BLIND: A Mastermind Novel (33 page)

He understood the statistics of breast cancer, knew what the chances of survival were, but he’d never once considered that losing his mom might very well kill his dad. It had been a very difficult year and Asher wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He’d selfishly begun to make arrangements, plans to escape—the only way he could assure the pain and pressure would end.

Seeing his father break was the wakeup call he needed. They were in this together. Family. That week, he went to his computer and opened up his history—so many searches revolving around methods of suicide. He deleted everything, knowing his father needed him there. Finishing school might kill him, but he’d somehow survive it. He had to, because there was no room for any more sadness in their home.

Leaning forward in bed, he scrubbed his palms over his face and reached for his glasses. What had he been thinking, reopening all these doors to his painful past? She’d worn the blindfold, but he was the unseeing idiot. How foolish to think he’d grown enough to face down those demons. Thirty years old and still just a scared little boy pretending he possessed the constitution of a man.

I can’t do this.

The thought jarred him, chilled him, and propelled him into action. So frightened if the pressure continued that he’d back out and lose her forever—something he didn’t want to happen—he reached for his phone and sent her a text. He needed to know she was still there, still with him.

Are you there?

Her response came in less than a minute.

I’m here. Just getting ready to walk out the door to work. How was your night?

He exhaled and shut his eyes, drawing immense comfort from her emotional presence. He wasn’t used to depending on other’s reassurance.

If I asked you to come to me—right now—would you?

Send.
Her response was immediate.

Yes.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Then his phone vibrated again.

Is something wrong?

Mr. Stone? Did something happen? Do you need me to call out of work?

Falling back into bed, he sighed and held the phone to his chest. Realizing he was likely scaring her, he typed a response.

Everything’s fine. I just wanted to wish you a good day at work. I look forward to seeing you soon.

His phone chirped a moment later.

Soon can’t come fast enough. xo

Her reply left him with a renewed sense of competence. Six encounters left. After tonight it would be five, he could survive that. He just had to keep her interested and wanting him.

When he and Steve finished his morning workout, he picked the other man’s brain. “What do you think women want?”

“In general, or are you referring to Ms. Farrow?”

“Both.”

Steve wiped down the machines as he deliberated. “Flowers, but you already did that. Some like to cuddle, others like chocolate and teddy bears. Once I dated a girl and had her car detailed. She blew my doors off that night. Never expected a chick to be so grateful about a little Armor All and wax.”

Scarlet had a car. “What kind of car does Ms. Farrow drive?
”
Steve had picked her up enough to know.

“It’s a little blue thing. Maybe a Dodge or a Chevy, I’m not sure. Why, you gonna fix it up for her?”

He didn’t know the first thing about cars, but he could pay someone to do it. He quickly located his phone and sent her a text.

Hope your first class went well, Ms. Farrow. On your next break, please leave your car unlocked and the keys under the mat. Don’t worry. I’ll have it back by four. Have a pleasant day.

This would be a test of trust. Asher was well aware of Scarlet’s salary, not that it was a deciding factor in anything. He knew where she worked and salaries in the public school system were communal knowledge. If her modest income didn’t often lead her to spas and hotels, the chances of her car getting a little TLC were unlikely as well.

“Is it a new car?
”
he asked Steve.

“Nah, probably about ten years old.”

His phone chimed and he grinned. So easy, but always a refreshing surprise to hear back from her.

“She’s going to leave the key under the mat on the driver’s side. I want you to take the Mercedes, park it out of sight, and pick up her car.”

“Where should I take it? Do you have a garage in mind?”

He thought for a moment. They had Gus, the guy who worked on KITT and the ambulance, but he worked slowly. Asher still had to make the arrangements for that evening and make an appearance at work, but the temptation of peeking into her space was too much. “Pick me up once you have the car and we’ll take it to a dealership. They’ll likely have everything we need in stock.”

****

Steve drove the small blue car that turned out to be a Ford, as Asher busied himself snooping through compartments. She was very organized. Her inspection was up to date and her registration and proof of insurance were neatly clipped together in the glove compartment.

In the backseat he found an umbrella and a travel trash bag holding only a receipt for produce. Disappointed there weren’t more telling hints of her hiding in the car, he gave up his search.

When they pulled into the garage at the dealership, an attendant wearing an expected jumpsuit stained at the cuff with grease greeted them. Steve handed over the keys as Asher selected from the menu of services. He gave his credit card to the attendant. When everything was finished, Steve would return the car to the school, key inside.

****

Scarlet was on cloud nine. Once again, Mr. Stone had done something no one had ever come close to doing for her before. When she’d left the keys that morning, only curiosity had her heart racing. There was no worry regarding his care of her property, as Mr. Stone seemed to define responsible.

Never had she expected returning to the parking lot to find what he’d left. Her little blue Ford sparkled in the sunlight. There were no traces of the dent from a runaway shopping cart and all those tiny scratches by her bumper and door were gone.

Four new gleaming tires rested under the frame and the windshield glistened. She expected the surprises to stop there, but, of course, they didn’t. In the dash was a new stereo with an updated auxiliary hookup complete with a tiny red iPod all ready to go. She giggled. He. Was. Amazing.

The scent of polished leather jarred her. He’d had her seats replaced with luxury ones, boasting electronic controls and the much-coveted heated settings she’d always longed for. How would he know she’d always wanted such things?

He couldn’t know. The gift was so extravagant it left her breathless and slightly intimidated. She’d already surmised Mr. Stone had money, but to throw it away on her and her old car
…
how limitless were his funds? Some women might find that attractive. But for her it was slightly frightening. How would she ever measure up or compete with such openhandedness?

Who was this man and why had he chosen her, of all people? When she located her keys she spotted more additions. Her Ford had an automatic start control now, which would be lovely when winter really took its toll. But, oddly, the most touching gift of all, was the small keychain dangling from the ring.

It was a beautiful silver sword with a garnet stone embedded in the hilt. She turned the jewel, admiring the way the sunlight gathered in the crests, forming reflections of scarlet deep in the stone. Why had he chosen this?

Of course, the sword reminded her of him and his silly profile picture. Was he the sword in the stone? Somehow locked in place, while she was the scarlet light? There was a reason she taught math instead of literature. She sucked at symbolism. Still, this was better than anything he’d ever given her because she could hold it every day, like a secret her heart would always protect.

As she drove home she noted other improvements. Her fluids were full and the car had a new set of windshield wipers. When she turned on the radio the iPod illuminated. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was when music slowly strummed through the car.

It was a remake of an old song, quite familiar, and relevant. Curious about the pretty vocals, she glanced at the artist’s name displayed on the screen. It was Amanda Seyfried singing
Little Red Riding Hood.

The quiet thrumming of strings paired with her husky vocals cut right to her heart as the words sank into her soul. Had he purposefully selected this song? Of course he had. There was such desperation to the song. It was romantic, yet ominous. She was
n’
t afraid, not of him. No matter what happened, she truly believed h
e’
d never intentionally hurt her.

When she got home she fed Thor and changed into jeans and a soft sweater. He’d instructed her to wear something comfortable, but her feminine side forbade she go to him in grungy sweats and sneakers. He deserved her efforts.

She carefully brushed out her hair, and clipped it into a twist. Reaching into her jewelry box, she selected the thin pearl necklace he’d given her, pairing it with twin pearl earrings her mother had gifted her with on her sweet sixteen.

On the drive to him, her mind remained busy, turning over possibilities and disqualifying the sense that he was rushing to the end. Maybe he was, but maybe that was in order to get to the next stage, a stage where blindfolds didn’t exist and she could finally look into his eyes.

“Did you like all the improvements to your car, Ms. Farrow?”

Pennyworth’s question jarred her attention away from the lingering apprehension. Their short conversations over the mysterious drive had become familiar, never carrying the weight of her and Mr. Stone’s dialogues.

“I love them!
”
She smiled in the enforced darkness. “I never expected anything like that when he told me to leave the keys.”

“He was happy to do it for you.”

She silently grinned, finding it peculiar that Pennyworth had divulged any information regarding his employer’s motives. “He’s incredible,
”
she whispered.

The driver didn’t miss her appraisal. “Inspiring,
”
he amended, bringing her back to their first meeting when he’d used that same word.

Mr. Stone certainly was an inspiring man. He’d inspired her to attempt things she never dreamed she’d have the courage to dream.

I love him.

Her mind jolted at the silent confession. Did she love him? Knowing she shouldn’t—not yet—she reprimanded her fanciful heart and remained quiet for the remainder of the drive.

“We’re here.
”
The car slowed and her stomach turned over, a pinch of excitement folded into nervousness, but as the door opened any worry was replaced with euphoric joy.

“Good evening, Ms. Farrow.”

Tension escaped her as she sighed. “Good evening, Mr. Stone. Thank you for my incredible gift today. I loved it.
”
There was that pesky word again. She’d have to be careful tonight.

Taking her hand, he surprised her by leaning close, his warm scent breathing into her soul, as warm lips pressed at the corner of her jaw, just beneath her ear. His breath was hot, tickling her throat. “You’re very welcome.”