by Marie Wathen
“Wait, Marcus.” I hold my trembling hand against his chest. “I can’t. Please don’t do this. I couldn’t bear for something so ridiculous to come between what we have. If it didn’t work, you would forever believe that our relationship isn’t meant to be.” I’m barely containing my composure just thinking about him getting let down when our kiss fails to conjure the far-fetched phenomenon.
“Baby, I don’t need a fairytale to know that you are my unconditional love.” He captures my hand within his and slides it over the space where his heart rests and vows, “You are my Jagged Rock love, my be-all and end-all.” The intensity in the way he looks at me takes my breath away and my heart stirs with a magnetic pulse, drawing me toward him.
“Yes,” I whisper, feeling the goose bumps igniting and rushing along every inch of my flesh. The hairs on my arms rise while the enthralling force of this moment wills us toward each other, like a hunger that I’ve never experienced before. His lips hover only a breath away from mine. Without warning and all thought escaping my mind, I am the one to tip my head up, pressing my mouth against his. This kiss is oblivion, a long-awaited passion, revealing true love beyond some silly legendary story. A warm feeling shoots from my toes, moving up urgently and throughout my entire body while a crackle-like sound hums inside my soul, similar to a symphony’s crescendos. A surge of illumination glows beyond my closed eyelids, and Marcus’ arms squeeze tighter around me, responding as if he senses the magical union, too.
“Oh, my God, baby,” he murmurs, tilting his forehead against mine and flashing the most mesmerizing look ever to adorn his beautiful face. “I get it.”
Tilting my head, I ask, “Get what?”
“The legend,” he whispers, closing his eyes briefly, “Kissing you now made me feel…like I was struck by lightning.”
“For me, too,” I reply softly, noticing the matching goose bumps and raised hairs on his arms too.
He wraps me into a snug embrace, placing his chin on top of my head. He gasps, “Holy shit.” I glance up at him. He is unmoving and appears mesmerized. Looking in the direction his eyes are fixated, I peek over the boundary of the triangle’s point and spot a black mark, identical to the other four. It smolders from the intensity of a severe burn. The new magical lightning strike initiates us as the fifth couple of Jagged Rock’s legend.
Chapter Eleven
Breesan
“Nothing is working,” I mumble miserably, glancing over at Marcus sitting beside me on the back porch swing. Two more days have passed without so as much of a flicker of new information about the girls. “I’m going crazy thinking about the bad shit happening to Anna and Waverly. If we don’t find them soon...” I sigh heavily when he wraps an arm around me and draws me against his chest.
“I understand,” he says, breathing against my hair. “I wish I could offer you more hope that we’ll get them back soon, but the trail has gone cold again. Finding the last abductor is our only chance. I’m just afraid of what his intensions are with keeping Anna and Waverly. After killing an entire crew, it doesn’t make sense to return all of the women back to their families without even attempting to collect on any of their ransoms. Anna and Waverly’s are the highest. Perhaps that’s why he kept only them.” He shrugs, tightening his hold around me.
The nervous energy buzzing inside me forces me up from my seat, and I leave him swinging outside while I search for something to occupy my mind for a few moments. For the past two day, all I could focus on are my still-missing friends and the psycho bastard who chose them to stay behind. God only knows where he has them. Since we’re all but guaranteed that he isn’t anywhere near Willow, working the club isn’t necessary. But after arguing with Marcus for most of yesterday, I convinced him that I need the distraction more than ever now. My best argument was the facts he used, assuring me the guy isn’t here. He relented begrudgingly, but vows to remain at my side even if we have our full team on site. In the living room I grab up the remote and begin searching for any station that doesn’t have Anna, Waverly or my face plastered on it. Before I can switch channels, a voice that I recognize catches my interest. On screen a man that I’ve seen at one of the city functions is smiling. I find it weird and offensive that he could possibly find humor or happiness in anything while my friends still missing.
“…we received information that the lawyers with the family are releasing the identity in hopes that the abductors will respond to the significantly-increased ransom and return her safely to Willow…”
Ignoring him and my rising irritability, I switch off the television and stomp back into the kitchen. “Ugh,” I growl, dropping down onto the barstool at the island. The back door slams and Marcus stares at me peculiarly. “What’s wrong?” I ask, seeing him clutching his cell phone in his hand so fiercely that it looks like it’s about to shatter.
“We need to talk,” he replies seriously, coming over to sit on the stool in front of me. “Rhys called with some new information. I don’t know how we didn’t find this out before now, but it just made national news.” A heavy sense of foreboding courses through my blood. My eyebrows pull together while nervousness blooms in my belly.
“Oh, God, I’m going to be sick,” I moan. He shushes me, pulling my hand into his and tilting his head ever so slightly to capture my full attention.
“This is something altogether different, baby,” he smiles reassuringly before continuing. “What do you know about your father’s family?”
“Nothing,” I sigh, rolling my neck and feeling the tension in my muscles biting with the action. “Julia wouldn’t discuss him, ever.”
Grazing his thumb over my hand tenderly, he nods. “Well, apparently your father’s mother was Vivian Andrews.” He pauses, giving me a moment to recall her from my memory bank. A collection of landmarks with that name begins flashing in my mind like a slide show on Power Point; the library, a monument erected in the park and a plaque inside the castle that I noticed the one and only night I was allowed to enter, all donning her name. Immediately my hands lift, clamping over my mouth while my head shakes slowly and my eyes grow wildly.
“The Vivian Andrews,” he confirms.
“No,” I whisper through my fingers. “It can’t be true. Can it?”
He nods again. “It is true. The attorneys for her estate are searching for Breesan Madison Maxwell, the heiress to the Vivian Andrews fortune, which includes a large percentage of the land on Willow Island and the Renaissance Castle.” He smirks. “Guess that explains why you are so drawn to it.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, dazing and feeling like I’m in some odd dream.
“Your reward increased another ten million dollars.”
“Oh my God, Marcus,” I reply to the unbelievable revelation that I could be the granddaughter of the island’s wealthiest native. “How…? What do I…?” I can’t process everything fast enough to ask the right questions.
“Okay, this is overwhelming, but it’s going to be all right. Baby?” he whispers, sliding a hand beneath my chin and lifting my gaze up to meet his. “Seriously, it’s more than all right.” He smiles and the vice-like grip on my heart weakens somewhat hearing his reassurance, but I’m still finding it difficult to take in oxygen.
“Okay, okay…” I barely breathe my reply.
“You’re still you,” he states, drawing my hands away from where I’ve placed them against the sides of my face before he kisses me softly, his warm lips swiping tenderly over mine. “Yes?” he asks against my lips. I’m still me.
“Yes,” I confirm. “Wait…” A blip of a memory niggles deep within my head and I grasp for it, but it’s like a bubble floating just out of reach.
And your father, that bastard, thought he could keep it all from me.
“Julia knew,” I whisper harshly, pulling out of his hold. “She said something about my father keeping it all from her.” I dig deeper into my memory of the dream I woke up from a few days ago, but all too soon it’s absorbed into nothingness.
“Did I tell you that Julia called me while I was in Key West?”
“What?” I ask puzzled. “Why would she call you?”
“She was hysterical and angry, insisting that it was of the utmost importance that I locate you. She said she couldn’t fathom why someone would abduct you and that she refused to believe it. She felt you managed to escape from the captors and were possibly hiding out at home. It wasn’t a hunch. She must have known that you were with me.” His eyebrows narrow in and a fine line crosses his mouth, apprehension playing heavily with him revealing the next bit of information. “She told me that she wouldn’t be putting up a ransom for your safe return.”
“That’s not surprising,” I say. “But, if she didn’t offer up all of that money, then who?” Heat tints his cheeks and he looks down at my black tennis shoes like they are the most interesting things in the world. “Marcus, did your family put up the ransom money for me?”
Shaking his head, he glances up at me from beneath his thick eyelashes and a small twinkle plays in his gorgeous emerald eyes. “No.”
I tip my head toward him. “You?”
He nods, a somber look replacing the happiness that was there just moments ago, clearly afraid of my reaction. “It’s not like I won’t get it back.”
“Right, because I’m not missing after all.”
“Exactly,” he smiles again seeing that I’m not angry.
“But…” He stares at me, seemingly holding his breath waiting for me to finish. “If it had been real…”
“Without a doubt or hesitation, I would risk everything I own and sacrifice all that I am for your safety because you are worth it all.”
“Marcus–” He cuts me off, drawing me against his chest.
“Let’s not think about it, Breesan. You’re here safely in my arms.” I nod, my cheek rubbing against his tee-shirt.
Reminded again about my friends who are so much less fortunate than I am at the moment, I redirect the focus back to this unbelievable family secret and hope that it will provide more than financial stability. This must be why I am a target.
“So, about this inheritance. Do you really believe this is possible? I mean, I don’t know how something like this could have been kept from me for so long.”
“Rhys said it was a sealed trust, but I’m certain that Julia knew all along,” Marcus tells me, taking a seat in the chair on the corner of the island. “According to the press release, you were supposed to receive the money after your nineteenth birthday. When everything settles down, we’ll dig more into the logistics of it and perhaps then we’ll discover why you almost died that day.” He glances out the backdoor staring reflectively, no doubt reliving those horrid moments leading up to his cousin getting shot.
“Marcus, something else happened that day,” I announce, remembering my stepmother’s phone call on that midsummer morning. “Julia was outside speaking with someone on her phone about me and her plans for my birthday. I overheard her call the person ‘son.’” His eyes narrow severely. “But she never talked about children. I actually thought she despised kids, but with the tender way she spoke on the phone it seemed as though she was a completely different person. My lord, is it possible? Do you know anything about Julia having a child?”
“Except for you and your dad, I didn’t know she had any other living family. The information we received in her dossier never mentioned any other children, or an ex-husband, if she married her son’s father.” Casandria was presumed dead, so they wouldn’t have known about her. He runs a hand through his soft hair before asking, “Do you remember anything else from her phone call?” A shiver runs through my body remembering that the end of that night was a bloodletting which ripped my soul out of my being when Tristan was shot, simply because they want this money.
“She was adamant that I go with her to the castle for dinner that night, which we know is out of norm for her. I was totally shocked that she wanted to take me there, but then…” I recall her instructions to the person on the phone. “Her son must have offered something else and she mentioned some women being there, oh God…what were their names? They were foreign, I remember that much. And she said that, she and his father were expecting him to do it today. Those were her exact words.”
“That confirms it,” Marcus says bitterly, the green in his eyes darkening with anger into a rich forest shade. “She arranged the shooting and her son was either one of the shooters or the person on the inside giving the order. Fuck, he must be Major.” He stands, thrusting his chair backwards and pacing across the room toward the hallway with his phone pressing against his ear. “Kole,” he shouts into the phone, forcing a hand into his hair. “Get me more background on Julia. And for fuck’s sake find out the identity of her goddamn son…” he pauses, listening to Kole for a moment. “Good!”
“I think I need to talk to Casandria about all of this,” I tell him after he disconnects from Kole. He comes back over, kneeling down in front of me. His growing bangs slip over one eyebrow and I run my hand up, pushing them aside. “She’ll know the history of my dad’s family and possibly know about Julia’s son.”
“Breesan,” he pauses, watching me briefly before asking, “What if she came back for this inheritance?” I flinch backward, fisting my hands in my lap. “I’m just saying there must be another reason she came here.”
“She came for her sister’s funeral, Marcus. How could she possibly know about my inheritance if she didn’t even know that I was alive?” I ask defensively.
“Okay, her coming here before the revelation of your identity could be a coincidence,” he agrees, wrapping his hands over mine. “I just don’t know how much I trust her. I need to dig into her story.”
“Hey, I understand being a detective is innate and causes you to suspect until someone earns your trust. And that’s fine.” I argue, “But until she gives me a reason not to trust her, I don’t want to push her away. This relationship, although it is biological, isn’t natural for either of us yet. If her story is true, I must…I want to give us a chance to figure it out. Don’t you understand how important having her back in my life is to me?”
“Of course, I do,” he argues back, completely out of character, “But I won’t allow anyone to harm you. Not even your mother. You are the most valuable thing in my world.” Rising up and towering over me, he sighs and calms instantly while staring into my eyes. He slips his fingers under my chin and tilts it upward. “You’ll be cautious?”
“Yes,” I promise, rising out of my chair and wrapping my arms around his narrow waist. The information we’ve discovered and shared has my mind scrambled, but being in Marcus’ arms sorts them all out appropriately. No matter what, this man means every word about needing me safe.
“I need to meet Kole. Tac has some info after visiting with Tox. We’ll get down to the bottom of all this bullshit. I promise,” he whispers over the top of my head while stroking a hand down the full length of my hair, stopping at the waistband of my jeans. “You call her and I’ll come over later to take you to work.”
I nod and squeeze him tighter, expressing how much I appreciate him dealing with my need to pursue this relationship with my mother. “I love you, Marcus.”
“Baby,” he leans away somewhat from our embrace, looking down at me, “I love you so much.” His lips meet mine in a deep kiss, revealing his desires, but most importantly it expresses how precious I am. He links our hands together, towing me behind him toward the front door. After another long kiss, he steps outside and I spin around in search of my cell phone.
After two rings, Casandria answers, “Hello?”
“Hi…” Thinking that she could hold the answers to a variety of new questions and issues, I stammer oddly, “Hi, it’s Breesan.”
“Oh, hi, Breesan,” she says sweetly. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes,” I reply and take a deep breath. “I work tonight, but I was wondering if you would come by before I have to go to the club. I mean, if you want, I mean–”
“Okay, thank you.”
After disconnecting, I let out a heavy breath. Why am I suddenly nervous about seeing her? After our initial meeting, I’ve found comfort in her presence, but now, knowing that she could reveal some details of my family history, I’m kind of weirdly freaking out.
Three hours later, Marcus returns just as Casandria is walking out to her car. I watch their small exchange as he parks his Jeep next to her white rental and they speak cordially. He continues walking toward the house but pauses, turning around to say something else. She smiles and nods her head before getting into her car. Catching him by surprise, I open the door and wave back at Casandria as she pulls away from the house.
“Hi,” he pulls me into a kiss immediately. His hands roam down my back, grabbing my ass firmly. Moving further inside the house, he kicks the door closed behind him and walks me backward toward the stairs. “I missed you desperately.”
“Mm, so it would seem.” I laugh softly against his lips. The backs of my heels bump into the bottom step, but he continues to urge me on. We climb the full staircase while locked in a deep, needful kiss, working our way toward the bedroom. A familiar Jason Mraz melody croons from my iPod. Once inside, he breaks our kiss and begins pulling away his gray tee-shirt and reaching for mine while swaying our bodies seductively to our song. Singing along with the lyrics, he vows not to give up, even if the skies get rough. His hips grind into mine and I’m instantly burning with a fierce need to take what is mine. We work fast at removing the remainder of our clothes until we are left standing naked in the middle of my bedroom, dancing through the last chords. Marcus is making me fall even more in love with him.
“Shower with me?” he asks, pressing his mouth to mine in a hard kiss, his hands moving slowly up my arms and shoulders before stopping on either side of my neck. I need to tell him everything that Casandria shared about my dad’s family, but I guess it can wait until later.