There's a click on the intercom and then the door buzzes, and I yank at the handle, pulling it open before whoever's inside can change their mind. I step inside and take a deep breath, looking up the narrow, steep staircase. It switches back before reaching the second floor, and I start up, my steps echoing off the painted concrete walls. Ten steps, and then a mini-landing, where I turn and go up another ten, and then another five to reach the landing for the second floor. There's a single steel door with a pane of security glass in it. The glass has been painted over though, clearly a leftover from the days of the building being used by the military.
I see another intercom button and hit it, finding out that it's a buzzer as well. There's a click in the door and I try the handle, finding that it opens easily. Inside, the room is dark, and near the far wall, which has a window that looks like it leads to a fire escape and overlooks the river, is a tall, dark figure. “Hello?”
“Enter, Jackson DeLaCoeur. You have come to the right place,” the figure says, and I can tell right away that whoever it is, they're using some sort of voice distorter, there's a clear electronic hum to their voice.
“Who are you?” I ask, stepping in closer. It's so dark I can barely see anything, but there's enough light coming in that I can at least avoid running into anything. “I was given your address by... a friend.”
“Nathan Black is a friend, is he?” the figure asks, circling around to the side. I circle with it, and as we move, the light from the window illuminates the person a little more. They're wearing a floor length robe, or maybe some type of cloak with a hood, the kind that looks like it's definitely straight out of a Halloween getup.They're also wearing a Mardi Gras mask, one of the type that covers your entire face and has painted decorations over the eyes, the type normally worn by women. But, if this person is a woman, she's a very tall woman, with shoulders bringing her up to definitely a man's size. “I didn't think Nathan had many friends.”
“I don't know if he calls me a friend, but it's a convenient word to use,” I reply, not getting rattled. Less than seven hours ago I kicked my father in the stomach and unleashed enough hell to put him in jail for life. Somebody using some parlor tricks and lighting to try and hide themselves isn't going to rattle me, even if it is confusing. “I trusted him enough to come here when he gave me this address, if that's a better definition.”
“Better,” the figure says. “Have a seat. I have some questions.”
I look behind me and see a couch, although it's not much. It's probably been sitting here since this was a military building, and I sit down, carefully avoiding the small coffee table in front of it. I see there's some stuff on the table, but the light's too dim now in the early evening to figure out what it is. “Okay, I'm sitting. What are your questions?”
“First, are you going to use that gun?”
I reach into the waistband of my jeans and take the pistol out and set it on the table. “I don't think I'm going to need that here. I assume Nathan told you I had it?”
“He and I have talked. What brought you here?”
The figure's question stops me, and I think for a moment before answering. “Hope, I guess. Hope that there is a future for me.”
“You're Jackson DeLaCoeur. Even with your father in police custody, you should have plenty of money and the ability to get in with the right society people. What do you mean, hope for a future?”
I laugh harshly and roll my eyes. “Money? I've got sixty-three dollars in my pocket, a cell phone that I might be able to hock for twenty bucks, and that's it. To hell with those society people with their connections. And to hell with any money I could scrounge from Peter DeLaCoeur. It's blood money. I can't spend it anymore.”
“Who could? Hypothetically, who would be clean enough to spend it?”
“Who?” I ask with a laugh, shaking my head. “Well, I can think of two people. Andrea, my half-sister, and she got herself a share before we left that place... and if she were alive, Katrina. She deserved the whole damn pile.”
The figure nods, barely moving. “Tell me about Katrina Grammercy.”
I sit back, shaking my head in disbelief. “Are you nuts?”
“It’s important to your future,” the figure says, the voice emphatic even if it is distorted. “Tell me about Katrina Grammercy.”
“What can I say? She was tall, deadly, smart... and so beautiful. I miss her so much. For six years as children, she was my best friend, and in just over a few weeks as adults, I realized she was the one for me.”
“Do you love her?”
I stop, and nod, looking down. I reach into the pocket of my jeans and take out the two stones that Andrea gave me, and set them on the table. “If I regret anything about the time I spent with Katrina, it's not that she died. It's not that I'm still living, because as long as I do, there's a part of her that won't die. My only regret... my only regrets are that I didn't have a chance to apologize to her for letting money come between us... and I regret not telling her that I love her. I’ll always love her. As we were leaving the plantation, Andrea gave me these two stones, saying that I should give them to someone special someday. I've carried them for the past seven hours in my pocket... and I don't want them anymore. Because the only woman I want to give them to is Katrina.”
“How?”
I look at the figure, who's stepped closer, kneeling down on the other side of the coffee table. “If I could, the diamond would be in her engagement ring... and the sapphire would be in a necklace that I'd give her on our wedding day. The blue is the same shade as her eyes were. So yeah, I guess your answer to your question is, yes. I love Katrina, even if she's gone.”
The figure reaches for the chin of its mask, pushing it up, and my jaw comes unhinged, dropping into my chest.
“I'm not gone,” Katrina says, pushing the mask off and the hood back. “I'm right here, Jackson. And I love you, too.”
Chapter 30
Kat
At first, Jackson stares at me, and I can see the thoughts running through his head. The first thought is that he's gone insane, that he's hallucinating, that somehow, the stress and maybe a bit of dehydration have pushed him over the edge for a little while. Next, he thinks that this is some sort of trick, maybe someone in an elaborate makeup job.
But then the truth comes through, and a complex brew of emotions boils inside him. “K... Katrina?” he stutters, and I nod, unzipping my cloak and pulling it off my shoulders. “But how?”
“After our fight, I had to be sure,” I say, staying right where I am. It feels appropriate to be on my knees, penitent before him. “I had to make sure that I could complete my mission without you warning or trying to save your dad. Nathan helped me fake the shooting, and Andrea faked the text message from Peter.”
Jackson sits back, hurt and angry, and I understand. “You didn't trust me enough to do it?”
“When Nathan and Andrea approached me, no. I loved you, but I knew that you hadn't grown enough at that point. I had to make sure that I could take down Peter. If I didn't, he'd haunt us for the rest of our lives. Hell, I’d be haunted by dedicating so much of my life to it and not succeeding.”
Jackson gets up, trying to control his emotions, and walks around the table, pacing back and forth in front of the window, wringing his hands. “You let Nathan and Andrea know—you obviously had their help in all of this—and you couldn't tell me? Was I just some pawn in your little game? Some puppet to be controlled, like the way Peter controlled other people?”
I lower my head, his words stinging, piercing to my very heart. “Jackson... I'm sorry. To get a monster, I became a monster, and nothing was more monstrous than what I did to you. If it means anything, after Darcy and Andrea talked with me, I did put it all in your hands. That was no lie. You had full control of when to take down Peter. The only thing I did was edit the information released to make sure that it was as tightly focused on Peter as I could make it, to limit the collateral damage.”
Jackson stops and
turns, looking at me carefully. “Why?”
“Because the first thing I thought of after Andrea woke me up was the look I saw on your face when the fake drive-by happened. Because I realized I'd made a mistake and rushed too quickly. I was too concerned about trying to get it done fast so that you and I could move on, and not doing it the right way. But it was too late. I couldn't take it back. I had to sit here, waiting for the whole thing to come to a head. I put you through hell, and all I could do was sit here and hope that you’d follow Nathan's paper. All I could do was hope that... that you're better than me.”
I look down, resting my hands in my lap, ashamed to even look at Jackson any longer. What the hell was I thinking, setting up this elaborate scheme, and all to do what? Test his mental strength? What the hell is wrong with me? What was the purpose of this? I love him, and he loves me. Isn't that supposed to be more important than anything else?
I'm still looking down when I see Jackson's shadow fall over me, and I don't move, closing my eyes instead. I deserve to have him walk out on me and never come back. Instead, I hear Jackson shift around, and I open my eyes to see him kneeling down in front of me and take my hands in his. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he says softly, squeezing my fingers. “You had every logical reason to doubt me, and it was only after the past weeks of living in your loft, living the way you have for ten years, that I really understood in my gut what you've put yourself through. You opened your heart to me, wanting me to show you that there's a future between us, and I took the most precious gift you could have given me, and I was worried about money, of all things. Can you forgive me?”
I nod, looking up into his eyes. “I love you, Jackson.”
Jackson lifts my chin with his fingers and we kiss, his lips a cool balm on the searing pain that's been eating away at my heart since Miami. He cups my cheek, and I wrap my arms around his waist, tears still flowing, but these tears are of happiness and relief, not of sadness.
“I love you, Katrina,” Jackson whispers in my ear. “I want to be with you forever.”
I nod and hug him. “I want that, too.”
He hums and pulls me close. “Then let's get out of here. I have only two things on my mind right now.”
“What's that?” I ask, laying my head on his chest, listening to the heartbeat that I've missed and the heartbeat that I want to build my future around.
“One... I want to get some food. I haven't eaten today, and I'm going to need energy for later.”
“Why?” I ask, giving him a smile, knowing exactly what he wants. It's what I want, and it's the right thing to do.
Jackson notices me smile and returns his own. “I think you know exactly why. Let's just keep it cheap, okay? Like I said, I've only got sixty bucks.”
“No you don't,” I inform him, getting to my feet and helping him up. “Andrea gave you a going away present. Besides the stones.”
“Oh?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “What?”
“A numbered account in the Bahamas. I checked it this afternoon... you've got three hundred and fifteen thousand dollars.”
Jackson considers it, then nods. “Okay then. I guess we can get extra cheese on the pizza.”
Chapter 31
Kat
The bed is actually more comfortable than my old loft bed. It’s a simple queen-size mattress thrown on the floor, and as Jackson lies down next to me, he hums. “So is this what life in the underground is going to be like?”
“Maybe,” I tell him, smiling. “But before we do this... I have to tell you something.”
“What?” he asks, and I take his hand, placing it on my stomach.
“Jackson, I'm pregnant. I took the test yesterday.” I'm a bit nervous saying this, but Jackson takes the news wonderfully, smiling. “You're happy?”
“To create a life with you?” he asks, his smile growing even wider. “Yes, of course! So... I guess I have a question for you, too. I was going to wait, but why wait any longer?”
“Yes and no,” I tell him before he can ask. When he raises an eyebrow, I smirk. “Yes, I'll be your wife. No, I won't marry you. I want to keep living off the grid. We can set up fake IDs with a shared last name if you want, but for me... this right here is our wedding.”
Jackson gets off the bed and goes over to the table, where the sapphire and diamond have been sitting since he took them out of his pocket and showed them to me. “Then can we get these set in gold at least?”
“Platinum,” I counter, watching the lamplight sparkle in each of them. They're beautiful, and I have to remember to send a thank you to Andrea for them. “Goes better with my skin tone. And no ring, pendants only. That way I never have to take them off when I want to do some martial arts practice.”
Jackson laughs and sets the gems aside, letting them clatter lightly onto the small table next to the bed. “I can agree with that. So do you want to make any promises or vows?”
I sit up, and take his hand, placing it on my heart. Jackson takes my hand and places it on his heart, and we look into each other's eyes, his face so serious it's moving. “I promise, Katrina. Forever and always, I will love you and try to be the man you deserve to have.”
I blink and take a deep breath, letting his words soak in a moment before replying, wanting every syllable to be the right ones. “I promise to love you, Jackson, forever and always. And I will always strive to be the best wife and woman I can be for you.”
Jackson smirks, and leans in. “May I kiss the bride?”
“You better do more than that,” I tease, my laugh becoming a moan when Jackson's hand brushes over my nipple. He kisses me tenderly, then with more strength, his arms coming around to pull me tight against him. His kisses move to my neck, nipping and thrilling my skin. “Mmm, that's amazing.”
“Good,” Jackson says with a light growl, “because now that you're mine, I'm going to punish you for making me go through hell for three weeks.”
“Oh?” I ask, thrilled when Jackson pushes me to the side, not too hard, and I look up to see a naughty twinkle in his eye. “Like that, huh?”
Jackson nods and pulls his t-shirt off. He's lost a little bit of mass, but he's more ripped than ever, and I remember that he's spent weeks working himself as hard as I do with his workouts. The bodybuilder puff muscle is gone, and now he's more lean, real muscle. “Turn over, or I turn you over.”
I've never been ordered around by a man like this before, and it's with a little thrill that I get on my hands and knees, my ass up in the air. “Take what’s yours…”
Jackson leans down and kisses the exposed skin on my back in between the waistband of my pants and my top, and trails his tongue all the way up to my neck before whispering in my ear. “Now, undo your pants and let me see you.”
I reach down and undo my belt, a gasp escaping me when Jackson takes my pants in his grip and pulls them down over my hips to my knees. I'm left in just my panties, and Jackson runs his hand over my left ass cheek, stretching out next to me as he does. “I want to look you in the eyes as I do this,” he says, and I turn my face to look at him directly. “Three smacks, for three weeks. Fair?”
“Very fair,” I agree, then purr. “Sir.”
Jackson smirks and leans in. Our lips meet and we kiss, his tongue wrapping around mine. I'm so lost in the kiss that when his hand smacks down, cracking into my ass, the pain is lost in the pleasure and surprise, a warmth spreading from where his hand is rubbing now, massaging and squeezing my ass slowly. “One.”
His hand lifts again, pausing for a moment before smacking down again, just on the edge where the warmth and sting become painful, and again he rubs my ass, this time slipping his hand inside my panties and making me moan in desire. My pussy is throbbing, and I can't believe that it feels this good. “Two.”
Jackson gets behind me and eases my panties down, lifting my legs one at a time to pull my pants all the way off, leaving me naked from the waist down. I tremble in anticipation as the scent of my arousal hits my nos
e, and I know he can smell how turned on I am. “Ready, sir.”
His hand descends again, smacking against my right cheek this time, a firework of heat that shoots straight through me, and I cry out softly. “Oh, Jackson... my husband...”
Jackson hums happily at my words, and I hear his belt release, but before he can do anything, I turn on the bed, grabbing his hands. “No... please, let me.”
He takes his hands away and I unbutton his jeans, not even needing to do the zipper the waist is so baggy. We'd laughed and joked about it as we walked to the pizza parlor, how our fashion sense would be matching more from now on. Now I see another advantage as his cock surges from his boxers, and I wrap my hand around it, licking the head before Jackson can even react. He groans deeply, and I suck him in, running my tongue all around the underside and head of his cock lovingly, worshiping him and trying to show him just how sexy and powerful I know he is.
“Katrina...” he groans, resting his hands on my head. I pause and let him hold my head still as he begins to pump in and out slowly, fucking my face slowly and thoroughly. His cock is thick, sliding deep into my mouth and tickling the back of my throat with each thrust, and I reach under him to cup his balls and roll them between my fingers. “Oh my perfect Katrina.”
He pulls out, and I smile softly. “Is that what you like?”
“Fuck yeah,” Jackson replies, caressing my face. “Is this what you like?”
“This time,” I growl, turning around and wiggling my ass at him. “And this is what I want most.”
“Mmm, I like that idea,” he says, grabbing my hips and pulling me back. “Just a little rough, but not too much?”
“I can take it pretty rough,” I challenge him. “But remember that if you get too rough, I fight back.”
Jackson pushes me down, stretching me out on the mattress, with just my ass sticking up a little bit. I feel his cock against the lips of my pussy and he drives forward, stretching me open in one long stroke until he's all the way inside me. Lightning shoots from his cock to my brain as he pulls back and thrusts again, and I give myself to him, wanting Jackson to take me, to make me his forever.
Secrets & Lies Page 22
