White Heat (30 page)

Only after Maxine was gone, did he open the door.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why'd you shut us in?” Ethan snapped.

“Serves you right for taking so long,” he said. “I'm tired, and it's my job to lock up and walk the perimeter.”

Had he been less stoned, Ethan might've been angry at this retort, but he was flying too high to let his irritation last. And Titherington knew better than to complain about anything. He was Bart's least favorite of the Guides—other than Joshua. Joshua was as young and attractive as Ethan. But his conscience was beginning to get the best of him. That would eventually make him a security risk.

There was so much to consider when you were running a compound of this size, Bart thought with a sigh. It was the most intriguing game of chess he'd ever played. But whatever move he made against Joshua would have to wait. Tonight, he had the chance to take the queen.

O
nce Rachel realized she wasn't being attacked, she calmed down. “You scared the hell out of me!” she whispered. “How'd you get in here?”

Nate stood in the middle of the room, only a foot away from her. The lights were off and had to stay off, but he could see her outline in the moonlight pouring through the window.

“It wasn't easy. I ran into a couple who stopped me—”

“No!”

“Yes. I thought for sure it was all over. But they must not have been part of the crowd earlier. They didn't recognize me. I told them I was a cement contractor Ethan had invited to stay while I worked on the bids for the new school.”

“And they bought it?” she asked incredulously.

“They bought it. Wished me luck and everything. Said they hoped I'd be here for the next Introduction Meeting.”

She whistled. “That was lucky.”

“We were due for a break. What's been happening around here?”

“I had to swear loyalty to Ethan and his church.” She
held out her arms and turned, displaying the robe she was wearing.

“What's with the new threads?”

“They took all my clothes.”

His gaze dropped to where the robe parted at her cleavage. “So you're not wearing anything underneath?”

“Not a stitch.”

His body reacted to the image his mind so readily supplied, but he tried not to show it. “So this is what they wear after they join up?”

“Following baptism. But they did some other rituals, too. Too bad you had to miss the big event. It was…-quite interesting.”

“Looks that way.” It
still
looked interesting….

“It was also a little disconcerting.”

He studied what he could see of her, but it was difficult to identify nuances of expression. “Ethan didn't…touch you, did he?”

“
Everybody
touched me—while I stood in front of the entire group.”

“What?”

She held up a hand. “Not the way you think.”

“I'm waiting for the details.”

When she gave them to him, he wanted to bash Ethan in the face for making everything so sensual. But Rachel distracted him by putting a gentle finger to his bruised cheek. “How badly are you hurt?”

“I definitely got the worst of it.” He chuckled at the memory. “But I'm okay.”

“You
had
to get yourself beaten up? You couldn't trust me to handle this?”

She sounded upset. Was she assuming he'd shown
up because
he
wanted to be the one to take Ethan down? That he was afraid he'd be upstaged by an underling? A woman? She'd accused him of being sexist. But that wasn't it at all. It was her. He'd come for her.

“You wanted me to sit in that trailer and let you do all the heavy lifting?” he said.

“Not necessarily. I just didn't see the point in you getting hurt.”

“I never would've known which building you were staying in if I hadn't done that.”

“That might not have been a bad thing. I'm not so sure having you here is a smart idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don't want to watch what they'll do to you if they catch—” She stopped. Voices, coming from downstairs, filtered up to them. When it became apparent that Ethan and Bart were coming, her eyes latched on to his and widened until he could see their whites, even in the dark.

“What should we do?” she murmured. “One of them, or both, might come in here. You've got to get out
now.
”

Nate brought a finger to her lips. They weren't going to move. They were on the second story with only one door and one window. He didn't have time to escape through the window, and he couldn't get out through the door. Their only option was to remain absolutely still—and hope for the best.

 

Rachel held her breath as she listened.

“That was amazing.” Ethan's words were slurred as he climbed the stairs. “Didn't you think it was incredible? I could've gone on all night, especially when she
started to beg. That's when I spread her legs and rammed that—”

“Shut up!” Bart cut him off.

“I'm just enjoying the aftermath. When did you turn into such a bitch?”

“We have company. I shouldn't have to remind you of that.”

“She's got to be asleep by now.”

“She doesn't
have
to be anything. Exercise some caution for a change.”

Nate's fingers slipped between hers and Rachel hung on to him. Ethan had mentioned begging. He'd also begun to describe something that sounded very ugly. Had he been talking about Martha—or some other woman? What had he done tonight?

“You're getting on my nerves, you know that?” Ethan said. They were on the landing. Rachel could tell by the volume and proximity of their voices.

“I have a feeling that won't last long,” Bart replied dryly.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means.”

“That you're going to make it up to me?”

“Be quiet!” Bart snapped.

“I don't want to be quiet. Kiss me here. In the hall.”

“Ethan, stop. You don't know what you're saying.”

“I know exactly what I'm saying. And I know exactly what I want.”

“Come on, into the room.”

“I want to do it here, on the landing, right by my wife's door.”

At this, Nate felt for the wedding ring he'd given her and didn't seem pleased when he found it missing.

The sudden quiet made Rachel believe Ethan was getting his wish. It also made her hesitant to speak. Bart and Ethan were so close. But Nate risked it.

“What the hell?” he whispered, the words barely audible as his lips made contact with the rim of her ear.

She moved closer, so he could hear her response. “I was getting to that.”

As she came up against him, his hands slid around her waist, anchoring her to the spot. “Please tell me they're not doing what I think they're doing.”

“They might be…”

“Let's get you to bed,” Bart said, and he must've walked away because the next time Ethan spoke he seemed to be trailing after his lover.

Soon, Rachel could hear the murmur of voices but not the individual words.

“Ethan's
gay?
” Nate whispered, but he didn't let her go.

“I'm beginning to get that feeling.” She told herself to break off the embrace. Now that Ethan and Bart were in their suite, she and Nate could separate and still hear each other. But she couldn't seem to make herself act. Seeing him beaten by the crowd had upset her. Being able to feel him against her, to reassure herself, was too gratifying.

He didn't step away, either. “Wait…I'm confused. Doesn't he teach that homosexuality is an abomination? Or did I just assume that because—”

“I don't think it's merely an assumption, or he wouldn't have to hide his involvement with Bart.”

“What a hypocrite.” He settled her against his hips, and it became apparent that she wasn't the only
one suddenly reacting to their closeness. “I
hate
hypocrites.”

She shivered with the longing that welled up inside her. She'd made love to Nate recently, but she hadn't let her heart participate along with the rest of her. She'd limited her emotional involvement and, therefore, her enjoyment. She regretted that now. Somehow, everything she'd been worried about didn't seem quite as important when they could be dead before the next sunrise. Maybe she should've thrown caution to the winds as soon as they hit Arizona and taken whatever Nate was willing to offer. It could've been an exciting week. A casual relationship was better than nothing, wasn't it? She doubted they'd ever work this closely together again, which meant she'd never have another chance.

“Ethan's full of contradictions,” she said. So was she. She knew there was no point in giving Nate her love, but she couldn't overcome what she felt. When the Covenanters had held him on the ground and were coming at him from all sides, and she hadn't been sure she'd be able to stop them from doing him serious harm, she'd realized it was futile to fight her feelings for him. Whether he cared about her or not, she was in love with him, and there was no changing that.

“How do you explain the orgies?” he asked. “Martha said he participates, with women.” His mouth was an inch from hers. She could feel his breath fan her cheek. She tried not to remember the sensuality of his kiss or how much she enjoyed the softness of his lips and the way they moved on hers.

“She also said he sleeps with other men's wives when he visits the various tents at night.” Wrestling
with the magnetism she felt whenever she was in Nate's presence, she took a deep, steadying breath. “My guess is there's no limit to his depravity. When Abby was here, she picked up on something that suggests they have a pit of some kind, where certain rituals occur. What they are, I don't know. But a pit doesn't sound like a place you'd want to be, does it?”

“Definitely not.”

When the roughness of his chin touched her jaw, she tilted her head so their lips brushed. She wasn't sure if she'd initiated the contact or he had. He certainl hadn't avoided it. But the way her heart slammed against her chest set off a warning bell in her head. She couldn't make love to him again and expect to act indifferent afterward.

Pulling back, she reached for the door handle. “You should go.”

He grabbed her hand. “I'm not leaving. Not yet.”

“But if they catch you here—”

“They won't. We'll wait until they're asleep, or so preoccupied we could tramp through the place without being heard. Then we'll look for Martha.”

“I can do that by myself.”

“I'm going to help you. The sooner we find her, the better. For her, and for you. I want to get you out of here.”

That sounded so protective, as if he cared about her. But he didn't. Like any good leader, he was simply concerned about his team. “It'd be better if you left.”

“Why?”

She had plenty of reasons, but the one she mentioned wasn't the one uppermost in her mind. “If I'm caught snooping around, I can make up some excuse and
maybe Ethan will believe me. If we're caught together, any chance of finding Martha and Sarah or gathering evidence against Ethan will be lost.”

“Then we won't get caught.”

If he wouldn't go, they needed to get to work—or do something else to stop the terrible longing. “Why won't you
ever
cut me a break?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You want me to go.”

“Yes.” She didn't bother to conceal the frustration boiling up inside her. One way or another, she had to get out of this dark bedroom. If she stayed another second, she'd throw herself at him and lose what little self-respect she'd managed to recover since she'd let herself into his condo and given him the surprise of his life.

“Even if I was willing, I can't do that now.”

“Why not?”

“We have to wait, make sure they're asleep.”

She swallowed hard. “How long?”

His lips were at her ear again, teasing, tempting. They were all she could think about. “Fifteen or twenty minutes.”

And what would they do in the meantime? Fifteen minutes sounded like an eternity. She couldn't hold out much longer. She felt as if she were clinging to the side of a cliff and quickly losing her grip.

Succumbing to a fatalistic impulse, she considered letting go. Maybe she'd fall to the rocks beneath, but what a way to go….

“Nate?” she murmured.

“What?”

“What would you do if I kissed you?”

“What do you think?”

“You'd kiss me back.” She just wished it could mean something….

He didn't wait for her to make the first move. Cupping her face in his large hands, he touched his lips to hers.

She didn't want it to be as good as it was. But the pleasure that surged through her confirmed what she'd already guessed. All her efforts to fall out of love hadn't worked. As his tongue slid against hers and his hands parted her robe, she began spinning hopelessly and completely out of control.

A
fraid to use the bed or even a wall for fear they'd make too much noise, Nate urged Rachel down on the carpet. But he was pretty sure she didn't mind. The way she was tugging at his pants told him she was just as desperate, just as eager, as he was.

The rough spontaneity of their actions created the perfect outlet for the emotions that had been raging inside him all day—the worry, the concern, the fear, the anger, even the jealousy. How dare Ethan remove Rachel's wedding ring? How dare he tell Bart she was
his
wife? Ethan had no right. Maybe she wasn't really married to Nate, but Ethan didn't know that.

The relief he felt at being with her, at seeing her so animated and responsive, like she'd been that first time in January, made the pleasure more intense than ever before. This wasn't Susan; Rachel wasn't anything like Susan. He should've realized that long ago. Rachel was tougher than he'd given her credit for, one of the toughest women he'd ever met.

The moan she attempted to stifle as he pushed inside her made him realize he had less control than ever before. They were just getting started and already he was on the edge. It was because he'd been so afraid he'd
never see her again. Yet here she was, wrapping her legs around his hips and pulling him deep.

“You feel so good,” he muttered, but he couldn't think about that or their lovemaking would be over far too soon. He definitely didn't want it to be like it had been at the trailer. This time, she was going to enjoy it as much as she had the very first time they'd been together.

“That's it,” she gasped as he struck a rhythm they both seemed to like. “Don't stop.” As she arched into him, gripping his buttocks, he begged his body not to let him down.
Hang on. Not yet…

Soon they were both breathless and slick with sweat, but he continued to thrust into her, gripping the corner of the dresser for leverage as her hips rocked up to meet his. He thought he didn't have a chance of holding out. But then she gasped and he knew he'd made it. She was there, right where he wanted her to be. They were
both
there.

Throwing back his head, he abandoned his self-control and pleasure ripped through him in a series of bone-melting spasms.

“Tell me you love me,” he said as he sank, exhausted, onto the floor beside her.

Judging by the sudden stiffness of her body, she didn't trust him. “Quit being a jerk,” she said.

Summoning what little energy he had left, he rolled over and caught her chin so she had to look at him. “I'm not being a jerk, Rachel. I
want
to hear it…if it's still true.”

She seemed about to say something but he never got to hear it. Almost before he realized what was happening, he heard a key in the lock.

Grabbing his clothes, he made a dash for cover—and barely reached the bathroom before the door swung open.

 

Rachel's heart never stopped pounding. Pleasure turned instantly to fear as her visitor snapped on a flashlight. She wanted to react immediately, to sit up and demand to know who was entering her room without permission. But she hadn't managed to get into bed. She'd barely had time to belt her robe. At this point, she thought it was smarter to pretend she'd had a crying jag and fallen asleep on the floor. She was so confused about Nate that she
felt
like crying, so it was actually close to the truth.

The beam of the flashlight lingered on the bed before continuing around the room. It stopped the moment it landed on her.

Pretending it was the light that had awakened her, she squinted and blinked and raised a hand to block the glare. “Who—who is it?”

A snap returned the room to darkness, but not before Rachel saw a person dressed in one of the Klan-like robes she'd seen the audience wear at her initiation ceremony. This person seemed tall, but from her position on the floor, almost anyone would.

“Wh-what do you want?” she asked when her previous question went unanswered.

The intruder lunged at her and clamped a hand over her mouth, pressing so tightly she could hardly breathe. Because Nate was in the bathroom and already knew someone had come in, she didn't scream. But the intruder's actions caused a brief squeal of surprise.

“Shut up!” The words were a harsh whisper. “I'm
not going to hurt you. I'm here to warn you. You're not safe. Do you understand? Get out of Paradise before you wind up like—”

That was as far as the masked intruder got before Nate yanked him off Rachel. She tried to stop what came next, but it happened too fast.

The sound of fist on bone made her wince. Then the costume-draped intruder crumpled onto the floor beside her and Nathan stood over them both, shaking his hand.

“Did you break your hand?” Rachel asked.

“I don't think so. Did he hurt you?”

“No. He wasn't here to hurt me. He was trying to warn me. At least, that's what he said.”

“Warn you about what?”

“I didn't get the whole message. He said I needed to get out of Paradise before I wound up like… And then you smashed his face in.”

Nate cursed. “He had to warn you by coming to your room in the middle of the night? By attacking you?”

“Maybe he's afraid of Ethan. Maybe he didn't dare come at any other time. And he wanted to make sure I wouldn't scream.”

“Who is the bastard?” he asked.

At this point, Rachel wasn't even sure the “bastard” was alive. It was rare to be killed with one punch, but the adrenaline surging through Nate's body had likely amplified his strength, and he was strong already.

Picking up the flashlight from where it had fallen, Nate turned it on while she removed the man's hood. But it wasn't a man at all. It was a woman—Ethan's housekeeper.

“Oh, no…” Rachel whispered.

“Tell me she's only out cold…” he responded.

Rachel searched for a pulse at the woman's neck. She was alive, but she wasn't moving. They had to get help.

 

Nate pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to figure out what to do. He'd had no idea the person he'd hit was a woman, but he doubted that would've stopped him even if he'd known. He couldn't tell whether the intruder had entered with a knife. He'd acted instinctively to protect Rachel, and he didn't regret that. Depending on their visitor's intent, this could've gone very differently.

“We have to get her to a hospital,” Rachel said.

He bent to scoop up the limp body, but when the woman moaned and began to turn her head from side to side, Rachel touched his arm.

“Wait, don't move her. Let's see if she's okay.” Crouching over her, they peered into her face.

The housekeeper squinted. “Who—who are you? W-what happened?” Her voice sounded more like a croak as if she'd been suddenly awakened from a lengthy sleep. But it didn't take long for the confusion to clear. “The Vessel,” she muttered. “You're the Vessel.”

Nate sent Rachel a questioning glance. “She means you're a
possible
vessel, right? By Ethan's definition, every woman in the compound is here for his pleasure—a possible vessel.”

“I'm not sure. I might have a slightly elevated status. I
am
living in the Enlightenment Hall.”

“I thought that was temporary protection from me.”

“So did I, but there were a few things said at my initiation that made me wonder—”

The housekeeper interrupted her. “You—you have to get out.” She gingerly prodded her cheek, where she'd taken the blow. “You're not safe here.”

“Why do you say that?” Rachel asked.

She shifted her attention to Nathan. “You—you're her husband.”

“Yes.”

“Take her away. Tonight.”

“Why?”

“I can't say.”

“Sure you can.”

“No. I can't trust you.” She tried to get up, swooned and Rachel caught her as she fell back. “You hit me.”

“I'm sorry. I'm not used to people sneaking into my wife's room in the middle of the night, especially people wearing hoods.”

“But you weren't supposed to be here. How'd you get in?”

“I made my own entrance,” he admitted.

Closing her eyes, she continued to moan quietly.

“Do you need us to take you to a doctor?” Rachel's voice was filled with concern.

“No, I—I'll be okay. In a minute.”

They waited until she could sit up. Then Nate squatted in front of her. “Tell us why you came here.”

“To warn your wife,” she said.

“Warn her about what?”

“Nothing. I have to go.” She managed to get up but wobbled on her feet.

Nate blocked her way to the door. “Why did you feel
it was necessary to tell my wife to leave the compound?”

“It's dangerous here. You heard about the woman who was stoned, didn't you?”

“It's true, then?”

“Of course. I was there.”

Nathan's heart began to race. Had they just found an informant? A witness? That could make a huge difference. “What about Courtney Sinclair? Can you tell me anything about her?”

“I don't want to talk about Courtney. It's not safe for me to be here.”

“If you know about the stoning and you don't agree with it, if you're so scared, why haven't you gone to the police?” Rachel asked.

“Because they can't protect me. They couldn't protect Martha, could they?”

Nate grabbed her arm. “You know Martha went missing? Is she here? Did they bring her back?”

She didn't answer. Jerking away despite her unsteadiness, she reached for the door, but Nate wouldn't let her open it. “What if I told you we could offer you protection?
Real
protection? Would you tell us what you know?”

“No one can offer me real protection.” She touched her injured cheek. “Least of all you.”

“That's not true. We work for a private security company. We have people who are trained in that sort of thing, and they're damn good at it. I promise you we'll provide the manpower. All we need is your testimony.”

“You're not who you said you are?”

Rachel cut in. “We're colleagues—not husband and
wife. We were hired to figure out what's going on here. We're going to stop Ethan, for the sake of Martha, Courtney, Sarah and anyone else who might be at risk. Will you help?”

“You know Sarah's missing, too?”

“We know she helped recapture Martha. Then she disappeared. Help us find her? Can you do that?”

Her eyes shifted between them. “What about my family? My friends?”

“They'll be protected, too. The sooner we put Ethan away, the better off everyone will be.”

Her hair, brown streaked with gray from what Nate could remember, fell forward as she bent to pick up the hood Rachel had removed. She turned it over in her hands, staring at it. “Okay. Meet me downstairs in the storage room off the main laundry. It's just past the kitchen. But give me fifteen minutes to make sure it's safe. If Ethan or Bart find us, we're all dead.”

A Covenanter who'd talk. Now they were getting somewhere. “What's downstairs?” Nate asked.

“Something you should see.”

 

Rachel sat on the bed in silence. Nate was beside her, but she didn't touch him. Not after the frenzy that had consumed them before Ethan's housekeeper had let herself into the room. He'd asked her to say she loved him, but her emotions had been the problem before. He didn't want a commitment. So why he'd said such a thing she had no idea. She needed to push what had occurred between them out of her mind, avoid the confusion. She couldn't deal with it right now.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Sarah,” she lied.

“What about her?”

“I'm wondering why she betrayed Martha.”

“You know the brainwashing people in cults go through. You went through something similar. Ethan probably told her it was God's will. Or she'd be shunned by her family and friends if she didn't do what he said. Some damn thing. Maybe he even threatened her life. You never know. Not with Ethan.”

Rachel said nothing, but her thoughts turned to her father. Why did he insist on living in such a small world? Why couldn't he allow others some freedom of choice, have respect for their decisions?

Nate startled her by taking her hand. “What we were talking about before…?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Before what?”

“When we were making love,” he said pointedly.

It took effort to sound nonchalant, but she managed it. “What about it?”

“I want to discuss it again. After this is all over.”

She pulled away and clasped her hands together in her lap. “I think we should leave it alone.”

“Maybe. But we're going to talk about it, anyway,” he said. Then he checked his watch. “It's time. Let's go.”