by Naima Simone
“Yes, what happened?” She turned to Mac and Selig, pretending to misunderstand Alise’s question. “I didn’t see your car out there. Was it badly damaged?”
She didn’t miss the hard look Selig and Mac exchanged. Unease edged around the relief.
“What? What are you two not saying?”
Selig sighed and held his hand out toward Mac, asking for the beer. After he’d twisted the cap off and took a deep sip, he relayed the events of the accident. The more he talked, the less Caitlin viewed it as an “accident”. Someone had targeted him and tried to run him off the road.
Nicholas.
She sank to the arm of the couch, a terrible foreboding overshadowing her. It had to be him. This had been a message to her. A warning about the clock that ticked over her head. She closed her eyes and saw Selig’s car careening out of control, plowing through the guardrail and plunging to the rocks below.
Her eyes snapped open, horror filling her throat until she breathed it.
She shot to her feet and three pairs of eyes swung in her direction.
“I need to go,” she stated, amazed at how calm she sounded even as the bitter fingers of fear suffocated her. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
Selig’s eyes narrowed and he made a move toward her. Alarm sang through her and she took a reflexive step backward.
“No,” she blurted, holding a hand out. “I don’t need for you to walk me out. I’ll be back,” she repeated, avoiding looking him, Mac or Alise in the face, afraid of what hers might reveal. Spinning on her heel, she rushed from the room and out the front door. Bounding down the front steps, Caitlin raced to her car, thankful Alise had parked on the side of her car instead of in back. She didn’t have to go back in the house and face the questions and speculation.
She wouldn’t have to lie about where she was headed.
To face the devil.
* * * * *
“We’ll isn’t this a surprise,” Nicholas crooned. He stepped aside, beckoning her inside his office with a wide sweep of his arm. His smug smile mocked her, just as the grand gesture did. As much as she wanted to turn around and leave, she couldn’t.
So she entered the spider’s parlor.
“You know why I’m here.” She turned to face him as soon as she stepped into the office, not trusting Nicholas at her back. Not that she trusted him facing her either.
“Why, sweetheart,” he crooned, stalking closer and edging into her space, “I have no idea what you’re referring to.” He trailed a finger down her arm and lust glittered in his gaze. She swallowed back the bile.
“I’m not here to play games, Nicholas.” Caitlin sidestepped, avoiding his touch. He toyed with her. And from his satisfied, cat-who-ate-the-canary expression, he was enjoying this moment, having her in his lair and at his mercy.
Thing was, she was damn tired of being at the mercy of this man.
“Then why don’t you tell me why you are here, sweet Caitlin.” He cocked his head to the side, slipping his hands in his pants pockets. “I’m,” he paused, a sly smile curving his lips, “dying to find out.”
“Just tell me this,” she asked. “Did you have some one else try to kill him or did you have the balls to get behind the wheel and do it yourself?”
Fury tightened his features and the taunting smile disappeared. “Don’t push me, Caitlin,” he snarled. “And for the record, if I wanted Selig dead, he would be.”
“So you admit it.” Dread curdled in her stomach.
“Now would I be so foolish as to confess to having your precious Selig run off the road?” His good humor returned, his emotions flickering on and off like a switch. “That would be monumentally stupid of me. And a man doesn’t arrive to my position by being stupid.”
“I never mentioned him being run off the road,” Caitlin reminded him.
“You know how bad gossips are in this town. Nothing stays secret for long,” he tsked, shaking his head and assuming an expression of extreme disappointment. Then disappointment transformed into something hard, intimidating. “Especially those secrets about who’s fucking who. Sad, isn’t it, how people assume no one notices their late night activities.”
Realization dawned, stealing her breath.
He knew.
Somehow Nicholas had discovered she and Selig were lovers again. Caitlin forced herself to maintain his gaze when she wanted to turn away and avoid the knowledge in his eyes.
“So that was your warning?” Her cool tone was matter-of-fact when inside she raged against the callous insanity that would allow him to take a man’s life over a six-year grudge.
“Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Nicholas grinned. And then slowly nodded.
Caitlin couldn’t help it. She backed away and stared madness in the face. It terrified her.
“A word of advice. You may want to caution Selig. There are crazy people out there and who knows?” He shrugged. “Next time he may not walk away.”
“Why, Nicholas?” Caitlin inspected his handsome visage and wondered how they all missed the depth of his depravity. “That’s all I want to know. Why? It’s been years. You have a wife who loves you. Why can’t I have happiness? Why can’t I move on?”
Nicholas struck out before she had time to flinch. He hauled her close, his bruising grip around her arm hoisting her to her toes. Mere inches separated their faces, his hot breath burning her lips and chin. “Why?” he repeated, giving her a hard shake. “Because you are mine, Caitlin. Mine. I don’t give a fuck about Rachel. She’s nothing but a poor substitute. If you hadn’t left and escaped me, believe me, you would be warming my bed, not that useless cow.”
“You’re insane,” she whispered, sickened and horrified by his words. Five showers wouldn’t wash the nasty layer of grime coating her skin just from being in his presence.
“I trained you,” he sneered. “I stretched that pussy first and you turned around and gave it to that motherfucker, Selig. I wanted to kill you and I contemplated it. But having you crush Selig worked out much better. And of course if you were dead, how could I fuck you again?”
The kiss was brutal. He smashed his lips against her teeth while his tongue tried to force entrance into her mouth. Shock rendered her immobile for an instant and Nicholas took full advantage of it, swiping her lips with his tongue and prying the seam.
“Get off me!” she shouted the demand, jerking her head to the side as nausea and outrage choked her. His lips slid to her cheek and he took several hard nips at her jaw. The grip on her arms tightened and he yanked her closer to ground his erection in the junction of her thighs.
The feel of his cock thrusting between her legs gave her the desperate strength she needed to wrench herself free. Oh God, she was going to be sick right on the floor. The echo of his violation throbbed on her lips, her jaw and between her legs. Every place he’d touched her. Furious tears pricked her eyes and rage obliterated all caution.
The crack of skin to skin was deafening. Caitlin stared down at her palm, the skin on fire from the contact to his face. Her gaze jumped to Nicholas and she wished she hadn’t.
“Oh you’ll pay for that, Caitlin. Count on it.” Cold menace dripped from every word, his retribution a promise, not a threat. “I’m going to enjoy making you pay.”
Caitlin shivered as she glimpsed the hatred and depraved lust twisting his features. Pushing past him, she hastened for the office door, relief a living entity as she wrapped her fingers around the knob…
“Caitlin.”
Damn it, she cursed. She bowed her head, eyes closing. She paused but didn’t release the door that represented her freedom.
“Five days.”
An ultimatum. Five days before another “accident”.
And this time, Selig wouldn’t walk away.
Chapter Fifteen
“I held dinner for you. When we spoke earlier, you didn’t mention you would be late.”
Nicholas glanced toward the chair flanking his bed, giving hi
s tie a vicious yank. He frowned at the sight of his wife, irritation flaring to life. Gripping the silk noose, he pulled, loosening the material until both ends hung around his neck. His stare never moved from Rachel, not bothering to hide his displeasure. She didn’t enter his private domain unless he specifically invited her. And that summons hadn’t been issued in months.
“What are you doing in here?” Nicholas ignored her words and went about the methodical routine of removing his cufflinks and watch. What he did wasn’t any of her concern and he’d be damned if he started offering up excuses now.
“Waiting for you.” Rachel rose from the chair, the soft rustle of her dress loud in the quiet room. He took in the understated elegance of her black, sleeveless sheath and fashionable heels. The classic twist of hair at the nape of her neck completed the picture of sophistication and wealth. Subtle. Quiet.
Forgettable.
Nicholas turned his back on her, heading toward the walk-in closet to hang up his suit jacket. Entering the large room, he pushed aside one of his many suits to grab a cloth-covered hanger. Flicking a glance over his shoulder, he noticed she’d followed him. He didn’t bother hiding his rising annoyance.
“I don’t remember inviting you in here, Rachel.”
“We had dinner plans tonight, Nicholas. Your parents and the Sheridans.”
Shit, Nicholas snatched his shirttails from his pants, the gesture more forceful than necessary. Michael Sheridan was a partner at the firm and Nicholas needed his vote to obtain partnership at the next board meeting. Careful courting had gone into this dinner invitation. How the hell could he have forgotten?
“Something came up at work,” he snapped, removing his cufflinks and slamming them down on a shelf. Rachel didn’t comment and the accusation in her silence rubbed him raw. He pivoted and leveled a glare on her composed features. As Rachel met his stare, unflinching under its heat, his temper jacked up another notch. “What, Rachel? I’m not in the mood for this. I’m being kind by allowing you to remain in here. So say what you came to say and get out. I’m tired.”
“Nicholas, I’m your wife.”
He snorted, lifting his fingers to his shirt buttons. “So I’ve been reminded.” For the second time in a week. First by Caitlin—the woman who should’ve been his wife and now her, the wife who would always come in second place. “Is there a point to your statement?” He arched an eyebrow, pushing the button through the last hole.
Rachel met his stare, not reacting to his condescending tone or question. “I may not be the woman you wanted, but I am your wife. And since you married me, not anyone else, I am deserving of your respect.”
“Oh really,” he drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. The corner of his mouth kicked up in a smirk, catching the small flinch she tried to control at his movement. Yeah, not as brave as she would have him believe. “Tell me, Rachel, what have you done that deserves my respect? What have you done besides whore yourself for the Gordon last name? I gave you prestige and significance in this town. What did you bring to me? Your winning personality? Your overwhelming sex appeal?”
“I loved you,” she whispered, her eyes closing. She turned her head to the side, but not before he saw her teeth sink into her bottom lip. Tears, he curled his lip in disgust, so weak. He should’ve known Rachel, so spineless and malleable, would resort to that old trick…
“I loved you,” Rachel repeated, regarding him from a clear—and dry—stare. “But in five years you have opened my eyes. You’re not capable of love. Not even for your precious Caitlin.”
Shock invaded his mind and his body. He gaped at his wife, this stranger. Rachel stood before him, chin notched, anger darkening her brown gaze. He advanced a step toward her, hands fisted at his side as rage simmered then burned. Who the fuck did she think she was talking to him like that? No one, no one, got away with that.
“What did you say to me?” The foolish woman didn’t back down from his soft tone or the warning in his steps. Even when his chest bumped hers, she tilted her head back to meet and hold his glare. A grim smile touched his lips. “So the little mouse has grown a backbone. And it only took you what? Five years to do it?” He lifted a hand to her face and trailed the back of his finger down her cheek in a gentle caress that gave lie to the fury building inside him. “To what do I owe this occasion?”
“I’ve watched you, Nicholas,” she murmured, her breath whispering against his finger. “Since we’ve been married I’ve watched and then turned a blind eye to the lies, the affairs, the humiliation. I convinced myself that you used those women, but came home to me. You married me.” She gave a little shake of her head, dislodging his touch. “But this past year I’ve had to stop lying to myself. I don’t mean a damn thing to you. You’re like a spoiled little boy. The women, they entertained you, but it was taking what belonged to someone else that really thrilled you.”
“You don’t know shit,” Nicholas growled, pushing his face down into hers. “Save your psychoanalyzing bullshit. I just like pussy, sweetheart.”
The barb hit. He saw the wound in her eyes, felt it in the hitch of her breath. But she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Until Caitlin Madison.”
“I’m warning you, bitch.” Nicholas’s hand shot out. He gripped her hair, giving it a vicious tug that dragged her head back to an awkward angle. Her eyes squeezed shut and he reveled in the flash of pain that crossed her face. He twisted the strands tighter in his fist. “You ready to shut your mouth?”
“What?” she gasped. “I can’t even say her name? The woman who left you. The woman you can’t have.”
The woman you can’t have. The words drove into his skull like railroad spikes, relentless and sharp. With a hard shove to her shoulder, Nicholas released his wife and watched her stumble and topple to the bed. Her palms fell to the mattress, catching her before she sprawled across the cover.
For a long, silent moment the only sounds in the room were her quick, soft pants and his deeper, harsher breaths. Rachel pushed up from the bed, rising to her feet, the backs of her knees braced against the edge of the mattress. They faced one another, the tension gathering like an impending and dangerous thunderstorm.
“Five years, Nicholas. I’ve put up with the infidelity and whispers behind my back for too many years with nothing to show for it. No children. No husband. No happiness. I’m not doing it anymore. I want a divorce.”
A bark of incredulous laughter burst from him. “A divorce?” He laughed again, amazed at her audacity. “You’ve lost your fucking mind. Where would you go? You know how to do two things. Spend money and earn it on your fucking back.”
“I’m walking out of here tonight.” Rachel shook her head, strands of her dark hair catching to her bottom lip. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want to live in your house. All I want is to end this joke of a marriage and get my life back. Without you.”
“Maybe you didn’t understand me,” Nicholas snarled. A crimson veil of rage fell over his eyes and a dull roar echoed in his ears, deafening him to all but the seductive call of violence seething underneath his skin. His palms itched, his fingers clenched and released against his thighs. “No one walks out on me. No. One.”
He saw the fear in her dark eyes, the desperation, and it fed the fury, the hunger to see more. He wanted her trembling, begging on her knees in front of him for daring to defy him.
“I know all about you, Nicholas,” she blurted and bringing him to a dead halt mid-step. “I know about your clients, how you launder money through the law firm. I know names, dates and transactions. I don’t want to go to the authorities, but I will if you don’t give me what I want. Freedom.”
The roar in his ears soared, rising to an ear-splitting crescendo before crashing and in the next moment, leaving a still, quiet behind. Another woman leaving him. Another woman who thought to have power over him. To control him. Faithless bitches. And they would both learn he held their lives in his hand.
He lifted his hands to his belt.
> “Nicholas,” Rachel whispered, trying to back away from him but forgetting the bed behind her. She tumbled to the mattress, staring up at him from eyes gone wide in alarm. “Nicholas, don’t…”
He didn’t answer her. With steady hands that moved on autopilot, he unbuckled the belt and slid the thin black leather from his pants. Grasping the ends of the belt in each fist, he twisted his wrists until the leather pulled tight in his grasp. He approached the bed, blocking her attempt to scurry around him like the frightened mouse he’d known for years.
Her fingers clawed at his shirt, his face. But a blow to her cheek with one of his fists dazed her, allowing him to encircle her neck with the belt. And tighten.
And tighten.
She’d never walk away from him.
No woman would ever walk away from him again.
Chapter Sixteen
“Five days.”
“Next time he may not walk away.”
Nicholas’ words ricocheted off the walls of her mind until she almost slapped her hands over her ears. But that wouldn’t keep out the threat—no, the promise.
Send Selig away or he would die.
What was the old saying? Those who didn’t learn from history were doomed to repeat it.
She smiled, not feeling any humor, yet the absurdity of it amazed her. She must not have learned a damn thing.
Caitlin folded her arms on the waist-high balcony railing that circled the side of Mac and Alise’s house. Inside, Selig and Mac’s deep timbres intertwined with Alise’s lighter tone. She wanted to go back in and join them, to forget Nicholas and his demands for just a little while. She tipped her head back and stared at the clear, dark sky.
Once more she faced the same difficult choice. She could betray Selig again and lose him forever, but he would also be protected from Nicholas’ evil. Or she could tell him the circumstances surrounding their breakup, the danger he faced even now and endanger his life. The choices sucked as much now as they did back then.
