That wasn’t about to happen any time soon but she made a note of it. “Let’s go watch some basketball.”
Chapter Seventeen
The Safe House
Caroline heard Gabe and the others talking about it one night when they thought she was asleep. She hadn’t bothered telling them that sleep was her enemy. Crunch and Jones had to know that she occasionally spent her nights in Gabe’s bedroom. She wondered what they thought about that. Gabe wouldn’t volunteer information but he probably wouldn’t refute any speculation, either.
But that conversation…their voices, their words…none of what her friends said had come as a surprise. What were they to do? How could they get her to talk? What would happen if she went batshit again? It was no secret she was fucked up in the head. They couldn’t exactly get a therapist to make house calls for a woman who was supposed to be dead. And they’d figured out rather quickly not to engage her any more than they already had.
It was laughable. She needed loads of therapy. Oodles and oodles of analysis and study. The Thomas Eagleton treatment or something similarly drastic. She wasn’t going to get it any time soon so she’d have to do a better job of holding it together. But how could she do that if she could never be sure exactly what would cause her to unravel?
She didn’t resent her friends for their concern. Didn’t wish them harm. They simply didn’t know what to do with her. She tried harder. Tried to temper her responses, made sure that even if she wasn’t smiling she could appear to be in a satisfactory mood. They were good men but she wasn’t ready to bare her soul to them. They hadn’t signed up for that.
Her strategy worked for the most part. It proved difficult to find a balance between maintaining relationships and keeping her psyche intact. She was able to suppress her tears unless she was asleep. Caroline had little control during her brief slumbers but did have a modicum of privacy. She practiced avoidance when her emotions were on edge. The guys knew what it meant when she took a longer shower than necessary or spent more time than usual locked away in her room. She wasn’t to be bothered, so they didn’t.
Routine and distraction meant that getting through each day was a tiny win. Dates seemed immaterial until Christmas Eve came. Caroline spent most of her time sitting by the window and focusing on the backyard. It was snowing. Heavily. A Christmas Eve snowstorm. Rather ill-timed in her opinion. She used to love the snow during the holidays, but hours spent trudging around a national forest and too much time inside a federal prison had strapped her of her sense of whimsy. Of the childlike joy and sense of magic that came when the flakes hit the ground. Daring to think of past winters threatened to bring up memories she was trying to stomp out of existence. The snow was ugly. Wet gloppy goo that weighed down tree branches and threatened to rip the gutters off the house.
There would be no Midnight Mass. No hastening into church to find the good seats, no catching a whiff of incense as the processional began, no happy singing of “Joy to the World” once the service was over. Gabe and Jonesie were home for a few days as the year ended and planned on using the remainder of their time off in late January. They’d never go back to The Fed after that. No one had questioned that they were going to take vacations simultaneously. By the time anyone put two and two together they’d be long gone.
The four of them were going to enjoy a low-key Christmas Eve and an even lower-key Christmas. Enjoyment was not the word Caroline would use. In the corner of the room stood a small tree with some piddly lights and a few ornaments, and a couple of presents underneath. She felt bad that she hadn’t been able to buy her friends gifts and couldn’t make them anything either. Susie Homemaker she was not.
Jonesie and Gabe were in unexpectedly jovial moods, no doubt buoyed by the fact that they would soon be free of The Fed. Caroline declined their offer to watch old Christmas specials and headed to her room, hearing the tail end of a choral rendition of “O Come All Ye Faithful” as she stepped down the hall. She wondered what channel they were watching. It couldn’t be PBS; funding had been done away with, so NPR and her beloved public television were both gone.
Winter brought recollections of other things, those damn bits of life getting in the way and triggering her memories. Every once in a while one would break away and bounce off before she could catch it. She kept trying to force them out of her head, lock them away, toss them down the drain so they’d wash into the sewer and vanish forever. Nothing worked. Beer couldn’t cut it. Drugs wouldn’t do it. Metaphorical self-flagellation had been equally ineffective.
Those memories were part of a life that was gone. The woman who’d lived them had disappeared. Caroline had started repeating her new name like a mantra in front of the mirror every morning, along with the other information on her identifying documents. Focusing on anything else would make her forget who she was now, and that could seriously fuck them over once they started to travel.
She didn’t sleep that night and the next day tried to distract herself as much as possible. Practical gifts were given. A new pair of boots for Caroline, suitable for traveling and for kicking at any attackers, if necessary. A few sweaters and pairs of jeans. A knapsack in which to pack her few possessions.
Every one of them had a stocking with a train ticket inside, set to depart at the end of January. A very small, very quiet Christmas. If it hadn’t been for the decorations and the snow outside, Caroline might not have thought twice about what day it was.
Jonesie and Crunch were telling stories of their childhood holidays, trying to outdo each other. Caroline and Gabe spent most of their time listening, drinking eggnog and keeping the two other men from yapping at each other when the competition got out of hand. But the night had gotten long and she’d grown weary of hearing happy tales. After she finished off the last of her eggnog, Caroline knew it was time to make her escape.
“I’m heading to bed,” she said.
Jones grumbled his displeasure. “It’s early. Stay and tell us some stories about you.”
She gave him a wan smile. “Nothing to tell. All my Christmases were pretty damn boring.”
But she knew he could see through the lie. Because she saw through it too.
Chapter Eighteen
The Past
Their first Christmas in Philadelphia. A rousing success so far. Caroline leaned back against the couch in the den. They’d spent most of the holiday there since the formal living room was too white for her taste. Jack’s brother and his family had come over and she’d done an admirable job of charming the pants off of them.
According to Jack, his niece and nephew were not terribly pleased that she had come into his life, since they thought they were no longer due a financial windfall after his death. What they didn’t know was that he’d never intended to grant said windfall in the first place. He had intended to make sure his family was remembered in his will, but the majority of his money would have been funneled into his charitable foundation.
Until he married Caroline. Then everything changed. He set up a college trust for the girls as a Christmas present. Sophie didn’t quite get what it meant but Marguerite gave him a tearful hug after she looked over the documents.
“Does this mean we don’t have to worry about paying for school anymore?” she asked.
Caroline shook her head back and forth. “No,” she said. “You don’t.”
“You can go anywhere you want,” Jack added.
That had set the tone for the day. Fortunately he’d told Caroline about it beforehand so she was able to keep her emotions in check. All her concerns about college and retirement and financial security were gone. Caroline had her fair share of irrational fears but Jack had done his best to ensure that she and her children would never want for anything ever again.
The girls loped off to bed after Jack’s brother and his family left. Caroline had forced Jack to watch A Christmas Story multiple times over the course of the day, and now that they had the den to themselves he kept trying to get her to make out during the c
ommercials.
“You’ve seen this movie a million times,” he said, in between kisses. “Can’t we do something else?”
Caroline pushed him off of her and tried to get a better view of the TV. “But Flick’s about to stick his tongue to the flagpole.”
Jack tried to put his hand under her sweater. “We’ve watched that scene at least five times today.”
She tugged his hand away. “Because it’s awesome.”
“Caroline, I’m trying to seduce you and I can’t do that when Peter Billingsley keeps making weird faces at me.”
“He’s totally hot now. Did you know that? Ralphie grew up to be a dreamboat.”
He kissed her, making sure he was blocking the TV. “As hot as me?”
She moaned softly. “Never. Hey, did you know that the guy who played Flick ended up making porn later in his career?”
Jack had distracted her enough to successfully get his hand under her sweater. “See, that’s the kind of movie trivia I can relate to. Give me all the dirty details.”
“One of them was called The Wrong Snatch.”
He straightened up. “That’s an odd title. How does that work from a plotline point of view?”
Caroline laughed. “Do you really want to know?”
He pulled her on top of him. “No.”
Her view was blocked again. “Do you want to go upstairs, Jack?”
“I’d rather go in the ballroom. I have a surprise for you.”
She hopped off the couch. “You should have said that first. I would have totally abandoned the movie for a lap dance. That’s what I’m getting, right?”
He took her hand. “You’ll find out.”
When they reached the ballroom he locked the door behind him. Jack walked over to one of the decorative side tables and produced a box wrapped with red paper.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, handing it to her.
“Why didn’t you give this to me earlier?”
“I needed us to be in private when I gave it to you. Open it.”
It had to be jewelry. “I told you not to get me anything outlandish.”
“I don’t have to listen to you. Even if we are married.”
Caroline ripped the paper away. She opened the box and was greeted with an exquisite emerald necklace. Fringe design, with each individual green stone framed by tiny sparkling diamonds. The necklace was dripping with jewels from end to end. It looked like a prop from an eighties soap opera except it was stunningly, gorgeously real. She wouldn’t even want to speculate about the cost. “Jack-”
“Do you like it?” he asked.
She was convinced he only gave her presents just to gauge her reaction. To see how long she’d gawk at them before starting to gush. Caroline wasn’t refined when it came to her spontaneous responses to him. Did she like the necklace? A rather silly question since it was one of the most amazing things she’d ever seen.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
He took the box from her. “I didn’t recall seeing you with anything other than sapphires or diamonds. We’re going to have to do something about that.”
She could only imagine the media attention they’d get if she paraded around wearing a necklace that cost more than what the average household made in a year, several times over. Sometimes her husband forgot that he was running for governor, not auditioning for the cast of Falcon Crest. “It’s too much, Jack. It’s so…elaborate. I can’t wear that in public.”
He smiled. “Then don’t. Wear it just for me.”
“Just around the house? Like, when I’m watching baseball and stuff?”
He laughed. “‘And stuff’?”
Her language was less polished than usual. “I’ve had a ton to drink today. I can’t always be articulate.”
Jack pulled her to him, leaning toward her ear. “How about you wear the necklace and nothing else, and grant your husband a dance?”
Now she saw where he was going. “A nice Christmas waltz?” Caroline suggested. “Fully clothed, of course. We must always be proper.”
He tugged at her sweater. “Try again.”
His romantic and seductive gestures were sweet, but impractical. “It’s cold in here.”
“I’ll turn the heat up.”
“What about you?”
“We don’t need to worry about me.”
Caroline sighed. “I meant your clothes.”
He unbuttoned her pants. “They’re staying on.”
That seemed unfair. “I’m not sure I like this power differential.”
Jack ran a finger under the waistband of her panties. “I think you do,” he whispered.
She shivered when he pulled her pants and underwear down. “Will there be music? Or are you going to parade my naked self around the ballroom in silence?”
“I picked a special song for the two of us.” He grinned. “And you won’t be naked. You’ll be wearing the necklace.”
She ran her hands down the front of his shirt, imagining how it would feel for her bare chest to rub against it while they danced. “You will undress at some point, right?”
He kissed her again. “Upstairs. Let me do this,” he said softly, stripping off the rest of her clothes, even her bra and panties. He laughed when he reached her socks. “Are those dinosaurs?”
Caroline liked wearing fun socks. She didn’t care if they were juvenile. She’d get away with it for as long as she could. “They’re wearing little Santa hats.”
Though he’d started to yank them down, he hastily pulled them back up to below her knees. “These can stay on. But only because they make you look so damn adorable.”
She tried not to think of what she’d look like wearing nothing but whimsical dinosaur knee socks and an emerald necklace, but the expression on his face indicated that Jack didn’t particularly care. He kissed her deeply before retrieving the necklace. He took his time placing it around her neck, then stepped back to look at her. It took all her effort not to blush. She hadn’t anticipated the night ending this way.
Jack tipped her chin up. “You look fucking marvelous.”
Her face had to be as red as a cherry. “Even with the socks?”
He brushed a stray hair out of her face. “There are few things sexier than a woman wearing an emerald necklace and dinosaur socks…and nothing else.”
She was going to call him a liar but his hands kept roaming down her body and a wanton smile was plastered to his face. His eyes, however, were glued to hers.
The jewels dropped almost to the space between her breasts. They hung dramatically, yet another reminder of how extravagant the necklace was. It lay cool and heavy against her chest.
“I feel a little exposed,” she said.
He ran a finger down her shoulder. “That’s because you’re naked and I’m not.”
The goosebumps were already rising on her arms and it wasn’t because of her proximity to her husband. “Can you go turn the heat up already?”
He spun around to adjust the thermostat and start the music. “You’ll warm up soon enough.”
Jack said he hadn’t wanted a waltz yet one of Caroline’s favorite pieces from The Nutcracker Suite was playing. She’d imagined dancing to this song with him. Dreaming about them whisking across the room in formal attire. Her in an evening gown, him in tuxedo tails. She’d wear the emerald necklace too, if it matched the dress. She’d hold onto that fantasy. Maybe they could act it out next year. Right now reality seemed a much better alternative.
He led her from step to step, her feet skidding over the wood a couple of times until he slowed his pace. “A little uncoordinated?” he asked.
She gave him the most perturbed look she could manage. “I’m not wearing a stitch of clothing and I don’t have any dancing shoes. Don’t you think you should cut me some slack? If I didn’t have socks on I wouldn’t be able to dance at all.”
His hand slid down to her ass. “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”
“I’m cold.”
“No, you’re not,” he said. His finger swiped her clit. “Are you enjoying yourself now?”
Caroline tried not to moan. She wanted to make this last a little longer, and she wouldn’t be able to do that if she started responding to him so quickly. “Maybe.”
He slid the finger inside her. “How about now?”
She closed her eyes. “That’s not bad.”
Jack started to kiss her neck. “You’re lying,” he whispered. Her fingernails dug into his back, and he pulled her closer. “I should punish you for lying.”
Had he ever talked to her like that before? They’d done plenty of fooling around and raising the stakes during the first two months of their marriage, but every night brought a new and better surprise. He slid two fingers inside her and was teasing her clit in the way that he’d learned turned her on faster than anything.
He bit her earlobe. “I want to watch that necklace swaying back and forth and bouncing against your breasts as I fuck you against the wall.”
Were they anywhere near a wall? She was about to drag him over to one. He was a smooth talker but those words sent her into overdrive. She was struck with an image of him with his pants unzipped, pressing her against the fancy wallpaper, thrusting between her thighs as he bit her shoulder. He’d be strong enough to hold her upright when it got to be too much for her. He’d never let her fall.
“Please,” she whispered.
“I love when you use that tone,” he said softly. “When you beg and plead but do it oh so politely. The way you whimper in my ear. You only speak that way to me. And I know exactly what to give you when you do it.”
Oh, dear Lord. She could come from his words alone. She tugged at his hair, panting into his ear. “Are we going to keep dancing?” she gasped. She hoped the answer was no. Please, please let the answer be no.
He grinned and removed his fingers, guiding her over to the wall. “No,” he said. “Unless you want to.”
Caroline reached down to unzip his pants. The quickest way to get any part of him back inside her. “Not particularly.”
The Bellator Saga: The First Trilogy (Dissident, Conscience, and Sojourn) Page 82