Alex gave an exaggerated hair flip, “So true.” They turned at the sound of a door slamming, seeing Jane juggling a stack of folders, her travel mug and an umbrella as she hurried to the car. Alex and Simone took that to leave as well and went to their traded vehicles, Alex slid into the leather seat, sighing as she cranked the car, loving the roar of the engine as she started it up, “I think I know what my next car purchase is going to be,” she muttered out loud, not knowing Simone was thinking the same thing. As they followed one another out of the street and down the subdivision, they were unaware of the black truck following them.
Alex pulls up to a small blue-shuttered cottage at the end of the road, she looked down at the address, then back at the house. She was at the right address; somehow she could see the woman that was her great-great aunt living her. The vague stories she remembered as a child told by her mother and aunt, the woman in the stories would be right at home in this quaint little house.
She pulled herself from her thoughts and gathered her notepad and digital recorder in hand, getting out of the car. The driveway was a gravel path that led up to a brick pathway that stopped at the front stoop. She knocked on the door and waited.
It was the second knock that she heard footsteps shuffle to the door and a small, white-haired woman answered the door. She was an older woman with wrinkles gracing her tanned skin, but the dark eyes that were so similar to Jane’s, smiled before her mouth did. But what told Alex she had the right woman was how much she looked like Gina. Right down to the long braid she always saw Gina wear in pictures.
“Hello, may I help you?” Alex pulled her identification out, “Ms. Tamara LittleFire?”
The woman frowned, but gave a hesitant yes. She gave her a reassuring smile, “I’m Alex Williams, and I’m meeting with you in place of Detective Hunter.”
The woman gave her a confused look, “The detective wanted to talk about Gina’s death. I haven’t heard them say a word about her murder since a month after she died.”
Alex shifted her weight, “May I come in?”
She gave her a long searching look before stepping back, letting her into the home and small living room. She gestured to the couch, taking the lone chair, smoothing her long dress as she sat, “You said you wanted to talk about Gina’s death. That happened thirty years ago, why after all this time are you bringing it up?”
Alex leaned forward on the couch, “Detective Hunter found a break in the case, she found new evidence in the case; that was why she was wanted to speak with you.”
The older woman excused herself and left to go to want she assumed was the kitchen. She came back a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of what looked to be tea, she handed one to Alex before sitting down herself, holding her mug in a firm grip. “You wanted to ask me some questions, ask them,” and so Alex turned the recorder on and began the interview.
Chapter Ten
It was late afternoon when Jane came home from the interview she had to do. To her surprise, the delicious scent of roasted chicken perfumed the house as she walked through the door.
Peter was in the kitchen making dinner. He looked up from the salad he was preparing, “Hey, thought I’d surprise you with dinner.”
He set the salad bowl to the side and walked over to the oven, pulling a baking sheet out as he did. He shrugged, “It’s not much, but it beats fast food.” She walked over to his side, grabbing as slice of carrot as she did.
“This looks great, thank you.” She reached up and pecked him on the cheek, “Is there anything I can do?”
He gestured to the table, “You can get the drinks and set the table. I’ve got everything else.”
She did just that, bringing a pitcher of tea and glasses to the center of the table after she got the rest of the dishes, setting the table as he brought the bowls of salad and chicken.
She took a bite and her eyes widened, swallowing it she said, “That’s pretty good, Pete. You’ve been holding out on me!”
He grinned at her over his own plate, “My dad’s recipe; about the only thing he can cook without burning the house down!”
She laughed, “Well, my compliment to the chef.” Her smile dimmed alittle as she looked to the empty chair at the left of her, “It seems too quiet without Luke saying how much he likes the chicken but doesn’t like the icky vegetables.”
He laughed before sobering, taking her hand in his. “He’ll be back before you know it. Then talking your ear off all about the trip.” She smiled at him, squeezing his hand before returning her plate.
***
It was getting dark when Jane got the text from Alex that she finished the interview and was heading back now. Peter was still there, enjoying the movie they were watching while sipping their second glass of wine of the night.
She couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked tonight. He was in his typical jeans and t-shirt, but tonight his shirt seemed to cling to him, drawing her eyes to his muscular chest and flat stomach.
The movie they were watching had lost its appeal when Peter could feel Jane’s eyes on him. He would be lying if he said his eyes hadn’t strayed to her as well. She had changed out of her suit earlier before dinner, coming back down in tight jeans and a top that hinted at her cleavage. As she leaned down to put her glass down, the shirt slid down and did more than hint at her cleavage now. It begged him to reach up and see if her skin was as soft as it looked.
Before he realized the time, the ending credits began to roll; the movie was over and so was his excuse to stay. He was drawn out of his thoughts when he heard the clink of glass; Jane sat her now empty wine glass down before standing. She reached her hand down, taking his hand in hers pulling him to stand up.
She walked them up the stairs and up to her bedroom, pulling him inside. She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, toying with the hair at the nape before pulling him down and leaned up, taking his mouth with hers. His arms unconsciously wrapped around the small of her waist, bringing her so close he could feel the lace of her bra threw their shirts. He pulled her closer, feeling her gasp as he hardened against her stomach. Then abruptly pulled back, breaking the kiss, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
He steps back, breaking her hold around his neck. “I can’t do this again Jane.” He runs his hands threw his hair, “Why, Jane?” His eyes took on a haunted look. “We’ve been friends for five years then, I trusted you with things about me, my own family doesn’t know.”
She sank back on the bed, her head down, unable to look him in the eye as she finally told him, “You’re right, Peter. I loved you so much.” ‘I still do,’ she thought.
“That’s why I sent you the letter and told you never to contact me again.” He moved to kneel in front of her.
“I don’t understand. If you loved me so much, why did you tell me to never contact me again and you didn’t want anything to do with me?”
Tears began to gather in her eyes, “Do you remember Roger Evans, the cop that was mentoring me while I was in the Academy?” He nodded, “Yeah, Lieutenant Evans. Why?” She let out a shuddering breath, “Because the week after you left, he died.” She swallowed hard, before speaking.
“We were called out on a robbery and he was shot, trying to get a kid out of the line of fire to safety.” She took a shuddering breath. “He died in my arms while we waited for a bus.” She finally looked up at him, “He and his wife just found out they were having a girl, Peter. Alice was devastated when she got the news, she nearly lost the baby. And she was never the same after that.”
She looked up at him, “I couldn’t do that to you. Peter. I’ve wanted to be a cop since I was a kid, it was my dream. But that day showed me, if I wanted to keep my dream, I couldn’t keep you too.
“Now that’s been answered, I have another question. Is Luke my son?”
She looked up in surprise. “Why do you think that? I was pregnant with him when got together.”
“But you had him early.” She shook her head, “P
ete, he’s not yours.” She sighed; she would be telling another secret.
“Peter, you know I’ve always wanted kids.” His nod had her continuing, “Well when I entered the Academy, I had to have a physical done. While I was there they also recommended a pelvic exam. They wanted to run some more tests based off the exam and that was they found something.”
She sighed, “I had the stages of endometriosis.” His sharp inhale told he had indeed earned his medical degree. She looked up with teary eyes. “I got the call just after Alex and I left for spring vacation. I was barely twenty and told I might have two-to-three years- tops, to have children before the symptoms made it impossible.”
She let out a heavy sigh, she wasn’t proud of the next part. “Alex took me out to a club hoping to get my mind off the news for a while. I used a fake ID and hit the bar hard, and I got drunk that night.” She shook her head at her past self’s foolishness, she had been lucky it wasn’t worse than it was.
“Probably worse than I had ever been and I woke up with the worst hangover I’ve ever had. And a strange man’s room. I grabbed my clothes and got out of there.”
“Four weeks later, I’m pregnant. Alex is the only one that knows the truth, the rest my family thinks I had a spur of the moment and went to a sperm bank to conceive Luke.”
“But that’s not all of it. What I’m going to you next might be the deal breaker with us.”
She took a fortifying breath, “I can’t have any more kids. Luke was my last.” She shakily stood up, unbuttoning her jeans, pulling them down on her hips and pulled her shirt up to under her bra.
He was still and silent for a long moment before moving, gently running his fingertips over the scars, she explained, “I went into distress at 34 weeks. They had to an emergency C-Section to save Luke’s life.”
She swallowed hard, “What hadn’t shown up on any of the scans was I was pregnant with twins, and I had an ectopic pregnancy with the second twin.”
His eyes went wide; ectopic pregnancies rarely went full-term, most ended with the fallopian tube they were in erupted, ending the pregnancy and sometimes the mother’s life was well.
He could see how a doctor would miss it; most doctors could be in the medical field for years and never see a case like that.
She continued, “When they did the C-section I started going into arrest. They got Luke out in time, but the second twin….” Tears were now pouring down her face, a sob catching in her throat, “They couldn’t get her out in time.”
He wrapped his arms around her, “She was so beautiful. She had a full head of black hair and looked just like my baby pictures.” She sobbed even harder, “I never even got to hold her! They kept me sedated for a week before I woke up. They said the hemorrhaging was bad, they couldn’t stop it. They took one of my ovaries and fallopian tubes. They said with my condition and the stress and trauma of my delivery, I wouldn’t able to have another child.”
He pulled back, cupping her face in his hands, “Jane, that doesn’t matter to me. I love you; I don’t care if we can’t have kids. Luke is more than enough. I love that boy.” Tears ran down her face at that. He cupped her face, holding her to him.
“What was her name?” She pulled back, looking at him, then pulled her jeans down, showing him the curve of the scar on her lower belly. He could now see a tattoo along the edge of it, a small white rose curved at the end, “Her name was Alena Rose.” Gently he ran his fingers over the tattoo.
It’s beautiful. Both of them.”
He stood up, pulling his shirt up and over his head, tossing it on the chair in the corner. His chest gleamed pale in the moonlight, a tattoo showed dark on his chest over his heart. She traced the ink with her fingers, puzzling over the red and black design. “It’s a Claddagh heart. I got it right after I left Raleigh.”
Jane had heard of them, or rather the rings. Giving them to your lover symbolized a commitment. The heart facing inward meant you were taken…she started at the meaning behind the tat.
She laid her hand over it, “Do you still mean it, that your ‘heart is taken’?”
Peter laid his hand over hers, looking into her eyes, “I’ve tried to forget you. I tried to move on. But I’ve never found anyone that made me feel the way you do. My heart has been yours for the last eight years.” A shy smiled formed on his full lips, “Maybe longer.”
His smile faded, apprehension clouding his expressive eyes.
“Do you feel the same for me?”
Poor Peter, she had no idea how much she hurt him until now. With that mind, she slid both hands up, cupping his face, “My heart broke telling you to stay away. It hasn’t been the same since, and it hasn’t been mine since the day I opened my door to find you on the other side.”
He pulled her against him, taking her mouth in a passionate kiss. She kissed back pulling him close, wrapping her arms around his neck. Jane felt his bare torso against her stomach and before she realized what he was doing, he had her t-shirt up and over her head, reclaiming her mouth in a increasingly passionate kiss. His hands went to the waistband of her jeans, tugging them the rest of the way down.
She stepped out of them, kicking them away, before pulling and tugging at his jeans, undoing them and pushing them down his lean hips. Pete had them off and in a corner as he pulled her into his arms. Her legs were around his waist as he laid her back on the bed, she broke the kiss long enough to scot further up the bed.
Their hands roamed one another’s skin, underwear tossed aside as they become desperate to touch bare skin. He pulled her up, flipping them around, his back on the bed with Jane resting on top of his lap. A delighted smile on her flushed face. A small foil package retrieved from Pete’s wallet lay on the bed by the pillows, ready.
His hands were everywhere; a sweep across her stomach had her quivering, a gentle touch down the curve of her spine had her arching her back, a brush against the wet folds of her sex had her moaning, the feel of his mouth on her breasts had her hips grinding against him, eagerly pushing the taut nipple in between his lips further into his suckling mouth. His gasp filled the room as her wet sex rubbed against his hard erection. Her hands were equally busy, fingertips glided across his mouth and down to the sensitive hollow at his throat. Jane smiled at his low moan as her fingers brushed the tight buds of his nipples as her hands trailed down the path to his muscled stomach, stopping just short of touching the hot, hard shaft she sat against.
Jane reached between them, grasping him in a firm hold. She lifted up; pulling her breasts away from his hot, wet mouth.
Only to set back on his legs, grabbing the package by his head as she sat up. She ripped it open, pulling the rolled up latex over his shaft, sheathing him in one stroke.
Still grasping his hard shaft, she moved up onto her knees over him and sank down on him. Releasing a hiss as she did; feeling him throbbing threw the latex separating them.
He tried to pull back, but her hands on his stopped him, shaking her head, “I’m okay, Pete.”
She released a breathless laugh as she began to adjust to the snug fit of them joined.
“It’s just been a long time.” He leaned up, gently running a hand threw her sweat-dampened hair, caressing her, “How long?” she smiled up at him, “You.”
He was questioning if he heard her correctly when she cupped his face in her hands, laying a gentle kiss on his mouth, “You heard right. How about you?”
He ducked his head, “Two years ago.” He shook his head, “I don’t want to talk about it at this time. I’m here with you. That’s all that matters.”
He ended the talk with his mouth on hers, slowly building her arousal back up, making her moan as she slowly thrust, testing her readiness. Her moan said all he needed to hear, with his mouth on hers he slowly flipped them around. He leaned over her, slowly thrusting into her as she became more aroused as he slowly sped up his thrusts.
Her hands slowly unwrapped from his shoulders, to wander up his neck, tangling in his auburn hair, bri
nging him closer as she breathily encouraged him.
She joined him in the rhythm, moaning as he went deeper each time, his voice echoing hers. Jane’s hands roamed his back, holding onto his lower back as her legs wrapped his waist, moaning as the position pushed him deeper, her breathy encouragement to go harder, faster.
Her hands clutched him to her, feeling her pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest, the friction increasing the tightening in her belly. Her nails digging in his back as he hit a spot in her that had her tightening around him bring her closer to the edge. His tempo sped up, hitting that spot again and again, and that was it.
Every muscle tightening as an intense orgasm rippled through her as she came with a shriek.
Her sex clamped down around his shaft like a vice and one hard thrust of hips, Pete joined her, their pleasured moans and cries filled the room. He collapsed forward, barely keeping from landing on Jane. He rolled to his back, bringing Jane with him, panting.
She laid across his chest, breathing hard as her heartrate went back to normal. They laid there in the aftermath of their lovemaking. They were silent, but were there were no words. Their actions spoke more; he ran his hand threw her hair, pushing it back from her face.
He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, “I love you, Jane. I never stopped loving you.” He started to drift off, not hearing her softly reply, “I never stopped either, Petey. I was just too damn hard-headed to realize what I had.”
***
Alex closed the car door after getting in and starting it. She was aware of driving down the road, but her mind was elsewhere. It was back in Fulton with a ninety-eight year old woman who was her great-great aunt; and the story she doubted even her grandfather knew whatalone her mother and aunt.
The elderly woman handed her a steaming mug of ginger-honey tea before taking one for herself and set back down, holding it in her gnarled hands before speaking, “I’m sorry about what happened with your mama and aunt.” She sighed, sipping her tea before speaking, “If we had known about Gina we would have taken them in. We have lot to answer for. We spent all these years honoring papa’s wishes.”
Letters to Jane (Mississippi Book 1) Page 8