Sixth Grave on the Edge (22 page)

“Why?”

“Because my biological parents were supposed to move here. It was why I chose them. Then, after I’m abducted, I end up here anyway?”

I leaned against the thick lamppost. “That can’t be a coincidence. What happened next?”

“The Fosters were here for a while. They’d met the neighbors. Joined a church. Started making friends. But Mr. Foster’s family started getting suspicious. They wanted to see him. They never liked his wife and were worried she was dangerous, so they planned a trip to visit. And since the Fosters suddenly had a child the exact age of the abducted child from their state, they realized they’d get caught. So, they sold me.”

“They just … up and sold you? Like, on eBay?”

“That is one piece of the puzzle I haven’t quite figured out yet. Maybe Mr. Foster met someone who helped them. Who knows? Either way, I think the plan was just to sell me and be done with it, but a neighbor saw a suspicious-looking man leave out the back door with me. She thought I was being kidnapped, so she called the police. They showed up, the Fosters panicked and said, yes, their baby was gone, and the rest is history.”

“Reyes, this is insane. What about Mr. Foster’s family? They didn’t catch on that he’d also had a mysterious child abducted?”

“Believe it or not, it never reached them. Children are abducted all the time. How many have you seen, especially from across the country? Even today, during the age of information, we hardly ever see the faces of missing children. Did you know there are over two thousand people reported missing every single day? How many do you see in the news?”

“Still,” I said, completely taken aback, “how did the cops not make the connection? You had the markings, the map to the gates of hell on your skin.”

“Yes, but when I was born, they were very light. So light, they were impossible for the naked eye to see. They grew darker as I got older. By the time the Fosters sold me, they resembled a very light birthmark. Nothing like they are now.”

I lowered myself onto a box just as the first drops of rain fell from the sky. “This is just insane. The Fosters seemed so nice on paper and in their interviews.” I shook an index finger, remembering what Sack had said. “Agent Carson said her father got a bad feeling from that whole case, like something else was going on that he couldn’t quite put a finger on.”

“Sounds like he was a good agent.”

“You were going to end up here anyway? So that we’d grow up together and go to the same schools?”

He packed up the tools he’d carried out and looked up at the sky. Droplets of rain left tiny rivulets on his face and arms. “My biological father was going to be transferred to Albuquerque. But after I was abducted, they decided to stay in North Carolina and hope the police found me. They never left.”

I jumped to my feet. “They’re still there?”

“Yes.”

“Have you gone to them, Reyes?” I stepped closer as he looked down at me. “Have you told them who you are?”

The expression he gave me stopped me in my tracks. “Why would I do that?”

“Why would you—?” I stopped, flabbergasted he had to ask. “Reyes, they should know that you’re okay. They have the right to know that.”

“They have a right to live out their days happy and none the wiser.”

I could not believe any of this. “Why would you leave them in the dark like that all these years?”

The heat of his anger warmed the cool drops of rain as they fell softly to the ground. “They aren’t my real parents, Dutch. You know that.”

“But you chose them.”

“I chose the woman to be a vessel, that’s all.”

There was more to it than that. I could feel the mixed emotions swirling inside him. I could feel anger and resentment and doubt. “That’s not entirely true,” I said to him.

His emotions were too strong to block, and that angered him even more.

He turned away from me to pick up the toolbox, but I stopped him, took his hand into mine, brought it to my face to caress it. “Reyes, you have to tell them. You have to ease their pain. Their uncertainty.”

Raindrops dripped off his impossibly long lashes, his dark eyes glittering underneath them. “Why would they want me, Dutch? What would it do to them to know my true identity?”

While I completely disagreed, I just wanted to convince him to open up. To tell them. The rest could come later. “You don’t have to tell them what you are.”

“I don’t mean just that.” He turned away from me. “I’ve spent the last ten years in prison.”

I stepped around, forced him to face me. “For a crime you didn’t commit.”

“I still have the stench of prison on me. Inmates are different. They act different. Their social skills aren’t exactly up to par. They would know.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not.” He took hold of my arm, his demeanor changing on a dime. “And I don’t want you to tell them either. This is my life, Dutch. I do not want you to interfere, do you understand?”

No matter how much I wanted to, I had to respect that. If he didn’t want to meet his biological parents, I could not force the issue. He had every right to his privacy, but the thought of them still in pain after all these years, still not knowing what had happened to their baby, broke my heart. There was a lot to be said for closure. Leaving it as it stood was like leaving a gaping wound, well, gaping. Surely there was a way around his wishes, of just letting them know that their son was safe and doing well—very well, in fact—without giving away his identity.

“Promise me,” he said, taking hold of my other shoulder.

Before I could make that promise, another thought hit me. “Oh, my goodness, what about the son they have now? The Fosters? Is he even really theirs?”

“I have no idea.” He let go of my shoulders and crossed his arms. “I have a feeling he was abducted as well, since he is blond and they’re both dark.”

“Holy crap on Communion bread. This is just so wrong. They have to be stopped.”

“Is this your way of getting out of promising me you’ll keep that little nose out of it?”

“What? Me? Wow, look at this rain.”

“Dutch,” he said, his deep, sexy voice all deep and, well, sexy. The soft rain had molded the once-white T-shirt to him as though it were form-fitted to the expanse of his shoulders, to the tapering at his waist. “You may regret looking at me like that.”

My gaze bounced back up to his face. It didn’t help. “I could never regret looking at you.”

He frowned as though he didn’t understand. “Why?” he asked, completely serious.

And I was lost. I leapt into his arms, quite literally, and pressed my mouth to his. He fought a smile for a moment, returned my kiss enthusiastically, then backed me against his car. One hand instantly sought out the weight of Danger. He coaxed her to attention with a thumb. His mouth, so hot against mine, left to suckle her crest and only then did I realize he’d unbuttoned my shirt and released both Danger and Will from their confines.

The fact that we were outside didn’t even register. The blistering heat of his kiss engulfed me as he suckled Danger. She tightened under his ministrations, hardening so fast, I almost cried out. The jolt of ecstasy was overwhelming. He switched to Will and then back again, offering them both the same amount of attention. Each time he drew on a pink crest, I felt a cutting bite of arousal lance through me. I looked down at him as he kneaded and suckled, his exquisite mouth beautiful against my pale flesh. But it was his teeth grazing across their hardened peaks that was my undoing. In one quick burst, the bittersweet sting of orgasm rocketed through me, colliding like fire and ice during a hurricane.

A scream I could not stop wrenched from my throat. Never. Never in my life had I ever climaxed in such a way. I gasped in utter astonishment as the orgasm pulsated through me like a waterfall of pleasure. It slowly ebbed, leaving me quaking in its wake, and yet I wanted more. Always more when it came to Reyes Alexander Farrow.

His mouth descended onto mine and I wrapped my arms around his head as he laid me back, easing me onto the hood of his car. Before he could rise off me, I reached down and fondled the erection that his pants could barely contain. He sucked in a sharp breath, the air it stirred suddenly cool against my lips, causing another wave of raw desire to ripple through me. Before I knew it, he had peeled off my pants. How he managed that stuff without my notice amazed me, but I lay on his car, half naked, gasping and spent when, without the slightest bit of fanfare, he entered me in one long stroke.

I seized and clutched him to me, the sharp spike of need obliterating my self-control once again. He stayed there, buried inside me, allowing my body to adjust to the fullness of his erection until I grabbed handfuls of hair, bit his shoulder, and shoved my hips against his, forcing him even deeper.

He growled against my ear, wrapped one arm under a knee, and drove into me again and again with quick, short bursts, coaxing the heat in my abdomen to swell, to swirl and churn, building with each thrust like the pressure from a volcano of molten lava about to erupt. My nipples were still sensitive. They rubbed against his chest with each thrust, doing their part to milk me to the edge once again.

The muscles in Reyes’s powerful shoulders flexed under the strain of his efforts. His breaths grew ragged, more and more labored as he forced me to still under his viselike grip. I dug my nails into his flesh, urging him faster, begging him not to stop. Never to stop. His expression was one of agony as he bit back his own need to coerce me into another explosive climax. I buried my face in the crook of his neck as the fever inside me rose and burst like a floodtide crashing through a dam. Reyes growled again as his own climax shuddered through him. He trembled against me, his anguish just as powerful as mine, just as intoxicating. He held on to me so tight, it was almost painful and served only to send the crest of my orgasm higher. I rode it, reveling in the exhilaration that flooded me body and soul until ever so gently it ebbed, dissipating completely over the span of several heartbeats.

Reyes’s breathing slowed, as did the rain. It tapped out a soft, melodic pattern against the ’Cuda as we lay there, limbs tangled, clothes askew. What little we had on, anyway. He leaned up and kissed me then, long and hard and deep, as though to thank me. As though to reinforce the fact that he needed me as much as I needed him.

When he rose, I brushed my fingertips over his cheek and whispered, “That was somewhat amazing.”

His teeth flashed brilliant in the darkness. “You are somewhat amazing.”

I’d take it. I was totally busy staring into his eyes when I heard a chime. It registered somewhere in the back of my mind, but didn’t quite make it into conscious thought until I heard the sound again.

“That’s my phone,” I said to him.

He eased me off the hood and kept hold of me until I gained my balance. It took a moment to locate my pants, but once I did, I fished my phone out of my pocket, prayed the rain hadn’t ruined it, and checked my texts. An expletive I couldn’t repeat in public splashed across the screen. I screeched, covered my mouth with one hand, then said through my fingers, “I forgot about Uncle Bob!”

14

The fastest way to a man’s heart is by

tearing a hole through his rib cage.

—T-SHIRT

I hurried in through the back of the bar, soaking wet and squishy, and found Uncle Bob sitting at the bar. After spotting Cookie with her “date” in a dark corner, I began to grow worried, wondering if Ubie had seen them. That was the whole point, after all. Both seats beside Ubie were taken, and there were only a couple of seats to be had at all. And zero, absolutely zero, tables left. I took a seat one over from him. In between us sat a fortyish man with a nice suit and too much cologne. He perked up when I sat down, then looked at me and changed his mind, deciding his drink was more interesting. I glanced in the mirror behind the bar and understood. Not only was I a mess, but my makeup was smeared (on only one eye), my hair (which had been pulled up) was lopsided and hung off to the side like a deflated balloon, and my shirt was on backwards. And it was a button-down. How was that even possible? Did I take off my shirt?

“Hey, Uncle Bob,” I said over the guy who stiffened and leaned back a little, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Hey, pumpkin. Where’ve you been?

“Out back.”

“That wasn’t you having sex in the alley, was it? We got a call.”

Alarm pushed my stomach into my throat. I lunged forward, practically lying across the guy’s lap. “Really? Someone called the cops?”

“No,” he said into his drink. “It was a hunch. I’m good at hunches.”

“Uncle Bob!” I said, my voice a mere squeak.

I needed to know he saw Cookie without him knowing I needed to know. If he just looked at me, he’d see her. She was to my right. No way could he miss her, but he was busy nursing his drink. I cleared my throat and spoke above the crowd while summoning Teri, the bartender. “What did you find out about the woman in WITSEC?”

“Not a lot. They don’t just give out that kind of information. But I did discover one thing about your guy.”

“My guy? I have a guy? Can I get a coffee with extra coffee?” I asked Teri when she got to me.

She winked and poured. “Sure thing, hon.”

I fell a little in love with her at that moment. “What’s that?” I asked Ubie.

“He sells a lot of cars.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t really help me.” He still would not look my way. I cleared my throat again. Coughed. Had a small seizure. The man was doing it on purpose. Realization washed over me. That was
why
he wasn’t looking at me. He
had
seen her.

Uncle Bob’s phone rang and he picked it up. I glanced over at Cookie. She had a where-the-fuck-you-been? look on her face. I shrugged. She shrugged back. I pointed toward the door that led to the alley, wriggled my brows, then did the universal sign for sex, poking an index finger through the hole I’d made with the other hand. Both she and her date started laughing before he gave me a thumbs-up.

The man beside me spoke. “Would you like to switch?”