Szot, JC - The South Window (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (19 page)

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The next day Allie packaged all her drawings and graphics for pickup. She went on the computer to research some vacation spots for her and Dan. At 4:00 p.m. Marty called and told her to walk across first and wait for him in the back near the pool. Allie slipped on her sandals and made her way over to Tess’s. She circled around back and opened the gate, sitting down on a lounge chair to wait for Marty.

She heard him pull the latch on the gate. Allie walked toward the back door, sifting through the keys on the ring. The third key she tried slipped in the lock. Allie pushed the door open with Marty behind her. They walked inside to the back entrance of the kitchen. The bright-white tiled floor and milky cabinets gleamed in the afternoon sunlight.

A small table and two wrought iron chairs were jutted up against the wall. To the left Tess had a beautiful contemporary dining room. High-back chairs in a dark cherrywood stood at attention around a massive, heavy table. The cream-colored draperies were closed. A dark, gloomy hue hung over the room.

“You have to take those boots off.” Allie pointed to Marty’s feet, his soles caked with dry chunks of mud. Marty went back outside.

When Allie turned the corner into the living room, she was bombarded with the reality of their theory. The dark-brown leather sectional was torn apart and stacked up against the wall. There was a king-sized bed sitting in the middle of the room. Black sheets hung over all the windows. Tiny cracks of late-day sunlight seeped through. Yellow bars of heat lay on the ivory carpeting. In the corner of the room, was a garment rack full of various styles of costumes. Allie’s eyes grazed over a white body stocking, a sequined teddy, and garter belts and hosiery in every color imaginable.

“Allie?” Marty’s voice cut through her silent, stunned state.

“I’m in here,” she called out to him. Allie almost touched the clothing but quickly caught herself, her hand pulling back.

“Holy shit!” Marty’s eyes sprang open. “I knew it. I knew it,” he chuckled. “They were making skin films in here.” He shook his head, padding around the room.

Allie turned to head up the stairs, Marty at her heels. Allie decided at this point she was only going to go into the master bedroom. Her bare feet sank into the thick-pile carpet as she ascended. She turned the corner on the landing, seeing into Tess’s bedroom.

“How many times have you been in here?” Marty asked, his voice slightly above a whisper.

“Dan and I were here once, but we never made it past the kitchen.”

Tess’s room was dark. Heavy plum draperies cast a purplish glow on the walls. There was another massive, unmade bed, the covers a twisted mess.

Allie’s eyes landed on the nightstand. There were three prescription bottles sitting near the clock. She bent over, trying to read them, not wanting to touch anything. One bottle was full of sleeping pills, another, a painkiller. The third was a drug she wasn’t familiar with. Marty was over near her dressing table.

“Hey,” he called softly, waving her over. “Look at this.” He pointed to an open cosmetic mirror.

Allie squinted through the limited light. Marty took a piece of paper out of his pocket, licked the corner, and lightly dipped it into a small pile of white powder and ran it over his tongue.

“I think this is cocaine.” He turned to her, his face lifted in surprise.

Allie shook her head. How had Tess’s life come to this? The films, and the drugs. Why? It seemed her appetite for self-satisfaction had grown into a massive, uncontrollable hunger. She just couldn’t get to the point of being content, fulfilled. Allie had seen enough.

Allie started to make her way downstairs when something caught her eye hanging from the upper corner of Tess’s dressing table mirror. All the life and energy drained out of her body. Allie’s horrified expression reflected back at her, a sick mockery.

“Oh my God!” she screamed.

“What’s wrong?” Marty pushed past her.

Both of them stood and stared at a pair of Allie’s panties, light blue, trimmed in lace. They were hanging from Tess’s mirror. Allie grabbed Marty’s shoulder, her nails digging.

“I told you she knew.” Saliva flew from her mouth. Her body shuddered. Allie screamed. Her cries of frustration bounced off the walls. The cold reality of it all plowed through her veins, poking her like icy needles. Her cries reverberated through the empty house.

“I’m done.” Allie turned to flee toward the stairs.

Marty grabbed her arm, his fingers squeezing into her flesh, twisting it. “Stop it, Allie.” Marty’s angered words overpowered her, stopping Allie dead in her tracks. Allie faced him, her face a hysterical mess.

“Are you sure these are yours?” His words were hushed. Marty stroked her arm. “We gotta stay calm.”

Allie nodded slowly. “Dan brought them back from Paris. They’re one of a kind.” Allie wiped her face, a salty, sweaty mask.

“How did she get them?”

“I must’ve left them in your workshop.” Allie chewed the inside of her cheek. Salted blood coated her tongue.

“Jesus Christ, she’s a sick bitch.” Marty dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I have to get out of here.” Allie turned on her heels to leave, her head spinning.

In her periphery she saw Marty reaching up to take the panties down.

“No,” Allie yelled, clawing his arm. “She’ll know I know. Leave them.”

Allie careened down the stairs, the walls closing in. Everything she stood for was being swallowed by Tess’s jealous rage. The thought of Marty choosing Allie over her had provoked Tess to want to destroy her, revenge being as stimulating as a drug for her.

Allie turned the corner into the kitchen when she spotted two men outside the window over the kitchen sink, the dark-haired man and the blond. Allie spun around, slamming into Marty’s chest.

“They’re here.” Allie shoved Marty. The force of her hands on his chest had him stumbling back.

“What, who’s here?” His eyes widened in alarm, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Allie yanked his hand, pulling him back toward the stairwell. She bolted up the stairs two at a time, her thigh muscles burning in rebellion. She darted into Tess’s bedroom and ran for the closet, pulling Marty in behind her, closing the door quietly.

“Allie?” Marty pawed at her arm.

Allie placed her fingers over her lips. She pulled Tess’s garments apart, weaving her way to the back corner of the walk-in closet. She and Marty crouched down in the corner, their breathing labored, filling the darkened silence. They listened to gruff voices as they grew closer, rounding the corner of the landing and ascending up to Tess’s bedroom.

Marty’s eyes stared at her, two dark reflectors of fear. He reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers. Allie looked at his face mixing in with the shadows of Tess’s clothing, then sank her head in her hands. It was then that she saw his stockinged feet. Her heart fell. The confined air of the closet covered them like a thick, weighted blanket.

His damn boots again
. Allie didn’t bring this to his attention. The men were in Tess’s room now. They were rummaging through her things. Drawers opened and closed. Cosmetic bottles clinked together as they were tipped over.

Allie heard one of the men murmur something about an address book. She said a prayer in silence that they wouldn’t open the closet. Another man’s voice broke through, saying they were wasting their time. Allie listened to hear their feet brush across the carpeting, the sound of their steps receding back toward the stairwell. Marty went to get up. Allie placed her arm across his chest. When the room was quiet, she opened the door a crack. The kitchen door slammed downstairs. Marty released a weighted breath, sagging back against the wall.

They emerged from the closet. Marty leaned into the window, pulling the drapery back. He waved her over then pointed to the black Mercedes tearing out of the driveway.

“She’s fucking screwed.” Marty shook his head.

“She did something to piss them off, that’s for sure. Maybe this could work in my favor.” Marty examined her face, looking puzzled. “This dilemma of hers just may take her focus off of us,” Allie explained. “We’ve drawn too much of her attention. Don’t think this is over,” Allie warned him.

Chapter 24

They sat at Marty’s kitchen table, nursing their wounds of terror with huge steaming cups of coffee and warmed cinnamon buns slathered with butter.

“I still say we should’ve taken the panties back.” Marty bit into his bun.

“Nope, not a good idea.” Allie eyed him over her cup. “I don’t want to provoke her.”

“Will she tell Dan?” Marty’s face was still.

“I don’t know. She may.” Allie voice caught.

“Man, I feel like shit.”

“It’s my fault more than yours. I knew the risk before I did it. Maybe I deserve what’s coming.”

“When can we expect Dan?” Marty asked.

“In about three weeks, then he’s done traveling for awhile.” Allie picked at her food, her stomach rolling over at the thought.

“Maybe you better just tell him, beat her to the punch. I’ll help you.” Marty said quietly.

“I can’t think right now. Everything’s so fucked up.” Allie pinched her eyes closed, trying to shut everything out.

“When is Tess coming back?” Marty’s hand was inching across the table, resting on the smooth wood, inches away from hers.

“She didn’t say, which doesn’t help us much,” Allie told him.

“I feel so fucking useless.” Marty dug his fingers into his hair.

“Marty, it’s not your problem.” Allie stood up and brought their dishes to the sink.

Marty stood. The legs of his chair scraped across the linoleum floor. When Allie turned around, he was right in front of her, his face inches away. His breath was warm, laced with coffee and sugar. It wafted under her nose, over her lips.

“It’s hard for me to be sorry,” Marty whispered. He ran his finger over the skin of her shoulder. She quivered under his touch, knowing where it could lead.

“Please,” Allie choked, her self-control waning. “You promised,” she reminded him.

“I know.” He released a breath. “God, I want you.” He ate her with his eyes. “My skin aches to feel your luscious body against mine. My tongue so wants to taste you.”

“Marty, please don’t.” Allie tried to pass him. She needed to get home. She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust herself.

“Don’t you want me?” He leaned into her, his shadowed jaw grazing her cheek.

“You’re not being fair.” Allie stiffened. She pushed the thrilling thought of touching him out of her mind.

“Allie.” Marty cupped her face in his hands. He traced her lips with the pad of his thumb.

“I can’t.” Her eyes filled.

“Do you still love him?” Marty gripped her shoulders, stepping back, searching her with his eyes.

“I’m so confused, please.” Allie pushed past him and ran out of the kitchen.

She bolted across the patio stones, running across the yard, her body wired. Allie gasped for air, her heart racing in her chest. Darting behind the house, she took the deck stairs two at a time. She pulled the sliding glass door open, then slammed it shut, locking it behind her.

She went into the kitchen and poured a glass of wine, sucking down the thick, burgundy liquid. Its sourness burned her throat. She downed a second glass, then a third, attempting to anesthetize her pain and fears.

Why was Marty doing this? They made a pact, to which he agreed. Why was he backpedaling? Allie came to the hard realization that she may have to confess her betrayal to Dan. There weren’t any other options. The sooner she came clean, the better. Even if Tess wasn’t a threat, could she live with this?