Encore (Descendants of Ra: Book 4)

by Tmonique Stephens

  Whatever softness she spotted on his face vanished. A mask dropped over his features. “Detective McCabe requested my presence. Didn’t know you would be here, too. Should I leave?”

  He didn’t come here for her. Wasn’t stalking her, conspiring to bump into her at some random location. Like bumping into someone at the morgue was random. She managed to shake her head and resumed walking.

  I should thank him, but she didn’t have the energy to speak, especially as his shoulder brushed hers every few feet.

  A new scent hit her, a stronger antiseptic smell overlaid with decay. Her stomach lurched, and a shudder traveled from the top of her head to tips of her toes. She sucked in a shallow breath and willed herself not to faint.

  “Miss Gamble?” A man in a lab coat asked.

  She couldn’t answer.

  “Ma’am?”

  “Emeline?” Avery gripped her shoulders, stopping the impulse to bolt, screaming into the street. “Breathe, baby. You’re the only one who can do this. Then we can give your grandfather a proper burial.”

  Burying Grand. That’s all that mattered. Not him. Not her. She locked her knees and turned to the tech. “Yes, I’m Emeline Gamble. I’m here to i-identify my grandfather.”

  Avery took her hand. Warmth seeped into her stiff fingers as they followed the tech into a tiny, pea soup green viewing room. What a god-awful color. Emeline stared at the brown curtain hanging on the other side of the viewing window, knowing what was about to happen, yet completely unprepared.

  “Please, wait here.” The tech left through a side door.

  Emeline glimpsed the white and stainless steel room on the other side. Disinfectant and decay wafted from the room. Emeline swayed.

  I can’t do this. Can’t do this.

  Then Avery was there. His solid body and strong arms were something real to hold onto. She clutched him, fingers digging into the leather sleeves of his coat. His lips brushed her temple; his breath fanned her hair. Thank you, God.

  Avery mumbled something. The words were lost when the door opened and a different man entered the room. Salt and pepper hair, slightly hunched, the nametag on his lab coat read Doctor Mead. He greeted them with a soft handshake and spoke. Avery had to answer for her because the curtains had parted with a soft whoosh.

  Compelled to the window, Emeline moved forward. One foot in front of the other until she had a full view of the shrouded body on a metal stretcher. An ache started low in her chest and fired through her veins. A flash of sorrow rocked her soul, shook the foundation she stood on. She wanted to close her eyes on his death and her failure, but that would allow her to pretend this moment wasn’t truly happening. A small part of her had already started to do that.

  Pretending.

  Wishing away her grandfather’s death. Her practical self wanted to ignore reality and allowed the irrational hope to grow. Now, she was one blink from shattering.

  Without further preamble, the tech who had led them into the room pulled back the top of the sheet.

  “What the hell is that?” Her hand pressed against the glass separating her from the dried husk of a body.

  “That, Miss Gamble, is the body of Wilbur Gamble,” Doctor Mead said.

  Her head jerked from side to side. “That is not my grandfather!” She shouted and spun to Avery. “Tell them.”

  He stood beside her and stared at the thing on the table. “He’s baked. What happened to his body?” He cut a hard glance at the M.E. and McCabe.

  “What did you do to my grandfather?” Fist clenched, she rushed over to the doctor. McCabe stepped between her and the M.E.

  “I was hoping you could answer that question, Miss Gamble and Mr. Nicolis, since you were both present at the fire when he died.”

  “If that’s Wilbur Gamble, we have no idea how he came to be like that.” Avery pointed at the withered husk on the other side of the room.

  “If? Are you saying that’s not my grandfather?” She could hear the panic in her voice, yet couldn’t dial it down.

  “Ma’am, from the tissue samples I ran and compared with Wilbur Gamble’s prior hospital stays, I assure you, that is your grandfather.” Doctor Mead’s practiced calm demeanor had the desired effect.

  Emeline inhaled a steady breath. She returned to the window and stared. The shell of a human being lying on the steel stretcher was Grand. Everything inside her said no. That was not the vibrant man who had raised her and saved her life.

  “Do you have any idea how he came to be this way?” Mead asked.

  “No.” She sobbed. Restrained tears broke free and competed with the sobs scratching her throat raw. Her knees gave way, and the scuffed linoleum rushed toward her face. Abruptly, the viewing room fell away, replaced by glimpses of the corridor. His arms surrounded her, his body sheltered her, cleansed her with the aftershave he rubbed on his skin. Emeline buried her face in his neck and held on.

  Frigid air chilled the tears on her cheeks. In the next instant, she was inside a car, her face rubbing the leather of Avery’s coat, the drone of traffic whizzed all around them. All of it crashed together in her mind drowning her in a void she welcomed with open arms. Let go, that’s all she had to do. Close her eyes, shut down her scrambled mind, and let Avery take care of everything. At the last second, she pulled back and ripped herself out of his arms.

  They were in a cab. Streets whooshed by, yet she only had eyes for him. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Home.” The word had never sounded so grim.

  His home? “RockGate is not my home.”

  “I wasn’t taking you to RockGate. I know you don’t want to be there.”

  Then where? She didn’t have a home anymore. The townhouse she’d grown up in wasn’t home anymore. Too many ghosts. Too much loneliness. Yet, it was the only place she had. The only refuge left to her. Her heart had begun to accept Avery as her ‘home’. Now—

  He rapped on the Plexiglas partition separating the driver from his passengers. “Pull over.” The cab rolled to a stop. He didn’t hop out but seemed stalled. “If you need anything…to talk…whatever…I’m here.”

  Then he was gone. How could he be here and gone at the same time? Without waiting for her answer, no preamble, he left.

  That is what she wanted…right?

  Chapter Thirty

  “Stop reminding me.” EJ groused, which made Ridley giggle all the more. Her laughter, whether with him or at him, caused a bubble to expand and contract in the center of his chest.

  “It’s hard not to when you’re staring at pictures of your brother’s ass.”

  She did have a point. All around them, pinned to the walls of the Nicolis cabin in upstate New York, were blown up pictures of… his mostly naked brother. Son of a bitch.

  “Are you gonna help or continue to point out the obvious,” he said.

  “I’ve been helping for three days and so far…nothing.” She stretched out on the sofa.

  “Not nothing. We’ve deciphered several passages.” Yet, he didn’t know how much more time to give to this.

  “None led us closer to a cure.”

  “Do you want to give up?” He couldn’t look at her, not when he’d failed.

  “Give up? Never. But this isn’t working.” She swung her feet over the edge and sat up. Next, she paced. “Thanks for everything—”

  “No need—” He waved her away.

  “For helping me…you didn’t have to do it.”

  Have to? “Wanted to.” His voice deepened on its own.

  Her eyebrows quirked. “After everything I did, it surprises me.”

  Yeah. What about that? “You had good reason. Who’s to say I wouldn’t have done the same?”

  “I say. You wouldn’t have—”

  “Don’t make a saint out of a sinner. I’ve done my share of killing along with some unsavory shit I never want to be reminded of. If I was fighting to save my kid…” He let that settle into the creases of his brain and wasn’t surprised at the swelling violence
fogging his mind. “I would’ve done more than take one man hostage.”

  Tears shimmered, but she ducked her head. A few hard breaths later, she met his gaze. “I’ve cost you enough. Please tell me I didn’t cost you your family.”

  She didn’t cost him anything. What happened between him and Avery—that shit was long overdue. He placed a fresh starter log in the fireplace and didn’t rise until the flames caught. He knew she was behind him, felt the heat of her eyes more than the flames fanning his front.

  “T-thank you for taking me in. Caring for m-me. It’s time I left. Get out of your way.” She ran her fingers through her hair, I want—”

  He turned to her. She stopped speaking, seemed stuck between one thought and the next.

  “And go where? Another motel?”

  “I’ll figure it out. I’m good at that.” She moved to the stairs.

  “You’re not gonna ask for my help? You’re just gonna leave?” He wanted her to look him in the eye and tell him she was leaving, but she wouldn’t.

  “You’ve done more for me than I could ever ask. It’s enough. I don’t want to cost you anything else.” He had her in his arms and up against the nearest wall before she took the next step. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Her voice lacked any heat, any conviction to make EJ second guess his next move. So he went for it. He lifted her chin at the same time he dipped his head and captured her lips. Her mouth opened on a gasp, and his tongue slipped inside.

  Holy…Damn…Hell. He groaned and lost himself in the slip and slide of her velvet tongue. She tasted like coffee and another drug he couldn’t name—Sin? That’s the word his brain stumbled upon. Ridley Cross was sin wrapped in a cream and amethyst package.

  And he wanted more. He molded her against his body and deepened the kiss.

  One second he had what he wanted in his arms, the next she was across the room, near the back door, inches away from escaping into the woods. Her chest rose and fell hard as if she’d run twenty-six miles instead of a few feet.

  “Don’t ever do that again.” She panted and folded her arms under her small breasts, which drew attention to her firm nipples.

  That wasn’t what she said the last time. EJ stalked across the room. He moved slowly, giving her ample time to leave or stay. He stopped and took his time placing a hand on her hip and the other on her cheek. “Say it again. This time put your heart into it. Make me believe you don’t want my mouth on your skin.”

  Ridley sucked in a sharp breath. “I can’t sleep with you,” she whispered all breathy and needy.

  What he wanted to do to her didn’t involve sleep.

  Her damn curse. He got it, understood the limitations, and wouldn’t cross the line. That didn’t mean they couldn’t flirt with that line, blur it a little. Only if she’d let him. It required a leap of faith and a truckload of trust. The question: Did she have it to give?

  “All I want to do is kiss you. Touch you. See you.”

  Her cheeks pinkened to a lovely shade. “Why should I show you anything?” She side-eyed him, yet couldn’t hide her interest.

  Oh, he liked a challenge. “Never mind.” He moved away from her, gave her his back.

  “Never mind? Like that”—she snapped her fingers—“you’re not interested.”

  Slowly, he turned and lingered on everything he desired. “Oh, I’m interested. I just don’t want you to say later I coerced you.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.” She planted her hand on her hip.

  Yes, she would, but he didn’t hold it against her. “How about a game of cards?”

  “Cards?” she snorted.

  He retrieved a deck off the mantle.

  “I don’t have time for cards. I have to go now. It’s getting late, be dark soon,” she mumbled, but didn’t make a move toward the stairs to retrieve her stuff.

  “One hand of Black Jack. I win; you stay. You win; you do what you want.”

  “Why should I do that?” She ran a hand through her platinum hair making the ends stand up farther.

  “Now you’re just being contrary for the sake of being contrary. Food, warmth, companionship. Those are the reasons. And if that’s not enough, I know where Josie and Marilyn are.” He didn’t wait for her answer to shuffle as he planted his ass on the floor beside the coffee table.

  She stood another moment, her foot tapping. Her gaze darted from the door to the deck.

  Come on, Candy Cane. Make the right choice.

  “Fine.” She huffed and plopped down opposite him.

  “You do know how to play, right?”

  She rolled her eyes and said, “Deal.”

  The first card went to her. An ace of hearts.

  His card. Ten of spades.

  Ridley rapped her knuckles on the table. She wanted another card. Eight of clubs. “Beat my nineteen and you win.”

  He needed an ace or a ten to beat her; nothing else would win. Good thing this was his favorite deck. He pulled a card and placed it face down on top of his ten of spades. “Sure you want to do this? I’d rather you stay because you wanted to not because I won and forced you to.”

  Her lips thinned while her eyes narrowed. EJ waited while she contemplated her options. A shame she didn’t really have any.

  “Flip the card, EJ.”

  With a flick of his wrist, Ridley lost the game. “Ace of diamonds. Make yourself at home, Candy Cane. You’re not going anywhere.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The closed mahogany casket gleamed from a high polish. Emeline studied her wavering reflection, fascinated by the blurred details of her face and body. Soothing music whispered from overhead speakers. Soothing to the dead because dulcet, synthesized tones certainly didn’t soothe her, the only mourner. The low tones made her strain to catch the tune and annoyed her more than her itchy black dress. She hadn’t worn the sensible tea-length dress since the last funeral she’d attended five years ago. She was surprised it fit, but eating hadn’t been a priority the last few days.

  The funeral director peeked out from behind a side door, gave her a polite tilt of his head, and vanished. Hector had reserved the best room in the establishment. Two hundred cushioned seats, and here she sat, alone in the front row with a casket as company. A ninety-two-year-old man didn’t have many friends left alive and even fewer family members. She had the room for three hours. After a half an hour, she was ready to go.

  Voices echoed in the hallway, a mixture of male and female. Stella entered first, followed by Roman. Alexis was next with Reign close on her heels. Thane, Quin, and Hector completed the gathering.

  Emeline swallowed the emotion threatening to clog her throat and managed to say, “Thank you for coming.”

  “Of course we’d be here. You’re family.” Roman squeezed her shoulder while Stella hugged her.

  Tears stung Emeline’s eyes. She managed to blink them away. At the same time, she glanced between them, searching for one more person. An uncomfortable silence settled around them. He wasn’t coming and they didn’t know how to tell her.

  “Come in. Pick a seat. There are plenty.” She waved at the empty room.

  “I should’ve reserved a more intimate viewing room. I apologize, Miss Gamble.” Hector said.

  Emeline embraced the family butler. “If it weren’t for you…I couldn’t have done all this. I wasn’t in the right state of mind to handle the responsibility.”

  A smile created a wealth of wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and mouth. “I did the legwork at Avery’s request.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh. Thank him for me.”

  Hector bowed his head and found his seat next to Thane and Quin as a pastor entered from the side door.

  It was a quick service. The pastor spoke of death being a doorway for believers to pass on to heaven. Only one problem, Grand didn’t believe in the Christian hereafter. Wherever his spirit was, her grandfather wasn’t playing golf with Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost.

  After the pastor f
inished his brief sermon, Emeline thanked everyone for coming.

  “Join us for dinner. We won’t take no for an answer,” Roman said.

  No, she couldn’t. Not with her nerves so raw.

  Stella leaned close to her ear and whispered. “You shouldn’t be alone, Emeline. And Avery won’t be there. Cross my heart.”

  That was part of the problem.

  The thought of going home to that lonely, drafty, townhouse with the ghost of her grandfather almost made her mental. Plus, she was beyond starving. The choice should be easy. She wasn’t part of this family, yet that’s exactly how they treated her. “I-I really shouldn’t—” Her stomach let out a loud growl.

  “Well, that’s decided. You can ride with us.” Stella took her arm.

  The funeral director coughed discreetly, drawing everyone’s attention. He gave the appropriate condolences and platitudes then cut to the chase. “Miss Gamble, your grandfather’s ashes will be delivered to you within the week. If you have any questions, please give me a call.”

  Great. Something to look forward to. “Thanks.” Then she whispered to Stella, “Please get me the hell outta here.”

  ~~~~~~~~

  On a rooftop one block away, Avery watched Emeline and his family leave the funeral. Bundled in a coat, she walked between Quin and Thane to a waiting car. She stopped, said something to each of them, and scooted inside the limo. Quin and Thane moved to the next car, while Roman helped Stella slide into the passenger seat. He walked around the front of the car to the driver’s side. Roman gave a quick glance his way, winked, and entered the SUV. He knew Avery was there.

  He followed them to the restaurant. Picked for the dim lighting and recessed seating alcoves, Avery blended into the shadows. Only a few feet from Emeline, he might as well have been one thousand miles away. She smiled. No joy reached her eyes. She laughed, a hollow sound that made his Ink screech. She ate little, camouflaged not eating by moving the food around the plate. She was thinner, her cheeks hollow, her eyes dull.

  He raised his hand, tempted to reach out, and touch her. Reign glanced his way and turned when Alexis drew his attention. So much for being invisible.