The Darkest Danger (Shattered Series Book 2) (17 page)

     A speculative gleam shone in his eyes. “It’s good that we have that settled,” he murmured, searching her face. “I meant what I said before. You will only find me there if you give invitation.”

     “What do you mean invitation?” she asked, swallowing hard, but still was intrigued with where things were going.

     “The locked door is symbolic of our relationship right now. It’s a barrier that separates us in both a figurative and real sense.” As he watched her, it seemed that his eyes probed to the deepest parts of her soul. “Intentionally, the door always stays locked. But, when you’re ready for me to come to you, you are the one who holds the key. Only you can unlock it.”

     As she returned his deep stare, a thrill chased through her, one that she couldn’t suppress. “What do you mean I have the key to unlocking it?”

     “During our six week trial relationship, at exactly 12:00 midnight, I’ll test the door, and see if you’ve granted me entry. If I find it locked, I’ll know that you’re not ready for our relationship to advance to the physical level. But, if the door opens, I know otherwise.” His eyes gleamed with a challenge. “If you leave the door unlocked, I will take it as an invitation that you want more. Tell me now. Are you in agreement with that or not?”

     “When you say more, what do you mean?” she asked, and her words were barely audible.

     “A kiss, a caress, silent whispers....whatever you ask of me,” he rasped unsteadily, stealing her gaze. “If you want me to play with you, I’ll play with you. If you want to make love, we’ll make love. The choice is yours.”

     “Play with me?” she whispered, inhaling a sharp breath, and again, couldn’t tamper her fascination. “What does that mean? It’s as if you’re speaking in riddles.”

     “Play can entail a lot of things,” he said suavely, flashing a wicked grin. “But, I’ve never been a man to give away my sensual secrets. In this case, you’ll just have to take a wait and see approach.” A dangerous gleam shone in his eyes. “Our encounters, they can happen at any time, any place, and anywhere. Again, are you in agreement with this faction of our trial?”

    
Dear heavens
, she breathed inwardly, unable to chase away the forbidden thrills at his words.

    
Just what would she be getting into?

     “Y-yes,” she blushed, clearing her throat uncomfortably before looking away. “I have no issues with that at all.”

     “Good, it seems that we both understand things,” he muttered, standing again, and stared down at her. “As I said before, I don’t want you to make a rash decision about this. Regardless of what your choice is, I want you to be 100% certain about it.”

     Crossing the stall, he retrieved the pitchfork before resuming his work. At a loss of words, she stayed silent.

     For several long minutes, she just watched him work, absorbing both his movements and earlier words. At intermittent times, he’d make small conversation, but never broached the subject of his proposition again.

    In that regard, she was disappointed, but too afraid to voice her own reasoning.

     “What are your plans for today?” he asked, pausing, and blew a tired breath. “Do you have a full one planned?”

     “The first half of the day is strictly Meghan time,” she added, coming to a stand. “After that, I’d planned on reading for a bit, and nothing much besides that. Why?”

     “There’s something that I want to show you. It’s an area not too far out from the city, close to an hour drive,” he shrugged, returning the rag to his hip pocket. But, still, it seemed that he was being somewhat evasive. “I thought that maybe you’d like to get out for awhile. You’ve been cooped up here for weeks, and I’m sure that you were practically a prisoner when you were with Addison.”

     Her heart leapt against her quiet nod. “You’re right,” she agreed. “It’ll be nice to get out for awhile.” She frowned. “Please don’t tell me that there’ll be any bodyguards with us.”

     “It’ll just be me and you. How does 11:30 sound?”

     “It sounds great. Meghan and I should be finished with our activities by then,” she said, coloring again.

     “Alright,” he nodded. “We’ll meet in the foyer at 11:30 then.”

      Then, turning away from her, he began working again, and once more, she was at a loss of words.

     “I guess I’ll be going then,” she murmured, staring at his back, and then scurried across the stall.

     But, he only gave a noncommittal nod, and didn’t even look at her as she left. A quick moment later, the morning sunshine greeted her as she stepped outside the stables.

    Within moments, she fell back on the path again, and her thoughts finally began to clear. No longer could she hide from the inevitable truth, she mulled, spying the lush green gardens ahead.

    
She wanted him back
.

***

    As they proposed, they met promptly at 11:30, and without a word, he escorted her to the garage. As they passed the shiny black sports car and the other ten or so vehicles that occupied the large space, she tried not to gawk. A few minutes later, they were ensconced in the dark red Lamborghini and driving along the paved road.

     Now, he held the look of a sexy billionaire playboy and no longer resembled the roguish stable hand from earlier, she noted, sliding a quick glance over his smart, crisp white business shirt and tie and black dress pants. His hair was perfectly gelled and sculpted, and his musky cologne only finished his manly palette.

     Sexy, billionaire playboy…roguish stable hand…both looks were equally impressive, she mulled with a deep blush.

     Luckily, too, she was presentable, having changed into an elegant powder blue halter-style jumpsuit. She’d even taken care to spritz on a subtle, floral fragrance, and her dark tresses were upswept in a tight bun.

     For some odd reason, the tension from earlier seemed to have dissipated, she thought, relieved, relaxing altogether.

     “Widow’s Pointe is really lovely,” she murmured, admiring the scenery while peering out the passenger’s side window. “I’m sure that many would be envious.”

     “They were,” he admitted, taking his eyes from the road briefly. “Nearly half the city of Atlanta was there when it was auctioned off. I paid a hefty price to have the highest bid. But, it was worth every penny.”

     She stared at him long and hard. “You really are very wealthy, aren’t you?”

     “Does that bother you?”

     “I could care less how much money you have. I’m not materialistic in the smallest sense. Money can make you comfortable, but it can’t buy the things that people crave most,” she stated honestly. “But, you---you don’t flaunt your wealth like most. At the estate, you’re always helping out with things. If it’s shoveling hay, fixing a broken fence, you’re doing it.”

     “A day of hard labor never hurt anyone. As a matter of fact, it builds character, and you don’t take anything for granted,” he muttered. “Besides that, my father always expected more of me. He believed in the value of hard work. He always said that it showed the measure of a true man.”

     “Your family,” she probed, staring at the side of his face. “You’ve never really mentioned them before. When you did, it was just briefly.”

     “My great-grandparents migrated from Italy years ago, and naturally, the immigration system isn’t as restrictive as it is today. If it were, who really knows how things would’ve turned out,” he said, easily maneuvering the vehicle down the lane. “My great-grandfather worked the shipyards, and he was damned good at it. So, much so, that his labor didn’t go unnoticed by the higher-ups. He moved up the ranks quickly, and before long, he’d learned the ins and outs of the export/import business.”

     “What about your great-grandmother?”

     “I hear that she was a pretty feisty lady who had a tongue sharper than any whip. Not only that, she was extremely intelligent. But, back then, the world didn’t know how to appreciate a woman’s worth,” he acknowledged, finally reaching a break in the road. Peering both left and right, he entered the busy intersection. “Her work consisted of housekeeping and mill work.”

     “But, they didn’t allow their circumstances to deter them,” he went on. “Brandon Peters---he was the manager of the shipping company, and he’d taken a liking to my great-grandfather. He thought of him as a son, especially since he had no kin. After learning of his terminal illness, Peters willed everything to my great-grandfather. Since then, for generations, the company has been passed down. It’s done so well that it has expanded to different areas internationally. We’ve worked hard to build a strong and reputable reputation.”

     “Sounds like a fairytale story of rags to riches,” she murmured, fascinated nonetheless. “I’m happy that things turned out the way that they did.”

     He shrugged. “In a sense, I suppose that it was. Coming to a foreign world, learning a different language, and conforming to a new way of life had to have been a challenge---one that they obviously rose to.” He paused in thought. “They said that my great-grandfather was a hard man, though, and he pushed my grandfather to the limit. Of course, those very traits were passed down to my own father.”

     Her voice softened. “Your father was hard on you?”

     “He should’ve been,” he said, giving a short laugh. “I was youngest in a brood of seven, and I caused more mayhem and mischief than all of my siblings put together.”

     “You were a rebel, then?” she smiled, turning in the seat, and admired the morning sunlight as it played against his face. “And I do find that easy to believe.”

     “I was hell on wheels,” Jarrod grinned. “If I wasn’t in trouble or causing it, I looked for it. I don’t know. I always felt like I had a statement to make or something.” He shrugged. “Over the years, that hasn’t really changed.”

     “Your father, what does he look like?”

     “I’m a spitting image of him. Same dark and handsome good looks,” he teased, giving her a fast wink. “Great looks definitely run in the family.”

     She laughed. “You are incorrigible,” she said, looking at him thoughtfully. “And your mother?”

     “She’s a beautiful spirit, inside and out,” he admitted. “Any goodness in me, she fostered it. If there was anyone that I hated disappointing, it was her, and that’s true even today.”

    “You say that you’re the youngest in a brood of seven. How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

    “Six brothers---no sisters. Each of us, we have our own particular nuisances and dispositions.” He gave a crooked grin. “Let’s just say that things were never boring around the house.”

     “I’d love to see pictures of them all,” she said shyly. “That is if you don’t mind.”

     “Later, when we get home, I’ll show you the family album,” he muttered, giving her a brief glance. “But, when you come across my nerdy pictures from yesteryear, you better not laugh.”

     She giggled. “That’s one promise that I may not be able to live up to.”

     The remainder of their journey went that way, continuing with light conversation and camaraderie. Forty-five minutes later, they were cruising off the exit ramp onto 26
th
West.

     “Wow,” she breathed, eyeing the tall, well-constructed structures that lined the streets. And the streets, they were busy with activity as pedestrians scurried about their way. “Atlanta really is a beautiful city.”

     “This is west side Atlanta,” he stated, slowing at the pedestrian crosswalk, and then resumed the drive as the light changed to green. “You used to spend a considerable amount of time here.”

     “Me?” she said, surprised.

     “Yes,” he murmured, sparing her a glance, and his expression was serious. “Today, I’m giving you a piece of your old life back.”

     At his words, she went silent, and suddenly the light mood that enveloped her, disappeared. A suffocating feeling swamped her, for once more, she was venturing into the unknown.

Chapter 10

     Promptly, at 12:35, the Lamborghini cruised to a stop at the curb on 26
th
and Main. With curiosity, she looked out the passenger’s side window and noticed the quaint, intimately styled building sitting amidst the more modern structures.

    A strange feeling swirled through her, and somehow, she felt an instant connection. But, to what, she wasn’t sure.

     The closed sign dangled on the door, and the windows were completely boarded up. The front entrance contained chains and a huge pad lock, restraints that’d definitely deny entrance.

     Just above the door, a sign with fancy calligraphy read,
Believe.

     “What is this place?” she asked, looking at him confusedly. “I feel like I should know what it is.”

     He looked at her squarely. “It’s your studio gallery.”

     “M-my studio gallery?” she repeated, and a faint feeling swept over her. “Why did you bring me here?”

     “You deserve to know the truth about yourself,” he said simply. “With all hope, you can put the pieces of your forgotten life back together.” He paused. “Look, if it’s too much for you, you don’t have to go in---”

     Her tear-filled eyes met his. “I want to go in,” she interrupted, swallowing hard. “But, I’m scared. Will you go with me?”

     “Of course, I will,” he said roughly, and all kinds of emotions played on his face. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. Wait there. I’ll come around and open your door.”

     She nodded. “Okay.”

     The Lamborghini operated on cue as he pressed the control to open its doors. After climbing out, he moved to her side to assist her. But, as she stepped out, the same fear and trepidation overcame her.

     “Jarrod, I can’t do this,” she whispered, grasping the front of his shirt, and stared up at him. “What happens if I can’t remember anything? I’m so afraid---”

     “Baby, look at me,” he murmured softly, grasping her chin, and forced her eyes to his. “You are not alone. Whatever’s in there, we’ll face it together. We’ll be scared together. Alright?” After pressing a gentle kiss against her forehead, he grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

    While he led the way, she kept a death-like grip on his hand. They reached the door, and as they did, he released her. In silence, she watched as he disengaged both the chain and the pad lock. With bated breath, she listened as the door clicked open.

     The darkness in the gallery seemed to beckon her, she realized, peeking past him. Again, a multitude of strange emotions swirled within her.

     “You ready?” he asked, cupping her chin. “Only do it if you are. Whatever decision you make, I’ll back you, okay?”

     “I’m ready,” she nodded, sniffling back fresh tears. “There’s never a right time to face difficult situations. You just have to meet them head on and pray that you survive the impact.”

     “Go in whenever you’re ready,” he encouraged, placing his hands on her shoulders as she hovered at the threshold.

     She held her breath as she entered.

     Still, she couldn’t speak.

     “The place is a little dusty,” Jarrod replied, flicking the light switch, and soon light flooded the space. “It’s been a while since it’s been in use.”

     Trailing a few steps away from him, she looked around with interest and curiosity. Under her low heels, the hardwood floor glistened with a high sheen. The studio gallery housed a second level, apparently, she mulled, noticing the stairwell that led to the upper floor. All around, the walls were covered in red brick while fashionable light fixtures hang from the ceiling in perfect synchronized rows. At various points and corners in the room, futons and stylish chairs rested, ranging in shades from black, red, and white. Staggered at different angles, the white display cases alternated between flat shapes or large rectangular boxes, and paintings covered each one.

     Stills, abstracts, portraits….

     It seemed that she had a penchant for many forms of art. She meandered to the nearest display case. And this one in particular, she mulled, tracing a finger along the bumps and ridges of paint on the portrait, it was truly one of a kind. So much longing and intimacy was evident in the abstract piece.

     “I’m surprised that I have this much talent,” she said, voicing her thoughts out loud. “The work is simply exquisite.”

     “You were well on making a name for yourself. But, of course, trouble intervened, and success was prolonged. I’m sad to admit my own part in it,” he muttered, and guilt played in his voice. “If I could have a do-over---”

     She turned around to face him. “There’s no point in rehashing the past. What’s done is done,” she said firmly, staring up at him. “We can’t change things. Moving forward is the only thing that we can do. Besides,” she sighed. “I don’t want to mar this moment by talking about our problems. We’ll only end up fighting about it, and I don’t want to do that today.”

     “And I don’t want to fight with you,” he agreed with a brisk nod. “So, I’ll just drop the subject altogether.”

     She trailed across the room, and this time, he stayed behind, giving her space and opportunity to explore alone. As she moved from one display case to another, her excitement built, and her exuberance was unmatched as she took the stairs.

     The second level, apparently, was an open living area, containing a small kitchenette and bedding area, and even it held an artistic flair. Partially, along the walls, the white bookshelves were carefully built in, showcasing books and fine, crystalline pieces. A modernly designed full-sized bed was the center-piece, and the multi-colored pillows were propped against the ivory-shaded headboard.

     As a matter of fact, ivory was the shade of the day, she noted, sweeping a gaze at the remaining furniture. It definitely exuded a brightness and cleanliness about the room.

     Several moments later, she returned to the lower level. Across the room, Jarrod sat on one of the futons while leafing through what looked like some artistry magazine. Upon seeing her, he stood.

     “Well, what you think of the place?” he asked, stopping before her. “Is it what you were expecting?”

     “This place is astonishing, and while I feel some connection to it, I don’t remember anything,” she murmured against the disappointment. “I don’t think that I ever will.”
     “Dr. Roma said to give things time---”

     “But, what if I don’t want to?” she interrupted, inhaling a deep breath. “What if I’m tired of waiting? I don’t want my entire life to be at a standstill. I just want to live it.”

     “I won’t even stand here and say that I know how you feel or what you’re going through. But, the not knowing has to be hell. Listen,” he said, clasping her shoulders. “There are professionals here that can help you. I’ve already spoken to Dr. Roma, and he’s referred several well-renowned psychologists---”

     “Wait, you consulted Dr. Roma without even discussing it with me first?” she gasped, stepping back. “What gives you the right to control my life like that?”

     “I thought that we weren’t going to fight---”

     “How can we not, especially when you’re always trying to control things?” she snapped, narrowing her gaze. “For once, can’t I make the decisions of what happens with my life? Stay out of it! It’s no longer your concern.”

     “Olivia, I’m not trying to control your life, I was trying to be helpful,” he said with a hint of anger, and the released a frustrated breath. “Fuck, I can’t do anything right with you, can I?”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?” she huffed.

     “That chip on your shoulder is so wide, you’re lucky that you haven’t fallen over----”

     “Chip on my shoulder?” she scoffed, folding her arms, and eyed him haughtily. “That’s rich.”

     “No, what’s rich is the fact that you’re scrutinizing everything that I say or do,” he snapped in turn, raking a hand through his hair. “There’s no winning with you, is there? I try to get close to you, and you don’t like that. I give you space, you’re not satisfied with that either. Look, I called Dr. Roma because I genuinely want to help you. I want you to remember your past and reclaim your life. I’m not trying to play mind games with you or put you up under some kind of mind control.” His eyes blazed with fire. “But, if that’s what you want to believe, I can’t stop you.”

     “I think that my misgivings are well justified.
You
are the one who caused this rift between us,” she fired back, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Your words and actions have made me doubt you.”

     “I thought you didn’t want to talk about that,” he quipped tightly. “Earlier, you said that there was no point in rehashing the past.”

     “Well, maybe I was wrong!” she shouted, feeling the hurt bubble inside her again, and the fresh tears pooled in her eyes. “Maybe I need a vivid reminder of what you’ve done, and then hopefully, I can stop loving and needing you so much!”

     “So, that’s it, huh?” he muttered, and the hurt played across his face. “You just want to wipe away any trace of me in your life?”

     Sobbing, she sucked in a hard breath. “I don’t know what I want---”

     “No, you don’t do you?” he accused, looking at her woundingly. “You’re hot one minute, but then cold the next. For three weeks, I kept my distance, gave you the space that you wanted and needed. But, that wasn’t good enough, was it?” Stepping back, he gave her a dangerous smile. “You couldn’t stand the fact that I wasn’t close to you, that I hadn’t come you---”

     “Stop it!” she blazed, breathing fast. “I want you to stop twisting things to your advantage----”

     But, still, he wasn’t deterred.

     “My advantage?” Jarrod scoffed, giving an abrupt laugh. “I think not, sweetheart. I think it’s to your advantage that you’re playing games with yourself.” He sized her up with a hot look. “You are the one who came to me, seeking me out.”

     “What do you mean?” she asked, seizing a short breath. “How did I seek you out?”

     “Oh, sweetheart, it’s too late to play coy now. This morning, weren’t you totally channeling shades of Jezebel? Daybreak had barely passed before you hauled your ass down to the stables to find me, dressed sexily in your little tank top and daisy dukes. You knew the sight of you would blow my libido sky high. It was my attention that you wanted, and you had it dab smack.” His stare was long and deep. “I was so fucking hard that I could barely tolerate it, and it took everything in me not to jack off with you standing there. And you know what? I still played along with you because I knew your agenda. You wanted me to want you. I did, and I do. But, still, you can’t face the truth about yourself or what you want, can you?” he taunted, taking a step closer. “Much like you played the game then, you’re playing it now.”

     “I’m not the one playing games, you are!” she fought back, breathing fast. “How dare you insinuate that I---”

      “I’m not insinuating anything, I’m just stating the facts,” he said sharply. “And this fucking indecisive act that you’ve got going, Olivia, it isn’t working for either you or me. I swear with you, it’s like flipping a damn switch. One minute, you’re saying, ‘stay away from me’, and then, it’s, ‘oh, Jarrod, why are you treating me this way’---”

     Before she could control, the distraught sound left her. “How can you be so cruel?” she whispered.

     “Cruel? Is that what I’m being?” he challenged, stealing her wounded gaze, and in his eyes, she saw hints of his own inner despair. “Well, killing you with kindness sure in the hell isn’t working.”

     “Damn you!” she shouted, barreling into him at once. Distraught, breathing hard, she shoved him against the chest, and the tears blinded her as she pushed him again. “You ruined everything! Why did you have to lie to me?”

     Her words broke his bough, penetrated his hard armor. “Tell me what you want me to do,” he muttered, nearly choking on his words. Though, he tried, he couldn’t hide his devastation. “Baby, I’m sorry---”

     “What if your sorry isn’t good enough?” she raged, releasing a pent-up cry, and shoved him again. “I wish that I could hate you, and then maybe I could bear the pain.
But, I can’t hate you
.” Her wounded gaze clung to his. “You have this hold on me, and I can’t break it even if I desperately want to.”

     Finally, replete, sobbing, she fell into him and didn’t fight against his hold; and there seemed no end to her flood of tears.

     “Forgive me,” he mumbled against her head. “I’ve never been good at reigning in my temper. I shouldn’t have said the things that I did. Here lately, I can’t seem to say or do anything right.”

     “I hate the way things are,” she mumbled against his chest, wetting his neatly pressed shirt with fresh tears. “This tension between us is nearly unbearable.”

     “But, can’t we find a way to fix that?” Pulling back slightly, he stared down at her, and again, she sensed his struggle. “I say to hell with pride and doing the right thing, Olivia. Nothing will ever change the fact that I want to be with you,” he rasped unsteadily. “I know that I’ve lost the right to, but, I’m asking for a second chance. I want to make things right. Tell me what you want. Tell me the words that I need to say.”