“What the hell?” He pushed himself off her so hard she banged her head on the headboard. His eyes were wild, and the energy surging through him from the drugs could spur him into violence with superhuman strength.
“That hurt. You jerk. Leave me alone,” she shrieked.
“I’m out of here.” He left the bed and whirled toward the greenhouse door.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Larry held the gun. “You go back there and fucking rape the whore. Do it.”
“I will not hurt Avery.” Jason lowered himself like a raging bull and bunched his fists. “Shoot me, but I will always protect her.”
“This isn’t what you’re supposed to do,” Larry shouted, holding Jason off with the gun. “Avery, you said he promised to cooperate.”
“That was before you injected him with meth,” Avery said. “I can’t control him. You saw him throw me around.”
“Tell him to fuck you. Dammit. My dad can’t get off unless you complete a sex act. Suck Jason off or shove a dildo up his butt. Tatiana, where the hell are you? We need the sex toys.”
“Larry, you have to calm down.” Avery approached the two men who were squared off against each other. “I’m trying to put on a show for you guys, but you know what meth does to a guy. Especially someone who fucking never took it before. Let him go. I’ll do someone else.”
“The hell you will.” Jason whirled around and grabbed Avery by the shoulders. “I’m getting you out of here before we end up like Garm and Longshanks.”
“Oh, no, you two aren’t going anywhere until you finish the show,” the professor’s shrill voice rose from behind the one-way mirror. “We only let your friends go after they performed.”
“You mean they had sex, man to man?” Jason asked, looking disgusted.
“All ways, every hole,” Larry said in a bragging voice. “That was some show.”
“They kept it up for hours,” Orson said. “I still watch the video.”
“Then why don’t you watch it now?” Avery asked. “I’m not in the mood anymore. Jason is disgusting. He’s high as a fucking kite.”
“Me? Disgusting? What about you?” Jason plopped on the bed and snarled at her. “Did you fuck the professor? Is that how you got started?”
Avery cocked her fist back and punched him square in the jaw. “How dare you. How fucking dare you?”
The whirring of the wheelchair announced Orson’s presence. He’d zipped himself up and bumped himself to the foot of the bed.
“Well? Avery,” Jason demanded. “Was the old geezer your first?”
“Tell him, Avery.” The professor wagged his finger at Avery as if she were a very naughty girl. “I never touched you. I only watched. I always watched.”
“Watched who?” Jason turned his attention to the professor. Even Larry lowered the gun and stared at his father.
“No one,” Avery shrieked. “Nothing happened.”
“Someone had sex with you the first time. Who?” Jason’s eyes were wild, but focused accusingly on her.
“It wasn’t Professor Leach,” Avery said. “It’s nobody.”
“Then why are they holding it over you?” Jason asked. “It has to be one of them. I vote for the professor. He raped you, didn’t he?”
“I most certainly did not. I have been protecting you, my dear.” Orson placed his sticky hand on Avery’s arm. It was all she could do not to shriek with revulsion. “If I didn’t hold it over him on your behalf, he would have trafficked you to his colleagues.”
“Who?” both Jason and Larry asked.
Orson grinned, the closemouthed way a priest would while giving the benediction. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? I protect you and your reputation, and you do private shows for me. I’m disappointed this year. You didn’t decorate your model, and he can’t get it up for you.”
“That’s a lie,” Jason growled. He pointed at the professor, causing Larry to wave the gun. “I’m arresting you. Both of you for the murders of Garm Guillory and Hugh Longshanks.”
“For what? They came to a party and got high. Is it my fault they kept going and going until they overdosed?”
“It’s still suspicious as hell,” Jason said. “I’m sure I can get the charges to stick.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Larry argued. “We have video of the two of you. You admitted to being high on meth.”
“You injected me.” Jason’s voice was shaking.
“I can edit the video.” Larry laughed. “Stop wasting time. The meth high isn’t going to last forever, and my dad wants to see you make love to her.”
He made air quotes around the words “make love” and said it in a squeaky, mocking voice, then added, “Except we’ll claim you raped Avery, and that is the reason you won’t be telling a soul about this little adventure.”
“Get on with it.” The professor clapped his hands. “You two voluntarily came to my house. You signed a waiver. Photos and videos were taken of you taking drugs. You signed away your right to litigation. I never laid a hand on you, only myself.”
“I never signed away my rights when I was fourteen,” Avery said, surprising herself with her boldness. “You claim to have photos and videos from then too, but you know what? I think you’re bluffing.”
Beside her, she could feel anger boiling in every one of Jason’s blood cells. His muscles hardened, and he lunged toward the professor.
“Don’t.” Avery restrained him. “He’s got a gun on you.”
“I don’t care. He can’t hold it over you. You were only fourteen.”
“You’re like my baby girl,” Orson taunted while Larry stood behind him, holding a pistol. “Every year, I take pictures and videos. Starting when you were buck naked as a newborn.”
“My mom wouldn’t have let you,” Avery protested, although she honestly couldn’t be sure. Her mother was the naïve type who believed there was a spark of divinity in each person.
“I’m your Uncle Orson,” the professor said in a sing-song voice. “You kids used to come to my swimming pool. You didn’t think I had peepholes in the cabana?”
“I could get you for child pornography,” Jason fumed. “Where are the pictures?”
“In the same cloud I upload all of my Avery videos. Somewhere secret where I can enjoy them. Now, I’m going back behind the screen, and you two are going to perform for me. See how you like fucking with a gun at your back.” Orson unzipped his pants and stroked his penis.
“I’m Superman!” Jason kicked the gun from Larry’s hand, and Avery slapped her hand over the wheelchair’s remote-control panel. She twisted the joystick like it was the professor’s tiny penis and broke it.
Meanwhile, Jason cuffed Larry with his tie.
“Tatiana,” Avery reminded. “Where is she? We have to get by her.”
“Let me restrain these two first. Sorry, Professor.” Jason grabbed a roll of duct tape from one of the plant benches and tied the professor’s hands, leaving his fly open and his flaccid penis in full view.
Avery made quick work of disconnecting the power from the professor’s voice activated virtual assistant. She slipped Jason’s discarded suit jacket over her swimsuit and picked up Larry’s gun.
“Let’s get out of here before Tatiana comes back.” Jason steered her around father and son. He’d put duct tape on Larry’s mouth, but the professor kept lobbing threats at them.
“You’re not going to get away with this. I’ll prosecute you for assault and robbery,” the professor shouted.
“Actually, your goose is cooked,” Jason said. “We have confessions of the murders, child pornography on the cloud, and extortion of someone important.”
“Avery, don’t listen to him,” the professor said. “Be a good girl and untie me. Remember, I’m the only one holding on to your dirty little secret.”
Avery’s head whirled, and her heart lurched. The flood of shame over what had happened threatened to drown her. She didn’t want to feel the constricting
of her throat and the shot of pain between her legs. The hand clamped over her mouth and the desperation as she beckoned the professor to help her. Instead, he’d enjoyed the performance of her losing her virginity.
“Hey, hey, you okay?” Jason led Avery out of the greenhouse onto the rooftop deck. “Care to tell me who the ‘someone important’ is?”
Avery shriveled under his gaze. “No, not now.”
Not ever.
Chapter Forty-Two
Jason lowered the last ladder to the fire escape and made the jump to the ground. His arms windmilled, and he wobbled, barely avoiding a face-plant. The drug-induced high was still firing up his nerves, and everything felt too intense and loud.
Above him, Avery peered from the fire escape. She was breathing hard from the floors they’d already descended, and she’d done it while wearing stilettos.
“Jump. I’ve got you.” He held up his hands to catch her.
“Why isn’t the ladder going lower?” she cried.
“To keep people from climbing up. You’re going to have to jump.”
“And break my ankle?” She groaned, lowering herself down to the last rung of the ladder. “I can’t reach the ground.”
“You’re going to have to trust me,” he said. “I won’t miss.”
She glanced downward at him, looking skeptical. Her hair was disheveled, and he could see her sexy thong and butt cheeks underneath the oversized suit jacket.
“Do you have any choice?” he prodded her. Sirens sounded down the street, and a crowd was already gathering. “We better hurry. They might have called the cops.”
“Okay, I trust you. Catch me!” she shouted and let go.
His heart ballooned and even though his energy was zinging up and down from meth and his nerves were jittery, he was still high enough to think he could do anything.
“Yeeha!” he shouted as his arms closed around Avery and her sweet butt hit his chest. “Gotcha, baby.”
And because he was excited and amped and popping with all those strange emotions, he dipped her back and kissed the breath out of her.
The bystanders’ applause was broken up by the whoop-whoop of a siren cutting off.
“Over there,” a female voice shouted. “Those are the robbers. They’re armed and dangerous.”
“No, we’re not,” Jason shouted. “We’re actors rehearsing a skit.”
The crowd obligingly clapped and hooted, cheering them on. Jason whirled Avery over his shoulder and sprinted down the alleyway.
The shouts of officers yelling, “Stop, police,” faded into wolf whistles and catcalls as the suit jacket flapped over Avery’s back, exposing her thong swimsuit.
Shots rang out behind them, and Avery cried, “Run faster. They’ve got their guns out.”
Jason turned the corner and took a quick glance, almost dropping Avery in disbelief. The popping sounds came from plastic cups of ice water being thrown at the cops.
Minutes later, Jason and Avery pulled out of the underground garage in his rented convertible with the top down. Both of them wore sunglasses. She was covered with a floppy beach hat and not much else, and he was tieless with his shirtsleeves rolled up and his button-down open, looking like he and his girl were on their way to the east end of Long Island or the Jersey Shore.
Despite the heat of the late summer evening, Avery clutched Jason’s suit jacket tight and shivered as the convertible clambered up the back roads to his hunting cabin.
After escaping The City, Jason decided they’d lay low in case the police were after them. She didn’t know what to think. Or feel. All she could do was numb herself.
At least she still had her purse and phone since she’d left them in the car when they went up to the professor’s penthouse. Those shoes she’d left behind were one of her favorite pairs. That pissed her off.
The gun she’d grabbed from Larry turned out to be Jason’s gun, so he was all set.
“What a day.” Jason cut off the engine. He leaned back on the seat and exhaled without looking at her.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “After the high wears off, you’ll crash. Hopefully it won’t be too bad since it’s your first time.”
“And last.” He put up his hands, fingers spread, and stared at the shaking. “It’s settling down. Should have picked up fast food on the way up.”
“I’m not hungry,” she said.
“Not even for Gino’s pizza?” He arched an eyebrow, and she was glad to see him smiling.
“Does he do delivery? Because look at me.” She flapped open the suit jacket.
“I’m sure Gino won’t mind you flashing him.” He finally leaned over and kissed her.
The simple action shocked her, and she swallowed, biting her lip. “How are we? I mean, what do you think about me now?”
He touched her face, so gently, kissing her like a man saying goodbye. She braced herself and kicked herself for not melting into the kiss.
But she had to know.
He curled his fingers around her hair and stroked, calming and soft. “My heart doesn’t think. It only feels.”
“That’s not answering the question.”
He cupped her face with both hands and stared into her eyes. “It feels an awful lot like love.”
“Is this the meth talking?”
“No, this is Jason’s heart speaking. My head can’t understand it. I’ve never wanted to get attached after losing my mother. After meeting you, it’s not what I think, but how I feel. It’s like what happens to you is more important to me than my own life. That keeping you safe, making you happy, and helping you pick up the pieces and live the best remaining life you have is all I’m obsessed with.”
“Even after everything that happened?”
“Especially after everything we’ve been through together.” He rested his lips briefly on her forehead before backing off and beaming such kindness and acceptance from his face that she choked up with a combination of regret and hope.
Why would he settle for someone as ruined as her?
Could she do the same for him? Heal his grief and give him happiness and comfort with her love?
Could she even love again, knowing how brutal the loss could be?
She froze, barely breathing. She didn’t know how she felt about Jason. She was grateful—that was for sure—and oh, how she was attracted to him. But he was rough and rude. Bossy and opinionated.
Except she cared, and she felt soft and warm and sleepy when she was in his arms. Sleepy? Since when was sleepy a good sign?
“Did I say something wrong?” Jason’s breath warmed her face. “If I stepped where I wasn’t—”
“Shhh— You’re good.” She put a finger over his lips. “I just don’t know how to process this.”
“Let’s go in and order that pizza. I’ll let you have first dibs on the shower.”
She nodded and turned away from him, hoping he couldn’t see through her—not that she could even see through her own murky and turmoiled soul.
What did she want?
Did it even matter?
Her only tangible goal was to honor Brando at Manhattan Fashion Week. Create a clothing line that portrayed his heroism, his decency, his bravery, and his values, that of service, sacrifice, and selflessness.
She’d done it with the clothes. But had she done the right thing using the bad boy Matt Swanson as the face of her Cocky Heroes line?
Jason opened the passenger door and held out his hand. “You seem deep in thought. Are you okay?”
“Do you think I’m honoring Brando or selfishly trying to bring him back with the Cocky Heroes line?”
“There’s nothing selfish about honoring him.” He pulled her to her feet. “And even if it’s selfish, so what? Don’t you deserve to heal? To feel good?”
He was right, of course. That was what everyone was telling her. She had to let go of the survivor’s guilt. But how could she when she could have been the reason Brando died?
“I don’t deserve a d
amn thing until Brando’s killer is brought to justice.”
“You deserve vindication. I’m right there with you.” He clamped her close, roughly. “As for what you deserve, I aim to give it to you.”
Jason examined the white wires sewn into Avery’s bathing suit. They appeared to be structural, holding the shape of the pair of bands from the crotch to just below her breasts where they fanned out to provide a modified underwire functionality.
He tore apart the padded part of the bra and flipped it inside out, exposing a small microphone. He made quick work of the other padded cup and found a postage-sized transmitter but no miniature data card. He cut up the crotch area, hoping to find a data card, but the only thing there was a tiny and flat power source. Where had Tatiana gotten such sophisticated and expensive spying gear?
His heartbeat quickened. If Tatiana was doing extracurricular recording, was she hoping to blackmail the Leaches? What was her relationship to Larry exactly? She hadn’t come to their rescue in the greenhouse. Was she for the Leaches or for her own skin?
Since he was on leave of absence, he was locked out of the NYPD computer system. He’d run a check on Tatiana before, but in retrospect, she seemed too good to be true.
No priors.
Not even a speeding ticket.
She’d moved to New York two years ago, and she wasn’t in any of the Federal crime databases.
What could she have been looking for, and why would she be interested in wiring Avery’s play party with the Leaches? What was she hoping would spill out of Avery’s lips? Could it be the identity of the secret Professor Leach held over Avery’s head?
A chilling thought grabbed Jason’s scalp as he thought of the one person Avery would not want exposed.
Her father, the general.
Could he have been the one who abused her sexually while letting the professor watch and jerk off to it?
Anger exploded in his veins, and Jason wanted to wring all their necks. The air was too stuffy inside the cabin, so he strode out onto the porch and called his partner.
“Hey, where the hell are you?” Blade’s voice was scratchy. “We got a call that you were causing a disturbance. Climbing down a fire escape and kidnapping a semi-nude girl from a rooftop garden.”
Triggered by Love Page 31
