Who Do You Love?

by Maggie Shayne

  She looked at him. He looked back at her, all traces of amusement gone from his face. Only astonishment stood there now.

  “I’ll understand if…when this is over, if you decide you…well, you… I’m not gonna to hold you—”

  “Gracie?”

  “Hmm?”

  He smiled slightly, came closer and cupped her cheek in his hand. “Can you do that thing you just did…to the door?”

  “Of course I can. And I can do it to Paulo’s head, as well.” She turned, focused on the door, began to move, but Jack’s hands on her shoulders stopped her.

  “Not just yet, hon. Let’s wait until we know Hope is safe.”

  She nodded at him. “You’re right. And even when we hear Benny leave with her, she won’t be safe. Not really. Paulo could call Benny on that cell phone and order him to kill her the minute he suspects we’re up to anything.”

  “Then we’ll just wait for Benny to get back. Then we’ll know Hope is out of range.” Jack put out a hand, and when she took it, he tugged her to the back of the small room, and down to the floor to sit beside him. “Might as well get comfortable, hon. It could be a while.”

  Chapter 10

  “Well, as long as we’re here…with nothing to do but wait,” Grace said softly, “maybe it’s time we talked about…our marriage.”

  Jack didn’t want to talk to her about their marriage. Hell, he was scared to death to talk to her about their marriage, because he didn’t want to hear her tell him she was having second thoughts about continuing with it. But what choice did he have? Besides, maybe he didn’t actually need to be as worried as he had been. His wife obviously wasn’t the delicate flower Jack believed her to be.

  “What about our marriage?” he managed to ask, sounding about as intelligent as day-old bread, he figured.

  They had flicked off the flashlight to save the juice. And just a few moments ago they had heard Benny drive off with Hope. But they still had no idea when or if he’d be back. There was probably nothing to do but talk.

  “I don’t know.” She sat beside Jack, her back against the wall, her shoulder pressed to his. “Tell me something, Jack, have you been…happy with the way this whole thing has been going so far? I mean…happy with me?”

  “Of course I’ve been happy!” He answered too fast, he knew he did. And he felt Grace shaking her head.

  “No, you’re just giving me the automatic response, the answer you think I want to hear. But I don’t. I want the truth. I want you to think about it first. Have you been happy, keeping so many secrets? Thinking I was so shallow and so arrogant that I’d stop loving you if I knew you weren’t a rich prep-school grad with a six-figure income?”

  He turned his head toward her. “I never thought that.”

  “No?” She sounded so doubtful.

  “No. Not…not exactly. It was more I thought you were too delicate to handle the truth. That it would disgust you to know the kind of violent world I lived in. The filth I wallowed in every day.”

  Grace sighed deeply, reached forward to pick something up, and then placed it in his hand. A piece of the board she’d broken in two. Then she said, “Does this look delicate to you?”

  “Depends,” Jack said. “How’s your foot?”

  He could hear the slight smile in her voice when she replied, “Not even a twinge.” Then she took the piece of wood from him and tossed it. “I suppose it’s my fault you thought of me that way, though. At least partly.”

  “Partly? More like one hundred and ten percent.”

  “No way, Jack. I’m only half to blame for this mess. I may have been playing a role, but only because I thought that was the kind of woman you wanted. And I wasn’t playing…not really. I was trying to be that woman.”

  Jack sighed softly. “And just how did you get the idea I wanted you to be anything but what you were? Hmm?”

  She reached out to take his hand. “Mother made me dress the part, and act the part, and become the part the night of my party. She said no decent man would ever look at me twice in my jeans and T-shirts, my hair hanging loose and my face usually dirty.”

  “But you didn’t believe her?” Jack said.

  “Sure I did, I just didn’t care. I’d never been looked at twice by the kind of men my mother wanted for me. I liked it that way.”

  “So then why did you go along with her that night?”

  She leaned a little closer. “It was a big night for her. It meant a lot to her. I thought it couldn’t do any harm to do it her way. My mother’s done a lot for me, and it wasn’t so much to ask really.” Her hand slid over the back of Jack’s fingers, lacing from behind. “Then I met you, and all of a sudden…”

  “All of a sudden…?”

  “It mattered. I cared. I wanted to be the kind of woman a man like you could…care for. And I was glad I’d gone along with my mother’s plan, because you…you responded.”

  “And you naturally assumed that what I was responding to was the dress? The hair? The makeup?”

  “What else?” she asked softly. “You couldn’t even see the real Gracie under all the gilt.”

  “Maybe I could,” he told her. “I don’t even remember what you were wearing that night, Grace.”

  “No?”

  “No. I remember the sound of your laugh. The way you felt in my arms when I stole that kiss in the garden. I remember the way your smile made my heart spin in circles and fall over like a cartoon character who’s just had an anvil dropped on his head.”

  She lowered her head a little bit. “We kind of…got off the subject, didn’t we?”

  “I don’t think so. You asked if I’d been happy. I have. Being with you, being able to come home to you every night…that made me happy.”

  “Having to lie about where you’d been, living with the constant fear that I’d find out and stop loving you? Did that make you happy? Planning to give up a career you obviously love so that you could be something you aren’t, and being afraid to make love to your own wife? How could you sit there and say you were happy with that?”

  Jack opened his mouth. Closed it again, and tried to swallow. But he couldn’t.

  “I’ll tell you right now, Jack, I haven’t been. I haven’t been at all. I almost stopped going to the gym altogether, I quit my martial arts classes, and I tried to be the perfect little socialite wife, but it’s not me. I’m tired of keeping all my trophies hidden under the bed, and I’m tired of these stupid dresses and suits all the time. I want my jeans. I want to pop open a beer and eat junk food and watch a New York Liberty game on TV in my sweats and a ponytail. And—well, I was afraid to say this before. Afraid you’d think it was…unladylike and crude…but we can’t go on like we’ve been, Jack. We’re going to fall apart if we try. So here it is, straight up and undiluted. I want sex.”

  Jack didn’t think he could talk, but for some reason his mouth was moving and words were coming out, anyway. “But…we have sex.”

  “We make love, Jack, and I’m not even sure there’s enough feeling involved to call it that. You’ve been doling it out with an eye dropper, and so damned gently I barely know I’ve been touched when we finish. That’s not sex. I don’t know what the hell it is, but it’s not sex.”

  Jack sat there, cut to the bone. “I—I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” she said, and she turned toward him, laid her palm on his cheek. “I thought you must have some wild lover who was leaving you too worn out for me, Jack, but it wasn’t that, was it? It was that you were thinking I was too damned delicate to touch the way you wanted to. That you’d shock me or scare me or hurt me if you loved me the way you wanted to…. Unless…it was just that you didn’t…want to…at all.”

  Jack slid his good arm around her waist and pulled her hard to his chest. “Don’t think that, Gracie. Don’t ever think that. Because it couldn’t be further from the truth.” And then he kissed her. And for the first time, he let himself forget who she was, and what she was…and to just feel the woman in h
is arms. Nothing else. Woman. And man. And good old-fashioned lust.

  Her heart pounded hard as his tongue delved deep into her mouth, licking and tasting every bit of her, like an invasion, but one she wanted. One she’d asked for.

  When he lifted his head, she lifted her hands, and Jack heard the zip of her warm-up slide down. Heard her take it off. Then there was more rustling, and he couldn’t believe she was doing this…undressing, in this dark, dirty room…for him. He could feel soft skin, warm wherever she brushed against him now, and it drove him crazy. But then her hands were on him, sliding over his chest, curling around his shoulders. And her lips were on him, following the path her hands set on fire. Warm and wet, but doing not one damn thing to extinguish the flame.

  His hands slid down the length of her spine, closed over her buttocks, and he almost exploded when he found them bare. She’d taken off every stitch. And the floor in here was dirty, and she didn’t seem to care. She pulled him on top of her as they kissed, cradled him between her legs, and moved against him. He still had his jeans on, but she wasn’t waiting. And slow, tender foreplay didn’t seem to be what she had in mind, either. Not when her hands slid between them to tug at the button fly of his jeans. Not when she shoved them down over his hips, underwear and all, and dug her fingernails into his flanks as she pulled him to her.

  He entered her, hard and fast, and she didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead she arched against him, held him to her. There was no way to be gentle with her when she was like this. Each time he pulled back, she clamped her hot little hands hard on his backside and jerked him deep inside her again. And pretty soon she didn’t have to, because he was gone, over the edge, thrusting into her with everything he had. She panted, whimpered, cried, moaned his name, kept saying, “Yes, yes, oh, yes.” Those sounds in his ear, breath on his skin…his mind spun out of control as he drove into her. He didn’t think. He didn’t plan. He just felt and acted on those feelings. His mouth captured her small breast, and he tugged and worried its distended peak as the pace of their frantic coupling increased. And he bit down when he finally spilled the essence of himself into her, and he felt her shuddering release, the way she pulled against his teeth, the fierce bite of her nails and the convulsing of her body milking his. One ecstatic moment that stretched out endlessly…until finally his body was spent and he melted into a puddle of sated, drained flesh. Sliding to the side, he pulled her with him, keeping her anchored tight and close. Sweat coated his skin, and hers, as well. And she was breathless and limp as she burrowed closer to him.

  “Better?” he asked after a long moment.

  “Now that’s what I call sex,” she murmured, pressing her mouth to his chest one more time.

  “If you only knew how hard it’s been for me to hold back…but I thought…I thought I had to.”

  “You thought wrong. I think we both did, about a lot of things. But just so we’re clear on this, Jack, I’m not gonna stop loving you because you’re a cop.”

  “Yeah, well, I won’t be a cop much longer. But just for the record, I’m not gonna stop loving you because you’re a jock.”

  She sighed. “That remains to be seen,” she said softly.

  “Now what is that supposed to mean?”

  “Shh! Listen!”

  They both heard it. The sound of the engine, distant, but there. Benny had returned. Jack quickly righted his clothes and made his way to the door, pressing his ear to it to listen. In a few moments he heard voices, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Still, they were clearly male voices. He didn’t hear Hope at all.

  “Benny’s back. I don’t think Hope is with him,” Jack said.

  “Then it’s time.” He could hear Grace putting on her clothes, tugging up the zipper.

  “Yeah. It’s time.”

  A second later she was beside him, running a hand along the surface of the door, probably deciding exactly where to plant her killer foot.

  But before she could do much more, they heard the men approaching from outside, and then the snap of the padlock. They both moved back, away from the door as it opened and the slice of light widened. Benny and Paulo stood there, looking from one of them to the other. “What the hell happened to you two?”

  Jack looked at Grace, and she looked at him. She had black smears on her cheeks, her neck, in her hair. He glanced down at his hands and saw that they, too, were stained dark. Glancing at the floor now he saw that it was stained black. Old grease, motor oil and God knew what else had been soaking the concrete for years. It got on Jack’s hands, and from there, pretty much all over his wife’s body. He shuddered to think how many smears and streaks he’d painted across her skin. It was almost as if the fates were mocking him for thinking, even for a moment, that he could truly be with a woman such as Grace and not soil her with the filth that had already stained his soul. He was contaminating her. And she would realize that, too, and be repulsed….

  Then he heard a soft sound, and dragged his gaze upward to meet hers. And he realized with a shock that she was battling laughter. Looking down at her own hands and forearms, and then at Jack’s, she smiled and choked on a chortle.

  “Wait a minute,” Benny began. “Did you two—”

  “Is my sister safe?” Grace cut in. “Did you get her to a hospital like you said you would?”

  “Yeah. Dropped her at Memorial. Even stayed until she got through the doors. But back to this other thing…” He looked at them, looked at his boss. “I thought she said she was married.”

  “She did,” Paulo said grimly. “To a cop.”

  “Man, he’s not gonna like this, is he?”

  “You freaking moron!” Paulo pointed his gun at Jack. “So, you’re a cop. If you’d said so in the first place, it would have saved us all a lot of trouble.” He shook his head slowly. “One hostage is all I wanted to deal with, anyway.”

  “Jeez, Paulo, you’re gonna shoot him? A cop?” Benny asked, sounding nervous as hell.

  “What do you think I’m gonna do, let him go? Or keep him here so he can pull something that gets you and me killed?”

  “Oh, he’s not gonna pull anything,” Gracie said. “I’m the one you’d better worry about.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Benny smiled from ear to ear. “Isn’t that cute, Paulo? She said—”

  He stopped speaking when Grace’s foot landed, knocking Paulo’s gun flying across the room, and at the same instant, Jack’s fist slammed into Benny’s smiling face. Benny went down, but Paulo tried to hit back. Jack lunged forward, intending to protect his wife, but he couldn’t get that close without risking his own hide. The woman was moving so damned fast, delivering rapid-fire kicks and a couple of blows with her hands, backing Paulo up across the floor until he was to the wall. He never landed a punch. Then she flipped him, and he hit the floor.

  She looked up at Jack. “Will you stop gaping and grab their guns?” Paulo sat up. She kicked him right back down again.

  Jack spotted his gun on the floor and grabbed it. He pointed it at Benny. “Come on, toss the weapon out.”

  Benny did. Jack glanced back at Paulo, but he wasn’t getting up again. “It’s okay, Grace, let him up. We’ll toss them in the parts room for safekeeping.” Grace lowered her boxer’s stance hands and stepped back. Paulo got up, and she walked behind him, ready to strike. Jack just watched her, shaking his head. Kickboxing champion, Jack thought, smiling. Imagine that.

  Chapter 11

  “I can’t believe it. I just freaking can’t believe it.” Jack sat on the sofa in his old apartment. One last time, and this time he’d told Grace where he was going. He and some of the guys from the department had gathered here to watch some sports and eat some junk food—sort of a going-away party. His retirement would be official at the end of next week.

  Anyway, JW had somehow got his hands on a videotaped college basketball game—and Jack sat there watching his delicate little wife mop up the floor with most of the other players. “Bench warmer” was not quite the term he wou
ld have used. He watched her post up like a pro, watched her drive to the basket to sink a reverse layup without even looking, watched her sink a three at the buzzer to win the game. And he sat there and he shook his head.

  “Oh, man, where did you get that?” her voice said.

  Jack turned around, startled out of his wits. He’d never wanted Gracie to see this shabby little place. But there she was, big as life, two large white boxes balanced on one hand. “Hi, hon,” she said with a smile. “I brought the pizza.”

  “Pepperoni and mushroom?” JW asked.

  “As per your request.”

  “All right!” one of the guys yelled, and he took the boxes from her to set them on the table, while JW popped the top on a can of Budweiser and handed it to Grace.

  “How’s your sister doing?” JW asked as Grace sipped from the can.

  “They’re letting her come home today. She’s almost back to one hundred percent.”

  “Oh, man, that’s great.”

  “Wait a minute…wait a minute,” Jack said. “You guys knew she was coming?”

  “Well sure. We invited her.”

  “But…but…”

  “Jack, shut up and listen for a minute,” JW said. He shoved Jack into a well-worn easy chair and handed him a slice of pizza. “Now, I know you never wanted your wife to see the way you used to live. And I know why, but I think you’ve been selling her way short. So I called her and asked her to come. ’Cause she’s got a few things she wants to say to you.” Then he waved an arm. “Gracie?”

  Smiling, Grace took another swig of the beer, set it down, and then came to take the seat beside Jack. “You love being a cop. Admit it.”

  Jack shook his head. “It’s just a job, Grace. I’ll be just as happy—”

  “You’re a liar. I want you doing what you love, not what you think is socially acceptable. JW and I had a long talk, Jack. I know all sorts of things about you that I didn’t know before. I know about all the commendations, and about all the war stories, and the good you’ve done. And I’m not prepared to let you give that up for me.”