She’s startled back to the present by a metallic thud.
The clerk drops a key on the desk in front of her.
“You may not believe this, ma’am, but I’m a Christian and as such I kinda feel like it’s my duty to keep you off the road right now. You can have the room for free ’til sunup.”
“Thank you. I guess.”
“Also, I’m twenty-nine.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
Only when she’s almost to the room does she realize the clerk didn’t say anything about keeping her safe during a storm. He probably meant it was his duty to keep the road safe from her.
The room’s actually not as bad as she feared.
And there’s a phone.
A phone with a number her mother won’t recognize on caller ID.
“I’ve got bail money,” her mother answers, sounding bored. “Just tell me where you’re holding her.”
“How could you?” Amber cries.
“How could I what? Where are you?”
“I’m driving to Chapel Springs to murder you.”
“You’re going to murder me right now?” her mother asks.
“No, I was going to murder you once I got there.”
“Are you still drunk?”
“Stop deflecting!”
“So you are still drunk.”
“I am not still drunk. It’s been hours since I’ve had a drink.”
“Human hours or dog hours?”
“Now who’s being sarcastic?”
“I am! Because it’s five in the morning.”
“I called you fifteen times and you didn’t return one of my calls. Don’t act like I’m being crazy for no reason.”
“Okay. Fine. But we can agree that you’re being crazy?”
“Sure. Fine. Alright.”
There’s a silence on the other end. Thunder rolls outside. She can just make out the rustling of her mother’s comforter. She’s sitting up in bed, a sure sign she’s getting ready to talk some truth.
“So what did he do?” her mother finally asks.
“What did who do?”
“Caleb. What did he do when I told him?”
Amber’s so caught off guard by her mother’s directness and the resignation in her voice, she can’t manage a response at first.
“Oh my God,” she finally says. “Belinda was right. You told him for a reason. You were trying to make him jealous.”
“Pretty much, yeah. Did it work?”
“I’m not going, if that’s what you mean.”
“To the sex club place thing?”
“It has a name, but who cares? No. I’m not going. So yeah, you got your way.”
“Did you?”
“What does that mean, Momma?” But she knows exactly what she means, and the knowledge makes her voice sound shaky and weak.
“Honey,” her mother says. “I’m just gonna cut right to the point because it’s five in the morning and I don’t actually know where you are and I’m just hoping it’s someplace you’re not about to get murdered or washed into a ditch. But twelve years ago your father made a decision about what would be best for Caleb and what would be best for you. He made it without consulting me or anyone else, but he made it with his heart and the absolute best of intentions, I can assure you. And you know what, Amber?”
“What?” she asks.
“He was wrong. He was dead as a doornail wrong. And if you accept how wrong he was, you will not besmirch his memory or his name.”
I’m just tired, that’s all, she thinks, tears blotting out her vision as she sinks to the foot of the bed. I’m just tired and about to get divorced and stressed. That’s why I’m crying. That’s why I can’t speak.
“I’m going to tell you a story. I never told you before because as soon as Caleb grew up it stopped being my story to tell. And it was one of your daddy’s greatest regrets. But the night Tim and Abby were killed, when you all were up at the lake house and he decided to leave you there and take Caleb back to Dallas, he lost control. He and Caleb were in the car on the way to the airport and Caleb wanted you to come and he wouldn’t stop asking for you.”
Amber’s too startled by this information to even gasp. She’d always assumed Caleb’s grief for his parents had effectively killed his desire for her. Had taken whatever he’d felt for her on the boat dock that night and sent it into exile. But he’d asked for her. Even in the midst of all that pain, he’d asked for her.
“Well, he threw a fit is what happened,” her mother continues. “And your father pulled the car over and he shook him. He shook him and he said all sorts of terrible things. He told Caleb that our family was his last shot at ever having one. He told the boy that if he ever acted on his feelings for you, he’d lose that shot forever, that he’d be out on the street.
“And then he left him there. He drove off like he wasn’t coming back. Of course, he had a change of heart instantly. He was out of his mind with grief over Tim and Abby, you see. But by the time he turned back Caleb was gone. The boy had tried walking back to the house, but he got lost and it took your father hours to find him.
“Darling, your father had to do things in the Marines he never wanted to talk about. Hard things. But I can assure you, he didn’t regret any of them the way he regretted what he did to Caleb that night. He spent the rest of his life trying to make up for it. But he was convinced the only way you two could care for each other was if you were siblings, not lovers, and nothing I said ever changed his mind about that. He said brothers and sisters last forever, but teenagers fall out of love all the time. And Caleb couldn’t afford to have you fall out of love with him or vice versa. ’Cause what Caleb needed more than anything was a family and you had to be part of that family, no matter what. And like it or not––and I didn’t like it, not one bit–– there was only one way your daddy knew how to make that happen. Unfortunately, it was the wrong way.
“I guess I always thought you two would just grow out of it. That one day, you’d both be grown-up enough that you’d see y’all were made for each other and that your father had just been delaying the inevitable. But it’s not that easy, apparently. Even with Abel gone, it’s still not that easy. I guess I understand. Sometimes, if we wear them long enough, chains can seem like clothes.”
Her mother goes silent for a minute.
“You still there, darling?” she asks.
“Yes,” Amber croaks through her tears.
“Aw, honey. It’s easier to get over the mistakes of a bad man ’cause you can just dismiss the man. But the mistakes of a good man? Those are much harder to contend with.”
Someone pounds against the door. Amber jumps and leaps to her feet.
“Darling?” her mother asks. “You alright?”
Amber peels back one corner of the curtain. The man outside is so tall he blocks out the overhead light. And he wears a dripping Stetson and a light jacket.
“He’s here,” Amber says in disbelief.
“Who’s there?” her mother asks. “And where is there?”
“Caleb’s here. I’m in a motel and Caleb’s here.”
“Well, that escalated quickly.”
“It’s not like that.”
Another series of pounding knocks, followed by Caleb’s voice bellowing her name.
“Okay, well, I guess if I’d wanted more of an explanation I could have returned one of your ten thousand calls.”
“I should…”
“Yes, you should. You let that man inside, darling. You just go right ahead and let that man inside.”
Amber stands there for a second listening to the dial tone, realizing that as soon as she puts the phone back in its cradle she’ll be crossing a point of no return.
When she opens the door, he reaches up and pulls his hat off so she can see it’s him. The gesture sends raindrops spraying from the hat’s brim to the pavement beside him. How long was he out in the rain looking for her? How is it possible that he’s here at all? There’s fear in his bi
g, beautiful blue eyes and his tense mouth suggests he’s having trouble breathing.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asks.
“What are you doing?”
“Following you.”
“Well, come inside.”
When he steps across the threshold, he seems to fill the room. He sets his cowboy hat down next to the tiny boxy television. Then he begins to slide out of his jacket, one arm after the other, slowly, so as not to send raindrops spraying everywhere. And now there’s just the sound of the rain pounding the roof and the occasional roll of thunder and the occasional flash of lightning as the man she’s resisted for years greets her in an anonymous motel room.
He looks bigger than he’s ever looked before. Maybe it’s the room. Maybe it’s how close they’re standing. Maybe it’s what they did to each other just a few hours before. Or maybe it’s because she’s seeing him as a teenager, a teenager clawing his way through dark woods, sobbing and grief stricken and desperate to find his way back to the only family he’ll ever have.
“How long have you been following me?” she asks.
“I was parked outside your house. I was going to wait until you woke up but then you sped off so I followed you.”
“Why didn’t you call me? You knew I was awake once I was driving.”
“I thought you were going there, that place. The sex club.”
“I see.”
“Are you?”
“She won’t take me anymore.”
“Your boss?”
“Yeah?”
“Why’s that?”
Because of you, she thinks. Because she knows I’m in love with you.
“My mother…” The words leave her. She hasn’t closed the door all the way. She moves to it, shuts it with a final-sounding click.
“Is she okay?” Caleb asks.
“She told me what Daddy did to you the night your parents died. She told me about the woods. And what he said to you…”
Caleb looks away as if he’s been slapped. He’s never done that before. Looked away from her with a turn of his head so pronounced it seems as if some loud noise in the bathroom has stolen his attention.
“He did something to me that night too,” she says.
He looks back to her as quickly as he looked away.
“He took me aside and said I couldn’t go with y’all back to Dallas. He said he knew what happened down on the dock and that things were going to have to change. Did you know? Did you know he said something to me too?”
“No,” he whispers. “No, I just thought…”
“Just thought what?”
“I just thought…me being in your house, I thought it was too much for you, is all. And I thought you didn’t want to be with someone whose parents had just died. I thought my sadness…I thought my sadness drove you away.”
“Tell me that’s not what you thought,” she says, blinking back tears. “Please tell me that’s not what you thought for twelve years.”
“It’s not your fault. We didn’t tell each other anything. Nothing real, anyway. So how could you have known?”
“’Cause you were afraid if we did anything other than fight all the time, that he’d throw you out on the street. Was that it?”
“Something like that. Yeah.”
“How long were you in those woods, Caleb?”
“I don’t know.” His voice is hoarse. He makes no attempt to hide his tears. “But when I watched you marry Joel, a part of me felt like I’d never left ’em.”
He’s got her in his arms before she’s closed the entire distance between them. He’s so much bigger, so much stronger and more confident than the fifteen-year-old she kissed years before. And his embrace alone is intoxicating. The feel of his powerful hands stroking her back warms her entire body. His breaths rustle her hair, sending gooseflesh down her spine.
“Is it really going to be here?” she asks.
“Is what going to be here?”
“Our first real kiss is gonna be in this crappy motel room?”
“Second,” he says.
“Still.”
“Well…” he says, and then he releases her suddenly, and for a second she’s terrified she’s infuriated him by being too casual and sarcastic about a moment that could change them forever.
Caleb hurls the door open, but he only takes several strides before he turns to face her, arms thrown out, the heavy rain pelting his shirt and jeans, soaking his hair instantly.
“There’s no full moon,” he cries over a roll of thunder. “But I’ve waited this long, I could kiss you anywhere.”
She runs to him, leaving the door open behind her.
There’s no resistance. No fumbling. Their mouths meet instantly, then their tongues follow suit, and suddenly she’s cradled in his powerful embrace, so powerful he’s lifting her up onto the balls of her sneakers.
Several minutes go by before she even realizes she’s soaked from head to toe, and even then she doesn’t care. All her life she’s been afraid of lightning. But not now, not here. It could strike several feet from where they’re standing and still she wouldn’t be able to pull herself away from this kiss, this kiss she’s imagined countless times. And if lightning struck the two of them, then at least she’d die doing what she’d most wanted to do since she was a teenager.
Her hands come to rest against his chest. She realizes she’s been pawing at the collar of his shirt, that the top few buttons have come undone, and there’s his hard muscle, glistening with rain. And it’s like a second glorious revelation. She doesn’t just get to act on her love for him now, she gets to act on her lust too.
“See,” Caleb says, voice gravely, “we don’t always need a full moon.”
“That thing you said…”
“What thing?”
“About kissing me anywhere. Was it a promise?”
“Let’s go inside and see.”
Chapter 9
“Take it,” she whispers as Caleb pushes her closer to the bed.
He gives her another desperate kiss, then grips her chin in one powerful hand.
“Take what?” he rasps.
“All of it,” she says.
He kisses her again, drags the hem of her shirt up over her chest with both hands, then his fingers trace the edge of her breasts. His thumbs find her nipples and apply two pinpoints of pressure through the fabric of her bra. He rubs smaller circles, then bigger circles, then smaller. Then bigger. Smaller. Bigger.
“Take all of what, Amber?” He says this with the tone of a schoolteacher who knows the answer and is trying to get his pupil to say it.
“All of me,” she says.
He gives her a slight shove. She bounces on the mattress. When his weight comes bearing down on her, she realizes what she’s trying to do. She’s never spoken to anyone like this in the bedroom before. She wants to unleash him with her words, to set him loose upon her body.
She doesn’t want to work for it. She doesn’t want to ride; she wants to be ridden. More importantly, she doesn’t want to think. Doesn’t want to hesitate or falter or do anything but let him taste every inch of her. She wants him to take her the way he’s always wanted her, the way she’s always hoped he wanted her, and when he does it, she wants him to blast all thoughts of other people’s expectations from her mind.
If he were resisting, this approach would seem selfish on her part, childish even. But her commands have unleashed a torrent of growls and hungry kisses from the only man she’s every truly craved.
His fingers claw at the button of her jeans.
The door swings open behind him. Rain swirls in the room.
No one fills the doorway. Caleb just failed to close the thing all the way during their lustful dance back into the room.
He leaps to his feet and shuts the door so hard with both hands, the building shakes.
“Fuck this door!” he shouts.
“Or fuck me instead,” she says before she can think twice.
“Di
rty girl,” he growls, crawling onto her, hands braced on the mattress on either side of her, bending down to give her deep, lingering kisses. “Dirty, dirty girl,” he growls.
“Not unless you make me…” She hesitates over her next words, wondering for a second if it’s too much, if it might blow the whole thing. But when he unbuttons her pants and a flush of deliciously chilly air bathes the crotch of her panties, lust devours fear. In a hissing whisper, she says, “Not unless you make your little sister a dirty girl.”
His eyes widen. He grips her chin in one hand, stares into her eyes, as if this label were a kind of challenge. Did she just blow it? The passion uniting them is more than just some suppressed incest fantasy, and maybe her wording was too careless and heated and rushed. Why bring up the labels her father forced on them both? To destroy them, that’s why. To cast them into the fires of their newly released passion so they can be incinerated and replaced by something altogether different, altogether new. And maybe that’s what she really means when she tells him to make her a dirty girl––change me. Change us.
He’s kissing her like she’s something altogether different, that’s for sure. Then he licks his way up the side of her neck with the flat of his tongue while he palms the crotch of her panties gently with the heel of one hand, drawing figure eights that brush her clit at the top. She’s clawing at the buttons of his shirt, pushing it back over his shoulders, chills racing through her at the feel of his bare, muscular skin beneath her fingers, beneath her palms, beneath her desperate, hungry grip.
There’s so much of him. So much size, so much brawn. So much muscle and so much hunger. It feels like he’s everywhere on her at once, the sheer size of him distracting her from the fact that he’s just unfastened her bra and drawn it off her breasts with his teeth. Then he’s suckling her neck until he finds a special spot that makes her legs rear up off the bed and wrap around his waist—a spot no other man has found. Then he’s got one of her breasts in a powerful grip, squeezing it just enough that he gets the right angle on her nipple, which he tongues madly, then suckles, tongues madly, then suckles. And just when she feels consumed by this pleasure, just as he switches from one breast to the next, he peels the crotch of her panties back from her mound and fingers her folds, dazzling her clit for a few brief seconds before diving deeper into her wetness.
1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Nine Page 39