Bound by the Past (7 page)

The right thing. Rex and Cassandra never saw it coming. One night, he’d snuck into Rex’s office and gathered every damning piece of evidence he could find. In exchange, he’d wanted Reilly to assure him that before the law was brought in, he would get Night and Sarah out and ensure their names were never mentioned in connection with the cult. Reilly would only consent to his deal if he and Night agreed to train with and join the agency. He’d reluctantly signed on, while Night had jumped at the chance.

Together, they’d planned and executed the downfall of the Commitment Church. And in the end, the only person he’d truly saved was himself.

“Jon, you’ve served your time, done your penance.”

“Really? Sarah’s dead and Night is so wrapped up in his desire for revenge, he’s forgetting to live.”

“Good Lord, man.” Reilly’s voice rose with his anger. “You aren’t perfect. No one is. The difference is, most people learn from their mistakes and move on. You wear yours like a fucking scarlet letter.”

He nearly grinned at his mentor’s apt allusion to the Hawthorne novel he just finished teaching.

“You’re a good man. One I’m proud to call a friend,” Reilly continued. “Now get off your high horse and join the rest of us mortals down here on Earth. Stop worrying about Night. He’s an adult and responsible for his own actions. If he thinks vengeance against Cassandra is the only way he can move on, then that’s his problem. Hell, with genetics like his, it’s a miracle revenge is all he’s after.”

“What does that say about me? My mother’s genes would have given Hitler’s a run for their money.”

“Obviously you inherited all your personality traits from your father. Start thinking about this with your head. Not your heart.”

Heart.
Images of the weekend resurfaced.

“I spent the whole weekend with Carly. She’s a nice, normal girl and I’m crazy about her.”

“Does she know about your past?”

Jon shook his head.

“And how long will you be able to maintain this normal relationship, Jon, without the truth?”

He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, that would be a fun conversation. I love you, Carly. Did I ever tell you about my childhood in a cult? How I raped women for three years under the guise of purifying their souls?”

“Dammit. You didn’t rape anybody. The truth of the matter is those women joined the cult with their eyes wide open, well aware of the expectations. The majority of them joined for the sex and merely tolerated the religious overtones. They welcomed your attention.”

“Sarah.” Jon’s voice broke on the name.

“You tried to save her.” Reilly placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Sarah was his first love. Despite the fact he’d had women throwing themselves at him for most of his teenage years, Jon had taken one look at Sarah McCormick and fallen head over heels in love. A master at bedroom games, he actually had to work up the nerve to steal a first innocent kiss from her.

Then Reilly had opened his eyes to the truth of his idyllic existence.

“If I hadn’t betrayed Rex, she’d still be alive. I thought I was some all-powerful avenging angel.”

“You were young and in love. If you want the truth,” Reilly’s eyes were distant with remembering, “I’ve always blamed myself for Sarah’s death.”

“What?”

“I was the trained professional. I didn’t realize Rex knew about your teenage crush or that he suspected my duality. I thought Sarah would be safe until we could smuggle her out.”

“Reilly—”

“No. I should have realized Rex and Cassandra were on to me the minute Cassie left the compound. I should have moved Sarah to safety then.”

Cassandra’s escape prior to the cult’s downfall was the only thing that had saved her in the aftermath. She’d gone straight to a mental hospital and checked herself in, claiming she’d been kidnapped and held against her will for years. Stockholm Syndrome was the doctor’s diagnosis, when witnesses testified to her seemingly willing participation. She’d undergone counseling and was quietly released only nine months after the trials that sentenced Rex and his fellow leaders to life.

“Rex stayed behind at Cassandra’s insistence.” Jon recalled the conversation he’d overheard the night she left. “They didn’t know it was you. Cassandra assured Rex they’d catch the infiltrator and be back in business in a matter of days. I think she knew the end was in sight. Rex was her fall guy.” It still made him sick to his stomach to think of his mother’s heartless betrayal. She’d sold Rex Thomas down the river to save her faithless neck and Rex, fool that he was, had swallowed her lies like candy.

“You weren’t to blame for Sarah’s death,” Jon added quietly. That blame lay solely on his shoulders—and it was the one secret he’d never told another living soul, not even Night.

“Neither were you.” His mentor seemed determined to have the last word on the subject and, unwilling to discuss it further, Jon let the subject drop.

“What happens when Carly starts to ask questions about your past?”

“Like a dog with a bone, aren’t you? She doesn’t need to know anything about that.” His voice wavered as he spoke. Fact was, Carly was inquisitive and she did deserve to know what kind of man she was getting involved with, but he couldn’t tell her the truth. The whole truth.

“You would lie to the woman you love for the rest of your life? How do you expect to keep something like that up?”

“For Carly,” Jon insisted, “I can do anything. Even lie.” Despite the strength of his conviction, Reilly’s words echoed in his conscience.
Could
he lie to her? Forever?

“And what happens if Cassandra calls you? There’s a good chance she will, you know. She still believes you were true to her cause until the end. That you are the son she raised in her image. She’ll want you with her in this venture.”

“And when I turn her down, she’ll call Night. He was there beside me all the way, and as Rex’s son, she’ll see the potential in involving him. You know as well as I do, he’s praying he gets the call.”

“You were partners in that dungeon, Jon. Cassandra won’t be happy with only one of you. She’ll want the pair.”

His temper rose again. “She’ll have to make do. I’m not throwing away everything I’ve worked so hard for. I really don’t give a shit about Cassandra Walker. As far as I’m concerned, she’s dead.”

Reilly shook his head. He could see that, as far as his former boss was concerned, this conversation was far from finished. “Dammit. We need your help to crack this case. Night can’t go in there alone. It’s too dangerous. I agree with one thing you’ve said tonight. It
is
time to move on. Stop wallowing in self-recriminations and guilt. Bring down Cassie and it all goes away.”

“Don’t you think I wish that was true? But it’s not, Reilly. You’ve been dangling that fucking forgiveness carrot in front of our noses for years. Solve this case and all your sins will be absolved. Fuck that! Maybe Cassandra goes to jail. What happens when five or ten years from now, another former cult member crawls out of the woodwork and starts wreaking havoc? I’m bound to my past forever. There
is
no escape.”

“You’re wrong. Cassie is it. She’s the end.”

“She won’t let us back in as easily as you think, Reilly. Cassandra trusts no one. Not even me or Night. You know that. She’ll demand a test of our loyalty.”

“She’ll ask us to train one of the women sexually as proof we’re still committed to her, that we’re not averse to joining her in her life of crime.” Night’s words came from the stairs. He glanced over and noticed his friend had helped himself to a pair of his sweatpants and a T-shirt. “If she’s starting up some sort of prostitution ring, she’ll definitely use sex as the test.”

“We don’t know for sure that anything sexual is going on in there. It could be just what the sign says—a retreat.” Even as he spoke the words, Jon knew them for the farce they were.

Night didn’t even bother to contradict him. He merely burst into laughter.

Reilly didn’t seem to share Night’s humor. “I can only begin to guess what Cassandra is doing to those women.”

Jon glanced once again at the picture of the young girl. “Reilly, I really can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

“Jon, you and Night could enter that compound tomorrow with very few questions asked. Hell, your mother would roll out the red carpet for you. We’ll never get an agent near that place in less than a year. How many women will be raped and sold or possibly murdered in that time? And what about the children?”

“I’m a teacher, Reilly. My James Bond days are over.” Carly had told him he looked like the superspy. Little did she know how close to the truth she’d really come.

“Your what?”

“Nothing. My answer is no.”

In uncharacteristic anger, Reilly grabbed his folder as he stalked to the front door. “Then God help the young girls at your school because you can be damn sure more than a few of them will suffer for your decision.”

With that parting shot, Reilly slammed the door—on Jon’s house
and
on his normal future.

Monday came too early. Jon struggled to focus on the lesson he was teaching. He and Night had spent most of the evening reminiscing about their days with the agency and catching up on the past year and a half. Both of them were careful to avoid any mention of Cassandra and her newest project. He knew Night was anxiously awaiting her call, desperate to get back onto the compound to exact his revenge once and for all.

He also suspected Reilly knew a hell of a lot more than he was sharing with them. It wouldn’t be the first time their boss had strung them along with only bits and pieces of the puzzle. And if Reilly was correct, what would Jon do if and when his mother called? The mere thought of setting foot on the mountain again made him want to throw up.

The day had been long. He was physically and mentally exhausted. The image of Trisha Jackson’s empty desk had haunted him since third period. Where was she right now? What was happening to her? Glancing at the clock for the tenth time in as many minutes, he finally threw in the towel.

“Let’s call it a day on grammar, eh?” There was an audible murmur of approval until he added, “Get out your literature books and turn to page seventy-two. Begin reading the short story. What you don’t finish is for homework, along with the questions at the end. And folks, when I say answer in complete sentences, I mean the kind with a subject and a predicate. Got it?”

Stumbling to his desk, he tried to concentrate on grading the essays before him. He hadn’t made one mark when the final bell rang.

“Bye, Mr. Walker.”

“See you tomorrow, Paula.”

He watched the petite blonde girl meet her best friend in the hallway. The two girls put their heads together and immediately started chatting and giggling. Reilly’s words from the night before drifted back to him. As painful as it was for him to admit, he knew it was only a matter of time before more young girls were dragged to Cassandra’s so-called retreat by their desperate mothers.

Glancing out the window, he noticed the storm clouds that hovered all day had gotten even darker. Rubbing his forehead, he tried to ward off the headache that had grown worse as the day progressed.

“Knock, knock.” He turned toward the voice and it felt as if the sun had finally come out.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Looks like you aren’t exaggerating. What’s wrong? Headache?” Carly asked.

“Just a little one. Shut the door and come here.” He stood up and crooked a finger at her.

Grinning, she followed his orders, practically skipping across the room to throw herself into his arms. Dipping his head, he met her lips in a pleasant kiss.

“I missed you today,” she said.

“Sorry about lunch. I worked through it.” Usually he took his sandwich and ate with her in the teacher’s lounge, but today he hadn’t been able to summon the energy to walk down the hall.

“Doesn’t look like you’ve made much progress.” She pointed to the large stack of unmarked essays on his desk.

“Can’t seem to concentrate.”

“Join the club. My head’s been in the clouds all day. Last night was hell. The bed seemed so cold and empty without your big, strong,” she paused for effect, glancing down at the front of his pants, “arms around me.”

He laughed at her sexy teasing. He’d been lonely too. Tossing and turning, he’d spent most of the night wishing he could lose himself in her sweet body again. “Keep talking like that and I’ll toss you up on that desk.”

“Promises, promises. Actually, I’m here to see if you want to come to dinner tonight.”

“As long as you’re the appetizer, main course and dessert.” He placed a hand on her back, guiding her out of the room. “Hurry. I’m starving.”

* * * * *

The second they entered her house, Jon shut the door behind them. With firm hands on her shoulders, he pushed her to her knees.

She looked up at him, surprise warring with longing in her gaze.

“Suck me,” he demanded, painfully aware of his cold, demanding tone. Taking a deep breath, he struggled to add “please” in a kinder voice.

She gave him a sweet, nervous smile and reached up to unfasten his trousers. Again he fought the demons clamoring to get out, overwhelmed by the desire to bury himself deep in her throat.

She pulled out his hard erection. He groaned when her tongue lightly swiped her lower lip as she looked at him. He ran his fingers through her wavy hair and pulled her toward him.

Just as she was about to take him inside her mouth, he tilted her head upward, forcing her to look at his face. With a questioning glance, she paused.

“I can’t…I need…” He wasn’t sure how to express what he wanted in words, but Carly seemed to understand. She leaned forward and engulfed his turgid flesh in her hot, wet mouth.

Without so much as a kiss or soft touch, he fucked her mouth. It was as if he truly believed she could suck every bit of darkness out of him. He felt her fighting against his fast pace and deep thrusts. She’d never given a blowjob like this before.

“Open your throat,” he said.