Chapter Seventeen
“You ordered a sandwich.”
“Jesus, Roy, you’ve got to stop sneaking up on me.”
He holds up his hands and takes the seat on the other side of the plane. “And you didn’t eat it.”
“No.” Should I tell him? Does he already know? If he did it, he does. “Have you heard?” I wait for a reaction. Nothing. “Jason’s dead,” I announce and observe his face.
He’s still, unnaturally so, and his eyes turn cold. “How?”
“They’re saying it was an overdose.”
His eyes move to the side like he’s thinking. “He doesn’t have the personality to kill himself. With his money, he could have gotten off with home incarceration.” To my way of thinking, it’s not how a guilty person would respond. “And the other man?” he asks.
I can’t bring myself to say the word disemboweled. “Found on Route 50 near the road to Stoke Castle.”
“Inconspicuous.”
“You didn’t, did you?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so, but…” What? “I needed to hear you say it.” I reach for his hand. “Is it wrong I’m relieved?”
He pulls me onto his lap. “No. Jason played with fire. He was always going to get burned in the end.”
“So this isn’t what you were going to tell me?” My heart sinks a little when he shakes his head.
Donna appears. “Please prepare for landing.” She whisks the cart away and disappears.
Roy places me back in my seat and secures the seat belt around me.
“Why do we need these now?” I liked it better when we were in bed.
“The landing’s tricky here.”
“Wow,” I exclaim at the spectacular view of the islands. “It doesn’t look real.”
“Wait till you see the house.”
“You said this was a female client’s?”
“Correct.”
It’s like we’re being shaken in the air by a giant hand. “She wasn’t…you know…I mean…” I’m floundering, trying to find the correct term.
He reaches across and takes my hand. “No. I do not have sex with my clients.”
Our joined hands bounce all over the place as the plane wheels touch down and fly back up and touch down again. The sound of the engines nulls all others until, mercifully, the plane slows, turns, and stops.
Before I can do it for myself, he has me unbuckled, in his arms, and walking down the stairs. The breeze and moist air wrap around me like a comforting blanket. In front of us is a helicopter.
“Last bit before we’re at our destination.”
I don’t have to ask if this is his, as emblazoned on the side in big letters is his company name, Titan. The outside of the helicopter seems large, but once inside it’s small.
“Okay? The landing wasn’t too much for you?”
I’m glad he’s concerned, but what’s there to do about it? Maybe he’s afraid I’ll be sick. Wouldn’t that be romantic? “Good.” I nod, thinking he needs double confirmation on my status.
Roy dons a headset and nods for me to do the same. He places his finger over his lips.
“Slow and steady.” I hear Roy’s voice in the headset. “We’ve got a virgin on board.”
My mouth opens in shock.
“Roger.” The pilot confirms. “She won’t even know we’re off the ground. Have you there in ten.”
Roy gives me a wink and takes my hand.
I wish I could say I enjoy the ride. I don’t. I squeeze Roy’s hand when we finally hover over an area and the landing skids touch down on earth.
“Braid your hair,” Roy instructs.
I look at him like he’s sprung another head. Aren’t we supposed to be getting off this contraption? He points toward the rotors. Oh, I see. Don’t want to be an Isadora Duncan. Instead of death by a scarf, it would be death by long, curly hair.
He slides the door open and waits for me. Though he stands tall and walks regularly, I’m hunched over and fast-walking past him to escape the deafening roar of the rotors. When well past the blade’s reach we turn and watch the copter ascend back into the sky.
I turn around, the dense jungle all around us. “Is this it?”
“Up there.” Roy points to a peak. “We have to take the Jeep.”
Maybe staying in Middleburg would have been better. We’ve taken a jet, a helicopter, and now a ride through the jungle to get to this place. I expect Tarzan to swing by.
“Trust me; it will be worth it when you see it.”
The road is more of what Aunt Stella would call a goat path, overrun by plants whose leaves and fronds find their way into the Jeep until I lean against Roy to keep from getting slapped in the face. While my nose is a tad out of joint about all this, Roy is refreshed and happy. If only I could look so good after two hours’ sleep.
I’m sure at any moment we’ll tip over backward from the steepness of the climb and have a death grip on Roy’s arm until we pop out of the jungle onto a cleared plateau. The goat path turns into a crushed stone drive leading up to a white structure with no windows. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was some sort of penitentiary hidden away on the island.
“It’s nothing to look at from this side. Wait till you see the view.”
This is not the stern and controlled Roy I’ve grown accustomed. This is a happy, almost carefree version. He grabs two bags from the back of the Jeep and takes my hand to lead me to the mausoleum-looking front door, swinging it open and dramatically sweeping his hand for me to go through.
Inside, it’s a modern confection of floor-to-ceiling windows and open spaces with sleek furniture. What’s outside has me mesmerized. It’s like being in a treehouse with the sky right there like you could walk out onto a cloud. Forgetting the difficult trip, I walk through the house and out onto the patio surrounding the pool. There is no wall of separation between the two. The pool flows right to the edge of the property—for we are truly on a cliff—and beyond is the ocean.
“It’s something, isn’t it?”
I don’t possess the words to express how stunningly beautiful and quiet it is except for the distant surf and the sounds of the breeze rustling through the leaves.
“We’re the only ones on this side of the island. It’s a nature preserve.”
“Why would anyone want to sell this place?”
“She’s in her nineties and doesn’t have any lawful heirs.”
How sad. This home should be passed to future generations. “If it’s a nature preserve—”
“How was the house built here?” He finishes the question for me. “Her family deeded it over to the National Park Service with the stipulation they would retain rights to build and live in the house, along with the acreage to the beach.”
“If she sells, won't it null the agreement?”
“Not if I’m the bastard grandson.” He wraps me in his arms and whispers in my ear. “Why don’t we take a swim? Have dinner, and you can hear me out.”
“Grandmother?” What the hell? “I thought you didn’t have a family.”
“That’s a story for another time. Come on.” Roy leads me into the bedroom. As with all the other rooms, it’s dominated by a wall of windows. There is no division between the bedroom and the shower and bath. It’s all one large space. I don’t see a toilet, so I have hopes it’s tucked away behind a door. He drops the two bags on the bed and kicks off his shoes. “I brought you some bathing suit options.” He points to the canvas and leather bag. “Though, if you don’t mind, I prefer to go without.”
I can’t meet his eyes, which I’m sure are waiting for me to blush a scarlet red.
“Well, Daisy, if it bothers you, I’ll put something on.”
“No problem,” I squeak, and try to cover it with a cough.
He’s stripped, carefully folded his clothes, and opened the glass cantilevered doors before I even unzip the bag. I do sneak a peek at his muscled backside as he walks out into the tropical sun.
True to his word; he has packed three bathing suits: one blazing, red bikini, all straps and triangles; a white one-piece; and a demure tankini with a flower design. Curious, I pull out the rest of the clothes. A couple sundresses, shorts and t-shirts, flip-flops, a hat, two bottles of sunscreen, lace underwear, some toiletries—all my brands—and a fresh packet of my birth control pills. Crap, I’d forgotten about those still sitting on my bathroom vanity. That’s Mr. Blackwood, always prepared and two steps ahead.
I hear the splash of the water. I’m sure he’s impatient for me to join him. Do I dare go unclothed? He’s seen me naked before. I blush from head-to-toe when I think of him bending me over the sofa and spanking me.
I go to the full-length mirror and take in my appearance. My breasts make me look curvier than I truly am. I do have hips and thighs, though they’re toned from running and riding horses. I take off my Mangler shirt and unhook my three-for-ten-dollars bra. I don’t see the attraction Roy has for my body, nor do I see anything to be ashamed of. I slip out of my khaki shorts and panties. What difference will a few scraps of fabric make?
“They’ll give him something to look forward to.” I hear Aunt Stella’s voice in my head. “A man doesn’t want to see it all out there on display. He wants to uncover your secrets.”
He’s seen me naked. Yes, I counter, but I was impaired. I decide on the white one-piece.
Roy’s at the edge of the infinity pool with his back to the view, watching me walk out. From the smile on his face, I know I’ve made the right choice. “There’s a school of dolphins out there.” He wraps my back into his chest and points us toward the ocean. “Tomorrow, we’ll take the boat out. Sometimes they’ll come up.”
Under normal circumstances, I’d be awed by the view, but with his chest pressed firmly into my back and his arms encircling me, it just doesn’t seem that important. “So.” I giggle at the tickling sensation of him nibbling on my neck. “Your grandmother owns this. That’s a twist I wasn’t expecting.”
He chuckles and spreads his hand over my stomach. “My mother would do a Thomas Hardy novel proud.”
I clutch the secret Gavin shared with me and vow to do all I can to make his future a happy one. “You’ll buy it?”
“Do you like it?”
“What’s not to like?”
He slides down my body until our upper halves are even. I suspect he’s being respectful and keeping his erection from pressing against me, which isn’t what I want at all. I want it hard against me and in me and…
When I turn in his arms, the reflection of the sun and water make his eyes resemble perfect emeralds, inhuman and infinitely attractive. He dips down in the water while still holding me up, and kisses my belly before rising. With his hair slicked back and the tan he already has from whatever desert land he’s visited, it’s almost unbearable to look upon such beauty. I know this image of him will stay with me until I die.
“Let’s get some dinner.” Effortlessly, with his arm around my waist, he glides through the water and carries me up the stairs, planting my feet on the warm pool deck. Before I can ogle him, he wraps a towel around his waist and one around my shoulders. “You can have anything you want as long as it’s quesadillas.”
I dry off. “What’s so magical about quesadillas?”
“That’s all I know how to make, except for eggs.”
I twist the water from my hair. “I’m shocked. I thought you’d be a gourmet chef.”
“Nope, the basics. I’m a man who knows his limitations.”
As I follow him inside, I notice the cut on his shoulder is now a scar. It’s sobering to see the numerous old wounds marring his beautiful body.
“You know, I don’t need any of this. I mean, it’s nice, but all I want is you.”
He turns around so abruptly I bump into him. “You want more, do you?”
It’s a vague statement. More spankings, yes, I do. More of his hands and mouth on my body, most definitely. Not more talking though. I don’t want to hear what he has to say.
“If you’re going to keep up with me, you’ll need to eat.” He runs his finger over my lower lip. “I intend to put you to bed exhausted.”
“Can we talk…tomorrow?”
“No.” His tone is inflexible as stone as he drags me along inside.
“You’re so bossy.” I stomp my feet like a petulant child.
“It’s non-negotiable.”
“I hate when you say that.”
“Better you hate me now then hate me later.”
It’s disorienting the way he can slip between playful and serious so quickly. “I could never hate you.”
“With all my heart, I hope that’s true.”
“I’ve waited long enough.” I grouse, as he steps behind a gigantic kitchen island.
“Patience is a virtue, Miss Aldridge.”
“As is chastity, so what’s your point?”
“Such a smart mouth.” He pulls items from the industrial refrigerator. “I’m going to enjoy putting my cock in it.”
All the air leaves my lungs as his sexy voice does unholy things to my body. His smirk tells me he knows the exact effect he has on me.
“Sit, while I make dinner.”
He sees my hesitation. “The sooner we’re done here, the sooner I can carry you off to bed.”
I immediately sit. I’m so easy.
“Here.” He pulls a Coke out of the refrigerator and hands it to me.
I pop the tab on the can. “How was the mission?”
“You try to do more good than harm, but I doubt we made any difference.”
“Will you ever talk to me about your work?”
“When I can. When it’s appropriate.” While a tortilla warms, he dices cooked chicken into tiny chunks.
“Why were you in Middleburg five years ago? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? When I asked, you got all weird and said we needed to talk.”
“You do like quesadillas?”
“Yes,” I exhale.
“Eat this first.” He flips the tortilla filled with cheese and chicken onto a plate.
I open my mouth to argue, but his determined look halts me. “Half. I’ll eat half.”
“Always the negotiator, Miss Aldridge.”
“I’d like to be deflowered before midnight.”
His eyes sparkle like green diamonds. “Something magical about midnight? A pumpkin? Glass slippers?”
“No.” I grin. “I thought you’d be more…excited and not so much into talking…about…you know?”
“I do know.” His voice sounds like sex, or what I imagine sex would sound like if it could talk. “I’ve never made love to a woman before. I want to do this the right way.”
I need to work on my sultry glances. All I can manage is to twist my fingers in my lap and hold myself in place instead of launching my body into his. “Right…the Marquis de Sade probably had less sex than you.”
“Fucking is not the same as making love.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I mutter and take the offered plate. “Maybe I want to be fucked.” I know I don’t want him to treat me like something fragile.
“Not tonight.” He pours a glass of red wine and leans against the counter, waiting for me to finish.
I gulp down my food. “I’m done.” And hold my plate for him to see. “No more delays, Mr. Blackwood.”
He heaves in a deep breath, drinks the whole glass of wine, and immediately pours another healthy amount. “In the living room.”
Why do we need to move? It’s an open-concept home. One area is as good as another to tell me something I probably don’t want to hear. When he nods to the sofa, I sink into a million down feathers.
“Now.” He sips his wine. “What happened to you five years ago?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“No, Daisy.”
Let’s see, five years ago I would have been in high school. I didn’t sleep last night, so I’m not as sharp as I should be, but still, it takes me an embarrassing minute or two to calculate I would have been sixteen. At sixteen I was a junior and…
“No.” I stand with the sudden realization of where he’s going with this conversation.
“Yes.” He places his glass on the coffee table. “What happened?”
“You know... Charlie and everything.”
“Sit, please.”
“I want to forget,” I whisper. “Please don’t make me talk about this tonight.”
“I know you do, baby.” Roy slips his hand into mine and pulls me to the sofa. “I should have told you sooner. That I was there, with you that night.”
“No.” I try to stand, but he still has a hold of my hand. “You’re lying. I would remember. I remember everything.” Do I? I don’t even know how I got home. And the dominoes fall into place. “I was right. That day in Jason’s trailer…you did know me.”
“Yes. And I thought you remembered me, too. It’s one of the reasons I took you to breakfast—so we could talk.”
I want to escape, to run, to do anything but talk about this, but I can’t because I’m so tired of my whole life being controlled by that one incident. I should have told the police, and my aunts, and Vincent, instead of hiding and pretending like it never happened. “Why wouldn’t I remember you?”
“I don’t know. Shock. Slight concussion. Maybe both.”
“And you were there because…”
“You know Mr. Stanwyck was an—”
I wrangle out of his grasp. “Was an initial investor. I know all that. Would you get to it?” I’m ready to crumble for fear of what he’ll say.
“I was there to keep tabs on his son.”
“Charlie?”
“Yes, to watch him and investigate any associates while he was home from being kicked out of school again.”
I stumble back and bump into the ottoman. “That’s not what you do.” Maybe it was back when he was a fixer.
“You’re right. It was a favor to a valued client who was worried about his child.”
Quick as my shaky legs will take me, I move to the patio outside. “Don’t, don’t you dare come any closer to me. You lied.”
“It was wrong not to tell you right away, but at first I thought you knew me. And then I realized you had no memory of it, maybe a mental block of some kind. When you told me you’re a virgin, I knew I had to explain before anything more happened between us.”
“That’s why you left that night.”
He takes a step closer to me.
“Stop,” I warn, seeing him tense to rush me. I take two more steps back.
“Please.” He kneels and places his hands behind his head. “You’re right on the pool edge.”
I scissor-step to the left, and stand behind a chaise. Unwanted tears flow.
“There you go, crazy girl, crying. You’ve always been a cliché.” Charlie joins the conversation. “Roy’s not going to let you go. He’s more of a killer than you are. You’re so fucked.”
“Hit me. Cut me. Do anything you want to me, but please, please, don’t cry.”
“I need to go home.” I close my eyes, willing myself to my woods, to my home.
“Hear me out.”
The panic in Roy’s voice causes me to open my eyes. He’s still on his knees. His beautiful eyes are wary. I’ve never seen Roy scared. He’s scared of me, of what I’ll do.
“He knows you’re a crazy bitch. The man might have a massive hard-on for you, but he’s not an idiot.” Charlie laughs. “He’s in love with you. Doesn’t matter. We don’t need him. Just you and me and a razor.”
What am I doing to him? To myself? My knees give out and hit the concrete hard, too numb right now to feel the pain.
“Daisy,” he cries out and rushes to my side. “I’ll do whatever you want, just please; don’t hurt yourself because of me.”
It takes an eternity to lift my hand to rest against his face. “Tell me the rest of it.”
He scoops me up and carries me back inside, placing me on the sofa. Then he backs away, grabbing the bottle of wine, and sits in the far chair on the other side of the coffee table. “Mr. Stanwyck hired me to watch over Charlie. Said his boy was selling drugs. I followed him for a few days and found nothing. Charlie was a lot of things, but drug dealer was not one of them. I don’t know why Mr. Stanwyck was scared for Charlie. Whatever the reason, it was bad enough that he was sending him out of the country to a school in Switzerland the morning after the dance.”
I remember Charlie talking about how he didn’t want to leave.
“The day of the dance, Mr. Stanwyck called. He thanked me and told me my services were no longer needed.”
“Charlie didn’t know you were watching him?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you go home? Why were you still following him?”
“I…” Roy drains the bottle and tosses it aside. “I saw you.” He keeps his head down like a sinner in prayer. “I was captivated by you. Hated the thought of him touching you.”
“Oh my god, you were attracted to me? At sixteen?”
“I know it was wrong. I would have never touched you, not at that age.”
“Because you’re not a monster,” I whisper.
“I am a monster, but never with you. You’ve got to believe me. I’m incapable of harming you.”
“You watched?” My hands turn to ice.
“I didn’t know what was happening inside the car. I thought you were making out, or whatever kids call it today. I swear I had no idea what he was doing.”
“When I hit him over the head…you were there, weren’t you?”
He barely nods, like he doesn’t want to interrupt my memories.
It’s like pushing through a dense fog and trying to decipher the shapes in front of me. “You punished him.”
“My emotions took over.” He rubs his hands on his thighs. “That never happens.”
I remember a large man coming out of the shadows and descending on Charlie. I backed away, fell, and… “I thought it was Charlie reaching out to me.”
“It was me.” He drops his head into his hands. “You ran. The more I chased you, the crazier…”
I wince at the word.
“Sorry, the more distraught you became. So I fell back and followed until you dropped, and carried you to my car.” He closes the distance between us and kneels in front of me. “I had you in the car outside your aunts’ home, debating my next step, when you awoke, got out of the car, and ran into the house. Do you remember any of it? I called out your name, but you never looked back.”
I shake my head. Maybe I am crazy. “And Charlie?”
Roy looks like he’s run a marathon. “What were you told about the accident?”
“He was drunk and lost control of the car.” My eyes widen. “Was it because you beat him?” I instantly wish I could take back my words. “I know you were only trying to protect me.”
Roy shakes his head. “No, it wasn’t the accident that killed him. He was found propped up against his car with his head in his lap. That’s why the police kept looking for answers.” He lightly touches my skinned knees.
“He was murdered?”
“Yes.”
“By whomever Mr. Stanwyck was afraid of.”
“Yes. I should have bundled you up and taken you to your aunts. I could have prevented all the suffering you’ve endured trying to keep this secret.”
Puzzle pieces fall into place. His need to protect me. The way I always felt safe around him. Somewhere in my subconscious, I remembered.
“Then why does Mr. Stanwyck hate me?” I search Roy’s eyes.
“He thinks you know more.” He takes my hand. “And he blames you because he can’t face that if he’d kept me on duty his son would be alive.”
“Poor Charlie.” Roy’s eyes have pain and torment lurking in their depths. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
He nods his head. “Have you seen a picture of Whitcomb and Bobby’s mother?”
“No. Is it the one with her wearing the ring?” The unwanted birthday gift I gave back to the Stanwyck family.
Roy’s expression hardens. “Haven’t you ever suspected you might be a Stanwyck?”
“No,” I exhale. “No way.” Charlie’s words replay in my head. Why are you so special? What did he know? “You think this Elizabetta, the woman with the ring, was my mother?”
“Could be.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“Proctor’s working on that. She rented a cottage from Mr. Barnes.”
“Stoke Castle.” I stand, needing distance to process everything. “And you’re buying a house in Middleburg.”
“I never stopped thinking about you. Wondering how you were. Needing to be worthy of you.”
“Worthy of me? I’m nobody.”
“You’re everything to me.”
“Roy,” I whisper and don’t fight when he pulls me into his chest, and I’m comforted by the steady beat of his heart. “I understand why you didn’t tell me.” Like Proctor said, maybe it’s best to let all this go. “I don’t want to waste any more time on the past. What’s important is we’ve found each other, and right now I want you to make love to me.”
He pulls me away from his chest to read my face. “You promised to get help.”
His body is riddled with scars from God knows who trying to kill him, and he’s worried about a few scratches? “You’re right, I did. It was…” In truth, I don’t want to speak with anyone about my issues. “I will. I just need time. Alright? No more talk of Charlie or Mr. Stanwyck or the rest while we’re here. Okay? And I don’t want you to treat me like I’m fragile. I’m so sick of being innocent. Promise me you’ll show me everything, tonight.”