Possessed by a Stranger (14 page)

Garret felt like he lost the game over the
possession of the paintings. Where was the usual elation he felt
over a win? This feeling was ridiculous since he got what he came
after and hadn’t paid a penny. He opened her trunk almost hoping to
find it empty so he could continue the battle. He checked the box
verifying the paintings were inside. After he placed the box in his
trunk, he pushed down on the trunk lid. He remained with his hands
resting on the top of the trunk. He missed something prudent in
this scenario and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Damn, her keys needed to be returned but that
would mean facing her disapproval. Why that bothered him, he wasn’t
sure, but it did. Pops had asked him to come to her house to give
her a ride. Thanks to his temper yesterday, she wasn’t coming to
see him today or maybe ever. He knew why that nagged at his gut. He
deprived his grandfather of someone that brought him pleasure
during his last remaining days.

Garret walked toward the cottage, turned
around, returned to his car and leaned on the side of his car. What
had he missed? His options to correct the mess he created were
limited and for the most part sucked. In any other similar
circumstance, he would leave her keys in the trunk, and then drive
home with his prize. Unfortunately, she was an important part of
the prize as far as his grandfather was concerned and his starving
dick. Walking away from her wasn’t a viable option. He had to have
his fill, satisfy his curiosity before he could wipe her out of his
mind and move on.

He walked back to the cottage. He pounded on
her door. She opened the door, keeping her hand on the door knob.
She blocked the door way, holding out her hand for the keys. If she
didn’t have him by the balls he would have pushed his way inside.
Just to prove how ridiculous her attempted blockade really was. He
dropped the keys in her hand.

“I would do anything for that old man. He
wants to see you. Would you please come back to the house for him?”
If she refused she would find herself in his arms.

Garret Presley was a man of many faces. She
had seen the seducer, the lover, the poor loser, the family
defender, and now, surprisingly, a man with a heart. She knew she
should go to the house for the elderly Mr. Presley. She enjoyed
hearing about her relatives. Pops wouldn’t be on this earth much
longer. His memories would die with him, along with any chance she
had of learning about her heritage first hand. Setting aside her
apprehension of Garret, Hannah relented to his invitation. With
Louise’s journal in her hand, she shut her door.

Garret followed her down the walkway opening
her gate in a gentlemanly fashion. When he opened the passenger
door of his car she walked past, toward his home. “No thank you,
I’ll walk. It’s safer.” Hannah wasn’t about to get trapped anywhere
with him. She agreed to see his grandfather, not him, especially
not alone.

So, she had a stubborn streak. She caved on
the paintings, which proved she wasn’t that mad. His car faced the
opposite direction. He drove to the nearest area that enabled him
to turn the car around. Slowly driving behind her, he watched her
hips sway, remembering their soft firmness in his hands. Having her
back in his bed topped his want list with the rest of his quests
completed. Her fiery mood heightened his desire. Tonight was a good
a night as any to have his postponed play date. Garret lowered his
window as he drove the car beside her. She glanced his way out of
the corner of her eyes before walking faster.

“Hey sexy, need a lift?” She was going to
need some coaxing. His memory served as a reminder, she was worth a
little effort. “I’m a safe driver. Give me one good reason why you
won’t get in the car.”

Hannah abruptly stopped with the smug
amusement in his voice grating on her nerves. She relented on the
paintings but she wasn’t included in the agreement. He slammed on
the brake. “I’ll give you two.” Hannah extended her arms toward him
with the journal in one hand. She glared accusingly point blank
into his eyes. Hannah resumed her walk, not waiting on a response
or reaction

His teasing was less amusing as he stared at
his handprints bruised into her arms. He had never intentionally
hurt a woman in his life. The reddish blue marks on her silky skin
told a different story. Garret shifted the gears into park, leaving
the door opened as he took several strides to catch her. He placed
his hand on her shoulder. She jerked it off as she turned to face
him, taking a step back. He had missed the glint of fear hidden in
her angry demeanor. The look on her face twisted a queasy knot in
his stomach. Fear blatantly clashed with her angelic face. She
should be protected not harmed in any way.

Garret extended his arms with his palms
pointed upwards. “May I see?” He asked cautiously. Hannah tilted
her head, staring into his eyes with a wary scrunch in her
brows.

She felt tiny in the shadow of his towering
presence with the memory of her helplessness fresh on her mind. The
honest concern in his eyes gave her courage knowing he could
effortlessly force her to comply. She placed the journal under her
armpit raising her arms just out of his reach.

He took a small step, gently sliding his
hands under hers. Damn, she flinched tightening the knot in his
stomach. With a loose grip he turned her arms to assess the damage.
Those were his handprints embedded in her flesh. He remembered
being furious and pinning her down. He had underestimated his
strength. No, he hadn’t cared at the time. With his family in
danger he had demanded answers at any cost. He not only scared her,
he actually hurt her. His stomach churned nauseously. His anger
turned inward pointed at his appalling actions.

With honest conviction in his sickened heart,
he made a solemn promise he knew he would keep. “Hannah, I swear on
my grandfather. I will never hurt you again.” Garret dropped her
hands and walked to his car. The look on her face invaded his mind
with an onslaught of guilt. He couldn’t shake the odd feeling that
ached in his chest. He shifted his car into drive. He drove passed
her with his gaze focused forward. He wanted to blame her for being
at his house. That theory wouldn’t hold water if he believed she
didn’t know he was a Presley and unfortunately, he did. The damn
knot tightened.

Slightly disorientated by his reaction and
hers Hannah continued her walk. Garret seemed genuinely shocked to
see the bruises he caused. What did he think would happen as he
squeezed the blood out of her arms? His promise was worthless if he
couldn’t control his temper and words didn’t make the bruises
disappear. Her arms still tingled from the gentleness of his steely
hands. Distance … distance … distance … she reminded herself. Those
were the same hands that caused the bruises in the first place.

Hannah rang the doorbell still not sure this
visit was a good idea. Under any other circumstances she never
would have agreed to be anywhere within a fifty mile radius of that
man, let alone, in his home. She couldn’t contribute her irrational
behavior to some subconscious need buried deep in her mind. No, her
dying thirst to be loved was always in full view of her mind’s eye
and she felt the empty hole in her heart with each lonely beat. So
what, if she was looking for the missing piece of her life in dead
relatives. Her whole family was gone so there wasn’t anywhere else
to look. She had pondered her obsessive quest to learn about her
heritage. Her loveless childhood had left some serious scars. As
asinine as it seemed, it didn’t change the fact, she was searching
for an explanation for her parents’ inability to love her. She
wouldn’t ever find anyone to love her as long as she felt like an
accidental pregnancy, a burden, an obstacle in her parents’
otherwise perfect lives. She hoped the elderly Mr. Presley would
help her find the answers she so desperately sought to fill the
void in her heart or she wouldn’t be standing in front of Garret’s
door now.

The door opened after the first ring of the
doorbell. “Garret said you were right behind him. You should have
ridden with him.” Mrs. Presley waved her inside.

“I love the walk and fresh air. I brought
Louise’s journal to read to Pops.” Her nervousness eased with
witnesses present. She assumed Garret wouldn’t dare get out of hand
in front of his parents.

“Garret’s with him now giving him the
paintings. Thank you for loaning them to us. Do you want to go on
upstairs or do you have a few minutes to visit?”

Well surprise, he told them about the loan.
She suspected he would have taken full credit. “I don’t want to
interrupt their time together. I have plenty of time today. My
contractors have the day off with only a few odds and ends left to
do. It’s such a relief not to have to baby sit a bunch of men.”

“I know what you’re going through. The gazebo
needed repaired last year. I thought I would pull my hair out
before it was finished. Come on in and meet Mr. Presley.” She led
Hannah into the sitting room.

Mr. Presley sat with a newspaper spread out
on his lap. There was a distinct family resemblance between Garret
and his father. The Presley genes were dominant with very little of
his mother evident in Garret. “How exactly do you make a living
buying things on the internet? You’re not opening up a business at
that cottage, are you?”

He hadn’t waited to be introduced obviously
knowing her identity. Hannah held a new level of respect for Mrs.
Presley living with three dominant male Presley’s and maintaining
her sanity.

“No sir, my business is on the internet. It
may fly over your head in cyber space but you won’t have to look at
it in your front yard. I have storage buildings in the city. All my
purchases and deliveries are handled there. I make enough to get
by.”

Having heard the doorbell Garret left his
grandfather to check and make sure it was Hannah at the door. He
wouldn’t have blamed her if she had turned around and went back to
her cottage after his regrettable actions. He located her in the
sitting room with his parents. Walking over to Hannah’s chair he
rested his arm on the back. The bruises on her delicate arms
taunted him, filling him with guilt. The wrenching knot in his gut
reaffirmed his conviction never to hurt her again.

“Don’t let her fool you. Hannah runs a
lucrative business with virtually no overhead. She’s one of the top
antique dealers in the country. She can get you just about anything
you want.”

“Really, I didn’t realize you dealt with
antiques. I’ve been looking for a piece to go under that mirror.
I’m not sure what I want. Maybe you could help me decide.” Mrs.
Presley pointed to area of the room holding the mirror.

If he thought drumming up business with his
parents would buy her forgiveness, he was mistaken. “I would love
to. I have a couple of pieces that would fit perfectly with the
room already in my inventory. I’ll bring the portfolios the next
time I come.”

“You keep portfolios on furniture?” Mr.
Presley’s question left little doubt that a portfolio on furniture
was the most ridiculous notion he had ever heard.

“Yes sir, I do. Many handcrafted pieces were
replicated when the industrial revolution made it possible to mass
produce items. Although their age gives them some value I only deal
with originals. I research every piece and verify its authenticity.
Being a small business I concentrate on the biggest profits and
it’s paid off well.”

“Very impressive. That’s always been my
motto. Why buy the egg when you can get your hands on the chicken?”
Straightening the newspaper on his lap Mr. Presley smiled.

Her sweet aroma drifted into his nostrils
standing so close to her. Her being in his home was a complication
he usually avoided. He kept his sexual escapades private to protect
the integrity of his family. But here his newest interest sat
talking to his parents. This was a sign to walk away which he knew
he would ignore. Somehow, someway, Hannah had gotten under his
skin. She was an itch he had to scratch.

She easily won over his parents. He had
better get her out of here before they offered to adopt her. His
mother regretted not having a daughter and Hannah wasn’t going to
fill that empty spot. He had other plans for her.

“I’m going to steal her away from you. Pops
wants to see her. He’s sure she’s the key to finding the treasure,
now that he has the paintings.” He goaded his father knowing how he
hated any mention of the treasure. His father could show some
leniency in tolerating Pops’ last fantasy.

“I told you those damn paintings were going
to start this crap all over again.” Mr. Presley growled at
Garret.

“Give it a rest Dad. It’s not like he’s going
to go dig up the yard.” He laughed and winked at his mother.

Mr. Presley pointed his finger at his son.
“No he’s got you to dig for him. If I see you out there with a
shovel, I swear, I’ll shoot you.” Mr. Presley laughed heeding his
wife’s warning glare. “She’s a smart one Garret. You might have to
watch out for this Abernathy.”

He intended to watch out for her, for sure.
Every move she made to deter him just stimulated his interest. So,
she lived at the bottom of the lane, too close for comfort to his
family. His dad didn’t care who he fucked as long as it didn’t make
the news. His mother turned a blind eye to the parade of women
passing through his life. Of course, he protected her from the
truth of his encounters. She encouraged him to date as many as he
needed until he found the right one. She was clueless as to his
definition of date and it wasn’t the same as hers. He would use the
convenience of Hannah’s cottage to his full advantage. It allowed
him to spend more time with Pops during the day and her at night.
Two birds with one stone, what better way to multitask his
weekends?