His insecurity flared again and I sighed, sending a look of disdain in his direction. The jackass needed to be a little more confident in how his wife felt about him. He caught my thoughts and irritation flashed in his eyes before he looked away.
“Chill, I’m not making a move on your wife,” I said, although the thought of having a turn at her breasts wasn’t something I’d turn down. I just knew the offer would never be extended, at least not while Damian was alive.
He grabbed one of the bags and threw it in my direction; the glare accompanying the toss meant he got a whiff of my thoughts. I caught the bag and slung it over my shoulder. “Which child do you want me to carry,” I said.
“Why don’t you carry Michael,” Naomi said, scooping up Grace in her arms.
I stepped to the crib tagged with Michael’s name and scooped him up, bringing him to the bed where a winter snuggly was laid out for each child. I slid Michael into the green one. Damian took care of zipping Gabriel into a blue snuggly, leaving the pink one for Grace.
The nurse arrived and our merry little band exited the hospital. After all three kids were hooked into the middle row, I slid into the far back, and leaned back, closing my eyes for the hour long ride home.
Chapter 7
“Chris!”
I sat up in the backseat and stared at the figure standing over me. Damian shifted and pulled the last baby seat from the base.
“We’re home,” he said and disappeared out the side of the van.
I rubbed my eyes and stepped out, welcoming the salty tinge in the air. Naomi had already gone into the house and Damian slipped inside as I closed the car door. The gates were clear of lurking media and I was glad they had deserted their posts. I didn’t want to deal with that type of irritation, not with the foul mood brewing under my skin.
The minute I stepped into the house the level of noise fanned those flames and I gave a nod to everyone in the family room. My gaze lingered on my brother’s and even without the benefit of mind reading, I knew he wasn’t handling our father’s death well. I sent him a nod and escaped into the basement, to our workout area. Specifically, to the punching bag.
I stripped my jacket, tossing it into the corner and approached the bag, allowing the turmoil inside to curl my hands into fists. The first jab felt good, the scrape of the leather across my knuckles, the slight give of the bag, the rattle of the chains, all fueled me and my jabs became full punches, each one more brutal than the last.
Scenes from the past few days snapped off in my mind, each punctuated by my fists connecting with the leather. The faster the mind show, the faster my fists flew, and the more my fury bloomed. My breath labored and I finally let out a warrior cry and slammed my right fist in the center of the target with everything I had. The bag flew across the basement, smashing into the far wall, disintegrating into a puff of Styrofoam.
I stared at the mess and then my gaze dropped to my hands still clenched at the ready. Blood flowed from my knuckles and I loosened my fists, wincing at the first sign of pain now that I wasn’t numb with anger.
“Ah, fuck.” I turned toward the stairs and stopped.
“Finished?” Tom signed from his position at the bottom of the stairs.
“What do you think?” I snapped, dropping my throbbing hands to my side. Warm trails of blood dribbled down my fingers, the sensation distracting and calming at the same time.
“I think you’re just gearing up,” he signed and cocked an eyebrow. “Want to tell me what happened?”
The air went out of my chest and I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about Sandy and I sure as hell didn’t want to talk about fucking a demon.
“Are you okay?”
I let a bark of a laugh loose. Am I okay, well, that was the fifty-thousand-dollar question and I shrugged. “Are you?”
He looked beyond me at what was left of the punching bag and shook his head. When his eyes found mine, they glistened with an unshed layer of tears.
My laughter faded and I took a closer look, not just at his physical appearance, but his mind as well. The severed head of my father brought back the nightmare he endured in Georgia and I crossed, pulling him into a hug. The kid deserved better than what he had been dealt and while he had shut me out at that time of his life, I was the one who he turned to this time.
“I’m sorry I took off,” I said when the shakes started, I wasn’t sure if it was Tom or me who was trembling, but he was the one crying and holding on like I was the only thing keeping his sanity in check.
Fear radiated from him and without words, I got the litany of nightmares that plagued him these last few nights. Nightmares that he carried alone. Not even Steve had been privy to his sweat-induced terror. Past and present had blended into a carnival of blades and blood, wreaking havoc on everyone he loved.
He couldn’t articulate to Raven, not in any way that communicated the depth of the horrors he faced. It had been years since Georgia haunted him and now it was as if the killer had risen in his nightmares, taking vengeance on him for surviving.
“That’s not the first time Dad lost his head,” I said when the shakes stopped.
Tom pushed me away, his damp face cracking a smile. “You’re sick,” he signed and then mopped his face with his sleeve.
I grinned and looked at the floor. “Yeah, well, sometimes all you need is a well-placed joke.” I glanced up at him.
“Thank you,” he signed. “Now that I’ve unloaded, think you want to tell me what happened with Sandy?”
My smile disappeared and I chose to look at the destroyed punching bag instead of my brother. “She found someone else,” I said and grabbed the broom from the closet under the stairs. I crossed and started sweeping the miniature Styrofoam balls into a neat little pile.
When I looked up, Tom wasn’t there anymore but my flash of irritation was short lived. He trotted down the stairs with the box of garbage bags and another broom. He quietly helped me clean up my mess.
We had the foam cleaned up in no time and I leaned on the broom, staring at the group of full garbage bags and it occurred to me that he had only been dumped once. That travesty had led him to Raven.
“Damian told me everything happens for a reason,” I said and Tom glanced up from tying the last bag.
He bit his lip and sighed before his hands slowly signed. “I used to think that was bullshit,” he started and I could hear the words forming in his head as he signed. “But since I met Raven, I’m not so sure it is.” He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pocket, signaling he didn’t have anything to add for the moment.
His answer surprised me, considering the shit he’s been through. “So, you really think everything is predetermined?”
He shrugged and picked up a couple of bags, waiting for me to follow suit. I grabbed the remaining garbage and headed upstairs, holding the door for him. The murmuring in the kitchen stopped the moment we appeared. All eyes followed us through the house and into the garage and when I stepped back inside, behind Tom, Jennifer crossed her arms, raising her eyebrow at me.
I glanced at my bloody knuckles and then back at her with a shrug. “I’ll live,” I said to her silent scrutiny and crossed to the kitchen sink, turning on the cold water. I glanced at the reflections in the window and sent a warning glare as Steve stepped closer.
“Leave it.” Stinging pain bit at my knuckles as the water washed away the blood, numbing all other sensations floating through me. I pressed my teeth together, not quite clenching, more like grinding them slowly until the water ran clear. After turning the faucet off, I wrapped a sheet of paper towel over each hand, gripping the ends to keep it in place before glancing at Steve and Jennifer. “My knuckles are only skinned, not broken,” I said to Steve. “If they’re bothering me tomorrow, I’ll let you do your magic.”
“Fine,” he replied, raising his hands and stepping away.
“If you’re going to be a stubborn jackass, at least let me bandage them properly,” Jennifer said, grabbing th
e rarely used first aid kit from under the sink.
I didn’t have much choice in the matter. She grabbed my arm and led me to the table, pointing at the chair. Jennifer peeled the paper towel away, wincing at the raw skin and I glanced beyond Tom at the empty family room.
“Where’s Damian and the rest of the gang?”
“They’re upstairs. Raven’s helping them get settled for the night. I guess they’ll be looking for a house tomorrow,” Jennifer said, dabbing some antibiotic ointment on my wounds.
The cool sensation soothed the sting and buffered the cuts from the scrape of the gauze she wrapped around my knuckles. When she finished, she looked at the patch job and nodded, pushing back her seat and giving me a quick pat on the shoulder.
“That should prevent you from bleeding all over the furniture.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled and my phone buzzed. I dug it out of my pocket and laughed at the name on the display, turning it towards Tom. “Do you remember Jenna?”
His eyebrows rose and he grinned, nodding and meeting my gaze. She was one of the many girls he screwed around with in high school and his grin told me what I wanted to know.
“Why is she texting you?” he signed.
“I changed my relationship status on Facebook last night,” I said, scrolling through the messages on my social networking page for the first time since I changed it. I chuckled at the sheer number of ‘call me’ messages and then I brought up Jenna’s personal invitation.
“Looks like she’s having a party,” I said and met Tom’s gaze again.
Tom glanced at Steve and then signed, “I remember her parties being pretty wild.”
I could use a little wild right now, especially wild with a non-possessed woman. I typed out a response and moments later her address appeared on my screen. I knew the area and I gave Tom a nod. “I’m going out for a bit,” I said to Steve and Jennifer and didn’t wait for them to intercede. I was out of the house and on the road in a matter of minutes.
Chapter 8
I glanced at the house and then the address on my phone. It matched, but the house wasn’t overrun with people like the few high school parties that we used to crash. Of course, Jenna wasn’t in high school anymore, and I crossed to the door, pocketing my phone. I hesitated. The absence of thought raised flags and I pulled my hand away from the doorbell.
I was no longer sure this was a good idea, but then the door swung open and there Jenna Sylvan stood. In high school, she was one of the prettiest girls, and she had turned into a smoking hot woman. I stared at the skimpy negligee she wore. Stunned into silence, I didn’t move. She reached out, grabbed my coat, and yanked me inside.
The door closed and smokey air filtered through the house. I sniffed and found my voice. “Getting high?” I asked as she stripped my coat.
“Among other things,” she said and tossed my coat on the railing, leading me into the living room.
I stopped in the entry way. The coffee table was littered with all manner of drugs from joints to pills to neatly cut lines of coke and Jenna wasn’t alone. Being a cop’s son, I had steered clear of drugs for the most part. I’ve only experienced a hit of marijuana a couple of times, and nothing like the spread before me. And Jenna wasn’t alone. Two former cheerleaders looked up from their position on the floor. Both of them were naked and one was snorting lines off the other’s stomach. I don’t know whether it was a blessing or not, but I couldn’t recall their names.
“Welcome to the party,” they giggled and I glanced at Jenna wondering if Tom knew she swung both ways.
“Don’t look so shocked,” she said, coaxing me forward and into the lone chair. She handed me a lit joint and I looked at it, debating. “We have dreamed of having you alone, all to ourselves, for as long as I can remember.”
I stared at her stoned eyes and brought the joint to my lips, inhaling a deep pull and holding it, despite the overriding need to cough. “How long have you been doing that shit?” I squeaked out and exhaled, pointing my chin toward the table.
“A few years,” she said and her hands traveled to my belt. I took another hit and reached down, stilling her busy fingers.
“I don’t have anything,” I said. I hadn’t come prepared and all I needed was to knock up the town slut.
She laughed at me and turned, reaching beyond the drugs to a small bowl and pulled a strip of condoms from inside, holding them up for me. “We thought that might be the case. You were always so straight laced in high school. Unlike your brother,” she whispered and I laughed, staring at the package and letting my gaze travel to the two girls exploring each other.
“Damn,” I whispered and took a third hit, sucking as the burning embers glowed.
Jenna’s eyes focused on the bandages on my knuckles and her hands left my unbuckled belt, choosing to trace the bandages instead. Her gray eyes looked up at me, filled with concern. “You’re hurt.”
“Nah, just scraped the crap out of my hands, I’ll be fine.” The pot had started to weed its way into my bloodstream like a numbing agent and I handed her back the joint. She put it on the table and pulled me to her lips. Her kiss was empty and did nothing to get my engine revved, but when she chose to unbutton my shirt and lick her way from my neck to my waist band, I didn’t stop her.
She chuckled and I let her pull my jeans off and accepted the offer of another joint. I smoked the entire thing while the girls took turns blowing me. I had never been this high this fast, each hit taking me farther into the land of sensations and sex.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, inspecting the stub of a joint between my fingers. Jenna looked up from my lap with a wicked grin.
“Maui laced with a little of everything,” she whispered and took me in her mouth again.
I closed my eyes and let them take me to the land of excess.
* * *
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered as bright rays of sunshine blinded me. I attempted to roll away but I was blocked in by bodies draped over me. My head pounded and every muscle in my body ached. Bleached blonde hair covered my chest and I wasn’t sure whose head it belonged to.
I blinked, squinting at the ceiling and the events of the night bled into my memory. I pushed the bodies off and sat up, scanning the family room and the remnants of drugs strewn about, along with the number of used condoms. I think I used up their entire stock pile. Holy shit.
Jenna stirred next to me, her sleepy eyes focused on me for a moment and then her eyelids dropped again and I hopped to my feet, finding each piece of clothing and pulling it on. For the second time in as many nights, I did the walk of shame, but actually this time, I didn’t slink from the place like at the hospital; instead, I stumbled out the door to my car, tumbled into the driver’s seat, and fumbled for my keys. My stomach did a slow roll and I clenched my teeth against the acid burn in my throat, focusing on getting the hell out of there.
Tom had been right. Jenna was kinky as hell and her friends had matched her carnal appetite, leaving me at the mercy of three very stoned, very horny women. I drank it in like a man who had been lost in the desert for days and just stumbled upon an oasis, but sometime during the night, I heard the devil’s whisper, promising this type of decadence for the rest of my days if I’d just allow him in.
I swerved to the side of the road and swung the door open, just in time for whatever was in my stomach to purge all over the pavement.
Had I? Jesus, did I say yes?
I shivered, closing my eyes and willing the details out of the fog. What I saw left me shaking with relief, but the shit thing was, I’d considered it. When the devil offered the option of Naomi to me in the same compromising positions as Jenna, I actually considered his fucked up offer.
I stared out the window, wondering if he had offered Sandy instead of Naomi, would I have said yes?
Chapter 9
The house was quiet and I glanced at the clock. It was a little after three in the afternoon. I fished out my phone and stared at the home screen. No missed c
alls. Well, at least they hadn’t started a search party. Instead of heading toward the back of the house where Steve and Jennifer’s home office was, to see if they were there, I climbed the stairs, heading to the bathroom to clean up. The mint freshness of the toothpaste felt good in my sour mouth and I stared at my bloodshot eyes. Disappointment raked across my skin and I dropped my gaze. I didn’t want to psychoanalyze my behavior.
I knew I went too far.
The warm water of the shower washed away the dried evidence of a wild night and I stood under the spray, contemplating Steve’s reaction to my lapse of judgment. I knew Steve was going to be pissed when he found out I got wasted. I just hoped he wouldn’t get a glimpse of my drug induced sexcapades. I shut off the water and wrapped a towel around my waist. I didn’t think twice about stepping out of the bathroom in only a towel, but when the door opened and Naomi’s surprised gaze met mine, I halted.
“Where is everyone,” she asked.
I shrugged and smiled at the way her eyes bounced from mine to my bare chest.
“What the hell happened to you?”
My smile faded and I took a good look at my chest for the first time since I left Jenna’s. Deep welts crisscrossed my skin, like the girls had raked their nails across me in the heat of our sexual tryst, but the thing that drew breath from my lungs was the five punctures wounds surrounding my heart, just deep enough to penetrate skin, but not deep enough to do lasting damage. It was like someone, or something, had tried to rip out my heart.
Cold terror layered over me and I snapped my gaze to hers while I reached for the door to steady myself. I didn’t realize just how close the devil’s bid for my soul had come to succeeding.
“I... uh,” I didn’t know what to say and she shifted the baby on her shoulder.
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