Of Demons & Stones: A Tri-Stone Trilogy

by Anne L. Parks

  He takes my hand, and we carefully head up the stairs.

  I stop abruptly inside the door of my bedroom. The bed is in the center of the room, the bed sheets now a black pile on the floor. There is not much left of the mattress. How is it possible that a few hours ago, Alex and I were snuggled together, talking, laughing, kissing. What would have happened if the fire had started then? What if we had been unable to get out of the house? I close my eyes and shake the thoughts from my mind. It didn't happen. By the grace of God, we were gone before the house went up in flames.

  Graffiti is spray-painted on the walls. Blood-red messages, the most disturbing along the wall where the bed usually abuts.

  Fucking whore. You will pay.

  I grip Alex's hand tighter. "John," I mutter. "He was here last night. I thought I was seeing things. There was a man at the back door when I came downstairs to let you in. He must know you spent the night."

  Alex's eyes darken, and he squeezes my hand. "We'll find him, Kylie. He'll make a mistake, and we'll get him then."

  Jake enters the room and glances at me. "Mr. Stone."

  Alex leans in so Jake can pass whatever information he has out of my earshot.

  Frustrated, I yank on Alex's arm. "Don't keep me in the dark. This is my life, and I deserve to know what's going on."

  Alex nods at Jake.

  "Miss Tate's Jeep is not in the garage. I suspect whoever started the fire also stole the vehicle."

  Alex slides his gaze over to me but speaks to Jake. "Do the police know?"

  Curbing my annoyance with the two men in front of me, I remain stoic and calm on the outside. They apparently need proof that I can handle the circumstances. It's starting to get my dander up, and I resent being treated like a child.

  Jake shakes his head. "No, sir. I wanted to inform you first before speaking with anyone else."

  Alex pulls his hand down his face and blows the air from his lungs. "Let them know. Give them all the tag and registration information, so they can begin looking for it."

  Jake turns to leave but then stops. "Do you want me to include Sysco in the information to the authorities?"

  "No," Alex says. "We'll take care of that part. Text me if you find out anything new."

  A slow burn ignites in my chest. I'm raging inside, and all my thoughts center on how to punish John. The sadistic bastard is going to regret screwing with me. I want to turn the tables on him, torture him in the same sadistic manner. Fury builds within me, my fear now hatred, the line between self-preservation and revenge blurring.

  * * *

  I wrap Alex in an embrace and place my lips close to his ear. I don't need anyone else in the room to overhear me. "We need to talk before discussing John with the authorities."

  Alex grazes the side of my face with his lips, and slides his hand into my hair. To anyone looking at us, it must appear he is comforting me. "Agreed, but we need to get out of here. They'll want to interview you as soon as things settle down."

  "Follow my lead." I step away and force a deep sob from my lungs, heave my shoulders, and bury my face in my hands. "I can't be here anymore. It's too much."

  The act draws the attention of everyone in the room.

  Alex drapes his arm around my shoulder. "Shh...it's okay." He leads me to the door.

  The fire chief steps toward us and puts up his hand to stop us from leaving.

  Alex buries my head in his chest and speaks to the chief. "I'll take her to my house, so she can pull herself together before you question her. I don’t think she'll be much use to you in her current state. My driver has given all my contact information to the police."

  Sitting in the back of the SUV, Alex squeezes my hand and smiles. I don't smile back. I'm pissed, and I want revenge. John’s reign of terror frightens me. It needs to stop. I want justice, and I want it to hurt.

  "I don't care what you have to do, Alex. Find him." My voice is measured and controlled. "I will no longer allow that asshole to hijack my life."

  Alex caresses my face, but his eyes are hard. "We'll find him, Kylie."

  I lean into his hand and close my eyes. Having someone take on my burdens is so foreign to me. It's soothing and strange and a little overwhelming. I've never had a protector, a hero. But clinging to Alex, I soak in this wonderfully weird feeling and allow it to quiet my soul.

  I need to recharge. Going on the offensive against John is bound to get ugly, but I will not be his victim anymore.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Alex hands me a glass of wine and sits down next to me on the couch in the family room.

  I down half the glass. "I need to tell the police everything. I want them to find John, arrest him, and prosecute him. I want him convicted and sent away."

  Alex narrows his eyes, and stares at me. "It ties my hands if we handle it your way, Kylie."

  "I understand, and without wanting any details of your plan to destroy him, let me just say this. I don't want him dead, Alex. Not because I feel empathy for him. I feel nothing but hostility and loathing. He needs to experience immense pain. Sitting in prison, losing everything he holds most dear, maybe he'll become the object of a fellow prisoner’s obsession. I don't care. All I want is to visit him every week so that he can see —that I’m free. Free of him and his sadistic, twisted mind-fuck. And I want him to see that I survived. I won, and he lost."

  Alex lifts his eyebrows and scrubs his hand along his jaw. But there's a flicker in his eyes. "We'll do it your way. I'll support you, however you decide to handle it. Just tell me what you need from me."

  For the first time since I saw the spray-painted artwork above my bed, my tough façade cracks. This man holds my heart in his hands, but it no longer terrifies me to be this vulnerable. I feel relief. I know how deeply he cares for me and wants to protect me. Letting him doesn't make me weak. It empowers me. I'm stronger, secure in the knowledge that he is there to back me up when I need him.

  I rest my forehead against his. "Just help me get through this. You're the only person I've ever told. I'm scared they won't believe me."

  Tears roll down my cheeks. The weight of everything that's happened, and the prospect of what is to come, sits on my chest like a heavy boulder, suffocating me.

  His lips press softly against mine, his voice a whisper. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be here."

  I rest my head on his chest, and curl into him. "Can you just hold me, please?"

  He holds me, tight and secure. "For as long as you need, baby, and a lifetime more."

  Sergeants Reyes and Carter sit on the couch across from Alex and me in the round living room. I have a death grip on Alex's hand which has not subsided, even though I've completed the horror story that is my relationship with John Sysco. Sergeant Carter takes notes on his pad. Reyes stares at me, his features blank, but I swear I can see the wheels churn in his head. I just can't tell if he believes me or thinks I'm a scorned ex-girlfriend bent on revenge.

  "Can I ask why you didn't report any of this earlier?" Carter asks without looking up, still writing furiously.

  I clear my throat and force back the tears. "John threatened me. He said he would destroy me and ruin me in the legal community. He's well-liked and well known and has influential friends. I believed him. I didn't want what happened to me to become front-page news. I figured if I ended our romantic relationship but remained professional with him, he would leave me alone." I shrug. "It worked for a while."

  Carter lifts his head. "What changed?"

  I look over at Alex. "I was promoted and assigned high profile cases ahead of him. I also started dating Alex, which seems to be what finally sent John into a tailspin."

  Carter sighs, closes his notepad, and stands. "I think that should do it for right now. I'll file a report, and you'll need to sign it. We'll call you if we need anything else or if we find your vehicle."

  Reyes remains seated and stares at me intently. "We'll need to get pictures of the scars on your back, Miss Tate."

 
; Alex is on his feet in a flash. "Absolutely not."

  Reyes doesn't flinch, slowly gets up, and takes a step toward Alex.

  Carter moves in between the men. "Okay, let's everyone take a deep breath."

  "Alex." I try to get his attention on me, and tug on his hand. "Alex."

  He cuts his gaze over to mine.

  "It's okay." I keep my tone soft and even and hope I can defuse the tension in the room. "I'm okay. It's what they need to build a case." I face Sergeant Reyes. "Do you have a camera with you?"

  Reyes gives a quick nod to Carter, who retrieves the camera from the bag on the floor.

  I extricate my hand from Alex's firm grip, step in front of him, and grasp his chin so that his eyes meet mine. "I'm okay. Just stay close, okay?"

  Alex rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes. We stand that way for a moment. I reach under my shirt and unhook my bra. I raise my top and expose my back. Alex places his hands on either side of my face, gazes deep inside me, and an impenetrable force field cocoons me. Shields me from the humiliation of uncovering a part of me that I have worked so hard to keep locked away.

  The camera clicks and clicks and clicks.

  "Jesus Christ," Carter mumbles.

  Tears sit on the rim of my eyes and fall down my cheeks.

  Alex mouths, It's okay, baby. I'm here, and swipes at my tears with his thumbs.

  "We're done, ma'am." Sergeant Reyes's voice is quiet.

  I let my shirt fall so that my back is covered again, pivot, and lean against Alex. His arms cross my chest, my very own sentinel standing guard over me.

  Reyes glances at me but quickly diverts his gaze from mine. "We're very sorry to put you through that, but the pictures will aid in the investigation, and later in court."

  "I know, Sergeant. I'm fine. Thank you."

  I can hear Alex grinding his teeth behind me, and he breathes in deeply.

  My overprotective Alex.

  Jake appears at the door and shows the police officers out. Alex turns me, tightly wrapping his arms around me. I bury my face in his chest and breathe him in, his spicy, musky scent slowing burning through my chest like a good scotch.

  "Alex?" My voice is muffled against his chest.

  "Yes, baby?"

  "Can you hook my bra, please?"

  Alex chuckles, and moves his hands under my shirt.

  I smile. I did it. I feel invincible, and I know it's due in large part to the man who is much better at unhooking bras than hooking them.

  My hero, my protector.

  My Alex.

  Shouts pull me from deep sleep. I roll onto my side and try to focus as my head clears.

  Alex is thrashing. His arm flies through the darkness and hits me hard in the face. Pain lances through my nose, straight between my eyes. I scramble away from him to block any further strikes. I switch on the lamp that sits on the bedside table. No blood, but the sting is making my eyes water.

  Alex is on his back, writhing, clenching the sheets in his fists. "No, don't hurt her!"

  Shit! A nightmare.

  I move quickly onto my knees and try to wake him. "Alex!"

  "No, don't leave me. Please, you can't die." He kicks at the air. "You killed her. You killed her."

  I straddle his chest, my knees on top of his arms, pinning them down. I'm not sure how I'm able to do this, but he hasn't bucked me off yet. I need to get him to wake up before he flings me across the room. I grasp the sides of his face, and it takes all my strength to hold him still.

  "Alex, wake up. Come on, baby, wake up."

  Alex's eyes fly open, wide and wild. He's not fully awake. If he's confused, he could mistake me for an aggressor.

  I lean over and just barely graze his lips. "Alex, baby, I'm here. You're okay."

  He settles, his arms and legs slacken, and his body relaxes. He opens his eyes. I'm not sure he recognizes me, the way his eyebrows are drawn together so tightly. He blinks a few times, and his eyes widen. "Kylie?"

  All the color drains from his face, and my heart constricts. I hate seeing him in such pain, and I have no idea how to help him. There's still so much he keeps to himself, and for whatever reason, he refuses to talk about it. It's frustrating as hell, but also heartbreaking. I wish I could convey how sharing even the deepest darkest secrets with someone I trust, frees my soul.

  I slide off of him as he sits up. "You were having a nightmare, babe." I caress his face. I wish I could crawl inside his head, see his dreams, his fears, and discover what haunts him, so I can make it all go away.

  "Are you okay?" His hands travel over my body, his eyes inspecting me for injuries he might have inflicted. "Did I hurt you?"

  "No, I'm fine." I lie, but there is no way I'm going to tell him that he hit me in the throes of his nightmare. It would hurt him more than the actual hit, and I can't do that to him. "Alex, who died?"

  A flicker of fear hits his eyes. "What did I say?"

  "Just that someone was killed."

  He stares at me, holds his breath before releasing a exhale.

  He's shutting down. I can see it in the far off look in his eyes.

  I place my hand in the center of his chest. "Alex, please talk to me."

  He looks away from me. "I don't remember, Kylie."

  I raise his chin, so our eyes meet. I need him to see me, hear me, and use my strength. "I'm here, Alex, and I'm not going anywhere. I can be that safe place for you. I want you to trust me. I promise I will try to help you, even if that means just listening."

  He holds my gaze. He slides his hand to the back of my head, draws me forward, and his lips ravage mine. In one swift movement, he lifts my hips and lowers me to the bed. Our tongues tangle together, and his mouth pushes hard against mine. I savor the minty taste, a contrast to the heat of our kiss. He pushes deeper, but it's still not enough to satisfy me. I will never get enough of him and will always want more.

  Smoothly gliding under my camisole, he cups my breast, squeezes it firmly, and I can't contain my moan. He releases my mouth and encircles my hard nipple, my body electrified by the mix of bites and kisses. I arch my back, spikes of pain and pleasure ravage my body, and bring me to the brink of ecstasy. He releases my nipple, and I try to catch my breath, surrendering the death grip I have on the sheets beneath me.

  My erratic breathing sounds loud in my ears, especially in the quiet of the night. He drags his lips over my abdomen. My pajama pants slide down my legs, and he spreads them apart. Skimming tiny kisses along my inner thigh and over the small triangle of hair at the apex. Warm and wet, he drags his tongue over the lips of my sex. My mind is fuzzy with desire. I twist my fingers in his hair, and I push my hips against him. He flicks the tip of his tongue against the hard button, teasing it, and driving me nearly insane.

  Slowly, he licks across the hot wet skin, teasing me at my opening. When he plunges in, my breath catches, and I crash my hips against him. Excruciatingly slow, he moves his tongue in and out. Every thrust causes me to moan louder. I buck against him, wild and ravenous. Spikes of pleasure burn through my body. I'm at a fever pitch, close to tears, as the exquisiteness of the movement intensifies. I want him deeper. He grabs my ass and squeezes firmly, pulling me onto his hot, thick tongue. Fully immersed, he flicks his tongue against a spot that sends sparks through my body.

  "Oh, God, Alex." I shift my hips, so close to orgasm but not able to come. "Please, Alex. Please."

  He slips his hand over my abdomen, and presses his thumb against my clit. My orgasm takes hold of me, sends me into a frenzy. I jerk and buck. Every orgasm with Alex is new and exciting and intense. This one is the most intense yet. It ripples through my body and sends shivers up and down my spine. as Alex ascends, kissing me on my abdomen, breasts, and moving to my mouth.

  "Alex." I thrust my hands into his hair once again.

  His erection throbs against my leg. Heat pulses through my core. The need to have him again is overpowering.

  The stormy blue of his eyes darkens. "I need
to be inside you, baby," he growls. "I need to be deep inside you." Frantically, his kisses flit between my mouth, cheeks, and along my jaw. "I can't get enough of you, Kylie. I need you. I need all of you."

  I throw back my head. "I'm yours, Alex, all yours. Only yours."

  He groans, and his thrusts come faster, more urgent. My core tightens, and I try to match his insistence. I moan, perch atop my climax, and teeter on the brink of release. I hold back. I want to come with Alex. I claw at his back, unable to stand it any longer, and the dam bursts again.

  "Oh...Jesus...Kylie." He arches his back while still thrusting into me. Slowing, he comes down from his orgasm.

  My fingers are white when I release my grip on his head, the red slowly seeping along the lengths. Lowering himself onto me, Alex nestles in the crook of my neck. I love the weight of him on me, the pounding of his chest against mine. I’m out of breath and satiated. We lie quietly, wrap up in each other, and slow our breathing.

  "Thank you, Kylie," Alex whispers in my ear.

  I smile. This is what he needed to get past the nightmare. I remember those times, but I had no one to help me through them until recently. It hurts, though, that Alex isn't ready to talk about what haunts him. I can't take it personally. I know this in my head. But my heart seizes, and I can only hope he'll trust me soon.

  I kiss his forehead."Always, babe. I'll do anything for you. Always."

  It doesn't take long before Alex is snoring softly and has slipped back into a deep sleep. I hold him. Although I don't have all the pieces to the puzzles, the picture is starting to take shape from the few bits of evidence I've been able to glean. Whatever he's keeping locked away involves abuse. And that abuse might've lead to someone's death.

  I have no idea who was abused or who died. I pray the reason Alex is keeping this from me isn't because he was the abuser.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  My eyes open to the most beautiful sea of blue gazing back at me.

  "Good morning, baby," Alex says, and brushes the hair from my eyes.