Mighty now?"

"Raine, I didn't have the things then like I do now. You wouldn't have to worry about being watched. I know people who can keep you safe."

            "But I've already got Dean for that. You'd offer him a job too, wouldn't you?"

            "Raine, think about it. He doesn't know I'm staying at your house. Could you imagine how well that would go over if I suddenly told him everything?"

            I thought about it. "Hmm, true. So it's just for me?"

            Jim nodded sadly. "I can't go hiring everybody. The world doesn't work like that."

            "I'm sorry, but I can't pick up my life and carry it somewhere, especially if I leave Dean behind. I couldn't do that to him."

            Jim sighed. "Raine, I'm not so sure being around him is good for you."

            "Oh, no, don't start some speech about how you're in love with me and that that is the real reason why you want me to come with you to England," I snapped. "I will leave this restaurant without you if that's what you're about to do."

            "I wasn't going to say anything like that." He shook his head vigorously. "No, I'm just having a hard time believing his story."

            "What?"

            "He came to your door and told you that he was sent there to protect you, yes? You never once thought that perhaps he was the murderer, or perhaps a spy for them?"

            "I did, but he sounded like he was telling the truth. He would have killed me that day if he was my dad's killer or an accomplice of them. Hell, I wouldn't be here right now if he was the killer."

            "Are you sure he's not lying to you?" Jim pressed firmly.

            "How do I know you weren't lying to me? How do I know you aren't right now?"

            "Don't make this about me."

            "Fine. Jim, Dean and I have been together for a few years."

            "Still, everyone has to keep some things to themselves. Life would be pretty boring if everyone knew everything about you."

            I scoffed. "I'm telling you, Jim, Dean is an honest man. He's not lying to me."

            "Ah, but I hear that trace of doubt in your voice." He smirked. "So you still have a little bit of doubt about him."

            I shook my head. "I'm suddenly not hungry. You can find your own way home tonight, James." I slammed my napkin on the table, but before I could make a hasty exit, our food arrived. I scowled at Jim, who looked a bit smug from across the table.

            If it weren't for the fact that my stomach was betraying me, I really would have left Jim to find his way back to my house.

            Conversation didn't continue throughout dinner. As an apology, Jim paid for the entire bill. I was still pretty miffed at him for trying to make up lies about Dean. There was no way Dean was my dad's killer or allied with them in any way. A good friend of my dad's somehow figured I would be in danger, so he sent a bodyguard for me.

            But something troubled me a little bit while thinking about it. How come Spencer wasn't given a bodyguard? If she had been, I would have been the first to know. Was it because she was in the police force that she was left alone? What if she did have one, and she just wasn't telling me? I couldn't remember if I'd told her about Dean and why he'd really been at my house. She only knew him as my boyfriend; we'd conjured up that fake story before we'd really started dating.

            My head spun a little bit. I could tell Jim was trying to fire on all cylinders to pull me with him to England in a few months. He seemed a bit desperate, going so far as trying to turn me against Dean. But it wasn't going to work, nothing he pulled or planned to was. I wasn't going to leave New Jersey, or the United States.

Nothing could make me move.