Bad to the Bone (22 page)

Her whisper chilled him, made him want to hold her tight, keep her safe. When Sully tried to pull her into his arms, she twisted away. Like everything else in her life, she was determined to do this alone. He let her go, conscious of the darkness swirling in him, the overwhelming need to punish the men who had done this to her. It was so easy to hate, especially when there was reason to hate. Loving somebody was harder. That hurt a lot more.

Right now he hurt like hell for Jessie.

“
Jessica
,” she whispered again, and then the first tear rolled down her face. “See … I pretended he wasn’t really calling me. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to die. And we
knew
—Jenny and me—we knew exactly what he was going to do.”

She made eye contact for an instant, as if she needed to reassure herself that she was in the “now” and not the “past.” Jessie calmly licked the tear off the corner of her lip as it finally trickled down far enough. “They told us every day—‘If your father doesn’t pay,
we’ll have to kill you.’ So when he came downstairs and called my name, I froze.

“I couldn’t make myself move. I thought maybe—just maybe—if I stood real still, he wouldn’t see me. I didn’t get why this could be happening. I was twelve years old, and this man was going to kill me because my father didn’t love me. Helluva note, huh?”

Jessie hugged herself. Sully’s hands fisted with the effort to keep them at his sides and off of her.

“Do you know what that feels like?” she asked. “To know that no one cares enough to save you? That no one will come for you? To wonder every day if this is the day you’re going to die?”

Sully knew what it felt like. He knew how powerless it made him feel. How terrified. He knew how many times he’d tried to become invisible. How he made bargains with God and finally stopped because He never listened, and your father beat you anyway.

“Then that day comes,” Jessie continued, nodding her head as if telling herself to just get through it. “And he calls your name. I wasn’t brave. I didn’t go to him. I wasn’t a coward. I didn’t try and run. I was nothing. I just stood there. And then the man got mad because he couldn’t tell us apart.”

“No.” Sully wasn’t certain if he thought it or felt it or said the word. All he knew was that he didn’t want to hear the rest. He knew where this was going. But Jessie didn’t stop. She was going to say it all. Every bit. Until she owned his heart.

“He swore at us and grabbed Jenny. And I stood there. She never said a word. She was always the good one, the strong one. And he took her away, and then she screamed. I still hear it at night.” Jessie lifted her chin and met his gaze squarely. Her eyes swam with
unshed tears, but not another tear dared drop. “Now, you tell me I didn’t kill Jenny.”

Jessica waited for revulsion to creep into Sully’s eyes. Every nerve in her body felt raw and exposed. She’d finally said aloud what she’d never told another living soul. No more pretending. No more waking up and hoping it was a bad dream. The words made it finally truly irrevocably real.

I’m so sorry, Jenny. I love you forever
. The tears fell, but she refused to brush them off. No ploys for sympathy. No excuses.

When Sully pulled her into his arms, the first sob escaped. Jessica caught it and sucked it back inside. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be simple.
Don’t do this to me, Sully. Don’t offer me what I can’t keep
.

“Shh,” was all he said before he kissed her forehead, then each eyelid, and the corner of her mouth. “It’s over.”

Comfort became need. Need became passion.

Jessica tasted the salt of her own tears on Sully’s mouth as it covered hers, and she felt the restraint in him. She didn’t want restraint. Not now. Not ever again. Not when Sully kissed her. She wanted him strong and hard inside her. She wanted to be a part of him; him a part of her. For just a little while she wanted someone to love her again.

Sully gave up trying to hold back when Jessie rose to match her body to his. The flimsy sundress was as substantial as a spider web. Every inch of her curves pressed against him. Groaning at the urgency building within him, he gathered up the material of her dress until he could get his hands on her panties.

“Jessie,” he whispered against her mouth, his voice
and body both tight with need. Only her panties were in the way.

“Do it.” Her answer was more a sigh than real words.

One good tug was all it took, and he tossed them aside.

Her hands were already working his belt and zipper. By the time she freed him, Sully thought he might lose his mind. His hand floated over the warm skin of her rump, over the plump curves, down the backs of her legs. Then he picked her up, lifting her, spreading her thighs until she wrapped them around his hips. And then he entered her.

Sully closed his eyes against the pleasure of sinking himself into Jessie. He didn’t imagine he’d ever get used to the idea that she was his. Capturing her mouth again, he let his tongue do what he feared to do with his body until he had regained some control. But soon even the wet warmth around him wasn’t enough, he had to stroke. The table was closest. It’d have to do.

When Sully settled her against the cool, smooth oak, Jessica gasped, not from the cool surface but from the way he withdrew and pushed into her again hard. There was no seduction between them, just a rough need to feel and be felt. This time she didn’t close her eyes. This time Sully became her anchor, someone to hold tight as each thrust took her breath away and sent her spiraling toward completion.

Sully felt her muscles tighten around him each time he drove into her, as if she was trying to hold him inside, trying to take him with her as she spun over the edge. He fought her, fought the hunger in her eyes that begged him to finish it. This was too quick, too hard, too satisfying. Sully groaned because she wrest
his climax from him before he was ready. As her trembling began, he plunged into her and came.

When it was over, Sully pulled away from the intimacy, but rested his forehead against hers. Making love to Jessie was like running a marathon and then believing he could do it again. Physically he probably could, he was growing hard already, but emotionally he wasn’t so sure. There had been pure need between them, like drowning victims clutching anything they could find to stay afloat.

Stepping away, Sully turned his back to give her time to pull herself together as he straightened his own clothing. When he finally faced her again, she was tossing what he assumed was the torn underwear in the trash. Sully rubbed a hand across his face as he realized how rough he’d been. Jessie was new to this, and he’d ignored that fact. No matter that her need matched his or that she had initiated it.

They were so much alike. Both with childhoods no child should suffer, much less survive. And Jessie was a survivor. No doubt about it.

“I need to change,” was all she said, but her eyes were filled with doubt again. She had drawn back into that place where she stood alone and was too afraid to ask for more. Sully knew that place all too well, but he let her go without a word.

When she returned, she had on blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a black shirt. The veneer of toughness was back as if she’d made hard decisions that had to be kept.

“You’ve already talked to them, haven’t you?” Sully asked, but it wasn’t really a question. As he laid out his suspicions, he shoved away from the kitchen doorway
and walked into the center of the living room. “They called the night Lincoln was murdered. Am I right?”

Jessica didn’t answer. What was there to say? Only more lies. None that he would believe.

“
Am I right?
” He didn’t raise his voice, but the words were deafening, compelling.

“They called. Phil for the book.”

“
Jesus, Jessie!
” Sully paced a circle, coming back to stand in front of her again. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

“Men ask such stupid questions.” She shook her head at the masculine peculiarity. “Because you’d try and stop me. Or go with me.”

“You’re damned right,” he exploded. “You got no business doing this. Spying on people and picking locks for the government is one thing, but you can’t do this. You aren’t trained for this.”

She let that pass without correcting him. “If I don’t go, they’re going to kill him.”

“
If you do go, they’re going to kill you!
” When she didn’t dispute him, he sighed, visibly making an effort to control himself. “Do you even have the book?”

“No.”

He grabbed her shoulders. “Listen to me, Jessie. Killing an intruder who is threatening you isn’t the same as cold-bloodedly killing someone.”

“Really?” she said sarcastically, as his deadly earnest gaze bored into her. “I’ll try and remember that.”

“Remember this—you don’t have the book. You’ll have to take them out before they realize that fact. You’ll have to stand there, look them in the eye, and kill them.”

“Seems reasonable.”

His grip tightened painfully. “All you have are two shots in that derringer. Do you understand what I’m
saying? Is any of this getting through to you? They have to be dead before they hit the ground.”

“If I don’t go, they’ll kill Phil,” she repeated softly. “I can’t walk away from this. And you know why.”

“I don’t give a damn about Phil! He’s not the one I care about. They’re going to kill him anyway. They’re going to kill
you
anyway!”

He’s not the one I care about
.

Jessica felt that admission slide into her, warming her. Sully didn’t even comprehend what he said. But it was enough, more than she thought she’d ever get from him. It was something real to keep until she destroyed it. She couldn’t let herself forget what she was, and that she’d have to tell him.

“You don’t have the book,” Sully pointed out again, enunciating each word as though he wasn’t certain of her understanding. “They aren’t going to be fooled by something you’ve jury-rigged. Phil is going to have to confirm what’s in it, what’s on each page, how it’s set up. It’s not going to match what he says. Jessie, listen to me.”

Each word got progressively louder. “Neither you nor Phil will last ten seconds if you can’t produce the real book!”

In the silence that followed, Iris’s hushed voice reached them. “I can give you the book. I didn’t know you wanted it. You never told me.”

In unison, Sully and Jessie turned to the screen door, gaping at her. Iris felt only the briefest sliver of guilt for eavesdropping on their fight. It wasn’t her fault. She would have walked away; she was going to, but then Jessie said that part about her dad being killed. That froze her in place, her hands perched on
the crosspiece at the middle of the screen as she prayed she had misunderstood somehow.

But she hadn’t, and then she realized all they needed was the information. Relief flooded her. That was all? she thought. That was so easy. Her dad would be safe. Everything would be okay again.

When she spoke up, they turned, waves of disbelief rolling toward her. Then anger.

“I thought—I thought you’d be happy. Doesn’t this fix everything?”

Jessie pushed past Sully and came to the door, opening it and drawing her inside without a word. As soon as Iris felt her touch, she could tell the anger wasn’t for her. Jessie shut the wooden door behind them and asked, “You said all you ever saw were the files. You said that on the phone. I asked you if you’d seen a book like that, and you said no. I asked you.”

“There aren’t any files.” Guilt pinched again. “I didn’t tell you that I knew about the book because I thought you wanted to use those other people, and I didn’t want to. They didn’t feel right. Except maybe one, but he’s new and kind of young, and—” Iris rushed to explain because the expression on Jessie’s face just kept getting worse with every word. “—Daddy always said that it took a while before he knew if he could trust someone to get the job done. And, anyway, he always said that you were the best of the bunch.”

“Oh, my God.”

“It’s okay, Jessie. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know we needed it to get Daddy back. Really, I didn’t. Daddy told me never to tell anyone. All the time he tells me that. It’s our secret. No one can know. Not even Rosa.”

“How long have you known about it?”

“Since I was eight. I help him keep it all straight. It’s how I know I’m important to him.”

In that moment Sully decided that if Phil lived through this, life was going to change in the Munro household. Jessie turned away from the girl and looked at him in dumb horror. He knew what she was thinking. The same thing that he was thinking. What kind of monster puts his own child in danger and calls it love?

Unfortunately they could both answer that question from personal experience.

“Iris,” he said, “can you get to the book tonight?”

“I don’t have to go get it.”

“You carry it with you?” Sully asked in surprise.

She nodded her head and then pointed at her temple. “It’s not really a book. It used to be, but I’ve got a good memory, so it’s up here. All of it.”

Neither Sully or Jessica wanted to believe what Iris said so confidently. The concept was appallingly obvious and absolutely hideous to contemplate. Hesitantly Jessica asked, “A photographic memory?”

“Yeah, I told you I had a good memory the night I did the tarot reading. Remember? You wanted to know how I knew all those cards.”

A memory flooded Jessica, but it wasn’t of that first night in Jericho. Phil’s voice and last words on the phone drifted through her mind and took on new meaning. Horrified at the choice they faced, Jessica turned to Sully. Her hands were shaking and cold. The words came out before she could censor them.

“Phil doesn’t want her involved, Sully. I made them let me talk to him. He told me to let it go. He
doesn’t want her to remember. He doesn’t want us to save him. That’s what he meant.”

“No!” Iris backed away from her like a scalded dog, betrayal in her eyes. “We have to go. You said they’d kill him if you didn’t. I heard you. You said it.”

“Your dad—”

“Needs me. You promised to help me. You said we’d give them anything they wanted. Anything. If I don’t go, they’ll kill him.” Panic fueled Iris’s anger at Jessica’s silence. The sunburn on her cheeks disappeared as emotion reddened her entire face. “You aren’t going to let me help, are you?
Are you?
”