Blindfold Vol. 5

by M. S. Parker

  The rest of me sure as hell was.

  Relief went through me in a rush when I heard a familiar voice answer.

  “It's me. I heard you yell. Are you okay?”

  Ash.

  My relief mixed with irritation.

  Now my heart was racing all over again, and my hands felt damp and sweaty. The honest part of me knew that had nothing to do with being irritated and that irritated me even more. But I didn’t care about the honest part of me.

  A sudden rush of longing swept over me, then faded as quickly as it had come. I seized onto the anger before it could go too, because anger was a lot better than the hurt that still echoed inside me.

  For the first time since I’d read those chilling words, I felt warm. A side effect of what I was feeling, I knew. That emotion could warm me better than two cups of coffee, and it also managed to chase away the rest of the fear and clear my head of the last of the cobwebs.

  Still gripping the bat, I dealt with the locks left-handed and wrenched the door open. “I'm fine.”

  Ash’s eyes slid from my face to the bat. “And still mad at me, apparently.”

  Curling my lip at him, I said, “Yeah, well, I don’t plan on getting another assault charge because of you. No man is worth it.” I tossed the bat back into its place. “Especially not you.”

  His mouth tightened.

  “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way back out.”

  “I’m not leaving just yet.”

  Over my shoulder, I shot him a dark look. “Oh, yes. You are. I'll get the bat if I have to.”

  “Toni...”

  Spinning on my heel to glare at him, I shouted, “No! You’re not doing this again! I put up with your mood swings and your bullshit when you were dealing with Isadora’s disappearance, but I’m done! You don’t get to push me away any time you like! I’m tired of dealing with your whiny, bullshit insecurities!”

  Ash stiffened, a flush creeping up his neck.

  I waited, heart racing, my breath locked inside my lungs.

  He’d explode or he’d leave. One or the other, I knew it.

  But...he didn’t.

  “You’re right.”

  “Oh, don’t give me...” I stopped halfway through my rant as my brain processed what I'd heard. “Wait, what?”

  He turned away. “You’re right.”

  Moving to the window, he looked outside. My apartment was up on the second floor and he looked down onto the street, seeing a much different view than he was used to.

  His voice was quiet as he continued, “You should know that Isadora tore me a new asshole last night. Once you were gone, I...I couldn’t sleep. I closed my eyes and I saw you. All I see is you.”

  He turned back to face me and I saw the shadows under his eyes. Waspishly, I glared at him, arms crossed over my chest. “Poor Ash.”

  “Your sympathy warms my heart,” he said dryly.

  I huffed out a breath and pushed my hair back from my face. As I did, his gaze slid down to my chest. In that moment, I was acutely aware of how the tops of my breasts looked pressing against the low-cut top of my chemise, how the pajama bottoms I wore rode low, just below my hip bones. Judging by the look in his eyes, he was just as aware of the exposed skin as I was.

  My arms went over my stomach again. “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly sleep that well myself. If you want real sympathy, find a sycophant. Somebody is bound to give you some real pity.”

  “I deserved the sleepless night.” He took a few steps in my direction, his eyes locking with mine.

  I barely even noticed he had moved until that four feet between us narrowed down two feet, then one, then it was all but gone.

  “I deserve pretty much every cutting insult you have under your belt, Toni.”

  “Is that an invitation?” I gave him a tight smile. My entire body was humming, just from him being so close. I knew I should take a step back, but I couldn't get my legs to obey.

  “Not really.” He reached up, trailing one finger down my cheek.

  The light contact made me shiver.

  “After I say what I came to say, if you want to throw me out, I’ll go. But I need to say this.”

  I struggled to keep the edge to my voice. “I'd rather just throw you out now. I'm not really in the mood to hear anything you have to say.”

  “Toni, please.”

  It shouldn’t have mattered to me. What I’d wanted, needed, none of it had ever mattered that much to him before. Why should what he wanted matter to me now?

  Sometimes, one of you just has to be willing to bend. To compromise. And the one who does it is often the strongest one in the relationship.

  My mother had told me that once, after she and dad had argued over her interviewing for a job. She’d wanted it. Dad hadn’t wanted her to leave the family business.

  I didn't even remember the specifics of it, but when I’d asked her later why she hadn’t just gone after it anyway. I'd been maybe seventeen, eighteen, and the feminist in me had balked at my father's behavior. And then she'd given me that advice.

  I’d taken those words to heart in all aspects of my life, but it was no good if I only did it when it wasn’t that hard.

  Ash and I didn’t have a relationship, but I could still listen to what he had to say.

  Besides, if I were really honest, I’d have to admit I didn’t want to be alone just yet. If I was, I’d have nothing to think about except the note, and I needed a few minutes of not thinking about it.

  All night, I'd thought about calling one of my brothers. I'd thought about going back home, even. Back to the house where I’d grown up with my parents.

  In a way, that house would always be home. But I hadn't let myself do it. I wasn't alone now. As angry and hurt as I was, it was nice to have somebody here, even if it was him.

  “Fine,” I said finally. “Say what you have to say.”

  “Do you mind if I sit?”

  Mind? Out loud, I said, “Sure. Make yourself at home.” I threw open my arms, sarcastic warmth filling my voice. “At least until you say whatever it is you have to say. Then you can get the hell out.”

  The caution in his eyes scraped against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard and I turned on my heel. I needed coffee to deal with this. Alcohol would have been better, but it was too early and I wasn't that desperate. Yet.

  More than a little spiteful, I almost didn’t pour him any, but at the last moment, my mother's upbringing kicked in, and I fixed him a cup as well. After I’d doctored mine with cream and sugar, I carried both back with me into the small space I used for a living room.

  It wasn't much, but it was mine.

  Curling up in my favorite chair, I stared at him over the rim of my mug. “So, what’s this big, important thing you need to talk with me about?”

  His eyes still focused on the coffee I’d given him, he sighed softly. For a few moments, he didn’t speak at all. Finally, he shifted his attention to me, his bottle green eyes seeming even brighter against the dark shadows that lay under them. “I already told you that Isadora gave me a rather strong talking to last night.”

  “Talking to?” I snorted at the phrase.

  To my surprise, he gave me a sad smile. “You can thank my mom for that. She learned it from my grandmother. Gram was...well, not exactly what you would probably expect.”

  He paused and took a sip of coffee.

  When he continued, I had to admit, it surprised me even more. The personal talk wasn't like him.

  “My grandfather met her in Mississippi. It was pretty much love at first sight. She was...” He puffed up his cheeks before blowing out a quick, hard breath. “Let’s just say he surprised everybody, and shocked society when he brought back the beautiful girl from Biloxi, Mississippi. She didn’t give a damn what anybody thought of her, and her favorite thing to do was shock the hell out of everybody.” He smiled, a fond one. “You probably would have liked her.”

  “And you’re telling me this why?” I as
ked levelly. “You don’t do relationships, and me liking her would only matter if you and I were involved. You made it clear last night that all we have – had – was a sexual relationship.” I gave him a hard look. “Please note the past tense.”

  His eyes darted away and a shadow crossed his face. “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Past tenses?” I asked, saccharine dripping from the words.

  He ignored me. “I'm glad Isadora told you about Lily.”

  “Oh, yeah. I could tell. It was so obvious by the sweet way you talked to me.” I stirred my coffee, watching the liquid swirl in my favorite mug.

  “Yeah, one of the other things I’m sorry for.” His voice was soft. “But if I hadn’t done that, then we wouldn't have argued, and Isadora wouldn’t have torn into me. And I wouldn’t have figured some things out.”

  He put his coffee down and rose.

  My heart skipped a beat, then another as he went to his knees in front of me. The look in his eyes was intense, and I felt like he'd cut me open, laid me bare, with that stare alone. I felt more vulnerable and exposed now than I ever had.

  I didn’t like it.

  When he reached out and covered my hand with his, I flinched.

  He didn’t move his hand though, or stop talking.

  “She asked me a question – just a simple one, but I couldn’t answer her. I still can’t.” His thumb rasped across my skin.

  Between the intensity of his voice, his eyes and the rub of his thumb across my inner wrist, my thoughts were in shambles.

  “She asked me what the point was.”

  Confused, I shook my head.

  “She asked if there was a point to anything. To everything. She told me that if I was going to push everybody away, keep everybody out, then what was the point to anything I did?” He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’m alone. The only person in my life is my sister, and we’re growing apart. She doesn’t need me the way she once did. She has Colton, and something tells me she might be looking for a new place, making a home somewhere else for the two of them. Then it'll just be me in that big house. What do I have in my life, Toni? There’s...nothing.”

  Seriously? He came here to whine? “Yeah, I can see how you have so much nothing. You have a giant, beautiful house, and cars that would make my brothers weep. You belong to an exclusive sex club where beautiful women line up to submit to you.” I curled my lip at him. “That’s a whole lot of nothing, all right.”

  But my voice shook. My heart was aching despite myself, while another part of me warned me not to let myself get sucked in again.

  “Things don’t make a person happy, Toni.” He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm.

  Jerking my hand away, I glared at him. “Yeah, I know that. Now you're starting to get it and you're considering trying something else to fill the void? Yay. Goodie for you. Go find a girl who cares.”

  Not one who's already in love with you and tired of hurting.

  I shoved him back and stood, moving into the kitchen to get some space between us. I needed to be away from him. My heart couldn't take it. Tears burned my eyes and I could feel myself coming apart.

  He came in behind me, his steps slow. Not hesitant, but slow, like he was giving me time to move away.

  I wrapped my arms around myself and ducked my head. I wanted him to go, to leave and never come back.

  And my heart broke even more at the thought of never seeing him again.

  “I’m not considering anything, Toni. I’m realizing. I don’t have a life. I have an existence, and it's all I've had for a long time. Maybe since even before my parents died. And I’m tired of it. From the moment I saw you, I felt more alive than I had in years. I want that. I want you.”

  “Want is easy,” I whispered. My voice shook and I squeezed my eyes closed. I could feel it in my chest, the most dangerous thing I could feel.

  Hope.

  I couldn't hope.

  Even though I knew he was close behind me, when he touched my shoulders, I jerked. I spun around, anger and panic sending my heart racing. My eyes were wide, hands shaking. Too much. It was too much. The letter, now him showing up here like this...I couldn't take it.

  Sucking in a breath, I started to babble out some sort of lame excuse to cover up my reaction, but it was too late. His eyes narrowed on my face and whatever else he might've wanted to say vanished.

  “What’s going on?”

  Shit. He didn't need to know any of this. “Nothing.”

  He shook his head. “You're lying. When you answered the door, you looked like you were going to take my head off with that bat. I thought you were just pissed at me, but you didn’t know I was coming. And now that I think about it, you looked more scared than mad. Something’s going on. What is it?”

  I lifted my chin. Hell, no. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

  “Toni.” His voice held a low warning.

  “Ash.” I mocked him as I found my footing again. “Just a reminder, I’m fun and good in bed. That’s it. There’s nothing between us, so it’s not like you have any business demanding to know jackshit about me.”

  Turning away, I crossed my arms across my stomach so Ash wouldn't see them shaking. My gaze fell on the letter. I stared at it, unable to look away.

  And that was where I messed up.

  Because when Ash came around, he saw where I was looking, took one long step forward and picked up the letter. I tried to stop him, but couldn't grab it in time.

  Defeated, I slumped back against the counter and waited.

  I didn't have to wait long.

  His eyes cut to mine seconds later. “When in the hell did you get this?”

  I glared at him, not appreciating his tone. His face softened and he put the letter down. I watched how he did it, gingerly, handling it no more than he needed to, and then he came to me.

  I shoved my hands up to create a barrier between us. “I don’t want you touching me.”

  But my voice wobbled and tears burned my eyes. My hands dropped.

  He took it as an invitation, but I didn't have the strength to protest. “Toni, it’s going to be all right.” He brushed my hair back from my face. The way he said it, it was as if he had no doubt in the world.

  “You can’t know that.”

  “Yes, I can.” His voice was firm, his gaze intense. “Because I’m going to make sure of it. I won’t let anything happen, not to you or your family.”

  I believed him, but when he slid his hand down to cup my face, I pulled back. I wasn’t ready to let him comfort me. Touch me.

  His face spasmed, but he nodded. “I’m sorry, Toni. I’ve been an ass to you, and I’d undo it all if I could. I can’t, and I know that. I’m sorry.” The words all came out in a rush.

  Shivering, I moved over to my chair and sat down. When Ash came over with a blanket, I stared at him, and then slowly nodded. He wrapped it around my shoulders. I wasn't completely freaking out, but I was in shock. I knew the symptoms.

  After tucking the blanket around me, he stroked a hand awkwardly up and down my arm. I closed my eyes and some of the tension drained away.

  Again, he said, “I’m sorry, Toni.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t keep doing this hot and cold thing, Ash.” Tears pricked my eyes, but I fought them. It was a win, but a narrow one.

  “I know.” He paused, and then added, “About that letter...”

  I looked up at him.

  His expression was serious. “We have to go to the FBI.”

  Chapter 3

  Toni

  Marcum’s eyes skimmed the letter for what seemed like the hundredth time even though we hadn’t been in her office more than ten minutes. She wasn't handling it as carefully now that it was in plastic. She wore latex gloves too which, aside from me thinking it was overkill, told me how seriously she was taking things.

  I still felt like shit though. My gut was a mess. It had been since Ash had called her from a c
offee shop near my apartment, telling her we needed to speak with her, but he had reason to think one or both of us were being followed. She’d told us to stay put and somebody would be there to get us.

  Look for the ugliest bastard you ever saw. He’s the one I’m sending after you. He’s going to tell you that he’s in the mood for curry. That’s how you know he’s the right guy. Got that?

  If things hadn't been so serious, I might've laughed.

  Twenty minutes after she disconnected, a big, hulking brute of a guy with strangely long arms, a sloped forehead and a shuffling sort of gait came through the door. He’d ordered coffee, then turned and ambled our way. He had the pale skin of a man who never went outside unless he had to. Then, as he’d gotten closer, I’d seen the scar that bisected his face.

  Yeah. He was pretty damn ugly. But if he was our rescue, he was the best thing I'd ever seen.

  After he’d dropped into the seat across from mine, he glanced around casually. “These coffee places, all the same, you know? You two hungry?”

  Ash glanced over at me.

  I’d been too busy trying not to freak out, being surrounded by so many people, any one of whom could've been the person who'd written the letter.

  The big guy had smiled. “I’m in the mood for some curry. You guys wanna join me?” Then he tipped the coffee cup at us. “After we finish this, of course.”

  When Marcum’s eyes returned to the top of the page to start reading again, I finally lost my patience.

  “For crying out loud, that letter isn’t that complicated.” Shooting to my feet, I repeated it back to her, word for word, and then listed off how many words had been on the document. “Why do you need to keep reading and re-reading?”

  “Because I obviously don’t have a memory like yours,” Marcum said dryly.

  I glared at her.

  “That was kind of impressive,” she said, smiling a little.

  “Thanks,” I snapped. “I take requests. Want to hear the St. Crispin’s Day speech?”

  “I’ll pass.”

  “Too bad. I’m really good at it.” I could feel myself relaxing a bit as we bantered. Which, I now realized, had been her intention.

  Ash’s eyes slid back to me and he cocked his eyebrow. “You know the St. Crispin’s Day speech?”