Chapter Four
“Since when do we listen to head banging heavy metal?”
Reaching over and turning down the radio, I give my crazy ass husband a revolted look. Since saying our goodbyes to Zack and Krista, my husband has been acting normally, drawing slow circles with his hand on my leg . . . until he turned on the radio and found this music.
Now, he is pouring his heart and soul into doing his best to try and sing to whatever the song is playing on the radio. Not that I don’t like this kind of music, but the entire car feels like it is shaking because he has it up so loud. My eardrums are about ready to fucking burst, not to mention I am so pissed off at him I can hardly hold this shit in anymore.
“What the hell is your problem? You have been acting like a complete and utter bitch today. If you have an issue with me then spit it the fuck out.”
I don’t even know how to respond to that rude remark. I’m acting strange? What the hell? Oh, how badly I want to reach across this console and shove those words right back down his throat and choke him with them.
“Well? Are you going to answer me or not?” he demands. I whip my head around and glare at him.
“You just called me a bitch, something you have never done before! You really want to know what my FUCKING problem is?” I lean over and get right in his face. “It’s the fact that you were practically fucking Krista with your goddamned eyes right in front of me and Zack. That’s what my fucking problem is!” I seethe.
“I did no such thing. Have you completely lost your mind?” The expression on his face looks as if I have just bitch slapped him.
“No, but I am beginning to think that you have lost yours.” I poke my finger in his chest as I spit out my words.
“Damn, baby, I am sorry again. Why would I do something like that when I have you to look at all day long? When I was looking at her, all I was thinking about was how good she looked after just having a baby. Jesus Christ! I can’t believe you would think that of me. That stings, here.” He taps himself over his heart.
Fuck! This is so damn aggravating, this back and forth bullshit and keeping my inkling of Turner’s infidelity, or whatever the hell kind of secret he is hiding, to myself. I take a deep breath then exhale slowly.
“You’re right, and I am sorry, too. I just . . . I don’t know what I am thinking. I don’t have a problem with you. I really don’t,” I lie again, and thank God that it is dark out so he cannot see my face.
Fuck it. I don’t want to argue with him anymore, I just want to distance myself from my emotions, climb into my bed, and wake up relieved that this was one big, ugly nightmare. Yeah, right, I chuckle to myself. How in the hell can I do that when the one who is holding my emotions in the palm of his hands is sitting right next to me? This sure as hell is no nightmare, this is a damn hurricane that has stormed into my life out of nowhere and laid at my damn doorstep filling my entire world with nothing but terror.
Silence fills the car the rest of the way home. I need the silence just as much as I need to sleep. I just can’t seem to turn off my brain. The things Zack both did and didn’t say have me on edge. I’m scared, worried, nervous, and above all, concerned about my brother’s uncertainties regarding Turner.
If I don’t start acting like myself then Turner is going to suspect I know something. He’s not one to be easily manipulated. Maybe I should seduce him when we get home and remind him of everything that we’ve shared.
I take a glance at his handsome features in the dark out of my peripheral vision.
God, he is so achingly handsome with his manly, dark stubble. Who wouldn’t want him any way they could have him? He has a gregarious personality and one hell of a stellar smile. A piece of art sculpted to perfection.
I am so in love with this man and my heart is broken and beating silently in my chest. I just cannot believe he would do this to me . . . to us. And why? Is it me? Am I not adventurous enough in bed with him? Am I not good enough for him anymore? They say your partner will stray elsewhere to get the sexual satisfaction they need. Have I pushed him away? Never, not once.
Our appetite for one another is way above average; I know this from talking to my girlfriends whenever we’re together. None of their husbands seem to have either Turner’s sex drive or his stamina. Hell, my friend Shelly says she gets more out of her BOB than she does her husband.
“At least my vibrator will do everything I ask him to,” she always says.
But not Turner. I never have to ask him to do a thing; he just does it and does it well. Stop! I scream at myself. You’re driving yourself crazy.
“Clove? We’re home, babe.”
My eyes pop open and I jump in my seat, noticing that we’re in our garage.
“You dozed off for about ten minutes. Come on. Let’s get inside and get ready for bed.”
He reaches down and unhooks my seatbelt and then undoes his own. We both climb out of the car and head into the house, where I toss my purse and iPad onto the counter. I retrieve a bottle of water out of the fridge and make my way up the stairs without a backwards glance.
I am so exhausted right now that even the autopilot I have been running on for the past day and a half is burning out.
“I’m going to go take a nice, long bath before bed,” I call out.
“Sounds good. I’ll be up in a bit,” he says casually.
I pour a small amount of lavender scented bath oil into the tub and adjust the water to as hot as I can possibly stand it. I look around and admire the beauty of this room, the one room I demanded we remodel when we bought this house three years ago.
It’s exactly how I pictured it to be. Everything is white except the floor, which is a deep navy blue. The shower is off to the left and surrounded by glass with the same color blue tile covering one wall. That shower is Turner’s favorite spot for us to make love. It was his only request when we remodeled, to have a walk in shower large enough for the two of us, while my request was this huge, round bathtub where we could both lie back and relax during the big tax season.
I sigh and brush away a lone tear at the thought of the many times we have made love in this bathroom. The morning he left, I was standing right in front of the double sink vanity applying my makeup when he crept up behind me, wrapping me in his big, strong arms. He started kissing the back of my neck all the way down my spine until he reached my ass, where he massaged my cheeks and slowly pulled my panties down my legs.
Without either one of us saying a word, he spun me around to face him and buried his face between my legs. It was mere seconds before I erupted all over him, and when he lifted me up on the counter, spread me wide, and slammed into me, the only sounds coming out of our mouths were our pants and moans. Our eyes locked on each other said everything.
He loves me, I have no doubt about it at all . . . and yet, why do I feel like the man downstairs is a stranger to me?
I strip out of my clothes then step in and submerge myself as deep as I can, trying to relax. It doesn’t take long for the steam and the warmth from the tub to loosen me up.
Just as I am about to turn on the jets, the bathroom door opens and in walks Turner, completely naked.
My mouth goes dry as my gaze slides straight to his cock. It’s thick and hard and pointing right at me. I lick my lips and suddenly, the familiar ache between my legs that only looking at my husband can bring on, is back. Even though a little voice in the back of my head wonders if his dick has been in anyone else lately, I still want him. He’s MINE.
“Do you want to get in here with me?” I say invitingly.
“I don’t want to get in the bathtub, but I sure as fuck want to get in you.”
His eyes roam over every inch of my body and I want him inside me so badly. I would give anything to reconnect with my husband and make love to him, but by the way he is looking at me, making love is not what he has in mind. He wants to fuck my brains out. Well, if that is what Turner wants, I will do anything, and I mean anything, to save my marriage.
I eagerly arise from the tub and go to grab a towel, but he beats me to it. He bends down and starts lightly patting my skin with it to dry me off. Starting at my toes, he works his way up to my chest. Once he’s standing, he drops the towel to the floor and caresses my smooth, oily skin.
“Your skin is so soft. It’s flawless.” I am mesmerized and can’t even speak as he moves and cups my breast with his hands. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore. I fucking hate it.”
He drops his head and takes one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. I let out a gasp and the deep breath that I didn’t even know I was holding.
“I hate fighting with you too, lover boy,” I moan.
Turner releases my nipple and moves over to the other, where he sucks even harder. He moves his other hand to cup one of the cheeks of my ass and pulls me into him.
“I’ve been a dick since I’ve come back,” he says, releasing my nipple and bringing his head up to look me in the eye. “Forgive me.”
“I forgive you,” I smile.
“Good. Because I need to fuck you right here and right now.”
I form my mouth into an O at his blunt words.
“What if I just want you to make slow, passionate love to me instead?” I ask, linking my hands together around his neck.
His facial expression changes from lust to confusion and his lips get tight as he draws them into a stiff line.
“If that’s what you want?” he asks, his words strained.
I become more and more self-conscious as I stand there, watching him struggle with the concept of making love to his wife. Fuck, I know I should say something, but I reel my feelings in. I just don’t know the right words to say. In the end I concede, and lift up on my tiptoes and bite gently on his bottom lip.
“All I want is you, babe.”
Removing my hands from around his neck, I place them around his hard shaft and begin to stroke him. He hisses and lets out the loudest growl I have ever heard from him as I continue with one hand and graze my other over his balls, rolling them gently in my hand.
“Fuck, your hands are so smooth. I don’t want gentle. I want it rough and I want it hard and I want it now, so get on your hands and knees.”
He takes a step back and I lose my grip as my eyes become wide with shock. Doing what he says anyway, I kneel down on the soft white rug on the floor on all fours. I feel him position himself behind me, placing the tip of his dick just at the edge of my opening. He pulls it away and I whimper, making him chuckle.
“Are you craving me?” he asks, seizing my hair in his hands and yanking my head back. “Answer me, Clove. I said, are you craving me?”
“Y- yes. I’m craving you. I always crave you.”
And then he is filling me completely. I scream at the top of my lungs at the way he brutally slams into me.
“Fuck.” He stills himself inside me. “I love the way you clamp down on my cock the instant I’m inside you. Now, I do believe I said I wanted to fuck my wife, so hang on, baby girl.”
And fuck me he does, his balls slapping mercilessly against my ass. He’s fucking me hard as his entire upper body spoons my back. The grip he has on my sides is almost too painful, but I welcome it and I crave it and I want it.
“Holy fucking shit! Squeeze my dick. Squeeze every fucking drop of come out of my dick.”
His words sound just as ruthless as his fucking is. Everything in my vision turns from white to black to red as he pounds over and over again, until I feel myself building up to explode. Finally, the muscles of my walls clench around him all on their own as my orgasm rips through me and I call out his name. He follows just a few seconds behind, stilling himself as he pours everything he’s got into me. Our breathing still heavy, he releases his grip on my sides and I crumble to the floor with him on top of me.
“God, you’re amazing. And you’re all mine. All mine,” he whispers, panting as we lay on the floor covered in sweat.
“I will always be yours. Always.”
************
All morning long, I have been hiding my nerves by keeping myself busy. While the two of us were getting ready for work, I wandered around the house picking things up, doing this or that. Here at work I had a lot more to occupy my time, but now I’m sitting here at my desk willing my damn phone to ring with a call from Zack. I can’t take any more of this waiting or I am going to drive myself even crazier than I already am.
“I’m calling him,” I murmur.
I peek my head out the door, noticing Turner has the door to his office shut. Usually that indicates he does not want to be disturbed. Good, neither do I. I shut mine and lean my head back against it, taking a deep breath before I swipe the screen on my phone and hit call on Zack’s name.
“Clove,” he answers immediately.
“Hey. Sorry to call. I know it’s still early, but please tell me you are working on things or you have found something out?” I run my hands through my hair with unsteady fingers.
“I’m working on it as we speak. I need a few days, sis. Can you give me that?”
“What choice do I have?”
I regret the words as soon as they spill out of my mouth. “I’m sorry Zack. I know you’re trying to do everything you can to protect me. It’s just, I don’t know what to expect. He’s different in so many ways. Ways I don’t feel comfortable talking to you about.”
“Has he hurt you?” he demands. I wince at his reaction.
“God, no. Not in the way you mean, at least. He may be breaking my heart right now, but he would never lay a hand on me. Ever.”
The silence from the other end of the line doesn’t sit well with me as I begin to pace the floor in front of my desk.
“Zack.”
“I’m still here. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“I know I can, Zack, and I love you for always being there for me. I- I’m just so fucking tense. This is my life we are talking about here.”
My brother growls, barking out orders to someone about hurrying the hell up. I hope whatever he’s yelling about has something to do with my situation.
“Clove, I really have to go. Give me till the end of the week to investigate all of this. I have a hunch and I am going with my gut. I know this is hard for you, I really do, and if you need me at all for anything, day or night, call me and I will be there.”
My brother’s attempts to try and soothe me set me a little at ease. Why do I feel like this is going to be the slowest week of my life?
************
God, I have never wanted a workweek to be over as bad as this one. It has been one thing after another. Clients demanding this or that, saying, ‘No, that can’t be right’ when they look at their monthly financial reports. Every time it happens I have wanted to retort, ‘Yes, it’s right. Your business would have a ton more money if you didn’t spend it on your personal shit.’ Gah, drives me nuts! Thank goodness the weekend is finally here and the week from hell is over.
Turner has washed away all doubts in my mind about his infidelity. I finally got the nerve to ask him about the strange things I have noticed since his return. He explained about the cigar bar and how several of the guys went there one night after the conference. He says that he stayed for one drink and then left.
As we eased into our conversation, I quizzed him about his sexual behavior. He plunged into a long story about how several of the guys were talking about their sex lives. At first I was like, what? Guys actually do that? I thought only us girls talked about that kind of stuff.
“Did you tell them about ours?” I immediately asked.
“Hell, no,” he said. “I don’t want any other man having visions of my beautiful wife.”
For my part, I made it clear that I loved sweet, kind, and even rough sex, as long as it was with him. I told him I would do anything he asked me to do if he wanted to try new things. He wasted no time listing all the things he wanted to do to me, and God, I just want to be done here and get started on all of them.
Last night was the best night’s sleep I have had since he returned home. We made love slowly and it felt just as good as when he took me hard and fast. I should never have mistrusted him in the first place. Turner loves me, and for me to doubt that love is a feeling that I never want to experience again.
Zack and I have talked briefly a few times on the phone since that awful dinner. Even after I told him my insecurities were entirely erased, he still insisted on checking things out just to put his own mind at ease. I’m okay with that if it’s going to make Zack happy and remove all his suspicions as well.
Both Turner and I have been cooped up in our offices all day every day, documenting financial transactions and summarizing several of our clients’ financial statuses. I’m exhausted.
Turner being gone last week has put us behind with a few of our accounts. Now that the end of the week is here, I feel like I can breathe again as I e-mail the last of my reports to a client.
I look at the clock and realize I still have an hour left. Turner is on a conference call, therefore I can’t ask him if he wants to skip out a little early and get to the bar for happy hour. Reaching for my phone, I decide to kick back and relax and maybe download some new songs. I plug in my phone to keep it charged and start listening to some music as I browse through the new selections.
“Clove?”
I jump, catching sight of Zack out of my peripheral vision.
“Christ, you scared the shit out of me!”
I sit back in my chair with a smile on my face, placing my hand over my heart as I slump back in my seat. I laugh, finding the situation funny. Pulling my ear buds out, I watch my brother as he strolls in and sits across from me at my desk. But he’s not laughing or smiling.
“There’s something wrong,” I say in a strangled voice.
“Yeah, there is.”
“Is . . .?”
I start crying and can’t seem to get any words to come out. My chest starts heaving and I hold onto the edge of my desk, my knuckles snow white from my tight grip.
“Is he cheating on me?”
“It’s worse. Much worse.”
The way he looks at me tells me whatever his news is, it’s going to rip me to shreds.
“Wha-what is it?” I can barely choke the words out.
“Remember the bachelor and bachelorette parties we threw for you and Turner when you got married?”
“Yeah.” My eyebrows knit together. Where is he going with this?
“You remember how all of us guys went to a bar and a chick tried hitting on Turner? He got up to go to the bathroom and the chick followed him in, but the chick wasn’t really a chick?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, it seems Turner doesn’t. When I was talking with him and joking with him about it, he said something that didn’t make any sense. He said, ‘that chick was hot. I’d never cheat on your sister, but if I were single I definitely would’ve done her.’ ”
“What?”
“Exactly. How would he forget something like that? It’s not possible.”
Neither of us says anything for a few drawn-out seconds.
“I am confused, Zack. Where are you going with all of this?”
“I ran his prints.”
“You . . . you ran his finger prints? But why?”
Zack leans in and the look he gives me has me suddenly standing up from out of my chair.
“I suspected something wasn’t right from that moment on. That’s why I ran his prints. There is no way in hell he wouldn’t have remembered that she wasn’t a chick.”
We stare at each other for an eternity as I grasp the implications all at once. Zack’s face drops and he is up out of his seat in no time at all, catching me as my legs give out beneath me.
“Jesus Christ, no!” I wail, shaking my head back and forth.
“He’s not your husband. The man you brought home from the airport is Turner’s identical twin brother, Trent Calloway.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Zack? Turner doesn’t have a twin brother. He doesn’t have any siblings at all!”
“I hate to tell you this, but it’s true. We were able to track down a birth certificate for this fucker with the information we had. He is definitely Turner’s twin.”
“But . . . why didn’t he ever tell me? He’s never mentioned, not once, that he had a brother, much less an identical twin! And his mother! In all this time she has never talked about another son or even said she has had other children. I- I don’t understand this at all. Turner has never lied to me before, ever.”
How many more secrets and lies are waiting to be uncovered in this whole mess? It was bad enough when I thought my husband was cheating on me, but this? Then, like a ton of fucking bricks, it finally hits me that the man I have been sleeping with for the last week is not my husband, but his brother. His identical twin brother. I feel sick as my stomach starts twisting and churning.
“W- Where’s Turner?” I whisper in horror.
“I have no fucking idea at this point, but I am sure as hell going to find out. Who the fuck is this guy and what does he want?”
His face turns stoic and I can’t breathe with all of this shit running through my head.
“Oh, my God. Zack. Where in the hell is my husband? We have to find him!”
“Clove.” Zack shakes me, gripping my shoulder tightly. “Listen to me.”
He gently coaxes me back down in my chair.
“Look, I cannot imagine how you’re feeling right now, but you need to pull yourself together and listen to me. Can you do that?”
I can’t even answer him. My body goes into full force shock. I feel myself trembling as the room spins around me.
“What the hell am I going to do, Zack?”
My lips begin to quiver and tears start to slip down my cheeks. The look on my brother’s face is full of pain and anger.
“You’ve got to help me find my husband, Zack.”
“We’re going to find him, sis,” he says, kneeling down next to me. “But I can’t do this without your help.”
“My help? What do you need me to do?”
“Damn it!”
He gets up and starts pacing the floor.
“It’s going to kill you to do this, but you have to leave him. There is no way in hell I am allowing you to stay with some psychopath. I want you the hell out of there, NOW.” His entire body shakes as he pleads with me. “I don’t have any more answers right now.”
My body has gone into a complete state of denial. How could this be happening to Turner and me? Our lives were perfect.
“I should have gone with him like he wanted me to,” I sob, nearly losing my ability to speak, straining to even get those few words out as a lump too hard to swallow forms in my throat.
“No. Don’t say that. This is not your fault, you hear me? Something tells me this would have happened one way or another, and until we find some answers, I need to know you’re safe. The safest place for you to be right now is at my house.”
The expression on my brother’s face is killing me. He’s worried and hurting as badly as I am. And now I am about to hurt him even more.
“Do you know exactly what this means, Zack? If I leave him not knowing where Turner is, will he kill him when I’m gone? I can’t do it. I refuse to leave and walk around wondering what might happen,” I say adamantly through the tears streaming down my face . . . tears for Turner, tears for my brother, tears for myself.
“I don’t know if I can handle you being there. You know nothing about him or his motives. Do I have to beg you to get you to do it?”
“You can beg all you want, I won’t, and I can’t do it. I love Turner too much to not try and help find him. You have to understand that Zack, please don’t fight me on this.”
I wring my hands in my lap, silently begging my brother to let me stay and figure out why Trent Calloway has taken over my husband’s life.
“Fucking hell!” Zack hisses, running his hands through his hair before looking me right in the eyes.
“Fine. As much as I hate the idea, if you can muster up enough strength to help do this job, it might be our only chance to find out where Turner is. Are you prepared to act as if you know absolutely nothing? And the idea of him even touching . . . Son of a bitch! I can’t even get my mind to go there. You’re my sister. My job as your brother is to protect you, keep you safe. I can’t do that while you’re living in your house with that cocksucker. Do you know how hard it is for me not to grab that fucking piece of shit by his balls right now and drag his ass off to jail so I can beat the fuck out of him until he tells me where Turner is? Do you?” he shouts.
“Zack, I can only imagine how hard this is for you. I need you to imagine how hard it is for me and to put yourself in my shoes.”
He throws me a dark look as he continues raking his hands through his hair.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to get Turner back, no matter what it is I have to do,” I say defiantly.
Even if that means beating Trent Calloway at his own game.