When the Heart Lies Page 15

  “He’d love to hear from you.”

  She bit her lower lip in contemplation and sighed again, this time not so happily. “Getting involved would be unfair to him right now, but who knows about the future. I like him and you a lot. We should stay in touch.” She meant it sincerely. The turn in the conversation was getting her down.

  “Well, I should get going now. Jackson’s picking me up. Sure you don’t want to say hello? He would probably fall at my feet if I got you to do that.”

  Her heart jumped a beat at the thought of seeing him. “I can’t.” She caught herself and noticed Scar’s quizzical eye. “I mean… I shouldn’t.”

  “Well, I’m glad I ran into you. You have my number. Give me a call. Okay? And if you ever want Jackson’s number…” She shrugged, headed out, and waited in front for Jackson.

  As soon as Scar left, Kinsley covertly kept a lookout for Jackson to pull up. When he did, he was already looking into the window. They locked eyes. There were no grins, no winks, only sadness. They continued to look at each other until Scar settled into her seat and put on her seat belt. He pulled off after blowing her a kiss from his hand. The image so vivid, the kiss so desired—she nearly lifted her hand to catch it. She felt like they were dragging her heart off with them. Why? I barely know him.

  She sat for a while before going back to her writing.

  ~ ~ ~

  Not wanting Scar to see his reaction to seeing Kinsley, Jackson kept his eyes straight ahead as he drove from the café. He should have gone in. When he saw her sitting there alone, watching for him, he knew he should have gone to her. Even now, he had an itch to turn back. But he knew better than to corner her. “So… how’d it go?”

  “Awkward at first, she seemed hesitant about talking. I didn’t see anything physical to indicate trouble, and I came right out and asked her why she stayed. She said it was complicated.”

  He continued to stare straight ahead. “She didn’t say why? Did she say anything else?”

  “I asked her about Nick, if she was going back to him.” Scar waited for a response.

  His gaze stayed forward. He didn’t answer back until he could no longer contain the breath he held and pushed it out to suck another in. “Yeah. And?”

  “She said she was thinking of sending Max back.”

  “Oh? Something must be wrong. She wouldn’t send Max back without being with him. I don’t think so anyway. I’m going to visit her friend, Veda, tomorrow. Maybe I can think of some way to pay Wayde a visit, too.” He was getting impatient and reminded himself to remain cautious. If he approached Wayde, he would need a good reason.

  “We started talking about love, soul mates, and stuff.”

  “Wow. All that over coffee?” He shook his head and chuckled. “And? What did she say?”

  “She kinda started going around in circles. She said she didn’t think Nick was her soul mate. Then she said something that made me think she might be referring you.” She stopped and stared over at him.

  He finally looked at her, breaking the monotone he’d been speaking in. “Well, hell Scar…are you going to tell me or not?”

  “She said she thought she missed the soul mate bus.”

  He turned away, staring out at the road again. A twinge of elation, then a quick deflation struck him. Xavier’s words echoed in his head. “A woman like Kinsley is easy to get attached to ... She’s family, Jackson.”

  “Oh yeah, and she said you were…skillful.”

  “Skillful?” He leaned in, and turned on the radio. Concealing a self-satisfied smile.

  ~ ~ ~

  As Kinsley fixed dinner, the afternoon news hummed in the background amid Wayde’s moaning and grumbling to himself about the stories. She decided to talk to him again about calling Nick. Tonight, after Max went to bed would be a good time. She reminded herself to be on her best behavior until then. She needed to kid a kidder. Wayde always said she was a drama queen; now she’d find out if he was right.

  Savannah, still in her bathrobe, shuffled into the kitchen smelling like a bar room and fruity perfume. Her face was smeared with make-up from the night before.

  Kinsley figured she might as well raise the curtain and get the show started. “How’d you sleep? Are you going to eat some supper with us?”

  Savannah’s upper lip pulled to the side as she looked at her with disdain; then she yawned, stretching her arms out toward the ceiling. “What are you so cheery about?”

  Wayde came in and took his throne. She hoped he’d fallen for her lie about wanting Max to leave so they could become closer.

  “Well, Wayde and I talked today. We’ve decided to try to work things out. Right, Wayde? Would either of you like some coffee?”

  “Yeah,” they said in unison.

  Wayde glared at her pensively, his eyes slithering up and down her body like a snake assessing danger. “Now, that’s what I like. Come over here, darlin’. Gimme a kiss.”

  She went to the table and poured their coffee. As she did, he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her sideways into him.

  “I told you to give me a kiss.”

  Trying not to look into his eyes, she leaned over and gave him a kiss.

  His hand clasped the back of her neck; she tried to pull away, but he kept her head close to his face. Unblinking, he searched her eyes. “You know better than to fuck with me—doncha?”

  She leaned down smiling, gave him a quick peck, and pictured herself giving her Oscar speech for the winning performance. As she turned to replace the coffee pot, he slapped her ass while making a hissing sound.

  “That’s my girl.”

  She ignored him and called to Max. “Time for supper.”

  Fork fisted, Wayde pile drove into his mashed potatoes. Swallowing them down, he turned to Savannah. “Remy coming over tonight?”

  “Said he was.”

  ~ ~ ~

  When Nick pulled up to his parents’ house, he noticed Xavier’s car in the driveway. After a deep breath and a long exhalation, he parked and entered through the side door leading to the kitchen. Angela stood wiping the already clean granite in a circular motion. “Your father’s having lunch with us today. I think he wants to talk.”

  After acknowledging her statement with a brief lift of his chin, he grabbed the sports section of the morning paper and gave her a kiss on her cheek. Angela had created a home that revolved around habit and formality, and he naturally went to sit in his unofficial, assigned seat.

  Xavier clasped a hand on Nick’s shoulder as he entered the kitchen and sat in the seat next to him. “So, what brings you over today, Nick?” He poured himself some coffee from the carafe as he listened for a response.

  Nick’s head remained behind the newspaper. “Visiting with mom. Good to catch you here, too.”

  Angela entered with soup and sandwiches, served them, and then sat picking at her food as Xavier and Nick began eating and talking.

  “Nick, I’m simply going to come out and ask,” Xavier said. “What’s going on in your head about Kinsley and Max?”

  Nick became quiet and studied his food while he fingered the rim of this water glass. His relaxed disposition visibly changed as his lips bunched and pulled tensely. “I want Max home. Now.”

  “Any thoughts on Kinsley?”

  Angela began to answer for him. “I think he’s done talking. Enough about Kinsley.”

  Xavier raised his hand for her to stop.

  “I have a lot of thoughts about Kinsley, but I agree with Mom. I can’t keep waiting forever. Obviously, she doesn’t want to come back. Maybe taking Max will wake her up and get her back home where she belongs.” He dropped his head to the side, avoiding Xavier’s critical eye.

  Xavier became quiet, stopped eating, and placed his napkin on the table.

  Angela hurried to add in. “Your right, Ni …”

  Xavier cast his eyes on her, effectively shutting her up. “Well, if that happens, it has to be handled delicately, and only if it’s in his best interest
. I don’t think either of us wants Kinsley hurt. If your reason for wanting him home is to bully her into coming back, it’s not in his best interest.”

  Nick looked up from his food. “What about me? It’s okay if I’m hurt? She’s caused this, not me.”

  Xavier laughed. “That’s a convenient way to look at it.”

  They didn’t have much more to say to each other. They continued with their meal, focusing on business and social affairs. After a while, they finished up, and Xavier turned to Angela.

  “Angela, thank you for lunch. Would you mind letting me speak to Nick alone for a moment?”

  “Of course not.” She got up, cleared their plates, and hurried from the room.

  “So Nick, how’s Mia been? Have you seen her lately?”

  Nick looked up, not unlike a kid who had been caught stealing candy. “No, I haven’t. Not since dinner at the club. Why?” He’d never been a good liar.

  “Just wondering.” Appearing disappointed, Xavier got up from the table to leave, but quickly turned back to Nick. “What the hell! Enough with the lies. What are you thinking? Mia’s a close family friend. Did Kinsley find out about this?”

  “No.” He weakened under Xavier’s glare. “I don’t think so.”

  Xavier turned his back to Nick and then turned back to face him again, lifting his hands questioningly into the air. “Do you love Kinsley?”

  Nick’s brows scrunched with hostility. “Yes. She’s my wife, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Then I suggest you start acting like a husband.”

  Chapter 12

  Kinsley tucked Max in with stories, kisses, and hugs. Then she watched him as he fell asleep. Once he was soundly sleeping, she went into the bedroom, locked the door behind her, and reached under the dresser for the bottle she’d taped there. She hadn’t taken any of the pills the doctor had prescribed. There were ninety. A month’s supply or a lethal dose. Lying down on the bed, she held them in her hand, near her heart. She’d leave there, and she didn’t care how. What if Wayde finds them? She jumped up.

  In a hurry, she opened a drawer, grabbed one of her socks, and spilled half the pills into it. She stuffed the sock into the pocket of her jacket that was hanging in the closet and re-taped the remainder of the bottle to the underside of the dresser. Max had to be safely home with Nick before she attempted anything.

  After three deep breaths, she opened the bedroom door, put on a smile, and walked into the kitchen. “Whew, took a while to get him to sleep tonight. Thank God he sleeps through anything. I’m taking some coffee out onto the porch to get a little fresh air. Would you like to join me Wayde?” If she didn’t invite him, he’d think she was trying to avoid him and would refuse to let her go. Remy would be there soon, and Wayde would expect her to sit there with them. She hoped to slip away alone for a little while until he forced her to socialize.

  “Nah, you go ahead, but when Remy comes, I’m gonna want some company.”

  “I guess we aren’t company enough for you,” Savannah said, returning to filing her nails.

  Kinsley smiled sheepishly in Wayde’s direction, went to the porch, sat in the wobbly, plastic chair, and sipped her coffee. While breathing in the fragrant aroma of the orange trees, she allowed herself the luxury of imagining Jackson’s eyes burning into her and the sensation of his lips as they met hers. She smiled, picturing his head sailing back with laughter after hearing her comment about being a ‘ticket taker in Hell.’ And she nearly laughed aloud at the image of him ducking as her hairbrush flew by him. Memories deepened as she relived the kiss that turned her into goo. However, before long, her smile faded away. She couldn’t do this. She had obligations.

  Remy pulled in and came onto the porch. He stopped directly in front of her and stood tall as he stared at her vulgarly.

  “Savannah told me you were being all cheery today.” He scoffed at her. “What’s up your sleeve? You may fool them, but you ain’t never gonna get one past me.” He gave her the evil eye, flicked her chin up with his finger, and walked into the kitchen. The three sat talking for a while, and eventually Wayde called her in.

  “You want to play cards with us?” he asked. “Have a drink?”

  “I’ll watch. A drink sounds good though.” A couple of drinks to get through the next few hours sounded about right. She kept her mind busy, thinking of scenes she would write the next day. As they played, she would occasionally infiltrate the conversation to appear sociable. When Wayde’s glass emptied, she encouraged his drunkenness by pouring at once. If he drank enough, he didn’t bother her too much when bedtime came.

  He put up his hand to stop her when she went to pour his next drink. “I don’t want any more of that shit. I got business to take care of tonight.” He tilted his head, grinned, and licked his lips.

  ~ ~ ~

  As Jackson readied himself to go to Olivia’s, he made a list of the next few steps he’d take with the case. Top of the list was to go over to Veda’s tomorrow and find out what she knew. The audio still wasn’t giving him any information; if anything, it sounded like Kinsley submitted without complaint. Short of busting in the house, he wasn’t going to find out jack tonight, so he got ready to go and gave Olivia a call before he left.

  “Olivia? Jackson. Did you give my sub all the information he needs to watch Wayde’s house tonight?”

  “Hello to you, too.”

  “You told him to stay somewhere where he can see the house?”

  Her frustrated sigh came through the phone. “The sub’s name is Percy. I told him everything you told me to, Jackson. She’ll be fine. Nothing has ever happened there. I don’t know why Xavier’s even having video put in. I doubt you’re going to be on the case much longer. He called me today and said Nick wants to get Max home soon.”

  With the phone to his ear, he stretched his elbow above him, resting his weight against the doorjamb. He dropped his head, shaking it. “Did he actually say the case would end when Max got home? That would be surprising since he seems so concerned about Kinsley.” His free hand swiped through his hair in frustration, and his eyes closed briefly. They had to, for the large breath he was holding to escape. He slammed his fist against the doorjamb, and his tone became harsh. “This has to be one of the most maddening cases I’ve ever worked on! I’ll be there in a few. I have to stop by the store and get a couple things.”

  When he arrived at Olivia’s, the lights were low, the candles lit, and the music slow. Olivia leaned into him and attempted to kiss him before the door closed. He backed his head away and gave her only a look. She backed off. He glanced around the room. He had always been honest with her about where they stood. She wasn’t very quick on the uptake.

  His thumb slid up the center of his chest as he expelled a soft grunt, which was a habit of his when he was uncomfortable with a situation. “Looks like you went to a lot of trouble. The place looks great. You shouldn’t have.” You really shouldn’t have.

  “So when do we get the video in?” he asked.

  “Monday. I’m sending someone over when Wayde and Kinsley go to the café. Possibly a phony gas leak to inspect. That’ll get the stripper out. Hopefully, things will go as planned.”

  They talked for a long time about the case. As the night went on, Olivia seemed to be getting the message he wasn’t interested and began behaving more like the friend he’d known before their affair. They drank a lot, and he took the couch. He hadn’t planned on staying, but he’d needed the reprieve after being cooped up in the motel.

  ~ ~ ~

  The most dreaded part of Kinsley’s day arrived. Bedtime. She checked on Max and got ready for bed. When she went into the bedroom, Wayde was sitting on the bed. His ogling eyes were like a noonday sun that blistered her skin from having lingered too long.

  “Today wasn’t bad,” he said. “Could be that way all the time. Me good to you, you good to me.”

  “Ah huh.” She heard herself say without comprehending. She had tunnel vision. All she could see or feel were hi
s eyes leering at her and his perverted grin. Her mind reread the scenes of the last few months as her body relived the touch of his hands.

  Wayde stood up from the bed and went to her. “You gonna give me some love tonight, darlin’?” He tilted his head, moved in close, and began kissing her. She stood like a garden gnome, watchful and aware of everything around her yet unable to take part.

  With every movement of his mouth, her stomach soured. Her fists clenched as she raised them to his shoulders. She resisted the impulse to push him away, knowing what would happen if she did. It wasn’t the fear of him doing again what he’d already done to her. It was the fear of what he was capable of doing if she resisted that scared her. The problem was, as the fear grew, the adrenaline running through her took over and wiped away every thought, replacing them with anger and aggression.

  He grabbed at her breast. She closed her eyes and tried to go somewhere outside herself. But all she sensed was the groping and slobbering that violated her body and her psyche.

  He yanked her hand down and pressed it onto his groin. “Touch me. Make me hard.”

  She wrenched her hand from his grip. He stepped out of his underwear and returned her hand to his flaccid dick. She imagined squeezing the floppy thing until it popped like a nasty zit. She was gone from him.

  He grabbed hold of her wrist with force. “Damn! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Unaware she was squeezing him, his grip brought her back to reality.

  “Be careful. Git on your knees an’ blow me.” He put his hand on her shoulder, pushing her downward.

  She resisted. Her anger swallowed her voice. “I … I can’t.”

  “Like hell you can’t.” He pushed down on her shoulder again. She wouldn’t budge. He twisted and bent down fast, reaching under the bed. When he swiveled back, he held a handgun to her belly. “Now. Tell me what you can’t do.”