Veiled Innocence (11 page)

“Your brother?” I asked.

I turned as she walked over to the gates. After she pushed them open, Addison looked back to where I was standing rooted to the same spot.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know,” she simply replied. “You may want to park your truck inside, so no one reports it.”

Great, now she’s telling me the smart thing to do.

I cursed myself as I got in the truck and followed her down the drive to a small, empty lot. I sat for a minute watching her where she stood bathed in my headlights once more. Dressed as she was in her pure white coat, she resembled an angel. An angel I’d been kissing only minutes earlier. An angel I was thinking of in the most impure way possible.

Cutting the lights and darkening my view, I got out and came around to where she was standing.

“Do your parents know where you are?”

The mischievous smile she aimed my way let me know she was onto me, and there was no way she was going to let me forget what’d just happened. Not when she finally had me where she wanted me.

“Do yours?”

“Addison.”

“Grayson,” she countered and held out her hand. “Come with me. I want you to know who I am.”

“I do know you, a little too well.”

Not in the least bit deterred, she wrapped her fingers around mine, and I followed her despite my reservations.

“I want you to know more of me. I want you to understand.”

I felt her touch like a live wire as it traveled up my arm, shocking me in its wake.

“Okay. But I’m driving you home after. You’re not walking alone at this hour.”

With her hand clasped in mine and my cock stiffening at being this close, I thought it completely hypocritical of me to be concerned about her safety—especially with what I was thinking.

“Are you worried something will happen to me?”

I nodded. “You shouldn’t be walking around this late. Anything could happen.”

“Anything?”

She didn’t let up for a second. Always pushing me and leading me down a road I know I shouldn’t be on.

“
Okay
,” she drawled. “You’re no fun.”

It was an odd comment to make while standing in a cemetery, but before I could remark on it, she tugged me off the path and onto the grass.

“This way.”

I had two choices—let go of her and demand she get back in the truck. Or follow her...
again
. Like the fool that I was, I followed.

She led me through several rows of tombstones with tall flowers sprouted alongside, almost as though the cemetery had been built in a field of—

“What are these flowers?” I asked, pulling on her to stop.

“Monkshood. Have you heard of them?”

I
had
heard of them. They were a cult classic but usually in herb form, not as a flower. “Yes, it’s Wolf’s Bane. You do know how poisonous these are, right?”

“Yes, I know. There are signs. See?” she replied, as if we were discussing the color of the sky.

“Don’t you think you should have mentioned that? This is serious shit, Addison. You shouldn’t be here, especially at night. Jesus. Come on, let’s go.”

She placed a hand on my chest and slid it up my shoulder and into my loose hair as she came up on her tiptoes. With her lips hovering over mine, she whispered, “They are also known as the
queen of poisons
. Did you know that?”

I didn’t, but being in a cemetery with poisonous fucking flowers wasn’t what I called a good time.

“Stop fucking around. This isn’t funny.”

“Are you planning to bend down and pick the flowers?” I could feel her lips curving into a grin against my own.

Considering the situation and what we were discussing, she sounded somewhat crazed. I found myself reaching for something to ground me. The fact that it was her waist was of no consequence as I gripped her tight.

“What kind of game are you playing?” I demanded, not realizing until then that was what I was feeling—
played
.

“No game,” she breathed out then licked my lip, causing me to yank my head back.

“The
fuck
you’re not.”

Her fingers massaged my head as she cocked hers to the side. “I told you.”

“Your brother?”

Nodding, she answered, “Yes…Daniel.”

“What happened to him?” I asked.

Without flinching, she replied, “I killed him.”

* * *

The hold Grayson had on my waist was so tight I would have a bruise for sure, and the way his mouth fell open at my admission made me wonder what was going through his mind.

I released his hair and touched his hand.

“Come,” I invited. “
Don’t
touch the flowers.”

He didn’t answer, but his fingers took mine, and I led him farther across the dewy grass. When we arrived at the far back corner, I stopped in front of the tombstone that had Daniel’s name inscribed on it.

Without looking at the man beside me, I explained, “Every Saturday I come here, hoping this is some kind of nightmare. One where I’ll walk through those gates, and this won’t be here. That all I’ll see is a field. A field that’s
full
of these poisonous flowers. It would be better than this alternative. Right?”

That was when I faced him.

Grayson was tall. I knew he was, but in that moment, I really took notice. His shoulders were broad and represented strength. To me, he was safe, and the entire time I was with him, I had not heard—I lifted my wrist and brought it to my ear.

“Why do you do that?” he asked gently.

Lowering my arm, happy that the watch was still working, I looked back to where Daniel lay buried beneath the earth.

“Because I was late.”

The silence that stretched between us was complicated for so many reasons, and even though I wanted to explain, I wasn’t sure I could. I’d never been able to before, not even to Doc, who my mom had been making me visit at least once a week for the past two years.

“What were you late for?” he asked, seeming to understand that since I couldn’t describe my obsession, it was best just to ask why I had it.

“
Who
, not what.” I felt a tear slip from my eye and trail down my face. “I was too late for him.”

* * *

Present…

“Tell me, Addison, what does this picture mean to you?”

I look at the photograph Doc is holding in front of me. It’s a picture of a beautiful purple flower. A flower shaped like a monk’s hood.

I remain silent.

“Nothing?”

My eyes shift to his.
The waiting game?
Oh, I can wait.

Tick, tick, tock.

He turns the picture around and examines it.

“It’s a photo of a Monkshood flower,” he says, but he knows I’m already aware of that. “It’s very pretty, don’t you think?”

Bait me. That’s what he’s trying to do. He
will
fail.

“I didn’t know they grew here in Denver, but they do.”

I arch my brow, and he knows me well enough that he continues.

“People often do stupid things when it comes to something pretty…even when they know better.” He pauses and sits forward, giving me the photograph. As my fingers touch it, he asks, “Did Grayson?”

For a split second, I wish I could tell him everything, but I have no answer. Not the one he wants. He wants me to ask for help, but even if I could, I wouldn’t.

I don’t need protecting.

Sitting back in my seat, I trace the shape of the flower with the tip of my finger and remind myself that
he
is gone, and nothing will change that. All I have to do is…forget I ever knew him.

Raising my head, I pin Doc with a vacant stare and answer his question.

“No.
Akoviton
.”

Doc’s eyes remain on me. “I don’t understand.”

“Without struggle.”

I can see his mind working as he asks, “Who? Grayson went without struggle?”

A sly smile stretches my lips. He thinks I’m giving him something. I’m giving him nothing.

“This flower,
Aconitum,
comes from the Greek word
akoviton
, which means…without struggle.”

He says nothing as he leans back in his chair. I can tell he is trying to decide if there is more to my statement than what’s on the surface.

Let him wonder. Let him think.

This session’s over as far as I’m concerned.

Tick, tick, tock.

* * *

Past…

“Come on, Addison. Let me take you home.”

I could tell she had gone somewhere in her head because she was no longer talking as she stood beside me. She was counting.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

Over and over she repeated the numbers, and the instinct to wrap her in my arms now came from concern. She was visibly upset, and I wasn’t sure if my touch would help to calm her or cause further distress.

“Addison?” I coaxed.

Her hair shifted softly in the breeze, and when those blue eyes of hers found me, I thought she appeared as perfect as the first time I’d met her.

The perfection, however, was marred. Not in a horrible disfigured way but on a deep subconscious level. She searched my face, for what I wasn’t sure, and continued to count—
one, two, three
—in a way that I would never stop hearing.

This girl was damaged. Why hadn’t I seen that?

She was broken, and some part of me wanted to fix her.

I took her hand, gently squeezing her fingers, and with that small touch, the counting stopped.

“Let’s go. You can tell me more on the way,” I said, walking us back in the direction we’d come.

She was silent the entire way.

Like someone lost, she let me lead her, and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what would’ve happened if she’d trusted the wrong person?

Or had she?

I unlocked the doors and shook off the thought. Before she climbed into the cab, into the small space I would soon lock myself into beside her, she said so softly I almost missed it, “You make it go away.”

Not understanding, I asked, “I make what go away?”

Dropping all pretense, she replied, “The chaos.”

* * *

I climbed into his truck and watched him walk around the front.

I wondered how he did it. How did he make it all stop?

He got into the seat beside me and pulled the door shut, sealing us inside.

“I’m sorry,” I offered, thinking I needed to say something to make him understand that I didn’t mean to be peculiar—I just was.

I was forever trying to hide this side of myself, never wanting to show I was anything other than okay, but with him it was different.

He didn’t know the story. He hadn’t been there that day.

Not like the rest of them.

Grayson started up the truck, but instead of leaving, he switched on the interior light. For the first time tonight, I felt like I was back in his classroom because the look he was giving me was expectant and concerned.

“Want to tell me what’s going on, Addison?”

I began to nibble on my thumbnail, and almost like it was habit, he swatted it away from my mouth. “Bad habit?”

I shrugged, feeling shy.

“A nervous one.”

He pulled away, and I knew he’d taken that wrong. I reached across the space between us and brought his hand back to me, placing it on my bare leg.

“
You
don’t make me nervous…” I trailed off, concentrating instead on how large his hand was where it rested on my thigh.

“I should.”

“Why?”

His fingers flexed, but before he could remove them, I placed mine on top.

“Because you’re older than me? Or because you’re my teacher?”

“God, Addison,” he groaned, sounding tortured. I squeezed my hand, pressing his fingers harder against my naked flesh. “
Both
of those reasons, and…”

Having forgotten all about my moment of weird, I licked my lips and dared to ask, “And?”

I watched as he shifted in his seat so he could face me.

“And because of all the things I’m thinking.”

I could feel my breathing coming faster. He pushed his hair behind his ear, and suddenly, I was burning up. It was hot, too hot.

Not ready to release my contact with him, I used my other hand to unbutton my coat. When I pulled it apart, I heard a strangled sound leave him.

As my pink dress came into view, I knew he could see the swell of my breasts rise with every breath I took. I curled my fingers around his and slowly urged them up my leg.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Addison—”

“
Tell
me.”

He switched off the interior light. As the cab plunged into darkness, he moved his palm farther up my thigh, and his voice found me.

“I’m thinking about what’s under your dress. I have been since I saw you tonight at Franco’s.”

I laid my head back on the headrest and demanded, “More.”

His hand skimmed the inside of my thigh, and his fingers pressed softly into my flesh, parting my legs.

“Even though I shouldn’t, I can’t stop thinking about how you would taste.”

I could feel myself throb as his words reminded me of our kiss. “
More
.”

His lips lightly grazed my jaw, and he teased me for the first time. “Greedy. I’ll tell you more if you tell me why you count.” 

“It calms me when I’m…anxious.”

His hand slipped even higher under my dress. “You’re not counting now…”

“No,” I sighed as his mouth moved closer to mine.

“Why?”

His warm breath touched my lips as the tips of his fingers finally brushed my damp panties.

“Because of
you
,” I moaned, closing my eyes. “Your voice calms me. When you speak, I feel safe. I have ever since I met you.”

“Open your eyes, Addison,” he instructed, and I felt my pussy moisten as I did as he asked. “Do you feel calm right now?”