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“Likely.” I moved from my desk toward the window, staring out at the heavy, thick clouds. Rain fell heavily, peppering the earth below. I could almost hear the rumble of thunder in the distance, although it was impossible through the thick panes of glass. The ground was soaked, the storm rolling in unexpectedly as happened in the early spring. The bleak weather matched my ugly mood, a dark foreboding feeling remaining in the pit of my stomach.
My mystery lover had dropped me off at my apartment building, saying nothing on the short ride from the hotel. There hadn’t been any discussion of seeing each other again, no numbers exchanged. He was ghosting me. At first, I’d been incensed. After a few hours of tossing and turning, I’d concluded it was in my best interest never to see him again.
Why?
Because of my family obligations? Because I was terrified at what the rough, incredible sex would lead to? At this point, I didn’t have the answers.
“I take it you’re still among the living,” she retorted, returning to her usual sarcastic self.
“You’re talking to me, aren’t you?”
“I never thought you’d go through with fucking a stranger. That is what happened, isn’t it?”
I glanced over my shoulder at my closed office door, allowing a smile. Why shouldn’t I? It was the best sex of my life. “Yes.”
“Yes? That’s all I get? Oh, no, you don’t. I need details.”
“Hmmm… Let’s just say the package underneath was far superior to the dark and dangerous look.”
She squealed, the sound loud enough I pulled the phone away from my ear. “You’re so lucky. Are you going to see him again? Did he get your number? Did he give you incredible orgasms, the kind you’ll remember all your life? Was it worth the risk?”
Her questions were fired off fast and furious. At least she made me laugh, shaking the strange heaviness I’d felt all morning. “Let’s see. No. No. Yes and yes.”
“Why aren’t you going to see him again?”
“Because it was an event, a sinful one-night stand? Nothing more. Besides, I don’t need entanglement right now.” I wasn’t going to say I was a good Catholic girl because that would be a bold-faced lie.
“Oh, the impending wedding.”
“There will be no wedding!” I snapped far too harshly. “At least as long as I have a say in the matter.” Which, according to my father, I didn’t.
“Understood. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, you wicked beast.”
Chuckling, I returned to my desk, my chest tight. “I need to get to a meeting.” I lied and I wasn’t certain why.
“I need more details, girl. Later.”
I tossed my phone on the desk, planting my hands on the smooth surface and staring at my computer. Today wasn’t going to be productive.
A dull ache remained between my eyes, the thought of my father’s command the cause I’d done everything to put my past and my father’s taste for corruption behind me. Yet every time I talked with him, ugly memories rushed to the surface.
Including the night that had changed my life.
A flash of images roared into my mind, almost all shadowed except for the bright orange of the flames flickering high in the sky, embers fluttering to the earth in a dance of death. I’d never forget the sound; wood crackling as the fire consumed everything in its path, the roar of the powerful explosions, the sharp whinnying of the horses as they raced away in terror.
Or the screams.
I squeezed my hands over my ears, praying the sound could be drowned out. Nightmares had plagued me for years in the beginning, the brutal reality of death keeping me swimming in murky waters. They’d finally faded, the wretched memories locked away.
Now they’d returned with a vengeance.
And my father was to blame.
No. He would not rule my life.
I would rather die first.
CHAPTER9
