That’s why I knew that Eddie was totally off about Arthur. He was an attractive man and popular professor and there’d been rumours about affairs with students but they were total bullshit. He could have taken advantage of me but he hadn’t. Instead, he used it as a teachable catalyst.
“It’s a Winchester 1887 lever action. Just got it.” His blue eyes sparkled as he looked from me to his new treasure. “Haven’t tried it yet. You been out shooting?”
“Every week lately.” I smiled. Like I’d said, it was Arthur who’d turned me and Kassey on to trap shooting as a way to get the aggression out. We’d even shot at a few tournaments together. Stress relief. Every therapist needed it after listening to clients bitch about their lives. Shooting was a kind of therapy. It had worked…for a while.
He motioned for me to take my usual spot in the plush wingback I loved. I ran my fingers over the embroidered edges where wood met cushion, pressing into the fabric. It felt like home. I sighed. It all felt like home. “It’s good to be back.”
Arthur patted my knee as he took a seat across from me. “You still on leave?”
“Yes, no plans on returning.”
Arthur frowned, his eyes boring into me. “You need to get back on the horse, sweetie. Can’t let what happened stop you from helping people.”
I snorted. “I wasn’t helping anyone.”
“Jade—”
“I’m not being dramatic. I was giving therapy to convicted rapists, men who had no desire to change, no ability to get better.”
“Rehabilitation is a tough road. You were making a difference, though; don’t fool yourself into thinking you weren’t. I’m not trying to minimize what happened to you, to Kassey, but you can’t let it stop you from living, from continuing to do good work.”
“Arthur, I am responsible for what happened to Kassey. If I hadn’t…” I waved my words away. “There is no better way to prove to me that rehabilitation doesn’t work.”
“Your research—”
“Was pointing in the same direction. Rehabilitation doesn’t work. My research is dead and my days of giving therapy are over. I was wasting my time and I’ve got the scars to prove it.”
So did Kassey. Deep, dangerous scars.
A heavy silence curled around us. Arthur assessing me, his sharp eyes digging, digging, always digging.
“You stopped coming to our sessions.”
“I didn’t need you to tell me that what happened fucked me up.”
“You’re hostile. Not a good time to talk about this stuff.” Arthur steepled his fingers, bringing them to touch his lips in a contemplative way.
“No.” I sighed. “I’m sorry, Arthur, I just can’t talk about this right now.” Not can’t. Won’t. “I’m doing okay. You said it yourself—I look healthy.”
Arthur nodded slowly, crossing his arms as he did. I knew that look too.
“I’m coping.”
“How?” He lowered his arms and leaned forward.
I squirmed. “Shooting.” Not a lie.
He held my gaze for a few heartbeats. Assessing. Weighing how much to push. Always the therapist.
“This isn’t why I came. I’ve been speaking with Eddie Bronson.”
Arthur’s eyes snapped away from me. “The detective?”
“He’s investigating the murder of Candace Bryne.”
“I know.” Arthur looked at me again, his face full of sorrow. “She was such a vibrant girl. Lots of potential for great things. A brilliant career ahead.”
“He wants to speak with you.” It was my turn to lean forward and nail him with the look. “He’s trying to eliminate you from the suspect list.”
“That man has no clue what he’s doing.” Arthur scoffed. “An imbecile, not worth my time.”
“He said that he made a mistake when he pulled you in for questioning over the murder of the other student, Alexis. He’s trying to clear you without all the noise this time.”
“He’s fumbling around in the dark. You know his type. Shoot first, ask questions later.” Arthur clenched his fist and thumped the arm of his chair. “He nearly cost me my tenure the last time. The media were like hounds.”
“I’m sorry, Arthur, I had no idea what was going on here.” And I did feel bad, like I’d abandoned him for my own issues. I could have reached out instead of pushing away. When he’d attempted to contact me after Kassey’s attack, and again after she’d woken up from her coma with debilitating injuries, I’d assumed that he was trying to save me, just like everyone else. I hadn’t realized he might actually have needed me. “I should have picked up the phone at least.”
He waved me off with a frown. “Don’t be silly, Jade. There was nothing you could have done to stop that train wreck. You were dealing with tremendous issues of your own. I wanted to be there for you. That’s why I backed away when everything was going on. I didn’t want to bring you into the mess here.” He shook his head. “You needed to lick your wounds, I understand that. You’re a strong woman I knew you’d come back to me eventually.” He snorted. “Besides, Steve was here making sure the bulldogs kept back. It died down once Mr. Super Detective sorted his shit out and cleared me from his list.”
“I should have been here too.” I lowered my head, ashamed. I hadn’t needed to lick my wounds. Not for as long as I let people believe. I’d needed isolation so that I could cultivate my plans for revenge and I knew that no interference, no interaction from my past life could happen if I wanted to achieve my goals.
“Jade, smarten up.” His tone was hard and I snapped my eyes up to meet his. “No self pity in this room, remember?” He levelled his fatherly stare at me.
I nodded.
“I’m not meeting with that man.” He blurted with a hard shake of his head. “Not after what he did the last time. And I certainly don’t want you to play retriever for him.”
Fuck. I was failing in my sole purpose to keep Arthur out of the fire. “Fine, I can understand what you’re saying. You don’t want me involved. But Detective Bronson came to speak with me, asked me to liaise a meeting between you two.”
“Are you sleeping with him?”
I snapped back as if slapped. “No!” What a fucking odd question.
“Why is he sending you here then? You’re doing him a favour? Why? That’s not your style, Jade. Men like Detective Bronson, they aren’t worth the effort. Not unless you owe him something.”
He was right of course. Eddie was not my usual type. That’s why he’d been a mistake in the first place. Arthur knew me well, too well. It was the reason I hadn’t been to see him since the attack, since my coping mechanism had taken full form. Any probing would lead him right to my secret and he’d try to put a stop to it for sure. I didn’t want that.
“He wanted me to help him on the case, asked me for my opinion on what happened. He’s stumped. No idea what direction to go. You know how these cases can roll out—they’ll hit on whatever suspects they can. I’m concerned about you, your reputation, the possibility of charges getting thrown and sticking for the wrong reasons. I wasn’t here the last time but I will be now and I do think it’s even more important that you speak with him. You said it—imbeciles like Bronson will do whatever to end a case, to place blame. He said you texted Candace the night she died. He wants to ask some questions. I can be here when he does if you want. I’m here, for you, until it all gets sorted.”
Arthur sucked in a deep breath then let it out. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Of course not.”
“I don’t like conceding to men like Bronson. He’s a bully, an ego case. Persistent little fuck with a sneaky agenda.”
“Yeah, he knows how to worm his way past the defences, that’s for sure.” I chuckled uncomfortably, catching myself before saying too much. Arthur didn’t need to know about my connection to Eddie.
Arthur eyed me, suspecting for sure that there was more to my story.
“Please, Arthur, it’s important.”
“If I do th
is then you will owe me something.”
I sucked my bottom lip in, nodded slowly. Arthur liked his strings. What I would owe him would be for my own good in some way. Resuming therapy was almost a certainty. Possibly even doing some research for him, get involved with academic life once again. Forcing me to be social was crappy really, considering that I was only trying to protect him.
“Whatever it takes to clear your name,” I said with a tight smile.
Arthur nodded, patted my leg and grinned. “Let’s go find Steve and our coffees, then you can fill me in on how life is going.”
7
Steve had left the coffees just outside the door. It was weird. Had he been listening to the conversation or simply hadn’t wanted to interrupt? They were still warm enough that they hadn’t been sitting for long so I chalked it up to one of his temper tantrums and nothing more.
“I’ll be back with Detective Bronson tomorrow morning,” I said as I gave Arthur a hug.
“You won’t stay for a little bit longer? We can spice up the coffees with some bourbon, catch up a little more.”
That last thing I wanted to do was drink and catch up. Knowing Arthur as I did, I’d be spilling my secrets to him in no time.
“I’ve got to get going, things to get done and all that.” I smiled and waved my coffee. “I’ll take this to go and rain check you for the booze infusion.”
Arthur looked dejected. It was another ruse. He played the lonely man well.
“I can’t talk about it yet, okay? Not yet.”
With a sigh, Arthur nodded. “Rain check for both then.” He pulled me into another brief hug. “I miss ya, girl.”
“Me too, old man.”
“So, you’re giving it all up, huh?” Steve’s voice drifted to me as I walked down the hall.
I paused at the doorway and glanced in. Steve sat at a metal desk, papers strewn all over the place. I leaned back, checked the name on the door. Steve Caul, Assistant Professor. With every door looking the same in a hall, I hadn’t noticed any difference until he’d called out to me.
“So you’re one of the minions now? Nice office.” I couldn’t help the snark. He and I both knew the shitty, cramped little hole was not up to the standards he was used to. Steve would be gunning for an office space like Arthur’s. He’d have to displace Arthur for that though. And Steve was not Department Chair material.
Steve waved his hands around. “It is what it is. Rung on the ladder.”
I cocked an eyebrow. Like he needed a job. Trust fund babies typically didn’t have to wait for any opportunity that they didn’t really want. It surprised me that he had the patience for it and was willing to slog through the student papers and bullshit meetings in order to achieve whatever his career aspirations were. It was intriguing and that was very dangerous territory where Steve was concerned. “Thanks for the coffee.” I wasn’t interested in pursuing the conversation, talking in any depth with Steve never ended well. I turned to leave.
“Jade, wait.”
I ignored him, continued on my way. Hadn’t made it two steps before his hand was on my arm, tugging me back.
I growled quietly and snapped my head to look at him. “Hands off, asshole.”
He smirked, didn’t lift his hand. “You’ve gotten so coarse.” He leaned closer. “I like it.”
I thought about throwing my coffee in his face. It was still warm enough that it would hurt a bit. Maybe sting his eyes at least. “I’ve got a gun in my purse and I know how to use it.” He didn’t have to know it was a stun gun.
His smile grew and he winked. “Oh, I bet you do.”
“I don’t want you.” I didn’t want him but my fucking traitor body did. Even though I found him emotionally repellent, our physical magnetism was hard to control at times, which was why I’d avoided him after the breakup. In those moments of weakness, when I missed him so terribly, we’d always come together with intense passion and violent release. And I’d always regretted it. Always. But like most addictions, the high I got from moments like this was too strong to walk away from.
He licked his lips, his eyes stripping me from head to toe, lust perpetually shining there. “You know that’s a lie.”
“What do you want?” I turned toward him, loosening his hold on my arm and taking him by surprise when I pushed my body up against his. I had power over this. No emotion. No vulnerabilities. I was always in control now.
“You know what I want.” His breath washed over me, mint, sweet—another thing to make my mouth water. “I want you back. I’ll always want you back.”
Those were the words, the ones I’d craved back in the day. I shuddered, understanding the trap, analyzing, discarding. He was a pusher and he knew exactly what my drug of choice was but he had no power over me anymore. Nothing happened unless I wanted it to and my heart was off limits to any man, my defences so strong even I didn’t have access. I speared him with a look so hard I swear he flinched. “Fuck you.”
He crushed his lips onto mine, stealing the venom in my words. I didn’t tell him to stop. I didn’t want to. I would take what he was giving and then I would walk away. Fuck him and his mind games. This time I was the player.
I dropped my coffee, felt it spray against my pant leg. Steve chuckled when I tangled my fingers into his hair and tugged roughly, stroking his tongue with mine, biting his bottom lip when I pulled away.
“This doesn’t mean shit.” Words slipped out of my mouth without warning. Were they meant for me or for him?
He looked down at me, grinning in his wicked way. “As you wish, sweetie.” With hands on my waist, he yanked me into the office before slamming the door shut with a thud. Then his lips were on mine again, eating me up, making me moan.
He pushed me up to the wall, banging my head hard against the wood panelling. I moaned again as the pain mingled with the pleasure. Heat, so much heat. Passion where there shouldn’t be. My pussy was soaking, throbbing to the beat of my pounding skull.
He slipped his hand under my T-shirt and pushed my cotton bra up over my tits. “You’ve lost some weight.” He squeezed a handful, still plenty to fill his palm. He lifted my shirt higher, lowered his head so he could suck on my nipple, and then bit as he tried to swallow me whole. Tongue stroking, flicking, inhaling my flesh as much as he could.
I gripped his head, pulled his hair until he released my breast with a yelp.
“Fuck you, Steve,” I growled.
He smirked, reached up and gripped my throat, tight at first, and then stroking almost tenderly with his thumb. “I will fuck you. Your body belongs to me.”
He spun me so fast I was dizzy, pushing me forward. I hit the side of the desk, off kilter, and threw my hands out to brace myself. He was behind me, fingers on my jeans, unbuttoning me, pants to my ankles, panties shoved aside. My legs were trapped, unable to spread as wide as I’d have liked. But the restriction was good too. I wiggled my ass, then I looked over my shoulder to see him palming his cock, hard, jutting, weeping pre-cum. I licked my lips.
“Later, baby. You can suck my dick later.”
He rubbed his cock against my ass, making me tense up. It could go either way at this point. He knew what I liked, what I wanted, but that didn’t mean he’d give it to me.
With a groan, he reached forward and cupped my breast, then slipped his cock into my pussy, jamming me hard so I rocked against the desk on a whoosh of breath.
“You feel so damn good, baby.” He ground against me slowly, moved his other hand to my breast so that he was clenching both tightly, breathing hard against my back. “I missed your little titties, your tight cunt. Your pretty moans.”
I shut him out. This was his way of cooing love. Dirty whispers that had made me fall for him when I hadn’t known any better. He spoke to my fucked up little soul. He was fucked up too, just in a different way. Steve would understand my need for power. He’d probably hunt with me if I’d asked him to and then he’d fuck me while I held a gun on a rapist.
I shivered,
my pussy clenching tight. That was a dangerous fantasy.
“Don’t stop. Don’t stop,” I moaned, then bit my lip to keep more words from falling out.
If he was in a playful mood, he would have. He’d have stopped dead and made me beg him to fuck me again. But not this time. He needed it as much as I did.
“Steve,” I moaned his name on a long sigh, my climax there, building as he stroked me. “Steve.”
My orgasm hit like a train, slamming me with metal, and grit, and dirt. His cum spewed, filling me up, making me drip when he suddenly pulled out too soon. He could have ridden me longer. The stark reminder crashed into me. Steve liked to withdraw, emotionally, physically. He liked to shut me out, to torture me. Toxic. Painful.
“Forgot to wear a condom.” His tone was terse. “You should have reminded me. I hope you’re clean.”
8
There were no lingering effects from the romp with Steve the day before. My body felt worn, fucked, and satiated. My heart was safe. I’d passed another dangerous test of my own making. My walls were impenetrable and I felt triumphant. I felt powerful. I wanted to roar but instead I sipped my coffee with a smirky kind of grin as I waited for Eddie to meet me on campus.
I was seated on a bench, under a grove of trees. An easy landmark that Eddie would know, just outside of the Psych building. Scanning the campus buildings gave me a sense of peace, longing. The University of Toronto had been like a second home to me for a good portion of my adult life. This particular campus, Perkins Court, was in the city’s east end, nestled on acres of land that had been donated by the Perkins family centuries ago. It didn’t feel like it existed in a bustling metropolis, and in a way it didn’t. It was removed enough from city center that most considered it to be a separate town of its own.
Burning Kiss Page 5
