Sinful Suspense Box Set (54 page)

BOOK: Sinful Suspense Box Set
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Chapter 18

It turned out
that hiding in plain sight was easier than I’d expected. We strolled through another small town and along the highway, with hardly a glance our direction. And the small towns were not overrun with police, which helped. We were probably in more danger of Frank finding us than the cops. The latter would be much less deadly.

Before her act had been uncovered, someone from Sugar’s adopted family had let her know where the best motels were. Although the information had been more for her two unsocial traveling companions because just as they’d fought over having her on their relay team, they’d also argued about who she would stay with during her visit.

I was a fugitive, and Julian looked like what he was, a man who’d run off from a hospital. So Sugar took the money and went inside to get us a room. A good night’s sleep and showers would clear our heads enough to decide what to do next. With luck, there would be something incriminating in Kirkendall’s email, and this would all be over soon. I wondered if my parents had already disowned me completely. Couldn’t blame them if they had, except it would have been nice if my dad had actually listened for a change so I could have explained this nightmare.

Sugar came out with two keys in her hand. “There’s only one double bed in each room, and the manager said for three people I had to rent two rooms. Forty a night for each.”

“We’ll be out of money fast at that rate. I’m pretty sure using my credit card is out. Damn the internet. Nineteenth century fugitives had it much easier. And they got to swing from the gallows.”

“Shit, Tommy, don’t start that subject again. I just want a shower and a bed.” Sugar tromped along the covered hallway that led to our rooms. They were next door to each other, and there was a connecting door between them. Each room had a hard, uncomfortable bed, flat pillows, flowery bedspread and faded curtains. The televisions looked like the kind that would need antennas to work properly. But, while the decor of the room was straight out of the last century, surprisingly, the room came with free wi-fi. We stood there looking around at our accommodations, and suddenly, the awkward question of who slept where came up.

I looked at Julian. “I guess we’ll be roomies?” My head was thinking only about Sugar sleeping in the room next door and how that would be nothing short of torture.

“Looks like there isn’t much choice,” Julian grunted.

Sugar picked up the backpack, our communal suitcase. “I’m going to
my
room to shower. I smell like pancakes and bacon. You boys have fun.” Sugar standing naked under running water just a few feet away, another notion to slowly drain the life from me.

She disappeared into the next room, leaving the door between open.

Julian set his computer up on the small table in the room. The motel paperwork had come with a password for the internet. “There’s still battery power,” Julian said, as he turned on the laptop. “Then I’ll need a power cord, or this thing will just be a paperweight.”

I pulled a chair up next to Julian. He glanced back at me with an annoyed expression. I lifted my hands. “What? Would you rather I didn’t look?”

He didn’t need to answer. I backed up the chair and crossed my arms. “Fine, just let me know if it’s something that will help save my ass.”

Julian hunched down to look at the monitor. The muscles in his back relaxed. He’d found his drug of choice. His computer. He’d carried it with him just as I’d carried the whiskey. He clicked around for a few seconds and then stopped to read something. His shoulders bunched up again. “Dr. Kirkendall’s mother was a professional midwife. They help women deliver babies at home instead of in a hospital.”

“I knew all that. She told me about it during one of our sessions. Her mom was hit by a car when she was a little girl.”

Quiet tension rose up in waves off of Julian as he leaned down over his computer.

“Jules, is that what the email was about? Kind of strange, don’t you think? I mean what would it have to do with you?”

He didn’t answer. The frozen silence around him had me worried. “Jules?”

He leaned back but didn’t face me. “Her mother was the midwife who delivered my brother and me. We were born at home. Her mom died just a few weeks after she helped with the delivery.”

“Wow, what a coincidence that Kirkendall ended up working at Green Willow.”

He shook his head. “Wasn’t a coincidence.”

“What do you mean?” I scooted up to the computer.

Julian pushed the top of his laptop back to get a better view of the screen. He read what she wrote. “Julian, you’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all of this. I came to Green Willow for the sole purpose of getting to the bottom of a mystery, a horrible secret that I believe was the reason behind my mom’s death. Four months ago, I got a call from a stranger. He claimed to have been a police officer on duty the day my mom was run down by a car. He told me that he’d written the original report as a possible homicide because the driver had had plenty of time to stop. Witnesses saw the car increase in speed and head straight toward my mother. But somehow, his original report was rewritten to say accident. The file was closed quickly after that. My source told me he was sure someone higher up in his department had been paid to change the details of the report.”

I dropped back against the chair. “Shit.” I looked over at Julian. He was still staring at the words as if they were jumping off the page and hitting him over the head. “There are still so many pieces missing.”

“No. I think the pieces are here. Just have to put them together.” He tapped the keypad. “There’s a document attached.” He clicked it, and the scanned copy of an official document popped up. Simultaneously, we leaned forward to read it. It was a death certificate for Justin Fitzpatrick.

“Was that your brother’s name?”

He nodded. We silently looked over the document. It all seemed in order. Parents’ names, city and state, and date pronounced dead, May 5th, 1989 and place of death marked as decedent’s home. It matched the birth date, which would be logical for a baby that was stillborn. 

I pointed to the physician’s name, a Dr. Quisenberry. “That’s a strange name. Was he your family doctor?”

Julian shook his head. “Never heard of him. He was just the physician to pronounce Justin dead.”

“It says the immediate cause of death was nuchal cord from twin’s umbilical. I take it that means your cord strangled him?”

“Yes.” He leaned closer and pointed to the next line. “What I don’t understand are the lines below. They list various birth defects, including cleft palate and limb reduction.” He sat back and his face was several shades lighter. “No one ever mentioned that my brother was born with birth defects.”

In the description, the doctor noted that the infant was born at home under the supervision of a licensed midwife, Kelly Kirkendall, and that no other trained medical personnel were present. This was taking a huge toll on Julian, who was already dealing with the agony of drug withdrawal. He looked close to puking again. “Do you think your parents tried to sue the midwife or get back at her for not delivering a live baby?”

Julian lifted off his cap and scrubbed his hair with his fingers. It stuck up in sweaty spikes on his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what the hell any of this means.” His eyes dusted across the monitor and then he dropped forward again. He stared at the death certificate. “Wait. What the hell?”

“What is it?”

“It says the date of birth and death was May 5th, 1989. Our birthday is May 3rd. We were born on the third. Not the fifth.”

“Maybe you’ve been celebrating it on the wrong day?” I suggested unhelpfully.

“Impossible. I’ve seen my birth certificate.”

“Yeah, that is weird then. Maybe the doctor just made a mistake.” I looked at the physician’s name again. “This is an unusual name. I’ll bet we could locate the man and see if he remembers anything about your brother’s death. After all, it isn’t something that happens often.”

Julian clicked out of the email and snapped his computer shut. He’d had enough. It was too much to take in, especially with the physical state he was in.

Sugar had given me one of the joints, and I pulled it out of my pocket. Julian glanced sideways at it.

“Ever tried it?” I asked.

“Already had enough stuff pumping through my bloodstream.”

“Well, that’s not the case anymore. It’ll help take the edge off, and it eases the nausea too. Just a few hits and maybe all of this will go down a little easier.”

He hadn’t said
yes
but I hadn’t heard
no
either. He plodded, with feet that seemed to be weighted down with bricks, to the bed, pulled back the covers and flopped down. The shower had stopped, and I heard Sugar moving around next door. I sat on the floor with my back resting against the side of the bed. I lit the joint. My fingers actually shook slightly with anticipation.

I sucked in a long hit and closed my eyes, holding it in and imagining it coursing through my veins and to my head and limbs. I released my breath. The buzz was almost instant. I turned around. Julian didn’t lift his head off the pillow as he dropped it to the side to look at me. I held the joint up. With plenty of hesitation, he lifted his long, trembling fingers and took hold of it. He glanced in disgust at the moist tip where my mouth had been. I was sure he’d hand it back to me. But he put it between his lips and sucked in a long breath. Seconds later, he popped up to complete the coughing fit that came with the hit.

“You’re going to feel that one, buddy. You’ll thank me later.”

His face was red, and his eyes were watery as he handed it back to me. He dropped his head back against the pillow and shut his eyes. I turned back around just as Sugar walked in from the other room.

“Je-e-ezus,” I groaned.

With long wet hair and wearing nothing but a tight t-shirt and a pair of panties with a daisy print, Sugar crossed the room to me. I stared up at her, just buzzed enough to wonder if the vision in front of me was purely imaginary.

“I had to wash my shorts.” She glanced down at her panties. “Like them?”

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” I took another hit, thinking I needed something to numb me and fast. I held in the smoke, but I couldn’t look away. My pulse pounded a drumbeat in my head. “Knowing those panties were stolen makes them that much hotter.” I looked back. Julian had turned his head to the side. He was staring at Sugar too.

Sugar smiled. “Jules, you look high. Did this guy corrupt you already?”

“I’m corrupting him? I didn’t just walk in here in a nearly see through t-shirt and flowery panties.”

“Thank god,” Julian muttered. “I don’t understand the draw of this stuff. My head hurts. Nice panties, by the way.” He closed his eyes.

Then, without warning, Sugar stepped closer and straddled my thighs with her long legs. She sat on her knees facing me. She plucked the joint from my fingers, and in an attempt to hold myself together and avoid looking down at her barely dressed body, I stared straight at her face as she took a hit. Her blue eyes watched me through a thin veil of smoke and her pink lips curled up on the side. She knew exactly what she was doing.

I couldn’t say anything. My throat had clenched into a knot, and all I could think was— the girl I wanted like a crazy fucking addictive drug was sitting across my legs, inches from my hands and mouth.

Her amused smile faded, and her blue gaze softened. She reached up and trailed her fingertips along the red mark she’d left on my face the night before. Then she lowered her hand. She didn’t need to say anything. We were locked in one of our silent conversations, and this one was more intense than ever.

I uncurled my fingers and lifted my hand. I slid it under her shirt. It was all I would allow myself right now, a touch, a caress. Any more would take me straight over the edge. Her skin was creamy silk beneath my fingers as I continued up to the bottom curve of her breast. She pulled in a breath, but I could barely hear it over my thunderous heartbeat. Her nipple hardened as my thumb stroked it. Her long lashes curtained her eyes as I teased her. She lifted her hand and pushed it under her shirt. For one disappointed moment, I thought she’d pull my hand away from her. But she didn’t. She placed her hand over mine and pressed it tighter against her. Her blue eyes were watching me now, in my complete fucking delirium, touching the girl who had basically wrapped herself around my heart. I’d spent so many damn hours dreaming about touching her, I was still unsure if this was happening. She lowered her hand and pressed her breast harder against my palm.

“Tommy,” she whispered. The sound of it went straight through me, producing a dull ache in my chest.

A light snore came from the bed. The one toke had helped Julian find some much needed sleep.

Sugar took hold of my hand. This time she removed it from under her shirt. She stood up and I followed. She extinguished the joint on an ashtray and led me to the next room. We walked at a slow, casual pace as if my heart wasn’t slamming against my ribcage and as if every muscle in my body wasn’t bound tight, ready to erupt with energy. The second we stepped into the other room, I pushed the door shut, and spun around, trapping Sugar’s seductively clad body between me and the wall. I braced my hands against the cold plaster on each side of her. My fingers had curled into fists again, a defense mechanism I’d developed at Green Willow when the urge to touch her had nearly overwhelmed me. My breaths were coming in long labored tugs as I peered down at her.

“I w-w-won’t be able to stop, Sugar.” I pounded the wall once in frustration and sucked in a deep breath to get the words out smoothly. “After all this time—” I swallowed hard. “Once this starts, once the fucking fuse is lit, there’s only one way this can end. I just want to make sure you know that.” My voice sounded like gravel under tires, gritty and strained.

Her blue eyes held a mix of emotions. This time I couldn’t read her thoughts.

“I just need to know that if I say ‘baby, spread your legs—’”

She pressed her finger against my mouth. “I’ll answer— how far?” She smiled weakly. “I seem to remember a promise of a kiss that’ll knock my socks off.”

Her light words helped ease the tension, the sense of urgency that scared even me. I glanced down at her feet. “You’re not wearing any socks.”

She looked pointedly down at her panties before lifting her gaze to me again. “I guess we’ll have to improvise.”

“Fucking hell, Sugar.” I took hold of her face and covered her mouth with mine. Instantly, she melted against me and I wrapped my arms around her. She parted her lips. I drove my tongue deeper as small sounds rolled up from her throat, sounds that made me so fucking hard, I was in agony.

I reached down and pulled her shirt up and off. I could hardly get in a straight thought as I swept my hands over her back and arms, the naked skin of the girl who had invaded my soul so soundly there was no releasing her without losing a part of myself as well.

She looked shyly up at me, and I thought what a contradiction it was, Sugar acting modest. With one swift move, she’d pushed her panties to the ground. I took hold of her hands and held them out to the sides. I wanted to see all of her, every irresistible curve and hollow. My gaze dropped down to her pussy, a swirl of soft brown curls and the sweet mound that went with them.

She reached forward, took hold of my hand and pressed it between her thighs. My fingers dragged through the warm moisture collecting between the folds of her pussy. She’d just tucked my hand between her legs, but she blinked up at me with innocence. “You see, Tommy, I want this just as badly as you.” She sighed softly as I took my hand from between her legs, but not without dragging my finger over her clit first.

“God, you’re going to make me come before I even get my pants off.”

I released her hands and yanked off my shirt. She immediately stepped forward and drew her fingers along the base of my throat and along the muscles of my chest. I felt her light touch through every cell in my body. My rock hard cock strained against my fly.

Sugar reached up and curled her hands around my head and brought my mouth down to hers. I grabbed hold of her and lifted her up as she wrapped her legs around my waist. I kissed her all the way to the bed. I lowered her onto the mattress. She stretched out luxuriously, arching her back and knowing exactly how to move to get the most physical reaction from me.

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