Soultaker (13 page)

She dropped her purse on the table and took the chair next to him, turning it so they were facing each other. “Sorry, I don’t always dress up like this. I was out on a job interview.” Her frown deepened as she studied his face. “Jake, what’s wrong? Where’s Trey? Why aren’t you guys out doing male-bonding stuff?”

Jake laughed. It sounded strange coming out of his mouth. He wasn’t the least amused, nor was there anything funny in what he had to say. “My mother is in jail. She’ll probably be in jail for a long, long time. My brother’s at the police station being interrogated. I had to get out of there. I felt helpless. There was nothing I could do. They said they’d call when they’re through with him.”

Kristen was stunned. “Whoa, whoa, whoa…back up a little, Jake. What the hell’s going on?
Why
is your mother in jail?
Why
are the police questioning Trey?”

So he told her about the events of that afternoon, taking his time, including every detail he could remember. “So that’s
why I’m out of sorts. To understate. I don’t know what’s gonna happen next—Christ, there’s so much to consider—but I suppose I’ll be at least temporarily responsible for Trey.”

Kristen let out a long, low whistle. “My God. How awful. No wonder you’re so out of it.”

Jake smiled. “Oh, I’m always a little out of it. That’s status quo for me. But the reality of what’s happened is just starting to sink in. It’s too strange. I never anticipated anything like this, of course, but I’ve always known my mother is capable of great cruelty.” His face darkened as images of Hal’s mutilated body came back to him. “Someday I’ll tell you my personal experiences with Jolene McAllister’s idea of the proper way to discipline a child.”

Kristen squeezed his hands. “I wish I could make it all better for you.”

Jake looked into her eyes and felt those things one feels in the presence of someone special—a tightness in his chest and a fluttery feeling in his stomach. He wanted to kiss her. Not just on the mouth, but on her eyelids, her chin, all along that delicate, lovely jawline. She must have sensed what he was thinking, because she leaned into him for a kiss. Jake shuddered at the contact. He shifted toward her, sliding to the edge of his chair as he encircled her with his arms and drew her close. The kiss deepened, and she came out of her chair, planting a knee on the edge of Jake’s chair between his legs. She pushed him against the back of the chair, fell against him, and continued kissing him with a breathtaking hunger.

She broke the contact long enough to say, “I know what you need.”

Her eyes blazed with desire matched by Jake’s own. But that familiar voice of common decency spoke within him again. He could not fuck Stu’s sister. Not yet. And not in this house.

Kristen sighed. “Jesus. I can see those wheels spinning behind your eyes again. Listen up, Jake.” She clamped a hand around his jaw and leaned even closer, so close that her mouth brushed his when she spoke. “
Fuck
waiting till we know each other better.
Fuck
every motherfucking thing holding you
back.” The hand clamped around his jaw moved to the back of his head, where she seized a handful of his hair and pulled his head back. She grinned. “Most of all,
fuck me.
”

Her free hand went to his zipper and started to pull it down.

Jake moaned.

He gripped her by the shoulders and, as gently as possible, pushed her back. “We can’t.”

Kristen groaned in disgust. “Christ, Jake, you’re as uptight as my Bible-thumping old granny.”

Jake winced. She was right. And he knew what his real problem was—he was afraid of this next step. It wasn’t so much that it was happening so soon, but that it was happening at all. Intimacy, in his mind, equated with vulnerability. And being vulnerable terrified him. “I’m sorry, Kristen.”

“You’re not getting off the hook so easy. There’s something you don’t know.” There was a wicked glint in her eyes, a hint of secret knowledge. “Stu’s gone. He won’t be back for weeks.”

The revelation dampened Jake’s libido. “What? He just took off? That doesn’t make sense.”

Kristen raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

A furrow in Jake’s brow deepened. Stu had struck Jake as the sturdy, dependable type. His sudden absence stirred the paranoia in Jake’s mind. Something just wasn’t right about this. On the other hand, what reason did he have to suspect something was wrong? “Where did he go?”

“You don’t know my baby brother too well. He’s very impulsive. One of his exes, Lorelei something or other, came into the bar today. One thing led to another. You know how that is.” She grinned. “Anyway, they went away together.”

“Just like that? Won’t he lose his job?”

Kristen shook her head. “No. Stu’s boss, this guy named Russ, is cool about things like that. He and Stu go off camping and hunting all the time. So Stu and Lorelei are gone. They’ll be in a mountain cabin Russ owns in the Rockies for a while. Weeks maybe, as I said.”

Jake’s paranoia eased some. Kristen was right. He didn’t
know Stu very well. Still, it gnawed at him that the guy had vanished so suddenly, and without waiting around long enough to let him know in person what was going on.

But now something else was bothering him. “So…it’s okay if I stay here all that time while he’s gone?”

“Oh, yeah.” She seized the front of his shirt. “That’s not the only thing that’s okay.”

She got to her feet and pulled him out of his chair. She began pulling him toward the living room. Jake stumbled along after her. Some part of him still wanted to stop this. But Kristen was so beautiful. And she so clearly wanted him. There was nothing at all wrong with this. Not really. Kristen tugged him along until they reached the sofa, where he’d seen her sleeping this morning. She shrugged off her blazer, gripped the front of his shirt again, and fell back onto the sofa, pulling him down on top of her. They kissed and writhed on the sofa for a while, dry-humping like teenagers, then she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back, all the way to the far end of the sofa. She smiled. She lifted her ass off the sofa and began to wriggle out of her slacks. Once they were down around her ankles, she kicked them away. Then she kicked off her shoes, braced the soles of her bare feet on the sofa, and spread her legs like a flower.

She parted the lips of her labia with a thumb and forefinger. She licked her lips. “Taste me, Jake.”

Jake shivered.

He couldn’t believe how brazen she was. It excited him. And it frightened him. His heart hammered in his chest. He knelt between Kristen’s legs, and she propped an ankle over his shoulder. He leaned toward her and began. She groaned, almost growled like an animal, and writhed against the sofa. Listening to her fueled Jake’s excitement, and he began to lose himself in the act, all of his previous inhibitions falling away, sloughing off like a shed skin.

Kristen sat up and gripped his neck. “I want you in me. Hurry.”

All Jake could think of now was Kristen and how good being
with her felt. He wanted to get deep inside her and stay there forever, just disappear, fuck the world and his problems away. Of all the ways to escape, what could be better? He pulled his shirt off and cast it aside, then got to his feet and began to push down his jeans.

The phone rang.

The noise broke the spell. Jake’s head turned toward the kitchen. And he remembered what was going on in the world. His mother was in jail and his brother was being interrogated by the police. And what was he doing? He wasn’t looking into his legal obligations. Nor was he doing any of the things a person in his position should be doing. Nope, he was doing what he always did—losing himself in yet another form of intoxication.

Three rings.

Four.

He sighed.

Kristen groaned. “Ignore it.”

Stu’s recorded voice emanated from the answering machine in the kitchen: “You’ve reached the Walker residence. Leave a message at the beep.”

Then the beep, followed by: “Ah…if I have the right number, this message is for Jake McAllister. This is Detective Myers with the Rockville Police Department. I think you should get down here as soon as possible.”

Myers recited his direct line and hung up.

Jake’s shoulders sagged. “Jesus.” He put a hand to his forehead. “What the hell could be wrong now?”

Kristen got to her feet and pressed her body against Jake. She laid her head in the crook of his neck, hooked her hands over his shoulders, and wrapped a leg around him. “Whatever it is, you can handle it.” She stroked his bare chest. “You’re stronger than you think, I bet.”

Jake didn’t reply to that.

The soft tips of her fingers slid down his chest, moved over his deflating cock, and gave it a gentle squeeze. She looked into his eyes. “I’m not through with this.”

Jake made an exasperated sound. “Kristen—”

She shushed him. “Quiet.” She relinquished her hold on him. “You have duty to attend to, I know that.” She smiled. “But I expect you to finish what you started later to night.”

Again, Jake didn’t reply.

The sensation he experienced then was akin to a mental free fall. The world felt shaky beneath his feet. He loved the way this woman’s body felt against his, and he loved being in her arms. She just made him feel good. So why did he have this nagging feeling that plunging headfirst into a sexual relationship with her was a dangerous thing?

He grimaced when she tightened her grip on him and dug her nails into his shoulders.

She drew the nails down his back.

His breath grew shallow as Kristen drew blood.

Trey wanted to die. Through everything, he’d managed to hold on to some shred of sanity by believing he could rescue Myra from whatever horrible force was using her body. But he didn’t believe that anymore. The girl he’d known as a pretty outcast and fellow high school senior had never really existed. Myra was an illusion. A facade. A disguise. Brilliantly conceived and rendered, but a disguise nonetheless. Coming to grips with this should have brought him a mea sure of peace, but it had not. With the well-being of his illusory girlfriend no longer a consideration, his thoughts had initially turned to saving himself. But he knew this wasn’t possible.

So he wanted to die.

He heard it again.

That mad, sadistic laughter inside his head.
Her
laughter. Wherever she was now—and he’d lost track of her earlier in the day—part of her remained with him. Inside him. She was able to reach into his mind regardless of physical proximity. She was privy to his every thought, his every emotion. It was maddening. And terrifying. It made him want to claw out of his own skin.

The cops thought there was something wrong with him. He could see it in their eyes. And it was evident in the way they flinched every time he reacted to Myra’s mental taunts. That one guy, the detective who dressed like a businessman, had put a halt to the interrogation when Trey had slipped and yelled at
Myra to get out of his head. And his court-appointed attorney had said something about an “evaluation.”

Trey knew what that meant. And the prospect of it frightened him almost as much as Myra. They thought he was a head case. So they were gonna lock him up in some padded room, somewhere deep in the bowels of a horror movie madhouse, where he’d spend the rest of his days doped up on tranquilizers, and even that would provide no relief—Myra’s voice would always speak inside his head.

Trey stared at the scratched surface of the interrogation room table. He heard voices in the hallway. One of them was the detective. Myers. His voice was too dim for Trey to distinguish much, but he heard enough to get the gist—Jake was coming back. He still wasn’t sure why his brother had left in the first place. Trey didn’t know the guy very well, but he sensed there was something broken inside him. Not in the usual McAllister way. He was a smart dude. And accomplished. He’d done something with his life. But that sense of something wrong inside him was strong. He didn’t seem able to cope with the harsher side of life. It made Trey sad. If he didn’t get sent to the loony bin, Jake would be expected to take care of him.

Which meant Jake would have to deal with Myra.

And Trey knew his brother would be as powerless against her as anyone else.

Maybe more so.

I can’t let it happen
, he thought.

I have to die
.

The laughter filled his head again.

And this time Myra spoke:
Oh, Trey, such a grandiose sense of importance you have. You were never important, little boy. You were a means to an end. You’ve served your purpose. You want to die? Okay
.

Trey frowned.

Maybe Myra was just fucking with him some more, but he didn’t think so. She got off on making him think his torment would be eternal. She reveled in his pain and humiliation.
He’d been forced to endure agonizing physical punishments. If the police ever got a look at the welts covering his body, they’d assume the marks were inflicted by Jolene. And he’d been made to do such vile things. Though he hadn’t willfully killed anyone, his body had been used as a killing instrument. Even now, if she wanted to, she could pull his strings from afar, make him do something to himself.

Or to someone else.

But now she was through with him?

He flashed back to his suicidal thoughts of a few moments ago, and now he found he didn’t want to die just yet. He had to warn people, let them know what was going on in Rockville. But who would believe his crazy story? The police? Like hell. Jake? Probably not. Kelsey and Will would believe him. But they were kids, too. No adult would ever believe any of them. Still, he would have to try. And soon. If Myra meant to have him killed, he would be killed. There was no way around it. So fuck it, he’d spill his guts to Myers when the detective returned. Caution be damned. Let them toss him in that padded cell and throw away the key. At least he would have tried something. And maybe—just maybe—Myers would be smart enough to take a longer look at some of the odd things that had been going on in his town.

He heard a scuff of boots on the room’s tiled floor. He looked up in time to see the guard posted at the door moving toward him. The uniformed female officer was pulling her service pistol out of its holster.