Careless Rapture (37 page)

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Authors: Dara Girard

Tags: #romance, #mystery, #family, #secrets, #washington dc

BOOK: Careless Rapture
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“But who would want to imitate him? Who would
know so much about him? Who would know his habits, his speech
patterns, his schedule? I remember asking my brother-in-law if
wives were really powerful. I can see that they are.” Clay leaned
against the desk, his eyes piercing her cold stare. “I understand
revenge—”

Faye leaped to her feet, her words like ice.
“You don’t have the balls for revenge; you don’t have the brains
for it.” She came around the desk and stared at them with contempt.
“So are you going to arrest me?” she said to Nicolas.

“But why?” Jackie asked.

Faye saw the look of pain on Jackie’s face
and her mask of disdain briefly crumbled. “I didn’t know innocents
like you still existed. I don’t know how you can live so hopeful
when your life has been as cruel as mine. I tried to live life and
forgive, but I couldn’t.”

“But he’s serving his time.”

Faye looked as though she wanted to spit.
“Serving his time? Do you consider getting a master’s degree
serving time? Do you call three square meals, an exercise facility,
and library, plus the ability to remarry suffering? He has a better
life in prison than he had on the streets.” She toyed with her
necklace. “When I saw his daughters walk into this office like the
same useless and disgusting trash he is, I couldn’t bare it.”

“And you hate trash,” Mack said, glancing
around the pristine office.

“Yes, I do,” she said simply. “Especially the
type that breathes. The type that fills the city streets and
ghettos of this city. Some move forward. But others continue to
live off the backs of others like parasites. Althea and Claudia
were like their parents—they would have died eventually. Claudia
from cirrhosis of the liver; Althea would be shot by an angry
boyfriend. I couldn’t wait that long.” She turned to Jackie. “You
wanted to help them, but you couldn’t have. You didn’t know what
they were really about. They were greedy and disobedient. They
wouldn’t show up for sessions and if they did they would have
attitudes. As though society owed them something.”

She sat. “So these were the two precious
girls my parents had gone to visit.” A cold smile spread on her
face. “I enjoyed killing them. Taking pictures of their bodies was
the best. I think I spent around four rolls of film. Every week I
sent a picture to him. I wish I could have seen that bastard’s face
when he saw them. His dear dead daughters. I hope the images haunt
his mind.”

Nobody spoke.

Nicolas came toward her.

“I never trusted you,” she said.

His blue eyes pierced hers. “The feeling was
mutual.” He handcuffed her. “You’re under arrest for the deaths of
Althea Williams and Claudia Meeks. You have the right to remain
silent...”

 

***

 

Jackie sat alone in the office. She could
hear the phone on the front desk ringing. There was no one there to
answer it; Patty had been taken away for questioning. Instead of
her dreams of expanding HOPE Services, she faced two empty offices
and the likelihood that all funding would be cut. Two women she’d
come to see as allies in this struggle against poverty and
degradation were in fact enemies. Why hadn’t she seen it? Was she
really that foolish?

She remembered Winstead’s words that nobody
cared about helping derelicts. If the very people who set out to
help them used funding for their own purposes, perhaps he was
right. Perhaps nobody really did.

Clay came into the room. “Jackie?”

She looked up at him, but didn’t really see
him He walked toward her troubled by the sadness in her eyes. It
looked too much like hopelessness, as though the realities of life
had finally shattered the light of her soul.

“Did you know about Faye all along?” she
asked.

He shook his head. “No. The dinner with Kevin
gave me suspicions of her involvement, but I never thought Faye
would intentionally hurt anyone. I didn’t realize the extent of her
involvement until Mum mentioned how different “Emmerick” sounded on
the phone. I also could never get over why Emmerick was acting out
of character by harassing you. Things didn’t seem to fit, then I
saw Mack and his daughter. Suddenly, I thought about how the past
affects the present and how things can be connected. At that moment
things began to click.”

“Oh,” she said with little interest.

He sighed.

“Come on,” he said. “Let me take you
home.”

Chapter Thirty

Jackie woke up
just as the sun began to spread across the city. She sat by the
window in Clay’s apartment, wrapped in a blanket. For two days now
she’d been huddled like a broken animal. She didn’t speak or eat or
sleep, either sitting on the couch or by the window. She knew she
had not been good company, but she didn’t care. She only wanted to
hide.

She felt as though she could no longer trust
anyone. She was afraid to. Afraid that her judgment would be wrong,
again. So deadly wrong. How could the face of evil appear as a
friend? Despite the beauty of the coming day, she could only see
shadows, the danger. She wanted to hide forever. Life held no
joy—it was a soup that offered no sustenance. A meal only enjoyed
by the simple, those who could not differentiate between water and
wine. She’d tasted life’s bitterness and could consume no more.

What hope was there when such cruelty
existed? How could she run a program promising something she no
longer believed in? She knew there was no ultimate sanctuary and
there would always be pain. Jackie closed her eyes.

She opened them when she heard tapping on the
window. She glanced to see what it was and gasped. “It can’t be.”
She raced to the sleeping figure in the bed and shook him. “Clay,
wake up.”

“No,” he grumbled.

She shook him harder. “Please! This is
important.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“No.”

He reluctantly sat up. “What is it?”

She pointed to the window. “Look.”

He squinted at the window and saw a yellow
and blue budgie. He jumped out of bed. “I don’t believe it.” He
opened the window. “Laura?”

The bird flew onto his shoulder and
chirped.

Clay removed Laura from his shoulder and sat
on the bed, staring at the bird in wonder. “This has to be a
dream.”

Jackie clasped her hands together, the sight
of the bird edging away the fears and doubts she’d started to cling
to. But it wasn’t Laura that removed them. It was the gentleness
with which Clay held Laura, the way he stroked her head despite the
slight tremor of his hand. How she trusted him; Jackie understood,
for he treated her with the same tenderness. With him she always
felt safe and cherished. She laughed to think how she’d once
thought him so cold and unfeeling.

Jackie rested her cheek against Clay’s bare
back and closed her eyes. At that moment she felt one with him.
There was no difference in age, no difference in height, no
difference in experience, no difference at all. She felt the depth
of her love for him and it filled her heart with courage. The
courage to live and trust and dream. Jackie sat up and stared at
the bird, thankful for its return. “I knew she would come
back.”

Clay turned to her and an unknown tension
eased. He’d been afraid he’d lost her to the sadness that had
haunted him all his life. But no . . . she was free. They both
were. “You knew it, huh?” He smirked. “Is that because that’s how
fairy tales end?”

“Yes.” She smiled with such unmitigated joy,
he felt his heart move. He knew then that he loved her. He loved
her in a way that gave him strength, that made him feel fully
alive. It replaced the pain he’d long carried with him—a once
trusted companion. Now he felt hope. He shook his head. He’d never
felt that before. He’d been searching for it and seeing it out of
reach. Now it was here in this room, in his heart.

He no longer had to sit in a church to find a
quiet sanctuary. He had only to look at Jackie to find safety and
peace in her bright gaze. His mischief maker had completely
bewitched him, and he felt no shame or fear in that knowledge, just
a firm belief that that was how it was supposed to be.

He set Laura on his dresser drawer, then
grabbed his clothes. He began to whistle.

“I’ve never heard you whistle before.”

“I’m talking to Laura.”

Jackie stared at him. “You’re acting
strange.”

He stood and opened the door. “It’s probably
because I’m in love with you.”

She leaped out of bed and followed him into
the kitchen. “What?”

He searched inside the fridge. “What would
you like for breakfast?”

She tugged on his arm, wanting him to look at
her. “Who cares? What did you just say?”

Clay put a finger to his lips. “Quiet or
you’ll wake Mum.”

She threw up her hands. “I don’t care. She
doesn’t get up until noon anyway.” Jackie stood in front of him,
blocking his access to the fridge. “Did you say you loved me?”

He gently pushed her to the side. “I said I’m
in love with you. It’s an ongoing sickness.”

“I have it, too.”

He nodded. “Yes, it’s very important to love
yourself.”

“Clay,” she said, exasperated with this
playful mood. “I’m in love with you.”

He waved a hand as though fending her off. “I
know.” He turned to the sink.

She wrapped her hands around his waist, again
resting her cheek against his back. “What are you going to do about
it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

She took a step back and frowned. “What do
you mean you don’t know?”

He looked at her a moment, then handed her
his keys.

She stared at them, confused. “Do you want me
to go somewhere?”

“They’re the keys to everything I own. My
place, my car, my job, the safety deposit box where I keep my
girlie magazines—collector’s editions.”

“Why are you giving them to me?”

“They’re yours.”

Jackie grasped them to her chest, feeling the
grooves bite into her palm. “They’re mine?” she said
breathlessly.

He trapped her against the fridge, his heart
reflecting in his eyes. “They’re yours. Which means all that I have
is yours. It means you taught me how to live, how to breathe, how
to feel. You taught me that being a man isn’t about being alone,
it’s about risking being wrong, trusting. It is about knowing when
you’re weak, knowing when you need help, and asking for it. It
means I want to wake up to you every morning and go to bed with you
every night. It means I’ll never run away again because with you
I’m always home.”

Jackie stared at him speechless.

“I’m asking you to marry me, in case you’re
not sure.”

Jackie gazed at the keys, running a hand over
them as though they were diamonds. She looked up and said, “The
answer is yes.”

He lifted her in his arms and held her tight,
then closed his eyes and whispered, “Thank you, Mischief.”

“For what?”

Clay drew back and smiled. “Helping me
believe in happy endings.”

 

***

 

Clay stood by his office window as a fierce
February wind swept through the city, touching trees and buildings
with frost. He opened the window, inhaling a freezing blast. He
loved the winter. How it chilled his skin and made the air feel as
though it could break. He still had the holiday picture postcard
Cassie and Adriana had sent of the new family members, Julie and
Geoffrey, dressed like reindeer. Eric had been right. He’d gotten
his boy and three hundred dollars for a bet he and Drake had.
Strangely enough, Drake didn’t seem very upset about losing. He was
too proud of how Jackie had managed to keep HOPE Services running.
As president, she had reorganized the entire company, inspiring
corporate companies to invest in her endeavors.

In the spring, Clay and Jackie hoped to move
into their new town house where Laura and her new friend Howard
would have a large room to fly around in. Plus, they’d have a nice
guest room for when his mother visited in the summer.

“Brr! It’s freezing in here.”

He turned as Jackie entered the room, bundled
in a red winter coat and a hat she had pulled down to her eyebrows.
“Are you ready to go home?”

Home
. He loved that word. He shut the
window, then took her hand. “Yes, I am.”

~ The End ~

 

 

 

Titles

If you enjoyed this novel by National Bestselling
Author Dara Girard you might enjoy her other works:

 

Table for Two
(Book 1 in Henson Series) A
woman who’s given up on love meets a man who is hard to resist.

 

Gaining Interest
(Book 2 in Henson Series) A
savvy woman with a weakness for bad boys meets a man who definitely
isn’t one. Or is he?

 

The Daughters of Winston Barnett
An immigrant
father of five daughters has to deal with their love lives and
ambitions.

 

The Sapphire Pendant
A woman retrieves a
priceless heirloom and discovers a family secret and precious
love.

 

Honest Betrayal
A woman marries for
convenience and uncovers secrets in her husband's past.

 

The Lady Next Door and Other Stories
a
collection of five short stories.

 

The Writer Behind the Words
a book for
writers

 

Find out about these books and many more on her
website at
http://www.daragirard.com
and you can also visit
her on Facebook at:
http://www.facebook.com/DaraGirard

About the Author

National
bestselling author Dara Girard is an award-winning, multi-published
author of more than twenty novels. Dara loves to travel, eat French
pastries and hear from readers.

Visit
http://daragirard.com
to
contact the author and find out more about her current and upcoming
books or join her newsletter.

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