Enfold (Thornhill Trilogy Book 3)

by J. J. Sorel

  “What?”

  She stood there with her hands on her hips, willing me on to attack her. “You heard me.”

  “You fucking whore,” I spat with the fury of a punch.

  I turned to Linus. “Call the cops.”

  He tapped the number into his phone.

  She went to run, but I grabbed her in time. “Tie her down first.”

  Linus said, “With pleasure.”

  She writhed about like a wild cat as Linus wound sticky tape around her wrists and legs.

  “Put some on that dirty mouth,” I said.

  After I was no longer needed, I headed out. Before leaving, I turned and sniggered darkly in her face. “Rot in hell.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CLARISSA

  While Aidan was away, all I could do was pace about the room. He was taking longer than my nerves could handle.

  I lost count of the number of times I peered out from the balcony and onto the grounds. To say I was spooked was a mild description of my state of mind. Every little rustle made my heart leap.

  Some good news had arrived while Aidan was out. Although I was not in the habit of reading his messages, I read the message from the vet stating that Rocket was doing well. I sighed loudly. My chest, which had been tied in knots, unraveled a little.

  I forgot I’d locked the door, so that when the handle turned and a knock followed, I jumped out of my skin.

  “It’s me, baby.” Aidan’s voice echoed in the hallway.

  I ran and opened it. “Aidan,” I uttered, falling into his arms. “Rocket’s going to be fine.”

  He pulled his head back, and his face brightened. “Really? They called?”

  I nodded. “Sorry for looking at your phone, but I sensed it might’ve been about Rocket. I was desperate to know.”

  “It’s okay, princess. I don’t mind you looking at my phone. I have nothing to hide from you. I’ve got to go back downstairs for the police.”

  “The police? Again?”

  He rubbed his neck. Aidan looked exhausted. I noted the same haunted expression I’d seen earlier. “I found Linus with Susana.”

  I sighed. “I had a feeling that was where he was.”

  Aidan studied me with a puzzled frown.

  “I’ve seen them together before, Aidan.”

  “And you never thought to tell me?” His annoyance scraped my heart.

  “I forgot. So much was going on, and I…” My eyes pooled with tears. I couldn’t handle all this drama. I wished my father had returned.

  Aidan’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, angel. It’s been a crazy night.” He came to me and held me. I tried to quell the maelstrom brewing but couldn’t, and tears poured down my cheeks as my body convulsed with sobs.

  Aidan held me for a moment, when his phone pinged.

  I pulled away. “I’m detaining you.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re everything, Clarissa. You come first. Always.” Aidan’s eyes shone with sincerity.

  He walked to his phone and read the message. “I’ve got to go downstairs, angel. I’ll be back soon.”

  Aidan didn’t return until early morning. When he came home, he fell onto the bed. I undid his shoes and removed his clothes. He mumbled something about having to call off his trip to New York then fell into a deep sleep.

  It wasn’t until the afternoon when Aidan surfaced. I busied myself in the office, dealing with the needs of the charities and paying bills. It was a full-time affair. I appreciated just how much Greta did. Nevertheless, the distraction was a godsend.

  Chris had called that morning. As usual, he sounded half asleep when he asked about supplies, especially since the student numbers were growing. I told him I’d drop in the following day.

  Aidan came and found me. He leaned against the door. Despite the stress of the night before etched on his beautiful face, he still mustered a sweet smile.

  “Hey, angel. What are you up to?”

  I went over and held him.

  “Ah, that feels better,” he crooned.

  “I had to pay a few bills for the refuges, and Chris needs more supplies. The program’s going really well again.”

  Aidan nodded reflectively. “Good.” He sighed. “Come and have a coffee with me.”

  It was weird, but this was the first time in the four months that I’d been seeing Aidan that we had not made love. Aidan put his arm around my waist and drew me so close I could feel his bulging thigh muscles against my hip.

  “I’m glad you’re with me, Clarissa. Today would’ve felt bleak otherwise.”

  I stopped walking and turned. “Aidan, you will tell me what happened.”

  Aidan nodded, his lips tightened into an off-center curve.

  I nearly spilled the coffee from my cup upon learning that Susana was John Howard’s daughter. Discovering that, along with her evil father, she had plotted to kill Aidan, sent me tumbling into a black pool of dismay.

  “You warned me about her,” said Aidan, stroking my hand.

  “I saw her with Linus the same night I was in the car chase.”

  Aidan’s brow wrinkled. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It slipped my mind. So much was going on.” My voice tightened. “Do you think that they were involved in the car chase?”

  Stroking my cheek, Aidan shook his head.

  “But how do you know that?”

  “Because yesterday I got word that a body had washed up.”

  My eyes stretched wide. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

  “Hell, Clarissa, so much has happened in the past twenty-four hours. To be honest, I forgot.”

  Aidan’s eyes, screaming for mercy, did little to quell my unrest.

  I stood up. “This all too much for me. I don’t know if I can handle it. You never tell me anything, Aidan. You’re secretive to a fault.”

  My legs turned to concrete. I remained there wanting to scream. I didn’t know what was making me angrier, the fact Aidan kept me in the dark, or at having discovered that I’d inadvertently killed someone.

  Aidan grabbed my hand. “What do you mean? You’re not leaving me, are you?”

  I fell deeply into his dark gaze, remaining frozen. It seemed like ages. Aidan’s desperation penetrated my heart, pouring deeply into my soul.

  I wanted to run. I wanted to go to the cottage and bury my head in a book or anything that would enable me to forget everything. I wasn’t good at drama. Especially with the threat of revenge clinging to every fixture of our lives.

  His eyes glistened with a watery film. Oh my, Aidan was about to break. He’d once admitted to me that he was unable to cry. But as I drowned in his despair, I sensed something deep within him was about to erupt.

  My heart melted with pity, love and helplessness.

  “Aidan, no… I couldn’t…”

  He lowered his head into his hands as if he’d been injured.

  “Aidan, I’m not leaving. I’m just frightened that someone will harm you. Harm us.”

  His intense gaze ate me up. His eyes had gone such an impossible shade of blue they swallowed my soul. A tear slid down his cheek.

  I held him as a mother would a son.

  Somehow, his weakness had become my strength. Eventually, I whispered, “Aidan, the very devil could enter this house, and I’d still remain with you.”

  He unraveled from my arms and stroked my cheek. His lips twitched into a faint smile.

  “Come on, angel. Let’s go for a walk.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The air packed a punch. I felt instantly revived.

  There was something eminently healing about a sea breeze. Its energy flowed through my veins. Walking by my side, Aidan remained quiet as he held me tight. It was comfortable silence. I read somewhere that the test of true love was that a couple could remain silent and still feel loved. We had that. His body, pressed gently against mine, felt so warm and reassuring that my spirit had been suddenly restored.

  As we strolled alon
g the cobbled path back to the estate, in the distance, we saw Rocket sitting placidly on the lawn with Roland.

  The faithful creature hobbled over to us, his tail wagging, his big brown eyes filled with love and gratitude. My heart melted at the sight of him. Aidan lavished him with pats and hugs. That was despite Rocket’s wound being bandaged and the vet’s instruction to avoid excitement.

  It was a hero’s welcome, nevertheless. Rocket had been rewarded with a nice big juicy bone. The handsome mutt looked up at us with his big brown eyes, thanking us for saving his life.

  “You’re the hero, buddy. If it weren’t for you, God knows what might have happened,” said Aidan, letting Rocket show his slobbering affection by licking his face and hands.

  Tears rolled down my cheeks. What a pretty sight they made, man and dog reciprocating joy at seeing one another.

  Aidan looked up at me. “Our boy’s home, and life’s good again.”

  Before leaving Rocket to devour his bone, Aidan instructed Roland to keep an eye on the canine and to not allow him to climb the stairs until his wound had healed.

  *****

  After dinner, Aidan and I settled on the sofa and watched something mindless on TV. Despite our having laid to rest the disquiet that had taken hostage of our fairy-tale existence, there was still one prickly subject that needed seeing to.

  “Aidan, tell me about the body that washed up.”

  He took a deep breath. “He’s been identified as a hit man. The police have no doubt that he was the one driving the car.”

  “Are they sure? I mean, how can they tell he was the driver?”

  “It was a rental car. And the ID they found on him was the same as the one registered with the rental company.”

  “I suppose that confirms it, then.” I paused to contemplate. “Why didn’t he seek help?”

  “Good question. I imagine he crawled out and might have stumbled down the rocks into the sea. Anything like that is plausible.”

  I grimaced.

  “Baby, don’t put yourself through this. Let me deal with it. I don’t want to fill that pretty head of yours with ugly images.”

  “I need to know, Aidan. It’s haunting me, to be honest. I feel like I killed him. I did, really—didn’t I?”

  Aidan faced me squarely. “Far from it, Clarissa. It was either you or him. His record is soaked in blood. You did society a favor.”

  “You make me sound like a vigilante.”

  “Clarissa, in this game of survival, the best outcome is the one where the good guy or girl comes out on top. And you, baby, were amazing. Words cannot explain how much I admire you, princess. Not only do you have the type of breathtaking beauty that improves every time I look at you, but you’ve got presence of mind. In the Forces, they trained that into us. But not many had that, really. Where most would’ve freaked out, you, baby, kicked ass. And thank God, because if anything had happened to you…”

  My body warmed, and I fell into Aidan’s reassuring hold. Vanity pushed away all my misgivings. I loved hearing that every time he looked at me, I grew more beautiful. Funny thing about that…every time I viewed Aidan’s handsome face and scrumptious body, the same thing happened to me. I could never tire of gazing at him.

  “Then who could have hired him? We now know it wasn’t Bryce. Could it have been John Howard?”

  Aidan shook his head. “I don’t think it was. Brutes like him get off on pain in their victims’ eyes and cries for mercy.”

  I shivered.

  “Sorry, baby. Am I being too gory?”

  “No, you’re not. I’m not a child, you know.” My tone was prickly.

  “You’re right. I keep forgetting how strong you are, Clarissa. Your big, beautiful eyes and sensitivity make me want to protect you from the ugliness of the world. I know this sounds a little uncouth. But at times I feel like a father to you.”

  “Mm… that reminds me of something I read once,” I said.

  “What was that?”

  “That in an ideal relationship, the man should be like a father, brother and son, and the woman, a mother, sister and daughter.”

  Aidan considered this for a moment. “That makes sense, a protector, a friend, and someone who needs you.”

  “I think that sounds healthy. Don’t you?” I asked.

  He nodded slowly. A little twinkle in his eyes flickered playfully. “Does that mean I’m being incestuous?” His hand slid up my thigh and travelled under my skirt all the delicious way up. “Oh, baby, you’re not wearing panties.”

  I giggled. I thought it was high time we played. I told myself that all the drama that had consumed our beautiful existence needed to be buried by a good session of heavy lovemaking. Therefore, I made sure I removed my panties before Aidan joined me.

  “Mm… your pretty little pussy has been neglected. And it’s oh so delectable.”

  His finger caressed my bud with a perfect, soft touch, then ramping up the heat, two fingers entered, making my fiery nerve endings send electrifying tingles through me. He undid the buttons of my blouse and found my breasts hungering for his tongue and lips.

  I unzipped his jeans and freed him. His thick, heavy cock pulsed frantically in my hand, as Aidan’s lips took to my nipples with the avidity of one starved.

  He ripped off my clothes. “Open your legs, princess. Let me look at that pretty pink pussy before I ravish it.”

  Mm… what was a girl to do? I opened wide while gazing into his lust-filled eyes.

  He held his heavy cock and positioned it. As the slick, thick head entered, I moaned through the intense stretch of it filling me with that indescribable pleasurable ache that made my heart bang fiercely against my chest. He pushed his pelvis against mine, every delicious inch buried deeply into me, and a loud, agonized growl left his parted lips.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I dropped into the VHC to see how things were going in the world of art making. Although Roy had set up his own studio, he still attended the classes for Chris’s expert guidance and to hang out with his friends.

  I stood in the room laden with canvases, moving from image to image. There was lots of variety, from contemporary abstract art to vases of flowers, portraits, landscapes, and images of pets.

  It was inspiring being there. Just like the first time I walked into that room to observe the program in full flight, I was struck by how fruitful Aidan’s scheme had been. Most of the students who had come bearing heavy scars were at that moment, in my eyes, at least, transformed. I could tell by their concentrated attention that they were absorbed in what they were doing. I could see that they’d invested their heart and soul into their creations.

  Chris was instructing a woman on how to mix color and apply it with a palette knife.

  He glanced up and asked me, “What do you think?”

  I studied the self-portrait rendered in crude brush and palette knife strokes, reminiscent of Van Gogh.

  “It’s fantastic.” I smiled at the artist. She gazed up at me with a shy smile of gratitude.

  “Chris, the work is mind-boggling. You’re really bringing the best out of students.”

  He rubbed his messy blond hair, making it stick up all over the place. He really looked as if he’d rolled out of bed and dressed in the dark. But then, that was Chris. He had that grunge thing happening. Not that I believed he designed it that way. That concept would have been abhorrent to someone as original as Chris. But he was a type. Just as we all were.

  “I can’t say it’s my doing, Clarissa.”

  “You’re being too modest,” I countered, glancing up at the woman whose work we were studying.

  She nodded in agreement with me.

  “Chris is a grumpy so-and-so,” she said with a chuckle. “But he’s brought my markings to life. That’s for sure.”

  “They’re more than markings. It’s a terrific self-portrait,” I said.

  “There are some great pieces,” said Chris, directing me to his office. “I especially like some of the a
bstract-expressionist ones. Did you see Mary’s canvas?”

  “I did. It’s very original and fashionable at the same time.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Speaking of which, have you set a date for the next auction?” He gestured with his arm for me to enter his office.

  “I asked Aidan, and he thought we could run one in a month’s time. I will have to send out the invites and market it. That shouldn’t be hard. I’ve been swamped with requests for placement on the mailing list.”

  Chris nodded. His lips formed a lazy smile. I was sure he’d been up all night. His face had that pale-and-haggard look about it.

  “Yep, the program has had good press, all right. You’re a talented publicist, Clarissa Moone.”

  “I’ve done very little. I just got in touch with some art publications and websites and plugged the philanthropic element.” I smiled. I was feeling lighter than I should have, considering what had transpired that week.

  Aidan had devoured me good and proper, and I was high on post-orgasmic endorphins. In fact, like Chris, I was permanently high. In my case, it was sex that was the drug.

  As I studied Chris, I saw something in his heavy blue eyes that made me feel pity and affection at the same time. He’d always inspired that in me. I never knew I could like someone who was a drug addict. If anything, it highlighted how closed-minded society was about these things.

  “How have you been?” I asked, taking the cup of coffee he handed me.

  He held up a bottle of bourbon and dropped some into his coffee. “Do you want some?”

  I shook my head.

  After he took a sip his focus returned to me. “I’ve been okay, I suppose. You know me.”

  “I don’t know you, Chris, that well. All I know is that you’re seriously talented and that I worry about you.”

  His head pushed back sharply. “You worry about me?”

  “Yeah, I do. I know you’re into shooting heroin, and I fear that we’ll find you on the floor one day.”

  “Ah… you don’t want to clean up after a junkie. That’s understandable. It’s not pretty.” His tone was dry and unaffected.

  “No, that’s not what I meant. Both Aidan and I respect you. We like you as a person. Not just as an artist.”