Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 04 - Strings of Glass (18 page)

T
he
wailing outside filled me with its sound and I felt grief coursing through
every fiber of my being. It felt cleansing, to revel in the pain, stop trying
to push it down where it couldn’t touch me. It was what had created me,
I realized, as sobs racked through me. This pain, the
loss of my brother, of my identity, it was something to be reveled in, not
scorned and pushed aside.

I let
screams of grief escape me, adding to the cacophony that rose from the women
clustered in the street below. I was an animal, nothing more and nothing less.
Blue barked and then raising his nose to the sky let out a howl that warbled in
his throat.

I didn’t
hear the knocking at the door, but suddenly Mulberry
was at my side. He picked me up off the ground. “Sydney,” he said,
shaking me. “Sydney. Joy!”

He
looked down at me with his bright green eyes and I grabbed onto him, clawing
at his back, pulling him closer to me. Then he was kissing me and I was kissing
him. We stumbled back into the suite and knocked into a table, sending a lamp
crashing to the ground. He pushed me onto the table,
kissing me, his hands rough. I felt on fire and wild. I pushed him back,
slamming him into a nearby wall sending a photograph smashing to the ground,
its frame cracked and the glass shattered, sending
splinters across the marble floor.

Blue
barked and circled us. Mulberry growled, then picked me up and carried me past
the destruction. I fought against him, pounding on his chest. He let me hit
him, hardly feeling it. He was so much stronger, braver, bigger, more than me.
I cried out again and he silenced me with his mouth.

Slamming
the bedroom door behind us with his foot he dropped me on the bed. He threw off
his shirt. On my knees, I pulled my dress over my head. He grabbed me and I
tore at his hair as he kissed me. We fought, pillows flying off the bed, sheets
tangling and catching us, but he didn’t let me go.

The
wailing outside continued, but now sounded distant
compared to the rapid beating of my heart and ragged breaths I managed to pull.
He pinned me under him, sweat slick
between us. I dug my nails into his back so that he winced. He bit me hard.

I bucked
my hips, tumbling us together across the bed and onto the floor, landing with
him under me. He reached up and held my face, looking up at me, his eyes
shining. I bit my lip ,looking down at him, my chest heaving. He sat up and
gently kissed my clavicle, trailing to my shoulder. Mulberry ran his hands up
my back slowly, caressing me. I twitched when he touched the scar on my leg.
“Shhh,” he said into my neck. I leaned my head back staring up at the
ceiling and let myself float away with him.

We
exhausted ourselves and I fell asleep against his chest. Mulberry ran his
fingers lightly up and down my arm, soothing me into a dreamless blackness. I
woke up sweating and tangled in the sheets. Mulberry twitched in his sleep and
cried out. “Wake up,” I said, shaking
him. He struggled for a moment and then his eyes popped open,
wide and terrified. “It was just a dream,” I said. “Hey,” I
smiled. “It was just a dream.”

His eyes
focused on me. He shook his head. “Then what are you doing in bed with
me?”

I
laughed. “Did you seriously just say that?”

His arm
wrapped around me and this time was slow, gentle. I saw scars on his body I’d
never noticed before. A slash across his left bicep, the puckered kiss of a
bullet exit wound on his right thigh. A zigzag across his abdomen looked fresh,
new, still healing.

When I
woke up,
the morning light poured through the floor to ceiling windows and I was alone
in bed. Scanning the room I saw destruction. A side table was turned over, the
lamp askew on the ground. The sheets were ripped off the mattress and tangled
around my body. The memories from the night before rushed back at me, hot and
heavy in the morning light. I touched my lips, swollen. I walked naked to the
bathroom and took a hot shower, finding a bruise on my hip, a bite mark on my
neck, and finger marks on my bicep.

Wiping
steam off the mirror I saw me staring back, my cheeks flushed, lips plump. I
ran a comb through my hair, pulling at the tangles. Taking a moment I made eye
contact with myself in the mirror and felt a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in
years. I couldn’t help but smile.

Pulling
on one of the big, white fluffy bathrobes provided
by the hotel I walked out into the living room. The mess was worse. Glass
scattered across the floor caught the morning light reflecting my true nature
back at me. Dangerous animal, I thought.

“Hey,”
Mulberry said. He was standing on the balcony wearing the other robe. His black
hair with specks of grey was tousled and his smile unsure.

“Hi,”
I said back, picking my way through the glass toward
him. We didn’t know what to do. I stood in front of him and the way he looked
down at me made my body hum, but he ran his hand through his hair, something it
looked like he’d been doing all morning and said:

“There’s
something I need to tell you.” He looked at the table where a pot of
coffee and two cups waited. “You want some coffee?”

“Sure,”
I said. He pulled my chair out for me and I laughed at him.

He
blushed. “Sorry,” he said, leaving
me to my own devices to pour my coffee. Mulberry sat across from me and picked
up his own cup taking a sip. “I’m sure you’re wondering what I’m doing
here.”

It
hadn’t even occurred to me why Mulberry was there. He just
always showed up when I needed him. The thought struck me silent and Mulberry
continued fiddling with his coffee cup. “Hugh is in trouble.”

His
words were like a splash of frigid water. “What?” I croaked. Hugh was
James’s boyfriend when he was murdered. At the time I thought that Hugh would
be my brother-in-law soon
enough. I knew he mourned James almost as much as me. I’d promised to call him
after I fled New York, to let him know I was safe, but I never did hoping to
keep all those feelings far away.

Mulberry
looked at me. “He’s been accused of murder.”

“Murder?”
The idea seemed absurd. Hugh was gentle, sweet. Then again, I don’t think
anyone would have pegged me for a killer before I became one.

“We’ve
got him a lawyer and he’s already out on bail, but I thought you’d want to come
help.”

I
nodded. “Yes, of course.” Sipping my coffee I looked out onto the
lake sparkling serenely in the early light. “Wait a second,” I said,
turning back to Mulberry. “Who’s
we?”

His
cheeks flushed. “Someone you don’t like very much.”

“Jesus,
Mulberry, Bobby Maxim!”

“Hey,
he’s the one who brought this to my attention.”

“Why
are you still in contact with that guy?”

“He’s
not all bad.”

“He
tried to have us killed!”

Mulberry
rubbed at the stubble on his face. “I don’t hold that against him.”

I
slammed my coffee down, rattling the saucer.

“Look,”
Mulberry leaned toward me. “He’s willing to help and we’re going to need
as much as we can get. Hugh is in deep shit here.”

I
squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my palms against my sockets. My phone buzzed.
Mulberry got up and grabbed my purse for me. I pulled my phone out and saw that
I’d missed Dan’s call… seven times. I hung my head,
guilt coursing through my body.

The
phone rang again as I held it, a number I didn’t
recognize. I answered. “Hello,
Sydney.” His voice sent a shiver down my spine.

“Bobby?”

“I
guess Mulberry has told you about Hugh by now.”

“Yes.”

“Your
flight leaves in two hours. I’m sure Hugh will be very excited to see
you.” I didn’t answer, feeling like the world
was tipping on its side. “I bet you’re going to look real good in Miami.
See you soon, dear.”

The line
went dead.

<<<<>>>> 

ABOUT THE
AUTHOR

Emily Kimelman lives on a boat in the Hudson Valley
with her husband, Sean and their dog Kinsey (named after Sue Grafton’s Kinsey
Millhone). Kimelman has a passion for traveling and spends as much time as
possible in the pursuit of adventure.

Her Sydney Rye series feature a strong female
protagonist and her canine best friend. It is recommended for the 18+ who enjoy
some violence, don’t mind dirty language, and are up for a dash of sex. Not to
mention an awesome, rollicking good mystery!

The first book, UNLEASHED, was released in October,
2011. DEATH IN THE DARK, a novella length Sydney Rye mystery came out in
December 2012. The third installment in the series INSATIABLE came out in 2013.
The fourth novel, STRINGS OF GLASS, came out this summer.

If you’ve read Emily’s work and want to get in contact
with her she can be reached via email
[email protected]
, on Twitter
@ejkimelman
,
on
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and at her website
www.emilykimelman.com
. Sign up for
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A NOTE FROM
THE AUTHOR

Thank you for reading my novel, STRINGS OF GLASS. I’m
excited that you made it through my whole bio right here to my
“note”. I’m guessing that means that you enjoyed my story. If so,
would you please write a review for STRINGS OF GLASS? You have no idea how much
it warms my heart to get a new review. And this isn’t just for me, mind you.
Think of all the people out there who need reviews to make decisions. The
children who need to be told this book is not for them. And the people about to
go away on vacation who could have so much fun reading this on the plane.
Consider it an act of kindness to me, to the children, to humanity.

Let people know what you thought about STRINGS OF
GLASS on Goodreads, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or iTunes.

Thank you, Emily