01 Untouchable - Untouchable

by Lindsay Delagair

  He walked away and I remember undoing the shoes and my hot feet finding the cool deck, but then something was at my ankles and I was kicking it away. I had to get in the water, I had to cool off. I heard his footsteps as he came back for me and then I heard him call my name, but it didn’t matter at this point. I stood up and looked at him. His face was so handsome, his eyes so wide and his lips parted, but he wasn’t making a sound. I looked down and noticed my clothes lying on the deck and then I remembered I wanted to swim.

  He grabbed for me as I stumbled forward, but he wasn’t quick enough and I was in the water. The feeling of the water on my skin was like ice; I was trying to swim but I couldn’t make it to the top. That’s when I felt a strong arm around my waist and I was being pulled to the surface. He was carrying me up the pool steps and I was clinging to his neck. He smelled so absolutely wonderful, I kept kissing the base of his throat, my fingers twinning through his wet hair. I needed him more than I felt I’d ever needed anything, more than air, more than a beating heart, more than life.

  I felt the softness of my bed, but he was trying to leave me. I got up to follow him and he returned, trying to get me to be still.

  “Please don’t leave me,” I begged.

  He was saying he couldn’t stay. He was saying something about a perfect gentleman. Every time he tried to leave me, I had to follow. He finally said he’d stay with me if I’d only stop. I wondered what he wanted me to stop? I knew his clothes were dripping wet and my fingers were trying to help him remove them. He kept repeating something about a perfect gentleman, be still, and he wasn’t this strong.

  I could taste the cologne by his ear, my mouth seeking his, but he was refusing me. My hands moving to forbidden places and then he was over me, holding my arms against my chest, his legs pinning my own. I was trying to taste his skin again, struggling to get free so I could touch him. It felt as if the struggle lasted for hours, I remembered saying that I wasn’t going to tell him how much I loved him because I didn’t want to hurt him. I was telling him my plans to save him from having to kill me. I finally gave up the struggle. Out of breath and tired, I could feel something warm running against my skin and the taste of tears that were not my own.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When I opened my eyes, it was daylight outside. My head throbbed and my mouth was dry. I could feel something heavy over my waist. I looked down it was his arm—and I was completely bare.

  I don’t remember screaming as much as I remember the sound of it. I scrambled, stumbled, tripped and tumbled away from the bed in a panic. He sat up, telling me to calm down, but I ran for the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Thank God my robe was hanging there. I slipped it on shaking violently, trying to remember what happened.

  “Leese, open the door, please.”

  “N-n-no,” I shuddered. Then I was screaming and crying again.

  “Please, Baby, please open the door.”

  “What did you—(I choked on a sob)—what did you do to me?”

  “Please believe me; I didn’t do anything to you. You’ve got to believe me. David gave you a lot of ecstasy in your coke last night. Please, open the door.”

  It was becoming clearer: the restaurant, his family, dinner, singing, talking about my step-father. The memories rushed back into my mind and the throbbing increased. I remembered him making me throw up.

  “Please, open the door,” he pleaded once more.

  My fingers turned the lock and opened it slightly.

  “Leese,” he called to me softly, pushing the door further open.

  “I feel sick,” I mumbled. My empty stomach was rolling, but there was only acrid air coming up. I gagged and crawled toward the edge of the tub. I felt his warm hands supporting my waist, holding me until my stomach calmed.

  “I’m okay now. Help me to the sink.” My legs were wobbly as he lifted me to my feet. I was a wreck and I didn’t want to look in the mirror. I swished mouthwash and spit it out, feeling the fresh burn in my mouth and sinuses. When I grabbed my brush, I finally looked at my reflection.

  He was standing there watching me. He looked about as rough as I felt. His chest was bare and there were scratches on his skin. I saw what looked like bruises along his neckline, and then I remembered seeing something like that before on a friend that had made-out. They were hickies. His slacks from the night before were deeply crumpled from having been worn to bed wet. Yet, it was his face that disturbed me the most, the way he was looking at me. Just knowing what I’d done, remembering that I begged him to stay with me… More memories were rushing back and I knew I’d said the wrong things to him last night. His was the face of knowledge and that knowledge had crushed him.

  The tears were coming; I couldn’t hold them back. I tried to brush my hair. Doing something normal I hoped, would stop the emotions from taking over, but I couldn’t do it. I dropped the brush to the counter and turned. I looked into that face and begged him to forgive me. I felt the wonderful arms as he cradled me and then swept me off the floor and returned me to the bed.

  He was wiping away the tears from my cheeks and forcing back my lowered chin so that I had to look at him and see the pain I caused.

  “You told me some things last night, Leese. We’ve got to talk.”

  “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “Stop apologizing, it wasn’t your fault and, in a way, I’m glad it happened.”

  “Glad? How could you be…”

  “Or I’d never known until it was too late. I want to hear you say it—sober and in the light of day, I want you to tell me what you told me last night.”

  “I can’t. Please, don’t make me do this. There’s no reason to go through all this pain. It won’t matter…”

  “It matters to me,” his voice becoming urgent.

  “It’s sadistic to go through this. It’s bad enough what has to happen, but do we have to make it hurt this much?

  “Tell me. I have to hear it.” He wouldn’t let me turn my face away.

  I studied those eyes for a long moment and I could see the need, the deep longing and the pain to hear what he already knew. “I—I love you, Micah Gavarreen. I love you with all my heart.” I had told him I wasn’t going to call him by his real name, but he had to know that I loved him no matter who he was or what he’d done.

  We simply held each other. I’d never felt anything so good as wrapping my arms around him, feeling his arms around me and finally getting to admit the truth that had been aching inside my heart for too long.

  He relaxed his hold and pulled away, brushing the hair from my face as he did. “Go ahead and get dressed.” He rose up and pulled the bedroom doors closed, leaving me alone.

  I took my cotton gym shorts from the dresser, slipped on a tank and went out of the room to look for him. He was still upstairs. I noticed the alarm panel hadn’t been set in all the commotion last night so I went out the back door onto the patio. There was something dark lying by one of the lounge chairs, and, as I approached, I realized it was the pile of my clothes from last night. I sat down, picking up the items and folding them slowly, placing them on the small table beside me. I couldn’t believe it was all there right down to my undergarments. I had stripped outdoors.

  I recalled the look when I turned and saw his face, the expression when he saw what I’d done. The look had been so gentle that I could almost reach out my fingers and touch the memory.

  I felt the lounger sink down, and I knew he was beside me. My eyes were closed. The shirt I had worn last night folded tightly in my hands and pressed to my face. I could still smell the scents of the restaurant.

  “You told me a lot of things last night,” came his tender words. “You didn’t hold anything back so I believe they were all true.” He paused, his hand reaching over and rubbing softly between my shoulder blades. “Do you remember much of what you said?”

  I nodded, still clutching the fabric tightly.

  “You told me you were going to make thi
s all easier for me—at the end.” It sounded as if his throat had caught on the last words. “I don’t want you to do anything. Do you understand me? Don’t…”

  “I didn’t want you to have that memory,” I whispered.

  “Promise me—swear to me, by God, that you won’t do anything like that.” He was removing the shirt from my grasp, turning my shoulders toward him. “I can live with whatever I have to do, but I couldn’t—I couldn’t handle that. Innocence doesn’t destroy innocence. Swear it to me, Leese. Make me the most honest promise you’ve ever made.”

  I looked at him and threw my arms around his neck, clinging against the rock solid frame. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you felt that way about it—I promise.”

  I held on a little longer, then let him go. “My head is about to split apart. Do you have some aspirin, Tylenol, anything that might help?”

  He left for a few minutes and returned with a glass of cranberry and a couple aspirin. I forced them down, my stomach still trying to roll. “How did you know? Who called you?”

  “Gwen. After we left, I guess David got to bragging that he had solved my problem. All he figured he had to do was turn you on and I’d never be able to say no. She was in a panic and she told me to make you throw up.”

  “But, I remember, you did get me to throw up. Why didn’t it work?”

  “My God, Leese, he must have given you enough to kill a horse.”

  “Would I have—I mean would an over-dose have been…”

  “I think if Gwen hadn’t called, you’d be dead or at least in a coma.” Then I could see the anger flashing in his eyes, “I’d kill him right now if it hadn’t ended up making you tell me what was going on. You told me something else last night.”

  I didn’t know what else could have been more revealing than what we’d just been through so I could only look at him expectantly and wait to cringe.

  “You broke the rules, Leese. You know I meant no contact, not just no phone calls.”

  Oh—yeah, that was a big cringe. “I’m—I was just afraid she would be going crazy by now…” My hands went up to rub my temples, “Why would anyone do this to themselves on purpose? I feel like a piece of crap!”

  “Come on, let’s get you back inside and out of the sun. He wrapped his arm around me and helped me navigate indoors. Instead of feeling better after the aspirin, I was feeling dizzier and weaker by the minute.

  “Do you want to go to your room?”

  “No, my sheets are damp. How about the couch for a little while?”

  We went into the family room and I lay down, pulling the cushion securely under my aching head. I woke about two hours later, took a couple more aspirins and went back to sleep. It was one in the afternoon when he woke me up to get me to eat some lunch. I sat up slowly, taking the warm cup of soup from his hands. I sipped it, letting the salted broth trickle down my throat.

  “Starting to feel better?”

  “Yeah, just a little.”

  “Eat some bread with the soup,” he said, offering some slices he had brought with him. “Something solid in your stomach is bound to help.”

  “Thank you,” I said, setting the items down on the coffee table.

  “You’re wel…”

  “No, not about lunch, but thank you for not—last night would have been an easy excuse for you to abandon your promise.”

  “You have no idea how… Well, let’s just say I found strength that I didn’t think existed. You are,” he paused. “You are a very, very beautiful woman—and really insistent when you want something badly enough.”

  I felt the blush cover me so completely, it was like a second wave of the drug was releasing in my system.

  We sat there together for a little while listening to the sound of thunder in the distance. The sky had begun to cloud and I was certain that the rain would be here soon. He turned on the television, flipping it to a local news channel that played the weather report every ten minutes. We had just missed the report and would have to wait before we could see it.

  My heart jumped to my throat as visions on the screen of something familiar began to play. It was a helicopter shot of a huge house on the water. I snatched the remote from his hand and hit the volume.

  “…heiress to the Joseph Parkerson fortune was found this morning…”

  Oh dear God, no! I was on my feet, my hand clamped over my gapping mouth, stifling a scream.

  “...by her husband, after slitting her wrists in an attempted suicide. Mrs. Winslett has been distraught over the disappearance of her seventeen year old daughter, Annalisa. She was taken by ambulance to Columbia Hospital’s psychiatric ward and has been listed as being in serious, but stable condition.”

  “I’ve gotta go home!” I cried, trying to push him out of my way. “I’ve gotta…”

  “No, Leese, it’s too dangerous.”

  “I DON’T CARE!” I screamed at him, “Mom needs me. I’ve got to go! You’ve got to let me go!” I was pushing, hitting and shoving as he struggled to get a handle on me. “MOVE!”

  “NO!” He yelled it back so loud that he scared me. “You can’t go there. You’ll be walking right into a trap. Sharon Norton’s man is going to find you and shoot you, run you off the road, or blow you up. It won’t matter to him as long as you’re dead!”

  “I have to go. I’m as good as dead anyway. I’m just waiting here for my time to be up! I’d rather die in Palm Beach trying to help my mom than to wait here and torture both of us!”

  “Please, Leese, I don’t know enough about the other man. I’ve got to know more about what you’re up against.”

  “I’m up against the wall, that’s where I’m at. You’ve got for however long it takes to get from here to Palm Beach to learn what you can about him. I have to go to her. Please understand; I have to go.”

  “I’ve got to pack,” he relented with a sigh. “Get your things together. We’ll take the Trans Am because I can’t fit everything we need in the Vet.”

  I was ready in five minutes after having stuffed my items into a duffle bag that he had given me. It seemed that he was taking an eternity to get ready, and then I saw him coming down the stairs. He carried the long gray case, the black case and a single duffle. He set the alarm and locked the house as I stood impatiently by the car. I helped him load the trunk and was ready to go, but he told me I’d have to give him a minute. He opened the garage and parked the Vet inside and then immerged carrying my holster, Glock and jacket. The gun was secured in the trunk, and he tossed me the jacket and climbed into the driver’s side as the familiar sound of a heavy metal machine filled my ears.

  He was carrying both cell phones, his and the one that I knew he would use to let someone know my life was over. He opened his personal phone and began dialing.

  “Mom, yeah, we saw it on the news, too. We’re on our way to Palm Beach. Yes, I know, I know, but she has to get to her mother. Of course I understand. I need to talk to Dad. Please, just put him on the phone.”

  I could hear his breathing becoming controlled, as I realized he was preparing himself to speak to his father.

  “Dad, I need a favor. I need you to pool all your contacts and resources and see if anyone knows who the rogue is. I just need to find out his M.O., anything that will give me an edge. Yes, Sir, I know that.” There was another pause. “Yes, Sir, I will. And Dad, would you do me a favor and tell Gwen the stupid boy said thanks.”

  My heart panged against my chest at the memory of singing that song for him. I reached over as he snapped the cell phone shut and softly touched the back of his hand. “Thank you, for this I mean. I know it isn’t going to be easy, but—well, thank you.”

  “How’s the head feeling?”

  “Still pretty bad. I think the adrenaline rush when I heard the news, cancelled out my aspirin.”

  “Well, it’s an eight-hundred-mile ride, give or take fifty, so hopefully you’ll feel better when we get there.”

  “How long do you think it’s gonna take?”
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  “I’m doing the speed limit the whole way because I’ve got so much fire power in the trunk that we’d end up in jail for sure, maybe twelve to thirteen hours. We should get in town about two in the morning. But I know when you go to the hospital to see your mom, you’re gonna get swarmed by police. You’re still seventeen; Robert could make you come home with him, and that would be bad.”

  “Can I use your phone? If I can get a good lawyer to help me with an emergency emancipation, then he can’t do that to me.”

  “Don’t you have a lawyer?” he asked, seeming surprised.

  “Sure, my family has lots of lawyers and they all work for Robert. Mom didn’t have much use for them.”

  He just shook his head and reopened his phone, pressing a speed-dial key and putting it to his ear. “Hey Teri, this is Micah. Is Bill there? Bill, I’ve got a problem and I’m going to need your help.”

  I listened as he spoke with who I assumed was his lawyer. I thought it was a little scary that he keeps the guy’s home number on speed dial, but I guess, in his line of work, an on-call attorney is essential. When he told this man that he had Annalisa Winslett in the car with him, I heard something very loud through the phone that sounded like obscenity. He never flinched as he continued telling his attorney that he needed an emergency emancipation and he wanted it before tomorrow morning. “Yes, that’s what I said. Tell the judge it is a matter of her physical safety from her step-father.”

  When he finally closed the phone, he told me that his attorney was calling a close friend in Florida who would get it before a judge today. All we had to do was wait for the call letting us know if the judge would approve it.

  By five thirty we were passing Pensacola on I-10, and a wave of melancholy swept over me as I wondered what everyone was doing on a Saturday afternoon. I could see their faces so vividly in my mind; Jewels, Kevin, Carlie, Nate, Natasha, they were all there, and of course there was no way to forget, Ryan. I could see him right now, driving the Z all over the place, having a good time, but yet wondering how I was doing.