Boxed Set: Traitorous Heart Volumes 1-6 (The Traitorous Heart Series)
Page 13
Both of her hands grabbed hold of my ass. Breaking our kiss, I made my way down to her breasts, flicking each nipple until they stood at attention.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” I said, my eyes meeting hers.
It seemed like she would deny it, but she kept quiet.
“I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you,” I continued.
Her eyes got misty. “Fuck me,” she pleaded.
“Gladly,” I said, pulling out and then shoving my cock back in.
She wrapped her hands under her knees, pulling them up to her hips, allowing my cock to go deeper. I leaned back up, resting my ass on my heels so that I could watch my cock rock in and out. Her creamy juices seemed to welcome, beg. “You’re so tight. So wet.”
Katie moaned as I slid back inside. “Deeper,” she said, breathless.
I knew how to take her over the edge. I picked up one leg, placing her calf on my shoulder, then turned her on her side and dove in. I was so deep I touched the opening to her womb. “You feel that,” I said, picking up the tempo.
She nodded, arching her head, biting at her pillow. “God, that feels amazing,” she panted.
I turned her over so that she was practically on her stomach. Spread her ass so that I could see the way the skin around her pussy moved as I dove in and out. Every inch of her was lovely. I leaned over her back, grabbing hold of her hair and pinching her nipple with just the right amount of pressure.
“Oh, fuck,” she cried. “God. It feels so fucking good. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” She moaned the words over and over.
Her body tightened around my cock and then her orgasm crested and shook. I couldn’t hold on any longer and released with one final shove. I lifted her leg around so Katie was on her back and then lay on top of her. Our bodies fit together perfectly.
After several minutes, she said, “I don’t want you to go.”
I smiled, burying my face in her hair. It smelled like strawberries and cream. I gently bit her earlobe. “I can stay as long as you’d like.”
She pushed my face back so that she could see my eyes. “I mean I don’t want you to move to LA.”
So that was what happened last night. She’d heard. Apparently not an accurate story. “I’m not moving there. At least not yet. I’m going to discuss a contract. That’s it. I shouldn’t be gone more than a few days.” It didn’t look like she believed me. “Besides, my body craves yours like a bear craves honey.”
She nodded.
“And I don’t leave until Friday. So we can do this as often as you’d like. In fact, I don’t need to get out of bed until tonight. And it’s only,” I glanced at the alarm clock next to her bed, “nine thirty, so that gives us lots— ”
“Shit,” she swore, trying to push me off. “Birdy. Her hearing is at ten. Cage is waiting downstairs.”
So that’s who waited in the limo. “You’d better hurry.” I shifted, rolling on my side.
She bolted from the bed, grabbed her underthings, and ran into the bathroom. “Mother fuck,” I heard her swear again.
I pulled on my clothes and went down the hall to the bathroom. She was in the process of tugging on a heather gray dress. It had black pinstripes and a small black belt. It hugged her body beautifully. “You look beautiful,” I said, helping her zip up the back.
“Thanks,” she barely glanced over before she ran into her bedroom and grabbed a pair of black heels. “I’ve gotta go.” She switched her phone and wallet from a black bag to a dark gray one.
“Can I see you tonight?”
She paused. “I’ll text you.”
Sounded good.
CHAPTER 5
Katie
Griffin followed me out the door. I locked it. “See ya.” I didn’t wait as I dashed down the stairs and burst through the door.
Cage was on his way and I ran into him. “Hey. Sorry. I’m ready. Let’s go.”
“Good. I was worried.” He glanced above my head and behind at the entry to my building.
I knew he saw Griffin.
“Hey Cage,” I heard Griffin say. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” He began to whistle. Smug asshole.
“Sure,” Cage answered.
My face burned hot. Men and their need to gloat, like peacocks flashing their feathers. I opened the door to Cage’s limo and climbed inside. Cage got in too.
Once the door was closed, the driver took off. I couldn’t look at Cage, too embarrassed.
“After the hearing with Birdy, I’ve got to make an appearance at the office. But later I intend to stop by Reid’s gym, see if I can get any information on him. Did you know Birdy had a membership there too?”
That got my attention. “No. Who told you that?”
“Birdy. I guess she, Reid, Griffin, and even Brian have permanent memberships. Something about the man owning the place owing their families.”
I shook my head. “That’s news to me.”
“Did you want to meet there and we can talk to the staff together?”
I debated. How much did I really want to know about Birdy? Maybe some secrets were best left buried. I’d known very little about Reid. Digging up his past had revealed a whole other person. He’d lived a completely different life I’d known nothing about. Knowing had changed my opinion of him. It stood to reason that Birdy had secrets too. Would finding out change my opinion of her?
“I’ll let you know.” I decided that after Birdy’s hearing I would go back to the source. My apartment. It was time to do some snooping, time to find out what other secrets Birdy had been hiding.
CHAPTER 6
Katie
We pulled up next to the courthouse. It was an imposing building with a grand staircase leading up to four Romanesque pillars. The steps were swarming with news teams. All the big channels were there, as were many I’d never heard of. Even the entertainment channel was there.
“I had no idea Birdy could cause such a ruckus,” Cage said.
“She’s definitely a thing,” I said, swallowing. I didn’t want to deal with the questions.
Cage’s limo driver opened the door.
“Ready?” He asked, squeezing my hand.
“Not really.”
“Me either. But I’m her lawyer and you’re her best friend. We gotta do this.”
My stomach rolled. “Okay.”
Cage got out first and took the bulk of the reporters armed with microphones rushing him. He walked and talked.
I got out and walked behind him. At first no one noticed I was there, and I thought I’d make it inside unscathed.
But then a girl shouted. That’s Birdy’s friend. What’s her name?” And I was swiftly surrounded.
Questions came at me faster than I could possibly answer.
“How’s Birdy?” A woman with bright blond hair in the shape of a football helmet asked.
“She’s in jail for a crime she didn’t commit. I think it’s safe to say she’s had better weeks.” Cage paused halfway up the stairs, looking for something. When his eyes caught mine he smiled, encouraging. I kept walking.
“Have you been to see her?” That question was from a young woman holding a Channel 5 microphone. Her brown eyes and big smile were inviting. I’d seen her before, doing local pieces. She seemed fairly competent.
“Yes, just yesterday, in fact.”
Some munch-head asked, “Did she do it?”
I chose not to respond to that piece of bullshit question.
“What’s she going to be wearing?” The question from a guy at the entertainment channel.
I thought about shouting, telling them all to back the fuck up and leave me alone. Instead I smiled sweetly. “You’ll see.”
I was grateful no one realized I was Reid’s fiancée. Had they known, the questions might have been worse. More personal. Or maybe they did know but didn’t care. That was very likely.
When my feet found the top step, Cage was waiting. He took my elbow.
“No more questions,” he s
aid.
We went inside and I heaved a sigh of relief.
Once the doors closed I was grateful and nearly sagged into Cage.
“Next time we might need to bring some muscle,” he said, smirking.
“Probably not a bad idea.” I adjusted the belt at my waist, making sure it was centered, then straightened up and ran a hand through my hair.
The New York City courthouse had been built in the late eighteen hundreds, but it had gone through a major overhaul in two-thousand-and-one. It looked new, with brass fixtures and marble. A mixture of excitement and trepidation seemed to fill the empty spaces. The smell of ink, old books, and cheap coffee permeated the air. Had I not been nervous about what would happen with Birdy, I’d have loved spending time in that place.
“We’re in here.”
A security guard opened the door for us. I went in first, checked out the long bench made of oak. It’d been stained a medium color that was popular in the late seventies. The floor was a dark blue. I guessed one of the two tables was for the plaintiffs’ counsel and one for the defendants’ counsel. There were already men and one woman sitting at both tables. Birdy’s dad was there as well.
The courtroom was packed. Nearly every seat had been taken. News crews stood antsy in the back.
Her dad glanced back. Nodded. No warm smile. No hi, how ya doin’? None of the pleasantries.
I returned it.
“Have a seat right here. I’ve got to go over some paperwork. Get ready,” Cage said.
“Good luck,” I told Cage as he walked away.
He pushed his way through the swinging wooden door and took a seat next to Birdy’s dad. Jonathan said something. Cage responded. Jonathan’s features were angry. Cage steeled his, working to contain his emotion. Their whisperings grew louder. I heard Jonathan mention Birdy’s name several times and wondered what he was saying.
A side door opened. Birdy was ushered in. I stood, hoping she would notice me amongst all the other people in the crowded courtroom. At the sight of her everyone began talking, until the room sounded like a gaggle of seagulls.
When Birdy finally saw me, I waved. She tried to smile, but didn’t quite get there. “I worried you wouldn’t come,” she mouthed.
“I’m here.” I sat.
Birdy’s wrists and ankles were cuffed. A rather short chain between her ankles made her shuffle instead of walk. She looked nice in the suit I brought. Her blond curls had been combed into place and they’d let her wear makeup. She almost looked like herself. Not quite though. All the bubbliness that normally oozed out of her was gone.
Once Birdy was seated, the police officers unhooked the cuffs. She massaged her wrists. I noticed her dad didn’t say another word, not to her or to anyone. He clamped his lips shut and kept them tight. It looked like she tried to talk to him, but he didn’t respond.
Asshole, I thought, leaning back, crossing my legs.
The bailiff came in. “All rise for the Honorable Devin Stevenson.”
I stood, as did everyone else in the crowded courtroom.
The judge was a crotchety looking old guy with salt and pepper hair, dark brown eyes, and a demeanor that said Mess with the bull, you’ll get the horns. He had reading glasses sitting on the end of his nose. He’d brought in a box of something. I couldn’t tell what it was.
After he sat, the bailiff said, “You may now be seated.”
Everyone sat.
The judge picked up a folder, slid his glasses up, and read. “This is a hearing for a Miss Pamela Bird?” He glanced at both tables as he spoke.
“Yes, your honor,” Cage said, standing.
The judge pressed his lips together. “Proceed.”
CHAPTER 6
Katie
First Birdy’s parole was denied, and then the judge agreed with the prosecution to expedite the trial. It was set to begin in four weeks. She’d been devastated. Her dad, the Jonathan Bird, immediately left the courtroom after the proceedings. He didn’t say a single word to his daughter.
Birdy cried. She tried to climb over the wood partition and had to be physically removed from the courtroom. A paparazzo snapped several photos. I had no doubt Birdy’s photo would end up in one of the gossip magazines. I felt so bad, but, as I promised, I would figure out the truth. I would find out who’d actually killed Reid.
I needed to look through Birdy’s stuff.
Cage dropped me off. “Text later,” he said.
“I will.”
After I got upstairs I locked the door, changed out of my dress and into a pair of sweats, took out my contacts and put on my black-framed glasses, then got to work.
That meant I had to do something completely against what I’d ever done before. I had to snoop in Birdy’s things.
I poured myself a glass of wine, took and giant gulp, and walked into her bedroom. It was a mess. Designer clothes and shoes were everywhere, mostly the floor. They were also on her bed, spilling out of her closet, and hanging from picture frames and doorknobs. Her bedspread draped half on and half off the floor. Near the window was a dresser. I danced my way carefully through the clothes and the shoes on the floor to get there.
A trinket box overflowing with all kinds of jewelry sat on top of the dresser. I rifled through it, picking up each pretty piece and holding it to the light. Birdy had great taste.
I gulped another large drink of wine, beginning to feel warm.
Opening the first drawer was difficult. It was her underwear drawer. I dug through it until I reached the bottom, where I found a manila envelope. I polished off the wine, set the empty glass on the dresser, and walked over to the bed. Opening the clasp, I looked inside. There were papers, photographs, and an old fashioned key attached to a silver chain. I shook the contents on to the bed and picked up the key. It was dainty, intricate. There was an inscription on the long portion of the key. To: P.B. You’re always in my heart. Love: H.J. I guessed the PB was Pamela Bird, but HJ? I thought through the names of her previous boyfriends, relatives, and so on. No one came to mind.
I picked up the photographs. The edges were bent and worn. I skimmed through the pictures. The curly blond hair made it easy to recognize that it was Birdy through the years.
Riding a sparkly blue tricycle.
Hanging upside down on the monkey bars.
Her sixth grade graduation.
In one she was kissing another girl on the cheek. After staring for several more seconds I recognized the other girl in the photo was me.
“But we didn’t meet until college.” I spoke aloud, too shocked to keep the words inside.
There was an official document. A birth certificate. It was Birdy’s. The name read: Pamela Blue Bird. She weighed six pounds, ten ounces and was twenty-one and a half inches long. There was a print of her feet. They were tiny and adorable.
I kept reading.
Mother: Barbara Stacy Kellogg
I knew Kellogg was her mother’s maiden name.
Father: Harold Don Jayne
“What. The. Fuck.” That couldn’t be right. I read the name again. Several times. Then I flipped the document over, hoping it would be a fake. When I realized it wasn’t I tossed it on the floor, stood, picked up my wine glass, and went to the kitchen where I refilled it. I chugged it and filled it again.
Harold Don Jayne was my father’s name, which meant Birdy and I were half-sisters.
I went back into her room. There was a final piece of paper I hadn’t looked at. It looked like worn stationary. A letter. I opened it and recognized the lazy scrawl that was my dad’s handwriting.
Dear Pam,
Thank you for agreeing to meet for lunch the other day. I so enjoyed the little bit of time we had to get to know each other. I was surprised that you sought me out. Curious about how you came to discover the truth. When you brought your birth certificate I was astonished such a document was in your mother’s possession.
By all accounts your father is Jonathan Bird. As far as I know your mother told no on
e the truth. Certainly not Jonathan. She made me swear not to tell my wife. I couldn’t keep it from her for long, though. By the time you turned one, Daisy knew. She and I agreed to honor Barbara’s wishes though. I stayed away.
Then fate stepped in. Somehow my daughters ended up as roommates at the same college.
The first time I saw you it was all I could do not to wrap my arms around you and tell you who I was. As you can see from the pictures I stayed away, but never too far or for too long.
I hope now that you’re of age you’ll allow us to get to know each other. I know my Katie adores you. Daisy and I do too.
Always in my heart,
Harold
My head was spinning. Birdy had known the truth for quite a while. I couldn’t believe it. How could she and my mom and dad keep something so huge a secret? And why?
My phone chimed in the other room. I still had a lot of searching to do. If drawer number one was any indication about what other secrets Birdy had, I was in for a crazy ride.
But I needed a break, more wine, and a smoke.
CHAPTER 7
Griffin
It was that time again—the weekly dinner with my father. Dorvey’s was busy tonight. A line extended out the front door. I walked past waiting patrons and went inside.
The hostess greeted me by name. I didn’t know hers. “Hey, Mr. Maxwell.” She picked up a menu even though I didn’t need it. My father and I had been coming here for so long the manager kept the same table reserved for us. Not to mention I had the menu memorized. Tonight I would have steak and potatoes with a side of grilled asparagus. The hostess reached the table and smiled. I sat.
“Hey, Dad.”
His face lit up with a smile. I knew it was meant more for the hostess, not for me. Appearances were everything. My dad had recently been to the Bahamas on a golf-slash-work trip. It showed in his already tanned skin.