by J. E. Taylor
Steve nodded, glancing at Jennifer. “Yes.”
“What’s your concentration?”
“Criminal law.”
“Defense attorney?” she asked curiously.
Steve shook his head. “No, I want to put criminals away.” Dimples appeared in his left cheek as a partial smile surfaced.
Tracy glanced at him. “Really?”
“Yes,” Steve said, shooting a quick smile Tracy’s way.
“Have you ever broken the law?” Tracy asked.
Jennifer laughed and both pairs of eyes swung in her direction.
“As a matter of fact, I did when I was younger, quite a few times,” he replied, keeping eye contact with Jennifer.
“What’d you do?” Jennifer asked surprised that he had had any trouble with the law.
He grinned and leaned back with his wine. “I never said I got caught.”
Tracy laughed. “Oooo, and he has a dark side. too,” she said to Jennifer.
“What did you do that was against the law?” Jennifer asked.
“I wasn’t a saint in high school.”
“What’d you do?” Tracy asked.
Steve shrugged but kept quiet.
“Come on, you can tell us,” Tracy pried.
Steve narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. “Aren’t you on the school paper?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I’m not telling a reporter about my indiscretions.” He grinned. “I can just see the headline now.”
Tracy laughed. “Off the record, then.”
Steve shook his head. “All you have on me is that I admitted to breaking the law a time or two. Hell, pouring that wine for you is against the law. You’re underage.”
Tracy raised her glass, swirled the wine around, and downed it. “More please?” She smiled sweetly.
Steve slid the bottle in her direction, but made no attempt to pour her another glass. His dimples deepened with his barely suppressed grin making both Tracy and Jennifer laugh.
“You really are a piece of work,” Tracy said, grabbing the bottle and filling her glass.
“I try.” He winked at Jennifer.
“So, have you spoken to any firms about an internship?” Tracy asked, continuing the line of questions.
“I never said I was going to be a lawyer,” Steve said, finishing his dinner and refilling his glass.
“But your concentration is criminal law?”
Steve nodded and sipped his wine.
“What else is there?” she asked.
“Law enforcement,” he said putting his glass down. “That interests me more than show boating in a courtroom.”
“But there’s no glamour in law enforcement.”
“I’m not interested in glamour or fame. I’m interested in justice.”
Tracy tilted her head, studying Steve. “You really are a white knight,” she said.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Ever shoot a gun?” Tracy asked, causing both Jennifer and Steve to blink in her direction.
“Yeah. My grandfather was a cop. He taught me to use a gun,” he replied. “You?” he asked Tracy.
“A hunting rifle,” she replied. “My dad took me on a hunting trip once. Holding a weapon that could kill in an instant was scary and thrilling at the same time.” She shrugged. “But I couldn’t shoot Bambi.”
Steve seemed to be sizing her up in that moment. “You don’t scare easily, do you?”
“Not particularly,” Tracy replied. “I like watching scary movies when I’m alone.”
“So, what scares you?” Steve turned the tables, digging.
“Things I can’t control,” she replied without hesitation.
“Doesn’t seem like there are a hell of a lot of things that would fall under that category? Be more specific,” he said, stroking her ego and questioning her at the same time.
“You know… things…” Tracy said, shifting uncomfortably.
Steve glanced over his wine. “No, I don’t know. Enlighten me.” He took a sip without breaking eye contact.
Tracy smiled. “Things that go bump in the night.”
Steve laughed and glanced at Jennifer. She sent him the evil eye, willing him to stop, hoping the warning was clear. He took the cue and backed off. “I’ll have to remember that if I get up in the middle of the night.”
Tracy laughed. She took the last bite of the meal and stood, clearing the plates. “I’ll clean up.” She smiled over her shoulder. “You two go relax.”
“You sure?” Jennifer asked, bringing her plate to the sink.
“Yes. Go relax,” Tracy said.
Steve put his plate in the sink. “Thanks, Tracy.” He pulled Jennifer into the living room and onto the balcony, wrapping his arms around her. “What was the warning glance all about?” he whispered in her ear before sucking her ear lobe.
“You were interrogating her.”
“So? She was interviewing me.”
“She isn’t a suspect. Don’t treat her like one.” Jennifer kissed him before he could argue.
“All right,” Steve said after their kiss broke. He glanced at the panoramic view and sighed. “Isn’t Thursday party night here?”
“Yes. We usually go dancing.”
Steve raised his eyebrows. “Then I think we should.”
Jennifer laughed.
“You don’t think I can dance?”
Jennifer shook her head, still laughing.
“I got moves, baby,” he said and twirled her around.
“I know that, but can you dance?”
Tracy appeared, wiping her hands on a cloth. “What’s so funny?”
“Steve wants to go dancing.” Jennifer laughed.
“I’m in,” Tracy said. “Assuming I’m invited,” she added as an afterthought.
“It’s Thursday night and I figured some of the fraternity brothers would be out before the big night,” Steve said with a shrug. “And Jennifer here thinks the idea of me dancing is the funniest thing she’s heard today.”
Tracy looked him over. “Oh, yeah, I bet you smoke on the dance floor.”
“Tell her that.” He pointed to Jennifer, who was in hysterics at this point.
“It’s not nice to laugh at your boyfriend,” Tracy said. “Especially when he’s in the room with us.”
“I’m sorry, I just can’t see it,” Jennifer said, winding down.
“Are you ready to go, or do I have to wait until you two get all decked out?”
“Five minutes,” they said at the same time and ran down the hall.
Jennifer threw opened her closet and stepped in, flipping on the light. She grabbed a Maya blue dress with a flare skirt and fitted top. When she leaned down to grab the matching shoes, she saw a flash of red at the back of the closet. She jumped out of the closet with both the dress and shoes in her hands, slamming the door as quickly as she had opened it. Staring at the door, she tentatively reached out, her fingers grazing the icy doorknob.
“You almost ready?” Tracy called from the bathroom.
Jennifer turned away from the closet, peeling off her clothing. She threw the dress on and hustled into the changing room.
Tracy was touching up her makeup and glanced at Jennifer. “Nice choice.”
Jennifer put on a little make up and lipstick, ignoring the sensation of being watched. She sat on the stool and ran a brush through her hair while slipping her shoes on with one hand. Standing, she glanced in Tracy’s direction. “Ready?”
“Yep,” she said pressing her lips together to blot the lipstick.
They walked out of the bathroom, grabbing their IDs from their bedrooms, and met in the hall, walking out to meet Steve.
Steve turned when he heard them coming and his jaw dropped. A slow wicked smile crossed his lips. “I’m going to be the envy of every man in that place,” he said and put his elbows out.
* * * *
The atmosphere pulsed with a hip-hop beat. Even though it was early in the evening, the dance fl
oor was already crowded.
“You ready for this?” Steve grinned at the two of them and waved at the tequila shots he brought to the table.
Tracy took the shot and sniffed. She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “This smells better than Jose Cuervo.”
“That’s ’cause it is. I upgraded to Tequilame.”
Jennifer tentatively picked up her shot, looking at the two of them.
Steve started the tequila procession by licking the skin between his forefinger and thumb, pouring a small mound of salt onto the wet skin. He licked the salt, downed the shot and pressed a lemon slice between his lips sucking away the bitter taste in his mouth and replacing it with the tartness of the lemon. He dropped the lemon back on the tray and smacked his lips together with a shudder. “Your turn,” he said, and the two of them followed suit.
Tracy threw back her head and let out a whoop as she set the shot glass upside down on the tray.
The slow heat of the shot relaxed the tense muscles in his shoulders and he stood, putting his hand out to Jennifer. “You ready to own that dance floor?”
Jennifer took his hand.
“You coming?” Steve asked Tracy.
Tracy looked up at him, raising her eyebrows.
“I can handle you both. Besides, I’m not leaving you stranded out here alone.” He glanced around the bar, scanning the crowd and cataloguing each face, each possible threat before glancing back at Tracy.
Tracy stood and took his other hand.
He led them out onto the dance floor and let loose, smiling at the stunned expression on Jennifer’s face. She really hadn’t believed he could dance, but the years of karate training gave him grace of motion that most of the other guys lacked. When the fast beat turned slow, he put his hands around Jennifer’s waist and pulled her to him and her breath caught in her chest.
He glanced over at Tracy and she nodded, slipping through the crowd back to their table.
“You certainly do have the moves,” Jennifer said, breathless from more than dancing.
Steve scanned the room again then gazed at her. “I haven’t done this in years,” he admitted. Leaning over, he gently grazed her lips. “It feels good.”
* * * *
“It suits you,” Jennifer said, looking up at him. He looked radiant, his face flushed from both the heat and alcohol and the edges of his hair wet with perspiration. He smelled like a spiced summer breeze mixed with an undertone of sweat, which made her heart flutter.
Steve laughed. “No, you suit me. I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t for you,” he said in her ear. As the song ended, he twirled her around, dipping her low. He led her back to the table. “Another round?” he asked. They nodded. He disappeared through the gathering crowd at the bar, retrieving another round of tequila shots.
Tracy watched him walk away. “Is it wrong to envy you?” she asked, scanning the bar.
“Not at all,” Jennifer said and reached out, squeezing Tracy’s hand. “Thank you for setting us up.”
Tracy smiled and nodded.
The rest of the evening was a blur of drinking and dancing and they stumbled into the apartment a little after midnight. Steve twirled them both down the hall toward the bedrooms and bowed to Tracy before escorting Jennifer into her room.
“Night, Trac,” he said and closed the bedroom door.
“You.” He turned toward Jennifer and twirled her around again and then tugged her tightly to him and licked her neck. “You taste salty.” He fumbled with the back of her dress. “You know, I almost started to undress you in the taxi,” he said, nibbling on her ear. “It took way too long to get home.”
“Probably wouldn’t have gone over well with either Tracy or the driver,” Jennifer said and tilted her head back, spreading her arms wide as he swung her around again. “You are so sexy,” she uttered while he licked her neck again, ending with a kiss on her jaw line. “Hot.” She lost her balance.
Steve grabbed her close and they stumbled onto the bed, laughing. “I am going to be so hung over tomorrow morning,” he chuckled. “Murph is going to blow a gasket.”
Jennifer giggled, yanking his shirt off. “I can sleep in tomorrow.”
“That’s so not fair.” He kissed her harder than he intended, knocking their teeth together. “Ouch.” He touched his lips and checked his fingertip for blood. It was clear and he offered her a drunken smile. “Sorry.”
“You’re the rocket scientist that chose tequila,” she said.
“Yeah, but seeing you suck a lemon was so worth it.” He grinned down at her.
“Ah, you had ulterior motives.”
Steve nodded and felt in the pockets of his shorts. His smile disappeared. “I don’t have anything with me tonight.” He kissed her gently and rolled onto his back, quashing his desires.
“Shit,” Jennifer said.
“My sentiments exactly.” He glanced at her. “I guess I just get to hold you tonight.”
Jennifer giggled. “The one time you get me drunk, you don’t take advantage of that?”
He raised his eyebrow, considering the possibility as his eyes scanned her. “Naughty girl,” he whispered. The dress came off seconds later and he kissed her body, moving his way down between her legs. He made her moan and writhe on the bed, calling his name over and over and over, making love to her with his mouth and hands. He ached to be inside her, but refrained. When she took him in her mouth, he wasn’t able to contain himself any longer, arching into the explosion.
Shifting on the bed, Steve wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, spooning her.
“I love you, Jenny.”
“I love you, too, Steve.”
Sleep was immediate and dreamless for both of them. Neither Steve nor Jennifer stirred when the closet door unlatched and glaring red eyes peered out at them from within the darkness.
Chapter 32
Jennifer’s alarm clock went off at seven and they both moaned at the noise. Steve reached over and hit the snooze button, falling back on her.
The alarm went off ten minutes later. This time, Steve turned it off and sat up. “Oh Jesus,” he whispered. The imaginary vice tightened on his temples, sending bolts of pain through his cranium and into his eye sockets. He held his head for a moment, thinking that would keep his brain from exploding through his skull. “Do you have any painkillers?”
Jennifer rolled toward the sound of his voice. “Bathroom medicine cabinet. Bring me some on your way back.”
Steve got out of the bed on unsteady legs and let out a laugh. His underwear was backwards. He shifted his undergarments the right way, slid on his shorts and headed in search of painkillers and bladder relief. He grabbed the toothbrush he’d used the other day and proceeded to wipe out the horrible taste in his mouth. The medicine cabinet indeed had painkillers, a choice between acetaminophen, ibuprophin, and some prescription medication under Tracy’s name. He chose the acetaminophen and filled a cup with water, downed three and put three more in his hand, refilling the cup for Jennifer.
Tracy walked out of the shower as he crossed the dressing room. “Morning,” she said, seemingly unaffected by their night of partying.
Steve grunted at her and ducked into Jennifer’s room. He handed her the cup and the pills and grabbed his shirt off the floor, sliding it on while she downed the medicine.
“I’ll be right back.” Jennifer turned a little green as she headed to the bathroom.
Steve closed the closet door and stood when she returned to the bedroom.
“You don’t look so good,” she said.
“I forgot what a killer hangover tequila gives me.” He closed his eyes.
Jennifer gave him a kiss. “I’m going back to bed,” she said, and crawled under the covers.
“Bitch,” he whispered.
When he let a slight curve grace his lips, she offered him a smile in return. “Bite me,” she whispered back.
“Later,” he said. “Don’t forget noon today at the pub.”
“I won’t. I love you,” she replied and closed her eyes.
Steve looked at her for a moment and then leaned over, kissing her cheek. “See you later, babe.”
“Bye.”
Steve left her bedroom, closing the door behind him. The smell of coffee drifted from the kitchen and he followed it. Two cups were set on the island counter. Tracy was in the process of bringing sugar and creamer to the island. “I figured you could use some.”
“How come you’re so chipper this morning?” Steve asked. Even his eyes hurt.
“I took aspirin before I went to bed last night.”
“Smart girl.” Steve picked up the coffee and drank it black.
“You really do love her,” Tracy said, studying him.
“Yes,” he said, glancing in her direction. “I always have. I just didn’t know how much until I saw her again.”
“I’m glad. She deserves the best.” She sipped her coffee. “And you definitely fit the bill.”
“I appreciate that Tracy,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I’ll see you later. I have to clean up before class.”
“Be careful,” Tracy said, causing Steve’s eyes to clear a fraction. He tilted his head and furled his brow. “Driving home,” she said. “You still look a little under the influence.”
“Ah.” The confusion cleared from his face and Steve smiled, shrugging. “Just hung over.” He set the cup down in the sink and took off.
“Still, be careful.”
Chapter 33
Jennifer woke to a silent apartment. She stretched, glancing at the clock—it blinked eight minutes after ten. She needed to get moving and she rolled off the bed, stepping into the closet, and flipping the light on to peruse the clothing for something more appropriate to wear to meet Steve’s boss. The door swung closed and she jumped, spinning toward the solid wood and reaching for the handle. The light flickered and went out.
Chilling air surrounded her and the landscape of the closet changed. Crunchy moss scratched the soles of her feet. As she glanced over her shoulder, water glimmered in the distance, but everything else was black. Panic as thick as the darkness surrounding her pressed on her chest, constricting, binding, debilitating. She let out a small noise, reaching, fingertips grazing against the wood grain in front of her.
