I flipped near the end of the book and saw a picture of myself with Gabe, Kass, and my papa. We were in the detached garage area working on my papa’s prized car, the one sitting in a junkyard currently, and I had some grease smeared on my cheek. Gabe and Kass’ bikes were ditched in the grass by the driveway and they were actively listening to my dad explain something as my momma came out to snap a picture. I was the only one who looked up at her and flashed a blinding smile. The boys were completely enraptured by how the car worked. I think that was the moment Kass found out he had an affinity for cars and mechanics. He came by often after that on the weekends to ask my papa if he could teach him more about cars.
I closed the album and took another sip of my wine and looked to see if there was anything else in the box. Shoved in the corner, at the very bottom, was a loose sheet of paper. Curious, I picked it up and unfolded it. It was a drawing I had never seen before. It was me but sitting up against a tree somewhere on the manor grounds reading a book. I looked so enthralled by the book. The front wasn’t signed so I had no idea who drew it. I turned over the drawing and saw a little note at the bottom that read, “Honey, you are the best little sister I could have ever been gifted. You are the glue that holds us all together and we love you so much, Gabe” I had no idea he could draw. I was touched by his attention to detail with the drawing and the tears were forming in my eyes again. I missed my friends. I missed my parents. I missed my family.
Sitting back, I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at the time. It was well after midnight and I wanted to have an early morning combing through the rest of the cabin so I decided to get my drunk ass up and go to bed. Putting the boxes away, I take my now empty second wine bottle into the kitchen and place it by the sink before I make my way back into my bedroom. I put my phone on my charger by my bed and rummage through my bag until I find what I am looking for. Grinning like a maniac, I pull out one of my favorite toys I brought with me. Getting drunk always got me horny and I knew I would need to take care of myself before I even had a hope of falling asleep.
Climbing back in bed and slipping underneath the covers, I slip the red Fingo Nubby finger vibrator on my index finger and start that bad boy up. Immediately, thoughts of the last thing that touched my clit flooded my mind and I gasped out as I closed my eyes, Silas’ face swimming into my vision as I glanced down at him between my thighs as he feasted upon me at my parents' wake. Not even a second later, my eyes fly back open before I can even begin to touch myself. This won't do. This won't do at all. Silas needed to suffer for the constant state of arousal his actions had left me in for weeks now since his little meal between my thighs.
I snatch my phone off my bedside table, common sense flying out the window, as I unlock it and scroll through my contacts until I find Silas King. Pressing the call button without a second thought, I lean back on my mass of pillows and bring the phone up to my ear. It rings. Once, twice, three times. On the fifth ring, I frown as it goes to voicemail. I had expected him to pick up, especially when he saw it was me calling. Pulling back my phone, I look at the time again. It was after twelve-thirty. He was probably asleep by now. An evil thought invades my mind with the phone still connected to his voicemail and I take a gamble that he has it set up for several minute calls. Placing the phone on speaker, I set it on my chest, close enough to my mouth that he would have no trouble hearing me when he got this.
“Silas…” My voice is a breathy moan, full of longing and lust as I begin, slipping my hand down my stomach. I push my hand between the waistband of my cotton shorts, sans panties, and begin to stroke myself for him, closing my eyes as his ruggedly handsome face fills my vision. “I want to play for you. Will you listen?” I purr down the line, and as soon as the vibrator touches the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs, another breathy moan escapes me. In my head, he grins down at me wickedly before he bends down and captures my mouth with his.
“You don’t know how much I wish it were your hands on me instead of my own. Baby, I need you so desperately.” A guttural groan unleashes itself from me as he reaches his hand down between my thighs in the recess of my mind. He slips a finger inside of me, pumping slowly as his tongue fucks my mouth in the same skillful dance I knew he was capable of. My blood begins to heat as the vibrations from the vibrator send tiny shock waves through my clit. My core floods and I moan down the line. “I’m so wet for you, baby. I want you so bad, please.” I gasp out, my please coming out on a long groan full of raw, carnal desire and heat.
“I can feel your fingers inside of me, Silas. Taking what belongs to you. Fuck. Baby, I want you to consume me.” My brain fogged completely over with desire and alcohol; I lose hold over my tongue. I am pushing myself closer and closer to that edge and I knew this orgasm was going to be brutal and fast. I could never really hold myself back with alcohol and add the image of Silas into the mix. I was a goner. “I want you to taste what you do to me again. I want to taste you too. I bet you taste like the most decadent spice. Oh God, Silas.” My back arches off of the mattress as my pleasure builds higher and higher. My legs begin to quake and I hope like hell that the phone was still connected and recording. I wanted him to hear me come apart. Scream for him. Right on that cliff edge, I squeeze my eyes shut and envision him adding a third finger and grinding his palm down on my clit.
“Oh fuck, Silas!” Every muscle in my entire body clenches up as my orgasm crashes into me like an avalanche. A strangled cry leaves my lips and I toss my head back and the vibrator leaves my clit as I clutch at the sheets with both fists, my chest heaving with breath as little currents of pleasure shoot throughout every fiber and muscle. It takes a second for my soul to come back to my body, but when it does, I turn the vibrator off and struggle to catch my breath. Reaching up, I grab my phone that was still miraculously on my chest and still connected. A sated smile crosses my lips as I take it off speaker and bring it to my ear. “That’s what you do to me, Silas Ezra King. What you’ve always done for me. This would have been more fun if you had picked up, big guy. Anyway, thanks for the orgasm. Nighty night.” I slur and I am sure when he listens to this later, he will be able to tell I am drunk.
I hang up and toss my phone back on my bedside table, not bothering to plug it in again. Now that the effects of the orgasm were wearing off, exhaustion was taking over me and I took my best shot tossing my vibrator in my open bag on the floor a few feet away. Unsure if I make it or not, I sink back into the sheets, a soft peace settling over me after today and I can’t help but think that this was another turning point in my life. Reconnecting with memories of the boys and my parents and remembering just how deep our connection ran, despite the betrayal, was something I had needed.
For once, I go to bed without dreaming.
Soft morning light was creeping into my room, coaxing me to join the land of the living. I shifted in bed and stretched and sighed contentedly. My body felt relaxed. No signs of tension like I usually had whenever I woke up while being here in Crimson Valley. I smiled softly and began waking up more. I sat up and looked around my room, I saw the wonderful little toy that I used to help drive Silas crazy and smirked. I grabbed my phone and realized it was dead from my lack of caring to plug it in last night. Getting up, I grab the toy and clean it off and stow it back in my bag and then grab my phone and charger and head to the kitchen.
I always loved mornings in the cabin. The sun lit everything up so perfectly. I set my phone down on the countertop and plugged it in. Grabbing my favorite childhood mug, I set out to make some coffee. While waiting for my coffee to brew I checked the fridge for something light to eat. Settling on a bowl of mixed fruit I sat down and looked at my phone, which was now turning back on. I picked up a piece of strawberry and my eyes went wide with surprise at what I saw. I had eighteen missed calls and twelve unread texts, all from Silas and one from Hawk.
I laughed and set my phone back down to get my coffee and came back and began to look through the texts. Taking a sip of my coffee, I first check th
e unread text from Hawk.
Hawk: What did you do to Silas?????????
Almost spitting out my coffee from laughing, urges me to go read the texts from Silas. I set my coffee down so I didn’t spill it this time and begin with the first one.
Silas: Honey.
Silas: Where are you?
Silas: Woman, answer me.
Silas: Honey, I’m going crazy. You’ve driven me to the point of insanity.
Silas: Okay, please tell me you’re safe. I just DROVE to YOUR house and you’re not even there?? Where would you be at 5am?
Silas: Honey, I have been hard for the last hour. This is not fair.
Silas: Please answer me, Honey.
Silas: I’m at Hawk’s. I didn’t know where else to go. He’s laughing at my current state of condition. This is your fault, Honey.
Silas: You knew what this would do to me.
Silas: You’re slightly evil, you know that, right?
Silas: I don’t even know where you are. I really hope you’re safe.
Silas: I hope you have some Aspirin and water when you wake up.
Silas: You’re okay, right?
Silas: Please tell me you’re okay.
There was nothing for a while after that round of texts spanning from around five to six in the morning. And then after seven-thirty there were a few more from Silas.
Silas: Honey. It’s after 7. Please text me so I know you’re at least okay. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t.
Silas: Hawk keeps trying to reassure me but I feel like something bad is going to happen. Wherever you are, please be careful..
Silas: I know you wanted space and I respect that, if you still want that, I will still respect that. Even if you do call me at almost 1am while getting yourself off and moaning my name.
Silas: I just want you safe and happy, you know that right?
I felt my heart swell with emotion. He cared. He wanted me to be happy. He wanted me to be safe. My phone vibrated as I received another text, this time from Hawk.
Hawk: Hey Honey, please let one of us know you’re okay when you get this. Silas really is worried.
I loved these boys. They may be idiots, but they’re my idiots. I contemplated not texting them just to drive them even crazier, but my bleeding heart held so much sympathy for them. I decided to send one to Silas first.
Honey: I am awake and feeling.. Perfect.
I added a smirking emoji face to really just seal the deal, before sending one to Hawk.
Honey: Tell that big baby to go do something other than bother me.
Chuckling, I drank some more of my coffee and started planning my day.
I was standing in front of my parents closed bedroom door, staring at the mocha brown stained wood and the solid copper handle that was in the shape of a wolfs howling head. Reaching my hand up, I let it hover over the marks on the door jamb to the left of the handle. My parents had marked my height on this very door frame every summer for twelve years. Emotion tries to clog my throat, but I decided I had enough of that last night. I didn’t want to cry and get drunk again on my second day, despite how well last night ended for me. Sucking in a deep breath, I turn the knob before I could chicken out and let the door swing in.
Stepping into their old bedroom was like a shock to my system, like I had already known it would be. It was part of the reason I had refused to clean out their room yet at Locke Manor. It felt wrong. I probably wouldn’t be able to clean their stuff out for a long while. Their room was larger than mine, with a dome like ceiling that had interconnecting beams that made up the Locke family crest, just like in the den. Dominating the whole north wall is all windows with French doors that open out onto a patio in the back of the property that gives a view of sprawling trees and the early morning rays of sun beaming down. It was furnished with only a California king bed built of solid mocha brown stained oak, two armchairs in the corner in front of a massive wood stove with a blood red brick backsplash behind it, and two doors that led off to the closet and the ensuite bathroom. My hand snaps out and I grip the door frame hard as I take in the space that hasn’t changed one bit in the ten years since I last saw it. My attention snags on a rather odd painting above their bed and I frown. My mom was more of a modern photography art collector or she hung up drawings I worked on.
This was a large oil painting of a vibrant orange, red, and yellow sunset over an unknown body of water, the moon barely visible behind the horizon as it waited for its counterpart to sink below the surface of the water so he may come out to play. Squinting at it, something niggles in the back of my mind. Walking closer, I stand at the foot of the bed and stare at it straight on as I racked my brain for why my momma would have put that up there. It hadn’t been there the last time I was here. Something sparked in my memory about the letter I found when I first got here yesterday. Keep your eyes on the horizon… I highly doubt she meant that literally. My momma had left me a brilliant clue.
Excitement surges in me and I am up on the bed before I can think any more on it and I stop in front of the painting. Raising my hands, I run them along the frame and when it sways under my touch, a grin spreads across my face. My momma usually always bolted important paintings to the walls. This one wasn’t. Carefully, I grip the sides of the painting in both hands and lift up on it, unhooking it from its mount and turning to lay it flat on the mattress behind me. Turning back to the now bare wall, I notice a pale, barely visible line in the plaster. It was in the shape of the whole entire painting, but not like it was a stain from the painting sitting on the wall too long and collecting a dust outline.
Bringing my hand up, I take a gamble and press my palm into the center of the wall. With enough pressure, a slight pop sounds through the empty room with me, almost like a seal releasing, and then I am staggering back slightly as the panel in the wall pops open to reveal a hidden compartment that the painting had done a rather clever job of hiding. My momma was an absolute genius. Pulling the panel more fully open, I peer inside but end up having to pull my phone out to turn the flashlight on. There are several file boxes inside and I frown. What was in these that my parents had thought they needed to be hidden like this?
Pulling up the contacts on my phone, I search until I find Des and I pull up his contact information. Hitting the green dial button, I bring the phone to my ear. It rings once before he picks up. “Honey? What-” He begins but I cut him off quickly. “I only have thirty seconds, so please listen carefully. Head north on the interstate like you are heading out of Crimson Valley, towards the lake. Take the scenic route off the interstate before you pass the lake. Follow it down until you find the dirt road that veers off to the left. Meet me inside. Bring your digital scanner.” I hang up before he can speak again. It makes me feel like crap, but I only had a thirty second window if Gabe really was still tapped into my phone. Knowing the sly bastard, he was.
Turning back to the brilliant hidden compartment, I just had a feeling that whatever was in these was going to be life altering in some kind of way. Turning the light off, I reach in and grab the first box I can reach and pull it out. I take it off the bed and set it down on the floor. Setting my phone aside, I sit and start taking out files. The first one I pull out is full of business trade documents between the Daegden’s and some basic corporations around the area in and outside of Crimson Valley, but as I peer closer, I notice they are not originals and they are missing information. I pick one out of the pile in the file and read it over and notice it is missing the transaction number of unknown pharmaceuticals the Daegden’s traded for our local clinic to use for trials on patients with rare forms of cancer.
My brow furrows. Why would the transaction amount be missing on the document for drugs if they were being used for rare forms of cancer in patients around Crimson Valley? That wouldn’t be something that needed to be hidden, right? Also, I notice the name of the pharmaceutical company is not one based out of the state. It was one based out of the east coast in Rhode Island. Setting
this file aside, I reach in and pull out another thick file. When I open it, I find a staggering number of documents related to the school system in Crimson Valley. Some of the documents are showing large withdrawals from public funds out of the Crimson Valley Educational Treasury by Alison Rhodes to offshore accounts but there is no account information and I bet that when my parents had found this information, they had tried to trace her back to the account but were unable to. There are some records vaguely linking hired teachers and administrators at Crimson Valley Elementary, Middle, and High school back to the Rhodes. They hired these specific people. For what? Financial records of bank transfers into these people’s accounts, but the amount is missing.
The next file I pull out is thicker than the others and my brows raise. Opening it, I find a dozen or more documents of financial records and trades between the Finelli’s and unknown parties. The unknown parties have their names missing from the documents but whatever they were buying from these people, was big. That amount was gross, it almost rivaled what my parents had in offshore accounts for me and then some. If the Finelli’s were dabbling in illegal purchases, they had better have a backup plan in case their trade went south because that was a hell of a lot of money to lose, even when you were rich. Flipping through the pile of documents in their folder, my mouth pops open when I come across slightly blurry surveillance photos.
The photos show from an angle where whoever had taken them had a perfect view of Penelope Finelli meeting with a man with several armed guards down at the old warehouse district on the north west side of town where Frankie Newhouse’s Junkyard was also located. I know this because the backdrop behind Penelope is an old plant that was once used for textiles and wood shipping judging by the torn sign on the front of the large brick building. The man Penelope is meeting with in several of these photos always has his back to the camera, but I could tell by the way he was dressed, and the half dozen or so armed men with him, that he was an elite. An immensely powerful, very deadly man that should not be messed with.
Whiskey & Honey: Crimes of Crimson Valley: Book One Page 18