Last Kiss Goodbye

by Rita Herron

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she called.

  “I’ll secure all the doors and windows before I go. Don’t answer them for anyone.”

  “I’m okay, Matt, really.”

  For a brief second, he leaned against the door, listening to the splash of water. Every cell in his body burned, urging him to open the door and join her. But thankfully, the rational side of his brain throttled that more basic nature. “My cell number is on the table. I should be back in ten minutes. Call me if you need me.”

  She agreed, and he checked the windows and doors, then rushed outside. More rain hovered on the horizon, the swirling wind and dark clouds a reminder that there was no relief in sight. He glanced back at the cabin, searching the perimeter with his gaze before he drove away. Anxious about being away from Ivy, he phoned the diner and ordered two of the daily specials to go. Barbecue and Brunswick stew. He hoped to hell Ivy wasn’t a vegetarian, and realized he should have asked. There were a lot of things he didn’t know about her. Her favorite food. Favorite color. The type of music she listened to. All trivial things that he wanted to explore. All personal…

  But the more he knew about Ivy, the more he liked her.

  And the more he wanted her.

  FANTASIES OF MAKING LOVE with Matt played through Ivy’s mind, igniting a maelstrom of need. How could she want something from him that she’d never even considered with another man?

  Because you’re letting down your defenses. Remember, your heart is involved. Protect it.

  The revelation shattered her fantasies, just as the chill of the bathwater hit her. All her life, she’d closed herself off from others, the pain of losing her parents the catalyst for locking herself in a self-imposed prison. Miss Nellie had maintained the same type of distance, probably due to her own traumatic loss. The two of them had been perfect together, coexisting but never really forging a close enough bond that it would destroy them when they parted.

  Ivy didn’t want to feel this way about Matt. Didn’t welcome the gut-wrenching pain she would experience when he left her. And he would leave. Everyone she’d ever loved had left….

  But she felt helpless to stop the need building inside her.

  Maybe if she wasn’t so frightened of what she would find in her past, she could have a future. But what about Matt? Would he even consider building a life with someone who’d stood silently by while he suffered in prison? How could he possibly want to be with such a coward?

  Trembling, Ivy climbed from the tub, dried off, donned a thick terry-cloth robe and combed her tangled hair. The bruises on her neck looked stark in the mirror. Another image replaced hers: her mother’s face. Her bruised cheek. A swollen eye. A fractured wrist.

  Ivy closed her eyes, shutting out those pictures and focusing on the good memories.

  Her mother singing softly to her at night, promising that they would have a better life. She’d sounded so convincing.

  Ivy opened her eyes, contemplating the possibilities. Maybe her mother had planned to leave her father. If he’d discovered her intentions, he would have lost his temper. Maybe killed her. But who had murdered him?

  Matt had mentioned that someone had wanted to buy the property by the junkyard. Had her mother planned to use that money to escape with her and start a new life? Something nagged at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what was bothering her.

  Her cell phone rang, a jarring sound that caused her to jump. It was probably Matt calling to check on her. He’d been so protective.

  She dug the mobile unit from her purse and checked the number. George.

  Sighing, and half-tempted to not respond, she stared at the number. But she couldn’t keep avoiding him, not with her business at stake.

  “Hi, George.”

  “Ivy, my God, I thought you weren’t going to answer again.”

  His frantic voice surprised her. “What’s wrong?”

  “I saw the news report. They found a body in Kudzu Hollow. There’s a cult of kids there performing sacrificial rituals. And another woman was murdered.” He wheezed a shaky breath. “That place sounds dangerous.”

  “I’m fine, George. I’m faxing over some photos and my notes on Lady Bella Rue.”

  “Ivy,” George said softly. “You have enough for the piece. Please come home. I’m worried about your safety.”

  She gritted her teeth, wishing she could return his feelings, but Matt’s face filled her mind and heart, not George’s. “I’ll come back in a few days. I…still have some things to resolve here. And I want to visit my old homestead.”

  “The place where your parents were killed?” he asked in an incredulous voice. “Jesus Christ, Ivy, you don’t need to do that. You have a life here in Chattanooga. And I care about you.”

  “I appreciate your concern, George, but I can’t leave now. Not yet.” Refusing to wait for a reply, and unwilling to argue further, she disconnected.

  The phone trilled a second later. Feeling guilty, and expecting George to have redialed, she hit the button. “George—”

  “Hello, Ivy.”

  She froze at the sound of a man’s voice—a strangely familiar one. Husky. Low. Hoarse. Muffled.

  “I warned you, Ivy.”

  In the background, music trilled: “Here Comes Santa Claus….” The hair on the back of her neck prickled, the image of the broken Santas flashing back. “Who is this?”

  “You should have listened. Now I have no choice but to take care of you the way I did your mother.” A nasty laugh echoed over the phone just before the line went silent.

  MATT KEPT HIS HEAD DOWN as he paid for the food, well aware that every pair of eyes in the diner pierced his back. Whispers and echoes of disbelief and distrust fed the charged atmosphere. Talk of the body the sheriff had uncovered and the murder of Dora Leigh Werth had everyone bordering on hysteria.

  “Heard there’s a cult of devil worshipers down by the river,” someone whispered.

  “Poor Dora Leigh’s boy. Wonder who’ll take care of him? Just awful the way his mama was murdered.”

  “And what do you think about that body Sheriff Boles found in the woods?”

  “I don’t know, but it all started when that Stanton girl and Mahoney boy came back to town.”

  “Sheriff ought to run ’em both out of Kudzu Hollow.”

  Anger knotted Matt’s insides. He was tempted to remind them that their own children were up to evil, but he managed to rein in his temper. Reacting would only blacken his own bad reputation.

  Lady Bella Rue and Talulah were seated in the corner, the old root doctor’s fingers worrying the mojo around her neck, while Talulah smiled and fluttered her fingers in a wave.

  Great. All he needed to feed the rumor mill more was for the locals to think he was fanning the covers at Red Row.

  And if that talk reached Ivy?

  A frisson of unease tightened his gut. He didn’t like leaving her alone for a minute, not in this godforsaken town.

  His boots pounded on the wooden floor as he crossed the room, and just as he reached for the doorknob, the door sprang open. His mother stood beneath the awning, beside the former sheriff, Lumbar.

  Her mouth flopped open, her eyes widening in fear. Lumbar pressed a protective hand to her waist, and Matt followed the movement. Of all the confounded surprises! His mother was seeing Larry Lumbar. For a moment, Matt was so shocked his legs wobbled.

  “Maybe we’d better leave,” his mother whispered.

  Lumbar grunted. “He’s the one going to leave.”

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” Matt said, finally recovering, although old hurts and pains knifed through him. “I didn’t realize you were friends with the man who put me in jail.”

  She swayed and clutched Lumbar’s arm. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

  “It’s a public place, why shouldn’t I be?” he growled.

  “Stay away from your mother,” Lumbar barked. “You may have been released from prison, but we all know you’re no good
. Soon you’ll be back in the pen with the animals where you belong.”

  Emotions pummeled Matt. Anger. Hatred. The thirst for vengeance.

  But he’d learned one thing while caged up—how to control that temper. Bottle it for later.

  It was the only way he’d survived on the inside. And now it seemed the only way he’d survive on the outside. Because if he unleashed his fists on Lumbar, he wouldn’t stop until he’d killed the man, and then he would end up incarcerated again.

  His cell phone trilled, and he flipped it open, his glare still fixed on Lumbar.

  “Matt?”

  “Ivy, what is it?”

  “Someone just called and…threatened me.”

  Panic pumped through Matt, and he pushed past Lumbar, out the door. “I’m on my way. Lock the doors and don’t open them for anyone but me, Ivy.” He sprinted toward his SUV, jumped inside and started the engine. His heart pounded as he sped toward the cabin.

  IVY PACED BACK AND FORTH across the small room, stewing over the man’s warning, trying to place his voice, figure out if she knew him. That song haunted her. He had to have known about her mother’s collection.

  What had his exact words been? “I’ll take care of you just like I did your mother.”

  If he had killed her mom, then that meant her father hadn’t. Ivy sighed and clutched her robe around her neck. Relief spilled through her. At least she didn’t have to go through life thinking that one of her parents had murdered the other.

  A small consolation for a life without a family.

  Something scraped against the window. In the back, a noise reverberated against the thin wood of the cabin. Ivy jumped, certain someone was outside. What if he broke in before Matt arrived?

  She needed a weapon. Her mind raced as she visually swept the room. She grabbed the fire poker, ready to use it if she needed to.

  Tires squealed, and she ran to the window and peered outside, praying it was Matt, not the caller. The fog and rain made visibility difficult, but when the car lights flicked off, she recognized the SUV. Relief poured through her and she dropped the poker.

  As soon as Ivy opened the door, Matt dragged her into his arms.

  “God, Ivy, are you okay?”

  She nodded against his chest. The leather of his jacket felt cold from the wind, but the warmth of his body found hers, and she nestled closer as he stroked her back. His breathing sounded choppy, his chest rising and falling against hers. The scents of rain, fear and need enveloped her.

  “Thank you for coming, Matt. I didn’t know what to do.”

  Slowly, he threaded one hand behind her head into her damp hair and pulled away, searching her eyes.

  “Tell me exactly what he said.”

  Ivy grappled for control and cleared her throat. “He said that he’d warned me, that he was going to take care of me just like he did my mother. And that music was playing in the background….”

  Matt’s eyes narrowed. “What music?”

  “‘Here Comes Santa Claus.’ Don’t you see, Matt? He knew about my mother’s collection of Santas. And he practically admitted that he killed her.” She hesitated. “That means my father didn’t.”

  Matt clasped her hands, seeming to understand the significance of her comment. “Did you read the caller’s number?”

  “It was an unknown again.”

  “He’s probably calling from a throwaway cell. Makes it nearly impossible to trace.”

  “What are we going to do now?” Ivy asked.

  Matt caressed her cheek with his hand, but his gaze strayed to her neck, to the bruises from the boy’s fingers, and anger tightened his jaw.

  “We’ll find out who it is. But for now, you need some rest. This has been a harrowing day for you.”

  “I’m just glad you’re here, Matt. I…don’t want to be alone.”

  “You won’t be,” he whispered. “I’m staying with you.”

  Their gazes locked, questions standing between them. Heat surfaced. The need to touch Matt nearly overwhelmed her.

  Matt cleared his throat. “If he calls back, I’ll answer.”

  “What if he tries to break in?” Ivy asked.

  A muscle ticked in Matt’s jaw. “Then I’ll kill him.”

  The conviction in his cold statement shook Ivy to the core. But he was only trying to protect her.

  “I don’t want to cause you trouble, Matt. Maybe we should call the sheriff.”

  “I don’t trust A.J., Ivy.” His gaze bore into hers as he twirled a strand of her damp hair around his finger. “Do you trust me?”

  Matt had just threatened to kill a man. She shouldn’t trust him.

  But he would never hurt her. At least not physically.

  “Ivy?”

  The pain and uncertainty in his voice tore her heart in two. She’d tried to maintain her walls, but somehow Matt had managed to scale them. She couldn’t hurt him. Even if he broke her heart.

  She cupped his jaw in her hands, unable to deny what she wanted. What she thought they both wanted.

  “Yes, Matt, I trust you.” With a whisper of a sigh, she rose on her tiptoes, pulled his face closer, pressed her lips to his and kissed him.

  His mouth felt warm, and he tasted of coffee and man, a heady combination. The faint memory of the boy trying to strangle her threatened to shatter the moment, but adrenaline surged through Ivy, reminding her that she had almost died earlier. She didn’t want to go to her grave without knowing how it felt to be close to Matt. And doing without the splendor of his kiss would be like dying.

  MATT CLOSED HIS EYES, sinking every raging emotion into the kiss. Vying for tenderness slowed him only slightly. He wanted Ivy, had to know she was safe and alive in his arms. God, he’d almost lost her tonight. And now another threat…

  A moan reverberated from her throat, and a surge of white-hot excitement shot through him. He ran his hands over her silky hair, drew her closer, probed her lips apart with his tongue and tasted the inside of her mouth. She was warm and sweet and delicious, like honey. His heart pounded, his body pulsing with raw desire, and he ran his hands down her shoulders, lowered his mouth to nibble at her neck, the sensitive lobe of her ear, then beyond her collarbone to tug the edges of her robe apart with his teeth. She sighed and dropped her head back, offering him deeper access, and he opened her robe, his chest tightening at the sight of her bare breasts. Pink rosebud nipples strained toward him. He cupped her glorious mounds in his hands, savoring the weight of them.

  Her nipples tightened, and his mouth watered.

  Reminding himself that this was Ivy, he lowered his head, then pressed tender kisses along the curve of her breasts, slowly inching his way toward her nipple. She groaned and her legs buckled, so he braced her with his other hand, still flicking his tongue southward until he drew her nipple into his mouth.

  “Oh, Matt…” She shoved her hands into his hair. The thrill of her offering nearly undid him. He suckled her deeply, aching to throw her down and ravage her, but she tasted so sweet and was so beautiful that he ordered himself to fight the animal within him.

  She wriggled her hips restlessly, and he moved to the other breast, feasting on it until she panted against him, whispering his name in a breathless sigh. “Matt…”

  He raised his head and searched her glazed eyes, smiled at the haze of satisfaction and desire lighting them.

  Then he lifted her, carried her to the bed and laid her gently on the sheets. Her robe parted, and he glimpsed heaven between her slender thighs. God, she was so perfect.

  “Ivy, we should stop now. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  “Please, Matt, don’t torture me, then stop like that.”

  “You deserve more than this, Ivy,” he said in a gruff voice. “You’re frightened, vulnerable. I’m…an ex-con.”

  “You’re the man I want to be with tonight. And prison was a mistake.”

  But it was still very much a part of him. The ugliness. The things he’d done.

 
He couldn’t touch Ivy with that ugliness.

  A sudden memory of his first night in prison gripped him, and he shuddered. Sweat exploded on his face and his stomach heaved.

  Shame washed over him and he spun away, trying desperately to banish the images. He’d only been a kid. Some of the brutes inside had decided to teach him a lesson. Break him in…

  Matt’s lungs suddenly closed, and he choked on the bile rising to his throat.

  “Matt…”

  The present faded, blending into the past. The beatings. The…other. It had only been one night, and then he’d learned how to fight dirty….

  But he couldn’t forget it. Couldn’t tell Ivy.

  “I…I’m sorry, Ivy.”

  Pain and grief stabbing at him, he yanked himself away from her, strode toward the door, then flung it open. He gasped for fresh air as he slammed the door behind him. But he couldn’t leave Ivy alone.

  He couldn’t go back inside and make love to her, either.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE COLDNESS THAT SWEPT over Ivy kept her immobile for several seconds after Matt left the cabin, a coldness that had nothing to do with the hailing rain and heavy winds beating against the cabin. What had just happened? One minute she and Matt had been kissing, and he’d touched her with such want and hunger that she’d almost come apart in his arms. The next minute, pain and anguish had overridden his desires, and he’d run away as if he couldn’t stand to look at her.

  The mood had changed as soon as she’d mentioned prison….

  Did he still blame her for his conviction?

  Aching from the loss, she gathered the robe around her and belted it, then slid off the bed, wondering what to do. She still wanted Matt. Craved his erotic touch. Her body burned from just thinking about the way his mouth had claimed her breasts. And she’d felt Matt’s hard length pushing against her. Had seen the need in his eyes and heard the hiss of his breath as he’d prolonged the pleasure.

  Confused, and worried that she had done something wrong, she pushed open the door and searched the darkness. The wind rattled the tree branches, spewing rain onto the porch. Through the murky gray surrounding her, she spotted Matt leaning over the porch rail in the corner, staring out into the darkness. His back was to her, and his head was down as if he was engaged in a silent emotional battle.