To Die for... Truth

FOUR

FOUR

GOING HOME TO CHANGE for her date was a blur. Preoccupied, Tess could only think about the letters and vague business card. That was probably why she’d blurted out their discovery to Patrick.

Seated opposite each other at a table in the window of the bar, she’d held court most of the night. “It just feels like…”

“Your mom was keeping secrets,” Patrick said and shrugged. “Most people do, Tess.”

“I know, but we were close. Why wouldn’t she tell me if there was something I needed to know?”

“Maybe you didn’t need to know. Your mom got a few love letters, you don’t even know what year they were from. They could’ve been written decades ago… or maybe she just found them somewhere and liked the sentiment. You said her name wasn’t in them. Maybe it felt wrong leaving them behind. You moved a lot, right?”

Her shoulders sagged as she sank back in her chair. “I know.”

That possibility had occurred to her too. They couldn’t have new relationships, not lasting ones. Why wouldn’t her mom hold onto the old ones or embrace the fantasy of someone else’s?

“If they were hers, it should feel good that she had someone who cared for her like that.”

In frustration, Tess balled her fists on the table and sat up straight again. “I know. Don’t you think I know that? I just… When did it change? Does that mean she had this whole other life before me? That she…”

Patrick didn’t know her past. No one would understand it. Her mother always dissuaded her from telling any one person too much. During her retelling of the day, of the week, the sensitive details were omitted on purpose. It wasn’t Patrick’s fault that she was tired and frustrated. On hearing of her mother’s death, he’d said all the right things, but he didn’t get it. No one could.

“Maybe they are from before you or maybe she had a relationship while you were a kid or something,” he said, obviously trying to appease her. “You weren’t together twenty-four seven and no one remembers much from when they were super young.”

Maybe. Maybe. Everything was maybe. That wasn’t good enough.

Her anchor was gone. Aimless drifting wasn’t her style. Without her mom, she needed stability, something to lean on. She didn’t know how to be alone. What it was to be completely alone.

Her future alone. Just like her mom’s past… alone. Anne never spoke of parents or siblings, or any other family. She’d assumed that there wasn’t any. What had her mom’s life looked like before becoming “mom”?

When had it changed?

They’d always been on the run. Had her mom’s life always been the same?

Losing her mother was a sucker punch, but that was no excuse for believing they’d always have time. Complacency was to blame. Questions were met with “there isn’t time for that now” while her mom packed or panicked. In her naivety, it was easy to think her mother would get around to telling her everything sometime.

In spite of the mantras, the awareness, the vigilance, Tess hadn’t understood the urgency. She hadn’t grasped how precious life was or how quickly it could be snuffed out. Apparently, neither had her mom.

“You need to relax,” Patrick said, reaching over the table to take her hand. “You’re grieving. I remember when Toby passed, it was such a shock. Took me weeks to come to terms with it.”

Unimpressed, her attention ascended. “Toby was your mom’s dog.”

“Yeah,” he said and shrugged. “But we’d had him since I was a kid. Place just wasn’t the same without him.” Patrick smiled. “You need to relax. Just go crazy. Do something fun and insane… We can go to that club across town, the one with the podiums. We’ll dance the night away.”

Her idea of a nightmare. Picking up her drink, Tess downed the rest of her cocktail. “Thanks, but I… I’m just not in the mood.”

“Trust me,” he said, gathering their empty glasses. “We’ll get another one here and then head over there. Letting loose really makes a difference. It helps you forget for a while and that’s exactly what you need.”

He got up to walk over to the bar, leaving her alone. Tess couldn’t think of anything worse than being in a crush of people, screaming over music trying to be heard. Though forgetting for a while sounded incredible, oblivion wouldn’t be easy to reach. She’d have to do something really nuts or get really drunk. Alcohol didn’t usually make her forget anything. Going overboard with booze wasn’t smart. Her mother had drummed in the importance of keeping her wits.

“Someone always wants to hurt you,” Tess whispered, her focus drifting to the street. “Everyone is a threat. Paranoia keeps us alive.”

Her mother’s mantras seemed ironic now. In the end, Anne had been the one to hurt herself. Not on purpose, sure, but still. Paranoia hadn’t kept her alive. Paranoia probably contributed to her death. If her mom’s concentration had been on the road, maybe she wouldn’t have skidded off.

What Tess really needed was to feel something other than the grinding pressure of unknowns piling up. s*x was the only thing ever capable of taking her out of the moment and erasing her worries… temporarily anyway.

Patrick was still at the bar. They’d met a few weeks ago during one of her nightclub shifts. No doubt the guy was cute, but people insinuating themselves into her life was her mother’s biggest red flag. He was the closest thing to a friend she’d had for a long time. They’d enjoyed a few make out sessions with some heavy petting, but she’d never been tempted to bring him to her bed.

Cute wouldn’t untie her knot of frustration and grief. Friendship wasn’t the remedy either. Patrick was not the definition of going crazy. He was synonymous for vanilla. Okay, so she didn’t want anything kinky, but she did want something… wild. Something completely insane. Being safe wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Anne’s warnings were like tribal drums beating in the back of her brain.

“Be in control,” Tess repeated another of her mother’s mantras. “Never be led. Be the leader.”

Anyone could be a threat, which was why no man had warmed her sheets more than once. Patrick was on the precipice and didn’t know it. Sleeping with him would be a terrible idea. After so many dates, he’d think they were beginning something. In truth, if she talked to a guy, she’d never sleep with him. s*x had to be quick and dirty. Had to be once and never followed up. In short, if they did it, they’d be done. She couldn’t bring herself to cut loose the only other living person who knew her name.

Grabbing her shawl from the back of her chair, she kept her attention on Patrick. With his back to her, he had the attention of the bartender. Good, so she could just… Tess swept her clutch from the tabletop and dashed out. The guy didn’t deserve to be ditched, but that didn’t make him what she needed.

Wrapping her shawl around her shoulders to fend off the night, she folded her arms. It wasn’t too cold; the air smelled good. Any free air smelled good. Wait. Free? No. There was no such thing.

Nothing made sense.

After a few blocks, she stopped on a corner and cursed herself. This wasn’t living. It wasn’t life. Worrying about her mother’s past and the secret message in the car was driving her nuts. Go crazy. Twice she’d been told that. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe her mom wasn’t the one with the mental health problem.

If Tess hadn’t had one before, one would be creeping up on her soon.

She needed to clear her mind. To let loose. Talking was overrated. Going into any of the bars would involve playing the flirting game. She’d have to catch someone’s eye, smile, look away, look back, bat her eyelashes. Be funny. Be charming, alluring, seductive.

“f**k that,” she said to herself and marched across the street, away from the bustle.

Small talk and flirtations were unnecessary. All she wanted was to be pushed down and taken hard. To clear her senses, sharpen her view of the big picture. Feeling anything other than numb despair or infuriating frustration would be an improvement.

Keyed up, she raised a hand to hail a cab. Adrenaline was rising. Faster. Faster. The cab took less than ten minutes to get to her destination. The gates were open, and a light shone from inside the office. Though a huge tow truck blocked the majority of the building. If her plan didn’t come to fruition, she’d be even more frustrated. The potent, pressurized need for release was reaching fever pitch.

Without breaking her step, Tess pulled the clip from her hair and threw it away. Flipping her head forward, she tossed it back and popped open her clutch to retrieve what she needed from inside.

Rounding the office building, she almost squealed at the sight of the light in the trailer. So far, so good. Two steps led to the door, she leaned over them to knock loud and sure.

A second passed, something clattered inside then a shadow crossed the lit window. Her heart hammered. Excitement? Anxiety? Who cares?

She moistened her lips and set her determination.

The door was pushed open. Leaning forward, with a flat hand on the door, Danny wore nothing but a pair of jeans. His wet hair was slicked back, curling a little around his ears. Bingo. This was what she needed. In the office, she’d known he was fit, but seeing him half n***d upgraded that assessment to ripped.

His brow arched in question. Her answer? The c****m between her first two fingers. Without much of a reaction, he stepped back, holding the door open.

Licking her lips again, she went up the stairs to slip inside. Face to chest, just a few inches between them, she closed her eyes in a sultry blink and tossed her purse onto the seat next to them.

“Rev my engine, Danny Boy,” she murmured, stepping out of her shoes and shedding the shawl.

As his eyes grew drowsy, a dimple slowly formed in his cheek. Yes. That was what she needed. Mischief. Abandon. Insanity. Her drawing down the zip of her dress gave Danny the cue to slide her spaghetti straps from her shoulders at an excruciating pace. After forever, her dress drifted to the floor. Gentle wasn’t right, it didn’t need to be drawn out. It needed to be now.

Somehow he sensed the slow tease didn’t fit her mood and flipped the pace. In a rush, he crouched to pick her up, squeezing her a*s hard.

Her whole body clenched in response.

Yes. That was it. Hard. Rough. Wild. Desire. Success.

Their mouths met as her legs wound around his torso. No longer lazy, their frantic need ignited an instant inferno. Tess coiled her arms around his head, losing her fingers in his hair, clutching him close and tipping her head to the side to push her mouth harder to his.

The kiss was enough to consume her. Nothing plagued her. There was nothing but this. His tongue, the sweet taste of him, the urgency of his commanding lips. Danny wanted her, though not as much as she wanted him.

They fell to the bed; he pushed her higher to take his mouth to her throat. He slipped the c****m from her fingers and from that point, there was only one driver.

With her eyes closed, her head rose and moved to grant him any access he wanted. She needed this. Exactly this. This man, his mouth, and that incredible body. Nothing else existed. The whole world was in that trailer, in the sensations firing through their nerves. He didn’t even expect her to do anything.

Scooping an arm around her, he held her off the bed to peel her b*a from her body. Her panties were next to go. When he dropped back down to kiss each of her inner thighs; she gasped and grabbed his hair in both fists. Whatever he wanted to do down there would wait. She needed him, his mouth, his c**k, every part of her screamed with need.

“Danny,” she panted, just managing to find his narrow eyes with hers. “Your c**k. Give me your cock.”

His primal groan warmed her as he dipped down to lick the seam of her body. Driving her fingers deep into his hair, she dragged him up, his mouth ascending all of her before rediscovering her kiss. Sucking his tongue hard, the clamp of her legs tightened around him.

Some odd, ancient instinct fired through her. She’d never wanted to possess anything or anyone in her life. But there she was, heart pounding against his hard chest, thinking that she never wanted to be anywhere else ever again.

All of her strength wasn’t enough to subdue him. While still kissing her, Danny took her knees and forced them away. She couldn’t prevent him from opening her up to him. Not that she wanted to. Her muscles were still tight, yet he was arranging her like she was his doll.

“Breathe in, Little Red,” he groaned in a deep voice that vibrated her every atom.

There was a tease in that command. Seeking meaning, her eyes opened at the same moment he surged forward and impaled himself inside her. On an involuntary shocked inhale, her world narrowed to exist in that one place between her thighs. No man had ever occupied her so completely. He was everything. Her everything. Just like that, in their fixed stare on each other, she lost some part of herself. Something came loose. Something she should keep secure.

That wasn’t good, but she couldn’t concentrate enough to care. Danny slid back and forward in a slow rocking motion, stroking her inside and out. The movement of his hips sped up and slowed down. It wasn’t a quick, frenzied f**k, but he wasn’t making love to her either.

Watching him watching her, she read his need to get inside her. He was evaluating her. Judging her. Lost in the chasm of arousal, her only goal was to be whatever he needed her to be. Seemed only fair when he was doing such an incredible job of giving her what she needed.

“Danny,” she whispered in a half whine, raising a heavy hand to his cheek.

He put his hand over hers to direct it away from his stubble, down his chest until he guided her fingers to her c**t, right above where he dominated her. Using her fingers to caress the spot he’d already pampered with the movement of his pelvis, he kept going for a few seconds until she was gasping and yelping, close to c****x.

“Right there,” he said under his breath and pulled back only to slam into her again.

She came so hard and suddenly that she couldn’t breathe for half a minute. Lost in the depths of an ocean, her whole body tightened in a spasm that blocked air from her lungs. He kept on going, moving fast and hard, pleasing himself in her submission.

“Danny!” she called out again when another o****m devoured her.

If he didn’t come soon, she’d have to beg for mercy.

No. She couldn’t handle it, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Nothing made sense. Nothing about the world was real. All she wanted was—on the crest of another o****m, Danny surged forward with such force that she was shunted up the bed, smacking her head against something hard. The growling expression on his face relaxed, though she couldn’t focus her eyes to take in any more than that.

His form vanished. She was left lying there, sweating, out of breath, and completely off-balance. What the hell just happened?