Page 39 of Bed of Thorns

He took his time, pulling his napkin from his lap, wiping his mouth then washing the bite of his bloody steak down with a gulp of red wine. I shuddered from watching the simple yet telling action, my mind driven to repulsive places. Blood everywhere. Sirens. Tears.

Sighing, I looked away, swirling my index finger around the rim of the glass. He’d selected the restaurant, the wine, and even suggested he order for me. Fucking chauvinistic pig. My skin crawled being this close to him.

“Actually, I am, Mercedes. I can see there’s a lot you don’t know about me. I’m hoping to change that tonight.”

Did the man really believe I was going to spend all night with him, learning all about his likes and dislikes, his preference in sexual positions? He was a nutcase if he did. “I’m also curious how you were tasked to work on Edmond’s case. Weren’t you fresh out of law school?”

That wasn’t the truth. William had been a prosecutor for almost three years at that point, his record making him the darling of the prosecutor’s office. He sported the record of one hundred percent of the cases he’d tried, he’d won. They didn’t call him the Shark for nothing.

Then again, his famous daddy might have had something to do with his success. A powerful senator, he’d pigeonholed his son into following in his footsteps. Our poor political system.

Perhaps I’d learned far too much about the man, which made me even more disgusted that I was sitting here in a gorgeous, expensive restaurant with such a reprehensible asshole.

The only way I could tell he was bothered by my comment was the way his eyes flashed. It wasn’t anger exactly but something much darker. I sensed he enjoyed his job far too much.

“Actually, sweet Mercedes, I’d been the lead prosecutor in the state of Maine for over three years at that point. Given the horrific, heinous crime, the state only wanted the best in order to place the guilty man behind bars. Now, I’m curious. Why do you care so much? You don’t even know him. Maybe I saved you from being carved into pieces just like poor Damien Ryker.”

Gasping, I jerked up, struggling to breathe.

Carved into pieces? Was that really the truth? I wrapped my hands around my throat, horrible, bloody images remaining in my mind. Oh, God. Oh… No!

Ghost whispers tickled my face, a light breeze and a slight whistling sound floating all around me. I blinked several times, trying to understand.

Carved…

Where was I? Paralyzed, I realized that I’d been sleeping, the nightmare still fresh in my mind. A dull ache remained in my head, the throbbing pushing against my forehead. I could still see William’s face. His damn smile. I turned my head, comprehending the sound was the waves still slicing against the shore, a small rumble of thunder in the distance.

The blackness of the night was cut by a strange eerie glow of blue dancing just outside the open screened-in door, pulsing like a heartbeat. Shivering, the memory refused to let me go, the ugly conversation I’d had with the man turning my stomach. I continued to try to catch my breath, waiting until the visions passed before turning my head.

Edmond.

Shaking like a leaf, I reached out to the sleeping man then yanked my hand away, fearful I’d wake him. He seemed peaceful in his sleep, his breathing deep and regular. I kept my gaze locked on him for at least a full minute, trying to imagine what horrors had been left out of the media stories. I just couldn’t… No. I wasn’t going to do this.Think of Edmond. He’s not a monster.

Unable to resist, I eased my arm from underneath the sheet, gently caressing his face. He stirred, murmuring and briefly opening his eyes. I could swear he was fully aware, his eyes searching mine, but I couldn’t see anything more than an outline of his handsome silhouette.

My hair remained damp, but my entire body was heated from the rounds of passion we’d shared. We’d finally tumbled into bed sometime after midnight, snuggling together. While I’d been exhausted, sleep hadn’t come easily.

Tingles remained coursing through me. He’d left the bed sometime in the middle of the night, doing everything he could to remain quiet. I’d wanted to follow him, but I realized he’d needed time alone.

Maybe we both did.

An agonizing wave of anxiety slipped in, driving the quivers away. Someone would find us. My instinct told me that karma wasn’t finished with Edmond just yet. A stake hadn’t been driven into his heart, only his soul.

Hatred began to build, the kind that could become overwhelming, controlling every aspect of my life. If only I hadn’t been a child, at least at first. If only I’d begged my mother to tell me everything. If only I’d gone to the authorities, demanding they provide me with answers, nagging them constantly until they’d given in.

If only.

There was no way I could close my eyes again. None. I was too fearful of reliving the moment. Maybe I continued to have a twinge of guilt for saying yes to William’s invitation, no matter the reason.

After slipping out of bed, I grabbed Edmond’s tee shirt, pulling the fabric to my nose. It smelled just like him, ripe with masculinity and musk. I drank in his scent, tingling all over and allowing the sweeter memories to override the ones tinged in ugliness.

And deceit.

I remained as quiet as possible, slipping into the single piece of clothing then padding out of the room. Edmond had brought in our personal things, but we hadn’t taken the time to unpack or even explore the house. Everything remained a huge blur, the sudden change in my life weighing heavily on my mind. Had I done the right thing in leaving everything I knew, including a paying job?

The answer was like every other one in my mind, impossible to decipher.

After finding a light on one of the tables in the living room and flicking it on, I held my arms, turning in a full circle. The cottage was very nice, beachy and designed with comfort in mind. His cellmate’s brother had done an excellent job of keeping everything in order. I made my way into the kitchen, surprised how modern it was given the owner remained in prison.

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