It's A Shame (26 page)

He lifted his hips and aligned himself over me.

I moaned out loud, calling out his name as he plunged inside me, pounding me unrelentingly. His hardness filled the void I felt moments ago, as he pushed further into me, driving deeper and deeper. He moved his hips slowly at first. He grabbed my hands from his neck and gently pulled them over my head, and held them there, imprisoning me. He balanced himself on his other arm and began to increase the tempo of his movements. He rocked back and forth, quicker and quicker, unrelentingly.

I
came so fast my head was spinning. Tingling warmth spread from my core throughout my body. I lifted my ass up and down, meeting him thrust for thrust until I couldn’t stand it any more and screamed out some unrecognizable nonsense.

The sensation
that washed over me, combined with my raw emotions, propelled my orgasm to a new high. I wanted it. I needed it. I needed him. I was frenzied, screaming out with each orgasm.

He
lowered his face to mine, his mouth an inch above my own. I could feel the heat from his breath. I looked into his eyes and saw the lucidity in those perfect green orbs. Sweat from his head fell onto me in droplets, our bodies coated in a fine mist.

“Grace…” he
called my name huskily. “Baby…I love you. Ahhh…Fuck!”

Wi
th that his mouth claimed mine, and I tasted his blood as I bit down on his bottom lip. Then without warning, my body shook with another earth shattering climax. He sucked on my tongue, my lips, my chin, dragging his teeth along my jaw, all the while his eyes never left mine.

“I
love watching you come.”

I
was panting. My lungs desperately seeking air.

He ran his tongue along my chin, across my cheek. His eyes never
strayed away from mine, not even once. I could feel the earth move beneath me as my limbs went numb.

Cole’s mouth twisted as he thrust into me then stilled. I felt
his cock throbbing as he pulsed inside me. His eyes bore into mine, and I came with him. He released my hands. My arms depleted of strength, lay above my head and I sunk into the mattress as he lowered his weight on to me burying his face in my neck.

Chapter
25

When I woke the next day,
I could hear Cole talking on the phone. I got up and quickly threw on shorts and a tee shirt. I pulled the tie from my hair and shook it out. It was still wet from the shower we took last night and was beginning to curl. Looking at my reflection in the mirror I laughed at how ridiculous I looked. I grabbed a dry tie from the top of my dresser and pulled it back up into a bun on the top of my head, as I padded out to the kitchen.

Dean stood at the end of the breakfast bar raising a cup of coffee to his mouth. I turned my head
and spotted Michelle sitting on the stool in front of Cole.

“What’s up?” I asked
. I wasn’t happy that Dean was the first face I laid eyes on, and I made that clear with a twist of my mouth.

Michelle and Cole
both turned their heads to look at me.

“Gloomy faces…” I looked directly at Michelle. She
averted her eyes.

“What’s up
?” A little too much attitude, but I didn’t care. I was done being tossed like a cork on a wave. So it came out more like a command this time.

“Have a seat Grace, I’ll get you a coffee.” Michelle jumped off
the stool, fixed me a cup and handed me the mug. I took the proffered stool in front of Cole as Michelle walked around to stand next to Dean.

“Is someone going to answer me or what?”

“We picked up the doorman, Pat Ricchiardo,” Dean announced.

“Good…you got him. Did he fold yet?”
I was feeling my oats. “I mean, he’s the guy, right? He’s the one that murdered Lauren Buckley.” I shrank under the stares of three gloomy faces.  No one said anything. They all just stood there looking at me. “Well, do I have to pull it out of you or is someone going to say something?” I was getting frustrated and it came out in my tone.

“Grace, Pat
Ricchicardo copped to a lot of things…to the girls, the fingers. Says they were flowers for the pretty ladies,” Dean finally spoke up, looking rather ridiculous twirling his finger at his head. “Fucking fruit cake.”

“Flowers?” I was truly
confused. “What do you mean flowers?”

“Listen…”
Michelle spoke and my head whipped around to face her. “He’s some crazy fucker that did time with
Jonathan
…” I saw her shake reluctantly. “He cut fingers off of the girls he kidnapped and delivered them to various women that Jonathan…well girls, he, um, knew.” She shook her head like she was trying to eradicate a fly. I was even more confused. “He and psycho boy were roommates or jail mates, or whatever these low-lives call themselves. Anyway, psycho boy…
Jonathan
, had dickwad,
Pat,
poison Tony. They tried to kill him, but didn’t succeed. Tony had a heart attack and lived. Dickwad was supposed to kill him. Apparently Jonathan really hated Tony…so anyway, dickwad fucked it up.”

“I can take it from here
,” Dean announced.

“Fuck that
,” she said as she whirled around to face Dean. Then without out so much as a second thought, she turned her head and continued her tale, “…so...to make up for not killing Tony, Jonathan made some sort of arrangement with dickwad, to torture you…and me. Anyway the cops found a bunch of coded notes or messages in his room. He was a total fruit loop.  Son of a bitch murdered his own mother, using the same poison he fed to Tony. Then turned the air conditioning up… so the smell…”

“WHAT?” I interrupted her. “Jonathan…?”

“Yeah, Jonathan told dickwad to do horrible things that would scare us. It worked…
I fucking hate that son of a bitch
.” She shook her head as she whispered her last remark. Closing her eyes she titled her head back. I knew Michelle, so this expression wasn’t new to me. “So listen, he didn’t murder…well he kinda did, he admitted to cutting the fingers off the woman they found dead in the park in Brooklyn, but the official cause of death was a heart attack. Then the crazy fucker kidnapped the girl we rescued…she’s hanging in there, by the way, looks like she’s gonna make it…anyway, he cut off fingers and sent them to us, and a few other unlucky girls Jonathan wanted to torture, but he’s got an alibi for the night Lauren Buckley was killed.” She put her coffee mug into the sink and opened the fridge taking out a bottle of water.

“I’m not gonna need that Shelle…
” My stare was vehemently directed at her. “So he didn’t kill Lauren Buckley?” I was more than perplexed. Michelle shrugged her shoulders and placed the bottle on the counter.

“No
. Piece of shit got a little too high, and some cops downtown picked him up. Turns out he was in the tank all night.”

“Tank?”

“Yeah, that’s what they call the holding cell.” She opened the bottle and took a sip herself. “He’ll never see the light of day. Most likely gonna end up being Jonathan’s bitch again.” She was sounding more like a crime novel by the minute. Cole’s features contorted when he heard her last remark.

I s
uddenly realized it wasn’t over. The cloud still sat directly over our heads, pressing down on us.

“Shit!” I turned to go back into the bedroom. I was so angry
, tears were building, and I didn’t need Michelle’s smart assed attitude right now.

I sat on the edge of the bed with my hands over my face.

You have got to be kidding me.

All the joy I felt last night
began circling the drain, and I was plunged back into the abyss. A huff of pent up air escaped my lungs, deflating me. I didn’t hear Cole come in.

“It’s going to be okay Grace
,” he said softly.

“No it’s not, it’s the never ending nightmare… I hate this so much.”

He sat next to me and pulled me against him as he massaged my lower back.

As if this crazy existence could
n’t get worse. Cole was formally arrested the very next day. Seems his high-priced lawyer didn’t have enough juice to keep his high-profile client out of the headlines. His name and picture was plastered in all the newspapers and the local news had a field day. ‘New York City’s newest, most wealthy, eligible bachelor has been formally charged with the murder of his ex-fiancée’.
God give me strength.

He and his lawyer went into court and plead
ed not guilty of course, and he was released on bail. It was an exorbitant amount, but obviously no amount could prevent him from coming home to me.

On top of that
, we were informed by the lawyers Cole had working on getting custody of his son Kyle, that the paperwork was tied up in the court system, and indeterminately delayed. We both knew it had something to do with the murder of Lauren Buckley, but neither of us verbalized our thoughts.

I tried hard to keep a positive outlook, if not for myself, I had to do it for Cole. He was being ripped apart inside and it pained me to see him like this. He maintained his strong outward appearance
, but I could see the clenching of his jaw, and the tension in his stare. He was hurting and there wasn’t anything I could do to help him…until I could. I found a way.

I surprised him by arranging
a flight to Denver to visit with his son. My stepfather pulled in some favors and we were granted supervised visits with Kyle. It wasn’t perfect but it was something. Actually, it was amazing to see Cole’s eyes light up when he’d pick up that little boy
in his arms. It was stunning to realize he was a little over six months now. It was striking, how much Kyle resembled his father.

It was love at first sight for me. It didn’t matter how he got here, I was so happy he was here
that nothing else mattered. He was a part of Cole; so pure, so innocent, so untouched by the ugly world that surrounded him.

If I could bottle the effect that seeing his son had on Cole, and drip it into his morning java every day
, I would. He was transformed, a new man. One that could oversee the horrors that had followed his every step through life, as he pushed through the world unprotected.

That little boy had a smile that, I can’t believe I’m
actually saying this right now, rivaled his father’s. It was mesmerizing. I wanted to hold him tightly never let go. I wanted to protect him from anything and everything the world could possibly throw his way.

Those visits breathed new life into Cole, and at night
…at night he had me. He’d sink himself into me, looking for comfort the only way he knew how.

One
night, the three of us were sitting at the dining table, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. There was something we were overlooking. There had to be. We all stared off into our own space—and I mean space—like the final frontier, and all that shit.

“Grace, have you seen my keys?” Cole asked, his voice pulling me back to planet earth. He stood in front of us running his hands through his hair exasperatingly.

“In your briefcase, no?”

“I looked.” He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a coffee.

Just then a phone rang—a very
annoying
ring—so it was no surprise when Dean reached in his pocket and came out holding his vibrating cell.

“
Johansen…” He paused. I was sure it was for dramatic effect, or to turn Michelle on; either way I didn’t really care. “Run that past me again…” He stared at the ceiling, with a crazed smile on his face. “Get the fuck out! Okay, give me thirty minutes. I’ll…no…right. Yes with them now…give me thirty minutes.” He pushed a button killing the call and tucked the little annoying device back into his pocket.

He pulled Michelle to him and whispered in her ear. She looked up at him and nodded. Then
he kissed her, rather perfunctory, and looked towards the kitchen nodding to Cole. He avoided looking in my direction totally, and without further ado, left my apartment the same way he walked in…uninvited.

I looked at Michelle and just shook my head. She walked over and wrapped her arms around my middle hugging me.

“Grace,
I got to say
…
You got balls…balls of steel
.” Her Brooklyn accent spot on. I couldn’t help myself and I laughed out loud. She stepped away, lifted herself up onto her tippy toes and kissed Cole on his cheek and said, “Take care of my girl here.”

I heard him
murmur, “I will,” under his breath. She turned and walked out pulling the door closed behind her.

I got balls…