Blackmail & Lace

by Tracy A. Ward

  “I’m not a genius or anything,” I said, maybe a little too defensively.

  “Maybe not, but you’d still have to be incredibly smart and even more driven to accomplish so much so young.” He reached for the dash and dialed the temperature down a few notches. “What if I hadn’t shown up tonight, or any night for that matter? If you only deferred med school for a year…”

  “I never wanted to be a doctor,” I blurted.

  He gave me a look, like I’d given him a cop-out answer, compelling me to explain. “It was my parents’ expectations. It was what they wanted for me. To be like them, like my grandparents, like Rebecca. But Rebecca taught me how short life is.”

  “So you used her death as your out.”

  I laughed bitterly. “You make it sound so convenient.”

  “So answer the question. Whether I wanted to be or not, Rebecca made me part of this. What were you going to do if I hadn’t showed up?”

  I wasn’t about to tell Adam what the High Priestess said. Instead I stuck with, “I have no idea.”

  Adam pulled a face at that one. Like the thought of not having a plan was unheard of.

  “Someone who wakes up at 5 am, has coffee at 5:10 and breakfast at 5:30 seems to have a regimented structure for everything. A plan.”

  “I didn’t plan on stopping in a hole in the wall bar tonight. Nor did I plan on being seduced.”

  “You kissed me. I didn’t make the first move. And then you flat-out turned me down.”

  “I also didn’t expect to find my blackmailer irresistible.”

  The way he said it in that silky smooth voice felt like a feather-touch over raw nerve endings. My pulse sped as goosebumps broke out.

  Adam Holder was nothing if not a pretty talker. I’d watched the LaKendrick Smith trial on cable. Even if LaKen had laundered that money to cover a prostitution ring, which I don’t believe he did, I had no doubt he would’ve been found not-guilty by the jury. But the case never went that far. Even the prosecution knew they’d jumped the gun, going for an indictment before they dug deeper and gotten all the facts. Once Adam Holder outlined his case, he publicly embarrassed the government and made LaKendrick Smith look like an under-privileged kid who’d been taken advantage of in the process.

  That’s why I wasn’t buying Adam’s so-called “demands.” Like with his most recent client, it was all about diversions and build-ups. To what, I wasn’t quite sure.

  “I was honest with you, so you be honest with me. What do you really want in return for this?”

  “I want the tape deleted.”

  “Fair enough,” I said, maybe a little too quickly. Wondered what he would do if he found out there was no tape to delete.

  “But I also want you naked…serving me.”

  Our eyes locked in the cab of the SUV. Sexual tension swelled, threatening to swallow us both. He reached across the console and unbuckled my seatbelt. Then he pulled me across and onto his lap.

  “Should I feed you by hand?” I asked.

  With his palm on the back of my neck he pulled me closer, until our foreheads touched. “You’re playing with fire, Grayson.”

  I licked at his lips. Our eyes held. I whispered, “Do you want me on my knees while I’m serving you?”

  He growled. “Fuck it.”

  His mouth came down hard on mine. With desperation, he drank and took and zapped all thoughts I had for anything except him. His fingers wound through my hair, cupped my face, then traveled down my neck. At the same time, my hands reciprocated.

  God he was tight. I could feel the tautness in the square of his shoulders and the set of his jaw. I wanted to work that tension out of him. To make him lose control. I wondered exactly what it would take to push him to that edge.

  “You can’t stand thinking someone else has the upper hand, can you?” I said against his mouth. “Is that why you’re trying to turn the tables?”

  Adam slid the flannel shirt from my shoulders, taking the straps of my camisole and bra with it. His lips traveled the same path. “You don’t win without it.”

  “Ever think there’s more to life than winning?”

  He replied without hesitation. “No. There’s nothing more important than winning.”

  “Really?” I worked my undergarments lower.

  His palms covered my breasts. Thumbs stroked my nipples until my eyes closed. I arched into him, begging for the heat of his mouth as he sucked and pulled the hardened peaks. When my eyes opened, his gaze locked on mine.

  “You don’t even realize it,” he said.

  “What?”

  “That I’ve already won and you’re the prize.”

  My hands slid over his shirt, down his chest, and to the buckle of his belt. “If I’m the prize then claim it, Adam. Stop jerking us both around and fuck me.”

  Pushing my hands aside, Adam loosened his belt. Then he pulled me snug against him, so that I notched around the hard length of him.

  Somehow, amidst the frenzied movements, our mouths merged again until soon I couldn’t tell who was staggering across that line of control. But since my sister’s death, I’d learned there was an exhilaration in letting go. Of allowing life to happen. To ride free with the wind in my face, arms outstretched, basking in the freefall. My life before the summer of Rebecca had been so structured, predictable, and boring. But she’d helped me see that I wasn’t really living my life at all.

  Adam shifted again, allowing the kiss to deepen. The dark flavor of him, like spice infused tequila, left me desperately hanging on, drinking like it was last call at the bar. Then his hand moved between us, cupping my center as his thumb circled the perfect spot.

  “I’m going to make you come so fucking hard.”

  And oh, God, yes, I wanted to. I wanted to feel him deep inside me. To experience what it was like with him when inhibitions and baser instincts collided. To let those mind-blowing contractions lock around him.

  “Turn around, Grayson,” Adam said, like he’d read my mind. “I need you. Now.”

  One of his hands knocked against the windshield wipers as he tried to help me turn and move the seat back at the same time. My knee honked the horn. Finally, with his hands at my waist, I used the console and the door handle to hover above him. Adam had my leggings halfway down my hips before he stopped.

  Something screeched and slid across the hood of the SUV, but all I saw were iridescent eyes. Adam and I jumped in surprise. My head snapped back against him.

  The beat of his heart slammed against my spine when I lost balance and collapsed on top of him. Our heavy breathing from anticipation and arousal suddenly became something else.

  “What the hell was that?” I said.

  “A lynx. I think your head broke my nose. But don’t worry, no blood.”

  Taking seconds for my brain to process what just happened, that a giant cat had jumped across…

  “Shit! Shit, shit, shiiiitttttt,” I said, jerking up my pants and crawling back over to the passenger seat. “Crutches!”

  He ran fingers along the sides of his nose. “Why would I need crutches?”

  “Crutches the cat is locked out in the storm. We have to get to Swiss Mountain. Now.”

  Chapter Eight

  Adam

  Crutches wasn’t a cat, more like a mountain lion. She looked similar to the lynx that had put a skidding stop to my interlude with Grayson and because of that, I disliked the animal on sight. But that didn’t mean I was a monster who wanted the cat to freeze to death either. Based on the icicles forming on her thick fur, we’d arrived at the cabin just in time.

  I approached the cat.

  Grayson’s arm shot out, halting me in my path. “Give her a wide berth. She’s feral. She’ll leave us alone if we do the same.”

  Feeling sorry for the shivering Crutches, I took off my coat and scooped the cat up, wrapping her in warmth. She looked up at me with big gray eyes, let out a low growl, squirmed just enough to get comfortable then relaxed against my chest.

/>   I grinned at Grayson whose jaw had fallen. “This is your idea of feral?”

  “She’s never…” Grayson’s mouth snapped shut. Her eyes narrowed on the cat and she pointed. “Diabolical.” She bent and lifted a key from under a pot. Once the door was open, Grayson stepped aside. I couldn’t keep from laughing when Crutches hissed at her as we passed.

  The cat wiggled free the moment we entered and ran to the back of the house.

  “I’m going to go check on her food and water,” Grayson said. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, call Care Flight.”

  I nodded, went to retrieve our bags, and dropped them in the foyer. With everything we needed for the foreseeable future now inside, I took a look around.

  The house was stunning and could’ve been a showpiece were it not so well lived in. Piles of catalogs and other discarded junk mail overflowed on an entry table. A colorful glass bowl filled with an assortment of keys and change rested beside it. Family photos lined the cedar-planked hallway leading into the living room. Based on the pictures and certificates of achievement, the owner of the cabin was an architect. I followed the wood floors down three steps into the den. A two-story stone fireplace flanked by walls of floor to ceiling windows acted as the focal point in the oversized room. An elk head watched over the inhabitants from above the thick cedar mantel. Aztec pillows and a matching blanket were strewn about a large leather sectional. Newspapers and magazines covered an oversized ottoman. A thick, colorful rug rested on the floor beneath.

  Knowing it was only a matter of time before we lost power, I pulled an armful of wood and kindling from the rack and began building a fire.

  My cell rang. It was my sister, Elise.

  “Did you get your early admission application mailed to Penn?” I said in greeting.

  “Yes,” she said in the long-suffering teenager voice she’d perfected. “God, you’re such a nag. You know, Adam, you used to be fun.”

  I used to not have to play daddy to my kid sister either. But everything changed a few years ago when our mother attempted the unthinkable. Elise had been my fulltime responsibility ever since.

  “Remember that time you let me skip school to go to that indie-rock festival in New York with Brantley Cove?”

  I finished forming a teepee from quarter-inch logs then began stuffing kindling between them. “How could I forget? It took me six months to get the DA’s office to drop the charges.” It had been the one time I’d been thankful for a backed up docket. And the DA had more pressing matters than to haggle out a minor in possession charge. It also helped that Brantley Cove was a billionaire’s granddaughter. “What’s your point?”

  “My point is, that’s when you stopped being cool, and the big brother I could tell anything to.”

  Possibly because that incident and some sound advice from Grandma made me realize I had to stop being a brother and start being a parent.

  “You’re not my father, Adam. I can make my own decisions and I can take care of myself. I get money from Mom every month. I’ve been saving.”

  “Guilt money. Isn’t that what you called it? Thought you were donating your monthly stipend to charity.” I angled my head. “You want my permission not come to Rosie’s for fall break next week, don’t you?”

  “You never ask me what I want, Adam.”

  “Okay, Elise,” I said in a placating tone. “What do you want?”

  “I want to go skiing with friends over fall break.”

  “Good. Bring your friends to Fort Collins. I’m sure Grandma won’t mind if you all stay in the bunkhouse. The snow’s better here than in the northeast anyway. Besides, the whole family is around. You haven’t seen everyone since summer.”

  Elise fumed. “I can’t wait ‘til I turn eighteen.”

  Some days, I couldn’t wait ‘til she turned eighteen either. But we were months away from that.

  “You know it’s been three years this month, right?” Elise said. “Since Corinne…”

  “Since our mother attempted suicide.” I combed fingers through my hair. Whether she was sent money each month or not, Elise’s anger over being abandoned was as fresh today as it had been three years ago. Though I couldn’t completely fault my sister for holding back her forgiveness, Corinne had been working hard to get her life back on track. Unfortunately, Elise had been an infant when we lost our father and all she remembered of our mother was a woman who was too weak to overcome her own grief. “She’s doing the best she can, Elise.”

  “Why do you always make excuses for her? Because of her selfishness, because she tried to take her own life, an innocent person ended up dying.”

  Whoa. Where had that come from? “What do you know about that night?”

  “I overheard Grandma talking to Uncle Robert. The woman who saved Corinne’s life was hit by a snow plow.”

  This much Elise had right. “Yes, and she ended up having a liver transplant. She was released a week later.”

  “Not according to Uncle Robert. There was some sort of complication. She ended up dying a couple of days before she was scheduled to go home.”

  It wasn’t entirely surprising that my sister had all this information. She’d always been an eavesdropping little sneak who could hide in the tightest of spaces. Still, I would’ve thought Uncle Robert, if not Rosie, would’ve informed me of this development when it had happened. Why hadn’t they?

  “You were lead attorney on your first big case,” Elise said, reading my mind. “They agreed you already had too much on your plate to worry about. Adding one more thing wouldn’t change what happened.”

  I remembered the time vividly. Senator Effingham had allegedly violated campaign finance laws and all the partners at Mailor, Locke were advising that he resign and take his punishment. Though the deck was stacked against us, the law in one area was ambiguous enough that it allowed me to twist it in Effingham’s favor. Effingham’s reputation might’ve been momentarily tarnished, but he didn’t have to pay a single fine, serve time, or resign his post. I made non-equity partner later that year.

  I heard footsteps headed toward the living room.

  “Listen, Elise, I’m sorry but I’ve got to go. We’ll discuss the fall break discussion in a couple of days.”

  “But...”

  “Love you, kid.”

  “Elise?” Grayson said from behind.

  I turned. “My sister.”

  Something close to relief crossed her face but she didn’t comment further. “There should be matches somewhere over there, behind the picture with Jay-Z.”

  I turned again, finding a photo of Grayson and a dark-haired girl, arms around the hip-hop star, on the corner of the mantel. Just as she said, there was a box of matches. I struck one and finished building the fire. Minutes later and in a sour mood from what Elise had told me about my mother, I joined Grayson in the kitchen.

  “You want a sandwich? I found this. Hope it’s okay.” She added a loaf of bread to her assortment of meats, cheese, condiments and veggies piled on the island. “I’m not much of a cook. This is about as good as it gets.”

  I walked to the corner of the kitchen, placed one hand on a doorknob and pointed a finger to the other. “This the pantry?”

  She nodded.

  “Find a bottle of wine and open it. I’ll handle dinner.”

  By the time Grayson returned, I’d added ingredients to jazz up some canned soup and had butter melting in a pan for grilled ham and cheese.

  “Wow,” she said, coming up beside me. “It smells delicious.” Grayson pulled the cork from a bottle of cab and poured two glasses. She put one beside me on the counter by the stove, then took hers and had a seat at the bar. “If that legal career doesn’t work out for you, you might make it as a chef.”

  I tucked a hand towel into the waistband of my jeans then put the sandwiches on to grill. “Cooking’s one of my stress relievers.”

  Though my back was to her, I could hear her verbal brow raise. “One of?”

  “I also do some
light woodworking and of course there’s sex.”

  She coughed. Her glass landed with a clink when she set it on the granite counter. Back still turned, I grinned, feeling some of the knots that had formed while talking to Elise dissolve. Odd how being near Grayson seemed to be having that effect on me.

  I looked over my shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Never better. Need some help?”

  I turned the burner down on the soup. I didn’t need help, but I’d take the excuse to have Grayson next to me rather than on the other side of that island. “You could stir this pot.” Then I handed her the spoon and sipped my wine, waiting another minute before flipping the sandwiches. “I know this is a heavy topic for tonight, but I didn’t say it before. I’m sorry about your sister. I didn’t really know Rebecca, but I knew who she was. She seemed nice. I’m still trying to wrap my head around her being the reason we’re here.”

  Grayson stared into the pot she stirred. “Thank you. She was my half-sister actually, and we didn’t grow up together. I didn’t even know her well when you did. It’s something I’ll always regret.” She smiled. “But we were close her last few years. So I have that.”

  I flipped the sandwiches and gave Grayson a minute to collect herself. “Was it an illness? Cancer?”

  She shook her head. “No, nothing like that. It was an accident after her shift at the hospital, ironically during a snowstorm. A woman crashed into a bridge guardrail. She was disoriented.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose, accompanied by a powerful knot of dread.

  Grayson continued. “Rebecca stopped to render aid. We’re not exactly sure the sequence of events, but at some point Becca ran back to her car, slipped on the ice and fell into the path of an oncoming truck.”

  I cleared my throat. “What kind of truck?”

  She looked at me funny. “I don’t know. Seems like it was a snow plow of some sort. Anyway, she had significant damage to most of her major organs when her abdomen was crushed. Acute liver failure is what eventually took her life.”

  Something I couldn’t quite name pulled at my gut while the blood drained from my exremeties. In the meantime, I willed my body not to show any outward signs. “What about the woman who crashed? What happened to her?”