Seductive Shadows

by Marni Mann

  “It took a little while, but I’ve located someone who I can pass the information to…someone with the connections and power to take this to where it needs to go. This someone is far above the police, far above the court or the state, even.” He exhaled loudly. “I’ve decided to help you bring them down.”

  My body should have been overcome with happiness. With the Doctor’s help, we were going to stop the mansion…the kidnapping. The killing. As relieved as I was that he’d agreed to come clean, I didn’t know what it would mean for his fate. I cared about the future of these girls, but I cared about the Doctor—my father—too.

  “What’s going to happen to you?” I asked.

  “They’re going to offer me a plea bargain. Beyond that, I have no idea.”

  I wasn’t even sure how this would happen now. “Do you have what you need to do this…or are all the records at the mansion?”

  He reached into the front pocket of his button-down shirt. A flash drive slid out, caught between his fingers. “All of the records are on here.”

  “Everything?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even the clients?”

  I couldn’t help but think of Mr. Hunt, of how Emma’s family would be affected if all of his dealing with the mansion were to be made known.

  “Everything,” the Doctor repeated. “I’m a very thorough man. It’s all on here—any client who has ever had a membership, a list of the girls who’ve worked there through the years, the men and women who were kidnapped off the streets, all of the records we kept on them, the buyers, and a copy of our books.”

  “And the employees?”

  “Their names and social security numbers are on there, too.”

  A piece of plastic the size of the Doctor’s thumb held as much potential for damage as a natural disaster; it incriminated them, it gave undeniable proof of what had been happening in the mansion. The aftershocks would continue for years. The number of people this would affect was almost unfathomable. And it was all coming out because of me.

  “When are we going to deliver it to our…contact?” I asked.

  “You’re not going to deliver anything, and you’re not going to leave this apartment for any reason unless you’re being relocated by the authorities. Tomorrow, I’ll be delivering the flash drive to my contact.”

  If his life was going to be on the line for this, then so was mine.

  “No. I have to go with you.”

  “Then the deal is off.”

  “What?” I put my feet back on the floor, sliding to the edge of the couch. “Why?”

  “After tonight, when they realize you’ve skipped work and the tracking device in your cell phone hadn’t shown any movement for hours, they’ll be looking for you. I refuse to put you at risk. For the time being, you need to stay hidden. No exceptions.”

  “But—”

  “I asked you if you trusted me, Charlie, and you said you did. You’re going to have to continue trusting me. I will prove to you that I’m going to do the right thing.”

  Emma’s face flashed before me. She hadn’t purposely sacrificed her life for me, but her body had absorbed more of the impact from the car that hit us, all because she sat in the passenger side. My side. I didn’t want the Doctor to stop anything from hitting me. I was as committed as he, and I wanted to be just as involved. But I had just convinced him that his daughter was important enough for him to sacrifice his freedom. I knew he wouldn’t be willing to compromise my safety.

  “OK,” I said. “You can go alone.”

  He stood from the chair. “I promise you’ll have time to ask your other questions. I know you have a lot of them, and I’m sure they don’t all center around the mansion. It’s only fair that I answer…and I want to. Honestly. But it isn’t going to happen right now.”

  I nodded. “I understand.” He broke eye contact and turned his back to me, walking toward the bedrooms. “Wait!” I called.

  He stopped and glanced over his shoulder.

  “I have a favor to ask.”

  He turned and faced me fully. “After all of this, you want something more from me?”

  It probably sounded ungrateful of me, though that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

  “Yes,” I answered. “Just a small favor.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  I had nothing but time before the evidence was handed over, so I explored the apartment and learned that there were multiple bedrooms throughout the space. There was also a movie theater, and an entire second level that had its own kitchen. The panic room was the most interesting of everything. It had multiple cameras and monitors that displayed various vantage points within the apartment, outside the building, and along the surrounding streets. The Doctor had let me choose where I wanted to sleep, so I’d picked a room that faced Washington Street. I watched the sidewalk below, filled with shoppers and pushcarts, activity that reminded me of how quiet everything was in here, and that, somewhere nearby, life was normal.

  The Doctor’s assistant had filled my closet with clothes—jeans and tops and pajamas. Everything was the perfect size…even the dresses. I had no idea what I would need those for, but they hung in my walk-in among the shoes and belts and undergarments. My bathroom had been stocked with cosmetics; the cabinet under the flat screen was loaded with Blu-Rays and books had been added to the shelves above the desk. I had cable, and a mini-fridge; I even had an array of nail polish at my disposal. The Doctor had said to let him know if I needed anything else. Considering that the only things I had brought with me were a change of clothes, a few brushes, and Lilly’s sweater, all I would have needed to make it complete was a canvas and a palette filled with paint.

  Our conversations in the penthouse were far less structured than our sessions in the mansion, and less emotionally-charged than our discussions in the limo. Here, there was no prescribed form to our dialogue and I could tell he didn’t know how to act around me. So instead of maintaining an awkward silence, he allowed me to ask anything I wanted.

  And I did.

  I learned that he had never been married, and he wasn’t dating anyone presently. He’d never been intimate with any of the girls at the mansion; it hadn’t felt right after counseling them and manipulating their logic for wanting to stay employed when he would only end up calling their time of death. I tried to understand his reasoning, but his lack of empathy was sobering.

  As for his share of the mansion, his father (also a doctor) had played a similar role during his time there. He’d passed down his share a decade ago, a few months before the man I now knew to be my grandfather had passed away unexpectedly.

  When the Doctor first began working in the mansion, the girls were kept alive, but sold and trafficked on the international market as sex slaves. It was about five years later, when the demand for organs and the profitability of their trade was discovered, that the mansion switched their tactics. I asked him what had drawn him into this lifestyle; he told me he was tired of the practice he worked in, being held captive by insurance and medical restraints. At the mansion, aside from the board, he had no bosses, no colleagues or co-workers for him to pretend he cared about. He was in complete control. Power wasn’t the only thing that had enticed him, though; he’d been compelled by the dark mysteriousness of the house, the decades of secrets held within those walls, and the allure of the underground. We never discussed the killings, who was actually responsible for them or how much he’d witnessed through the years. I didn’t ask how it had affected him, but I could see by his inability to register remorse that his not caring had led him to apathy rather than freedom. It seemed as if I’d entered his life at just the right moment.

  Alone in my bathroom, I cracked the door to let out some of the steam from the shower and swiped my hand over the fogged mirror. I held the towel with one hand and leaned toward the glass. My fingers shook a little when I drew them under my eyelids and pushed against the puffiness of my cheeks. My mask was finally off, and there wasn’t a shad
ow dark enough or a foundation thick enough to hide me now. Nothing could change who I was. I knew I had made some poor choices all the way through, and that things might never be how I wanted. But I accepted that. After doing so much wrong, I had finally done something right.

  “Charlie?”

  The sound of my name made me jump; the towel almost dropped. I turned toward the door. A tiny portion of a face stared back through the crevice. The voice, the tone, the caramel skin...

  It couldn’t be.

  I yanked the door open. Standing a few feet from me, dressed in jeans and a casual button-down, was Cameron. “What are you doing here?” I wanted to rush into his arms. But after everything I’d put him through, I had to let him be the one to make the decision for something like that.

  “I wanted to know where you were, so I got in touch with your dad. He isn’t so happy that I did it…or that I’m here.”

  My stomach tightened.

  “Why would you do something like that?”

  His hands rose to the doorframe and pressed on the jamb as he leaned into the bathroom. I shifted my weight between my feet, squeezing the ends of the towel so it wouldn’t fall open.

  “I wanted to find you. To meet you there. To start over again with you, wherever you were.” His eyes said as much as his words.

  “You were going to give up everything…to come with me?”

  He stepped into the bathroom and stopped just inches away. His hands cupped my cheeks as he tilted my face up toward his. “I don’t know what you went through before you started working in that place; I’m not going to pretend to understand. Something in your life must have been bad enough for you to have made that choice, and I can’t judge you for that. We’ve all done things we regret, Charlie.”

  I searched his face, hoping to know what he was leading to with all of this, to prepare myself for whatever overpowering emotion I was headed for next.

  “You’re not there anymore; you did the right thing by leaving that place. What isn’t clear to me is why you’re still here.”

  “Still here?” I put my hand on his chest. I needed to know that he was actually in this bathroom, that he had really just spoken…that his mouth was really this close to mine.

  “Yes—still here, at your dad’s apartment. Why are you still in Boston at all?” His fingers stroked my cheeks; his thumb slowly circled the skin above my lip. The promise held within his breathtaking blue eyes encircled me. I knew I was safe.

  “I’ve decided not to run after all,” I said. “I’m staying instead.”

  “So you’re not leaving…me?”

  My flesh began to heat and tingle under his fingers. My hands still clenched the towel and held it closed...but I was losing strength.

  “We’re taking the information about the people I’ve been working for to the authorities. We’re going to put an end to their organization.” Saying it to him out loud was surreal. “They may end up taking me somewhere to keep me safe. But I’m not leaving…not like I thought I would be.”

  His lips moved closer and halted just beyond the surface of mine. I took in his face, the expression I never thought I’d see again. I closed my eyes and waited for his mouth to find me. Our breath mingled in the air between us, as though someone had paused our love scene.

  “So that means…?”

  My eyes burst open. He was grinning, but his passion showed beneath it. It was consuming us both. I knew he could feel it from me, but it was clear that he wanted to hear it from me, too.

  And I wanted to say it.

  “I’m yours.” Before I had a chance to finish the last word, he took my lip and clenched it between his teeth. A moan traveled from my mouth to his.

  “I need you,” I said. “Now.”

  His hands circled my ass and lifted, pulling me up against him and into his arms as he carried me out of the bathroom. He set me down on the bed, but he didn’t give me all of his weight. He hovered over me instead. I didn’t bother reaching for the buttons of his shirt; I just gripped the bottom of it and pulled it over his head. I needed to feel his skin on mine…at last. I rested my face on his chest. His tattoos surrounded me, and his warmth covered my mouth.

  I was…home.

  Finally.

  The short bristles of his hair tickled my neck as he dipped from my lips to my throat, pressing hungry kisses across my skin. He spanned the length of flesh that bordered the edge of the towel, teasing my breasts, making them crave his tongue. His eyes met mine as his teeth bit into the towel, and he slowly pulled it down, revealing the pieces of me he had painted not so long ago. When it finally reached my knees, he climbed off the bed and stood by my feet.

  His eyes took me in gradually—I was naked before him, completely now, for the first time. “I can’t believe this is mine, that you are finally mine.” His fingers curled around my heels and he dragged me toward him. My back slid over the silken comforter.

  The sudden movement made me laugh. When my ass reached the end of the bed, I leaned up, yanked at his zipper and undid the button, and shimmied his jeans down his legs. Then I pulled down his boxers and took his throbbing hardness in my hand. “And I can’t believe this is all mine.”

  He straddled my body as I reclined into the bed to enjoy his mouth as it wandered all over me. I slipped the blanket into my hands, pulling it far off the mattress to bear the tingling he was building. He moved to my nipples, taking each bud into his mouth, simultaneously flicking and sucking one while squeezing the other between his fingers. When the other grew ravenous for his tongue, he switched the action. My neck tilted back as the top of my head sank into the bed. My mouth released a blending of sounds, breaths and soft shouts.

  When he reached that spot, the one just at the tip of my navel, warming the tiny hole and filling it with wetness, my body began to beg for him. The tingling sensation intensified. As it began to pulsate, his tongue found me, making me quiver and tremble. While he caressed and lapped against the inside of my folds, his hands roamed my body. Sometimes he filled me with two fingers; sometimes he covered my breasts. My clit responded so easily to his pace, to the smooth circling and horizontal flicks, I found I couldn’t control my legs any longer. He pushed them apart and held them wide, setting the sides of my thighs on the bed. His hands were much stronger than I remembered, and more calloused. The patches of hardness on each of his fingers only made him sexier.

  My mind drifted to the feeling that spread throughout my body, the carnal need that slowly filled me from within. I moved with him, guided by his rocking rhythm, his fingers taking their place within me as I neared my climax. I glanced down, my eyes meeting the top of his head. The sight of him combined with the eternity I’d been longing for him, combined with the idea that he’d searched for me, the knowledge that he was here now in my father’s house—all of it increased the build. And then I lost control. I let the sensation wrap its layers around me, my body waving over the bed, my breath escaping my throat in kind.

  His lips moved up my stomach and sucked my skin until they reached my mouth. I surrounded them with mine, tasting myself, the flavor of the pleasure that he had caused. But his lips weren’t as they had been prior; now they inspired an untamed need that clawed at me, that sank its teeth into my flesh.

  He positioned himself between my legs, but he didn’t enter. I moved my hips down until my opening met his tip, and I pushed gently. One of his hands clasped mine; his fingers held me firmly, and I squeezed back. He inserted a little more. When I tried to take all of him, he stopped me. The desire built rapidly. My teeth demonstrated my hunger, nipping at his earlobe, down along the bottom of his neck and over his chest. When I gnawed on his nipple, he entered me fully. The passion took control of our bodies, both of us pushing forward to meet in the middle of each thrust.

  Cameron used a pressure that filled me for just the right duration, and a rotation that hit several spots at once. The sensation was more than just a slow and steady increase; it was a closeness, a bond that meshed
with everything else. I knew he felt it too; he showed me with his hands, with his mouth, with the way he whispered against my face. I could feel it in his breath. And they all brought me further. Deeper. There was no way to stop the build that was happening between my legs. I wanted to postpone it, extend it…to hold him there forever and never let him go. But I also wanted to be consumed—by him, by this overwhelming orgasmic passion.

  I told him how close I was, and he quickened his penetration; his fingers moved to my clit and he rubbed it simultaneously. Then it started, in the core of my stomach, the feeling spreading toward my breasts and my nipples before shooting back down into my legs. Our bodies shuddered at the same time, and my muscles became sensitive as he gave his final strokes. A second spasm of tingles suddenly began its torturous decent. Then everything turned numb.

  He moved to my side, pulling my back into his stomach and enveloping me in his arms. His lips pressed into my shoulder, covering the two side-by-side freckles. “I’m not going to let you go again. I’m not going to lose you.”

  My eyes closed; my heart throbbed inside my chest. I knew so much was going to change once the Doctor handed over the flash drive. I knew things might never be the same, that there was still a chance I would end up having to move away from Boston.

  I knew there were shadows that had yet to be dispelled.

  So I held onto this moment, onto Cameron, onto the home and the dawn that I had finally found. “No,” I said. “You’re not. And I’m not going to lose you, either.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  When I’d originally asked for my favor, the Doctor had acted as though he understood and would be more than willing to grant it. That was probably because he never thought I would ever follow through with it. But once it was time for us to depart, he wasn’t so eager. He actually balked at the idea of carrying through with his promise. He told me the whole idea was ridiculous, that I was putting him, Roberto, and myself at risk because we would have to leave the apartment. He was worried he would miss his afternoon meeting with his contact, the man he’d be giving the information to about the mansion. And he was annoyed that I was asking him to take part in something he didn’t believe in. It wasn’t only that he didn’t believe in psychics; he detested the entire concept and was certain that all of it was nothing more than a scam. The Doctor practiced medicine, science and fact, not impulse, intuition and instinct. He said nothing would make him change his mind.