Redemption (Desire Never Dies)

by Clara Grace Walker

  “I’m not asking as Nick the publisher. I’m asking as Nick, the man you’ve appointed your Daddio.”

  “Are you sure about that?” She made a pass at sounding skeptical, but she lacked Earl’s acting skills and she could tell by the smirk on Nick’s face he wasn’t buying it.

  “I don’t publish every story I’m made aware of, you know.”

  “You don’t?”

  He shook his head. “There’s a few off-the-record tales I’ve been told that never made it into print.”

  “Why not? Were they about friends of yours? Or family members?”

  “No. They were from people I gave my word to they wouldn’t be printed.”

  “You mean if someone tells you something off-the-record, you don’t print it?”

  “Not if I’ve given my word.”

  “I see.” She considered this. “Have you ever printed a story you wished you hadn’t?”

  “Yes.”

  He seemed sad when he answered, and she wondered why. “What story was it?”

  “The pictures of Taralynn Clarke and Rod Skinner.”

  The admission surprised her. “You said in group she didn’t kill herself because of them.”

  Nick glanced down at the ground, taking in a deep breath. “I don’t think they were directly the reason, and I think there was more than one single cause, but I think the pictures did play a role in what happened. And I’ve regretted it ever since.”

  “Then why didn’t you say that in group?”

  “Because this isn’t a reputable facility, and I don’t think Shirley respects the rules of therapy. You’re better off watching what you say here and not letting known information you don’t want the rest of the world finding out about.”

  Mindy nodded, thinking about her son. Protecting her secret had been the right call. “If I tell you about Earl, do I have your word it’s off-the-record?”

  “You have my word.”

  “There are things about my past Earl doesn’t know. And I don’t want him to know.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just don’t.” Off-the-record or not, she wasn’t telling him.

  “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But take it from me, you should tell him.”

  “I can’t.” How could he possibly insist she tell Earl her secrets without even knowing what they were? “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand that loving someone means trusting them. And I understand how it feels to have someone you love keep secrets from you.”

  “Really? I can’t imagine Jamie keeps any secrets from you.”

  “No.” Nick shook his head. “Jamie and I have a wonderful relationship. I was talking about my late wife, Janelle.”

  “You mean the one who was murdered?”

  “Yes.” Nick’s eyes took on a far-away look. “Our marriage had been falling apart when she had an affair with Rod Skinner, and he blackmailed her to keep it quiet. As much as it hurt to have her cheat on me, I think what hurt more was learning she didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

  “But you printed the story of her affair in your paper,” Mindy pointed out. She was thinking again of the boy, and the secret that had to be kept. “Maybe that’s why she didn’t want to tell you.”

  “I would have never printed her name in that story while she was alive.” Nick stood looking at the ground, aimlessly kicking at a moss-covered log. After a quiet pause he looked at her, his gaze serious. “I kept the names of the other victims out of it. I would have kept hers out of it, too. But at the time I thought it had something to do with her murder, and I was trying to find out who killed her.”

  Mindy thought for a minute. “What if she hadn’t been murdered, and had divorced you instead? Would you still have kept her name out of it?”

  “Yes.” Nick paused and drew in a breath. “Look, I’m not saying every person in the world is trustworthy enough to keep your secrets if your relationship with them ends. What I’m saying is you need to decide if Earl is honorable enough that he would. If he’s not, then you should cut him out of your life and move on. But if he is, then you should treat him with the trust and respect he deserves.”

  “But how can I know that? How can I be one hundred percent sure?”

  “I don’t’ know if you can ever be one hundred percent sure of anything,” Nick said. “I think that’s why they call it trust.”

  She felt more confused than ever. Her son’s entire life was at stake. How could she ever be anything less than one hundred percent sure? Thinking about it was starting to make her head hurt. And looking behind her, she saw they’d strayed so far into the trees she could no longer make out the bath house. “We should get back,” she said. “Before Rory wonders what’s going on.”

  Nick nodded. “I’ll work out a grid system this afternoon so we don’t search the same area twice.”

  Mindy started back, following behind Nick. Two questions plagued her thoughts. Where was Pauline’s body? And what was she supposed to do about Earl?

  Chapter 35

  Thoughts of Earl stayed in the background of Mindy’s mind like a low-playing soundtrack. No matter what else she did or said, her mind circled the question of what to do about him. An answer eluded her though, no matter how many times she asked the question.

  Standing in front of his hotel room door, she tried to quiet her uneasiness and knocked. Anxiety pounded her, stealing away her calm. Sucking in her breath, she reminded herself it was stupid to be nervous. Either she would decide to trust him or not.

  Earl answered the door within seconds, sweeping her into the room and closing the door behind them. He smiled, beaming as he stood looking at her. “Mindy,” he said. “I was afraid you might not make it. Or that Shirley would come up with some excuse to summon me to her office.”

  Talk of Shirley settled her down. She suffered no confusion where that woman was concerned. “She’s up to something.” She’d been thinking that since Earl told her about his meeting with her yesterday. “She wants something from you.”

  Earl rolled his eyes. “Whatever it is, she’s going to have to stop wanting it, because the only thing I’m inclined to give her is a one-way ticket out of the country.”

  “Sure,” Mindy teased. “Make her someone else’s problem.”

  “I guess that wouldn’t be terribly neighborly of me, would it?” His teasing smile preceded his embrace. An instant later, his kiss devoured her.

  Mindy closed her eyes, allowing herself the moistness of his lips and the taste of his mouth. Tongues twisting and sparring, their kiss deepened, coaxing her to a wet state of readiness as memories of being with him pushed her toward arousal. And still, Nick’s words played through her thoughts like a recording loop. She had to tell Earl the truth or give him up. She supposed it would be the latter. It could never end well between them. Not as long as he wanted to know her secrets. And not as long as she had to keep them.

  Pulling away from him, she stepped back, opening her eyes. It gave her a moment to think, to dampen down her physical reaction. Her gaze came, inevitably, to the bed. A tangle of sheets and blankets kicked toward the foot.

  Earl glanced from her to the bed. She read his thoughts as clearly as if he’d spoken them. “I need to be back in twenty-nine minutes,” she said. “Make that twenty-eight.”

  He grinned. “That’s time enough.”

  He kissed her again, and like a traitor, her body responded, awash in desire. She supposed she should stop him. If she had a decent bone in her body she would. She’d stop leading him on. She’d tell him to pack up, leave, and forget she existed. Selfishly, however, she followed him to the bed, making no effort to resist as he slid off her skirt and pulled the straps of her bathing suit over her shoulders.

  He kissed the crook of her neck and along her collar bone, tickling her skin with his facial hair, shuddering pleasure through her with his warm mouth, nipping at her flesh just hard enough to make her wince. Mindy sighed, and Earl looked up,
smiling. “You always did like that.”

  Need drowned out Nick’s words at last. She might have to give Earl up, but she didn’t have to do it right now. “Do you remember everything I like?”

  “I remember you like this.” Pulling her bathing suit down to her waist, Earl slid his hands over her breasts, twirling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, pinching them lightly until her hips arched upward. Bending over, he brushed his tongue across each nipple, sliding the suit over her hips, sending it falling to the floor. Grabbing hold of her backside, he held her steady, his grip tight while he teased her with his tongue.

  Mindy moaned, too lost in desire to respond any way but physically.

  He straightened, pulling her against him until her head rested on his shoulder. “Do you remember the first time we made love?”

  “How could I forget?” They’d been in the back seat of a limo, on their way to a romantic dinner. “We never made it to the restaurant.”

  “We made it somewhere much better.” He knelt down, snaking his tongue in a trail down her stomach, licking into her belly button before plunging into the damp heat between her thighs. Lapping at her tender folds of flesh, he flicked his tongue over her clitoris, plunging into her with his mouth, making love to her orally until she moaned and shuddered.

  “Earl.” She called his name, giving herself completely to his pleasure. “Take me now.”

  He paused and looked up just long enough to grin. “Not until you beg me for it.”

  He tasted her, sliding his tongue over her until she dripped, holding firmly to her hips while she squirmed in his grasp. “I want you,” she panted. She shut her mind down to all the reasons why she shouldn’t, too focused on the silky pleasure of his tongue to think of anything else.

  He didn’t answer her request, but continued to glide his lips along her womanhood until she whimpered.

  “Please.” She fisted her fingers into his hair, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, thrusting her hips forward, certain she would die if he didn’t soon take her.

  As her breath came fast and shallow, he stood and undressed himself. It took only seconds for him to pull his t-shirt over his head, unzip his jeans and release his fully aroused state. The sight of him provoked more wetness, preparing her for his entry. Mindy reached out, moving her hand along the hard length of him.

  He smiled in response. “Ready for me?”

  “Extremely.”

  Scooping her up, he laid her on the bed, stretched his naked body on top of her, and parted her legs. After slipping two fingers inside, he caused her to squirm uncontrollably. “Please,” she moaned. “No more teasing.”

  “Trust me, love. I’m not teasing.” Positioning the swollen head of his shaft at her opening, he thrust deeply inside, claiming her in a wave of passion filled with warmth and pleasure. Mindy wrapped her legs around his back, pushing him in deeper, riding the current. He slowed as he withdrew and plunged back in. Each stroke as he entered and pulled back out brought its own sensation of touch, of intensity, of something so tangible, yet intangible, that she lost control and cried out his name. Lost herself to their rhythm, to the long, hard feel of him. For a short while she forgot the dark memories of other times, where she’d felt only fear or revulsion. Lying with Earl, being one with him, nothing else mattered. Like no one else had ever existed. Accelerating his pace, Earl thrust into her with repeated intensity. Mindy gasped, raking her nails into the flesh of his back and giving into the new waves of ecstasy, completely immersed in the moment where pleasure turned to orgasm. She cried out, only vaguely aware of Earl’s answering groan. His eyes closed, he shot his seed deep inside her, and Mindy remembered only happiness.

  Afterward, with Earl collapsed on top of her and lazy from spent passion, she glanced at the clock and reality swallowed her back into its icy grip. “I don’t have much time left. I should clean up and get dressed.”

  Earl followed her into the bathroom, watching while she dampened a washcloth and cleaned herself. “I still love you,” he said. “I never stopped.”

  Those were the words she’d wanted him to say since he’d first arrived, and the ones she’d been dreading. And she wanted to say it back; meant to, but her reason for leaving him rushed back like a waking nightmare. Nick was right. She had to either trust him or let him go. Tears stung her eyes. “You should go home and find someone who can be open and honest with you,” she said. “This thing with us is never going to work.”

  “What are you talking about?” His voice rose. “How can you say that after what we’ve just shared?”

  She brushed a string of tears from her face, saying nothing.

  “You love me,” Earl said. “I know you do. I dare you to deny it.”

  “I can’t give you what you need.” The tears continued. She couldn’t get them to stop. “You should stop trying to save me.”

  He pulled her hands from her face, forcing her to look at him. “I’ll decide what I need and what I want to do. And unless Anthony physically throws me out, I’m not leaving.”

  She opened her mouth, but her protest was pre-empted by a knock at the door. Her heart sputtered. “Who is that?” she whispered, stepping quickly into her bathing suit.

  Earl put a finger to his mouth. “Stay here. I’ll get rid of whoever it is.”

  She stood, shaking, listening to her heart riot as Earl opened the door.

  “Rory,” he said.

  Mindy let out her pent-up breath, relaxing almost at once. She finished slipping on the bathing suit and stepped into her skirt.

  “Where’s Mindy?”

  “She’s just using the rest room. She’ll be out in a minute.”

  Earl sounded calm. Not at all like he’d almost been caught, literally, with his pants down.

  “She needs to get back to the pool right away. Dennis showed up unexpectedly and asked where she was. I told him she’s in the bath house. She needs to hurry up and get over there.”

  Mindy rushed out of the bathroom, her heart once more racing. “Damn,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  Rory looked her over, a curious glint in his eye. Then he looked at the unmade bed and frowned. “Follow me,” he said. “I know a trail through the woods that leads back to the pool.”

  Mindy rushed off after him, glancing at Earl as she raced out the door. Sadness colored his gaze, and she hated knowing she’d put it there.

  Chapter 36

  Shirley sat glued to her chair, watching the map on The Weather Channel. Out over the Atlantic, a colorful patch swirled in an angry circle, turning from red at its center, to orange, to yellow, to dark green as it moved to the outer borders.

  “It’s pretty late in the season for a hurricane,” Debbie Evans said to her colleague on the television screen. “Still, we’ll be watching Tropical Storm Phoebe to see if she’s aware of the calendar.”

  Chuck Adams, her colleague, laughed. “Can’t help but wonder if Mother Nature knows hurricane season is supposed to end in six days.”

  The Weather Channel anchors shared another laugh while Shirley watched the circling storm. She hated the thought of hurricanes. Not the thought of the storm itself, so much as the flooding that might accompany it. She’d never been in a hurricane. She’d only been in Florida a few years. But she knew when people talked about hurricanes, they talked about flooding. And she remembered Katrina.

  Growing up in Missouri, she’d experienced flooding from the Mississippi River; lost the few meager belongings she’d had as a small girl, including the prized white jewelry box with the spinning ballerina inside that her father had bought for her when she was born. But losing her possessions, even losing the jewelry box, had been nothing compared to what the storm had really taken from her. It had taken her father, the person who loved her most in the world. The flood had destroyed the small factory where he’d worked canning corned beef; and had destroyed their uninsured home. That flood had left her father unemployed and his family homeless. And a year later, dee
p in the depths of despair, he had hung himself, while Shirley and her brother watched, crying and pleading with him not to do it.

  Shirley hated floods. She hated the very thought of them. And now she sat staring at the television, unable to tear her gaze away from the developing storm.

  Mother Nature was cruel and fickle. In opposition to the order people like her sought to bring to the universe.

  “What are you watching, Miss Cantwise?” Ryan entered her office, knocking and talking at the same time.

  “The Weather Channel,” she said, quickly putting a smile on her face, pretending that the swirling mass didn’t bother her.

  He came fully into her office, closing the door behind him. A scowl marred his brow. “Is that a hurricane?”

  “No.” She shook her head, still smiling. “Just a tropical storm.”

  “So it might become a hurricane?”

  “Doubtful.” She laughed, echoing the snickers she’d heard from the news anchors on the television. “Hurricane season ends in six days. This storm is just a left-over straggler. It should be breaking up over the Atlantic soon.”

  Ryan nodded, his face placid. “Yeah. That seems likely. Do you want me to make plans for an evacuation, just in case?”

  An evacuation would mean Earl leaving, and possibly not coming back. That thought frightened her more than the hurricane. Shirley smiled, shaking her head, taking care not to overdo it. “Good gracious, no. And please don’t say anything to the patients or their family members, or the other staff members.”

  He frowned. “No?”

  “We don’t need people panicking or letting their imaginations get the better of them,” she explained. “If people left here without finishing their training, they could easily be lost to their bad habits and bad judgment once more. We need everyone focused on re-programming the lives of the lost souls who seek shelter here.”

  Ryan nodded, acceptance returning to his face. “Of course, Miss Cantwise. I’ll instruct the staff to shut down the CRC phone lines and observe a week of blocking out communications with the outside world, so they can re-invigorate their focus on our mission.”