Desire: A Contemporary Romance Box Set

by R. R. Banks

  I laugh and shake my head. “No, I'm as sober as the proverbial judge,” I say. “I'm just sort of seeing things a little – differently, lately. Believe it or not, I'm trying to become a better person.”

  She arches her eyebrow and shoots me a smile. “This wouldn't have anything to do with the sultry little brunette in the other room now, would it”

  I shrug. “Can't a guy just decide he wants to turn over a new leaf?”

  “Sure,” she says. “But having a gorgeous young woman to turn over that new leaf for never hurts.”

  “Doesn't make the change any less sincere.”

  “Didn't say it did,” she replies. “Just noting that sometimes, a little extra motivation can help spur those changes. But at the root of it, you need to want to change for yourself. If you don't, eventually you'll slide back into your old ways – sultry little brunette or not.”

  I laugh and lean back in my seat again. “You have wisdom beyond your years, Jean.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she says and smiles.

  “Listen,” I say. “As part of this new leaf I'm turning over, I'd like to start fresh with you if that's possible. We've butted heads more times than I can count and I'd like to put an end to that. I would like for us to have a good working relationship.”

  She looks at me for a long moment and gives me the warmest smile I think she's ever given me. “I'd like that too.”

  “I'm happy to hear that.”

  There's an awkward moment of silence between us with neither of us knowing what to say after that. She clears her throat and stands, telling me she needs to check in on a patient and I tell her I have some paperwork to catch up on. But as she walks out, she pauses at the door and turns back to me.

  “She's good for you, I think,” she says.

  “Sorry?”

  “Calee,” she says. “I think she's good for you. You just seem – different. Somehow, more at peace.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just that there's always been this darkness in you,” she says. “And today? It somehow seems lessened. Maybe not entirely gone, but diminished. And I think it has everything to do with Calee. She's good for you.”

  I smile and look at my desk, heat flaring in my cheeks. “I think so too,” I say. “Thank you, Jean.”

  She gives me another smile and leaves my office, gently shutting the door behind her.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Calee

  Almost a month has passed since I escaped from the Ark. And not a day goes by that I don't think of Rachel and the other girls out there – the other girls who want to escape as badly as I did. My heart breaks for them, but I don't know what to do.

  Eric and I both have talked to Sheriff Fitzgerald multiple times but can't get him to do anything about Raymond. He told me that I tell a good story, but unless I can provide some actual proof, there's nothing he can do. Knowing that Rachel and the other girls out there are being tortured, are being abused is killing me.

  I feel completely and utterly helpless and powerless. There's nothing I can do.

  That sense of despair for those girls dampens the happiness inside of me a bit. It's been almost a month without any sign of Raymond or his Shepherds. For the first time, I really let myself believe that I've put them behind me. That I escaped and that I'll never see any of them again. That Noah's Children is an ugly blight on my past and nothing more.

  For the first time in forever, I'm hopeful and looking forward to life. Things between Eric and I have been amazing. Our relationship continues to grow stronger and I can honestly tell him that I love him. That I'm in love with him. He's the most amazing and remarkable man I've ever known. He's my savior. My guardian angel. But he's so much more than that as well.

  My feelings for him grow deeper every single day and I can take comfort in knowing that his feelings for me do the same. We somehow stumbled into each other's lives at just the right time and I know that my life is forever altered for the better. And I'm pretty sure Eric feels the same way.

  I'm sitting on the back deck of Eric's home – though he continues to insist I call it our home – flipping through some textbooks. Knowing that my lack of a formal education is like a splinter in my soul, Eric hired an army of tutors for me. They immerse me in everything from History to math to English to Political Science.

  I'm almost overwhelmed by the amount of information I'm getting every single day, but I'm absorbing it all. Maybe it isn't in a classroom setting, but I'm getting one hell of an education. Once I feel like I'm ready, I'm going to take my GED and then enroll in some classes at the local community college to take all of my GE's. I'll figure out my plan for the future and a possible career path later when I'm ready to transfer to a university.

  I still can't believe it when I think about it. I'm going to go to college. It's something I've always wanted, something I've always dreamed about, but something I never thought I'd get to do. I put my hand on my stomach and smile.

  All of that, of course, is going to have to wait until after I have my baby. The baby is my number one priority right now. And it amazes me that Eric has been so open and accepting of it all. In fact, he's told me on more than one occasion that deep down, he's always wanted a family. Honestly, as the days and weeks pass, he seems to be as excited about it all as I do – which makes me insanely happy. The idea of starting a family with Eric – I still sometimes have to pinch myself to make sure that this is my life and that it's real.

  I sit back and smile up at the sun, enjoying the feeling of the cool ocean breeze upon my skin. I don't think I'll ever get tired of being near the ocean. My smile grows wider. Life is good and for the first time in my life, I'm genuinely happy.

  My cell phone rings and when I look at the display, I see it's from a number I don't recognize. Thinking it might be one of my tutors calling to give me some extra homework or something, I answer the call.

  “Hello?”

  “I've missed you,” he says. “Are you having fun playing house, darlin'?”

  The sound of Raymond's voice chills me to the bone. Adrenaline pours through me in a raging torrent and my heart starts to thunder inside my chest. It's irrational, but I look around everywhere – up one side of the beach and down the other – certain that Raymond is there watching me. But the beach is empty. There's nobody there.

  I hold the phone to my ear, knowing I should hang up. Knowing I should call Eric right away. Yet, I'm unable to do either. I sit in my chair, the phone pressed to my ear, frozen in abject terror.

  “H – how did you get this number?” I ask.

  I don't know how he could have. We threw away Danny's phone long ago, just in case there was some way they could use it to track me. And this new phone is one Eric had gotten for me, under his name.

  “You should know by now,” he says. “I'm a resourceful man.”

  A lone seagull overhead cries out, its high-pitched keen suddenly sounding eerie and sinister – Raymond has the effect on most anything.

  “W – what do you want?”

  “You should also know by now, that I'm not a man who likes losing,” he says.

  “W – why can't you just leave me alone?” I ask, tears welling in my eyes. “We've left you alone. We haven't gone to the police.”

  His laugh is malevolent. “That's not what I hear,” he says. “I hear that you and your new man have called good Sheriff Fitzgerald many, many times, begging him to come out to the Ark to arrest us. Something about illegal guns and underage girls?”

  “And he's refused to do anything about it,” I say.

  “Still, that's quite a bit different than you not going to the police at all, now isn't it, darlin'?”

  “I just want to live my life, Raymond,” I say. “Please, just leave me alone. You set me aside anyway. You have no use for me. You have all of your other, younger, prettier wives. Just let me live my life. Please? I'm begging you.”

  “Oh, you'll definitely be begging me, Calee,” he says. “You're go
ing to be begging me to kill you before I'm done with you.”

  “Why can't you just leave me alone?” Tears stream down my face and the knot in my stomach constricts painfully. “Why can't you just let me live my life. I'm nothing to you, Raymond.”

  “You are my possession, Calee,” he spits, his voice tight with anger for the first time. “You are mine. I own you. And I will have you back.”

  I sniff and wipe the tears away from my face. I take a deep breath and try to regain my composure – which is no easy feat.

  “I'm done with you, Raymond,” I say. “I'm done with your cult. It's nothing but a dark stain on the fabric of my past. It's not going to be part of my future.”

  His laugh is low, menacing. “You're assuming you have a future, sweetheart.”

  “I have a very bright future,” I say, hoping my voice sounds as firm as I imagine. “A future that has nothing to do with you.”

  “Oh, you might be surprised, darlin',” he says. “The past has a way of jumpin' up and bitin' you when you least expect it.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “Figure it out,” he says. “You always were a little too smart for your own good. Definitely too smart for my own good.”

  I look ways down the beach again and still don’t see anybody. Eric is at work, but the doors and windows are all locked, the security system set, meaning there's nobody in the house. As far as I can tell, I'm alone.

  “How did you get my number?” I ask again.

  “Wrong question.”

  “Then what's the right question?”

  “That's what you need to figure out.”

  I slam my fist down on the table, my fear and frustration starting to bubble over. I'm tired of living in fear. The last few weeks with Eric have shown me a world without fear. A world were I'm free. And I want it more than anything. I want to live free. To live in peace and start my family with Eric.

  Which means I need to cut ties with the past.

  “I'm going to hang up now,” I say. “Do not call this number again. In fact, you know what? I don't care if you do. We'll just have the number changed, so do what you want.”

  Raymond's laughter comes floating out of the speaker as maniacal as it is malevolent. It makes my stomach roil, my heart race, and leaves me feeling like I'm going to throw up. And I feel powerless to take the phone away from my ear and hang it up.

  “The right question,” he says, his laughter finally receding, “is where am I right now? Here's a hint, sweetheart, I'm not on the Ark.”

  The chill that sweeps through me is colder than an Arctic winter. I feel myself start to tremble as the tears roll down my cheeks. Fear, unlike anything I've ever known before grips me, squeezes my heart, and though it shames me to admit, I feel like I might wet myself.

  I jump up from the table and run inside, slamming and locking the door behind me. I run around the great room, looking for something, anything that can be used as a weapon. Grabbing a poker from the stand next to the fireplace, I grip it like a baseball bat and stand with my back facing a wall.

  Raymond hadn't said exactly where he was, but I got the overwhelming impression that he was here. Somewhere nearby. Since he'd somehow gotten my phone number, is it possible that he'd gotten my address too? Or was this Raymond simply screwing with me? Maybe he got my number and decided to scare me. To not give me any peace by continuing to torment me.

  Would he really come all the way to California just to take me back to the Ark?

  I stand there, straining my ears, listening for the smallest sound. But the house is completely silent. You could hear the proverbial pin drop. Part of me feels a little foolish, thinking that maybe Raymond had successful screwed with my mind. But there's part of me that isn't so sure. That thinks there's something sinister going one. But what? What could Raymond be doing or planning?

  I grab my phone and punch in Eric's number. He's at work, but he should know what's going on. And from day one, he made me promise to call him right away if I ever heard from Raymond or his goons. It's something I never thought would actually come to pass.

  After punching the button to dial Eric's phone, something heavy slams into the door. It hit so hard, I hear the door rattling in its frame. My heart is racing and I can taste the bile in my throat. There's another loud crash against the front door and I hear the sound of wood cracking.

  “Oh, God,” I mutter.

  Movement in the corner of my eye draws my attention. Standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows are two of Raymond's men. They're looking at me, malevolent smiles upon their faces. My blood runs cold and I fight hard to suppress a scream.

  I hear Eric's voice just as the windows come crashing inward. I scream and drop the phone, turning to run when the front door explodes inward. Through the splintered debris of what used to be the front door steps Harold – with Raymond right behind him.

  As the four men converge on me, I take several steps backward, raising the fire poker and brandishing it.

  “Get out of here,” I hiss. “Get out of here right now.”

  Raymond steps to the front of the little pack, making a show of looking around. Then he looks at me and nods approvingly.

  “Very nice place, Calee,” he says. “You've done well for yourself.”

  “I've already called the police,” I say. “They're going to be here any second.”

  “No, you didn't,” Raymond says, his tone that of a disapproving parent scolding their child. “What does the Good Book tell us about lying, sweetheart?”

  The men all continue to converge on me and I start swinging the poker wildly. Harold catches my wrist in his iron grip. He squeezes hard until I cry out and drop the poker. I watch as it hits the floor with a clatter and feel the tears falling down my face, knowing that I'm in bad trouble. Knowing that my world – which was starting to resemble something good and perfect – now sits in ruins.

  Raymond's face is inches from mine, his sneer every bit as ugly and his breath just as bad as I remember them.

  “First thing we're gonna do is get you back to the Ark,” he says. “Then we're gonna cut that little bastard child outta ya. And if you survive that, then we're gonna have a good old fashioned stonin'. Or, we may just go with the stonin' and be done with it. Haven't decided yet. How's that sound, sweetheart?”

  I do the only thing I can think of – the only thing I have the power to do – I spit in his face. The sticky glob hits his cheek and he just laughs and shakes his head at me.

  I never see it coming. But I feel the burst of pain when somebody's fist connects with my cheek. I taste the blood in my mouth and then the darkness claims me once more.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Eric

  “Calee!” I scream into the phone.

  In the background, I hear what sounds like glass shattering, bombs going off, and the voices of men. A cold worm of fear winds itself around my insides knowing who those voices belong to – Raymond and his Shepherds. Somehow, someway, they'd found us. They'd found her.

  I jump up from behind my desk and rush to Vance's office, my heart thundering and adrenaline pouring through me.

  He looks up from his charts and an expression of concern immediately creases his face. “What's wrong?”

  “They found her,” I say. “I don't know how, but they found her.”

  “Who? What?”

  “Raymond,” I say. “The cult. They found Calee. She just called me and it sounded like she was in the middle of a warzone.”

  “Go,” he says, getting to his feet. “Get home. Now. I'll call the cops.”

  I nod and run out of the office as fast as I can. Bounding down the stairs to the parking garage, I nearly trip and fall several times. I force myself to slow down a bit. I'm not going to do her a damn bit of good if I break my leg trying to get to her.

  Getting to my car after what seems like an eternity, I jump behind the wheel and fire it up. The tires squeal as I back out quickly and then squeal more as I stomp
on the accelerator and rocket out of the garage. I hear the shriek of tires and the blaring of a horn as a car comes to a screeching halt when I pull out of the garage and into traffic without looking.

  It's a twenty-minute drive from the office to home normally. But driving like a maniac, I think I can cut that time in half. I weave in and out of traffic, horns blaring and middle fingers being stuck out of windows the whole way. I don't care. I need to get home. I need to get to Calee.

  Finally, I pull into my driveway and slam on the brakes. I jump out of the car and feel my heart stutter when I see that my front door has been kicked in. The shattered remains are lying in the entryway and the frame of the door hangs limply. It looks like they used a damn battering ram to get inside. But then I remember the big, brawny cowboys and figured they'd probably done it.

  How in the hell had they found us?

  Running inside, I see that the windows in the great room have been shattered. There's glass everywhere. Tables have been overturned, pictures knocked over – the place looks like a bomb went off inside. I look around, running from room to room, upstairs and down.

  But no Calee.

  I hear the cars coming to a screeching halt in my driveway followed by the sound of feet on the pavement.

  “San Diego PD,” calls a voice. “We're coming in.”

  “In here,” I call, my voice thick with emotion. “I'm in here.”

  Four officers come storming into the house, weapons drawn. I raise my hands to avoid any potential trouble.

  “I'm Dr. Eric Galloway,” I say. “I'm the owner of the house.”

  “We had a call about an abduction,” says the first officer who'd spoken. “Is there anybody else here?”

  I shake my head. “No, they took her.”

  “Spread out and check the house,” he calls to his partners as he steps over to me.

  I'm overwhelmed by a feeling of despair. I'm supposed to be protecting her. Giving her a new life. And I failed her. I fucking failed her.

  “Sir,” the officer says, holstering his weapon. “Can you tell me what happened here?”