With Extreme Pleasure

by Alison Kent

  “Did you find Malling?”

  McKie nodded. “Right where you said he would be. He paid his fine this morning, called for a cab, then took off on foot when he found out he’d be waiting till noon.”

  Even more stupid than she’d thought. “You heard his call?”

  Fitz’s only response was to cock his head.

  “Where is he now?”

  “Exactly?”

  She gave a quick nod, still avoiding, not yet prepared. She didn’t know if she’d ever be prepared.

  As she looked on, Fitz pulled what she’d thought was a phone from a holster at his waist. It was a phone, but it was also a PDA-sized PC with an antennae capable of picking up wireless her laptop hadn’t even known was out there.

  He used a stylus to scroll through several windows, then turned the screen so that she could see the coordinates on the map. Malling had already left Pennsylvania, was in New Jersey, and all too soon would be in Trenton at Tuzzi’s front door.

  If that was where he was going.

  Cady assumed the boss would want a firsthand report of failures as well as his minion’s success. “Do you have what you need now? Since you know where he is and can follow him, will that give you what you need? When he makes contact with Tuzzi?”

  Fitz shrugged, swiveled the screen back around. “We’re at level wait-and-see. Having a lock on him helps, but it’s no guarantee.”

  “Having more would help?”

  “Having more that’s solid? It would close the deal.”

  Cady sighed. King nudged her. “C’mon, chère. You know it’s the right thing to do. For you. For Kevin. For your folks, even if they’ll never know.”

  She hung her head, stared at her fist. “I’m not as noble as you’re trying to make me be.”

  “Oh yes you are,” he said, and before she could change her mind, she opened her palm, offering her whole world to Fitzwilliam McKie.

  He didn’t say a word, but took the drive and plugged it into a port on his mobile PC.

  Cady leaned against King and the SUV because her knees felt like rubber and her stomach wasn’t doing well holding down the eggs King had scrambled for them at dawn.

  She studied the expression on McKie’s face as he pulled up Kevin’s documents and read through the lists of names, dates, transaction amounts, and other information her brother had obtained no doubt through questionable means.

  But she couldn’t read anything of what he was thinking, and he’d hadn’t said a word while studying the data. What was he waiting for? Didn’t he know what it had taken for her to give up her last connection to her brother?

  She couldn’t help herself or stand not knowing a moment longer. “Well?”

  He closed up the PC and returned it to its leather holster. And then he gave her a bigger grin than she’d known he had in him. “I’m still not stripping.”

  Cady deflated. After all of that? “It’s not enough?”

  “Oh, it’s enough, Cady. Trust me that it’s enough. I’m just not much for going commando in public.”

  King whooped. “Then that’s it, yes? We’re done here. It’s over.”

  “It’s close enough,” Fitz said, leaving an opening King couldn’t resist.

  “Close enough. But it’s not government work, is it, boo?”

  At that, McKie winked, and headed for his car.

  Forty-two

  “Are you ready for this?” King asked, looking out over the same lake where she and Kevin as kids had been sure their fishing hooks would snag the bones of dead bodies, where instead they’d caught bite-sized crappie and thrown them back, where they’d waited for water nymphs to drop their fishing lines into the air and try to catch them.

  Was she ready for this?

  Oh, what a loaded question. Five words that sounded so simple, but were weighted down with so many years of guilt and pain and anger and loss. Fitz had the flash drive, and when Cady’s laptop went into the lake, she would no longer have anything of Kevin to hold onto.

  No, that wasn’t true. She’d have her memories, the same ones that brought a smile to her face even now, a smile that was no less joyful because of the tears she couldn’t hold back thinking of the brother she’d loved.

  Oh, Kevin. I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t have been so stupid. I should’ve had my head in the real world and known no good would come of Edie’s silly prank. All of this happened because I was too wrapped up in myself to think straight. I have no one but myself to blame.

  But even as she had the thought, she heard Kevin chastising her. He was the one who’d taunted Tuzzi with what he knew. And Tuzzi was the one who’d pulled the trigger. Yes, she’d been the catalyst that brought the two of them together, but blaming herself for how things had played out between two hot-headed young men was insane.

  She cradled her backpack to her chest as King cradled her body against his. “I don’t know. I mean, I do know. I am ready. I’m just afraid to think of what happens now. This is all I’ve known for so long. Letting it go means I have to find something else to hold onto.”

  He tightened his hold where his arms were wrapped around hers, but he didn’t say anything in response. She wasn’t sure that she wanted him to. He might tell her to hold onto him. He might say she needed to stand on her own.

  He might tell her any number of things she didn’t want to hear, or wasn’t ready to hear, or would die if she had to hear. He was so much more pulled together than she’d managed to do for herself in twenty-nine years.

  The truth was, she had to work out this new chapter of her life on her own. She knew that, which she supposed was one positive mark in her favor. And King, having done the same to get where he was, knew it, too.

  “You were right.”

  “About which of many things, chère?”

  “That I should’ve looked at what Kevin gave me. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

  “Sure you do. You were sad. And you were scared.”

  “Scared about what?”

  “Scared that if you looked at it you would quit being sad. That you’d find something that knocked him back to being human instead of this martyr you’d made him. Or maybe the further time got from his death, it became easier not to look because you didn’t want to open wounds that were healing.”

  Everything he said resonated so purely.

  “How come you know so much?”

  “Because I’m an old fart.”

  “You’re not old.”

  “I don’t know much of anything either.”

  “It doesn’t seem that way. You’ve known what to do every time we’ve turned around.”

  “Ah, well, that’s experience, boo. As many times as I’ve been around the block? I damn sure better know when and where to turn.”

  “Maybe I’ll be as wise when I’m as old as you.”

  “Hey, now. I’m the only one allowed to say I’m old. But it’s experience. You know that. And what you’ve been through should be more than enough to keep you turning the way you need to for the rest of your life.”

  “God, I hope so. I can’t go through this on a regular basis.”

  “If McKie follows through on his promises, you won’t have to worry about Nathan Tuzzi ever again.”

  “Making my next life crisis a piece of cake.”

  “You’ve got to get beyond this one first, and I don’t see you letting go of that backpack.”

  He’d buy her a new one, he’d told her. He’d promised her a new laptop, top of the line, all the software she could ever want, a webcam for taking pictures should she get a wild hair and sign up at a dating Web site.

  She’d hit him then, and meant it.

  “If it would help, I’ll be happy to do the honors,” he said, reaching for her bag.

  She shook her head, stepped closer to the edge of the rocky outcropping overlooking the private lake. “I have to do it. I won’t be the one letting go if I don’t.”

  The distance between where she stood and the water below was nothin
g, but it seemed like such a long way down. She knew it wasn’t. She’d jumped from here and cannonballed in, sinking almost to the bottom dozens, maybe hundreds, of times.

  More than once Kevin had landed on top of her, and she’d sputtered her way to the top for more air, adrenaline bursting into her veins like rocket fuel.

  She’d known exactly how far it was to the top, how long it would take, how much of her remaining breath the trip up would steal from her lungs.

  But she’d been scared to death every time, thinking she’d never make it. Just like she was scared to death that she’d never make it now.

  She hooked her fingers through the carry loop on the top of the backpack and began to spin, turning faster and faster, the weight of the bag pulling at her skin, her bones, her muscles, stretching her arm longer and longer, a rubber band, a bungee cord, extending out over the water.

  And then she let go. She straightened her fingers, and the loop slid off, and the backpack went sailing. King caught her before her momentum sent her flying off the rock, too.

  She stood in the crook of his arm and watched her Rock of Gibraltar splat on the surface of the water and sink like the stone it was. No fanfare. No heralding trumpet. No dramatic hesitation. It was there, and then it was gone.

  She caught back a sob, clenched her hands beneath her chin, and watched the ripples spread in circles that grew and grew as if they would never stop. But they did, silencing, lessening, until the surface of the water was broken by nothing more than insects skating along the surface.

  “Well?” he finally asked her after she’d taken a deep breath and exhaled.

  “I think I’ll be okay. It’ll take some getting used to, not having all that weight to cart around.” She looked back over her shoulder, caught him looking down. “You’ll buy me something that’s not so heavy, right?”

  “I’ll buy you anything, everything you want,” he said, and she turned in his arms.

  “No. You can’t buy me anything but this. This one thing. Well, two things counting the bag, but that’s it. I’ll do the rest on my own.”

  “It’s a deal,” he told her, hugging her close as they turned and made their way from the highest point of the outcropping hanging over the lake to the lower spot King had decided perfect for parking his Hummer.

  Walking beside him, she drifted into a peace she hadn’t felt in far too long. She’d thought when looking up at him that he’d wanted to kiss her. She’d wanted him to, but now this was so much better, this companionship, this intimacy that was so much richer and required nothing but having him near.

  When they reached his SUV, she opened the driver’s side door and gestured for him to climb in.

  “Your turn,” she said.

  He grinned from ear to ear. “This is going to be more fun than I’ve had in a while.”

  “Hey. I resent that remark.”

  “Than I’ve had in a while with my clothes on. How’s that?”

  She didn’t say a word, made another sweeping gesture as if ushering him into a limousine. He ruffled her hair as he climbed in and started the SUV.

  The H3 was packed with all the things Fitz had loaded in for them—things that were to see them through their adventure, things neither one of them ever wanted to see again.

  They’d kept out the essentials, a change of clothes and toiletries for the road, but the rest of the supplies—the sleeping bags and cooler of juice bottles and camping gear, even the instant cold packs that had come in so handy—were reminders of the last few days.

  So was the Hummer.

  Cady had argued at first; what a needless waste, especially after the explosion and the accident and all the collateral damage—to the hotel where they’d stayed that first night, to May Wind’s B&B, to Jarrell Bradley’s tow truck, not to mention the loss of Deshon Coral’s life.

  King had argued back. Dumping the Hummer wasn’t a waste if it kept him from spending another minute of his life remembering this nightmare of a trip—remembering anything except his time with her, he’d quickly amended when she’d come close with the fork she’d been holding.

  And now here they were, about to feed the SUV to the fishes, sending it to the bottom of the lake where it would stir up all the bones she and Kevin had tried to stir themselves so many times. She smiled as she thought of her brother’s hook snagging a camp stove or lantern instead.

  “Happy fishing, Edgar,” she said, and stepped away, watching as King wedged the garden hoe he’d sized and cut to fit between the front of the driver’s seat and the accelerator. The tires began spinning, burning, spitting out grass and dirt, the motor whining from being all revved up and restrained.

  And then King shifted into gear, bailing out the door and rolling away from the vehicle as it lurched forward, picking up speed before sailing off the ledge of rock and into the air.

  It hit the water with a sound nearly as loud as the explosion that had destroyed the first of its predecessors. Cady flinched, then watched the water gulp down the SUV in one big slow swallow.

  Once the SUV had vanished beneath the water and the sputtering bubbles had stopped rising, she asked. “Well, boo. How are you going to get to Louisiana now?”

  King chuckled. “I’ve got a plan in the works. It means spending one more night here. Think you can deal with that?”

  After all that he’d done for her, she could deal with anything. She just wished she knew what she was going to do with herself, and if he was going to be with her while she figured it out.

  She nodded. “I can deal. As long as your plan includes my laptop and something to carry it in.”

  “That phone call to Simon this morning? I talked to a man who knows a man who knows his stuff. You’ll be able to web surf your little heart out.”

  Forty-three

  King settled behind the wheel of the Audi convertible that was delivered the next morning along with Cady’s new computer bag and notebook PC.

  He belted himself in, and watched Cady do the same. She lifted her face to the midday sun and closed her eyes, the biggest smile he’d seen from her yet spread all over her face.

  He turned back to look at the dash, his hands tight on the steering wheel. This was where things were going to get sticky, and could very easily go wrong.

  He did not want things to go wrong. Not after all they’d been through.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, boo? Where do you want me to take you?”

  From his peripheral vision, he saw Cady’s head pop toward him like a bobble head doll. “What do you mean, where do I want you to take me? I want you to take me with you…unless…unless you don’t want me there.”

  He wanted her everywhere. He wanted her here and now. But he also wanted her to be sure, because turning around and bringing her back would kill him. “There’s no snow in Cajun country. It’s hot and sticky and steamy. You’re gonna sweat your ass off and more.”

  She blew a long sputtering raspberry. “What, and you think New Jersey’s all ice cubes and lemonade?”

  Nothing against the Garden State, but there were plenty of gardens to be found along the bayou. “There’re no celebrities needing hair and makeup done for photo shoots.”

  “I hate doing hair and makeup. Well, I had fun doing yours, but you’re a special case,” she said, laughing at him way more than laughing with him, especially since he wasn’t laughing at all.

  At least not much. “We’ve got Lee Benoit, and Beausoleil, but no Bruce Springsteen. And we have crawfish. A lot of crawfish.”

  She unbuckled her seat belt then and somehow folded and bent her limber body and crawled into his lap. They were face to face when she told him, “You’re doing a really lousy job of talking me out of coming with you.”

  He looked into her eyes, smiled softly, watching her expression grow wary as if she were waiting for a blow. He wondered what it said that they were both bracing for bad news instead of expecting good.

  Maybe that they were the perfect match he hoped…and why was his
throat closing up? He swallowed, rubbed his hand up and down her thigh, and said, “I just want you to know what you’re in for.”

  She pressed her forehead to his, sighed, kissed him gently, then pulled back, brushing his hair behind his ear on one side and avoiding his gaze. “If you want to put me off, King, then tell me you won’t be there. Or tell me that you’d rather I stay here. I won’t like it, but I would way rather hear you say that now than to hear later that you made a mistake.”

  “I can’t do that, chère. I can never do that.” And then he moved his hands to her face, and ignoring the heat burning wet in his eyes, he kissed her.

  Her mouth was so sweet, and the tiny sounds she made as she tried not to cry even sweeter. He slanted his lips over hers, rubbing, tasting, laughing as he did, as he caught her sobs and told her with his touch that she was not a mistake, that they were not a mistake.

  And then as the kiss ended, he whispered against her mouth, “I love you.”

  That started her crying again, her hands coming up to hold his head as her lips moved from his eyes to his cheeks to his brows. Her tears were wet on his skin, her heart beating so hard her chest nearly bounced through his.

  “Oh, King. I thought you only loved the sex. I thought you were trying to talk me out of coming because you could have fun with anyone—”

  He pressed a finger to her mouth to shut her up. “You thought wrong, chère. You thought so very wrong. I love more than the sex, and I don’t want to have fun with anyone but you, and if you thought I was trying to talk you out of coming with me, it’s only because I wanted you to be sure.”

  “Be sure about what?” she asked, talking against his non-silencing finger. “That I love you? That I want to be with you? That I can’t imagine not waking up beside you every day, ready for a new adventure?”

  He snorted. “If they’re all going to be like these last few days? I can do without the adventures.” Then he paused, frowning as he went back over what she’d just said. “Did you say you loved me somewhere in all of that?”