I'm Watching You (49 page)

That he’d found that closeness again was almost too hard to believe.

Kristen paused, her fingers stilling on the middle button of her blouse. She could feel the steady pressure of his eyes from the bed. He’d piled some pillows behind his head and sat up against the headboard, his long legs stretched out. She looked over her shoulder and shivered at the heated look in his eyes. „Why are you looking at me?“

His smile was at once sensual and beatific and stole her breath. „Because you’re beautiful. Don’t mind me. Just keep going.“

She looked back down at her blouse, focusing on the buttons, willing her hands not to shake. She needed to tell him.
Now, Kristen
. Instead she concentrated on her clothes, taking them off, hanging them up as was her habit until she stood in nothing but her bra and panties. There was a rustle from the bed and he was behind her, almost scorching her back with his heat. He covered her shoulders with his hands and kissed the side of her neck. She tilted her head to give him better access and shivered again when he ran his tongue down her neck to the curve of her shoulder.

„Cold?“ he murmured.

„No,“ she whispered.

„Mmm. Good.“ His hands capably kneaded the tight muscles in her back, then guided her to the little chair at her vanity. „Sit.“

She sat and from under heavy lids watched in the mirror as he pulled the pins from her hair, knowing that he was creating traditions. One by one the pins dropped to the vanity surface until her hair sprang free. He picked up the brush and ran it through her hair, gently scraping her scalp. Her eyes drifted closed.
It felt so good
.

„Good,“ he said softly. „I’d stop if it felt bad.“

Her eyes flew open and she stared up at him. „How do you do that? How do you make me say what I’m thinking out loud?“

„I think you say it out loud because in your heart you want me to hear it.“ The brush paused and he sobered. „What’s wrong, Kristen? You’ve been so quiet tonight“

Now, Kristen. Don’t be a coward now
. She stood up, slipping around him to shrug into her robe. „I need to talk to you. I need you to listen, because it’s hard to say.“

His brow creased in a frown, he set the brush on the vanity and went back to sit on the bed. „I’m listening.“

She opened the vanity drawer and found the little album. Holding it to her chest, she turned and looked into his very worried blue eyes. „I know about your baby.“

He visibly blanched. „How?“

„Aidan let it slip. He didn’t know I didn’t know. Then your father showed me a picture of Debra right before… You know.“

His nod was jerky, his skin pale beneath the dark stubble on his cheeks. „I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to deceive you, Kristen. I just don’t talk about it.“

„I know.“ She sat on the bed facing him. „I understand.“ She swallowed, then put the album on the bed next to his hip and shot to her feet. He picked it up, looked at the first photo, an infant with tiny red curls and big green eyes. Instant recognition dawned.

„She’s yours,“ he said dully. She said nothing and he flipped to the next photo and the next until he came to the end. „Eleven pictures.“

Kristen’s body was trembling and she couldn’t make it stop. „One at birth and one for every birthday thereafter.“

„She’s pretty.“

„Thank you.“

He looked up, his eyes unreadable. „What’s her name?“

She hugged herself, hoping to control her shaking. „They named her Savannah.“

He nodded, still looking at her. „Where is she?“

„California.“

„So far away.“

„Her parents moved from Chicago when she was four.“

He looked back down at the album and traced ten-year-old Savannah’s smile with the tip of his forefinger. „What did you think I’d say, Kristen?“

She bit her lip. „I don’t know.“

„Did you think I would blame you?“

Hunching her shoulders, she dropped her gaze. „I didn’t know. I blame myself.“

„That I can believe.“ The warmth in his voice made her look up. He opened his arms and she crawled across the bed and into them. „Kristen, honey.“

The tears came then and he pulled her onto his lap. „Oh, Abe, I didn’t know what you’d say. You lost your baby and I gave mine away.“

„No, you didn’t. You gave your baby a chance to have a normal life.“ His hand was on her hair, stroking. Holding her until her tears slowed and his shirt was soaked. „I take it you got pregnant after…“ He kissed the top of her head. „After.“

„I hadn’t planned to tell anyone. Then I missed one period, then two, and I didn’t know what to do. So I told my parents.“

His hold on her tightened. „And they didn’t believe you.“

„An unmarried pregnant daughter was worse than a drunken dead one.“

There was a long, long pause. „I hate your father, Kristen.“

She rested her cheek against the rock hardness of his chest. „So do I.“

Another long pause. „Do you see her? Savannah?“

Kristen’s heart squeezed. „No. We agreed they’d send me a picture every year on her birthday, and if she ever asked about me, they’d tell her that I was young and alone and couldn’t care for a baby.“

„Which is all true.“

„Yes. When she’s eighteen they’ll let her choose whether she wants to meet me.“

„They’re good people, then.“

Her eyes burned. „Yes. And they love her so much.“

„Then you did the right thing,“ he murmured. Carefully he put the album in her nightstand drawer. Then tilted up her chin and claimed her lips in the sweetest, gentlest kiss. Her heart swelled in her chest and when he lifted his head she could only look at him as the words raced through her head.

That’s not all I need to tell you. There’s something wrong with me.

Please don’t mind. Please don’t let it matter.

I love you.

His eyes flashed, brilliant blue. „Say it again. I want to know you mean me to hear it.“

To deny him was never an option. „I love you,“ she whispered.

Roughly he pushed her to her back and followed her down, his mouth taking unquestionable possession of hers, his hands cupping her face, his body insistently thrusting. „Tell me you want me.“

„I want you.“ She did. Throbbing a primal rhythm in response to his passion, her body lifted against him. Her hands clumsily pulled at his shirt until she’d parted it to his waist, touching his chest, shuddering when he groaned.

He stripped away her robe and knelt between her legs, yanking at his cuffs until the buttons popped off. She sat up and holding his gaze, unhooked her bra and dropped it off the side of the bed. He did the rest, getting rid of her panties and his pants, then he stopped. And he stared. And her mouth went dry.

This wasn’t the slow, considerate lover she’d known. He was frantic, shaking, hanging on to his control by a thread. She severed that thread when she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down on her. Their kisses were wild and open-mouthed, lips and cheeks and any piece of skin they could reach until she was vibrating under him.

„Abe, do it. Now.“

And he did, entering her hard and deep, groaning into her mouth when she cried out. He plunged wildly, taking them higher with every thrust into her body. She felt the now familiar tightening of her inner muscles, a miracle after so many years alone, then she fell into the heaven she’d found only with this man, her climax stunning in its strength. But what was the true gift was the expression on his face, the stark beauty of his features as he reached his own peak, the shudder of his body as he spilled himself into her.

He collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he struggled for breath. She stroked his broad back and waited, knowing the instant he came back to himself. He stilled, drew a deep breath. And said the words she’d waited a lifetime to hear.

„I love you, too.“ Then he rolled them to their sides, cup-ping her buttocks and pulling her close so they remained as one.

A long time later, well after she’d thought him asleep, she felt the rumble of his voice against her cheek. „Kristen, I’m sorry. I forgot about protection.“

„It’s all right,“ she murmured.

He didn’t say anything for a minute. „So the timing’s not right?“ he asked, tentatively. She heard disappointment in his tone, faint, but there.

She swallowed convulsively. „No, it’s not right.“

And it never would be.

I’ll never have the child you want, Abe.

She waited for the words to spill from her mouth, wished they would tumble as effortlessly as all the other thoughts had. But Abe was obviously right. That only worked when she really wanted him to hear it. Because this, she didn’t. Not now, not ever.

Saturday, February 28,

9:00 a.m.

She hurt.

It was the first coherent thought Zoe had as she surfaced from the fog that enveloped her.

She was moving. That was the second thought. There was an eerie sense of floating. Then reality began to descend and with it the vile, unbearable images.

Oh, God, I hurt. He hurt me
. She shuddered, remembering the brutality she’d endured at the hands of Drake Edwards. She tried to whimper, but her voice was gone. She blinked, tried to determine her surroundings. There was white. Lots of white.
Maybe I’m dead Please let me be dead
. Death was preferable to Drake Edwards. The movement slowed and she became aware of doors, of passing through doors, then the movement stopped.

„How long before she comes to?“

Nooo
. Again she wanted to whimper, again no voice. It was Edwards. He was here. Dammit. She wasn’t dead.

„Looks like she’s awake now. The drug should fully wear off in an hour.“ The other voice was new.
Who? What drug
? „Until then she won’t move or speak.“

„Good.“ There was satisfaction in Edwards’s voice. She’d heard it often since he’d stolen her from her apartment. „I want her to be able to claw and scream.“

There was silence from the other man and then Edwards’s cruel chuckle.

„You’re not paid to like it. You’re paid to just do it.“

A sigh. „If we take out the padding, they both will fit.“

Padding
? Frantically, she tried to look around, but her head wouldn’t move. She strained her peripheral vision to the left. And her breath hitched.

It was a coffin. She wanted to scream.

„I don’t care how you accomplish it,“ Edwards said. „Just do it.“ His face appeared above her and a wave of nausea threatened to choke her. He smiled, the same predatory smile she’d seen in Conti’s office. When had that been? What was today?

„You asked for an interview with Jacob, Miss Richardson,“ he said mockingly. „Unfortunately, Mr. Conti is occupied this afternoon. It’s his son’s funeral. He has, however, arranged for an alternate interview. Talk as long as you like.“ He moved her head, turning it so that she could see his body to her right. „It’s Emmy material.“

He moved away, laughing softly, allowing her full view of what lay to her right.

Zoe’s heart froze in her chest. It was a body in a black suit. With no face.

It was Angelo Conti. They were going to bury her with Angelo Conti. She screamed and screamed, but the sound echoed only inside her head.

Saturday, February 28,

11:15 a.m.

It was the first time Kristen had been in a Catholic church and she had no idea what to do. Luckily there were a lot of Reagans present, so all she had to do was follow along. There were benches on which to kneel and congregational readings to recite. There was the sacrament of Communion and the thundering organ. There was a priest in full regalia, swinging incense and a gold baptismal font next to which stood a beaming Sean and Ruth.

There was family. So much family it made Kristen’s heart ache. There were also more than a dozen cops in the pews, all carrying firearms. Friends of Kyle, Aidan, and Abe, all there to ensure there was no trouble from Conti or anyone else. Mia came, as did Spinnelli. Todd Murphy was even there, his suit freshly pressed.

Kristen watched as the priest took the baby, smiling into her little face. The deep breath she drew didn’t go unnoticed by Abe at her side. „Beautiful, isn’t she?“ he murmured.

Kristen felt the sting of tears. „Yes.“

„This is where the godparents are recognized,“ he whispered. „Annie is godmother and Ruth’s cousin Franklin is godfather.“

Abe watched as Annie and Franklin took their places. He’d been the first choice as godfather for Jeannette, who was now five, but he’d just gone undercover and couldn’t take full responsibility for his vows. Reagans took their vows seriously, after all. Aidan got to be Jeannette’s godfather and Abe missed out on the joy of watching her grow from infancy to the happy child she was today.

He and Debra had chosen Ruth and Sean as their son’s godparents. Of course they’d never gone through the ceremony. Perhaps they could be called on when he and Kristen christened their first child. Warmed within, he took her hand, squeezed it lovingly.

She looked up at him with a smile that didn’t come close to reaching her wet eyes. She’d been through so much this week. It was hard to know what lurked in the shadows behind her brittle smile. So much pain. He thought of the little girl, Savannah. Thought of the pain Kristen must feel every year when a new photograph arrived in the mail. He knew it. It was the same pain he felt every year when his son’s birthday came and went without celebration. He thought of the night before, how she’d told him she loved him. How natural it had been to love her. He looked down at her profile, felt his body stir. He’d come inside her last night with no barriers between them. She’d been so sure they were safe, that it was the wrong time. He smiled. He was Catholic after all. Half the people he knew got their start during the „safe“ time of the month. Maybe she’d be wrong, too.

He slid his arm around her shoulders, pulled her close. And imagined the day they would stand next to the priest and the baby he held would have tiny red curls and big green eyes. His life had finally begun again. He felt reborn and Kristen was the reason.