Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection

by Parker, Kylie

  “Don’t even think about it, asshole!” She yelled, pointing the gun up at him, as he reached for his own weapon. “Drop it, or I swear to God, I’m going to blow your fucking brains out!”

  The stranger then slowly pulled his gun out of his belt and dropped it in front of him.

  “Kick it over here and then you get over here!” Michelle commanded. He reluctantly complied, as she rose. She took two steps back, maintaining a tight grip on the weapon. “There’s a pair of handcuffs in her pocket. Tie yourself to the radiator.”

  “Cut me loose.” James said in his tension filled baritone as Maureen’s bodyguard bent down to locate the handcuffs.

  “Wait until he does what I said.” Michelle urged James to have some patience, her breath short.

  “There was no uncle, was there?” He wondered. “This is her place.”

  “I’m really sorry, James.” Her voice lowered further, as the man passed him by. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He whispered, looking away from her, as the stranger did as he had been told.

  “Just another betrayal: just another woman greedy enough to agree to such a horrible plan. I think I’m living in a nightmare. You shouldn’t be surprised, James. You’ve seen it all before. You shouldn’t have left the mountain: not for Olivia; not for Michelle; not for anyone.”

  “She deserves the worst for what she did.” Michelle stated, releasing his hands from their bounds. “But, I still haven’t figured out how to punish her.”

  “Michelle…” James croaked. “Who killed Laurel? Do you know his name?”

  “Daniel Markham.” She responded, moving around him. “I overheard her talking on the phone with him.”

  “Call the police.” He advised, as she cut his ankles loose. “Don’t give them your name. Just tell them you know who killed her and who paid him to take that poor girl out.”

  “What about you?” Michelle inquired, as they both stood up. “What are you going to do?”

  “Try to forget.” James let out a desperate whisper, struggling to hold on to his temper. “About you… About her…”

  “James…”

  “Get out of my sight.” He grumbled, clenching his jaw. “I never want to see you again: ever. What a waste. What a big, fucking waste…”

  32

  Utterly disgusted by people and their tactics, James rejected the idea of returning to his hotel. Just as had been the case with Olivia, he would leave the city behind in a hurry, eager to go back to the safety of his cabin. Still, this time, there was something very different: For the first time in his career, someone he had worked with had let him down. Every other artist had valued his work and showed him the necessary respect. Of course, they had had a few quarrels and some minor disagreements, but, in the end, things had worked out just fine.

  The next morning, it occurred to him that he had not seen Helen or her parents the night before. He had no idea whether they had attended the concert and with everything that had been going on, he had completely forgotten about them. Therefore, he decided to go over to the supermarket. Just before he started his car though, someone tapped his fingers on the roof of his SUV. It was Rick and he was not alone. Howard Peterson was with him. Rick was about to speak, but Howard gently pushed him away.

  “Good morning, son.” He said. “I need to have a word with you.”

  “Can’t it wait?” James squinted up at him. “I need to go buy some supplies.”

  “I just need a few minutes.” Howard assured, opening his door. “It’s about last night.”

  “No shit.” James hummed. “You never visit me here, Mr. Peterson. What made you want to come over?”

  “Michelle did.” Peterson maintained. “She told me everything this morning, before she tried to quit.”

  “Everything?” Suspicion was lingering in James’ gaze. “She tried to quit?”

  “Yes.” Peterson said with a firm nod.

  “Maureen Ellis was married to a German oil tycoon.” Rick interjected. “He died last year. She reached out to Michelle on Facebook. She said she liked her dancing. Long story short, she promised to make her famous. Anyway, about two months ago, Jonathan Russell, Atlas CEO had an accident. He’s still in a coma. Roger Duncan was appointed temporary CEO. He’s Maureen’s cousin. He bypassed board approval and…”

  “Hostile takeover: Ellis bought Atlas from right under their noses.” Peterson explained.

  “Why are you telling me all this,” James wondered? “Who cares?”

  “That’s what she told me, son.” Peterson lowered his tone. “I came here to apologize to you. Michelle did what you told her to do. She called the cops. Both Ellis and her hitman were arrested this morning. If it hadn’t been for Michelle…”

  “I wouldn’t have been there at all if it hadn’t been for Michelle!” James cried, feeling his blood pumping through his veins. “So don’t tell me you can understand what I’ve been through. You can’t. You just can’t!”

  “You’re right.” Peterson sighed. “I can’t. She also told me what you said to her. She was pretty devastated, James. I felt for her. That’s why I need to ask you a favor. Write some more songs for her. Sure, she wants to quit, but I’m sure you can talk her out of it.”

  James was on the verge of yet another anger outburst. His boss’ request had sent his adrenaline into the ozone layer. He would not dignify it with an answer; instead, he turned his attention to Rick.

  “Rick, how did last night go?” He asked. “What did people think?”

  “Fucking amazing,” Rick smiled. “Michelle’s video has more than 30,000 views already. Reports on last night are all over the internet. People loved it. They are also speculating on the identity of the pianist.”

  His friend’s words put a bitter smile on his face. James suspected Peterson’s motive, but now, it was crystal clear to him.

  “Howard, do you think I was born yesterday?” He said, his voice reeking with sarcasm. “Are you expecting me to believe that you came here because you felt sorry for her? What a load of bullshit… why can’t you be honest, just for once? Come on, Howard. Say it. ‘We think we’re going to make a lot of money off of you and her’.”

  “Yes, we do, James.” Howard admitted. “It’s called ‘doing business’.”

  “Business…” James groaned, clenching his fists, once again trying hard to control his temper. “Put yourself in my shoes. You’ve just discovered that Michelle had been plotting with someone to throw your ass in jail. That same someone put a gun to your head last night. Would you work with Michelle again?”

  James’ question was met by silence. Howard even tore his gaze away from him, tightening his mouth.

  “That’s what I thought.” James gave a sarcastic nod. “Now, get the hell out of here, before I really lose my temper.”

  “Hey, that’s your boss you’re talking to, man!” Rick attempted a businesslike tone.

  “Not anymore.” James shook his head sideways. “I quit.”

  “What?” Rick opened his eyes wide in disbelief. Peterson didn’t even flinch.

  “You heard me.” James’ voice became even stiffer. “No more ‘Jimmy X’. We’re done.”

  “James, don’t…”

  “He’s angry.” Howard interrupted. “Give him some time. He’ll get over it. Think about your decision, James. I’ll be waiting for your call. Let’s go, Rick.”

  “I can’t believe the nerve of that son of a bitch. And Rick, what the hell was that all about? I get it; you’re trying to protect your job. Friendship my ass: I’m pretty sure you were following orders yesterday, you moron. Like you always have…”

  Just when James was about to get back in his car, he noticed Helen’s pickup truck on the uphill road. He leaned his back against it and folded his arms across his chest, watching as Rick drove off in his Mercedes.

  “Hiiiii!” Helen sang, with a toothy grin on her face, as her truck rolled to a halt. “Nice to see you back!”<
br />
  “Hi, Helen,” he replied while he winked at her. “Did you come to the show last night?”

  “Of course I did!” She exclaimed. “My folks couldn’t make it. Can I talk to you for a second?”

  “Sure.” James agreed. “Come on up.”

  33

  “Ok, I’m confused,” Helen confessed, as James handed her a mug of hot coffee. “I know I heard your voice last night. I think I saw you play the piano. But your name wasn’t on the poster outside. Why?”

  “First of all, did you like the song?” He used a rather serious tone.

  “It was so beautiful.” Her voice was filled with admiration, as she raised the mug to her lips. “Michelle Adams has got the best voice. You were great, too. I cried: a lot.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.” James softened his voice. “I wrote it.”

  Helen’s surprise was so big that coffee came out of her nose.

  “Oh, my God,” she responded, speaking too fast and wiping her mouth. “What are you talking about? I read online that…” She paused and slapped the palm of her hand to her forehead, closing her eyes. “You’re Jimmy X?”

  “Yeah,” he affirmed. “You can tell your parents. Just don’t tell anyone else, alright?”

  “Holy God…” a deep sigh escaped her. “Everything makes sense now.”

  “Helen: it’s important.” He raised his tone, slightly. “Keep this a secret.”

  “I will. Wait a minute,” her eyes snapped open. “Are you telling me that I’ve been listening to Jimmy X playing guitar and piano all this time? That I…” she faltered, “kissed him the other night?”

  “Can we not make a big deal out of this?” James made his voice sound sweeter. “Please?”

  “But it is a big deal!” Her voice turned into a high-pitched squeal. “I mean, Jimmy X lives in Shandaken?”

  “I was referring to the kiss,” he pointed out. “Anyway, now you know.”

  “That’s an even bigger deal,” Helen said in a soft voice, as she gazed deep into his eyes. “That was the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

  “You were drunk,” James muttered. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage.”

  “Wait a minute. I kissed you,” she whispered. “You didn’t take advantage.”

  He felt the warmth of her fingertips crawl up his knuckles. Her hand rested on top of his, as she leaned in closer to him.

  “This is a mistake, girl,” he grumbled, staring down at her pale hand.

  “Will you relax already?” Helen protested. “I still can’t believe I’m sitting on Jimmy X’s couch.”

  “Actually…” James exhaled hard. “I stopped being ‘Jimmy X’ a few minutes ago. I quit.”

  “What? Oh no,” she softly moaned while tilting her head. “Why would you do that?”

  “It’s a long story,” he responded, running his hand through his hair. “Let’s just say I’m disappointed in people.”

  “So?” Helen shrugged. “You’re going to give up, just like that?”

  “I don’t know.” James sighed, “I need some time: lots of time, really.”

  “People disappoint each other all the time,” she said while attempting a louder tone. “Friends, family, boyfriends… It’s in our nature I think. You shouldn’t quit because of that.”

  “I lost my faith in people a long time ago, Helen.” James stated with a hint of sadness in his voice. “My job kept me going. Working made me feel alive, useful, better about myself. Until last night, I thought I’d found a talented singer and a nice person to work with. I was wrong.”

  “If you really have lost faith in people, then why are you even talking to me?” She wondered, a touch of frustration in her girly voice.

  “It’s different with you.” He declared. “It’s…”

  “How is it different?” Helen interjected. “I’m human, aren’t I?”

  “You’ve been good to me.” James said. “So have your folks.”

  “So you think we’ll never disappoint you?” Her question embarrassed him. He could not come up with a rebuttal. “Okay, forget I asked. Why don’t you tell me more about that song from last night? I really love song trivia.”

  “Ah, Olivia…” He let out a nostalgic sigh. “It’s a short story of love, lust, greed and betrayal. It plays out as a monologue. A man looks up in the sky and just…” He paused. “Pours his heart out for the woman he loved, hoping that the pain inside will fade someday. Michelle wrote the music. What a shame....”

  “A shame?” Helen squinted at him. “Why?”

  “Never mind:” he waved his hand in front of his face, still sensing her hand on his. “Seriously, stop doing that,” James complained, even though part of him enjoyed her touch.

  “It just feels a little too good,” she said while smiling and caressing his skin. “Especially when I know that I’m touching Jimmy X’s hand. Look at you. Most writers I see on TV or online are just so smug, and so pompous that I want to punch them in the face. But then there’s you; you’re modest, kind…” She leaned in even more, her voice a husky whisper, “and absolutely delicious.”

  “Stay back, girl.” He said, his breath getting shorter.

  “Oh, I wish I could just kiss those lips again…” Helen whimpered, “but, I can’t.”

  “… because I’m asking you not to?” James wondered out loud, as she slowly leaned back.

  “No.” She replied. “Meet me at the ‘Brown Oak’. I’ll tell you all about it. I promise I won’t do anything smart. Say, nine o’clock?”

  “Why can’t you tell me now?” He inquired.

  “It’s complicated.” She said with a grin. “Are you coming or not?”

  “Fine,” James agreed. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  34

  James was somewhat relieved that Helen had not kissed him. He was too defenseless to say “no” to her. Most likely, they would have ended up having sex. He liked her, but, in his mind, it was not a matter of physical attraction. His broken heart was still healing; he could not jump into a new relationship so fast. More than that, Shandaken was a very small town. Sooner or later, someone would see them together and people would start to gossip. James hated it when others discussed his personal life.

  Helen’s advances had not taken him by surprise. He could still recall the silly things she used to say to him at the supermarket and her passionate kiss on the terrace. Her negative answer had puzzled and intrigued him. He couldn’t imagine why she “couldn’t” kiss him. After all, they were both single and she had admitted having feelings for him.

  “Now you have me curious, girl. Where are you?” He thought to himself, his eyes sweeping the spacious bar for Helen, while Eric Clapton’s “Layla” sang into his ears. She was sat at the table in the upper left corner; she even waved at him.

  “This had better be good.” He said, peeling off his coat.

  “Good evening to you, too,” she teased. “I’ve ordered you a beer. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t.” James murmured, sitting himself across from her. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Well…” A cunning smile spread across her face. “I ran into Olivia last night.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” He questioned her, while he narrowed his eyes, looking for any lies.

  “Nope,” she shook her head sideways. “Saw her up close and personal: brunette, 5’6”, big boobs. I think everyone saw her; I was just polite enough to talk to her.”

  “Alright,” James sighed, realized she wasn’t fooling around, and tried to overcome his shock. “Tell me everything.”

  “I was getting out of the music hall, when I overheard someone saying ‘Come on, Liv.’ A few feet away from the entrance, I saw this tall redhead, hugging some woman. She was crying and I mean loud. Most people just stared. I seemed to be the only one curious enough to ask her what was so painful that she was crying. She told me who she was: Olivia Ralston. We started talking and, the next thing I knew, we were in a bar. After a c
ouple of drinks, she told me everything. I really felt sorry for her; actually, for the both of you. We totally hit it off. She’s a great person. I spent the night at her place. She asked me to give you this.”

  At that moment, Helen pulled a thick, white envelope out of her coat and gave it to him. James pried it open with clumsy fingers, pulled the letter out, and began reading.

  “My dear James,

  Forgive me for doing this. I feel like I have no other choice. I know… trusting a total stranger with a letter for the man you love looks desperate. But, I am desperate, and Helen looks like a nice girl.

  Despite what you told me, you did work with Michelle Adams. I don’t know if anything happened between you two, and it’s really none of my business. I just hope you continue to write songs like the one you guys played last night. My God… The word ‘beautiful’ is not enough to describe it. And when I heard you singing my name… I cried. I cried very hard. I couldn’t believe it. All that pain in your voice shook me up so badly that I wanted to just… storm out of the hall. But, I couldn’t. I just had to stay till the end. I had to enjoy every second of it. No one’s ever written a song for me, especially not one as heartbreaking as that was. I can still hear the lyrics in my head. I can still remember the eight times you said my name. I’ll never forget that: ever.

  You have every right to be mad at me. You’re right; everything that night was pretty much made up, until the point where we started playing music together. You made me forget why I was in your cabin. You were so focused, so passionate and the chemistry between us was just unbelievable… it felt like I’d been playing with you for years. The best part of that night, though, was our kiss. It left me breathless. I wanted more: so much more. I was really bummed when you asked me to go to bed. I couldn’t force the issue, though. You looked really upset and we’d probably have ended up arguing with each other.