Unmasked (New Adult Romance) (The Unmasked Series) (17 page)

As soon as she could, Alyssa took a deep breath
and fell forward with her head on Peter's chest.

"It's alright, keep calm. Let's get you out of
here before we end up in an even worse spot. I think I can break this chain if
I try." He fished a pair of pliers out of his back pocket and went to work
twisting the chain back and forth until he managed, with a loud grunt, to snap
it in two.

"Alright, you'll have to wear the bracelets, but
at least you can move 'em. Come on; let's get the hell out of here."

"Thank you so much. Thank you thank you thank you
thank you," Alyssa said, throwing her arms around the big man's thick
shoulders. He stroked her back.

"It's fine, don't worry. We'll be fine. Preston's
looking too, and then he'll come find us." He chose not to say what it was,
exactly, that Preston was looking for, though. "Come on." Peter took one of
Alyssa's tingling hands gently in his and tugged her toward the door.

"Will you look at that," he said. "All those
monitors. He can watch the whole place from down here. Who the hell knew that
old weasel had such a thing?"

"Such hurtful words."

"Gadsen," Peter growled. "How did you know?"

"I had my suspicions when I went to come down
stairs and the stairs were sticking up at a forty-five degree angle. Usually
little boys learn to close doors that they open, hmm?"

Alyssa tugged the big man's hand and moved her
head in Gadsen's direction.

"What the hell are you doing with that thing?"
Peter said.

"Oh, this?" Gadsen raised his fist and with it, a
revolver, that he leveled first at Peter, then Alyssa. "I didn't want things to
go this far. Really, I didn't. But I had a feeling that either you or Preston
would cause a problem. Put a hitch in my plans." He let his hand drop back to
his side.

"Put it down, Gads. There's no need to point guns
at people, most of all her. She didn't do anything."

"You're right! She didn't do anything at all. Just
bad luck." He waved the pistol around his head in a circle. "Bad luck has that
effect. Do you want to talk about bad luck? Huh? You want to?"

"Gadsen," Peter raised his hands, palms forward.
"Please, Gadsen, put that thing down and we'll talk."

"No. I'll talk, and you'll listen."

"Okay, okay, fine. Please put down the gun. If you
fire it on accident, it'll-"

"Ricochet? I imagine you're right! But no thank
you, I'll not be putting the gun down. Not now anyway."

Peter sighed and moved himself between the butler
and Alyssa very slowly.

"Alright," he said. "Fine. What happened, Gadsen?
What brought all this on? Three weeks ago you were your old self, a little cranky
and what-not, but-"

"Shut up! You have no idea what you're talking
about. None! This started forty years ago. You might have been too blind to see
it, but Marissa and I were in love. She never stopped loving me, not once. It
was all
his
fault." The venom dripping off of Gadsen's tongue was almost
palpable as he spat out the words. "If it weren't for him, and his damned easy
grin and bright smile, it would have been she and I together, running this
empire."

"Uh, Gadsen, I think you're remembering things a
little crooked ways."

"Shut up!"

"Okay, okay," Peter said. "But remember, Preston
hired
you
to work here when he went off with the army. You never would
have met her without him. And I don't know what you mean about running the
business, but that was mostly her."

"Shut up!" He pointed the gun at Peter, holding
his arm so stiff it shook.

Alyssa tucked herself behind the big man and
quailed when he Gadsen shouted again, something almost incomprehensible about
Marissa and the business.

"You don't know anything! If it weren't for me,
this place would have burned to the ground at about eight points during the
sixteen years the sainted Preston Webb Sr. was absent."

Movement in one of the monitors grabbed Alyssa's
attention. A bare-footed man in black stepped briefly through the gaze of one
of the cameras and then vanished again before moving in front of another one.
Gadsen was ranting and raving so wildly that she figured he wasn't in much of a
state to pay attention to her eyes. She followed the tall, slender man with the
silk wrapped around his face.

It was only a matter of time. As long as Peter
kept the butler from doing anything drastic, it was only a matter of time.

He moved from the third floor landing to the
second. Slowly, he crept from one room to another, poking his head in and then
moving to the next. She wanted to scream, to call out to him, she wanted to
charge the man with the gun and do something to escape. When he felt her move
behind him though, Peter reached back and steadied her.

"I did run this place! For almost twenty years, I
made the decisions that built this company and made this house. I put together
the board, I hired the labor and I built the derricks on this field."

"Alright, Gadsen, alright," Peter said in a soft
voice. "Everyone knows you went through a lot for the Webbs. Hell, no one knows
it better than me because I was here the whole time."

"Is that so? Is that really true? If it is, then
why does it all go to
him?
Why does the whole thing go to a child who's
never done anything useful in his life? Why not me? Old Gadsen just goes out
with the trash, is that it? I knew this was going to happen thirty years ago.
Thirty two! I knew it! That's why..."

"Why what, Gadsen?"

"Shut up!" Again he leveled the gun at Peter's
chest.

Preston moved from the east end of the second
floor to the west, peeking slowly in each door. From the cameras, Alyssa was
able to watch his face as he studied all of the invariably empty spaces. When
he went to the room where she was kept, his gaze softened.
I'm here. I'm not
going anywhere, not without you. Come down here and get me and take me away and
I'll be yours forever
.

He pursed his lips and then turned away, toward
the stairs.

"Why what, Gadsen? You're not making any sense.
I'm trying to follow you."

Alyssa tugged on Peter's hand, and he squeezed
hers back. As though to say it's fine, everything is under control.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Yet again, the
butler's arm relaxed to his side, and the gun with it. "You've got your
suspicions, don't you? Preston always did. Preston always knew what I did, I
think, but he never said anything. Kept his mouth shut. About everything."

Peter's shoulders tensed. "What are you talking
about, Gadsen? You keep saying things that don't make any sense. Calm down and
talk me through it."

Preston turned at Gadsen's latest ranting, and
crept slowly down the stairwell before disappearing between the cameras.
Oh
God don't rush in here. Don't rush in here. Be careful, please, please, please
be careful.

"Gadsen, answer me. What are you talking about?
What did you do?"

"You know what I did! Everyone knows what I did,
or at least suspects!"

"No, I really don't think so. I have no idea what
you're talking about."

A second shadow slid inside the room, but Gadsen
was so caught up in waving his pistol around that he didn't notice. Peter
squeezed Alyssa's hand, and she held her breath so tight in her chest that her
lungs burned.

"He killed my mother. He killed my mother, and
tried to kill me. He figured that if we were dead, dad would give him the
company."

Preston moved quickly, right up behind the old man
and went for his gun. Gadsen spun and stuck it right in Preston's stomach.

"See? He knows!"

"You can't be serious, Preston," Peter said.
"That's crazy. He's been here forever. Your dad trusted him. Why would-"

"Jealousy, maybe. Greed? Who knows why people do
things." Preston grimaced at the gun barrel driving into his stomach and
clenched his fists. "Isn't that right? You killed my mom to get some money?
Some oil?"

"I could murder you were you stand," Gadsen
growled, and cocked the revolver.

"Yeah, but you won't. You don't have the spine.
You only poison people. Isn't that right? Just that you didn't mix it quite
strong enough to kill me, too."

"That's insane. Gadsen – tell me this isn't true.
Tell me you just went off your rocker a couple weeks ago and that's that."

"DDT was supposed to be strong enough to kill the
both of you."

"All it did to me was these," he lifted one of his
sleeves and revealed a network of scars. "And this," he said, running his
finger along the one running across his face, under the silk."

"I should have paid more attention."

"Put down the gun. You don't want this, Gadsen.
You shoot me, and those two are gonna jump on you. You shoot at them, and I'll
do it. You've got no place to go. Give it up."

Peter tensed, locking his hand tighter around
Alyssa's wrist and urging her down to the ground.

"Not a chance," the old man said. "I'll finish
what I started. One way or another."

In a half an instant, Preston spun away from him
and whipped a fist into the back of Gadsen's head, right at the neck. He
dropped, first to his knees, and then flailed backwards, hands outstretched.

The gun hit the floor with a thud.

Alyssa covered her ears, Peter shoved her to the
floor.

Preston dove for the gun.

It fired, filling the room with a flash of light
and deafening sound.

Alyssa hit the floor. She felt a hard pain in her
side.

The last thing she remembered was Preston shouting
'no' and scrabbling across the floor after her.

And then nothing.

––––––––

When she opened her eyes, the room was still dark,
but Alyssa realized she wasn't on the floor anymore, she wasn't cuffed to a
pipe, and she wasn't shaking. Instead, she was wrapped up in a blanket that
might well have been the softest thing she'd ever felt on her bare skin.

Bare skin? What is...?

"You were pretty beat up." Preston's voice from
the corner of the room, shrouded of course in darkness, caressed Lys's ears.
God it was good to hear that velvet whisper. "I checked you over to make sure
nothing was broken. And then I thought you might like to not be covered in
muddy clothes. I thought about washing you off, but I didn't want to come
across as over eager."

His soft laugh floated to Lys's ears.

God it was good to hear that laugh.

"No, no, of course not," she said, smiling through
the pain that gripped the left side of her head. "Where did he hit me?" Looking
for a bullet wound, or a big wad of gauze, she pushed herself gently off the
mattress.

"Right here," Preston stood and walked toward the
bed, then bent and kissed, ever so gently, the sore place below Lys's left
temple. "And here," he kissed lower on her jaw, in front of her ear.

"Oh did he?" She grinned and wrapped her arms
around his neck, holding him close and refusing to let go, even for a second.
He held her tight, kissed her again, unwrapped himself from her, and stood up
facing the window. His wavy black hair gently moved in the wind, just slightly
too short to reach the collar of his ever present black button-down.

She knew his shape, but to see him framed by the
sun, his wide shoulders, tapering to his trim waist sent a thrill down Alyssa's
back. His tailored slacks hugged slender, muscular legs. And oddly, he was
barefoot.

"You're real, aren't you? You're really, really
here? I'm not just dreaming? I keep thinking all this is just some kind of
insane fantasy, and I'm gonna wake up with food poisoning."

At that, he laughed, loud. It was the same laugh
she remembered from when he and she met, what seemed like an eternity before.

"Did you find it? What you were looking for?"

"You did," he glanced over at an open briefcase on
the table.

"Those scrapbooks? With the war letters?"

He nodded. "You didn't read far enough through
them. Or maybe you did, and just didn't catch the hints. My old man got more
and more worried about Gadsen being around my mom all the time, and then right
around the time she died, there was some back-and-forth about what it was,
exactly, that killed her. Anyway, the questions went unanswered. No one ever
did an autopsy. And that was that, pretty much. But between the letters, and
the old man's confessions, he's not going to be bothering anyone for a long
time."

"Is he...?"

"Dead? No. After the gun went off, the kitchen
staff ran in and took care of you. He's off at the county lockup now. Turns
out, waving guns around and threatening to kill people is worse than stealing
mushrooms." His smile right then could have struck her dead.

That's when she realized where she was.

The broken window, the two rose vases, and her
torn open letter on the table gave it away. Then she turned her attention back
to Preston Webb.

"You're... I'm not blindfolded."

"Baby steps," he said. As he turned, she saw he
had a length of silk wrapped around the part of his face that caused him so
much shame.

She took a breath, not expecting to see even that
little bit of him. His full, red lips, drawn into a bowed smile, took her
attention first, and then she fixed on his uncovered eye – a blue so deep that
it could have been a sapphire. The stubble that she'd felt before when he had
kissed her smoothly lined his tight sculpted jaw.

"Good Lord but you're gorgeous," she said with her
mouth half open in surprise. "I was perfectly happy when you were just a sweet
voice and a shadow, but now... Just...are you
really
sure I'm not
dreaming?"

A deep crimson flushed up Preston's neck and
covered his revealed cheek. His ruby lips quirked into a half-grin.

"Pretty sure." He sat beside her and ran his
fingers through her hair. A little tangle caught and Alyssa let out a little
yelp.

"Sorry about that," he said.

"Not a problem," her eyes got heavy, she closed
them part way, leaving them open just a little. "I'm afraid if I close my eyes,
you'll go away."

Two fingertips, so soft, so delicate, brushed
Alyssa's face, closing her eyes.

"Still here," he said as his lips touched hers,
first with the slick silk in the way, and then it pushed aside. "Right?"

"Yes you are. Oh my God, yes you are."

Lys wrapped her arms around Preston's wide, strong
shoulders, and felt the muscles flex and relax underneath his shirt with every
movement he made.

"You're so warm," she whispered into his ear. "How
can this be real?"

"I ask myself that a lot." Preston's lips brushed
against Alyssa's throat, then down her jaw, then behind her ear. "I think the
answer is 'because it is supposed to be'."

"I like that."

He kissed her again back in the soft place behind
the ear. Her voice quailed with pleasure, and then Preston's hand, just as warm
as his body, slid down between her breasts, and rested on her belly. Ever so
softly, he curled his fingers against her skin, kissed her earlobe, and then
took a moment to just breathe.

Without thinking about it, she turned to him and
put a hand on the side of his face, against the silk around the top of his
head. When Alyssa pulled him to her lips, he pushed against her softly at
first, and then pushed her lips apart with his, letting his breath caress her
tongue, and slip around her, trickling down her throat.

"Oh," she moaned, so softly that it might well
have been wind through a tree outside. "The way you kiss, the way your lips
feel against mine, I think you're right. There's no way this wasn't meant to
be."

Preston moved his hand further down her body, and
then ran it along the top of her panties to her hip, where again he tickled her
with his fingertips. When Alyssa's lips opened for a breath, he met her with
another kiss, pushing her mouth open wider, dragging his tongue inside her.

Every little spot he tasted, every breath he
breathed, filled Alyssa with warmth that, for her whole life, she never knew
existed.

"I thought I'd never have someone like you. Or
anyone at all," Preston said. He punctuated his words with a soft, sucking kiss
that sent a warm wave down Alyssa's sides. "It's been a strange ride."

She nodded and pulled him back for another taste
of his velvet lips.

"I know what you mean. Don't leave, okay?"

Preston pushed the edge of his shroud to the side
with his thumb and met Alyssa's kiss.

His tongue slid again around the edge of her lip,
ducking behind gently and tentatively. The heat against her chest and between
her legs told Alyssa that he needed to stop being so coy and she wanted to drag
her nails down his back and wrap her legs around his waist, but better sense
calmed her down a little.

But not much.

The instant Preston's lips left hers, a moan
slipped free from Alyssa's mouth. His fingers brushed lower on her stomach,
dipping just a little underneath the top of her soft white panties, and she found
herself almost trembling with how much she longed to feel his touch down there.

When he lowered his head for another suck on the
neck, trailing down her collarbones, Alyssa slid her hand between their bodies
and worked the first button on his shirt loose, then the second.

"You want to see me?"

"Of course I do. I want to see you and feel you
and have your skin burn me up with all that heat that seems to come out of you.
Why would I
not
want that? You don't need to be embarrassed with me,
okay? Of anything, okay?"

"I have..." his whisper trailed off. "I have
scars."

"I know," she said, craning her neck for another
kiss, this one on the corner of his sweet mouth. "I can see the bottom of one
right here. And you know what?"

"Yeah?"

Instead of speaking, Alyssa pushed the fabric
aside and kissed the old wound on Preston's lip. Gently, she sucked it between
her teeth and then moved to his bottom lip, pulling it inside her mouth and
running her tongue between it and his teeth. Both of her hands went to the side
of his face and pulled him close.

The hand on her stomach slipped further down and
Alyssa almost screamed out for him to touch her, but it went around to the
front of her hip. Her lover's thumb stroked the bone of her hip, and his pinky
lay between the inside of her thigh and the outside of her...

When he moved it, Alyssa sucked a breath and
couldn't help but wiggle a tiny bit. The way he felt and his weight on her
body, his hand curling gently right there, so close to her sex that she could
hardly stand it, it all came together and shot deep, slow vibrations all the
way to her shoulders.

"You can touch me however you want," she said.

His response was to push her lips apart with his,
and swirl his tongue deep inside her, around hers and then against it, and then
around again. He pulled back achingly slow, tasting her, and moaning all the
way out. Alyssa's breath followed his kiss.

Unconsciously, she arched her back against his
muscular, but still covered chest, and undid another button with her hand
between her breasts that every ounce of Alyssa's being wished he would touch.

"Please let me take it off?"

He didn't speak, but pushed himself up on one
hand, to let Alyssa do her work.

One after another, she released the buttons all
the way down his chest until the shirt hung open around her. She pushed it back
over his shoulders and let her hands caress his warm, smooth skin.

"So strong," she whispered, "God your shoulders
are strong. And your chest... these muscles, I just can't believe you'd hide
this under those dress shirts." Her fingers bounced over scars, countless scars
she barely noticed, as caught up in the lines of his muscles as Lys was.

"But the scars, they're..."

"I didn't even notice them until you said
something." She kissed his neck, and pulled him down on her, his warmth burning
through her body and heating her core, pebbling her nipples into sensitive
peaks. "Didn't even notice."

"When I was born, I-"

"Shh..." she put a finger to his lips and then
kissed him again. "It doesn't matter. You're beautiful right now no matter what
happened way back when."

It was eating at him though. Preston gritted his
teeth hard, clenching them and making his jaw swell.

"I can't just forget. What if you see them and it
scares you, or you start feeling sorry for me and treat me differently? I can't
have that."

"Then let me see. Let me see your body. Let me see
your scars. I want you just like you are, but if you need to show me, I
understand."

He whipped the shirt off and threw it across the
room, but crossed his arms over his beautiful chest.

"I've never shown this to anyone."

"It is alright, Preston," Alyssa's voice was so
soft that she made him relax a little. "I promise. I'm not going to laugh at
you. I'm not going to be afraid. I know what your heart is like, and to me
that's the most important thing in the world. You have such a big, strong, good
heart that no scars anywhere could make me feel any differently than I do right
now."

"Oh... okay." He said. He closed his uncovered
eye, and let his arms drop to his sides. "Please don't be upset."

For a moment, Alyssa's eyes moved over his body.
Preston's arms were turned palms toward her, and across his entire chest, and
the inside of his arms, were a crisscrossing net of razor-thin scars. From a
distance, it would have been very difficult to make them out, but up close, the
raised, slightly pink net that lay over his skin was evident.

"No, wait," she said when Preston raised his arm
to cover himself. "Don't do that. You're beautiful, scars and all." Her breath
was soft and relaxing, or at least that's how she meant it to sound.

He opened his eyes and fixed them on her, the
sapphire burned her soul.

"You're not the only one with things you hide."
She stood up and tapped his chest with the tips of two fingers. "Look."

Before she knew it, Alyssa had begun to turn,
slowly, in front of Preston doing something she'd never before even thought of
in her wildest dreams – showing him all the places that embarrassed her.

"What are you talking about?" He said, watching
closely. "There's nothing wrong with you. You have the most beautiful, curvy,
wonderful body."

"Says you," she whispered. "To me, I've got some
lumps here and there that I can't get rid of, no matter how I try. Just like
you look at yourself and don't see anything but scars, I look at me and see a
pudgy little girl that's never comfortable in her own skin."

She finished turning, and looked back at him over
her shoulder, with the best bedroom eyes she could manage without feeling
silly.

"I'm not saying it's the same thing. Not at all."
Her fingers hooked around the top of Preston's slacks and she pulled him
closer. "Just that, well, we don't always see ourselves like other people do.
That's all."

He sat in silence, looking at her for a few
seconds, his eyes moving up and down her body.

"And that," Alyssa took a deep breath. "Well, that
you're okay. I don't know why, but for some reason you make me feel safe, like
there's no reason to be scared or upset. With other people, I'm always kinda
turned-in, y'know? I can't really relax. But, well, I just keep talking. I'm
gonna shut up now."

"No," he said in his soft, assuring way. "I like
the sound of your voice."