Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4) (41 page)

“Do you fancy takin’
up residence in a jail cell until you change your mind?” Honor quipped, only half-joking. 
It was entirely possible that’s exactly what Zeke would do if he was pushed.

“Not really,” Bree
denied with an easy laugh.  “But seriously Honor, do you consider yourself to
be Zeke’s?”

“Well, no.  Not
exactly.  We’ve never declared exactly what we are to each other. Or I guess
it’s more honest to say that I’ve never declared what
he
is to
me.”

“Why?” Bree asked,
canting her head to the side.

Honor thought about
it for a second before shrugging.  “I reckon because I’ve never been sure what
I wanted to call us.”

“Then until you
do
know what you want to call Zeke, you need to make an effort to see if you can
have similar feelings for anyone else.  I don’t think it would be fair to Zeke
otherwise.”

Honor made a soft
sound of acceptance.  “Now, I’m just gonna need to convince Zeke of that.”

“You’ll do fine.  And
if you don’t, you have my number.  Call me. Despite the threat of
incarceration, I’d still be willing to have a talk with him if it becomes
necessary.  In the meantime, chat with your sisters and have them recommend
some gentlemen to you.  Set up at least three first dates and go have some
fun.  Dinner.  Movies.  A walk through the park.  The 4
^th
of July is
Monday; see the fireworks with someone.  You can do anything, really, as long
as you feel comfortable and safe.”

Honor wanted to laugh
in Bree’s face at the idea that Zeke would allow her to spend the holiday with
anyone other than him, but she nodded instead as the buzzer on Bree’s desk
began to go off.  Calmly, she began collecting her purse and the cup of coffee
she’d brought along with her.  “Wow!  Time flew today. I guess I’ll see you in
a couple of weeks.  Enjoy… where was it again?”

“London, England. 
I’m attending a series of lectures at Oxford.”

Honor smiled.  “How
exciting.  I don’t think I’ve ever been any further away than the Gulf Shores.”

Bree grinned.  “Well,
you never know.  That might need to be a future homework assignment.  There’s a
big world out there, Honor, just waiting for you to take it by the throat.”

Honor laughed and
shook her head as she rose, her light pink shift dress falling around her
knees.  “No.  I’ll leave the taking on the world business to people like
Patience and Maggie.  I prefer the quiet life.  Although, I wouldn’t mind
seeing England or Ireland.  You take care over there.  Bring me back a few
postcards.”

“Absolutely,” Bree
agreed with a firm nod without disturbing a hair in her elegant French twist. 
“But, I have an international calling plan, Honor.  If something comes up and
you need a session, you call me, okay?”

“I will.  Thanks,
Bree,” Honor said softly as Bree walked her toward the door of her office. 
Briskly advancing down the hallway, Honor slowed to wave at the receptionist
behind the desk.  “Have a great holiday weekend, Cheyenne.”

“You, too, Honor! 
Are y’all gonna close the café?”

Honor shook her
head.  “No, but I think all us girls are going to take the day off so there
won’t be any fresh baked goods.  If you wanted an apple pie or anything though,
I could hold one for you at the counter,” she offered.

“Awesome!  My kids
will think you hung the moon for this, lady!  I’ll pick it up at lunch,”
Cheyenne returned happily.

Nodding, Honor pushed
open the door in the reception area, shooting the slightly overweight young man
sitting in one of the waiting room chairs a smile as he looked at her from
behind the frames of his thick glasses.  Vaguely familiar, she tried to place
where she’d met him.  “Hi,” she murmured pleasantly, nodding to him and feeling
a vague sense of déjà vu the longer she gazed at him. 

“Ma’am,” the young
man returned gruffly, barely offering her a sidelong look before averting his
eyes as he looked down at the magazine he gripped with his blunt fingertips,
hunching his rounded shoulders.

Feeling an odd
tightening in her chest the longer she gazed at him, Honor’s mind raced,
struggling to place him in her memories.  She knew she recognized him from
somewhere; she just couldn’t recall how.  Honor knew they hadn’t gone to school
together since the guy was probably a handful of years older than her, but
maybe she’d seen him around one of her sisters.

“David,” Honor heard
Cheyenne call, “You can come on back.  Dr. Daniels is ready for you, hon.”

Honor didn’t
recognize the name and was forced to quickly step to the side as the man all
but leapt from his chair and barreled toward the door leading to their
therapist’s office.  She couldn’t help noticing that he still kept his gaze
down as he sped past her, their shoulders brushing briefly as he speed walked
past her.

  Shaking her head at
the man’s abrupt departure, she shrugged it off.  She didn’t know of anybody
that actually liked counseling.  It was a necessary evil to most patients.  And
as far as that feeling that she somehow knew the guy, she chose to chalk it up
to small town life.  Everybody knew everybody some kind of way in a community
their size.  She figured it would come to her sooner or later why that man
seemed familiar.

A few seconds later,
she stood on the sidewalk outside the office and took a deep breath.  Already
hot, the sun beat down on the top of her head as she headed for her vehicle. 
Sparing a quick glance toward where Deputy Hightower had parallel parked across
the street, she nodded and smiled toward the tall man slouched behind the wheel
of his cruiser.  Jeb Hightower had been assigned as her tail again since Zeke
refused to take any chances with her safety, and she knew the lanky white
officer would be trailing her until she was either back in Zeke’s care or
another member of her family’s custody.  Since the sheriff once again had his
full roster of officers working at the station this week, the hazel eyed deputy
had volunteered to be her shadow again. 

It was just as well. 
At least Honor had grown accustomed to his presence. Mostly silent,
unobtrusive, and slightly shy himself, Deputy Hightower understood that Honor
valued her privacy and kept his own peace most of the time.  They had a good
working relationship and she had learned to be able to relax in his presence. 
Luckily, they both shared an affinity for brainless reality television so they
weren’t completely bored in each other’s company.  Lifting her hand, she
saluted him smartly as she continued toward her own vehicle.

Squinting at the
windshield as she drew closer, she frowned when she spotted a red piece of
construction paper stuffed behind one of her windshield wipers.  Ignoring the
butterflies fluttering in her stomach, she reached out to pull the paper free,
turning it over quickly to scan the typed words, her body going solid as she
read.

Pussycat,
Pussycat!

Where have you
been?

Pussycat,
Pussycat!

I want to
stroke that skin.

Pussycat,
Pussycat!

I’ll lap your
cream.

Pussycat,
Pussycat!

I’ll make you
scream!

Pussycat,
Pussycat!

I’ll fuck your
tail.

Pussycat,
Pussycat!

I’ll make you
wail.

Pussycat, Pussycat!

He may call you
Kitten.

Oh, but
Pussycat, Pussycat!

Our love won’t
stay hidden!

Pussycat,
Pussycat!

Don’t make me
see red.

For Pussycat,
Pussycat!

You’ll end up
dead!

Honor gasped as she
dropped the sickening attempt at poetry with nerveless fingers, her eyes
already scanning the area for a threat as the paper fluttered through the air
to land harmlessly at her feet.  God, she was tired of this!  She’d been
exhausted by the endless fear!  She’d grown weary of the constant dread that
sat like a lead balloon in her belly!  She wanted to be free of the danger. 
She wanted to live her damned life.  And to do that, this had to freaking END!!

“Where are you?” she
screamed into the mostly empty parking lot as furious tears pricked her eyes. 
“Come out and face me, you Son of Satan!” she challenged her unseen terrorist
shrilly as people walking across the street stopped to stare at her.

“Where are you?” she
shrieked again, stumbling as she turned this way and that, trying to locate the
person responsible for countless sleepless nights. 

“Miss Honor?” she
heard Deputy Hightower’s deep voice call as he ran toward her, the thick wavy
locks of his chestnut hair flopping against his forehead.  “What’s going on? 
What happened?”

“
Where is he
?”
Honor shouted.  “Did you see him?  He was here, Jeb!  You had to have looked
right at him!”

“Who?” the deputy
asked blankly.

“The monster that
sent me
that
,” Honor screeched irately, jabbing her finger toward the
pavement where the red piece of construction paper rested on the cement.  She
started to bend and snatch it up, but the deputy quickly stilled her with a
hand on her arm.

“Don’t touch it,” he
ordered.  “Might have some prints on it.”

Shaking her head as
Jeb crouched at her feet to read the perverse poem, Honor fought the rage
bubbling up her windpipe.  “He’s here.  Somewhere!  I feel him,” she bit out,
looking toward the tree line at the back of the lot. 

“I radioed the
station before I got out of the cruiser.  Sheriff’s on his way.  Just hold
tight and take a couple of deep breaths for me and settle down.”

Enraged by the whole
situation, Honor’s eyes became narrow slits.  “Settle down?” She echoed on a
sneer, shoving a hand through her wheat colored tresses as she laughed
hysterically.  “You want me to
settle down? 
You’re kidding, right? 
He’s was freaking
HERE!  And you missed him!!”

Remorse flashed in
the man’s eyes.  “Miss Honor, whoever left this here for you to find must have
done it when a semi stalled in the intersection earlier.  It obscured my view
of the parking lot for a good two minutes.  About the time I got out of my car
to walk across the street, the traffic began to move again.  I’m sorry,” he
apologized solemnly.

Honor’s throat
tightened, clogging with emotions she didn’t want to feel.  “I can’t take it
anymore,” she choked, taking a step back, her bottom meeting the bumper of her
car.  “Do you hear that?” she yelled, her voice agonized.  “You’ve won!  I
can’t do this anymore!  Just come out and do whatever you’re gonna do to me!”
she begged with a desperate cry.

Deputy Hightower rose
in front of Honor, holding his hands out in front of him.  “Honor, Zeke’s gonna
be here real soon.  Just try to hold it together a little longer,” he pleaded
with her.  “Everything’s gonna be alright,” he tried to soothe.

Honor jerked like
she’d been hit as his words hung in the air. “Did you read what he wrote to
me?” she asked harshly as a sob broke her voice.  “Nothing is going to be
alright, Jeb!  That monster wants me dead, but first, he wants to violate me
again!  And, God, he called me Pussycat.   I’d forgotten,” she trailed off, her
voice becoming faint as she paled quickly.  “Oh, God!  One of them called me
that,” she panted as memories began to bombard her. 

~~***~~

 “Hold that
fucking cunt down,” a deep voice snarled as she tried to wrench herself away
from the hands painfully groping her thighs.

“Please, stop!”
she begged, her breathing ragged as she twisted and fought.  “Don’t do this. 
Please!”

“Oh, I love it
when they beg,” another sinister voice moaned.  “Get her shirt off!  I wanna
see those pretty little titties,” Honor heard the voice order as another pair
of hands began to work her sweater up her torso.

“Stop it!” she
screamed, her voice hoarse from her pleas.  “Please don’t hurt me.  Get your
hands OFF me,” she cried, managing to free one of her arms from the
manacle-like grip one of her assailants had on her and raking her nails against
the side of his neck.

“Ah, fuck yeah!”
The ominous voice growled as he ground his pelvis against Honor’s stomach.  “I
fuckin’ love it.  My little pussycat’s got claws for me tonight.” Honor moaned
as she felt his hot breath gust against the side of her face as his lips
touched her ear.  “Hiss and spit all you like, pussycat.  I’m still gonna fuck
your pretty tail tonight.”

~~***~~

Gasping for breath as
she began to sink to the ground, Honor felt a strong arm surround her waist,
holding her steady as the panic welled inside her chest and a scream climbed
its way up her throat. 

It was only when she
felt her body shifted toward another set of waiting arms and a gentle hand
against the back of her head nudging her damp cheek to rest against a soft
flannel shirt that she began to relax, her body instantly recognizing Zeke’s
comforting familiar scent before she heard his steady reassurances vibrating
against her ear.