Dirty Truths (10 page)

“So, you have all night…” Eyebrow raised, he glanced to the house and then to Kristina.

The silence grew as loud as a bomb blast.

Kristina saw the possibilities in his gaze, and in the way he twirled his wedding band around his finger.

The gold ring catching the light of the moon brought her to her senses. The idea she could go through with sleeping with a married man suddenly seemed ridiculous. No matter how much Amy and Wade hated each other, the fact remained they were married. Hadn’t she vowed to herself when she’d found out about Desiree never to do the same to another woman?

Heat crept up her neck. “Well, not all night,” she stuttered. “I mean, how long does it take you to drink?” Kristina shrugged and laughed, although it sounded hollow to her ears.

Wade’s lip twitched, as though he might smile. “Depends on the drink.”

She faltered and gave a nervous laugh. “Well I’ve got cheap wine and beer.”

“I can’t say no to cheap wine. I should stay at least long enough to be sure the fucktard doesn’t come back.”

“Of course,” Kristina turned toward the house, his footsteps on the damp street behind her.

Kristina took her key out of her purse, but dropped it as she approached the door. She bent to retrieve it and almost collided with Wade’s head. Kristina jumped back.

He picked up the key and inserted it in the lock. She murmured her thanks and stepped inside.

CHAPTE
R 12

Kristina reached to switch on the kitchen light. The fluorescent glow blinded her and she paused. Wade’s body brushing against her back sent her scurrying into the kitchen. Inviting him in for a drink must rank the worst idea she’d ever had. He was far from stupid and she’d be willing to bet he read her every thought. Probably thought she was childish.

She gazed around the room at the crummy furniture. What she once considered cheerful and sunny yellow paint, seemed tacky now, and the chipped countertop not so charming. Wade lived in a fabulous house. How must this shitty little place look to him? He probably thought she was destitute.

Muddled and still reeling from the shock of the encounter on the bridge, Kristina walked across the small kitchen and opened the cupboard. She cringed at the squeaky hinge she intended to fix, even bought the grease for it, but never seemed to get around to doing. Kristina reached up to the top shelf for a bottle of wine that had sat there since her divorce. Though she bought it to celebrate her new life, so far she hadn’t felt like drinking it. Wiping the dust from its sides she set it on the counter.

“Shit, how long have you had that?” Wade chuckled, a chair scraping the linoleum as he sat down. He was actually sitting in her kitchen and it scared her to death.

She shrugged. “A couple of months, I guess. It should be okay. Don’t they charge more for the old stuff?” She twisted the top off and reached up once more to grab two glasses.

“Um, the good old stuff.”

Her hands shook. Pouring the wine, she held the bottle with both hands to keep the red liquid in the glass and not spilling all over the counter. Kristina took a deep breath before turning . She took a step toward him to hand him his glass. Her fingers refused to cooperate. Suddenly she couldn’t hold the glasses anymore. In slow motion, she followed their arc to the floor at her feet, red liquid splashing up on her pants and across the white linoleum. Tears burned her eyes and her cheeks warmed. With unsteady hands she grabbed a towel hanging over the sink and knelt to clean up the mess.

Wade jumped up from his chair to kneel in front of her. His breath warmed her face. “There’s the clumsy girl I know and love.”

Instinctively, she closed her hand, cutting her finger on a shard of glass. “Shit,” she cursed. The sight of her blood sent waves of nausea through her stomach. Her head spun, heat coursed through her body, and a lump formed in her throat. Great, she’d have an all-out panic attack right in front of him. He’d be so impressed when she started crying and vomiting all over the floor. Kristina dropped the glass pieces and slumped.

Wade reached out and took her hand. He frowned as he examined the cut on her finger.

“I’m okay,” she murmured and tried to pull her hand away.

Wade pulled back and raised her hand to his mouth.

Kristina knew what he was about to do, but could do nothing but stare, her chest aching.

He licked her hand, then her finger, and raised his gaze.

The warmth of his mouth, the way he dragged his tongue over her palm and up her fingers, sent tiny sparks of pleasure to her belly.

Kristina stopped breathing. She couldn’t even move. Wade’s gaze burned into her, so intense he might really be able to read her thoughts.

He tugged her closer and brushed his lips over hers.

How many nights had she dreamt about this moment, his attention solely on her and his hands in her hair, pulling her into him? The way he looked at her, as though he might devour her whole, sent a shudder down her spine.

“I should go,” he said against her lips.

“This is a bad idea.” She agreed.

But he didn’t go. Instead, he stood and pulled her with him and pressed his body against hers, his hands roaming over her back to grip her bottom.

Kristina’s mind screamed for him to stop and back away. But she stood immobile as Wade ran his hands over her body. His mouth felt so much different than Daniel’s, he was different. Rather than taking, his mouth gave; warmth, tenderness, and something else she didn’t stop to identify. She couldn’t recall ever needing Daniel this much. Why hadn’t she realized this before? The thought of Daniel chilled her just a little. If he knew Wade was touching her like this, or that she welcomed it, he’d kill her.

Wade changed. His mouth hardened against hers and his teeth grazed her lips roughly before he stepped away and turned to the door.

Kristina stared after him. Emptiness replaced the warmth his hands had given and it hurt.

He turned, then smiled and opened the door. “You’re not ready. I’m not about to share you. Not even with a memory.” He walked out and gently closed the door behind him.

The soft click of the lock jolted her out of her stupor. Kristina crumbled to the floor, kneeling before the broken glass and spilled wine. She broke down. Hot tears soaked her cheeks. Disgusted with her weakness and for wanting a married man, she berated herself for being so stupid. She realized how unfair she’d been to Daniel, expecting him to return a love she hadn’t given. She felt horrible; the lowest form of life. There was no excuse for what she almost allowed to happen, wanted to happen, no matter how lonely she felt.

***

Wade stood outside the door listening to Kristina’s sobs, fighting the urge to go back inside and take her in his arms again. She’d let him do whatever he wanted. He knew that, but he couldn’t. Not when she still had feelings for her fuck-up ex-husband. He would not fight an idiot like Daniel Riley for her affection.

The night had cooled considerably and rain fell in large drops, no longer a fine mist. Wade turned his face to the sky and let the cool water wash away the heat of Kristina’s body. He spun on his heel and walked down the driveway, silently cursing when his boots sloshed in the mud. Yep, the boots were ruined. He strode to the end of the street where he parked his truck and fished the keys from his pocket.

The houses lining Kristina’s street darkened long ago, with only a few porch lights lit as most of Laighton’s residents felt safe enough to sleep without the added security. As he walked up the sidewalk to the slurping sounds of his tread, rain battered the tin roofs and windows of the silent homes. He bet most of the back doors in town were unlocked. Small-town folks didn’t believe evil could touch them. Everyone knew everyone else, didn’t they?

Wade knew better. Small towns were perfect for hiding the darkest of sins. He wiped the rain from his face as he approached his truck and thought of Kristina and how trusting she was even after being married to the most sadistic fuck he’d seen in a long time. She believed herself to be perfectly safe walking alone at night because she lived in a rural area. Naïve and foolish.

Then he remembered the wallet and the debt he owed. Smiling, Wade opened the truck and climbed in. Leaning across the seat, he opened the glove compartment and reached inside. He felt around, his hand touching cool metal before sliding to his phone, taking it out and punching in a number he’d memorized.

“Better be good,” a low voice growled.

“It’s W. I want to check someone.” Wade read the name and address on the driver’s license in the wallet.

The sound of fingers moving rapidly over a keyboard traveled the line. This man had been a handy little contact to have, and when he’d come to them for help, Thomas, Wade’s boss, made sure he took advantage of it. Wade didn’t know his name, only Thomas knew that, but he knew he could hack into anyone’s personal information in seconds.

“Oh, this is a naughty boy,” the voice chuckled.

“What?”

“Fifteen years for rape and attempted murder. Early release six months ago. Didn’t report to his probation officer last week. He has a few days before they issue a bench warrant and go arrest him for breach.”

“Thanks.”

Wade closed the phone and looked again at the wallet. “Well, William Allan, you won’t have to worry about the probation officer anymore.”

He started the truck thinking about Kristina as he pulled away from the curb and headed toward Victoria Street. The longing in her gaze nearly undid his self-control, but the naked fear dominating her being made him wary. It would have been easy to take advantage of her tonight; she desperately wanted to feel safe and loved. The shudder that wracked her body and the haunted look when he pulled away, told him she couldn’t quite separate Daniel from her thoughts. Things were complicated enough without trying to get around her irrational loyalty to the idiot.

He could use her, get her out of his system and forget about her, but an affair with Kristina wouldn’t satisfy him. Wade wanted more. He wanted everything. If it weren’t for Amy he’d have pursued her openly, but he had to be careful. Amy could really screw him over if she chose to. So far she’d been subdued by the Brotherhood’s threat but Amy often went off half-cocked and a whiff of Kristina would throw her into a proper tantrum. Although she didn’t love him, Amy had always been a little jealous of Kristina, even accusing Wade years ago of having an affair with her. If Amy caught on to what was happening, she’d make them both pay. He couldn’t do that to Kristina. She’d suffered enough already.

Wade turned right, crossing the little bridge on a quiet road with only a few houses stacked side by side with little space between, each one having their very own patch of grass out back. He couldn’t imagine living this close to someone else, glad for his acres of property and his privacy.

The sign indicating Victoria Street was at the end of the road. He pressed the gas, eager to confront the piece of shit the legal system couldn’t take care of. How many rapes, assaults and crimes against women did one guy have to commit before the law tossed him away forever? Pedophiles and rapists got less time than a thief or a drug dealer. Wade didn’t understand it and he doubted he ever would. To him, it seemed they were far more interested in the minor crime of selling someone a fix—a fix they wanted and often begged for—than someone who shattered people’s lives.

Wade’s pulse quickened when he spotted the number he wanted. He continued driving until he reached the end of the dead-end street. He left the key in the ignition, the motor idling, and turned off the truck lights. Whistling softly he opened the glove compartment once more. He set the gun on the seat and reached in again for the cylinder that would silence the shot. As he prepared the weapon, Wade stared out the windshield.

The end of the street butted against the old Steel Works where it met with another dead end. Laighton Steel had been closed now for nearly fifteen years, although they used the building for something, Wade didn’t know what. Beyond the low rambling building and opposite the narrow road, was Moira Lake, its rippling waves like black silk under the light of the full moon.

He considered finishing the job there but quickly tossed the idea aside. In the small lake, William would be found too quickly and Wade didn’t want him found. Preparations finished, he opened the door and jumped down, his feet sinking
in the muddy ground. Damn rain.

Gloves. He pulled the visor down, removed them from the little band holding them in place and slipped them on. The soft leather slid over his hands, caressing his skin, a feeling he always savored.

Still whistling, he walked toward the tiny duplex near the dead end. Set back from the road and surrounded by tall maple trees—the steel works on one side, an abandoned house on the other—William lived in the perfect house to remain anonymous, undiscovered… and vulnerable. Wade walked up the broken and crumbling walkway, stepping off just before he reached the door and going around to the back of the house. The grey siding had cracked in spots, fallen off altogether in others, and black shingles lifted and curled away from the roof. Wade was willing to bet it rained inside as well as out.

The light was on in the front window. William, if he paid attention, would know someone was outside. Wade wasn’t trying to hide though, not from the likes of him.

He blended into the shadows of the backyard, his feet sinking into the deep mud. He’d have to get rid of his boots, Amy would question their state and he didn’t need to give her more ammunition. Wade stepped up to a screen door hanging precariously by two rusted hinges. One good tug would pull it off. He rapped on its cracked glass and waited. A shadow scuttled past the door, then nothing.

He knocked once more, and the shadow grew, moving closer. “Who is it?”

“Pizza. Get the fuck out here and get it.”

William pushed the door open.

Wade backed away.

He scratched his head and Wade imagined lice fleeing from the greasy brown mop. “You’re joking, right? You think you’re going to come here to my house and try to scare me?”

“I’m not trying to scare you.”

“What then? You going to warn me to stay away from the slut? Fuck off. You made your point.”

William turned sideways and reached for the door.

Wade raised the gun and released the safety, the metallic click echoing in the silence of the night. Raindrops ran over his face and down his shirt, which had soaked through long ago.

William stopped and turned slowly, his arms rising above his head. “You don’t want to do this. Fuck, I didn’t do anything to her. And if you shoot me, you’ll get life, no matter what I did. They’ll know and they’ll find you.”