Read Recovery Online

Authors: Alexandrea Weis

Recovery (13 page)

BOOK: Recovery
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Michael released me and took a step back. “I don’t need Sammy or her connections anymore. Ever since Katrina, everyone in the city is screwed up, and I’m doing quite well now.” He sighed. “Look, I just want to get to know you again, Nicci. You’re a famous author now and quite unlike the girl I knew two years ago. You’re more confident and more insightful than you used to be. Being a writer agrees with you.”

“Writing doesn’t give you greater insight, Michael, it only makes you question yourself even more. If anything, I feel less confident than the girl you knew.” I looked up into his face and was unsure about the warmth I thought I saw there. “You seem so different. To hear you speak like this…I just don’t know what to say.”

He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Just say I have a chance, Nicci. A chance to prove to you that I have changed and that the architect is not the next David.”

Suddenly the music stopped and I nervously scanned the crowd around the dance floor. I felt as if all eyes were on me.

I stared down at the black and white tile beneath my feet, hoping to make a quick exit without having to look once more into Michael’s lifeless eyes. “I should go,” I said, but he grabbed my arm before I could get away.

“Think about it. That’s all I ask.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. “Call me when you’re ready. My cell number is on the back.” He let go of my arm and turned away, quickly departing from the dance floor.

I noticed Dallas had Sammy in his arms not far from me. I left him to his scheming and headed over to the bar at the other end of the room. There I found Uncle Lance and my father waiting for me.

Uncle Lance was sipping some pink concoction from an oversized hurricane glass. “Interesting conversation with the moron?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.” I nodded to the bartender. “Champagne.”

“Dallas seems to be working on Sammy and Eddie,” Uncle Lance reported as he looked across the dance floor to Eddie. “That boy has been watching his mother and your spy boy for over five minutes now.”

I picked up the champagne placed before me and downed the entire glass in one breath.

“Hey!” My father came around to my side. “Take it easy there, Nic.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” I whispered to him.

“Well,” Uncle Lance’s voice broke in, “now it’s gonna get real interesting. Because I think Mount Eddie is about to blow.”

We all turned just in time to see Eddie moving out, or should I say swaying out, onto the dance floor and right up to his mother and Dallas. Sammy smiled sweetly to her little boy and tried to appease his ruffled feathers with a few kind words, but Eddie was not to be soothed so easily. He pretended to turn away, then without warning, Eddie immediately went after Dallas, throwing his body against him. But Dallas was too fast for him and shoved Eddie away, sending the drunken man easily to the floor. Then Eddie was up again, swinging away, with Sammy screaming at him to stop.

Uncle Lance laughed beside me. “Oh, this is good stuff!”

Dallas seemed almost to be toying with the boy. With every swing Eddie threw, Dallas ducked and bobbed out of reach. Finally, Eddie swung a little too hard and spun himself right onto the dance floor. Dallas looked down at the young man sprawled out beneath him. He said something we could not hear and then he started walking away. Sammy then knelt down, trying to help Eddie to his feet.

By this time, every face in the room was riveted on Dallas as he casually strolled across the room. When he reached my side, he turned to my father.

“Are they still watching me?” he asked.

My father nodded.

Dallas took the empty champagne flute from my hand, placed it on the bar, and then took me in his arms.

“Pretend you’re enjoying this,” he murmured against my lips. Then he kissed me.

I just stood there frozen as his lips seared into mine. A blaze ignited inside of me and I felt my lips giving into him, accepting him.

He stopped suddenly, let me go, and took my hand. Dallas turned to my father and whispered, “Time to make our exit.”

My father and uncle started for the elevators. Dallas pulled me alongside of him as we followed behind. Once we were safely inside the elevator and beginning our descent to the lobby, I felt my shoulders sag with relief. Uncle Lance started laughing and my father blew out a long whistle from his lips.

“Boy, when you say you’re going to push buttons, you really mean it,” my uncle declared.

“Well, now we’ve set the trap,” Dallas said as he reached up and undid his tuxedo tie. “Let’s just see which fish bites first.”

Chapter 17

 

Dallas and I compared notes on what we
had discovered that evening on the way home in my father’s car. I told him of my conversation with Michael and could not help but notice how he scowled when I repeated the encounter word for word.

“So the doctor wants to see you again. Good,” Dallas stated.

I held up Michael’s card. “I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Perhaps he never got over you, Nicci.” Dallas chuckled. “Are there anymore forlorn lost loves of yours wandering around the city that I need to know about?”

“Are you kidding!” my father laughed. “Nicci never took an interest in any man until David came along.”

“That’s not true,” Uncle Lance corrected. “There was that Elliot guy a few years back. I seem to remember she was pretty infatuated with him.”

“She was ten, Lance!” my father yelled.

Uncle Lance shrugged. “Maybe we should shake him down while we’re at it. Perhaps he turned into some kind of serial killer.”

“Let’s stick with the suspects at hand,” Dallas suggested. “And Nicci, don’t ever lower your defenses like that again. You must provoke him to find out what he’s truly thinking. Remember what we came here to do.” He paused for a moment and then nodded his head thoughtfully. “But it may be better if you and the doctor had a little time to yourselves.”

I groaned silently to myself.

My father spoke up from behind the wheel. “So Michael is still a strong suspect?”

Dallas observed him through the rearview mirror. “He sure has a motive. Maybe he thought by taking David out of the picture Nicci would come back to him.”

“Eddie could have thought the same thing,” Uncle Lance offered from the front seat.

Dallas glanced over to Uncle Lance. “Yes, but Eddie never had Nicci to lose. The doctor did.”

“So you have ruled out Eddie?” I asked as I gazed out to the rainy street.

“Not yet,” Dallas replied. “Eddie could have been pushed into killing David by his mother. She’s got a strong hold over that boy.”

“And Sammy?” my father inquired.

Dallas grinned. “I’m still trying to figure her out.”

I looked over at his profile. “What did you say to Eddie when he was laid out on the dance floor, before you walked away?”

He turned his attention to the dark streets outside. “I told him to stay the hell away from you. I said you belong to me.”

I shook my head. “He won’t like hearing that.”

“Not to worry,” Dallas whispered. “It’s all part of my plan.”

After some celebratory toasts at midnight and a few hugs and kisses had been exchanged, everyone went upstairs to bed. But I could not sleep. I lay in my bed reflecting on all of the events that had transpired that evening. How Sammy had hungered over Dallas. About Michael and all the things he had said to me. The anger in Eddie’s face as he watched his mother dancing with Dallas, and the way Eddie looked sprawled out on the dance floor.

It was hard for me to believe it had been over two years since I had associated with any of these people. Because in one night I felt as if I had gone back in time to the days when David had entered my life; the same characters, the same hate, the same envy, and the same pitiful displays of disdain. Nothing had changed; nothing except for me. Before I would have wilted under Michael’s glances, tried to soothe Eddie’s angry tirades, and felt the same loathing for Sammy that everyone else in town shared. But now I felt nothing. If anything, I felt pity for these people because I had moved on. I had put the past in perspective, and it was not so much that I had forgiven them, but I had forgotten them.

No longer able to stand the restlessness of my mind, I quietly got up from the bed, making sure I did not disturb Dallas. I put on my blue robe and quickly snuck out of my bedroom. I went downstairs to the bar in the den hoping a drink would settle my uneasiness and help me sleep. I decided as I poured my vodka and orange juice that this was going to be my private toast to the New Year. Tonight at the party, I had discovered something about myself. I had learned that I was finally over all of them, over all of the people who had so encumbered my past. Perhaps, I told myself, I was even over David.

Because tonight I had felt no fleeting moments of sadness as I scrutinized the faces at the party, and had not seen David’s eyes on me. I was not mournful at midnight, longing for his presence among those I loved. I had my memories, but the overwhelming emptiness I had felt in my heart after his death had faded away. I was no longer David’s Nicci; I was just Nicci again. I did not feel quite whole yet, but I no longer felt ripped in two.

With my glass held high, I silently toasted the coming year. I started thinking of what I wanted to change in my life and I remembered Val’s words at Christmas. I had been holding on to too many things that had reminded me of David, and it was time to let go.

And Dallas. The thought popped into my head as if sent by a divine herald. His image brought a smile to my lips and a warmth to my, ah, heart. I thought about the way his body felt against mine and how he stirred something inside of me. And those damned eyes of his, haunting my mind day and night.

“Maybe if Dallas were the last man on earth,” I mumbled to the darkness surrounding me.

“That can be arranged,” a husky voice said from behind me.

I spun around on my stool to see Dallas standing in the doorway of the den wearing only his pajama bottoms.

“What are you doing up?” I asked, pretending I had not heard his comment.

He came toward me. “Looking for you.” He took the glass from my hand, went around the bar, and dumped the contents into the sink. “The booze won’t help, Nicci,” he added.

“Help what?”

“Help you to forget about me. Trust me, it’s not a substitute for what you want.”

I laughed nervously. “Oh, and you’re an expert on what I want?”

He came around the bar and positioned himself right in front of my stool. “I know you want me. Just as much as I want you.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “You want me? You’ve got a strange way of showing it.”

He grabbed for the belt on my robe. “You know you really got under my skin in New York.” He began to play with the knot in my belt. “I was downing the drinks pretty much like you are now, but I decided then that sooner or later we would become lovers.” He placed his hands on the bar behind me, pinning me between his long arms. His mouth was inches from my ear. “So why don’t we stop playing these games?”

I struggled to find a way out of his arms. “I’m not playing games, you are. You’re just trying to push my buttons now, aren’t you?”

He leaned back slightly so his face met mine. “All right, I’ll stop. I’ll become the charming gentleman you want me to be; just tell me what I want to hear.” He let his lips linger over mine. “Tell me you want me, Nicci.”

Suddenly I was flooded with a memory of David and me sitting at the same bar, feeling the same surge of hormones, wanting each other in the same way.

I pushed him away. “Stop it, Dallas.”

“What is it?” he asked angrily, grabbing my chin and making me look into his eyes. “Am I threatening your precious memories?” He moved in closer to me, placing his hands between my legs. “I’m tired of waiting for you. Tired of wanting you. Forget the past for once.”

“How could you understand—”

But I never got to finish my words. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. My lips quivered under his. I willed my body to resist him, but I couldn’t. The surge of guilt inside of me quickly receded away as his lips left mine and traveled down my neck. He drove his teeth into my exposed flesh, and I groaned against his hair.

“I’m very good at what I do. I can make you tell me what I want to hear,” he murmured against my skin.

“What are you going to do? Torture me until I give in?”

He bit down on my earlobe. “I’m a very tenacious man.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

He pushed me back against the bar and untied the knot on the belt of my robe. I grabbed his hands to stop him, but his mouth was on mine again, weakening my resolve. The robe fell to the floor and my body shivered reflexively against the chilly air in the room. He pushed my nightshirt up and let his hands travel down my naked body, teasing my flesh with the heat from his fingertips. He wrapped his hands around my lower back and pressed his hips into mine.

“Ready to give in?” he whispered into my ear.

“Never,” I avowed as I tucked my head into his neck and let my teeth tease his skin.

“I have asked you nicely.” He spread my legs wide before him. “And now you will pay, dearly.”

He forced my body back against the bar as he placed his mouth over my right nipple and bit down hard. Then his hand reached down between my legs and he drove his fingers deep inside me. My body responded with urgency to his touch. I lost myself in the sensations beginning to envelop me. I forgot about everything around me, and I reveled in my oblivion.

His lips were inches from mine. “I can make this go on all night.”

I reached up and pulled his mouth to mine. I could feel his lips give way as the tension in my body mounted. I let go and gave myself over to the climax rising up from the deepest recesses in my body.

Suddenly he stopped. He pushed me away and took a step back.

“What?” I asked breathlessly, looking up into his face.

The coldness of winter had returned to his eyes. He observed me for several seconds and then he grinned.

“Tell me what I want to hear and I will continue.”

“Why, you son of a bitch,” I cursed then reached down to grab my robe from the floor, and quickly covered myself.

“Very well, Nicci. If that’s how you want it.” He turned away from me and walked directly out of the den.

I was standing at the bar still struggling to tie the belt on my robe as I heard his footsteps travel up the stairs and down the second-floor hallway to my room. I shook my head, silently chastising myself. He had gotten to me and he knew it. I wanted him and he knew it.

“Bastard!” I cursed loudly into the empty room. “If you think…”

I let the words melt away as I marched out of the den and up the stairs. When I reached my bedroom, I pushed hard against the door, letting it swing open with a thud.

“If you think,” I said as I made my way into my room, “that I am going to let you use me as some kind of diversion then—”

“A very intriguing diversion,” he interrupted, lying naked from the waist up beneath the sheets in the bed before me.

Then I noticed his pajama bottoms had been unceremoniously discarded on the floor next to the bed.

“Tell me you want me, Nicci.”

I could feel the anger surging inside of me. Anger mixed with a tantalizing stab of excitement.

I shook my head. “Do the words matter?”

He sat up in the bed, never taking his eyes off mine. “They matter to me,” he said softly.

The muscles in his chest flexed as he stretched his long arm out on the sheet beside him, inviting me to join him. His body was lean and firm and I felt myself slowly giving in to that overpowering ache inside of me.

I walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. I studied his face for a moment, eager to see some hint of emotion fan up in those guarded eyes.

“Why do you need to hear those words?” I asked.

“Because when you say them, you’ll be mine. So repeat after me, I—”

“I,” I repeated, rolling my eyes.

“Want—” He shimmied his body up against mine.

“Want.” I moved my mouth closer to his. “You.”

“It’s about damn time,” he whispered.

He smiled a warm, devious smile that made my stomach leap. He pulled my face to his and closed his mouth over mine.

Then the funniest thing happened. Here I was in the arms of an attractive man, about to do something I desperately desired, but all I could think about was David. Guilt like an out-of-control semi on an icy freeway slammed into my chest and suddenly the room began to spin.

I shoved Dallas away with both hands and sat up in the bed. I grabbed the robe that had fallen from my shoulder and quickly wrapped myself up like a mummy. I took a few deep breaths and then turned to Dallas.

He lay there staring at me. There was no expression of surprise on his face, no angry scowl, nothing.

I rubbed my face in my hands. “I don’t think I can do this, Dallas. Don’t get me wrong, I want to…” I left the sentence unfinished.

“Want to, but you can’t. Is that it?”

I nodded and stood from the bed suddenly feeling very cheap and dirty. “I know that sounds stupid…”

He sat up. “I understand, Nicci. You’re not ready.”

“Was it like this for you after Carol?”

A glint of anger passed over his face, and then as quickly as it had appeared it was gone. “It’s different for men, Nicci. For me it’s just sex, for you…perhaps it’s better we don’t get too involved. It will just make things harder for you when the job is over and we go back to our separate lives.” He threw the covers off, revealing his naked body to me. He then grabbed for his pajamas on the floor.

BOOK: Recovery
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