“You okay?” he whispers, his voice strained. I know he is forcing himself to be still.
“I’m more than okay. Now move.” I twirl my hips, and we both groan at the sensations we each feel from the movement.
“You’re amazing. You know that, right?” he asks me, though before I can answer, he begins moving, hard and fast.
His lips catch mine in a kiss that feels incredibly powerful, incredibly meaningful. Tears run down my face, mixing with the water that is still pouring over us. My heart swells, my body builds as a mind-blowing orgasm draws near.
Our kiss ends, our mouths gulping in air as he continues pumping in and out of me. After only a few more, I lose it, my scream reverberating off the walls as I let go. Aiden isn’t far behind. He shouts out my name, letting himself go as his seed fills me.
Who knew I would have to wait to be dead to have the best sex of my life?
There isn’t time to talk after that, not that I’m sure I could right now. Luckily, I have more time to compose myself. Aiden, on the other hand, isn’t as fortunate.
As soon our breathing begins to come out at a more normal rate, we hear the doorbell ring from downstairs.
“Damn,” Aiden hisses, his lips coming down for a kiss as he pulls out of me. “That was incredible, and if I knew you wouldn’t be furious with me, I probably wouldn’t bother going downstairs for days. I’m getting rid of them as soon as possible without being rude, and then you and I are coming back to this moment right here, okay?”
I nod, still in a state of bliss. To be honest, I can’t remember why it’s so important that Aiden hangs out with his brother or Flynn. Why can’t we stay up here? I don’t voice my opinion, though.
Before I know it, Aiden is flying out of the shower, grabbing a towel and only halfheartedly drying myself off. I enjoy the show, allowing myself to stay on cloud nine a little while longer.
He smiles at me when he notices my stare, and then seconds later, he runs into his bedroom. I listen to him racing around, grabbing clothes, and quickly putting them on as the doorbell rings again.
I don’t rush, letting the water run over my body for a few more minutes before I shut it off. I grab the towel that I have claimed and slowly dry my body, listening as Aiden runs down the stairs. Soon after, I hear male voices down below.
Once I’m dressed, I move downstairs to settle in for a night of heated looks with Aiden and finding out what it is men really talk about when there are no women around—at least, not any women they know about. However, either Aiden keeps them off the juicy stuff because he knows I’m listening, or men only chat about boring things on their own.
I hear mostly about sports with small bits of their lives sprinkled through. Flynn talks a little about Gemma, which is the highlight of the conversation for me. He mentions he called and apologized, and she has already forgiven him. She even agreed to come see him again in a couple of weeks. Max speaks lovingly of Abby, and this time, Aiden asks all the right questions without having to be prompted by me.
Max and Flynn get along fine, and I have hopes that maybe something like this can continue on a regular basis. Aiden and Max are good people, and they would be good influences on Flynn. He could have people looking out for him, even with me not here. I know I can trust Aiden to look out for him, and it works even better if they can be friends. It won’t feel like such an obligation.
I watch them chatting amicably, laughter often breaking out between them. Aiden nearly spits out his beer when Flynn suddenly decides to ask Max about any tattoos he has.
Aiden was right; the look on Max’s face is priceless. It starts a harmless fight that has Aiden running into the living room, only making it a few steps before Max pounces on him. Flynn stands close by, laughing over their antics before Max reaches out, grabbing his leg and pulling hard enough for Flynn to lose his balance.
“I need to kill you for knowing that, you bastard!” he snaps, receiving an elbow in the side from Aiden.
“I didn’t mention to him about your webbed toes that you’re so weird about,” he gasps, sounding breathless. He winks at Flynn, who laughs again, before Max jumps on top of Aiden and slams his hand over his mouth.
“Shut up, or I tell him I once saw you jacking off to Murder She Wrote reruns!” he yells, dodging a jab to his side from Aiden.
He tears Max’s hand off his mouth and shouts, “Max wore women’s underwear for an entire year!”
While I’m half shocked, half laughing at their admissions, Flynn is beside himself and has tears of laughter running down his cheeks.
“I didn’t know they were women’s underwear! They just said Hanes on them!” Max whines, finally letting Aiden push him off.
“Yeah, but when I finally told you, you still wore them.”
“They were fucking comfortable, all right?” he snaps, pointing his finger at Flynn and appearing stern. “Nothing leaves this room, and if you expect to live, you need to start dishing out some shit about yourself.”
Flynn appears shocked at first, and then his face turns bright red. “Fine. I once dated this girl, and she was into … She wanted to try a threesome, and she wanted another dude. I couldn’t do it, though.”
“Why?” Max asks, a huge smile over his face.
“His junk kept touching me. I wasn’t into it.” As Flynn shivers, both Aiden and Max break out into laughter again.
I, however, feel sick from the mental image that enters my mind. It is an image you never need to think about involving your brother. Ew.
Soon, they are all laughing, Flynn included. I simply enjoy the picture in front of me of two important people in my life smiling and looking younger and more carefree than I have seen since I died. It’s a beautiful image, one I hope I will never forget.
It isn’t long before their laughter dies down, and they are all in various spots on the ground breathing heavily.
Flynn slowly sits up, rubbing his head, which he most likely knocked when he first went down. “So, wait, you jerked off watching Murder She Wrote?” Flynn gapes, and Aiden groans in embarrassment.
“I wasn’t jerking off to that; it just happened to be on when Max, the asshole, with no idea how to knock on a door apparently, entered. I didn’t know or care what was on; I just wanted something to mask any noise I was going to make. I can’t believe I still have to explain myself fifteen years later!”
“Whatever, you totally have a thing for old ladies and typewriters.” Max winks at him, dodging the kick Aiden tries to deliver.
“Fuck off! I think the douche with Mom tattooed to his butt loses this one,” Aiden snaps at Max.”
“I don’t know. Having another man’s junk touching you during sex might be the winner,” Max teases Flynn, who goes red in the face again.
I worry his teasing might be too much for Flynn, but without missing a beat, he has a comeback. “At least the guy’s junk wasn’t covered in pink pubes.”
Max glares at Aiden. “You told him that, too? When did you turn into such a blabbermouth?”
“About the time you announced to our neighbor—who I had a crush on at the time—that I had a thing for women in cardigans who carried around fucking typewriters!”
Flynn howls with laughter again, and they are all quickly reduced to laughing, shouting embarrassing stories. Aiden includes Flynn’s vomiting in his car, making Flynn turn red again.
I feel ridiculously happy with how well the night has gone. Even though there is the promise of some insanely amazing sex once the night is over, I am sad when it has to end.
Flynn appears more lighthearted and relaxed than I have maybe ever seen him since he left to go to college. Even Aiden appears happier, and I’m not sure I can take all the credit for it.
Max hugs Aiden before he leaves, telling him how good a time he had and inviting Aiden for dinner with Abby. He also invites Flynn, which adds to my smile. Aiden didn’t even need to initiate the invite. Max must like Flynn.
I’m practically skipping as Aiden
watches them both drive away. As soon as he closes the door, I jump into his arms, kissing him with unbound enthusiasm. As much as I haven’t seen Flynn so relaxed and happy, I haven’t been this happy in a long time, either.
It’s all thanks to Aiden, too.
I show him my appreciation, just as he makes true on his promise and gets to know every inch of my body. I lose count of how many times he brings me to orgasm. Then I have the most rested and deepest sleep of my life. I have never felt so real and alive as I do right now.
***
Sunday is spent entirely in bed. The only time either of us leave is to get food or go to the bathroom. When Aiden tells me we have to go do the stakeout on the gas station, I do my best to distract him by reenacting the earlier scene from the shower, except I’m not interrupted this time.
I do manage to make us late, but I don’t get us out of going. I’m a little disappointed, though I see Aiden’s dedication as he looks over his notes on Anna Jarvis’s case. It makes me feel a little bad that I was trying to distract him.
Eventually, I play Dad’s tape again, my curiosity building for the woman whose fate is still unknown.
“I’ve now photographed Gerald Rumple with three different women. I’ve never seen him with them twice, and I have been unable to find out their names to interview them. He doesn’t take them back to the home he shares with Lara Stafford, but to a small cabin out in Bakersfield. I haven’t witnessed any abuse; however, I have seen Ms. Stafford with various bruises that appear new. The women he is cheating with do not appear injured, although perhaps a little inebriated.”
He sighs heavily, as though this case is frustrating him. “I have the proof of cheating, which is all Ms. Stafford has wanted, but something feels off about this situation. Something about Gerald Rumple rubs me the wrong way. I’m about to enter Harry’s Bar, which appears to be where he picks up his women, and find out what I can about the women Rumple leaves with.”
The tape clicks off, but then clicks back on quickly, music and voices now in the background.
“You’re the bartender here most nights?”
“Yeah, I work most of them. What’s it to you, honey?” A breathy voice comes through, the distance a little too far away to really hear her clearly. I imagine Dad is recording her without her realizing it, and he is trying to hide the recorder.
“I wonder if you have seen this man in here before.”
There is a pause before the woman responds. Sadly, her answer is too quiet for the tape to make out.
“How about the women he hangs out with? Do you know any of their names?”
Her voice crackles through, and this time, it is much clearer, as though she might be leaning closer to Dad.
“Listen, I pass him the drinks, and he passes them to the women. I don’t have time to watch over them all and make sure nothing shady happens. My friends and I always have a rule we stick to: do not drink a drink you never saw poured. I’m not saying it’s right, but if a strange guy offered me a drink like that, I’d say hell no. It’s one thing to have a guy buy them a drink and I give it to them, but another thing entirely when the drink has been in the hands of a stranger who probably wants them wasted.”
“So, you believe he is drugging these women?” Dad sounds horrified, and since he’s been documenting these women leaving with Gerry, I can understand why.
My stomach churns with bile for what these women might have endured.
“I don’t have proof, but I noticed that, while most don’t appear interested at first, after a drink, they seem to change their tune. They have never come back in here complaining about what happened to them, but to be honest, I never really see most of them again. That to me speaks volumes. Why are they avoiding my bar? Are they afraid to run into him again?”
“That bastard. If I’d known…”
“Listen, I could be mistaken. I’ve watched him a few times and never seen anything shady. He’s even left with a few women he didn’t buy drinks for. I might be barking up the wrong tree, and perhaps he’s a shitty lay. The women might avoid this place in case he tries it again. The guy has a big bark, so it makes sense that he’ll have a little bite in the bedroom, you hear me?”
“I wish we couldn’t,” Aiden mutters, his gaze focusing on a car that is actually pulling into the gas station. It’s the first time we have seen a customer here at night.
Aiden reaches under his seat, grabbing a large camera with a long lens.
“Do you know any of the names of the women he’s left with? I’d like to speak with them if possible.”
“I’ve seen him leave with a couple of women I used to know from college. One is Felicity Sigs, and another woman is Bridget Wang.”
“Do you know where they live now?”
“No, sorry. Like I said, I only knew them from college. I dropped out three years back, and as I said earlier, I haven’t seen them around here since. Neither were regulars, though.”
“Okay. Thank you for your help.”
There is a rustling noise, no doubt the recorder knocking about in wherever Dad has it hidden, and then it eventually clicks off.
Aiden is clicking away with his camera, and then he reaches down and pulls out his laptop, loading the photos onto it. As soon as they come up, he begins running the three men’s faces through the police program he has set up, with dots over the men’s faces.
I lose interest a little in Dad’s tapes as he has more conversations with patrons who all say they don’t know the man.
I stare at the three men who are speaking with the store owner. He doesn’t appear surprised to see them and doesn’t even appear alarmed when they move behind the counter and out to the hidden part behind where I assume is meant for staff only.
“That’s fishy,” Aiden mutters, watching them disappear from view, as well.
“I’ve spent three days searching for Felicity Sigs and Bridget Wang, and have come up—”
“Shit, all of those guys have warrants out on them. They’re big time drug dealers. Fuck!” Aiden hisses, turning off the tape to grab his radio.
I watch in tense silence as he radios for backup and then jumps out of the car, opening his trunk and placing a bulletproof vest on with large words on the front and back saying POLICE.
“You’re not going in there on your own, are you?” I whisper, as if my voice might be heard from across the road. It doesn’t matter that only Aiden can hear me. I can’t jeopardize him by making a wrong move, even if there isn’t the possibility of me making one.
I’m suddenly terrified that I might lose him. Why the hell does he have to have such a dangerous job?
“No,” he whispers back, moving back into his car to apparently wait. He doesn’t have to wait long. Three men all dressed in black with swat written over their bulletproof vests emerge around us perhaps twenty minutes later. They all get into his car, silently closing the doors. I sit in the middle, my butt uncomfortably sitting over the gap between the driver’s seat and the passenger’s.
Aiden explains to them what he knows, showing them the photos he has taken. Then they quickly decide on a plan, which is relayed to the men who stayed behind. When I glance out the window, I see a dark vehicle hiding in the shadows half a block up the road.
Thankfully, Aiden is told to hang back, and he doesn’t argue.
Eight swat officers in total swarm the gas station. Aiden stands back by the doorway until three gunshots ring out before there is silence. Then he rushes forward with his gun drawn, looking ready to take on anyone.
I’m half turned on by the sight of him and half terrified something might happen to him. At least he has me for another set of eyes, and I’m determined to stand in the way of any bullet to save him. There is no need for any heroics, though.
The swat officers have all three men on the ground, only one is bleeding from his leg, and the store owner is shaking like a leaf in the corner with an officer aiming his weapon at him.
The officers are slow moving, arrest
ing the three wanted men. They leave the store owner to Aiden. The man appears so terrified he immediately begins sobbing, admitting that one of the men had killed Anna Jarvis after she stumbled on a drug deal going down. He tells Aiden he had no choice other than to lie to him and the other officers, but it doesn’t stop Aiden from arresting him and taking him to the station.
It’s six a.m. before he is finished. After a pat on the back from his captain, he leaves for home where we both collapse into his bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms on top of the covers with our shoes still on.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Aiden
Thea and I don’t wake up until late afternoon. Though I can get away with not going into work, I can’t stand the thought of having an entire day and doing nothing on Thea’s case. Therefore, after being force-fed a sandwich, I’m at my desk at Headquarters, going back over the few names that haven’t been crossed off.
I notice Thea has added two names to the bottom of the last page.
Felicity Sigs and Bridget Wang.
I vaguely recall the discussion Thea’s dad had with a bartender, but I was only paying half attention as I realized the gas station was about to get some action.
I type in Felicity Sigs first, and immediately find a missing person’s report filed, one that is almost twenty-one years old. It is dated several months before Eric took on Lara Stafford’s case. Searching for Bridget Wang also results in a missing person’s report. This one is only dated one month before Eric took on the case.
I make phone calls to the families listed on their files and discover both women are definitely still missing. However, when I ask if they know of a man named Gerald Rumple, they have no memory of ever hearing the name. I’m not sure if this means anything or if I have another Audrey Hines on my hands. Although, what are the odds that these two women are also hiding from their overprotective families?
I look through Eric’s notes and find the name of the bar where he questioned the bartender yet discover it has unfortunately been demolished. The likelihood of finding the bartender now is slim to none, especially since her name is nowhere to be found in the file. What’s more, in that line of work, it is often cash in hand; as a result, there will most likely never be a way to track her down.
Haunted Love Page 24