“How about ice cream? Gotta have ice cream.”
“Yes, vanilla. And whipped cream. What the hell!”
“Now you’re talking.” He squeezed her hand in his. The sun parted the clouds. Hope shined through.
* * *
Jess pulled his new phone from the pocket of his jeans. Bare-chested and barefoot, he traced steps Grace had taken many times before him. He imagined her in the room with him now, sitting on the bed, and waiting for him, the way she had once before. Wanting.
He pictured her the day they made love in the very room he was standing. He relived the moments they held each other, two naked bodies joined as one. His groin ached for her. His heart would ache, too, if it could. His mother stole that part of him long ago. He loved Grace in his own way. Different. Different in that he held what pleased him about her in his head. Loving her crowded out memories of his childhood. It provided a scrim when he looked back and saw all he had endured. He knew when Grace finally came to her senses, they would have a chance to draw the curtain on the past. Forever. Leave the ugly things behind. Life with only her. Only him. No more lover boy. His body trembled. The pulsing sensation in his groin needed attention. He set his phone aside, stripped out of his jeans, and faced the mirror. He rotated slowly, admiring his profile. Just the thought of killing that fucker turns me on.
He reached for his phone and dialed Grace’s office and got a message machine.
“Hello. Uh, yes, this is Darren Sheppard. I’d like to make an appointment with Miss Simms. I can’t seem to shake this overwhelming paranoia. I’d like to hear from y’all soon. I’ve changed my phone number again…”
Jess suppressed a giggle. He needed to figure out a way to get her away from her office. A Billy Ocean tune invaded his thoughts: “Get out of my dreams and into my car.” A slow smile spread across his face. He spun around to face the mirror. His reflection revealed a person so horny he was about to burst. Not yet. He went to the stairway and called to Simone. “Si-mone, darling, can you come up here, please? I could use your help with something.”
* * *
Grace and Paul arrived at the beach house after 11 a.m. Paul fetched Grace’s luggage from the back of his pick-up. Sneaky lumbered out of the back seat and stretched. Paul tossed Grace a set of house keys. “Do you remember the code for the alarm?”
“Oh shoot, I know I wrote it down somewhere. What is it?”
“3214.”
She clipped a leash to the dog’s collar and walked down the drive to the front door. Once the key was inserted, she made a mad dash to the laundry room to de-activate the alarm. She punched in the code, her heart synchronizing to the flashing red light. When the light steadied, she exhaled.
“Got it?”
Grace jumped.
“Sorry,” he said. “I should know better than to come up behind you like that.”
She turned to face him, her eyes brimming with tears. “I promise once we’re married, the crying and the jumping out of my skin will stop. Once Jess is dead, I will be able to live.”
He drew her into his arms and held her tight. “You’ll be safe here. No one knows we’re here, except for Sal, of course. And no one else knows about this house, except my good buddy Skip.”
“Everyone will know once we plan the wedding.”
“My grandmother would be so pleased. She loved this place. I know she would’ve adored you—the way I do.”
“Even with my puffy eyes and scaredy-cat ways?”
He laughed and squeezed her tight. “You have no idea what a huge Garfield fan I am!”
* * *
By now, Simone knew Sheppard well enough to know when he was baiting her. She leaned against the edge of the sink, contemplating the knife gleaming back at her. How many times had she thought about gutting her father? He too, emitted a powerful vibe when he became excited. Simone conjured a blood smell in the air and inhaled. Not blood, sex. She shivered. She knew responding to Sheppard’s call meant sex. He would take her. Hard. Ram himself inside her as he squeezed and bit her flesh. Her body tingled. She pictured her mother’s vacant eyes and heard the whispers coming from her mother’s dark, dank room, “Líbrame de mi tormento, querido Señor. Llévame a casa, padre, te lo ruego, por favor. Release me from my torment, dear Lord. Take me home, Father, I beg you, please.”
Simone called out to the man upstairs, “I’m coming.”
Once Simone responded, Jess pulled the covers aside and bounced into bed, pleased with himself. He lay on his back, watching the fan blades blur overhead. Round and round. Would his relationship with Grace ever revolve smoothly? He closed his eyes and imagined coming home from work, kissing her hello, their children chiming in with glee. Daddy. He mentally choked on the word, and his reverie became distorted. “Call ’im Daddy,” his mother demanded, holding him still while “daddy” spread his little legs and violated him. His eyelids blinked the image from his mind.
When Simone stood in the doorway, he envisioned Grace. However, as Simone drew near, Jess’s vision shattered. Simone bore no resemblance to Grace. Her short spiky hair didn’t hold a candle to Grace’s long, silky curls. Simone’s firm and athletic body didn’t compare to soft, voluptuous curves. Grace’s body, while incredibly fit, was meant to bare children. Daddy. Jess shuddered. He couldn’t escape the visions etched in his mind—Mother flipping him on his stomach, holding him down as she called out to her twisted lover: “Fuck ’im, Harry. Fuck ’im good.” He grabbed Simone’s wrist so hard she flinched. “Lie down,” he said, yanking her onto the bed, his eyes blazing. “Turn over.”
CHAPTER 19
TEMPORARY SITUATION
G race unpacked personal items, arranging them neatly on her side of the master bath. Paul stood in the doorway watching her work. Sneaky sat beside him.
“How about a walk on the beach?” he asked, ruffling the dog’s fur.
“Grab my coat,” she said. “I’m almost finished here.”
Paul opened the hall closet and picked out an insulated jacket. He grabbed a heavy hooded sweatshirt for himself. “All set?” He handed her the jacket.
“Let me check my messages first.”
He rocked back and forth on his heels. “I know. Work comes first.”
“And you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?” she teased.
“Absolutely.” He kissed her forehead and helped her into her jacket. “Meet you out back.” He turned away. Sneaky followed.
Grace reached into her purse, but before she even touched her phone, an odd sensation washed over her. Her head became light, her stomach queasy. Flu? No. Not now. The expanse of the room where she stood suddenly made her feel small. Blood pumped faster through her veins. Stop it! She extracted the phone from her purse to find one missed call. When she heard the Southern drawl reciting the message, she felt somewhat relieved. She dialed Darren Sheppard’s number.
* * *
Jess pinned Simone to the bed, unleashing his animal instincts without any consideration for her satisfaction or well-being. Hurting her excited him, even if she didn’t cry out. Neither did you. But before Mommy’s brave little soldier got his rocks off, he heard his phone ring. He shoved Simone to the side and hopped out of bed.
He grabbed his buzzing phone off the dresser, went into the bathroom, and shut the door. He moved closer to the closet. “Hello?”
“Mr. Sheppard?”
The sound of her voice made him hard all over again.
“Speaking,” he said quietly, infusing his voice with suspicion.
“This is Grace Simms. You called for an appointment?”
“Yes, you didn’t tell anyone, did you?”
“No, Mr. Sheppard, I didn’t tell anyone you called. There is no one here but me. I am not in my office this week.”
“Really? And why is that?”
“Let’s just say I needed a little diversion. I am available for Skype if it’s urgent.”
Jess looked around the room, suppressing an urge to laugh at the iro
ny. “Skype? Are you on vacation?”
“We all need to take breaks now and then, Mr. Sheppard. Is there something I can help you with? You said in your message your paranoia was getting worse. What’s going on?”
“I can’t go into it over the phone,” he said crisply. “And I recall telling you I got rid of my computer!”
“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to help you then, will I?”
“Ma’am, with all due respect, I am a client in need of your services. When do you plan to return?”
“In one week.”
“A week!” Jess wiped his face with his hand. Get a grip! He peeked out the window into the backyard where he had hidden many times in the past. He heard the train whistle blow two short blasts and moved away from the window. He lowered his voice to a civil tone. “I suppose I’ll have to wait.”
“Fine, I’ll pencil you in for 10 a.m., one week from today.”
“I’ll be there.” He snapped his phone shut and faced the mirror. Blood crept up his neck to his cheeks, his chest blotched. Cool it, buddy boy. He splashed his face with cold water. All in good time.
Simone backed away from the door and tip-toed back to bed.
One week? That didn’t give her much time. The bathroom door opened. She pretended to sleep.
“Miss me?” She felt his hand between her legs. His tone sounded dangerous.
“Not one bit. You’d be surprised at all the things I’m capable of doing myself.
* * *
Grace stuck her phone back in her purse and headed for the door leading out to the deck. She wanted to resolve the niggling in the back of her mind. What was bothering her? She recapped her conversation with Darren Sheppard a second time. A typical response to her unavailability? Yes. It wasn’t uncommon for clients to have difficulty seeing beyond themselves. Some were known to display childlike behavior and throw tantrums when things didn’t go their way. Darren Sheppard’s anger surfaced right away. Red flag? No, it’s not that. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It’ll come; let it go.
She walked out into a brisk sea breeze that whipped her hair across her face and plastered her jacket against her back. She heard Paul call in the distance. She tied her hair in a loose knot behind her neck, clearing her vision. Paul threw a stick to Sneaky and at that moment Grace realized how much she missed seeing them play together. Carefree. She sorely needed time away with them both. Sneaky’s grin made her laugh, and she hurried down the stairs to join the fun. Sheppard, Sheppard…strange! Let it go.
Sandy grit blew in their faces; waves crashed violently against the shore, and seagulls cried overhead. Paul took her hand as they walked. The day was perfect.
* * *
Simone opened a can of tuna, dumped it in a bowl, and then seasoned it with salt and pepper. She sat cross-legged in front of the TV, dressed in soft-fleece sweats. She wished her father could see her now, living a life of luxury and eating tuna from a crystal bowl at three o’clock in the afternoon. Soon, Darren would wake from his siesta, and she would be back on her guard. His moods were getting increasingly worse. The woman firing up his blood needed to go. Simone didn’t care how beautiful she was or how much Darren Sheppard loved her. They didn’t belong together. She wasn’t a killer.
* * *
Sal stared at her dinner. She willed her peas into a formation, but they didn’t budge. She poked one with her fork. When the pea smashed on her plate, she poked another…and another.
John set his fork down. “Sal, babe, you’re killing your peas. What’s wrong?”
“Not much of an appetite, I guess.”
“Want something else? I can fix you whatever you want. Name it. They don’t call me Chef Boyardee for nothin’, ya know.”
“I think of you more like Prince Charming.”
“C’mon, now. You know how bad I look in tights. Except for the package. I do the package really good.”
“Yep. Best package on the planet.” Sal demolished another pea.
“What is it? Did I say something wrong?”
“No, John, you say all the right things. This meal is exquisite. You’ve become a better cook than I ever was.”
“Then what is it, hon? You’ve got mascara running down your face. That’s not an okay sign by me.”
“I think I’m going to vomit. Excuse me.” Sal pushed herself away from the table and hurried into the bathroom.
John followed her down the hall. He grabbed a clean towel from the linen closet and ran it under the tub faucet. He squeezed the excess water, folded the towel in thirds, and placed it on the back of Sal’s neck. Her face hovered over the toilet bowl. When Sal began to weep, John slid down to the floor and held her close.
“We’ll get through this, baby. Or I swear, as God is my witness, he’ll have to take us both.”
“Who’s gonna take care of the kids?” she asked between sobs.
“See, that’s why you have to get better. Buns would never forgive either one of us if we deprived him of all the shenanigans he has in store for us. And before you know it, we’ll have grandchildren to spoil.”
“Why do you always have to lay that guilt trip on me? You know I want to be around forever. Sometimes we don’t get what we want.”
“This isn’t going to be one of those times, Sal. I won’t let you give up.”
“Fine. Can you let me throw up in peace and quiet?”
“Whatever you say, baby. I’ll take care of the dishes. Vomit away.”
“Thanks, John. I love you so much. And don’t think I don’t appreciate you playin’ wet nurse. You’re my guy, always and forever.”
“Good, we have an understanding then?”
“Sure. Give it a week. That shit they gave me should do some good by then.”
“Speakin’ of good shit—”
“No, I don’t want weed in this house. Buns would smell it, and I don’t care how medicinal it may be. It’s not the kind of example I want to set for our son.”
“Have it your way. I just thought it would help with the nausea.”
“I’ll be better. Shut the door on your way out, will you?”
“Holler if you need me.” John closed the door, but not all the way. His stomach twisted in a knot. A thousand hornets stung his heart. He was being honest when he said if she died, he’d die with her. He loved her that much.
Grace popped into his head. Why hadn’t she called or come over? He vowed to call and give her hell. Sal needed her. He needed her. He hated feeling so helpless.
Sal rid herself of two bites of pork chop. Next came the piece of dry toast she managed to get down earlier. Nutritional substitutes seemed to be the only thing that agreed with her. She had cravings for odd things like ice chips and spicy food, but nothing settled in her stomach. She felt weak. I’m tired.
Too tired to fight today? The annoying voice in her head questioned? Yes. Tomorrow? Maybe.
She flushed the toilet and laid her cheek on the cool porcelain tub. Her head began to spin. She leaned over and began to dry heave. After the third bout, she wanted to scream. Too weak.
* * *
Grace reveled in the seclusion. The beach stretched for miles. Water touched the edge of the earth. Not a soul in sight, except for Paul. “Did you spend a lot of time here?”
“Every chance I could.”
“Were you close to your grandmother?”
“Not always. Coming from the lot I did and my parents being the black sheep because of their free-thinking nature, I wasn’t invited as often as I would’ve liked. But once they were gone and I was older, my gran and I had grown-up conversations. We grew closer. When I was a boy, she taught me things.”
“Like what?”
“French. Piano. She shared her love for all living things. Her dogs were her life. Unfortunately, they preceded her. Losing grandfather, then the dogs—well, I think it was too much for her to bear.
“I’m sorry.”
Paul drew Grace closer. “It happens. We all have to go sometime
.”
“I can’t bear to think of what life will be without Sal.”
“Don’t give up. She’s a tough bird.”
“I haven’t called her. I should.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“I know when I speak to her I won’t be able to say the words she needs to hear.”
“Like what? Tell me.”
“I would tell her I don’t want her to die. How’s that for a guilt trip?”
“You of all people know that’s not your intention.” Paul stopped and lifted her chin. As he gazed into her eyes, he saw them fill with sadness. “It’s okay to want. No one can blame you for wanting her here. John, the boys, even me. Sal’s an incredible woman, a phenomenal friend, wife, and mother. No one wants her to die. But we don’t get a say, chér.”
“I know. That’s what hurts so much. If we did, life would be different.” Grace blamed the wind for her watery eyes. The chill in the air made the run-off sting her face. “It’s not fair. The good die, and the evil ones like Jess walk the earth. Where’s the justice in that?”
“We’re limited. Bound by our human design.” Paul wiped salty streaks from Grace’s cheeks with his thumbs. He crouched down until his eyes met hers, and their lips were almost touching. “In my next life, I’ll come back as a superhero and clean up the place.” He kissed her mouth. She responded, holding him tight.
“Don’t ever leave me,” she said, her breath warm in his ear.
“Fat chance.” He swept her into his arms and twirled her around. Her shrieks and Sneaky’s barking were carried away by the wind and the sea.
* * *
Sal wrapped herself in a blanket and crawled next to John on the sofa. “Buns is at his buddy’s house. He should be home soon.” John grunted his confirming response and wrapped both arms around her frail body.
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