Read Online If Tomorrow Never Comes by Elizabeth Lowe - Free Book Online

this is over.”   To her utter shock he added, “Now tell me what
you want to eat, dammit.”

 
    The
mention of food made Jordan's stomach grumble.   “Pizza,” rolled off her tongue before giving any conscious thought as to
what she wanted, “with peppers, onions, and mushrooms.”

 
    “And,
a tooth brush if you intend to eat such garbage,” Jake, reiterated, her request
reminding him how much he detested pizza.

 
    A
half hour later, sitting across from Jordan, Jake watched in total amazement as
she unabashedly plunged right in, slopping sauce on her lap, nosily devouring
most of the pizza along with a half litter of pop, her eyes closing tight as
she licked fingers in ecstasy.   Never had
he seen a human eat like a wild animal, as if she may never eat again, as if
the horrid stuff she was consuming was caviar.    Angering him more, while she chewed and her tongue licked at traces of
sauce, he felt twinges of arousal.   

 
    Mulling
over his plans to get Scorpio abated the anger and managed to keep his mind off
the creature becoming all too fascinating sitting across from him.   Simple, Jake thought, rather than risk one of
his men he'd allow Jordan to do the dirty work.   Under his surveillance, she’d, return to her world at night, continue to
receive the packages, and make deliveries.   Meanwhile he’d organize another raid.  

 
    Stomach
hurting from all she consumed, striking a melodramatic pose, Jordan sat
wide-eyed trying to control the odd sensation flurrying in her
mid-section.   Jake had just finished
relaying his plans ending by repeating the warning he’d issued earlier.   If she refused to cooperate, she’d be found
in some alley, Margaret or no Margaret.   This time the look in his eyes' said, he was serious.

 
    Wondering
why he suddenly felt sleepy, Jake glanced at his watch.   It was two a.m.    Attempting to fight off the luxury, he
returned Jordan to the bedroom convinced he would be fine if he rested his eyes
for a little while.

 
    Jordan
ate so much it hurt to walk.   Lethargy
induced by an over loaded digestive system took its toll.   Dutifully, she sat on the floor and leaned
against the mattress, her eyes flaring wide in disbelief when Jake neglected to
handcuff her.    Instead, he sat in the
lawn chair a few feet away gripping a gun placed on his lap.   Weapon or not, Jordan patiently waited for
him to close his eyes for more than a few seconds.

 
    Jordan
was the one who slept fitfully while Jake scrutinized her facial contortions,
listened to her whines, her mumbling, and watched her tremble.   There were no tears, yet he heard her shallow
breathing, saw her chest rise and lower rapidly as though she were sobbing
inwardly behavior that made him imagine the horrible things she must have
endured.

 
    Jordan's
obvious discomfort brought on a barrage of childhood memories.   The years following the death of his mother
when shuffled from one foster home to another.   A hit and run driver took her life on her way home from work.   For the billionth time, Jake vividly
remembered waiting day after day never leaving the apartment wondering, where she
was, if she'd ever return.   A week later,
starving and frightened he gave himself up to grief.   Neighbors who heard his cries came to his
rescue.

 
    Jake
knew nothing about his father his mother never spoke of him or of any other
relatives.   At the age of four, he
learned what it was like to be, alone, unloved, and unwanted, physically and
verbally abused by foster parents.   Such
was the course of his life until he ran away at fourteen. The summer and fall,
spent wandering the streets of Chicago sleeping in parks, under porches, in
garages, stealing food to survive?    That
winter, a priest found him lying beneath a bridge almost frozen to death.  

 
    Father
Mahoney promised to provide shelter, food and odd jobs as long as he attended
school.   Due to Father Mahoney's age and
physical