Broken Illusions (His Agenda Volume 3) Page 3

  Becca laughed. “You got it. But anyone who went through the shit you did would act the same way. That Jude was one sick bastard.” She took a sip. “When I read about the murders, I almost peed in my pants with relief that I left Allure before he came along.”

  I gazed at her for a moment. “I'm so glad you left that business, Becca. Some people never do.”

  Becca touched my arm. “After you left, I felt alone somehow. Bruno was beside himself with anger when I gave my notice.”

  “I’m so happy we both get to do what we love now.”

  She put down her glass and turned to me. “Let's make a pact. Let's promise to never look back. Let's promise to focus on what we have now, how much we have accomplished.”

  “You're right.” I took both her hands in mine. “Let's do that. I promise not to let my mind fuck with me anymore.” I laughed. “Time to show it who's boss.”

  “That's the spirit, girl.” She clasped her hands. “I promise to try to get rid of the guilt of talking you into going all the way with the clients, and putting you in the line of danger.”

  “Yes, you have to let that go.”

  “Okay. So, we've made our pact. I guess the only thing left to do is feast on popcorn and watch some movies.”

  We moved to the living room and settled ourselves on the sofa for our girls’ night in. As Becca reached for the remote, I thought I saw a shadow flit past the doorway to the living room. I shook my head, forcing myself to ignore the dread swirling in the pit of my stomach.

  An hour into the romantic comedy I still felt uneasy, and kept glancing at the door and windows every few minutes.

  I could only relax after I snuck away under the pretense of going to the bathroom, and did a quick sweep of the house. I found no one there, nothing suspicious.

  I sighed with relief and returned to the living room.

  Jude was six feet under. He could no longer harm me. If only the knots inside my stomach would unravel.

  “Dustin and I are going to Stony Creek this weekend,” I told Becca when the credits began to roll. “I have a shoot there and he has some ranch work to do.”

  “A billionaire getting his hands dirty. What’s sexier than that?” Becca reached for the popcorn. “How do you feel about going back there?”

  “As if I’ll be traveling back in time. But I’ll be fine.”

  One thing still made me uneasy. Jude was dead, but his brother, Nolan, was still alive. What if he was hungry for revenge?

  But he would never come out of hiding. No way would he risk paying for his brother’s crimes.

  Chapter Seven

  “You look serious,” Dustin said. “Didn’t you get any good shots last night?”

  I brought my camera closer to his face. “The shots are great.”

  Sunday at Dustin’s ranch in Stony Creek had come to an end and we had just gone to bed.

  Last night, I had photographed a small but romantic wedding at a ranch not too far from Dustin’s. It had been a tough decision to accept the assignment. I hadn't been at the ranch for almost two years, avoiding diving straight into the painful memories.

  But after talking to Becca, I was more determined than ever to challenge myself, to prove I was strong enough to move on completely. But the knot in my stomach was still tight and unwilling to let go.

  I sat up in bed and clicked through the frames. “See, beautiful pictures. But…” I stopped at a particular photo that didn’t belong. “This… I don't remember taking it.”

  Dustin kissed my arm. “You must have. You don't let anyone near your precious camera.”

  “It's the last photo in the bunch, Dustin. Do you recognize the place?”

  Dustin yawned and clasped his hands behind his head. “Sure. The barn.”

  “Exactly. When did I have time to go to the barn last night?”

  After the old barn burned down, Dustin had helped build another one in its place. It looked almost identical. He forbade his ranch hands from storing any kinds of flammable products inside.

  I took a walk over there on Friday, when we arrived in town, to prove to myself that I wasn't afraid of the past. But I didn't have my camera with me then.

  “It doesn't make sense.” I looked at the photo again, zooming in.

  Dustin took the camera from me and returned it to its bag. When he came back to bed he pulled me to him, nuzzling my neck.

  After a heartbeat he drew back and searched my gaze, held it. “You've been thinking about him a lot lately, haven't you?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “I keep getting this feeling that something’s not right. On one hand I know he's dead and buried, but inside my mind, he's still alive.”

  Dustin kissed the top of my head. “It could be because you're back here after—”

  “I want to believe that.” I pulled myself up in bed and looked at Dustin. “I want to, but I… I don't know.” I narrowed my gaze. “Jude is dead. But what if it's Nolan? What if he's as sadistic as his brother and he wants revenge for what I did to Jude? What if he wants to make me pay?”

  Dustin didn't say anything for a long time, just gazed at me with unreadable eyes. He blinked. “I want to tell you not to worry, but I can't say for sure, since he was never found. I'll phone Cole tomorrow to see if he heard anything from the cops. Or we could call Rimes himself.”

  “I think that’s a good idea. It has been a while since we touched base.”

  “It has. But it will have to wait until morning. Right now I want you to forget for a moment.” He ran his hand over my thigh. “I have ways to help you do that.”

  ***

  We called Rimes after breakfast, but he wasn't particularly helpful.

  “It's as if Nolan disappeared off the face of the Earth. I'm sorry, I wish I had better news for you.”

  I told Rimes about the photo and other weird things that had been happening—things I hadn’t even told Dustin about. It made sense to be honest with Rimes in order for him to help me. Luckily, Dustin was on another call with his assistant.

  “We'll keep looking. If we find anything, you'll be the first to know. For now, my advice is that you continue living your life.”

  “One last question,” I said, twirling a lock of my hair. “Do you think Nolan could be just as evil as his brother?” Can evil be inherited?

  Rimes sighed from the other end. “I can't say. But do you really believe anyone can be as evil as your hus—sorry, as Jude Macknight?”

  “No, no, I don’t.” I really didn't. Somehow, saying that made me feel better. But only slightly.

  ***

  “You’ve changed so much,” Grace said to me later as I helped her dry the breakfast dishes. “You're not the scared woman I met two years ago. I’m so proud of you.”

  I nodded and kissed her lined cheek. “It’s hard to remain the woman I used to be when I’m surrounded by great friends like you.”

  Grace laughed and touched my arm. “It would be wonderful if you visited more. I think about you often. But of course I understand why you wanted to stay away for a while.”

  I dried the last plate and put it away, then crossed my arms over my chest, looking out through the window at the wide open field. “Not anymore. I love this place. I promise I'll be over more often.”

  Grace’s words had struck a chord. I had lied to her, to myself. I had gained a lot of confidence, yes, and I went out and followed my dreams without letting the past get in the way, but inside, in the dark recesses of my mind, I was still the scared woman Jude had broken.

  But maybe I was still brave. I’d read once that being brave meant going out and living in spite of fear.

  Chapter Eight

  “These are amazing! Thank you so much.” Phyliss Cumberledge studied the glossy photos I had just given her at our table in Mel’s Delights. “No wonder people are raving about your services. You’re a freakin’ genius.”

  “I'm glad you like them.” The joy of seeing a client satisfied was the best part of my job.

&
nbsp; “Are you kidding?” She continued to flip through the photo book with a grin on her face. I gave one like it to all my clients in addition to individual prints. “I feel like a goddess. I'll definitely hire you again next time I get married.”

  I cringed inside, not sure how to respond. She’d only been married to her current husband for barely a month, but word around town was that at nearly forty, Phyliss had already been married four times. It seemed to me she lived for the big day and not marriage itself.

  Even though my own failed marriage had left a bitter taste in my mouth, I still believed in the institution. It would be a while before I got married again, but next time, I would make damn sure I went in with my eyes wide open.

  “I have to go. Let me know if you need anything else.” I reached into my bag and removed another smaller envelope, which I handed to Phyliss. “The USB stick.” She wrapped her French-manicured fingers around it.

  I stood up and picked up my lemon glaze muffin, still amused by what Phyliss had said, and at the same time hoping this marriage would be the one that lasted. But I doubted it. At the wedding, she had been more fascinated by her gown, the décor, and the rock on her finger. Her wealthy—and much older—husband seemed to be nothing more than an accessory.

  I left Mel's Delights and drove straight to my self-defense class. Instead of going once a week, like I’d done for six months, I now went twice a week. I loved the feeling of control I got from being able to defend myself. The frequent drills pushed us right off the cliff into the experience of being attacked. Knowing our assailant could show up with no warning was almost as terrifying as the way I had experienced it firsthand. The classes prepared me not only mentally and physically for any surprises, but also showed me that the only way I could be free was by pushing right through the cloud of fear and sting of pain.

  If I were attacked again in real life, I knew fear would throw any lessons learned right out the window. But the one weapon I’d have at my disposal would be my fast reflexes and my will to survive.

  Chapter Nine

  A knock on the bathroom door made me jump, sending blood rushing to my head and water splashing everywhere. I sighed with relief when Dustin poked his head through the door.

  “You freaked me out,” I said, still trying to catch my breath. “How did you get in? Did you find your key?”

  He shook his head. He was still standing behind the door with only his head poking through. “You left your door unlocked.”

  My stomach turned. “I did? How did that happen?” I always checked two or three times to make sure it was locked, but this time I couldn’t remember whether I had.

  “I don’t know. You have to be careful. I’m glad I’m the one who walked through it and not some stranger.”

  Strangers aren’t the most dangerous people, I almost said, but stopped myself. I wouldn’t let my forgetfulness taint my joy at seeing Dustin unexpectedly. I’d worry about the door later. “Why are you here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to New York?”

  He grinned. “I cancelled the meeting. I miss my girl. You know, we haven't seen much of each other since Stony Creek. That was two long weeks ago.”

  Warmth radiated through my chest at his words—the way he said them, the way he looked at me, his eyes glowing with love just for me.

  “Now that you’re here, why are you still standing behind the door? Come in and keep me company. Let's catch up.”

  I turned the faucet to warm the bath again. The sudsy water had cooled and I looked forward to relaxing a while longer while Dustin sat on the edge of the tub.

  “I do hope your idea of catching up doesn’t include talking. Because I have other plans.” He opened the bathroom door wider and stepped over the threshold, eliciting a gasp from me—he was completely naked and his erection stood strong, hard, and ready. Desire instantly rushed through me.

  “No.” I giggled. “Talking isn’t what I had in mind at all.”

  “I'm glad to hear that.” He strode over to the bath and climbed in behind me, his legs strong and lean as they held me between them. He picked up a sponge and started washing my shoulders and back, kissing those areas after each scrub and rinse. All the while, I felt him harden even more against my back.

  Warm water and ecstasy made me drowsy. Eventually he tossed the sponge out of the bath and slid his arms under my armpits, his hands cupping my breasts. I threw my head back and moaned with pleasure, aching to have him deep inside of me, but Dustin was nothing like Jude. He took foreplay seriously, always taking the time to please me before he made love to me.

  I tried to slide closer to him, pressing my back and butt against his groin. I was in no mood for foreplay today. I wanted him inside me now.

  Using his strong legs for support, I lifted myself a few inches out of the water and positioned myself above his cock. He didn't seem like he was about to fight it. Instead, he cupped my butt with both hands and helped me lower myself onto him until he filled me deeply.

  I screamed with pleasure.

  As always, our lovemaking was slow, hard, passionate, generous, and breathtaking. Dustin always left me feeling both fulfilled and empty—empty when he was no longer inside me. But also filled with his love, and that love was pure and healthy. Eternal.

  As I lay in his arms later that night, the open door weighed on my mind. It wasn’t like me to forget something as important as locking up. I reprimanded myself for being sloppy. Danger lurked in every corner. I didn’t want to attract it into my life again.

  Chapter Ten

  “Haley? Haley, wake up.” The female voice was distant and muted. Someone was shaking me. I was too tired to respond, not ready to emerge from the depths of sleep.

  The voice became determined, calling my name louder this time.

  I opened my eyes and blinked several times. The woman’s face came into focus and I frowned.

  “Becca? What?” My tongue felt thick and dry inside my mouth. “Why am I in here? I don't need the bathroom.”

  “Good, then let’s get you back to bed.”

  Confused, I followed her, trying to form words in my clouded mind.

  Becca helped me into bed and climbed in next to me. She looked worried.

  “Becs, what's wrong? Did something happen?” My heart was already starting to race. I was always expecting something bad to happen.

  “Sweetie,” she said in her calm voice. “I think you were sleepwalking.”

  I sat up in bed and gazed at her in disbelief. “No. That can’t be. I don't sleepwalk.”

  “I was on my way to get a glass of water when I heard the water running in your bathroom. Since I couldn't sleep, I thought I’d come for a chat.”

  Last night Becca and I had gone to a party at one of her friends’ houses and I had insisted she spend the night at my place instead of heading home at 4 a.m.

  I glanced at the bathroom door. “Was I about to have a bath?” Even though my bathroom had both a bathtub and a shower, I preferred baths.

  “With very hot water.” She paused. “If I hadn’t stopped you, you would have seriously burned yourself. I found you undressing and you were not responding to me.”

  I touched my parted lips with my fingers. “Oh my God. I sleepwalk?”

  Becca’s face creased with worry. “Maybe you should ask Dustin if he’s noticed anything. He spends more nights with you.”

  “No. I don't want him to think I'm a freak. I’m messed up enough.”

  “I don't think he'll think that.” Becca ran a hand through her hair. “Either way, maybe you should see a doctor, to make sure you're okay.”

  That I could do. Maybe a doctor would help me get over my sleepwalking before Dustin found out.

  How often had I sleepwalked? Suddenly I recalled the photo I had on my camera at Stony Creek, the one of the barn. Was it possible I took it after all?

  Chapter Eleven

  Two weeks after my sleepwalking episode, I exited my home office and was surprised to find that it w
as already 2 p.m. As usual, I had been so busy working on post production from the last wedding I shot and catching up on some administrative tasks that I lost track of time.

  My stomach rumbled, reminding me that it needed taking care of. I was not a fan of cooking for myself, so I popped a frozen pizza into the oven. Home-cooked meals were much more fulfilling when shared with someone else.

  Once it was done, I placed my pizza on the kitchen table and went to get a bottle of mineral water from the fridge. I should have been shocked when I saw the piece of red material, but I wasn’t. It was as if at the back of my mind, I had expected something strange to happen again. Something I could not explain.

  I reached for the coral-colored thong that Dustin loved me to wear, nestled between a dish of old chicken casserole and a carton of eggs. Neatly folded, as if it were in its rightful place.

  I wanted to start freaking out again, but now that I was aware of my sleepwalking problem, I assumed I must have put it there. But why the fridge of all places?

  I scrunched the underwear inside my fist, switched off the oven, and walked out of the kitchen. To hell with the pizza. My appetite was long gone.

  Before heading back to my office, I threw the thong in the laundry basket in the bathroom. I sat on the basket for a while with my eyes closed, feeling as if the room was closing in on me.

  You can get over this, and you will.

  The sleepwalking had to be caused by stress and remnants of fear. I needed to relax in order to be able to let go.

  I drew in a deep breath and opened my eyes, my eyelids feeling heavy as if from sleep. I removed a notepad and pen from a drawer and wrote down the mantra I had just spoken out loud.

  I wrote the words twenty times, like Garrett had taught me, and closed the notepad, feeling better. I knew it would get easier with time. It had to.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Hey, sweetheart.” Rachel kissed me on both cheeks. “Come on in. Is Dustin in some meeting again? That boy never stops, does he?”