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Bound by the Past

Page 6

by Mari Carr


  “And what happens if Cassandra calls you? There’s a good chance she will, you know. She still believes you were true to her cause until the end. That you are the son she raised in her image. She’ll want you with her in this venture.”

  “And when I turn her down, she’ll call Night. He was there beside me all the way, and as Rex’s son, she’ll see the potential in involving him. You know as well as I do, he’s praying he gets the call.”

  “You were partners in that dungeon, Jon. Cassandra won’t be happy with only one of you. She’ll want the pair.”

  His temper rose again. “She’ll have to make do. I’m not throwing away everything I’ve worked so hard for. I really don’t give a shit about Cassandra Walker. As far as I’m concerned, she’s dead.”

  Reilly shook his head. He could see that, as far as his former boss was concerned, this conversation was far from finished. “Dammit. We need your help to crack this case. Night can’t go in there alone. It’s too dangerous. I agree with one thing you’ve said tonight. It is time to move on. Stop wallowing in self-recriminations and guilt. Bring down Cassie and it all goes away.”

  “Don’t you think I wish that was true? But it’s not, Reilly. You’ve been dangling that fucking forgiveness carrot in front of our noses for years. Solve this case and all your sins will be absolved. Fuck that! Maybe Cassandra goes to jail. What happens when five or ten years from now, another former cult member crawls out of the woodwork and starts wreaking havoc? I’m bound to my past forever. There is no escape.”

  “You’re wrong. Cassie is it. She’s the end.”

  “She won’t let us back in as easily as you think, Reilly. Cassandra trusts no one. Not even me or Night. You know that. She’ll demand a test of our loyalty.”

  “She’ll ask us to train one of the women sexually as proof we’re still committed to her, that we’re not averse to joining her in her life of crime.” Night’s words came from the stairs. He glanced over and noticed his friend had helped himself to a pair of his sweatpants and a T-shirt. “If she’s starting up some sort of prostitution ring, she’ll definitely use sex as the test.”

  “We don’t know for sure that anything sexual is going on in there. It could be just what the sign says—a retreat.” Even as he spoke the words, Jon knew them for the farce they were.

  Night didn’t even bother to contradict him. He merely burst into laughter.

  Reilly didn’t seem to share Night’s humor. “I can only begin to guess what Cassandra is doing to those women.”

  Jon glanced once again at the picture of the young girl. “Reilly, I really can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

  “Jon, you and Night could enter that compound tomorrow with very few questions asked. Hell, your mother would roll out the red carpet for you. We’ll never get an agent near that place in less than a year. How many women will be raped and sold or possibly murdered in that time? And what about the children?”

  “I’m a teacher, Reilly. My James Bond days are over.” Carly had told him he looked like the superspy. Little did she know how close to the truth she’d really come.

  “Your what?”

  “Nothing. My answer is no.”

  In uncharacteristic anger, Reilly grabbed his folder as he stalked to the front door. “Then God help the young girls at your school because you can be damn sure more than a few of them will suffer for your decision.”

  With that parting shot, Reilly slammed the door—on Jon’s house and on his normal future.

  Chapter Six

  Monday came too early. Jon struggled to focus on the lesson he was teaching. He and Night had spent most of the evening reminiscing about their days with the agency and catching up on the past year and a half. Both of them were careful to avoid any mention of Cassandra and her newest project. He knew Night was anxiously awaiting her call, desperate to get back onto the compound to exact his revenge once and for all.

  He also suspected Reilly knew a hell of a lot more than he was sharing with them. It wouldn’t be the first time their boss had strung them along with only bits and pieces of the puzzle. And if Reilly was correct, what would Jon do if and when his mother called? The mere thought of setting foot on the mountain again made him want to throw up.

  The day had been long. He was physically and mentally exhausted. The image of Trisha Jackson’s empty desk had haunted him since third period. Where was she right now? What was happening to her? Glancing at the clock for the tenth time in as many minutes, he finally threw in the towel.

  “Let’s call it a day on grammar, eh?” There was an audible murmur of approval until he added, “Get out your literature books and turn to page seventy-two. Begin reading the short story. What you don’t finish is for homework, along with the questions at the end. And folks, when I say answer in complete sentences, I mean the kind with a subject and a predicate. Got it?”

  Stumbling to his desk, he tried to concentrate on grading the essays before him. He hadn’t made one mark when the final bell rang.

  “Bye, Mr. Walker.”

  “See you tomorrow, Paula.”

  He watched the petite blonde girl meet her best friend in the hallway. The two girls put their heads together and immediately started chatting and giggling. Reilly’s words from the night before drifted back to him. As painful as it was for him to admit, he knew it was only a matter of time before more young girls were dragged to Cassandra’s so-called retreat by their desperate mothers.

  Glancing out the window, he noticed the storm clouds that hovered all day had gotten even darker. Rubbing his forehead, he tried to ward off the headache that had grown worse as the day progressed.

  “Knock, knock.” He turned toward the voice and it felt as if the sun had finally come out.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  “Looks like you aren’t exaggerating. What’s wrong? Headache?” Carly asked.

  “Just a little one. Shut the door and come here.” He stood up and crooked a finger at her.

  Grinning, she followed his orders, practically skipping across the room to throw herself into his arms. Dipping his head, he met her lips in a pleasant kiss.

  “I missed you today,” she said.

  “Sorry about lunch. I worked through it.” Usually he took his sandwich and ate with her in the teacher’s lounge, but today he hadn’t been able to summon the energy to walk down the hall.

  “Doesn’t look like you’ve made much progress.” She pointed to the large stack of unmarked essays on his desk.

  “Can’t seem to concentrate.”

  “Join the club. My head’s been in the clouds all day. Last night was hell. The bed seemed so cold and empty without your big, strong,” she paused for effect, glancing down at the front of his pants, “arms around me.”

  He laughed at her sexy teasing. He’d been lonely too. Tossing and turning, he’d spent most of the night wishing he could lose himself in her sweet body again. “Keep talking like that and I’ll toss you up on that desk.”

  “Promises, promises. Actually, I’m here to see if you want to come to dinner tonight.”

  “As long as you’re the appetizer, main course and dessert.” He placed a hand on her back, guiding her out of the room. “Hurry. I’m starving.”

  * * * * *

  The second they entered her house, Jon shut the door behind them. With firm hands on her shoulders, he pushed her to her knees.

  She looked up at him, surprise warring with longing in her gaze.

  “Suck me,” he demanded, painfully aware of his cold, demanding tone. Taking a deep breath, he struggled to add “please” in a kinder voice.

  She gave him a sweet, nervous smile and reached up to unfasten his trousers. Again he fought the demons clamoring to get out, overwhelmed by the desire to bury himself deep in her throat.

  She pulled out his hard erection. He groaned when her tongue lightly swiped her lower lip as she looked at him. He ran his fingers through her wavy hair and pulled her toward him.

 
Just as she was about to take him inside her mouth, he tilted her head upward, forcing her to look at his face. With a questioning glance, she paused.

  “I can’t…I need…” He wasn’t sure how to express what he wanted in words, but Carly seemed to understand. She leaned forward and engulfed his turgid flesh in her hot, wet mouth.

  Without so much as a kiss or soft touch, he fucked her mouth. It was as if he truly believed she could suck every bit of darkness out of him. He felt her fighting against his fast pace and deep thrusts. She’d never given a blowjob like this before.

  “Open your throat,” he said.

  She gagged slightly and he eased up. “You can do this, Carly. I need you to do this. Please.”

  His words seemed to work their way into her psyche and when he thrust in again, she took him to the hilt as the head of his erection brushed the back of her throat.

  “That’s it, baby. Oh God, that feels so good.”

  Words escaped him as he continued to pound into her sweet, hot mouth. Carly worked his cock like a pro. He felt her hiss as his fingers tightened in her hair. He was hurting her, but he couldn’t seem to loosen his grip. Glancing down, he sensed she liked the edge of pain. She reached out to grasp his balls in one of her hands and it was his turn to hiss as she squeezed. The pleasure and pain of the act was the catalyst he needed as his cock exploded, spraying the back of her throat with what felt like a ton of hot semen.

  “Drink it,” he demanded. “God, take it all. Take it all.” Carly complied and for several seconds, she simply held him in her mouth as he struggled to come back to earth.

  The second he regained his senses, shame threatened to swallow him whole and he carried her to her bed.

  “Oh Blue Eyes,” he murmured, his voice betraying his remorse and regret. “Jesus, I didn’t mean to use you like that.”

  Carly giggled. “That was so incredibly hot. Dammit, Jon, you make me feel wicked and wild. I love it.”

  He grinned at her enthusiastic response. “Still, I think I owe you one.”

  “Or two,” she teased. “Or maybe three or four. I was pretty good down there.”

  He laughed but took care with her, desperate to make up for the roughness of his previous effort. He made love to her gently, covering her with soft, wet kisses.

  Afterward, they cuddled.

  “Mmm. I think I promised you dinner.” Carly ran her hand across his bare chest.

  “So you did. What do you say we order a pizza and fuck again? I don’t really like the idea of you getting out of this bed.”

  “No, no more pizza. That’s all we ate this weekend. I am making you a proper dinner.”

  He started to complain but at that exact moment, his stomach growled. Carly laughed. Bending down, she placed a quick kiss on his abdomen. “I bought steaks.”

  “Damn, why didn’t you say so? Come on, I’ll help.”

  As they cooked together, Jon tried to push back the guilt that wouldn’t let him go. He didn’t deserve her, didn’t deserve this happiness. Jesus. If he were a stronger man, he would get the hell out of this town—away from her and his fucking past—before both of them were destroyed completely.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” she said, jerking him from his disturbing concerns.

  “Actually, I was considering tossing you up on that counter and having my way with you again.” The lie came easily. A lifetime of practice at deception was bound to lead to perfection.

  “You, Mr. Walker, have a one-track mind.”

  “I warned you right from the start, Carly.”

  “Yeah,” she acknowledged. “You did, but let’s eat first. We’ve got all night for what you have in mind.”

  Her words triggered another thought and he sighed. “Actually, we don’t. My best friend Night showed up late last night. He’s at my place right now. I really need to leave after dinner.”

  Carly placed her hands on her hips, annoyed. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have invited him to dinner tonight as well.”

  He grinned before swatting her playfully on the ass. “If you’d done that, I wouldn’t have gotten my appetizer.”

  “You plan to introduce us, don’t you?”

  Her question left him instantly regretting the fact that he’d started this conversation. “I’m not sure how long he’ll be staying.”

  Carly’s face fell a bit, shrugging sadly before she turned around to continue mixing the salad. Shit, there was no way he could confess his reason for not wanting her and Night to meet. How could he tell her he was afraid the image of her with his best friend would lead to cravings he’d never be able to fight?

  Walking over to her, Jon wrapped his arms around her, pulling Carly back to his chest. He nipped lightly at her ear and did the one thing he sensed he would be doing a lot of in regards to his new love. He lied. “I’ll bring him around one day. I’m warning you, though, he thinks he’s a regular lady killer.”

  She smiled at his words and turned in his arms. “I can’t wait to meet him. You’ve never told me anything about your past and I have to say, I’ve always wondered. Besides Night, you’ve never even mentioned any other friends or relatives.”

  Jon shrugged and tried to keep his face from giving away the turmoil swamping his insides. “Not much to tell. Night is my only connection to the past. My dad died when I was just a kid and I don’t talk to my mother.”

  He could see a million questions lining up on her lips, but he cut them all off with a deep kiss.

  “I’m starving, Blue Eyes. What do you say we get this dinner out of the way, so you can feed my hunger?”

  Chapter Seven

  When Jon let himself into his townhouse later that night, he immediately sensed Night’s presence in the darkened living room. It looked like his friend didn’t plan to return to his observation post on the mountain anytime soon.

  “Hello, Jon. How’s the girlfriend?”

  “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

  “You know me, bud. Happier in the dark. Easier to hide my sins without some harsh light beating down.”

  “Have you been drinking?” Jon turned on the light. Night’s legs were stretched out and resting on the coffee table. He noticed the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hands.

  “Making yourself at home, aren’t you?” Jon dropped down to sit beside his friend and grabbed the bottle. Taking a long swig, he handed it back. “No phone call, I presume?”

  “Not a peep. Old bitch is certainly taking her time calling in the recruits.” Night took another drink of whiskey and passed the bottle back.

  Jon studied his friend’s face. The last four years had chiseled it down to a sharp caricature of its former self. He’d lost weight, yet Night more than made up for it in muscle mass. Always handsome in a clean-cut, all-American-boy way, he now looked more like a cross between Rambo and a Ken doll. His hair was longer than he’d ever seen it. The burnished gold mass of waves reached past his shoulders. The deep lines cut into his face could only have been put there by lots of time in the sun and hard living.

  He should know. Jon saw the same lines on his face every morning in the mirror.

  “You need a haircut.”

  Night laughed. “So do you. So how is darling Carly?”

  Jon took another drink, letting the whiskey work its soothing way into his soul. He was bone-weary and the hot liquor was going a long way toward loosening up the pain.

  “Carly is amazing.” He leaned back against the couch, the thought of her washing through him.

  Night’s eyebrows flew up. “Amazing, eh? Damn, man, you got it bad.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, I do. She’s beautiful and funny. She looks at a person and sees everything good inside.”

  “She sees something good inside you?” Night’s tone was teasing, but Jon answered anyway.

  “Incredibly enough, she does.”

  Jon looked at his friend and noticed a flash of pain cross his face before he hid it behind the bottle.

  “
Wonder if she’d see anything good in me?” Night mumbled the rhetorical question. Jon had no doubt he’d never have uttered it if he hadn’t been three sheets to the wind.

  “Don’t you think it’s time you move on? Get the hell out of the CAA, maybe go to school. Find a normal job and a normal life before this one eats you alive.”

  “Be like you?” Night’s words were harsh, anger filled his gaze. “Just give up and let Cassandra win? Let that fucking bitch start all over again, destroying lives while we sit on our asses and pretend to be normal? Screw that. You and I will never be normal. Never.”

  “If I really believed that, I’d be dead by now. Unlike you, I refuse to wallow in the dirt of our past.” Jon’s hands were shaking. It was all he could do not to hit his best friend. Night’s words were cutting too close to the vein, too close to his true fears.

  “You think because you’ve got this job, this girlfriend, the past just disappears. Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you, the past will catch up to you and when it does, you can kiss your normal life goodbye. Let’s see what good Carly spots inside you when she finds out she’s hooked up with a closet Dom with a taste for bondage—who learned all his tricks from dear old Mommy and her cult buddies. Better yet, what do you think she’ll say when she realizes the only way you’ll ever be truly complete and happy with a woman is when we take her together?”

  As soon as the angry words passed Night’s lips, Jon watched his friend’s face go pale. Speechless, he struggled to find words to deny the truth.

  “Forget it.” Night leaned back and closed his eyes. “I’m drunk and saying stupid shit. Forget it all.”

  “I can’t forget it, Night. I’ve never forgotten any of it. Is that what you think? Because I’m trying to move on with my life I’ve erased every memory? Christ, I should be so lucky.”

  Night sat motionless, but now that the vault was open, Jon couldn’t let the subject die.

  “Funny thing is, even if I could erase the past, I wouldn’t wipe away one single minute of our time together. Night, you’re more than my best friend. You’re closer to me than a brother. I swear to God, you know me better than I know myself. Maybe I do try too hard to be normal, to escape the way we were raised—and I’m pretty damn sure it’s the height of abnormality to want you in bed with me and Carly. The hell of it is, I do want you there.” Night’s eyes flew open at his admission, but Jon wasn’t finished with his confession. “But Carly is normal. And regardless of my desires, I couldn’t…I wouldn’t do that to her.”

 

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