02 Unforgivable - Untouchable

by Lindsay Delagair

  Ryan’s hand went up to shush me, “I don’t know if I want to hear about what he did to get you to sleep.”

  “Ryan,” I stated with surprise, “we didn’t have sex until after we got married. He would just crawl in bed and hold me and then we could both sleep. It’s like we became so bonded when we had to stay together because of the contract that now it’s as if something inside me is actually...” The tears were coming to the surface as I looked away so he wouldn’t notice, but it was too late.

  He reached over and turned my chin toward him, “It’s okay to cry, Leese. Go ahead and finish what you were saying.”

  I sighed as I let the tears fall, “Something inside me is missing and I have to wonder if he’s been able to sleep at all either.”

  “So how does he hold you when you sleep together?”

  His hand gently caressed the side of my face and then swept slowly through my hair. I closed my eyes in response to the touch, “We’d… Why?” I asked suddenly more alert than before the soft lull snagged me when he touched my face.

  “How about a replacement?” he whispered.

  That caused a heated flush through my system as the thought of Ryan holding me in bed hit me, “No—I don’t’ want to give you, or me, the wrong idea.”

  “Just tell me how he holds you? Please, Leese. I’m not going to try to jump your bones. I’ve got a little more restraint than that.”

  “But what if I don’t,” I said softly.

  I could see that took him completely off guard as a light smile came to his face, “I could only hope, but I think we both know you’re more level headed than that.”

  “Usually, yeah, but I swear it hurts so bad that I just feel…” It was time to shut up and not tell him what had been going through my head when I focused on the physical instead of the mental. Mentally I was strong enough for a lifetime of denial, but physically? That had become another issue entirely.

  “Tell me how he holds you,” he repeated, “or I’m buying you some sleeping pills, and I am big enough to make you take one.”

  I was thinking there was no way he was big enough to do that, but right now I wasn’t up for the challenge, “I’m usually on my side and he just fits behind me and wraps his arm around my waist.”

  “Tonight you and I are going to see if we can get you to stay asleep.”

  He wasn’t leaving room for rebuttal, but I had to have a little more from him than the simple statement that he was going to be my ‘Micah’ stand-in, “If I’m not comfortable with this Ryan, you—”

  “I’ll get out of the bed and leave you by yourself,” he finished for me.

  “And,” I said, coming to the real crux of the matter, “If I’m too comfortable, you won’t let me cross any lines.”

  He rolled his eyes, “I’m just curious, but if this is a permanent situation between you and him, and you honestly change your mind about—about us at some point, how will I know you aren’t just getting ‘too comfortable’ as you put it?”

  I had to think about that. He had a valid question, but I wanted to believe, in my heart of hearts, God would work something out for Micah and me. I’d seen His plan unfolding all along, and I was amazed how He had gotten me through what should have been the end of my life to the point I was at right now, but what if His plan changed? What if I felt honestly led to embrace more from Ryan than friendship? This was a deeper thought than I planned to tackle anytime soon. What if Ryan was the new plan for my life? I looked at him and knew he sensed how difficult this question was for me to answer. But, I could answer it.

  “First, you’ve got to promise me you won’t stop looking for the right girl to come along. I don’t want you holding your breath, waiting for me to change my mind. God will put the right person in your path someday and, if it’s not me, I don’t want to be what holds you back if you find her.”

  “I can promise that, but tell me how to know it’s for real between you and me, and not just because we get a little too comfortable with each other.”

  “If I ever, wide awake, ask you to make love to me, I’ll mean it. But if I ask you, it’ll mean I want the rest of our lives to be together; I don’t go for the one-night-stand concept.”

  “I don’t know how any man could ever want only one night with you,” he finally gave me that big smile and said he was ready for lunch.

  I could tell he was anxious to put our plan into action tonight; I couldn’t help but think this wasn’t the best idea. The closer it came to bedtime, the less sure I was of trying this.

  “If you don’t mind,” I said as it became late, “I’d like to go to bed by myself. I can fall asleep, I just can’t seem to stay that way. Once I’m out, slip in beside me and we’ll find out if this is going to work or not.”

  He nodded as I left the couch and went to bed. I was afraid I might not be able to drift off, but exhaustion took over and unconsciousness crept in. I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or if I actually felt the moment he slipped in beside me. I had that wonderful sensation of Micah’s strong arm gathering me against his body, a soft kiss against my neck and then a feeling of peace filled me.

  It was after ten in the morning when my eyes fluttered open. It had worked and I actually had gotten a full night’s sleep. A warm arm was wrapped around my waist and I could feel his breath against my hair. It only took an instant to remember I wasn’t in Micah’s embrace. Being awake, together, in this position wouldn’t be good so I attempted to slip out from under his arm and get out of the bed before he stirred. He was a late sleeper so I didn’t think this would be a difficult feat, until I tried to move his arm. His grip tightened, hard. I heard him moaning and making some unintelligible sounds, but he never lightened his hold. I grabbed his wrist and put a little more force into trying to lift his arm.

  “No.” His hips pushed firmly against my butt as his arm moved slightly lower to keep me from pulling away.

  I couldn’t see his face so I didn’t know if he told me no in his sleep or if he was awake and refusing to let go of me. “Ryan,” I whispered.

  He inhaled deeply and moaned again.

  I was certain at this point he was still asleep, but that didn’t change the problem of me getting away. Just as I made another attempt, the arm moved but not the way I expected as his hand came up and clutched my breast. “Ryan!”

  He jerked awake, “Huh? Wha—shit!” He quickly withdrew his hand when he understood why I was making a loud complaint. He rolled onto his back, putting both hands in front of him as if to show he wasn’t touching anything he shouldn’t, “Sorry, sorry, I’m clear.”

  Being ‘clear’ was a pilot’s term as if it was propellers on my chest instead of boobs. “I didn’t realize I was an airplane,” I laughed.

  He rolled away and buried his face down into the pillow, “Damn, I hate waking up fast. I always say something stupid,” then his head lifted as a tiny smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, “but you slept all night, didn’t you?”

  “I did—thank you.” I hoped he could tell how very sincere I was, I didn’t think I could go three days without rest.

  “Sorry about the…” he made a motion with his hand like he was squeezing an invisible ball. “I didn’t mean to…” His face was red.

  “We’ve got to get that hair dyed back so it doesn’t match your face when you blush.”

  He laughed as he rolled out of the bed and onto his feet. Just as he was rising, Harvey’s house phone began ringing. We shot each other a worried glance as he moved toward the nightstand to answer it.

  “No! It might be Micah. I—I can’t talk to him.”

  “Leese, he doesn’t know we’re here. It’s got to either be Harvey or my mom.” He picked up the receiver slowly and said hello. “Harvey,” he sighed with relief. But I could hear the sound of the caller’s panicked voice as the look on Ryan’s face changed, “Shit! When? Are you sure he’s headed here? When did he leave?”

  I didn’t know what the outcome was going to be, but I was alread
y up grabbing my clothes and items and throwing them into my duffle bags.

  “Do you know what he’s flying in? Damn, Harvey, that doesn’t give me more than thirty minutes! All right, yeah I know. I hate to say it but we’re leaving right now, we won’t have time to straighten up the house and I’ll probably leave your truck down at the hanger. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Okay, we’re out of here. I’ll let you know where you can find the plane when—all right, bye.” He slammed the phone down and started grabbing his things.

  He didn’t have to say a word; there wasn’t time as we threw our bags together.

  “Let’s go,” he said, pushing the last of his clothes down and pulling the zipper.

  I was going through my mind making sure I had everything. I had my money and my clothes and other items, so there was nothing I was forgetting as we jumped into the big Dodge and fired it up. We backed out and took off at breakneck speed. There were a few other pilots down at the hanger when we pulled up.

  “We’ve got an emergency,” he said as he approached them, “can you guys help me get it out of the hanger?” The men hooked the small tractor they kept at the hanger to the plane and pulled it out into the sunshine. They evidently didn’t like the idea that Ryan was ready to jump into the plane without a preflight check, but then he told them it was a matter of life or death. They helped load our bags and then convinced him that no preflight might also be a life or death matter, but they would help him complete it quickly.

  “You can’t just leave the truck parked here,” one of the men said to him as we prepared to board.

  “Harvey will be here in about three hours and he’ll move the truck. If that’s not fast enough for you, I left the keys in the ignition, but we have to go,” he said, practically pushing me up the steps into the plane. I went to the front and sat in the co-pilot’s seat. Ryan joined me, starting the engines and then waiting impatiently as they came to life. The men gave him the thumbs-up and he began driving the plane to the air strip. We taxied from the center down to the end and then he turned the plane around and it was only a matter of moments and we were airborne.

  As soon as we had climbed thousands of feet and were pointed to the northwest, I was ready to ask.

  “Micah is on his way here, isn’t he?”

  Ryan glanced at his instrument display, “I should have fueled before we left. We’ve only got enough for another four hundred miles or so.” He was touching the display changing items on screen, but he wasn’t answering my question. “Murfreesboro has a small municipal airport, we’ll stop there. We’ll be there in about forty minutes.”

  “Ryan, please.”

  He looked at me for the first time since we had boarded the plane, “Yeah, he found us.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. Harvey got a call from a friend of his at the airport and said a guy had flown in this morning from Louisiana and had a cop with him. They wanted to know about my plane and then about any small planes that took off in about a two hour time span on Monday. There were only five and they were asking if I was piloting any of them.”

  “But you used Harvey’s name on your flight plan, how—”

  “I know, but one of the guys in the control room mentioned that Harvey and I were good friends and then someone else mentioned the flight plan couldn’t have been right because they saw Harvey that afternoon. I guess it was all he needed. He’s in a Gulfstream 350, and Harvey said they flew out of there around 8:30 or 8:45. If someone hadn’t called Harvey, you would have seen Micah this morning, and I don’t think he would have been happy to see me.”

  My head went back against the seat as my heart continued to pound in my chest, “I never, ever should have agreed to let you help me,” I choked. I could feel the emotions wadded up in my throat, but nothing was rising to my eyes. If Micah didn’t show up with his pistols strapped to his sides, it wouldn’t matter because he would beat Ryan to death, and I know I couldn’t stop him.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said, his hand reaching over and squeezing mine.

  “He’s just going to follow us to wherever we go and—”

  “Only if he’s a freaking psychic! He can’t follow us this time; we don’t have a flight plan.”

  “Will you be in trouble for that?”

  “The FAA wants every trip to have a flight plan, but for small aircraft it’s only strongly recommended. They can’t pull my license or anything for not doing it.”

  My heart was beginning to slow from its fast pace and air was returning to my lungs. Running away from Micah I had known all along wasn’t going to be easy, but I never expected him to find me so quickly.

  Chapter Ten

  Micah studied the property records on his laptop. He found Harvey Pinchon’s information at Heaven’s Landing. He knew exactly which house he would be going to when they landed in a few moments. He turned off the computer and closed the lid.

  Gwen gave him a sympathetic look as they descended onto the mountaintop airstrip.

  He hated that look. He didn’t want sympathy. In fact, he didn’t want her along at all, but he’d made himself bring her so it would be easier to get information at the airport, and so when he found them, she could talk him out of killing Ryan.

  They landed and taxied toward the hangers where a group of men were standing.

  Micah wasted no time in concocting a believable story. “Hello,” he said as he and Gwen disembarked. “Harvey sent us up here to check on some friends staying at his place.”

  “You just missed them,” one man quickly offered. “They flew out of here about fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Do you know where they were headed?” Gwen asked.

  “No,” another man answered, “but they were in a hell-fire hurry, said it was a matter of life or death. The guy wasn’t even going to do his preflight check, but we talked him into it.”

  “He didn’t even fuel up,” the first man added. “He only had about a third of a tank so he won’t go more than a couple hundred miles before he has to refuel. And,” he added, pointing to the big black truck, “He left Harvey’s truck sitting here with the keys in the ignition.”

  “I’ll take the truck back up to Harvey’s,” Micah said smoothly.

  No one was going to argue with someone his size, nor with a cop, as they watched the two of them get in Harvey’s truck.

  Micah had the information from the computer memorized, so it was no problem for him to pull into the right driveway.

  “I’m going inside,” he simply told Gwen.

  “That’s breaking and entering, Micah, I don’t think—”

  “Then stay outside,” he growled back. “See if there is a garage door opener in the—”

  Gwen already had it in hand. She had found it in the seat when she climbed in, but hadn’t shown it until now. She hit the button and the door went up.

  Micah smiled at the open door inside the garage leading into the house, “You don’t have to come inside.”

  Gwen didn’t say anything as she followed.

  The house wasn’t messy, but it was obvious they left in a rush. Micah inspected each room; pausing the longest as he looked at the unmade bed. He went into the master bath and then left the room and headed to the kitchen. He pulled out the kitchen garbage can and took off the lid and began pulling out empty Wal-Mart bags. Eventually he found the bag he was looking for as he removed a receipt and put it in his pocket. A little further down, below a couple more bags he stopped and stared for a long moment.

  Gwen started to walk toward him when he spewed out an obscenity and slammed his fist through the kitchen wall.

  “Micah!”

  Three more powerful punches to the wall and she was struggling to get a grip on his arms. “Stop. Quit being an idiot! You’re going to hit a stud in a minute and break your hand!”

  “Damn it, Gwen—Damn it all to hell,” he didn’t sound furious at the moment, only defeated. “Do you have,” he tried to say, but his voice caught on the words
. He took a choppy breath and tried again, “Do you have an extra hair tie or a rubber band?”

  Gwen reached up and pulled the hair band from her short pony tail and handed it to Micah.

  He reached into the trash and removed a big lock of shimmering brown hair about eighteen inches long. He wrapped the end of the hair carefully and tightly with the band and then shook it as the intermixed black hairs fell away. He smoothed the hair between his fingers until it was straight and then slowly lifted it to his face and inhaled deeply, “It smells just the way it did the morning she left me.”

  Gwen had no words to comfort him, as she rubbed her hand softly on the back of his broad shoulder.

  He coiled the hair and placed it carefully into his shirt pocket and then reached back into the trash and pulled out several bottles of hair color and their boxes, “I believe my wife is a blonde now, with highlights.” He grabbed a half-filled bottle of red. “And the asshole is now a redhead.”

  He looked around the house for a few more minutes and then walked outside. He had the sales receipt in hand and was dialing the store’s phone number, “Yes, can you tell me where you’re located if I’m coming from Heaven’s Landing? And is April working this morning? Thank you.” He closed the phone and opened the door to the truck as he started to get in.

  “Micah, you can’t just take this truck. We’ve got to call a cab.”

  “Can’t a police officer commandeer a vehicle?”

  “Yes, I can, but—”

  “Good, then you drive,” he said, handing her the keys.

  Within fifteen minutes they were approaching the customer service desk as Gwen showed them the receipt pointing to the name of the cashier on the paper, “Hello, I’m police chief Gavarreen and this is detective—”

  “Michaelson,” Micah said, reaching out and shaking the manager’s hand. “We need to speak to April regarding a missing person that came through her line a few days ago.”