Beneath the Surface (38 page)

“She wasn’t good enough for you, EJ, wasn’t strong enough. She would have brought you down eventually. It was just a matter of time.”

“Who are you to make decisions like that for me? For anyone?”

“I’m the woman who’s in love with you.” She approached, arms outstretched, and hugged him before he could stop her.

He stood numb and unmoving in her embrace, incredulous and in shock.

EJ caught her around the shoulders and held her away from him, saw the cold calculating look in her blue eyes, a look he’d only briefly glimpsed outside his loft when he and Tabitha had returned from Colorado, and he knew that Jade didn’t know the meaning of love.

All this time he had been sleeping with the enemy and hadn’t known it until now.

“You killed her,” he blurted but Jade vehemently shook her head.

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Gracie C. McKeever

“I might have made some suggestions, given her some gentle prodding, but I didn’t kill her. Your girlfriend did the final exit all on her own. At least she was inspired in the end.”

“You bitch.”

“I did it for you, EJ. I did it all for you.”

“You crazy, manipulative…” He abruptly pulled her into his arms, closed his eyes and held her tight, crushing her in his arms, mindless hate and rage for her melding with his blind naïve love and memories of Sinclair until he didn’t know whether to kick Jade out or squeeze the life out of her to exact revenge.

He didn’t know who he was more disgusted with: Jade for urging Sinclair to her death or himself for letting his dick override his good sense; letting his ethics keep him from trying to probe Jade more extensively in the beginning.

Would it have made a difference had he tried? Would he have been able to penetrate her defenses or would it have been as impossible as reading Sinclair and Tabitha had been?

EJ slowly emerged from his emotional haze to feel her arms come around him, feel her pressing her body, grinding her hips against him, and shuddered in revulsion.

Abruptly, he pushed her away, grabbed her by an arm and dragged her unyielding form towards the door. “I want you out of here now, Jade. If you stay in my sight a minute longer, I can’t be responsible for my actions.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“The only mistake I made was in letting you into my life without question. I’ll regret that for the rest of my life, but that won’t stop me from trying to rectify it now.” He opened the door and pushed her out into the hallway. “Don’t ever come near me or call me again.”

“But EJ, I did it for you.”

“You did it for yourself.”

Jade flung herself in his arms and he instantly pushed her away right before she slapped him hard across the face.

And that’s when EJ noticed Tabitha emerge from one of the nooks in the hallway and slowly make her way over.

Christ, how long had she been standing there? And what was going through that fertile brain of hers?

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Tabitha examined her feelings during the entire ride up to the Village, finally coming to the conclusion that she was numb rather than angry or disappointed. Of course, this changed as soon as she arrived, paying the cab driver before getting out to walk up to the building.

She glanced up at his window, saw the lights on and the silhouette of a man and woman in a passionate clinch behind the shades.

Bile quickly rose to her throat and she swallowed it down, almost choking on the bitterness and betrayal.

She waited a moment to see what they would do, rewarded with the man grabbing the woman’s arm and dragging her off.

Probably to the nearest bedroom to finish what they started.

Tabitha gathered her strength and headed towards the front door.

Luckily, a couple of New Year’s Eve revelers, party hats in place and blowing colorful tin horns, were on their way out of the building. Tabitha caught the door as they exited. The revelers wished her a Happy New Year and she automatically wished them the same, surprised that her brain and vocal cords were working.

She headed up the stairs with one thought on her mind: to catch them in the act and end things right here right now. A not-so-clean break that was way overdue, probably since they’d arrived back from Colorado.

This needed to be done, she told herself. She just hadn’t wanted to admit it before now, hadn’t wanted to admit that she had let her hormones make an important decision for her yet again, hadn’t wanted to admit that she might be exactly like her mother.

Tabitha hit the landing just as a door opened, ran to hide behind a dark nook several feet away, and watched Eric drag Ms. Secret out into the hallway.

She closed her eyes, emotions threatening to choke her as she kept her silence.

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Obviously, they were having some sort of lover’s spat. Question was, over what?

Had Ms. Secret given him some her-or-me ultimatum? Did she want him to break it off and stop straddling the fence between the two of them and Eric refused? Did he want to have his Tabitha and eat his Ms. Secret, too?

“Don’t ever come near me, or call me again.”

“But EJ, I did it for you.”

“You did it for yourself.”

Tabitha had had enough, her legs moving her away from the wall and out into the open before she had a chance to think about what she was doing and that’s when Ms.

Secret flung herself into Eric’s arms.

He instantly pushed her away and Ms. Secret slapped him hard across the face.

Eric glanced up then, eyes wide as he noticed Tabitha’s approach.

“Tabitha, it’s not what you think.”

“Oh, I think it’s exactly what she thinks.”

“Jade, get out of my sight or I swear I’ll call the police and slap a restraining order on you so fast—”

“Oh, don’t put on a show for your girlfriend when you know what we were doing together before she got here.”

Eric turned and frowned at Tabitha as if asking for assistance with the crazy woman before he turned back to glare at Ms. Secret and point her towards the stairs. “Get out,” he growled.

“Fine.” She pouted, turned to go, but paused in front of Tabitha for one more parting shot. “He’s all yours, honey. Hope you like leftovers, because I warmed him up nice and good for you.”

“Why you—”

Eric caught Tabitha around the waist and pulled her back and up into his arms, had her feet dangling several inches off the floor, forcing her to helplessly watch Ms.

Secret flounce down the stairs in all her smug bitchy glory. “Let me go, Eric,” she bit out.

“Are you going to listen to reason?”

“Let me go, damn it!”

He did and as soon as her feet hit the floor, she turned on him.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” She slapped him across the cheek in the same spot that Ms.

Secret had just slapped him, almost winced at how much his face must hurt, only almost, because he couldn’t have been hurting as much as she was hurting right now. Damn him!

“Tabitha—”

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.” She turned on her heels to leave but Eric caught and pulled her back into his arms again.

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“Let go of me.”

“Tabitha, please listen to me.”

“I said it once, I’ll say it again: you don’t have anything to say that I want to hear.”

“I told you it’s not what you think.”

“Why’d you send her away this time and not me?” she blurted, curiosity getting the best of her. “Got your fill of Ms. Secret and now you want to take a turn with Ms.

Boring and Drab?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind what I’m talking about. Just let go of me.” She kicked out, struggling against him.

“Tabitha, stop it right now! Don’t make it into something it wasn’t.” He turned her around, held her by the shoulders, at arm’s length, just avoiding her knee as she raised it up towards his jewels with serious intent. “Will you look at me and listen for a minute!”

Something in Eric’s voice made her stop and stare at him, and for the first time since she had arrived she noticed his appearance. He looked totally exhausted. Not exhausted from any physical or sexual exertion, not exhausted from any pleasurable activity at all. He looked emotionally depleted, eyes sunken in his face with dark circles beneath.

She recognized his expression, the same grief-stricken and haunted expression she used to see in the mirror after her father left, after her mother abandoned her, after the nuns told her that her mother was never coming back for her and that she shouldn’t waste her time hoping.

Tabitha finally registered his loss, afraid to find out how serious and extensive but asked anyway, “What happened?”

“Before I tell you I want you to come here and listen to your messages.”

“But I—”

“No, you come in right now.” He dragged her into his loft and stalked her over to the cordless on the end table.

Reluctantly, she picked up the receiver and dialed her number, feeling like an inconsiderate jerk because she had a feeling what she was going to hear.

Tabitha listened to her outgoing message, entered her code after it had played, chest tightening when she heard his voice—low and with an unmistakable quality of sadness to it.

“…if you’re there, pick up…Look, I don’t know where you are, but give me a call when you get this. My father…he had a heart attack tonight and, um…Just give me a call, okay?”

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Gracie C. McKeever

She hung up the receiver, clinging to her dignity with everything in her, wanting to save face, unable to trust him, or her heart, completely. “This message came in forty-five minutes ago. When did it happen? Why didn’t you call me then?”

“I forgot my cell when my mother called me and once I got to the hospital I just…I didn’t remember to call you until after we knew my father was going to be okay and were all leaving the hospital and on our way home. I borrowed Nick’s cell to call and leave my message.” He finished with a shrug, arms raised from his body, palms up, his look so contrite and sheepish Tabitha wanted to forgive him on the spot, but she couldn’t yet, couldn’t go down without a fight.

“You didn’t remember to call me but you remembered to call
her
?”

“I didn’t call her. Jade was waiting outside when I got here.”

Tabitha had a flash of that night they’d arrived back from Colorado to find Ms.

Secret standing outside his building and her heart melted a notch.

“She stopped by to apologize for the way she acted the last time she was here.”

She shot up her eyebrows, couldn’t believe he had fixed his face to say that to her.

“Don’t tell me you believe her!”

“I did before she—”

“Give me one good reason why
I
should believe anything that woman says.”

He caught her by the shoulders, stopped just short of shaking her. “I’m in love with you and she doesn’t matter to me.”

Okay, that was two and she had to stop herself from gaping, stop herself from unwisely blurting out her own feelings, silently looked at him for a long moment.

“Tabitha, nothing happened,” he murmured. “And when I tell why, you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

She stared at him as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, heart hammering as she waited for him to gather himself.

Before he spilled his guts she had known only bits and pieces about Sinclair, all minute pieces she had learned from his book, but nothing substantial.

By the time he finished explaining what had happened between him and Jade, explained what he’d learned about Jade and Sinclair, Tabitha was near tears with Eric.

She hadn’t known how appropriate her designation for Jade had been, how deep the woman’s animosity and jealousy went for any woman who got near Eric.

“Do you believe her? That she didn’t actually kill Sinclair?”

“I believe she hated Sinclair enough to want her dead. But I don’t believe Jade raised a hand to do her in. I sincerely believe Sinclair did that all on her own.”

“If pushing someone to suicide was a crime…”

“Then I’d have her arrested in heartbeat.”

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“But I guess since it’s not…” Tabitha shrugged, uncomfortable with all she’d learned tonight and not knowing how to approach him, reluctant to touch him for fear that one or both of them would shatter beneath the emotional strain. “How’s your father doing?” she finally asked.

“He was stable in the Coronary Care Unit before we all left. He’s due for bypass surgery tomorrow.”

“Oh, God, I don’t know what to say, Eric.” She’d had a lousy childhood, sure, but as lousy as it was, she had no experience with almost losing someone to illness. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say or how she was supposed to act around him.

She could only imagine what he must be going through, remembered how it had felt when her father walked out on her and her mother.

“You don’t have to say anything. Just your being here is enough.”

She wished that were true, but she knew he needed much more than her presence, much more than assurances and platitudes. The man had just found out that the woman he’d been sleeping with off and on for years had been, in more than a roundabout way, responsible for Sinclair’s death, on the same night that he’d found out that his father had had a heart attack. What could she say to ease the shock and pain of this news? Tabitha felt like anything she said at this point would be trivial and meaningless.

He held his arms out for her and Tabitha silently walked into them, burying her face against the soft cotton of his T-shirt for a long moment, relishing his sweet-spicy musk and hard muscles.

“You look nice tonight,” he murmured. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to bring in the New Year with you.”

She pulled away to glance up at him, wanted to tell him they’d have next year, plenty of next years, but her throat clenched with too many broken promises, too many disappointments to believe that, much more to tell him.

* * * *