Demons from his past couldn’t be any worse than the ones he’d already faced tonight. He’d grown up with a crazy mother who saw spirits in every corner. She always told him he had the gift, something he vehemently denied. Why would he be proud of a gift that destroyed his mother?
No. Nothing could be worse than what he’d already experienced.
CHAPTER FOUR
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Joanne’s parched mouth ached as the water echoed against the metal it hit over in the corner. Her tongue swelled with each drip until the dryness of her mouth became unbearable. Afraid to make a sound she lay on the cement floor, quivering with cold and dread.
She was caught in a nightmare. One of her own making.
She’d known for years that this day could come. Would come. But as the years passed, the threat of discovery, of remembrance disappeared.
She thought she’d been safe. She’d never been more wrong in her life.
Footsteps skulked closer. She counted the seconds it took for each thud on the floor. One foot lagged behind at a slower rate. She tried to figure out who her captor was but she couldn’t recall anyone with a limp leg.
Joanne trembled as the air filled with the stench of the monster. Something inside of her warned her to get ready. She relaxed her body a second before flying through the air and being thrust violently against the wall. She couldn’t breathe. Curled into a ball, her body ached as waves of pain tore through her. She couldn’t contain the cries as she was kicked over and over. Joanne begged for the horrific beating to stop but with her every mournful cry the feral attacks increased.
She was going to die.
“You’re not going to die. I have plans for you. I’ve always had plans for you.” Cold hands gripped her face.
Joanne recognized that voice and knew.
He’d come back for her.
Every bone felt broken, every muscle torn, trickles of blood welled up through open cuts, pinpricks of pain danced along her skin. She prayed for darkness to overtake her, to consume her and end her misery.
“Not only for you, Joanne, dear.” Tremors flowed through her body as the voice hissed her name. Once upon a time the demon had whispered her name, like a silk caress against her skin. Once upon a time when he’d been an angel in disguise.
The crackle of laughter filled the air. She’d forgotten he could read her thoughts.
“I’ve never been in disguise. You’ve always seen me as I am. As I should be. As I will be once again - thanks to you.”
Joanne shook her head and ignored the pain. It wasn’t possible. How could he know?
“You thought you could hide our son away from me? There is no place you can run that I can’t follow. You thought your prayers to God would save you, didn’t you?” The hatred and arrogance in the voice of the one she once used to love shook her to the core.
“You’re mine, Joanne. The moment you pledged yourself to me I stole your soul.”
Darkness stole over her as she struggled to understand what he was saying to her. How could he steal her soul? How did he find out about her secret?
“Nathan,” she whispered before she gave in to the bliss of darkness that surrounded her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Going home to an empty house really didn’t hold much appeal.
As Nathan made a right turn on Grace Street, his headlights barely made a dent against the darkened road. It was as if a black shroud enveloped the street. He cranked his neck to look up at the old fashioned street lamps that normally illuminated the dozen or so aged Victorian houses.
They were all burned out.
Even his porch light was dark. Nathan glanced at the clock on his console. The timer wouldn’t have gone off yet. He kept his porch light on till midnight.
He pulled into his driveway and killed the ignition. His neglected home didn’t hold the warm feelings it once did. There was no laughter, no light in this building. What once was a home was now a house and Nathan hated it.
He blamed God.
Nathan dragged his weary body out of the truck.
“It’s about time you dragged your sorry ass home.”
Nathan’s blood stirred at the sound of the husky yet very sexy voice. He straightened before searching for the voice. The sharp squeak of the porch swing had him twisting his head before he caught sight of the one woman who tempted him to sin with every thought.
“How long have you been waiting?” He crossed the yard and bounded up the stairs. Suddenly he didn’t feel as tired. The sight of her took his breath away every time. He’d never met another woman like her.
“All my life darlin,” Eva winked as she scooted down the seat leaving room for Nathan to join her. She wore her signature black leather jacket with a red scarf wrapped around her slender neck. Her black hair was pulled up into a ponytail and swung to the gentle rocking of the swing.
“You say that every time,” Nathan struggled not to jump when his leg hit hers. He casually readjusted himself so that only an inch separated them on the swing.
This woman made him blood boil in more ways than one. She was the bane of his existence yet he needed her like he needed air to breathe, and it bothered him. Not even Sue had affected him this way.
“Maybe one day you’ll realize I’m telling you the truth,” Eva whispered before she bent down, reached between her legs and pulled out a brown paper bag. “Here, I got this for you.” She held it out.
Nathan shook his head. “I don’t drink. You know that.”
Shoving the bag into his hands, Eva swore. “It’s not alcohol you jerk.” She pushed herself to her feet and stormed off his porch.
The sudden burst of anger surprised him. Going after her would do no good, so Nathan held the bag in his hands and just watched her leave. The tight jeans she wore hid little, and he’d be a liar to say he minded. She jumped onto her motorcycle, pulled her helmet over her head and drove away, the squeal of the tires loud in the night air. He glanced at his watch. She’d be back.
She always came back.
Nathan sighed, sank back against the wood supporting his back and glanced at the bag in his hands. Some days he didn’t understand that woman. She’d shown up in town a little over a year ago, standing out in her black leather pants, jacket and boots. The first time he’d seen her was at the cemetery. The second was when he stood at the edge of the cliff far from town and looked down at the crystal clear waters of Redemption Lake wondering why he shouldn’t jump.
If it hadn’t been for the sound of her motorcycle down a forgotten dirt road, he would have.
Ever since then she’d always been there for him. At his darkest moments. When he felt most alone. Or troubled.
Nathan rubbed his hand over his face. He wanted a do-over. He deserved a do-over after the day he’d had.
Happy birthday to me. Not even Kate had remembered.
He slowly pushed his body off the swing and straightened. The brown bag slipped from his grasp and landed with a thud on the deck. He bent down to pick it up, but the bag ripped in his hands. A brown leather book slid out.
Kneeling, Nathan picked up the book and gently stroked the material. Soft. Like butter beneath his fingers. He opened the book and found blank pages inside.
A journal.
She bought him a journal.
A sharp pain sliced through his heart before he stood and walked down the porch steps.
Out of everyone in his life, why did it have to be her that remembered his birthday? Why was it her that bought him a journal - a gift that not many would understand the significance?
His footsteps heavy, Nathan headed towards his side kitchen door. No one used the front door anymore. His foot nudged something he couldn’t make out in the darkness. Why wasn’t the outside light turned on? He had it set to a timer.
Shadows lengthened across his driveway as he made his way to the door. The full moon illuminated the pathway for him, which was odd since the outdoor light should have been on.
Actually, the lights in the house should have been on as well. Yet the interior of his home remained dark.
Nathan laid his fingers on the door knob, gripped but before he could twist, it pushed open on its own. Cold fingers of dread tiptoed up his spine. The door should have been locked.
*****
Inside, Nathan hesitated.
A heavy curtain of silence filled the house. He hated dark houses. Hated dark corners. Hated anything dark. A light was always kept on. Always.
He flipped the light switch on and off, hoping for a miracle. The deafening stillness stretched until icy cold fingers settled around his neck to choke him. Mentally shaking himself, Nathan tossed the journal in his hand onto the counter beside him and stiffened his back. Time to man up.
First he needed music. And light. The first thing he’d done after his wife, Sue, died was to hardwire the house with speakers in every room. Too many ghosts haunted him in the stillness, too many memories of a happier life taunted Saloon him.
He headed towards the pantry and fumbled around in the shelves until he found his flashlight. He grabbed his battery radio, matches and his box of emergency candles. He set the radio on the kitchen table and turned the volume up loud enough to drown out his thoughts and shone the beam of light into corners.
A bright flash caught his attention.
He inched his way towards his kitchen table, the light illuminating his path. His eyes were playing tricks on him. They had to be. Why else would a birthday cake with one candle be sitting in the middle of his table. A half folded card sat next to the cake. He stuck the flashlight in the crook of his arm and reached for the card.
Happy Birthday Nathan. May you find a sliver of happiness on this day meant to be celebrated. I promised no gifts, but everyone deserves a cake on their birthday. Love Rachel.
A vanilla coconut cake. He struggled not to smile, but it was hard. That would explain the opened door. She must have forgotten to close it properly. Maybe the lights had been out when she came and she thought she’d be helpful by leaving the door partially opened for him.
There was something about Rachel that tugged on his heart. She was delicate. Sensitive. Someone to be protected. His heart was too coarse. Too ugly. Blackening daily from guilt and anger. Yet, she pulled at him, creating a desire to be more that what he’d become.
She reminded him of Sue.
Nathan’s shoulders sagged at the thought. Eva thought he was using Rachel as a replacement for his dead wife.
If only she knew.
Ignoring the cake, he made his way down the hallway, his feet scuffing along the hardwood floor. He set the flashlight down on the floor by his study, casting the shadow of his silhouette against the wall. His bedroom door was at the end of the hallway, where the light didn’t reach.
To the right, his office door stood open. The moonlight shone through the open window, the curtain billowing as the night breeze whispered through the screen. His old worn couch beckoned. Maybe the midnight breeze would ward off any nightmares tonight.
He pulled the hand-knitted afghan across his body and with his arm tucked behind his head he surrendered to the weariness deep in his bones. A lonely keen from a mountain lion echoed through the night sky. Its eerie song drifted through the valley.
The heavy fog of Nathan’s nightmare drew closer, the distant sound of a baby’s cry echoed through his mind. A tear escaped through his lashes and slid silently down his cheek as he welcomed the sound, embracing it, knowing it would never draw closer.
CHAPTER SIX
Kate stood at her front counter and evaluated the windows of her diner. They were covered in streaks her nephew missed. She grabbed old flyers and her spray bottle. Good help was hard to come by.
Breakfast aromas drifted out of the kitchen where her husband Jack slaved away at the stoves. Homemade grits, bacon and eggs, toast and a strong coffee were the morning staples at the cafe. In Redemption, most folks tended to congregate at the diner in the early morning before they headed to work.
This morning turned out to be quiet. Too quiet. Grumpy old Wilbert sat in his usual spot complaining about the coffee. She never made it strong enough for him.
The conversation she’d had with Nathan last night replayed in her head. That boy was in a heap of trouble and there was nothing she could do about it.
But she knew who could.
A tired smile crept over Kate’s face as Rachel Gibbons entered the diner, a swinging basket at her side. She was a breath of fresh air for Kate’s weary soul.
“Jack, your favorite non-daughter is here! Make up some batter, will ya? Better make a double batch if you can,” Kate called into the back.
“Come make it yourself, woman! Can’t you see I’m busy?” His voice boomed.
Kate looked around the swinging door into the kitchen. “The only thing I see, old man, is you working on the crossword puzzle instead of making breakfast like you should!”
Kate turned in time to catch Rachel placing her hand on Wilbert’s left shoulder. When she leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek, Kate smiled. That girl’s heart was as big as an ocean. Wilbert ducked his head, but Kate knew there was a grin on his face. You couldn’t help it around Rachel. Orphaned at a young age and raised by the local pastor, she was a woman who refused to let life interfere with her passions.
“Good morning,” Rachel said before leaning down and placing a light, feathered kiss on Kate’s cheek. She set the basket down on the counter and began to unfold the towels that covered whatever delicious treats she hid inside.
Kate’s mouth watered. Rachel had recently rented out the little kitchen in the bakery next door. Jack considered Rachel a second daughter and refused to charge her whenever she came in for meals, so in exchange, Rachel would bake mouth-watering scones, muffins and cookies for them to sell.
“Good morning, sweetheart. Jack is making some waffles and I picked some strawberries from the field just for you,” Kate said as she brought out the glass holders she kept just for Rachel’s baking.
Rachel’s smile lit up the room. “Hmm, fresh strawberries. Mind if I swing by later today and pick some more? I have a recipe for strawberry scones I’d love to try.”
The little bell above the door jingled as Kate wiped her hands on her apron. “Jack, Doug’s here.” Kate poked her head into the kitchen and eyed the pen that rolled off the crease in the crossword puzzle book.
“His order is ready.” Jack motioned with his head to the side counter by the door as he poured batter into the waffle iron.
She blew him a kiss before grabbing the brown bag.
“If you happen to see Basil this morning, would you mind making sure he’s all right? He was acting a bit strange last night,” Kate walked down to the cash register and waited for Doug to join her.
“Strange? Bay?” Doug frowned as he pulled out his wallet.
“He was in here drinking coffee till closing.”
“Basil?” Doug repeated.
Kate nodded. “Just make sure he’s not getting sick. Tell him I’ll have soup ready for him if he’s in the mood.”
She kept her eye on Doug as he left her diner. He never headed in the same direction when he left, yet she always assumed he went to meet Bay. Wherever the old man could be found.
She poured coffee into two white mugs and handed one to Rachel, who walked towards the middle booth by the window.
“I wonder how Nathan’s birthday went yesterday?” A sad smile crept onto Rachel’s face as she cradled the mug in her hands.
“It took everything in me not to wish him a happy birthday,” Kate sighed. “Nothing’s gone right for that boy in a long time.”
Rachel raised the cup to her lips. “I made him a cake.” She gently blew the steam away before taking a sip.
Kate glanced up in surprise. “When I did that last year he wouldn’t speak to me for over a week. Are you sure that was wise?” The longer Nathan nursed his anger and hatred the worse he became.
Tears
welled up in Rachel’s eyes. “I miss the man he used to be. I want to help him get back there.”
Kate reached across and rubbed Rachel’s cold hands. “Oh honey. While I’m the first to believe in miracles, even that might be too much to pray for. Losing Sue and his baby the way he did, on his birthday…I’m not sure he can come back from that.”
Kate read the determination in Rachel’s gaze. The girl had the heart of an angel but Nathan—his wings had tarnished a long time ago.
“He can, Kate. Don’t give up on him. Please?”
Shaking her head, Kate sipped her coffee while glancing around the cafe. Sure would be nice if it were busier. She could use a distraction. Even the main street was a virtual graveyard. Other than Eva sitting in the park across the street. What was that girl doing all alone in the park?
“What are you looking at?” Rachel asked.
Kate tore her gaze away from the empty streets. No sense in mentioning Eva, not now. Kate wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or something deeper, but Kate always froze when Eva was around. “There’s something in the air…It’s like a heavy shroud covered the town overnight. I didn’t think there was a storm coming.”
Rachel leaned back and set her mug on the table. “There’s this old saying my father used to say. Every generation, evil takes form and steals the soul of the most devout. Do you think it’s true?”
Kate sighed. “There tends to be a kernel of truth in every tale you hear about our past. My grandma used to tell us kids stories about the evil one. How you could hear his lonely cry in the wind.” She shrugged. “You tell me. Haven’t you seen enough evil in your life?”
Emotions filtered across Rachel’s face before she blurted out, “I’m scared that it’s true.”
Kate reached across the table for Rachel’s hand and squeezed. “There’s a scripture verse I try to remember when I get afraid. We are not ruled by a spirit of fear but of love, power and a sound mind.”
Sexy As Sin Page 2
