Rush of Innocence (Rush Series #1) (15 page)

She
laughed, feeling freer and happier than she’d ever felt in her entire life.

The
rest of the week passed in the same vein as Monday had. He called her everyday
and usually sent her something small, either flowers or something that would
bring a smile to her lips. While they were together every night, she drew the
line at staying over every night. So, the routine was set of eating, making
love, then him driving her home, before kissing her soundly on her doorsteps.
It scared her at how utterly and completely happy she was. She felt like the
fabled Grinch when his heart grew and grew. Her heart was full to overflowing.
She struggled to keep the words contained within her lips. She didn’t want to
scare him with making their relationship so serious this soon into it.

On
Friday, she packed a small duffle before heading off for work. She assumed
she’d be spending the weekend with Rush and she wanted to be ready. At noon she
received a bouquet of yellow roses with a note which simply read:
Thinking of you… of us… of last night
.
She smiled as the memories chased around her mind: of the cool night and the
warmth of the pool water… of being pressed up against the roughened walls of
the pool as he’d stroked his amazing body into hers… of his continual words of
want and need… of her begging and pleading with him to push her over the sexual
cliff he’d held her suspended… of crying out when he’d finally flung her off
that cliff. Oh, she had it bad for him. He made her so happy.

Her
father, on the other hand, made her so miserable. She was met with his stony
silence every morning over the breakfast table. She’d been surprised this
morning when he’d actually spoken to her. Of course, it was to only to tell her
he had plans for the evening and would be home late. She sighed deeply. She was
within days of being twenty-three and her father still wanted to treat her like
she was sixteen. She refused to be manipulated by his coldness. In the past,
she would have folded long ago to his demands. She’d always sought his approval
and did whatever it took to obtain it… not that she ever actually received it.
It was like a carrot dangled in front of a horse – always just out of reach.

Rush
called in the middle of the afternoon. “Hi, baby,” he crooned into the phone.

She’d
smiled into the phone. “My office is filled to overflowing with flowers. The
smell is amazing. Thank you for them.”

“You’re
welcome. After last night, it was the least I could do. How is your back? It
was pretty scraped up last night. I’m sorry,” he murmured huskily in a tone
which led her to believe he might have been sorry for her scrapes, but would do
it again.

“I’m
not sorry,” she replied.

“I
want you right now,” he said huskily.

“What
would you do if you had me?”

His
voice dropped into a raspy whisper. “I’d strip you naked and throw you over my
desk and…”

She
interrupted him, her body flushed with the image. “Okay, okay. Just hold that
thought until
after
work.”

He
exhaled deeply. “That’s why I’m calling. I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to see
you tonight. I have a meeting I can’t get out of.”

“I
could come over after your meeting.” She hated the almost begging quality of
her voice, but her body was bristling with the need he created in her.

“I…
think it’d be better if we make plans for tomorrow. I don’t know how long the
meeting will take. How about I pick you up around two tomorrow afternoon?” he
asked.

She
hated the insecurity that rose at his words. Was he tiring of her already? Her
chest burned at the possibility. She fought to rein in those feelings, not wanting
him to know of them.

“Tomorrow
afternoon is fine,” she said in mock assurance.

“Good.
I’ll pick you up. Oh, and bring a change of clothes as you will be staying,” he
said.

“Why?
Will I be wearing clothes?” she said in invitation.

“Woman!
You’re torturing me here.” He sighed deeply. “Until tomorrow then,” he said
before clicking off the phone.

Well
damn! She’d gotten used to being with him and hated the thought of not doing
so, even for one night. At least she would have the house to herself and not
have to deal with her father’s icy silence all evening.

Seeing
as how her plans with Rush had never materialized and her father wasn’t going
to be home, Trinity placed a quick call to
Sundra
,
hoping she’d be available to catch a bite.
Sundra
promised to meet her downtown after work. Trinity felt a little guilty as she’d
been ignoring her friend lately in lieu of spending time with Rush.

She
worked until six before packing up her supplies and heading out. She roamed
around the brightly lit streets of Savannah while she waited for
Sundra
.

She
was standing outside the agreed upon small Italian restaurant when she spotted
her friend coming down the sidewalk - her red hair a beacon which drew all eyes
to her. She hugged her tight.

“I’ve
missed you!” Trinity exclaimed.

“Well,
if I was dating the Greek God, I wouldn’t call me either,”
Sundra
said on a laugh.

They
walked into the restaurant and quickly ordered drinks.

“So,
dish,”
Sundra
said once they’d received their wine
and had placed their food order with the waiter.

Trinity
raised her eyes to the ceiling and giggled. “Oh, he’s just… well utterly
amazing!”

“How’s
the sex,”
Sundra
asked with a grin.

Trinity
blushed. “Well, that’s… utterly amazing as well.”

Sundra
laughed. “I had no doubt it would be. Why is it you’ve found yourself alone on
a Friday night?”

“He
had a meeting.”

“
Humm
,”
Sundra
answered
noncommittally.

“What?”

“A
business meeting on a Friday night?” she asked.

Trinity
stomach clenched at the thought of what else could have kept him from her. “Do
you think it could be someone else?”

“I
don’t know. He is kind of known as quite the ladies’ man,”
Sundra
replied.

“My
father and Uncle Jim both said the same thing. How would I ever know for sure,”
Trinity asked.

Sundra
shook her head. “You know him better than me. Just pay attention and look for
the signs. It may be nothing.”

The
joy of the week was diminished as
Sundra’s
words
twirled through her mind. Could he be with someone else? Was that why he was so
distant sometimes? She struggled to eat the food she’d ordered.

When
they’d finished eating, Trinity begged off the movie and instead called for a
taxi and headed home. The house was dark as she’d expected it to be when she
got there. She was a little surprised to find the entry light off, but maybe
Ms. Gibbons had forgotten when she’d departed. She flipped it on when she
entered so her father could see when he got home. The light flooded the entry,
but left the rest of the house in shadows.

She
mounted the stairs and headed up to her bedroom. She found it odd that her
bedroom door was closed. Usually, Ms. Gibbons left it opened after it’d been
cleaned. Trinity turned the handle and pushed the door open. Before she had a
chance to slide her hand up the wall to flip the light switch, someone dressed
in dark clothing
came
flying at her. She immediately
threw up her hands in defense. Panic flooded her. It was almost a replay of
what had happened in her office. The person ran straight towards her, knocking
her to the floor. The air was forced from her lungs at the impact of both the
body and the floor. Before she could rise, she heard the pounding of feet as
they lumbered down the staircase and then the slamming of the front door.

With
her heart pounding, she scrambled to her feet and moved on unsteady legs into
her bedroom. She struggled to breathe as she flipped on the light. What little
oxygen she’d had was forced brutally from her lungs. Her room had been
destroyed. Every drawer had been opened and their contents dumped out. She took
a couple of stumbling steps further into the room. Her closet doors were flung
open and clothes and shoes were thrown in every direction.

She
fell to her knees at what next met her gaze. Lying scattered around her, were
the massacred remains of all her paintings. The canvases had been slashed and
the wooden structured frames destroyed. All the paintings she’d worked so
tirelessly on, gone. Tears filled her eyes at their loss. Who would do this?
What did they want? Her next thought made her blood run cold. What if they came
back?

She crawled
to the door and locked it. She had no illusion the lock would hold anyone out
for long. She fumbled in her purse for her cellphone and dialed her father’s
number, but it went straight to voicemail. She left him a message begging him
to return her call. She struggled to remember Alex’s number, but her thoughts
were too scattered. The only other number she knew by heart was Rush’s office
number, but he wouldn’t be there. Would he? She dialed his direct line, but the
phone rang and rang before it also went to voicemail. She clicked off without
leaving a message.

As
much as she didn’t want to, she knew she’d have to call the police. She’d begun
to press the familiar 911 code when her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Her
father!

“Thank
God you returned my call!” she said frantically.

“What’s
the matter? Where are you?” he demanded.

“I’m
at home. Someone was here… in the house. They’ve destroyed my room. I don’t
know about anything else. Please come home. Please, Daddy,” she whimpered like
the little girl she felt like at the moment.

“Of course.
Alex
and I will leave immediately. You lock yourself in your in room and we’ll be
there in about fifteen minutes. Okay?”

“Will
you stay on the phone with me?” she said through her fear.

“Of
course, I will.”

Her father
took her into his arms and emotions flooded her at his contact. She buried her
face in his neck and sobbed. This was the second time someone had destroyed her
space. What did they want from her? Her father led her down to his study and
poured her a small tumbler of brandy to steady her nerves. They’d left Alex to
secure the premises and check out the damage to her room.

Her
father sat next to her on the arm of the chair and lightly stroked her hair in
comfort as they waited on Alex to return.

“Why
would someone ransack my room?” she asked her father.

“I
don’t know. But it certainly has me worried.” He paused a moment before asking,
“Why were you home?”

“Rush
had an unexpected meeting.”

Her
father rose from his perch on the chair.
“Hmmm.”

She
jerked her head up at his tone. “What?”

“Nothing,”
he muttered.

“What?”
she asked again.

“I
just find it strange that you’ve been attacked twice since dating him. This
time he cancelled his plans with you and then you’re attacked again.”

“What
are you implying?
That it was Rush?
Why would he do
this? What did he have to gain?”

“I’m
not implying anything. I just find it curious is all.”

Alex’s
return saved her from replying.

“Did
you find anything?” her father asked him.

Alex
glanced at Trinity then back to her father. “No, I didn’t,” he said in measured
tones. “The house is secured. You’d do better to sleep in a different room
until we get this sorted,” Alex directed at Trinity. “Was there anything about
the attacker you noticed? Any clue to who he was?”

Trinity
began to shake her head, “No, it all happened so fast…” she paused as a thought
struck her, “he had a lightning bolt or something tattooed on his forearm. His
sleeve was pushed up. Does that help?” she asked Alex Masters.

He
stared at her silently for a long moment before clearing his throat. “I’ll look
into it,” he replied.

“I
would like to have a word with you in private, if I could,” he directed to her
father.

“Of course.
Trinity, why don’t you go up and shower. I’ll be up in a minute, okay?”

She
eyed the two men before rising to her feet. She trudged exhaustedly up the
stairs. As much as she didn’t want to, she had to go into her room for
something to wear. The scene was just as devastating as it’d been before. The
paintings she’d worked so hard on and hoped to one day hang on her own walls,
lay like spent carcasses after being devoured by vultures. It was the worst
possible violation. A shudder ran up her spine at the violence demonstrated.
Quickly, she sifted through the room until she found the items she needed
before departing swiftly.

She
lay in bed that night missing Rush. Wanting more than anything the powerful
feel of his arms wrapped tight around her… the feel of his warm breath against
her cheek… the reassuring thudding of his heart against her back.