Lacy answered even though Scott had asked Michelle the question. “He’s at the bar getting us something to drink.”
“Please excuse us. I want Michelle to see our Arabians.” He twined his fingers with hers and tugged her across the room. Before she disappeared into the crowd, Michelle turned and looked at Lacy as if she expected her to intervene. But she had no intention of intervening. She liked Scott and felt he would be a much needed distraction after all Michelle had been through. She needed someone to help her forget Chad Grey, and it was her opinion Scott Wallace was just the man for the job.
****
As Scott weaved Michelle through the crowd, a group of men stood to the left staring at them. One of the men stepped in front of Scott blocking his escape. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
Still holding her hand, Scott did the introductions. “Michelle Maness, my best friend, Elijah Henderson.”
Elijah took her free hand and kissed the back. “It’s nice to meet you, Michelle.” He was tall but not quite as tall as Scott. Thick lashes the same color as his plentiful dark hair caused her envy. She had to use mascara to lengthen hers. By the way he moved he knew he was gorgeous. He oozed confidence.
“Likewise.” She felt her cheeks turn pink when his mischievous green eyes stopped on her cleavage. His fingers rubbed the back of her hand.
Scott tucked his arm into hers. “Please excuse us, Elijah.”
Elijah refused to release his hold on her hand. With an arched look, he asked, “What’s your hurry? I’d like to get to know Michelle.”
“Back off, Elijah. She is mine.”
Michelle opened her mouth to tell Scott she didn’t belong to anyone. She told him she wasn’t ready for a relationship. She snapped her mouth shut deciding not to make a scene. Elijah released his hold on her hand and Scott led her toward a side door eating up the distance with his long legs. She had to jog to keep up with him which wasn’t easy in the high heeled designer shoes.
The grounds were just as impressive as the house. A dark brick sidewalk wound its way through the well lit gardens. Lanterns were placed along the path, candles flickering in a slight breeze. Thick limbs from oaks and two sycamore trees spread out over the grass casting shadows. Beds of vibrant flowers were arranged in perfect circles along the path. Whoever did their gardening was very talented. Never in her life had she seen anything like it.
Still it was difficult for Michelle to enjoy the beauty because Scott frightened her. From the beginning he had come on much too strong. She wasn’t ready for a relationship. She knew she was a mess. The pain was still too fresh. Chad Grey had ripped her heart into a million pieces.
Michelle peered up at the sky. Stars and a brilliant full moon lit up the night. The moment she looked into Scott’s intense eyes, she knew she had made a mistake to be alone with him.
By the time they arrived at the stables, she was trembling. The front doors stood open and they stepped inside. She felt awkward. Even the stables were awesome. Polished wood boards adorned the walls. Highly glossed floors sparkled in the dim light. Pictures of tall, muscular horses lined the walls. She almost giggled as she compared the opulence to her simple barn back home. Horses didn’t need all this grandeur. A horse was happy as long as it had something to eat. It all seemed a waste to her.
Western saddles hung on pegs. “I thought rich people used English saddles.”
“I prefer a western saddle.” She imagined him sitting on the back of a horse wearing a cowboy hat and a pair of Stetson Boots. The top two buttons were undone on Scott’s pristine white shirt. It tempted her to see more. He was tall with an athletic build. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Places tingled that hadn’t tingled in over a month. Goose bumps spread over her body.
“Are you cold?” He rubbed his hands over her arms to warm her.
She shook her head in the negative unable to speak. She crossed her arms and stepped away from him. He straightened to his full height and looked down at her. His extreme height had her feeling even shorter than her five-foot two inch frame. Dark brown eyes collided with hers. Those dark eyes slid over her body. “That dress is sending my blood pressure through the roof.”
Her hands automatically covered her ample breasts. She was accustomed to men looking at her with desire, but there was something different in the way he was looking at her; something deeper. Never had she been at a loss of what to do with a man. Scott had her completely befuddled. He took a step closer and she took one back. Her retreat did little to dampen his desires. Before she knew it, she was pinned against the wall. His hand slipped around to the back of her neck as his lips closed over hers. Braced against the wall, Michelle gave in to the hungry kiss. His hands were in her hair, down her back. She didn’t want him to stop. She molded against him as his tongue assaulted hers. She felt his penis throbbing against her center when he lifted her off the floor. She was on fire.
“There you are.”
Scott dropped Michelle to her feet so fast she would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and glared daggers at his sister. Obviously embarrassed, Sherry’s cheeks couldn’t get any redder. “Dinner is ready.” Without saying another word, she turned and raced through the open doors.
He raked his fingers through his blond locks. “Do you want to skip dinner? There’s a nice little bedroom in the back of the stables.”
“No, this is a mistake. I’m not one of your rich socialites that jumps into bed for pleasure. I have never slept with a man I didn’t have feelings for, which is a total of two. I hope I’m not your goal. If I am, you’re wasting your time.”
She tried to bolt, but he caught her by the arm and swung her around. “I’m sorry. I guess I did come on a little too strong.” Again he slid those chocolate eyes over her body. “You are so beautiful. I love everything about you.” He wrapped a fat curl around his finger and tugged. “I love your hair, your figure, and that southern accent makes me melt.”
She wet her lips which were still swollen from his kiss. “Do you have any idea how immature you sound?”
He laughed. “I guess I do sound like a horny teenager.” He took her hand and held it tightly in his grip. “There is so much more than your looks, Michelle. I feel that I know so much about you. I know what you did to save Lacy, and I find that devotion honorable. I know how strong you are.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Let’s spend some time together. I promise I won’t jump your bones again. We’ll take it slow.”
Michelle pulled away and put some distance between them. “I don’t think you know how to take it slow. You think I’m some kind of country bumpkin that will fall at your feet because you’re rich, pampered, and gorgeous.” She leaned in and tapped a finger to his chest. “Well, think again, Scott Wallace. I will not get my heart broken again.”
Scott smiled when she sashayed right out the door and into the night. Even the way she walked appealed to him. She had pride and spunk; two attributes he admired in a woman. Of course it would take some finesse on his part, but he would convince Michelle that they were right for each other. He loved a challenge.
****
The next morning, Michelle was lying in bed watching the morning news when Chad’s mug shot appeared on the screen. She swallowed bile as she stared at his bruised and swollen face. He looked nothing like the handsome, robust young man she had fallen in love with. His cheek was bloody because of the brutal punch he received at the waterfall by Dylan. By force of will, she continued to listen to the reporter as the faces of three beautiful women materialized on the screen. Now that the bodies had been found, there was a media frenzy taking place. Callie Greene was only twenty-one when Chad abducted and murdered her. Blond hair, blue eyes, she had been at the top of her class. She looked so sure of herself and happy in the photograph.
Nahla Comer was only twenty when Chad murdered her. The opposite of Callie, Nahla had dark hair and eyes. Yet she was just as striking. Confident of her beauty and
allure, she had a cocky tilt to her head as she posed for the photo. Last was Elizabeth Cooper. All three women had dazzling smiles on their gorgeous faces as they posed for the camera. All three could have been models. Tears started and she couldn’t seem to stop them. Lips trembling, she pressed her fingers to her eyes.
Lacy swept into the room and grabbed the remote off the nightstand. “Honey, why are you torturing yourself with this pain?” She aimed the remote toward the TV, hit the power button, and the screen went blank. “You shouldn’t be subjected to seeing the women Chad murdered.” She sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her arm around Michelle.
Michelle wiped her face with the heels of her hands. “It’s the only thing on TV.” Not only was Chad, the serial killer, on every network, his story was also on the front page of every newspaper in Raleigh and Durham. She couldn’t pick up a newspaper without seeing his face. Serial killers were big news and everyone was interested in his misdeeds. Now that his victims’ bodies had been discovered, the story was even bigger news.
Abby Coulter, the same reporter that had hounded Lacy for a story when Bret attacked her, had notified her asking for an interview or at least a comment. The woman was persistent. She had even offered a substantial amount of money if she would sit down and talk with her about Chad. No amount of money would get her revealing anything about her life with him.
“Then you shouldn’t watch the TV.” Lacy shook her head in disbelief. “You’re dredging up even more anguish.”
“If I had it to do over again. . .”
“But you don’t get a do over.” Lacy patted her arm. “But you can move on. You can’t move on if you keep Chad in your life.” Lacy tapped a finger to Michelle’s head. “It’s time to get him out of your head.”
Michelle didn’t know how to explain her compulsion to see the women’s faces and hear their stories before their lives were cut short. Maybe it was a way to expunge her fond memories of Chad. Sometimes it was hard to separate the fiction from reality. How much of their relationship had really been a lie?
Lacy changed the subject by asking the questions she had wanted to ask last night but didn’t because she knew Michelle was upset. “What happened with you and Scott last night?”
“Well, I didn’t see any Arabian horses.” Michelle gnawed her lower lip. “That was a ruse to get me alone.”
With one eyebrow eloquently arched, she asked, “Give me details. I want details.”
“He kissed me, groped me a little.”
“Did you like it?”
“Of course I liked it. You’ve seen him. It’s not like I was rolling around in the mud with a pig. Not only is he sinfully handsome, he kissed me until my toes curled.”
Lacy giggled. “No he’s definitely not a pig.” She sobered. “What happened? I could see you were upset when you returned to the house.”
“Sherry caught us grappling at each other in the stables. I’m afraid of what would have happened if she hadn’t interrupted us.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
“No, we come from different worlds. Deep down I feel he is only toying with me.” Michelle felt the color drain from her face. “I bet he is laughing with his friends at this very moment about almost getting the poor, little farm girl to have sex with him in a pile of hay. He made me feel dirty and cheap.”
“I think you are mistaken about Scott. He does not give me the impression of being petty and cruel. It would take a despicable person to do what you are accusing him of doing. You are afraid to trust your instincts because of Chad.” Lacy took both of her hands and peered into her eyes. “You are a beautiful person. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and begin to enjoy life again.”
“My life will never be what it was before Tommy. I mean Chad. I’ll never be able to trust another man. I’m cursed where men are concerned.”
“You’re not cursed. Everything that has happened to you is unfortunate circumstances.”
“Good morning.” Both turned and looked at Dylan standing in the doorway with a mug of coffee in his hand. “I’m leaving in thirty minutes if you need to catch a ride to the library, Michelle.”
“I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
Waiting until he left, Michelle whispered, “Stop worrying about me. I’m fine.” She threw back the covers and wiggled to the edge. “I need to get a shower. I have a paper due tomorrow.”
“If you need to talk, I’m here for you.” Michelle waited for her to leave the room before she fell back in bed. She lay on her back staring at the ceiling. Last night she had not been immune to Scott’s appeal. She had wanted to have sex with him. He evoked feelings she had never felt. While she had loved and enjoyed sex with Chad, Scott had almost driven her mad with lust. She was wasting precious energy on a man like Scott Wallace. She wasn’t Cinderella and he was no Prince Charming. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Chapter Thirteen
Bret Robertson sat at the cold metal table waiting for his father. The room was loud with laughter and conversation as other inmates visited with their families. At the table next to him, one of his friends, Lee Harris, sat talking with his wife while holding his son on one knee and his daughter on the other. He envied Lee because all he had left on his sentence was two years. If he could stay out of trouble for the next two years, he’d be home with his family. After getting to know him, Bret felt he would not be successful. He was weak and easily swayed. At least Lee’s size was to his advantage. Other inmates were afraid of him. He considered him a friend because he kept the other inmates from beating the hell out of him. As payment, Bret supplied Lee with cigarettes and some of the necessities the prison didn’t think the inmates needed.
Most of the inmates hated him because he came from money. Friends were important for survival in prison. If not for Harris, he’d be someone’s bitch, or worse dead.
He saw his father winding his way through the crowd towards him. Dressed in a high dollar designer suit, he stuck out like a sore thumb. Not many of the inmates had a rich father like Sebastian Robertson. Erect and proud, he sauntered to the table and took the chair across from Bret.
“Where’s mother? I thought she was coming with you.”
“I convinced her to stay home.” His hand swept toward the inmates and their families. “This is no place for a woman like your mother.”
His father was correct. He couldn’t begin to imagine his mother sitting in the dingy room in the midst of hardened criminals. Pampered, coddled women with nice manners didn’t socialize with inmates. “Next time wear casual clothes. I don’t want any unwanted attention from the other inmates.”
His father let out an agitated breath. His stiff, superior tone didn’t help. “I was searched by a guard in places only your mother touches me. There may not be a next time.”
“Sorry father. I know it has to be difficult for a man of your standing to visit his son in prison.”
Sebastian placed his forearms on the edge of the table and leaned in toward him. “I feel tainted.”
Bret stood and moved to the chair next to his father. He didn’t want anyone to hear what he had to say. He leaned in and whispered, “I can’t stay here for the rest of my life.”
“You should have thought about the consequences before you drugged and raped innocent women.” His voice rose in anger. Disgust showed on his face. “Your behavior shows a remarkable lack of control. We gave you everything. You had a privileged upbringing. Where did your mother and I go wrong? You had the best schools, clothes, cars.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Tell me why.”
Bret felt something he rarely felt. He felt ashamed. His father and mother had given him everything. “I don’t know why I raped the women, Father.” He dropped his head and looked at his hands in his lap. He couldn’t look his father in the face. “I’m sick.”
“Maybe we gave you too much. Maybe you feel you are above the law and better than other people.” He slammed his fist on the table. “You raped virgins, young women that had ne
ver had sex before. You preyed on their innocence.”
For a heartbeat, guilt crept into his belly. He almost backed out of what he was going to say. Reality set in and he knew he had to enlist his father’s help. “I’m sorry, Father. If I could go back and change things, I would.” Prison was not the place for him to spend the rest of his life. He would wither and die. Life was hopeless if he had to spend it in prison. “I have a plan to escape.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Will you please lower your voice?” Bret glanced around the room to make sure no one was watching them. “We have to keep this quiet.” The guards still stood watching the crowd of prisoners visiting with their families. No one seemed to notice the intense conversation taking place.
His father looked at him as if he couldn’t believe he was planning something so crazy. “I am putting together the best defense team money can buy. It is possible you will get a reduced sentence. Maybe you’ll get off on a technicality. We can make this mess go away. There is protocol to follow.”
“No, Father. A trial takes too much time. I can’t stay in here another month. My life is in danger. Yesterday I was attacked.” He unzipped his orange jumpsuit and showed his father his abdomen. Huge blue bruises covered his stomach.
“Why would someone attack you? Did you do something to provoke your attacker?”
“No, father, I keep to myself and do my best to stay away from the other inmates.” He stared into his father’s stricken face. “Someone has it out for me. The guards can’t protect me. I can only imagine what will happen next. I could lose my life.”
His father looked pale and shaken. “You need to tell the warden.”
“Then I’m considered a snitch. Prison is a bad place to have enemies and I don’t need to add to my list of haters.”
Bret was loading the washing machine when he was grabbed from behind. The inmate pulled him into a corner where the prison cameras didn’t reach and pounded on his stomach. He kept calling him rich boy and pretty boy. The horror of the beating caused him to shudder. If not for Lee intervening, he would have been killed by the inmate. “You have to get me out of here. I’m afraid for my life.”
Blood of the Falls (Twelve Oaks Farm Book 4) Page 16
