Jack counted to one hundred and fifty-three in the limo's backseat. Traffic seemed against him, the long snake of red lights mocking his urgency to see Solana. Touch her. Talk to her.

He glanced at his phone, scrolling through the string of unanswered texts to her in reverse order:

Do you want to order in dinner?

In the car

Meeting finished. Heading to you.

My fingers miss you. Other parts too.

The last text he'd eked out during the mid-meeting coffee break while pretending to listen to a cocky sales manager nattering away about an idea to increase the profit margin. Since exiting the elevator where he left Solana, a bar pressed against his chest. With each passing hour, weights were added to the barbell until it felt impossible to breathe in the stuffy room. He'd stroked the cover of his phone as if rubbing the hard plastic might elicit a response, like conjuring a gene from a bottle.

"Is there another route?" He leaned toward his driver.

George's dismayed gaze found his in the rear-view mirror. "Sorry, Sir. A police investigation shut down Figueroa and 5th. They're redirecting everyone."

Jack suppressed a growl and slumped back in the seat. The moment the chairman called the shareholder session adjourned, he'd flown out of the room, texting Solana on the way to the parking garage. But he'd known by the angle of the sun gridlock was in his future. If only there was a helicopter landing pad near Ximena's house.

He pulled at his tie, the material suddenly too tight around his neck. Why hadn't Solana answered him?

The pad of his finger halted at the last text from her.

There's a surprise waiting on your desk.

When she'd typed that text, she couldn't have meant the blackmail attempt. No. He was missing something. Between sending her last text and him walking into his office earlier, Solana's attitude had changed from flirty to fearful. The shared look between her and Wolfe held significance. Jack flipped to his second in command's number and dialed.

"Are we celebrating?" The buoyancy in Wolfe's tone scraped against the discs weighing down on Jack. "The board were beaming at the end, bonus dollar signs in their eyes."

Right. Money. Everything revolved around profit with Wolfe. The man was just a different shade of his uncle.

Jack unthread his tie. "What were you and Solana discussing in my office?" The pressure on his Adam's apple didn't ease.

"Sorry?"

"In my office earlier. You and Solana were obviously talking about something. Tell me."

"You know this. The video of you and her..." Wolfe cleared his throat. "I was pointing out the consequences of her dragging you into situations where you're susceptible to such deplorable people attacking you. How it affects your reputation."

"Me? You mean Blackhorne and Caldwell." Jack undid the top button of his shirt.

Wolfe's voice dropped to a growl. "You are Blackhorne and Caldwell. Or has all the blood rushing to your dick lately caused you to forget that?"

The plastic cover on Jack's phone creaked under his grip. "How can I ever forget when you constantly remind me? What exactly did you say to her?"

The click of a turn signal filled the pause, echoing the beating of his heart. Wolfe hesitating was never a good indication. "I explained the implications of her...background and its impact to your—"

"Reputation." Jack spit the foul word. "Define implications."

"Really? Do we have to do this?"

"Yes."

"Fine. I pointed out that the sex tape, while manageable, would only be the tip of the iceberg. Her previous relationships were of the ilk to try to profit if she continued in this relationship."

Continued?

The red veil slammed down over his vision and the pounding in his ears downed out whatever came out of Wolfe's mouth next. Jack stabbed at the red x, ending the call, and immediately dialed Solana.

He begged her to pick up, but the phone rang and rang. Her cheerful voice carved a hole in his chest. "You missed me. Leave a message and I might call you back."

"Sol. Don't listen to Wolfe." Did he sound desperate? "The old man's stuck in the dark ages. Call me back. You're..." Yes, he did and Jack didn't care. Vulnerable, that's what she'd said. He'd opened up to Anderson. He could do the same with her. He pushed past the lump in his throat. "... scaring me."

The admission hung in the air before him. He craved her recognition of the revelation. Resisting the urge to call her again, he closed his eyes and recalled her smile, latching onto his personal ray of sunshine. He held on to the memory with all his might.

The twenty-minute drive took over an hour and when the limo finally pulled onto Ximena's street, Jack had stripped off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. George barely hit the brakes before Jack shoved open the car door. He bolted across the lawn, took two steps at a time to get to the porch, and banged on the door.

The worn wood mocked him with its stillness.

"Sol." Maybe she was asleep? He batted away the foolish thought. Along with the other excuses he'd tried to convince himself were reasons she wasn't texting him. Her phone ran out of juice. She was taking a long bath. She'd fallen and hit her head. The last one had him peering through the bay window. Inside the colourful living room sat silent, void of the life he was used to seeing there. Not knowing what to do, he slammed his palm against the wooden door again and again.

"Breaking the door won't help." Jack whipped around to find Abraham on the front lawn in his typical white T-shirt and flip-flops. "She's not there."

A grey veil drained the colour from Jack's world and the dark hole in his heart flexed, mocked him with a told you so. He ignored the whiny voice. "Where is she?"

"Gone."

Only because he was important to Solana did Jack tolerate his insolent attitude. With a deep breath, Jack tried a different tactic. "When will she be back?"

Abraham shrugged. "That's the billion-dollar question." He crossed his arms. "If she ever comes back."

Jack ignored the flare of fear that shot up his spine and straightened his shoulders. This was a petty attempt by Abraham to irritate him, intimidate him. Even though the murky gap beneath his breastbone widened as the reality of the situation knock against the defences he'd built, threatening to cave in.

He abandoned his attempts at the door and invaded Abraham's space. "This isn't time for games. What's going on?"

"Face it, man." The corner of Abraham's mouth twitched. "She doesn't want to see you anymore."

Though not true, the words hit him like hot pokers on his knees, his gut, his ribs. The wall of hope creaked and moaned against the rising tide of doubt. The sorry pit he'd let Solana see laughed at him for believing any woman would want to be with him for more than a week. Afterall, his uncle had had to pay for a woman to marry him. Still, he'd thought, no felt, Solana understood him like no other. Or at least she'd tried like no other. There had to be another explanation. "Liar."

"She was in tears. Because of you." Abraham pushed at Jack's torso, soulless eyes boring into him. "Said you were too much. She had to get away." Another push against Jack's chest and he took a step back. "Couldn't leave fast enough. Packed her bags, wrote a goodbye note to Mrs. Moreno and gave me a message to give to you if you came around."

There was something wrong with his vision. Abraham's face had started to blur. "What message?"

"Don't look for her. She doesn't want to see you ever again."

He wanted to protest, to tell Abraham she'd never say that, but the words lodged in his windpipe, obstructed by the gob of bile blocking oxygen to his lungs. An incessant buzzing in his head disorientated him, mixing with the yawning voice cackled from the black gash where his heart had only recently taken up residence. Whispers of, you always knew she'd leave, they all leave, sliced away at the remaining supports until the last legs of hope bent and crumbled.

Abraham's fingers clutched at Jack's shirt, yanking him forward. "What did you do to her?"

Of course, he was the villain. The bad boy everyone used as an excuse for their behaviour. It didn't matter what he did or how he felt. Reputation always preceded him. People made assumptions. They assumed he was just like his uncle, so he'd played that role. No one bothered to look beyond the mask.

Except her.

A bone-shaking punch landed on Jack's chin. Pain radiated along his jaw, drowning out the shredding of his internal organs. Abraham spewed a torrent of curses in two languages in between shouts of "Did you hurt her?" and "You don't deserve her." His fist made contact again and Jack welcomed it. Soaked up the violence, the spasm of discomfort.

He closed his eyes, anticipating the next blast. No desire to fight back, willing to take his punishment for the crime of he didn't know what. It didn't matter. Anything to distract from the injuries inflicted on his soul by Solana's disappearance.

The next hit didn't come.

Jack opened his eyes to find Abraham on the grass, rubbing his jaw. George stood shoulder to shoulder to Jack, shaking his hand in the air like he'd just burnt his fingers. "Stay down." He glared at his opponent.

A hand landed on Jack's shoulder. "You alright sir." The snicker flew from Jack's damaged mouth. He was anything but alright. "Let's get you home. Maybe Ms. Wilde is at your apartment."

The sizzle of promise burned hot and sharp in his brain, then exploded like fireworks, fading into nothingness. Solana wouldn't be at his apartment. Or his office. She was gone. No. She'd left. Her desire was so intense she'd walked away from Ximena, Luc, even Abraham. All because she didn't want to be around him. Hope was officially banished from Jack's repertoire, acknowledging George was pacifying him in an attempt to get Jack away from further damage by Abraham. He allowed himself to be led, on wobbly legs, to the limo. Like a doting father attending to his toddler, George ensconced him in the backseat, softly closing the door.

Jack sank into the dark leather, letting the void of the darkened interior suffocate him. His jaw throbbed in sync with the pitch-black wound consuming the soft, useless organ he'd only just begun to feel. A palm whacked against the thick glass window and Jack ignored Abraham's bellow. "Stay away from her."

The man's threat was empty as far as Jack was concerned. As the cavern in his core gushed blood, he knew he wouldn't go after Solana. The ripple of agony caused him to crumple forward. He'd learned his lesson. Love made you weak.

Hello friends. D L. here. I apologize for my absence. A case of Life Interuptus. But I hope to be back on track now. That means new chapters every Friday as promised.

Can you tell I was feeling really bad for Jack in this chapter?

If you liked the emotions here, please hit that star button. I'm working on this skill and would love to know I'm on the right track.