Wynter's Horizon (16 page)

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, and I thought the butterflies in my stomach might fly up my throat.

As we drove out of campus, I glanced at him and caught him staring at my legs again. I smiled and he returned it, shaking his head slightly. “It’s a good nickname, you know. They are bloody outstanding.” I nodded my head in embarrassment, the blood rushing to my cheeks.

Chapter Thirty-One

Beck—Dinner

I made reservations at an inn near the school. The food was supposed to be excellent, the atmosphere even better. It overlooked the water so I figured, if all else failed, we’d at least have a nice view. It had been a while since I’d dated, not that I’d ever had much time for it, or interest after Lilly. Our training had left little room for romantic attachments and rules about dating “normals” even less.

Despite my nervousness, which I tried to hide by consuming plenty of wine, dinner went well. We discussed books, the classes she was taking, and her plans to go to graduate school in psychology. I told her about my job, leaving out the details of my actual fieldwork and implying I was more of a consultant. Trying to prolong the conversation and work in the accident, I ordered a chocolate mousse for dessert. Her eyes lit up as the waiter placed it on the table. I watched her roll her tongue around the spoon, licking the chocolate off, and all thoughts rushed southward. She offered me some, holding out the spoon like we were in a chick flick, and for a brief moment I felt what it would be like to be normal. Just an everyday guy out on a date.

I never found
my opening for our ‘beach meeting’ conversation and before I knew it, we were headed back to campus. It was pointless to even try during the drive back—her legs still peeked from beneath her coat, emphasizing the short length of her skirt and making it impossible to think of anything else. Her scent, mingled with the chocolate, was overwhelming. I pulled up in front of her dorm, letting the Jeep idle, as I debated what to say.

“Do you want to come in?” It was all the excuse I needed to turn the car off and walk her up to her room.

She slid her jacket off as we entered, dropping it on the floor and then, turning into me, she kissed me. Her lips were hot with the blood rushing through them, and her breath smelled of cinnamon. She pressed her body into mine, and even if I hadn’t been able to hear her heart beat, I could feel it radiating through her chest. Her warm hand moved over my back, pulling at my shirt and sliding up under. My stomach churned with the thought of feeling her skin. I kissed her back, exploring her mouth, and her fingernails scraped along my back in answer. Sweeping her hair from her face, the silky strands running through my fingers fueled my desire. Every inch of her had a different texture. I wanted to feel it all. One hand on my head, fisted there, she pulled me deeper into the kiss. I obeyed for a moment before running my lips down her jaw line, descending toward her collarbone, my fingers traveling up her leg at the same time, sliding across her soft skin until my fingers reached the top, where lace and skin collided. I brushed along her inner thigh, and she shifted ever so slightly against me, a soft moan escaping her lips. If I had any rational thought, it was gone
. More, I needed more.
I pushed her against the wall.

It took a second to register. Her breathing, heavy before, was now choppy and strained, like a frightened animal. I lifted my head and looked into her eyes. The flicker of fear was unmistakable, even as she tried to cover it up. I dropped my hand from where I had planted it next to her head, and saw the crack in the plaster. My stomach dropped. I was lucky I hadn’t given her a concussion. Too strong. Too much. Hadn’t I come up here to talk? What the hell did I just do?

“I should go,” I said, moving quickly away from the wall.

She dropped her eyes, looking away from me. “Don’t. I…”

“Wynter,” I cut her off. My voice sounded gruff even to me, but I didn’t know how to soften it. Anger and frustration rolled through me. I was supposed to be here discussing after-life experiences, not raping her. “Don’t worry about it. It’s all right. I just think I should go.” I had to get out. She didn’t stop me from leaving. Not that she could have. I turned in the doorway, looking back at her. She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, her hair wild and messy from where I had run my hands through it, her clothes disheveled. I wanted to say something, anything, but I was at a loss. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She smiled at me, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay.”

I paused in the stairwell, waiting to hear her lock the door, then hurried outside. I realized on my way home I had done exactly what he had done in the bar—trapping her, giving her no way out and no control. Of all the ways this night could have ended, this was not what I wanted. It didn’t matter that I had met her before in another place. I was still a freak, and she was just a college girl. She deserved a normal everyday guy who could take her to dinner and the movies and not almost crush her with his bare hands. I had no clue what she needed. I pulled into the driveway and sat for a moment in the Jeep, thinking about the way she had looked at the beginning of the night.

I found Quinn sitting in his usual spot on the porch. He turned when he heard me. “How was it?”

“Fucking disaster. I scared her, cracked the bloody plaster on the wall and almost crushed her, and I also over…” I stopped mid-sentence. Quinn sat, empty handed, no beer, no scotch, and his face appeared tired, worn—and very worried.

“What happened?” I asked, thinking the worst. “Not Sara…”

He leaned forward, running his hands through his hair and smiling wryly. “No, but Sara called. They found Audra. Dead. Bled to death in her own bathtub. Wrists cut.” He paused. “They’re calling it suicide. Like Michael.”

The strength drained from my legs, and I sank into the chair nearby. “What do you think?” I croaked.

“I think … it’s all very suspicious. Maybe it’s time to go home. And … talk to a few key people.”

I sat for a moment contemplating what that would mean. This was more than just visiting London. “Did you book a flight?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll call and see what I can get.” I paused on my way inside. “You worried about Sara?”

“I’m worried about all of us.” He said it vehemently, and I knew exactly what he meant. Our abilities protected us and made us vulnerable at the same time. None of us were safe. I made the necessary phone calls and then rejoined him. We sat silently staring out on the water. I remembered my last conversation with Audra.

“Maybe they have each other again,” I offered. Quinn shrugged and half smiled. No one knew what waited on the other side. Of course, I had an idea, but it didn’t seem the right time to bring
that
up.

“Maybe.”

“They were good,” I added.

Now I could see him smile. “By our standards, Beck, that’s not saying much.”

“I know. I just hope for the best. I liked them. Remember that time in Venice?”

He smiled broadly and chuckled. Then, changing the subject, he asked, “What really happened?”

I shook my head, turning my attention back to the sea. The waves rolled and tumbled violently. I wondered if a storm was coming in. I couldn’t smell anything amiss, but the water certainly pounded the shore. “I don’t know.” It was my turn to drag my hands through my hair. “It went well at dinner. Then she asked me up and, well, I got out of hand. It’s not only my anger I have trouble controlling. What a bloody mess. What am I doing?” I got up, pacing up and down the deck. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’ll figure it out when I get back.”

“Suit yourself, but I would call and set it right or walk away and be done with it.”

I stopped and sighed. Neither scenario appealed to me. “Yeah.” I still wanted to talk about that damn accident, though how I’d bring that up now I had no idea.
Hey, sorry for the near rape. Do you remember heading to a beach when you were in a coma? I saw you there. Want to walk down memory lane with me?
Christ, I had really fucked things up.

We left for London the following evening.

I called Wynter before I left, letting her know I was going out of town and would be back in a few days. She sounded subdued on the phone. Something in her voice raised my suspicions that something else was going on, but I didn’t have time to figure it out. I tried to put her out of my mind and concentrate on the task at hand.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Wynter—Vertigo

Beck called the next day and made some lame excuse about going out of town. Classic. For someone older and not even American, he certainly knew how to avoid. I laughed, thinking how wrong Jason had been. Beck wasn’t a prude, just the opposite. I’d hesitated, not him. I was crushed. Beck was the first guy I truly felt attracted to since Jason. I’d thought he wanted more than just sex, but clearly I was wrong.

I went home that weekend for some family get together, which was just as well. I needed to get away. I got tired of staring around my room and replaying the whole thing in my mind, wishing for a different ending. I had wanted to fool around, maybe even sleep together, but the whole flying through the air and squished against the wall like a bug had scared me. This was the same guy who gave me a handkerchief. I kept hoping he’d call or show up, tell me it was all a big mistake, but it was useless. Dates that ended that way, never went anywhere else. As much as I said it didn’t matter, I wanted desperately to be right that he liked me, not just wanted me for sex.

But as days passed, Jason was the one who called and texted. More attentive than he’d been in months, he walked with me to history class, hanging with me at the snack bar and even playing scrabble over our phones, challenging me to more than one rematch when I won. I didn’t let on to Jason that Beck had disappeared. He asked and I avoided, giving him vague answers. Maybe I was using Beck to make Jason jealous and get better treatment but it wasn’t like Beck was around or that I was cheating on him. He was the one who’d left—and pretty fucking quick, too.

My phone rang as I crawled into bed. My stomach dropped in disappointment at the name.

“Hello?” Jason’s voice slithered into my ear. “Are you alone?” I thought about lying, but I was never good at bullshitting him.

“Yes,” I answered, yawning as if to emphasize the point.

“Where’s your English dude?”

“He had to go out of town.”

“You want to come over?” He was unbelievable, but maybe that was part of the attraction. I didn’t know anymore. Our relationship was so screwed, sometimes I felt like a diver with vertigo, lost in the water, unable to figure out up or down.

“I don’t think so,” I answered. Annie would have been proud.

“Come on. I can’t stop thinking about Abby.”

“No. It’s too cold out.” I waited for him to laugh or say something sarcastic.

“Okay, I understand.” I almost fell out of bed.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I just miss you is all.”

“Where’s your girlfriend?” I tried to ask innocently.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Seriously?”

“We just hang out sometimes. She’s doesn’t mean anything to me, not like Abby or you. I really miss you. Let me come over, just to talk. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

I knew that feeling. He sounded so sad. And lonely. I stared at the picture on my bookcase of Abby and I in lacrosse gear. In the darkened room, only the white of our sticks and smiles were visible, but I didn’t need the light to see it. It would be a year on Sunday.

“Wynter?”

“Alright.”

I hung up and got out of bed to make sure my hair looked all right. Maybe things could work out okay, even if it wasn’t with Beck.

Jason knocked softly. I opened the door and he brushed by and sat on the bed.

“What’s up?” I stood by my desk a few feet away. He reached for my hand, sliding his fingers through mine. He tugged gently, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Come here,” he whispered, staring up at me. His eyes looked the way I felt. I hesitantly moved closer. He wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned his head against my stomach. I let my hands wander through his hair, and he pressed his head closer. We stayed that way for a few moments, our breath the only sound in the room. He dropped one hand, trailing it lightly down my leg. Goosebumps erupted on my arms. Fucking Jason. I should have known.

“I miss you,” he mumbled. “I want you. I love your body. And you know you want this.” I wondered what Beck was doing and broke away, moving to stare out the window.
Where had he gone? They had email wherever he went, didn’t they? Maybe Jason was right. I was a guy’s dream for sex and nothing more.

“Come on,” Jason pleaded, coming up behind me. “Don’t shut me out. You know we’re good together.” Did good mean screwing? We were definitely good at that. He threaded his arms around my waist and kissed my neck. His hands traveled slowly up and under my t-shirt. “I need this.” He turned me around and lifted me onto the bed gently. I knew it was wrong, knew I wanted Beck. But did it really fucking matter? Beck hadn’t called now for over a week, and I’d been brushed off enough times to recognize it.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Lies

He hurried across the square between the buildings, squinting his eyes against the sun as it peeked from behind gray clouds. He was surprised it was even out. Running up the stairs to the brick building, he swung the first set of doors open and set off down the hall. He had gotten an urgent call just moments before. “Baxter, ASAP to my office.” He hated Ledford, this new defense minister. Of course, it was silly to still be calling him the “new” defense minister. It had been two years now, but he had a hard time with change. He missed his old boss.