Swinging his feet to an oval rug, he eased out of bed and crept down the hallway, sticking to the outer edges to appease the groaning floorboards. In the kitchen, he squinted against the Philco’s glare. The glass jug on the top shelf called his name. He shut the door, clothing his naked body in darkness, and chugged cold water like he just finished a marathon. Pausing for breath, movement outside the window drew him to the sink. Without looking, he set the jug on the counter and waited for his night vision to heal from the fridge’s blast. The moon had shifted in the sky since they went to bed and it was darker now, the water barely visible beyond the backyard.
The French doors in the living room yielded the same murky results so he quietly opened a door and slipped outside. The air was warm, the patio tiles cold beneath his feet. His eyes scanned the trees on both sides of the property, diving into the inky blackness stretching beyond. Detecting nothing, he went down to the water’s edge and relieved himself into the lake. His stream was extra loud in the silence blanketing the grounds. Even the frogs and crickets had called it a night. Faint moonlight turned his tanned skin gray, painting shadows beneath the muscles in his chest and arms. Shaking, Dean turned and stopped, adrenaline surging.
“Hello, Dean.” A woman stepped into the moonlight, exposing a nurse’s uniform and a gun hanging heavy in her hand. “Miss me?”
Balling his hands into fists, anger clouded his judgement and, for a long moment, he forgot he was standing there naked. “Megan!”
Chapter Six
JUST ONE MORE TIME
Megan’s eyes dropped between his legs, the ghost of a grin playing on her lips. “I know I’ve missed you.”
Dean blinked to clear the impossible from his eyes but she was still standing there with dried blood on a white dress. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed, throwing his hands over his privates.
Mascara ran from her eyes in oily streaks, the wind tugging at her long blond hair. “I had to see you.”
“You can’t be here,” he whispered, glancing at the dark cabin behind her.
Barely looking over her shoulder, Megan smiled. “I’ll make you a deal,” she said, swinging one black high heel in front of the other until he could see her broken nose. “You fuck me good one last time and I won’t kill Evy.” She stopped in front of him. “I’ll leave you alone to start the family you’ve always wanted.”
Muscles tensed like cords through his neck. “I’m calling the police,” he said, stepping around her.
Yanking the handgun up, she pointed it at his chest. He stopped on a dime, sending a carnival grin digging into her cheekbones. “Ah, ah, ah,” she said, wagging the revolver at him in one hand and unbuttoning her uniform with the other. “Not until we’re done here first, lover-boy.” The nurse’s garb slid down her legs, crumpling around a pair of muddy heels. Her curvy body glistened in the moonlight. Sticking a leg out, she struck a pose. “You like?”
Dean’s face soured. “Are you crazy?” he said, popping the most rhetorical question of the century. “I’m married now!”
Megan stepped out of the dress and kicked off her shoes, dropping three inches to the grass. “I’ll kill her in front of you, Dean. You know I will. I have nothing left to lose. You took everything from me.”
“I didn’t take…” His chest fell with a long exhale. “Megan, you have a child to think about now,” he said in a calm voice, glancing at the axe stuck in the tree stump behind her. “If you ever want to see that little boy again…”
“His name is Jack!” Her echo carried across the lake, making him wince. “After all this time, you still don’t get it, do you?” Tilting her head to one side, she set her jaw against the anger flaring in her eyes. “It’s you, Dean, who I can’t stop thinking about. It’s always been you.”
Covering his crotch, he inched closer, surprised and unnerved by the boldness of his legs. “We can fix this.”
“Get your hands up.”
“Megan, listen to me, you just need some help and you won’t feel this way anymore. I promise.”
“You and your promises, Dean Jacobs.”
“Megan…”
“Get your hands up!” She tightened her aim and Dean had no choice in the matter. She would shoot him in the chest if he didn’t obey. He’d seen that look in her eyes before. It was there when she tried forcing Evy to blow him in the kitchen at Sugars. Just before she shot him in the shoulder.
“Okay,” he panted, slowly pulling his hands from his body and reaching for the stars. “Just relax, everything is going to be okay.”
Her eyes widened at the sight of him. Sweeping a tongue across her lips, she gestured with the weapon. “Touch yourself.”
A far-off ringing started up in his left ear “What?”
“Reach down with one hand and touch yourself,” she said, running two fingers down her flat belly. “Do it,” she whispered.
The cabin was still dark and if Evy woke up now, this would get worse in a hurry. Much worse. He had to remain calm and think clearly. At least more clearly than Megan. Slowly lowering one arm, his eyes hitched on the axe. “There, is that better?”
Her brow wrinkled, fingers sliding up and down her glistening lips below. “You’re just covering it again, Dean. I meant, tug on it. Hard!”
Stopping in front of her, the cold gun barrel settled in his chest. He peered down into her wild eyes and, reluctantly, began pumping his dick in his hand. “I’ll do whatever you want, but no one can ever know,” he said, glancing at the unlit cabin. “And then this is done.”
“Forever.” Pulling her hand up, she traced his lips with a slick finger. “I promise it will feel good.”
He sharpened his gaze. “Forever?”
Nodding rapidly, she reached down between their naked bodies and found him warm and full of blood. She watched his face tighten and Dean cringed, hating himself for responding. He didn’t want to respond. He wanted to prove to her that this would never work between them. That he wasn’t interested by a longshot.
“See? You do like it,” Megan whispered, admiring the fruits of her labor. Her palm glided up his swollen shaft, running over the rim and sliding back down again.
Dean balled his hands into fists, pulse thudding in the hollow of his throat. His eyes snapped to the axe. “I don’t have a condom.”
“You don’t need one,” Megan whispered, stroking him harder. “I want you to cum inside me. But if you cum too quick, I’ll kill the both of you.”
His breath lodged in the back of his throat. She squeezed harder and, in a silver blur, Dean grabbed the gun and it went off with a silent flash of white hot light. Landing on his back, he stared into the black sky above, wondering how long it would take to bleed out. Wondering if he had enough time to tell his wife he loved her one more time. His eyes blurred the whirling ceiling fan until it appeared to spin in reverse. The wavering image of Megan curled up into the blades, shredding to ribbons. Releasing a stubborn breath, he sat up and pulled wet hair from his face. Evy stirred next to him in bed and relief pried open his lungs one breath at a time. Carefully, he pulled the bedsheet back, grimacing when it snagged on his erection. He felt guilty getting hard over a nightmare like that and had to get out of the room to clear his head.
In the kitchen, the water jug was just as cold as it was in his nightmare. Dean saw Megan standing in the corners where tar-like shadows collected en masse. Closing the fridge, he cloaked his nudity in darkness and the panty door slowly creaked open behind him. Turning, his pulse jumped when Megan stepped out with blood on her dress and a knife wrapped in a fist. He closed his eyes and blew out a calming breath, praying she wasn’t coming closer. Praying she wasn’t really there. Cracking his eyelids apart, he stared at the pantry door. It was still shut. The chalkboard his mother used to write grocery lists on still tacked to the back. Leaning against the counter, he hung his head. It would always be like this. Megan and her father would haunt Dean and Evy for the rest of their lives. Day or night. Even Brooke and Ben
would take on the occasional night terror thanks to his self-centeredness. Exhaling, he thought back to the night he first laid eyes on Megan. He’d noticed her dancing with a friend at some loud club trying too hard to be cool. When she saw him watching, she turned up the dirty and he should’ve seen the crazy in her eyes. Heard it slither from those pouty red lips. But he hadn’t. His single-minded desire preempted any warning signs and, in the end, he unleashed his prowess upon the truly insane. Sooner or later, it was bound to happen. When you dance with the devil, you’re going to get burned.
“Shit,” he whispered, setting the jug down and going into the living room. Staring past his reflection in the French doors, he watched ghostly tendrils of fog creep from the lake and crawl across the grass. He stepped outside and inhaled the crisp air to clear his head. The patio tiles were cold beneath his feet and it was eerily quiet. The kind you never hear in the city unless you’re dead. His feet found the dew-covered grass and his heart did a small flip when he noticed the axe missing from the stump. Brow folding, he stopped on the dock and relieved himself into the lake, trying to remember where he left it after loading up the fire pit. Megan appeared in the water, her crooked smile rippling back at him. He shivered and peed on her face. The nightmare seemed so real. So dreadful. Like there was no escape even though it was over. Staring across the water, he forced himself to relax. It was beautiful at this time of night. Like he was the only person on the entire planet. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes drew to the empty tree stump.
A branch snapped off to the left, drawing his pinched gaze into the trees bordering the western edge of the property. Shaking, he turned for the cabin, expecting Megan to be standing there in all her disheveled glory. When she wasn’t, he headed up a slight incline toward the patio. Another branch snapped. This time closer. Kirby’s words skidded through his mind.
We got a berry shortage around here this season, so keep your food and garbage under wraps like your daddy taught ya.
Dean peered into the darkened tree line, his nudity suddenly making him feel extremely vulnerable.
The bears been comin around lookin for scraps and you know how they can smell that stuff a mile away.
Grabbing a club of split wood from a rack near the stump, he crept closer to the trees, wishing he had that fucking axe, needing to confirm it was anything but Megan. He would rather take his chances against a five-hundred-pound black bear than her. His toes found the edge of the woods, stopping on a bed of pine needles. Blinking, a graphic premonition of a pissed off mama bear dragging him into the trees played out in fast forward.
“Screw this,” he muttered, turning for the cabin and planting roots in the grass. His heart dropped into the bottom of his stomach with a wet splat. Cocking the club back in both hands, he widened his stance and readied himself for the beast charging across the yard. It came right at him. Black fur jiggled around its muscular neck. Sharp teeth shone in the moonlight. Decelerating, the creature came to a stop and took a seat in the grass, panting up at Dean.
His eyebrows dipped. Blowing out an uneasy breath, he lowered the club and let the shiny black lab inspect his hand. “Where’d you come from, buddy?” Passing the test, he massaged the dog behind the ears before checking its tags, which were impossible to read in the dark.
Setting his hands on his hips, he pressed his lips together. “Are you lost?”
The dog pumped a paw through the air at him.
Dean scratched his head and searched the empty yard. “Hungry?” The dog pumped the paw again and he grunted. “Let’s get you something to eat and see if we can figure out where you live. Okay?”
“Charlie?”
Looking up, Dean saw a woman rushing closer with a short, red robe flapping around her. Long blond hair flew out behind and, for a thunderstruck second, he thought it was Megan. Thought this time it was real. Heart racing, his fingers coiled around the club of wood.
“Charlie! That is a bad dog.” The woman bent over and leashed Charlie, giving Dean a good look down her robe. Scolding Charlie, her eyes hitched on Dean’s midsection.
Tossing the wood off to the side, he cupped his privates and sidestepped around her.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry,” she apologized, straightening up and making no attempt to corral her imposing chest. “He likes to take off on us sometimes.”
“Glad you found him,” he replied, hurrying across the wet grass.
“I’m Trisha Osborne.” She towed Charlie back the way she came. “My husband, Jim, and I are staying in the cabin next door for the week,” she admitted. “Did you just get here?”
“We did,” he answered, trying not to give up his back or frontside.
“Sorry again about Charlie,” she said, unabashedly watching him scuttle across the patio. “He’s a very willful dog!”
Giving a halfhearted wave, Dean slipped inside and shut and locked the door. He hid behind a curtain, fogging the glass with his racing breath and watching Trisha adjust her robe and walk Charlie into the trees. Leaning against the door, he sighed. Embarrassment flooded his system, leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He imagined Trisha out searching for her willful dog when Evy was busy blowing him in the front yard last night. A cringeworthy shudder ran through him. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned, tiptoeing back into the bedroom and wondering if he should tell Evy about the woman who just saw him buck-naked.
Chapter Seven
WHITE WIDOW
The next morning, Dean awoke to find Evy already gone from bed. Shuffling his feet through stripes of sunlight, the smell of bacon triggered a growl from his stomach. After brushing his teeth in the new attached bath, he splashed water on his face and debated with his reflection in an oval mirror. It’s not like he cheated, but just the same, there was something unsettling about another woman seeing him naked on his honeymoon. “Shit.” Turning off the faucet, he dried his face and threw on a pair of black shorts and an aqua-colored t-shirt that set off his brown eyes. The smell of coffee and bacon pulled him into the kitchen on a rope.
Noting the pots and pans littering the countertops and stove, he pulled on the Brewers cap he left sitting on his dad’s recliner in the living room. Both French doors were thrown back, letting in the fresh air and drawing him closer. He squinted against the sunshine glinting off the lake. “How long have you been awake?”
Evy twisted around on the patio couch, dressed in a warm hoodie and black leggings. “An hour or so,” she replied, setting down a glass of orange juice. “The sunrise was so amazing; I almost woke you up.”
Coming around a matching loveseat, he scanned the plates of cheesy scrambled eggs, bacon, and chocolate chip muffins with a bowl of strawberries sitting off to the side. Steam rose from two mugs of coffee positioned next to a glass pitcher of orange juice his mother used to make pink lemonade in. “Did you order room service?”
She snagged a piece of bacon. “Surprise.”
“You did all of this?”
“It wasn’t that much,” she told him, nudging a pair of big red sunglasses up higher on her nose. “The muffins are store bought.”
Sitting next to her, he kissed her softly. “This is amazing. Thank you.”
She popped a piece of bacon into his mouth. “How’d you sleep?”
“Okay,” he answered, slipping on a pair of aviators. “You?”
“This fresh air makes me sleep like a rock. I wish I could bottle it up and take it home.”
Barely chewing, he stared vacantly at the backyard, reliving last night in the harsh light of day.
“What’s wrong?”
Hanging his head, Dean exhaled through his nose. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
She leaned forward to see his face. “Was it another bad dream?”
“Yes and no,” he replied, washing the bacon down with some coffee. “I woke up to get some water last night and thought I saw something outside.”
Her frown deepened. “Something like what? A bear?”
“We
ll, I went outside to find out…naked,” he added, cradling the warm mug in both hands while avoiding her stare. “I didn’t see anything so I took a leak in the lake and when I turned around, I heard something in the trees.”
“Oh God, please don’t tell me it was a bear.”
“It wasn’t a bear. Turns out, it was this…dog.”
Evy took a small bite of bacon. “Dog?”
“Yeah, this big black lab. At first, I thought it was a charging black bear and I about had a heart attack. It looked and sounded way bigger than a dog.”
“Where’d it come from?”
Pressing his lips together, he looked off to the left. “Some cabin on the other side of those trees.”
She followed his stare into the woods, bacon hanging in the air. “And?”
“And…this lady in a red robe came out of nowhere to get the dog, and…”
Her eyebrows pulled together. “And?”
“And…I think she saw me naked.”
Jaw coming unhinged, Evy tipped her head down and stared at him over the top of her shades. “She what?”
“It was dark and I didn’t see her at first. I was trying to read the dog’s tags and all of the sudden she was just…there.”
Evy scanned the backyard for signs of this mystery woman. “So…how long did this woman see you naked?”
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