Текст книги "Contrite"
Автор книги: Kathy Coopmans
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 15 страниц)
Chapter Nine
Pale with desolation, I stand there trapped as his hands roam freely, his fingers tweaking my nipples. I am beyond pissed at him. Turner would never disrespect me in that way and snatch my phone from my hands. This is only further proof of how different Trent is from my husband. What a fucking pig. Nudging him away from me, I move past him and head up the stairs knowing there is no hope of being able to talk to my brother now.
Does Trent suspect that I know? No. How could he? Or, maybe he does and that is why he snatched the phone from me. It’s strange because this man has done his homework. He knows full well that Zack is a detective, yet he still took over my husband’s identity.
I enter my room and throw myself on my bed. Trent follows soon after in a temper.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Clove?”
“You took the phone right out of my hand, Turner.”
I’m jumpy as hell on the inside but I will not kowtow to this animal. He rakes his hand through his jet-black hair as if frustrated.
“Jesus Christ. I just wanted to see if he wanted to play some basketball tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, then. Did he by chance tell you why he was calling?” I trail off vaguely.
“Yes, he did.” He plops his big body on the bed with a heavy bounce. “I guess your dad is coming over tomorrow night for dinner, so he was calling to invite us, too.”
His lips part in a good-humored smile. Shit. My dad! How in the hell am I supposed to act normally in front of my dad? This is driving me insane and not being able to talk to Zack until tomorrow is making it worse.
I loathe this man lying here on my marital bed . . . the bed where I willingly let him take me. The fact that I loved it makes me just as sick and fucked up as he is.
This is wrong, so damn wrong. I am sitting here playing house with a monster. I have to find a way to be able to talk to my brother or the only way I am going to be able to sleep tonight is to drink a hell of a lot more wine than I have in this house.
Fucking prick, I think to myself as I smile back.
“Didn’t mean to upset you, babe. Now, come on. I’ll give in and sit through one of your stupid chick flicks if you forgive me.”
He looks at me with childlike eyes and on the inside I am laughing my damn ass off. If he really was Turner then he would know that I am not a chick flick kind of girl. I am a horror movie girl. I’ll humor him, though.
“I’m not in the mood for a chick flick tonight. How about we find the scariest movie we can find and watch that instead?” I lift my brows in challenge.
“Let’s go, then.” He climbs off the bed. “I’ll even be a nice husband and let you pick it out.” His voice trails behind him as he goes down the stairs.
You do that, asshole, because while I am sitting there watching it, I am going to pretend it’s me who shoots you through your black fucking soul in the end.
************
I feel nauseated and my head is pounding. I am damn near parched to death as I lay here at eleven o’clock in the damn morning. Rolling over to my side and noticing the empty spot next to me, tears prick my eyes when I think about the fact that I have slept another night without Turner.
I miss him so much. Wanting him back here with me, I let the tears fall silently. I deserve this pain I am feeling and so much more. Curling myself up in a tight ball, I cry helplessly for the man I love. My head is hurting so bad from the wine I consumed last night, but my heart hurts even more.
“Please come back to me safely,” I plead as I rub the side of the bed where he usually sleeps. “I don’t want to live my life without you, but I will as long as I know you’re alive and well.”
I’m so afraid that something has happened to him and he is never going to come back.
Making up my mind to crawl out of bed, I fling the covers off and notice that I am completely naked. I never sleep naked. My stomach rolls at the fact that Trent must have brought me to bed because the last thing I remember was passing out at the very end of the movie.
“Shit,” I mumble.
Why do you even care if he saw you naked, you filthy slut? You slept with him knowing he isn’t your husband and you loved it!
Despite the fact that my head is pounding, I jump out of bed and make a mad dash for the bathroom. Landing on my knees in front of the toilet, I vomit everything in my stomach and gag with the dry heaves even after nothing else comes up.
I shake, beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I lay my head on the tile floor and thank God Trent is gone playing basketball so he doesn’t see me falling apart like this. My brother has got to be climbing out of his damn skin knowing he is playing ball with a colossal fake.
Right then it hits me.
He’s gone.
I jump up quickly and have to steady myself as a wave of dizziness hits me full force. Once I feel somewhat normal, I lift my head and look at myself in the mirror. What a fucking mess. I can’t even stand to look at myself. So, I don’t. I turn the water on and once it is hot enough for me to stand under, I get my hair washed and my body scrubbed clean in less than ten minutes.
I need to hurry. I have no clue what time he is going to be back, so I grab all my clothes and dress in a rush. I head into Turner’s closet in hopes of finding some sort of clue without Trent noticing I was in here. After several minutes of looking through every possible thing I can find, I come up empty handed. I make sure everything is back the way I found it and head toward the dresser and rummage through everything there, too.
I keep searching the entire bedroom. Nothing. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I try to think. If I wanted to hide something from someone in here, where would I put it? My eyes desperately scan the room and then suddenly stop at the picture of Turner and me on top of my dresser. Something draws me to it, my feet moving of their own accord. I brush my hand over Turner’s face before I pick it up and turn it over. When I lift the hinges on the back, I smirk when I see a small folded up piece of paper lying against the picture.
My hands tremble as I pick it up and set the frame back down on the dresser. Opening it as fast as I can, I am shocked when I see a picture placed neatly inside. It’s old and faded, and yet I can still make out that it’s a family photo. Melody is sitting on a bench holding one of the twins while a man who I have never seen before is holding the other.
Studying the man’s features, I know he must be Turner’s father as his features are so similar to both of the twins’; black hair, chiseled nose, and that very prominent square chin. Turner and Trent look so much alike I cannot tell them apart. I stare at the man who helped bring my husband into this world and wonder what he and Trent are doing and what they seem to think they will gain by destroying Turner’s life.
I set the photo down on the dresser and open the piece of paper and right there in black ink is an address and phone number that I would recognize anywhere– they’re Melody’s. The ten million dollar question is; what is Trent doing with it, and why?
After running down to the kitchen and grabbing my phone off the charger, I sprint back up the stairs and take a screenshot of the family photo and then make sure to put everything back in its proper place. I go about making the bed and brushing my teeth and applying as much makeup as I can to my face to hide the dark circles under my eyes without going overboard
Just as I am finishing up with blow-drying my hair, I hear the front door slam shut and Trent jogging up the stairs. Taking a deep, calming breath, I stroll out of the bathroom and into the bedroom just as he enters.
“How was basketball?”
I pour on the kindness.
“It was all right. Forgot how good your brother actually is, though. He kicked my ass.”
Shrugging off his drenched t-shirt and tossing it onto the floor, he comes further into the bathroom.
“He always kicks your ass. Did you forget he played ball in college?”
“No. I didn’t forget.” He slips off his shorts and tosses them onto the floor, too.
I force my gaze away from him because the sight of him makes me sick. He steps into the shower to turn it on and I wait a few minutes to make sure he’s under the spray before I speak again.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
“Starving but your brother said to stop over any time we want to so I don’t want to eat too much.”
“Okay.”
I close the door behind me and with my phone in my hand I have Zack’s number dialed and the phone pressed to my ear before I even hit the bottom of the stairs.
“Thank Christ,” he answers.
“Zack. I don’t have much time and I need to know what you found out yesterday?”
“Clove. First off, you have no idea how much I wanted to wrap my hands around that piece of scum’s neck and squeeze every last ounce of his breath out of him this morning. Fucker talks to me last night and this morning like he’s my best fucking friend.”
“I know exactly how you feel. I am living with him, remember? Now please give me something. Anything to help me ease my mind.”
His sudden silence is intolerably irksome.
“Zack?”
“I’m here, Clove. I need to tell you everything and I won’t do it over the phone.”
“Zack. I am hanging by a thread, here. God, do you know what I let him do to me yesterday? Do you have any idea what this is doing to me at all?” I have never had to beg my brother for anything in my entire life, but I do now. “Please, Zack?”
“I’m sorry. I just, I am trying to do this with my head and not my heart, trying to treat this just like every other missing person’s case and not my brother-in-law. I am doing this the way I was taught. It’s the only way I can do it, Clove. Shove my personal feelings aside and do my job. By the way, Melody was just as shocked as you were when I told her everything, but one thing I can tell you is that she believes it’s their father who is orchestrating this entire thing.”
“I know that already. I overheard Trent talking to their dad yesterday. Is Melody all right?”
My heart flutters with terror for what my mother-in-law must be going through.
“Hell, no. She’s not all right. And what the hell did you hear him to say his dad? Fuck, this is an investigation, Clove. When you find something out, you need to call and tell me this shit.”
How dare my brother talk all pissy like this to me?
“I was going to tell you about it, I just never got the chance and you know it.”
“Shit, sis. I’m sorry. Just, from now on if you suspect anything at all, please find a way to let me know. Okay?”
“Okay,” I cry.
“Now look, there is so much that I have to tell you. Somehow we have to sneak off tonight. That was why when Trent answered the phone last night I said I was calling to have you two over for dinner. Dad really was planning on coming over, anyway.”
“That’s another thing. It’s going to be very hard to convince dad that I am doing fine. You know he can smell a lie a mile away.”
My heart breaks even more thinking about how my dad is going to feel when he finds out the truth.
“We’ll figure something out together.”
I hear the shower turn off and move to the fridge to get everything out to make a sandwich.
“Zack, I have to go. He’s coming.”
“Be safe, and get over here as soon as you can. I love you.”
“Love you, too. Bye.”
Hanging up the phone and deleting the last call, I set it back on the counter and make a turkey and cheese on rye sandwich. Turner hates rye bread so let’s see if dear ole Trent hates it too.
I grab a handful of chips that I pull out of the pantry and set it on the table along with the half of a sandwich I made for myself.
“Thanks.” Trent sits down at the table next to me a few minutes later and takes a giant bite of his sandwich.
“This is so good. I had no idea how hungry I actually was until I stood underneath the shower.”
He takes another bite and finishes it off before I even have two bites gone from mine.
“Glad you liked it,” I say with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.
He may have done his homework, but he sure as hell didn’t do it right. You fucking failed, asshole. He doesn’t even seem to notice as he gets up from the table and places his dishes in the sink.
“You were out cold last night,” he says, wrapping his arms around my neck from behind and kissing the side of my temple.
“I know. It must have been all that wine.”
He releases his hold and I continue to stare forward, feeling as if I am barely breathing at this point as he stands behind me. Tilting my neck back so I can see him, he looks down at me with eyes so potent and full of lust and want.
“Turn around, babe,” he commands, his voice low and gravelly.
What is he going to do? He couldn’t have heard me on the phone. No. He wants something, I can tell by the look in his eyes. Oh my God. He’s on a sexual mission to destroy me and here I am incapable of doing anything to stop him.
I keep repeating over and over in my head that I am doing this out of love for my husband, and I am. But when Trent looks at me like that . . . how can I truly be doing this out of love for one man when I allow another to bring me pleasure?
He must think I am taking too long, because he bends down and lifts the chair on his own. Before I know it, I am facing him and staring directly at the thick, hard bulge right in front of my face. Kneeling before me so his face is even with mine, he guides himself between my legs. I have no choice but to spread them, making room for his large frame.
“You are so flawless. I could look at you all day, Clove.”
When I look into his eyes, something tells me that he truly believes what he is saying as he takes in my face and moves his gaze down my neck.
“I need to taste you so bad right now, Clove. I’m fucking craving that sweet pussy right now.”
He’s on his knees now as he positions himself exactly the way he wants and runs his hands up and down my legs, pushing my dress higher and higher as he goes until it’s bunched up and my white lace thong is showing. Until now, he hasn’t taken his eyes off my face this entire time, but when he sees what he says he is craving, his tongue darts out and he licks his lips as he puts his hands under my ass and pulls me forward in the chair.
My hands instantly go to the wooden arms of the chair to support myself.
“Hang on tight, babe. I am not messing around right now. I am going to fuck this pussy with my fingers and my mouth and just when you think you have had enough, I am going to dive right back in for more.” He rips my thong off and drops it to the floor. “As far as I am concerned, this is the most important meal of my fucking day.”
Lowering his head to within an inch of my core, he takes a deep breath and blows softly, sending a thrill of excitement through my nerves that starts there and shoots all the way to my brain. Everything goes blurry and numb. When he takes his first long, slow lick, I squirm in the chair. With his hands tightening even more on my ass, he grins satisfactorily and nips at my clit with his teeth. He keeps it up until I lay my head back and clench the sides of the chair tightly.
I can’t get the image of what this man is doing to me out of my head and escape my shame. And no matter how hard I try to not give him the satisfaction of knowing his talented mouth is bringing me pleasure, I can’t.
It’s building and building and then I scream and curse and twitch and I hardly even recognize my own name when he calls it out as I climax all over his face. But I don’t allow myself to look at him when his mouth leaves my pussy. I keep my head titled back and my eyes closed, trying to catch my breath.
“You’re so fucking hot sitting there completely vulnerable and so damn sexy. I love you, Clove.” He chuckles and leans over me so I have to open my eyes.
“I love you too, Turner,” I say in a stupefied voice.
He stares at me for a very long time before he stands up straight. I follow him with my gaze.
“I have a little business to take care of in the office before we go,” he says as he turns and walks away from me.
“Anything I can help with?”
“No, I got it. It should only take a few hours and then we can head over to your brother’s house. Holler at me if you need me,” he calls out as he heads down the hall and shuts the door to my husband’s office.
He thinks I have no damn clue what the hell is going on. I hope he’s so fucking hard his balls fall off. He’s infuriating as hell. He eats me out like he has to have it and then turns around and goes into Turner’s office to do God knows what. As for me, I am no better than he is as I sit here and look at myself. I hate myself and I hate whatever the fuck is going on here.
I finally stand up and walk into the half bathroom off of the kitchen and clean myself up. Then I head down to the laundry room and get a clean pair of panties out of the dryer to put on. Without even giving it a second thought, I snatch my phone and keys off of the counter and get in my car. I’m all set to leave, that is, until I look behind me and see my mother-in-law pulling in the driveway.
Chapter Ten
“Melody. What in the hell are you doing here?”
Bitterness and betrayal drip from my voice and I can tell she senses it by the way she takes a step back.
“I– I don’t know, Clove.”
Her eyes dart around, looking everywhere except at me.
“You don’t know? For Christ’s sake, Melody. Do you have any idea whatsoever what is happening here? Did Zack not explain everything to you? If Trent sees you out here we may never find Turner. You need to leave now,” I hiss, pointing to her car and indicating for her to get back in and go.
“I’m his mother, too. Maybe, just maybe, I can talk some sense into him; find out where Turner is. Please, I just need to see him. I have lived with this nightmare for twenty-six years not knowing where my son is. I’m his mother.”
Is she shitting me right now? I stick my face inches from hers.
“Listen here, Melody. I know you’re his mother and you’re also my husband’s mother, but that man in there is a damn stranger to all of us. If you care about Turner at all, you will get back in your damn car and leave until you either hear back from Zack or me. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, but you know what? I really don’t give two flying fucks, because as far as I am concerned everything that is happening here is your fault!”
“Look, sweetheart. I know you’re upset-”
“Upset? I am way more than ‘upset.’ I have no idea if my husband is dead or alive and I am sleeping with a fucking stranger who could be a murderer as far as I know, so yeah, Melody. I am fucking upset!”
I am trying to stay as calm as I can and not raise my voice too loud to cause a scene. Part of me feels for what Melody is going through right now. I can tell by her stature and the puffiness in her eyes that she has been crying, and most likely hasn’t slept since hearing the news. But the truth is that I have no sympathy whatsoever for the woman standing in front of me.
“You haven’t talked to your brother, have you?”
I hear the rawness in her voice and I know this has to be a shock to her, but until I know exactly what is going on here and why, I need her to leave.
“Not in depth,” I say briskly, “So I have no clue what is happening. Now excuse me for being so blunt, but I don’t give a shit how you feel. The sight of you right now makes me sick, Melody. I have no clue where my husband is . . . the man you raised. He’s the one we need to be concerned about right now, not that man inside my house. Now leave, and you’d better hope like fucking hell that my Turner . . .” My voice cracks and I start to shed unwanted tears. “My Turner is okay, because so help me God, if he’s not there will never be an excuse good enough from you.”
She just stands there in shock while pear-shaped tears rapidly slide down her face. As I watch her climb into her car and back out of my driveway, I realize that what sucks most of all is that I couldn’t bring myself to console her in any way. I just can’t comprehend what reason a mother would have for keeping this kind of secret, but no matter why she has done it, I don’t know if I will ever be able to forgive her.
Most women would envy my relationship with my mother-in-law. She has always been the mother that I never had and I love her more than anything. Acting like a cold-hearted bitch when I was talking to her doesn’t make me feel any better at all.
When I first found out about all this, I wanted to lash out at her in more ways than one. Now, after seeing the look on her face and knowing she is hurting just as badly as I am, I feel terrible for the words I said to her. I simply can’t risk Trent finding out everything yet, not until I know Turner is safe. With her being so unstable and not having seen her other son since he was a toddler, she would most likely ruin everything, no matter what she says.
I make my way back into the house with my head down and walking at a snail’s pace, the tension and fearfulness taking over as I try and reassure myself Trent didn’t see or hear her in the driveway. When I approach the garage my eyes roam everywhere to try and find some sort of weapon to use just in case he is inside and attacks me when I enter.
Finding a wrench in a small red toolbox that Turner keeps in the far back corner of the garage, I creep slowly towards the door leading into the house and turn the handle uneasily. Once inside, I gently close it behind me and peer down the hallway toward the office, noticing the door is still closed.
Needing to make sure he is still in there, I stealthily progress down the hall until I am nearly in front of the door and stop. The sound of what appears to be an e-mail or some other sort of notification on the computer is all I hear, and then fingers fluently tapping away as if they were e-mailing back.
A sigh of relief escapes as I turn and tiptoe like a burglar back into the kitchen while wondering who the hell he is e-mailing. More than likely it’s his dickhead of a father. I could spit nails at that man. Better yet, I could blow both his and his heartless son’s fucking brains out and not give a second thought about it if it would bring Turner back to me safe and unharmed.
Becoming aware that I still have the wrench clasped tightly in my hand, I exit the kitchen and climb the stairs to the bedroom where I place the wrench underneath the mattress on my side of the bed.
Living through what I am right now has my mind drifting back to an earlier conversation with Zack. He told me Turner would not want me to feel the way I am feeling now, and that he would want me safe. I am keeping the wrench right there, and the next time Trent tries to touch me . . . I will use it.
I smooth out the comforter and sit down on the end of the bed facing the window, where the sun is shining through so brightly that the beams glisten from hitting the full-length mirror in the corner. I lift my head and stare at my wedding picture. My thoughts drift to so many memories that the two of us shared. Vacations. Walks where we would hold hands and talk about our future plans, or sometimes even just walk in silence enjoying each other’s company.
Turner and I were just in the beginning stages of talking about having children. We both wanted to wait until we had our feet solidly planted on the ground financially before we brought a child into this world. He was so adamant about me being a stay at home mom that at first we argued about it. But, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to stay home and be the best mom I could be.
Taking our children to soccer practice, swim lessons . . . it didn’t matter what they did. We wanted to be those parents whose child knew how much their mom and dad loved them, and would never feel the emptiness in their hearts of being abandoned as both Turner and I felt when we were growing up. We have both been betrayed by a parent, and now it seems that Turner is being betrayed by both.
“Clove, are you up there?” Trent hollers from the bottom of the stairs.
“Yeah. I’m changing my clothes.”
Pushing myself up from the bed, I go pull out yet another summer sundress from my closet to put on.
“I’m all done and set to go.”
His voice doesn’t sound like he suspects anything, yet I still tremble as I take my dress off and step into the other one and zip it up at the side.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” I call. “Just freshening up a little.”
I assess my appearance in the bathroom mirror. Looking at the reflection staring back at me, I barely recognize myself as I truly take myself in for the first time in a long while. I see confusion, not simplicity. I see dullness and not vibrancy in my eyes. I see a woman who doesn’t even know who she is anymore. I see a scared, bitter, and angry woman all mixed into one.
No, the woman staring back at me is not Clove Calloway, wife of Turner Calloway. The woman staring back at me is someone I don’t recognize at all. A woman who I hate just as much as I hate the man downstairs. I am a sham of a woman, an imposter just like he is, and fuck if I know if I will ever be able to get that vibrant, simplistic woman back ever again.
“Wow. You look breathtaking, babe.”
Trent’s observation of my appearance stops me dead in my tracks when I enter the kitchen. He sounds so sincere and his phrase is exactly like one Turner would use.
“Thank you, big boy,” I reply, doing my best to mask my anger.
His intangible charm does nothing for my sour mood at all. However, I feel all of the strain and pressure leave my body as he seems like he knows nothing about his mother’s short visit. I don’t know if he is playing me for a bigger fool than I already am. He could know, or at least suspect that I know, who he really is and is waiting for the right time to plan his attack and strike.
In a short while I will have to face another parent who knows absolutely nothing about what is going on. I need to think long and hard before we get to my brother’s house about how I am going to make sure it stays that way. Unlike Melody, my dad won’t listen to a word anyone has to say if he finds out. He would come unglued and kill this bastard for what he is doing to this family.
I’m completely stressed out and about ready to hit my breaking point the closer we get to my brother’s house. I try to stay as normal as I possibly can while sitting here listening to Trent carry on a conversation, at this point with himself, as all I am doing is answering with yes, no, and maybe. He pummels me with all sorts of questions which mostly shoot right over the top of my head. All I can think about is being able to somehow get alone with my brother without Trent becoming suspicions or my father wanting to be a part of our conversation.
Pulling onto Zack and Krista’s street and seeing my dad’s car already in the driveway only makes my anxiety flare up even more. We park along the curb in front of their house at which point I plaster on a fake smile and open the car door to get out. Trent does the same on his side and when he rounds the car; I grab his hand just like I would normally do if he were Turner as we make our way up the driveway.
I can do this. I have to do this for the safety of my father. The less people who know about this, the better. Who knows what Trent or his father would do to anyone who gets in the way of whatever they want with us? If anything happened to my dad because of this, I could never forgive myself. I put everything in the back of my mind as we knock briefly then just walk inside.
“There she is!”
My dad is up and off of the couch before we even have the door closed, heading in my direction.
“Hi, Dad.”
He reaches his arms out and embraces me in his warm and safe hug. For a brief moment I feel safe and sound. It doesn’t last long as he tears himself away from me and places his arm around my shoulder while he greets his supposed son-in-law with a handshake. Returning his attention back to me, he scowls. I scowl back.
“What?” I ask, my smile never faltering.
“You look different, somehow.”
“Different? I’m fine, Dad,” I wave him off with my hand.
“You look tired. You’re not getting enough rest, are you?” he asks, worry etched across his face.
“She had a little too much to drink last night, James,” Trent interrupts.
Dad tries to act tough and scold me.
“Girl, I told you that shit isn’t good for you.”
“Oh, is that right? Let me see; is that your glass of bourbon sitting on the table over there?” I tease as I turn and head further into the house where Zack is holding the baby.
“You sassing me, girl?” Dad jokes from behind me.
All of us laugh at that one, knowing very well that one thing you do not do is sass James Wright. Dad was never cruel to us at all when we were growing up, but he did teach us to respect others and to never ever take anything for granted. And I thought I hadn’t, until a few days ago when my life fell apart. Now, standing here looking into the innocent eyes of my nephew, I wonder if I will ever be able to tell Turner that my feelings went from ‘like’ to ‘love’ the first time he kissed me, and that he is the greatest joy in my life.
“Clove.” Zack nudges me with his shoulder. “Snap out of it before Dad really starts to suspect something.”
“Can I hold him, please?”
I’m finding it hard to speak. Even trying to hold a conversation with an adult right now is the last thing I want to do until I get my shit together. Holding and cuddling baby Nolan is exactly what I need to fill my aching heart with love.
I take him from my brother’s arms and he stretches and looks up at me. For the first time in days, my smile is as honest as it’s ever going to get.
He’s so innocent and has no idea what is happening all around him. Not a care in the world. I totally block out all the sounds around me as I stare at him intently, wondering if I will ever have the chance to be a mother.
