Treacherous (The Wolf Pack Series) (11 page)

“Would you like some coffee? I’m going to make some coffee.” Abruptly she spun on her heel and marched toward the kitchen, her bare feet slapping sharply against the hardwood floor.

“I want you to go with me,” Grant called after her.

She nearly doubled over. Somehow she managed to stay upright and reach the kitchen, where she quickly busied herself with brewing a pot of coffee she didn’t even want.

She didn’t know why she was so shocked by Grant’s announcement. He’d already warned her that he was considering this move. But she hadn’t expected him to make such a momentous, life-changing decision so soon. She thought she’d have more time.

She
needed
more time.

Grant followed her into the kitchen. “Did you hear what I said, Celeste? I want you to go to Minnesota with me.”

“I heard you.” She kept her back to him. “You’re asking me to leave my husband.”

There was a long silence. “Yes.”

She closed her eyes, tightly gripping the coffee canister. “I’m not ready.”

“I think you are,” Grant countered softly. “Your reaction to my news tells me you’re more ready than you even realize.”

Celeste swallowed hard, saying nothing.

He came up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her back against him. She shivered as his warm lips nuzzled the side of her throat, sending currents of sensation charging through her body.

“Come with me,” he whispered urgently against her ear. “You’ve told me how you always intended to leave Atlanta after graduating from college. You’ve been feeling trapped here, but it doesn’t have to stay that way. Come to Minnesota with me. We can start over fresh, just you and me. I’ll buy you any house you want, and we’ll travel around the world together, see all the beautiful places you’ve always dreamed of visiting.”

Celeste whimpered, stunned by how desperately she wanted the things he spoke of. An escape from the drudgery her life had become, a new beginning. All she had to do was say yes, and she could have everything she’d ever desired.

Sensing her weakening resolve, Grant slowly turned her around, keeping her in the circle of his arms. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared into his glittering green eyes, filled with promise and unmistakable love.

She didn’t resist as he lifted her onto the counter and stepped between her legs. At the feel of his thick erection pressed against her belly, a slow, sensual heat spread through her veins, pouring into her groin.

Sinking his hands into her hair, Grant lowered his mouth to hers. Her eyes fluttered shut as he parted her lips and slid his tongue between them, stroking and retreating in a wickedly carnal dance. Her pulse thundered as she deepened the kiss, erotically gliding her tongue against his.

Suddenly she couldn’t remember why this was so wrong, having her lover there, in the home she shared with her husband and her children. All that mattered was that she loved Grant, and she needed him more than anything she’d needed in a very long time.

Her head fell back as he kissed the column of her throat, then slipped his hand between the folds of her robe and cupped her breast through her satin nightgown. She shivered, electric fire sweeping over her skin. He stroked her erect nipple, and when touching her wasn’t enough, he lowered his head to suck the beaded flesh into his mouth.

A broken moan erupted from her throat. She arched against him, craving more of the pleasure he offered.

She was so far gone that she didn’t hear the front door open, didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late.

“What the—”

Her eyes flew open to find Marcus standing in the kitchen doorway, taking in the intimate scene with a look that Celeste knew she would never forget for as long as she lived.

By the time she and Grant sprang guiltily apart, Marcus’s shocked horror had morphed into a savage rage that launched him forward like a missile fired from a cannon. Snarling furiously, he took a hard swing at Grant that caught him squarely in the chest, knocking him backward.

“Marcus, no!” Celeste screamed, hopping down from the counter and landing awkwardly on her ankle.

“You son of a bitch!” Marcus shouted viciously at Grant as Celeste hobbled forward and tackled him around the waist. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Grant held up a restraining hand. “Now just hold on there—” Marcus lunged forward. “Don’t tell me—”

“Baby, please!” Celeste cried, wrestling her enraged son to the floor and clamping her legs around his, as if she were restraining a violent patient at the hospital.

She glanced up quickly at Grant. “Please go. I’ll take care of this.” He hesitated, looking concerned. “Let me help—”

“
JUST GO!
” she screamed at him.

He took one last glance at Marcus struggling in her arms, frowned deeply, then turned and strode out of the kitchen.

Marcus yelled after him, “You ever come back here and I’ll kill you!”

“Stop this!” Celeste pleaded desperately. “You don’t understand, baby. Just listen to me.
Please
.”

Tears sprang to Marcus’s eyes, and he let out a choked little sob that broke Celeste’s heart. And then suddenly, like a powerful storm wreaking a path of destruction before subsiding, he went limp in her arms.

And that was the moment Celeste realized that he would never be the same again. Her baby boy had lost his innocence.

And she was to blame.

“Darling, please,” she sobbed brokenly, rocking him back and forth in her arms. “Please try to understand. I didn’t remember that you had an early dismissal today. I
never
would have let you see me with Grant that way if I’d remembered!”

Marcus sniffled, then untangled himself from her and climbed slowly to his feet. She eyed him warily, as if he were a wild animal whose next move she was trying to anticipate.

He wouldn’t even look at her. “Does Dad know?” he asked in a raw whisper.

Celeste hesitated, tugging her robe protectively around her body. “I was going to tell him, Marcus. I
swear
.”

“Why?”

“Because he deserves to know—”

“NO!” he roared so loudly that she jumped. “I meant why’d you do it?
Why,
Ma
?”

Bitter, scalding tears streamed from Celeste’s eyes, blurring her son’s image.

“Marcus, there are so many things about your father and me that you don’t understand. We’ve been having problems—”

“So you brought another man in here?”

She shook her head quickly. “Darling, please listen to me. I’m your mother—” She broke off at the look of scathing contempt that filled his face. He stood over her with his small fists balled at his sides. Half man. Half wounded boy.

Looking her in the eye, he said coldly, “I don’t have a mother anymore.” Celeste died a thousand deaths. As an anguished sob welled in her throat, she burst out hysterically, “You don’t mean that! Please, baby—” She tried to launch herself at his legs, but he pivoted sharply on his heel and stomped out of the kitchen. As she scrambled to her feet, her ankle screamed in protest. Ignoring the sharp pain, she stumbled after Marcus. But by the time she reached the living room, he’d already stormed out the front door, slamming it so hard that the family portraits on the wall rattled and crashed to the floor.

Sidestepping broken shards of glass, Celeste hurried to the door, flung it open, and limped onto the porch.

“
Marcus!
” she called after him as he stalked furiously down the street. “Baby, please come back!”

She watched as he stopped at the home of the Nigerian woman who used to babysit him and Michael. After several moments the front door opened, and Marcus disappeared inside.

Wrapping her arms around her heaving midsection, Celeste turned and hobbled back into her house. She’d barely crossed the threshold before shame overtook her, sending her to the floor in a crumpled heap of sorrow and regret.

Sterling had just strode through the door of his office that afternoon when his phone rang. Reaching his desk, he snatched up the receiver and grunted,

“Detective Wolf.”

There was a pregnant pause. “Sterling, this is Mrs. Akonye.”

“Oh, hey, Mrs. Akonye,” Sterling said warmly as he dropped into his chair.

“How’re you doing?”

“I’m doing fine, my dear. I hate to bother you at work, but I wanted you to know that Marcus is here.”

Sterling smiled. “Uh-oh. Did that boy forget his key again?”

“Well…”

“Celeste is probably sleeping. She worked a double shift yesterday. Just tell Marcus to knock harder so she’ll hear him.”

“He didn’t forget his key,” Mrs. Akonye said in a carefully measured tone. “He went home first, and then he came here.”

A dagger of alarm shot through Sterling. “Why? Is everything okay?”

“I’m afraid not. He’s very upset, Sterling. He won’t say what happened, but he doesn’t want to go back home.”

Sterling frowned. “Put him on the phone, please.”

“Just a minute. He’s in the bathroom.”

While he waited for Marcus, Sterling eyed his desk, which was cluttered with files and crime scene photographs and lab reports that needed his immediate attention.

As soon as his son came on the line, nothing else mattered.

“What’s wrong, Little Man?” Sterling asked with concern. “Where’s your mother? Why aren’t you at home?”

On the other end of the phone, Marcus drew a deep, shuddering breath and croaked out, “Can you come get me, Dad? Please?” Sterling was already on his feet, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair and charging from the office. “Sit tight, son. I’ll be right there.” He knew, with a grim sense of fatalism, that the end he’d been bracing for had finally arrived.

“I’m sorry.”

Celeste looked like hell. Her face was ashen, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying, and her hair was a tangled mess. In all the years Sterling had known her, he’d never seen her looking so thoroughly ravaged. If the circumstances had been different—if she hadn’t just ripped their family apart—he would have felt sorry for her.

But of all the emotions raging through him tonight, compassion wasn’t one of them.

Leaning against the dresser with his arms folded across his chest, he regarded his wife as coldly as if he were looking at a complete stranger.

She sat propped against the headboard with her bandaged foot elevated on a pillow to alleviate the swelling in her ankle, which she’d apparently sprained when she hopped down from the kitchen counter too fast.

Dear God
, Sterling thought, his gut tightening with fury at a mental image of Celeste and another man locked in a passionate embrace, so caught up in each other that they hadn’t even heard Marcus enter the house.

Celeste continued remorsefully, “I know there’s absolutely nothing I can say or do to erase the pain I’ve caused you and our children—”

“Did you fuck him in our bed?” Sterling demanded bluntly.

She shot him a stricken look. “No! Of course not!”

“So you drew the line somewhere.” His lips twisted mockingly. “How decent of you.”

She flinched, her face reddening with humiliation. Dropping her gaze to her lap, she murmured, “I know I deserved that.”

“Damn right you did.”

She swallowed visibly. “You may not believe this, and I know it doesn’t make any difference, but I only slept with Grant once.” Sterling’s eyes narrowed. “Where?”

She hesitated, biting her lip. “At the hospital.” Sterling stared at her, struck by a horrible realization. “It happened a couple weeks ago, didn’t it? The night you were on call, when you came back wearing a different shirt. Yeah, I noticed,” he added caustically when her eyes widened with surprise. “I know you’ve always kept a change of clothes at work for legitimate reasons, and that morning wasn’t the first time you’ve come home dressed differently. But it stuck out to me this time, and now I understand why you were nervous as hell over dinner that night.” Tears swam into Celeste’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, baby,” she said earnestly. “I never meant to hurt you or the boys. You
have
to believe me.”

“I do,” Sterling said, surprising both of them. “As shocked and angry as I am right now, I don’t believe you intentionally set out to hurt anyone. But you did, Cel, and that’s something we’re all gonna have to live with for a very long time.”

She leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped onto her robe. “Do you think Marcus will ever forgive me?” she whispered piteously.

Sterling was silent, thinking of the sullen boy he’d encountered that afternoon when he arrived at Mrs. Akonye’s house. Since Marcus had refused to return home as long as Celeste was there, Sterling had taken him to Burger King, where he’d coaxed the whole story out of him. What devastated Sterling the most—

even more than Celeste’s betrayal—was the thought of the irreparable damage she’d caused to their son’s psyche. No child should ever have to endure what Marcus had suffered that afternoon.

“Do you?” Celeste prompted, breaking into Sterling’s painful reverie.

He met her anxious gaze. “Do I think Marcus will ever forgive you?” She nodded.

“I guess only time will tell.”

She looked crestfallen. It wasn’t the answer she’d wanted, but it was the only one he could give her.

A heavy silence lapsed between them.

“Thank you,” Celeste whispered humbly.

Sterling frowned at her. “For what?”

“For not flying into a blind rage when you found out what happened. For not screaming at the top of your lungs and hurling vicious insults at me, the way I rightly deserve. For not pulling out your service revolver and blowing me to kingdom come.”

Sterling smiled grimly. “Don’t think I wasn’t tempted.” They shared a low, tense chuckle that seemed utterly incongruous under the circumstances.