Eluding Nirvana (The Dark Evoke Series Book 2) (9 page)

Liam slipped in beside me, turned on the ignition and
began to back-out of the space.

It was as though my jaw wasn’t connected to my body the way it kept falling open to free words which I rehearsed in my mind. Rehearsed…stupid I know, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to say or do anything stupid to prove to the man beside me that I needed another punishment dished out. No pun intended. Even the mere
concept made my stomach lurch and my head become fuzzy.

In the midst of focusing on the road,
he murmured, “What is it, Kady? You look like a fucking goldfish.”

My lungs filled themselves to capacity with a deep inhalation, and while I picked my fingernail in my lap, I bit the bullet and rubbed my measly two IQ points together and hoped that I didn’t sound whiny and made
a mediocre of sense. “Do you know whether Brittany hooked up with anyone last night?”

A cautionary yet puzzled expression flashed across his face when he chanced a glance as my fidgeting form. “How would I know? Why do you ask?”

“Her typical vivacious, crazy chick attitude, compared to what she was like this morning…” I shook my head in the midst of my musing, and rolled my lips over my teeth before relinquishing a sigh of defeat.

“Kady,”
an unanticipated tender hand lowered to my beige, linen-clad thigh. “She’s a big girl. She doesn’t need some third degree. If she did hook up with someone, then that was her choice. Nothing in this world is done without cause, Kady. Every attitude, every action, every approach, it all has an underlining motive.”

A moment of clarity formed as those words were given. He was right. Each action
in this world is done for a reason. His actions that morning were harsh, cruel and barbaric, but they were needed. They weren’t some sadistic ploy to cause distress. They wouldn’t have been needed, had I not have overstepped the line and interfered with his business. It didn’t occur to me at that time that it was a two way street, and that my actions of overstepping the mark, also had an underlining reason, which he obviously could see or just wouldn’t regard.

No longer feeling inferior, the
air between us became thinner and clearer. “You’re right,” I nodded, and as my musings was given a voice, his hand tightened with a degree of affection on my thigh. I repaid him with setting my own understanding hand over his and locked our fingers together.

Dilapidated buildings passed by at speed as I p
eeked out of the window. “No matter what it is, she’ll tell me eventually. She always does.”

“
What on Earth are you doing?” I giggled after big, strong, powder-blue shirt-sleeves whipped me off my feet as we stood in the small hallway of our apartment building. Yet, my question was left unanswered as Liam focused on carrying me up each flight of stairs like he was carrying a gym bag in his arms instead of a fully grown woman. I would have objected, kicked my legs and swat him away until he set me back on my feet.
‘God gave me legs for a reason’,
as my Nan would say. Despite that, my arms came up to lock at the nape of his neck; the tips of his locks tickled at the edges of my fingers, while the pulse in the left of his neck caused the spider’s web to throb. Held against the hardness of his chest, I breathed him in and allowed myself to be carried.

Somehow
, he successfully managed to dig into his black pants pocket for the apartment key and slip it into the lock without releasing, or accidentally dropping me. I was quite impressed.

Kicking the door open,
he took us over the threshold and again, kicked the door shut once we were inside. The solidity of the ground beneath my feet was greatly missed. I squealed for him to please put me down. Then again, Liam DeLaney, being Liam DeLaney, didn’t take nicely to orders or requests. He did as he wanted, and if you were on the receiving end of what he wanted, there was no room for opposition.

The apartment was filled with the so
unds of my lighthearted chortle. Burnish orange coated the walls as the sun was beginning to meet the horizon. It must have been about 4:30 p.m. and the nights’ rolling in earlier and earlier was a factor I held a great hate towards.

Into the bedroom we went. A shriek
tore from my throat as I was tossed on to the black and red satin adorned bed. Feeling like I had just walked through some web, my hands immediately flew up to hastily brush the sensation left behind as wayward tendrils tickled my face. Before I could even attempt to push myself up, I was pinned back down by a heavy body, his head hovering above mine.

“Good evening, Miss Jenson,” he pu
rred. Just the simple use of him calling me, ‘Miss Jenson’ had me squirming, not to mention the husky intonation which the two words traveled along. My legs fell open farther, allowing him to be cradled against me. Circling and grinding hips caressed my core, sending my eyes fluttering as I savored the sensation of his hinting motives.

“Good evening
to you, Mr. DeLaney,” I breathed back, all the while my hips were propelling upward to meet the tantalizing use of his gyrating hips.

He pulled away
and slithered down my body where his fingers proceeded to sink beneath the waistband of my Capri’s. When the button was popped, he continued to lower the zipper and peel them, along with my underwear, down my legs, slipping my heeled pumps off just before divesting the material from my flesh.

“
What are you doing?” I asked as the hard body and hungry eyes glided back up my half-naked form. My arms were grasped insistently in his hands then I was hauled up and stripped of the remaining clothing, which was acting like an unwanted and unnecessary barrier.

Naked, with the exception of my bra, h
e laid me back down, nuzzled my neck and streamed loud, wet, sweet sensuous kisses down the curve to meet my shoulder. “I was thinking,” he began then paused for a second while his tongue slithered across my collarbone. “We could go to the movies tonight and see a movie of your choosing.”

My body responded immediately with my
head rolling to the right, offering greater access to devour the area. My eyes widened, and my words caught, “Me? You’re going to let me pick?”

“This is my way of apologizing
.” His words were ice water on my libido. Apologize? There was no need. I understood. I accepted it. Why was he rehashing it?

“There’s no need, Liam. I understand.
Please, let’s not talk about it.”

His h
ips rolled sending my back into an arch and tipping my head back. “Okay. I thought we could get something nice after the movie, come back home and have a nice meal.”

“Meal?” God only knew what time that would be.
There was no way was I going to be cooking that late at night! “Liam, by the time I cook and clean, it will be far too late.”

My neck felt cold and bare as he
drew himself away, his forearms resting on either side of my head. Fingers grazed through my hair and I gazed up, watching as ravenous eyes glimmered shrewdly and the corners of his lips tipped. “Whose saying I meant cook, and eat off a plate?”

Huh? My brow furrowed and eyes narrowed.

“It’s lucky neither of us has aversions to dairy because I was thinking, whipped cream…” I thought my eyes were going to pop out of their sockets; my body suddenly shuddered as my mind was tantalized by one single thought. Down my body he slipped, his lips maneuvered over my throat and the swelling of my breasts which were rising and falling rapidly. A groan vibrated through my chest as my breast spilled out from the cup of my bra as he tugged it downward. “Maybe a little raspberry nipple sauce?” he flicked my nipple with the tip of his tongue, the cool air pasted onto the peaking flesh before he took it into the wet heat of his mouth. “I meant, raspberry ripple,” he clarified after a small nip of his teeth.

“Of course
you did,” I gasped, my pelvis pushing upward as finally, sweet friction was made along the substantial, growing bulge in his pants.

Each perfectly placed kiss which was spread over my body had my squirming and
trembling in sweet anticipation. The sound of his voice as he spoke low, husky and in innuendos, alongside his teasing ways of informing me what I was in for, had my thighs glazed with desire.

“But first,” I
studied him as his head got further away and sank between my parted thighs. Before he had me lying back, panting, wanton and splayed, my legs were hooked over his shoulders, while my core was held with his scissoring fingers. I could feel the throb taking my body over like a lustful demon trying to break free. “I fancy eating a little pussy.”

His tongue took one l
ong sweep up my exposed center before orbiting and sucking gently. Head tossed back, my hands clawed into the bedding, my groan of pleasurable approval vibrated from my throat.

As I was lost to Liam and his expert tongue, t
he events of the day were incinerated, never to be remembered again.

December 2011
.

Eighteen months
before the accident…

Where
does time go?

I remember when I was a
child; a year passing would feel like an eternity. The interval between each Christmas would feel like twelve long years, instead of twelve short months. It’s bizarre how as you get older, you become more aware of how quick time actually passes. It goes by in a blink of an eye. Is it because life as an adult is significantly more boring than that in childhood, and the days all seem to meld into one long journey, which makes it feel so? I don’t know. All I know is: one morning I’m waking up and red and golden leaves are snapping from the trees, spiraling down to the cold ground without a care in the world. The next, I’m waking up and every tree is bare, their leaves crumpled on the freezing ground and dusted with what looks like icing-sugar, making them stiff and crunch under your weight.

I was standing in the living room, wistfully pursuing the area which had been our home for three years
. It wasn’t totally empty, the coffee table and rug were still in their designated space, but it felt so…bare.

Memories
, both good and bad, had been created in this very apartment, and now we were leaving. We were moving from Dorchester to somewhere called Bricksdale. I didn’t care for it. I hadn’t even seen the property. Liam went ahead, called all the shots like DeLaney does with his high-strung ways and simply told me to trust him and his judgment.

Having connections in all the right places makes things a whole lot easier. In saying that, having a boyfriend with those connections, makes things twice as difficult for the person who is less inclined to follow through with his requests.

It was simple: I didn’t want to leave. I especially didn’t want to leave a place I felt comfortable, a place I could call my home, for some random place that sounds like it should have a spot on some paranormal television show.

I was told that the move was to be kept a secret, which meant not spilling my guts to my parents or to Brittany. I couldn’t have told Brittany anyway. Since she left us at Logan Airport
over seven weeks ago, I had barely spoken to her. Each time I called her cell there was no answer, so I would call Mom and Dad but there would always be an excuse as to why she couldn’t talk. Feeling as though she was avoiding me for some reason, made my heart ache in my chest. The last encounter, I gave up on attempting to make conversation. It was too challenging with her grunts and monosyllable answers, while the sounds of feeble giggles, as though she was attempting to satisfy my humorous side, spawned nothing but agitation.

Sighing deeply, my attention fell to the crimson stain on the cream rug at the side of the coffee table. I was shaking my head to myself
as I studied the imperfection, silently wondering how one person can be so damn clumsy, when a nudge at my shoulder pulled me from my hypnotic trance. “Hmm,” I sounded from my throat while turning my attention to Laurie. Her purple block-dyed bangs, was now a thing of the past. Orange was apparently the new color of the season.

“Still
couldn’t get it out?” she asked, flicking a quick glimpse to the focal point of my attention.

I shook my head sadly and my voice was just as wistful,
“No. I don’t think it’ll be coming with us, that’s for damn sure.”

“Kady…
” On the tops of my arms she set both hands and stared at me as though she was attempting to read my mind. Her hair piled into a knot atop of her head, her face had a natural glow, even without makeup. “I’m your friend. I may not know you as good as Liv, but I
am
your friend. You can tell me––”

I knew where this was going. The same persuasion tactic had been used
every day for the previous five days, and I was getting somewhat jaded in having to continually repeat and defend myself. Through clenched teeth I simply grunted, “He didn’t hit me Laurie. He wouldn’t lay a hand on me in that way.”

“Then why have you got sticky strips holding that gash above your eye shut, and blood on the carpet?” Her hazel eyes were like
mud-covered stones as her face screwed up and hardened.

At her words I
lifted my left hand, wincing before my fingertips even settled on my flesh. My stomach churned and pain shot through my head when my hesitant fingers delicately caressed the area which was swollen, and looking pretty damn ugly with the purple and red marking outlining it. “I’ve already told you, Laurie,” I muttered and let my hand fall from my head to clutch my right shoulder. “I told him I wasn’t happy with the way he sprang the news that we were moving on me, and only a week before the actual move itself. The fact that he kept something so damn big a secret for so damn long, I…” my words waned as the image of that block jaw tightening and his dark eyebrows knitted as he glowered at me that night, prowling toward me, his finger pointed… “I pushed and pushed on wanting to tell my parents. It’s my own fault, I shouldn’t have pushed him––”