Fire & Desire (Hero Series) (16 page)

He took a steadying breath and focused on the far wall over
Tiffany’s shoulder. He had to look anywhere but at her. Or he would lose it.

“As they say in the movies, ‘It was the big game.’ My coach
informed me at practice the night before that a minimum of four NFL scouts would
be in the stands to watch me play. There was a rumor that at least two of them
would most likely have the general manager on the line ready to set up a
meeting to negotiate contracts. There were teams that wanted me bad. That was the
main reason I had chosen Drakner; I wanted to stand out. I was considering
whether to forgo entering the draft. I was well on my way.”

He felt the squeeze of Tiffany’s hand on his forearm. He looked
down and watched her thumb stroke his arm before it dropped back down to her
side.

“That night, Rebecca and I had gone to dinner at one of the
restaurants off campus frequented by students. Everything was going great;
during our dinner the atmosphere was charged. People stopped by the table
dressed in assorted costumes of green and white to offer the team and me their
support. Shortly before we left, Christopher and his chums came in.” Trevor felt
the burn in his shoulders as the tension in his muscles consumed him. “I
remember feeling fortunate they didn’t say anything to us. Just stared but left
us alone.”

Trevor leaned a shoulder into the stone of the mantel and closed
his eyes. “It was a nice night, and we had decided to walk so I could burn off
some of the excited energy coursing through my veins and focus on the game
ahead.” Trevor opened his eyes and looked at Tiffany.

Seeing the arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, caramel kissed skin,
full lips and the softness of her face. “I will never forget the sound of
screeching tires. It’s the sound of death on wheels.”

Trevor shut his eyes again. “We saw the headlights. I immediately
knew who it was by the antique shape of them. There were more lights behind him
from his friends’ cars. I could still hear his laughter as he barreled toward
us at high speed.” Trevor opened his eyes. Pain filled him as he looked off in
the distance, still trapped in the memory. He relived the cool breeze of the night
kissing his skin, and his hands started to shake.

“By his speed, I knew he would never be able to stop in time. I
grabbed Rebecca and attempted to get us out of the way. However, at the same
time, Christopher slammed on his brakes and the car fishtailed. I was
sideswiped. The doctors told me my body automatically braced for impact because
of years of football training. Rebecca wasn’t so lucky.”

Trevor pushed away from the mantle and began to pace between the
furniture, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. “She was caught by
the tail-end of the car. The force of it propelled her body ten feet and head
first onto the edge of the curve. She died instantly.” He stopped and turned to
Tiffany, finally seeing through the fog in his mind.

Tiffany stood frozen by the mantle. “Trevor, I’m sorry.”

“I’m glad to know that you are because Manning never said or
showed it.”

“What? Didn’t he have to make restitution? Wasn’t there a trial?”
The indignation of injustice colored Tiffany’s speech.

The bark of Trevor’s abrupt laughter echoed through the room and
ended in the same manner.

“If I learned anything while lying in that damn hospital bed and
undergoing months of rehabilitation, it was that the Mannings of the world can
get away with anything. Even murder.”

He sat down on the couch, his body weak with emotions. “All of my
medical bills were paid for by Senator Manning. Rebecca’s death was ruled an accident.
There was never an apology. Public or otherwise.”

Tiffany walked toward him. “Did Christopher ever visit you while
you were in the hospital?”

A sardonic smile graced Trevor’s face. “Oh, I was honored with the
presence of both him and his father. Two days after I came out of knee repair
surgery.” He reached down and rubbed the reconstructed knee. “At least they put
it back together. The Mannings stopped by. It was a short meeting to inform me
the entire situation was an
unfortunate accident
. A misunderstanding between
Christopher and me. They had witnesses to testify Christopher didn’t see us
walking in the middle of the parking lot until it was too late. He attempted to
swerve away from us both, but nevertheless it happened.” Trevor’s hands were
vigorous as they rubbed over his face and baldhead. “After they left, I made a
vow to Rebecca that one day I would get revenge.”

~ML~

Tiffany plopped down onto the cushion of her vacated chair.
“That’s where I come in.”

Confirmation. It was worse than she’d expected. “Nothing in Las
Vegas happened between us by chance, did it?” She looked across the room at
Trevor. She saw the pain and anger of the past still resident in his eyes.

“No.”

One word and she had her answer. She felt sick to her stomach as
she thought about how she had fallen hard for Trevor over the last few months.
How she had given herself to him unrestrained. “How did you convince your aunt
to allow you to pose as one of her dancers?”

“I was actually doing her a favor. Believe it or not, in the beginning
I never planned for you to be my way of getting to Manning. I used to dance for
Leslie every summer. That’s how I paid for part of my school tuition. Dancing
allowed me to save a decent nest egg, allowing me to start my business. Even
though I stopped dancing for her after college, she would occasionally call me
if she was in a jam. I owed it to her. Leslie has always been there for me. I
recently told her my company was up for a major contract, and I couldn’t dance
for her any longer.”

“Daddy’s old business.” Tiffany’s voice was vacant. “Why did you
do the Vegas party?”

Tiffany needed answers; every revelation tore another piece of her
heart.

“Because it was on the other side of the country.” His gaze
pierced her. “It was you. The woman Manning was expected to marry one day.”

A large part of her wanted to cover her ears and avoid hearing the
truth. The other part of her had to know. She would need the truth to go on
without him. Her eyes burned, the urge to cry was heavy upon her. Instead, she
focused on squeezing her fist tight, burying her nails into her palm.

“People shouldn’t believe everything the news tells them.” Her
voice sounded hollow to her own ears. Tiffany glared at Trevor. “So before you
left Virginia you had already conceived the plan to marry me.” Her laugh was
just as empty. “That’s why you wouldn’t give me a quiet divorce.” Tiffany
nodded her head, finally understanding as she looked anywhere but at him.

“No. I didn’t plan to marry you…”

Trevor’s deep voice drew her eyes to him.

“My plan was to get you naked, spread your legs wide and feast on
your sweet sex until you became hoarse with ecstasy…” He leaned forward over
his knees. “Then bury myself so deep inside you I could feel your heart beat.”

Tiffany squeezed her thighs tight, feeling her womanhood begin to
swell and pulse at his words. Her hands started to tremble, and a bead of sweat
trickled between her breasts. Her body betrayed her, even though she knew he
had plotted to have sex with her out of revenge. “The kitchen,” was all she
could say.

Trevor continued. “I was going to use you the way Manning had used
Rebecca and tossed her aside. I was going to one up him by sleeping with his
future wife and letting him know it.”

“So I was going to become your victim? Your revenge? All because
Manning slept with Rebecca and was responsible for her death? Well, you got
just what you wanted and then some…but the joke’s on you.” Angry and
frustrated, Tiffany stood up, then sat down again, then rose again and walked
over to the window, snatched the curtain open and stared out into the night.
She was confused and hurt, and tears began to run out of her eyes unchecked.
Tiffany’s throat tightened and her voice wavered. “I’m sorry she died. I’m
sorry Christopher is a royal jackass. I’m sorry you lost your love. I’m sorry.
I’m sorry. I’m
sorrrry
,” Tiffany said weakly as her legs gave out. She’d
wanted to hear it all and was miserable now that she had.

Instead of feeling the impact of the floor, Tiffany found herself
cradled in Trevor’s arms.

He sat on the carpet embracing and rocking her. She didn’t want
comfort. She didn’t want to fall prey to his hold. Succumb to his touch.
Tiffany began slamming her fists into Trevor’s chest and shoulders, not caring
where her blows landed. She just wanted to hurt him. To make him experience the
pain she felt, in any way.

“Tiffany, honey.” Trevor grabbed her violating fists and held them
tight. “Listen to me.”

She jerked and attempted to snatch her hands from his grasp. “No,”
she growled, as she propelled her body away from him. “I’ve listened long
enough.”

Tiffany stood, with violence in her eyes, attempting to pierce
Trevor to his very soul.

“I’m tired, Trevor.” She used the back of a hand to swipe the
remainder of the tears from her eyes.
No more tears. No more crying. No more
being stepped on by men.

Trevor rose slowly from the floor. “Tiffany, I know—”

“You know
nothing
.” Tiffany spoke through gritted teeth.
“Damn it, I’m tired of all the well meaning men in my life. Treating me like I
can’t think for my damn self. Trying to control my life to suit
their
purpose.”
Tiffany’s hands flailed around her body. “My dad. Christopher.

Now you.”

“Baby—”

Tiffany threw up her hands in his face to ward off anything Trevor
wanted to say. “Don’t you dare, baby, sweetie, sugar-pie or honey me,” Tiffany
barked out, as she backed away from him. The urge to strangle him or pick up a
chair and bash him across the skull was too overpowering to resist.

“I love you. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“No.” Tiffany continued to back away from him. “Not right now. The
only thing I want from you now is for you to get out.” She wanted to run, to
escape the horrid nightmare that had somehow trapped her inside.

Trevor stalked after her.

“Don’t.” She held her hand firm and steady as she put her palm up
to stop his progress.

“We need to talk,” he pleaded.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “No,
we
don’t.
I
don’t
want to talk to you right now.

I
don’t want to see your face.
I
don’t want to stand in the
same room with you, let alone breathe the same air.”

Trevor didn’t move or speak. He just looked at her with his toffee
colored brown eyes.

Those eyes that even now jeopardized her anger, but she wasn’t
going to allow it. Tiffany used everything within her to shield herself and
harden her heart. “Get out. Get out. Get out,” Tiffany snapped. She charged
toward him and slammed into his impermeable body.
He was like a wall, not
to be budged.

Initially, he did nothing to stop her tirade. Then he grabbed her
shoulders in a firm hold and looked at her, his face full of regret.

Tiffany’s voice was rough. It crackled from overuse. “You made me
believe you were different. Someone who was supposed to care about my
happiness. About me.” Twisting away from him, she pointed toward the door. “Get
the hell out of my damn house, Trevor,” she said, each word filled with hurt,
pain, anger and disappointment.

He closed his eyes and hung his head for a moment. She saw his
chest expand as he took a deep breath. Then with one last glance at her, he
turned and walked out of the front door. Out of her house. Out of her life.

Tiffany wanted, needed to scream. But like she had told Trevor,
she was tired and emotionally drained. She walked over to the door and double
bolted it. Without stopping to turn off the lights, she walked up the stairs
toward the darkness and her bed. Like Scarlet O’Hara, she would think about it
all tomorrow.

Sixteen

Trevor closed the door behind himself and stood there. His
breathing became laborious, and his chest tightened to the point of pain, as if
a heart attack was pending. “I should be so lucky.” Trevor closed his eyes for
a moment.
Anything would be better than life without Tiffany.

He’d believed if he were able to sit and talk to her, he would be
able to make her understand. But he had been wrong. Everything within him
wanted to turn around, open the door and hold her until she forgave him. But he
knew it was too late. It was over. “You’ve really messed things up, ole boy.”

He did the inevitable and stepped away from the door.

Click, snap!

Trevor stopped. The sound of the dead bolt locking into place let
him know loud and clear that any further discussion with Tiffany that night was
out of the question. She’d barred him from her life. Trevor sent up a prayer
that it wasn’t a permanent position for him.

As if carrying twenty linebackers on his shoulders, he continued
his progression to his car. Guilt. It was a terrible thing to experience. Even
worse, to know your trial was just for the moral crime committed.

He got in his car, sat behind the wheel and stared at the house.
Lifeless. He couldn’t bring himself to start the engine. He knew if he drove
away this might mark the last time he would be welcomed back.

Everything in him confirmed the truth; he’d lost Tiffany. Too many
lies. Too many secrets. Trailed by a confession that came too late. Shaking
himself out of his stupor, he made a decision about what he had to do. Make
things right.

With a parting look at the house and toward Tiffany’s darkened
bedroom, he knew she was lying in there hurting. He started his car. With a
heavy heart of despair, he drove away.

There would be no secret entry for him tonight.

~ML~

“I need to speak with the governor,” Trevor said to the butler at
the Governor’s Mansion.

“Do you know what time it is, sir?” The older, silver-haired,
white gentleman’s pasty peach skin flushed red with shock.

Trevor looked down at his watch. “Twelve thirty-one and eleven,
twelve, thirteen seconds.”

Trevor didn’t know if being a smart aleck would help him gain
access to the house, but at this point, there wasn’t much more he could lose.
He looked past the older man’s shoulder and saw the plain clothed guard in
black jeans and a button down shirt standing at the base of the steps with a
gun ready and available on his hip.

“Your name, sir?”

“Trevor Wayne.”

“One moment please, sir,” the butler said, then closed the door
firmly in his face.

The door was thick and soundless. Trevor could only guess what was
happening on the other side.

He was amazed how calm and relaxed he felt even though his relationship
and possibly his company would be ruined by the time the sun rose. After ten
minutes of staring at the door, Trevor sat on the first step and looked out
toward the street. His car was parked out front. A state trooper had already
driven by twice. He was sure his license had been run, and if the governor didn’t
grant him entrance, he would likely be arrested for trespassing and his car
towed.

“Mr. Wayne.”

Trevor turned around at the sound of his name. Instead of the
butler whom he expected, it was Wallace, Governor Selina’s right hand man.
Trevor stood and stepped up, bringing himself on a direct eye level with the
formidable man.

Wallace had to be at least six-two, with shoulders that spanned
six hands across. He was supposed to be the governor’s aid, but he could easily
pass for his personal bodyguard, or an undercover hit man. Trevor just hoped
that, when everything came out, he wouldn’t fall on Wallace’s bad side.

“The governor will see you. He is in his office.” The intense
mountain stepped aside and allowed Trevor to enter. “I’ll show you the way.”

Trevor didn’t comment, but he nodded and followed the other man
through the house.

“This better be important, Wayne.” The gravely tone of the
governor’s words signaled Trevor to his location in the room.

The governor wasn’t behind his desk where Trevor expected him, but
instead was seated in one of two wingback chairs positioned in front of the
fireplace. The embers crackled in the hearth as the governor sat dressed in a
thick burgundy robe, which covered his striped pajamas.

His legs were crossed at the knee, and black house shoes graced
his feet.

Trevor heard the sharp sound of the door closing behind him,
sealing his fate. “It is, sir. Otherwise, I would’ve chosen a more appropriate
time.”

“Humph.” Douglas Selina looked at him; one eyebrow held a slight
arch, and his lips rolled inward as concern etched his features. “Have a seat,
Trevor. I prefer not to have a crook in my neck tomorrow as well as being
exhausted.”

Taking the empty chair, Trevor rested his body on the comfortable
cushions with a heavy sigh
.
He took a moment and focused on his own fingers, bridged across
his abdomen.
This is it
.

“It must be heavy. You look like you’re holding the weight of the
world, or expecting your hands to walk away.”

Trevor looked up and met his father-in-law’s gaze. “I’ve been
seeing your daughter behind your back.”

Selina’s eyebrows lifted high on his forehead, and his eyes filled
with question. “Are you here to ask for her hand?” he asked sarcastically.

“No. It’s a little late for that,” Trevor admitted.

He caught the subtle flinch of the governor’s shoulder.

“Is she pregnant?” asked the governor, like the calm before a
deadly storm.

Trevor’s body tensed up on full alert. He was no fool. The
governor might appear to be taking the information in stride, but he was Mr. Selina
first, with a daughter named Tiffany.

Any given moment the governor could decide to pounce, pummeling
him with his fist. And Trevor wouldn’t fight back, not Tiffany’s father.

“No. We were married months ago.”

“What!” Selina roared, his raised foot hitting the floor. He
looked ready to vault from his chair.

“Sir, you may want to hear the rest before Wallace comes tearing
in here to throw me out.” Trevor braced himself. “Or worse,” he mumbled the
last part under his breath.

Selina leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. “I’m
listening. You had better make it quick, Wayne. While you’re talking, make sure
you give me a good reason why I shouldn’t risk jail by wrapping my hands around
your throat and choking the hell out of you,”

Selina growled.

Suddenly, Trevor knew what it would be like for a zebra trapped in
the sight of a hungry lion. He imagined the zebra would feel the cool chill of
its last breath as it slid into its nostrils, moments before the lion pounced.

Trevor looked Selina straight in his eyes. “I love her.”

That admittance seemed to calm the beast—slightly.

Selina leaned back in the chair and angled his head from one side
to the other, as if attempting to crack it or release pent up tension.

“Tell me, Wayne. What do you know about love?”

Trevor looked at this man, his father in-law. “I can do better
than that. I can tell you everything.”

Selina held up a single finger. “Before you start, answer this.
Did you submit your company’s package, before or after you contacted my
daughter?”

“Before.”

“You won the contract.” Tiffany’s father eyed him for a moment.
“Was Tiffany your backup plan?”

“No. I never intended to use my connections with her.”

Trevor didn’t know whether he convinced the older man or not. He
took the nod Selina gave him as a sign for him to begin his explanation. Trevor
took a deep breath and watched as Selina’s face appeared set in stone, carved
out with ire. Selina’s eyebrows pinched in a frown as Trevor dissipated the
pure image of Christopher Manning for the second time that night.

Selina released a heavy sigh. He rubbed his hands across his face
and hair, brisk and hard. Dissatisfaction resounded in the room around the
older man. “I’d heard some things about him, but nothing could ever be
corroborated. Besides, Christopher has made it no secret that he wants to marry
my daughter.” Selina rose and walked over to the side bar.

He opened up a canister, began to dump several heaping spoonfuls
of coffee in the filtered top and pushed the coffee makers ON button. He opened
the bottom cabinet, leaned over and took out two mugs.

The machine began to hum. Rich and robust, the scent of fresh
brewed coffee permeated the air within minutes.

Trevor leaned forward, placed his forearms on his knees and
glanced across the carpeted floor at Tiffany’s father.

“Is that what you want, for her to marry Manning?” Cautious,
Trevor watched as if the tip of a blade hovered mere inches away from his
heart, awaiting Selina’s response in order to plunge forward.

“No. However, I still have a decision to make.” His features were
composed, revealing nothing.

“On what?” Trevor tried to stay calm, cool and collected,
emulating the other man. But it was no use. What this man thought of him was
important. Very important.

Selina didn’t mince words. “The outcome of this.”

Trevor nodded his understanding.

The coffee stopped percolating. Selina poured two cups and
returned to the seating area and handed Trevor a cup.

Trevor grabbed the hot mug in his hand. He sipped, and instantly
his mouth rejected it.

Hot, metallic and thick, like brewed dirt. He held it in his
mouth, glanced around the room, with a thought of ridding himself of it by
spitting it across the room.

“Bad isn’t it?” Selina took mini sips of the coffee, accompanied
by quakes of distaste shaking his whole body.

Before Trevor could think of a response, Selina continued, “My
housekeeper usually makes it at about five forty-five. So when I start my day
at six thirty it is all ready for me.”

“Maybe if we added some cream and sugar to it.”
Salvage the
coffee,
Trevor thought, as he attempted to rise.

“Sit. Apparently nobody gets what he or she wants, at…” Selina
glanced at his watch, “one thirty in the morning. Drink up. Now, tell me about
your involvement with my daughter.”

It all became apparent to Trevor that he had awakened the dragon,
and now he would suffer.

Once again, Trevor sipped the dark brew and forced it down his
throat. “I was out for revenge. I knew Christopher had plans of marrying
Tiffany.”

“Everyone knew this.”

“But I plotted.”

He watched as Selina sat in the chair, mug balanced on his crossed
knee with one hand.

The slight tug at the corners of Selina’s eyes the only reaction
evident.

“And waited. The perfect opportunity fell into my lap when my aunt
needed a dancer for a bachelorette party out of town. For extra money, I used
to take jobs, dancing, while I was in college.”

“Tiffany went to Las Vegas two weeks before her friend Diane’s
wedding.”

“Yup, and I was the main attraction.” Trevor planned to be open
and honest, but he chose his words carefully, refusing to be disrespectful.
“I’m embarrassed and won’t go into details about what my plans were—”

“I’m a man, Trevor. I know what actions would hit a man straight
in his…pride.” A slight smile pulled at the corners of Selina’s mouth.

Trevor hoped his finding humor in his plan of action was a good
sign.

“Well, I couldn’t go through with it.” Unconsciously, Trevor took
a gulp of the liquid and instantly regretted it. He swallowed, frowned.

Selina emitted a sound resembling a laugh, but Trevor wasn’t sure
because the governor continued to sit stoic.

“The next time I saw Tiffany, I was drowning my sorrows. I’d drunk
a little more than I should have and came up with the clichéd idea of getting
married in Vegas.” He drew his hand over his face. “Honestly, if you would have
asked me then why I married her, I would have said it was for revenge, but from
the first moment I saw her…I can’t explain it. I honestly love your daughter.
Who knows, maybe I was starting to fall even then.”

“Why did my daughter agree?”

“She was drunk.”

“Hmm, amazing. Drunk or not, I always believed my daughter held a
strong mind and a will of her own.”

Trevor didn’t know how to take the comment, so he remained silent.

“Is it binding?”

“The marriage has been consummated. Willingly and soberly.” Trevor
cleared up any doubts Tiffany’s father may have had about him taking Tiffany
while she was drunk.

“Glad to hear it. So what now? What do you want from me?”

The pressure in his neck and shoulders began to ease. “Nothing. I
just wanted you to hear the truth from me. I couldn’t call myself a man unless
I explained things to you face to face.”