The Grey Tier

Home > Other > The Grey Tier > Page 26
The Grey Tier Page 26

by Michele Scott


  I felt my pulse speed up. “You don’t have to. Do you?”

  He groaned. “There are rules. Rules I have to follow.”

  “But don’t you ever get to have a day off from the rules?” I reached out and caressed his chest. It was like moving my hands through tropical water—warm, still, and peaceful, yet behind that calm was something bigger, something more powerful than I could comprehend. “Please break the rules again, Lucas. Just one more time. I need to feel you.”

  He bowed his head, lowering himself onto me. He dropped a slow kiss on my forehead. Then my cheeks, my eyelids, the tip of my nose, my chin . . . so softly, so sweetly. His warm, smooth hands began to explore my body and I thought I would go out of my mind between the tender kisses and the feathery touch. Every brush against my skin fueled my ache, making me want more from him.

  When he reached my toes, his lips kissing each one separately as his fingers grazed my legs, he rolled me onto my stomach where he worked his way back up, again kissing every inch of my skin and massaging every part of my body until he reached the top of my head, his fingers now intertwined in my hair, gently tugging on the strands. He gently removed my shirt and panties and his body moved closer to mine, his hands spreading my legs apart as his chest pressed against my back.

  He kissed the nape of my neck, and I felt an intense rush of pleasure as he entered me. Together we moved like an ocean wave, ever so slowly at first. When I thought I couldn’t take anymore, when I might scream with frustration, he picked up speed, taking us both further into a dizzying spiral of intensity. I felt his hands over mine again as he moved smoothly in and out. He was making it hard for me to think clearly. To think at all, really. My body responded instinctively to his as I gave myself completely to him.

  Lucas—dead or alive—had captured every piece of me.

  Body, mind, heart, and soul.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  “LUCAS, WHAT WERE YOU like when you were alive?” I asked.

  He leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes. “You know, I was an unhappy person in life. I had a lot of . . . issues.” He turned his head slightly and smiled. “Hence the tie vote.”

  I nodded. When he mentioned the tie vote from his own review, I couldn’t help wondering if he’d heard what had happened with Bob and me. If he knew I’d been at Jackson’s review, he never brought it up so I figured the less said, the better. I didn’t want to keep things from him, but I also didn’t want to ruin the moment.

  “But you were so young. You didn’t even have a chance to turn things around.”

  He smiled. “Leave it to you to try and find the good in my former wastrel existence. Truth is, I lied to people to get what I wanted. Especially to women. I manipulated friends and family. I even stole if I thought it would benefit me. I was a very selfish man.”

  “Really?” I tried hard to picture the man with me in the way he described his former self. I couldn’t do it.

  “Really. And you know what?”

  I shook my head.

  “I realize now how absolutely worthless I was. I mean, I wasn’t just hurting others . . . I was hurting myself. I was so consumed by my ego, by my need to fill in the perceived emptiness, that I missed the wonder and beauty of what I had. My musical gift, my friends, my family, my life.” He ran his hands through his hair. “It’s true what they say—you have no idea what you’ve got until it’s gone.”

  He paused for a moment and turned his deep gaze to me. The moment of silence stretched out until I began to wonder if it was my turn to speak.

  “You know what else?” His voice was hushed and slightly husky. A frisson of heat ran down my spine and those damn butterflies began doing cartwheels again.

  “Uh, what?” My voice sounded squeaky and Cass peered over at me from her perch next to Lucas. Real smooth, Evie, she seemed to be saying.

  “I know why they want you so bad. The Black.” I stared into his eyes, mesmerized. I seriously felt like I might be on the verge of a heart attack . . . it was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it loud and clear. He reached towards me again but this time, his fingers grazed my collarbone, stopping just above my heart. “They want you for the same reason I do.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that. “But you’ve already had me,” I joked.

  He smiled. “They want to consume you, and I have to be careful not to want that as well. It would only extinguish the gift you have. Truth is, we are not supposed to be doing what we’re doing, and I’m finding it harder and harder not to want to be with you in this way.”

  “Is there any way around it? Is there any possible way of us being together, like this? I mean besides, besides . . .”

  “You being dead?”

  “Yes.” I gulped.

  “No. I don’t think so.” He kissed the top of my head. “And I don’t want that. There are too many lives for you to touch and help. This is why there are a few things for me to do. It’s why I’ve been gone. I’ve been trying to find who in the Black Tier has ordered that you be under attack.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Attack?”

  Lucas hugged me to him and sighed. “You are under attack, and they want you bad. But for the Black Tier to go after you so aggressively means there was a direct order from a vibration in the Asat.”

  He fell silent for a moment. “You should know . . . I’ve also been trying to see if I can discover what happened to Hannah.”

  I didn’t respond but felt my body tighten.

  “Is there anything of hers you can give me that I can take? It may help. The eagle feathers are for you, really. They are a conduit for your gift. I need something personal of your sister’s. I promise I’ll bring it back.”

  “I do have something.” I rolled onto my side and opened the drawer to my nightstand. Taking out a box, I opened it. Inside was a silver bracelet with Hannah’s name written on it. I had one with my name on it as well. My parents had them made when we were born and they gave them to us on our respective tenth birthdays. I took it out and handed it to Lucas. “Will this work? She wore it to church on Sundays and for special occasions. I have one, too.”

  He held it up and smiled. “This is perfect.” Lucas set it on the stand next to him. “You know, beautiful girl, I think the Black Tier is taking a risk with you, one that could result in a huge pay off for them. This is why putting all of these pieces together is so important. The stronger you become with the White vibration, the more power you receive, especially when you cross over. If, by the time you make the crossing, the Black has connected your vibration to their energy, then they win, and trust me, it is all about winning for them.”

  I snuggled deeper into his chest. “I don’t want to talk about any of this right now. I only want to be here with you in this moment.”

  He gently rolled me onto my back and leaned over me. His eyes darkened, staring at my mouth. My pulse accelerated suddenly and all thoughts of the Black Tier, Nick, and my sister flew out of my head.

  “Me too. Although we can’t stay here forever, we do have now . . .” He paused, tilting his head down to place a long kiss between my breasts.

  “I wish we had forever,” I whispered, feeling his hands roam down past my hips to the sensitive spot between my thighs. I gasped and then moaned appreciatively.

  “Shh. As I said we have now,” he whispered in my ear.

  I closed my eyes, not really caring who or what was after me . . . just so long as Lucas didn’t stop.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  LUCAS’S WORDS HAUNTED me the next day. He’d mentioned consequences for our relationship—if that is what you could call it. I’d never really had a true boyfriend, so I wasn’t sure what I had with Lucas. We talked and shared. We laughed together. We made love. But there was that one issue: He was dead, and I was not.

  When I woke, he was gone along with Hannah’s bracelet. I could only hope it helped Lucas shed light on what had happened to her.

  In an effort to distract myself, I
began reviewing my ever-dwindling list of suspects in Nick’s murder. Dwight was clearly no longer on the list, even though there was still something . . . odd about him, something I couldn’t quite put a finger on.

  As for Pietro and George, I’d pretty much crossed them off as well. In any case, they were locked away, so if they had done it, they were exactly where they needed to be. But it seemed unlikely.

  And then there was Candace, who was downright pissed off at me, and Becky, who made it pretty clear she wanted me gone, and Joshua, who I was convinced hadn’t done a thing. Mumbles was Candace’s sidekick and, as far as I could tell, he had zero motive, so I placed him on the back burner.

  There was still one last person I needed to talk to: Bradley Verne.

  I knew I would have to handle him differently than I had Candace and Becky—obviously. I scrolled through my phone list and pulled up his number. I was surprised when he answered my call on the first ring.

  “This is Bradley Verne,” he said.

  “Oh hi, Bradley! This is Evie, from Nick’s?”

  “Hey! How are you? My wife and I have been meaning to stop in for a visit, but I’ve been trying to get this new project off the ground and, well, that and the daily visits to my dad are really cutting into any free time I might have had.”

  “I understand. How is your father doing?”

  He grew silent for a minute. “He’s still in a coma. Truth be told, we don’t expect him to be around much longer.” His voice was thick with emotion.

  “I am so sorry. I wish there was some way I could help.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  I clicked over to speakerphone and set the iPhone on the counter. “Hey, I know you’re busy, but I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch with me. Maybe today?”

  “I would love to,” he said, sounding genuinely disappointed. “But I have a full day today. I’m about to head over to see my dad, and I usually eat lunch there at the home.” He paused for a moment. “But if you like, you could maybe meet me there and we could visit. I know it’s not the ideal place for catching up, but you’d have a captive audience.”

  It wasn’t exactly what I’d planned, but I sensed Bradley could use some support. I agreed to meet him at noon. But . . .

  “Will Raquela be joining you as well?” As nice as she seemed, I didn’t really think I’d get very far with the whole Q&A thing if Bradley’s wife was along for the ride.

  “No. Not today. Usually she comes, but she’s got a hair appointment this afternoon so it’ll just be me and my dad.”

  “I’m sorry I won’t get to see her, but I look forward to catching up with you!” We said our goodbyes and I hung up.

  It was sheer luck Bradley had some time to meet with me today. Simone took another day off to visit the spa, and although she invited me to join her, I declined saying I needed some downtime at home. Actually, I did. But hopefully the meeting with Bradley would only take a few hours at most, and then I’d be back for a swim and dinner.

  I kissed my little animal family goodbye. I promised Cass a dip in the pool when I came home.

  “And as far as you go, fat cat . . .” I scratched Mac under his chin while he started his motor purring, “I may consider a kitty treat for you later.”

  I headed out in a surprisingly good mood considering everything that was going on. I had to attribute it to Lucas. When I thought about him, my entire body went all melty, and the images from the two nights I had spent with him made my cheeks burn and a smile spread across my face.

  Platinum Partners, the retirement home where Warren Verne lived, was up the coast quite a ways, just past Malibu. I turned off the Pacific Coast Highway and took a long, windy road up into the hills. It struck me as a bit odd that a senior residence would be so isolated, until I reached the driveway. One look around, and I quickly realized this place was designed for privacy and catered to the golden years of those who had a lot of gold to spend.

  Palm trees lined the gated drive and tropical foliage dotted the grounds. A circular drive looped gently around a massive water fountain where yellow chested birds dove in to drink and bathe. The view was worth every penny (I thought) and featured an endless expanse of deep, blue Pacific Ocean dotted by white-capped waves. Not a bad place to retire. Honestly, if I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought I was pulling into a luxury hotel. It didn’t help matters much when I spotted a valet sign. You can imagine how not-classy I felt as I rolled up to a stop in my beat up VW van. My face burned as I stepped out of the van and handed my keys to the valet. He made a good show of pretending not to be fazed by the state of my car as he stepped up to me, clipboard in hand, and asked for my name.

  “Evie Preston.”

  He jotted that down on a little claim ticket and stepped behind the valet podium to check his computer. “Welcome to Platinum Partners, Miss Preston. You are here for?”

  “Warren Verne.” I sure hoped Bradley had put my name down on the list.

  Valet guy clicked a few buttons on the keyboard and looked up, smiling. “And here you are, Miss Preston.”

  He stepped back around to my side, tore the claim ticket in half, handing me the bottom, and gamely stepped up into my van. I didn’t stick around long enough to see if it started or not. But I did wonder, briefly, if I was expected to tip this guy. I only had two-dollars in my purse, and something told me the valets here were used to getting a whole lot more.

  I walked through the massive glass double doors at the front entrance and spotted Bradley right away. He was seated in the lobby, surrounded by yet more water features and amazing art. He popped up from a sleek leather sofa. “I’m so glad you came!”

  I felt a small twinge of guilt at his words. I was glad to see him too, but my motives were far from pure. “Thank you for the invite. This place is incredible!”

  He nodded tiredly. “It is, but as you can imagine, it can also be a very sad place.” He gestured for me to join him as we began walking down a long hall. “We’ll be going over to the critical care side.”

  Bradley escorted me through another set of double doors and back outside, where we strolled across a lovely rose garden in which several elderly people sat feeding birds, talking, and playing chess. Further off in the distance, on the other side of the garden, I spotted a fenced-in pool with what appeared to be waiters carrying trays, moving purposefully amongst the occupied lounge chairs. You could call this place what you liked, but as far as I was concerned, it was a five-star hotel for the over 55 crowd. Or at least that’s what I thought until we stepped into another building that looked and felt much more like a hospital.

  It was sterile and the smell of rubbing alcohol permeated the air. Bradley checked in at a nurse’s station.

  “Hello, Mr. Verne.” A young, studly looking guy with a slight accent stood up from behind the desk. He wasn’t my type, but I am certain I was in the minority. He had massive, broad shoulders, wavy golden hair, light blue eyes, the obligatory California tan, and a smile he had to have paid a hefty price for. He looked like his name should have been Sven. Golden Sven to be exact.

  “Good afternoon, Dederick.”

  Or . . . Dederick. Dutch maybe?

  Bradley turned to me. “Dederick is my father’s head nurse. He’s been with us from the start. He’s wonderful with him.” He shifted his gaze back to the nurse. “How is Dad doing today?”

  Dederick frowned, sympathetically. “The same, sir. I’m sorry.”

  Bradley sighed sadly. “I know you’re doing what you can.” He reached out to clap Dederick gently on the arm. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll have Kristen take you down to your dad’s room today, if that’s okay. I have another patient who needs an IV bag changed and,” he leaned over towards us, lowering his voice, “he’s a bit cantankerous.”

  “Of course. No problem,” Bradley said.

  Dederick lifted a walkie talkie device to his mouth, speaking quietly into it. About thirty seconds later, a bright, attractive young
woman with some major bounce in her step approached.

  “Oh Mr. Verne!” she chirped. “So nice to see you.” Her voice held more than a hint of a southern accent . . . Georgia maybe? Alabama?

  “You, too.” He turned to me. “Evie, this is Kristen. Kristen just happens to be my dad’s favorite nurse. Go figure.”

  We all shared a laugh and Kristen smiled cheerfully. Clearly Mr. Verne liked his women young and pretty.

  Dederick cleared his throat gently. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on that patient.” He turned to go and then stopped momentarily. “Oh, and before I forget, Miss Preston, I’ll need to take your purse and place it in one of our secure lockers. We don’t allow bags of any sort into our critical care room, for security reasons.”

  “Oh okay. Sure.” I handed him my purse. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to have it away from my person but rules were rules.

  “I’ll be back at the nurse’s station when you’re finished and can retrieve it for you.”

  I nodded.

  “Nice meeting,” he said, smiling again.

  “And you.”

  Dederick turned to leave, and we followed perky Kristen down the hall. She opened the door to a dimly lit room. In the middle was a narrow bed on wheels. Lying on the bed was a very thin and weathered looking elderly man. He was pale, almost grey, and hooked up to all sorts of machines. The only sound in the room was the repetitive pumping noise from one of the machines.

  Bradley pulled up a seat for me and Kristen excused herself. Bradley didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Finally he broke the silence.

  “You know, he was always so disappointed in me. Always. I have been trying to please him since the day I was born. Or at least that’s how it feels. I love him so much. I wanted to be like him. But he never really loved me. Not the way he did Nick.”

 

‹ Prev