Trust Me (34 page)

"Getting tied up doesn't excite me," she said.

"I've been celibate for three and a half years, Jane. Waiting to be with you again. I just want to make this an occasion to remember. Can't we make it different? Special?"

Finally she smiled. "Okay."

"Turn over."

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She blinked in surprise. "Why would I turn over?"

"Because I want you to be facedown."

"Then we won't be able to see each other."

And he wouldn't be constantly reminded that she wasn't the one he wanted. "A lot of people do it like this. Come on. I'm not going to hurt you.

Have I ever hurt you?"

"No." Her chest lifted as if she'd taken a deep breath. "I know you won't hurt me," she said. Then she stopped frowning and stalling and turned over so he could tie her up.

"That's too tight," she complained once he'd finished.

He didn't loosen her bonds. This was just starting to get exciting. "It won't be any fun if you can get free."

"But the sheets are cutting off my circulation."

"I won't leave you this way for long. Hold still, I want you to wear a blindfold, too."

He got the bandanna he used to clean his reading glasses from his sock drawer and attempted to tie it over her eyes. But she didn't want him to use it. She kept shaking her head, which made it difficult to get the darn thing on.

"Why do we have to add a blindfold?" she asked.

So you won 'tsee the knife I bought today. He didn't have any plans to use it on her, of course. He just wanted to feel it in his hands while he enjoyed himself. "This is only a little game of sex slave, Janey," he said, using her nickname to calm her. "Relax, okay? Couples play it all the time."

"I don't want to be blindfolded," she said again, but she was already tied up so he made her wear it anyway, and that act alone, with her twisting and fighting and begging him to set her free, told him he wasn't going to have any trouble finishing this.

"Oliver, stop," she wailed. "I don't like what you're doing."

Which was precisely why he liked it so much. He longed to put the knife to her neck, to feel the warmth of her blood. That would shut her up.

Remembering the stifled whimpers of past encounters sent a shot of pure testosterone to his groin.

"Come on, Jane," he pleaded. "I've been in prison for three years.

Can't you give it to me how I want it at least once?"

She stopped trying to pull free. "It's just that I feel so helpless. I don't like it."

He couldn't force her, or she might complain to his family, which would call into question everything he'd told them about his past. "I know.

But you'll do it for me, won't you? Please? I'll let you tie me up after."

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She said nothing.

"I'd never hurt you."

"I know," she said again, but once he had her tied and blindfolded and held that knife in his hand, he was afraid he might. He was no longer the little guy who was always getting pushed around. He could command respect. Her very life was in his hands, a life he could take with one flick of his wrist.

"What's that?" she asked a few minutes later, a hint of terror in her voice. "What's that in your hand?"

He held the blade farther away. "Nothing," he lied. Then he fondled her neck with his free hand, wishing he didn't have to be quite so careful.

Jane waited until Oliver fell asleep, then slipped out of the bedroom.

He'd been rough with her, rougher than he'd ever been in the past. And although he'd tried to make up for it by kissing her and hugging her afterward, and thanking her repeatedly for being such a good sport, she felt rattled. Scared. She wasn't sure if prison had caused this change in him, or merely brought something previously hidden closer to the surface, but she had to tell Noah. She was beginning to believe that Skye was right: Oliver was dangerous.

Creeping into the bathroom, she closed the door, then turned on the light and gazed in the mirror. With her new haircut and bleach job, she scarcely recognized herself. But her eyes quickly moved down from her face. Her breasts were red and sore from the way he'd squeezed and pinched them, she had teeth marks on one shoulder and her bottom was sunburn-red from being slapped. He hadn't broken the skin or drawn any blood, but what he'd done certainly wasn't making love. There'd been a cruelty involved that was as shocking as it was terrifying. And he'd had some object in his right hand, something he hadn't wanted to reveal to her. He'd kept it from coming into contact with her, but the bottom of something hard and flat had brushed her arm when he finally collapsed at her side.

Jane studied her hands, swollen from being bound. That was another thing. He hadn't cared that he'd tied those sheets too tight, hadn't even followed through on his promise to make the experience a quick one. Just when he seemed ready to finish, he'd hold off and wait a few minutes, trying to drag the session out as long as possible, and he did that over and over again.

Feeling tears prickle the backs of her eyes, she held her breath as she listened for any movement in the bedroom. Nothing. Oliver was probably out for the night. What he'd done to her--she couldn't think of it as what they'd done together--seemed to satisfy him more completely than anything 216

they'd ever done before.

Heartened by Oliver's lack of movement, she grabbed her bathrobe from the hook by the shower, carefully opened the door and crept out to the kitchen. She could smell the onions from the meatloaf she'd made earlier, as well as the mildew that always seemed to permeate the place. She'd thought she'd hit bottom when Oliver was convicted of a crime she didn't believe he'd committed and she'd turned to an affair with his brother for the love and support she needed. But being married to an ex-convict whom she now believed was guilty of attempted rape, at the very least, and possibly murder, was definitely worse. She had to get away from him, get Kate away.

But she had no resources. Thanks to the bike he'd bought, her checking account was already overdrawn and would be until she got paid.

Oliver had also insisted she buy champagne to celebrate his return, and filet mignon. She'd done it, hoping such a lavish dinner would help them adjust and recover, but it had been an unnecessary extravagance. When she'd told Oliver she was overdrawn, he'd shrugged and said the store could wait to get its money. When she'd added that the bank would charge them twenty-seven dollars for each bounced check, he'd given her a dirty look and said, "You don't think I'm worth twenty-seven dollars?"

Taking the phone from the cluttered counter, where dinner dishes awaited her--which she'd have to do before heading to work in the morning--

Jane stepped out onto the porch and dialed Noah's number.

Wendy answered with a sleepy, "Hello?"

"Wendy, it's Jane."

There was a long pause. When Wendy spoke again, she was much more awake. "What's wrong, Jane? Is your toilet stopped up again?"

Jane's heart skipped a beat. Wendy suspected. Or maybe, by now, she knew. It'd be like Noah to tell her. But Jane couldn't let herself react to the sarcasm that had tinged her sister-in-law's response. "No, it's about Oliver.

I--I need to talk to Noah, if you don't mind."

"This can't wait until morning?" she asked.

Jane supposed it could. Now that Oliver was asleep, she wasn't in immediate danger. And she'd get up before he did in the morning. It was just that she felt so.. .used and violated and...and unloved. "I-I'm sorry, Wendy."

She started to cry. She couldn't help it.

"Jane, I know you've been through a lot, but now that Oliver's back, you have to stop relying on my husband so much."

"But this is about Oliver."

"The adjustment won't be easy. But you can do it. Okay? I'll have Noah call you in the morning. Or, better yet, maybe this is something you 217

can talk over with Betty or Maurice."

Noah had told her. He'd confessed. Wendy had always been sympathetic, and she was being generous now, considering. But Jane felt stripped naked and lashed raw.

"Right. I--I understand. I'll--" she struggled with the lump in her throat"--I'll call them tomorrow."

"Good," she said, and then she was gone.

Jane was tempted to drive over there and throw a rock at the window.

She knew Noah wouldn't be able to shut her out quite so easily. He still cared about her. He had to. It wasn't very long ago that they'd been together at his office.

But then she heard a noise behind her. Turning, she saw Oliver staring at her through the front window. The way he looked at her was so chilling that, for a moment, she couldn't move.

Finally, he stopped staring and opened the door. "What are you doing?"

Was it her imagination that he sounded suspicious? "I had to call Wendy," she said. "She--she wants me to cut her hair in the morning, but as I was going to sleep, I realized I've double-booked myself."

"It's after one. Isn't that a little late to be bothering her about a hair appointment?"

"I thought maybe she'd still be awake, watching a movie. I didn't want her to get up early for nothing." Jane was beginning to shake. Her robe was thin, and she wasn't wearing any shoes, but he was blocking her entrance to the house. "I--I did it out here so that I wouldn't disturb you," she added.

He didn't move. "You're not going to make a big deal out of one light bondage session, are you?"

He hadn't completely bought her story. "Of course not."

"Then you liked it?"

She'd hated it with every cell of her body, but she forced a smile. "It wasn't so bad."

"Sex is a give-and-take between husbands and wives. You understand that."

"Of course."

"And what happens in our bedroom stays between us, right, Jane?"

His voice was deceptive in its gentleness. After the past few hours, Jane had learned just how deceptive. "It's no one's business but ours," she concurred.

Then he stepped away from the door and let her in, but he didn't reach out and take her hand, or lead her back to the bedroom with him. Finished 218

with her for the night, he left her standing in the kitchen, staring out into the darkness.

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I've found the connection."

Skye resisted the impulse to cover her stomach with one hand as David stood up to pull out the chair across from him. He'd called her just before noon and asked her to meet him at the California Bar & Bistro on Arden Way for lunch, and she'd agreed because he'd said he had news.

She knew she should be making an announcement of her own. But she'd already decided not to tell him about the baby. She'd known she was pregnant for little more than a day--hadn't yet come to terms with the shock of it herself.

"Don't tell me it's Jane," she said in surprise.

"It's Noah."

The waitress interrupted with a greeting for Skye and a glass of water.

Skye managed a rather vacant smile in return, but her attention was on David. Noah? "But you said it wasn't Noah."

"I was wrong. Lorenzo once worked for him on a construction site."

"NSL Construction didn't show up in Lorenzo's work history." Skye had read through the information David had already gleaned, several times.

"Actually, he worked for one of Noah's subcontractors for almost a year. Even that didn't show up on his employment record because it was under the table."

"He took cash wages?"

"Exactly."

"How'd you find out?"

"I waited until Noah was out of the office, then dropped in to have a chat with his secretary."

Skye remembered the slight, willowy young woman she'd seen there when she'd stopped by to confront Noah about the affair. "She remembered Lorenzo?"

"No, but she gave me a list of the subs they've used over the past several years. Last week, I mailed each one a copy of Lorenzo's picture, and this morning, one of the workers at C&L Concrete contacted me. When he saw Lorenzo's picture on his boss's desk, it caught his eye. He read the 220

request for information at the bottom and called me to say he'd worked with Lorenzo on a few occasions."

Skye propped her elbows on the table and leaned closer, so the customers around them wouldn't be able to eavesdrop. It was busy even for a Friday. "But how would Noah get to know the temporary worker of one of his subs well enough to hire him to kill me? From everything you've compiled on Lorenzo, they don't seem compatible as friends."

"It's not as big a stretch as you might think. A general may spend several days working on one part of a job while his subs work on another.

When you come into contact with someone every day, even for a week, you get pretty familiar."

She shook her head. "I can't see Noah sending Lorenzo to my house."

The waitress came to take their order, so Skye quickly perused the menu and chose a chicken salad. David opted for a bacon burger.

"I'm not sure how it all came about," David said. "But this gives us the start we've been searching for."

"Maybe Jane could tell us more. She knows Noah as intimately as she does Oliver."

"Jane's not holding up well. I'm afraid she's going to have a nervous breakdown."

"She's doing that badly?"

"I stopped by her work yesterday. She took one look at me and ran for the bathroom. She shut herself in and wouldn't come out."

The depth of her own concern surprised Skye, considering how vehemently Jane hated her. "What about her little girl, Kate?"

"She's fine. She spends a lot of time with Oliver's mother." He drank a sip of his ice water. "I'm thinking of talking to Noah's wife, Wendy. She was pretty tight-lipped throughout the trial, but she seemed to take it all in and process it with some objectivity. Something tells me she's got a good head on her shoulders. She might listen to reason."

"Maybe she'd be more receptive to me."

His eyebrows rose. "Are you kidding? You're the devil incarnate, as far as Oliver's family is concerned."

"I know. But I'm not as threatening as a police officer. And of all his family, Wendy was the only one who looked at me with any kindness during the trial."