Sex, Lies, and Joysticks

by Lynn Chantale

  The one thing she could say she learned from video games was a way to disappear for a bit. She would take her car to the bus station and then take a cab from there, but first she’d need cash.

  * * * *

  “You look like hell,” Jacqui said the next morning when Lincoln came down to breakfast.

  He slid into the seat opposite her at the table and poured coffee into a waiting mug. “Thanks for noticing.”

  She giggled. “And in a foul mood. Didn’t you sleep?”

  He glared at her. She was enjoying this way too much. “And I suppose you had a great night’s sleep?”

  “Of course.” She leaned forward, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “After I pleasured myself with a couple of vibrators and came no less than four times.”

  He swallowed as his body responded to her words. “Four?”

  She nodded and smirked.

  “That’s so not fair.”

  Jacqui used her fork to spear a piece of sausage. “Did you fix things with your wife?”

  “She’s not talking to me.”

  “Well, that’s not good.”

  He sighed. “I’ve half a mind to fly home just to sort things out.”

  Jacqui shrugged, but concern shadowed her eyes. “If that’s what you need to do, then I can handle your classes until you get back.”

  “Maybe I should just focus on this until it’s time to leave. Matteo is there, which means she’s relatively safe.”

  “I thought you feared for her safety while he was around.” She popped a morsel of pancake into her mouth.

  A blush heated his cheeks. “My own stupidity. He’d never harm her.”

  She set down her fork and leaned forward, a hand to her ear. “What was that? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  “C’mon, Jacqui.”

  She picked up her fork and resumed eating. “I like hearing you admit you’re an ass. Because when you do it, it’s a doozy.”

  He lowered his head. “I don’t think she’s going to forgive me after this.”

  “Honestly, Linc, I don’t have much sympathy for you. Randa has been very good to you, and you’ve hurt her quite a bit.”

  “I don’t need you to remind me.”

  “Well, somebody needs to!” Her eyes shot fire. “You cannot make people do what you want them to do in this world, especially the ones who love you.” She stabbed at a chunk of pineapple. “And your wife loves you. My ex pulled some of the stuff you did, and that’s why he’s my ex.”

  He sat back and blew out a breath. Jacqui was correct. Absolutely correct. He’d always taken Randa’s love for granted. After all, she forgave him for his transgressions; what was one more? And he did love her. Lincoln would do anything for her…except allow her to truly be happy.

  Jacqui covered his hand with hers. “Yeah. I think you’ve finally figured it out,” she said softly. “Randa has been really good to you.”

  Lincoln couldn’t lift his head to meet her gaze. He didn’t want to see the condemnation in her eyes, even though her touch only spoke of concern.

  “Let her calm down, and the two of you can work this out.”

  At the compassion in her tone, he read the same in her eyes. “I can’t lose her now. She keeps me balanced.”

  Jacqui said nothing.

  “But you’re right. I’ll let her calm down and then talk this out with her.”

  “In the meantime, you’ve got to confront whatever insecurity it was that drove you to force him out of her life. That’s the only way you’re going to deal with this.”

  He nodded and prayed it wasn’t too late.

  * * * *

  Matteo gingerly stretched in the bed. Eyes still closed, he inhaled the faint spiced chocolate scent and hugged the sheets a little closer. For the first time in months, he was relaxed and reluctant to fully wake. The nuances of the house penetrated his consciousness. Something about the silence wasn’t right. The house was just too quiet.

  He jerked upright, throwing off the blankets. “Randa?” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet on the floor. Pain and stiffness coursed through his body. He ignored it and stood. “Randa?”

  No answer.

  The doorbell chimed. He donned the discarded pajama bottoms, then pulled a T-shirt over his head, hurrying down the steps as fast as his injuries would allow. Passing through the rooms, he still didn’t see Randa.

  The bell pealed again. He looked through the glass to the right of the front door and frowned. After he disarmed the alarm, he threw back the dead bolts and twisted the knob. Arctic air greeted him in an icy embrace. Matteo shivered in the cold.

  “Yes?”

  An elderly woman bundled in a wool coat and hat stared at him. The little girl beside her stepped behind her and peeked around the long coat.

  “Sorry to bother you, sir. I must’ve read the address wrong.”

  The distress in the woman’s face touched his heart, and as he studied the child, recognition bloomed. She was about the right age.

  “Ma’am? Who were you looking for?”

  “Lincoln Arnold or his wife.”

  Matteo held the door wider, now noticing the suitcase she clutched in her other hand. “Please come in. Let me get that for you.” He removed the case from her swollen, gnarled fingers and ushered them both inside.

  The little girl looked around, her eyes lighting as she stared toward the living room. Matteo followed her gaze and smiled. The Christmas tree. What kid wouldn’t be intrigued by the bright blinking lights and shiny wrapped gifts scattered below the branches?

  She glanced at him, and he gave a small nod. With a wide, toothy grin, she skipped toward the tree, shedding her coat as she went. By the time she reached the tree, she’d left a trail of outerwear. Coat, scarf, gloves, and boots laid to rest in her wake. She fingered one of the handmade ornaments he and Randa had made. Then she moved slowly around the tree.

  For a moment, she gave Matteo the impression she’d never seen one.

  “I’m very sorry I disturbed your sleep,” the woman was saying, and he returned his attention to her. “My name’s Thelma. The little one there is Melodee, Lincoln’s daughter.”

  Matteo looked at the child. He was still not sure if Randa was in the house, but this was definitely going to cause major conflict. “Pleasure to meet you, Thelma. Lincoln is out of town right now, and Randa is still sleeping.” At least he hoped she was.

  “I know. I was supposed to wait until he returned, but I can’t.”

  “Would you like to sit? I can get you some tea or coffee.”

  “No. Her mother didn’t come home last night, and I fear the worst. I hate to do this, but Melodee needs to be with her father and new mother.”

  Matteo had no words.

  “De.” The child returned to Thelma’s side, and Thelma stroked Melodee’s cheek. “Now you behave and listen to…” She glanced at him.

  “Matteo,” he supplied.

  “Yes. Your dad mentioned him. This is your Uncle Matteo.” Straightening, she reached in her pocket and handed him a wad of cash. “This is everything I didn’t spend on the baby. Please see that he gets it.”

  “Of course.”

  “Nana?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t be sad. Everything will be all right.”

  Thelma nodded and left the house.

  Matteo stared at the little girl a moment. “Are you hungry? I can make pancakes.”

  * * * *

  Once Matteo had Melodee settled with pancakes and cartoons, he went in search of Randa. He hurried up the steps.

  Her bedroom door was open. That couldn’t be good. Had she heard the exchange downstairs? He stepped across the threshold. A glance showed nothing out of place except… He brought his gaze to the dresser. Her cell phone sat on top along with something else.

  Moving closer, Matteo’s heart sank. Her rings. She wouldn’t have taken them off unless she meant to send a very clear message. Now that he was more
alert, subtle differences stood out, like the bra strap hanging from the top drawer, the closet door slightly ajar, and a wire hanger peeking from beneath the door.

  Heart pounding, he crossed to the closet and yanked on the knob. A bag was missing and several articles of clothing. A sigh brushed his lips. At least she hadn’t been abducted.

  That presented another problem. Where had she gone? Without her current friend list, he didn’t know where to start. He glanced at her phone. Well, maybe he did. He’d start with her phone. Then he’d check her game system.

  He picked up the device and swiped his thumb across the screen and shook his head at all the missed calls from Lincoln. She was avoiding him? This was not good. Matteo had one thing he could do. He pressed one of the missed calls and raised the device to his ear.

  Chapter Twelve

  Randa wandered the corridors of a mall some miles away and perused the windows of shops. Bright-colored clothes and shoes, along with signs heralding last-minute Christmas deals beckoned. None of them drew her fancy.

  The hardest thing she had to do was walk away from her home. Matteo had just returned. How was she going to get either man to understand that she was serious and they needed to include her in their decision-making processes?

  Noisy voices crescendoed. She looked up and to the left. A small crowd had gathered at a video game store. Curious, she swerved to see what all the excitement was about.

  Some women were drawn to shoes. Randa was drawn to fighting games. The crowd gathered around the lumpy, pasty-skinned man was just her style. She pushed through the crowd until she found a clear spot to watch him.

  As she watched him play, the light from the fluorescent bulbs above bounced off his spiked hair with his movements. She glanced around and spied a bubble jacket on the floor in front of the man along with a half-empty gallon bottle of purple electrolyte drink.

  A cheer rose, and she returned her attention to the man playing. Something about him seemed familiar. She moved a little closer until his profile came into view. A flash of red drew her attention to his neck, as did the multicolored Mohawk. Yes, she did know him. This was her nemesis and fellow teammate Trentiss, better known FazFazol.

  Her heart pounded a little faster, and she leaned closer. What was he doing in a mall so close to her home? Had he recognized her without the disguise? As if sensing her gaze, he turned and stared. The tiny chain that led from his nose piercing to the plug in his ear wiggled as a slow smile tipped his lips, and he lifted a hand in a mock salute.

  She moved back into the crowd, allowing others to push forward as she backpedaled. This had to be a coincidence. That was what she wanted to believe, had to believe, but some small niggle of fear kept her from believing his presence was just chance. Her best course of action was to leave the mall.

  Trentiss was responsible for bringing her into the gaming world. With the initial meet online and then a few local tournaments, the rest was history. He, Gremlin, and another girl completed one team, but Randa had surpassed Trentiss’s skill level, and he made a lot of noise about it. Was it possible he had been the one to send the bugs in the flowers?

  She had to think about this, sort it all through before she made her next move. There was one place she could go. Hopefully, Destin would be home.

  * * * *

  Lincoln restocked the booklets from the recent panel discussion and waited for the room to clear of stragglers. The only thing keeping his mind off home and his current martial problems was work, but now that he had a break, it all came rushing back.

  Randa still hadn’t contacted him. At least he didn’t think she had. Phone reception in this part of the hotel was horrible, even with his Wi-Fi connection.

  A thud preceded several loose papers fluttering to the floor. He looked up to find Jacqui smiling at him. He returned her easy grin as he retrieved the fallen sheets from the carpeting.

  She’d changed since breakfast. The festive red sweater complemented her darker-hued skin and added a glow to her face. Her moss-green eyes twinkled with merriment. A wave of affection mingled with lust flowed through his veins. Damn, she knew how to fill out a pair of jeans.

  “You’ve been in a really good mood all morning,” he said.

  “I think it has a lot to do with the four orgasms I had last night.” She smirked.

  He shook his head and stacked the papers back on the table. “You’re gonna keep rubbing that in, huh?”

  She nodded.

  “Thought so.”

  “Have you heard from Randa?”

  “Haven’t checked my phone yet.” He pulled the device from his pocket, not surprised at the lack of bars, but concerned at the number of text messages scrolling across his screen.

  “Is something wrong?” Jacqui placed a hand on his arm and moved closer.

  His heart beat faster as he swiped the screen with his thumb to unlock the phone and realized he had seventeen messages. From his wife’s phone but not from his wife. “I gotta get to where I have a signal.” He hurried from the room, pushing through the crowd of people gathered in the hall.

  A few tried to stop him to chat, and he brushed them off. The terrible sense that something was wrong at home would not leave him. Up the escalator and into the main lobby of the hotel, he found a quiet spot near a window. His phone dinged and chimed, indicating he had multiple voice mails as well.

  He didn’t bother listening to any of them. He just pushed the icon with his wife’s picture.

  One ring.

  Two.

  The phone was answered and not by the sultry tones of his wife.

  “I’ve been calling you for an hour and a half,” Matteo said.

  “I didn’t have reception. What’s wrong?”

  “Your daughter is here.”

  “What? How? Does Randa know?”

  “No. Thelma dropped her off this morning. She mentioned something about Melodee’s mother not coming home last night.”

  “But Randa?”

  “She’s gone,” came the brusque reply.

  “What?”

  “Missing.”

  The air left Lincoln’s lungs in a swoosh. One minute, he was standing, and the next he was sitting on the floor. Jacqui sat next to him, her face void of any emotion, but her eyes were wide.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “I— Yeah. Where is she?”

  “She didn’t leave a note, just her wedding rings and her phone.”

  Why couldn’t he breathe? He clutched his chest. “Are you sure someone didn’t harm her?”

  “Dammit, Lincoln. The alarm was still set when I answered the door to let Thelma in. Anyway, some of Randa’s clothes and luggage are gone. Her car was found at the bus station. She left her rings. That’s all I have.”

  There was fear as well as anguish in the other man’s voice.

  “I-I’m on the next flight out.”

  He lowered the phone. She’d left him. Randa left him.

  “What’s happened?” Jacqui placed a gentle hand on his arm.

  He struggled to his feet. “I have to get home.”

  Jacqui hurried after him. “What can I do to help?”

  He didn’t answer. What could he say? Enlisting Jacqui wouldn’t bring Randa back. He didn’t even know where his wife would go or where she would be.

  Somehow he made it to the elevator and to his room. It wasn’t until the door closed that he realized Jacqui was still with him. He needed to be alone, not look into the concern-filled face of his second. It was wasted on him. He didn’t deserve her sympathy.

  “If you could find me a flight out, that would be great.”

  She nodded and slipped from the room. Once he was alone, he gave in to the storm beating at his heart. He lowered his head and wept.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I have a lead on the husband.”

  Reznick sneered as he accepted the sheet of paper handed to him. “Excellent.”

  “Your jet is waiting, and a car is outside to
take you to him.”

  By this time tonight, he would have the woman and Matteo exactly where he wanted.

  * * * *

  Waiting was not what Matteo did best. He went through every bit of information he could find on Randa. If he was going to be truly effective, he needed to know who the last person she contacted was. There was one way he could find out. He picked up his phone and dialed a number.

  “Do you know where she is?” he said once the line was answered.

  “I haven’t seen her. You two have a fight already?”

  Matteo chuckled. “No. She’s just gone, and I need to know where she is.”

  “I slipped a tracker in her purse the other night when we were at dinner. Let me get the equipment.”

  Through the line, a chime sounded.

  “Hold on, someone’s at the door.”

  He huffed. Why did people have to do business during the day? Nighttime was where it was at. Footsteps drifted through the line, followed by a faint click and the deep timbre of Destin’s voice. A hint of surprise filled his tone, and Matteo pressed the phone a little tighter to his ear.

  A softer, more feminine voice answered. He stiffened. No. This couldn’t be possible. What was she doing at Destin’s place? The next moment a scream pierced his ear. Shouting. Grunts.

  Oh God. Reznick found her. Matteo was already moving toward the back door, until a small voice stopped him.

  “Uncle Matt?”

  He skidded to a halt. That’s right. There was a child around. He backtracked and grabbed her coat and boots. Somehow he balanced the cellular between his shoulder and ear. Muffled cursing flowed through the line, followed by a few threats from a ladylike voice. Matteo had no idea Randa knew such language.

  “C’mon, sweetheart. We’ve got to go.” He picked Melodee up and sat her on the kitchen counter.

  She stared at him with big, trusting brown eyes, and Matteo was lost. She placed a hand on his cheek. “You frown a lot.”