by Nic Saint
He quickly walked back to the car and his heart bled as he darted a glance at Chloe, huddled in the back of his car. The animal who’d done this to her would pay, if it was the last thing he did.
Ten minutes later, he was carrying Chloe into Shelley’s clinic, and another ten nail-bitingly long minutes later, the doc came back with the news that Chloe would be fine.
Shelley, a big woman with a big heart, sat Jackson down in her small office, and explained, grim-faced, that while Chloe had confessed to having had consensual sex in her opinion the man who’d done this to her had still taken advantage of her. Though the line between consent and nonconsent was sometimes thin, she felt Ty had crossed that line.
“That man should be held accountable for his actions, Jackson,” she pressed upon him. “Especially since he’s apparently done this before.”
Jackson nodded, dark thoughts swirling round his brain. He could have stopped Ty but hadn’t. This whole mess was on him.
“There’s more,” softly spoke Shelley, her gentle eyes conveying this wasn’t the first time she’d been faced with this type of situation. “Your brother didn’t use protection, so there’s a slim chance Chloe might be pregnant. Too soon to tell, though.”
His jaw working, Jackson could have screamed in agony and rage, but he held it together, and thanked the doctor for her concern and her care.
She hesitated. “I would like to keep her here for a bit if that’s all right with you, Chief. She’s been through quite an ordeal and needs to rest now. Does she have family in the area? Friends?”
“Only me. I’m the only friend she’s got.” As he said it, he realized in what kind of a hopeless situation he’d put the young woman. Away from her family and friends, she was an easy prey to callous men like his brother. “But I’ll call her family. Perhaps they can arrange for her to be taken home.”
With a pang of sorrow, he understood this was the end of his affair. The finality of it only occurred to him now, but he instantly accepted it as inevitable. She couldn’t stay here. It was clear to him that she didn’t want him, now that she’d thrown herself into Ty’s arms so willingly. He’d call Roland and tell him to arrange Chloe’s return home, where she was safe and surrounded by her family.
Rising to his feet, he thanked Shelley, and stalked out, only one thought burning in his mind now: he had to get Ty and stop that maniac once and for all.
Chapter 27
As the car drew closer, Ty knew he was in trouble. The moment his business with Chloe was finished, he should have left town. Instead, he’d lingered, savoring the smell of her pussy on his fingers, and thinking about going back for seconds. Amazingly, his dick was hard again five minutes after he’d left her, so he’d swung back around. By the time he reached the barn, though, his brother’s police cruiser was already roaring down the road.
He pounded the steering wheel. Dammit! He made an abrupt U-turn and stepped on it, knowing it was only a matter of time before Jackson called in his flunkies to arrest his ass and put him in jail. With all that was going down, he couldn’t risk being imprisoned. Roland would make sure he didn’t walk out, and probably would even make him do actual time.
Better to head on back to the airport and get the hell out of here. Chloe Thornton might be a great fuck, and he was glad he’d finally had his way with her, but she wasn’t worth going to prison for. He could just imagine the trumped-up charge Jackson would fabricate. And by the time his lawyer got out here, it would be too late. The fucking Thorntons would be all over him.
So he sped on, his eyes focused on the road ahead, making time and absentmindedly rubbing his cock. The way Chloe’s asshole had clenched around his dick was amazing. So narrow, it was obvious the little bitch had never been fucked in the ass before. He was glad he’d been her first. She’d never forget the pleasure he’d given her and the pleasure he’d taken.
He grinned with relish, the remnants of Chloe’s pussy and ass juices still lingering on his cock and balls. He loved the feel of his hair matted to his balls, her dried-up juices a testament to his pleasure and hers.
Then he saw the car coming from the opposite direction, police light flashing. Dammit. He sped past, and watched in his rearview mirror as the car made a skillful turn—even the hicks in this backwater could apparently handle their vehicles—and came after him, firing on all cylinders in hot pursuit.
He stomped on the accelerator, and the car jerked in response, the engine revving and the vehicle picking up speed. Roaring down the road and spitting up gravel and dust, his rental wasn’t a match for the police car.
He gritted his teeth and pushed his tall body back against the car seat. He so wasn’t going to get caught. Not by his lame ass brother. He was going to reach the airport and get the hell out of this hellhole or his name wasn’t Ty de Montesquieu.
Giving it all he had, he pushed on, wishing he’d been smart and made for the airport when he had the chance.
In the distance he saw a concrete bridge loom up, and he knew it wasn’t much farther. Beyond the bridge only a couple of miles. He hoped the pilot was ready and packing, like he’d instructed. Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached into the glove compartment and took out the small Glock he liked to carry around. He’d fire a shot at the police car, perhaps shoot out a tire. That way the asshole would back off, giving him time to make a run for the plane.
He was almost at the bridge when suddenly another car came charging down the opposite lane and swerved onto his, forcing him to yank the wheel for a hard right. And then he was out of road and careening toward the concrete bridge. In a last-ditch attempt to ward off the inevitable, he wrenched the wheel further right, but then the car hit a bump on the shoulder and was sent hurtling through the air, aiming straight for the bridge.
With a sickening cry of terror, he held up his arms as the bridge suddenly seemed to slam up at him, and then there was nothing but the roar of breaking glass and scrunching metal and in a split second he knew this was the end.
Beverley watched in sickened horror as Ty’s car swerved off the road then seemed to become airborne before smashing into Osprey Bridge. There was a sudden deafening blast as the gas tank detonated on impact and sheets of flame shot out of the pulverizing vehicle.
He screeched his car to a halt and jumped clear as it rolled to a stop then ran up to the other car, but a second blast halted him in his tracks and as he shielded his face from the explosion he knew there was nothing he could do. The wrecked metal frame slammed to the ground in a fury of heat, splintered glass and crumpled metal and as he watched, it was clear no one could have survived that crash.
He hurried back to his car and picked up the radio. When the familiar voice of Chief Rappaport sounded, he uttered but a few brief words. “There’s been an accident, Chief. Your brother… He’s dead.”
Chapter 28
Chloe’s eyes snapped open and she sat up with a jerk, and for a moment she was uncertain about her surroundings. Then, as her gaze settled upon the sturdy oak furniture, the white-washed walls and the wooden beam ceiling, she remembered. Jackson had brought her back to his place while he waited for Roland to arrive and take her home.
She settled back against the pillow, and the gloom that had enveloped her since the events of the previous day returned in full force, wrapping her in its adhesive tentacles and dragging her down into the pit of despond she’d been wallowing in.
In spite of the shame and embarrassment she felt, she’d still insisted in giving Jackson a full account of what had transpired between her and Ty. The hurt in his eyes had affected her badly, and when later he’d returned with the news that Ty had been killed in a car crash, it had set the seal on her desperation, for she found herself welcoming the news—feeling it was exactly what the brute deserved.
Silently scolding herself for being so callous, she had slipped deeper into a depression that had set on in Doctor Shelley’s office.
Jackson, wrongly interpreting her silence as a sign of mournin
g over the death of her lover, had hung his head and left the room, inducing her to briefly wonder if it wouldn’t have been better for everyone involved if she’d died in that crash instead of Ty.
Why had she ever allowed it to come to this? Why had she stepped into Ty’s car? Why had she allowed him to take her—to have his way with her? Temporary insanity, she reflected. Something was definitely wrong with her, something perhaps only a shrink could figure out.
Then Jackson had returned, bringing her a hot meal and announcing the arrival of Roland in the morning. Then he’d left again, and she could see in his eyes the pain she’d caused. The hurt. He was a good man, and she had betrayed him—deeply wounded him.
Not only that, but she had probably caused the death of his brother.
She stepped from the bed and ambled over to the dresser that held her personal belongings. She picked up her phone and saw she’d missed a call from Anna. Frowning, she read the message. ‘Need to talk to you. Xoxo Anna.’
She pressed redial and moments later the call connected and she was looking into the cheerful face of her sister-in-law.
“Hey, honey. How are you holding up?”
Chloe took a seat and propped up the phone against her purse. “To be honest, I feel like shit.”
“Like you were manhandled by a guy built like a brick shithouse?”
Chloe emitted a hollow groan. “I forgot. You went through the same ordeal.”
“Worse,” grimaced Anna. “In my case there was more than one shithouse. And the worst part? I kinda liked it. But then I’m weird that way. As you know.”
“And did you also have an honest-to-God good guy pledging his heart to you while you were being boned by the shits?”
“I did,” said Anna softly.
Of course. Scott had patiently stood by while Anna was going through all this. Chloe shook her head. “I don’t know what came over me, Anna. I really don’t. This is so not me. I’m the level-headed one, you know? The nice girl who wasn’t kissed until she was eighteen and never allowed a guy to go past first base until she was twenty-one. And even then I took care to carry a packet of condoms in my purse, just in case he forgot. And now this? I don’t get it. I really don’t.”
“I’m not a shrink, Chloe, but it seems to me you’re being overly harsh on yourself. The guy took advantage of you. Ty is not an easy man to resist.”
“Was,” Chloe corrected.
“Right. Was. Well, he was as devilishly handsome as they come, and hot, too, and he had a way with women that made them melt like scorched rubber before his sultry gaze. The man had a knack for getting into a girl’s panties, honey. Honed by years of experience. And he’d been after you for years.”
“He was. But I always turned him down before, so why not now? Some kind of complicated self-destructive thing?”
“Trust me. I know all about that and you’re the furthest thing from self-destructive. Let’s just chalk it up to a good girl gone bad. You just wanted to get laid by a guy who could knock your socks off. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Only I shouldn’t have done it while living under Jackson’s roof.”
“Look, if this guy really loves you, he’ll forgive you. If not?” She shrugged. “Perhaps he’s not the one for you.”
Chloe stared at her sister-in-law. “How did you know Scott was the one for you?”
Anna smiled. “I didn’t. Not at first. It took some soul-searching and a very harrowing experience to finally get it into my head that he was the guy for me.” She giggled. “Did you know I thought he was gay and tried to ‘cure’ him?”
Chloe laughed. “No, I didn’t.”
“We had the most horrible first date you can imagine. The sex just didn’t work, so I figured him a lost cause and moved on. Good thing that he was so persistent, or else I wouldn’t have been here.” She suddenly grew serious. “Look, honey. Ty was a killer. A very brutal, very depraved man. From what you told me, I think you were very lucky to walk away from this experience with your life.”
“Perhaps he did care for me,” Chloe murmured.
“In his own twisted way? Perhaps he did.”
Chloe heaved a deep sigh, feeling better now that she’d talked things through with one who understood. One who’d been there. “Thanks, Anna.”
“Don’t mention it. What are sisters for, huh? When will you be back?”
“Roland should be arriving any minute now, so I’ll be home before dinner if all goes well.”
“Great. We’ll talk then. And, Chloe?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much, okay? You’re not the one to blame. Ty is.”
Chloe smiled and nodded. “Thanks.”
The moment she disconnected the call, she heard a car pull up outside and she moved over to the window. Her spirits lifting, she watched Roland step from the car and stare up at her window, as if he knew she would be watching. She raised her hand for a wave and he waved back, a reassuring grin on his face.
Now that Roland was here, everything would be fine, Chloe knew, and started getting dressed.
Chapter 29
Jackson watched her trudge down the stairs, lugging her suitcase, and felt his throat constrict. She was walking out of his life—returning to the bosom of her family—and he would probably never lay eyes on her again.
He suddenly realized he’d been a fool. As had happened before, he’d stood idly by while his big brother stole the best thing that had ever happened to him right from under his nose. He’d simply swept in and taken Chloe from him. And the worst thing? He’d allowed it to happen. Instead of taking a firm line and put a stop to all this nonsense, he’d allowed it to carry on until it was too late.
And now she was leaving him forever. Served him right. He’d probably been too nice to her, too caring, too loving. A girl like Chloe needed a stronger man than himself. She apparently needed a brutal man who’d lay down the law for her—take her without regard for her own wishes or feelings.
So he bowed his head as she reached the bottom step, and ignored the long look she leveled at him. Roland took the suitcase from her hand and carried it outside to his waiting car.
“Jackson,” her soft voice sounded, and finally he looked up.
Morosely, he watched as she stood on tiptoes and pecked a brief kiss on his cheek. Then she stood back and studied him with sad eyes, misty with unshed tears. “I’m sorry about everything, Jackson. I know I’ve treated you poorly, and I’m truly sorry.” She looked away when his stare was unrelenting. She briefly swiped at her eyes, then nodded and turned away.
Before she’d reached the door, she suddenly whirled around and came running up to him, flung her arms around his neck and gave him a hug that startled him. He slowly encircled his arms around her and reveled in the sensation of holding her once again—one last time.
Then he placed a kiss on the top of her head and when she turned away this time, she didn’t look back, but raced from the room, bursting into desperate sobs as her resolve broke.
He stood staring after her, a living statue in the center of the room—the center of his house—and when the car engine started up, then tore away from the curb and rumbled down the street, he still stood immobile. Only when the last sound had died away in the distance, did he finally heave a deep sigh.
He’d loved and lost, and now the only thing that was left for him was to pick up the pieces of his life and move on.
The car raced down the streets of Jackson’s neighborhood, Chloe staring out the side window with unseeing eyes, tears streaming down her face. In those last moments, she’d suddenly realized how much she truly cared for Jackson. The man might not be Ty but who needed Ty? Who needed a murderous self-absorbed he-man when there was Jackson to be had? A decent, honorable and thoroughly sweet man, he was the sort of husband a woman could build a family with, could start a future with.
The Tys of this world were all fun and dandy for all of five minutes, but when it came down to building a life
together, they were absolutely worthless. Ty was a destroyer of things. He tore down the lives he touched. Jackson, on the other hand, was a builder—a man who created homes for families to live in. Who’d have willingly built a home for the two of them to live in.
She shook her head as it came home to her with a sickening finality that she’d blown her one chance at happiness through a moment of weakness. She’d thrown away a life of love and happiness for a hot fuck. For a moment of lust.
How could she have been so stupid?
And as she watched the scenery change into the endless fields she’d witnessed from the sky when Jackson had taken her on that plane ride, the tears really started to flow.
She felt Roland’s hand on her arm and placed her own hand on top of his without turning to look. At least she still had her family. They would always be there for her, she knew, no matter how many stupid stunts she pulled.
Roland cleared his throat. “Look, Chloe, I know this is none of my business, but… have you tried talking to Jackson? I mean, the guy obviously cares for you.”
She shook her head miserably. “He wouldn’t. When I explained what happened he just stared at me, dumbfounded. And then he left. And I don’t blame him either. The way I treated him I should be glad he didn’t give me a good thrashing or a yelling.”
“He knows better than that,” shot back Roland dryly. “I’d tan his hide.”
Chloe smiled. Roland always had her back, no matter what. “I blew it, Ro. This time I really blew it. I finally found myself a decent guy and I traded him for five minutes of hot sex with his gangster brother.”
“Hot sex is overrated,” opined Roland, though his lip twitched into a smile.