I'll give her what she needs, which means she gives me what I desire so fucking much right now.
My hand reaches out... grips the hair at the back of her head.
I push her face down into my lap, showing her how much I believe in her strength.
Chapter 14
Now this is making love.
It's the first time I've ever truly believed in that term.
The slow glide of my flesh against hers... pressing deep... rocking her toward a climax. The depth of my feelings for this woman threatening to blow me apart at any moment. This right here is the start of a new life for Macy and me.
My hands find hers, and we clasp tight. I kiss her gently while I continue to just rock gently against her body. She moans and writhes, as swept away as I am in these sensations. She doesn't beg me for harder or faster, which tells me Macy knows this is different too. And she's accepting of that difference.
Muscles tensing. Her body quivering. She shatters, and then trembles all around me.
And then three, two, one... I'm blowing apart with her, all of our pieces mixing and melding together. When we come down off the high, when the pieces come back together, it will be as one whole.
Yes... this is the start of a new life for both of us.
Macy curls into my side. I'm sitting up in bed, pillows propped up behind me. The only light in the room is from the lamp on my bedside table. My arm is around her, holding her tight while my fingers gently stroke her ribs.
I shouldn't be feeling this type of peace right now. So far this day, I found out the woman I love was molested by her uncle and forced to abort a child by her parents. I committed serious assault against one of the richest men in the world, and I fed on the pleasure of his pain. I let Macy tend to my wounds and suck my cock because she said she needed to show me her perseverance, and then she fed me tomato soup and grilled cheese. The evening is winding down, it's getting late, and I couldn't stop myself from having her one more time. I feasted on her for what seemed like hours, making her come over and over again with my mouth, and then I sealed my fate when I made love to her.
Yes... I'm feeling tremendous serenity right this moment, but I know it can't last.
I know we still have grave things to discuss.
"You said you'd tell me everything about what happened with Luke," I murmur, pleased she doesn't tense up against me at the mention of that evil bastard's name. "You ready to do that or do you want to get some sleep?"
"First tell me what you did to him," she says in soft command, her voice hungry to soak up the pain I inflicted on her tormentor.
"I beat the shit out of him right out in front of his apartment. I hit him over and over again, and baby... it felt so fucking good to do that."
I glance down, mostly seeing the top of Macy's head as she rests it on my chest just below my collarbone. But I see enough of the side of her face and the way her cheek plumps just a bit to know she's smiling.
"You could have been arrested," she says softly... censuring me.
"I told him to call the police," I tell her with renewed heat in my voice. "I called him a molester and dared him to bring the cops to his rescue."
"Cal," she chides. "Don't put yourself at risk for me."
"I'd do anything for you. I love you."
I don't expect the words back, but she answers me just the same. She presses into me tighter, wrapping her arm around my waist. She squeezes me, tilts her head, and kisses my chest.
I don't get the words but the actions are just fine for now.
I revel in her embrace.
"Luke was really the only one in my family that ever paid attention to me," she says... a prelude to her story, and even as gentle as her voice is, it seems like an ominous, dark cloud hovers above us. "Growing up, he'd always read me bedtime stories... took me places with him. My parents just always ignored me, but not Luke. I was special to him."
I turn slightly toward her so I can wrap my arm around her tightly. She turns her head more so her cheek is resting flat against my chest, and I rest my chin on top of her head, staring at my bedroom wall as she talks.
"When I was thirteen, I started realizing his touches were wrong. They felt shameful. I'm not even sure how it progressed to sex, but I can remember that first time. How bad it hurt... how humiliated I felt. I cried for hours afterward." Macy lifts her face and cranes her head back to meet my eyes. And she smiles encouragingly at me... because she knows this hurts me as well. "He told me it was our secret. That he was the only one who really loved me and this was how I could show him I loved him back."
I hold my tongue. I can't say any of the things I want to. Cursing that sick, motherfucking bastard... screaming it out to the world. I hold my tongue though because that would scare Macy. Instead, I squeeze... giving her reassurance. Filling her with my strength. Letting her know it's okay. One hand comes up behind her head and just before I encourage her to lie back against me, I give her a soft kiss.
"At first, I just let him do it. I was afraid and ashamed. He told me my parents wouldn't understand, and it was best no one know. But I hated it, Cal... so much. I started to fight him. I told him 'no,' but that wasn't acceptable to him. That's when he started getting rough with me. He also threatened me."
Macy's voice trails off a bit, and I use the opportunity to tell her, "You don't have to tell me all of this."
She tightens her embrace around me... her breath floating across my skin as she breathes out her memories. "Yes, I do. You need to know it all."
"Okay," I murmur my acceptance of her need to share. I'm thankful for her trust.
"Do you remember when we talked about unprotected sex in your office?"
"Yeah. You told me I was only the second man you had ever been with without a condom."
"Luke was the other," she murmurs. "He always pulled out, but we both know that's a terrible form of birth control. I was fifteen when I found out I was pregnant. I missed two periods, and so I bought a home pregnancy test."
"Did you tell Luke?"
"No," she says with a strong voice. She seems to be gaining more strength the further she goes along. Perhaps because I'm not running for the hills. Perhaps she really believes that I love her. "I went straight to my parents. I just... I just felt that's what I needed to do. But I told them the truth... that Luke got me pregnant. That he had been raping me for almost two years whenever he visited."
Her voice is so sad... so wistful.
"They didn't believe you, did they?" I know the answer though. I just know it.
She shakes her head. "They said they didn't believe me. Insisted I must have had sex with someone from my school. But deep down... I think they knew what was going on."
Disgust curdles within my stomach, more bile backing up.
"They told me I had to have an abortion. I argued against it. In hindsight... I have no clue if I should have kept the baby or not, but I know I needed more time to think about it. The minute I told my parents "no," they had the trip to Brussels booked within just a few days."
"I hate your parents, Macy," I say through clenched teeth. "They are despicable. Evil in fact."
"I fought, Cal," she says, her voice trembling with anger. "When I realized what was going on... I fucking fought them hard. They took me to Dr. Coppens' house... he brought me down to a surgical suite he had in his basement. When I saw the table and the instruments... I went nuts. I kicked Coppens hard, almost made it back to the stairs before my dad tried to restrain me. I clawed his face... he bled all over. My mom was in the background, telling me to calm down. And then... a sharp prick in my arm, Coppens' leering face over me, and I was out cold. I woke up, and I wasn't pregnant anymore."
"Oh, baby," I murmur as I hold her, slowly rocking her in my arms. "I'm so sorry. And you were so brave."
A quavering breath rushes out of Macy's lips, blows across my neck. I can feel her body go lax against me, and I realize she's just purged something that stood in between us. She got it out and i
s relieved of the burden. I'm surprised by her resilience as she lets me in on her dark secret, maybe expecting her to be more upset as she lays it out before me. But when I think about it... she's had years to live with this. Years to process. I'm getting my metaphorical nuts kicked over and over again by this information overload, but I take it on gladly for her.
"I'm done with them," she says as I continue to rock her. Her voice is defiant and steely. "I don't care what happens to them. My mom keeps calling. She's terrified of what will happen to her if her husband gets put away and I realize... I just don't care. I don't care if my father goes to prison, if he gets ass raped, rots in jail. I don't care if my mother becomes homeless. I just don't care, which means I'm done with them."
"Okay, Macy," I reassure her. Affirm her feelings. "You're done with them."
"That means I'm not telling the prosecutor what I know. I'm serious... I want to let this go... move past it. I don't give a shit about that apartment or my trust fund. I can make it on my own."
"Not on your own," I correct her. "You have me... and Mac and Matt."
Macy sighs gratefully, her true peace coming from having people that love her beyond measure. "I think you might be tying Mac now for my favorite person in the world."
That makes me smile... and want to do a victory dance.
Instead, in the interest of getting everything out on the table so we can put it to rest, I ask her, "You said you think your parents knew what Luke was doing even though they said they didn't believe you."
She nods against me, her cheek rubbing against my chest. "One time... after Luke was finished with me, my mom caught him coming out of my bedroom. I remember seeing her standing in the hall and the surprise on her face when she saw him. He was smooth... said he heard me having a nightmare. But I remember the way she looked at him. She didn't believe him. The next morning, I heard my dad and Luke in his office, and my dad was screaming at him. I couldn't tell what he was saying because his office was downstairs, but I didn't mistake the rage in my dad's voice. I'm convinced it was about what my mom saw."
"I don't get it," I say in bewilderment. "How could your parents not cut Luke out of their lives? How could they let him back into their home?"
She shrugs. "As for my mother, I think it was a simple matter of her not wanting to rock the money boat. She came from a poor background, and she probably didn't want to jeopardize her perfect life. As far as my father, who knows? Maybe because the twin bond he has with Luke is stronger than his bond with me. Maybe he has the same deviant proclivities, or maybe it was money. Maybe he just didn't want to bring Quarter Mine down. Take your pick, but I gave up a long time ago caring about the 'why' of it."
With every detail Macy gives me, my admiration of her grows. I start to understand how she could just move forward without ever looking back. I understand that maybe it's just more important to her to lead her life and not get sucked down into the shamefulness of her past. I realize... her idea of closure and mine are two completely different things.
For me, it comes in the form of retribution. Physical pain if I can grant it, but if not, helping to put Travis and Luke Carrington behind bars for as long and as quick as possible. As for Macy's mother, I'll just have to settle for the idea of her destitute and impoverished.
But for Macy, it's the exact opposite. She just doesn't care what happens to them. She's cut them loose, and while she'll always retain the memories and horror of what was done to her, it's enough for her to just know their empire is starting to crumble. Hell, maybe she even likes the idea of their lives unraveling in an almost torturously slow fashion.
A thought comes to me unbidden. Really just the last question I have before I know the full story and then will strive to let it go the way Macy has. "Did Luke ever know you were pregnant?"
"He was at my parents' apartment the day we left for Brussels. Came to see us off, I guess. Just as we were walking out the door, I remember he said, 'Say hello to Emiel for me'. So, I think it's safe to say he knew. I didn't see him again for three years because my parents immediately shipped me off to a boarding school in Virginia."
Those last details... Macy's parents washing their hands of her after their despicable act. That hurts me greatly. Once again, I feel sorrow for all the pain this beautiful woman endured.
But what stands out in my mind most? What is actually making my blood tingle just a bit?
Luke Carrington knew Emiel Coppens.
An idea starts to form...
Chapter 15
From the Diary of Macy Carrington:
Dear Diary,
Cal loves me.
My past doesn't matter anymore.
I've lost every dime to my name, and yet I couldn't be happier.
Life is good.
Love,
Macy
Chapter 16
"I'm going to kill Mrs. Stockton," Mac says in a dramatic voice as she walks into my office and flops into one of my guest chairs.
I push the deposition transcript I was reviewing away and give her my full attention. "What did the old bat do now?"
"She wants to change her will... again. This time, she's decided to leave her fortune, which I think consists of a musty old cat and its litter box, to Herbert Prank."
"Who's Herbert Prank?"
"Her sweetie pie in the nursing home. He apparently just moved in last week and it's true love," she says with a theatrical sigh.
Then she beams a brilliant smile at me, causing me to shake my head in amusement. It also immediately tells me she's not really upset with Mrs. Stockton and likes humoring the old woman, even though this is the fifth time Mac has changed her will this year.
"So what really brings you down to my office?" I ask as I lean back in my chair.
"Just checking on you... seeing how things are going. You and Macy interested in grabbing some dinner with Matt and me tonight?"
It's amazing how far we've all come in just a few months. Mac, Matt, Macy, and me... double dating. I find this odd, which means Macy probably finds it practically alien.
"Sure," I say with a smile. "Sounds fun."
And it does.
This past week things have settled down immensely. Macy has stayed at my apartment every single night, even lugging over her suitcases from Mac's one day while I was at work. I chastised her for this, as I could have done that for her, but secretly, I was more than delighted she took it upon herself. Because she didn't even ask if she could move the stuff in. She just did it, which was fucking fantastic as far as I was concerned.
It showed she trusted in my feelings for her. That she understands there isn't anything I wouldn't do for her.
Macy has seemingly moved on. She seems lighter in spirit since she unburdened her soul to me. Her affection is apparent--her touches freer. She's become an immense cuddler, and one of her favorite things to do is lay her head on my lap while we watch TV together and let me stroke her hair.
She hasn't missed a beat in her drum of life. Every day, she heads to The Faith Mission, where she puts in a full day of volunteering. At night, she combs the classifieds and Craig's List for a job, telling me she'd take anything just to make some money.
I'm so fucking proud of her and what she's trying to accomplish. What I really want to tell her is that I'll take care of her. She can continue to do her volunteer work and I'll support her, but I know that would go over like a ton of bricks with Macy. She's determined to survive on her own merits.
The phone on my desk starts ringing, and the caller ID shows it's Keith Marlow. I pick it up and say, "Hang on a second, Keith."
Covering the receiver with my hand, I tell Mac, "I've got to take this call. Just pick a place for dinner and text us. We'll meet you there."
She gives me a snappy salute and heads out of my office.
"Close the door," I call out to her and she does, effectively sealing me in the privacy I need for this call.
Because while Macy is content to cut her parents loose and let the ju
stice system meander along, I find myself wanting some immediate retribution against Luke and her father. Both men are still strutting around town, eating their fancy meals and wearing their thousand-dollar suits. Matt told me he heard through the grapevine that the Carringtons all moved into the Waldorf Astoria once their Manhattan penthouse was seized, proving the government didn't get all their money.
This display of their continued wealth and power. Their unapologetic lives and remorseless behavior. It fucking eats at me, and I can't sit back and just watch the clock tick by.
The minute Macy told me Luke knew Emiel Coppens, I started digging deep.
First thing I did was call Dee Switzer. I told her Macy was unwilling to give a statement, but I might have something that could help. Without telling Dee a single detail, I merely asked her to tell me if the financial records indicated whether Luke had ever been to Brussels to meet Dr. Coppens.
She called me back within an hour, telling me there are no records showing that Luke Carrington ever flew into Brussels. He was a traveling man, for sure, but Belgium wasn't on his list of destinations. In fact, she told me Luke Carrington spent half of the year at a home he owned in London and worked from the Quarter Mine offices there. The other half of the year, he lived in New York City.
The only other thing I asked of Dee is if she had a list of all the countries that Luke had traveled to the past twenty years. She happily emailed me an excel spreadsheet with the details.
My next call was to Keith Marlow.
And for the right amount of money, Keith was willing to drop all his other cases to work exclusively for me. For additional monies, Keith assured me he could grease enough palms to get the information I wanted. And for just a bit more money, Keith was willing to fly to Belgium for me. I had no qualms with dipping into my 401K and taking out a loan to fund my little investigation into the man that had stolen Macy's life from her.
Glancing at my watch, I note it's just shy of noon, meaning it was close to five PM for Keith.
"What did you find out?" I ask him without preamble.
"He definitely knows Luke Carrington, and he's wigged out that I know the connection."