God, it felt good. It felt right.
She felt right, wriggling beneath me, her body snug against mine. She felt right every time. But God, this couldn’t be right, could it? Not like this.
But I didn’t care. She needed me, and I needed her.
I shifted my weight, pausing mid-kiss long enough to pull off the tank top she’d put on just minutes ago. My hands traced over her soft skin, memorizing her lines and curves. She pushed me over, climbing on top of me, hips rocking into me. I ran my hands up and down her back as she kissed me, her mouth devouring mine.
“Ginny,” I gasped when she let me up for air. “I don’t have…”
“Shhh.” She grinned, killing me, and reached past me to her nightstand to hand me a foil packet. “I’m on the pill, anyway.”
I moaned as she kissed her way down my chest. The touch of her lips was like fire on my skin. They moved back up until they were on mine again, hungry and hot. My hands reached around, undoing her bra. I slipped it off her and rolled us over again so I was on top. I slid low, pressing kisses into her neck and collar and the soft skin below before taking a nipple in my mouth. She gasped as I sucked gently, my tongue making lazy circles, and she groaned when my teeth grazed the tender, swollen bud.
She pulled me up by my shoulders and grabbed my hips, holding me close, and pushing at the band of my boxers. I rolled away to kick them off while she did the same with hers, and then she was on me, stealing the condom from my hands and tearing it open.
“Mmm, Lord, Evan.”
I moaned as she touched me, her hand sliding along the length of me. “Ginny, don’t…”
I remembered the last time she’d had her hands on me. God, I’d never forget.
“Relax,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss my mouth while she stroked me. “I want you for me this time.”
I made another noise, clenching my teeth as she grasped me tight and rolled the condom on. Then her legs were straddling me again, and I was flipping her underneath me. I rocked against her hips, once, twice, feeling the heat and wetness between her legs, and then pushed back. Her hand reached down, guiding me in until I was there, pressing against her. I pushed in slowly, letting her surround me.
God, she was tight. So fucking tight around me, so hot.
I pushed again, sinking deeper. She moaned and clutched my hips. Another thrust, and then one last, and our hips pressed flush against each other. I kissed her then, our bodies so solid against each other. Her tongue rubbed against mine, her inner muscles squeezed me, and I was lost. I pulled back and rocked into her, pushing deep, taking all of her, and again. She matched my rhythm, rising to meet me. I kissed her hard, forcing myself to keep to long, deep, hard strokes.
Her fingers dug into my back and my hips, trying to force me faster. I was drowning in her touch, the press of her skin, the pounding, rushing blood. I pulled my mouth lower, nipping at her shoulder, her collar, her neck
“Evan… Oh Lord, Evan…” Ginny moaned, and I couldn’t help myself. I sped up my thrusts, diving into her again and again. I wanted her to come, needed her to come, but the way she was pushing me…
She screamed my name, her body arching beneath me, and I was gone. The heat and pressure came thundering through me until there was nothing left.
Chapter Fourteen
Ginny woke me with a kiss. A brush of her mouth, a tug on my bottom lip, a dip of her tongue. My body responded before I was really awake.
It was a damn fine way to wake up.
She pulled away with a happy sigh and laid her head on my chest. “Thanks for taking care of me last night.”
I hugged her tight. “How are you? I mean, you’re talking, so…”
“I’m fine. We Eyre women are tough.”
I believed that. I just didn’t believe she was okay. Worse, after everything that happened, I couldn’t get our argument out of my head. I wanted this to be more than convenience and fun. I wanted to be treated like I mattered, so that moments like this mattered too.
I wanted her to stop pushing me away because—under the mask, and the hurt, and everything—I was pretty sure there was a girl I really cared about.
“What’s wrong?”
I looked down to see honey-gold eyes staring at me. “What?”
“You’re all frowny and stiff. What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, feeling bad that I’d even been thinking about it. There’d been a murder and a damned gruesome one, too. Now was fucked-up timing to start begging for attention.
“It’s nothing. Really.”
She narrowed her eyes and stared at me. “Evan. What you were saying yesterday—”
The sound of shouting drifted up through the window, interrupting her.
“Shit!” Ginny flew out of the bed. “That’s Daddy, and he sounds pissed as hell.”
I groaned and slid out of the bed. I reached for the door, but Ginny snagged me for a kiss. She grinned against my lips and then pushed me away.
I smiled and unlocked the door. “I’ll be right back.”
I ran down to my room and cleaned up. The rain had wound down to a drizzle, but it still felt cool, so I tossed on a clean pair of jeans and a black shirt with a random silver screen printing on it before I ran a toothbrush through my mouth.
Ginny was just finishing when I reached her room. All evidence of the previous night was gone, cleaned up and vanished. The yelling had gotten louder but was still too distorted to make anything out.
Ginny sighed. “He’s probably here about Brandon. And by the sound of it, so are the Ingrams.”
I pulled her to me and wrapped my arms around her. “You don’t have to go down.”
“I do. I’m not letting Mama face that alone.”
She had a point. I kissed her head and took her hand, leading her downstairs.
The door to the foyer stood open, with Ms. Catherine blocking the way. Beyond her, I could see Drayton and Blanche Ingram, as well as some other woman with bleached hair and too much makeup. I guessed this was Melvina Ingram. She looked just like her daughter and sounded even shriller.
“Ginny, is that…”
“Fuck it to hell. Yes. I can’t believe he brought her. I can’t believe any of them are here. Bastard.”
I squeezed her hand. “Come on.”
We came up behind Ms. Catherine, fanning out to either side of her. Ginny took her mom’s hand and glared at the intruders.
I cleared my throat. “Do you need me to call anyone, Ms. Catherine?”
“Thank you, Evan. But they were just leaving.”
Drayton turned an even darker shade of purple. “Like hell we are! That boy there, your damn watchdog. He’s to blame, and I’ll see him arrested for Brandon’s murder!”
I glared at him. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“You just watch yourself, boy.” Drayton shoved his finger in my face. “I know how your kind of people operate. You’re all drug dealers and murderers. You’ve crossed a line, and I’ll see you pay for it!”
“I haven’t crossed any line, and I have the alibi to prove it. And even if you don’t believe Ginny, half of Charleston can corroborate it. But while we’re on the subject, what exactly was Brandon doing here, anyway? He was in the pool house—his blood was all over it. I think maybe you’re feeling extra guilty because you sent him over to—”
“You hush your mouth! Just hush the fuck up!” Blanche threw herself at me, screaming, her makeup streaked from crying. “That’s my brother you’re slandering, and I’ll kill you for it!” “He’s dead because of you! If you’d just left your filthy, grasping hands to yourself—”
The sound of flesh hitting flesh rang out clear as a bell across the courtyard. Ginny’d stepped right into Blanche’s path, stopping her dead with one of the most vicious slaps I’d ever seen. I was so proud it was ridiculous.
Ginny leaned in, right in Blanche’s face, while she was still caught in the shock.
“Get. Off. My. Porch.”
<
br /> “Blanche!” Mrs. Ingram glared at her daughter. Blanche actually backed up a step. “A lady does not shriek at her lessers. No matter how angry she is.”
Ms. Catherine glared daggers. “Really, Melvina. Show a little emotion. She just lost her brother. You just lost your son, for that matter. And what a waste, really.”
Everyone stopped. Watching Ginny and Blanche go at it was one thing. But Ms. Catherine and Mrs. Ingram was another altogether.
“Yes. I did just lose a son. No thanks to you. Your family has brought this island no small amount of shame, Catherine. You and your little busybody business. Matchmaking. Ha! Whoring, I call it! You’d do well to bring it under control. But then, you’ve never cared about anyone else, so long as you got what you want, have you now?”
“You’re one to talk about bringing things under control, Melvina honey. It’s a true shame Brandon died before he got a chance to see life out from under your thumb.”
“I’ll slap that taste right out of your lying mouth, Catherine Eyre! My boy was perfect—something I can’t say for your daughter. She’s the biggest slut on the island and small wonder, being brought up here!”
I grabbed Ginny before she could do more than lurch forward.
“My daughter, Melvina, is already twice the woman you are. And she doesn’t need to steal men to make her happy. So I’ll thank you to get off my property.”
Mrs. Ingram’s face went a startling shade of red. “This is absurd. Blanche honey, let’s go. Jonathan.”
With the round clearly going to Ms. Catherine, the world crashed back in.
“I’m not leaving until that boy is arrested. He killed your son!” Drayton’s face was redder than Melvina’s as he pointed at me.
“I’d lay that more at your ex-wife’s door, Jonathan. She’s good at letting sons die, isn’t she?”
Everything stopped for a second time. I don’t think anyone even breathed, knowing Melvina had struck well below the belt.
Drayton sputtered, his wind gone. “But, I… Melvina, that boy…”
“Yes, that boy.” Melvina leveled a look at me that was a hundred percent bitch. “If you think he was involved, then call the police. This is beneath you. It’s beneath us all. And it’s clear she isn’t going to give you anything. Not that she ever did.” She smirked and turned away, pulling the still-shocked Blanche with her. “I cannot wait until I can see this horrible, filthy place bulldozed to the ground.”
Drayton ground his teeth. “This isn’t over, Catherine.”
“It’s been over for a long time, Jonathan.” Ms. Catherine suddenly seemed older again. “Just accept it.”
He glared at her for a moment longer, then swung his eyes to me before storming out. The hatred in them just slid over me. It was a look I’d seen too many times before to care.
When their car pulled out, Ms. Catherine heaved a huge sigh. “God, I hate that man. I can’t believe I ever married him.”
Ginny gave a harsh laugh. “I’ve definitely wondered about that a few times.”
Ms. Catherine shook her head. “Believe it or not, he was charming, once upon a time. It didn’t last, though. Clearly.”
Nobody said anything about Mrs. Ingram.
The Charleston County Sheriff’s Office sent a deputy later, and thanks to Drayton, I spent an hour with him going over every moment of yesterday. Again. I reminded the deputy they’d seen me that morning to deal with the shredding of my jacket. They dragged Ginny in to get her side, since she was my alibi, and got Alix and Hanna’s numbers from her. They even got the name and number of the bike shop and asked for the receipt. Ms. Catherine photocopied it for her records and then handed it over to the deputy with a glare.
The deputy left with what I hoped was a clear picture of my innocence.
As soon as he was gone, Ginny grabbed my hand and pulled me off the couch. “Come on, sugar. I’m taking you out to lunch.”
I didn’t argue, and neither did Ms. Catherine. With the crime scene techs still crawling over the pool house, I think she was happy to not have Ginny around.
The fog was still heavy across the island, so we took the Jeep again. She drove us into town, to one of the island’s small, friendly restaurants. We ate spicy catfish and black bean soup and chased it down with pecan pie and sweet tea, all while trying to distract each other. Our hearts weren’t really in it, though. As awful as Brandon had been, he hadn’t deserved to die like that. And every time I looked at Ginny, I could see her fighting memories she didn’t want to deal with. She was good, but I’d seen through the mask.
So we talked about anything else until our avoidance bordered on absurdity.
When it became clear we couldn’t really waste any more time, we left. The bell on the door rang softly as we walked out into the fog. I reached for Ginny’s car door just as a shape appeared from behind the rear of her Jeep.
She recognized him first.
“Fuck it, Rafe, what the hell? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
I didn’t let go of her hand, even though I could see Rafe’s eyes flicker over it. Mine glanced to the arm that was still in a sling.
“I just wanted to pass on my regrets for yesterday. Tragic, really.”
He didn’t look at Ginny; he looked at me. I stared back at him.
Ginny took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “Thanks. Now, if you don’t mind, we need to get back.”
He didn’t move. “I was hoping—”
She spun around to me, interrupting him. “Evan, honey, can you give us a minute?”
I glared at Rafe and nodded. “I’m here if you need me.”
She kissed me quickly on the corner of the mouth and turned back to Rafe, pushing him out past the cars.
I strained to listen.
“…not stable. Need to tell…”
“No! …wasn’t him.”
“…capable of.”
“…back off. Go home, Rafe.” The last bit was plenty loud enough to hear, and Ginny punctuated it by storming back to me. “Come on, Evan, honey. Let’s go.”
We drove back in silence. I didn’t push her, and she didn’t speak. And when we pulled in, she just yanked the key out of the ignition and walked away. I stood in the garage and let her go.
I tried to put together everything I knew. Whoever was behind everything, they had to know Ginny. Or maybe it wasn’t just one person. The Ingrams wanted Eyre House. What if they were involved? Brandon was stupidly obsessed with Ginny, but there’s no way he was smart enough to pull off most of this stuff, even if he’d had access to sneak around the house. And since he was dead now, if he’d been involved in it, he had to have had a partner…
My head spun with possibilities. I needed to shut up and let the police handle it. But what if they couldn’t, because I hadn’t told them everything?
My brain was about to overload. I couldn’t help. There wasn’t anything to help with. Ginny didn’t want my help—she just wanted me to distract her. On and on and on my thoughts swirled and twisted, until I stopped and turned to the one thing that had been my sanity for years.
My Indian.
“What. The actual. Fuck.”
My hands shook as the blood rushed from my head. All I could do was stare. I wanted to scream. I wanted to fall on the ground and cry. Mostly, I wanted to murder someone.
Bolts and pipes lay cast off around where my bike stood in the corner, a gaping hole in the engine. It looked like someone had ripped out the Indian’s heart, and it had bled pieces across the concrete.
“This cannot be happening. It can’t. What the fuck?”
I finally got my feet to move. Up close, the damage was even worse. A year and a half. I’d poured every cent I had and every bit of spare time into rebuilding this bike. It almost broke me to see it like this.
My heart stopped when I saw what was behind it.
Scrawled on the wall in the dripping oil from my bike were two words.
Last warning.
I stared
at the message and at my bike as the blood pounded in my head. Like hell I would. I was done. I wasn’t leaving Ginny’s side again until they caught whoever this fucking psycho was, and I didn’t care what she thought about it either.
No way in hell this asshole was gonna mess with my bike and get his own way.
“Evan?”
I spun on my heel at the sound of Ginny’s voice. She stood behind me, looking confused and holding a hunk of metal in her hands. It took me a minute to realize it was a part to my bike.
“I found this in my room…”
Her eyes flickered from me to my bike to the oily writing on the wall.
“Lord today. Evan, I—”
“Ginny. What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?” I didn’t care about the rage in my voice.
Her eyes stayed on the wall behind my bike. She just stood there, frozen. I crossed the few steps between us and grabbed her arms, shaking her just a little.
“Ginny!”
She slowly brought her focus back to me. Her hands still wrapped around the engine part she held. And when she finally answered, it was in a quiet voice I’d never heard before.
“I don’t know, Evan.”
Ginny flipped through the mail with a bored expression while I twisted the last bolt on the Indian. It had taken me four days and three new parts special ordered with overnight shipping to fix it. Ginny’d either stuck with me or with her mother the whole time. I was glad, but I was also pretty sure she was about to blow a gasket or two of her own, just from sheer boredom.
“You know, you have a grease smear on your face, sugar.”
I laughed. “I’m pretty sure I have a few of them.”
“Nope. Just that one.”
“Well, if you toss me that towel, I’ll wipe it off.”
“I think I like it. So no, I won’t.”
“Tease.”
She grinned as I stood up.
“Let’s see if she starts.”
I said a quick prayer, straddled the bike, and stomped on the ignition. The rumble of the engine catching was music to my ears.
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