Jacks had always considered himself more of a sadist than a masochist. He enjoyed inflicting pain, not receiving it. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave the shadows of Evangeline’s bedroom. It wasn’t an obsession. One visit wasn’t an obsession. Jacks just needed to make sure she was still alive. That she wasn’t bleeding. In danger. Unhappy. Cold. She was safe in her bed. She’d be even safer when he left her. But he was too selfish to leave just yet. He leaned against the bedpost and watched as she slept. He’d never understood why someone would watch another person sleep … until her.
