Deadly Curses

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Deadly Curses Page 11

by Donna Shields


  Jason and Lindsay had arrived in time for the ham dinner. Jason feigned pain and jet lag. Sammy set him up in the only bedroom on the first floor. All were here: Greg, Sammy, Lindsay, Greg’s two kids, Lisa and little Gabrielle. Even Ciarra had stayed, but only after Sammy’s persistence. It was getting late, and Sammy insisted they spend the night. The local news channel had warned of black ice in spots along the country roads.

  Ciarra wouldn’t even look his way.

  Sammy had a knack for keeping things calm. “So, Lisa, tell us a little bit about yourself.”

  Lisa’s face turned red at the sudden attention upon her. “Well, I’m from Acadia. My boyfriend split when I found out I was pregnant. I’ve been on my own ever since.” She looked down at her plate, pushing the food around with her fork.

  Sammy looked to Ciarra, who shook her head. She backed off. “Ciarra, how about you? You work for the city I hear?”

  “Yes. I’m a homicide detective.”

  Everyone glanced up from their plates. Lindsay spoke first. “Wow. You must see . . . well, I guess it wouldn’t be very appropriate at the table.”

  “Unfortunately, I see more than I care to. But it’s part of the job.”

  “But, you’re protecting Trent? From a killer?”

  Little Lily’s eyes grew wide. “Mommy—”

  “Linds, really?” Greg waved a hand toward Lily and Ben.

  Ben scooted closer to Ciarra. “So, you’re like Superman?”

  Ciarra laughed. “Not quite. I don’t have a cape.”

  “But you have a gun? Can I see it?” Ben’s eyes lit up.

  Sammy spoke up. “Benjamin, finish your dinner.”

  Ciarra turned her attention to Trent. The beautiful smile faded, and her eyes focused back on her plate.

  Trent touched her arm. “You have a fan it seems.”

  The smile returned and her eyes once again looked at him. Then that almighty bell began ringing causing her smile to fade away.

  Specifically, the blasted dinner bell.

  “Damn Sammy. Did you give him that bell?” Trent stood up, tossing his napkin down on his plate.

  “Well . . .”

  Trent excused himself and moved toward the bedroom Jason occupied.

  Jason decided he wanted some food, so Sammy made him a plate, and Trent grudgingly went in to deliver it. He wanted to put it over the kid’s head, but kept his cool. His brother was incapacitated after all.

  Taking a deep breath and exhaling, Trent asked, “How are you feeling? Do you need anything other than your supper right now?”

  “I could use a little help up to the bathroom, if you don’t mind? And I’d like to know who that gorgeous lady is that came in here with the smoking incense, blessing this house. God, that woman is hot. But more important, why was she doing it?”

  Trent helped his brother up to standing position and held him steady as he shuffled to the bathroom grunting in pain. Trent made sure Jason was fine to stand on his own with the support of the handicap bar on the side wall and talked through the open door. “She’s here because the detective asked her to come. Are you even able to stand and pee with that broken arm?”

  “Trust me. It’s better than trying to sit with the fractured ribs. Back to the hot blessing chick. Why did the cop ask her to come here? What have you done now? You are the uptight-never-do-anything-wrong brother, so what gives? Did you piss someone off?”

  Trent gritted his teeth. “No, I didn’t. The detective thinks that some crazy woman cursed me because her kid died in my ER.” He sighed. “I think it’s a load of crap, but if it makes the detective happy, then I’m all for it.”

  Jason turned to face the door. For a couple of seconds, he studied Trent as he held on to the side bar. “What is going on between you and the pretty detective anyway? You have the hots for her, or is she open game? While I like the exotic looking woman, I could sure be happy playing cops and robbers with the detective. Think she will let me play with her handcuffs?” Jason winked at him.

  Trent grabbed ahold of Jason’s arm a bit rough, tugging him away from the bar to the door. Jason grimaced. “Holy shit, Trent. You’re a damn doctor for crying out loud.” Jason bent slightly at the hip. He groaned.

  The guilt calmed down Trent a bit. He would never treat one of his patients that way. “Look, I’m sorry.” He put his arm around Jason’s good side so Jason could wrap his free arm around him. Trent lowered Jason to the bed this time being careful not to jerk him in any way. “Just stay away from the detective. She is far out of your juvenile league. You would not be able to handle it. I don’t want to have to come in here and kick your ass. You’re already an injured man.”

  By the time he completed catering to his brother and returned to the kitchen, everyone finished eating and most of the dishes were washed and put away. Sammy finished drying the last couple of plates before Trent spoke up. “Where’s Ciarra?”

  “Greg showed her to her room.”

  “I’ll go—”

  “Honey, can I give you some advice? I don’t know what you said or did, but she’s pretty upset.”

  “It’s the whole curse thing.”

  Sammy set down the towel. “She’s only trying to save your bum. Maybe you need to start listening. Here’s my advice, leave her alone for tonight. She’s tired. Wait until the morning.”

  Trent didn’t have much of a choice. “All right.”

  “You promise?”

  “Boy Scout promise.” The guilt burned deep within his stomach.

  “You won’t have to hold him to that promise,” Ciarra interrupted. She stepped through the doorway.

  “Look, Ciarra . . .” Trent wanted to apologize for being such a jerk. Then he spotted her partner walk into the kitchen.

  “Thank you, Sammy, for allowing me to stay for dinner. I am going to head back to the city before the black ice sets in out here in the country. Trent, Rick will stay for the night shift. I have some things to take care of.”

  “Well of course that is fine. Rick, I will show you to the room she was going to stay in. Follow me.” Sammy turned to Trent and waved a finger at him.

  They walked out of the kitchen leaving Ciarra and Trent alone.

  “Ciarra, please listen—”

  She grabbed her jacket and put it on. “I will be back in the morning to relieve Rick. He has a court date to attend to. Otherwise, he would have stayed.”

  “And you wouldn’t return.”

  She said nothing.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I was such a jerk earlier. I get you are just trying to help and protect me. But, unlike the others, I feel fine. I don’t feel sick. It’s hard to believe someone has cursed me. I’m not superstitious.”

  The professional face—the stern look and the drawn, puckered lips—had returned once again. Every time he thought he was making headway, he stumbled a half mile backward.

  Was he trying to make headway? Yes, he was. Damn it all to hell, but he liked her. A lot.

  “Dr. Moore, I accept your apology. However, just like you will save your patients to the best of your ability, I will protect you to the best of mine. That includes any possible crazy lead. And I believe what I believe. The more ‘accidental’ things that occur to you, the stronger my belief becomes in the curse. So, you can take it or leave it. I’m doing my job.”

  He reached out to touch her arm, but she moved out of the way. “I will see you in the morning. Good night.”

  His heart sank as he watched her walk out of the kitchen and heard the door open. He wanted to chase her, but he was afraid he would push her further away. It was best to give her the space.

  It would be hard to get to sleep tonight knowing he’d driven Ciarra away by upsetting her so.

  Chapter 8

  Trent stood in the doorway observing Ciarra near the window as the snow fell in the late morning. It was rare for Acadia to have the fluffy precipitation. It snowed maybe once every couple of years, but it never amounted to much. The snowfall s
tarted picking up, already covering the ground

  Those beautiful sad eyes and her expression mirrored in the window spoke to his guilt-ridden soul. Earlier, he had sat at the breakfast table, coffee in hand, waiting for Ciarra to arrive. She’d shown up in an old baggy sweatshirt and a snug pair of jeans. Her damp hair hung loose over her shoulders and down her back. She’d gathered some food on her plate after Sammy insisted she eat, but didn’t touched it. He’d said good morning, and she’d responded. Past that though, she hadn’t said another word or looked in his direction.

  He hadn’t meant to embarrass Ciarra or be such an ass to her friend. He didn’t believe in any hocus-pocus. She took this curse belief serious. And he didn’t. He wasn’t sure he ever would. He had tossed the stone her friend had given him out into the yard last night. Maybe he needed to go back out and find it after the snow melted.

  He had laughed at their ceremonial protection. The image of Ciarra and her escaped tear burned in his mind all night. Sleep had been elusive. There were a couple of times he’d climbed out of bed ready to apologize, and he had made it out in to the hallway once. Then he remembered she wasn’t here at the farm.

  He needed to apologize again.

  Trent entered the living room and walked around the sofa. Brutus lay at her feet. His head rose upon hearing Trent’s footfalls, got up and trotted over to him. “Good morning, boy.” He patted his large head. The brute nudged at his leg, nearly toppling Trent over.

  Ciarra had been right in one respect. Not too many people received a second chance at life. But, Trent had no intention of dying anytime soon. Could he explain away the judge and the taxi driver’s deaths? No, but it didn’t mean some curse was in full swing.

  He wanted to stand behind Ciarra and gather her in his arms. To stroke her soft ebony hair. To apologize again for being an ass. But, he wouldn’t hold her. She still grieved for her late husband.

  Three years later.

  Now there was some dedication. He couldn’t even wrap his head around it. Just when he’d begun to get a taste of devotion, Rachel had ripped it away. Rachel had cared for the lost souls on the street, the same way Ciarra did. But, with Rachel¸ it’d all been lies, just a front to put on.

  He didn’t have good instincts when it came to females. But, Ciarra seemed so genuine, so pure. Especially when her eyes had lit up at the hospital as she’d spoken about her late husband.

  Why did he suddenly care about anyone’s feelings? Ciarra was reducing him to jelly. He liked his independence. Not being tied down by anyone, to anyone. And the no expectations rule worked well.

  Just so damn lonely though.

  He cleared his throat announcing his entrance. She hadn’t heard him talking to Brutus. Or maybe she had. “I need to go back to my condo and get something.”

  She turned and the disappointment those eyes held tore at his heart. Where did these emotions come from?

  “No.” She folded her arms over her chest.

  His stubbornness was about to take over, but he was powerless. He wanted his cat. “I wasn’t asking for permission. But, since you’re hell bent on keeping me safe, I thought you’d like to come along with me to ensure I don’t keel over.” So much for apologizing. His stubborn pride would get him nowhere.

  “You are pigheaded. What’s so important at your condo? Forget some fancy coffee cup?”

  “Forget it. Don’t bother.” He swayed a bit as he spun around, but managed to put one unsteady foot in front of the other. The nagging ache in his head he’d woken up with this morning had increased to a steady throb. On his first try getting out of bed, he’d pitched forward from the wooziness. It took all of ten minutes for him to stand. It had to be from the stress. The dizziness clung to him still. He warded it off by steadying himself alongside the wall. He needed more sleep. But not before going back to his place.

  “You can’t go by yourself,” she called out to him.

  He stopped short, his hand on the front door handle. The hairline on the back of his neck tickled. He turned and found the sadness in which had been etched in her face earlier had been replaced with a set jaw and a raised eyebrow.

  “Again, what’s so important at the condo?”

  “My cat. I haven’t been home at all. I have no clothes of my own here, and I want my damn cat. Okay?”

  The tense muscles along her cheeks and jaw relaxed. “Okay. But, don’t you have a neighbor who could look after your cat? If you haven’t noticed, it’s snowing.”

  Didn’t she get it? She should as she had her oversized monster of a dog with her. Princess was his baby. “No. If I’ve ever had to go anywhere overnight, she either came with me, or I dropped her off with my sister.” He leaned against the door for support. The pounding in his head began to ebb away, but the dizziness held firm. The woman in front of him was also affecting him on such a high emotional level. He needed some air.

  Very cold air.

  “Are you okay?” She touched his cheek and ran her hand up across his forehead. The tingling trail of her fingers sent shockwaves throughout his face, down his neck, and to his groin. Shit.

  “No. I want my cat.” He tugged open the door, made his way across the porch, and down the steps clinging to the railing for dear life. Of course, he forgot his damn coat.

  “Trent, please wait. I’ll drive you. You better put this on.”

  His name rolled off her tongue for the first time since they’d met, and it sang to his heart. There she stood with his coat in hand. His heart skipped a beat. Was this how it felt to be falling for someone? As in the L word, which he’d sworn he’d never speak of? He had a funny feeling he’d be fighting a losing battle when it came to his heart and Ciarra. It scared him out of his wits, more so than some silly curse she believed in.

  He sucked in a ragged breath.

  Or maybe this sudden sickness caused it. Whatever it was, he hoped he could shake it.

  “You sure you’re okay? You don’t look good.” Her concern warmed his soul. Truth be told, the coffee burned his stomach and the lack of food wasn’t helping. The drive into the city had been slow going, the snow falling at a steady pace. The normal twenty-five minute drive took almost ninety.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m fine. Just tired, and I want my cat.” He grabbed the door latch and yanked it open. He turned back to her. “I’m sorry.” Relief flooded him at the release of the two simple words. “I was a complete jerk last night. I know I need to have an open mind, but it is kind of hard.”

  She didn’t reply. Only smirked and stroked his arm reassuringly. His heart damn near exploded at the touch. He wanted to lean over and kiss those soft lips of hers and get lost forever. He had to get some distance from her. Being cooped up in the car next to her proved to be torture . . . a wonderful, pure torture. If he didn’t get out now, he would kiss those inviting lips and wouldn’t ever be able to stop.

  She broke the spell, clearing her throat. “I’ll go find a parking spot and be right up.” The increased crimson in her cheeks made her skin glow, and her cocoa eyes twinkled. Oh hell, she was blushing. Could it be she felt the same way toward him?

  Trent tumbled out of the car grateful for the distance. Her perfume made his head swim. “Good idea. It’s number two-o-two.” The dizziness no longer had a hold on him. Breathing in the fresh cold air seemed to be working.

  Once inside his building, he stepped into the elevator and thought back to every woman who’d been in his life. Most of them were okay. A couple had been a little more than a one-night stand. One came awful close to marriage. Rachel.

  But, he’d witnessed firsthand what ‘love’ got you. His mother loved his father more than any human could love another. She’d slaved away on the farm until the strokes forced her into bed for the remainder of her days. She devoted her remaining short days on Earth to pleasing a man who didn’t seem to get this rare gift lots of people didn’t receive.

  As Trent climbed off the elevator and headed for his condo, he played tug of war with h
is heart. He didn’t want anyone to rely on him. His time was devoted to his work.

  But if Ciarra were to drive away right now and disappear, how would I feel? Trent unlocked the front door. Before he could answer himself, a surprise sat waiting for him on his sofa.

  The blonde bombshell he’d met at the jazz festival last year had been one of his rare more than a one-night stands. He could let loose and have fun with Miranda, forgetting about the tragedies of the day, and she was a huge stress reliever for a finale. On a scale of one to ten, this woman marked an easy twelve. Endless sexy legs attached to her five foot seven frame and curves in all the right anatomical places. And the best part was she didn’t expect anything in return. No love. No commitment. No questions asked. Just pure pleasure. Everything a man would want.

  Until he met Ciarra.

  He’d given Miranda a key to his place a couple of months ago and told her to surprise him sometime. She certainly did that today. Trent sighed. “What are you doing here?”

  She rubbed a hand over a scantily lace covered, creamy breast and rested it upon her bare, taut stomach. “Waiting for you. I almost started without you.” She winked her gorgeous emerald eye at him.

  He couldn’t believe he was going to say it, but . . . “Not tonight.”

  A hint of disappointment flashed within her eyes, but it went just as fast as it had come. “Hmmm. Too bad. I was hoping for my physical exam, Doctor.” She ran her hand up the inside of her thigh, leaving him no doubt where it was headed.

  Ciarra would be up here any moment. A week ago, he would have pulled Miranda off the sofa, bent her over the kitchen table, and taken her right then and there. She liked the rough stuff.

 

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