by BJ Wane
Brody and Ian had driven straight through to Missouri from Virginia where they both kept apartments, and hadn’t bothered to drive into Hope and check in with Gary before coming here. Brody shocked himself by how worried and obsessed he had been after getting Gary’s call. The level of his concern seemed out of proportion considering his limited involvement with her so many years ago, but it is what it is, he told himself. Right now, the important thing was to find out if Piper’s absence had been willing or not, and if not, what was the purpose? These were questions, he knew, were going to have to wait until she awoke, which, given the state of her exhaustion, probably wouldn’t be until tomorrow morning.
He heard Ian cursing from the kitchen as soon as he stepped through the door. Tossing his shoes down, Brody padded barefoot in his direction to see what had him riled up. “Didn’t you take care of that frustration in the shower?” he asked his friend and partner when another curse was followed by the slamming of the refrigerator door.
“Yes, which just made me even hungrier. Look at this.” Turning, he reopened the fridge door and pointed, his face a picture of bafflement and disgust. “What kind of person has nothing but health food crap and beer?”
Peering inside, Brody saw fresh vegetables, organic juice and milk, yogurt, as well as a few items he had never seen or heard of and had no interest in. Below these, on the bottom shelf, sat three six packs. “Maybe the beer’s for a boyfriend.” Brody recalled the way a few glasses of wine had made her tipsy, so he doubted the brews were for her. “Anything in the freezer?” He sure as hell hoped so, because he was with Ian on needing something substantial to eat, especially since they missed lunch.
“Fish,” Ian sneered. “Damn it, I need meat, red meat cooked rare. We passed a greasy burger joint about a mile up the road. I’ll drive over and pick up some burgers.”
“Get me two, and fries. Meanwhile, I’ll let the sheriff’s office know Piper’s back.”
“Is that all you’re telling them?”
“Yeah, for now. Until we talk to Piper, we won’t know what’s going on.”
“Have you considered she was taken to lure Charles out, that Pasquino doesn’t believe he’s dead any more than we do?” Ian asked, knowing they had to consider all angles.
“And they returned her when whoever’s here watching for Charles to show up either saw or heard we were coming instead? Yeah, I’ve thought of that, but I think they would’ve stuck around longer, or kept her longer, just in case. Either way, I’m sticking for a while. You in?”
“Rescuing a damsel in trouble is my favorite thing to do when not catching bad guys. Besides, I’m just as curious about what’s going on as you. But if we’re hanging, we’re shopping for real food, including meat.”
At the thought of nothing but vegetables, yogurt and fish, Brody said, “Make that three burgers.”
Catalina Island, Caribbean
“She’s safe, at least for now. Both agents Pearce and MacGregor arrived today.”
Charles Sandoval closed his eyes in relief as Doc gave him the news he had been hoping for, the guilt and worry plaguing him this past week easing somewhat. “They’re with her, at her cabin?”
“Yes. They arrived yesterday and seem determined to help her, thank God.”
These past few days had been the longest in his life and at finally hearing Piper was safe, he now knew there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to keep her that way. “You know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done.” Doc and Charles have been friends since they met when they were twelve years old. Neither had ever married, both of them too intensely driven with their careers to take the time or the interest. If Christine hadn’t died so unexpectedly, he knew he would still be with her, whether they eventually made it legal or not, but he had never even come close to feeling for another woman what he had felt for her, and he still mourned her loss. And thanks to Doc’s quick thinking when he got shot, he was able to get away from the casino before the feds or Pasquino could stop him. Piper’s startled cry had given him the split second warning he needed to throw himself sideways, allowing both bullets to cut cleanly through his left shoulder. Immediately seeing he was in no danger of dying, Doc managed to smear his blood, making it look like he had been hit in the chest and worse than it was.
“Let’s just hope this all works out, Charles. I’ll bet Pasquino’s planning on buying the Empire if you’re declared dead in two years. He really has it in for you and this latest threat just proves he’s not giving up.”
“He won’t get the Empire, and he won’t get to Piper now. Thanks again, Doc. Keep me informed, okay?” Charles hung up and leaned back in his chair, his gaze moving to the stunning azure view of the Caribbean Sea that he had from his veranda. Fleeing Pasquino five years ago, he had opted to lay low on Catalina, an island in the Caribbean that he had brought Christina to and fell in love with and one that wasn’t owned by the United States.
He had been pissed when he discovered that two of his employees were undercover feds, but he hadn’t been surprised. He’d been questioned more than once about his limited association with the man the feds had been after for years and had been very careful about keeping all records of their business hidden. Now his life was a mess and he had no one to blame but himself. He knew all about Antony Pasquino’s drug dealings before Antony had approached him with his lucrative offer, but Charles had been so desperate for cash to keep the Empire afloat during the recession he had jumped at the chance to save it. The casino had always meant everything to him, until Christina nothing was as important as his business. After her death, once again nothing was more important than that building, not until he saw Piper’s face when she witnessed the attempt on his life. He had loved Piper since she was a toddler, but it took that life altering moment to realize how much Christina’s daughter had come to mean to him, that his love for her was as strong as that of any parent for a child despite the fact she wasn’t biologically his and he would use whatever means necessary, even morally questionable ones, to see that she was kept safe from his mistakes. He had spent the first fourteen years after her mother’s death seeing that she got an excellent education and made sure she didn’t feel abandoned by diligently visiting her every month and he had naively thought that was enough for a young girl. He could only hope now that he wasn’t too late to make it up to her.
Chapter Five
Warmth from the early morning sun shining on her face woke Piper. Rolling over with a groan, she struggled to untangle herself from the twisted sheet while keeping her eyes shut against the glare. “Why the hell didn’t I close the blinds?” she grumbled as she finally managed to free herself and slid out of bed. Since her bedroom window faced east, she always made sure to close the blinds, especially if she had been up late the night before and would want to sleep in. The first step towards her bathroom elicited another groan as her entire body zinged with soreness, a full body encompassing ache the likes of which she hadn’t felt since those first weeks of making her daily two mile trek into Hope. Shuffling into the small bathroom, she struggled to remember what she had done differently yesterday to have caused such a reaction, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember anything. She had met Haley for dinner at the diner, talked about some of her new designs she was anxious to show her then promised to get some of them finished and to her today. Then they had walked down to have a beer at Rowdy’s, Hope’s only bar. The last thing she remembered was Crack, the gruff, tattooed, grey-haired ponytailed owner of the bar, insisting on driving her home because it had gotten dark.
Stepping under the shower, she tried to remember how much sewing she had gotten done last night, which items she had completed and were ready to display in Haley’s shop, but couldn’t seem to recall anything past leaving the bar. That totally blank slate had her worried as did the aches and pains making themselves known. Running soapy hands down her neck and over her breasts, she winced as that light touch proved her soreness wasn’t limited to her muscles. With a vaguene
ss that seem surreal, she recalled her dream, the hazy image of Brody Pearce’s face hovering above her, the even hazier recollection of his hands and mouth feasting on her flesh, of endless orgasms, another hard, male body, more hands, another mouth bringing her to climax after climax.
“Hell of a dream,” she muttered, wishing she could remember more and that the images and sensations weren’t so vague. But when she cupped her palm between her legs, the soreness in her pussy, and, God help her, the ache in her rectum couldn’t be denied. She had masturbated more times than she could count to the fantasy of having Brody back in her bed, but neither her fingers nor her vibrator had ever made her sore and she had never even thought about breaching her anus, had never even imagined pleasure could come from that orifice.
Worry and an inkling of fear slowly took hold as she quickly finished her shower, determined to get answers, her eyes now wide open and focused enough to note small bruises on her breasts and the insides of her thighs as she dried off. Fear now took precedence over worry. Grabbing a pair of comfortable gym shorts and tee shirt, her daily attire in the summer, she started to reach for her phone on the bed stand when the sound of male voices carried upstairs. The second floor of her cabin was an open loft and the only door up here was on the bathroom, where she headed after grabbing her phone. The distinct sound of Brody’s name followed by a voice she recognized as his had her swiftly switching gears, her steps taking her to the railing that overlooked the great room below, her temper spiking just as fast when she spotted him in her kitchen searching out pans and food as if he owned the place. Despite her soreness, she flew downstairs to confront the son of a bitch she had naively fallen for and had never managed to forget.
Ignoring the presence of the other man who looked familiar, her bare feet not making a sound even though she stomped across the room, she fisted her hands on her hips and demanded angrily, “Brody Pearce, what the fuck are you doing in my house?”
Brody turned, staring in surprise at Piper who stood glaring at him out of black fringed, snapping green eyes, their color no longer hidden by dilated pupils, her face pale with the exception of twin splotches of color on her cheekbones. Her damp, black hair fell in disarray to her shoulders, the inky color emphasizing her paleness. From her outburst and the look of confused mistrust she was aiming at him, it was obvious she didn’t remember last night.
Brody set the pan he was holding down and moved towards her, his arms extended to embrace her, but she quickly sidestepped him. “Piper, why don’t you sit down, I’ll fix us something to eat and we’ll talk.”
“Why don’t you keep your hands to yourself, talk then leave.” She didn’t know who she was more pissed at, him for unexpectedly showing back up in her life, or her for her reaction to seeing him again, a reaction that was just as strong, if not stronger than when she had been a gullible college kid and had allowed her infatuation to blind her to so much.
“That’s not what you were saying last night,” Ian said as he leaned against the counter, folded his arms across his chest and prepared for the fireworks he saw brewing between the two. Suddenly this gig looked like it could be quite entertaining.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Piper took the time to look more closely at the other man and finally remembered where she had seen him before. He was Brody’s FBI partner, the other man who had been in her father’s employ under false pretenses, pretenses she had wondered had anything to do with his death.
“You couldn’t be a little more subtle? It’s obvious she doesn’t remember what happened last night.” Brody glared at his friend before turning his attention back to Piper who was now watching both of them in confused irritation. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Getting more confused by the minute, Piper frowned as she thought back, but, other than the barely there images of her erotic dream, the last thing she could recall with any clarity was having a beer with Haley yesterday. “I had dinner with my friend, Haley, last night. We ate at the diner and then went to Crack’s place for a beer. It was dark by the time I was ready to head back here, so he offered to give me a ride. But…. I don’t remember getting back home. Why? What’s happened?”
“Piper,” Brody said gently, hating to add to her confusion and the growing trepidation he saw on her face, “that was three days ago. Today is Friday.”
This time Piper did sit, practically falling onto one of the stools at the counter. “How can that be?” she whispered in confusion as the thought of those missing days upset her more than seeing Brody again did. She didn’t stay seated long as another thought occurred to her. “I have to call Haley, she’s going to be frantic. I was supposed to have some designs to her on Wednesday.”
“Sit back down,” Brody snapped, then realized quickly that wasn’t the way to handle her. The Piper he knew all those years ago would have obeyed him immediately and then looked at him out of adoring eyes. The changes in her, he was discovering, weren’t all physical and she glared at him with a look that said plain and clear, ‘fuck off’.
“I don’t know what you’re doing here, either of you,” she added with a scathing glance towards Ian’s slouching figure and smirking face, “but I need to get hold of Haley now.”
“She’s the one who reported you missing to Sheriff Norton, who called us. When we arrived yesterday afternoon, you were here, in your bed, relatively safe. We let them know, so now the only question remains is where were you for two and a half days.”
Relieved that Haley wasn’t worrying herself sick over her disappearance, Piper sat back down, but not because Brody ordered her to. Frankly, she was shaking so hard from the inside out she didn’t want to risk falling in a heap at his feet. She might be tempted to stay there, especially if she was face level, or rather mouth level with his crotch. Unbelievable, she thought as she simply shut her eyes against the image of her going down on him right here in her kitchen, and when she factored in Ian’s presence, it was even more disconcerting to discover her simmering arousal ratcheting up. There had to be something seriously wrong with her to want him so much, after all this time, after learning of his betrayal of Charles and after she had forged a whole new life for herself far away from what happened in Atlantic City. But her response couldn’t be denied, it pulsed strongly between her legs, the lingering ache and soreness only fueling the fire stewing.
“Why would Gary call you?” she finally asked after she managed to delegate her lust to the back burner, at least for now. Looking him square in the eye, she questioned coolly, “How is he aware of our connection? Because I sure as hell didn’t tell him.”
Brody looked at Ian who simply shrugged. If he knew him, and he did, Ian would tell him to come clean now, and Brody would have to agree. Piper needed answers, and so did they. “We, the FBI, asked him to keep an eye on you, at first to make sure your identity was still a secret from the man who had hired the assassin that night and second to let us know if Charles showed up. I’m sure you know he hasn’t been seen since that night.”
“Charles is dead,” Piper returned flatly before shutting off any thoughts of the man she had thought of, and loved, as a father.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Ian said, making sure she got the whole picture. Brody had a soft spot for the woman, always had. He had thought he had gotten over it, but Brody’s reaction to her disappearance and since said otherwise. Poor sap, Ian thought cynically. “Without a body, there’s no proof.”
“I don’t need a body. There’s no way Charles would go this long without getting in touch with me, without at least finding a way to let me know he was still alive. I know what you, the FBI think, that he was working for some drug lord, but you’re wrong, you couldn’t be more wrong. Now, I don’t want to talk about him, or what you think he did or didn’t do. I want you gone.” Her demand would have been more convincing if it hadn’t come out in a desperate plea, because the truth was, those lost days had her scared, and them being here was the only thing keeping her from freaking out.
Brody heard the underlying panic in her voice, saw it on her face, and had to admire her bravado despite it. Didn’t mean he was going to leave, he thought, just that he admired her gumption in the face of adversity, something she had been lacking when dealing with Charles.
“Have you considered that your disappearance might have been a ruse to draw him out, get him to show his face again, so his enemy can take him out for sure?” he asked her.
“Then he wasted his time, didn’t he, because the only one to ride to my rescue was you, and, as you can see, I don’t need rescuing. Like I said, Charles is dead.” Piper hopped off the stool and strode over to the refrigerator, jerking it open. Shoving aside misplaced lust, worry, fear and uncertainty, she was going to pick up where she left off a few days ago as if nothing happened. “I feel like I haven’t eaten in days, hell, maybe I haven’t,” she mumbled as she started to pull out eggs, vegetables and cheese.
Setting her ingredients on the counter next to where Brody was still standing, she looked up into grey eyes watching her intensely and felt the instant response of her body, the painful stiffening of her nipples, the soothing gush of moisture from her pussy, and cursed herself for every kind of fool. “I’m fixing omelets. Do you want one?”
“Hell yes,” Ian said quickly. “After raiding your refrigerator, I don’t need to ask if we’re having bacon or sausage with it.”
“No, you don’t. The only meat I eat is the fish I catch myself. Deal with it. Afterwards, you’re going to tell me what happened last night. Now, get out of my kitchen until I call you.”