Cold Deception (His Agenda 4): Prequel to the His Agenda Series

by Lavelle, Dori

  “She never did. When I turned sixteen, I ran away from the orphanage and went to look for her. I found her, all right. But she was too far gone. A few months later, I heard that she had died.” Lacey stopped talking and closed her eyes.

  Terence waited a while for her to continue, but she didn’t. When she opened her eyes again, they were sparkling.

  “How did you survive all those years? Did you return to the orphanage?”

  “Yes, until I turned eighteen. Then I got out and changed my name from

  Elizabeth to—”

  “Your name is Elizabeth?”

  “Used to be. I was named after my mother. I didn’t want anything to remind me of her, so the name had to go.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I was on my own then. I did odd jobs, lived in cheap motels and on the street until I found Oasis. Now here I am. That’s my story.” She smiled, but it didn’t fool Terence. He saw the pain behind her smile.

  Terence reached for her hand and held it, running his thumb over her soft skin. He wanted to do more but feared it might be too soon. He didn’t want to chase her off, not after he had uncovered their bond. He would do his best to take it slow, even when all he could think about was kissing away her pain and touching her in a way he had never touched any woman. He wanted to take her right here in the open.

  “Now that you know about me, tell me your story. Is it better than mine?”

  Terence’s throat closed and he wrapped a hand around it as if he were choking. He wanted to tell her. He had come here ready to do just that, to open up to her and let the demons out of his system, but he couldn’t now. They reminded him how worthless he was, that no one could possibly love him. They had been inside him all his life. If Lacey knew the truth about him, she would turn her back on him.

  “Let’s save my story for another day.” He flopped onto his back. He felt her watching him. He longed to kiss her, but he squashed the desire.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” She sounded concerned. “It helps to let it out sometimes, to share your burden with someone else. That’s why Oasis offers all those therapy sessions. I noticed you didn’t sign up for any of them.”

  Terence closed his eyes. “Talking doesn’t help me. Never has.” He had kept it inside for so long, buried the pain and anger so deep, it would take more than talking to dig it all up. “But I can tell you one thing.” He turned his head to the side so he was looking at her.

  “What’s that?” Lacey lowered herself back onto her back and turned her head to meet his eyes.

  “I like you. And I will tell you more about me eventually. Then I will kiss you. But not tonight.” One kiss from her would send him falling, and he didn’t want that yet. For now he needed to remain on solid ground. She was his girl and he would have her soon enough.

  She laughed. “I think when you’re ready, I will let you kiss me. I’d like that very much.”

  Chapter Six

  After helping Lacey with the washing up, as he had done the past few days after dinner, Terence asked her again to accompany him to the lake. She agreed without hesitation.

  When she was around him, she felt something she had never experienced before: She felt desirable. That feeling was like a drug. Even though they had done nothing but talk at the lake that night, they had both discovered something that couldn’t be explained, something fragile and powerful at the same time. Since then, Terence had waited for her to finish her mealtime duties so they could eat and wash up together. But he had not asked her out again, even though she hoped he would.

  Until today. And this time it really felt like a date.

  They didn’t say much as they drove through the quiet town, her arms around his waist, her head against his back, her heart thumping.

  When they arrived at their favorite spot under the stars and Terence spread out the blanket on the grass, she was ready to talk, to learn more about him, to dig deep. He carried his own pain and secrets like every person who walked through the doors of Oasis, and while she was terrified to hear his story, she wanted to. She wanted to know more about the first man to make her heart race like crazy.

  They settled on the blanket by the water like last time, and she flipped onto her stomach, resting her chin in the palms of her hands. “Last time, I told you my story. I think it’s only fair you tell me yours.”

  Terence was quiet for a long time. When she sighed and sat up, he pulled her back down and turned her to face him.

  “I’m not the man you think I am, Lacey. I’m broken.”

  She ran a hand over the five o’clock shadow on his cheek. “That’s not what I see.”

  He covered her hand with his. “Okay, here goes. My father was an ass. My mother left when I was a kid. My father took it out on me… almost killed me. I was thrown into an orphanage and stayed there. No one wanted me. I thought I could deal with it at first. Any place was better than being with my father. At least I was in a safe place.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

  “You were in an orphanage too? Which?”

  “The Sunshine Orphanage.”

  “Serendipity is a small town. I thought we might have been in the same place and didn’t know it. I was at Angel Home, though. It’s not as big as Sunshine, but it wasn’t too bad over there.” She braced herself. “What happened to you there?”

  He ran a rough hand through his hair. “The worst, most disgusting things you can imagine. I don’t like to talk about it.”

  “You can tell me anything. I won’t see you differently.” Even as she spoke the words, Lacey’s fear reared its head. The crumpled look on his face gave her a sinking feeling.

  “The founder of the orphanage… Brett Smithers. He—”

  “Stop.” She inhaled sharply. “It’s okay. It if hurts too much to talk about, don’t say it. I’m sorry for forcing you. What matters is that you’re out of there.” She had sensed what he was about to say, and she knew his revelation would hurt her too.

  “Are you sure?” Relief smoothed his face.

  She nodded, and then, before he could say anything more, she kissed him. His lips were warm, soft. As if he had been waiting for this moment, he wound a hand into her hair and pulled her closer, crushing their lips together. The kiss was intoxicating, dizzying, terrifying. He flipped her onto her back and was suddenly on top of her. He was heavy but she liked it. He made her feel safe. And she knew what she wanted. She had wanted it from the first time they locked eyes, from the moment he rescued her. She wanted him, and nothing else mattered.

  The park was isolated, which was a good thing. She didn’t think she could stop herself from pushing down his pants and pushing her hand into his underwear. She wouldn’t have been able to stop him from pulling up her skirt and dragging down her panties. She wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from wrapping her hand around him, tugging him gently, and then pulling him deep inside her with an arch of her back. Wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from screaming out her pleasure and pain.

  Later, as she lay in his arms, sweaty and fulfilled, she didn’t tell him he was the first man she had made love to. She’d started taking the pill while dating Craig, thinking he would be the one to take her virginity, but she’d changed her mind when she found out he had other girlfriends.

  “I was in prison, Lacey,” Terence said, smoothing back her hair from her sweaty forehead.

  Dread cooled Lacey’s insides. She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from responding, from jumping to conclusions.

  “I was in prison for eleven years for… for murder.”

  She sat up, covering her breasts with part of the blanket as the coolness in her belly turned to hard, cold ice. She had expected his story to be bad, even expected him to have been in prison… but not for murder. Not for killing another human being. As she watched him, raw pain crushed her lungs. The man she had given her virginity to, something she had guarded with her life, was a murderer. Was she falling in love with a criminal? Had she just given he
r whole self to a man who she might now have to be afraid of?

  “You… you murdered…”

  He shook his head slowly. “No. I was in jail for the murder of Brett Smithers. Only I didn’t kill him. My lawyer fought hard to make them see the truth. If he hadn’t, I’d still be locked away for life.”

  Air whooshed back into Lacey’s lungs and she coughed, almost choking. “Please tell me it’s true. Please.”

  Terence pulled her roughly into his arms and held her so tight she feared she might break. He buried his head into her shoulder.

  “Tell me you’re not lying,” she said, in a whisper this time. But she held on to him, allowed him to hide in her.

  “That man did unthinkable things to me.”

  “But you didn’t kill him.”

  He pulled back and looked into her wet eyes. “No. I swear, I was sent to prison for a crime I did not commit. I’m innocent. You have to believe me.”

  She placed her hands on either side of his face. “I do.” Her shoulders sagged and hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She was crying not only with relief, but for Terence, for what he had gone through. For what that man had done to him. No wonder he believed he was broken. No wonder he held on so tight to her.

  Something trickled down her breast. He was crying too. He felt close enough to her to open up completely.

  Eventually, Terence made love to her again, as if it were their first time—fast and raw, and then slow and passionate. He showed every inch of her body that he owned it, filled her heart with more love than she thought was possible. By the time they returned to the orphanage, dawn had broken. They’d spent all night at the lake in each other’s arms. Lilliana and some of the other helpers were already up, preparing breakfast. Lilliana looked at both of them with eyes of disapproval coupled with a smirk. Lacey could see that the older woman was happy for her, and she offered Lilliana a shy smile.

  Before they parted, Terence kissed her hard on the lips. When the others asked her about him later, she told them the truth. Terence was her man.

  Chapter Seven

  The rest was history, as they say. For weeks they were inseparable.

  Their drive to the lake became a routine they followed every night after dinner. Sometimes they did something else before or after. They didn’t have much money, but with what they had, they went out on dates, to dinner at cheap restaurants, to the movies, to coffee. Like any normal couple would do. They had lots of wild, passionate sex.

  One night as she lay in his arms in a cheap motel, she finally told him he had been her first.

  He looked at her without a smile, but his whole face glowed. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything. Just feel good.”

  “Hell yeah,” he shouted, not caring if anyone heard. “I feel good, all right. Now let’s continue this little party we started.” He pulled the cover off her body and turned her onto her stomach. As she panted, he positioned himself on top of her, opened her up, and thrust hard into her, his hands squeezing her butt. He pulled out completely and thrust in again, then did it again and again until she swore she was going crazy.

  “This pussy belongs to Terence,” he said through clenched teeth. “Say it.” He eased himself into her again, stifling a tormented groan.

  Lacey buried her head into the pillow as she writhed beneath him. “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  “Say it or I’ll stop.” He pulled out again and waited for her to say the words.

  “My pussy… my pussy is yours.”

  “Good girl.” He gripped one of her shoulders and drove her to the edge of insanity. They fell off the cliff together, and into each other’s arms.

  “I promise you.” His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling hard. “I promise to never let you go. Never.”

  “You better not.” She kissed his neck, tasting the salt.

  He sat up in bed and looked her straight in the eyes. “I want us to start a new life, you and me. Give me a couple of weeks to work things out. Then let’s move out of that shelter and on to something better. I will take great care of you, Lacey Bradley.”

  Chapter Eight

  Terence

  Terence wiped his hand on a rag and stepped away from the BMW whose engine he’d just fixed. He pushed the rag into his pants pocket at the moment his phone rang. He leaned against a dirty truck and pulled it out of his pocket, eying the number for a moment. Marion. Terence had been avoiding his brother’s calls for a while now. Marion reminded him of everything that had happened to him, everything that was wrong with him. Terence sighed. Maybe if he heard what Marion had to say, his brother would leave him the hell alone. He pressed the “answer” button.

  “What do you want?”

  “Do you ever answer your calls?” Marion said on the other end, rage buried in his voice. “I’m not going anywhere. You better get used to it.”

  “I answer calls, just not yours.”

  “This is important. Father is at Serendipity Memorial. He had a heart attack four days ago. I only just found out. Thought you might want to go see him.”

  His father. The news seared Terence’s heart. All he’d ever wanted to do was forget the man, the same way he’d tried to forget his mother. Marion had her phone number, but hadn’t felt the need to contact her. Neither had Terence. “Why would I want to do that? He means nothing to me.”

  “I’m sure you have questions you want to ask him.”

  Terence wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I never want to see that man again. Or you. Stop pretending to be my family. Stay the fuck away from me.” Terence put the phone back in his pocket.

  “Pirone, I’m this close to firing your ass.” George limped toward him, his lined face a mask of anger. “You show up to work late, take personal calls on the job, and act as if you’re better than everybody else.”

  Terence pushed away from the truck and gazed into the old man’s eyes. “But I do my job well.” Then he walked away.

  Everything he knew, he’d learned in prison. His cellmate, Jack, was a car mechanic who taught him every trick in the book. The duo was often given the task of fixing the prison guards’ cars in exchange for more favorable conditions, and respect.

  “Talk back to me again,” George called after him, “and I swear you’ll be out of here. With that attitude, you’ll end up back behind bars.”

  Terence turned slowly and faced the short, heavyset man. “What are you talking about?” He thought the only reason he’d gotten this job was because he had left out the fact that he was an ex-con.

  “I ran a background check. You thought I wouldn’t find out you’re an ex-con? You’re lucky I’m keeping you here. I’m giving you a second chance. No one else will touch you if you leave.”

  “Bullshit. You’re keeping me because you know you’ll never find anyone who can do what I do.” Terence walked off again before he really lost it. George didn’t follow.

  He fixed another engine, an oil leak, and started on a paint job, and then the day was over. He didn’t go straight to Oasis, even though he couldn’t wait to hold his girl. Instead he drove to the lake, stripped off his clothes, and dove into the cold water. He swam and swam, fighting to wash the images of his old man from his mind. He swam until his muscles burned and his head pounded. When he had enough physical pain to focus on, he got out of the water.

  His hair was still dripping when he got back onto the motorbike and sped toward Oasis. But five minutes before he arrived, he changed his mind and turned around.

  Marion was right. He did have questions for his so-called father. Plus, before the old man kicked the bucket, Terence wanted him to see the man he had become. He was far from the scared, weak little boy he had once been. The coward, as his father had often called him.

  Chapter Nine

  From the door of the hospital room, Terence watched his father lying on the hospital bed. All skin and bones, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. He looked like something out of a horror movie. The o
ld beer belly and tree trunk arms were nowhere to be seen.

  Jack Pirone, the man who had tortured Terence in his childhood, was gone, except for the angry eyes Terence knew so well.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice was raspy and weak, but the steel edge was still detectable. That voice had sliced Terence’s heart open too many times to count.

  Terence stepped farther into the room. Being stronger than his old man triggered an adrenaline rush. He walked to the bed and glared down at him. “I’m here to wish you luck on your way to hell.”

  He’d come to see his father in the hope that he would find a changed man, a man who regretted his actions. But his eyes were devoid of remorse.

  “If you think coming here will change anything, you’re wrong.” Jack shifted in the bed and pulled his gaze from Terence’s. “You have never meant anything to me. Didn’t your mother ever tell you that you were a mistake?”

  Terence formed fists at his side, choking down the need to pounce. Words failed him.

  His father looked back at him, his expression changing into one of satisfaction, and then he laughed and coughed at the same time. “I told her to get rid of you. But did she listen? No. And then she had the nerve to leave you behind when she left.”

  Terence clenched and unclenched his fists, fire eating at his stomach lining. This man, who had always made him feel so small, was still trying to hurt him, even from his deathbed. He hated himself for letting his father get to him. Even as he towered over his father, he felt like the terrified child he once was. “Stop talking.”

  “I heard you went to prison for killing a man.” His father coughed. “I have to say I was surprised to hear it. Never thought you were man enough for murder. You’ve always been a coward.” He coughed again and studied his hand for a while, as if seeing something there. “I knew you would amount to nothing. I was right, wasn’t I?” He paused and drew in a deep breath. “I hope you didn’t drop the soap too often in there.”