Plagiarized (24 page)

After my realization, that Keegen was a lost cause, I just stared at the Oriental rug and wished for it to be over. I couldn’t deal with his attitude any longer and just wanted him to leave.

“Never,” Keegen shouted and got up to leave.

Finally,
I thought. But then heard myself asking, “Why do you hate me so much?”

Keegen stopped walking and stood with his back to me. Then he slowly turned around and I saw it. It was just a flash across his eyes, and had I not been looking so closely, I would have surely missed it. It was a look of complete turmoil, the look of someone in complete and utter love, a love that is not returned.

He ran his hand through his hair a couple of times and then finally spoke. “Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?” he directed the question at me.

I slowly nodded and got up to follow him, even though he didn’t wait for me. He continued his long strides out the front door and I had to pretty much run to catch up. Once we were both out on the porch, I shut the front door quietly and then gestured to a couple of chairs in the seating area.

We both sat down and just stared at each other for what seemed like forever, but in all actuality, it was just mere seconds. I realized then that if I had allowed myself, I probably could have loved this man. I knew that he was a good man, deep down in my heart.

“Why do you hate—”

“I don’t hate you!” he shouted. “I don’t…” His voice now a whisper. “It’s quite the opposite, in fact.” He laughed and shook his head.

“I don’t understand. In there, you acted like you couldn’t stand me, like you wanted me to be locked up—”

“Haven’t you heard, Sage? There is no difference between love and hate. They’re the same goddamn thing, derived from the same goddamn emotion. I don’t fucking hate you. I fucking love you.” He grabbed my face and kissed me aggressively.

I fought him, but he held on relentlessly.

“That is what I feel for you!” Both of us were breathing hard, from the lack of air we had been able to consume during the kiss.
Lie!

“I still care for you, too, Keegen. It just can’t work between us.” I grabbed his hand and held on despite him trying to pull away.

“I don’t understand. He’s eighteen fucking years old! He’s a kid. How can you even stand to fuck him?”

“He’s a man, Keegen. You know everything he’s been through in his life. He’s been groomed to do certain things once he turns the magic age. He is every bit as much of an adult as you are.”

He begrudging nodded. “He always stole my toys when I was younger, too.”

I thought I saw a small smile emerge from his lips and that made me feel better about not returning his love. “Can’t you talk to, Missy?” I pleaded one more time.

He shook his head. “No, this is something I don’t want to get involved in, Sage. I refuse to get involved. I will always love my brother and if he chooses to be with you, I’ll put up with you, but that is all. You will mean nothing to me except being my brother’s fuck buddy. Do you understand?” He didn’t wait for me to answer; he just got up and strode to his car.

I watched him drive away, pleading with him to come back and decide to help me, but he didn’t. It devastated me that he wouldn’t help me, but I was still grateful for the conversation we had been able to have.

I slowed my breathing and then got up on my bare feet to go back inside.

Once I arrived back inside, I was happy to see that brunch was served. I could definitely eat something now. My stomach was rolling with hunger.

Craig and his mom idly chitchatted during lunch. I was actually grateful for the distraction, even though I didn’t contribute to the conversation. I just let my thoughts wander to the events of the last two days. I couldn’t believe everything that had transpired in such a short amount of time.

I hadn’t checked my ranking in a while, I wondered if I was still on the bestselling list on Amazon. What a collection of circumstances? Had I achieved that status during any other time, I would be dancing on the rooftop of some famous building, in one of my fabulously short and sexy outfits. But instead, I was fighting for my innocence, my bestselling status all but forgotten.

I still didn’t think I did anything wrong by taking Missy’s idea. She was always coming up with ideas or schemes, which was the way it had been our entire lives. No way would she become an author, the likelihood of that happening was like me remaining celibate. Not going to happen.

Plus, authors were always getting ideas from people, circumstances, or situations. So how was me taking an idea from her and running with it any different? To me, it wasn’t. It was the same fucking thing.

“Don’t you, Sage?”

I was suddenly brought back to the present. “I’m sorry?” I asked Craig.

“Don’t you think it would be fun to just get away from it all?”

“You feel the need to actually ask me that?”

He laughed. “That’s not really what I asked, but I’m not repeating what I initially asked you. We’ll talk about it at a later time. Alone.”

I nodded, completely fine with that.

We were just finishing up brunch when the door rang once again. Guest number two, the lawyer must be here.

Mrs. Marten got up to greet her guest and Craig and I moved into the living room. She joined us there in no time with an older, distinguished gentlemen trailing behind her.

“This is Douglas Coppenhagen,” Mrs. Marten started the introductions.

“Nice to meet you,” I said and held out my hand, suddenly nervous.

He nodded and took a seat next to Mrs. Marten.

“Well, young lady. You have definitely gotten yourself into a world of trouble. Let me tell you what I’ve discovered during my investigation. They are charging you with involuntary manslaughter, which usually carries a sentence of five to ten years.”

I felt the breath leave my body and black dots started to dance in front of my eyes. I felt someone beside me, presumably Craig, push down my head between my knees and tell me to breathe evenly.

I tried, I really did, but my breaths were coming out in short pants no matter what I did. I finally felt Craig slip a pill and then a glass of water into my hands. I took the pill, knowing immediately it would help me and not hurt me. I put my head back against the sofa with my eyes closed, trying to maintain the even breathing, and regain control of my faculties.

Once I felt better, I opened my eyes and the murmured conversation between the lawyer and Mrs. Marten ceased.

“Welcome back, my dear. Are you ready to continue now?” Mr. Coppenhagen asked me directly.

“Yes, of course. I apologize for the delay.”

“I was under the impression you were aware of the charges, so it is me, my dear, who apologizes for blurting them out in that way.”

“Yes, I was aware. It’s just hearing it again was frightening. I didn’t do anything!”

“We will get to that. I have some information I want to share with you first.”

I nodded. Craig grabbed my hand in solace.

“They would like to charge you with the charges I mentioned before, but they don’t have the evidence. They have only circumstantial evidence, not anything else conclusive. They are grasping at straws to solve this crime. The family of Bradley Camron is influential and has always been after the police to find a suspect. The police force is facing the additional pressures now that the news of your new book has been splashed everywhere. I’m sure that is where this newest charges are stemming from and it will not ever die out, not until someone pays for Bradley’s murder. That is what we are facing. We need to come up with a lesser charge, perhaps the district attorney will offer a plea deal?”

“I cannot plead guilty to murder. I didn’t
do
anything!” I said with pent up torment.

“Well, it happens all the time. You weigh the evidence stacked up against you and decide what your chances are either way. It’s much like a game of cards. You have to guess what cards the house holds and compare it to your very own hand.”

“What about the pre-paid phone or the visits to the college?”

“Yes, there is that. However, that doesn’t prove that you killed a man. They do have a witness who has come forward that says she saw you leaving the apartment building on the day of the murder.”

“That’s impossible. I wasn’t there on that day.”

We continued to talk about the different variations that might happen, but there’s no way one can prepare enough for something like this. No way at all.

We decided that it would be best to turn myself in for questioning the very next morning.

I don’t think I had ever been so scared in my life.

After Craig and I said our goodbyes to the lawyer, we all decided to eat a quick dinner and then make an early night of it. The lawyer was there until after six in the evening, so it had been a long day.

When Craig and I were finally in his room, I collapsed on the bed, feeling completely spent.

“Have a shower with me,” Craig pleaded. “It will make you feel better, and I can think of something else that might make you relax as well.”

I smiled at him and took his hand as he led me to his humongous shower. It was easily big enough for six people and even had a bench along one of the walls. It was a gorgeous shower and convenient for our sexual needs.

I let out a moan as I stepped under the hot spray; the water was so hot that I could see the steam rise from it. I was in the middle of washing my hair when Craig stepped in to join me. I felt his arms wrap around me as he adjusted the second shower head on the opposing wall.

I felt his arousal against my back and moaned as I rubbed my ass against him wantonly. I wanted him, needed him; I was desperate for a release of any kind. I wanted to escape my current thoughts and knew that Craig could easily provide that for me.

I felt the heat from Craig’s body as I basked in it. I tried not to think that this could very well be the last time we were able to be this intimate before my meeting tomorrow, and after my meeting with the police, who knew what would happen? It was anyone’s guess at this point.

I moaned as his hands rubbed my nipples with soap, he rubbed them past the point when they were already clean, but I didn’t care. I urged him on with my breathy sighs, it felt so good. He would alternate between rubbing them, then swirling his fingers around, and he loved to catch me by surprise by pinching them roughly, which induced screams. He pinched so hard it hurt, but caused zings all the way down to my pussy. I was so wet by the time he switched his attention to my pussy, but I knew he wouldn’t fuck me yet. This was slow Craig, the one who feasted on every orifice of my body before finally taking me. He would be making me wait awhile yet, which I was fine with.

He worshipped my body with complete abandon as I gave myself to him, letting go as the waves of pleasure took over my body. He kissed his way down my stomach and then sat me on the practical bench as I begged him to continue. “Please, please!”

He finally made it to the apex of my thighs; it had felt like forever before he licked my sensitive nub, causing my thighs to shake in anticipation. He took turns licking and nibbling it, and then would throw me off completely by ignoring it completely.

He licked my lips and then down to my forbidden zone, which made me clench my cheeks. “No,” I moaned.

He then traveled, with delightful nibbles, back up to my clit. Finally! I started to thrust against his mouth, in silent begging to allow me release. As soon as I would start to get more aggressive with my thrusts, he would back off and stop his licking. It was driving me insane.

I finally had it. I couldn’t take any more; I grabbed his face and kissed him. Thrusting my tongue deep into his mouth, he immediately began to rub his tongue against mine. I loved the feeling and it immediately produced sparks between us. I could taste myself on him, which made the kiss that much more enjoyable. Our tongues danced as our bodies intertwined. My body was humming in pleasure, but was on the verge of screaming due to the impending release that was dangling before my eyes like a carrot. I needed it and wanted it so badly, but he refused to help me find the release point.

Then he stopped everything, all touching and kissing altogether. He started to wash his body and then got out. I looked after him with pleading eyes, but he refused to meet them.

I finished washing myself as thoughts of doubt flooded my system. Why had he left me like that? Why hadn’t he finished me off and then finished off himself? It was a quandary.

I dropped my towel and left it on the bathroom floor. I walked into his bedroom, not knowing what I would find. His behavior in the shower had been so strange.

He was lying, buck-ass naked, on his bed.

“Why did you leave?” I asked him quietly as I crawled up gently on the bed to join him.

“I just couldn’t take it.”

“Take what? What did I do?”

“I couldn’t take the feelings of love that overwhelmed me. I love you so much, it hurts. I feel like I won’t be able to breathe with you gone. Thinking that there’s a chance of losing you for a period of time is killing me.”

I moved forward and began to kiss him. “Don’t”—I kissed his nose —“think”—I kissed each eye as his eyelashes fluttered—“of”—then finally, his mouth—“that. Please, Craig. Let’s just enjoy each other for tonight.”

He finally nodded and then kissed me passionately, thrusting his tongue within my mouth and rubbing it against all the walls of my cheeks and then my tongue. His kisses were desperate and seeking. I moved down his chest and kissed his chest, then his washboard stomach. Finally, I reached my prize and took his entire length into my mouth. I had grown used to his size and had practiced accommodating him.

He groaned as the tip of him hit the back of my throat. I took his cock out of my mouth and swirled my tongue over his tip, paying special attention of his sensitive groove at the top. It pleased me when pearls of his release formed and I lapped them up with gusto. I loved the taste of him and experiencing that with him. Swallowing his load was one of my favorite things because it was the ultimate gift of control, but I wouldn’t be doing that tonight. No, tonight I wanted him to fuck me hard and make me come that way. At least that’s what I hoped for.

He thrust deeply into my mouth, and I let him have the control for a couple minutes before taking it back. He finally had enough of me controlling him, so he flung me backward amongst the pillows. He went down on me and started his torturous licking once again. I tried to scoot downward so that he would suck on my clit, but he knew my tactics and smiled, then averted himself away, not letting me win.

I begged and pleaded, to no avail, and then he finally took my clit into his mouth, sucking it eagerly, lighting a fire within. He lay back against the bed and pulled me on top of him.

“You fuck me,” he whispered and held his dick so that I could easily take it inside me. I lowered myself on top of his tip and then continued down his length slowly, teasing him with every centimeter. I could tell he was holding back the passion he felt. He wanted to grab me and pull me down so I would take him in all the way, but he was behaving nicely. Letting me fuck him, like he said, despite the fire that showed brightly in his eyes.

I was halfway down his shaft when I suddenly let my pussy muscles relax and took him deep within me all at once. That produced a groan from Craig and he squeezed his eyes closed.

“You’re killing me; it feels so good,” he groaned.

I laughed a nice, carefree laugh. It was always good fucking Craig, but that night it was fun. I don’t know why it was different, but it was. I don’t know if it was because of his earlier words of love so I no longer had to wonder how he felt or what. But this time was definitely different.

I started to move my hips, feeling and thinking of nothing except where our bodies were joined. All the pleasure was at the apex of my thighs. I moved my hips as I fucked him harder. He put his hands on my hips and helped me fuck him even deeper. I rubbed my clit against his pubic bone with every single thrust. I was at the point that I could come at any moment, but suddenly didn’t want to. I wanted to postpone my orgasm so that I could revel in the enjoyment I was feeling a bit longer.

I finally couldn’t hold off any longer and let go, abandoning the feelings of pleasure as they were magnified into something much more intense. I felt the strong, passionate feelings penetrate me deep within as I finally let go and felt the explosions of my orgasm.

The combination of my screams and his groans reverberated off the walls as we each basked in our pleasure-filled moment.

We lay quietly in each other’s arms, neither of us speaking, for words weren’t important. What we had felt was way more important than any words either of us could utter.

***

The next morning, I arrived at the police station with my attorney. Craig had wanted to come and nothing I could say would dissuade him. Finally, he had listened to the attorney when he had explained how it would look.

So, there I was, meeting with the homicide detective, once again. Only this time, I had the safety net of my attorney. I was fully prepared to be led to jail that day; I knew that the possibility was large, no matter how daunting.

“We’re here to see Detective Prowl,” my attorney stated to the policewoman manning the front desk.

“Let me call him for you. Have a seat over there,” she pointed to a row of chairs that flanked the front window.

We sat quietly until I heard footsteps and looked up and into the eyes of Detective Prowl. “Mrs. Roby,” he called out.

I got up and my attorney followed suit. My attorney had let him know that we would be coming in this morning, so he was waiting for us.

We followed Detective Prowl down the long hallway. With each step I had taken, the nerves kicked up another notch until my entire body was wracked with them. It was a different station than I was at the other day. That station felt like neutral ground—a city not connected to the crime. The hallways I was walking through, the desks I was passing, and the interrogation room I was being led to was in enemy territory. They were in the very town where a man had died, and where I was being charged with the crime.

Even though it was a different room, it still looked the same as the last. Sterile walls, cold metal chairs, and a table in the center. It was identical to the room that had plagued my dreams for two nights already. I just wanted the nightmare to be over with. I was ready to wake up and start my life with Craig.

Detective Prowl read me my Miranda rights; he said it customary even though I hadn’t been under arrest. I didn’t know what that meant, so I looked at my attorney for help. He nodded that everything was okay, so I acknowledged my rights and sat down.

“We are only here to answer some questions,” my attorney reiterated to the detective as we sat down across the table from the very intimidating detective. It was a good thing my attorney was also intimidating looking, even though it didn’t seem to faze Detective Prowl one bit.

“Yes, that was the plan. But I have heard back from the DA this morning. Plans have changed a bit. The arrest warrant is being processed for involuntary manslaughter, as well as corruption of a crime scene, tampering with evidence, and fleeing the scene of a crime.”

“Whoa, wait!” I shouted, standing from my seat.

Mr. Coppenhagen tugged on my arm in warning, suggesting I cool it and sit back down.

I did as he silently told me to.

“These charges are bogus and you know it,” Mr. Coppenhagen said calmly. Why the hell was he so calm? My insides were shaking so hard it felt as if an earthquake was going on around me and he sat there as if this was some fucking country club and he was being told the story of
Cinderella
.

“Let me spell this out for you,” the detective said as he opened his file folder and began to pull out pages that had passages highlighted. I noticed the words immediately; they were excerpts from my book. He took them page by page and set them in front of me, pairing it with pictures from the scene as he so-called spelled things out for me. “Here, you write about how you—I mean, Sarah, cleans up after her lover died. And here is the photos of the apartment, wiped clean of prints. Do you know how we can tell it’s been wiped clean? Things like the door handles don’t have a print on them. Door handles always have prints, but not Mr. Camron’s. There are other things that would certainly have prints found, but none were here.” He continued to show me photographs of things that had black powder smeared on them.

“I’m sure there are plenty of books written by James Patterson that has crime scenes wiped clean. Are you planning on questioning him?” I smartly asked. My attorney cleared his throat next to me; I assumed that was a warning, but I didn’t care. I flipped my hair and looked back to the detective.

“If he wrote a book that was identical to an unsolved crime, then absolutely. But you see, he didn’t write about
this
murder; you did. So, as you can see, you’re here, not Mr. Patterson. Back to the evidence.” He pulled out more papers and pictures as I shifted in my uncomfortable metal seat. “You wrote about his foot catching on the rug. And here, you can clearly see the rug with the rolled up edge. You wrote about his head hitting the edge of a TV stand, and here”—he placed a photo in front of me with Mr. Camron’s lifeless face, blood pooled around it, and the edge of a table—“you can see the corner of a TV stand where Mr. Camron hit his head.”