Chapter 14

"There comes a moment when the silence between two people can have the purity of a diamond."

–Philippe Djian, Betty Blue

Rayne

I had taken a chance to sneak out of my old home shortly after Randy and Edith had gone to bed. It wasn't the first time I'd tip-toed out the back door, but it was strange doing so as an adult.

I couldn't blame them for wanting me close. Not after what had happened today.

Knowing it was important for me to stay hidden, I'd driven my mother's minivan. Because of all her medication, she hadn't driven it in months anyway. I left a note for my folks so they wouldn't worry, something I'd never thought of doing as a teen when I'd snuck out to hang with Aria.

My plan, however, was to be back in their guest room, my old bedroom, before sunup.

When I arrived at Jameson's place and realized that he wasn't there, I figured he was still working. After waiting almost fifteen minutes, I had just talked myself into leaving. Then I spotted him walking down the street and immediately knew something was wrong.

The way he was holding himself, I could tell he was in pain or in trouble. I glanced around for someone shadowing him and knew that we were alone.

The fact that it had been Izzy who had unloaded more than two dozen rounds into my home made sense. Seeing the damage she'd done to Jameson's head somehow pissed me off more than all the destruction that she'd done to my place.

Windows and furniture could be replaced. The jagged scar that Jameson would have just above his left ear was forever.

"Here," I said, pulling back from his kiss, "let me fix you up."

"I'm okay." He groaned and tried to pull me back between his legs. God, it felt so good there, caged in his body.

"You're bleeding all over the place," I said, holding out my blood-soaked hand.

He frowned down at my fingers and then nodded. "Okay, but after…" His hand moved up to cover my butt and I held in a moan.

"Why do you think I'm here?" I joked.

Okay, I was there for a lot of other reasons. First, I'd wanted to make sure whatever he did last night hadn't involved a drive-by of my place.

I knew what agents had to do undercover. The fact was that they couldn't sweat the small stuff. In his time undercover, he'd probably had to witness or be part of countless illegal activities, all with the singular goal of catching that one really big fish. The one pulling the strings. There was no doubt in my mind that he'd do what it took to get his job done. I just needed to make sure I wasn't collateral damage along the way.

However, the kiss we'd just shared assured me of several things. First and foremost were his feelings for me. And that meant he would have done anything to ensure that I didn't get hurt.

After cleaning up the cut and removing a few pieces of glass from his scalp, I used butterfly bandages to seal up his skin nicely.

The bleeding would continue for a while, so I tapped a thick piece of gauze over the spot, using more tape than was probably necessary.

"I should shave your head here so these will stick," I mumbled.

"So do it. Clippers are under the sink," he said, keeping his eyes closed.

"No, I like your hair." I frowned at him.

"It grows back." He opened his eyes and looked at me.

Without answering, I grabbed a washcloth and got it wet. Then I took my time cleaning the blood from his hair and skin.

When I was done, I used a few more strips of tape to hold the bandages more tightly over the spot.

"It's as best as I can get," I admitted. Then I leaned down and brushed my lips over his.

He chuckled, then lifted his hands and gently ran them over some of my cuts. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Cuts. Bruises." I smiled. "My front window is being replaced tomorrow. I'll need a new sofa and lamp."

He cupped my face. "I wanted to strangle the crazy bitch."

I nodded. "I'll pay her back."

He shook his head. "You can't. She only mentioned it to me. She'll know?—"

"I assume she told you at the bar?" I broke in. He nodded slowly as I smiled. "Everyone in town probably knows by now. I'll wait until the rumor hits me, then seek my revenge." I rubbed my hands together and laughed, causing him to smile. "Besides, I owe her for this." I touched the bandage on his head. "Tell me we don't have to stay in this bathroom all night."

He stood up, then surprised me by lifting me into his arms and carrying me through the dark rooms. He nudged open a door and walked through it.

When he flipped on a low light and set me down on a small bed, I realized this was a safe room. There were no windows, only a computer on a small table, a lamp, and a twin-sized bed.

"We're good in here." He smiled as he removed his coat before reaching for my sneakers.

I toed my shoes off before he could help and then whipped my shirt over my head.

He hissed and moved to sit next to me, his eyes running over the cuts and bruises that covered my arms and chest. He cursed under his breath.

"I'm good," I assured him. "Believe it or not, I used to get worse playing softball."

"Yeah." Jameson smiled. "I'm a huge baseball nut. I pitched my school team all the way to state champs."

"We'll have to start a team." I laughed before pulling him towards me for another kiss.

I matched his speed and desire as our needs pushed us forward. Clothes hit the floor as our hands ran over one another.

I felt as if I couldn't get enough of him. Felt as if I could take forever exploring, enjoying, wanting.

I felt so much when he laid me down on the bed. My heart surged as I wrapped my legs around his hips.

The way he moved his mouth over me sent shivers to my very core. His fingers slipped deep inside me while his tongue circled my nipples, making me ache deep down.

This time, when he slid inside me, I felt something I'd never felt before. Something primitive, something that transcended all time and space.

Had I ever felt like this before? My mind burst along with my body when I felt our release together. I'd never felt so in sync with anyone before.

"Rayne," he murmured, his voice soft in the quiet of the night. "We need to talk about us. I don't know what this is," he said into my hair as his breathing slowed, "but I'll be damned if anyone, including your father, is going to stop us from exploring it further."

I smiled as my hands slowly ran over his shoulders. "Agreed." I turned to face him, my heart quickening at the seriousness in his tone. "It's not going to be easy, but we can't keep pretending that this isn't real."

While the darkness of the room enveloped us, a shroud of secrecy seemed fitting for our clandestine conversation. Jameson's presence beside me was both comforting and electrifying, his warmth seeping into my skin as we lay tangled in the sheets.

He reached out, his hand finding mine in the darkness, our fingers intertwining as if seeking reassurance. "I want to be with you. More than anything. But you know the risks. My job, the danger... we can't let anyone know about us."

I nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "I know. And I want to be with you too. But it's not just about hiding our relationship. It's about what could happen if you're discovered. The Reapers, to my knowledge, don't dally in murder. That doesn't mean they won't if you're exposed because of me."

"Felix has pretty much told me to end this. Now that there is a lot of attention on you after today, I think he's scared you'll come after them harder," he said with a slight sigh.

I nodded, understanding, as tears stung my heart. He was right. I wanted to set my sights on the Reapers and take them down. Even before I'd known it was Lizzy who was behind all the destruction.

He sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

"But suddenly I can't imagine my life without you. I'm willing to take that risk if it means being with you."

"I feel the same way. But we have to be careful." Tears rolled out of the corners of my eyes, a mix of longing and apprehension swirling within me.

"I promise. I'll do whatever it takes to protect us, to protect you." He squeezed my hand, his touch a silent vow in the darkness.

As we lay together in the darkness of his safe room, after whispering promises of devotion, we both knew that this would always be our greatest secret.

"Do you have to get back?" he asked after a moment.

I nodded and closed my eyes, silently wishing my life was different, normal.

"How did you get here?" he asked, leaning up on his elbows to look down at me.

"My mother's car."

He nodded slowly as he ran his eyes over my face. "I wanted to strangle Izzy for this." He brushed a finger gently over my cheek.

"I will for this." I smiled up at him as I gently touched his head.

"Declan is out of jail," he said, and I nodded.

"Yeah, he only spent a few hours behind bars. Long enough for Evelyn to wake up and clear him of charges. She claims someone else broke into the bar while she was opening up and hurt her. She claimed that Declan was trying to perform medical help when we arrived."

"She was with him tonight at the bar, laughing and joking while she sat on his lap. With a broken arm. They acted as if nothing had happened." He shook his head. "She looked twice as bad as we do right now."

I nodded. "It's not the first time he's done this to her. I was hoping it was the last. She was unconscious forever. I can't believe she didn't stay in the hospital longer," I said. "What makes a person go back to the one that has done something like that to them?"

He shook his head. "Not knowing there is more out there? Fear?" He shrugged. "This." He motioned between us. "I meant what I said. I don't want anything getting in the way. As long as you're willing, I'd like to ride it out. See where it goes."

I smiled. "I'd like that."

He frowned a little more. "Even if that means putting things on hold until I have everything wrapped up."

"Your job is important. What you do, what I do, it matters. This can wait," I assured him.

He sighed and rested his forehead against mine. "I wish it didn't have to. I wish we could spend the night wrapped in each other's arms."

"Same," I agreed.

He kissed me and my heart ached. It caused me more pain than all of the cuts had.

"I wish I had the energy to go another round,"

I shook my head. "I'm too tired. If we did, I wouldn't be able to make it back."

He nodded and then his weight and warmth were gone as he sat up.

We dressed in silence, but he stopped me from leaving the room once I was fully dressed. Then he pulled me back into his arms and kissed me.

"Can you tell me where you were last night?" I asked, my voice laced with a hint of concern as he pulled away.

He shrugged a casual gesture that belied the gravity of our conversation. "Another run," he replied, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. "There might be something…" He paused, his gaze drifting to the distance. "I'll let you know if it goes anywhere. For now, I think it would be best to follow this new lead on my own. However, I will tell you that we dropped a ton of money off at the Taylor's place."

"How much money?" I asked, my mind reeling at the implications.

He shrugged once more, the nonchalance of his demeanor unsettling. "I didn't count it, but my guess was about a hundred grand or so."

"Shit." My thoughts raced. "The Reapers dropped off a hundred thousand dollars to Henry Taylor?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yeah, at least I think it was to Henry Taylor. I mean, I didn't see the man since I stayed out in the car."

"Where did that money come from?" I asked, my voice tinged with urgency.

"That's the lead I want to follow up on," he said cryptically, his expression inscrutable. "For now, at least I've confirmed that the money is no longer at the Taylor's place."

"You've…" I narrowed my eyes, a mixture of curiosity and frustration coursing through me. "How?"

He smiled enigmatically. "I have my ways."

I groaned. "Do not tell me you broke into the house."

"Okay." He flashed a mischievous grin. "I won't tell you."

I threw up my hands in exasperation. "I know you have to do what you have to for the job, but from here on out, keep me in the dark about any illegal activities."

"Will do." He chuckled.

"Why would the Reapers be giving Henry Taylor money?" I asked.

"That's what I'm hoping to find out. From what I know about the man, he's not the type I'm looking for. Running an undercover drug ring that stretches over more than a dozen states just isn't his cup of tea. Besides, I don't think he has what it takes up here"—he tapped the undamaged side of his head—"to be an evil mastermind."

As I ran through my mental dossier on the man, the intricate tapestry of the Taylor family's history unfurled before me like a dark, tangled web. They had always been shrouded in controversy, their legacy tainted by the shadow of their past deeds.

First, as one of the largest slave owners in the area, they had wielded their wealth and influence to maintain their stranglehold over both land and people, clinging desperately to their way of life even as the Civil War loomed on the horizon. Theirs was a legacy built on the backs of others, steeped in the blood and sweat of generations enslaved.

But even after the abolition of slavery, the Taylors had found new ways to exert their dominance, using the laws and the weight of their money to crush any competition that dared to challenge their supremacy. Gemsville, once a small town beholden to their every whim, had grown beyond their control, but the Taylors had adapted, their grip on power only tightening with the passing years.

Henry Taylor, the scion of this dynasty, had inherited his family's legacy of entitlement and privilege. His upbringing had been steeped in the trappings of wealth and power, his path in life paved with golden promises and silver spoons. But where his forebears had thrived, Henry had faltered, his reputation tarnished by whispers of incompetence and indolence.

Rumors had long swirled around him, painting him as a ne'er-do-well, a mere shadow of his illustrious lineage. He had coasted through school only due to his family's influence, his diploma a hollow testament to his lack of ambition. Afterward, he had taken a position in his father's company, a cushy job that demanded little and offered even less.

His forced marriage due to Sharon's pregnancy was surrounded by whispers of scandal back in the day. The untimely death of Henry's parents and his subsequent ascension in the family threw more fuel to the rumor mills.

The pair stayed under the radar for years until Sharon ascended to the mayor's office. Then Henry's ambitions had suddenly ignited, fueled, no doubt, by a burning desire to prove his worth. No longer content to be a mere footnote in his family's storied history, he had seized every opportunity to assert his authority, his hunger for power driving him to grasp control wherever he could.

It was as if he were trying to outrun the shadows of his past, to carve out a place for himself in a world that had long overlooked him. And now, as I contemplated his meteoric rise to prominence, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Henry Taylor than met the eye. Beneath the facade of respectability lurked a man driven by ambition and haunted by the ghosts of his family's legacy.

I felt an urge to move him up on the list of suspects in his wife's murder. Had I fallen prey to his ploys like everyone else in town?

"Text my private number and let me know when you get back to your parents' place safely," Jameson broke into my thoughts. I nodded as he shut off the lights in the hidden room and slid open the doorway. "I'll walk you as far as I can," he added.

We stepped out of the secret room, and I realized that an entire brick wall had slid silently open to allow access to the space.

From what I could tell, his loft apartment was huge. The light from the massive windows that overlooked the street lit the space well enough that I could see he kept things tidy. He helped me through the dark living room, past the kitchen, and to the front door.

"Later, I hope I can visit your place in the daytime. I'd like to see what kind of house you keep," I joked.

He chuckled. "I'm a clean freak. I suppose it comes from having to keep my shit hidden. My real shit at any rate."

He opened his door and stepped out, looking around. I waited until he came back.

"It's clear, from what I can tell. Still, stick to the shadows. I've turned off the porch light. There are twenty-two stairs to the pathway."

"Thanks." I leaned up and kissed him again. "Night."

After descending the twenty-two stairs, I turned right and followed the dark alleyway, pausing at the entrance to scan the area. It was a quarter past three in the morning. The bars had closed at one, which meant the town was dead quiet. If I was being watched, whoever it was was damned good at keeping hidden.

The darkness of the night seemed to swallow me whole as I made my way down the dimly lit alley, every step a silent prayer that no one was following.

The streets were deserted, the only sounds the distant hum of a passing car on the highway almost half a mile away and the buzzing of the summer night bugs. I hugged the shadows, my senses on high alert as I navigated the empty sidewalks, acutely aware of the need to remain unseen.

A sudden rustle in the bushes ahead sent a jolt of fear coursing through me, my pulse quickening as I froze in place. Was someone watching? Was I being followed?

With bated breath, I strained my ears for any sign of movement, my heart pounding in my chest. I pressed myself against a brick wall and stood there for a full two minutes, but all I heard was the whisper of the wind through the trees, the night silent once more.

Relief flooded through me as I cautiously resumed my journey, my footsteps barely an echo in the stillness. Sweat rolled down my back as the summer heat soaked my clothes. Every shadow seemed to hold a threat, every corner a potential danger, but I pressed on, determined to reach the van quickly.

Finally, I stepped into the alley where my mother's van was parked. I could see it at the other end of the street, a beacon of safety in the darkness. I quickened my pace, my heart racing as I fumbled for the keys in my pocket, desperate to escape the suffocating grip of the night.

I had only parked three blocks away from Jameson's place, yet the journey had seemed to take forever.

I'd been so focused on reaching the van and concerned that someone was following me that I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking. When I tripped and landed on my hands and knees, I cursed under my breath.

I'd fallen into something sticky and immediately cringed. Then I turned and looked at what I'd tripped over and gasped.

Evelyn Hart lay in the center of the alleyway, her body twisted at odd angles as her eyes staring blankly up into the night sky.

"Well, shit," I groaned.