I Can See You

by Karen Rose

  He had to wait, to make sure his voice didn’t crack like a teenager’s. “I always wondered what went on under your clothes. I never thought I’d find out.”

  She said nothing, still waiting, and his heart squeezed even as his body throbbed.

  “Eve, I imagined a lot, but never like this. You’re beautiful.”

  Her eyes closed and her throat worked. “Hurry,” was all she whispered and he knew she was terrified. Noah wanted to curse, no, to kill the man who’d left her scarred and scared. But that wouldn’t help either of them now.

  No pressure, he thought and let his own trousers drop to the floor in a jingle of keys. She flinched, just a little, but he saw. So he lay down beside her and started again, kissing, caressing, until her hands relaxed and her hips lifted, her body seeking his.

  “Please,” she whispered. “I’m ready.” But her eyes were still closed.

  “No, you’re not.” He kept his voice soft. “Look at me, Eve.”

  She opened her eyes. There was arousal there, but still too much fear. He brought her hand to his lips, then down his body, wrapping her fingers around him.

  “That feels so good,” he said huskily. “I want you to feel good, not afraid.” He covered her mouth with his once more and teased her, working one finger up into her, then two until her hips moved restlessly and little cries burst from her throat.

  Now, he thought. It had to be now. Slowly, carefully, he pushed inside her, watching her face. When her eyes met his, relief hit him like a brick. Arousal had won.

  And so had Eve. He started to move, never taking his eyes from hers, and when they clouded with pleasure he felt like he’d conquered the whole damn world. When she came, convulsing around him, he dropped his head to her shoulder and followed.

  In the minutes afterward, he felt dizzying relief. He might have had more powerful orgasms, but never one more satisfying. There would be time for powerful later. Now he rolled them to their sides, and savored what they’d done.

  Eve blew out a breath. “I’m glad that’s over,” she murmured.

  Startled, he blinked down at her. “Excuse me?”

  She winced. “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant… hell. We dove into a cold pool and I was so scared, but you… you were so patient with me. You couldn’t have enjoyed that very much.” Her brows lifted. “Although you were exceptionally functional.”

  He snorted a surprised laugh. “I’ll have you know I enjoyed it very much. As did you.”

  She smiled shyly, charmingly. “I did.”

  “Now that we’re finally in the pool, we’ll both enjoy it more the next time.”

  “Next time?” She looked intrigued. “When might that be?”

  He laughed again. “Give me a few minutes.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “For understanding that I needed the shove.”

  “Thank you for trusting me.” He raised one brow. “And for… you know.”

  “I do know,” she said sagely. “I’d be interested in knowing again. If you don’t mind.”

  “I think I can sacrifice.”

  Thursday, February 25, 12:30 a.m.

  He drove by Adele Donner’s house, pleased to see Donald’s car in the driveway. The house was dark, its occupants tucked into bed. For now, the fact that Donner was staying with his wife and very elderly mother made for a wonderfully thin alibi.

  He’d let the Hat Squad have Donner for a little while. They’d question. Interrogate. Use their tough, scary voices. Donner would deny and tremble. Maybe they’d arrest him right away, but Donner had sufficient assets to pay the bail the judge would set. Then later, he’d take him and hold him where no one would find him.

  The cops would search high and low, while the press seethed and the public’s respect for Hat Squad seeped away. And when they’d been sufficiently humiliated, Donner would be found, having hanged himself, his suicide note a full confession.

  Webster would close the case, defeated and maligned. And then I go back to the way things were. Quietly eliminating the dregs of society nobody would miss.

  He drove away from Adele Donner’s house. It was time for the sixth of his six to die.

  Thursday, February 25, 12:30 a.m.

  Virginia Fox looked in the mirror, sighed angrily. She was not a beautiful woman, and that always mattered to men. She had hoped that this man would be different, but she knew he wouldn’t be. His screen name was Dasich. His real name was John.

  He was a newbie to Shadowland, eager to learn, and like all the men, he knew how to sniff out the women who could actually accomplish something. She’d helped him along, shown him the ropes, knowing he’d find some excuse to skip away when he’d learned his fill. So she’d been shocked when he wanted to meet.

  More shocked to learn that he lived nearby. In Wisconsin. He wanted a late-night meet. Said he worked strange shifts, but Virginia knew the code. He was married and cheating on his wife. It didn’t matter. It would never go as far as sex. It never did.

  Men took one look and went running.

  She wasn’t a troll. “I may not be beautiful like Natalie, but I’m okay,” she snarled to the mirror, angrily slashing lipstick over her mouth. Pretty Natalie, smart Natalie. The “I-just-got-a-promotion-and-a-big-raise” Natalie. The “I’m-your-new-boss” Natalie.

  “Fuck Natalie.” She threw the lipstick in her purse.

  She’d brought Natalie into Shadowland to take her down a few pegs. Make her compete in my world. But some evil genie demon had touched her and Natalie was good at poker, too. Fucking pact with Satan. “She used me. Took what I knew and got me thrown out of my own place.”

  Turned on me, reported me for cheating. It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t right. I spent months building my skill points. Months. And now, it was all gone. Taken away by…

  Natalie. “God, I hate that bitch.”

  John had been right about her all along. Using me, just to make her look better.

  Virginia would have the last laugh. At least tonight she’d be meeting a man, unlike Natalie who’d be home playing poker, all alone. Sucked into the game.

  Virginia hoped Natalie got addicted. Maybe she’d lose her job. Virginia brightened. Hey, that was possible. Then Natalie would lose her swanky house, her nice car. And where do you think she’ll come crawling? “Here,” Virginia snapped aloud, pulling her front door closed behind her. And then it’ll be payback time.

  She threw her purse into her car so hard it bounced. “I’ll kick your ass to the curb so hard it’ll leave skid marks. Tell me not to meet my man tonight. Tell me it’s not safe.” Greedy bitch. She just wanted all the men, the money, and the power all for herself.

  Well, John was one guy Natalie wasn’t going to get. Virginia would see to that.

  Thursday, February 25, 12:30 a.m.

  He pulled into the parking lot, gratified to see Virginia’s car parked outside. She’d been so easy to lure, so jealous of her friend Natalie. He was sure Natalie had no idea how much her “friend” despised her. Everything had come so easily for Natalie, her career, her family, even the men that had come in and out of Natalie’s life. Men she took for granted while Virginia had been forced to listen to Natalie’s exploits.

  Virginia had invited Natalie to the Shadowland poker table to get some payback, instead finding this an area where Natalie also excelled. He had to admit, in all his years he’d met few opponents so formidable. He’d actually never planned to kill Natalie Clooney. She was the closest to real competition he’d ever met. When he went back to the quiet killing, he’d reregister in Shadowland and buy another avatar. The poker table was a place he’d really grown to enjoy, so he’d go back.

  And when he did, there’d be no Virginia to spoil his game. When he’d come along, Virginia had been ripe for the picking. It wasn’t hard to get her help in beating Natalie at poker. It wasn’t hard to lure her into side conversations where she bared her soul on topics from the boss that was against her, to her fear of the dark, to her incompetent therapist. H
e pitied anyone who had to listen to that woman for any length of time.

  He despised a whining woman. His mother had whined. All the time. Finally, he’d grown tired of her. He imagined the world was weary of listening to Virginia Fox, too.

  Soon, the world would be a little bit quieter.

  Thursday, February 25, 1:45 a.m.

  Eve lay with her head pillowed on Noah’s shoulder. Her fingers toyed with the coarse hair on his chest that rose and fell as he slept.

  But she was wide awake, mind and body. Noah hadn’t lied. They’d both enjoyed it a lot more the second time. She shivered, remembering, mind and body.

  A whole lot more. The first time hadn’t been a dive into a cold pool, as much as a protracted glide. The second time? Most definitely a dive, fast, furious, and satisfying.

  She stretched sinuously, aware of every well-earned twinge. It was as if he’d used up all of his slow and gentle the first time. He’d finally lost control, plunging hard and deep, ruthlessly dragging her along for one hell of a ride.

  When she’d come, she’d felt alive. Invincible. And when he’d come, she’d watched his face and finally felt beautiful again. Whole. For the first time in a very long time.

  And now, in the quiet, she wondered if she’d ever have gotten to this place with anyone else. She thought about Callie’s theory that she’d trusted him because he was “the one.” Perhaps. Perhaps not. Whether that was true or not long term, he was definitely the one for now and Eve felt a gratitude that she suspected he would reject.

  Her eye caught a small picture on the nightstand and gingerly she reached across him to grab it, taking care not to wake him. They’d turned out the bedroom lights, so she rolled away from him to hold the picture up to a shaft of moonlight coming through the curtains. It was a woman with a small child and she felt the slickness of the wood, worn smooth by a caressing thumb, and she pictured him sitting in his bed staring at the family he’d lost. Her throat closed and the hope and beauty she’d felt fizzled a little.

  He’d never get a family like this again. Not with me.

  “That’s Susan,” he said quietly and she jumped. “And Noah,” he added. “My son.”

  She pulled the blankets up to cover herself. He eyed the movement, his eyes taking on that blank expression she now knew hid his heart.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said as he sat up, pushing a pillow behind his head.

  “I wasn’t asleep. I was just enjoying holding you. It was a long time coming.”

  “Yes, it was.” She held out the picture and he took it, his eyes still blank.

  “Susan was a clerk in ballistics,” he said. “I’d just finished the academy, and didn’t have a hundred dollars to my name. Somehow, she was still interested in me.”

  Eve’s throat tightened. She had no problem visualizing any woman falling for Noah Webster. I did, the first time I saw him. “She was beautiful. So was Noah, Jr.”

  He smiled then, wryly. “Noah the fifth. Poor kid.”

  His smile loosened the vise around her throat, just a little. “So your mother wasn’t being professorial when she named you Noah Webster. I wondered.”

  “My mom can’t spell ‘professorial’ without Webster’s dictionary,” he said, genuine affection in his voice. “She’s a smart woman, but can’t spell to save her life. There’s no actual family connection to the dictionary Noah, other than some great-great way back who thought it was a name with stature.”

  “It is,” she said. “And it suits you.”

  “It’s my name, like it or not. Mom had to name me Noah, and I had to name him Noah.” He studied the picture with a sigh. “I thought my life was over when I lost them.”

  He seemed to want to talk, so she obliged. “You said there was an accident.”

  “Yeah. Stupid teenager driving a car packed with his friends, coming home from a football game. The radio was too loud and they were having too much fun. Ran a red light. I swerved to avoid them, skidded on some ice, ran off the road, rolled down a hill.”

  He’d recited the story as if it were a police report. “And the stupid kids?” she asked.

  “They fled the scene, but one of my friends from the force caught up with them later.”

  Beneath the blankets she felt cold and pulled her knees to her chest. “And then?”

  “We’d landed upside down and I’d been knocked out cold. When I came to, Susan was bleeding out, begging me to wake up, to help the baby. But it was too late.” He swallowed hard and deliberately put the picture back on his nightstand. “I heard her voice in my mind for a very, very long time.”

  Eve’s cheeks were wet. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “No. Didn’t change the end though.”

  She rested her chin on her knees. “Winters is like a bad song that won’t get out of my mind. He died in prison. Some con stabbed him in the showers.”

  “I know. I’m glad, because I would have been tempted to do it myself.”

  He was totally serious and bizarrely that made her feel safe. “The day I found out he was dead, everyone had gathered at Caroline’s, you know, Tom’s mother. They were having a picnic. I wouldn’t go, so Dana stayed home with me. I couldn’t face anyone.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Perhaps. I wonder what would have happened if someone had shoved me out of the house that day. If I’d have hidden in the dark for so long.”

  “You can’t second-guess, honey. Trust me, I did it for a long time. And every time I’d just find myself staring at the bottom of an empty bottle.”

  “You’re right. I know that and I’m not blaming anyone. Except maybe myself.”

  “Well, that needs to stop, here and now.” He swiped at her wet cheeks with his thumb. “You beat him, Eve. You survived.”

  “So did you.”

  “Barely, and with a lot of help from my family, but I did. And here we are.”

  So where will we go? Eve looked across him to the picture of the beautiful family he’d lost. “I can’t give you a family like you had.”

  His jaw tightened. “And I told you that didn’t matter.”

  “And I still don’t believe you. You’re such a good man. You should be a dad. I just wanted you to know that if you change your mind… that it’s okay. I’d understand.”

  Even in the darkness she could see his eyes flash. “Eve, you are really pissing me off.” Abruptly he slid down, lying flat on his back, glaring up at the ceiling. Then he sighed. “Are you going to sit over there all by yourself all night?”

  “Probably not,” she said cautiously.

  “Come here.” He waited until she complied, settling her head against his shoulder. “You might decide you don’t want me,” he said pragmatically, although she heard the vulnerability in his voice. “Some young guy comes along… you may decide that’s what you want. We can’t know what will happen, Eve. For now, this is what we have.”

  She tilted her head back to look at him. “For now, this is what I want.”

  Too many emotions shifted in his eyes for her to read any of them. “Good,” he said. “Now go to sleep. I have it on good authority that you can only live one day at a time.”

  She cuddled closer, her palm resting atop the coarse dark hair that covered his chest. She was absurdly happy he had a hairy chest. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought she’d experience, this tickling against her palm, the feel of his heart beating steadily beneath her fingertips. The smell of a man as she nuzzled, satisfied. And she realized she was simply, absurdly happy.

  “Eve?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What was it like to die?”

  She lifted her head to look into his face, unsurprised to find his green eyes blank, waiting. “I’m sure it’s different for everyone.”

  “What was it like for you?”

  Her eyes flickered to the photo. How excruciating to know those he loved most were in pain, be forced to hear his wife’s desperate cries, and be helpless to save them.r />
  “It…” She searched for the right word. “It lured. Come. Rest. I wasn’t afraid, but I was angry. I was only eighteen and I didn’t want to go. I flatlined twice. The time in between I could hear the medics yelling to stay with them and I wanted to scream, ‘I’m trying.’ It was then I became afraid. It was like… quicksand and I couldn’t get footing and it all slipped away again. The second time was harder. I wanted to just rest. But I fought. And I made it back. I hope that’s what you wanted to hear.”

  “I always hoped she wasn’t afraid,” he said hoarsely. “But I wanted her to fight.”

  Eve brushed her fingertips over his cheek. “Did she love you?”

  “Yes.”

  He said it with an assurance that made her eyes sting. “Then I’m sure she fought. But when she was too tired to fight anymore, I’m sure she felt safe. As did your son.”

  He swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

  She kissed him, softly. “You’re welcome.” She’d started to slide back to his shoulder when his hands gripped her face, pulling her back to his mouth for more, and she gave it to him, in seconds the kiss exploding. He grabbed her hips and, as in the backseat of his old car, swung her over to straddle him.

  “Please.” The word ground from his throat as he ate at her mouth. It was he who begged this time and Eve felt powerful. The first time he’d been patient, the second he’d lost control, but this time he needed her.

  He was suddenly, fully aroused and Eve lowered herself onto him, taking him inside her. Her breath caught when his fingers dug into her hips, bringing her down hard, making her feel every inch of him. She sat back, and he went deeper still.

  “You feel so good,” she whispered, hissing out a breath when his hands covered her breasts and she began to move. He matched the frantic rhythm of her hips, her name a chant on his lips as he begged her not to stop.

  She couldn’t stop. It was a wave, an incredible towering wave, and she rode its crest until he groaned, rearing up to close his mouth over her breast, hungrily suckling, his hands hard on her back pressing her down, his body twisting up.