Senseless (28 page)

Garrison shrugged off his jacket and draped it over a chrome chair, which was part of the dinette set. “Coffee is a specialty of mine.”

“Great.” She moved to the refrigerator. “She’s got cold cuts. Want a sandwich?”

“Sounds good.”

They both worked silently at their tasks and soon sat at the dinette set. For a moment neither spoke but ate, understanding that opportunities to fuel up shouldn’t be bypassed.

“You were right about Lisa’s book. It was a simple code and we broke it easily.” He carefully and deliberately set down his sandwich half. “She says that she met Darius Cross last year.”

“Really?”

“She said they were lovers.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

“He didn’t recognize her at first. When he did he felt duped and got angry. She told him about The Secret.”

“You mean Kristen’s baby?”

“I don’t think so. I’m willing to bet if he knew about the baby, he’d have moved heaven and earth to find it.”

“He put a great deal of stock in blood relations. Blood is thicker than water. Josiah said that several times.” She picked at the crust. “So if not the baby, what secret?”

“I don’t know.” He shoved out a breath. “I also had a fire investigator look at the photos of the sorority house. She doesn’t think the fire started by the hearth but by the back door.”

“I don’t remember the fire starting. I just remember the flames.” She closed her eyes, willing the haze to fade from her mind so that she could remember. “I can’t tell you how many hours I’ve tried to relive those moments. But I always come up blank. Have you talked to Kristen about any of this?”

“Her cell went to voice mail. She’s in New York.”

“She’s got a wedding to plan.”

Garrison let the comment hang in the air. “What kind of relationship did Micah and Josiah have?”

“I happened by a chemistry lab and heard fighting. I poked my head in and saw the two of them going at it. Micah said he wished Josiah had never been born.” She shook her head. “When Josiah lunged for Micah, I screamed and the two brothers saw me. They were furious and told me to leave.”

“When did that happen?”

“A couple of weeks before the end of the semester.”

“You see Micah after that?”

“He caught up to me on campus a couple of days later. He wanted to apologize. He seemed more concerned that I not share what had happened with anyone.”

“Did you?”

“No. What does Micah have to do with any of this?”

“I don’t know. But I can’t seem to get the guy out of my head. He’s not what he seems.”

“That should have been the motto of the Cross family. ”

“What about the kids on campus? Any like or dislike Josiah?”

“Some hung around because of his connections, but I doubt any had great loyalty for Josiah.”

“Can you remember any of them?”

She nibbled on the edge of the sandwich bread crust. “Brad Morgan. He was on the football team with Josiah. Mike Wells. Joe St. John. Those are the faces I remember seeing in the crowd when I sat in the back of the ambulance after the fire. There could be more but I don’t remember.”

“They’d be worth talking to.”

“Why are you digging this up?”

“The killings are all connected to that night of the sorority house fire. The killer has chosen the star for a very specific reason.”

“But Kristen and I are still walking around.”

“Maybe your time hasn’t come yet.”

Kristen was still alive. Lisa had talked about The Secret. Theories that had been brewing inside her, begged to be voiced. “I’m starting to think Kristen set me up.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying her. “Why do you say that?”

“I was always a means to an end to her. I know now she was never my friend. She used me to improve her grades and to get into graduate school. Maybe she used me to get rid of Josiah.”

“There’s no evidence of that.”

“I know. But then she’d have been careful.”

“It’s worth investigating.”

She searched his gaze. “You believe me?”

“Yes.”

He’d spoken his answer clearly and without hesitation. Having him believe in her meant more than she realized. Nervous and anxious to move, she raised her plate. “I’ll clean this.”

He reached out and took the plate from her. His fingers brushed hers and for a minute electricity shot through his body. He stared down at her and for an instant the sudden urge to touch her hit him like bricks.

She released the plate but didn’t move to step away from him or avert her gaze. This close he could feel the heat from her body. Christ, he needed to get a hold of himself. As much as he wanted to touch her right now, he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Too many had taken from her and he’d be damned if he’d join the list.

“I’m not made of china,” Eva said. “I’m pretty tough.”

“I’ve no doubt.”

“You want to kiss me.”

“I do.”

And she wanted to kiss him.
He believed her.
She took the plate from him and set it on the counter. “Then kiss me.”

“Not a good idea.”

Her face impassive, she rose on tiptoe and cupped the back of his head with her hand. “Unless you have a stepladder, you’ll have to meet me halfway.”

Garrison didn’t lean forward but he didn’t move away either. The desire that had been rattling around roared inside him. “Eva. This isn’t the time or the place.”

“It’s a good time.”

“You know it’s not.”

“You don’t want me?”

He laid his hand on her shoulders. “I do. But not now. Not with all this hanging over our heads.”

She stared at him a long moment and then wrapped her hands around his neck. “Once thing I’ve learned, Garrison, you can’t count on tomorrow.”

Rising on tiptoe, she kissed him on the lips, savoring the salty taste. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. His erection pushed against her belly, setting every nerve ending in her body on fire. She wanted this. She wanted him.

Kristen lay on her back, her hands and feet shackled to the cold brick floor. The acrid scents of smoke, urine and blood assailed her nose as her unfocused gaze stared up at the ceiling’s roughly hewn beams. Four stars burned the flesh around her navel and even the slightest breeze had her quivering in pain.

She closed her eyes and for a moment let her mind float back to the first and only time she’d held her son in her arms. His little body had been neatly nestled in the crook of her arm. His surprisingly strong mouth had suckled her breast. She’d stroked the soft downy hair on his head. It had been pure bliss.

She’d replayed that moment so many times in the last decade. She’d sacrificed so much for that moment. And she knew now, what she’d done for her son years ago had brought her to this moment.

“I need you do something for me, Kristen.” The voice brought her mind back to the present, like a string jerked a kite from the air.

Her eyes remained closed, her last rebellion.

“You’ll do me a favor, won’t you? Just one more phone call.” And when she didn’t move, “I know where your son lives.”

Her eyes opened. “Where?”

“Ah, there’s a good girl.”

“Where is he?” She didn’t beg for release.

“I’ll tell as soon as you call.”

“You swear?”

“Yes.”

Donovan arrived at the brick house as Eva had instructed. The house looked as if it had been built in the 1920s. The overgrown bushes blocked most of the first-story windows. The front sidewalk had cracked and splintered in several places and the front handrail had fallen over.

“You sure can pick locations, Eva.”

The phone in his pocket buzzed; he reached for it and flipped it open. “Donovan.”

“It’s Eva. I’m inside. The door is unlocked.”

The woman’s voice was faint and it sounded enough like Eva for him to open the door and enter the darkened foyer. Floorboards creaked under his feet. Thanks to light streaming in through a side window, he could see the house was deserted, the furniture long cleared out. He hung up his phone. “Eva.”

“Over here.” The voice sounded older, not like Eva at all.

He took two uncertain steps before he felt a blinding pain in the back of his skull. He dropped to his knees, trying to stay conscious even as he realized the battle was futile.

He fell forward and passed out.

Eva took Deacon by the hand and led him down the hallway to the spare room. She pulled him over the threshold, amazed at how calm and sure she felt until she looked at the bed.

And then the uncertainty rose up inside her. She had no experience with men. And she didn’t want to mess this up. “I’ve never seduced a man,” she said. “I’m not sure what to do next.”

He laid his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to do anything. None of this has to happen now. “ His voice sounded ragged, even a bit nervous.

She turned and faced him. “But I want this. I want you.”

He cupped her face, his expression a hard unreadable mask. She thought for a moment he’d reject her. She wondered if she could bear the rejection. It had taken so much for her to get to this moment.

And then he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. The first kiss was gentle, more like exploration than grand passion. But it boosted her confidence and the courage to wrap her arms around his neck. She pressed her breasts against his chest. Her nipples hardened.

Tensing, he brushed her hair off her face and away from her neck, exposing the tender flesh. He kissed the hollow of her throat, her collarbone and then her ear. Heat bubbled inside her and she tightened her hold on his shoulders.

He backed her up toward the bed until her legs bumped the mattress. She braced, expecting fear, but none came and that gave her the courage to grab the hem of her T-shirt and pull it over her head.

Garrison’s gaze darkened as he stared at her breasts. He leaned down and kissed each soft mound and then slipped his fingers under her bra and teased the tips of her nipples until they hardened more. Eva closed her eyes, moaning her pleasure.

She fumbled with the buckle of his pants but he pushed her hands away.

“Slow.” He eased her back against the mattress and straddled her body. He ran his hands up her thighs and over her flat belly. He was in no rush.

“I like it when you touch me,” she said.

“Good.”

He reached for the bra clasp between her breasts and undid the delicate snap. He cupped her breasts as he leaned forward and kissed her.

The weight of him didn’t scare her nor did it make her want to scream. She’d always feared her first real sexual encounter would be difficult because of the rape, but this felt so different than the last time. Deacon’s touch was as gentle as Josiah’s had been violent.

Garrison suckled her breast. She arched into him.

Her response encouraged him to reach for the snap of her jeans. He unfastened it and stroked the pink fabric of her panties. She grew wet.

With her help, he pulled off her pants and tossed them on the floor. Raw sexual need darkened his eyes as he kissed the panties and pushed his finger under the elastic. He teased her most intimate center, stoking a desire in her she’d never felt before. “Please,” she whispered.

He pressed his lips to her ear and kissed her gently. “Please what? ”

“More.”

“You’re sure?”

This time his voice sounded strained, as if backing off wouldn’t be nearly as easy, but she trusted that he would if she asked. And that made her want him more.

“Yes.” This time when she reached for his belt buckle, he didn’t push her hands away. Instead he watched as she undid the pants and pushed them down over his hips.

When she touched his hardness, Garrison swallowed and a vein in the side of his neck pulsed. He quickly reached in his pocket and pulled a condom from his wallet. He slid it expertly over his erection and then came down on top of her. As he kissed her, he pulled at her panties. Fabric ripped but neither cared.

She opened her legs and he straddled above her. He hesitated, poised at the edge of her, and when she raised her hips, he pushed into her.

He filled her so completely. She tensed, expecting pain, as her body stretched and molded to him. He held steady, kissing her on the lips but not yet moving inside of her. When the tightness eased, he started to move slowly and steadily.

Sensations built inside of her, and when he reached down to touch her again and stroke her softness, her desire bubbled over. She wrapped her legs around him and took all of him. He stroked faster, and in the next second she arched and welcomed his release.

He collapsed against her and rested his face in the crook of her neck. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on their bodies. Their racing heartbeats mingled.

Finally, he rolled on his side and pulled her against him. He cupped his hand over her breast and she nestled her bottom against him. Neither spoke, savoring the union they just shared.

Finally, his hand moved from her breast to the star-shaped scar on her shoulder. He traced it. Kissed it.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again,” he whispered.

Giddiness bubbled in Lou. The plan was coming together. Soon all those who’d needed to be punished would be dead. And Donovan, well, he was about to get the story of his life.

The deadweight of Donovan’s body proved a bit of a struggle but finally Lou dragged him from the house to the waiting van. No doubt the embers in the basement haven had dimmed by now, but it would take little effort to stoke them and get them burning hot once again.

When the haze cleared from Donovan’s brain, his head snapped up in a quick jerky movement. A dry mouth and a pounding headache had him instantly craving a soda and aspirin. “Shit.”

He opened his eyes to a near-dark room. He sat in a chair, his hands tied to the arms. A swell of panic rose up through him and threatened to chase away rational thought. He’d been in bad spots before, like when the drug dealer he’d interviewed had decided he didn’t like the tone of his questions and had tried to jam a knife in his gut, or when a killer-for-hire had threatened to shoot him. Each of those times, he’d been able to talk his way out of trouble.

And he’d do it now.