BlackJack (A Standish Bay Romance Book 1)

by Donovan, Christine

  He couldn’t go on like this. AJ couldn’t go on living a lie, living in hell on earth. The guilt, the pain, the realization of the unimaginable. He found himself perched tenuously at the edge of a stone cliff, and the stones and dirt were giving way beneath his feet. Did he dive to the ground and save himself? Or throw himself off the cliff into the raging river below and end his torture?

  What would happen to his wife, Elizabeth and his children? He moaned louder and louder as his insides twisted in silent agony for the pain and shame this would cause them. Oh God. He managed to rise up off the floor and stumble to his bed. He’d not eaten in so long. The lining of his stomach was in the toilet, and he was so weak he collapsed onto the bed. “Please God.” he mumbled. “Let me die. Let me die. It’s what ah deserve. Please take my life.”

  When AJ woke and saw the sun the next morning, he cursed out at God as his heart pierced with pain. “Why didn’t ye take me?” he yelled out as he fell to his knees and pleaded with God once again.

  “Ah dinnae deserve tae live, tae breathe.

  Ah dinnae deserve tae see the sun, or the moon, or the stars.

  Why dinnae ye take me?”

  ***

  Cameron had trouble sleeping on the bus after Amber asked him to have sex with her. On the bus, was she serious? He couldn’t do it on the bus, and to her disappointment he told her so. But he’d also mentioned getting off at the next stop and renting a motel room for a day or two. He still didn’t feel all that great and needed—no wanted solid ground beneath his feet.

  So here they stood in front of a rundown roadside motel in the middle of nowhere. The only other building in sight was a roadside café with its parking lot jam packed with eighteen wheelers. Besides that there wasn’t anything around but miles and miles of mundane blacktop twisting and turning with beautiful mountains all around them. He had to admit, the mountains took his breath away.

  His stomach still felt like shit from being sick, and now it also ached with nervousness. He’d never actually rented a motel room before and didn’t know what to expect. He hoped he didn’t have to show a license or something because all he had on him was his school ID.

  The door to the office squeaked when he opened it, and he stepped inside and found himself facing an ancient lady with wrinkled skin. She wore the ugliest purple dress, or bathrobe, he’d ever seen and purple fuzzy slippers. Her eyes were glued to the television and she never heard him enter. He cleared his throat.

  “Excuse me.”

  “Rooms are sixty dollars a night. Cash only.” And still she didn’t look at him.

  “Okay, I’ll take one for two nights.” He slid the exact amount over the dirty, sticky counter, and still she didn’t look at him.

  “Room four. Sign the register and if you break anything you pay for it.”

  Cameron scribbled his name on the register, and then realized too late he’d signed his real name. Good going moron, you’re supposed to be incognito.

  Before the lady looked at him, he grabbed the key and left. He signaled Amber and held up four fingers then pointed toward the room.

  After they were inside, Cameron lay on the bed looking around and became nervous as hell because, oh shit, he was on the only bed in the room. While Amber took a shower, he curled up on his side and was nearly asleep when she came out of the bathroom. He swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes followed her across the room. Amber’s died black hair hung long and dripping wet. The T-shirt she wore clung to every curve and Cameron felt himself harden as he stared at the puckered nipples straining against the thin cotton. His heart began to pound as his eyes roamed lower to where the shirt barely covered her ... his breath came faster as he glimpsed her curly pubic hairs.

  Christ. He’d never seen a naked girl, except of course in dirty magazines and some “R” rated movies, but never up close and in person, and how humiliated he felt suddenly for still being a virgin.

  “I...um...I’m going to shower.” He slid off the bed, grabbed his backpack and locked himself in the bathroom. Before he got in the shower he sat on the closed toilet seat and willed his pulse to slow down. Once it had, he stepped in the shower and paid meticulous attention, soaping up every speck of his body. After he washed his hair, dried off, threw on shorts, he brushed his teeth and placed his shaky hand on the doorknob. Shit! He was about to have sex for the first time and he felt like throwing up. Not good Cameron, not good at all. He released the knob, went to the sink and splashed cold water on his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The person staring back at him was someone he saw all the time, yet something appeared different. He looked different. He shook it off and before he chickened out and curled up on the bathroom floor for the night, he opened the door and found Amber sitting up in bed watching television. Maybe he was wrong and she didn’t want sex after all? He didn’t honesty know if he felt relieved or disappointed. As he walked toward the bed, his knees wobbled and his heart hammered triple time inside his chest.

  He nonchalantly, and boy was that hard to pull off, stretched out on the bed, flat on his back, his arms behind his head and he asked, “Anything good on?” Like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Amber replied, “Soap Operas and talk shows. What’s your poison?”

  “Whatever, I’m going to sleep anyway.”

  Amber scooted closer to his body and snuggled against him, one leg thrown over his legs, and he hardened instantly as he felt her warm vagina make contact with his thigh.

  “Amber?” Christ he sounded nervous.

  “Hmm,” she mumbled.

  Cameron took a deep breath and blurted it out before he lost his courage. “I’ve never done this before.”

  She raised her body and looked at him with a smile curving her lips, and he felt his face burn up.

  “Sex, are you telling me you’ve never had sex?” she asked, her expression one of surprise.

  His stomach knotted and then dropped as he shook his head.

  “Oral sex,” she questioned.

  Again he shook his head and suddenly felt so out of the loop. Most of his friends had had sex already and it wasn’t as though Cameron hadn’t wanted to, he just never had the opportunity to—until now.

  He knew oral sex was like, the thing to do these days. He’d heard about these parties where the guys line up and the girls go down the line giving blow jobs. It was called a train or something like that. He’d always been too busy with his schoolwork, his music and shuffling between his mom’s house and his dad’s to go. But now he wished he’d been to one of those parties so he’d, like, have some experience.

  “We need a condom,” she blurted out as she rolled off the bed. Cameron sucked in his breath as he got a good look at her naked butt when her shirt rode up to her waist. He gawked as his pulse roared. Amber fished inside her bag, turned to him holding up a foil-wrapped condom with a shy smile plastered across her pretty face.

  “We have one. Actually, I have a whole box.”

  Cameron physically felt his blood pumping through his body and settling in his dick as she climbed back onto the bed, onto her knees and peeled off her shirt. Christ, she was stacked was all he could think about as he reached out with his trembling hands and cupped her heavy breasts.

  For the rest of the afternoon, Amber proceeded to show Cameron just what he’d been missing. And by the day’s end, there wasn’t much in the way of sex, oral or otherwise, Cameron hadn’t experienced firsthand.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Shannon awoke in the morning to her house phone ringing. She dove off the bed, not wanting to miss the call. Her heart pounded in hopes it was Cameron as she pushed the talk button on the fourth ring.

  “Good morning,” she said as she held her breath.

  “Good morning to you.”

  “Cole,” she breathed out and her heart fluttered even faster. “Hi, you got my message?”

  “Yes. Is something wrong? You sounded extremely anxious on the voice mail. I would have called last nigh
t but it was late when I realized I had a message.”

  The concern she heard in his voice warmed her heart, even if it was broken at the moment. “Cameron ran away.”

  “What?” Cole responded loudly into her ear.

  “He ran away four days ago. I think he might be heading to California to find you.”

  “But I’m in Chicago.”

  “Oh.” She had hoped he might be home even though she’d known the chances were slim to none he would be. Hell, he was on tour. What did she expect?

  “I leave for Detroit day after tomorrow, but I’ll cancel and go try to find him.”

  The man’s unselfishness never ceased to amaze her. His career was just getting back on track and he was willing to cancel a concert engagement for her and her son. She’d never loved him more she mused as tears escaped her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

  “No, don’t do that. I just need your address so I can send the detective I hired to stake out your house in hopes he’ll show up.”

  “It’s 1210 Malibu Road. Are you sure about not needing me to go there?”

  “Yes. Cole?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I’m scared. I want my son back.” She sniffled and wiped the tears from her cheeks with her free hand. “I miss him, and I keeping thinking up all these horrendous things happening to him. Oh God.” She sobbed into the phone. “I’m so afraid for him. I’m so afraid I’ll never see him again.”

  “I’ll be at your house in two days. I can’t bear not being with you when you’re hurting like this. I’d hop the next plane, but it’s too late to cancel tonight and tomorrow’s concerts.”

  “You don’t have to cancel any shows on my account?”

  “Detroit can wait. We’ll reschedule. Then we’ll take one day at a time.”

  She promised herself she wouldn’t cry on the phone, but she did. He tried to soothe her with words, but they drowned in the sea of her sorrow. After a time she spoke, “Thanks and Cole?”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  “Me too. I’ll see you soon, and if you hear anything promise me you’ll call.”

  “I promise.”

  Shannon hung up the phone and hugged herself. Soon Cole would be here to hold her, to make her feel better and tell her everything would be okay. He would cancel concerts to be with her. Her lips curved into a smile even as tears blurred her vision. She never thought anyone would care enough about her to do something like that.

  Since she was up and no longer tired, she decided to shower and call Scott Danvers in hopes he had good news.

  “Scott, it’s Shannon, anything new,” she asked around the lump in her throat.

  “Were your ears buzzing? I was just about to call you. I spoke with a bus driver for Greyhound and he remembers Cameron.” Shannon heard him pause and drink something, probably coffee. “He said Cameron exited the bus with a girl, and they never came back on. The good news is he remembers the approximate vicinity of where they disembarked. I’m heading out the door now to Colorado then following the bus schedule for yesterday.”

  Shannon took a deep breath, trying hard not to get her hopes up. But how could she not? “That’s really good news. Call me as soon as you know anything. Okay?”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Shannon collapsed with relief when the conversation ended. They were close. “Oh please God,” she prayed out loud, “let my baby come home safe and unharmed.”

  When she entered her kitchen a few minutes later, she found John at the stove making scrambled eggs. This was the second night he’d slept here, and the second morning in a row he made breakfast. He wore his two-day-old wrinkled clothes, but was freshly showered because his dark hair glistened wet and she could smell the body wash Cameron always used. It caused a piercing pain to her heart, and then she remembered her news.

  She explained to John everything Danvers had said as she ate eggs, toast and coffee. It was the first time she’d eaten hungrily in days, and it felt good putting something substantial in her stomach. Not long after they finished the conversation, Mitch entered the kitchen.

  “What smells so good?”

  “Eggs,” John replied. “Sit and I’ll dish ya out,” he said as he grabbed a plate out of the cabinet.

  Shannon proceeded to fill her brother in on the news, and he was visibly relieved to have some hope.

  “And oh, Cole’s coming day after tomorrow.” She paused and glanced at John, daring him to say anything negative, but he kept his mouth shut tight. “He’s canceling two shows to be here.”

  John looked up from his plate of eggs. “That’s nice of him,” he said so nonchalantly, causing Shannon to nearly fall off her chair in shock.

  “You don’t mind?”

  “I said I was wrong to try and tell you how to live your life.”

  Reaching across the table, she took his hand in hers. John glanced down at their joined hands and then at her. Was she crazy or did he look longingly at her. How odd. She must be mistaken or more tired than she thought.

  “Thanks,” she murmured as she pulled her hand away to begin cleaning up from breakfast as John and Mitch talked and drank their second cups of coffee.

  ***

  Once John finished his coffee, he decided it was high time he went home to his family and checked in with work to see if anyone there had any leads on Cameron. Also, there lay a thick envelope sitting on his desk, an envelope that contained everything he wanted to know about the Cole Jackson trial, and today seemed as good a day as any to bury himself in it. It would also take his mind off of his missing son.

  A while back he’d pulled several favors and got the police and coroner’s report as well as the court transcripts in the Jackson case. Now, he sat at his desk in his locked office and spent the next several hours going over everything with a fine tooth comb.

  He started with the autopsy, scanning to the actual findings. Mrs. Jackson had bruising on both wrists indicating a possible struggle and one stab wound directly to the heart. There was no sign of rape or sexual assault. What surprised him the most was there was absolutely no physical evidence linking Jackson to his wife’s death other than the fact he was covered in her blood. Which in court could be argued off any number of ways by a good attorney, and Jackson had hired the best.

  During Jackson’s police investigation he swore his innocence, never once wavering from his original story. He was eventually indicted by a Grand Jury. Never once was he offered a plea bargain.

  The trial, in John’s opinion was a farce. The prosecution knew about the weaknesses in their case so they attacked Jackson’s character and lifestyle any way they could. Jackson’s attorney objected to everything he could and the judge overruled, but the damage had been done. The jury had been biased.

  There was no murder weapon.

  No witnesses.

  Did he really do it?

  Jackson never took the stand in his own defense. Sometimes that in itself was a sign of guilt, or he could have been protecting something or someone and didn’t want to perjure himself.

  Both the prosecution and defense’s closing arguments contained dramatic and potent information, but obviously the jury believed the prosecution. John thought, if there ever was a case in which the jury was prejudiced this was it. Clearly that had to be it. There was no evidence against Jackson to warrant a conviction. He also couldn’t believe an appeal was never granted. It was as though they made an example out of him.

  John truly believed in the judicial system. He had to. His job depended on it. But he knew guilty people often went free and unfortunately innocent people went to prison. In his opinion, even if Jackson did kill his wife, the prosecution had no case.

  Of course he still hated the bastard’s guts.

  ***

  Cameron awoke with a smile on his face and feeling odd, different and changed. He wondered why? He’d spent yesterday having sex, and he couldn’t even begin to count how many times. Amber was hot and sexy and oh
-so inventive. He wondered where she learned all of it?

  He’d been shy and tentative the first time and maybe the second, letting Amber take control, but after that he’d felt a surge of confidence and began leading, and it was a day he’d never forget. Nor would he ever forget Amber.

  She slept soundly beside him, lying on her stomach facing away from him, the covers riding low on her silky back. Her long hair was fanned out on the pillow, and he felt his body waking up. Instead of doing anything about it, he threw on his clothes and walked to the surprisingly busy diner. The parking lot once again overflowed with big-rigs. All he wanted was chocolate milk and a bagel. He ordered two of each.

  As he entered the room, she stirred on the bed. He placed the food on the night table and kissed the back of her neck. “Hey you.”

  “Hmm, hey yourself. Where’d you go?”

  “The diner and I brought food.”

  Rolling over, she sat up in the bed looking sleepy with her hair tangled all around her and she pointed toward the floor. “Could you pass me my shirt?”

  Cameron picked up her T-shirt, turned it right side out and handed it to her. He thought she seemed a little uncomfortable with him this morning. He certainly hoped not.

  He passed her the milk and bagel and sat next to her and ate his food in three bites. After not eating much for the past few days, he was starved.

  ***

  Amber ate her bagel silently, watching Cameron. She felt a little funny this morning after yesterday and last night. Not necessarily because of the sex, it had been fun and hot, but her stomach did a little flip when she remembered she told him she loved him. He hadn’t said anything, in fact, she didn’t even know if he heard her. God, she hoped he didn’t hear.

  She didn’t want him thinking she was one of those clingy girls who once they had sex with a boy thought it was love. Then they would follow the boy around even when he told them he didn’t like them anymore. He would be mean to them and they would beg him not to break up with them. They would do anything, did anything to keep him, and that anything turned out to be sex, when and where he wanted it.