Unthinkable Games (LIttlemoon Investigations Book 3)

by Morgan Kelley

  “We had a little incident. Beckett felt something, and then touched the bed. He went under, and it was bad,” Claire offered.

  Tori crouched down, resting her fingers against his neck. “Your pulse is racing. Was it from the incident or swapping spit with Claire?”

  The woman laughed.

  “You know, when I first met you, I thought you were business all the time. Here I find out that you’re a smart ass,” he stated.

  Julian couldn’t disagree. “Amen. I’m glad someone sees it beside me.”

  She pointed at him.

  “Let’s focus on the situation at hand,” Julian suggested, trying to save his ass. “Where were you?”

  Beckett shakily got up from the floor and pulled Claire up. “I was in the closet, and then I touched that bed. Someone died on there, and it was the most violent killing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  Tori touched his arm. “You saw it?”

  “Flashes. It was all just scenes. There was a whole shitload of blood. Someone wasn’t in one piece when it was over.”

  They all looked at him, hoping that he didn't mean what he just said.

  “Dismembered?”

  He nodded. “I heard a saw and screams. He was alive at the time. It felt like torture.”

  That made Claire sick. Her poor Beckett had to experience that all alone. She’d give anything to save him from ever living that again.

  Julian headed toward the closet. Staring inside, he knew there was no other choice. With booted foot, he began kicking the wall, bracing his hands on the doorframe.

  Tori covered her mouth and nose, not knowing what was behind the plaster. The last thing she needed was to inhale some ancient bacteria.

  That would suck.

  When the kicking stopped, the dust was definitely floating around them. Julian began coughing, trying to clear his throat.

  Claire grabbed the flashlight from the desk. “Here,” she offered.

  When the beam scanned the inside of the closet, it didn't take long to find what was hidden behind the wall.

  “Is there a space in there?” Claire asked. “The closets didn't feel right.”

  “It’s a passageway. It looks like someone sealed it up to hide it,” Julian stated. “The only thing is, it’s not that old. This isn't plaster like the rest of the house. This is sheetrock.”

  Beckett could still feel the waves of energy. “Is there a body in there? I can’t really get any closer. It’s really uncomfortable. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

  Julian reached in and pulled out a skull. “Yeah, and the rest of the skeleton is in pieces.”

  Tori peeked past him to the bones. “They weren’t disarticulated because of decay. They were cut. You can see the bones are sawed in half. Look at the cut marks.”

  Score one for Beckett.

  He’d known they were in pieces before he’d seen the victim. That gave him crazy, mad, street cred in Julian’s book. While he believed the man had a gift, it was nice to get proof that it indeed did exist.

  He sighed, getting their attention.

  “You want me to hold it, don’t you?” he asked.

  They really had no choice in the matter. They had their second victim. It was obvious that this wasn’t Jeffery, so they had to keep looking.

  “If you can’t do it, let us know,” Tori stated. She knew how hard this was going to be for him. She hurt whenever she slipped into the blackout too.

  “Can I sit in Claire’s room?” he asked. “It’s too full of bad mojo in here. In there, I feel peace.”

  Julian carried the skull out of the room.

  Everyone followed him.

  Once there, he sat down in the chair and braced himself. If it felt anything like the time when he touched Bethany’s skull, it was going to suck, and the nightmares were going to chase him.

  “Are you ready?” Julian asked.

  No, but what choice did he have?

  Glancing up, he stared into Claire’s eyes, seeking that one anchor to reality. “I’m ready if your sister is,” he stated, putting all his faith in her. For some reason, she could call him out of the horrific trance.

  He was going to need her.

  “I’ve got you, Beckett,” she promised. “I won’t leave you.”

  He was grateful.

  Julian held the skull out. “No matter what you find out, we can’t go to the sheriff with this. If we turn in one more body, she’s going to do everything to get us booted out of here. We can’t help the victims if we’re locked out.”

  Beckett lifted a brow. He’d been the law, and that didn't sit right with him. “Then what do you plan on doing with the remains?”

  “We’re leaving them mostly untouched in the wall. We’ll explore the passageway, and keep it quiet. When all this is done, that’s when we’ll call her.”

  They all knew that was breaking the law, or maybe they should say skirting it.

  “Okay, Julian,” stated Tori.

  She let him drive the bus for a reason. Julian always had a plan, and this was important.

  Holding out the skull one more time, he watched the man prepare himself.

  Beckett let out a few deep breaths before he looked up. There was worry in his green eyes.

  “Let’s do it.”

  Claire watched her brother place the dead victim’s skull in Beckett’s large hands.

  Almost immediately, he went deathly still.

  “Beck?” she called. “Beck, can you hear me?”

  He didn't answer.

  Tori watched it all happen. “That’s scary. Do I look like that when I go under?” she asked.

  “Sort of,” Julian said, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him. “Your eyes glass over like that, but you look serene. He looks like he’s stressed.”

  As if on cue, the shaking began. Then, there was a drop of blood. It fell from his nose, landing on Beckett’s pants.

  And then another, and still he didn't flinch.

  Enough was enough.

  Claire ripped the skull from his hands and called for him.

  Only, the man didn't respond.

  “Beckett, you have to listen to me and come back. We need you to surface.”

  He didn't even flinch.

  Claire began panicking.

  This was bad.

  Very bad.

  ~ Chapter Fifteen ~

  He had never been more scared in all his life.

  That was saying a lot, especially since he’d seen his own brother die on the ground beside him. This was more than horrifying. It was like hell on earth--or wherever he was.

  The darkness came first, looming over him as it swirled around him with wicked intent. He knew what was coming, and if the thick darkness was any indicator, Beckett was screwed.

  Royally.

  Then, it began.

  He was hit with wave after wave of such intense pain. It overtook him, making his heart pound and his body scream in anguish.

  This was worse than anything he’d ever felt before.

  He was actually feeling the wicked slices to his flesh. It was gripping his body, refusing to let go.

  The visions flashed by, filling his head with the torment that the victim had endured. Over and over, searing pain matched each picture in his mind. It crisscrossed over his body, like knives gouging into his flesh.

  Beckett wept in pain.

  His whole body was wracked with so much anguish that he threatened to break.

  His arms were bound above him in a vicious angle, adding to the torment. As he struggled to get free, the whip of terror ripped thought his thoughts, adding to the suffering.

  He needed help.

  God! He needed help. Screaming out, he called to the only person who could save him.

  “Claire!” he begged, needing to feel the cool, easy touch of her fingers on his face.

  He continued to hear the wicked laughter as each blow rained down on him. It was so fast and hard, he could barely catch his breath.
/>   Was there no end?

  Beckett was ready to pray for death, and it occurred to him that the victim had done the same.

  The torment and torture was just too much.

  The darkness loomed once more, yanking him viciously from the pain into the swirling gray. If he didn't know any better, he would think that he was about to pass out.

  But how?

  This was new.

  Letting go of his consciousness, he allowed the dark to take him. Anything at that point was better than being tortured. If this was death, so be it.

  Beckett couldn’t do it anymore.

  The skull was too much. No wonder the room overwhelmed him.

  Now, he needed peace.

  Quiet.

  Silence.

  Claire.

  He only hoped that she could save him. If he was lost, there would be no peace.

  That he was sure of.

  * * *

  Tuesday Late Night

  She was increasingly worried about him. When he wouldn’t wake up, Julian wanted to take him to the hospital. Only, Claire wouldn’t let him.

  The last thing that Beckett would want was a bunch of doctors asking questions that he couldn’t answer. So, instead, she forced Julian to listen to her.

  Now, she had to hope she was right.

  Once they had left her room, at her insistence, Claire began soothing the man now lying on her bed.

  His flesh was hot to the touch, and she was scared that this was the end. Could a vision kill you?

  God, she had to put away that thought.

  Stripping him from his clothes, she rested him on the soft bedding. In the bathroom, she retrieved a washcloth and basin of cool water.

  With gentle fingers, she wiped his flesh, trying to keep his temperature at bay. With so much reverence, she catered to his amazing body, wiping away the dried blood over his lip.

  “I love you, Beckett,” she said, leaving cool kisses against hot skin. “I’m going to wait for you until you come back,” she promised.

  How she knew he would hear her, she didn't know. Claire had faith. He wouldn’t leave her.

  Not like this.

  When the cool of the rag touched him, he would occasionally move. He had to be in there, so it was only a matter of time.

  Claire would wait him out.

  She had to.

  With his body cooling, she blew across his chest, trying to get any response from him. His nipples tightened, and goose bumps raced across his skin.

  He was responding to stimuli.

  Staring down his naked body, she wondered if she could pull him back by giving him a different kind of overload.

  Running her finger down his hip to his groin, she watched as he indeed did respond. Beckett’s body was reacting to her touch.

  Was it wrong of her to be doing this?

  Would he be upset?

  Claire considered her options, going with the only plan she had.

  Stripping down so they would be flesh to flesh, Claire straddled his body. Immediately, he shook beneath her.

  “Come on, Beckett. If you wake up for me, I’ll make love to you,” she offered, hoping he’d hear her--wherever he was.

  Starting at his ears, she nibbled on them, pulling a shiver from his body.

  It gave her hope.

  He was in there.

  Moving lower, her mouth teased and played with his nipples. As she flicked her tongue over them, he once more responded.

  Lower and lower she moved, fingers and mouth sliding over corded hips and abs, until she found him hard and ready.

  “Beckett, come back to me,” she whispered, finding herself becoming very aroused herself. How often was a woman going to have free reign over a very sexy man’s body?

  He was like sleeping beauty, and she was about to give him that one kiss.

  Taking him in her mouth, Claire slowly offered the man beneath her as much pleasure as she could give him. With tongue, lips, and a little teeth, she teased him from erect to rock hard.

  When a little moan escaped his lips, she knew he was coming back to her. Adding her hand, she stroked him.

  Swirling her tongue over the tip of his erection, she lavished her attention right there. With everything she had, Claire called to the man she loved.

  Now, she had to hope it worked.

  He could feel the most amazing sensation in the world. It was calling to him.

  It was silk racing across his body.

  It was warm breath like the kiss of sunlight every morning across bare flesh.

  This was like heaven clearing the darkness and offering him a way back into life. He was exhausted, but the lure of deep sleep did nothing for him like this feeling.

  When he could feel her working him with her mouth, Beckett moaned.

  Claire was definitely there.

  Her scent lingered around him, even as her body gave him so much comfort in his time of need.

  She was healing him, one stroke at a time.

  As teeth slid erotically over his erection, he couldn’t stay hidden anymore.

  The pain was gone, and all he wanted was her.

  God!

  He needed her.

  She was his salvation.

  Claire could feel him moving even more. In fact, Beckett was beginning to squirm beneath her. As the soft, low whimpers slipped from between his still lips, she continued on.

  When his body bowed as her mouth pushed him closer to release, she glanced up his torso.

  He was watching her. His face was expressionless, but Beckett’s eyes were rapidly blinking as he tried to focus through the pleasure.

  “Claire,” he whispered, his voice raw from screams that no one heard but him. “Save me.”

  It was all he had to say.

  She would give anything he asked.

  Slipping him from her lips, she blew across the tip of his erection. When he groaned in pleasure, she continued on, focusing all of her attention on that one part of his body.

  Now she would heal him.

  Her mouth went back to focusing on him, leaving long licks from base to tip. When his hand shakily moved to her hair, Claire waited for him to take control.

  Beckett moaned as his fingers wrapped and buried themselves in her brown tresses. It offered him such peace that he never wanted it to end. When he thought it couldn’t give him any more, it did. Need trailed the desire. “More, Claire. I need to feel you.”

  She did what he asked as he used his hands to control the depth of her mouth. When her lips touched skin, she fought the need to not choke.

  He needed her.

  Wanted her.

  Had her.

  When he released her, she slid up, admiring the slick wet trail her mouth had left across his body.

  “I missed you.”

  God!

  He’d missed her too. She’d never know how much of a void those few minutes left in him.

  “Let me take care of you, Beck. Let me love you so much that everything heals.”

  Then, she began.

  With mouth, she traced back up his body, all the while stroking him with her hand. As her palm worked him into a frenzy, her mouth did the same.

  “Oh, Claire!”

  He didn't know what was more erotic. Was it the fact that she’d been trying to wake him this way, or how she planned on continuing like nothing had happened?

  She was healing him.

  All the cold was gone, and it was replaced by love.

  Beckett now figured it out. He never loved Melinda. She had just been a bump in the road of life. Here was the woman he was destined to fall for and love.

  He could tell.

  She stayed with him when the darkness claimed him. When he was lost, she found a way to lead him home.

  Claire Littlemoon was pure love, and he never wanted to live without it.

  Without her.

  This was his defining moment.

  She ran her long elegant fingers over his skin, trying to sha
re so much pleasure with him. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d suffered while he was ‘gone’. Now, she needed to patch that up and give him peace.

  “More?” she asked, only taking a second from leaving kisses across his body.

  “Please,” he murmured, wanting everything that she had to offer. Claire was the cure to what ailed him.

  She moved back to his nipples and gently teased them. He immediately responded.

  “Am I pleasuring you?” she asked, hoping he was feeling nothing less than ecstasy.

  “Yes!”

  She continued, teasing and tormenting him. When her hand stopped stroking him, the man gasped at the feeling.

  “Please no!”

  “I have something better for you,” she purred. Staring down into his eyes, she slid the tip of him through her wetness. “Want to find your way home?”

  It was as if she was in his mind.

  “Yes, Claire. It’s always going to be yes.”

  With that, she slid down his body, encasing him. From the sound that he made, she knew that he was wrapped in the pleasure. That’s when she began moving.

  Slowly, Claire allowed him to fill her. When he was unable to go any deeper, she began her ride.

  Beckett was lost.

  There were no words as he watched his beautiful Native woman above him. He was compelled to run his fingers down her tan skin, as he memorized each and every curve.

  She was amazing.

  “More, Claire, more!” he begged, watching her pick up speed. As she began bouncing fervently, he laid back. He was going to let her heal him.

  Claire could feel the heat racing through her body, and it was the most amazing feeling ever. She never wanted it to stop. “Feels so good,” she murmured, watching his face.

  He was awash in pleasure. Gone were the tense lines across his handsome features, and in their place was peace.

  “Honey, I may not last,” he warned, watching her breasts bounce invitingly. Reaching up, he grabbed handfuls of them, only to flick his thumbs over the berry sized nipples.

  “Oh God!” she moaned, dropping her head back.

  What began as an attempt to wake him, ended up doing that and more. He was alive because of her. Beckett’s heart would no longer allow itself to be dormant.