After showers, which Mattie demanded she take alone, Kayla filled their stomachs with a hot meal. Looking at the kitchen clock above the sink, the little copper hand struck ten p.m. Greg nudged Mattie to follow him.
She barely shook her head. “I’m not staying.”
Greg’s chest tightened with those three words. Regardless, he wanted to spend a few moments with her alone and she didn’t seem opposed.
Kayla and Austen read the heavy pall in the room and each picked up a child, then excused themselves.
Placing a hand on her jiggling knee, Greg wanted to shatter Mattie’s tension. If he didn’t want her to walk out the front door, he needed to come up with a good reason. “Why don’t we go to bed?”
Mattie turned her beautiful eyes on him. About to seduce her into joining him upstairs, he suddenly stopped. He was doing it again, using sex as a decoy instead of sharing his feelings with words versus actions.
“Mademoiselle, I wish to talk.”
She raised a brow. “Now, JTF? I thought the after-party was just getting started. A final session of wild crazy sex. That’s what you want, right?”
The word final was like a sharpened tip of a dart pricking his future.
In the car, she’d turned up the volume on her journalistic talents and asked Austen four times during the short drive if he used his lip-reading skills on the ferry when the cop gave Montgomery the slip of paper. Austen replied with the same answer each time, “Wasn’t watching, sorry. Probably something they found in his quarters they need to follow-up on.” Slick, Greg thought. Not exactly a lie, but not the truth either.
Instead of drawing Mattie upstairs, he clasped her hand and led her to the couch. In order not to be tempted, Greg sat in the plump leather chair across from her. “You didn’t believe I would save you, but I would have gone to the ends of the earth to find you.”
“I can’t believe I survived. I had my doubts when I was tied to that pipe in the engine room.” She forked her fingers and stared down at them. “But if you think I don’t have faith in you, you’re wrong.” She blinked and nibbled the edge of her top lip. “I have since the day I met you. The first time I spoke with you, I knew you were a good man.” She cleared her throat and nodded. “Like I said, I’m not fond of goodbyes.”
Warmth swelled in his vacant heart. He leaned forward and shook his head. His pulse beat so hard, knowing he was about to shed the curtain he’d hidden behind all his life. Here and now, he’d place his demons at her feet. She, alone, would be his judge and jury.
“I don’t want to say goodbye, but I need to be honest with you.” He inhaled deeply, and then stared into her questioning eyes. “I’m…I am…like my brother. More than I want to admit. That—I’ve ever admitted to anyone.” Her expression remained blank, so he continued. “I joined the Forces for a reason. My deployments gave me an excuse. A controlled environment to release my rage, but sometimes it wasn’t enough.” He licked his dry lips. “The last thing I want to do is scare you away from me, but violent, dark thoughts, they’re in here.” He tapped his temple. “It’s inside me, just like an addiction remains inside of an addict. I don’t know where it comes from, maybe the same place as my father or my brother.” He bowed his head.
Mattie slowly slid from the couch and knelt at his feet, placing a hand on each of his knees. “Blackney said something similar to me on the ship.” She swallowed heavily. “But I’ve never seen you lose your temper. In fact, you’re just the opposite. You always seem in control. Strong.”
“I’ve always used sex and violence as a release. Somewhere along the way they melded together.” He swept a strand of hair from her shoulder, then palmed her cheek. He never wanted to hurt her. Couldn’t imagine laying a hand in anger on her like his father had done so many times to his mother. “I don’t know any other way to vent the anger.” He nodded. “That’s what it is. A cold, vicious anger.”
“Is this why you thought you could never commit to a woman? I mean, you did with Kayla, but it was a fractured relationship.”
“She tested my patience many times,” he admitted. “But I felt responsible for her. With you, I’m different. I know the aggression lingers inside me and that’s what scares me. I could become my brother, or worse. Maybe even Blackney. I’ve shared my bed with many women. Diana was my attempt to be normal. Still—I couldn’t commit to her, and I used the Dark Angel to vent.”
Mattie curled her hands over his. “I’m not scared of you. And I don’t believe for one second you could become a killer.”
“What if I lose my temper one day? Lose control. This darkness, it doesn’t stop for love or compassion. It has none. I make sure I never drink to the point of drunk like my old man.” He held his breath. Every word must surely be pushing Mattie farther away. “In the past, I used the club to feed my urges.” He squinted at her. “Isn’t that what Blackney did?”
“Have you ever lost control, even in the club?”
“No,” he said quietly.
“Have you ever wanted to hurt me?”
“No.”
“Even for an instant?”
He shook his head. “Not hurt, but…” He inhaled deeply. His needs were sated each time Mattie lay in his arms without the accessories of an S&M club. “No, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
“Your darkness isn’t an entity waiting in the corner of your mind for its chance to pounce.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “It’s your choice, Greg. But if you think it’s safer for the people you love, not to love them too much, then that’s what you need to do.”
Threading his fingers through her hair, he wrapped his palm around the back of her neck. “I needed you to know the truth.” He closed his eyes, ashamed and afraid. “My brother and I had a bad start in life. But I know that redemption comes with revealing the truth to someone you trust.” He opened his eyes and stared with his weakness bared to her, deep into her gaze. “I trust you.”
A little smile perched on her lips. “I hope you realize what an incredible man you are. Even if you and I are just a short-lived affair, I’m honored you chose me for a while.”
The words tumbled off his tongue. “Short-lived affair? Are you blind?”
“I’m not blind. I’m just a sucker for green eyes and seeing you naked.”
He chuckled. “Mattie, you’re an amazing woman.”
“Probably. I mean, who would fall for a guy when you never know whether he’s working late or sneaking off to give some blonde bimbo a few good lashes on her ass?”
As she tickled his ear, he shook his head. “Think we better steer away from this conversation. Even under the circumstances, you’re causing a reaction.”
She squeezed his hands as if she was going to leave him.
“Mattie, it’s been a long road for me. But I don’t feel lost anymore. Not since I met you.”
“I’ll remember that when you leave on your next deployment and all I have are naughty emails.”
“My term in the Canadian Forces is over.” He took a deep breath. How could he convince her to give up what she loved? Walk away from her dreams without revealing what was on the note?
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sensing his unrest.
“I’m going to start again. Sell everything and move to the United States. Austen offered me employment, but not a job that will have me shipping out for seven months.”
“Oh,” she said wistfully. “I see.”
He gripped her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap. “Non, Mademoiselle, you don’t. Because I’ll only go if you come with me.” Her eyes sprang wide with surprise. “I know I’m asking too much, but I’m asking because I love you.”
Mattie wiggled off his lap and backed up, her expression blank. “You…you love me?” She stepped all the way back to where the carpet met the kitchen tiles, distancing herself. “I don’t believe you.”
He couldn’t maintain the relaxed billionaire slouch and sat up straight. “Yes, you do. You’ve got a case of cold feet. And I understand. We’ve known each other for two months, most of it on the trail of a serial killer.”
Her eyes narrowed and she pointed her finger at him. “You’re a manwhore. Manwhores don’t fall in love. You said it yourself. And they certainly don’t fall in love with women who look like me.”
Anger bristled in the base of his neck. “Who look like you? You say this as if you’re unattractive. Don’t put yourself down in my presence!” He thrust to his feet and hovered over her. “If I had my way, there would already be a ring on your finger and I’d have you tied to my bed, panting and begging for release.”
Her eyes rounded. She swallowed thickly, staring up at him. Mattie’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and his heaved just as hard. The pounding of his pulse warned if she refused him, if he couldn’t see her every day for the rest of his days, he’d lose the only chance he’d have to be happy.
“A ring?” she squeaked, cleared her throat and tried again. “As in—”
“As in,”—he embraced her hands and drew her closer, kissing her knuckle—“a life together. Our life. A new adventure. Come with me.” He grinned and with one finger, gently lifted her chin to close the gaping space of her mouth with his.
Of all the choices he’d made, this was no mistake, and his heart agreed. “Let’s ship our possessions, then get on my bike and ride south. Follow the coast. A couple days in Napa. Detour to Arizona to meet your parents. You and me. Eventually, we’ll reach San Diego and a new life.”
She hadn’t answered, but a sweet smile creased her lips. “You really want this.”
As a JTF operator, failure was not an option. Without Mattie, he would feel empty, like a piece of his life was missing.
Mattie’s grin spread into a beautiful smile.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
Their timing was fucking horrible, and Greg’s guts turned over twice when Austen and Kayla entered the room.
* * * *
Thane eyed Mattie and Greg, their arms wound around each other. It wasn’t that long ago Kayla and he were like them. Oblivious to the whole world when they were within grabbing distance.
With their heads tucked together, Mattie and Greg spoke quietly to each other, but not quiet enough that Thane couldn’t hear them.
Greg stroked Mattie’s hand when he said, “You know in the JTF, I learned to make quick decisions based on facts and instinct.”
Mattie pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I do the same thing in my profession.”
Thane concealed a grin as he watched Greg kiss her, lingering on her lips to convey by touch, how much he desired her.
“At our age, we know being impetuous isn’t good.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, smiling at him.
“Considering the future and what’s best for us, isn’t exactly jumping into things.”
“No,” Mattie said, her voice breathy. “Like, say—discussing issues about family and living arrangements and…”
“Anniversaries,” Greg finished for her.
“Like those.”
“So, would I sound irresponsible if I said I know where I want our future to go? I think it should start by you and me making a big move. Your roommate is getting married. It makes sense,” he said.
“Total sense,” she agreed, grinning.
“As in, very soon.”
“As in maybe we should go find some boxes?”
“And hire a truck to ship our belongings.”
Thane rolled his eyes and whispered to Sloane, “Mommy and I were never that sappy.”
Greg coughed, but Thane swore he heard “bullshit” come out at the same time.
Kayla entered the room and clapped her hands. “I got Adam to sleep. So, what’re we doing?”
Thane sat up and cuddled his daughter. “I’d say we’re going home, sweetheart, and we’ll wait for the invitation in the mail.”
“What?” His wife’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “But they barely…”
“Kayla,” he beckoned her to him. When she sat beside him, he threw an arm around her shoulder. “Sweetheart, you said you wanted Greg to have what you have.”
She swallowed and nodded. Her brow wrinkled with love and concern.
Thane slipped a glance across the room. “Looks like our little girl is going to have a Godfather and Godmother.”
“Really?” Mattie sat straight up, her face lit like a neon bulb. “Seriously? Oh, my God, I’ve never been anyone’s Godmother.”
A bittersweet smile crossed Kayla’s expression. “I think,”—she swallowed and tears formed as she looked at Greg, whose eyes had teared up as well—“everyone deserves a happy ending.”
Greg and Kayla rose and hugged each other fiercely. Her arms squished the life out of him as they gazed into each other’s eyes.
Thane could read the words on a man’s mouth even when there was no sound, but many times the eyes told the whole story. Greg had protected and cared for Kayla all his adult life. Their love had been seeded in a time when their young hearts were broken and confused by Daniel’s violence. They shared the struggle, and both survived the journey because they had each other. And although Mattie looked a little perplexed, Thane understood because he’d travelled part of the journey with them.
Greg rubbed Kayla’s tears away. “There was a time when I believed we’d never grow old or be happy, but the war is behind us. Thank you for being my strength.”
Tears poured down her cheeks. Kayla gripped his hand and nudged him toward Mattie. “He will be your whole life. Consume your whole heart and trust you with all of his. Love him fiercely, because he deserves you, and you deserve him.”
Kayla backed away as Greg pulled Mattie into his arms. “It would be my honor to love you fiercely for the rest of my life.”
Mattie’s eyes glistened. “Mine too,” she whispered.
A smile grew on Thane’s face as the little nugget of doubt withered and its spark of life blinked once and then vanished. Kayla sat down, and he wrapped one arm around her, Sloane giggling between them.
“Think it’s time to go home,” he said, watching Greg and Mattie go for the longest running kiss of the century.
The glint in his wife’s eyes spread to her full lips. “A stop first in San Diego?”
He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll check on our place. Make sure it’s ready for Mattie and Greg to stay in till they find one of their own.”
Kayla nodded in agreement.
Mattie and Greg turned surprised looks at them.
“Seriously?” Greg asked.
Thane dug in his jean pocket and pulled out his keys, taking one off the ring and placing it in Mattie’s palm. “Very.”
He pulled Kayla to her feet and they gave their friends some privacy.
* * * *
The Monster Revealed
Times Colonist Special Investigative Report
By Mattie Bidault
Christmas is just a few days away. The streets of Victoria are lined with lit candy canes and bobbles strung from every lamp post.
The pall of dread has vanished from our vibrate city.
We’ll never forget the women taken from us by the killer we called the Ripper, but he’s not a shadow anymore. No longer a spectre waiting in the shadows. Unsuspecting, we were all victims of his bloodlust. Those who knew him should not shoulder shame. He hid his dark desires too well.
Surrounded by the Pacific Ocean, our citizens can thank the forces of Mother Nature who took his soul and pulled it into her darkest depths.
Captain Brett Blackney remains a reminder to all of us. His mind was tormented by psychosis and grief. His supposed connection to Jack the Ripper—unsubstantiated, but he believed it. Maybe we should too. Unlike his ancestor, who tormented the streets of Whitechapel over a hundred years ago, Blackney will not become a legend.
His body may never be recovered, and some of the good citizens of our city may fear that he lives, but he will never walk among us freely. He’ll never lure another woman by his captivating eyes or handsome but deadly smile.
The Victoria City Police Department served the people. Tracked him down. Never rested. The Task Force was determined to find justice for his victims and their families.
Justice was served by a watery grave.
Mattie finished typing and Greg straightened from reading over her shoulder.
“Captivating eyes, huh?” he teased.
She pushed her black-rimmed glasses up her nose and chuckled. “Well, he did. He might have been a monster and tricked us all, but he was also very sick.”
Greg sat in the chair next to her at his kitchen table. With a quick glance above his shoulder, she saw it was one in the morning. She’d talked to Sergeant Montgomery on the phone and told him what transpired when Brett had her locked in the storage room on the ship. In turn, he offered that the Port Angeles Sheriff’s office found the journals he’d spoken of in Brett’s home. She wondered whether the chronicles would disappear from existence or whether the mystery of who Jack the Ripper really was, would be put on display in a museum.
The man of her dreams skimmed her hand with one finger. Tracing a path over her knuckles. “You’re a good writer. I think you should publish a novel under a pen name.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I’d sell one book, and you’d be the sole purchaser.”
“Non, mademoiselle, you’re wrong. You have a gift.”
She leaned over, and he mirrored her movements so she could kiss him. “I love you for the thought.”
His full lips caressed her mouth, and he murmured against her lips, “I just love you.”
She smiled, then turned and emailed her article to the Colonist. Slowly, she lowered the lid of her laptop. It would be her last article and in some ways, it made her sad, but not unsure. She chose Greg over a future at the Toronto Star. The possibility of a journalism award dimmed when he held her in his arms. Maybe she was crazy. Lovesick. Yet, when he looked at her the way he did, a career in the spotlight weighed a distance second to love.
“Ready for bed?” he asked, the glint in his green eyes making her cheeks blush.
Greg led her upstairs and closed the bedroom door quietly so as not to wake their guests. Sitting on the mattress, her heart raced as he approached, drawing his shirt from his shoulders and flinging it onto a nearby cushioned chair. Standing over her, he slowly lowered his zipper. Anxious to touch him, she brushed her palms up his jean covered thighs to splay her fingers on either side of his open zipper.
“I don’t mind if you’re my alpha in our bed, as long as I’m your partner out of it.”
His jaw went taut and a sensual flame rose in his eyes. “When you lick your bottom lip like that, you make my desire explode. It’s too late to dominate you. You already have me under your control. ”
Greg needed the words she hadn’t uttered yet. They stood waiting in her heart. “I’ve never told anyone I loved them before.”
He waited. “And now?”
“You want me to run away with you?”
“Yes, Mattie. Far away.”
“But my parents!”
“Do they not spend six months of the year in Arizona? That’s just a few hours from San Diego.”
He smiled down at her. “I want you now.” He paused. “What I mean to say, is that I want to marry you now.”
Stunned, the words tumbled from her lip. “Now? Right now?”
“It’s only a few days before Christmas. I can’t think of a better present than to call you Mrs. LaPierre on Christmas Eve.”
Her love for this warrior shot to the moon, her heart gripping its fiery tail and hanging on tight. She grabbed the waistband of his jeans and yanked him on top of her.
“Yes!” She smiled up at him, her decision final.
He broke into a hearty laugh. Winding his arms around her slender waist, he rolled until she hovered above him. The ends of her thick hair resting against his muscled pecs.
“Mr. LaPierre, you make me crazy with one heated gaze, and you’re always looking at me that way.”
“I will always remember the angry words you lobbed at me as if hurtling a grenade at my feet outside the Colonist. ‘“Only a stupid man would take the chance of setting you free.’ I’m not stupid and I want you beside me for the rest of my life.’”
“Sometimes my Irish doesn’t think before it speaks.”
“I’ll remember that,” he said, thumbing the sides of her arms.
“When I saw you in the pub, I thought you were a movie star or a model, but I fell in love anyway, believing I’d never see you again. And even if I did, there was no way a man like you would look at me.” She grinned. “Well, maybe it was lust, but for sure when I looked in your eyes the first time, I was totally lost.”
She slid down his taut body and fingered the band of his underwear, lowering it just enough to reveal the head of his shaft. Kissing the crown, her wet tongue followed the mushroom shaped contour.
He closed his eyes. “Phew.” He threaded his fingers through her hair. As she mouthed his sensitive parts, she hummed. “Maybe next time we’ll go slowly,” he suggested.
Easily, he rolled her onto her back and pressed her shoulders to the bed, undressing her inch by infuriating, delicious inch. He kissed her bare skin until she lay in front of him raw, wet and wanting. Greg wrapped his hands around her thighs and drew her core to brush against his shaft.
“I love you so much,” she said with a woosh of words.
“J’taime, mon trésor.”
She savored each delicious stroke, making love to him not like the women of his past, but the woman who would be his future.
Completely and forever his.