Read What She Doesn't Know Online

Authors: Beverly Barton

Tags: #Suspense, #Contemporary romance, #Fiction

What She Doesn't Know (21 page)

“What do you want me to promise?”
“Promise me that no matter what happens, even if they find out Lemar Fuqua didn’t kill Audrey and Lisette, you won’t let anything bad happen to Max. We have to protect him.”
Parry leaned over, kissed her cheek, and said, “Georgie, Max didn’t kill them. You haven’t been thinking all these years that he—”
“I believe I know the truth,” Georgette said. “I think perhaps I’ve always known that Lemar Fuqua didn’t kill Audrey and Lisette.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I think I know who killed all three of them.”
“Do you, Georgie? Do you really?”
“Yes, Parry, I do. I really do.”
Mallory had tried to leave, but R. J. wouldn’t let her go. She had fought him until she wore herself out and then she cried and pleaded, but to no avail. She had come to him, needing him. Needing comfort. Wanting somebody to care about her. Love her. But all R. J. had done was take her ruthlessly, not caring if he hurt her. How could she have misjudged him so badly? She thought he cared about her, that he was the one person she could trust not to betray her.
“Come on, honey.” R. J. swooped her up into his arms. She didn’t have the strength to fight him, so she let him lift her and carry her into the bathroom.
He took her with him into the shower, then set her on her feet and turned on the water. His body shielded hers from the initial blast of cold liquid; only when the water warmed did he reverse their positions so that the spray hit her full-force. Her body ached, probably more from the fact that she had tensed her muscles when R. J. invaded her so roughly than from the sex itself. And she burned between her legs. Damn, why did people have sex all the time if it was so horrible?
R. J. lathered a washcloth and ran it over her back and buttocks, lathering her skin. And when he parted her legs and washed her intimately, she made no protest. He turned her around carefully and lathered her breasts and belly. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She hated him for what he’d done to her, for how terribly he’d disappointed her. But when he dropped the washcloth and gently pushed her against the tiled wall, she gasped and her gaze locked with his.
“You’re pretty mad at me right now, aren’t you, honey?”
She swallowed the emotions lodged in her throat, anger mixed with unhappiness.
“I can make it better,” he told her.
She glared at him.
“Don’t believe me?” he asked.
She shook her head. She despised him! How could he undo what he’d done? He couldn’t change anything, least of all the cruelty of his actions.
R. J. didn’t wait, didn’t ask her permission. He just kissed her. An open mouth, tongue-lunging, wet kiss. Whimpering a protest, she squirmed to free herself, but he manacled her wrists, held them above her head and deepened the kiss. Despite how much she hated him right now, her body responded. Her nipples peaked and pressed against his chest. Her feminine core throbbed. How was it possible that she could want him after the way he’d mistreated her?
His hand slid between them, over her belly to cup her mound. When he pried her thighs apart, she moaned, but he forged ahead and managed to slip a couple of fingers inside her.
“Are you sore, baby?”
“Yes, I’m sore, damn you.”
He chuckled. “I’m going to make it feel good any minute now.”
He slipped his fingers out and began an assault on her aching core. Then he whispered shockingly crude words in her ear moments before his tongue teased first one nipple and then the other. As he caressed her intimately and suckled at her breasts, Mallory’s body hummed with every stroke until she began feeling a bone-melting pleasure.
Lifting his head, R. J. grinned. “Feeling better?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Relax, baby, and let it happen. You’re going to come for me. You’re going to shudder and shake and cry out.” He kept stroking her, harder, deeper, faster. And all the while the warm water showered their naked bodies. “The next time I’m inside you, it’s going to feel like this, only better. Come on, baby, come for me.”
She wriggled and squirmed, riding his hand while his fingers worked their magic. The whole world fell apart, shattering all around her as she climaxed. The aftershocks went on and on as she fell into R. J.’s arms and pressed her head on his shoulder.
“That’s my good girl.”
He shut off the shower, helped her out and onto the tiled floor, then wrapped her in a towel and sat her on the commode until he dried himself with another towel. She crossed her arms over her waist and hugged herself tightly, not sure she understood what had just happened. And while she was in the process of trying to figure it out, R. J. jerked her up off the commode seat and dragged her back into the bedroom. He whipped the towel from her body and pulled her into the bed with him. This time he lifted her until she sat astride his hips.
“Again, Mallory. Only this time, you’re going to like it. I promise.”
Tell him no. Tell him you’re not going to let him stick his big, hard dick inside you and hurt you again. But before she could form the words of protest, he maneuvered her up and around until the tip of his penis teased her feminine folds. Instinctively, she tensed. He grabbed her hips, lifted her, then brought her down on his jutting sex, impaling her. She gasped at the sensation of fullness inside her and waited for the pain. But there was no pain. Only a slight irritation. And when he moved in and out several times, she experienced a tingling enjoyment.
He moved her hips up and down in a slow steady rhythm, his sex rubbing back and forth over her hard little kernel and striking a sensitive area inside her with each lunge. Soon she took over and moved of her own volition, riding him with an urgency she knew would lead to another climax. With one hand on her hip, he lifted the other to tease her nipples, pinching and flicking, keeping them tight and ultra-sensitive.
“Oh, God, R. J.”
“Faster, baby, faster.”
She accelerated the pace, but it apparently wasn’t fast enough to suit him. Once again he grabbed her hips and pumped her up and down until she exploded in a mind-blowing orgasm. His release followed hers a second later.
Wet with perspiration and breathing wildly, Mallory dissolved on top of R. J., melding her body to his.
“Better the second time, wasn’t it, honey?” He nuzzled her neck.
She sighed. “Yes. Much better.”
It wasn’t until later, when she and R. J. had sex for a third time, that she realized he hadn’t used a condom the second time. Oh, well, nothing she could do about it now.
“Use a condom this time,” she told him.
He sheathed himself, then eased into her. She kissed him, wanting him, needing him, longing for more and more of this newly awakened passion she’d just discovered.
“Teach me things,” she told R. J.
“What do you want to learn?” he asked.
“Everything.”
“That could take awhile. Days, weeks, months.”
“Fine by me, as long as you give me another lesson right now.”
Chapter 20
 
“Isn’t this the most wonderful news.” Clarice hugged Yvonne, then clasped Yvonne’s hands and beamed cheerfully. “God has answered a lot of prayers. He’s given us back our precious Theron.”
“Come on in and say hello,” Yvonne said.
“Oh, I shouldn’t disturb him, if he’s resting. We don’t want to tire him out.”
“Nonsense. He wants to see you.” Yvonne tugged on Clarice’s hand, then glanced at Clarice’s constant companion. “You don’t mind waiting out here, do you, Nowell?”
“Not at all,” he replied. “Clarice has been awfully worried about Theron. It’ll do her good to see him and have him talk to her. Maybe she’ll stop fretting so much once she sees for herself that he’s improving.”
When they entered the ICU cubicle, Theron lay flat on his back, his body still attached to an assortment of tubes and wires that monitored his vital signs and administered the nourishment and medication his body needed. The moment Clarice and Yvonne approached his bed, he opened his eyes and smiled oddly, then glanced back and forth from one to the other, as if studying them. Yvonne’s heartbeat quickened. Why was he looking at them that way? she wondered.
“I don’t know why I never saw it before.” Theron’s voice, unused for days, was still a bit hoarse and slightly scratchy.
“What didn’t you ever see before?” Clarice asked.
“How much you and Mama resemble each other.”
Yvonne gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth.
“Well, of course we favor each other,” Clarice said, as if stating the obvious. “Yvonne and I both look a lot like our daddy. Whereas Audrey and Lisette looked more like my mama, and Lemar resembled his mama.”
“Theron, let me explain…” Yvonne had kept the truth hidden from her son all his life, uncertain how he would react if he knew. And here Clarice had proclaimed them sisters as if she’d been discussing nothing more unusual than hot weather in July.
“What’s there to explain?” Theron’s gaze connected with Yvonne’s.
“I didn’t tell you because—”
“Because you thought I wouldn’t want to know that my grandfather was white.”
“Well, I wanted to tell you,” Clarice said. “I wanted you to know that I was your aunt, just the way I was Jolie’s aunt. I hope you believe me when I tell you that I’ve always loved you just as much as I loved Jolie.”
A fine mist glazed Theron’s hazel eyes. Eyes that were a biological inheritance from Sam Desmond. “I—I didn’t know,” he said. “But I should have. You always treated me as if I were special to you. I have to admit that your affection for me bothered me once I got older. It just didn’t make any sense to me. And it bothered me that you and Mama were so close. I didn’t understand.”
There was a great deal her son didn’t know about her, far more than simply her white heritage. There was one thing in particular Yvonne prayed he would never find out. The one other secret she shared with Clarice. A secret that bound them together as deeply as sisterhood. A terrible secret that they had sworn they would take to their graves.
“People suspected the truth about Yvonne and Lemar being Desmonds,” Clarice said. “But we all promised Daddy, when he lay dying, that we’d keep the truth within the family. Among us five siblings.” Clarice lowered her voice. “He didn’t want folks thinking less of Sadie, you know. After all, he was married to my mama when Yvonne and Lemar were born. And our daddy was such an honorable man. He didn’t want Sadie or Mama to be disgraced.”
“How can you say he was an honorable man when he not only committed adultery, but he took advantage of his housekeeper?” Theron’s gaze darkened; his brow wrinkled.
Clarice’s eyes widened in horror. “He didn’t take advantage—”
“Mr. Sam and Mama loved each other,” Yvonne cut in quickly.
“You can’t possibly believe that,” Theron said. “No matter what Grandma told you—”
“Mr. Sam told me.” Yvonne met her son’s gaze without blinking an eye. “Before he died, he told me that he’d cared deeply for Miss Mary Rose, but that my mama had been the love of his life.”
“It’s true,” Clarice said. “But even after Mama died, Daddy couldn’t marry Sadie. That was back in the late forties and interracial marriages were illegal.”
“Uncle Lemar
was
Lisette’s half brother.” Theron closed his eyes.
“You’re tiring yourself out.” Yvonne caressed his cheek.
“There was no love affair between Lisette and Lemar,” Clarice said. “They knew they were brother and sister. And they’d been friends all their lives, since they were little children. They had a special fondness for each other. But nothing sexual. Not ever.”
“Why didn’t y’all tell the sheriff about this during the Belle Rose massacre investigation?” Theron opened his eyes and pinned his mother with his sharp gaze.
“I did,” Yvonne said. “I told him, but he acted like he didn’t believe me. He told me that I would say anything to clear my brother’s name.”
“And months later, when I was able to, I collaborated what Yvonne told Sheriff Bendall.” Tears trickled down Clarice’s cheeks. “But nobody would pay any attention to either of us. The sheriff said it didn’t make any difference, that even if Lisette and Lemar were half siblings, that only made their affair all the more abhorrent.”
“The sheriff didn’t want to hear the truth,” Theron said. “He wanted Uncle Lemar branded a killer.”
“But why—” Yvonne said.
“Did you call Jolie?” Theron asked.
“I called her,” Clarice said. “She’s on her way here. And she said to tell you that y’all have a new ally.”
“Who?”
“Well, Max, of course,” Clarice replied.
Jolie and Max had just left the Sumarville Police Department when her cell phone rang. The moment she had heard Aunt Clarice’s voice, she immediately thought of Theron, knowing that her aunt was probably at the hospital.
“Come quickly, dear girl. Our Theron is talking. And wanting to see you.”
When she’d told Max the good news, they had rushed to Desmond County General. Just as they arrived, a red Taurus pulled out of a parking place right in front of the entrance. Max whipped his Porsche into the empty slot, then killed the motor. When Jolie reached for the door handle, he leaned across the console and grabbed her wrist. Glancing over her shoulder, she glared at him.
“What?”
“It’s not going to work,” he said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The silent treatment you’ve been giving me. All the way into town and from the police station over here to the hospital. You haven’t said anything except to answer yes or no when I spoke to you.”
“What is there to say?” She yanked on her wrist. He released her. “We agreed that I hate you and that nothing else has changed just because we seem to have the hots for each other.”
“So, your plan is to ignore it and it’ll go away?”
“Yeah, something like that.” She opened the door and got out, then headed toward the hospital entrance, not waiting on Max.
He got out, locked the Porsche, and caught up with Jolie in the lobby. Falling into step beside her, he easily kept up with her fast-paced walk as she headed for the elevators. She watched him in her peripheral vision, thankful that he didn’t look at her or try to touch her. Learning about his ongoing affair with Eartha Kilpatrick had given her the perfect excuse to reject him. Putting another woman between Max and her own desperate desire for him was the best solution she could think of at the time. Actually, she wasn’t nearly as upset about Max’s “mistress” as she pretended. She hadn’t actually thought a man such as he would be celibate. Hell, sexuality practically oozed from his pores.
Jolie punched the UP arrow and waited. Almost instantly the elevator doors opened and three people emerged, leaving the interior empty. Max followed her into the elevator, then punched the floor number for the ICU. A deafening silence hung between them. Within minutes, the elevator doors opened and Jolie bolted out into the hall and practically ran toward the ICU. As eager as she was to see Theron, her hectic escape had more to do with her not wanting to be alone with Max, even for one more minute.
She found Yvonne, Aunt Clarice, and Nowell Landers in the ICU waiting room. The moment she entered, Yvonne and Clarice stood and rushed toward her.
“Don’t upset him when you see him. He’s already upset enough,” Yvonne said. “He says that he can identify all three men who attacked him. Chief Harper is on his way here to personally take Theron’s statement.”
Jolie grasped Yvonne’s hand. “I’m going to tell him what happened to me and to Max. He needs to know everything that I know, including the fact that someone killed Ginny Pounders to keep her quiet.”
“I understand that you have to tell him.” Yvonne squeezed Jolie’s hand. “Just try your best not to let him get too excited. He may be able to talk now, but he’s still got a long way to go until he’s fully recovered.”
Clarice put her arm around Yvonne’s shoulders. “Jolie cares about Theron. She’s not going to do anything to harm him.” Clarice glanced at Max, who stood just outside the open doorway. “You must go in with her to see Theron. The nurses shooed us out because he got so agitated, and they asked that when you arrived, for y’all to wait until the next visiting time.”
“When will that be?” Max asked.
“Not for another hour,” Yvonne replied. “But Theron demanded to see Jolie immediately. He threatened to tear the hospital down, brick by brick, if he wasn’t allowed to see her as soon as she got here.”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t keep him waiting.” Max’s gaze met Jolie’s. She nodded agreement. “Let’s go see if they’ll let us in.”
While Jolie told him all about Ginny Pounders’ murder, her own narrow escape, and Max being shot, Theron noticed the way Max hovered over Jolie, like some sort of protective guardian. He wanted to ask her what was going on between her and her stepbrother, but he could hardly voice the question with Max in the room.
“Thanks for hiring the bodyguard,” Theron said. “I can pick up the tab myself. Just have the agency send the bills to me.”
“Let me worry about the bills,” Max told him. “You worry about getting well.”
“Max is right.” Jolie sat in a chair at Theron’s bedside, his hand held firmly in hers. “We’ll take care of everything. You just concentrate on recovering. Max and I aren’t going to stop digging until we find out what really happened at Belle Rose that day. He’s as convinced as we are that Lemar didn’t kill my mother and aunt.”
Theron’s gaze locked with Max’s. “You’re going to take care of Jolie, aren’t you? You won’t let anything happen to her?”
“Keeping her safe is my top priority,” Max said.
Jolie snapped her head up and glared at Max.
“If you let her get hurt, you’ll have to answer to me,” Theron warned him. “After all, she and I are…we’re like family.”
“I understand.” Max nodded, then settled his gaze on Jolie, who instantly glanced away.
“You’ll keep me informed every step of the way, won’t you?” Theron asked.
“You’ll know what we know,” Jolie promised. “After all, you’re the one who started the ball rolling. This is your case. Max and I are just going to do the legwork.”
“Be careful,” Theron cautioned. “Don’t take any unnecessary chances.”
“Look who’s talking,” Jolie kidded him.
“Yeah, and see where it got me.”
A tall and commanding middle-aged black nurse entered the cubicle. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask y’all to leave. Chief Harper is here to take Mr. Carter’s statement, and I will not allow half of Sumarville in here at one time.”
Jolie stood, leaned over, and hugged Theron very gently and very carefully, then kissed his cheek. “You behave yourself and don’t give the nurses too hard a time.”
Theron grasped her wrist. “Be careful and don’t do anything foolish.” He almost ended his sentence by calling her cousin. It would take awhile to get used to thinking of the Desmonds as family. His mother’s family.
That night Max and Jolie gathered the clan, including a sulking Mallory, in the front parlor. Jolie couldn’t help wondering how they’d all react to being questioned, especially Georgette and Parry. After all, it was possible, wasn’t it, that one of them knew the truth, that one of them had been responsible for the murders?

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