Wicked Fascination

by J. M. Brister

  There was silence at the other end of the line. A long silence.

  “You said, Brian's been feeding you?” He asked her, his voice demanding.

  She took a deep breath and said, “Yes, is there a problem?”

  There was much grumbling on the other end of the line. Freya knew that he was not pleased with this information.

  “Freya, he hasn't tried to...” Her father's voice trailed off.

  “No!” She told him firmly. “He's just being nice.”

  “Not too nice, I hope,” he grumbled. “I mean, I meant for him to keep an eye on you, but...”

  Something sank in Freya's heart.

  “What do you mean, 'keep an eye on me'?”

  “Just check on you. Make sure you're okay. I guess that's what he's doing, although I might have to keep him in check. Look, I'll talk to you later. I have a call coming in on my work phone that I need to take. Love you.”

  “I love you,” she murmured into the phone and hit the button to end the call.

  She was a little upset by what she had heard from her father. Was Brian just doing what her father had asked him to do? Was he just keeping an eye on her? It made her upset to think that Brian could be spending time with her just to comply with what her father had asked of him.

  Does he even really like me? She wondered.

  He had said that he cared about her, but that didn't necessarily mean that he was attracted to her. Looking down, she realized that she would need to get dressed and go over to the main house before Brian started to worry. He seemed very protective of her. Perhaps it was just him following her father's orders?

  Sighing, she got dressed and headed over to the main house.

  5:03 PM

  Brian was prepping the pasta noodles for his dinner with Freya that night. He made everything from scratch when he could, and that included making the noodles themselves. And frankly, he felt the need to wow her more and more to keep her coming back. He had never been so happy in his life. The last week had been amazing. They'd spent their late afternoons and evenings together.

  Of course, even after all that time together, Brian still felt like there was something big that Freya was holding back. She still hadn't talked about why she was on so much medication. It seemed to make her drowsy a lot, and even though she was looking more gorgeous than ever with a little bit of extra exercise and his cooking, he still wondered why she still had that haunted look in her eyes.

  Why the super long-sleeved sweaters and sweatshirts? He couldn't even remember seeing her bare arms once. It was getting downright warm out, and only t-shirts were needed. She had to be roasting all the time.

  The skittishness at least had gone away for the most part, and she didn't look at him anymore like he was going to pounce on her (although, he was wondering how much longer his tortured dick would hold out).

  He was interrupted from his train of thought by a slight knock at the door. Of course, it would be Freya. She hadn't learned to let herself in yet. When he opened the door, he could immediately see that she was upset.

  “What's wrong?” He demanded.

  “Nothing,” she murmured.

  She didn't look a little upset either. She looked really upset.

  “You know you're a lousy liar,” he insisted. “Now tell me what's going on.”

  She looked at him, tears starting to well up in her eyes. Damn, he couldn't stand the sight of her tears. He needed to make whatever was bothering her better.

  After a few more moments of silence, he told her firmly again, “Freya, tell me. What's going on?”

  “I...” She started, her voice choked. Finally, she looked straight into his eyes and asked flat out, “Are you spending time with me because my father told you to keep an eye on me?”

  Shit, where did she ever get an idea like that in her head? She couldn't tell that he thought she was a fucking goddess?

  “Fuck no,” he said flatly. He grabbed her arms and pulled her so that she was right in front of him. “You get some crazy ideas sometimes. I spend time with you because I like being around you. Because I think you're fucking beautiful. Because one day, I'd like to mean something to you and you to me.”

  “I just...” She murmured, and he pulled her even closer.

  “Baby, let me show you exactly what you mean to me,” he breathed.

  With that, he bent his head to hers and pulled her head the rest of the way with a free hand. His lips gently met hers. At first, it seemed like she was too shocked to respond. But after a few moments, her lips began to move with his. They were soft, supple, and warm—everything he had imagined them to be plus so much more. A few more blissful moments later and his tongue parted her lips and began to explore her mouth. She tasted so amazing. It was making him freaking crazy.

  Then, she let out a soft moan between his lips that made his dick swell with lust. He couldn't help but pull her closer and press his body into hers. As soon as his arousal pressed against her belly, her eyes snapped open and it was over almost as fast as it began.

  She pushed him away, her eyes wide with fear.

  “I'm sorry...I just can't,” she whispered, her voice horse, raw.

  Before he could reply, she turned toward the still open front door and bolted. He called after her but knew that if he tried to follow her, she'd freak out even more.

  For a few tense moments, he kept wondering what the hell he had done to scare her so badly. Had she rejected him as a lover? The thought made him crazy. However, she had expressed to him before that she thought him attractive. So, what was the issue? He tried to replay what had happened in his mind over and over again.

  Then it occurred to him: it hadn't been the kiss that had freaked her out. It had been when he had pressed against her. The possibility occurred to him that maybe Freya wasn't recovering from an illness. Maybe she had been hurt by another man? The idea made his skin crawl, but it made sense with the way she had been acting.

  You stupid fuck, he told himself.

  If that were true, he may have just pushed her over her limit. Sighing, he stared out of the still-open door. He had seen her run back to the guesthouse, so she wasn't in any immediate danger. However, all he wanted to do was chase after her and let her know that he wouldn't hurt her.

  Instead, he shut the door with a heavy sigh. Running after her would most likely make things worse. He'd give her some time and then talk it out with her. He wasn't about to let her slip out of his life so easily.

  5:10 PM

  Freya slumped against the couch in the living room of the guesthouse and let out a heavy sob. She had been almost blinded by the tears when she had run. Now, alone in the guesthouse, all she had were tears to cope.

  Fear and guilt ran through her. Brian's kiss had been so wonderful, and she had thought that she'd been ready for something a little more intimate. A kiss seemed like something that she could handle, and she had enjoyed it briefly. She trusted him—she had realized—and had wanted him to kiss her. He was so sweet and so handsome that it was hard not to want to kiss him. But then, as things had gotten more intense and she had felt his arousal, all she could see was a flashback of James raping her. It had been such an intense flashback that she had freaked and ran. And now Brian was at the house, alone, probably hating her.

  She crawled on the couch and balled like a baby. Lord, she was such a mess. Why would a man like Brian even want her anyhow? He was so strong and confident...and sexual. Would she be able to give him all of herself? She couldn't imagine being with a man in that way. Once, while she had still been a virgin, she had fantasized about it, and now she was scared to death that it might happen again.

  Freya waited and wondered if he would come after her. After many minutes of waiting, she realized that he wasn't. He must have been pissed, she realized. She had probably been too much of a hassle. Sighing, she picked herself up from the couch in the living room and moved herself to the bed.

  At least if she pushed him away, she wouldn't have to worry ab
out finding out if she could handle intimacy. She could go back to the welcoming solitude and not worry about anything anymore, just surviving.

  5:30 PM

  Howard Greene tapped a pen on his desk while he waited for the police database to load. He had been spending a lot of time at the station, working on any possible leads for Freya Morgan's case. Of course, it all had to be on the low-down. Chief Johnson was keeping him busy with other cases, and even if the man wasn't involved with James Walker, spending time on another case would royally piss him off.

  Howard had done several searches on Alexander Clark—or Alexander J. W. Clark. His name appeared in both ways in a couple of searches. The man didn't have a driver's license, so Howard couldn't show the picture to Freya and see if there was a resemblance to her attacker. Alexander Clark had a few closed credit cards and bank accounts but nothing current. He was unmarried with no kids listed and no current employment history. His last known address was a place on the west side of town. Howard planned on dropping by later to see if he could get any leads.

  As Howard continued his search, he was interrupted by the vibration of his cell phone.

  Picking it up, he answered, “Greene.”

  “Detective,” was the sweet goddess-like voice that came from the other end.

  So, Alexis had finally decided to call him. Good.

  “Ms. Montgomery, I was just about to call you,” he told her.

  “I have some more info,” she said. “Not a lot but enough to meet. I don't want to talk over the phone.”

  “I do too. I have an address that I'd like to check out. Apparently, it was his last known address.” Howard hoped that the “his” was implied. He didn't need Johnson overhearing his conversation.

  “Good, when do you want to check it out?”

  It was a question that surprised the hell out of Howard. It implied that she wanted to go with him. Howard wasn't sure whether to be happy that she wanted to spend some time with him, even though it was case related, or whether to be worried that she'd get hurt.

  “Um, Lexie, are you sure you don't want to let me handle this one? If something goes down, I don't want you there,” he told her.

  “I told you, don't call me 'Lexie.' And, yes, I want to go. I'll accept the consequences.”

  Howard paused for a long moment, deciding what he wanted to do.

  Finally, he broke down and told her, “Fine. I'll text you the address. When can you go?”

  “I'm swamped with some trial preparation today, and tomorrow I have court. What about Saturday morning? Maybe around nine?”

  “Sure, I can do that. We'll meet at ten,” Howard told her.

  It was one of his few days off, and he certainly didn't want to spend it up way too early. Plus, maybe he could convince her to go to lunch with him afterward?

  She huffed into the receiver and grumbled, “Fine.”

  Before he could respond, she had hung up the phone. He sighed and wondered whether he was finally getting to her.

  “Social call?” A voice came from behind him.

  Howard instantly knew it was Johnson. Why did Johnson like to come to bother him when he had a whole city to protect? Johnson apparently liked to get into everyone's business. Sometimes Howard wondered if it was really because Johnson was busy covering for his son.

  “Something like that,” Howard said, turning around in his swivel chair. Johnson towered over him, scowling.

  “No one here is paying you for social calls,” Johnson said gruffly. “Why don't you concentrate on the cases that I assign you? How is the Riftkin case going?”

  Howard wondered whether or not Johnson's comment was a veiled attempt at letting Howard know that he knew what was going on.

  “The guy confessed and wants the plea bargain to rat out his buddies,” Howard said, trying to push past Johnson's attempts at intimidation.

  The Riftkin case was a college date rape case in the Charlotte area, involving a group of eighteen and nineteen-year-old guys. It was about a hundred times simpler than Freya Morgan's case.

  “It should be a pretty open and shut case.”

  “Sure,” Johnson replied. “Just make sure you focus on the right thing. I don't want any screw-ups.”

  The way Johnson said the last part made it sound like a threat. Howard just wished he knew if the Chief was on to the fact that Howard was investigating his son, or if the Chief was just being a hard-ass like usual. Before Howard could say anything, Johnson turned and left.

  Howard was glad. He couldn't stand the man breathing down his throat. And if it were true about Johnson's son being James Walker, it was really creepy that the man was covering for a rapist. However, Howard wasn't going to jump to conclusions. Not until he had more evidence.

  Chapter 13

  Friday, June 5

  8:15 PM

  Brian paced the floor of his living room. He had tried to spend some time on his novel, but his mind was thinking of a million other things. Most of them had to do with Freya Morgan.

  She had holed herself up in that guesthouse again and hadn't come out. He had been tempted to go over there. So many times, he had been on the verge of letting himself in and seeing if she was alright, but he had stopped himself every time. He didn't want to scare her. He figured she'd come out eventually when she was ready. Anything before then might push her over the edge.

  He couldn't stop thinking about the possibility of her being hurt by someone else. Lord, it couldn't possibly be Joe, could it? Brian couldn't imagine a man like Joe being abusive to his daughter. The man had honor and high standards. No, Brian decided. It couldn't have been Joe. Maybe someone else in Freya's life who was close to her?

  Then another thought hit him: what if it was sexual abuse? He remembered how she had reacted when she had felt his erection. Damn it. If it were true, he'd hunt the fucking bastard down.

  Slow it down, he told himself. You don't have a clue what's going on in her life. You're just guessing at this point.

  He sighed and looked out the window at the guesthouse. He decided that he'd let her move at her own pace this time. If she needed some space, then she needed some space. If she hadn't offered any information about what had happened to her, she wouldn't do it until she was ready.

  Staring out the window, Brian realized that it was not a particularly nice night out. The sky had a kind of a funny color to it, not the usual beautiful sunset. The wind was picking up pretty good, and rain had started to fall. He walked over to the family room and flipped on the TV to see if there was anything that he needed to be concerned about. Indeed, there was a thunderstorm warning and a high wind warning for the area.

  He sat down heavily on the couch and mindlessly watched the weather report, wishing all the while that Freya was with him. Her presence was calming, even if she seemed nervous a lot of the time. She had finally started to get comfortable with him, and he had blown it. Brian considered going downstairs to the basement and shoot for a while. He hadn't used the indoor range that he had built a couple of years ago in his basement since he had arrived at the house. He hadn't even told Freya about it, thinking that she might be a little wary about the guns he had locked up downstairs. Not a lot of women he had met had been especially excited about his past.

  Brian thought that it would be good to blow off some steam. The room had an amazing ventilation system and was pretty much state-of-the-art. He decided against it, though. He just wasn't in the mood.

  Instead, he continued watching the weather report, which only in a few brief moments had put out a tornado watch for the area.

  Shit, he thought. I need to go get Freya.

  Although a lot of people thought that tornadoes couldn't form in mountainous areas, that was a misconception. And frankly, Brian just didn't want to take the chance. He was going to get Freya and take her down to the basement to hole up until the storm was over, and he didn't care if she liked it or not. The guesthouse was built on a concrete slab, unlike the main house, and there were a lot more
trees by it. She'd be much safer underground.

  He could hear the storm picking up as he made his way to the front door. Flashes of lightning lit up the sky, while the roaring sound of thunder dominated over the sound of pounding rain. His hand had almost gotten to the front doorknob when there was a bright flash in the sky outside and then the house was splashed into darkness.

  Brian cursed as he fumbled around for the flashlight that he kept in his main entry hallway. He had a back-up generator that would kick on after five minutes of power loss, but the guesthouse wasn't hooked on the back-up generator. Freya would be sitting in darkness. He had to get her now.

  Not bothering with a jacket, he opened the front door and braved the storm.

  8:15 PM

  Freya woke up to the sound of the wind blowing past the guesthouse. Looking at the digital clock next to her bed, she sighed. She had nearly slept the day away. It had been the first time in many days that she had done that. Brian had been so good about making her get out of the house, and it had felt so good too. Now, she felt lost without him. She was also a little disappointed that he hadn't come to see her. Of course, after rejecting him as she had, why would he want to? If he had any sense, he would be done with her. But there was a part of her that wished that he would come to the house and get her, and there was another part that was afraid to see him.

  She picked herself up from the bed and shuffled into the bathroom. She had had another nightmare about James, and she was glad that the weather had woken her. Freya felt sticky, grimy and wanted to shower in the worst way.

  Turning on the knob to the shower, she brushed her teeth while waiting for the water to heat up. Then, she took her birth control pill and another one of her anxiety medications.

  Too many pills, she thought.

  She was tired of the medication, tired of being tired. Stepping into the hot spraying water, she tried her best to scrub off the thought of James touching her.

  Freya had no idea how long she had been in the shower, but when she finally turned the water off, she could hear thunder and see flashes of lightning through the bathroom window. The storm was getting rough.