Rated: PG for moderately strong language

"Oh…my…God," Brenda breathed, "you’re Jasper Jacks!"

Her eyes were wide, and he could now see clearly that they were a beautiful shade of brown. Almost like soft brown kid gloves. Her hair looked thick and soft, the kind a man could lose his hands in and never care.

They stood transfixed for a moment, but then Brenda’s adrenaline kicked in. She turned to run from the room, but he got there in a split second and grabbed her from behind. One hand clamped around her waist like a steel band, and the other hand went across her mouth.

Brenda struggled and kicked, but to no avail. He was so much bigger than she was. He easily held her against his chest while her legs flailed in the air. She felt his strong, muscled body against hers, and finally she ran out of energy and breath. The hand he had over her mouth was almost cutting off the air to her nose as well.

They stood, breathing hard the both of them, right outside the swinging door of her kitchen, just barely inside her living room. Jax had to catch his breath before he could speak.

"Look, lady, I don’t want to hurt you, OK? Just quiet down and I’ll let you go. No sudden moves, all right?"

Brenda couldn’t turn back to face him, but she tried to nod a little so that he understood. She felt his grip relax just a bit, but she was still effectively his prisoner. He released the hand from her mouth, but still kept her pinned to him.

"How did you know who I was?" he asked quietly.

Brenda took big gulps of air before answering. "I saw your picture on the television this morning. It’s all over the news – they’re saying you’re armed and dangerous."

She felt his grip relax a little more. "I don’t know about that. What I DO know is that I’m hungry. I only came in here to find some food, and then get out. Obviously, I can’t do that now." His breathing had just about returned to normal. "All right, lady, I’m going to let you go now. Just don’t run away from me again, OK? I have to figure out what to do."

Brenda nodded her agreement with what he was saying, but she had her fingers crossed the whole time. {If he thinks I’m stupid enough to sit here and wait for him to kill me, he’s not as bright as they’re all saying on TV. He killed his partner. I’m not gonna stick around just to see if he puts me on his Internet Buddy List.}

Jax dropped the arm that was holding her around the waist, and Brenda doubled over, as if she were still catching her breath. Jax ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, trying not to be distracted by the close-up view of her derriere that was being presented to him so temptingly. Just as he momentarily looked away, trying to think of how to handle this newest complication, the complication took off running for the open front door.

Brenda heard his expletive, and felt the floor of the cottage shake with his footsteps as he caught up to her easily. They had both reached the landing, just feet from the front door, when Jax tackled her to the ground. Brenda landed on her back, with Jax sprawling on top of her. His large size and the strength of his tackle knocked the wind out of her, and she gasped for breath. Still, she was afraid that if she didn’t try to get away, she would never live to see another sunrise.

She scratched, kicked, and even tried to bite him as he tried to catch her swinging arms and pin her legs to the floor with his. "D*mnit, quit fighting me!" he yelled, but she ignored him in her panic. She continued to struggle, but she was rapidly losing steam. She managed to free one hand to scratch him on the face.

"Ouch! I said hold still, d*mnit! You ARE a hellcat!" he exclaimed. He finally managed to secure her legs with one of his, and pulled both of her hands over her head and pinned them to the floor with his. They were both gasping for breath, and she noticed with some satisfaction that a thin trickle of blood was now running down the side of his cheek.

{Don’t cry, Brenda. Remember your pride. Don’t let him see you cry.} Brenda tried valiantly to control her emotions, but she was terrified. Tears began to well up in her eyes. "Please… please let me go," she whispered.

{Oh, lady, please don’t cry. This is so hard as it is. Don’t turn on the waterworks.} "I can’t."

"Please, I promise I won’t tell anyone. You can just take all the food you want out of the refrigerator and leave. I won’t tell a soul."

Jax snickered, and it scared her. "You promised you wouldn’t make any fast moves, either."

"I was scared. You frightened me. Please, let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone you were here." She shifted her weight a little and tried to move her hands. "You’re hurting me." All at once, her eyes flashed at him through the tears that almost were spilling out. "YOU said you wouldn’t hurt me, too. So we’re even!"

Jax had to admire her spirit. He smiled, and although Brenda’s heart was still racing in fear, a funny feeling ran through her. "Please, let me up. You’re too heavy and I can’t breathe." She was still gasping for air.

Jax looked at her once again, and then suddenly he rolled off of her with the agility of a cat and pulled her to her feet. He kept both of her wrists manacled in his, and pulled her over the couch. He nodded his head that he wanted her to sit, and then pulled her down to sit next to him, never letting go of her hands.

As she sat, he saw her taking more even, steady breaths, and then she tried to move one hand up to her face to push back the hair that had escaped her ponytail. She was looking down at her lap, but when he still held the hand that went to her cheek, she looked up at him. "Please." It was his undoing. He gently let go of her one hand, and he saw it tremble as it pushed the hair back and wiped her eyes.

{Well, Jasper, Lady Jane would be so proud to see you now. Terrorizing women. What an accomplishment in life.}

He still had one hand firmly in his grasp as he tried to shake the thought of his mother’s disapproval. "I didn’t see your car outside. Where is it?"

Brenda sniffed. "I don’t have a car. I mean, I do have a car, but it’s not here. It’s in the shop. See, it needed this transmission work done and I knew it was going to take a while, but the garage couldn’t take it last week, and I knew I wouldn’t need…" Brenda was about to go on for several more sentences, telling him about her clutch and the faulty wiper knob and the soft drink tray that wouldn’t pop out either, when Jax put up his free hand.

"OK, lady! I get the picture!" He ran his hand through his hair. "Geez, can’t you answer a question with a simple yes or no?" He looked around her living room. "So, you’re telling me that a single woman like you is living way out here, by yourself, with no car?"

"How do you know I live by myself?" she asked, trying to sound brave.

He smirked. "I only had to take one look at your furniture, lady. No guy worth his salt would live in a frilly place like this." His sarcasm stung her, and he saw her face growing red with anger. "Besides," he continued, "there’s no beer in the refrigerator."

"Well, Mr. Jasper Jacks, fugitive-from-justice, they neglected to mention on the TV just what a chauvinist pig you are! I bet you think that women were just put on this earth to have children, too! And I don’t suppose that you believe in women’s rights, either!" She suddenly realized that she was arguing about women’s rights with a man who might kill her just for looking at him cross-eyed. "Besides, my boyfriend prefers wine to beer," she added quietly.

Instead, Jax surprised her. "Good! After listening to you drone on, I could use a drink right about now!" He stood up and pulled her up with him, and looked back at the open front door. "But first, let’s remedy this situation. Don’t want any wild animals coming in your cozy little cottage, do we?"

"Other than you, you mean?" she spit back. {God, the woman’s got spirit. If we only were in another time and place….}

He pulled her with him to close and lock the front door, making sure to throw the dead bolt. Then, he turned to head toward the kitchen, pulling him with her until they stood in front of the refrigerator. "Can you cook?"

Brenda looked him in the eye. She wasn’t sure where her bravado was coming from, but she wasn’t about to grovel to this man. She remembered reading articles that suggested that a victim should try to reason sensibly with an attacker, but for some reason, she felt this man was different. "No!" His eyes widened. "I guess that surprises you, Mr. Insensitive Pig. You probably think all women should know how to cook and all men should just be able to sit back and be waited…" Jax put his hands on his hips and gave her a pained look, so she stopped short. "My boyfriend always does all the cooking," she finished quietly.

Jax nodded. "I see. Well, that certainly explains the large amount of leftovers. Well then, if you can’t cook, can you at least re-heat adequately?" He inclined his head toward the microwave oven, and her eyes flashed with fire.

She walked over to the refrigerator and yanked it open with a vengeance. She grabbed several covered dishes and set them down on the counter with a loud bang. "Do you have a preference, pig?" She glared at him, and then began to uncover the dishes and spoon the food into various bowls.

Jax walked around the kitchen while she worked, carefully observing the placement of windows and doors. He went to the back door and threw the dead bolt on it, too. She jumped at the sound, glancing at the police-issue pistol he wore at his waist. He watched her for a few seconds, and saw her hands were still shaking, although he wasn’t sure if it was in fear or in anger at his anti-feminist sensibilities. He lounged against a kitchen counter.

"So…what’s your name?"

Brenda turned from the micro-wave. "Why do you want to know -- so you can engrave it on my tombstone when you kill me?"

Jax threw back the cocky stare. "No, I just thought it might be a pleasant change from Insensitive Pig and Loudmouth Hellcat, but we can go back to those, if you want!" He watched her face fall, and she went to get some plates out of the cupboard.

She spoke quietly, and turned to look at him. "My name is Brenda. Brenda Barrett." Then the spitfire returned, to his surprised delight. "But didn’t you recognize me before this?"

He remained droll. "Why, are you wanted for murder, too?"

She took the food out of the microwave. "No. I just mean I thought you might recognize my face because I’m a model." She looked for his enlightenment, but it didn’t appear. "You know, in magazines." Still no response. She sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Brenda Barrett, the face of Deception. Ring a bell?"

He came over to take the plates from her. "Nope. Never heard of you."

She walked to the table and sat down. "Well, I AM a model. I’ve done quite a few successful campaigns for the perfume label, Deception." An idea occurred to her as he stood next to her at the table, and she looked up at him. "In fact, I’m a very busy model. I have photo shoots this week. Why, my boss Lucy will be calling here any minute to find out why I’m not there today. Everyone will be worried about me and will probably come out here to see…"

He put his finger to her lips, bending down to stare into her eyes. "Miss Barrett, you may be the "face of Deception," but you are a lousy liar. Don’t try to put one over on me. I’ve been lied to by the best, and I can spot a bluff at ten paces." His face was only inches from hers, and brown eyes locked with blue ones fiercely. It seemed like an electric current flowed between them, and it rattled Jax badly. He cleared his throat, and straightened up to walk over to his chair. "Now, let’s eat some of this food while it’s hot."

They ate in silence, Jax devouring everything on his plate. Brenda looked up every now and then to sneak a glance at him. He had the bluest eyes she had ever seen, and his hair was blonde, streaked with highlights of sunlight. He had a cleft in his chin that most women probably adored. Disturbingly, she found herself comparing him to Sonny. They were like night and day, literally. Sonny’s features were dark and swarthy. This man’s were light and chiseled. She remembered the feeling of being held against his strong chest. Although Sonny was muscular, his chest was not nearly as broad as this man’s. At that moment, Jax looked up at her, and she quickly stared back down at her food, not wanting him to catch her looking.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she lied, and let out a long breath. "I just don’t seem to be very hungry." At his puzzled look, she continued. "I had a big breakfast, and I really AM a model. We don’t eat much – the requirements of fashion, you see."

Jax nodded slowly. "Well then, I’ll take yours if you don’t want it." She pushed the plate over to him, and he made quick work of emptying it.

When he had finally finished, she began to clear the dishes, thankful to have something to do. As she cleaned up, he roamed the kitchen again, occasionally pulling back a curtain to look outside. She was just about finished when she felt his eyes boring into her back again. She tried to adopt a lightness in her voice.

"Well, now, you’ve been fed, so I guess you’ll be ready to go," she said, turning to him and smiling. "I can’t say it’s been fun, but … it’s been different." He looked at her in amazement, so she tried to be clearer. "You said you were hungry. You ate. Now you’re not hungry anymore, so you can go. So….. ‘bye!"

His low chuckle chilled her blood. "And just how do you think I would be going anywhere? You don’t have a car, remember?"

"Can’t you walk? That’s how you got here, isn’t it?"

Jax walked over to stand closer to her. "Ms. Barrett, there is a very determined group of policemen out there, trying their best to kill me. They have hunting dogs to track my scent. I lost them today by going through a stream, but making my way on foot won’t get me anywhere near where I want to go."

She lit up with an idea. "You can take my horse! That would be faster than walking!"

He laughed out loud in derision. "Your horse! Oh, yeah, that would be rich! I can just see me, trotting my way down the streets of Port Charles to make my clandestine escape. Nobody would ever notice me doing that!"

Tears began to gather again. "Well, you can’t stay here!"

"And that would be because…"

"You’re a murderer!" she blurted, and when she saw his eyes go a steely blue/gray, she regretted the words mightily.

"I was framed," he said soberly. "I never killed my partner. But we don’t have time to discuss that. Right now, I just want to take a shower and get rid of some of this filth. I had to sleep on the ground last night, and my Boy Scout days are definitely over."

Brenda turned back to the sink. This was rapidly turning into a nightmare, and she wished she could just wake up. As she prepared to face her fate, she noticed the dishes drying in the rack. A small paring knife was mixed with the rest of the knives and forks. Although she doubted that she could ever sink it into human flesh, she might be able to bluff her way out of a bad situation with it, or use it to defend herself if need be. She quietly moved her hand to grab it as he was still looking out a window, and she palmed it when she turned back to face him.

"So," he asked, now facing her, "which way to the bathroom?"

"Upstairs, to the right," she answered, thankful for her ace in the hole. But to her surprise, instead of heading out of the kitchen, he came to stand inches in front of her.

"Then let’s go," he replied somberly. "But first, I need you to give me the knife."

Her heart sank. "What knife?" she asked shakily.

His face was deadly serious. "The one you just pinched off the dish rack." As she tried to keep a straight face, he sighed. "You must remember, Miss Barrett, I’m a trained officer of the law. I can spot a concealed weapon at 40 paces." His eyes became that hard, blue/gray that looked right through her. He extended his arms to put one hand on each side of her, resting on the counter behind her, effectively trapping her between his arms. It brought his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath. "So… do you want to give it to me, or do you want me to find it and take it away from you?"

Brenda continued to stare into those eyes, and she had to remind herself to breathe. She slowly took her right hand, reached into her pocket, and pulled out the knife, extending it to him handle first. He cracked just the hint of a triumphant smile, and took it with his left and placed it on the counter without taking his gaze from her. "Now – I think we understand each other. Don’t ever do that again," he said in a clipped tone.

She nodded silently. He grabbed her right hand with his left, and pulled her from the kitchen, turning off the lights as he went. "Mr. Jacks, where are we…" she tried to talk, but he was half dragging her towards the stairs. He stopped at the foot of them.

"I told you – I’ve been outside for more than 24 hours. I need a shower. You said the bathroom is upstairs. Are you coming, or do I need to carry you?" She quickly shook her head, indicating her cooperation, and he turned to pull her with him. But then, he stopped to look back at her. "Oh, and the name is just Jax – with an "x." Mr. Jacks is my father." With that clarification, he returned to his objective – a shower.

He took Brenda up the stairs and they ended up in her bedroom. He grunted in disgust. "More frills. Must be some boyfriend." He looked around, taking stock of the room. "Where’s the bathrooom?"

Brenda inclined her head, her right wrist still shackled by his hand. "There’s a bath off my room, there, and there’s another bathroom in the hall, but there’s no shower in that one."

Jax took stock. "OK, then this one it is." As Brenda’s eyes got wide, he started to move again.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, fear beginning to finally take hold.

"Well, darling," he said sarcastically, "since I’m pretty sure you’re not quite ready to share the facilities with me, and we both know I can’t trust you to stay put voluntarily…" his voice trailed off, and a look of sheer terror crossed Brenda’s face. He saw it, and it hurt him to have to treat her this way, but he was tired and dirty, and he had no choice.

Just as Brenda was about to scream her lungs out and begin fighting him off, she felt him push her backwards into the walk-in closet. "Are you claustrophobic?" he asked quickly.

"I’m not sure," she answered, only to have the closet door slam in her face. "Jax! You can’t do this!"

"I can and I have, hellcat," he replied, and she heard the lock click into place from the outside. She began pounding on the door in earnest.

"Jax, let me out! I promise I’ll be good! I won’t run again! Jax!" Her screams met with no response. "You insensitive pig!!!" She kept pounding and screaming, but she couldn’t hear anything. What if he had changed his mind, and had decided to take the horse and leave after all? What if he just locked her in and left? She remembered that Sonny said he would send Jason to check on her, but how many days would that take? How long could she survive without food and water?

The tears began to fall in earnest now, and gave way to wrenching sobs. She found the light inside the closet and turned it on, and that gave her some comfort. Then, as she tried to quiet herself, she heard the sounds of the shower running. At least he was doing as he said, and he hadn’t left the house. She cursed herself for not being able to get the knife out of the kitchen. If she had it now, she might have been able to jimmy the lock while he showered and get out and escape before he found out.

Finally, tired and drained, she sat down on a stack of shoe boxes and put her head in her hands. Her sobs faded to quiet hiccups. She still was sitting there when she heard the lock click again, and Jax appeared in the doorway. His hair was still wet, and he had put his jeans back on again, but his shirt was unbuttoned. Apparently, he had seen fit to use one of the disposable razors she kept in the bathroom for times when Sonny stayed over, since his face was red and cleanly shaven. He was rubbing his chin when he found her.

His heart dropped when he saw her huddled form and tear-stained cheeks. {This whole thing wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t tried to be a hero, Jax. If you just had let the authorities find out who killed Jerry and not gone pell-mell into it alone, you wouldn’t be in the middle of a murder frame and have to resort to terrifying innocent women.} He extended a wary hand to her, helping her up from her crouched position on the floor.

"Bathroom’s free if you need to use it," he said quietly.

She walked regally out of the closet, and he took hope in the fact that her spirit hadn’t been dampened. "Are you sure you trust me in there by myself?" she said sarcastically.

He used the towel he still held to rub his hair briskly. "Yep. No windows, and I disconnected the phone. Take all the time you want, since I know most women do."

She bristled at the chauvinistic remark, but then realized he had said it to purposely annoy her. She walked into the bathroom, and only when she closed the door behind her did she let her breath out and sag against the doorframe. She splashed water on her face and tried to perform a quick clean-up, but her hands were still shaking and the soapy water burned the cuts on her hands. She hadn’t realized that she had been pounding that hard on the closet door. She briefly considered whether or not to change into her nightgown, but she didn’t want to provide him with any provocation, so she stayed in her shorts and shirt.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she found Jax already in her bed and all the lights out except for a small table lamp next to the bed. "Coming?" he asked.

"You’ve got to be joking," she said in a low voice.

"As I’ve already said, Brenda, you’ve shown that you can’t be trusted to share my company willingly. So for tonight, we share the bed."

She walked over to it slowly, like a lamb to the slaughter. As she sat down with her back to him, she heard his voice behind her. "You really don’t need to worry, Miss Barrett. I’m accused of murder – not rape. I’ve never forced a woman to accept my affections in my life, and I’m not about to start." She kicked off her shoes and lay back in the bed, pulling the sheet up to her chin. His presence next to her was warm and disturbing. She could feel him watching her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look into his eyes. Then she heard his low chuckle.

"Besides, when I make love to a woman, I prefer her to be soft and warm and willing," he said softly. Brenda looked into his eyes, and immediately realized it was a mistake. They burned her with their intensity. She knew she had to come back with some kind of retort to lighten the moment.

"And I take it that once you begin to exercise your great prowess in lovemaking, they all turn to quivering masses of desire?" she tried to squeak out with sarcasm.

"Would you like a list of references?" he quipped, and she wanted to slap his arrogant face. But she exercised restraint, and instead rolled over in a huff to turn out the light. She felt his hand on her arm.

"I’m dead tired, and this bed is softer than anything I think I’ve ever felt. And since I’m such a heavy sleeper and I don’t trust you that much, Miss Barrett…" he let the sentence dangle. Jax took his belt and threaded it through the belt loop on her shorts, connecting it back through the belt loop on his jeans.

Brenda sucked in her breath, feeling his presence so close to her. She turned on her side so that she wouldn’t have to look at him, but she could still feel him pressed up against her back. She turned out the light, and heard his voice in the darkness.

"Good night, hellcat."

She almost felt him smile. "Insensitive pig," she replied.

To be continued…..