Evening Hours

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  Cutler recoiled. “Obviously you never cared about her.”

  “That was a two-way street, sonny boy.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Not caring what you believe ranks right up there with not caring what you think.”

  “My mother isn’t that kind of woman.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Have you always been such a bastard?”

  “According to your mother. After all this time, I suppose she’s still claiming I took advantage of her.”

  “And you didn’t?” Cutler’s tone was low and harsh.

  “Hell, no. I didn’t rape her.”

  The mention of rape sent shock waves through Cutler’s entire body. Yet he continued to stand stonelike—except for his eyes. He could feel the venom shooting out of them.

  “She might have said no, but I could tell she wanted it.”

  Cutler’s throat shut down, rendering him speechless.

  “And did I ever give it to her.” Drew’s chuckle was derisive. “Real good, too.”

  Cutler moved with the speed of lightning. “You sorry piece of garbage.” His fists followed his words, flying out and smashing Drew in the face.

  Drew crumpled to the carpet. He was out cold.

  Cutler turned and walked out, taking with him the feel and sound of crunching bones.

  Kaylee didn’t know whether to laugh with giddiness or cry with bitterness.

  What she did know was that she had done the unthinkable. She had broken a lifelong promise to herself.

  She had let a man invade her heart.

  How had that happened? Perhaps there was no clear-cut answer. Perhaps it was one of those unplanned things, a quirk of fate.

  But the word unplanned had never been in her vocabulary. Until Cutler made his appearance.

  With his attraction and charm, he had managed to creep into her heart. Even now she couldn’t believe he’d made love to her. Equally mind-boggling, she’d loved him back, and she’d enjoyed every moment of it.

  Just thinking about the way he had dropped to his knees and kissed the scars on her stomach before working his lips and tongue back up to her mouth made her knees knock. Not only had he set her flesh on fire, but he had melted her frozen heart. That was dangerous stuff. Heady stuff.

  She hadn’t known a man’s touch could be so exhilarating. She hadn’t known what making love was all about, certainly not from bumbling, fumbling Kenny. While she had endured, it was an experience she hadn’t enjoyed.

  Not so with Cutler.

  She couldn’t seem to get enough of him. Nor he of her. After their burning passion for one another had been quenched, he had held her in his arms, making her feel so special, so beautiful, so normal.

  “God, I loved every second I was inside you,” he’d whispered against her neck while spooning her.

  She could barely hold back her tears. “Me, too.”

  “You’re so tight,” he added in a strained voice. “I was so afraid I was going to hurt you.”

  “You…didn’t.” She felt him turn hard again.

  He nipped her neck with his lips. “And you smell so good and taste so good.”

  She turned in his arms just in time to meet his hot, seeking lips. They kissed until both were gasping for breath.

  “God, I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered, his hands kneading one breast and then the other.

  “Oh, Cutler,” she’d moaned, especially when he’d eased her onto her back and had begun using his tongue to take her to new heights.

  A knock on the door jarred Kaylee back to earth.

  Licking her dry lips, she said, “It’s open.”

  Sandy walked in, only to pull up short, narrowing her eyes. “You okay?”

  “Of course,” Kaylee almost snapped. “Why?”

  “Sorry, you just looked flushed, like you might have a little fever.”

  She had better watch herself, Kaylee thought, feeling the flush on her face grow hotter. She couldn’t be wearing her heart on the outside for everyone to see. This thing with Cutler was just a passing fancy headed down a one-way street. So for her own self-protection, no one must ever know she’d been with him.

  The only excuse for her actions was to plead temporary insanity.

  “I thought maybe your leg might be bothering you.”

  Kaylee shook her head. “Uh, no more than usual. But thanks for caring.”

  “That goes without saying.” Sandy paused. “I know something’s up, so let’s hear it.”

  “Trouble.”

  Sandy’s face fell. “I’m not sure I want to hear it.”

  “Trust me, you don’t.”

  “Only, misery loves company.” Sandy smiled a weak smile.

  “You got it, friend,” Kaylee said. “So have a seat. It’s share time.”

  She told Sandy about the prescription drugs, leaving nothing out. When she finished, a heavy silence filled the room.

  “God, I can’t believe it.”

  “Me either,” Kaylee said, rubbing her temple.

  “We have to call the cops.” Sandy’s voice was a whisper.

  Kaylee raised her brows. “Why are you talking so low?”

  Sandy cleared her throat. “Didn’t realize I was.”

  “We’re alone, remember.”

  “Chalk it up to paranoia,” Sandy responded with a shrug. “So what do you propose?”

  “I know you’re right, and we probably should involve the cops, but—“

  “You’d rather handle it in-house.”

  “I’d like to try, anyway.”

  Sandy wrinkled her forehead. “That might be the best route, but it’s dicey.”

  “I know.”

  “What about asking your friend?”

  “What friend?”

  Sandy look slightly affronted. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No, why?”

  “You snapped at me.”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to.”

  “The D.A. What’s his name?”

  Kaylee schooled her features to show none of her churning emotions. “Cutler McFarland.”

  “Could you talk to him?”

  “Maybe later.” Kaylee reached for a pen and pad. “Meanwhile, let’s put our heads together and see what we can come up with.”

  Twenty-Five

  “Want to play some more, baby?”

  “No,” Drew said, slapping her on the butt. Hard.

  “Ouch! That hurt.”

  “I meant for it to. Now, do like you’re told and get the hell out of here.”

  “One of these days you’re going to get what’s coming to you.”

  “Good thing you’re out of range, or you’d get what’s coming to you.”

  The young girl’s face lost its color before she bounded up and out, slamming the door behind her.

  Drew let out a sigh of relief. Alone at last. He didn’t know why he fooled with one airheaded bimbette after another. There were plenty of classy women who would love to give him a piece of their ass. And more.

  It was the “and more” that scared the hell out of him. He’d had it with marriage. Two times down the old aisle was enough for him. As it was he already paid too much alimony—not that he couldn’t afford it. It was the fact that he was forced to do something against his will that he hated.

  He didn’t like tight corners.

  And Cutler McFarland had just backed him into one. He rubbed his jaw and flinched. No bastard hit him and got away with it. But Cutler had, and that was what galled him. That was why he’d banged that dizzy broad tonight. He’d been so full of rage, he’d wanted to take it out on someone.

  Only his ploy hadn’t worked. He was still mad enough to kill. After Cutler had knocked him flat on his back, he’d been addled for hours afterward. During that time, his rage had almost gotten the best of his better judgment.

  Charging after that bastard would have served no purpose. When it came to Cutler, he’d decided to bide his time. One
way or the other he’d get his pound of flesh. After all, he was in no hurry and didn’t have anything to lose.

  Cutler, on the other hand, was on a timetable and had lots to lose.

  Mary McFarland, however, had been a different matter. After he got his head back on straight and put ice on his jaw, he’d jumped in his vehicle and driven to her house, where he’d waited for hours, hoping to catch her alone.

  It never happened.

  Her husband hadn’t left her side all evening. Finally he’d driven home and immediately called the bimbette. Now, however, Drew felt his anger rise again along with numerous questions.

  Why now? Why did she tell Cutler the truth after all this time? What had happened to make her open herself up to his wrath? To add insult to injury, she had broken a promise she had sworn to keep.

  He’d get her for that, too.

  After walking to the mirror in his bathroom and peering into it, he muttered a curse. He was a mess. No wonder he’d caught strange looks and dodged endless questions from his friends. He was more than a mess, actually. He looked like a freak.

  One side of his face was a purplish-black, soon to be a greenish-yellow. He clutched both sides of the sink, giving in to another bout of rage that threatened to choke him.

  He couldn’t decide who was at the top of his ruin list—his son or his son’s mother.

  The second Cutler let himself in to his condo, he knew something was not right. Someone was there. When his nostrils got a whiff of perfume, he knew who that someone was. His stomach clenched with anger. But by the time he’d made his way into the living room and tossed his briefcase on the nearest chair, he had gotten his anger under control.

  “Surprise, surprise,” Julia Freeman said in her lilting voice, a huge smile on her face.

  In spite of her upbeat demeanor, however, Cutler noticed the wary look in her expressive brown eyes. It was obvious she wondered what kind of reception she’d receive. Well, she was right to question. He was more than a little pissed off to have an uninvited guest, especially this evening when he’d had the day from bloody hell.

  Who was he kidding? He’d had the week from bloody hell. Since he’d gone to see Drew, his world had soured. Nothing had gone right.

  Hence the last thing he wanted was the company of another person, even if she was an attractive lady with red hair and dainty features. Any man in his right mind would be proud to have her as a companion. And he had fit into that category until he’d met Kaylee.

  Ah, Kaylee. His heart gave a start, but as much as he’d love to think about her now, he couldn’t. He had to take care of the business at hand, and that was getting himself out of his present jam.

  “Say something,” Julia said in a pleading voice. “Please.”

  “Julia—”

  “I know it was presumptuous on my part to invade your space like this,” she interrupted in a hurried voice, “but I haven’t seen you in so long.” Julia paused and took an obvious breath as if she realized she was talking too fast and too much. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You could’ve called.” Cutler tried hard to keep his voice as gentle as possible and still get his point across. Dammit, that was what he got for letting her have a key. In retrospect, it had been a dumb-ass thing to do.

  “Would you have seen me? Tonight, that is?”

  He hesitated, hating to hurt her, but that was exactly what he was going to have to do.

  “Your hesitation says it all.” Julia’s voice was as glum as it was unsteady.

  “It’s been a hell of a day,” he said tersely, hating being put in this position—having to defend himself when he shouldn’t.

  “Aren’t they all.”

  The undercurrent of anger in her voice refueled his anger. “What do you want me to say?”

  “That you’re glad I’m here, that you’re glad I have dinner prepared and the table set with candles and wine.”

  He saw tears brimming in her eyes, making him feel more like a heel than ever.

  “Only, you’re not glad I’m here, are you?”

  “You want me to be honest?”

  Her chin jutted. “Absolutely.”

  “Then no, I’m not.”

  Her chin started to wobble. “I don’t know why I keep giving you the power to hurt me.”

  He crossed to her then and took both her hands in his. “Look at me.”

  She met his direct gaze.

  “I care a lot about you. You’ve been and still are a good friend.”

  Julia jerked her hands out of his and turned her back. He watched her clench and unclench her fingers.

  He gave her a few minutes, then said, “Please, Julia.”

  “It’s okay, Cutler. I’m not going to disintegrate on the spot because you don’t love me.”

  He was taken aback. “Love. Surely you—”

  “Don’t love you? Of course I do. I always have. The sad part about it is that you never cared enough to notice.”

  “That’s a low blow, and you know it.”

  “Do I?”

  “Look, Julia,” Cutler said, raking his hand through his hair, “it was never my intention to hurt you.”

  “I’ve heard that before.” Her tone was bitter.

  “Not from me, dammit.” He’d wanted to get through this brouhaha with as few recriminations as possible, but from the way things were going, that wasn’t in the cards.

  “I should go.”

  “Not this way, Julia. I value our friendship and I want it to continue.”

  She was quiet for a long time. “Is that all I’ll ever be to you, Cutler, a friend?”

  “That’s all.”

  She gave him a watery smile. “Then I guess I’ll have to accept that, won’t I?”

  “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. It was never my intention.”

  “I really do know that, though it’s hard for me to admit.”

  “I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

  “You won’t.” She smiled. “But you may have to give me some time to regroup.”

  “Take all the time you like.”

  She was quiet for another long moment, then asked, “Is there someone else?”

  His heart lurched. “What makes you ask that?”

  “I don’t know, actually. It’s just a woman thing, something we feel here.” She placed her hand on her chest, indicating her heart.

  Cutler blew out his breath, not knowing how to answer that. He’d always prided himself on never lying about his feelings for any woman.

  “There is someone, only—” He deliberately killed the remainder of the sentence, knowing he was close to stepping into shark-infested waters.

  “It’s okay, Cutler. It really is. I only want your happiness.”

  “God, Julia, you’re making me feel more like a heel than ever.”

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good man, Cutler McFarland, because you’re honest. Most men would have opted not to be so brutally honest.”

  He blanched at her blunt assessment of him, then said, “I’m not most men.”

  “Oh, don’t I know that.” Julia tempered her words with another genuine smile.

  “Something smells really good,” Cutler said with a lopsided smile.

  “Ah, so you noticed.”

  “Shall we make good use of your culinary skills?”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

  It wasn’t. But he wasn’t about to admit that. It wouldn’t kill him to sit down and have a decent meal. Once she was gone, he’d have time to resume his tormented thoughts. A respite might put things in perspective. Yeah, right, he told himself, smirking inwardly.

  “Some man’s going to get a jewel when he gets you.”

  Julia smiled as she poured the wine. “Thanks for saying that.”

  “The truth comes easy.” Once they were seated, he reached for his glass and held it up and out.

  Julia clicked his glass. “To friendship.”


  “To friendship,” he responded with heartfelt relief.

  Cutler awakened bathed in cold sweat.

  Sitting straight up on the sofa, he cut his eyes to the clock. Ten o’clock. Julia hadn’t been gone that long. Still, he must’ve just dozed off. Too bad the nightmare had awakened him. He could have used the sleep. Letting go of several expletives, he got up and trudged into his bathroom, where he splashed his face with water.

  He remembered now. He’d been dreaming about his altercation with Drew Rush. Again.

  It was in that moment that his stomach revolted. He barely managed to raise the lid on the toilet before he lost his entire dinner. After brushing his teeth, he made his way into his room and fell on the bed, feeling as though his body had been drained of all its vital ingredients.

  Yet he found it impossible to close his eyes again.

  Rape.

  His mother raped?

  No way.

  That couldn’t be.

  Not his mother, who was a pastor.

  Rush was full of shit.

  Had to be.

  Only, Cutler knew better. Gut deep he knew that his mother had indeed been raped by that vile man and that he was the product of that rape.

  His stomach heaved again and he thought for sure he’d have to make another run to the toilet. But following several deep breaths, his stomach settled and his head cleared.

  No wonder his mother had guarded the circumstances of his birth. Who could blame her? Certainly not him. How could a mother tell her son he’s the outcome of such a heinous act?

  She couldn’t.

  Unless she was forced. Yet how could he not force the issue? Rush needed to get his just deserts. For his mother’s sake.

  He made a vow to himself. No matter what it cost him, Drew Rush would be held accountable for his sins. Cutler would delight in being judge, juror and executioner.

  First, though, he had to protect Mary and her reputation. He couldn’t take a chance on Benton following through with his vow to expose his real father, dragging his mother’s name through the mud, if his demand wasn’t met.

  Desperate men did desperate things.

  And to his way of thinking, Edgar Benton was desperate.

  Because of that, Cutler could no longer put off the inevitable. He reached for the phone beside his bed and dialed the number.