"There you go! Good as new."
I looked round to see my shoulder for the first time, the skin so much paler than everywhere else on my body.
"You'll have to get the tan to match up," he laughed.
"It doesn't even look like it should be a part of me," I grimaced as I prodded the wrinkled white skin.
"It'll look a little peculiar for few hours but it'll be back to normal in no time and you'll have forgotten the cast was ever even on.”
I flexed my arm and felt the blood rush into the socket.
"Weird," I said.
He smiled.
"Let's see for a moment."
He lay his cool hands on my arm with the gentlest of touches, moving my arm in a circle to ensure it had healed.
"Very good," he said. "Perfect. You've been very lucky. The bullet penetrated the muscle and only fractured the bone. An inch either way and it could have shattered your shoulder."
"Or killed me," I said.
"Erm... Yes. Or that."
For the first time, I could see the scar, the perfect circular patch of skin that was pink and bumpy. I ran my finger over it and shuddered. It felt alien on my skin like it shouldn't belong there.
"That should fade with time. You'll always have a mark but there are various creams that can help with the scarring."
"I guess it'll always be a good conversation piece," I said.
"Probably not something to whip out at the dinner table, though," he smiled.
~
As soon as I walked out the building the heat hit me and I groaned.
"Jesus, it's as hot as Satan's asshole in this state. God forbid I have to be here in July.”
After a few weeks, the novelty of an endless summer had worn off and I was now in need of a tall drink with plenty of ice. As I climbed into the waiting limo, I called Trevor, but there was no answer. I tried again but there was still no answer.
"Come on, come on, Trevor. Answer the phone."
Once again it went to his answer phone. I threw my phone into my bag in a huff and slammed the intercom button.
"Take me to the fanciest restaurant around here," I said to the driver.
"Of course, miss."
Searching through my purse, I fingered one of Trevor's credit cards. If he didn't want to spend time with me then he was at least going to show me a good time whether he was here or not. If only I had a couple girlfriends to share the experience with, or maybe even my mom. I made a mental note to call her today.
As I sat back and watched the beautiful scenery outside, I wondered what it would be like to live somewhere like this. You'd probably grow up thinking everywhere was so perfect and shiny, with the sun glinting off the white sands and the sea shimmering green. It was a million miles away from the town I was born in, a tiny place that boasted to have the state's largest Christmas decoration store and little else. In such a short space of time, I had gone from living there, to being in a limousine here. I was now a spoiled billionaire's girlfriend. If only the popular girls from high school could see me now...
Still, it wasn't as though things were perfect. Since our spat at the country club, he had hardly spoken to me. If I could have turned back time and kept my mouth shut I would have but I never could. It was a trait that both opened doors and got me into trouble and it hurt so much to think that Trevor and I weren't speaking and it was my fault. I'd do anything to make it up to him, as long as he'd let me get close enough to try.
The car slowed down at a beachfront restaurant with the area's signature art deco architecture. I climbed out as I put on my sunglasses.
"Thanks, driver," I said.
He tipped his hat at me before pulling the car into the car park. As I walked in the door, I realized that this was the first time I'd ever been in a restaurant alone before. There was just something so shameful and sad about eating alone in a place where everyone could watch. Still, I was desperately lonely and had no desire to return to the gargantuan Wylde Mansion only to be ignored by Trevor as he stomped through the halls.
"Table for one, please," I said.
A young man was on reception, his red waistcoat matching the decor of the building. He had dark, beady eyes and dyed blond hair with a little, upturned nose that gave the impression that he was eternally offended.
"Do you have a reservation?" he sneered.
"No... I do not."
Looking behind him, I saw that most the tables were taken.
"I'm afraid you'll need a reservation."
I sighed.
"Sorry... I don't have one," was all I could say.
He was looking at me as though expecting me to leave and when I didn't, he stared some more and raised his eyebrows. A waitress noticed my discomfort and walked over to him. Whispering something in his ear, I watched as his expression changed in an instant.
"Aaaaand I've made a terrible mistake," he said. "Right this way."
The waitress smiled and gave me a little nod of acknowledgment.
"Thank you," I silently mouthed.
"I follow you on Twitter," she said.
After being seated by the window, I looked down at the menu and realized I had no idea what any of it meant. Written in French in a long, scrawling script, I suddenly felt ignorant. When the waiter returned for my order, I merely pointed at words and hoped it wasn't disgusting. When my dish was brought over, I was pleased to see a plate of lobster and breathed a sigh of relief. It was now time to call mom. She answered on the third ring.
"Sweetheart!"
"Hey, mom."
"How's everything down there?"
"Yeah, great! How's New York?"
"Cold, it's snowing now but your brother and I have been out shopping and sightseeing every day. It's a wonderful place. This afternoon we're going around the museums."
"I'm sure Stephen will love that."
We both laughed. Stephen had the knack for being wildly underwhelmed by the most amazing things. After going to Grand Canyon on a school trip he'd returned and said it was shit. The following year as a tornado ripped through our town, we'd been boarded up in the house terrified and praying that it would all end quickly without our home being torn apart. Stephen had spent the day on his PlayStation complaining that he was bored.
"So, have you got a tan?" asked mom.
"The best!"
"I'm so jealous. Your father and I always planned to go to Florida sometime but never managed it."
"I'll bring you down here," I said.
She started to say something but she was being interrupted by Stephen who was loudly talking over her.
"Jesus, will you get him to shut up."
But he grabbed the phone from her and started babbling.
"Sis, have you seen any great white sharks yet?"
"What?"
"Sharks, sis. How many have you seen?"
"Erm... I don't think there are any great white sharks in Florida, Stephen."
"Oh..."
He sounded so disappointed he might cry.
"How are you anyway?"
"Fine," he grunted.
"Just fine?"
"Yeah... I mean, it's pretty awesome here in your apartment without you."
"Thanks..."
"I've been seeing loads of the city. Mom said after we go to the museum of modern art that she'll let me go to Vinegar Hill."
"Ok, please don't go there. I'm begging you."
"Whatever."
He disappeared for a moment. I could hear him bickering with mom as though he was trying to get her out the room. Eventually, I heard a door slam shut and he came back on the line.
"Have you seen the news?"
It was a reasonable enough question but I knew exactly what he meant.
"Yeah... I've seen the news."
"That officer we saw that day at the station. He's freakin' dead now. They're saying some gang shot him down in cold blood. How crazy is that?"
"Pretty fucking crazy."
"He was a creep, though, ri
ght? I remember the way he looked at you. I wanted to smack him in the face."
I thought of Stephen smacking anyone and burst out laughing.
"Yeah sure you would have. He was like six foot six and built like a brick shithouse."
"I would have! I mean, I'd probably break my hand on his face or something but I would have done it. But seriously? Did you see how big he was? Like he literally had a bicep in his face."
"Of course he did."
"He was a beast! And to think he was just shot down in broad daylight like that. I guess muscles don't mean shit when you're faced with a bullet."
My stomach churned. Suddenly the idea of lobster didn't seem so appetizing and I pushed it around my plate for a moment before sliding it over to the other side of the table.
"It's weird," Stephen continued. "Like we saw him one day, then he was like dead the next. Tammy, I've ever known someone to die. Have you?"
I thought back for a moment.
"There was a girl in my school who died from brain cancer when I was in fourth grade, but I didn't know her too well. It was weird, though, just seeing someone walking around one day then hearing that they don't exist anymore."
"It's going to sound so weird but I just can't seem to get my head around it. Also, it's hard to get it outta my head when it's on the news every day."
I was feeling more nauseous by the second.
"I have to go," I said.
"And I can't stop thinking that his family must be going through hell. Like, he had a wife..."
"Stephen, I have to go now. Give mom a hug for me."
I hung up with a heavy heart. This was a nightmare. It would seem that Aiden's death would haunt me forever and I couldn't' shake the feeling that Trevor had something to do with it. He could pay anybody off to do anything. All he'd have to do was make a phone call. Would he really do that because of me? Did I drive Trevor to commit murder? Had he done it before?
Signaling for the waiter, I asked for my bill and climbed back into the waiting limousine where the driver was reading a paperback with his feet on the dashboard. He hurried to lower them when he saw me approach and jumped out to get the door for me.
"What you reading?" I asked.
"Something about some rich guy who has enough of his life and starts killing people," he said.
"Sounds charming."
When the car pulled up outside the house, I lingered inside for a moment, knowing that as soon as I saw Trevor, I'd have to bring the whole gnarly subject up again and we'd argue. Maybe some people would have just kept their mouth shut and moved on with their life but I just couldn't. I needed to know.
"You took your time," Trevor said as I walked into the main hall.
"I went for lunch."
"With who?"
"I went alone...seeing as you refused to answer your phone."
"There was a thing I needed to sort out in the office. Had to make a few calls."
I knew he was lying but said nothing.
"How come you're wearing your blue, Prada brogues? You only wear those when you know you have to walk somewhere."
He gave me a suspicious look and moved toward his office.
"Since when did you become a detective?" he sneered.
This already wasn't going very well. I followed him into his office and as he sat at his desk, I saw the glimpse of something in his hand.
"What's that?"
"Nothing."
He tossed it furtively into the top drawer of his desk.
"It looked like a box."
"I told you, it was nothing!" he snapped.
"Fine!"
I held up my hands as a sign of surrender.
"You keep your secrets... What do I care?"
Noticing the movement in my left arm, he pointed at it and said;
"How's the arm? You looked so cute with that cast on as well."
His mood had changed and he smiled.
"It's ok," I said as I rolled my arm around to demonstrate. "Feels super weird, though."
"Aw... Well, I think you were very brave to have gone through that."
"Any chance of a hug? You know, because I'm a brave warrior and I need my prince right now."
"Come here."
He slapped his lap and I hurried over to sit on it, cozying myself into his arms as I kissed his cheek.
"I missed you today."
"I'm sorry, honey. I was busy but I promise there'll be no interruptions tonight. See this?" he showed me his phone. "It's going off and it's staying off until tomorrow."
"Sounds perfect."
It would seem things were back to normal but I still couldn't rid myself of the dark feeling in my gut, the one that told me I should find out once and for all if Trevor was involved in Aiden's murder. He sensed me tensing up and rubbed my back.
"Everything ok? You look worried about something."
"I'm ok," I lied.
"You don't look ok."
"I am!" I insisted. "I really am."
Removing the shawl from my shoulder, he touched his fingers to the scar then kissed it.
"You know you can tell me everything, right?"
"Uhuh."
I nodded.
"But I'm fine. There's nothing wrong."
He stared into my eyes as though he was trying to decipher my thoughts.
"You're not still thinking about that police officer's death, are you?"
I said nothing.
"You are! You still think I had something to do with it!"
"Not exactly it's just that-"
"I knew it!"
He moved to stand up and I had no choice but to tumble off his lap and fall into his desk. Perching on the edge, I raised my hands to his face but he pushed them away.
"You still think I'm some sort of psycho murderer!"
"No! I don't it's just that... just that..."
"Fucking spit it out!"
"It's too much of a coincidence!" I shouted.
"Coincidences happen, Tammy. Do you not think that maybe he was an asshole and had it coming anyway? From what I've heard he was a dirty cop involved in just about anything, including fucking my girlfriend inside a police station! But you think I'm a murderer..."
He slumped back down in his seat and hung his head in his hands
"I can't believe it," he said.
He shook his head from side to side.
"Maybe other men would have done something to the guy, thugs with no iota of self-respect but that's not me. I don't involve myself in that petty shit."
"I'm sorry! It's not that I think you're a bad guy. I don't think that at all but I can't get it out of my head. It's driving me insane."
"What do you want me to do? Eh?"
He flung up his hands and stood back up, pacing back and forth in front of his window.
"You want an alibi, eh? You want a fucking alibi? Or would that mean nothing because you think I'm so rich I can just think something and it happens."
I'd never felt more rotten or lousy and slid down to the floor sobbing.
"I'm sorry! Please... I'm not trying to be a bad person. It's just all so crazy. He's alive one day and dead the next, I can't get my head around that."
He looked down at me and his face softened as he saw me lean against the desk, the tears falling down my cheeks. He crouched down beside me and wiped them from my face.
"Look... You made a mistake and I moved on. Can I ask you to do the same thing?"
I nodded and nuzzled into his neck, pulling him so close to me that I could feel his heartbeat.
"I can move on," I said. "I'll at least try."
Chapter Five
We made love sweetly with our lips never leaving each other's, not for the briefest of moments, not for a single second. People say angry sex is the best but I think makeup sex is better, it's love in its purest form, the distinct ambition to do nothing but please the other person and receive nothing in return but their devotion.
Lying in bed with the warm breeze billowi
ng over the bed sheets, I looked at Trevor as he slept on his stomach, his arms hugging the pillow. He was snoring softly and I smiled at hearing the cute sound that was coming from the manliest of bodies.
He'd fallen asleep the moment after reaching his third climax but I was still wide awake, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of the distant traffic as it rushed through the night like ocean waves. Aiden... He had a wife, something I should have known. But I had the most vivid of memories of seeing his hands as he held me. There was no wedding ring. Did he take it off? And if so, when?
Unable to settle my mind, I pulled on my silk dressing gown and walked downstairs. The air was balmy and humid and I ventured into the kitchen for a glass of water, making sure to drop a liberal handful of ice into the glass.
"He had a wife," I said into the darkness before walking outside.
Sitting on the edge of the pool, I dipped my feet into the water and felt the coolness between my toes. Then I looked up at the palatial house behind me and could scarcely believe that I was living in it. It was enormous, more of a hotel than a house. So far, I'd been lost in it four times and had to call Trevor to come get me. The hallways twisted and winded like a labyrinth with stairs that seemed to come of nowhere. I wondered what it would have been like staying here as a child. Would it have been homely? Or would they have scared each other silly with ghost stories of maniacal witches that lived in the attic? I could imagine what Stephen would be like growing up here, he'd probably tell everyone there were ghosts in every cupboard.
Suddenly, thinking about my family, I became tearful, but quickly swallowed down the lump in my throat. There had been too many tears today already. But I have a family, and Aiden had his and somehow, in my sleepless state it all seemed so confusing yet interconnected. I couldn't imagine what his children were doing right now? Were they wide awake waiting for their daddy to return? Was his wife crying under the covers at the thought of his bullet-ridden body?
Pulling my phone out my dressing gown pocket, I clicked on his news story. I'd read it a dozen times already and was just as incredulous each time. But there was one thing I hadn't remembered, his wife's name, Patricia.
Too Curious Complete Series (Books 1-5) Box Set Romance Series: (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Series) Page 23