by Jane Lark
I lifted to my toes and said into the guy’s ear, “If you want to take the risk of not letting us in and have Declan rip your balls off and get you sacked, go ahead take the risk…”
It turned out threatening worked with new guys. He unclipped the rope and let us through. I glanced back at Jason when we climbed the stairs, feeling like I’d gotten away with a great victory. Suddenly I was invincible, made of iron and sparkling with gold, and my mood bubbled up in an effervescent fizz, bursting out into a smile and a weird laugh. I didn’t care if Declan was at the top of the stairs. I was going to win, and I was going to make him feel as small as a flea on the back of a cat when I told him what I thought of him, and his mean nature.
“What?” Jason asked. Jason’s hand settled on my hip as we reached the top of the stairs and turned to face the blue room with its plush blue-velvet furnishings.
I’d had sex in this room, many times. With more than one person. I looked at Jason, refusing the stuff filling my head. “Nothing.” Just memories. Just the images my broken brain sent me, like I wanted to see my embarrassing, shitty history. I didn’t want to have ever been that person and so I told myself I hadn’t been. I was who I was now; with Jason. An angel of vengeance, burning bright, alight with fire.
Thoughts raced around, bouncing off the edges of my skull. Images from the past mainly. Memories that should revolt me, but they didn’t now that my mood was soaring high. I’d been a sick person and Jason didn’t realize how sick. I was different with him.
My gaze leapt about the room, looking everywhere. I couldn’t see Declan. He wasn’t here. Now I wanted more than anything for him to be here. But it was a quiet Monday night, there were no famous people in the bar either, and no one I knew.
Jason found a free table and sat down. I sat next to him.
When he leaned forward to put his drink down, his hand rested on my thigh.
Lust danced up my nerves and clasped in my belly. It hadn’t been a sexual touch. It had been a reassuring touch—but I was high.
I wanted sex.
“So what do we do now that we’re here and he isn’t?” he said.
I knew what I wanted to do, but I didn’t tell him.
He smiled. “Well, I guess we’ll work it out. What did you do when you came here with him?”
I took a breath. If he was going to understand and know enough to gather some dirt on Declan, then I had to be honest. “Had sex and took cocaine.”
Jason’s eyes widened. “Rach…”
There he was, saying a load of words with silence. After the first time he and I had had sex he’d told me I should have more respect for myself. His words had stayed with me—now he said the same again with his eyes. He knew I hadn’t respected myself until I’d met him.
He’d always respected me.
“That was what we did. You asked; I told you. I’m only telling you the truth. You need to know it if we’re gonna find something to trap him.”
He sighed out a breath and lifted his arm. But I didn’t want a cuddle; I wasn’t in the mood for a cuddle. I wanted sex. I put my drink down, then climbed on to his lap, straddling his hips. We’d gotten together in a club and kissed in this position, getting carried away, but he’d balked at the idea of doing it in the club. I wanted to do it in a club.
“Rach.” Jason’s palms settled on my thighs. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you.” I lifted his face and lowered my head until our lips met. He answered my kiss, but it was reserved.
I pressed my tongue into his mouth, and his moved around mine, but not really participating, just responding, as his hands remained on my thighs, unmoving. The need for sex roared in me. I was a lioness on the hunt. If I did it with him here it would wash away every other memory; it would cleanse me. I had a belief, with a blinding clarity, that sex with Jason in this club was the answer to everything.
In my messed-up head it made everything fall into place. All we had to do was do it here and everything would be alright.
I rocked over his crotch, trying to arouse him.
His hold on my thighs firmed and he broke the kiss. “Stop.”
My hands clasped either side of his head and I stared into his eyes. “I want to have sex with you, in here.”
“It’s not even busy, people are watching.”
People had watched when I’d done it with others, Declan had been one of them; that was how I’d met him. And when we’d been together he used to play games like challenging me to see how many people in here would have sex with me in one night.
“Please…” I begged Jason. I wanted to forget. “I want sex. I need it.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jason
Shit, I shouldn’t be letting her try to turn me on here…
But this was what I’d missed about Rach. The edginess. The way she made my heart race, daring me to do the things I’d never done, or even thought about. I loved her, and it was this side of her I’d fallen for, and it was so long since she’d felt free enough to be this person. She’d been up and down today, but she’d been happy for moments, and she was on the steps of happiness now. I didn’t want to take that away from her. I didn’t want to lose it again…
Fuck what I should and shouldn’t do!
She wanted this and I wanted her.
I wanted to be with her in the way we’d been the night we’d first gotten together, and let friendship twist into what had become the best thing I’d ever known.
I wanted life to be at its best again.
“Wheelchair restroom. You go first,” I whispered into her ear.
She rocked back and laughed. It had been months since I’d heard her laugh like that, and maybe it was still a key or two off normal, but it was proper laughter.
With a huge smile, the biggest I’d seen on her face since before the river thing, she climbed off my lap, turned around, and walked away. I watched her and leaned forward to pick up my lager. Rach moved in a way that spoke of sex. Her whole body said sex. I sipped from my glass. Even since having Saint she’d kept the figure of a model, and her blonde, straight hair slipped across her shoulders.
After about two minutes I put down my lager and followed; my blood pulsed and my hard-on formed while I walked. I pushed the door open, went inside, shut it, and locked it.
Rach was leaning against the white sink. She pulled up her skirt.
Lust growled inside me with a surge of reckless desire. I crossed the room, unbuckling my belt as I walked.
It was a toss-up whether this, or having sex in the alley with her—the first time we’d done it—was the craziest thing I’d ever done. But I liked that she made me do crazy stuff, it made our lives exciting. It was the thing that had made me come alive. The adrenalin that made my blood pound through my arteries was all love for Rach.
Within moments I’d pulled her skirt all the way up, disposed of her panties, and was inside her again for the third time today, pumping hard, because this just had to be quick. Her fingers clasped my shoulders through my shirt as she balanced on the sink, then they fell to my biceps as I gripped her ass and took her with a rough thirst. We’d stopped having proper sex after the incident in the summer, she’d been too doped up on her meds, but a week ago I’d pushed her boundaries because I missed exciting, heart-pounding sex, and now within just over a week we were doing this…
Her hand came up and ran over my hair when she came and cried out with a breathy sound of exhilaration, making way too much noise, but the music still pounded outside the door.
Her body called for me to come, massaging me with a tight spasm as the warm fluid of her orgasm flooded around me. I went over the edge into an orgasm that had me weak-kneed and shaking, it was so deep. My forehead dropped on to her shoulder as I breathed, getting control of myself again.
“I love you,” I said into her ear when I lifted my head.
“I love you too.”
I withdrew and tidied myself up while she peed and sorted herself out. Then sh
e flushed the toilet, smiled over her shoulder at me, unlocked the door, and walked out. I locked it again and caught the image of myself in the mirror.
Shit.
Guilt cut through me.
“Shit!” I said it aloud.
I shouldn’t have let her do that. It was her bipolar that had worked her up into a desire for naughty sex, not Rach herself, and now she’d think that’s what I wanted—her to be at the sick level of crazy.
Fuck. I slapped a palm over the reflection of my face in the mirror, then turned to take a piss, to delay going back out there.
I loved her effervescent, addictive, and infectious nature, it was what I wanted, but not at the cost of her sanity, and this wasn’t the Rach I’d met, not really. I’d met the down Rach first and then I’d discovered her rollercoaster, but she hadn’t been ill like she’d been this summer. She was still really sick.
On Halloween she’d talked about wanting to find herself again, and I’d admitted that I’d missed the woman who hadn’t been doped up on medication. Shit. I hoped she hadn’t taken that to heart.
I had my suspicions now. And I didn’t want her to make herself sicker… Or degrade herself because she was ill and lacking judgment. That wasn’t what I wanted. There must be something in the middle. Some drugs she could be on to feel better, that wouldn’t wreck her life.
I loved her highs, but I loved all of her, everything about her. I just wanted her to be well.
When I went out she was at the bar buying another drink for herself. I still had half a lager on the table.
She leaned over, talking to the barman. The move and the pose reminded me of when I’d seen her serving people when she was a waitress. She used to use her body to get better tips, by leaning over too far. The bartender was looking down the front of her top.
I didn’t go over there. If I went over there I might do something stupid. Like drag him over the bar and pound him to death with my fists.
The glass she came back with had orange juice in it. When she put it down I picked it up and sipped it. It had vodka in it too. She wasn’t meant to be drinking with her meds. I put it down but didn’t say anything. She knew that I knew it was there.
She twisted around and leaned forward to speak into my ear so she didn’t have to shout over the music. “The guy said Declan still comes in here.”
I nodded. My brain wasn’t really on Mr. Rees right now; it needed a moment to get back into gear.
“He still does cocaine, but the guy said there’s none available in the club.”
My hand slid into her hair, holding her close as I leaned to her ear. “How do you know?”
“I asked him if I could get any. He said, no, so I told him I knew Declan, and I knew Declan took it here with other people. After that he said, yeah, but he doesn’t get it in here.”
“Did you ever see him buying it? If we could get him on a drug charge that would blow up his case.”
“I know, but I never saw him buy it. He used to buy a lot for parties, though.”
Well, that was our answer then; we needed to work out where he was buying his drugs and get the cops to catch him doing it.
When I woke up the voile curtain was drawn back, so I could see the Brooklyn skyline clearly. The sky was a pale pink. Dawn was breaking but the sun hadn’t risen over the tops of the buildings yet. I was lying on my belly, gripping the pillow, I didn’t move, just looked at Rach, who was also gilded by the dawn.
She was standing at the edge of the window, watching the sun rise, her arms folded over her chest.
She appeared wide awake, as if she’d been standing there for hours.
I rolled to my side. “Rach. How long have you been up?”
She glanced sideways at me and smiled. “Ages. Most of the night.”
I was certain now. The suspicion I’d had last night was right. I was sure of it. “Do you want to go for a run?”
She nodded.
It would help distract her mind.
When she went into the bathroom I wanted to call Mom, but it was too early, it would have to wait until we came back.
We ran down to Prospect Park again, our heavy breaths misting in the cold morning air. It was quiet because it was early and a different atmosphere hung in the air. When I’d lived in New York I’d run in the evenings, it was rare that I’d gone for an early run, but I wished I’d done it more often. I preferred the quieter streets.
When we got back to the hotel, Rach went into the bathroom for a shower, throwing a look at me that offered sex. My heart pumped harder. “I’ll be in there in a minute.”
I picked up my cell from the nightstand and looked up my contacts, waited until the toilet flushed and the shower turned on, then I pressed the call icon and walked over to the window away from the bathroom.
“Hello, Jason. How are you, honey?”
“Mom, would you do me a favor, but you need to be quick?”
“What, sweetheart?”
“Go and look in mine and Rach’s room.”
“Okay, did you forget something?”
I could hear her walking. “I think Rachel didn’t bring her meds, but she hasn’t said. Would you just see if they’re in one of the drawers by the bed?” The door creaked.
“Okay. Wait a minute.”
She was quiet for a moment, then she said, “They’re here.”
Fuck. “Okay, thanks for looking.”
“Do you want me to mail them to you?”
“I don’t know. Yeah. I guess. But we’re seeing a specialist here next week.”
“I’ll send them so they’ll reach you tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I better go, Rach is in the shower. How’s Saint?”
“Sleeping, with a full belly.”
“Thanks for everything you’re doing, Mom.”
“You’re welcome.”
I ended the call, probably a bit too quickly because I was worried about Rach wondering where I was. I left my cell on the nightstand and stripped off. My hands shook as guilt took a knife to my chest over last night at the club.
I was walking a high wire with Rachel and I didn’t know how to stay on it. What was a right step and what was a wrong one? How did I stay on the wire with her? I was afraid I’d fall off, and there was too much weight trying to push me off.
When I got into the shower, she turned to me. Her wet hair was stuck to her scalp, her shoulders, and her breasts, as the water poured over her. Her fingers came up to the back of my head and pulled me down for a kiss.
When I made love to her up against the tiles, it was not with lust or with excitement because she was being naughty and challenging me, or because she was playing games with me burning out her mood—high or low—but because I loved her. I was just making love to her.
I watched her when she dressed afterward. Wondering whether to say anything, but I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t speak.
I wanted to protect her, but what could I do to help her if she didn’t want to help herself?
When we were clothed she looked at me. “Where do you wanna go?”
“To get something to eat, I’m starving.”
“Then we can go over to Declan’s apartment and I can see if he’s there. I’ll ask the security guards for some clues if he isn’t.”
“If you want to.” I’d come here to fight. But all I could think about when she mentioned Mr. Rees and talking to the security guys was that barman last night. I didn’t want fighting to mean her using her body to get attention.
I knew who she’d been before, what she’d done. I didn’t care about it. She’d never been like that since she’d been with me, and I didn’t want her to ever have to be like that again.
I stuck close to her as she asked after Mr. Rees in the condos’ reception area, and when they said he wasn’t in, I stayed even closer when she spoke to the security guys. We didn’t get any clues from them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Rachel
Jason’s friends lived in a line of cu
te, three-story, homey-looking buildings that were surrounded by white-painted cast-iron railings. Each floor was a condo, and on the second floor was a white-railed balcony. Jason’s friends were in a ground-floor condo.
It was the woman, Portia, who opened the door. “Hello. I hope you’re expecting to eat, we made dinner.”
We hadn’t been. My plan with Jason had been to get in and out quickly and eat after, but it looked like that plan wasn’t gonna work out. Not having eaten was gonna be our excuse to leave early.
“Come on in. This way.” She turned around and led us into a sunny hall, then opened a door on the right-hand side and walked into a living room that was equally sunny.
“This is a nice place,” I said, as I saw through the glass doors at the back. They had a small backyard out there.
“The place I was in before was up in an attic, so it’s a contrast, but we like it here, especially because we have the garden.”
I could understand why Declan had employed her as his assistant. It would look good on him to have her preppy, British voice answering his phone and calling his business contacts.
“Jason.” Jason’s black friend walked out of another door into the room; I guess he’d come out of their kitchen. I peered around the door jamb; it looked like he’d been laying out the table that was in there. This wasn’t a big place, but it was about triple the size of the apartment Jason had been in when I’d met him, and it was theirs. We hadn’t gotten our own place. We’d been planning it, but since I’d walked into the river, Jason had stopped mentioning it and he was the only one working now, so I couldn’t raise a deposit or feel like I could suggest the idea. It would be telling him how to spend his money.
I looked at Jason’s friend and held out my hand. “Hi. It’s nice to see you.” I couldn’t remember his name. That was the only reason I said it.
“Yeah, thanks for asking us over, Justin.” Jason looked from the guy to his girlfriend. “Portia.”
“Justin.” Now that I knew his name I offered my hand again. “Hi.” The first time looked less odd now.
