The Darkest Danger (Shattered Series Book 2) (24 page)

     “Look at me,” he demanded hoarsely, giving her one single thrust.

     Her body jerked against his as the pleasure racked through her. “Jarrod…”

     He hauled in a fractured breath. “I said, look at me.”

     Breathing fast, biting her lip, she forced her eyes open.

     “I want you to ride with me,” he rasped hoarsely, thrusting inside her deep once more. “Say that you’ll ride with me.”

     “I will,” she gasped helplessly, drowning further in his green gaze. “
I will
…”

     At her breathless promise, he plunged into her deep, and finally, they became lost in their game of forbidden ecstasy. He gripped her hips hard, driving into her deep, and their pleas and cries filled the space. An intense moment later, their earth shattering bliss arrived in crashing waves.

     Crying out, releasing their longing, they embraced their forbidden destiny.

Chapter 13

     Four weeks passed, and their torrid affair raged out of control. Hour upon hour, it seemed that they obsessed about being with each other, and any stolen moments that they could take, they did.

     Each night, they made love, sometimes in his room, sometimes in hers. They’d even had clandestine sex trysts in the study and elsewhere at the house when Rosa and Meghan were abed. On the days that she’d frequented his office, they never made it to lunch, but instead had sexed one another up on his desk, against the walls, or on the floor.

     More than once, it’d been obvious that his receptionist had heard their moans and shattered cries, she blushed, for it’d been written all over the woman’s perfectly made-up face.

     This was one of the first reprieves that they’d had from one another in days. As a matter of fact, the past two days, he’d been somewhat distant, she sighed in disappointment. Something heavy was weighing on his mind. But, perhaps, she was reading too much into things, though.

     She pulled the easel further under the shade tree. Though heat was what she sought to dry the painting quickly, standing in the blistering sun was hardly an option.

    
Dear God, I love him so much
, she smiled, peering past the leaves and limbs to the sky before dipping the brush into the red paint. With fast strokes, she worked the soft bristles against the small canvas and put on the final touches.

     She stepped back with a smile. “Perfect.”

     On the painting, an overly eager Meghan smiled as she rode Spotty-face unassisted. It’d been a smile that lit up the entire world, she mulled, tearing up.

     Still, it was overwhelming of how much she loved her. She was like a daughter to her in every sense.

     Propping the canvas on the easel, she looked around. As a matter of fact, it was the same spot where she and Meghan had held their serious talk weeks ago. But, they hadn’t come out this far in ages.

     Her eyes strayed further along the area.

     Of course, some distance away, the charred remains of a grand home waited within the shroud of thick trees, she mulled, unable to tamper the curiosity that’d seized her like before. Quickly making a decision, she began packing her things up.

     After making sure that her art supplies and things were intact and safely in place on the golf cart, she climbed in before driving in the direction of the charred house.

     Roughly five minutes or so later, she’d reached the fence with the no-trespassing sign. After killing the engine, she parked the golf cart before climbing out. 

     She paused.

     Getting past the barrier might cause just a teeny weenie bit of pain, she thought, surveying the fence. 

     But, there was only one way to serve her curiosity and that was to go in. With caution, she closed her fingers along the barbed-wire fence, making sure not to pinch it in the wrong place. She gave a breathless grunt as she passed under. As she stood upright, the barbed wire snagged her white cotton shorts and left a small cut on her thigh.

     “Ouch,” she said, rubbing the spot before sticking her hand out. Luckily, only a tiny smidge of blood covered her finger, and it didn’t appear to be life threatening. Scowling, she shook her head. “I’ll live.”

     The dry patches of dirt speckled the ground, and again, the area seemed like an abandoned old town in a western flick. As she neared, she caught sight of the charred columns, rafters, and beams that were strewn haphazardly along the space. Surprisingly, a burnt scent didn’t linger, she mulled, stopping at the part of the house that’d probably been a portico---which meant that the home had been destroyed years ago. All along the long platform, black soot was dusted in the most precarious spots, and pieces of it had crumbled in places.

     She reached what had apparently been the rear of the house. A large swimming pool was waterless and filled with pieces of lumber and other debris. The entire space had been completely decimated. Her steps carried her to what had probably been a play area, she mulled, noticing the badly burned frame of a swing set. Though chains hang from the frame, the plastic seats had burnt altogether as well as the attached slide.

     “Something tragic really happened here,” she said sadly, murmuring her thoughts aloud. “It’s so horrible.”

     Turning, she moved to retreat, but then caught sight of a broken trail not too far away. Even from her stance, she could see evidence of the two stone gray tombstones, and one of them was larger than the other.

     “Jarrod never mentioned that there were graves here,” she said, continuing her self-conversation. “I wonder why.”

     Frowning in confusion, she headed in that direction.

     The trail was narrow, but then finally spread out, revealing a wide open space. Large shadows played on the ground, yet sunlight sifted through the trees, giving the area an almost heavenly like appearance. Not only that, the area was clean and well tended for, she noted, walking from behind the stone gray tombstones to read the inscriptions.

     She read the name and date on the largest tombstone. “Caitlyn Sabatino,” she whispered, stunned, feeling the tears swell in her eyes. “Is it possible that this is Jarrod’s wife and she died in the tragic fire?”

     Her eyes fell on the smaller tombstone.

     Strangely, it was unmarked.

     Perhaps, it was Caitlyn’s most precious and adored pet that’d been buried, she reasoned, especially considering the size of the tombstone.

     “Rosa’s right---there are secrets here,” she murmured, sniffling back tears. “The fact that all of this is here only means one thing---Jarrod really hasn’t faced that you’re gone.” Her broken sobs left her. “I’m sorry, Caitlyn. I hate that you had to suffer so tragically.”

     For a moment, she just stood there, absorbing the truth.

     A few feet away, the wildflowers sprang with life.

     She walked over to them before kneeling down. After picking a handful of the wildflowers, she returned to the graves before strewing them on both tombstones.

     Saddened, despondent, she walked away.

***

     “Matt Addison has played right into our hands---the damned fool. He has invested over 70% of their assets in the two illegal corporations that we set up. Right now, we’re in the process of freezing the rest of their assets,” Agent Bietel pointed out, later that afternoon, pushing the papers across the conference table with the tip of the ink pen, and then, looked at him and Marc. “We were also able to get a viable lead on the prostitution ring and money laundering operation. The hotspot appears to be 24-7 Clean World, a coin laundry business on 24
th
and Baylor. We have solid, irrefutable proof in a string of tell-all transactions and video surveillance.” A triumphant gleam shone in the agent’s eyes. “After all this time, we finally have those bastards right where we want them. We should have a warrant for both of their arrests soon.”

     “And Caitlyn’s death---Colin’s?” Jarrod muttered bitterly, shoving the papers aside. “What restitution are the Addison’s going to receive for the true crime that they committed against my wife and son? Damn it, they killed them in cold blood. They can’t get away with that!”

     “Jarrod, calm down,” Marc warned, sitting on his right side, and stayed him with a firm hand. “This isn’t going to make the situation any better---”

     “Marc, stay the hell out of this,” he snapped, still glaring at the FBI agent across the table. “I want this son-of-a-bitch to give me a reasonable explanation as to why they’re not pinning a murder charge on them as well.”

     “I deeply regret what happened to your wife and son, and I have no doubts whatsoever that the Addison’s murdered them,” Agent Bietel said with pity. “If it were up to me, they’d be meeting their maker right now. But, you know how the justice system works. A man can’t be condemned on simply words, assumptions, and accusations. There has to be solid proof to try and convict them, and it’s something that we’ve never had, unfortunately. Any evidence that there was, it was probably destroyed in the fire.”

     “So, in other words, they win---they get away with murder,” he said dully, feeling the same dull ache that’d plagued him for years. “Where’s the justice in that?”

     “Over the years, I’ve asked myself that same question,” Agent Bietel acknowledged with a sigh, and stood. “Too often, the guilty go unpunished. I know that it doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry for your loss. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to headquarters. If anything else crops up, I’ll call you.”

     Sullen, angered, he stayed silent.

     “Thank you,” Marc said, standing to shake the man’s hand. “Let us know of any developments.”

     By the time Marc had escorted the man out, he was staring out the window.

     “Bro, are you alright?” Marc asked, joining his side. “I realize that you’re upset, but attacking the FBI isn’t going to change things. You went after Bietel pretty hard, and you’re pretty damned lucky that you’re not facing charges yourself.”

     “I don’t give a damn about me. If they want to haul my ass to jail, so be it,” he quipped tightly, feeling a dead coldness seep through his heart, and hard tears burned his eyes. “Do you want to know what an injustice is---the fact that my son won’t even be here to celebrate his 10
th
birthday tomorrow. No birthday cake, party, or presents. Instead, the only thing that I have left of him is a slab of rock.” Again, the guilt overwhelmed him. “And Caitlyn---she was a good woman, and we were happy together. I let her down and my son. The fact that all this business with Addison is coming to a head with Colin’s birthday being so close makes it hard to deal with.”

     Marc laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Tomorrow’s going to be a difficult day for all of us.” He paused. “There will be a small memorial gathering for Caitlyn and Colin at the church at 5:00 tomorrow. It’ll just be a few close friends that knew them well. If you want to come---”

     “No,” he said sharply, walking back to the table, and began stacking the papers in a neat pile. But, too bad his own life wasn’t in such perfect order, he mulled painfully, and then forced himself to look at Marc. “I’ll be busy. There are things that I have to take care of.”

     “I know that this is difficult for you. But, Jarrod, you can’t keep hiding from the truth that they’re gone. You need some kind of closure, so that you can heal. All these years that I’ve held these gatherings, you’ve never attended,” Marc sighed with regret. “I know it hurts. Hell, I hurt, and it pains me deeply that my sister and nephew are dead and gone. But, this ceremony is a way for us to celebrate the joy that they did bring to our lives, however short and tragic it was. This will also give Meghan an opportunity to learn more them. She was fairly young when they died. Don’t deny your daughter that right.” Leaving the outside view behind, he crossed the room before stopping alongside him. “If you change your mind---”

     “I won’t,” he said deadpan. “Don’t ask me again. If you’re finished with your so-called psychological analysis of my behavior, you can leave.”

     “Someday in this lifetime, I hope that you’ll learn to forgive yourself. Well, unfortunately, I have other business to attend to, so I’ll be incognito the remainder of the day. Give Meghan my love. I’ll get back with you later.”

    
Someday in this lifetime, I hope that you’ll learn to forgive yourself…

     Minutes later, sitting alone in his office, he mulled over Marc’s words.

     Forgive himself?

     In a thousand lifetimes, he’d never do that.

***

     “Livvy, can we finish our tea party later? I’m tired and sleepy,” Meghan yawned, stretching her little arms high in the air, and nearly fell out of the small chair at the play table. She rubbed her eyes with closed fists. “I can’t make my eyes stay open. Can I please take a nap?”

     “Ok, nap time it is. We’ll finish our party later,” she said, leading her from the play table to the bed. After she’d climbed in, she tucked the covers around her before kissing her forehead. “Sweet daydreams.”

     “You love Daddy again, don’t you?” Meghan said innocently. “I can tell.”

     “Oh, really?” she probed, plopping down on the canopy bed beside her. “And how can you tell?”

     “Well, for one, I heard you and Daddy playing in your room the other day,” Meghan murmured, eyes rounded with wonder. “You must have been having a lot of fun because you were screaming, and you kept calling Daddy’s name over and over. You acted like you was out of breath, and he was making funny noises. He was grunting and all that stuff. Y’all must’ve been exercising or something. Was that it?”

     Had they been that noisy during their lovemaking? Well, it certainly wasn’t surprising, she thought quietly.

     “Yes, that was probably it,” she insisted, blushing, and then sobered. “And I’m going to tell you the same thing that I’ve said before. I never stopped loving your Daddy. I’ve always loved him and I always will.”