by Karin, Anya
"That you, Alyssa? Oh thank God." He stumbled through the dark across the room and cut the gag in Lys's mouth with his pocketknife.
As soon as she could, Alyssa took a deep breath and fell forward with her head on Peter's chest.
"It's alright, keep calm. Let's get you out of here before we end up in an even worse spot. I think I can break this chain if I try." He fished a pair of pliers out of his back pocket and went to work twisting the chain back and forth until he managed, with a loud grunt, to snap it in two.
"Alright, you'll have to wear the bracelets, but at least you can move 'em. Come on; let's get the hell out of here."
"Thank you so much. Thank you thank you thank you thank you," Alyssa said, throwing her arms around the big man's thick shoulders. He stroked her back.
"It's fine, don't worry. We'll be fine. Preston's looking too, and then he'll come find us." He chose not to say what it was, exactly, that Preston was looking for, though. "Come on." Peter took one of Alyssa's tingling hands gently in his and tugged her toward the door.
"Will you look at that," he said. "All those monitors. He can watch the whole place from down here. Who the hell knew that old weasel had such a thing?"
"Such hurtful words."
"Gadsen," Peter growled. "How did you know?"
"I had my suspicions when I went to come down stairs and the stairs were sticking up at a forty-five degree angle. Usually little boys learn to close doors that they open, hmm?"
Alyssa tugged the big man's hand and moved her head in Gadsen's direction.
"What the hell are you doing with that thing?" Peter said.
"Oh, this?" Gadsen raised his fist and with it, a revolver, that he leveled first at Peter, then Alyssa. "I didn't want things to go this far. Really, I didn't. But I had a feeling that either you or Preston would cause a problem. Put a hitch in my plans." He let his hand drop back to his side.
"Put it down, Gads. There's no need to point guns at people, most of all her. She didn't do anything."
"You're right! She didn't do anything at all. Just bad luck." He waved the pistol around his head in a circle. "Bad luck has that effect. Do you want to talk about bad luck? Huh? You want to?"
"Gadsen," Peter raised his hands, palms forward. "Please, Gadsen, put that thing down and we'll talk."
"No. I'll talk, and you'll listen."
"Okay, okay, fine. Please put down the gun. If you fire it on accident, it'll-"
"Ricochet? I imagine you're right! But no thank you, I'll not be putting the gun down. Not now anyway."
Peter sighed and moved himself between the butler and Alyssa very slowly.
"Alright," he said. "Fine. What happened, Gadsen? What brought all this on? Three weeks ago you were your old self, a little cranky and what-not, but-"
"Shut up! You have no idea what you're talking about. None! This started forty years ago. You might have been too blind to see it, but Marissa and I were in love. She never stopped loving me, not once. It was all his fault." The venom dripping off of Gadsen's tongue was almost palpable as he spat out the words. "If it weren't for him, and his damned easy grin and bright smile, it would have been she and I together, running this empire."
"Uh, Gadsen, I think you're remembering things a little crooked ways."
"Shut up!"
"Okay, okay," Peter said. "But remember, Preston hired you to work here when he went off with the army. You never would have met her without him. And I don't know what you mean about running the business, but that was mostly her."
"Shut up!" He pointed the gun at Peter, holding his arm so stiff it shook.
Alyssa tucked herself behind the big man and quailed when he Gadsen shouted again, something almost incomprehensible about Marissa and the business.
"You don't know anything! If it weren't for me, this place would have burned to the ground at about eight points during the sixteen years the sainted Preston Webb Sr. was absent."
Movement in one of the monitors grabbed Alyssa's attention. A bare-footed man in black stepped briefly through the gaze of one of the cameras and then vanished again before moving in front of another one. Gadsen was ranting and raving so wildly that she figured he wasn't in much of a state to pay attention to her eyes. She followed the tall, slender man with the silk wrapped around his face.
It was only a matter of time. As long as Peter kept the butler from doing anything drastic, it was only a matter of time.
He moved from the third floor landing to the second. Slowly, he crept from one room to another, poking his head in and then moving to the next. She wanted to scream, to call out to him, she wanted to charge the man with the gun and do something to escape. When he felt her move behind him though, Peter reached back and steadied her.
"I did run this place! For almost twenty years, I made the decisions that built this company and made this house. I put together the board, I hired the labor and I built the derricks on this field."
"Alright, Gadsen, alright," Peter said in a soft voice. "Everyone knows you went through a lot for the Webbs. Hell, no one knows it better than me because I was here the whole time."
"Is that so? Is that really true? If it is, then why does it all go to him? Why does the whole thing go to a child who's never done anything useful in his life? Why not me? Old Gadsen just goes out with the trash, is that it? I knew this was going to happen thirty years ago. Thirty two! I knew it! That's why..."
"Why what, Gadsen?"
"Shut up!" Again he leveled the gun at Peter's chest.
Preston moved from the east end of the second floor to the west, peeking slowly in each door. From the cameras, Alyssa was able to watch his face as he studied all of the invariably empty spaces. When he went to the room where she was kept, his gaze softened. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, not without you. Come down here and get me and take me away and I'll be yours forever.
He pursed his lips and then turned away, toward the stairs.
"Why what, Gadsen? You're not making any sense. I'm trying to follow you."
Alyssa tugged on Peter's hand, and he squeezed hers back. As though to say it's fine, everything is under control.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Yet again, the butler's arm relaxed to his side, and the gun with it. "You've got your suspicions, don't you? Preston always did. Preston always knew what I did, I think, but he never said anything. Kept his mouth shut. About everything."
Peter's shoulders tensed. "What are you talking about, Gadsen? You keep saying things that don't make any sense. Calm down and talk me through it."
Preston turned at Gadsen's latest ranting, and crept slowly down the stairwell before disappearing between the cameras. Oh God don't rush in here. Don't rush in here. Be careful, please, please, please be careful.
"Gadsen, answer me. What are you talking about? What did you do?"
"You know what I did! Everyone knows what I did, or at least suspects!"
"No, I really don't think so. I have no idea what you're talking about."
A second shadow slid inside the room, but Gadsen was so caught up in waving his pistol around that he didn't notice. Peter squeezed Alyssa's hand, and she held her breath so tight in her chest that her lungs burned.
"He killed my mother. He killed my mother, and tried to kill me. He figured that if we were dead, dad would give him the company."
Preston moved quickly, right up behind the old man and went for his gun. Gadsen spun and stuck it right in Preston's stomach.
"See? He knows!"
"You can't be serious, Preston," Peter said. "That's crazy. He's been here forever. Your dad trusted him. Why would-"
"Jealousy, maybe. Greed? Who knows why people do things." Preston grimaced at the gun barrel driving into his stomach and clenched his fists. "Isn't that right? You killed my mom to get some money? Some oil?"
"I could murder you were you stand," Gadsen growled, and cocked the revolver.
"Yeah, but you won't. You don't have the spine. You only poison people. Isn't that right? Ju
st that you didn't mix it quite strong enough to kill me, too."
"That's insane. Gadsen – tell me this isn't true. Tell me you just went off your rocker a couple weeks ago and that's that."
"DDT was supposed to be strong enough to kill the both of you."
"All it did to me was these," he lifted one of his sleeves and revealed a network of scars. "And this," he said, running his finger along the one running across his face, under the silk."
"I should have paid more attention."
"Put down the gun. You don't want this, Gadsen. You shoot me, and those two are gonna jump on you. You shoot at them, and I'll do it. You've got no place to go. Give it up."
Peter tensed, locking his hand tighter around Alyssa's wrist and urging her down to the ground.
"Not a chance," the old man said. "I'll finish what I started. One way or another."
In a half an instant, Preston spun away from him and whipped a fist into the back of Gadsen's head, right at the neck. He dropped, first to his knees, and then flailed backwards, hands outstretched.
The gun hit the floor with a thud.
Alyssa covered her ears, Peter shoved her to the floor.
Preston dove for the gun.
It fired, filling the room with a flash of light and deafening sound.
Alyssa hit the floor. She felt a hard pain in her side.
The last thing she remembered was Preston shouting 'no' and scrabbling across the floor after her.
And then nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Four
When she opened her eyes, the room was still dark, but Alyssa realized she wasn't on the floor anymore, she wasn't cuffed to a pipe, and she wasn't shaking. Instead, she was wrapped up in a blanket that might well have been the softest thing she'd ever felt on her bare skin.
Bare skin? What is...?
"You were pretty beat up." Preston's voice from the corner of the room, shrouded of course in darkness, caressed Lys's ears. God it was good to hear that velvet whisper. "I checked you over to make sure nothing was broken. And then I thought you might like to not be covered in muddy clothes. I thought about washing you off, but I didn't want to come across as over eager."
His soft laugh floated to Lys's ears.
God it was good to hear that laugh.
"No, no, of course not," she said, smiling through the pain that gripped the left side of her head. "Where did he hit me?" Looking for a bullet wound, or a big wad of gauze, she pushed herself gently off the mattress.
"Right here," Preston stood and walked toward the bed, then bent and kissed, ever so gently, the sore place below Lys's left temple. "And here," he kissed lower on her jaw, in front of her ear.
"Oh did he?" She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close and refusing to let go, even for a second. He held her tight, kissed her again, unwrapped himself from her, and stood up facing the window. His wavy black hair gently moved in the wind, just slightly too short to reach the collar of his ever present black button-down.
She knew his shape, but to see him framed by the sun, his wide shoulders, tapering to his trim waist sent a thrill down Alyssa's back. His tailored slacks hugged slender, muscular legs. And oddly, he was barefoot.
"You're real, aren't you? You're really, really here? I'm not just dreaming? I keep thinking all this is just some kind of insane fantasy, and I'm gonna wake up with food poisoning."
At that, he laughed, loud. It was the same laugh she remembered from when he and she met, what seemed like an eternity before.
"Did you find it? What you were looking for?"
"You did," he glanced over at an open briefcase on the table.
"Those scrapbooks? With the war letters?"
He nodded. "You didn't read far enough through them. Or maybe you did, and just didn't catch the hints. My old man got more and more worried about Gadsen being around my mom all the time, and then right around the time she died, there was some back-and-forth about what it was, exactly, that killed her. Anyway, the questions went unanswered. No one ever did an autopsy. And that was that, pretty much. But between the letters, and the old man's confessions, he's not going to be bothering anyone for a long time."
"Is he...?"
"Dead? No. After the gun went off, the kitchen staff ran in and took care of you. He's off at the county lockup now. Turns out, waving guns around and threatening to kill people is worse than stealing mushrooms." His smile right then could have struck her dead.
That's when she realized where she was.
The broken window, the two rose vases, and her torn open letter on the table gave it away. Then she turned her attention back to Preston Webb.
"You're... I'm not blindfolded."
"Baby steps," he said. As he turned, she saw he had a length of silk wrapped around the part of his face that caused him so much shame.
She took a breath, not expecting to see even that little bit of him. His full, red lips, drawn into a bowed smile, took her attention first, and then she fixed on his uncovered eye – a blue so deep that it could have been a sapphire. The stubble that she'd felt before when he had kissed her smoothly lined his tight sculpted jaw.
"Good Lord but you're gorgeous," she said with her mouth half open in surprise. "I was perfectly happy when you were just a sweet voice and a shadow, but now... Just...are you really sure I'm not dreaming?"
A deep crimson flushed up Preston's neck and covered his revealed cheek. His ruby lips quirked into a half-grin.
"Pretty sure." He sat beside her and ran his fingers through her hair. A little tangle caught and Alyssa let out a little yelp.
"Sorry about that," he said.
"Not a problem," her eyes got heavy, she closed them part way, leaving them open just a little. "I'm afraid if I close my eyes, you'll go away."
Two fingertips, so soft, so delicate, brushed Alyssa's face, closing her eyes.
"Still here," he said as his lips touched hers, first with the slick silk in the way, and then it pushed aside. "Right?"
"Yes you are. Oh my God, yes you are."
Lys wrapped her arms around Preston's wide, strong shoulders, and felt the muscles flex and relax underneath his shirt with every movement he made.
"You're so warm," she whispered into his ear. "How can this be real?"
"I ask myself that a lot." Preston's lips brushed against Alyssa's throat, then down her jaw, then behind her ear. "I think the answer is 'because it is supposed to be'."
"I like that."
He kissed her again back in the soft place behind the ear. Her voice quailed with pleasure, and then Preston's hand, just as warm as his body, slid down between her breasts, and rested on her belly. Ever so softly, he curled his fingers against her skin, kissed her earlobe, and then took a moment to just breathe.
Without thinking about it, she turned to him and put a hand on the side of his face, against the silk around the top of his head. When Alyssa pulled him to her lips, he pushed against her softly at first, and then pushed her lips apart with his, letting his breath caress her tongue, and slip around her, trickling down her throat.
"Oh," she moaned, so softly that it might well have been wind through a tree outside. "The way you kiss, the way your lips feel against mine, I think you're right. There's no way this wasn't meant to be."
Preston moved his hand further down her body, and then ran it along the top of her panties to her hip, where again he tickled her with his fingertips. When Alyssa's lips opened for a breath, he met her with another kiss, pushing her mouth open wider, dragging his tongue inside her.
Every little spot he tasted, every breath he breathed, filled Alyssa with warmth that, for her whole life, she never knew existed.
"I thought I'd never have someone like you. Or anyone at all," Preston said. He punctuated his words with a soft, sucking kiss that sent a warm wave down Alyssa's sides. "It's been a strange ride."
She nodded and pulled him back for another taste of his velvet lips.
"I know what you mean. Don't
leave, okay?"
Preston pushed the edge of his shroud to the side with his thumb and met Alyssa's kiss.
His tongue slid again around the edge of her lip, ducking behind gently and tentatively. The heat against her chest and between her legs told Alyssa that he needed to stop being so coy and she wanted to drag her nails down his back and wrap her legs around his waist, but better sense calmed her down a little.
But not much.
The instant Preston's lips left hers, a moan slipped free from Alyssa's mouth. His fingers brushed lower on her stomach, dipping just a little underneath the top of her soft white panties, and she found herself almost trembling with how much she longed to feel his touch down there.
When he lowered his head for another suck on the neck, trailing down her collarbones, Alyssa slid her hand between their bodies and worked the first button on his shirt loose, then the second.
"You want to see me?"
"Of course I do. I want to see you and feel you and have your skin burn me up with all that heat that seems to come out of you. Why would I not want that? You don't need to be embarrassed with me, okay? Of anything, okay?"
"I have..." his whisper trailed off. "I have scars."
"I know," she said, craning her neck for another kiss, this one on the corner of his sweet mouth. "I can see the bottom of one right here. And you know what?"
"Yeah?"
Instead of speaking, Alyssa pushed the fabric aside and kissed the old wound on Preston's lip. Gently, she sucked it between her teeth and then moved to his bottom lip, pulling it inside her mouth and running her tongue between it and his teeth. Both of her hands went to the side of his face and pulled him close.
The hand on her stomach slipped further down and Alyssa almost screamed out for him to touch her, but it went around to the front of her hip. Her lover's thumb stroked the bone of her hip, and his pinky lay between the inside of her thigh and the outside of her...
When he moved it, Alyssa sucked a breath and couldn't help but wiggle a tiny bit. The way he felt and his weight on her body, his hand curling gently right there, so close to her sex that she could hardly stand it, it all came together and shot deep, slow vibrations all the way to her shoulders.