Wicked Series Complete Box Set: An Erotic Thriller

by Parker, M. S.

  Everything else, however, would be a bit more difficult. Even if I had the will read now, the Lockwoods wouldn’t drop their suit because they’d gotten nothing. I felt the worst for Jasper though. The money he needed to quit his father’s practice and start the clinic he wanted was sitting right there. Allen would’ve given it to Jasper when he’d been alive if he’d thought for a moment that his friend would take it, and I was sure Allen had been working on a way to get it to him anyway. With Allen gone, Jasper would feel obligated to take it and do great things to honor his friend’s memory. The clinic would probably even be named the Allen Lockwood Clinic.

  Only now it was being held up because Allen’s family were a bunch of self-centered pricks who never thought about anyone other than themselves. Jasper may have known how to deal with them, but they didn’t like him, and they sure as hell weren’t going to agree to give him any of Allen’s trust.

  There was one other clause in the trust that I knew Mr. Henley had ignored. I knew it was there because Allen had told me about it years ago when it had become clear to us both that we were going to get married. A clause for our children.

  I knew Henley hadn’t said anything about it because it appeared to be a moot point. I resisted the urge to touch my stomach. I was late, but I knew that didn’t necessarily mean anything. With all the stress I’d been under and stopping my birth control, I would’ve been shocked if I hadn’t been late. It didn’t matter though. I was going straight from here to my doctor. I wasn’t even going to bother with a home pregnancy test. While they were usually accurate, I didn’t want a false positive. I couldn’t handle that.

  Once Henley and I were finished, we said our good-byes and he promised to keep me posted. He also promised to delay billing until my accounts were active again. Without that to worry about, I was able to focus all of my anxiety on the pregnancy test.

  I’d been going to Dr. Sanchez since I’d moved to St. Helena and she greeted me with a hug. As soon as I told her why I was there, however, she became all business. She drew my blood without making small talk and I was grateful to see no pity on her face. If I was pregnant, I was sure I’d have all of the pity I could handle.

  “I’ll send this to the lab and put a rush on it,” she said as she threw her gloves into the bin. “But you should know that it’s been backed up all week.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked as I pressed the cotton ball to my elbow.

  “It means that it could be close to a week before I get your results.” She hesitated and then added, “Or I could schedule an ultrasound for later today.”

  I shook my head. I swallowed hard and fought against the tears burning at my eyelids. I’d hoped to have my answer tomorrow at the latest. Twenty-four hours had been bearable, but anything more than that was going to feel like torture. Still, I'd rather wait than risk seeing something on an ultrasound when I hadn't decided what I was going to do. If I was pregnant and decided I didn't want to continue...I knew I'd never be able to terminate the pregnancy if I saw it, even if it did just look like a little blob of cells.

  She didn't ask why I didn't want the ultrasound and I was grateful. I didn't want to have to say any of it out loud.

  “I’ll try to push the test through as fast as I can,” she said. Her voice softened, but still held only sympathy. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I needed to get home, away from the public. I quickly finished up with the doctor and pushed the speed limit heading back to the house. When I got there, I already had half a dozen messages on the answering machine. I’d never understood why Allen kept a landline or the answering machine around, but I didn’t feel up to getting rid of it.

  Once I pressed play and May Lockwood’s grating voice came pouring out, I began to reconsider my position on keeping the machine. I didn’t listen to the words. I didn’t have to. I already knew them all by heart. Sure, there’d be some variation now that Allen was dead, but it all added up to the same thing. I was just some sneaky gold-digger who’d never been good enough for Allen and she was going to do everything in her power to make sure that I never saw a penny of his money.

  There were three from her and one from Marcus, all essentially saying the same thing. As much as I tried to not hear them, it was hard not taking things to heart, especially with how frayed my emotions already were from the morning’s activities. By the time the last one had been deleted, all of the fight I’d had in my system when I’d visited Mr. Henley was gone.

  I didn’t even bother heading to the bedroom, but curled up on the couch and closed my eyes, hoping I’d be able to escape into sleep somehow.

  A pounding outside woke me up a few hours later. I was disoriented at first, trying to figure out where I was, but then it all came crashing back onto me. I shook my head, trying to clear it, and climbed off the couch. I frowned as the pounding continued. It wasn’t someone knocking at the door, but it still sounded familiar. I slipped on my shoes and followed the sound outside and around the house to where I found Jasper on the roof.

  “What are you doing?”

  He peered over the edge and smiled at me. “Loose shingles.”

  “What?”

  “The shingles on this side of the house were loose. Allen had mentioned it to me and I figured that I’d check to see if he’d gotten them fixed.” A shadow crossed his face and he went back to hammering.

  “You do know that my brother does construction, right?” I asked.

  “I know,” Jasper said.

  I waited for some sort of further explanation, but he didn’t offer one. I stood there for a few minutes, watching as Jasper worked. Growing up, we’d never had the money to pay someone to do home repairs, so Mom had done them. When Mitchell had gotten old enough, he’d helped, and then I had. I’d never enjoyed it though, not like Mitchell, and I’d been glad to trade that sort of work for indoor chores whenever possible. After my mom had passed, I’d found myself almost wishing for those days again.

  For the next two days, Jasper came over and inspected the house, checking for loose shingles and shutters, steps and panels. Every time, I reminded him that Mitchell could do it just fine, but he just brushed my comments off and went to work. He rarely talked while he worked, pausing only to thank me when I brought him something to drink. I didn’t ask how he was doing this around work, but I didn’t think he was using vacation time. He looked tired, and not only physically from the work.

  When he didn’t come on the third day, I was both disappointed and a little relieved. I knew he was using the repairs as a way to check up on me, and I appreciated it, but I didn’t want him to feel like he needed to do any of that. I never wanted to be someone’s obligation.

  I did, however, see another truck in my driveway the next day when I came back from the vineyard office. Mitchell was outside, leaning against the door, the remnants of a cigarette clamped between his teeth.

  I swore quietly. Mitchell had smoked since he was thirteen, but then he'd quit, cold turkey six years ago when a buddy of his died from lung cancer. Now, he only smoked when he was worried or upset.

  “Hey, big brother.” I managed to give him a real smile. “What’s up?”

  He dropped the butt and ground it into the dirt before picking it back up again. “You didn't answer the door or your phone, so I went across the street to talk to your neighbor.”

  I pulled out my phone and scowled at it when I realized the battery had died. “You talked to Gina?”

  He nodded. “She said Jasper Whitehall’s been coming by a lot lately.”

  I frowned. “I guess so. I mean, he’s checked in on me a few times since...you know. And then he was fixing some things around the house for me.”

  “If you needed things fixed around the house, all you had to do was call.”

  “I know.” I kept walking towards the house, knowing Mitchell would follow. It was mid-July and way too hot to be standing out in the sun.

  “W
hy didn’t you call me?” he asked as we went into the kitchen.

  I rummaged in the fridge for bottled water and handed him one. “Because I didn’t actually know what needed to be done. Jasper did. Besides, you were busy on a job.”

  “I don’t want him alone with you anymore.”

  “What?” I spun around to stare at my brother. Sure, he’d been a bit protective growing up and it had taken him a while before he’d approved of Allen, but it wasn’t like Jasper and I were anything other than friends.

  “I know he was Allen’s friend, but he doesn’t have the best past, Shae.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I know he got into some trouble when he was younger, but I don’t see what that has to do with this.”

  Mitchell scowled, giving me his best big brother look. “Shae, we’re not talking cutting class. I heard he’d been caught drag racing, arrested for drunken disorderly, all while in high school.”

  “I know all that,” I said quietly.

  “Did you know that three days before his graduation, he and a friend were high on something and went for some sort of hike? No one knows exactly what happened, but the friend ended up dead and Jasper barely beat an arrest.”

  I felt a burst of anger that Mitchell would bring up something like that. And he didn’t even have the whole story. “Yes, they were high. His friend had an allergic reaction to whatever it was and collapsed on the trail. Jasper carried him four miles, but the kid was dead before the ambulance got there. That’s what turned Jasper around, made him want to be a doctor. He’s a good man, Mitchell.”

  My brother’s eyes narrowed. “I still don’t want him around you. I don’t trust him.”

  I folded my arms and gave him my best glare. “Too bad. He’s my friend and he’ll come around whenever he wants to. It’s my choice who I spend time with, not yours.”

  We kept up our standoff for several minutes before he cracked. He sighed and came over, wrapping his arms around me. He put his cheek on my head.

  “I just worry about you, little sister.”

  “I know you do,” I said, my voice muffled against his chest. “And I love you too.”

  Mitchell couldn’t be there all the time, and I needed to be strong enough to stand on my own two feet, but for the moment, I was glad he was here.

  Chapter 16

  I’d known that going to the doctor before a weekend meant I probably wouldn’t get my test results back until the beginning of the next week. Then, when Dr. Sanchez had told me that I might have to wait even longer than that, I’d considered running to the store for a regular pregnancy test. It had been the fear of a false positive that had stopped me. When I hadn’t heard from her nearly a week later, I considered going again. This time, I remembered something else that kept me waiting on that phone call. Everyone in St. Helena knew who Allen was. His uncle had been well-known and when the handsome college graduate had arrived to accept his inheritance, the whole place had been talking about it. The last thing I wanted right now was to go into a store and have a clerk realize who I was. All of St. Helena would know I was pregnant before I even finished peeing on the stick. Right now, only Dr. Sanchez knew of the possibility and I trusted her discretion.

  Distraction had been my only salvation since my appointment. I walked the vineyard with Jacques, listening as he told me about the different things we needed to watch out for in the dirt and on the plants themselves. He took me through the equipment shed and told me how everything worked. I had dinner with Mitchell and listened to him talk about his latest job. I had dinner with Jasper to thank him for all of his help.

  And I started going through Allen’s things.

  I started in the kitchen, throwing away the half-used and expired things that only Allen had liked. The cinnamon creamer he used in his coffee. The now-moldy bag of raisin bagels I hadn’t been able to bring myself to throw away before. The things that were still good, I put aside to take into the mission. I left Allen’s mugs, not quite sure what I wanted to do with those.

  I moved into the living room next, knowing I wasn’t ready for the areas with most of his things. Here, it was a matter of checking the books and magazines, seeing what I’d want to keep around for my own use and what could be donated. As I stacked things, the thought occurred to me that Jasper might want some of this. I didn’t want to bother him at work for something that wasn’t an emergency, so I wrote myself a note to call later and kept working.

  I was almost finished when the landline rang. I considered letting it go to the answering machine, but didn’t want to risk missing the doctor’s call. As soon as I picked it up, I was glad that I did.

  “Mrs. Lockwood?”

  I recognized Dr. Sanchez’s voice immediately.

  “Yes?”

  “I have your test results. Do you want to come in to get them in person?”

  I appreciated that she asked. If I had to set up an appointment to hear a positive or negative, I was pretty sure I would’ve screamed. “No. Please, just tell me.”

  “The results came back negative. You’re not pregnant.”

  All of the strength ran out of my legs and I sat down on the chair with a thump.

  “Thank you,” I heard myself saying. “I appreciate the call.”

  I was pretty sure she said something else, but I didn’t hear it. I hung up and set the phone down.

  I wasn’t pregnant. I’d known that would be the most likely result, but hearing it officially was still different.

  Conflicting emotions warred inside me. On the one hand, I was relieved that I wouldn’t be going through the mourning process while pregnant, my hormones playing havoc on my already worn nerves. There would be no bouts of crying over the father the child would never know. No wondering how to tell him or her about Allen. No dealing with fallout from the Lockwoods who would surely either regard the child as a ploy to keep Allen’s money or as yet another prize of which they wanted to take control. I wouldn’t have put it past them to try to sue for custody. I wouldn’t have eighteen years of raising a child on my own. A lifetime of being a single mother and all that entailed.

  But, still, there was sadness too. Allen had wanted a family, wanted a child. Now, he’d never have one. Allen’s branch of the family tree had ended. I’d never hold a baby and wonder at the blend between Allen and I, never see him in our son or daughter’s face. Never give an exasperated sigh and tell my child that he or she was ‘just like their father.' I would have no piece of him to hold onto. He was truly gone. Forever.

  I managed to make it to the big armchair Allen had loved so much and I curled up in it, letting the tears come. I cried for the future that was now definitely beyond my reach, and I cried because a part of me was relieved that I wouldn’t have to face that future alone. When I finally cried myself out, I got up, washed my face, and returned to what I’d been doing.

  Progress, I supposed, but it felt a lot like moving on. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that, but it seemed like it was happening, whether I wanted it to or not.

  A rough couple days followed, but I managed to get through. I finished out the living room and library, then turned my attention to the garage. I had decided to keep the cars and he only had a few tools in here for maintenance. The tools in the vineyard equipment shed were for those machines and they weren’t ones that Allen had used. We had specialized people for that. Or, at least, Jacques knew what he was doing.

  I’d texted Jacques, asking him to come over after work so that he could go through some of Allen’s things before I took them to the mission, but before he arrived, Henley called.

  “You have an update for me?” I asked after greetings were exchanged.

  “I do.”

  His tone said it wasn’t anything good.

  “I just received notice from the Lockwood’s lawyer that they’re going to attempt to have your marriage to Allen declared invalid.”

  The air went out of my lungs and I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach. My marriage invalid? I knew th
e Lockwoods were some obscure sect of a Judeo-Christian religion, the kind who held to some seriously archaic beliefs – hence the reason I’d had a judge stop the autopsy that would’ve violated those beliefs. Allen hadn’t been devout, but I’d known his wishes in that regard.

  “How?” It was the only word I managed to get out as I clung to the back of the armchair for support.

  “They’re using their religion to state that the marriage contract was never properly followed, that since your ceremony wasn’t committed with their vows and sacraments, that it wasn’t legitimate.”

  “That was Allen’s choice,” I said.

  “They don’t care,” he said simply. “They’re using religion to stall things. I doubt any judge is going to listen, but I get the feeling they’re the kind of people who aren’t above playing dirty.”

  “They aren’t,” I agreed.

  “They’re also attempting to say that the will is a forgery.”

  I swore, not bothering to keep quiet.

  “That was my reaction.” His voice was wry. “But that’s a claim easily disproved,” he continued. “I have a good reputation and most judges will take my word. I also have other documents with Allen’s signature that any handwriting expert will attest matches.”

  “So I don’t have to worry?”

  “Be smart,” he said. “But don’t worry. Let me do my job.”

  I nodded and thanked him. Even as I reminded myself that he’d said not to worry, I couldn’t help but do just that. The forgery part didn’t bother me as much as the Lockwoods trying to say that my marriage to Allen hadn’t existed. It was as if they were trying to strip me of those years with him, to say that none of it mattered.