Shooting Scars: The Artists Trilogy 2
Page 8
I took in a deep breath through my nose and shook out the edginess. It didn’t matter what the answer was because there was no use in figuring him out. For whatever reason, my old clothes were here and they were clean and that’s exactly what I needed to feel even remotely human.
I quickly pulled out a pair of jeans, super soft from years of wear, and tried to shimmy them on. Well, as clean and comfortable as they were, they barely fit over my thighs. I was a thin girl but my legs and ass were always on the gratuitous side and I guess my twenty-year-old body had been a lot more waif-like than I had thought. I was sure it would have bothered any other girl to know she’d gained weight, but since meeting Camden, I’d refused to feel bad about my body anymore. He had loved it, my curves, my scars, the way I was now and that wasn’t something to toss away, especially when his safety wasn’t as concrete as I had originally thought.
I mulled that over, wondering how it was that Javier could get to Camden at any moment – was he being bugged, monitored? Did he have a person on the inside? Was it Sophia? I remembered the way she eyed the briefcase like it held every wish she ever had. Then I pushed those thoughts out of the way, deciding I’d soon get it out of Javier instead, and selected a pair of wide-legged pants, a tight spaghetti strap top and a cropped cardigan with three-quarter-length sleeves. Just long enough to hide the tattoo on my arm, the tattoo that Javier had kept staring at like it still meant something.
I smoothed back my hair, black as ink when it was still wet, and didn’t bother with the makeup I had in my purse. I had no one to impress, not this time. I opened the door and was immediately met with the rich smells of frying bacon and brewing coffee. My stomach growled on impact, turning over on itself, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten a thing so far.
“Good morning,” Javier said from the table, looking like a carbon copy of yesterday. Once again, he was dressed in a suit, albeit this one was sand-colored and had a plain white tee instead of a dress shirt. He was also reading the Los Angeles Times again and shaking his head in amusement at whatever was on the page. “Green mustang? Oh, that hurts my soul.”
My eyes flew over to the stove where the bacon was done frying, only a few pops and sizzles accompanying the smell.
He waved his hand in that direction, eyes still glued to the paper. “I wasn’t sure if you were still on a hunger strike, but I made enough. There’s toast as well, one hundred percent whole-grain. It’s supposed to be good for you.” He said this all absently, like he wasn’t secretly hoping I’d eat it. Fuck my own spite this time, hunger was winning out.
I picked up a plate he had left out and started scooping up all the rest of the bacon and eggs, deciding to commit to it. I pressed the pieces of bread into the toaster and attacked the pot of coffee next.
“There’s milk and cream in the fridge,” he said and I could feel him watching me now.
I shrugged and filled my cup, turning around and leaning against the counter. “I take it black now.”
He eyed my pants. “You found your old clothes.”
I nodded and took a sip. It was so strong it was almost poisonous, yet it was exactly what I needed. “I did. Are you going to start an Ellie museum or something?”
I thought that would get a reaction out of him. No such luck. “Glad you’re looking a little more … elegant for our expedition today.”
My body jerked. “Expedition?” I couldn’t be meeting Travis, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready and there was no plan. The thought of seeing him after all these years, never mind the fact that I was supposed to help kill him – an idea that, despite everything, left my heart feeling numb – nearly brought me to my knees.
He raised his brows, still so very expressive. “Don’t worry, my angel, we’re just scoping things out, as you say. I would not throw you in the pool without a noodle.”
I frowned at that phrase, ignoring the tiny twang in my brain that reminded me of how charming I used to find his lapses in the English language, and said, “So what is the plan then? Where’s my … noodle?”
He smiled, too wide for his damn face. “You made a joke? You must be liking it here then.”
“Don’t flatter yourself and get to the point.”
He stroked his chin in one smooth sweep. “Ah. We’re going to take a look at some things.”
“And?”
“That is all.”
At that, the toast in the toaster popped with a loud bang and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Unfortunately, Javier noticed this.
“You seem nervous,” he commented. And to make matters worse, he got out of his chair and took a step toward me. I flattened up against the counter wondering if a coffee pot to the head would be my way out of this. Then he stopped a few feet back, close enough for me to smell his earthy cologne, close enough to grab me if he wanted to, but not close enough to be doing anything wrong. He was good at that, skirting the line between coincidence and intent.
I looked at the toast, sitting just out of reach. To get it I’d have to turn around and I didn’t want my back to him. I could almost imagine his breath at my neck and that wasn’t a good thing.
He smiled softly, following my eyes, then leaned over and plucked the toast out of the toaster, dropping it on my plate. He almost handed the plate to me and then stopped.
“Would you like honey with that?” he said, his eyes blazing into me like the aforementioned sweet.
I managed to shake my head, aware that I wasn’t really breathing. Just go, please, I thought, a strange kind of desperation running through me, that fear I couldn’t place.
Ever observant, he picked up on this.
“You’re trembling,” he said, voice low and smooth and far too familiar to my liking. “Are you afraid, Ellie?”
I could pretend I wasn’t. But Javier liked to make people feel the emotions he thought they should be feeling. In layman’s terms, if I lied, he’d make me afraid.
“Yes, I’m afraid,” I said, averting my eyes. I didn’t want to see his reaction, not the real one deep inside where his soul used to be.
“Of me?”
I nodded, keeping my attention focused on the fridge, the clean chrome, the lack of magnets and calendars and take-out menus. The things that used to be there. Life.
“Why are you afraid of me, Ellie?”
If I told him the truth, that I really didn’t know, he’d make it into something it wasn’t.
“Are you going to kill me?”
His head twitched in surprise. “Is that really what you think?’
I honestly didn’t know, not anymore. I knew he’d keep me around for as long as he needed me but I had no idea what it all meant when this was over. He hadn’t promised me my life yet.
“Other than the fact that you’re an asshole, yes.”
He didn’t seem to get it. “I’m doing this for you,” he said quietly.
“I thought it was for your so-called morals. Your score?” I noticed that the plate in his hand was shaking ever so slightly. Something was happening.
Then it was gone. He swallowed hard. “I guess it’s that then. Either way, I’m not hurting you.”
No, I thought, just Camden and me if I don’t do what you say.
“You did in the car,” I blurted out.
“I did?”
“You grabbed my wrist …”
He was truly puzzled. I was starting to feel like an idiot for having no control of my mouth. So much for being tough as nails.
“Then I am sorry. I didn’t realize you were so delicate. I knew that Eden wouldn’t mind that sort of thing. I could bite her hard enough to draw blood and she liked it.”
He was standing too close to me to be saying those words. I took the plate out of his hand finally, for some action to take, to ignore what he was saying and the visual I had of the two of us, younger and in throws of uninhibited passion.
“That was different,” I managed to say when I found my voice. “I wasn’t the same person back then.”
Javi
er nodded, his eyes fastened to every inch of my face. “Neither was I. One must wonder if we changed for the better, hmmm?”
“I’d say we barely crawled out of a burning wreckage alive.”
His brows knit together delicately. “I’d say we evolved. We grew stronger.”
I shot him a hard look. “We ruined each other.”
“You see it one way, I see it another. It was good for something. Once upon a time I thought it was good for everything.”
Me too, I thought, then buried it.
He watched me for a few moments, wheels turning behind those hawk eyes. It used to kill me never knowing what he was thinking. Now, I didn’t want to know. Our exchange had got a little too close for comfort.
I still couldn’t rule out the fact that he would never hurt me. Fool me once and all that jazz.
When he was satisfied with his observations, his attention darted over to my plate. “Your bacon is getting cold.”
So it was. And then he left, turning sharply away from me and snapping up the newspaper from the table. He rolled it up as if he was going to punish a bad dog and walked swiftly to the staircase. I had to wonder where he was sleeping, perhaps in the spare bedroom downstairs. Perhaps I was alone here at night.
“When is the expedition?” I called out after him.
He paused and looked like he was going to say something smart-assey when his cell phone rang, a sci-fi type ringtone. He frowned and fished it out.
“Yes?” he said, clearly annoyed already by whoever was calling. He listened and as I moved over to the table with my plate, I watched his face contort in absolute rage, a look that, for all his short-temperedness, I very rarely saw on him. It made me sit down and shut up.
“What do you mean they’re gone?” he practically screamed into the phone. “Did they see her?”
Suddenly he was looking at me and switched to Spanish, lowering his voice as if it took all the effort in the world. It probably did.
Now, Eden White never knew Spanish and Ellie Watt was still pretty rusty at it but she knew some. I couldn’t make out everything he said and I was probably wrong on what I was interpreting anyway, but what I could gather was that it involved me. Or some other woman but I was going to assume it was about me. It was a problem that I was here or someone knew I was here. Not a he, but a group of people it seemed. Of course, that could be more my paranoia talking than my grasp of Spanish.
Suddenly Javier jabbed at his phone and slipped it in his jacket pocket. Javier’s back was to me, which was somehow more frightening because he could be turning into a drug cartel Hulk and I wouldn’t know it until he turned around.
He sighed, loudly, gazing up at the ceiling, his fingers clenching and unclenching. Part of me was happy to see him so pissed off, that things weren’t going his way, the other part was scared. Because he could take it out on me. Because things might have just gotten worse.
I waited there at the table, afraid to eat, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.
Finally he turned around, his skin dark red at the temples but otherwise looked calm. He gave me a smile that read false. “Change of plans.”
I raised my brow and remained silent.
“We’re going to Mexico.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
CAMDEN
She was in my dreams again, Ellie. Only this time, the fire that consumed us came from within. I was in a black, cavernous room with no walls, no windows, and a floor made of ebony satin. She was lying at my feet, naked and curled up, sleeping.
Her eyes opened and she saw me. She smiled. I could barely bring my eyes away from her body. She was curved in all the right places, places that felt like home to me, like the area underneath her ass where it melted into her thighs, or where her full breasts swooped up into her soft arms. Her nipple ring sparkled, diamonds now, and I felt myself grow instantly hard, wanting nothing more than to tug at it with my teeth. She groaned with so much pleasure when I had done it before. I’d give anything to hear that sound, even if it wasn’t real.
She turned over onto her back, her breasts inviting me for a taste. Beckoning me with her finger, her sly look almost undid me. I was naked as well, my erection impressive. I’d heard that I was a “big boy” from many women and looming over Ellie like this, seeing the raw hunger in her eyes, the anticipation, I couldn’t have been more grateful. I was petty, even in my dreams.
I dropped down to my knees and crawled over her, pinning her body between my limbs, the contrast of the dark hair of my legs to the milky white of hers, the cherry blossoms more delicate and vibrant than ever. I brushed my cock against the fine hair of her pubic bone, pressing it up against her belly, a heavy weight between us. Her breath quickened, mine deepened. I wanted nothing more than to thrust it inside of her, feel her warmth, her wetness, her tight grip that felt better than heaven.
I reached under her back and with a deft move, flipped her over and pulled her up so she was on all fours, back arched, ass widening beneath me. She wiggled it, just slightly, and the sight nearly made me come. I was a hair trigger.
I licked my fingers, then trailed them down the slit of her ass, feeling her pucker before dipping them down into the lake of her cleft. She was so fucking wet, so wet for me. I drew the moisture up and swirled my finger into her, one then two. I hadn’t known Ellie long enough in an intimate way to know if she was into anything anal. But it was a dream and I didn’t care. I’d have my way with her and she’d love it.
My breath hitched and she let out little fluttery moans that made my balls tighten. I slowly edged myself into her, feeling the heat and the impossible tightness, the taboo, the dirtiness. The wonderful, mouth-gaping dirtiness. We both cried out as I thrust in deep, my cock being squeezed until I couldn’t handle it anymore.
Then something changed. A wave of cold came out from the darkness and along with it, the shadowy silhouette of a man. There was only shape to him and thick substance, like a figure had been sculpted out of black tar and clay. The chill he brought made me stop dead, my fingers resting softly on the cheeks of her ass.
The man came closer and still he had no features. Ellie’s head was up and watching him, like a playful cat, while I remained lodged inside her. He stopped right in front of her face and she reached for him with one hand, taking his black erect appendage into her mouth and crying out with pleasure.
I shut my eyes tight, willing myself to be the one she was sucking off. My dreams could be somewhat lucid when I wanted them to.
When I opened them, it had worked. My cock was in Ellie’s mouth, her tongue running and up and down the underside. But now, the black shape was where I had been, pounding her hard from behind. I watched, unable to stop Ellie from sucking me off, not wanting the pleasure to end, while watching the blackness as it spread over her. I came loudly, spurting into her mouth, which she swallowed happily. Then she came, the pounding coming to a climax.
The man of black matter smiled. A flash of white teeth against the abyss.
Then he was gone.
And she was gone.
I woke up on Gus’s couch in the middle of the night, my dick in my hands, pumping myself until I was coming all over my stomach with sticky bursts. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, from waking up Gus, and once the sensation faded, I noticed with embarrassment that I’d pulled my shirt up in my sleep, avoiding a mess.
I lay back, breathing hard, staring up at the ceiling. As far as sex dreams went, that one took the cake. I didn’t feel a sense of relief and peace as I normally did after climaxing. I felt empty. I felt dirty – and not the good kind of dirty.
I wiped up the mess with a few tissues and threw them in the trash. The door to his room was closed and I could hear him snoring loudly. There was no way I’d be going back to sleep now, even though the microwave clock said it was 4AM. The dream had thrilled then scared me and I didn’t want to give it thought, to give it power, to think what it had meant. I had to find Ellie first, then I’d deal with my subconscious.
But I couldn’t. I was invested, as deep as I could be and as emotionally connected to Ellie than I’d ever been to anyone. In some ways, even Ben. I didn’t quite know why but that was the thing about love sometimes. It gave you few reasons and the rest was out of your hands.
Last night, I had told Gus that I was going to find her no matter what. If he wanted to help, then great. But if he didn’t, it wouldn’t stop me. Now that I knew exactly what was at stake – Ellie’s life, Ellie’s heart – I was all in.
“Even if Ellie doesn’t want to leave and Javier dies by my own bloody hands, I’m in it to the end,” I had said.
I don’t know if it’s because my veins were bulging out of my forehead or that I felt like a thousand suns were burning through my body and out of my eyes, but Gus finally nodded and said “alright.” He would help me get Ellie back.
To be honest, I think the idea of killing Javier put a little motivation in him, like a drop of blood in a shark tank. It wasn’t something I was banking on but I was prepared to do it. To know that Gus would be there to back me up helped, and also it made me realize the lengths I was prepared to go to save her, even on my own. It made me realize that in saving her, I might lose myself, lose any morals or convictions I once had. Camden McQueen might end up a stranger to even me when it was all said and done.
And I was going to have to be okay with that.
In fact, from the way I watched Gus go through his collection of firearms and give me the lowdown on each one, the tiny visceral thrill that shot through me, I was probably going to be more than okay with that. I was probably going to welcome it with open arms.
I never did end up falling back asleep, the memory of the dream and the real memory of Ellie clashing violently with each other. I did what I could to hold it all together, the same way I’d been doing it for the last few days, ever since she left with him. When I’d feel rage creeping on up, saturating my limbs from the inside out, I mentally quarantined the feeling. I imagined taking the anger, the panic, the injustice, and funneled it into a compartment in my head. I took it out of my heart and my lungs and the muscles that wanted to curl my hands into fists and have me explode. It was the only way I was able to think clearly, to do what needed to be done.