Chapter 7: Patrick’s Proposal
Derek
Only a few times in my life have I felt completely helpless, and the top two occurred in the last twenty-four hours. Watching Mel fall apart last night was almost as bad as that fucking drive from Raleigh. Holding her now as she sleeps, I think about what happened.
As if dealing with Sloan isn’t enough, she’s completely undone over a necklace, a trinket that cost me less than two hundred dollars. You’d think it was made of pure platinum encrusted with diamonds.
If I remember correctly, she threatened to throw it in the ocean once when she was angry with me. Now it’s more valuable than what we thought was hidden in Al Capone’s empty vault, and I can’t console her.
At the same time, I adore her so much for it.
The fact that such a small thing, the only thing I could find that late night in Scottsdale to give her—the night when she’d first wanted to tell me she loved me but couldn’t. I’d wanted to tell her I loved her, too…
It had been pretty important that night to do something to mark the moment. Everything in me demanded I make her mine forever, but I knew what we had in the desert was tentative. We hoped for so much more, but we couldn’t have it then. I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again, yet she’d stolen my heart. That necklace was the only thing I could give her to make it real.
With a deep exhale, I accept what she’s feeling right now over losing it. It’s pretty heartbreaking, and as much as I mean it when I say it doesn’t matter, I know how sentimental that delicate piece of 24-karat gold is.
It’ll turn up. I reassure myself as much as her. And dammit, if it doesn’t, I’ll fucking buy her another one. Maybe the new one will be platinum encrusted with diamonds. I can even have it delivered with the original message.
She stirs, and I hold her closer. She’s upset, but asleep, she looks peaceful. I want her to feel calm and not worry.
Her blue eyes blink open, and her voice is a soft whisper. “Hi.”
The familiar squeeze of love hits me right in the stomach, and I never want it to ease, no matter how many years we pass sharing the same bed. No pacing ourselves, only love, as much and as often as we want it.
“Feeling better?” I smooth my palm over her forehead, back into her hair, but her soft lips press together.
“Not really.”
I roll forward and kiss that ivory forehead, right where my hand just was. “I’m sorry I have to leave with Patrick today, otherwise I’d stay here and tear the house apart until I found it.”
“It’s okay.” She pushes me onto my back, resting her cheek on my chest, hugging my torso. “I know this job is important, and I don’t mind searching by myself. It’ll probably be easier because I know where all I’ve been.”
My phone buzzes, and I glance at the clock. “I’ve got to get moving, or I’ll be late meeting Patrick.”
We both sit up, and she wraps the sheet under her arms as her eyes travel around the room, scanning all the baseboards. I know she’ll do it—the whole day, searching.
Cupping her jaw, I kiss her lips lightly. “Try not to worry. I’ll make it right. No matter what.”
Her eyes flicker to mine and she manages a little smile. “Be safe today.”
Melissa is on my mind the entire drive to Raleigh. I want to be there with her and make sure she’s not sad, or worse, crying again. Patrick’s ahead of me on the borrowed bike, and I follow him off the Interstate in the direction of the seedy bar.
Once we’re in the parking lot, he slows down and motions for me to find a spot while he manages the bike. I meet up with him heading into the Skinniflute, but he holds my arm before we enter.
“When we meet with Toni this time, hang back. Let me take the lead.” His brow is tense, and I notice his jaw flex. “She wasn’t too thrilled about working with you.”
Glancing away, I exhale a laugh. “That makes two of us. Sloan Reynolds is used to high-class action, not part-time hookers.”
My partner releases my arm and jerks the metal door open. “She cleans up well, and she owes me a favor. Just let me handle it.”
Following my abrupt departure yesterday, Patrick set up a meeting when she wasn’t on the clock. As a result, Toni Durango is sitting in the same wooden booth waiting when we enter the dive.
As directed, I hang back while Patrick strides over, smiling that cocky grin of his. “Thanks for meeting up with us today.”
A cup of coffee is in front of her, and she sits up, leaning forward over the table. “What I wouldn’t give for a cigarette.”
“You quit?” He slides in next to her, and I take my place across the table, hands on the bench at my sides.
“For the fiftieth time. I don’t expect it to stick.” She has the voice of a smoker, low and husky.
I try to picture her “cleaned up” as Patrick put it. Today, she’s wearing thick black eyeliner, fake lashes, and velvet red lipstick. Her black hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and I fully expect to find tattoo sleeves if the leopard-print cardigan she’s wearing over her black tank comes off.
Sloan will not go for this.
Her brown eyes meet mine. “Patrick said the reason you ran off yesterday was about this guy.”
Sliding a glance at my partner, he’s still wearing his lady-killer grin, but his eyes are telling me to take it easy. Like this is my first job.
“He’s an abusive asshole, and I suspect a murderer. My concern is he’s coming after my fiancée, who happens to be his ex-wife.”
This girl has either seen a lot of shit or she’s used to handling it, because her expression never falters.
Her lips press together then, and her eyes narrow. “They always come back. You think they’re gone, the law is on your side, but there’s no stopping those motherfuckers.” Her hands tighten around the mug in front of her. “The only good abuser is a dead abuser.”
“Sounds like you have experience with guys like this.”
“Not me.” She shakes her head and looks down. “My step-sister was shot by her ex before they finally put him away. Lylah’s aunt was almost beat to death… If there’s one kind of trouble I do avoid, it’s creeps like that.”
Patrick leans forward as if on cue. “He’s into sex for hire. Our plan was to set the guy up. Use you as sort-of… bait.”
“We’ll be there the whole time,” I add. “You wouldn’t be alone with him ever.”
She blinks down to the table. “What’s in it for me?”
As much as I’m sure we have nothing in common, I’m on her side this time. I wouldn’t ask any woman to play prostitute—even ones with experience, and I’m about to call the whole thing off when Patrick cuts in.
“Five thousand dollars, immunity… and knowing you helped get a killer off the streets.”
Poker face or not, I saw her eyes spark at the mention of money. We didn’t discuss it, but I’m slick with his proposal. I’d gladly pay any amount for the peace of mind Melissa and I will gain knowing this guy is dealt with.
She studies the coffee cup as she appears to be turning the prospect over in her mind. “Why can’t you get him yourself? Without me?”
I answer this one. “He’s not your average, run of the mill lowlife. He’s connected. He’s got money, power, and lawyers who can get him out of anything.”
“Escorts,” Patrick adds. “He uses escorts.”
Straightening her arms out in front of her, she examines her fingernails. “In that case, I’ll need some of that money up front. Mani-Pedi, hair, body makeup to cover the tats…”
“What tats?” Patrick’s brow creases, and she smiles like he’s so naïve.
We both watch as she removes her sweater, and just as I suspected. Sleeves.
“Well fuck me.” He laughs. “I had no idea.”
She laughs, too. “I did fuck you. It was pretty fucking hot.”
“Okay.” That’s the last thing I’m interested in hearing about. Their whole connection still pisses me off. “We can give you a thousand up front. Do the works. Hair, wardrobe—”
“I know my job.” Her eyes flash at me, and her voice is sharp.
I put a lid on it. Patrick’s right. She responds better to him.
“This guy prefers wavy, light brown hair.” He reaches inside the leather bike jacket he’s wearing and pulls out a folded sheet of paper. “Something like this.”
When he puts the sheet on the table, smoothing it open, you would’ve thought it was on fire. Toni jumps back then she stands quickly out of the booth, snatching up the page.
“What… Where did you get this?” She seems panicky now, and Patrick’s out of the booth just as fast.
“It’s the Baltimore police report. It’s who we think is his last victim. It’s what put Derek on the alert.”
“No.” She’s shaking her head, and I can see her eyes flying down the page as she reads. “No…”
The first indication she’s crying are the lines. It’s like an invisible hand draws two black stripes down each of her cheeks from the outer corners of her eyes to her chin.
She straightens up and spins on a mile-high heel, headed for the bar. “Lylah!”
The younger girl pops up at once. “What’s wrong?” She passes over napkins, waiting for a response.
“I need a cigarette.” One of the regulars, hunched over his lunch stretches out a soft pack of Reds, and Toni takes one. Her hands are trembling as she lights up and pulls in a deep drag.
Patrick and I exchange a glance before we follow her over to the bar, where she’s now dabbing her eyes with the small napkins.
“And a whiskey.”
Lylah is quick to set her up.
We’re all waiting for an explanation, but we don’t get it until after she’s shot the brown liquid and glanced at the paper once more. Her voice is husky. “He killed her?”
Carefully, I answer. “I’m almost certain he did.”
Patrick puts a hand on her shoulder. “Did you know Jessica Black?”
She pushes a bitter laugh through her lips and shakes her head no. “When I knew her, she was Tiffany Cedric. She was just a kid working in Myrtle Beach, thinking she could pick up some cash as an escort. An escort, as you say.” She takes another long drag and taps the shot glass. Lylah’s quick to hook her up. “She wanted me to show her the ropes. Thought she’d put herself through college and then walk away.”
She sips the second shot then slowly turns and carries it back to the booth where we started. Patrick and I follow.
Toni’s shoulders are hunched as she slides into the seat. This time Patrick is on the outside. “When’s the last time you talked to her?”
She sniffs and pours the remainder of the whiskey into the thick, white mug. “Don’t remember… more than a year ago. She was so proud she got in at State, a scholarship even. But it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t pay all her bills.”
Patrick’s brow is lined, and I know he’s trying as cautiously as possible to see if there’s anything here we can use. “Is that all you know?”
She circles the mug with a finger, holding her cigarette away from the table. “I got arrested in Myrtle Beach and moved back here. We lost touch, but one of the other girls kept up with her. Last I heard she’d met a daddy.”
I’m not certain I understand. “A daddy?”
“A sugar daddy, a rich old guy. They said Tiffany followed him wherever he went.” Her voice drops. “They said he liked it rough—bondage, strangling…” She takes another deep drag and exhales the blue smoke. “I guess she liked it that way, too.”
For a few moments, we’re quiet. Toni’s studying the sheet; I expect she’s thinking about her dead friend. I’m thinking about how betrayed Melissa felt when she discovered her husband was cheating. I wonder if she knows the extent of his private practices.
Toni breaks our reverie, and her voice has a hard edge that I confess is pretty powerful. “I’ll do your fucking job. I’ll help you get the fucker who hurt her.”
“We’ll need to work out a timeline.” Patrick is focused, in closer-mode. “He’s not in Baltimore at the moment—”
“Probably looking for a new girl.” It’s a bitter retort, and I can tell Toni’s going to do a good job for us. She’s got a dog in this fight now. Just like me.
Patrick continues. “When he gets back to Baltimore, we’ll work out a chance encounter. Maybe you can meet him at a bar.”
Reaching into his jacket a second time, my partner takes out a white, business-sized envelope that’s thick with bills. He pulls out ten Benjis and slides them across the table. “You’ll get the rest when we settle up.”
She picks up the money and folds it, slipping it into her bra. Classy. “You have my number.”
And just like that. The plan to capture Sloan is set in motion.
Patrick drops me off at Melissa’s beach cottage, and we discuss heading back to Baltimore for the next—however long it takes. On the road I’d gotten confirmation that Sloan is back in Maryland. It’s time for us to act, but we need to scout out a secure hotel for Toni that’s inconspicuous and somewhat high-end. We also need to be able to be in the next room or somehow in close proximity to where she’ll be.
“I’ll look for two extra rooms wherever we put Toni,” he says. “Will Melissa come with you?”
“No.” I’m standing outside the car, talking to him through the window. “I don’t want her there, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to be there.”
“You might run that past her before deciding.” He looks out the windshield, away from me. “Melissa’s tough. She might surprise you with what she wants.”
“She wants to put all of this behind her, and as much as I hate leaving her here alone, at least her mother and Elaine are nearby. We’ll be watching Sloan.”
He glances back. “Elaine might be with me.”
That’s not what I want to hear. “What about school?”
Patrick laughs, shaking his head. “She won’t admit it, but she doesn’t like me working with Toni.”
“I can’t say I like it myself, but if she helps us, I can overlook a lot.” For a moment, I consider assuring Elaine I’ll keep an eye on my partner, but I know it’s not necessary. Elaine’s got him tied up in more ways than one.
“If she decides to stay, I’ll ask if she’ll bunk in with Mel while we’re gone.”
Nodding, I pat the top of the car. “Will you be ready tomorrow, noon?”
“With bells on.”
He takes off, and I walk slowly toward the little cottage. It’s the only residence for several hundred feet, secluded in the sea grass, far enough away from the water that storms aren’t a problem, but close enough to run down and enjoy the surf easily.
It’s a great place. The only thing I hate about it is she’s completely alone out here, and no one is close enough to check on her. The thought twists a sick feeling in my gut.
Through the screen, I can see her sleeping on the small couch on the side porch again, but this time the side door is locked. Somewhat relieved, I pull out the key she gave me and unlock it. She doesn’t stir as I cross the small space to where she’s curled up on the pillows.
Dropping to my knees, I smooth her hair off her cheek and give her a light kiss there. She’s such a heavy sleeper now. Still, a little smile plays at the corner of her mouth.
“Melissa,” I whisper, running my thumb across her cheek. I hate to wake her, but it’s after six. Kissing her cheek again, I whisper in her ear. “Wake up, beautiful.”
She inhales quickly and pulls back, eyes flying open. “Oh!”
“I’m sorry, did I scare you?”
Covering her face with her hand, she laughs. “I was dreaming… about you.”
That sounds promising. “Something dirty?”
Her hand lowers, and she gives me those eyes. “So judgmental. I would never call what we do dirty.”
Grinning, I wrap her in my arms. “Now I feel challenged. How can I change your mind about this?”
Her elbows are bent, and she’s threading her fingers in my hair still smiling. “Whatever we do, I won’t be able to call it dirty. I love you too much.”
There’s no getting around it. She gets a kiss for that, but just as I push her lips apart, tasting her sweet mouth, finding her tongue, she puts her hands on my cheeks and moves me back.
“Tell me about today. Were you and Patrick successful? Everything work out?”
Remembering how today went, what we learned about Jessica Black and what’s coming provokes a frown I can’t hide. Melissa is on it fast. “Did she not agree to help you?”
“She agreed to help us.” Releasing her, I rise from my knees to sit on the end of the couch, pulling her feet in my lap. “And I’m more convinced than ever we’re doing the right thing. Even if it bends a few rules.”
“Sloan’s built his life around bending rules and deception.”
I’m surprised by this response from her. “So you’re not against what we’re doing anymore?”
She sighs and pushes herself up to a sitting position. “The more I’ve thought about it, the more convinced I am that even if he leaves me alone, he’ll just find a new victim. How can I let that happen?”
I unwrap the blanket and find one of her soft feet. Massaging it, I nod my agreement. She had to come to this decision on her own, and I’m glad she did.
“He would find another victim, it seems. Based on what Toni told us today.”
Melissa’s eyes drift to the screen facing the ocean and beyond it. “He was so charming in the beginning. Kind and generous.”
“You never told me how you fell in love with him, but I assumed he had to be different.”
She looks back at her lap, and I know this is hard for her. She once told me what happened with Sloan was her “humiliating truth.” I want her to know she can trust me with this. I would never judge her. Her small foot is still in my hand, and I give her arch a deep rub.
“That feels good.” She gives me a small smile, and I return it. “He reminded me of my dad a little. Not in a creepy way. But my father was much older than my mom. I’m sure they had a passionate relationship, but all I saw growing up was how he took care of her. How she would go to him for advice, and how good he was to her.”
“You said Sloan was one of your clients.”
“His father was. Actually, it was the family business, so I interacted with Mr. Reynolds, Sloan, and other executives there. Sloan’s father was probably what clouded my judgment. I saw him treat Sloan’s mother—”
“He treated her like your father treated your mother, and you assumed like father, like son. It’s perfectly reasonable.”
Her eyes are full of gratitude when they meet mine. “It felt so familiar and good. Until it didn’t.”
I fish out her other foot to rub. “Don’t want you walking funny the rest of the day.”
“Unless it’s from sleeping with you?”
It’s hard to ignore the stirring below my belt when she makes suggestions like that. “I think you have a type, darling. You like older men.”
She pulls her foot back and crawls across the sofa into my arms. “You’re only a little older—”
“Ten years.”
“Compared to twenty.” Her arms are around my neck, but she drops her chin. “I was such a dumb little girl when I met him.”
“You were twenty—”
“Six. Almost twenty-seven and completely swept off my small-town feet by his wealth and sophistication.”
Catching that chin, I lift her face to kiss it. Her skin is so soft. “We all make mistakes every now and then.” I think about the brief period I knew Sloan years ago. “He did my orientation when I started at Princeton, so we spent a little time together. I never saw any sign of his true character.”
My lips move from her cheek to her temple, to her hair, where I inhale deeply. Something is definitely on the rise down below, aided by her hand finding its way under my shirt and sliding across my stomach.
“That was a mistake.” Her voice is thick with desire. “You were a surprise. A gift.”
Speaking of gifts, I notice one gift is still not around her neck, but I’m not about to spoil this moment. “I hope you were able to relax today.”
Her head drops to my shoulder, and I kiss her again, noticing that wandering hand is unfastening the button of my jeans. An ache moves through my groin, anticipating her touch.
“You must think I’m terribly lazy always being asleep when you get here.” Her hand is inside my jeans now, small fingers wrapping around me, sliding slowly up and down.
My voice is a husky groan in her ear before I kiss it. “I’d never call you lazy.” I pull her up, so I can attend to the skin around her neck. She shivers in that delicious way as I consume her.
“Every day at three, just like clockwork, I’m falling asleep.” She gasps as my hand travels under her sweater, pushing her bra aside so I can caress her breast. “I’ve never done that before.”
“It’s the baby.” Moving her completely onto my lap in a straddle, I push her sweater and bra all the way up, pulling her breasts together and taking them in my mouth. Her head drops to mine with a moan.
My dick rises out of my pants, but I’m not sure if she’s ready until I notice her grasping at the hem of her skirt, pulling it up quickly. She’s on her knees in front of me, and in one quick movement, she shoves her panties to the side and drops hard and fast on my aching cock.
“Fuck!” I can’t help groaning it feels so good. My hips are pushing into her, and she’s riding, both hands against the wall behind my head.
“Oh, god!” She’s riding hard and I’m pushing fast, fueled by the gripping and pulling of her inner muscles.
I’m about to blow, and I grab her waist, moving her up and down, my thumb circling her clit.
“Oh, Derek!” She cries out, and I lose it. It seems my timing wasn’t far off because her knees clutch my waist, and she’s holding onto me, moaning in my ear. I only lightly touch her ass now, letting her ride it out, not wanting to disturb her pleasure. It’s fucking sending me to the moon, and I drop my head back, savoring the sensations of her coming over me.
A few movements more, we hold each other for a bit, coming down. God, to think I have a lifetime of this to look forward to. She falls forward, smiling contentedly.
“Nothing about that is dirty.” Her hands go to my cheeks, and she kisses all around my mouth. “It’s pure… and real… and gorgeous… and fucking hot.”
I’m still inside her as she moves around, and damn if her sexy mouth isn’t about to have me ready to go again. “You won’t catch me trying to change your mind.”
A small laugh, a little nibble, and I have to carry her inside for more.