by J. E. Taylor
He saw the plea in her eyes and almost heard the words Call Him! from under the binds holding her voice in her throat. Tears slid down the side of her cheeks and she arched, her muffled scream of pain snapping his eyes from hers and turning them to the mirror.
There in full view, the son of a bitch was hurting her again, but this time he knew how to stop it.
Tom screamed, summoning her guardian angel, a name he never thought he would ever rely on for help.
Chapter 20
Chris sat up in bed, blinking at the dark hotel room. He glanced around and his gaze landed on the clock. A little after midnight and a very bad feeling scratched at the pit of his stomach. Distant laughter floated on the air and he stretched back in the bed annoyed at the interruption.
He closed his eyes again and that bad feeling bloomed into nightmare quality terror. Jessica’s fear bowed him over, knocking the breath from his chest and before he could throw the covers off, Tom’s voice barreled his name.
He skidded into the bathroom but all he saw was his own face looking back at him.
“Shit!”
Closing his eyes, he grabbed onto her fright and rode the psychic connection right to her. When he opened his eyes, the mirror rippled, the image of her bedroom coming into sharp focus. The look on Tom’s face told him enough, he didn’t need to hear what Tom kept repeating to understand.
“Break it, please break it,” Tom repeated. “Please break it.”
A snarl rose in his throat and he uttered the command, “Shatter.”
The mirror in the hotel room flew to pieces, crystal shards tinkled on the tile all around him and he prayed the same thing happened to their bedroom mirror. He spun and ran out of the bathroom, ignoring the tiny jabs of glass skewering the soles of his feet. Hopping into his jeans and sneakers, he grabbed the room key and a shirt and bolted to his car.
Minutes later, he pulled into her driveway and yanked the emergency brake. At the door, he repeatedly jammed the doorbell, shifting his weight from foot to foot debating on knocking the door down again when Tom swung it open.
“Is she okay?”
Tom just stared at him, grinding his teeth together.
“Is she ok?” He stepped in the house.
Tom put his hand on Chris’s chest, stopping him from going any further. “You brought that son of a bitch with you,” he said, his chest rising and falling with the rage rattling inside him.
“Is she okay?” Chris exploded and pushed Tom away stepping further into the hallway.
“Yes,” Jessica answered from the entryway. She hugged the bathrobe wrapped tightly around her.
Tom’s fist slammed into his jaw and he lost his balance, landing on his ass in the hallway and before he could get to his feet, Tom had a fistful of his shirt, yanking him off the ground and throwing him toward the living room with a growl that reminded Chris of his uncle’s attack dogs.
He rolled and scrambled off the floor. Tom threw another punch and he parried, blocking the next several swings but he didn’t fight back and he didn’t say a word, he just fended off the blows and let Tom get the rage out of his system.
Eventually, Tom sat down on the couch and put his face in his hands. “Son of a bitch raped my wife and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it,” he said through his fingers.
Chris exhaled and took a seat on the couch next to Tom. “I’m sorry.”
Tom turned his bloodshot glare in his direction. “I don’t want to hear your fucking apologies, just figure out a way to get rid of him.”
“I’m working on it.” Chris swung his gaze to Jessica. Are you really okay?
She nodded. “Thanks for stopping him again.”
“Don’t thank me,” Chris answered. “Frank knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away forever. He just waited. Watched and waited until I was stupid enough to...” Chris began and clenched his teeth against the rest of the sentence.
Jessica’s chin trembled and the tears welled, rolling over the edge in slow motion. “If you hadn’t come, I would have lost Emily.”
Chris stood and started across the room. He stopped halfway realizing it wasn’t his place to comfort her, to wipe away her tears. His heart ached.
Tom passed by him and wrapped his arms around his wife, turning and displaying a warning glare he was accustomed to. He had seen it enough times in his stepbrother’s prison to understand he was not welcomed.
Turning, he walked out of the house, leaving his heart in her hands. He paused at the side of his car, debating with the darkness that threatened to over take him, the desire to grab her and run, to hold her, to love her, to own her like he once had, but he kept it at bay, fighting against his true nature.
Chapter 21
Jessica grabbed the Grey Goose and a bottle of cranberry juice from the refrigerator and plucked a glass from the cabinet and crossed to the porch. Her hands shook as she poured herself a mix of half vodka and half cranberry juice and downed it. She poured a second glass and walked over to the banister leaning on it, looking at the image of the full moon dancing on the waves.
Tom wrapped his arms around her. “I cleaned up the glass.” He paused and kissed her cheek. “You okay?”
Jessica nodded. “Do you mind grabbing me a pair of jeans? It’s a little chilly out here.”
“Sure,” he said and headed back in the house. He came back a few minutes later with her jeans and she slid them on under the bathrobe.
Jessica finished the second drink and went to pour herself a third one.
“You might want to slow down.”
Jessica shook her head. “Not tonight.” She stirred the drink with her finger.
“Jess,” Tom sighed and she swiveled her gaze to him.
“Go to bed, Tom.”
“Come with me.”
Jessica shook her head again and looked away.
He stepped toward her.
“Not right now,” she said without casting her eyes in his direction. “I want to be alone for a while.”
He reached out to touch her face.
She caught his hand before his fingers reached their goal. “Not now Tom.” Her eyes flashed a warning. “Please,” she added softly.
“I love you, Jess.”
“I know but I need some space right now. I promise I’ll come inside in a little while.”
He bit the side of his lip, tilting his head, his eyes carrying concern.
“I love you, Tom, I just need a few minutes alone after what happened. Okay?”
Nodding, he turned, leaving her on the balcony and headed to bed.
Jessica finished the third glass and poured herself another, the effects of the alcohol starting to override her system. She polished off the fourth glass reaching the numbness she craved and downed the remaining vodka straight from the bottle.
Her throat burned and the heat spread all the way to her toes. She stumbled through the house grabbing her iPod before walking out the front door.
Jessica weaved her way to the beach, barefooted and still wearing her bathrobe over the jeans. She stumbled, catching herself before she tumbled on the cool sand. Stopping, she flipped through the songs until she landed on the one she wanted. “Calling All Angels” blared, assaulting her ears and making her wince until she turned the volume down. Jessica danced down the beach, singing along with the music.
* * * *
Chris didn’t want to lie in the hotel room staring at the ceiling and harping on his situation so he parked the car and crossed to the beach, finding a nice flat rock to stretch out on. The breeze was cool enough to keep him clear, but not enough to be uncomfortable and he studied the star filled sky, amazed at the clarity and vastness of the constellations.
I certainly don’t get this kind of view in New York City.
He sighed and closed his eyes. As always, Jessica’s graceful form danced across his eyelids, her voice traveling over the years as clear and sweet as the day she danced in his concrete prison.
A sharp note
shattered the memory and he opened his eyes, sitting up and scanning the darkness. The song continued, not from memory, but drifting on the wind from the direction of her house and he hopped off the rock.
His gaze locked on the weaving form and another off-key note marred her sweet voice. She stumbled, catching herself and laughing before resuming what she thought was dancing, but he only saw the flailing of a drunken woman. Even so, there was a grace to it and he smiled. Even inebriated, she still stirred the need in him and he moved toward her.
She spread her arms wide spinning in a circle and then lost her footing, but he was there, catching her before she fell over on the wet sand. With his arms wrapped around her waist, her voice trailed off and they stared at each other. His heart knocked on the walls of his chest and burning desire overloaded his senses to the point that when she ran her hand into his hair pulling him to her lips, he gave in, the passion transitioning into an exquisite tongue dance that left him breathless.
With a groan, he pushed her away and took a step back, his chest burning with unfulfilled need. “You’re drunk.”
“Ayup.” She stepped closer.
“Jessie,” he warned, his resolve waning and the rock wall behind him blocked any further retreat.
“Don’t you want me anymore?” Her wide calico eyes filled with tears and the sash on her bathrobe inadvertently unlaced falling open and revealing her bare chest. She took another step toward him.
He laughed. “God knows how much I want you, babe, but this isn’t what you want.”
“I need you, Ty.” She slid her hands up his chest and he closed his eyes. “I need you to erase what he did to me, to make it go away.”
Her lips pressed through the shirt creating a heat that spread through him like liquid fire. “Jessie,” he whispered and tilted her chin, finding her lips and pulling her against him, his hand caressed her bare breast, lingering on the nipple that hardened under his touch.
Jessica fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, finally tearing it open, her hands grazing his bare skin, her touch igniting him and he was helpless to stop her exploration of his body. The cool spring air did nothing to quench the heat between them and she broke the kiss trailing her lips along the line of his neck.
A low rumble formed in his throat and she ran her tongue down his chest, her hands already sliding over the fabric of his jeans, accelerating the throbbing in his cock. The button of his jeans didn’t present the same problem as those of his shirt and she had them unclasped, unzipped and his hard member in her hands before her lips reached his belly button.
Hot and moist, her mouth slid over the tip of his cock, lingering, teasing, sucking and he leaned against the rock, lacing his hand in her hair and guiding her movement, lost in the heaven of her mouth. Blood pumped through his veins, pounding in concert with his heart, building with each stroke of her lips and each flick of her tongue. His hand tightened in her hair and he groaned, coming in her mouth, the explosion of semen rocking him to the core and she swallowed every bit of him, sucking until his aftershocks subsided.
She sat back on her heels and smiled up at him, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.
Sinking to his knees in front of her, he ran his fingers across her cheekbone. “Jesus, Jessie.” The hammering in his chest continued and he scanned her half-naked form.
“Make love to me, Ty.”
He hesitated, searching her eyes, searching for any seeds of doubt, for a reason to deny her what she asked, for a way to avoid this landmine but there was no way out from under her spell.
In a rush of fabric, their jeans were shed and he was on top of her, inside her, moving in concert with her like lifetime lovers, her soft moans rolling down the beach with the fog. He moved slowly, running his hand through her tangled hair as it fanned out on the sand beneath her, savoring each and every sensation.
The colors in her irises swirled, reminding him of an approaching storm, equaling the torrent of emotions welling inside him and his lips found hers. The tongue dance began, mimicking his slow, lazy rhythm, building with the passion and cresting to frantic whirls, flicking, teasing, tasting as they climaxed together, their mouths muffling each other’s cries.
He collapsed on her, his body trembling and satiated.
When his heart settled into a regular pattern, he lifted his head, glanced into her inebriated eyes and wondered if she’d remember any of this. With a sigh, he rolled and retrieved his pants, sliding them on and helping her with her jeans.
“What am I going to do with you?”
Her face beamed with a drunken smile and he helped her up, doing his best to brush the sand off her back while she giggled and swayed. Now what do I do? Indecision froze him in place and he glanced between his hotel and the bluff where she lived, biting his lower lip, debating.
She slumped in his grasp and his eyes fell on her slack face.
“You are going to be one hurting puppy in the morning,” he said and chuckled, shifting her dead weight in his arms. “How pissed would you be if you woke up in my hotel room?” He knew the answer and that clinched the decision.
Chris hauled her over his shoulder and headed up the beach toward the bluff, carrying her home. Sneaking soundlessly around the back of the house, he navigated the steps of the deck, setting her in the lounge chair. He leaned against the railing catching his breath, his eyes drifting to the table and the empty bottle of vodka then back to her. With a great draw of air, he stepped closer, placing a kiss on her forehead before slipping away.
He took his time walking back to the hotel by way of the beach, still feeling her body beneath him and her mouth on his lips. Metal shimmered on the sand near where they had been and he bent over, picking up the discarded iPod, sliding the speaker bud in his ear and smiling at the familiar song looping over and over.
Slipping it in his pocket, he headed back to the hotel. Tomorrow was a big day; he had papers to sign and then he’d think about what the future might hold.
Chapter 22
Betty stood as he entered the realty office. She wore a nice white suit with an extra low cut shirt just for his benefit. She fawned over him, even commenting on his cast and how awful that must be. Chris ignored her and read the contract the seller’s lawyer handed him. He picked up the pen and signed the paperwork.
“Maybe you’d like some company to celebrate?” Betty batted her eyes and offered him a bottle of champagne.
“I’m all set,” he said, taking the bottle from her and watching her deflate before his eyes.
He held out his left hand to thank her and she shook it, flustered by his indifference.
Chris headed to his new home pulling up to the gate and rifling through the paperwork until he found the instructions. The gate opened with the old code and he reprogrammed a new password before continuing to the house, pulling the Corvette into the oversized three-car garage.
Wandering around the yard, he grinned, stopping to scope out the lighthouse at the far bluff across the expanse of ocean. He calculated the distance, close to a five or six mile shot from where he stood to the lighthouse and Jessica’s house was less than a half mile from there.
He turned and entered the house, tossing the keys into the air and catching them as he roamed from room to room. He dropped the pamphlets on the kitchen counter as well as the bottle of champagne, opening cabinets and smiling at all the contents. The only thing absent was food. He needed to go shopping, but that was such a small thing. He ran his hands over the back of the couch in the entertainment room and picked up the remote control to the television. The television came on with the click of a button and his smile widened as he walked over to the entertainment center, pleased at the caliber of equipment they left behind.
Chris carried his luggage upstairs into his new master bedroom, pausing at the door. She would love this bed, he thought and shook his head clear before emptying his suitcases, putting his things away in the bureau. He pulled the comforter back to make sure the sheets were still there
. They had left everything as he specified; linens, kitchen utensils, and furniture.
The phone rang.
“Hello?”
“I’m calling to make sure everything is as you expected,” Betty chirped into the phone.
“Yes, please don’t call this number again,” he replied and hung up on her. He went back to the kitchen and made the half dozen calls to put his affairs in order, including extending the grounds maintenance contract and maid services, contacting the security company to change passwords internally and give contact instructions as well as the phone company to change the number to an unlisted one. It was early afternoon when he was through and he needed to get food, so he headed to the supermarket on Route 1.
Aimlessly walking down each aisle in the store, he filled his cart with whatever struck his fancy. Rounding a corner, he collided with another cart and before he could issue an apology, his gaze locked with her bloodshot eyes. The instant rush of heat encompassed him and he smiled.
“Hi.”
She glanced at his overflowing cart and raised her eyebrows. “Think you have enough there or what?”
“You look like shit, are you okay?”
“I’m okay but I feel like shit. I went on a drinking binge last night and passed out on the deck.”
Chris squashed the urge to say I know. He smiled instead.
“Looks like you’re shopping for the next year.”
“I closed on the house today.”
“That quickly?”
He nodded. “Want to see it?”
“Um,” she said and looked at his cart then back up at him.
“Never mind, bad idea,” he replied to her hesitation and began to walk away.
“No, really, I’d like to see it. It’s just...” she trailed off.
Chris looked at her. “I promise I won’t bite,” he said. “Besides, I might need a hand getting this stuff to the house. I don’t know if I have enough room in the ‘vette.”
Jessica started to laugh. “Well, if you don’t have enough room...”
