Not wanting to sit in that butt-numbing chair, I lean up against the two-way mirror. “So what’s up now?” I ask.
He points to the offending chair. “Sit down.”
I’d normally have given him some push back, but a sleeping backside is less of a hassle than a fight with Sully.
“Your house burned down last night. It’s a clear arson case. The arson team is there investigating, but it’s pretty obvious. The point of origin, accelerant used, and the fire pattern are similar to other cases we have seen related to organized crime. Maybe it’s payback. Maybe they want to make sure whatever your husband had on them burned to the ground. Maybe it’s a reminder that they can always get to you. At this point, we’re not sure, but we’re investigating.”
For once, I don’t have a smart-ass comment. My bravado is all tapped out, and I can’t pretend that I’ve got it all under control anymore. I can only sit in my chair and look at the cracked linoleum tiles.
The circumstances are completely different, but I can’t help feeling déjà vu. I was thirteen when my house burned to the ground, killing my parents. Here I am, thirteen years later, and my life has been turned upside down and inside out all over again.
Lucky number thirteen.
“Come on, Lily. Give me something, here. Some wisecrack so I know you’re okay. Maybe throw an insult or two my way,” Sully says, with a tone that makes me think he’s actually worried about me.
“I‘ve got nothing for you,” I say quietly. “Thank you for telling me in here. I can’t do this in front of the army out there.”
“Do you want to know more details, or do you want to talk about this later?” he asks me.
I pick at a chipped nail. “Is there anything left?” I ask.
“The main house is gone, the pool house and the carriage house are both gone. The fire department got there when the garage caught fire. The shed with all the lawn equipment is fine. I’m pretty sure the cars are salvageable. But when we ran your financials, we found that several of the cars are in default. I’m not sure how all of that will play out. That’s for the bean counters to figure out.”
“It’s hard to imagine it gone. That monstrosity was Frankie’s pride and joy. He loved having parties, showing off the obnoxious opulence.” I try to swallow past the lump in my throat. “I know the money’s going to be a mess. Ash handled it all, so how can it be anything other than a mess? I was only given enough money to manage the household. Ash was in charge of everything else.”
Sully pats me on the shoulder. “I’ll keep you posted as I find out more, okay?”
“Thanks, Sully,” I sigh. The hits just keep on coming. That house had never really felt like home to me. I’d always felt like a guest. It was Franklin’s house, never mine.
If I’m being honest, I’ve felt like a guest just about everywhere since my parents died. I was shuffled from foster home to foster home. It wasn’t until the church took custody of me and sent me to boarding school that I stayed in one place for more than a few months. Boarding school may have been a place to live, but it wasn’t a home.
Because of that, I’ve never gotten too attached to anywhere I live, so I’m not devastated that the house is gone now. But at least it was a place to stay. Everything I own is now ashes, and I have nothing but the clothes on my back.
As I think about it, it
occurs to me that everyone related to me, even if just by marriage, has perished in some horrible way. What are the fucking chances? I must be cursed.
“Lily,” Sully says, snapping me back into reality. “I want you to start thinking about anywhere Ash may have used as a hiding place. My theory is that someone was looking for something or trying to destroy something. If it wasn’t at the house, they’re going to start looking other places, and they’ll start with you. Did he have another office or an apartment? Maybe a safety deposit box? You said he was having affairs. Was he paying for a girlfriend’s place?”
I pull my legs up to my chest. Thinking about Ash’s collection of whores and other nefarious deeds is the last thing I want to do. As much as I want to shut everything out, I don’t have that luxury. The boogeyman will come calling if I don’t come up with some answers. “I can’t think of anything. I often wondered where he was meeting his concubines. If I had to guess, he’d have had a place for himself, something with a rotating door perhaps. He got bored too easily and didn’t care enough to want to keep any one girl housed. Maybe when the accountants go through the money, they’ll find something.”
Agent Cortez knocks on the door. The press conference is about to begin. The official statements make it seem like a simple car accident on a winding country road. Nothing underhanded at all. No mention of the fact that they were both on enough drugs to keep an entire frat house high for a month. Not a word about organized crime. The press goes crazy with questions. I’ve never seen such pandemonium.
Thinking that this’d be a good time to sneak away, I turn to leave. Unconsciously, I look around for my purse. But then I realize that I don’t have a purse. It was at my house. I don’t have a wallet or cell phone. I’ve lost the few pictures left from my childhood. The only thing I have to remember my parents by is the cross I wear. It’s a tiny, gold cross on a thin necklace that my parents gave me for my first communion. I just so happened to wear it the night of the fire, and haven’t taken it off since.
Not knowing where to go or what to do, I return to my interrogation room. The moment the door clicks closed, my knees buckle, and I collapse on the filthy floor and cry. How pathetic is it that this room is the most familiar thing in my life?
Sully finds me some time later. The waterworks are still flowing. He gives me a small smile. “I was waiting for that hard exterior to crack. You’re a tough girl, but no one’s that tough. You’ve had a lot thrown at you over the last week.”
I wipe the tears from my face. “It’s just so damn confusing. I hate Ashton. He’s brought nothing to my life but pain and disappointment, but he’s all I know. We’ve been together for so long, and now… he’s dead. Gone forever. I can’t even yell at him for all the shit he’s put me through. I want to scream at him, slap him until my hand hurts, and then switch to the other hand. But I can’t. Instead, I have to start my whole life over again. It sounds like the money is all gone. The house is gone. I know I can start fresh. I’ve done it before. Hell, I’m a pro now at reinventing myself. But, just because I know I can do it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t really suck.”
He kneels in front of me. “I can tell you’re a survivor. You’re a strong girl. You’re hurt, but you’ll heal, and you’ll rebuild. Lean on Gavin. You’ll be good for each other right now.” He looks down at his watch and says, “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. There’s nothing else you need to do right now. Let’s get you back to the hotel. You need to get some sleep, okay?”
I nod. He holds his hand out and helps me up. As we’re walking out, a young officer chases after us.
“Mrs. Preston! This is for you, from Meredith,” he says as he hands me a duffle bag. That woman is a life saver. Clothes, underwear, a tooth brush. Enough to get me through a few days. Where would I be without her? Sully takes me back to the hotel and orders me not to leave until I’ve gotten some sleep. The police have agreed to pick up the tab on the room for a few more days, until I figure out what to do next.
I climb into bed and pass out.
*******
I wake to the feeling of hot breath on my neck. It scares the hell out of me, and I jump out of bed, ready to kick someone’s ass.
“What’s wrong, Lil?” a very sleepy and now-panicked Gavin says.
“Gavin!” I yell in relief as I throw a pillow at him. “Dammit, Oxford, you scared me to death.” As I really look him over, I see he’s wearing boxers—and nothing else. The sight of him literally takes my breath away. I let out a little cough to hide my reaction. It’s going to be very hard to concentrate with all of those muscles out in the open.
He hol
ds his hands up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I got back a little while ago, and couldn’t bear the thought of going back to my room alone. It’s been such a crap day. I snatched your spare room key earlier when you were gone and I was about to go looking for you. I didn’t think you would mind.” He shakes his head and stands. “I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous. I can go.”
I drop back down onto the bed. “No, it’s fine. You just caught me off-guard. Clearly, I’m still a little jumpy. Plus, it’s been years since I shared a bed with someone.” I pat the other side of the bed. “Take a load off. It’s been a crap day for me as well.”
We lay in bed, talking for hours. He gently strokes my hair as we share the horrors of the day. I may have lost everything that I own, but Gavin had to tell those poor people their child is dead, and he was bombarded by paparazzi. I know it’s probably only going to get worse for him too.
We both cry a little and comfort each other. As we always seem to do, we get sidetracked telling stories that make us laugh. Having him here feels good. Safe. I may not have a home, but at least I have the comfort of his arms for the moment. The fact that I get to run my fingers along his magnificent abs while we vent doesn’t hurt.
After a while, the conversation slows. We’ve discussed so much, and yet there’s so much left to say. The tension built by the thoughts we’re both trying to ignore fills the room. After a few minutes he squeezes me in his arms. “I’m so thankful you’re here,” he whispers in my ear.
I look up to face him, and his eyes are clouded with worry and guilt. “What’s wrong? Besides the obvious, I mean.”
He shakes his head.
“You can tell me.”
“When I was talking to Brooke’s mum, she said that the last time she saw her, she knew Brooke was gone. She may have still been alive, but the person that was there wasn’t her daughter. When Brooke left their house, they resigned themselves to the fact that it was only a matter of time. It’s gut-wrenching to watch a person walk to their grave and know you’re powerless to stop it.”
Brooke’s self-destruction has caused him so much pain and anguish for so long. It’s hard to hear him talk about the cross he’s borne for her. I didn’t know the woman, but from what I’ve learned about people living with addiction from my life with Ash, she was probably selfish and conniving and unworthy of the mound of guilt he’s burying himself under. I have zero empathy for her. It may make me a bitch, but that’s how I feel.
“Much like them, I feel like I’ve been mourning Brooke for years. Which is why my feelings now are so befuddling. My wife has just died, and yet I lie here with you. I spent the day looking forward to coming here and seeing you. Seeing your smile, hearing your laugh. God, it’s the perfect elixir for all this heartache. What kind of selfish wanker have I become?” He sits up and moves toward the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands.
I pull up behind him but keep my distance. “You don’t have to feel guilty, and you aren’t being selfish. What we’ve been through is almost insurmountable. A bigger challenge than most people face in the totality of their lives. And we’ve been through it together. It’s only natural that we’ve leaned on each other, learned to appreciate each other. You’ve changed my life in this short period of time, and if you walk out the door and I never see you again, a part of me will always love you for what you’ve done for me. How you’ve been there for me.” I rest my chin on his shoulder. “What’s developed between us has nothing to do with Ash or Brooke except that they’re the reason we’re both here. We’re just two people trying to make sense of a messy situation.”
“I care for you more than I should, and that puts this dark cloud around the first honest connection I’ve had with another person in … in as far back as I can remember. You’ve become this bright light amidst the years of darkness I’ve been in. I don’t want to feel bad about that.”
“Then don’t.” I place a gentle kiss his on shoulder. My intention is to be comforting, as he’s clearly upset. But as my lips touch his soft skin, my intentions become less pure. One kiss becomes two, and then three. With each kiss, I feel my lust grow. I slowly kiss my way from his shoulder to his neck. I run my fingertips slowly up and down his stomach and across his chest.
I feel his heart pounding as his breathing becomes faster and heavier. A quiet moan escapes him when I nibble on his ear. After about thirty seconds, he abruptly turns around and pulls my mouth to his with a passion I’ve never felt before. His kisses are intense and seductive. He teases me with his tongue, which ignites my excitement. With each kiss, I long for more, but I’m hesitant to push too far.
Gavin’s hand moves from my hair down my neck. He slides it down the side of my rib cage, gently tracing my breast en route. My whole body shivers. He’s still only touching over my clothes, but his hands on me send a jolt straight down to my core.
Our kissing becomes frantic, as though we can’t possibly get enough of each other. His hands wander from the small of my back across my stomach. My skin feels as if it’s on fire. Each time he touches me, it both soothes the ache and inflames me more.
Gavin’s hands make paths across my stomach, as though he’s debating if he should go further. When his fingertips brush the side of my breast again, I moan and arch my back, giving him the green light. His thumbs graze my nipples through my shirt, and my whole body starts to tingle. Never in my life have I been this turned on from a PG-13 make out session.
His hands slide down my body to my thighs. Starting behind my knees, Gavin’s fingertips make long strokes up the backs of my thighs. He slowly moves his hands around to the front of my thighs, gently tracing up the length of each one, as if he is trying to make it to my apex but isn’t quite ready. As Gavin gets closer to my center, my body craves his touch even more. It’s pleasure masquerading as torture.
His fingers make it to the outside of my boy shorts. He runs a finger along the seam before allowing his fingers to just barely cross the barrier. My body is crying for him to touch me as his fingers slowly tease the very top of my leg but don’t yet reach my center. Finally he moves to touch me there, his fingers brushing up against my entrance... and the fire alarm goes off.
“Bloody hell! You must be fucking kidding me!” he screams into a pillow. We look at each other and laugh. “Looks like we set the fire alarm off,” he says, giving me a playful glance.
We both get dressed and exit the building, only to find out it was a false alarm. Some fraternity prank. At this point, we realize we’re both starving and decide to get a late dinner. The temperature has finally cooled off thanks to today’s late-afternoon thunderstorms. For the first time in weeks, the night air isn’t oppressed by heat and humidity. The perfect night to stroll around the city. We walk to The Burger Joint down the street. I haven’t eaten much in the past few days, so I pack away a cheeseburger, fries, onion rings, and a chocolate shake. I introduce him to the deliciousness that is dipping your fries in your milkshake. Odd but delectable.
“You aren’t a shy eater, are you?” he asks as I polish off the rest of my shake.
I point a fry at him. “Shut it, Oxford. I now have some pent up sexual tension, and I’m hoping the chocolate will help relieve it.”
“We do seem to be cursed, don’t we?” He laughs. “Aren’t fraternity brothers supposed to promote sex, not prevent it?”
“I think the word you are looking for is cock-blocking. And, in my experience, frat brothers are only interested in sex that directly concerns them. If they aren’t involved, they might as well spoil it for everyone.”
We both laugh and then go quiet for a moment. I drag an onion ring through the ketchup. “So, is that what we were about to do?” I ask, my voice dripping with curiosity.
I think I’ve caught him off-guard because Gavin blushes and then stammers. It’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. “Well, I don’t know about that,” he says, flustered.
“You’re really cute when you’re embarrassed,” I say
with a smile. This makes him blush even more. It’s strange to see someone so stunningly handsome blush. It’s like hearing a dog meow. It just doesn’t go together.
He wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I don’t know where things were going today. I wasn’t really thinking at all. The moment carried me away. Being around you, I get simply primal. It would have been proper to keep our distance.”
I wink. “Where’s the fun in being proper?”
He pauses for a moment, looking pensive. He points at me. “You started it,” he declares. “It was you! Not me! It was you and your shoulder kisses. You’re the naughty one trying to steal my virtue.”
“Yup,” I admit. “You’d best remember that! I’m not sure I can show such restraint again!”
I can see the wheels turning in his mind, and he gets a mischievous grin on his face. “Can you tell me what that would look like exactly?”
I throw a fry at him. “Come on, oh virtuous one. Let’s get going. Oh, and Gavin?”
“Yes?”
“Can you say naughty again?” That accent makes me wild.
He leans in and whispers “naughty” in my ear in a seductive tone and then kisses my neck. If it were possible to melt, I would be a puddle on the floor.
We walk back to the hotel slowly, just enjoying the night. Despite the late hour, there’s still a number of people out and about. The conversation eventually steers to the topic of his favorite places in London. He keeps chatting on, but I don’t hear a thing he says. All I can hear is the pop of my protective bubble bursting.
“Gavin,” I interrupt him. “Do you know when you’re going to go back? I mean, I’m guessing that’s what’s going to happen next, right? You have to go back to London?”
“I haven’t been thinking about it, but I need to start. Brooke’s family will be holding a private ceremony for her funeral, but we decided that I shouldn’t attend. It would just bring in the media circus, and they don’t deserve that. As of now they have anonymity, and I’d like to do everything I can to keep it that way.”
When Fates Collide Page 9