Repressed (Deadly Secrets) (15 page)

“That wasn’t just a bad dream, and you know it. I don’t have nightmares like that all the time, but when I do, they can be bad. I should have warned you. I thought with you here I wouldn’t . . . ” She shook her head because she knew she was rambling. “I should have known better.”

His finger moved softly over the back of her hand. “When was the last time you had one?”

God, she liked his touch. More than she probably should. “I hadn’t had one for a long time. But then after I moved home, they picked up again.”

“Do you remember them?”

She nodded.

“Always the same, or different?”

“The same. Every time.”

It was stupid. Talking out her nightmares with a shrink had always embarrassed and humiliated her, which was part of the reason she’d thrown in the towel and decided never to see one again. But with Ethan she didn’t feel either of those things. She felt safe. She always felt safe with him.

“It’s always the same. I’m on the outside looking in. Someone’s being hurt, and I can’t do anything about it. I can’t even bring myself to look through the window to see what’s going on. I can just hear it.” She frowned. “Dr. Adams, my last therapist, said it had to do with feelings of inadequacy from childhood. Not being able to control my environment.”

“Like what?”

“Like my parents’ divorce.”

Ethan eased back in his chair, his hand still covering hers on the table. “When was that?”

“Seventeen years ago, I guess. When I was eleven.”

He didn’t say anything, but she saw the skepticism in his eyes. “You don’t think so, do you?”

“I don’t know. Did your parents have a rocky marriage? Any abuse you know of?”

Her parents had argued routinely. Sam remembered numerous nights when she’d climbed into bed with Seth so he could tell her a story to distract her from their yelling. But things hadn’t truly crumbled until her brother had died.

Pain clawed at her chest. The same pain she always felt when she thought about Seth. The same pain she had trouble talking to anyone about, even now.

“No abuse.” Reaching for her coffee so he couldn’t see, she lifted it to her lips and sipped. “My father didn’t even like to set mousetraps. Couldn’t stomach a living thing suffering. But my parents were never truly happy together, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I don’t specialize in dream interpretation, but feelings of loss, being unable to control your surroundings, generally those types of dreams aren’t violent. And the fact you’re on the outside looking in. That’s a completely different issue.”

She nodded. She hadn’t expected him to cure her. Hadn’t expected him to even be here, but he was. For whatever reason, he wanted to help her, and maybe it was time she let someone try. God knew, dealing with it all on her own wasn’t working.

She bit her lip. Contemplated. Finally decided to ask. “So what do you think?”

“I’m not sure, yet. I can do some research on it if you want.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

His hand tightened around hers. “I want to. For you. It’s your call, though. You don’t want me to touch it, and I won’t.”

Her heart thumped wildly as he gazed at her. She’d never told anyone as much as she’d just told him, and to her utter amazement, he wasn’t looking at her as if she were completely nuts. He was looking at her like he still wanted her.

And she wanted to kiss him. Wanted to drag him up on this table and show him with her hands and mouth and body just what that meant to her. But before she could move, he let go of her hand and reached for his fork.

“You need to eat, Samantha. And then I need to think about heading home.”

Home. He was heading home. Leaving, not staying and making love with her like she wanted.

Disappointment came back swift and consuming, pressing like a heavy weight against her chest. “Oh. Sure.”

He scooped up a bite of eggs. “I have some paperwork I’ve been putting off but need to finish.”

Sam gazed down, her appetite long gone, and tried not to let her disappointment show. “Yeah. I have some term papers I should probably get busy grading.”

“Good. Then I won’t feel so guilty when I have to work. After you eat, go get your stuff together and pack a bag.”

Her gaze lifted. “What?”

He glanced over, then his expression softened and he lowered his fork and reached for her hand once more. “You didn’t think I wanted to go back to my empty house alone after last night, did you? I’d stay if I had fresh clothes and my case files. Since I don’t, and there’s already four inches of snow outside, I think it’d just be easier if you came with me. We can spend the weekend at my house. I have to be back in town on Monday, so I’ll drive you back before classes start.”

Sam looked to the windows and the blanket of white covering everything outside. She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts and neuroses, she hadn’t even noticed the snow. “Oh. Um. I have Grimly.”

“He can come too.”

At the sound of his name, Grimly groaned, pushed up to his feet, and wandered over from his spot by the heater. He plopped his big butt down between them on the hardwood floor and wagged his tale with that I’m-so-dumb-I’m-cute look on his face.

Ethan nodded down at the rangy beast. “See. He and I are already good friends.”

Tendrils of excitement and relief pumped through her.

“Don’t say no, Samantha.” Ethan tugged gently on her hand, met her over her eggs, and brushed a gentle kiss against her mouth. “I’ve got a big fireplace, plenty of food in my fridge, and a nice, soft bed. I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.”

Her gaze skipped over his handsome face. Oh, she could so easily get lost in this man. She didn’t want to be alone after last night either, but she was still afraid of what would happen if she went with him. “Ethan, I have nightmares wherever I go.”

“In case you didn’t notice, I don’t scare easy. Besides”—he brushed his thumb over her lips, sending shards of heat straight to her belly—“I kinda liked the way you grabbed on to me last night. Made me feel special.”

“You are.”

His eyes darkened, and he leaned in and kissed her again. Only this kiss wasn’t brief and chaste. This one was deep and filled with so much passion she absolutely melted.

She was taking a big risk here, opening herself to him. More than likely, she’d end up hurt in the end. But when he drew back and smiled, even that wasn’t enough to stop her.

“What do you say?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Good.” He let go of her and went back to his meal with a wink. “Eat up, beautiful. You’re gonna need all your energy for this weekend.”

CHAPTER TEN

Ethan pulled to a stop in front of the run-down trailer on Monday morning. Sunlight glinted off the metal exterior, while tall weeds overpowered a dead lawn that looked as if it hadn’t been mowed in years. A few patches of snow still lingered from Friday night’s storm, but for the most part, it had melted in the weekend’s afternoon sun.

He tossed his sunglasses on the front seat, then climbed out and tucked his keys into the front pocket of his slacks. His body was loose and relaxed from an incredible weekend with Samantha. A smile twisted his mouth as he headed across the cracked cement path toward the front door, remembering the snowball fight they’d gotten into when they’d taken a walk along the river behind his house, then the way they’d warmed each other on the carpet in front of his fireplace. But that smile faded when he thought about the fact that he wouldn’t be seeing her tonight.

He’d dropped her off at work this morning, then spoken to the school counselor about Thomas before heading to the Adler home. Since he had appointments in Portland that afternoon, he was headed back to the city after this meeting, which meant he wouldn’t be around to pop in and tempt her. He’d tried to talk her into driving to his house for dinner tonight after work, but she’d declined, saying she had papers to grade and work she needed to do around her house. And even though his body was still vibrating from that incredible weekend, a tiny place inside him was worried.

There was something she wasn’t telling him. He’d sensed it when they’d had breakfast Saturday morning at her house. Something with her family. Every time he brought up her parents, she changed the subject, as if talking about them was too painful.

Ethan knew all about the terrible things some parents did to their kids. He’d lived it until the age of seven when his alcoholic father had finally died. He’d seen the scars on his brother Rusty’s skin. He heard about it every day in his job. But he had a strong hunch that whatever Samantha was keeping secret had nothing to do with abuse. It was something else. Something he couldn’t quite piece together. Something that kept her from forming attachments to other people. And that, he worried, was a problem.
That
might eventually make her pull away.

Thoughts of her rolled through his mind as he moved up the three rickety steps toward the dirty metal door. A rotten pumpkin occupied the second step, a dead potted plant the third. Ethan took in the stains across the exterior of the trailer and the dingy curtains in the window. Memories of his own childhood flickered in the back of his mind, pulling his thoughts away from Samantha. His back tightened as he lifted a hand and knocked.

Footsteps echoed just before the door opened. A sixtyish woman with curlers in her hair, wearing a dull-yellow housecoat, peeked one eye around the edge of the door. “I know you?”

“I’m Dr. McClane, Mrs. Adler. We spoke on the phone briefly last week. I was hoping you had a few minutes to talk about Thomas.”

The older woman frowned in an obvious sign of disgust. When she pulled the door open farther, he saw the cigarette smoldering in her right hand.

Great. Just what he needed. He hadn’t had a nicotine craving all weekend, and in a minute he’d be enveloped by smoke that would cling to him for the rest of the day.

“Don’t know why you want to talk to me.” She turned, leaving the door open. A black cat mewed and slinked between the woman’s bare ankles. “Come in ’fore you let in all that cold air.”

Ethan pulled the screen open and stepped into the small room. Stale cigarette smoke filled his lungs. A ratty green couch was pushed up against one wall. A recliner covered by a brown-and-orange afghan took up an adjacent space. Dark wood paneling void of any kind of pictures graced the walls, while dull-brown carpet stretched across the floor. There were no personal mementos, no photographs in frames, nothing that made the house a home. And absolutely no sign a teenage boy lived here.

Thomas’s grandmother wandered toward the kitchen and pulled a mug from a cabinet above her head. “You want coffee?” she asked above the sound of the excited applause echoing from the TV as a contestant spun the wheel on
The Price is Right
.

“Sure.” Ethan didn’t really want any, but he figured it had to be better than inhaling her secondhand smoke.

She filled a mug, didn’t bother to ask if he wanted cream or sugar, handed it to him, and sank into the frayed recliner with a harrumph. Picking up the remote, she flipped it to “Mute,” then said, “Go on and say what you came to say. I got a schedule, you know.”

Oh yeah. Definitely a happy home. Just like the one Ethan remembered from his childhood.

Ethan set his cup on a torn copy of
Reader’s Digest
on the scarred coffee table and sat on the end of the couch. “How are things with Thomas here at home?”

Deep lines creased the skin around Mrs. Adler’s mouth as she puffed on her cigarette. “Sleeps in that room there.” She pointed down the hall with the cigarette in her hand, smoke billowing around her. “Grumbles at me in the mornin’s. Always got his nose stuck in some book he shouldn’t be reading. Doesn’t talk much. Weird child, that boy. Then again, I always thought he was a strange one, even when he was little.”

There definitely wasn’t a lot of love radiating from the older woman’s raspy voice. In fact, she sounded downright put out that she’d had to take Thomas in. “Did he talk to you about what happened at the school?”

“The vandalism thing? Yeah, he done tol’ me. Principal called too.” She lifted the cup and sipped. “’Spect I’ll be hearing from more than just them before long though. That boy can’t stay outta trouble. Not sure why they thought the country’d be good for him. You ask me, the country’s just gonna make him bored. And bored’s gonna make him do somethin’ way worse than just a little vandalism.”

Ethan shifted, growing more uncomfortable by the second. “About what happened at the school. You weren’t present when Thomas was questioned regarding the break-in.”

“No. And I don’t plan to be if it happens again, neither. He gets himself into trouble, he can just get himself out of it. I give him a roof and food. I’m doing my Godly duties, but don’t go ’specting me to do any more. Evil’s in that boy.” She narrowed her eyes and pointed at Ethan, the cigarette smoldering between her fingers. “Created in sin, he was. His mother was a she-devil, pure and simple.”

Oh hell. Social services had dumped Thomas here? Yeah, they’d done a great job.

He tried to remain calm and professional, but inside all he wanted to do was shake the old woman. “Are you speaking about your daughter?”

She shot him a disgusted glare before taking another deep drink of her coffee. “No way that woman was my daughter, thank the good Lord.” She puffed on her cigarette again. “She was my sister’s brat. Girl done got herself knocked up, then dropped that baby like a dirty habit and hightailed it out of here faster than a hooker runs from the police. Always was like her to be irresponsible and inconvenient. I knew that baby was cursed—I could see it in his eyes—but my daughter, Maria, thought she could try to save him.”

Mrs. Adler shook her head and blew out a long breath of smoke that swirled through the room. “Boy done ruined her, that’s what he did. Got into all that trouble up in the city until my girl was so full of stress over what he was up to, she wasn’t paying attention and got in that car accident.” Her voice dropped, and her eyes filled with a vacant look as she focused on something across the room. “She done died because of that boy, and he could care less. Has no conscience. No remorse. He killed her, same as if he’d shot her with a gun.”

Ethan leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands so he didn’t reach over and wring the older woman’s neck. No wonder Thomas hadn’t wanted to come back here. And no wonder he had a perpetual chip on his shoulder. “And you’re his last known relative.”

She drew a puff from the cigarette. “Only one will admit to it. Don’t know where his mother is. Probably dead.” She stabbed the cigarette into a full ashtray on the dinged-up table to her left. “Good riddance. I done the Christian thing and did what the state asked me to do. I took the boy in. I’ll give him a place to live so long as he stays out of trouble. But next year when he turns eighteen, he’s gone. He won’t infect me with his evil.”

Her eyes narrowed on Ethan, and she wagged her finger in front of him like a parent scolds a child. “You’d be better off to request another shrink for this boy, Dr. McClane. You mark my words, only bad things happen around him. He can’t help it. It’s inside him. His life started in sin, and it’ll end that way. God will protect me. But what about you?”

“I think I’m pretty safe, Mrs. Adler. Thomas is just a regular kid, one who’s had a little more trouble than others, but not, as you put it, evil.”

“You think, but you don’t know.” Her gaze narrowed to hard, sharp points of darkness. Ones that made Ethan wonder just what she’d seen. And knew. Or was holding back. “In the back of your mind, though, you just ain’t sure. If I were you, Dr. McClane, I’d run while I still can. I’d run long and fast, and I’d never look back.”

Sam walked around her classroom Monday afternoon, picking up pencils and scraps of paper students had left behind. A folded scrap on the floor caught her attention, and she reached down for it. Pink and purple cursive jumped out at her when she opened the note.

Manny Burton is such a hottie.

No, way! Check out the ass on Greg Warsaw.

Each “i” was dotted with a heart, the penmanship flowing and artsy like only teenage girls can do. Sam recognized the handwriting, done by two girls who sat in the back of her Chem I class. They obviously hadn’t been paying attention to the day’s lecture on the specific gravity of elements.

She couldn’t really blame them, though. She hadn’t been too interested in the lecture herself, and she’d been giving it. Her mind had kept running back to her weekend with Ethan—playing in the snow, cuddling in front of the fire, making love in that big bed of his. Butterflies twirled through her stomach all over again just at the thought, but she went back to picking up garbage from the floor and reminded herself not to read too much into their weekend.

Yes, they’d had a fabulous time together, and, yes, she wanted to see him again. But reality had greeted her as soon as she’d awoken this morning. Once her mother’s house sold, she was leaving Hidden Falls and going back to California. Back to San Francisco and her previous life. Her company wanted her back. They’d told her she had a job whenever she was ready to return. One incredible weekend with Ethan did not make a relationship. And even if it did, there was no way she’d be able to keep that relationship up when they were hundreds of miles apart.

Could she?

A chilly breeze blew through her open classroom door, distracting her from her thoughts. Realizing one of the kids must have propped the exterior door at the end of the hall open on his way out, she turned out of her room and headed down the corridor, dropping the note and her stupid fantasies in the trash can.

Patches of snow still lingered on the grass outside her room, but the majority had already melted. A few dry leaves skittered across the yard. She pulled the heavy door closed and brushed her hands together as she gazed out at the football field and the setting sun.

But what if they could somehow keep things going? She’d love to take Ethan to Fisherman’s Wharf. Could just picture him riding a cable car. And based on the sports memorabilia she’d seen in his home office, she knew he’d probably love to catch a game with her at AT&T Park.

“Nice view.”

Sam jumped and whirled toward the deep voice. Kenny leaned against the end of a broom, mere feet from her.

“Kenny.” Sam pressed a hand to her chest. “I didn’t hear you. You scared me.”

A chill smile split his face, one that didn’t reach his dull gray eyes. “Wouldn’t want to do that, now, would I?”

She glanced past Kenny and down the empty hallway. Every other light was illuminated, the eerie red glow of sunset shining through the windows in the door behind her. Most of the staff had already left for the day. Which meant they were alone.

Unease skittered along her nerve endings. “Someone left the door open. I was just closing it.”

He nodded, his gaze running down the length of her body like an intimate caress. But instead of stepping aside so she could pass, he moved a half step toward her. “Wouldn’t want anyone to escape, now would we? That could be bad. That could be very bad.”

Sam’s instincts went on high alert. The look in his eyes, the cool tone of his voice, the way his gaze kept skipping back to her breasts . . . it all made her adrenaline shoot sky high. “Look, Kenny, I need to get back to my room.”

“Why the rush?” He took another step closer, forcing her back into the corner. Something dark churned in his eyes. Something dangerous. He braced one hand on the wall beside her head. “You’ve got no one to meet there.”

Sam’s skin grew hot, and panic clawed at her throat. “Please step back, Kenny. I don’t—”

“Miss Parker?”

Kenny’s jaw hardened, and he stared at Sam a hard, scathing moment before dropping his hand. But he didn’t move back.