The day after tomorrow, he has a date with his mistress. He’s going to do something awful, I can feel it.
At eight thirty, headlights lit the inside of his room and River instinctively knew it was Marseille even before he pressed his face to the window.
She hurried from the driver’s seat and pounded on the door.
He pulled it open and grabbed her arm, yanking her inside.
“Woah, easy there,” she laughed shortly, but River was not smiling.
“Where the hell have you been all day?” he hissed. Her amber eyes closed slightly, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied, shaking her head. “I came here looking for you, and you were nowhere to be seen. Where did you go?”
River stared at her for a long moment, trying to formulate the proper words to speak.
There’s nothing I can say that will make her safer and nothing I can say will make her look at Jude like the evil creature she is, but I can’t let her stay with that monster tonight.
“I…I…”
“You came to my house, didn’t you?”
River swallowed, nodding quickly.
“Yes, but not to be obsessive,” he replied hurriedly. “I…”
“You’re worried about me,” she finished, and he looked up at her, his eyes shining.
“Yes,” he murmured. “Of course I am. You’re my wife, no matter what happened. You’re always going to be my wife, no matter what you choose to do.”
“Jude is not who he claims to be,” Marseille told him. “I’ve been learning a lot about him today.”
“What do you mean?” River asked, cautiously optimistic. “What did you learn?”
“What do you want to tell me?” she asked. “What do I need to know about him?”
River stared at her a long moment and turned away, guilt flooding his eyes.
“He says he was your best friend in the army. I know you had mentioned him in passing…I should have known then. He’s been lying to me all along.”
River pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead tenderly.
“You had no way of knowing,” he murmured. “I wasn’t here to protect you as I promised.”
“I found out his family is still alive, living in Syracuse. He told me his parents were dead.”
“He told me the same thing,” River said, touching her cheeks. “I think he has a lot of secrets he doesn’t want anyone to know.”
“I have been tracking down his parents today. I left a message for his mother to call me.”
“Does he know?” River asked urgently, a fear tickling his stomach. “He’s suspicious about something. I thought he was following you when you left the house.”
“I don’t care,” Marseille growled. “He is the one who has been lying. He is the only one with something to hide.”
“You should care, baby. He’s dangerous.”
Marseille seemed surprised by the revelation.
“What makes you think so?”
River bit on his lip.
“He has a pregnant mistress,” he told her. “I think he’s going to harm her tomorrow. I heard him on the phone talking to her.”
The pain in Marseille’s eyes was clear, and she shook her head.
“He might be a liar, River but he’s not violent.”
“I think you’re wrong,” River replied flatly. His mind went to wartime, the twisted expressions in Jude’s eyes.
“We have movement across the way,” he told the squadron.
“What kind of movement?”
“I don’t know,” Briscoe snapped. “Wait for your instructions.”
“Everyone should have evacuated,” Jude muttered angrily. “Goddamn insurgents.”
“We don’t know they’re insurgents. Don’t make any rash moves, men.”
They fell into line, reaching for their weapons and River eyed his companion warily.
“Jude…” he whispered. “It could be anyone.”
“You know full well it isn’t a bunch of imams praying, Cortez. Shut up.”
“You heard the captain.”
“We’re going to kill those – “
“Galvin!” Captain Briscoe snapped at Jude. “Head up and shut up.”
The men fell silent and waited for instruction, but River had a terrible sense of foreboding as he felt the almost palpable hatred emanating from Jude.
He’s going to get us killed one day, River thought, the adrenaline pumping through him as they ducked against the whitewashed walls of the Qalla.
“No,” Marseille insisted. “I would know if he was violent.”
River released her and turned away, unwilling to fight with her. He knew that he would be following Jude like a bloodhound on a trail the following day.
“I don’t want to talk about Jude anymore,” Marseille said suddenly. “I’m not going home tonight. I’m staying with you.”
She threw herself back into his arms and lifted herself onto her tiptoes as she used to years ago.
He met her lips hungrily, his hands encircling her waist as he picked her up and lay her on the bed, relishing the sweetness of her mouth.
Their clothes were on the floor in seconds, River’s head slowly moving along the length of her body.
As his tongue met her saccharine center, Marseille moaned happily, her back arching to meet his mouth.
“My God, I can’t tell you how often I dreamed of being with you. I’m so afraid I am going to wake up from this and realize that none of this is real.”
“It’s real, Marce. I will never leave you again. You will always be safe while you are with me, I swear it,” he murmured, kissing her lips gently as he spoke.
He plunged his tongue into her damp core, feeling her thighs tense around his ears as he lapped at her.
His palms seized her bottom, pulling her fully against his face and savoring the soft flow of juices emitting from her.
“I love you so much,” she purred as he slid up her body, his hands caressing the lines of her body, curves he had memorized in his mind’s eye since the first time they had been together.
He entered her smoothly, propping her calves around his shoulders and filling her entirely, so she gasped aloud.
They fell into a gentle rhythm, her fingertips running along the lines of his lips as they lost themselves in one another.
It was as if they had never been apart and River could read the happiness in Marseille’s light brown irises as she began to climax again, meeting his simultaneously.
Her calved tightened around his ears, and he lifted her higher, raising her rear above the mattress, leveraging himself deep inside.
They melded together in a solid flow of togetherness, neither one sure where one stopped and the other one started.
With a final shudder, River lay atop his long-lost wife and inhaled the scent of her silken skin.
But instead of living in the perfection of the moment, River was overcome with the thought that Jude would never give up Marseille.
And if he doesn’t let her go, I’m going to have to kill him.
Chapter Nine: Burlington, Vermont - 2011
She stared at him, her mouth agape. The ring was a half karat and glinted brilliantly against the candlelight of the restaurant.
“Jude, I…I don’t know what to say,” Marseille breathed. He looked at her with shiny blue eyes filled with hope.
“Please, get up from there,” she whispered, painfully aware of all the eyes on them at the restaurant.
“Not until you say yes,” Jude told her and Marseille bit on her lower lip worriedly.
“Let’s talk about this,” she urged, and she saw the light disappear from his face.
“You’re saying no?” he choked, slowly rising from his kneeling position on the floor.
“Please, just sit down so we can talk,” she begged him, wanting to wipe the stricken expression from his face. “This is so…unexpected.”
“Unexpec
ted?” Jude echoed. “We’ve been dating for over a year.”
Marseille cringed at the categorization of their relationship. It was true that Jude had been an incredible help and support to her over the past year but she never really considered them a couple.
And yes, she had slept with him during moments of loneliness but again, she had regarded Jude as more of a friend than a lover.
Yet there he was, down on one knee, proposing with a diamond ring in the middle of a five-star restaurant.
He really believes that I would marry him? After all the talks we had about River? After all the tears I’ve cried over him? Everything about this is wrong, Marseille thought, looking around at the patrons who seemed to be looking at the handsome young man with oozing pity.
Jude seemed aware of it also, and his fair cheeks blushed crimson.
“I’m sorry, Mars,” he whispered, and she bristled slightly. He never seemed to remember how much she hated being called Mars.
“No, I’m sorry Jude, but it’s too soon for me to consider something like this,” she told him earnestly. “We were barely married when he died. I just can’t – “
“Baby, that’s why I am proposing to you. We have kept each other afloat during this terrible time. It is what River would have wanted for us.”
Marseille looked at him, wanting to believe his words to be true but she couldn’t imagine spending her life with someone other than River.
River would not want me moving on with his best friend, she thought, shaking her head but as she looked up, Jude was sliding something across the table at her.
“Just before he died, River gave this to me and made me promise that if anything ever happened to him, that I would take care of you.”
“Really?” Marseille asked, glancing down. It was a photograph which she had given River when he had first left on tour.
God, I was so young, so naïve, she thought, staring at her face. She barely recognized herself in the picture.
He loved me so much that he appointed a new husband for me in case something happened to him. How can I refuse to marry Jude knowing that?
“Don’t you see, Mars? River wanted to ensure you were loved and well cared for in case anything happened to him. I am the one he thought was good enough to fulfill that calling. Please don’t dismiss it. I will make you so happy, I promise.”
Marseille gulped back the sea of tears in her throat and blinked quickly.
“Okay,” she whispered, extending her left hand. “I will marry you, Jude.”
I’m doing this for you, River, she thought as he slipped the ring upon her finger.
Clarissa didn’t sound happy when Marseille called in sick the next day, but Marseille did not care.
She had much bigger fish to fry and work was not even on her radar until Jude was dealt with.
The morning had started with her cell ringing at seven o’clock. Marseille was already awake, but she had not been expecting the voice on the other end of the phone so early.
“Is this Marcy?” a weathered woman croaked over the phone.
“Marseille, yes. Who is this?”
“You called me, dear. My name is Erin Galvin. You left me a message yesterday afternoon. You said it was about Jude?”
Gooseflesh sprinkled throughout Marseille’s body, and she turned to look at River’s still sleeping form.
“Thank you for calling me back, Mrs. Galvin. Do you have a few minutes to talk to me now?”
There was a low chuckle.
“That depends, dear. How much do you want to know about that boy? I could go on for hours.”
Marseille paused, her mind racing.
“How would you feel about a visit, ma’am. I don’t know if I explained who I am but I married Jude.”
The silence was on Erin Galvin’s side after she spoke and for a minute, Marseille thought she had hung up the phone.
“Well, I guess I can make time for a visit to meet my daughter-in-law,” she replied crisply. “What time should Ed and I expect you?”
It was a five-and-a-half-hour drive to Syracuse and Marseille kicked River gently with the balls of her feet.
He groaned slightly, and she held her finger to her lips.
“We will be there early afternoon. What’s the address, Mrs. Galvin?”
Marseille jotted the information down on a notepad and bid the woman goodbye before turning excitedly to her lover.
“Get up and showered,” she told him, pulling on his hand.
“Why?” he grumbled. “I had the most amazing dream.”
“There will be plenty of room for dreaming later,” she told him. “Right now, we’re going on a road trip.”
Edward and Erin Galvin lived in a quaint house near the university, and when Marseille and River pulled up in her Kia, River seemed tense.
“I don’t know what they’re going to tell us, baby, but whatever it is, I want you to know you’re not in danger anymore. Not with me here.”
Marseille nodded and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“I’m not worried. I’m ready to address this head on for once. I’ve buried my head in the sand for far too long with Jude.”
River nodded at her, his face a mixture of love and concern.
“You’ve been through too much as it is,” he said. “We need to put an end to this madness.”
A face appeared in the front window and Marseille nudged him.
“They see us here. Let’s go.”
Slowly, they exited the car, and River took Marseille’s arm as they walked up the walkway.
The weather had turned cold overnight, and their breaths were coming out in small streams as they approached the entrance.
The door opened, and they faced a tiny, female version of Jude, her bright blue eyes blazing inquisitively.
“Marseille?” she asked in a shaky, old voice but as Marseille took her in, there was nothing frail about Erin Galvin.
“Yes, Mrs. Galvin. Thank you for agreeing to see me.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she looked at River suspiciously.
“Who is this?”
“My name is George, ma’am,” River answered quickly, and Marseille smiled sadly. George was River’s deceased father.
He is going to need a new identity, Marseille realized suddenly. That is something we have to do. How are we going to rebuild his life as someone else? And why?
“Come in,” Erin encouraged, stepping back. “I just baked some peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.”
They were ushered into the foyer, and as Erin closed the door, Marseille tried to look around subtly.
It was not a place where Marseille would have imagined Jude growing up with its antiques and chandeliers, but she knew she had found the right place.
He would hate the décor in this place.
She idly wondered if that was why Jude didn’t enjoy Victorian furnishings.
Maybe it’s not the furnishings he hates; maybe it’s his parents.
“Ed is in the living room. You’ll have to excuse him. His heart isn’t good, and he doesn’t move around like he used to.”
As they entered the sitting room, a huge ox of a man sat in a wheelchair next to the sofa, an oxygen tube in his nose.
“Ah,” Ed declared. “Here is our daughter-in-law!”
His voice was booming; the opposite of what Marseille would have expected from an enfeebled man and yet he seemed incapacitated as he watched them with wise eyes.
“Hello Mr. Galvin,” Marseille said, hurrying forward to offer her hand graciously. “My name is Marseille.”
He grunted but accepted the gesture, turning his stare onto River.
“Your name isn’t George,” Ed said flatly. “I know a George when I see one.”
The couple looked at one another, unnerved by the words.
Does he know River? Marseille wondered nervously, but she did not respond, only smiling weakly as she and River sat on the sofa next to him.
“I’m going to get so
me coffee and freshly baked cookies,” Erin announced, scurrying from the room but neither Marseille nor River responded. They were fixated on Ed and Ed on them.
“When did you marry him?” Ed asked.
“Wait!” Erin yelled from the kitchen. “I want to know too!”
Uncomfortably, Marseille stared at her hands.
“I just want you to know that of course you would have been invited to the wedding if I had known…” she told the man earnestly. Ed laughed mirthlessly and coughed.
“We wouldn’t have come if we’d received an invitation,” he replied. “Jude knows better than that. How did you meet him?”
Marseille’s hands began to sweat, and she wiped them on her jeans, glancing at River for assistance as Erin made her way back into the room, carrying a tray of sweets and coffee.
Marseille jumped up to assist her, taking the shaking tray from her and placing it on the coffee table.
Erin eyed her appreciatively.
“You’re much nicer than Corey,” Erin commented. “Prettier too.”
“Corey?” Marseille asked politely.
The Galvins looked at one another, their mouths an equal line of disgust.
“Where did you meet my son?” Ed asked again. River cleared his throat.
“In the army,” he said reluctantly. “We were in Afghanistan together.”
They gasped in unison, their eyes wide.
“They gave that boy a gun?” Ed murmured and Marseille felt a tingle of apprehension.
“What happened to you and Jude?” she asked, accepting a mug of coffee from Erin.
Ed muttered something under his breath, and his wife shot him a warning look, apparently hearing his words.
“Jude was always a rebellious boy,” Erin volunteered. “We knew that about him from the time he was two years old. He always did what he wanted when he wanted.”
“Couldn’t discipline that boy – his hide was tougher than leather. The shrinks didn’t know what to do; boarding school sent back a monster,” Ed recalled.
“A monster?” Marseille echoed. “He’s never been a monster.”
She couldn’t help but defend the man she had married. He was still her husband, after all.
The Lost Seal: A Seal Romance Page 9
