Between the Waters (Symphony of Light) (14 page)

“Oh God…you didn’t…I mean, he didn’t…I think I get the picture.”

He scooted closer to me. His leg pressed against mine, his mouth at my ear. His breath was hot and stubble rough against my cheek. “Oh no, Linden. You don’t get to close your eyes and wish it all away. This is the climax of the story. I’m going to speak softly so the waiter doesn’t call the police, but it was you who requested this matinee, and now you have to stay until the curtain call.”

I swallowed hard. Perspiration beaded on my skin. A butter knife was the only thing in reach I could use as a weapon. I stretched my hand toward it.

“You can have the knife.” He snaked his arm around my shoulder and grabbed it and handed it to me. “You might as well take it if it makes you feel safer.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing.” His voice was calm, unshaken. “Besides finish the story you asked me to tell.”

“What if I don’t want to hear it?”

“Well, now isn’t that the perfect moral to this story. We don’t always get a choice now, do we? But lucky for you, you did make a choice, and I am in return only honoring your wishes.” He squeezed me tighter to him.

“He knew to wait until Cyril was far away before taking possession of me. He walked to the kitchen and pulled out the knife that had just been professionally sharpened earlier that week. In the bedroom, Gillette stood over the crib, pretending to talk to our child. Her face was so lovely and round. So healthy. So vibrant. She had never smiled so bright as when she spoke of the babe.”

I didn’t want to hear it. Not one more detail. I had enough of my own pain. There was no way to endure his too. But while the selfish side of me railed against his violent verbal picture, that slightly less self-absorbed side wanted to allow him to share his pain, to offload some of his burden, while at the same time making the realization that no matter how much I suffered, there were many degrees of worse. I was both grateful and frightened. Muscles in my arms and legs tensed. Would I need to fight for my life, or could he be believed?

“She turned to me, her belly round and her soft blond curls framing her face. She never looked more beautiful. Then her expression changed, she started to scream, and she stumbled and tripped over the bassinette. Her white nightgown caught on the edge and she fell to the floor.”

“I get the point.” I wanted to put my hands over my ears and scream or wiggle my nose and make him vanish. I didn’t want to hear it.

“No, I don’t think you do.” His voice was rough, harsh, and frightening. “She begged me to stop. Tears in her eyes, blood on her dress, he cut the child from her womb just so he could hear him scream. Him. My son.” Moreaux’s tears ran down my neck, across my collarbone, and stained my shirt in dark splotches. The reverberations in his chest from his sobs shook me as his grip tightened.

“Do you know what she said? Do you? Do you know what she said to me with the knife at her throat?”

He gripped so tight I couldn’t shake my head. On a whisper I said, “No.”

“She said, ‘I will always love you.’ I begged him to stop. I screamed, ‘I love you too. Forgive me.’ But the words that left my mouth were not mine. ‘Filthy whore,’ was all she heard fall from my lips. As she gurgled her final breath, I died. Joy would never be possible. How do you live when you can’t trust yourself?”

His tears still flowed, and wetness stained my cheeks. This poor man.

“Linden, this is why I need you to save me. I won’t force you, no. Never would I force you to love a monster, but I know that since you love Cyril, you are capable of great acts of forgiveness, and I hope someday, you’ll see past all I have done and see the man I’ve always wanted to be.” He pulled back and cupped my cheeks. “You are not only bound to me, but also to him. He can never hurt you. With you, he is quiet. I can think again.”

No way! I pitied him, but had enough issues of my own. “Moreaux, I am so sorry, but with this all being new, I can’t be anything to anyone right now. I don’t even know who I am.” I felt my own tears breech my eyes, and his gaze held so much love, so much compassion and so much…hope. Damn it! That was the last thing he needed and the one thing I was incapable of giving.

Saved by the bell. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I ducked my head and started to scoot away from him on the bench. My bottom slid across the curved cushions with ease. “I’m so sorry, I need to be going. Someone is bound to come looking for me and…well…you know.”

He stood and extended his hand, helping me out of my seat. “I understand.” He raised my hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back. “But you’ll still accompany me to the celebration? If nothing else it is great publicity for you and the symphony. I can see the headlines now.”

Still the phone buzzed. I fumbled while removing it, and it fell to the floor. “You’re right, it is great publicity, but I don’t know that it’s the best idea. If I agree everything must remain purely platonic. I’m not looking to be anyone’s girl.”

He smiled. “Of course not. You have nothing to worry about. I will be the perfect gentleman. I do hope you’ll consider it.” He leaned down and retrieved my phone. When he turned it over Overton’s name emblazoned across the front with the words missed call below it. He furrowed his brow. “It seems the priest beckons you.”

I grabbed the phone from his hand. “Thanks, but nobody beckons me.” Just then the phone rang again. Overton. “I gotta go. I’m so sorry. Nice to meet you.” The truth was my new satellite phone gave me few excuses about available cell service. If I didn’t answer soon, he’d come looking for me. I waved and started toward the door, swiping the phone screen to answer the call.

“What do you need?”

I grabbed my coat from Ellis and waved to him as I struggled to slip my arms into my sleeves, phone to my ear. When he spoke, it startled me because I heard him both through the phone and out loud. I turned the corner past the host podium and ran into him, landing my nose hard against his chest.

He grasped both of my upper arms and held me just far enough away so I could see his wide smile. “I stopped by to see if you were interested in going to lun…” His smile faded, and his jaw clenched. “Moreaux. What are you doing here?”

Fuck! There was no way this could end well.

“Settle down, Priest. I was invited. No laws were broken.”

The look Overton gave me chilled my blood. He was always so pleasant; I had never encountered how much power and ferocity he contained. Even when he defended my honor with Sinclair, it was fueled by a righteous indignation, not the disgust I saw in him now.

“Is that right?” His hands squeezed my arms. “Linden never has been one for doing what she’s told.” Overton words were forced through his clenched teeth.

“Perhaps you should stop telling her what to do.” I felt Moreaux’s hand cup my shoulder from behind. Overton smacked it away.

“Now there’s a novel idea. Regardless, I had a good reason.” I wiggled loose from Overton’s grip and turned to face Moreaux. Overton immediately wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. “Thank you for meeting me. You cleared up some of my questions. Thank you.”

He reached down and squeezed my hand. “I’ll still see you at the celebration, correct?”

Overton answered for me. “No, you will not.”

“Excuse me?” I unhooked Overton’s hands from around my waist and turned back to him. “It’s a symphony function, and he’s the biggest patron. Of course I’m going to see him there.” I left out the piece about accompanying him. I still wasn’t sure it was the best idea.

He patted my arms and ignored me. “Very clever, Moreaux. Up to your old tricks, I see. Don’t even think about it. Whatever you are planning isn’t going to work.”

“I’ve told you, Priest, I’m not the same man. She changed me. You continue with your protective ways. Even a gilded cage is still a prison, as the saying goes.” Moreaux inclined his head toward me and tucked his arms behind his back. “My pleasure, milady.” He slipped into his coat, the light through the leaded glass of the lobby glinting off the striking green broach.

Overton squeezed me from behind.

Moreaux’s expensive shoes tapped against the marble, creating an eerie echo. I couldn’t see him walk away, but his distance was audible.

I held still in Overton’s arms, overwhelmed by Moreaux’s story, angry about Overton’s intrusion. My meeting did not go as planned.

“I’m sorry.”

Speaking the unexpected. “You are?”

He turned me to face him, but kept his arms around me. “He has a point.”

“And that is?”

“I keep trying to control you.”

“Well, given the men I fall in love with, I’m sort of used to it.” After the words left my lips I realized how they could be interpreted.

He raised an eyebrow. Damn. The last thing I wanted to do was to give him false hope.

He must have seen the look on my face because he didn’t pursue it.

“It was wrong of me to come. I should have called and left it at that.”

“No, it wasn’t. I wanted to meet with Moreaux to see if there was anything I could find out to help Clarence through his change.”

“Was there?”

“No.”

“You could have asked me.” He reached up and brushed the hair from my face.

I felt like an ass. He was right, but when I was with him my only thoughts were to crawl into his arms or fuck him until I couldn’t see straight.

“Now I’m the one who needs to apologize.”

He hugged me tight. “Nonsense. Since you’ve already had lunch. I’ll be on my way.” He kissed me on top of my head.

“Wait.”

“What?” He pulled away and started to turn, holding on to just the fingertips of one hand.

“Thank you for thinking of me.”

He raised my hand to his lips. “Linden, I’m always thinking of you. One day, perhaps you’ll see how much I love you.”

“And one day I’ll free you from that prison.”

He pulled me close, wrapped one arm around my back, and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “You won’t have to. You don’t understand. I love you enough to let you go. There is no love deeper or undeniable, so go ahead with your spell. It won’t change a thing.” He touched his lips to my ear and pulled me tighter. “Enjoy your day, love.” With that he released me and turned. The same ominous echo filled the foyer as his shoes met marble. The gust of air blew through the hallway when he opened the glass doors to the street.

I wrapped my arms around my chest. “Fuck.”

Chapter Eleven

Swordplay

“Sweetness, if you don’t start ducking when I come at you, I’m going to have to spank you.”

“Rhys, I’m not in the mood.”

He stuck the sword tip into the hardwood flooring and wiped the sweat from his brow, but beads continued to stream down his chiseled chest. “For what? The spanking…or the fighting?”

I threw down my sword. “Neither.” I started for the door.

“Whoa, chica, what is wrong? You never give up a fight. And one day you’ll be begging me for that spanking, but something’s wrong. What is it?”

“Nothing…thanks again for your help.”

He jumped in front of me, his long black hair slick with sweat. “Oh, no. What is it? Linden, I’m your friend. Talk to me.”

“I can’t. I don’t have any friends. I have a horde of potential fuck buddies, but every single one of my friends comes with a heap of baggage.”

He sat down on the floor and motioned for me to sit. I reluctantly took his cue.

“Sweet cheeks, I don’t know if you know this or not, but every man you’ve been friends with is no different than any of us. You may not have seen it, but I can guarantee that if he’s a man, he’s calculating the fastest course to getting in your pants. It’s just the way things are.”

“Not with Clarence.”

“OK, maybe not him. But trust me, any other man is angling for a piece no matter what the pretense. No matter the game, the goal is always sex.”

“I used to confide in Olivia, but after the incident with Michael things have been tense, plus she’s in Europe. I’ve always depended on Clarence and now I may have doomed him.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. That man is stoked. Do you know what he’s been doing all week? Werewolf movies. He thinks he’s going to be howling at the moon. And don’t let him fool you, sweet stuff, he’s looking forward to it.” He flashed me a big smile. “I keep telling him that if he ends up shifting, he’s going to turn into Mary, not the beast, and then we’re going to make him start serving breakfast around here.”

“You told him that?”

“Yeah, he hit me. He’s a strong motherfucker.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“See, you just need to calm down. Know that you do have friends.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed. “You have me.” His mouth twitched. “But if you’re ever looking for a hot time at the drive-in, I’m your man.”

I smacked him. “I meant to say something to you about that. Sex at the drive-in is supposed to happen inside the car.”

“Na. How are the people going to get to see my slick Spanish moves if we’re steaming up the windows? On the hood, baby, no other choice.”

“They aren’t supposed to see us. You have some of the strangest fantasies.”

He stood and extended his hand to me.

“You have to admit, sweet cakes, it’s a lot more fun than being bound and gagged and subjected to Sinclair’s bullshit all night.”

I took his hand and stood. “OK. You win.”

“Now those are words I so rarely hear from you. On that note, we’ll call it a night.”

“Very funny.”

He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “You have plenty of friends. We’re all here for you.”

I gave a weak smile. “Thanks.”

“Nine o’clock sharp tomorrow and no excuses. You either kick my ass, or I’m making good on that spanking.”

“Bring your tissues. You’ll need to wipe your tears.”

“That’s my girl.” He retrieved our swords and left.

* * *

I hadn’t seen Overton all day, but his white lab coat was missing from the back of my door when I closed it. He was most likely making rounds.

I was sweaty from my workout with Rhys, so a shower was in order. I slipped off my clothes, tossed them in a hamper, and padded into the bathroom. On the marble countertop stood a tented notecard.