I couldn't tell if anything was out of place.
I ended up at the door to Harry's bedroom. A knot in my stomach tightened. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The luxurious soft Egyptian cotton sheets were torn off the bed. The thick mattress had been slit down the middle and the stuffing strewn around the room.
Had they found what they were looking for? In the corner of my eye a shadow moved.
I spun around on the balls of my feet.
Ben stood in the doorway. His bottom lip pouted and I knew I needed him.
And I despised myself for it. "Well, Ben, you got what you wanted."
"What are you saying?"
"Don't deny you wanted Harry out of the picture. Now you get to fuck me like you always wanted to."
He shook his head.
"Robyn, how could you think that of me? I only ever wanted you to be happy."
My chest felt ready to explode.
"Make this pain go away."
Silently as a ghost, Ben stepped into the room and wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face into his taunt chest. His arms cradled me. I felt his pecks and biceps twitch with the tension between us.
I felt his gentle caressing fingers on my neck. He lifted my face to his. My entire body yearned for his lips on mine.
Our kisses ravenously explored our open mouths. My hands ran across his chest, ripping at his shirt. Ben's hands pushed the hem of my black dress over my stockings tops as he gripped my hips and lifted me up on onto the mattress.
I unzipped his pants and reached in for his hard cock. I desperately needed Ben inside me and spread my legs as his thick manhood pushed aside my thong and entered me.
I didn't want romantic love making. I didn’t want to be reminded of Harry. Or the betrayal of his promise to return to me.
I needed to forget Harry and the pain he left me with. If only for a few lustful moments. I needed a mindless, hot and passionate fuck to help me forget reason I felt hollow.
"Hard and fast, Ben."
I tore away his jacket and shirt and sank my teeth into his shoulders. Ben cried out and began thrusting with pure lust. He leaned forward and forcefully teased my nipples between his lips.
Over and over as Ben thrust in and out of me, I shuddered with the raw excitement of being filled with a man's insatiable lust. My fingernails dug deep into the athletic muscles of his quivering back. I couldn't get enough of him.
His hungry lips circling on my breasts and his expertly caressing hands moving frantically back and forth across my stockings tops and between my legs. Sending a rolling wave of anticipation crashing through me.
With one hand he ran his fingers up the back of neck and through my hair. Gripping tight the hair on the back of my head and pulling my lips to his. Our searching tongues merged into one groaning urgency of lust.
Until at last I felt a Tsunami of ecstasy crashing up through my body. It hurled me backwards and I bucked and arced my back as Ben cradled me. I gripped his bulging biceps and scraped my fingernails down his thrusting hard buttocks.
Desperate for the waves of frenzied passion to roll on forever. I pulled my face from Ben's so I could gasp out with a whimpering sob, "Don't stop. Please, don't stop, please."
That's when I saw the eyes watching me. Angry and full of sadness. Those eyes possessed my soul.
On the other side of the French doors those blue piercing eyes I'd recognize anywhere. Even from beyond the grave.
I cried out, "Harry?"
Ben turned to see what I was looking at. I pushed Ben off me and ran to the French doors. The eyes vanished into the mist.
I flung the doors open and ran out.
"Harry! Harry!"
I heard Ben calling after me. "For God's sake, Robyn."
Footsteps hurried behind me.
I spun around, but only saw Ben. I turned away from him and stared out at the golden setting sun on the lake.
All the energy of lust evaporated from with me. I felt exhausted and slumped onto my knees and into the wet grass.
I felt Ben's arms lift me from the grass and didn't resist as he carried me inside.
He gently placed me on the mattress and I curled my knees up to my chest. Ben stroked the wet hair out of my eyes.
"You going to be OK? You should rest."
I was seeing ghosts; that was his implication. I knew then, the only way to lay Harry's ghost to rest was to seek vengeance on his killer.
I knew I'd never rest. There was too much to do. "Take me back."
CHAPTER SEVENTY NINE
Back at the apartment I took a long hot shower. Mai came into my bedroom as I was opening up my laptop.
"A new assignment for the Times?"
"I need to keep busy."
I logged onto Campus Love. I had several dozen messages.
Mai stroked my hair. "Isn't it a little soon to be looking?"
"Depends what you mean by looking."
The first dozen or so messages were guys with profiles on Campus Love sending me photos of their anatomy.
Mai whistled in appreciation. "It's like viewing a snake house in a zoo."
"I was thinking more like a sausage factory."
"Only Chipolata sausage on the menu today."
We laughed.
Mai sighed. "Are you still looking for your parents' killer?"
"I think their killer may also be responsible for Harry's death."
Mai quickly grew bored of pictures of tent poles in various states of elevation and left. "Brad's coming over later. But I can tell him no, if you just want to make it the two of us?"
"No, that's fine."
I ran a filter search and sent a generic Hello message to the remaining few profiles that vaguely resembled the obsessive nature of the assassin Shard. None were online and I was about to give up for now when an instant message came through.
The message was from a new profile. There was no picture of the guy, but the profile details seemed promising.
The subject, Ryan, was twenty eight years old. Tall. Rated themselves athletic, very good looking and listed their personality as other.
So far so loser. But then I browsed their interests:
Self-confessed blues music aficionado seeks similar. Ear plugs or hearing problem also acceptable.
Despite myself I laughed.
Ryan was online. I quickly viewed his message:
To the newspaper girl, sorry for your loss. Just remember:
If you read this line, remember not
The hand that writ it; for I love you so
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
My hand flew to my mouth. I recognized it as the exact same quote from a Shakespeare sonnet that I saw on the wall of Harry's bedroom.
I hit reply and typed:
Who is this? Harry?
I hit send.
An instant message popped up from Ryan:
Who's Harry?
I typed: Forget it! But thank you for the sweet words.
Ryan replied: No problem. Recognized you from your article in the Kimberley Times. Figured you weren't in the mood for dick pictures.
I typed: Very perceptive of you. But you have an advantage over me. Married?
Ryan typed: There was once a girl, but things got a little crazy and I had to go away.
I typed: She got bored of your sonnets?
Ryan replied: Fate didn't give us a chance to become bored of each other.
I typed: I know what you mean. Ended badly?
Ryan replied: You could say that. But I like to think of endings as new beginnings. She's the most beautiful, vulnerable soul I've ever had the honor of knowing. Sorry, but I had better go for now.
I quickly typed: Please, stay a while... it's been so long since I could talk like this.
There was a long pause during which I checked his online status. It had grayed out.
I was about to close the laptop,
when a message from Ryan popped up.
It read: Remember it is darkest before the dawn.
I should have felt comforted by the kind stranger, but instead I felt angry that I'd connected and poured out my vulnerability, only to be rejected. I also knew I wasn't thinking straight.
My cell phone rang and I jolted off the bed.
It was Hemingway calling.
I picked up.
"Hey Robyn, I'm lost in a dating desert of dick-less morons and thinking of drowning my sorrows in wine and whiskey. Two's company. My place?"
I snorted back a tear. I didn't want to spend the evening feeling jealous over what Mai and Brad had together. Especially when they'd been so kind.
"I'll come right over. Text me your address."
CHAPTER EIGHTY
Hemingway lived in the same brownstone as Davina Cole. It was a far more modest first floor apartment. Tastefully decorated and lit in low, intimate lighting.
The floor was a beautiful rosewood. So clean I could eat off it. I glanced around and surprisingly found not a book in sight.
"My book collection is now digital. Needed the space for my old record collection."
Hemingway opened a bottle of white wine and poured two glasses.
"What kind of music?"
She shrugged and indicated a room with double doors.
"Little bit of everything worth listening to."
The smell of baking wafted into the living room.
"Smells delicious."
She pulled a worried expression. "Smells like burning. I'm not very domesticated, I'm afraid. In the event of disaster we may need to order in pizza."
"Can I help?"
"No need. Make yourself at home, Robyn. I'll just be a moment."
I waited for Hemingway to disappear into the kitchen. I turned to the double doors and felt my stomach clench. I stepped towards the doors as a floorboard creaked. I hesitated and hearing Hemingway busy banging pots in the kitchen, I tried the handle.
It turned softly and seemed to open in my mind a crack. A sliver of light, illuminating a view I hadn't considered before.
The doors swung open and revealed a room where each of the four walls were lined with shelves full of twelve inch vinyl record sleeves.
I stepped in. The air felt chilled and dry. I moved to the far wall. It was stacked entirely with old blues records.
I felt a knot constricting in the back of my head.
The doors slammed behind me and I jolted. I spun on the balls of my feet and faced Hemingway.
She held a hand gun with a screw barrel muffler and aimed it at my head.
"Hemingway, what are you doing?"
"Helping you, Robyn."
"Helping me how?"
"Your considerable efforts to find your parents' killer have amused me."
"Why?"
"Because, Robyn, all this time, it's me you've been looking for."
I felt bile rise to my throat and burn. "Shard?"
She nodded.
"But Shard's a man. You're a woman."
"In body, yes, I'm a woman, but in spirit I'm more a man than most men."
"You killed Harry?"
She shook her head. "That was a rash error on the part of my other guest."
There was a knocking sound from the far side of the double doors.
Without moving, Hemingway shouted, "Come."
The doors opened to the silhouette of a man. He stepped into the low light of the music room. His eyes of brown and blue glinted in the low light.
"Good evening, Robyn."
"Kublai?"
"You seem surprised."
"I thought you'd be out of the country by now?"
"I had a few loose ends to tidy. But you are the last."
I swallowed hard. "What are you going to do?"
He smiled. "Don't worry, Robyn, you won't feel a thing."
He nodded to Hemingway. "Is everything ready?"
"I need two minutes."
She handed her gun to Kublai and let herself out.
"Kublai, why kill Harry?"
"Now is not the time to explain. Let us just for now call it destiny."
"Kublai, if you leave now, I won’t tell anyone."
"My dear I believe you."
"So..."
"I believe you, because you're coming with me."
"To where?"
A floorboard creaked and Kublai whipped around. A shadow leapt at him and knocked him to the ground.
Ben stood over Kublai and asked, "Robyn, are you OK?"
"We need to go now."
"Ben, did you see her?”
"Who?"
"Hemingway, she's Shard."
Ben seemed confused. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. He fell to his knees. His hand went to his heart. He pulled it away and stared at the pool of blood in his palm.
I heard someone screaming, then realized it was me.
Hemingway stepped out of the shadows and kicked Ben in the back. He groaned and fell face down on top of Kublai.
Kublai rolled Ben off him and stood. I ran to Ben and cradled him in my arms.
"Ben, hold on, I'll get help."
I shouted to Kublai "Please, don't do this. I’m begging you to let me take him to a hospital."
Ben began to convulse in my arms.
"Ben, hold on."
He shook his head and reached up with his bloody hand to stroke my face.
Bubbles of blood popped on his lips. "We had good times, right, Rob?"
"What?" I shook my head. "Yes, yes. And we'll have more."
He sighed and stared right through me with dead eyes.
"Ben? Ben?" I shook his body until I felt a sharp pin prick in the side of my neck. Dark shadows filled my vision and then I had the feeling of falling head first into a dark abyss.
CHAPTER EIGHTY ONE
I woke to the sound of bird song and wind chimes as a gentle breeze caressed my face with warm sunshine. Tinkling splashes and hollow bamboo yawns held me in a state somewhere between the ignorant fog of sleep and the aching awareness of consciousness.
I slowly opened my eyes with visions of Ben dying in my arms and Harry's body, atom by molecule, rising into a sky of ashes.
I sat up with a jolt and caught a lungful of fresh mountain air that made my head spin. I fought to focus on a valley view below me and rolling away in all directions like an infinite carpet of a million shades of lush greens. I seemed to be in an oriental palace garden of dragon statues rising from lily ponds connected like daisy chains in full blossoms of pink and white.
The visions faded, drowning in waterfalls filling bamboo see-saws as multi colored kingfishers darted across the ponds and chased zipping dragonflies.
A soft focused silk kimono clad figure knelt before me. A bamboo cup seemed to float in the air about my dry lips. A kind female voice seemed vaguely familiar as it whispered in my ear.
She stroked my forearm. "Please... to purge the last of the drugs from your body."
I took a sip. The liquid was bitter.
"Please drink it all, Robyn."
The cup tipped back and I swallowed a few times. Suddenly my guts clenched violently and a series of spasms engulfed my body. I fell forward onto my knees and vomited for the next five minutes.
I sat back on my heels and gasped for the fresh air. I wiped my sweating brow with my sleeve and realized I was wearing a silk kimono.
Multiple pairs of gentle hands helped me onto a flat bamboo reclining chair covered in a deep cushion and wiped my lips with warm, damp tissues.
My vision fast improving, I peered into the orange ball in the sky and then at the kimono figures gathering around. They stood someway off, as it seemed the cup bearer issued instructs in rapid and authoritative Mandarin to them.
I turned to her and stared. Her face moved in and out of blurry focus. I tried to speak but my tongue seemed dead.
Eventually I managed a few slurring words, "You look just like a friend of mine," I said.
She nodded and bowed, revealing a gold butterfly clasp holding up her hair in a tight bun.
Then I realized she actually was her. "Mai?"
She bowed and whispered, "He has eyes everywhere."
"Where are we?"
Mai stared at the bamboo floor. "Kublai's retreat. He calls it his Pleasure palace."
"But where are we?"
She looked up with tears in her eyes. "Robyn, we're in China. In the Pleasure Palace of Kublai Khan, the chosen may enter, but you can never leave."
"We're prisoners?"
She glanced around her with fear in her eyes and silently nodded.
“Mai Ling, how did you get here?”
She pointed to a pretty Asian woman. It took me a while to recognize her out of her maid uniform.
“Sui Xang?”
I turned back to Mai.
"But why am I here? Why are you here?"
Mai avoided my gaze. "Mai? Please!"
She looked up with tears welling up in her eyes. "It is my job to prepare you for your wedding."
"My what?"
"You are to marry him."
"Who?"
"You are expected to be his Queen. To continue the dynasty."
I gripped her shoulders. "Tell me who the Hell I'm supposed to marry."
"Kublai. He's obsessed with you. It's been his plan all along."
"He told you this?"
She nodded.
"When?"
"When we arrived in China. Three days ago."
I bit my lip. "Mai, we have to get out of here."
She took my hand and helped me slowly stand. "Come."
She led me to the edge of the wall garden and pointed out across the valley. "See for yourself, Robyn."
She pointed out the perimeter of the gardens. A thick stone wall encircled us. Beyond it, a sheer drop of thousands of feet. We perched on a mountain top.
The only thing connecting us to the mainland was a narrow footbridge swaying in the high altitude winds. On the far side of the footbridge I could just about make out a guard tower.
Mai turned to me. "No one knows we're here, Robyn, there is no escape. Unless you can sprout wings, accept your fate, as I have."
There was no way I was going to spend my life as a slave bride. I studied the eyes of the servants watching us.
Guilty Secrets (Campus Love and Murder Sorority Eyes Romance Book 1) Page 20