“Hey,” she said, seeing his expression. “It’s okay. Malcolm, whatever it is you’ve been going through lately, it’s okay. I’m here with you. We’ll face it together.”
Malcolm knew that her words weren’t really meant for him, but they were exactly what he needed to hear, regardless. The past few days had been harder for him than he’d realized, full of pain, disappointment, and failure.
He leaned back on the bed, watching as Tapestry wiggled out of her jeans and tossed them aside. He pulled his own jeans off. He needed her intimacy. As she moved back on top of him to continue, Malcolm took her by the waist. Tapestry was a petite woman, and she let out a delighted squeal as he easily flipped her underneath him.
He kissed her as he never had before. His lips were brimming with weeks’ worth of unrealized passion. All of the fleeting thoughts he’d had about her, a mix of longing for a lost lover and friend, was unleashed upon her.
Malcolm roughly pulled her bra down and gave her breasts the attention they deserved. Tapestry ran her hands through his hair, her body tensing slightly as he prodded into her with his hardness, their underwear a flimsy barrier.
Not for long. Malcolm pulled his boxers down, only taking the time to pull her panties aside before sliding his shaft halfway into her. She was tight and hot, and there was enough sensation just from that half thrust to make his body pulse with pleasure. He could feel the softness of her silk panties against the side of his sensitive erection, and it reminded him of what the encounter was: an illicit coupling. Stolen love. A passionate encounter that could not happen again.
Tapestry hooked her arms around him and gently urged him forward. Malcolm pushed deeper into her, kissing her as his face came up to be level with hers. He kept close to her, letting his hips pull back and forth and matching the rhythm of his lips to hers.
Malcolm sped up slowly, until he was thrusting as fast as his body would let him. The gentle intimacy they’d started with had progressed to hot, hard sex. Tapestry moaned as Malcolm seized one of her buttocks and pushed himself into her with unbridled, masculine force.
It didn’t take either of them very long to climax. Tapestry had been trying to stifle her noises, but as she reached her peak, a cry of passion broke from her lips. Malcolm held her firm with his strong hands, pushing into her, savoring every thrust. He buried his face in her shoulder as he vaulted over his limit into hot, sticky ecstasy.
“I love you, Malcolm.”
Her words were whispered, quiet enough that it almost seemed like she didn’t want him to hear them. Malcolm’s heart skipped a beat. He was deep enough into the moment that he first felt elated, before realizing again, that the words were not meant for him.
What have I done? What the fuck have I done?
CHAPTER 21
Malcolm awoke the next morning with Tapestry curled up against him. He’d planned on leaving during the night, as the guilt and shame over what he’d done were almost too much for him to bear. He’d considered it, and had decided in the end that it would only make things worse if Tapestry woke up, and he or Second Wind wasn’t there in the apartment with her.
The fact that Second Wind didn’t come back during the night gave him pause. The last time Malcolm had seen him had been after they’d stopped the fertilizer truck heist. Was it possible that Multi intercepted him on his way back to Vanderbrook?
Of course it’s possible. Anything is possible. I can’t make assumptions yet.
“Hey.” Tapestry walked into the living room, wearing one of his t-shirts. It was baggy on her, and her hair was loose and ruffled around her shoulders.
“Hey,” said Malcolm. He felt suddenly awkward around her, too disturbed by what he’d done and his inability to own up to it. He wanted to apologize to her and admit the truth, but that felt like it would only serve to twist the blade he’d already thrust into Second Wind’s back.
“You should get ready,” said Tapestry. “We’ll have to stop by my house so I can change on the way there.”
Malcolm almost asked her what she was talking about, before realizing that it was probably something he should already know. Instead of pushing for more detail, he nodded and started toward his bedroom.
“It’s not going to be weird now, is it?” asked Tapestry. “I… didn’t expect you to say it back, you know. And I don’t need you to, if you aren’t ready.”
Malcolm felt his heart twist inside his chest. Those words had been meant for Second Wind, not him. And as far as he could tell, it was the first time she’d used them. It was an impossible situation, only made worse by his own confusing emotions for her. Did he love Tapestry? Did it matter, if he did or not? It wasn’t his place to say such things to her, not while wearing Second Wind’s mask.
“I’m sorry,” said Malcolm. “It’s not that I don’t… feel it. I just need a few days to get back to myself.”
That’s within striking distance of the truth, isn’t it?
He hurried into his room to get dressed before Tapestry could say anything else. They shared a quiet breakfast and then climbed into her BMW and drove across town to her house. The sun was out, and it was a bright, hot reminder of the changing season.
“I’ll only be a minute,” said Tapestry. “You should come inside. I’m sure Melanie wouldn’t mind seeing you.”
“Sure,” said Malcolm.
He followed behind Tapestry and into the house. Melanie was sitting on the couch in the living room, wearing a baggy t-shirt and panties, practically the same outfit Tapestry had been dressed in minutes before. She stood up, her face contorting with surprise.
“Aubrey!” she said. “I… You said you wouldn’t be back until later this afternoon. That’s what you told me. I wasn’t, uh… I mean, I just didn’t expect you back so soon!”
“And just why is this a problem for you?” asked Tapestry. Her gaze flicked from Melanie to the closed door to Melanie’s room.
“You should probably let me open that,” said Malcolm.
He walked through the living room, only half listening to Melanie’s frantic excuses. A short, dark skinned teenager wearing boxer shorts and nothing else jumped up from Melanie’s bed as soon as Malcolm opened the door.
“Hi,” said Malcolm. The boy younger than Melanie by at least a year or two, and even as he hurried to pull on his pants, Malcolm caught a vibe of both inexperience and pride coming from him.
Did little Melanie just take this boy’s virginity?
“Sorry,” mumbled the boy. “I should probably go.”
Malcolm chuckled.
“Melanie is wearing your shirt,” he said. “Here.”
He took off the sweatshirt and tossed it to him.
“Just give it back to Melanie when you can,” said Malcolm.
“Thanks,” said the boy.
He hurried out of the house, and Malcolm walked back into the living room and the argument exploding within it.
“Are you out of your mind, Melanie?” shouted Tapestry.
“Aubrey, relax.” Melanie sighed and crossed her arms. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”
“Premarital sex isn’t that big of a deal?” snapped Tapestry. “I mean, it would be one thing if you planned on getting serious with this boy, but he’s not even your age!”
“He’s about to turn seventeen,” muttered Melanie. “And he’s really cute! And he plays basketball, and he’s really funny. If you’d just take a second to get to know Colin, I think you’d really like him.”
“He’s not allowed in my house anymore,” said Tapestry, stiffly.
Melanie expression shifted into a glare.
“You are such a hypocrite!” shouted Melanie. “Do I even need to point out the obvious? You’re doing the same thing!”
Tapestry took the words as a slap in the face.
“I am not!” she protested.
“You’re not married, Tapestry,” said Melanie. “And Malcolm… he’s a few years younger than you, in case you forgot.”
Tape
stry’s face turned bright red. Malcolm was a little unsure of whether the argument would stay limited to just words or whether it would involve projectiles. He stepped forward, putting himself physically between them, and furrowed his brow.
“Tapestry, didn’t you say we had somewhere to be?” asked Malcolm. “Why don’t you get changed? So we can go and make that happen.”
Tapestry nodded slowly, not meeting his eyes. She was still blushing, and walked out of the room a little too quickly. Malcolm turned to face Melanie with his hands on his hips and slowly shook his head.
“You really shouldn’t have said that to her,” said Malcolm.
“She started it,” said Melanie. “Don’t tell me you’re going to try to shame me for being a teenager, too. Now that would be hypocritical!”
“Is that your word of the day or something?” Malcolm smiled. “Look, next time, just be smarter. Don’t let boys stay the night if you can’t afford getting caught.”
Melanie bowed her head slightly.
“I’ll apologize to her later,” she said. “I can’t face her right now.”
Melanie retired to her room, and a couple of minutes later, Tapestry reappeared in the living room, freshly clothed in a red tunic style sweater and black leggings. Malcolm didn’t say anything as they left her house and climbed into her car.
“She really shouldn’t be doing things like that,” said Tapestry. “I know you think I’m… old fashioned. But it’s true.”
Malcolm shrugged.
“She’s just a teenager, Tapestry,” he said, feeling a bit weird, given that technically, he was still one himself.
“And the fact that the boy was more than a year younger than her?” asked Tapestry. “She should at least be with someone closer to her own age.”
Tapestry glanced over at him, clearly expecting an answer. Malcolm tried not to scowl, wishing she’d just let it drop.
“I don’t think age gaps are a very big deal,” said Malcolm. “If they love each other, it shouldn’t matter.”
Several seconds passed in silence. Malcolm felt his confidence in his words fading as he considered what he’d said.
“Does it matter to you?” asked Tapestry. “That… I’m old? Is that why it was hard for you to… say it back?”
“Of course it doesn’t matter to me!” said Malcolm. “It’s not about that. I… can’t explain it. I just haven’t felt like myself recently.”
I feel like I’m playing a video game from someone else’s save file.
Tapestry focused on driving, and was quiet for long enough that Malcolm thought the conversation was over. Finally, she cleared her throat.
“I’m here,” she said. “If there’s anything on your mind that you need to air out. I’m here for you, Malcolm.”
She reached her hand over and squeezed his knee. Malcolm suddenly ached to tell her the truth, to put all the deceit and trickery on the table and let her see him, and Second Wind, and what they’d done.
But he didn’t. He couldn’t. There was just no way.
CHAPTER 22
“Can you refresh my memory on… our target?” asked Malcolm. He spoke the words carefully, trying to sound like he mostly knew about what he was talking about.
“It’s the gifted woman I was telling you about the other day, the one that hasn’t aligned herself with the Champion Authority.” said Tapestry. “Reyna Torres. Codename Chaste Widow. Wax had been keeping track of her before he left town, and sent me the info to look into.”
Malcolm nodded slowly.
“Right,” he said. “And our plan is…?”
Tapestry looked at him as though he were stupid.
“We’ve been over this already, Wind Runner,” she said. “We don’t know exactly what Chaste Widow’s power is, but it lets her kill easily and without leaving a trace. Several recent murders have her handiwork all over them.”
“Question: Why the name?”
Tapestry gave him a sour smile as she parked the car on the street of a suburban neighborhood.
“Her husband was killed in front of her,” said Tapestry. “And since then, every man that’s gotten close to her has experienced an untimely death immediately after.”
Malcolm scratched his head.
“Maybe you should handle this one on your own?” he offered.
“I can’t afford to,” said Tapestry. “She has a dangerous, uncontrolled power, Malcolm. Even though she hasn’t turned into a monster yet, we need to take care of her before she does anymore killing.”
“Take care of her?” asked Malcolm. “What exactly do you mean by that, Tapestry?”
Tapestry sighed.
“I don’t like this any more than you do,” she said, slowly. “But we can’t let Vanderbrook fall deeper into chaos. If we can capture her, good. But it’s challenging to hold her for long enough for more champions to arrive and contain her properly, given the current worldwide situation. So…”
“So… what?”
She got out of the car without answering him. Malcolm followed after her, still unconvinced by her reasoning, but unwilling to let her go into a dangerous situation on her own.
Maybe she’s right. If this woman has done as much killing as she says, we can’t just let her keep at it.
Tapestry approached the target house, pulling her pistol out of its holster and moving cautiously, scanning her eyes over the windows and shrubs beside the porch. Malcolm realized that he hadn’t bothered to ask her for a description of the target. It was probably something she’d already told Second Wind.
Tapestry paused outside the door of the house. She reached out and tried the handle. It was unlocked, and the door swung open without resistance. Malcolm followed her inside.
The two of them entered a spacious living room in time to see a tan skinned woman walk out of a bathroom, wearing only a towel. It took Malcolm a second to place where he’d seen her before. She’d been the out of place woman in Terri’s Tavern, the one he’d flirted with a couple of nights in row.
“Freeze!” Tapestry pointed her pistol at the woman. “Get down! On the ground!”
Malcolm felt a headache coming on, and it seemed to have a variety of different causes. For one, the woman also seemed to recognize him, given how her eyes lingered on his. She could, if she wanted to, ruin everything just by mentioning their acquaintance. Tapestry would, if she thought about it for long enough, realize that the only way Malcolm could have been in two places at once was for there to have been two of him alive at once.
The woman looked like a deer caught in a car’s headlights. She swallowed and lifted her hands up. Malcolm crossed his arms, wondering if this was the reaction Tapestry had expected, coming into the situation. Could she justify attacking a woman who offered no resistance in return, regardless of how dangerous her power was?
“What…?” The woman was slowly shaking her head. “Why? Who are you people?”
“The jig is up,” said Tapestry. “We know what you’ve been doing, Reyna. If you surrender, this will all go more smoothly.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the woman. “I’m nobody. I haven’t done anything to anyone.”
“You sound like you already know why we’re here,” said Tapestry. “Is there something you want to come clean about?”
The woman’s eyes flicked over to Malcolm, and there was a curious gleam in them, as though she half expected him to come to her defense. He kept his mouth shut, still too uncertain to come to any definite conclusions.
“Please…” said the woman. “I’m not resisting. I will do whatever you want me to. Just let me change into some clothes first.”
Tapestry gave a slow nod, clearly still suspicious. Malcolm followed them to the edge of a bedroom, knowing better than to try to enter, even though it meant leaving Tapestry by herself.
He waited for about thirty seconds on the other side of the closed door before hearing sounds of a struggle. Malcolm ran into the room in time to see something totally
unexpected.
Reyna, Chaste Widow, was kissing Tapestry. It was a full on, passionate kiss, and Tapestry looked as though she was being physically held in place by it. Malcolm could only stare, feeling a strange eroticism emanating from the two women. Tapestry made a noise, and he snapped back to his senses.
“Hey!” he shouted. He ran over and pushed Chaste Widow back. Tapestry crumpled to the ground, her face pale. “Tapestry!”
She wasn’t breathing. Malcolm checked for a pulse and didn’t find one, at least at first. It kicked back in after a second or two, and Tapestry let out a gasp.
“Go… after her…” Tapestry said, weakly. “Don’t… let her kiss you.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Just go!”
Malcolm nodded and rushed back out into the living room. He’d expected Chaste Widow to have disappeared out the front door, but it looked as though she’d gone downstairs into the basement of the house, instead. He stepped through the open door, closing it behind him and locking it to make it harder to escape, if she tried to run again.
The basement was lit only by a single bulb hanging from a loose cord in the rafters. It was sparsely furnished, and all of the corners were shadowed, making it almost impossible for Malcolm to tell where Chaste Widow was.
“Hey,” he said. “If you meant to kill my partner, you bungled the job. She’s made of stronger stuff than that.”
There was no response from the darkness. Malcolm stayed close to the edge of the staircase, hoping that the basement didn’t have another exit. A secret tunnel seemed unlikely, and he hadn’t seen any other way in or out from the house exterior of the house.
“Do you want to start over?” asked Malcolm. “We’ve met before, you know. In Terri’s Tavern. I get the sense that you aren’t evil, or at least you had a good reason for doing what you did.”
Do I really think that, or am I just getting better at sweet talking my enemies?
“I remember,” said Chaste Widow. “I didn’t mean to do that to your partner. She surprised me, and I just… panicked.”
Chaste Widow (Vanderbrook Champions Book 4) Page 11