by A. C. Mason
Pain gripped his chest at the seriousness of her expression. “Life threatening, in what way?”
She huffed. “You’ll understand when I tell you.”
“This sounds grave.”
“It is. Will you give me your word?” She avoided looking at him.
What choice did he have? “Yes.” Was he ready to hear what she was about to tell him?
“I can only assume it happened the time I didn’t let you pull out, the night you asked me to move in with you. I said yes, on the condition that I go away with my parents for the summer a week later. I promised to move in September.”
How could he forget? Her need had echoed his own. That night had been everything he’d hoped for. She’d agreed to move in with him when she returned. His own condition was that she study culinary arts, as she’d so desperately wanted, but her parents objected to. He would have given her the stars to make her happy.
“I didn’t panic too much when my period was late in latter part of July.” She popped a piece of bread in her mouth.
Could she be hinting at what he thought she was? They’d conceived a child.
“I was never regular. Then it came, dark and watery with a lot of pain on my right side. I ignored it for a few more weeks.”
Maybe he was wrong. Something else. Of course, her appendicitis.
“I lay in bed and my shoulder hurt. Peter was worried about me. When Momma and Dad went out, he stayed behind to watch over me. I don’t remember what happened. From Peter’s account, I screamed. He found me collapsed in the bathroom, blood soiling me between my legs. I woke up in the hospital. Dad wouldn’t even look at me, so Momma explained that the baby implanted in my fallopian tube, which ruptured. It’s common for women with endometriosis. But we needed to keep it hushed up for my own good. That’s why, when you came to see me at the hospital, I just kept crying, and they wouldn’t leave you alone in the room with me. My parents decided it was in my best interest, after all, to go away to study. You were a bad influence on me.” Tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes.
If he didn’t know Leera, he would have thought the entire story was made up. Broken and scared, they had sent her away. He had been selfish with her. When she’d wanted sex without protection, he’d only thought of wanting a child with her. Not that she was still so young. He had put her life at risk.
“I’m so sorry, Lee-lee. You went through that alone.” At the time, it took everything in him to agree to let her spend the summer at the cottage with her parents, but she’d been so damned insistent and she’d promised to move in with him when she returned.
“Peter wasn’t even told. I couldn’t be with you and have that lie between us, just like my mother and father, who lived with all those lies. My parents feared I’d tell you–wanted me to end things cleanly, as soon as possible.”
That was why she had asked him to meet at the coffee shop. He remembered strange details. The song in the background. Cinnamon. Her white v-neck top. She was going away to study and didn’t want a long-distance relationship. When he’d offered to go with her, she had been harsh. “You don’t understand. We are over and I’m moving on.”
Chapter 12
Leera sensed Rowley’s pain from the glossy shine in his eyes. More followed. He’d pushed her at the coffee shop as he wouldn’t accept what she had been telling him.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” she said. For a year, she had moped around Paris with the hope he would come after her. Silly ideals of a little girl.
“I never understood why you cried, when you were breaking my heart.” He gathered her hand in his. “I’m hurt that you didn’t tell me. I would have done everything I could to help you.”
And that scared her most. Didn’t he get that her parents and Peter were her family too? Despite the horrible outcome, she wouldn’t betray them. It was easier for her to walk away from him than them.
“I’m angry with myself. In those moments in the coffee shop I questioned everything that happened between us. You were so cold in your delivery. In my mind, you didn’t love me. Nor had you ever. Now I find out you were bullied. Fuck.”
“We were young.” Back then his edgy side had thrilled her.
“You were young. I was older. I should have seen the signs. I knew what your parents were like, all the expectations put on you and Peter. It was the reason I wanted you to move in with me, to get you away from the pressure.” He locked his fingers with hers.
None of this would change what happened. “After what transpired, I couldn’t face you if you knew.”
“If things had gone differently, would you have kept our baby?” He stared into her eyes.
There was no real answer to that. “I don’t know. The only answer I can think of is tainted by everything that’s happened since. The infertility related to my endometriosis means that our child may be the only one I ever carry. I can’t say that I would have had the strength to fight the pressure from my parents. They would have wanted us to marry or for me to abort the baby.” Given those choices what would she have done? Run away. She had known Rowley most of her life. He had always maintained the government was out to make him into a monster. That he had been harassed because he had founded the Coalition for the Living. Since he had claimed the government was run by those who could line politicians’ pockets–like wealthy undead–the feds kept trying to frame him. She would have tired of not knowing what Rowley was up to.
“I would have married you without hesitation. The only reason I hadn’t asked you yet was not to alarm your father any further. I feared he would take you away from me.”
In her heart she knew that. But his dark side scared her.
“What are you thinking about?” He stroked her cheekbone with his knuckles.
“There is a side of you I don’t know. And that scares me.” Always had.
“I know, but you have to trust that even that part of me would never hurt you.”
Did she? She wasn’t the one she feared for. No, it was what he could do to others that unnerved her.
“I promise. I’ll protect you from the monster inside.”
Confirmation of what she had feared. She had to direct his attention off this subject. Nodding, she lifted a grape and brought the fruit to his mouth.
He parted his lips in acceptance and closed them over her fingers. Desire seeped into his gaze. Heat shot up her arm as she retracted her hand.
He groaned. “Still sweet.”
Her clit pulsed. No way could she hold him off physically forever. Soon enough, he’d want more and so would she. She slid away. Her body had never really stopped craving him.
“Too much, too fast?” With his hand on her shoulder, he scooted closer.
“A little. Do you mind dropping me off at home?” The stress of the last few days wore on her.
“I pushed you too far with that move, if you want to go home.” Sadness pooled in his gaze.
“No. I’m just drained. My emotions are all over the place. Tonight’s conversation was necessary, but took a lot out of me.” Opening up to him would deepen their bond.
“I want you to know how grateful I am for your honesty.” He covered her hands with his. “Never knowing would have been intolerable.”
Wondering what had occurred did leave a person with a pit of doubt.
“Buckle up and I’ll chauffer you home.” He smiled.
“Okay.” She latched herself in. Vaihan would have checked her seatbelt, if he were there. Where did that come from?
Rowley climbed into the front, started the car and pulled onto the road.
Blue-and-red lights flashed, and then a siren chirped.
“Shit.” He hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand.
She swallowed. Don’t let it be Barton.
“Everything is going to be okay.” He signaled, veered toward the sidewalk and stopped. “It’s because of the protest tomorrow.” He shot a quick glance into the rearview mirror. “No matter what you hear, you aren’t to get out
of the vehicle.” He slid back his cellphone. “If they ask you to step out of the car, dial Peter. Tell them you’ve contacted your attorney, and won’t be going anywhere until he arrives. Do you understand me?”
If he wanted her to remain calm, he wasn’t doing a very good job at keeping her that way.
“Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Rowley.” She nodded.
A broad figure stopped next to the driver’s side window. Large knuckles knocked on the glass. Her heart rate sped. The driver’s side window lowered.
“License and registration,” the man asked.
Rowley held out the documents. “Here you go, sir.” His tone was cordial.
“Mr. McKie, where are you headed tonight?” The black uniform had white lettering. CPD, Check Point Defense. The man angled his body and made eye contact with Leera.
“I’m about to drop off my date at home.” Rowley gripped the steering wheel.
The officer examined them with his gaze, first Rowley, then her. “Have you had anything to drink this evening?”
“I have not.” A lie.
He nodded and handed Rowley back the documents. “I’ll let you go with a warning, but I suggest you get your broken headlight changed.” With a few steps toward the front, he withdrew his stick and smashed the light.
She gasped.
“The next officer, now, might not be as kind,” the man said.
The leather beneath Rowley’s fingers squealed. Yet he smiled. “Thank you.”
“Have a good evening, ma’am.” The officer tipped his hat and strode back into the darkness.
No way, what she thought had happened, just happened. It couldn’t be real. “What was that?”
“The type of incidents I intend to keep you away from.” He met her stare in the rearview mirror. “Understood?”
If she hadn’t been in the car, she wouldn’t have believed it. And why not, since she herself was pulled over in the same manner, without purpose or cause, by Barton? Did she think that these kinds of things only happened to guilty people? People who deserved it?
Frost crystallized on the window, mirroring the coldness she felt. As Rowley drove on, outside, the houses blurred.
Rowley pulled the car into the driveway behind hers, went around back and opened her door, hand held out. She placed her fingers in his palm, and he tugged her to her feet, into his body.
“I’m sorry you were put through that.” He closed the door and walked her to the house, hand in hand. “I’ll be more cautious with our future outings.”
Her head ached. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“Borrow a vehicle so that when they run the plates my name doesn’t come up.” He slowed as they neared the door. “Not take you out the night before COTL has a mass protest march up to the White House. I’ll take extra precautions.”
“Okay.” She turned toward the door.
“You’re angry.” He placed his hand on her upper arm, turning her to face him.
Though her limbs felt numb, she backed into the door frame. “My mind has shut down. I’m not processing.”
He cupped her face and traced her jawline with his thumb, lowering his stare to her mouth. As his lips rushed over hers, he forced her back to the door. His breath misted over her skin. He licked her mouth, then his teeth grazed the tender flesh.
Heat flushed over her. Too much. Too soon. She pushed against his chest with her palms.
He leaned back.
“Good night, Rowley.” She unlocked the door, entered, and shut it. With a flick, she tossed her bag on the table and headed for the kitchen. No way could she sleep, feeling as she did. She kicked her boots to the side. Half a Valium should take the edge off.
Dark movement in the dining room forced her to retreat.
Barton sat at the table, arms crossed. “The pace at which you are moving, your involvement with both men is disappointing, to say the least.”
“How the fuck did you get in here?” With a hand on her chest over her leaping heartbeat, she advanced. The kitchen door’s chain was intact.
“Watch your language.” He stood up.
Best she mind her p’s and q’s around the agent. The last thing she wanted was another meticulous physical inspection.
“I don’t think you understood your assignment, Leera.” He leaned in the archway. His gaze simmered with interest. “You’re supposed to fuck them. Not be a cock tease.”
It didn’t take much for her to figure out what he was thinking. She shuddered. “If I move too quickly, Rowley will suspect something.” She couldn’t bear another humiliation session.
“No, that is how women think. Men don’t interpret sex. The only thing he’ll be focused on is getting off. And if you’re lucky, ensuring you do too.” He was a pig through and through.
“Take your coat off and turn around.” As he stepped closer, the light lit his face. Dark lashes framed his eyes and his sinister gaze.
No. She couldn’t do this again. “Is this necessary?”
“Seems you have a thing for resisting arrest.” He slid the coat off her shoulders and set the material on the counter next to her. The mechanism of the cuffs clanked as he confined one wrist. “You enjoy being roughed up, maybe?” He clutched her forearm and snapped the metal on her other wrist, squeezing her flesh. “Does it turn you on?”
She was powerless, just the way her father’s beatings had made her feel.
“Necessary? Depends on whose perspective you look at it from.”
A tug to her arm guided her backward, pressing her ass to his crotch.
He lowered her chest to the table. “Might seem like overkill, from your point of view, since only you know if you are carrying a weapon or a wire.” He descended behind her.
She waited with dread for when she would feel his hands.
“From my side of the coin, I’d be pretty stupid not to be diligent with you. You aren’t helping me out of the goodness of your heart.” He pressed his palm to her inner leg and moved up the seam.
Of course she wasn’t. She was helping Peter because he’d always protected her.
Barton tucked his fingers into the seat of her pants. Two pressed, gliding back and forth.
“You’re a very attractive woman, Leera,” he said, groaning, and fondled her other leg with excruciating slowness, then stood and lifted her upright. “I do miss hearing you come. Don’t be shy. No one has to know you enjoy an audience.”
Between the blinds, light from the street post streamed into her face.
The pins and needles sensation in her hands burned.
He patted her ass, searching up along her back. “I bet the thrill will make you come harder.” With a jerking motion, he turned her to face him.
From the top down he unbuttoned her shirt, lowered the straps of her bra.
“Do you know what’s intriguing about you, sexually?” he asked.
Whether she wanted to or not, he insisted on speaking of these things. “You’re really into anal. A man is lucky if a woman will do it occasionally. But you...” As he peeled the cups of her bra from her breasts, he exhaled heavily.
Wanting to be anywhere but here and see him touch her, she turned her face to the side.
“I’ve watched you do it with your toy.” He passed his tongue over his lips. “I’ve never come so hard jerking off as I did watching you do it. You’re a freak. Talking dirty while you do it too.” He touched her nipple with his thumb and index finger. “Anytime you want my help with that, say my name.” He brought his fingers to her chin and lifted her face. “Spread your legs further apart.”
The bastard wanted her to look at him. Unless he forced her, she wouldn’t do it. She glided her feet along the floor.
“Perfect.” He unlooped the button and yanked the side of her jeans, forcing the zipper down. “No panties?” He slipped his hand between her thighs, met her curls with his touch and one finger pressed her labia apart.
Jaw clenched, she endured him probing with his
fingers, his breathing labored. “All clear.” He lifted his fingers to his mouth and tasted.
Gross. Just the thought of him made her skin crawl.
He leaned in and uncuffed her. “Have a seat.” He pointed at a chair.
Her fingers were numb, and she massaged her wrist to regain feeling. “May I cover up?”
“If you must.” He sighed.
She placed her breasts back into her bra and closed her shirt. “Why are you here? What if I brought Rowley in? Don’t you think he’d have a gazillion questions?”
“Possibly. However, the way things were going, I didn’t think you’d bring him in. If you had, I would have slipped out the back undetected.” He sat across from her. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to stop holding back when with them, do that. Do you understand me?”
If she only knew what the hell the feds wanted, she might be able to help by asking the right questions.
“I know that look. The less you know the better.” He wagged his index finger at her.
“You knew I had no experience in this area. Much less, in pursuing two men sexually and what the rules are.” She wasn’t some cunning federal recruit.
“There is your problem. There are no rules of engagement. Only pure instinct will get you through this. A dash of truth and whatever you need to say to move things along.”
She didn’t have it in her to get through this but she had to for Peter.
“Sunday, McKie will have a number of suspect characters at his place.” Barton opened the backdoor. “I want you to pay him an unexpected visit around one.”
After her reaction tonight, she couldn’t be sure Rowley would want to see her again.
Barton removed an overcoat from the back of the dining room table chair and put it on. “If you relax, you might even enjoy yourself, Leera.” The lock clicked as he left.
Chapter 13
Rowley turned from his guests toward Devin. Very few individuals were ever welcomed into his private residence. He used the gesture as an act of good faith when solidifying relationships into allies. Something about the familiar setting of a home brought out the unguarded side of people.