by HELEN HARDT
I bit my lower lip, silently gulping.
“I get it. It’s personal. But this is me, Marj. Your best friend. We don’t have secrets.”
“It’s a security blanket,” I said.
“Why would a sharp blade be security? Do you mean for self-defense?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Even I could hear the lie in those words.
“Try again,” she said.
“It’s over, okay? I just needed some relief from the pain, you know? The fact that I was conceived is why Talon was taken. Gave me a little bit of a complex, which I’m thinking might be normal under the circumstances.”
“That’s very normal,” Jade said. “What’s not normal is cutting yourself.”
I sighed. “It’s over, like I said.”
“All right. Just know you can talk to me if you need to. You know I’d never break a confidence.”
“I know.”
“I won’t ask about it again.”
“You don’t have to. The blade is evidence now. It’s gone.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t get another.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” I said.
True words. That blade was my friend, and my friend was now gone.
“Miss Jade?” Donny interrupted us.
“Yeah, sweetie?” Jade said.
“I need a glass of water.”
“Okay, coming.”
While Jade took care of Donny, I went to my room and packed a few things to take to the guesthouse. I wanted to be with Bryce when he got home. He might need me. And if he didn’t? I needed him.
I quickly said goodbye to Jade and Donny and headed over to the guesthouse.
I let myself in using the key I’d had for ages and put my stuff in Bryce’s bedroom.
Then I walked to the kitchen to make myself a snack. The table was spread with papers. I glanced over them. They were the files Bryce had found at the cabin.
Curiosity got the best of me. I sat down and began sifting through the papers.
Nothing stood out to me. A lot of invoices for farm equipment, not that Tom Simpson had ever owned a farm that I knew of. Then again, there was still a lot I didn’t know about Tom Simpson.
I grabbed an unopened manila folder and peeked inside.
And nearly slid out of my chair.
A document stared me in the face—a document that Bryce clearly hadn’t seen yet.
It was a bill of sale for unspecified merchandise.
Tom Simpson had paid one million dollars for unspecified merchandise nearly thirty years ago.
To a man named Bertram Valente.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Bryce
I stopped myself from jolting in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“Cade. He likes to call himself the Spider.”
“The Spider isn’t some hacker he knows?” Though I already knew the answer.
Dominic guffawed. “Is that what he told you?”
“Then why…”
I couldn’t say anything more without telling Dominic how Joe knew Cade in the first place, and I’d promised Joe. Still, I wanted, needed, to know more.
“Why what?” Dominic asked.
“Nothing. But you need to tell me everything about your brother and his so-called Spider alias.” I grabbed his collar. “Don’t leave out one fucking detail, or I’ll have your ass in prison so fast—”
“Easy, Simpson. Shit.”
I loosened my hold. “This isn’t a damned joke.”
“I never said it was.”
“Start talking. I want to know everything about your brother and the Spider.”
“They’re the same person.”
“We were told the Spider was a high-priced hacker who could find someone for us.”
“Cade’s a pretty good hacker, from what I know,” Dominic said.
“So he’s the Spider?”
“Yes and no.”
“You’d better get real clear real fast,” I said through clenched teeth.
“It’s a name he’s used ever since I can remember. I don’t know why.”
“You’re telling me there is no separate Spider who’s a hacker. I’ve been communicating with Cade.”
Gotcha.
As I’d suspected, Cade had been playing us.
But why? What the hell did Cade have against us?
A former FBI guy, an attorney in the city, a guy into BDSM, a hacker. What did it all mean?
And now he had disappeared.
What was he up to?
And what did he have against Joe and me? Against all the Steels?
Something to do with my father…
“Not that I know of,” Dominic said, “but there’s a lot about my brother I don’t know.”
“What do you know about him?”
“Not much. We don’t have a lot in common, other than a love of baseball. He’s messed up.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Look. I can’t tell you anything more. I only know he’s obsessed with your father and the Steels. How do you even know about the Spider? Where did you get that card?”
I couldn’t say anything more. I’d already violated Joe’s trust by telling Marjorie about Justin Valente when I’d promised not to. Granted, he’d also told his wife, but still. I wouldn’t violate his trust again.
“None of your business,” was my answer.
“If you want me to help you figure this out, it is my business.”
“No, it’s not. I do want your help, but there are some things I can’t discuss.”
“Have it your way,” he said. “You know how to reach me.”
I headed back into the bar.
“What was that all about?” Talon asked.
“I wanted to know how he’d come to be Marj’s trainer. Whether it was part of the whole thing.”
“And?” Talon said.
“It was. He’s been watching her for a while because Cade has. Probably watching all of us.”
“But only Marj and our mom were his targets for safety?” Talon said. “And Colin? How does that make any sense?”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “If your dad is—”
“He’s not,” Ryan said, cutting me off. “He’s dead. I watched my psycho mother put a bullet in his heart.”
“I watched it too, Ry,” Talon said, “but he’s come back to life before.”
“Not possible.” Ryan took a long drink from his glass of wine. “He’s dead. Just like I would be if Ruby hadn’t saved me.”
I nodded. No use arguing the point. Brad Steel was most likely dead. If he wasn’t, we’d find out eventually.
“What do you think?” Ryan asked me.
“About what?”
“Dominic.” Apparently he’d put the issue of his father possibly being alive to rest.
“I don’t get the sense that he’s lying,” I said.
“Me neither. I really should have brought Ruby along. She can sniff out a liar a mile away.”
“I don’t think he’s lying either,” Talon said, “but I also don’t think he’s volunteering any information.”
“I need to talk to Joe,” I said.
Both of the Steels nodded.
What they didn’t know was that I needed to speak to Joe alone. The whole family might know all about Justin Valente and Colin Morse and my father’s involvement with each, but they didn’t know their brother was acquainted with Cade Booker because of his membership in a leather club.
I wasn’t about to divulge that tidbit.
My phone buzzed with a number I didn’t recognize. Since we changed phones every twenty-four hours, I’d learned to pay attention to all callers.
“Yeah?” I said into the phone.
“Bryce,” Marjorie said. “You need to come home. Now.”
Chapter Thirty
Marjorie
Bryce stared at the document I’d handed to him as soon as he walked through the door.
“It’s a payoff,” I said. “
It has to be. This Bert Valente must have been Justin’s dad. Your dad paid him off to keep quiet about Justin’s murder.”
Bryce didn’t glance up from the document. “I’m not so sure,” he said.
“What do you think it is, then?”
“It says unspecified merchandise.”
“So? What merchandise could he be talking about? It’s just code. He paid Justin’s dad off not to turn him in for murder.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you have to think like my father.”
“Uh…okay.”
“He was a trafficker. To him, people were merchandise.”
My stomach dropped. “You think…”
“You said Colin thinks his father sold him to my father, right? Does he have any proof of that?”
“He must, or he wouldn’t have said it. I guess I forgot to ask him while we were being held captive.” I hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic, but I did.
“Honey, I’m not blaming you for anything. We need to talk to him. Find out why he thinks that. But right here I think is documentation not of a payoff but of a purchase.”
“You think Justin is alive.”
“I think he was alive then. I don’t know about now.”
“But you said—”
“The memories are fuzzy. I know that. But his lips and skin weren’t blue when we found him by the river. And then he and his family just disappeared.”
Nausea welled in my throat. Bryce’s dad had truly been evil. Not that I’d ever doubted it, but to buy a kid? And what the hell kind of parent would sell a kid?
Ted Morse.
This guy. Bert Valente.
I shook my head slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“Be glad you don’t,” Bryce said. “I am. Every day.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he grabbed me and crushed his lips to mine.
But almost as quickly, he pulled back and pushed me away. I lifted my eyebrows.
“Too much in my head,” he said.
“Let me help, then. Let me be your escape.” I cupped his cheeks and pulled his lips down to mine, opening for him, urging him.
His tongue invaded my mouth, filling me with a raw need. He was taking, escaping—I could feel it in the way he kissed me, as if I were a drug he needed for survival, a salve to take away a crushing pain, a knowledge he wished he could erase from his mind.
I kissed him back, showing him how much I needed him in return. We needed each other.
When would this vicious cycle end? When would we each be free from the ghosts of our past?
Even now, as I reveled in Bryce’s kiss, the scar on my upper thigh itched. Just the thought of the blade hidden in my purse would have calmed it.
But the blade was no longer in my possession. Would never again be in my possession.
Bryce didn’t need a blade to relieve his guilt. He was using my body instead, so I’d do the same.
More. I needed more. More kisses. More Bryce. More everything that only he could give me. If I didn’t have my blade, I still had the most important person in the world to me, the man who was kissing me right now as if his life depended on it.
He deepened the kiss, backing me against the refrigerator where the buzz of its motor vibrated against my back. His cock was hard, and he ground the bulge into my vulva. My pussy throbbed, aching for him to fill me as only he could. We kept kissing, though, grinding against each other, panting and groaning, until he broke the kiss and inhaled sharply.
Bed, I expected him to say. Bed. Now.
Instead, he crushed our mouths together once more. Each kiss was rawer than the last, more feral, more primal, until it was only instinct that guided us, as if we were two animals in a dark forest coming together from a sheer urge.
Still fully clothed, we continued to grind against each other, bringing our aching need to a pulsing point. My heart fired rapidly, my skin full of chilly tingles. My core on fire, and my pussy wet and swollen. Already the wetness was soaking me.
Bryce’s hands were everywhere. First on my cheeks, then my shoulders, then one gripping my ass and pulling me tighter against his erection. One cupped a breast, thumbed a nipple. Another pulled one of my thighs upward, giving him a better angle against my denim-clad pussy.
I undulated against him, my body erupting in flames. Could I come fully clothed, just from the friction—
“Oh!” I gasped, my body humming as a climax rolled through me.
My nipples poked hard through the fabric of my bra and shirt, and my pussy contracted around nothing, longing for a cock or a finger inside to help milk more from it. I ground against Bryce furiously, letting the orgasm collide into me.
I was constricted. Wholly constricted by my clothing, yet still I came. I came against this man I loved more than anything, needed more than anything. Wanted more than anything.
He broke our kiss once more and drew in a deep breath. “You’re so hot, baby. That’s it. Come for me. Only for me.”
His words made the climax draw out further, but still…I needed to undress. Be naked. Roll around with Bryce and feel his huge cock inside me.
“Please,” I rasped. “Bed. Naked. Please.”
He pulled me into his arms and carried me to his bedroom. We undressed each other quickly, clothes flying everywhere and landing in wrinkled puddles on the floor.
Naked at last, we fell onto the bed, and within another second—
“God!”
He was inside me, his huge dick penetrating the depths of my pussy, sliding in with ease as I was already dripping wet. My nipples longed for his attention, my skin ached for his touch, but for now, we fucked.
We fucked like the animals we were, as if we were under a full moon in the dark woods, answering nature’s call to copulate, to preserve our line.
It was a good fuck.
A damned good fuck.
The friend we both needed.
When Bryce released into me, I grabbed his ass, trying to push him farther and farther into me as he grunted and bit at my neck.
“Never enough,” he grunted. “Never enough with you.”
God, no. Never enough. I’d never have enough of Bryce Simpson. And as far as I was concerned, this night was just getting started.
Chapter Thirty-One
Bryce
I found solace within her body, peace within her heart and soul. No matter what outside forces—memories of my father’s heinous crimes, haunting recall of things long buried—tried to consume me, Marjorie could give me peace.
I could never let her go.
I had to learn to be the man she deserved, the man worthy of her uniqueness, her beauty, her passion.
Her love.
I wasn’t that man yet, but I would be, when I laid the ashes of my father’s crimes to rest once and for all.
I’d released inside her body. We’d had a good fuck, a fuck we both needed. An escape.
Now I wanted to make love to my woman.
We rested together for a few timeless moments, and then Marjorie rose and brought back two glasses of water and two apples. Rehydration and carbo-loading. Always a good idea. I quickly polished off my apple and downed all the water.
Marj lay down next to me and snuggled into my shoulder. She wasn’t ready to stop, was she?
Then I smiled as she nibbled at my jawline. No, she wasn’t ready to stop, and neither was I.
She trailed her soft lips over my cheek and then around the shell of my ear, flicking her tongue and driving me slowly crazy. Her breasts swept over my chest, making my nipples come alive.
I banished all thoughts of our current situation from my mind. I was going to enjoy this. I deserved to enjoy this, and so did she. Her lips made a pathway from my earlobe down my neck to my chest. When she flicked her tongue over one nipple, I shuddered. No woman had paid this much attention to my nipples, and it drove me insane. Anything Marjorie did with her lips and tongue drove me insane.
I moaned as she teased me with her lips
and tongue, nibbling at my nipple and then sucking it between her lips. So good. So fucking good.
She traveled downward to my belly and then to my cock that had hardened again in anticipation.
When she flicked her tongue onto my head, I breathed in sharply, holding back the pulsating that threatened to erupt. I wanted to savor this. Savor what she had in mind for me.
Slowly she wrapped her lips around the head of my cock, humming a slow vibration that I felt all the way to my toes.
“Baby, go easy,” I said, clenching my teeth. “I want this to last.”
She met my gaze but didn’t smile with her mouth full of my dick. But she arched her brows slightly.
Yeah. I was in for it.
She gently slid her lips down the length of my cock about three-quarters of the way, and then she moved backward. I tensed my body, my legs and my feet coiled and ready to spring. How could I take this blissful torture without grabbing her, turning her around, and pounding into her again?
But I was determined.
This would last. This would last all fucking night.
Marjorie let my cock drop and nibbled on my inner thighs and then my balls. They were already tightly scrunched toward my body, and her tiny nips made them coil up even more. When she moved me over onto my side and slid her tongue between my ass cheeks, I thought I might burst.
Her sweet little tongue probed my asshole.
Oh. My. God.
This was new for me. New…and really fucking thrilling.
No wonder women loved anal stimulation. This was heaven. I shivered and fisted my dick, holding it at the base to try to settle it down. I wasn’t going to come. Not yet.
She gave little bites to my ass and thighs while she continued her passionate assault.
Then the flat of her finger rubbed against my asshole.
And I thought I might explode.
No, don’t penetrate me.
But God, please penetrate me.
She didn’t.
Just rubbed the surface of the hole with her finger, and it felt really, really good.
I’d longed to take her sweet little ass before, something I’d never done. I’d hoped we could be the first and only for each other, but her attention to mine had me wondering… Had she done this before?