Hush (5 page)

So much for not touching
.

“When Megan died, I did exactly what I swore I’d never do. I took a get-out-of-jail-free card. Instead of staying here and dealing with the heartache I’d caused, I ran like hell.”

To keep from interrupting him, she held her breath. Enlisting in the military and putting himself in harm’s way hardly seemed like playing a get-out-of-jail-free card to her.

A sharp line appeared between his eyebrows. “Of course running away didn’t work. The harder I tried to forget about Megan’s death, the more it haunted me.”

She let out her breath. Everywhere his thumb touched, sparks followed, but the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach anchored her to reality. Each word he spoke made it increasingly clear that Megan’s ghost stood between them. And if her ghost stood between them after all this time, no doubt it always would. “You’re still not over Megan,” she blurted. Apparently, as absolutely crackers as it seemed, she was jealous of a dead woman.

“Not true at all. Megan killed herself precisely because I
was
over her, because I broke up with her—at least that’s what I believed at the time.” His head tilted to the side. “Megan was seeing someone else. Did you know about that?”

Her hand stifled a sharp gasp, and then she stuttered, “W—what? Who?”

“You sure you don’t know who Megan was seeing? I mean in this town it’s hard to keep anything secret.” His eyes narrowed, as if he thought she might be lying to him.

Her head jerked up. “I’ve had just about enough of this, Charlie. I’m tired of talking about her. If I knew a damn thing about Megan and another man, I would’ve told you at the time. I would not, could not, have let you carry that guilt around with you. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to leave.” To control the shiver in her voice, she kept it low. “And I’ll be taking you up on your offer of not bothering me again—
ever
.”

He stopped making thumb circles and slipped his fingers around her wrist like a manacle. She twisted her hand, tugging, trying to get free.

“Don’t run away. It doesn’t work. Trust me I know from personal experience. I had to come back and face my demons.” He hesitated. “And…Anna, I came back for you.”

His words rang in her ears and echoed in her thoughts.
Anna, I came back for you
.

It took her a beat to catch her breath. “Well, you took your sweet time about it, didn’t you? I
loved
you, Charlie.” She tried to blink away the stinging sensation in her eyes. “There, I said it.
I loved you
. And you left town without even saying goodbye. I had to hear it from Nate you’d run off to enlist.”

“And I’m trying to tell you, trying to show you, how sorry I am. That’s why I came home. I never should have left you without trying to make sense of what was happening between us, because the truth is I
knew
you loved me. But…surely you can see how overwhelming that felt under the circumstances.”

Her mouth had gone to cotton, and she could hardly swallow. She didn’t want to talk about this anymore. All she wanted was to go back to pretending that none of it mattered. Everything had been just fine right up until the moment Charlie showed up and started dredging up the past. With Simone’s assistance, Anna had hired a night nurse to help with their father, and that had freed her to finally get her own place. She loved her job at the library, and Mrs. Marlowe had even arranged a special schedule so that Anna could take classes at a nearby community college. Then ten months ago, she had become a doting and very happy aunt to little Bobby. Life was good
,
and she’d worked hard to make it that way.

The last thing she needed was Charlie coming around saying sorry.

The last thing she needed was to remember all those horrible nights she’d lain sleepless in her bed, anguishing over the way he’d left and terrified he’d be killed in combat.

On a hard sigh she said, “I get it. You knew I loved you. How stupid of me to think you’d be the only one in town who didn’t. Naturally, you found the fact that I loved you overwhelming, and that’s why you didn’t bother to say goodbye. That’s why I haven’t had a word from you in six years even though I was supposed to be your best friend.”

“I didn’t write to you, Anna, because I wasn’t
whole
.” His face drained of color. With his free hand he tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I know you’ve heard about that bomb that took out most of my squad, and I guess maybe it seems to you like everything should’ve become crystal clear to me right then and there. They say your life flashes before your eyes, but it didn’t happen that way for me. I was just so damn sad after…but I did know one thing: I’d been spared when others had died, and I had damn well better make my life count for something.”

Her imprisoned hand had gone as numb as her heart. “So you decided to become a doctor.”

“Yeah. After the Army, I went to college. And it wasn’t until a couple of years ago, when my mom visited me at UT, and she told me she was leaving my old man, that I started going to a psychologist. At first I went with my mom, because she asked me to, but later, I kept going on my own. Anna, I had to be sure I wouldn’t turn into the kind of man my father is. Until then, I couldn’t even think of being in the kind of relationship that might turn into something real.”

Her arm throbbed all the way to her elbow, and she could feel his pulse bounding against her wrist, hear the anguish in his voice.

“But that wasn’t the only problem. Megan told me she loved me, and I couldn’t love her back—not when all I ever thought about was you. I believed Megan killed herself because of me, and Megan was strong. Anna you were so fragile. I couldn’t risk hurting you. Don’t you see that?”

Actually she did. And that ought to have made everything better, only it didn’t. She’d always known Charlie had been running from his guilt about Megan’s suicide, no matter how misplaced that guilt had been. What she hadn’t ever truly understood was why he’d left town without a word to her, his best friend. And then, the very worst thing ever:
Six years of radio silence
.

Now she understood. Now she had closure. Well closure was highly overrated. She didn’t feel better at all. In fact, she wanted to spit and scream and yes, she wanted to cry. But that wasn’t her style. She kept her voice soft, unrattled. “You think I’m fragile?”

Looking down at her wrist he seemed to become aware of how tightly he gripped it and loosened his hold, but he didn’t let her go. “I thought you were fragile at the time, yes. Think about your childhood, Anna. You barely even spoke until you were twelve years old.”

“And you think I whispered because I’m fragile?” Her voice became dangerously
uncalm
, and she wrenched her hand free from his grasp. “You don’t have any idea how hard that was for me.”

The truth she’d never told anyone, not even her own sister, came rushing out. “I whispered because
my
old man told me that if I was quiet, if only I was a good little girl and didn’t make so much noise when Daddy had a headache, maybe my mommy would come back home. And I
believed
him. I poured him another drink, and then I shut my mouth. Even after Daddy took back everything he’d said, even after he dragged me to all those doctors and begged me to talk, I kept on whispering, because I wanted to believe I could make my mother come back home.”

A harsh laugh shook through her. “I’m not fragile, Charlie. Not in the least. What other girl do you know who’d be strong enough to play the quiet game for five whole years?”

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he drew her near. “I only wish I’d been as strong. I should’ve been there for you. You have every right to be angry, baby—with your mother, your father—with
me
.”

“Angry?” Her throat closed around the word. Could it really be anger that fueled this hard heat inside her chest?

Charlie lifted his fingers and traced her lips, the blue blaze in his eyes smoldering into deep pewter. His touch was a balm, softening her heart, and somehow all that bubbling anger she hadn’t owned before changed course, transforming itself into urgent, physical need. Suddenly, all she could feel was the white-hot ash of unfulfilled desire.

A dull thud sounded in her ears, and she recognized it as the noise of her purse falling to the floor. As Charlie’s finger continued to scald a path across her lips, he opened his knees until his thigh touched hers. Her pulse rampaged all over her body. She’d wanted this man since the day she’d been old enough to recognize physical desire, and now, at least in this particular moment, he wanted her too. She drew a slow, determined breath—whatever happened between them tonight was going to be on
her
terms.

“I’m so sorry, Peaches…”

“Shut up, Charlie.” She slipped her hand under his T-shirt, and the muscles in his abdomen bunched beneath her touch. His skin was hot and slick beneath her palms as she explored his chest, testing herself, unsure how far she wanted to take this.

He groaned, clearly wanting more. She crossed her legs to ease the pressure building between her thighs. She wanted more too. Grasping the hem of his shirt, she yanked it over his head, tossed it aside and let her eyes linger on the cut muscles of his chest, then drift to his jeans where his burgeoning arousal was evident.

“I’ve waited so long to feel your touch.” He breathed the heated words into her ear.

Drawing back, she watched his face darken with need. She teased his nipples, then slid her hands lower, sketching the long hard shape of him.

“That’s so nice, Anna.” He half spoke, half groaned, before capturing her hands in his and pushing her back on the couch.

She caught his salty male scent as he came over her, the weight of his body pressing her into the cushions. He brushed rough, wet lips over the nape of her neck, and thick pleasure poured through her like honey through a comb, filling her hollow places, replacing what was empty with what was sweet.

She was too lost in that heavy sweetness to hear the door open, or the footsteps that must have followed. Charlie heard though, because he bolted upright and threw his hand protectively across her. On her back, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into the dilated pupils of her brother-in-law.

Sweat poured from Nate’s hairline, and his face was red and puffy. His breath stank of whiskey. It looked as though he’d run the distance from his place to Charlie’s—but of course that was unlikely.

“I tried your house first, Anna. I thought I might find you here.” Panting, Nate doubled over. “Have you…have you heard from Simone?”

She jerked to a sitting position and forced her breathing to slow. Charlie tried to wrap his arm around her. Instinctively she pulled away. Every muscle in her body went taut and battle ready. “No. I haven’t seen Simone. Not since yesterday. What is it, Nate? What’s wrong?”

“S-something terrible. Simone never came home last night.” His hands were shaking and his voice tore open in a sob. “Simone and Bobby are missing.”

Chapter Four

Tangleheart: Monday, 9:00
P.M.

S
HERIFF
H
AWKINS HAD
called a meeting at Nate’s place and assembled all the
guests
in the family room. Hawkins instructed everyone to take a seat in a semicircle around the coffee table. As the sheriff paraded around the circle, raising an eyebrow here, shooting a distrustful glance there, Charlie couldn’t help but think the only thing necessary to complete the whole mystery-movie atmosphere was Colonel Mustard brandishing a candlestick. Hands were nervously stuffed into pockets, feet were shuffled, and brows were wiped. Tea was even served—by Jenny Jacoby.

Jenny, a student at the Tangleheart culinary school, boarded with Nate’s parents, Caleb and Lila Carlisle, in exchange for cooking and cleaning. Sheriff Hawkins insisted Jenny attend the meeting because she was the last known person to see Simone and Bobby. Caleb Carlisle insisted, despite the sheriff’s protests, that the young woman be put to use. So Jenny had made tea, and while Hawkins paced, she cheerfully poured fragrant liquid into flowery cups whose handles were far too small for Charlie’s thumbs.

At last, Jenny sat on the couch next to Anna. Anna had seated herself next to Charlie—he considered that a good sign.

“Everyone got their tea?” The sheriff tossed a daggered glare at Caleb Carlisle, clearly displeased the older man had usurped his authority. “Good.” He answered his own question, thwarting any further delay. “Then I’d like to retrace Simone Carlisle’s steps on the day she went missing.”

Charlie’s legs had gone stiff, but he resisted the urge to get up and stretch. Hawkins seemed to need the advantage of being the only man standing in order to maintain control of the room.

Hawkins approached Anna. “You say you saw your sister around 10
A.M.
on Sunday. She was wearing her yellow Anne Klein jogging suit and black Nike tennis shoes. Is that right, Miss Kincaid?”

Anna’s fingers clenched around her teacup. “Yes. I saw her at the library.”