Club Prive: Sweet Escape (Kindle Worlds Novella) (11 page)

She points over to the antique hutch and I notice a beautifully crafted lamp and an assortment of bowls.

“I made those from the gourds I dried each year. I’d sell them along with the pumpkins, then stash the money away into my bank account. Paisley would help me and get a cut of the profits.”

She smiles up at me, but it isn’t a happy smile. She looks like she’ll fall apart at any second. I raise the mug to her lips again and she drinks deeply.

“My first ten or so years were so wonderful. My parents were those lovey dovey parents who never fought and were always kissing and holding hands. I’d pretend to be embarrassed by it, but I secretly loved it.”

Just like my parents.

Her eyes widen and she turns her attention back to her phone. “Yes.” Her body relaxes. “You’re certain? Did you physically lay eyes on her?” She relaxes further, leaning closer into my side. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

She lays the phone next to her and presses the heels of her hands into her eyes.

“As Paisley got older, she turned into this brat. Always tattling on me or blaming me for something I didn’t do. You know, typical sibling stuff, right? My parents had another baby, a little brother this time and I was so excited. When he died, SIDS they called it, we were all devastated. Except for Paisley. She cried at his funeral, but it was these big, over exaggerated tantrum kinds of cries. When we got home, she started packing up his stuff. My mom stopped her and Paisley just looked at me. She was only four or five, but she said, ‘Avery told me to get rid of his things.’ Of course I denied it, but Mom looked at me so funny for a minute.”

She shivers, and I lift the mug to her lips again.

“That look became more frequent as the years passed. Something would happen and Paisley would point a finger at me. My parents wouldn’t know who to believe so, as the eldest, I’d usually get the blame.” She shook her head. “I can’t even blame my parents for not believing me. Paisley was this angelic looking girl, and she was so sweet and helpful to them. I, on the other hand, had become sullen and angry, which got worse as I grew into a teenager.”

I think about my own siblings. The way we’d sometimes torment each other as kids. Mom and Dad would throw up their hands while we screamed at each other, then send all of us to our rooms. I remember how unfair it felt. Well, during the times I was actually innocent.

“We had lots of animals on the farm. Not just the cows and horses, but goats and dogs, cats and hamsters. A huge fish tank. Animals everywhere. Paisley had a dog that absolutely loved her. That thing would follow her around everywhere. Slept with her. Everything.”

She begins to cry. Not a sobbing kind of cry, just huge round tears that spill silently down her cheeks.

“I was sixteen when I woke up to Paisley’s screams. I could hear Mom and Dad run to her room, then my mom was screaming and my dad was yelling. I remember sitting up on my bed, then looking down. There was blood there. On the sheets and my gown. On my hands.” She looks down at her hands, as if she can still see the blood there. “Dad bursts into my room and sees me sitting there, just frozen.”

“He runs to me and grabs me by the shoulders. He shakes me and yells, ‘What did you do?’ Then he finds it. There’s a knife under my pillow. Bloody. I don’t know how it got there.”

She coughs into her hand and looks at Brooke, then up at me.

“I swear. I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill her dog. I’d never…”

The sobbing begins in earnest. I hold her and glance over at Brooke, who is crying too.

“My parents sent me to a psychologist. It got to where I couldn’t sleep at night. I was terrified because I knew Paisley had done it, had set me up. After everything had calmed down that morning and the dog had been buried and everything cleaned up, Paisley came to my room. She was smiling at me. This dead smile. Dead eyes. She said, ‘You’ve been a bad girl.’ Then she turned and left. I ran and told Mom and Dad, but they didn’t believe me. I-I…”

She lifts a shoulder.

“I didn’t know what to do. I ran away, but got hauled back by the police, which got me officially labeled as a troubled teen. Paisley was grinning when I was brought home. ‘You’ve been a bad girl.’ It’s what she said every time I got into trouble. Just like this…”

Avery sings the words in a little girl voice, and ice crawls down my spine.

“One night, about six weeks later, I’m lying in my bed and hear my bedroom door creak open and see the light from the hallway come into the room. I pretend to be asleep, but keep my eyes open just enough to see who it is. It’s Paisley. She walks over to my bed and stands there for a really long time. I keep praying for her to go away. She doesn’t. Instead, she says, ‘You’ve been a bad girl,’ then presses the tip of a knife to my throat.”

Brooke gasps and Avery looks up at her.

“I punched out at Paisley and she fell backwards, but before I could get up, she was back and slamming the knife into my stomach. The pain was incredible and she sawed at the knife, making the damage worse. She was younger, but she’d inherited Dad’s height and was only a couple inches shorter than me. When she finally pulled the knife out, she took a phone out of her pajama pocket. I asked her why she was doing this. Do you know what she said?”

I do know, because I’d read the court transcripts, but I say nothing, just kiss her forehead.

“She said she needed to do it before she turned thirteen so that, in case she was caught, she couldn’t be tried as an adult. Twelve years old. I later learned that psychopaths are very smart.”

Yes, they are. And manipulative, twisting people around their little finger. But I still say nothing, letting her continue her story at her pace.

“She dials 911 and begins screaming into the phone that she’s Paisley Carlson and that her big sister killed her parents and tried to kill her. I hadn’t known she’d killed them until I heard her say that. Then she stabs herself. Right there in front of me, she stabs herself. Screaming and screaming.”

Avery covers her ears as if she can still hear the sound.

“I finally was able to get down to my floor and try to crawl over to her, to make her stop, but I’d lost a lot of blood. That’s how the police found us. Both on the floor, but the knife was in
my
hand. We were both taken to the hospital and I had emergency surgery. When I woke up, there was a police officer guarding my hospital room. They believed her. They thought I did it.”

Her face shifts from sad to angry.

“But I’d been planning for something to happen. With the money I’d saved, I secretly bought a video recorder. I tore apart one of my stuffed animals and hid it inside. Every night, I’d turn it on. That night was no exception. I told the police and they found it, saw everything that had happened in my room. They also discovered that Paisley had stolen horse tranquilizers from my grandpa’s veterinary clinic. That’s how she was able to overpower my parents. She drugged them first, then stabbed them when they were asleep.”

I speak for the first time. “The ten-year anniversary of their death is soon.”

She nods. “Day after tomorrow. Paisley was tried as an adult because of what she said on camera about timing the murder. Her attorneys didn’t even attempt an insanity plea because it was clearly premeditated and she clearly knew what she was doing. She was sentenced to life in prison and was in a juvenile institution until she was eighteen. She was moved to an adult prison and has been back and forth between it and a hospital.” She nods at the phone number for the institution. “She’s there now. They say she convinced her cellmate to commit suicide a few weeks ago.”

She swallows and looks up at me.

“What, baby?”

Her lower lip trembles and she pulls it between her lips to make it stop.

“The flowers. The note.”

“What about them?”

“Paisley isn’t supposed to know my new name or address.”

Chapter Fourteen – Avery

I wake the next morning to sun streaming in from the wrong side of the room. I sit up, confused and disoriented, my heart thumping in my chest.

“Ssshhh, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Immediately soothed, I turn into Gray’s arms before jolting back up. “What time is it?”

He reaches for his phone, peering sleepily at it. “Six twenty-four.”

“Crap!” I try to scramble from the huge bed and end up slapping at Gray’s arms when he won’t let me go. “I have to be at the hospital in half an hour.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

He pulls me closer and the heat of his erection presses into my thigh. “I used your phone to text Tabitha and let her know you were coming in at nine. You needed a couple hours sleep. McGill can do his fucking job and make morning rounds.”

I stare at him. “You used
my
phone?”

He tickles my face with his beard. “You really need to be more original with your password.”

Worry worms itself into my brain. “You
broke
into my phone?”

He laughs. “No, I wouldn’t do that. Brooke accessed it for me and sent the text. You needed to sleep.”

I can’t decide if I’m angry or simply bemused. “So you woke her up to break into my phone and send an unapproved text?”

“No,” he says slowly, making the word at least five seconds long. “I got up early and she was already awake. She agreed that you needed to sleep. I was going to call the hospital to let them know you’d be late, but knew that would raise even more eyebrows. So she sent the text and then started to get ready for work. She has to meet with some judge before some court thing.”

I relax into his arms. “Thank you for letting us both stay with you last night.”

He kisses my forehead and begins to nudge my panties down my hips. “You’re very welcome. We were all too beat to clean up that glass last night. I’ll call a service and have them do it today.”

I’m smiling as he rolls onto his back and reaches for a condom. “You’re really bossy, do you know that?”

“Am I? Really? I’ve never heard that before.”

I slap him on his stomach. “You don’t need to hire anyone. I can clean it up later tonight, or maybe hire Tyler to do it. I do make a good salary, you know.”

He rips the foil, but is frowning at me. “Who’s Tyler?”

“The custodian from the hospital. He was asking if anyone needed personal cleaning. I think he needs the extra money. Lots of the custodians work outside of their shifts.”

“Hiring a bonded service is smarter,” he says, rolling the condom down his length. “You don’t want just anyone to have access to your home.”

I roll my eyes at him even as I’m salivating at what he’s doing; his long fingers holding his shaft is surprisingly sexy. “Is talking about cleaning floors your idea of foreplay?”

In response, he pulls me on top of him until I’m straddling his waist. I prepare to sink down on him, but yelp in surprise when he grabs me behind the knees, yanking me farther up his chest.

“What are you … oh …” Then I’m moaning as his mouth finds me, his tongue sliding deep inside. His hands are on my ass, kneading the flesh there, pulling me harder onto his face while I hold on to the headboard of his bed and try not to wail.

When I come, I no longer care about the sounds I’m making. I only care about his tongue and his lips, and the crazy things they make me feel. I’m still shuddering when he says, “Ride me, baby.”

I look down at him and pant, “I thought that’s what I was doing.”

He grins and grabs my breasts as I move down his body, my hands on his muscular chest for balance. He squeezes his eyes shut when I grasp his cock, bringing it into position so I can slide down, gasping as my body struggles to accept him.

“Your ex must have a pencil dick because, I swear, I’ve never been with anyone so tight.”

“Well, Dr. Bigwood, not every man can be so blessed.”

He laughs and thrusts his hips up, causing my teeth to chatter together and a long moan to escape from between them. He does it again, this time with his hands on my shoulders, pushing me down while he spears into me.

“Open your eyes,” he says as he sets our rhythm, his hands moving down to my hips and ass, grabbing at me as if he’s afraid to let go. I feel marked by him, every part of me. Bruised, used, and I love it.

I do as he says, watching the exertion play out on his face, the passion in his eyes. He sits up and his arms are around me and he’s kissing me, slamming me down on him over and over.

“You feel so good,” he says against my lips, growling like the beast he is. His breath warms the space between us, the lust in his eyes blazing into me full force. Our joining is barbaric, almost animalistic as we pound our bodies together, and when I come, the earth doesn’t just stop its rotation, it shatters, exploding into uncountable pieces.

I can only hang on to him as he finds his release, my face pressed into his neck. Beneath my lips, his pulse races, confirming that his blood is rushing as quickly as mine.

Heaving for breath, he rolls us until I’m under him, and he’s kissing me with a wild hunger that brands me as his. I kiss him back, biting at his lips, his tongue, needing more connection, more closeness, even though he’s still inside me, swelling again.

When he begins to move, it’s slow and luscious this time, a quiet rocking of our bodies. Gliding lips, sweeping tongues. “I’ve never wanted anyone so badly,” he says before he crashes into another orgasm, taking me with him.

I don’t have the breath to tell him I’ll be his forever if he wants. Or maybe I simply don’t have the courage. The hottest fires burn out quickly, I know that to be true. But maybe, just maybe, if I believe hard enough, we can keep this one going.

I close my eyes and hold on as tight as I can.

***

“You aren’t just a doctor, are you?”

Gray comes up behind me as I stare out of his floor to ceiling window at the most beautiful view I’ve ever experienced of New York. I know we’re on the sixty-fourth floor of the Gehry building, but last night, I’d been too wiped to even look around.

I’m looking around now.

Gray’s penthouse makes mine and Brooke’s apartment look like a closet, but it’s the panoramic vista that takes my breath. I grew up with the Adirondacks as my background and I adore the mountains and the tranquility of sitting beside a stream. Here, the Hudson and East rivers compete with the iconic New York skyline and the Brooklyn Bridge. The Statue of Liberty stands proudly in the distance.