In the Garden of Discontent

by Lily White

  On his own, Noah had to work himself in with complicated folds to get back here, his body far too big for this tiny car. Yet, we’d managed, and maybe that was due to the desperation we felt, the connection we had that would never be severed, the ache inside us both when we tried to sleep at night.

  It was probably a good thing I was tiny.

  His hand splayed over the cheek of my ass and he pushed me forward, my face squishing against the glass like the weird kid on the school bus who licked the window. It would look silly to any poor soul who passed by, but we were in the middle of nowhere, just him and me, finding inventive ways to work our bodies.

  I didn’t mind being shoved up tight against the door. Especially not when he had me on my hands and knees, his face between my legs, tongue lapping at how wet I was for him while his nose grazed another hole that clenched with how good I felt. I wanted him there, wanted him everywhere, wanted his mark on every part of me.

  The tip of his tongue dipped inside me, his hand reaching to work my clit and my arms shook to hold me up, every muscle threatening to give out as he licked and kissed, dove and nibbled, driving me so fucking wild I thought I’d lose my mind eventually.

  “Dammit, we’re supposed to be sleeping,” he groaned.

  I laughed. We could sleep when we were dead, my body curled up beside him where it was supposed to be when that finally happened.

  Twenty-two years being locked up in a cage had created a hungry man, his drive and stamina exhausting me every time we pulled over because we couldn’t get enough. But the breaks were good for us. They were moments in time where we could forget where we were going and why.

  “I want you inside me.”

  He grabbed my hips, his fingers punishing in their strength. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  And then he was pulling me down to tower over me, a thump making me laugh when his head hit the roof, my laughter dying off quickly when he used his fingers to spread me wide and thrust fully inside me.

  Noah’s hand splayed on the window to gain leverage, the car rocking so hard I could hear metal scraping beneath us, but I didn’t give much of a damn at that moment, not with my body stretched wide and his hand sliding up to my throat.

  I could barely move my legs with how tight his thighs were between them, but then again, I didn’t have to move, not with him lifting my back to his chest with his hand around my throat. Noah’s other hand gripped my breast and his teeth bit down into my shoulder.

  He was savage, this man, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Seriously, if this is what prison did to people, everybody should go there at least once.

  Steam covered the windows and the car kept rocking. The shocks would be shit eventually, but we didn’t care, all that mattered was that our bodies fit together just right, my mouth hanging open as sweat dripped between us. Fuck, he loved me so good that I was alive again.

  Grunting with every hard thrust, Noah released my breast to slide down my body and work my clit, our bodies bouncing together, my head falling back against his shoulder, and I wanted more. Wanted him everywhere. Wanted him there.

  Call me fucking crazy (that’s okay, I am) but I needed the stretch, the pain, the feeling that there wasn’t an inch of my body he hadn’t loved as beautifully as he could love it.

  The pain.

  I needed the pain.

  Especially when he was the one to give it to me.

  Reaching behind us, I grabbed his cock before he could drive it in again, my fingers pulling him out then sliding off the condom to drop it down to the seat. He froze behind me, his breath beating against my cheek and his shoulders going rigid when I directed him up to where I wanted him.

  A fingertip slid down the side of my throat to catch a bead of sweat when he asked, “Are you sure?”

  I nodded, not really sure of much, but sure I wanted to give that to him.

  “Ens, you don’t have to do this.”

  It wasn’t about obligation. It was about need.

  “I want to.”

  My stomach fluttered when he took a second to make his decision. It wasn’t a hard one, really. If a girl is asking nicely, you’re supposed to give it to her.

  “Please,” I whispered.

  He growled a funny complaint, then pushed the tip inside me. Just the tip, his muscles tense as he waited for me to relax and get used to the feeling.

  His forehead fell against my shoulder, and I knew he was holding himself back, taking his time, making sure he didn’t hurt me.

  “More,” I said, reaching over us to grab his hair and pull him forward.

  He pushed deeper, and the burn slid up my skin warming my belly and straightening my spine. “More.”

  “Fucking hell,” he grumbled, but I could feel his smile. Pulling out, he pushed in again, slow, steady thrusts going deeper and deeper until he was seated inside me, my body clenching him and his breath coming out in sporadic, quick bursts.

  My fingers gripped his hair harder, like tugging the reins of a wild horse. “Now go.”

  And he did. God, how he did. Hands sliding over my slick skin, he pushed my body up with every thrust, my knees moving to accommodate him, his fingers exploring down between my legs, dipping and teasing, rolling over that spot that sent chills up my body.

  “Like that?” he whispered, and I nodded my head because that was exactly what I’d wanted.

  “Fuck, Ensley, we’re never going to make it to New Orleans if you keep this up.”

  His voice was raspy and ragged, breath hot on my skin as our bodies slid together and a moan crawled up my throat. Grabbing my hand with one of his, he slid it up to massage my breast, his mouth exploring my neck and shoulder, his teeth nipping and biting before his tongue swept out to soothe the skin.

  It felt like I was on fire all over, an orgasm teasing me deep down as Noah spoke dirty words against my body.

  A pressure built inside me as he thrust harder and deeper, and like a wire snapping inside me, I lost the ability to control myself, my lips parted as his name poured out, a violent tremor taking over as he pushed deeper one more time and his cock pulsed as he came.

  Noah had owned me since the moment he watched me from his window and called out to me the first time. I may not have known it then, but I knew it now, and was a better woman for it, his name was chiseled over every bone and branded on every organ.

  I was his.

  In body. In mind. And in spirit.

  We collapsed together after that, our hearts pounding and our lungs struggling for air, but somehow we found a way to wrap ourselves together with his eyes staring down at mine.

  “We don’t have to do this, you know? We can just leave. Can let it all stay in the past without worrying about the truth. We can run, Ens, and never come back.”

  I would have given anything for it to be that easy. “I have to know. It will always haunt me if I don’t. I believe you didn’t kill my family now, but I need to know who did. I need to know why.”

  Brushing a hair from my face, his eyes darkened. He was worried. We weren’t in the best position to be driving around and putting ourselves out there. Not with him being a wanted man. Not with the risk that we were taking.

  Noah’s forehead dropped to mine and he flicked his tongue over the tip of my nose. “Then we’ll finish the drive tomorrow and talk to him. I don’t like this. Just thought you should know that.”

  A bark of laughter shook me.

  “I won’t be out of your sight for that long. He’s an old man hooked up to machines. It’s not like he can do anything to me. Plus, I doubt he knows I’ve been on the news, but you would draw more attention. You have to hide, Noah.”

  “I know.”

  That’s all we’ve been doing since leaving Mrs. Mark’s house in Colorado: hiding. We were careful about every store we stopped at for food or gas, and at every place we stopped at to sleep or fuck.

  After speaking to Mrs. Marks, something she said nagged at me. Her remarks combined with Sadie’s a
dmission that she’d written me but the letters were never forwarded, made me want to speak with my old attorney, Lyle Cooper.

  The family allowed me to use their computer to hunt him down, and I discovered that he was living in New Orleans at a retirement home. After calling them, I explained I was an old client who wished to see him before he passed. They welcomed me to come visit after admitting even his family never stopped by.

  It made me feel sorry for him, but I was also worried his condition would prevent him from remembering why he’d blown off what Mrs. Marks had to tell him and why I’d never received those letters.

  There was no way to know without going down there to talk.

  Patting Noah’s cheek, I joked, “Maybe you can hang out on Bourbon Street and watch all the women flash their titties.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “It’s not Mardi Gras, and I’m not interested in any woman’s titties but yours.”

  Leaning down, he bit my left one to drive home that message. I laughed, but then gave in to my exhaustion. “Fine. Let’s get some sleep. We’ll get moving when the sun comes up.”

  . . .

  Louisiana wasn’t too different from Florida. The humidity was thick as a curtain given the time of year, not even the air conditioner in the car enough to cool us down as we drove through patches of cities that broke up the miles of rural areas and wetlands that spread out on either side of us.

  But I didn’t mind it. Instead, I focused on the sun flickering through the leaves of tall trees and the Spanish moss hanging off the branches of stately oaks. It reminded me of when we’d been kids and the hours we spent exploring the forests.

  We arrived at the retirement home a little after one, a smaller place that was tucked away near a conservation area outside of the main cities. I didn’t mind that either because I wasn’t as worried about somebody walking past the car to recognize Noah.

  Pulling into the parking lot, he drove to the far back and stopped the car beneath the shade of a clump of trees. Bird song and the high-pitched screech of cicadas burst out around us, the sound relaxing my shoulders because it had always meant safety to me.

  “I don’t like this,” he grumbled for the thousandth time.

  Turning to him, my mouth twisted at the side. I didn’t like it either, but I had to know.

  “I’ll only be a few minutes. An hour at most.” Joking, I added, “If I’m not out of there after that long, drive away and save yourself.”

  His gaze hardened. “There is no way in hell I’d leave you behind. Even if it means I’d have to kill every person in there.”

  That probably wasn’t the best phrase for him to use given everything that’s happened. “I’ll be fine.”

  Noah reached for the lever to recline his seat before pulling the bill of his hat over his eyes. “One hour.”

  Leaning over him, I lifted the bill to meet his eyes. “Less than that.”

  I pressed a kiss to his mouth and let myself out of the car, my gaze shooting across the parking lot at the small building. Dragging in a breath, I began the walk and tried to ignore the way my clothes stuck to me from the humidity and heat.

  When I opened the door to the facility, a wash of cold air splashed against my skin, and I smiled at a young, brunette receptionist at the desk a few steps inside.

  She glanced up at me and smiled: “Are you here to see someone?”

  “Yes. Lyle Cooper. I called a day or two ago to let you all know I was coming.”

  The poor guy must not have had many visitors because her eyes widened with surprise, the corners of her lips curling up into a bright smile.

  “That’s wonderful,” she exclaimed a little too cheerfully for my liking. From beneath the counter, she pulled out a map and marked the path I should take with a yellow highlighter, and drew an X over his room with such flourish that I felt like I was on a treasure hunt.

  “Room 217. He’ll be so happy to have a visitor.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure about that, but I took the map and smiled anyway, my steps hesitant and nervous as I wove my way through the halls until I was standing outside his door. Another nurse sat at a desk close by. She stared at me for a few seconds before waving me inside.

  With one quick knock, I opened the door and peeked inside to find old Mr. Cooper hooked up to so many tubes and wires that I could barely find his scrawny frame beneath all of them.

  At first I thought he was sleeping, but he opened his eyes and turned his head my way, his shock-white brows pulling together in confusion.

  “Do I know you?”

  Stepping in, I shut the door behind me and steadied myself before approaching his bed.

  “You might remember me. My name’s-“

  Recognition hit him before I could finish the sentence.

  “Ensley Bennett. My God, how long has it been?”

  He waved a hand at chair next to him, the wires and tubes connected to his arm clicking together with the movement. It reminded me of the mess of cables at the back of my father’s rig whenever he’d come to visit.

  “Sit down. Please. What are you doing here? I haven’t thought about you in a long time now. What has it been? Fifteen years?”

  “Twenty-two,” I reminded him while sitting at the edge of the recliner nearby. Not a relaxed position like a person who planned to stay a while, more the type where I could get up and bolt when needed. “Well, twenty-one since the trial ended.”

  “That’s right.”

  Mr. Cooper’s voice wasn’t that strong, but I didn’t expect it would be with the oxygen tube running beneath his nose and the pulse of air and myriad of beeps behind him.

  “Why are you here?”

  To keep my hands busy, I folded the paper, making sure to scrape my nails along each crease. It was a nervous habit, a way to expel the energy inside me.

  “I’m trying to find out who killed my family. I think it’s time I knew the truth.”

  His brows tugged together, confusion lining his pale face. I wondered how well he could see me with eyes that were cloudy and not as sharp as I remembered.

  “Honey, we put that boy away. He has a life sentence. Why are you questioning things now?”

  My lips thinned and pressed together, breath rattling out of me as I tried to keep the memories from taking over.

  “I spoke with Sadie Pickett and Margaret Marks. They told me some things that made me believe there was more to the story of what happened that night.”

  He leaned his head back against the pillow and stared across at me, something unsaid rolling behind his eyes.

  “Maybe it’s best the past is left there, Ensley. You weren’t in the best frame of mind after everything that happened. You were fragile, always so upset. There wasn’t much that could be said to calm you down-“

  “I’m not fragile anymore, Mr. Cooper.”

  My voice snapped over the assurance, my eyes pinning his because I was done being the little fragile girl who couldn’t be trusted to manage her life.

  “I want to know why you didn’t mention that my neighbor saw somebody run from the house that night.”

  He coughed, the sound wet and phlegmy. After finishing that, he reached to grab some water from a tray over his bed, his eyes holding mine while his lips searched for the straw. It was a slow slurp as he drank the liquid down. Moving slow, he set the cup aside and swallowed.

  “We thought it was best that you didn’t have too much information clogging your head. We had to be careful, Ensley, which is why I never sent you those letters from your Father’s mistress. Dr. Daniels was doing a good job keeping you together and walking you forward rather than staying trapped in the past.”

  Dr. Daniels.

  Or Peter as he preferred to be called.

  A man who never let me slip back in time.

  I grinned. “Did you know that Dr. Daniels had sex with me? Before the murders. Did you know how well he was caring for his fragile patient?”

  Spittle flew from his mouth and he cough
ed again, his eyes bulging out to learn the truth. I could have kept that information to myself, but I needed to break the mold in a way, needed to tear apart all the decisions made by my handlers as to what was best for me.

  After sipping more of his water, Mr. Cooper stared at me.

  “No. I didn’t know that.”

  I shrugged.

  “It’s fine. We’ve left that in the past, but I think his attention on me meant I wasn’t as fragile as you thought.” I paused before asking, “What did you know about the person running from my house?”

  He shook his head.

  “Nothing, I’m afraid. Your doctor was handling everything. We let him take the lead on what to ask you and what to tell you. I forwarded those letters to him and said that he should find the right time to hand them over. I’m sorry, Ensley, but if you have questions that need answers, it’s him you’ll need to see.”

  The air leaked out of me. Peter was so damn good at refocusing me forward that I wasn’t sure he would remember much of my past either. But he had files. And he had notes. And maybe, somewhere buried in twenty-two years of therapy, was the clue I needed that would put all the pieces together.

  I’d spent so long shoving the memories away that maybe it was time I let them take over. Even if I ran the risk of being dragged beneath, the pain of it sinking into my lungs to drown me.

  “Thank you,” I said and stood from my seat. “I’ll go see him next.”

  I left the room and hurried out of the facility, unsure of how much more of this I could take.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Noah

  Present

  The car moved and jerked me awake, my eyes cracking open to see dappled sunlight hitting the windshield, a tree branch swaying from a gust of wind heralding a coming storm.

  Sitting up, I lifted my hat to find Ensley sitting next to me, her arms crossed and her eyebrows screwed together in the center. Her lips were pursed in a way that clued me in to how bad the news would be.

  “What did he say?”