A Cold Day in Hell (14 page)

“Leave me alone.”

“Hit me,” he said.

Gracie’s skin turned cold. Then she heated up inside.

Chuck took her by the throat and hauled her against him, dragged her breasts back and forth across the hair on his chest. “I told you to hit me.” He let her go and took a step backward.

A beat set up in Gracie’s temples, she felt it in her throat, heard it in her ears. She rubbed her hands together, then pushed him.

His body didn’t shift. “This isn’t the woman I knew,” he said, sneering at her. “The woman I knew could hit hard enough to make me mad. She made me mad enough I had to take her apart. And we both enjoyed that.”

“I like to make you happy.” She crooked a strong leg and jackknifed her heel into his ribs. He flinched, let out a sharp breath, but didn’t try to touch her. A gradual smile took over his expression.

All the saliva in her mouth had drained away. She sweated. And she slapped him with her right hand, then with her left, the fingers spread, the impact shooting through her wrists. Both blows landed just above the waist, at his sides. There would be marks. Gracie looked into his face—that’s where they never made marks. Any bruises must be where clothes covered them.

She toppled over, knocked off balance by a single, unexpected shove. On her knees, Grace lunged at his legs with her fists.

Chuck grabbed both of her wrists and stood with a foot clamped on either side of her knees. “You know what to do,” he told her. “Do it.”

He thrust his pelvis against her face. His erection forced against black cotton briefs…and Gracie’s mouth. And she glanced up only once at the way he threw his head back and the veins strained in his neck.

Nipping, sucking, she worked over him until the cotton was sodden and Chuck breathed in sobs. She felt him start to go over the edge and thumped her mouth against him.

Abruptly, he released her arms, stepped back and got rid of the briefs, then he lifted her, rotated her, dropped her on the bed and opened his mouth on her. Gracie shuddered, twisted her hips. “I can’t,” she panted. “Come here, Chuck.” She had never met another man with a tongue like his.

The first ripple of her climax started. Grinning, Chuck lifted his head and flipped her onto her belly.

“Don’t stop now,” Gracie cried.

He slapped her bottom; slapped it again and again. “I won’t stop, baby. We’ve only just started.”

Gracie teetered, awash in the one pain she welcomed. “I’ll help you get what you want,” she cried. “You tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I’ll always do what you want.” Agitation built until she thrashed around, reaching for him.

He stopped her with one stab of hot, hard flesh. “Now we’re singing the same song. It’s all about Chuck because you like it that way. Now move with me,” he said on a hiss, and their rhythm set up as perfectly as if no years had passed since the last time.

Gracie’s laughter came in jagged shrieks.

T
ime to change the balance of power.

He who thinks he calls all the shots needs an attitude adjustment.

Once Eileen left Finn’s third-story offices in the Oakdale Mansion, she rode his elevator to the ground floor, then ran up a single flight of stairs to the open balcony surrounding the second floor. A few specialty shops, small professional offices, a coffee shop and a bistro occupied the commercial spaces there.

From a table by the balcony railing outside the coffee shop, she had a good view of both the entrance to the building and Finn’s elevator door.

Visions of how she’d blurted out details of the shooting at Angel’s, and where she’d been when it took place, brought blood rushing into her face yet again.

She seethed. Angel and Finn, or probably just Angel, had set her up.

Angel’s motorcycle stood in a parking spot in front of the mansion. Convenient. She could see it from where she was and if she had to sit outside the coffee shop until morning, she didn’t intend to leave until she had confronted Mr. DeAngelo, alone.

He was too sure of himself. All that silently observant, distant confidence—his face for the world—brought him the respect of most. Well, Eileen was confident, too, and with the way he must have talked Finn into getting her to the Duhon offices today, he’d stepped over the line.

He would wither under her cleverly controlled rage. She’d make sure he knew it was there, but she’d practice a little poker face of her own.

She kicked a balcony railing, hard, and grabbed for her foot. Damn it, now she’d probably broken a toe.

The waitress, Mary-Jo, refilled Eileen’s coffee cup. “I love this time of year,” the woman said, wiping her free hand on her bright orange apron. “The place looks like the North Pole. And I never get tired of the music.”

A decorated tree stood in the center of the main floor and lighted garlands draped the balcony handrails. Tinsel and glitter adorned every spare inch.

“It’s pretty,” Eileen said, grateful for the diversion.

“The fair’s next weekend,” Mary-Jo said, a big smile brightening her round face. “I’m lookin’ forward to that. I saw your boy over on Main Street working on the decorations. It’s really going to be a show. They’re putting up a Christmas village.”

“Emma Duhon’s in charge so it’ll be something,” Eileen said. “I’m glad Aaron picked up some extra hours over there. He needs new shocks on that old Impala of his. I’ll never be able to complain that he isn’t a worker.”

“He’s a nice boy.” Mary-Jo patted Eileen’s shoulder and her look communicated that, like everyone else in Pointe Judah, she knew Aaron had been through his troubles but he was okay now.

“Thanks,” Eileen said.

“He’s a looker, too, and mature. Looks older than sixteen or seventeen. It’s a good thing he takes after your family. He could be Finn’s brother.”

Eileen didn’t say,
much younger,
or mention that Finn didn’t wear his dark, curly hair slicked back into a tail. “Don’t you tell Aaron that. He’s already got a big head.”

Mary-Jo moved to another table. Aaron was doing well. What did worry Eileen was the possibility that Chuck could shake their son’s determination to get the best education he could. “Get through high school, then go on the rigs,” Chuck used to tell him. “More schooling is a waste of time when you can be making good money.” Not for the first time, she puzzled over Chuck being in Pointe Judah on a so-called break when he had lived for his big paychecks and to throw money around with cronies, for so long.

Emma Duhon pushed open the front door on the floor below and came in. Eileen hoped she got pleasure out of the tree that worm, Finn, had used as bait to get Eileen to his suite.

Emma glanced up and spotted Eileen. What were the chances? Eileen didn’t feel much like talking and shrank back a bit, but it was too late, so she reversed directions and waved.

Promptly, Emma climbed the stairs. Her honey-colored hair stood out in tight curls. She looked healthy. She looked happy. And she looked very pregnant.

“You shouldn’t be climbing all those stairs,” Eileen said, leaning to kiss Emma’s cheek when she arrived. “You’ve had a shock.”

Emma’s expression turned serious. “That’s a problem. I’m still looking over my shoulder everywhere I go. But I’m as healthy as a horse—no thanks to that pervert. I need some coffee before I face Finn’s hovering.”

“Hovering, huh?” Eileen smiled. “It isn’t easy to think of that big, tough brother of mine hovering over anything—except you. You make him so happy.”

“He makes me ecstatic,” Emma said. “He fusses too much is all.”

Mary-Jo came with her carafe and a mug and poured for Emma. Eileen didn’t miss the curious glance Mary-Jo gave Emma. The rumor machine had been working overtime.

“Did you see that?” Emma muttered as soon as they were alone. “The way Mary-Jo looked at me? Everyone thinks I made it up about that man. I won’t argue about it, but I’m going to track him down.”

Alarmed, Eileen put a hand on the other woman’s wrist. “Please, let Matt take care of things. Finn won’t let this drop.”

“Mmm.” Emma didn’t look convinced. “We’ll see.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here?” Eileen said. Emma was the closest friend she had and they shared most things.

“Sure I am. What are you doing here? Are you rolling in so much dough you can afford to close Poke Around for an afternoon in the middle of the Christmas rush?”

Eileen laughed. “Suky-Jo is working for me full-time now. And one of the nice things about having old friends move their salon next door to the shop is that it’s easy for Frances or Lynette, or one of their girls, to keep an eye on things if both Suky-Jo and I have to go out.” A walk-through had been built between the gift shop and the hair salon and the arrangement worked well. It certainly increased business for both shops.

Originally Lynette had opened a nail salon in a tiny group of shops off Main Street. That had been years earlier and business had boomed. Then Frances, a hairstylist, became her partner and the business eventually outgrew the space. Moving to the much bigger shop next to Poke Around had been perfect, even if Eileen didn’t always love the music they tended to “share.”

She felt Emma watching her and looked up.

“You haven’t said why you’re here,” Emma said.

Eileen gave a brief explanation, skirting the bathtub details but including the way she’d been ambushed by Finn and Angel. She didn’t mention the surprise tree.

“Whoa,” Emma said and left her lips parted. She leaned forward. “Hold it right there. A shooting at Angel’s and you were there? This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Eileen’s brain moved fast. “Angel’s been in law enforcement. But you know that. He wanted to do some investigating himself before the place was overrun, so he kept quiet about it.”

“And told you not to say anything?”

She felt trapped. “I could tell it was important to him to buy some time.”

“Threats to me, a shooting at Angel’s. Could they somehow be connected?” Emma said.

“I don’t know. But this isn’t a very big place so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“You must have figured Matt would have to know eventually,” Emma said. “What got you so mad about being there when he was told?”

She breathed deeply. “I didn’t like being brought to Finn’s without knowing Matt would be there.”

“Why?”

Why?
“I just don’t like being manipulated.” She’d die if the sex-in-the-tub story became town gossip. How they would all love it!

“You’ve been avoiding Angel,” Emma said.

“How do you know?”

“Finn and Angel talk about most things.”

Eileen didn’t think that was a comforting idea. “Do they? Did anyone mention to you that Chuck’s decided to turn up again and make trouble?”

“I know he’s here and making nice with you.”

“He says he wants to be a father to Aaron. At the same time he tells me I should stay home to be there for Aaron—as if his son was seven rather than almost seventeen. And he more or less told me to stay away from Angel. Can you believe the man’s nerve? I don’t know why he’s here. We’re divorced and that’s never going to change. He’s out of my life.”

Emma settled her hands on her belly and Eileen could see the baby moving. “He may think he can get back together with you,” Emma said.

“Don’t say that,” Eileen told her. “It makes me sick to think about it.”

“Okay.” Emma moved her chair closer to Eileen’s and looked her in the eye. “Do you care for Angel?”

Eileen swallowed and pursed her lips.

“Don’t give me the silent treatment,” Emma said. “Tell me the truth.”

“Yes, I do. But that doesn’t mean I’m not worried about that, too. I haven’t always made…Oh, I might as well be honest. I’ve made poor choices in life. I don’t want to make another one.”

“You think Angel would be a poor choice?” Emma’s eyebrows rose.

“
No,
probably not.” Eileen tried not to think of the night at his place, and failed. “Anyway, who says either of us are thinking of doing any choosing? We’re mature people. We’d think carefully about anything like that—if it was ever a question.”

“Right,” Emma said, her glance sliding away. “So, I’ll ask my question in a different way. Why are you sitting here?”

“I’m having coffee.”

“Don’t be smart with me, girlfriend. You don’t sit around in this place. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

“Okay. But if you tell anyone I said so, I’ll deny it. I’m waiting for Angel to leave the offices. He’s got a lot of explaining to do.”

Emma smiled and the effect was wicked. “The gauntlet is going down. Goody. That’s a great start. Our house is empty if you want to go there and talk.” The switch to an innocent air wasn’t convincing.

“I’m sure Finn would love it if we took over your place,” Eileen said. “But thanks, anyway. I do wish there was somewhere we could go and be sure we wouldn’t be interrupted. It’s hard to be anonymous and private in a town this size.”

“You could get a suite at Damalis’s on Rice Street,” Emma said, grinning now. “Of course, there would be questions about that. Then there’s the Roll Inn, but—”

“Stop,” Eileen said, chuckling. “The day hasn’t come when I seek out motels with hourly rates. Thanks for the idea anyway. You’d better go to Finn before he sends out a search party.”

Emma wrinkled up her nose. “I know. Shall I tell Angel you’re waiting for him here?”

“Don’t you dare,” Eileen said.

“Well, if you don’t get down there, he’ll be on his bike and you’ll miss him.”

Eileen looked through the railings, saw Angel leaving the elevator and shot from her chair. “Later,” she called back to Emma. “Behave yourself. Love you!”