The Gentlewoman (28 page)

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Authors: Lisa Durkin

BOOK: The Gentlewoman
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“You know, it’s strange.”

“What?” Jackson said, opening the door. He locked it when
they were inside and took her coat.

“You and Reynolds say that Roan is interested now because
I’m happy. But the first time I noticed my door unlocked was before I ever
hooked up with you.”

He thought about it. “True, but we had been out in public
together.” He shrugged, removing his shoes.

“True,” she said as he approached her and pulled her to his
body. She could feel his erection on her belly.

“How about that stamina,” he whispered, lowering his lips to
hers. He kissed her deeply, engulfing her body. “These boots have been driving
me crazy all night. I’ve been dying to see what you have on under this dress.”

He stalked her back to the couch and lowered her onto her
back. He untied the bow and laid the two sides of her dress open, gasping at
what he saw underneath. She wore a black lace bra with matching G-string and
thigh-high stockings. He slowly ran his hand down her body. Her back arched and
her knees bent as she closed her eyes and enjoyed his touch.

“I want you.” He was quickly unfastening his pants. “I have
to be in you right now.” He grabbed her G-string and ripped it from her. She
cried out as he slammed into her.

He stilled for a moment. “You okay?”

“Oh yes, please fuck me.”

He hammered into her. She reached behind her head and
grabbed the arm of the couch to keep from being fucked off. He didn’t stop. He
enjoyed the view of her bra and thigh-highs, arms overhead hanging on, and
knees raised high as he pounded into her. Her tits bounced to his rhythm. He
reached down and splayed his hand across her belly, placing his thumb directly
on her naked clit. She felt his rhythm inside her and on her clit and burst in
an explosive orgasm, shouting his name. He smiled as he watched her come.

He thrust into her several more times before pressing deep
and spilling into her.

They embraced on the cramped couch, exhausted.

“You know, this is the first time this couch has seen any
action.”

Rory chuckled. “Playboy Dorn has never fucked on the couch
before?”

“Playboy Dorn hasn’t fucked much in this condo at all. I’m
happy that’s changed.”

Rory opened her eyes. “You didn’t bring your fuck friends
here?”

“No, we mostly went to their places. Or stayed at the club I
belonged to.”

“Oh. Club?”

Jackson opened his eyes. “Club. For those kinds of fun and games…”

“Oh. Do you miss your fuck friends? The ménages, I mean?”

He looked at her as if she were speaking in tongues. “I
haven’t given it a single thought.” He considered it and continued. “I think I
was over it. And then you came along and…well, this is just a level of desire
that I never knew. You arouse me more than any of that ever did.”

Rory’s heart soared and she gazed at him in awe.

“Wow,” she whispered.

He smiled. “Yeah, so you damn well better marry me.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

As promised, Rory was delivered the much ballyhooed
legislation on Monday. She leaned back after reading it through, hands gripping
the arms of her chair. She finally understood the mind fuck Jackson’s folks
were up to.

“Now I know why they needed me so badly,” she murmured to
Nicole, who was still reading. Rory stared at the document. Anger had been her
immediate response, but that quickly mixed with disbelief.

Nicole flipped through the pages. “They have a screw loose.
This’ll never fly.”

“That’s why they needed me,” she said coolly. “The police
chief’s daughter, poor little victim girl. But the server proposal is ballsy.
I’ve never seen anything so…crazy.”

On its face the legislation had parts that were somewhat
innocuous. There were tougher sentences for drugs, weapons, and human
trafficking, including more funding for the Department of State. There was more
funding for Homeland for already passed legislation like the Brady Bill. Most
of it she actually supported.

But there were three main parts that were particularly
troublesome. The first was a request for funding to double the field staff in
Homeland and the CIA. That would raise some eyebrows.

The second dealt with civil rights. Reading between the
lines, law enforcement would be given broader powers with which to decide
probable cause. Scary broad powers, even in the mind of a cop’s daughter.

The third was just incredible. Fancy language aside, it
boiled down to the fact that the NSA, CIA and Homeland wanted to pick and
choose what cell phone and email information it could use. They were to
accomplish this by not only giving private carriers money to replace and expand
their storage servers, but the federal government would maintain ownership of
those servers. No longer would a warrant be necessary for obtaining or using
any phone conversations, texts and emails that were the property of any person
on earth. They would be the property of the government. Warrants would never be
necessary.

Rory breathed deeply, musing at how impressively written and
well decorated the document was that forfeited so many rights of the citizens
of this country. She knew she was looking at a steaming pile of horse shit.

And she could tell they intended to use her story to push
this. Aidan had been able to do what he did because the FBI couldn’t get a
warrant early enough for the information they needed to arrest him. They had
needed her to tap her own phones and provide access to him. And she wasn’t
properly protected because there weren’t enough agents…or that’s what they had
told the media. She was the requirement necessary to limit the opposition on
this bill because nobody would want to address her on the necessity of the
measures. Not when they perceived her answer would be “so somebody else
wouldn’t go through what I went through”. They wanted to peddle the pity.

They wanted her to talk about what had happened. Panic rose
in her chest.

“Nicole, grab Jill, Michael and Liam and tell them we’re all
working late tonight. We’re going to re-draft this piece of shit so that it has
half a chance in hell at getting through the House. We’re also going to avoid
the reputation-fucking that I would take, while getting exactly what I want.”
She picked up the phone and dialed Jackson’s number.

“Uh-oh, she’s rapid-fire swearing; shit’s about to get interesting!”

“Order food, Prego!” she called after her.

“Hi, baby,” Jackson answered in a measured tone. “How
are…things?” He knew she’d read the legislation.

“Hi, baby! Things are great. How are you?” she shouted
enthusiastically with an edge in her voice. She was going to have to let go of
the fact that his original game had been to saddle her with this.

“I’m okay,” he said warily.

“Well, I’m just calling to let you know that I’m going to
have to work very late this evening. I’ll be rewriting legislation that I’m
going to sponsor.”

“I see,” Jackson said. “Well, I’ll stay and we can go home
together whenever you’re ready.”

“That works for me, baby!” she said.

“Rory…please,” Jackson moaned. “I’ve been anxious all
morning waiting for your reaction to the legislation. My guts are tied in
knots. I’ve been afraid you would leave me again.”

She breathed deeply and came down from her anger. “It’s
okay, Jackson, I’ll get over it.”

“I just don’t want to lose you. I’m so sorry. I know it’s a
terrible position that I put you in. I’ll help you however I can, anything you
need.”

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel the hurt and
anxiety for a moment. She was surprised when he read her mind.

“I’m not going to let them bully you into talking about
anything you’re not comfortable with.” She remained quiet. “Rory?”

“I must really love you,” she whispered.

“I hope so because I love you so much.”

 

It was almost midnight when Rory and Jackson were dropped at
their building. They dragged themselves through the front door and Rory stood
aside as Jackson unlocked his condo. Agent Manus appeared behind them in Rory’s
doorway.

“Congresswoman, Congressman, may I have a word with you in
here?” The look on his face and his tone of voice immediately put her on alert.
They followed him into her condo. There was an entire crew in attendance,
including Tagg and four other men whose names Rory hadn’t bothered to learn.

“I’m sorry to delay you, but there’s been activity that we
need to brief you on,” Manus started, then hesitated.

“What now?” Rory asked, irritated. She was tired of bullshit
today.

“Today I was alone here for several hours while Tagg and the
others were off-site. During a time when I was…in the master bathroom, someone
entered the condo and left a box on the kitchen counter.”

Rory didn’t quite understand but Jackson beat her to it.
“What do you mean, left a box?”

“Sir, the locked door was somehow breached without force,
and a box was left. Its contents were meant to intimidate or scare the
congresswoman. Unfortunately, at this time, we need her to view the box and
contents to determine if there is any further significance to the
investigation.”

“What’s in the box?” Rory blurted out. Her heart began to
race.

“Ma’am, I’d like to warn you that the contents contain a
bio-hazard, blood to be specific. We ask that you not touch it. Also, it is of
an upsetting nature.”

Rory went pale and Jackson stepped in, his hand squeezing
her arm.

“Blood?” Jackson asked.

“What’s in the box?” Rory demanded again, breathing hard and
staring at the agent.

Manus assumed his professional bad-news-bearing demeanor.
“Ma’am, it’s a baby doll covered in blood.”

Rory swooned as Jackson’s arms went around her. He shot
questions in rapid succession that Rory didn’t hear. Her eyes went beyond the
agent, to the box she could see sitting on the counter. It was just a
nondescript brown cardboard box. There was nothing special about it.
Conversation went on around her but didn’t register. All she could focus on was
that box.

She stepped forward and Jackson tried to pull her back. She
lifted her hand to stop him, her gaze never leaving the box. Everybody fell
silent as she approached it. She felt like she was in a dream. A feeling of
dread mixed with fear and anxiety ran through her. But she had to look in the
box. She had to know if this was any match to the terror she had been through
three years prior. She could taste the same metallic adrenaline in her mouth.

She reached with shaking hands to lift the flaps. She
hesitated for a moment but then bent the flaps back, and held them down tightly
as the smell hit her. She peered into the gory blood-soaked interior at the
baby doll. It was covered in blood, with a knife through its head.

All she remembered next was sitting on the couch, Jackson
insisting she drink from the glass of water she held. She hadn’t passed out,
but she had no memory of what had come next. It was as if her mind had
fast-forwarded. Everyone was talking around her. She was shaky, but she took a
drink and cleared her throat.

“It’s from my house,” she said hoarsely.

Everyone fell silent. “Pardon me, ma’am?” Agent Manus asked.

She stared at the glass in her hand. “The doll is from my
house in Ohio. Maybe I brought it with me, I don’t know. My dad gave it to me
when I was five.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Manus said quietly. “Anything else you
can tell us?”

She looked up at him. “When I was home last, my neighbor
told me he’d seen somebody looking around my house. Mr. Lucas, next door. He’ll
tell you about it.”

“We’ll follow up. Anything else?” Nobody spoke or moved.

“Will you…check on my house?”

“Tagg has already called the Cleveland office. We’ve
dispatched agents.”

She nodded and couldn’t think of anything else. She closed
her eyes and saw the baby doll with the knife through its head, covered in
blood. She knew what that symbolized. It was a warning. She could feel the
panic threatening to overtake her.

“I want to go,” she whispered.

Jackson immediately stood and helped her up, placing his arm
around her protectively. He thanked everyone as they left.

 

“Can I get you something to eat or drink?” Jackson asked
gently.

She sat unmoving on the bed. The panic and fear were closing
in. “No,” she whispered.

He knelt in front of her, his eyes searching her face, his
hands massaging her thighs. “Are you okay? What can I do for you?” She could
tell he needed to feel useful, to make it better. She had no ability to be
forthcoming. She was too busy trying to keep it all at bay.

“I’m sorry,” she offered.

“Don’t be. I’m sorry this is happening to you. Do you want
to go to bed? It’s late.”

“I want to shower.”

“Okay, I’ll start it.” He rose and Rory stopped him with a
hand on his arm.

“Jackson, I need to shower alone.” Tears rimmed her eyes.

He stood back. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. She made her way into the
bathroom and closed the door.

She moved mechanically to the shower and turned it on,
feeling tired and weak as she removed her clothes. As she turned to open the
shower door, she caught her reflection in the mirror and froze. She could see
her entire body. She was pale, white as a ghost. She was thinner than she had
been even two weeks before.

As she looked down her body, her eyes stopped at the
scarring on her lower abdomen near her left hip bone. It was lighter, faded
over time, but in her mind it was still pronounced.

She sucked air as a wave of nausea and panic struck her. She
lunged across the bathroom, smacking down on her knees in front of the toilet.
She grabbed frantically to lift the lid before she began heaving and retching uncontrollably
into the bowl. She threw up what little was in her stomach and when it was
empty, threw up bile. She hunkered there, trying to stop gagging. When the
heaving finally subsided, she sat back on her knees. She trembled and sobbed
uncontrollably as she remembered the hell she had lived through and the
sickness that was following her now.

She didn’t know how long it went on, but she couldn’t stop
sobbing. At some point, Jackson had opened the door and turned off the shower.
He wrapped his arms around her. She grabbed onto him tightly, an anchor in her
storm. He picked her up and moved her to the bed, crawling in next to her and
covering them both. He took her tightly into his arms and held her as she
shook, tremor after tremor spreading through her body. He held her there for a
long time, tethered to him, until finally exhaustion overtook her and she
passed out into a deep sleep.

 

The shot of adrenaline that went through her body the
moment she saw Aidan cut her father’s throat was painful. It was like a bolt of
lightning. She was able to push herself off the floor, but as she pitched and
weaved trying to get out of the room, it was hard to stay on her feet. She fell
to her knees by the door, and Aidan reached out and pulled her hair back
sharply. Bringing her face to his, he spat on her.

“Where are you going, bitch?” He dragged her back by the
hair, dropping her again in the middle of the floor. She tried to fight but had
no strength. She rolled over on her side and sobbed at the sight of her father’s
blood rushing from his neck, his head lolling lifelessly. She tried to reach
out to touch his boot.

Aidan screamed in her face. “You see why you shouldn’t
fuck with me, bitch? What did you think? You were going to give me up to the
feds and have that little bastard and live happily ever after with Daddy? You
worthless piece of shit…” He stood above her and kicked her. She began to cough
blood, although she wasn’t sure if it was her own or that of her father’s as it
flowed over the floor. She was covered in it. She coughed continuously, her
head ringing and her sight fading in and out.

He turned her over with his foot after lodging it in her
abdomen one last time. She stared up at the light while he rattled on about her
betrayals. Her hearing had mostly failed, but she could make out the cadence of
his Irish brogue, a sound she used to love. She did hear him clearly when he
laughed at her.

He grabbed her by the hair again and wrenched her head up
so she could face her dead father. “You look at him, bitch, and you remember
this was your fault. You killed him.”

He dropped her again and stood over her, drawing his
knife. She stared up at him in horror. “We’re going to take care of the rest of
your fuck-ups now, wife.”

It registered quickly and her strength returned in a
great wave. She turned on her side and began to scoot away, pinwheeling her
arms and legs to gain purchase on the bloody floor. She couldn’t move her left
arm, her ears and head were ringing loudly and it felt as if every rib was
broken. But she focused on saving herself and her baby.

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