Never Give You Up (15 page)

“No, and I trust those three people with my life. There’s got to be a leak somewhere. I don’t know what to think, but I need to get some answers.” Terry looked over at the phone on the bedside table. “Which reminds me, I haven’t called my father since I got here. So much for a peaceful vacation.” He slid across the bed and picked up the receiver.

Mary pretended not to listen as he made a collect call.

“Hello Wanda,” Terry said in a hushed voice. “Can my father take a call? I see. Yes, I’m all right. I don’t want to say too much. Is dad all right?” His voice cracked. “What happened?”

Terry’s shoulders slumped as the woman spoke on the other end. Mary stared at his back, wishing to comfort him somehow, but she was confused and afraid of what happened today that she did nothing but stare at him in terrified silence.

She wasn’t used to this. What she knew consisted of keeping the homestead running, not dodging bullets.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can.” He hung up the receiver and sat as still as a board, staring at the phone, a vacant expression on his face.

After a long while, Mary reached out to touch his shoulder, but when he stiffened she immediately pulled away. “Is everything all right?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He pushed off the bed and grabbed his jacket off the floor. “Stay here. I have to go out for a minute.”

Mary didn’t get the chance to argue before he stormed out of the room. She stared at the door for a few seconds before she jumped up and went to the window. Discreetly, she fingered the curtain open and saw him pass the bright hotel sign before his body blended into the darkness along the sidewalk. He was heading back to town, pace quick and sure.

Without second thought she decided to follow him.

He seemed fine until he spoke to that Wanda woman. Was she a family member, or his lover? The brief conversation seemed to be about his father. There were too many questions swimming in Mary’s mind, she couldn’t help following him down the dark sidewalk, stalking him like a crazy woman. If he thought he could walk away without some kind of explanation, then he was dead wrong.

Terry McCoy came to her for a safe haven, and in return they were shot at and apparently now in hiding.
What the hell should she do, sit around and wait to be killed by somebody?

No more sitting around waiting for anything.

Mary kept a safe distance back as Terry walked past a few buildings then opened the door to a pub. She blew out a deep breath and shook her head. Apparently the news he received made Terry want to lose himself in a drink.

She approached the window and stared inside.

There he sat, hunched over and alone at the bar counter, shooting back one after the other like his life depended on it. The news must be something terrible for him to pound back that many shots in such a short time.

She sighed and looked around the interior. She didn’t really want to go in, especially how the townsfolk treated her, but right now it seemed like all they had were each other. Might as well join him and discover what he heard over the phone.

Mary entered the bar and looked around. A young couple sat at a corner table while a group of men enjoyed the pool tables on the other side. She fixed her gaze on Terry’s back. He didn’t even look at the door when she walked in.

She took another deep breath and approached him. Her chest felt so tight she thought she might crack a rib.

“Can I join you?”

He looked up with the saddest face she’d ever seen. He nodded and pointed to the bartender to serve her the same. Mary pulled out the stool and took a seat, unsure how to talk to him. Maybe silence was best, or maybe he’d talk when he was ready.

He lifted his shot glass and she did the same. With a clink they shot back the booze. Mary’s eyes widened as the cheap vodka seared a path down her throat. But she refused to cough or cry or slam her palm down on the counter. Instead she made a disgusted face and tried to ignore the burn of tears in her eyes, never mind her poor throat.

“Vodka.”

“I know,” she choked. “I think they replaced it with turpentine.”

He didn’t laugh at her poor attempt to lighten his mood. “A few more of those and you’ll be fine,” he said without looking at her.

She stared at his white-knuckled grip on the glass. “As fine as you?”
Shit.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

He stared at her then, eyes narrow, darker blue. “I guess I deserved it.”

Mary leaned close and whispered for his ears only. “Are we gonna talk about your phone call, or get drunk and pretend everything is wonderful and you didn’t kill a man after an insane car chase?”

He turned his attention to the row of liquor bottles lining the wall behind the counter. The huge mirror behind reflected the dim atmosphere of two lost people. He responded in a low voice. “I never wanted this life, you know. Too much is expected of me and not once have I ever had time to live and relax and be a normal guy. Every day I have to watch my fucking back. Every day I have to answer to the old man.”

Mary didn’t know what to say so she simply listened. Sometimes silence is a better answer.

Their glasses were refilled but she decided to wait for this one. Terry shot his back right away, his gaze still focused on the row of liquor bottles. The bartender moved to the far side of the counter to attend other customers. Once he was out of earshot, Terry continued, “My mother died of a heart attack when she saw my father’s pigs eat a man.”

Mary felt her face turn ashen as her heart sank. She grabbed the shot glass and took it down in one gulp. She grit her teeth and gripped the counter, sickened and disgusted by the image his words portrayed.

“What she didn’t know was that man planned to kidnap and torture me to get money out of my father. I was fifteen.”

Mary stared at him but said nothing. What could she say? I’m sorry your mother died but I’m glad you weren’t taken? No words seemed appropriate.

“All this shit is normal, you know. Rival dealers. Kidnapping. Torture. You name it. Even prostitution.”

Mary swallowed, not understanding any of it, and not really wanting to hear it. For a short while it seemed they had their own little world at her place. Now she was suddenly thrust into his crazy, shattered life.

What the hell am I doing?
She turned her attention back to the two of them reflected in the huge bar mirror. Terry didn’t see her watching him. His expression became withdrawn, defeated, that it hurt her physically to see him look this lost. She wanted a normal life, but she was tired of hers. Did it mean she was just like him?

“Gabe’s father and my father were old school chums. When Gabe’s dad died in a plane crash hauling supplies to a camp up north, my father promised to watch over his boy who never knew his mother. Gabe’s been like my brother since I was a teenager. We’ve done some things for my father that would put us behind bars for life. I’m surprised we’re still alive, actually.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

He stared down at his empty glass. “Because I want you to know I’m not a monster by choice. I was made this way.”

Compelled to comfort him, Mary reached out and rubbed his shoulder. Muscles tensed under her grip. Tears filled her eyes by his heartfelt words. She wanted to say something to help ease his burden. “Maybe you were before, but you can choose to change now.”

He exhaled a loud, shaky breath. “It’s not that easy.”

“Yes it—”

His voice hardened. “No. You wouldn’t understand.”

Mary stiffened. His demeanor had changed in a flash and now she feared he might hit her.

Terry must have noticed her withdraw and his face softened. “I’m sorry. I . . . I’m just tired of all this. I’ll never hurt you—ever.”

Mary nodded, not quite sure what to say.

The bartender returned and Terry nodded to refill the glasses. Mary covered the top of hers with her hand. “Can I have a beer instead, please?”

The bartender chuckled and went to grab a cold one. While he was preoccupied in the beer fridge, she leaned close and placed a kiss to Terry’s cheek. “You’re not a monster, Terry. I know what a real monsters is, and he’s dead now. I’m convinced Gabe killed him, and honestly, after everything Tom did to me, I’m learning to accept it.” She sighed and sat back on her stool. “I mean, maybe he didn’t deserve to die, but maybe it happened for a reason. Maybe he wasn’t meant to stay on this earth. I don’t think I ever would’ve had the nerve to leave him.”

Terry’s eyes locked on hers, but he said nothing. If the timing was right or not, it didn’t matter, for when he leaned close and kissed her lips gently, as if she’d shatter, Mary wanted to melt on him. She’d had enough bad experiences not to feel the need for something good amidst all the bad. She knew he felt it too.

Then and there, on that bar stool, she decided she was ready. She wanted to step out of her shell and feel something good. She didn’t care if Terry was a criminal.

“Take me back to the room, Terry,” she whispered against his lips. “We’re going to finish what you started. You can burn the jeep tomorrow.”

His eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

She pulled back with a shy smile. “Yes.”

The bartender returned with the beer, but she motioned not to bother. Terry stood up and placed a few bills on the counter. “Thanks, man, but we’re heading out.”

Ignoring the rest of the patrons, Mary hooked her arm in Terry’s and they exited the pub. Her heart pounded. Her legs shook. But no matter how terrified she was by her choice, she knew it would happen. It had to. Beyond all reason, beyond all doubt, she wanted him.

As soon as they were outside, Terry turned and pressed her against the outer wall. His lips claimed hers, hard, desperate, while his hands trailed up her sides. The rough exterior of the building scraped against her back, but she didn’t care.

The urge to feel him inside her went beyond desperation. Too much time had passed since she felt such passion—such raw need to be taken by a man.

The walk back to the hotel was quick. As soon as they entered the room, Terry threw his jacket toward the coat rack. It landed somewhere on the floor. Neither of them cared as he backed her up toward the bed, both panting and eager to be naked. Once her legs hit the foot of the bed, Mary sat on the edge and wrapped her arms around his waist.

She closed her eyes, soaked in his warmth.

Fueled by something she couldn’t control, she pressed her cheek to his stomach. Desperately, she unzipped his jeans as Terry pulled off his t-shirt and chucked it aside. She kissed and licked the hard planes of his stomach as she pulled his jeans and boxers down. He stepped out of them and kicked them aside as well.

This was just sex. Hard, desperate sex between two consenting adults. No strings attached. No hard feelings. Only pleasure amidst the pain.

As his fingers caressed through her hair, Mary worked her way down, trailing her lips around his navel, then further down. She gripped his thick shaft in hand and pumped him gently at first.

He let out a deep moan and pushed his hips forward as she wrapped her lips around his head and tongued the tip.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his fingers gripping her hair.

Mary’s heartbeat kicked into overdrive as she took him in her mouth and sucked deeply, urgently, loving how he filled her so deep. Back and forth she impaled her mouth on him, enjoying the raggedness of every breath he took, feeling the pulsing rush between her legs every time her throat muscles contracted. Knowing what she did both excited and pleased him, fueled her hunger even more.

She stroked his shaft while she circled her tongue around his head, shamelessly paying attention to the little slit on the tip that made him tremble. Terry’s hands slid down her sides as he leaned forward to pull her shirt up. She knew he had trouble keeping control while her mouth was on him, and she liked having that power. As she pulled back and lifted her arms, he pulled her shirt off and chucked it aside. Next he unhooked her bra and flung it away.

With a rough moan, Terry leaned closer and gently pulled her head back to kiss her hard. She moaned as he palmed her naked breast, her nipples becoming hard as stones, tingling with every touch of his fingers while he tweaked and pinched her to madness.

“Lay back.”

Mary gazed up at him in a sexual trance and lay back on her elbows, watching hungrily as he unzipped her jeans and peeled them off her legs. Her gaze traveled down to his dick hanging hard between his legs before he kneeled onto the bed and leaned down to kiss her thighs.

He kissed her wet lips. She closed her eyes and moaned, letting her head fall back. It was gritty and dirty and oh, so good. As his big hands gripped and kneaded her soft flesh, she raked his scalp with her fingers, holding him there. Urging him to taste her, begging him to please her. He tongued her slit for long agonizing minutes and when he flicked his tongue over her sensitive clit and further down between her slick lips, Mary’s hips arched off the bed.

“
Oh
.”

Her thighs trembled as he sucked her clit while his tongue delved deeper to the very core of her body. Every hot flick of his tongue drove her closer and closer to climax. But as she reached the edge of an exquisite rush, Terry pulled away and positioned himself between her legs. Mary shamelessly pressed against him, wanting him there, wanting that release, while he stared down at her and stroked himself. He nudged her wet folds, parting them, teasing her to accept him.