The words sounded hollow. He knew it was all lies, part of the game. Catch the mouse, injure it a bit, let it go free, and then capture it again, each time doing more and more damage, even licking its wounds, before the final crunch or a “natural” death. The term “Cat and Mouse” was only a partial description. It was more like something from Dante’s Inferno.
He inhaled carefully and continued. “This, this is how you ask for sympathy?”
“Because I know you won’t give it. I’m not asking. I’m demanding.”
“You’re insane, Rebecca. I should have you arrested and—” Marco was seeing another side of her entirely. A very unbalanced and dangerous side. He knew she could smell his fear too. She was a predator. Marco was a protector. It was going to be a fight to the death. Her mind had completely unwound.
“Rebecca, don’t destroy the last ounce of respect I once had for you with this. Get some help. This is a suicide mission. You’ll take a lot of innocents down with you. And you’ll still lose. Are you there, still there, Rebecca?”
He wasn’t going to allow himself to feel sorry for her, but he was a fair man, a man of compassion, which made him feel proud. Rebecca had become an animal and probably was well on her way to full insanity.
He asked again, “Are you taking anything? Is there an underlying problem I don’t know about?”
“You see the shame in admitting all this? I was counting on you having something left for me.”
Marco shook his head. “I care about you as a person. But you’ve done some horrible things, things that have cost people jobs, cost me millions. You delayed a project that was near and dear to my heart. Even if I had anything left, I have a new life now. I’ve moved on. There is no place for you here.”
“I could make one.”
A cold chill slithered down Marco’s spine.
“What did you say?”
“I thought you needed me as much as I needed you. I thought you needed that intensity we had together. I wanted the biggest make up fuck of my lifetime. But it didn’t work out that way.”
Marco saw the imbalance taking over her. He leaned slightly to the left and made eye contact with Sivic, who stood, waiting to be invited in.
“What’s your freedom worth to you?” she asked.
He could almost see a snake’s tongue protruding from her mouth—all his imagination.
“I’m sorry, Rebecca. I’m not following you.” He looked at her hands, her purse, her pockets, suddenly fearful she might be carrying a small caliber revolver. “Are you using something because you’re not making any sense. There is absolutely nothing you could do—”
He hated himself for this slip of the tongue. That’s the last thing he should have said, because Rebecca stood up and ended their conversation with—
“Think about it. Is your freedom worth the life of someone very dear to you?”
“Rebecca, you can’t mean that—”
“Can lightning strike twice?”
Chapter 7
Shannon got home early and was preparing one of Marco’s favorite meals: lean steak, garlic mashed potatoes, and string beans, heavy with butter. For dessert, she made fresh custard with half the sugar, just as Marco liked it. It was simple, reflecting the man and his modest tastes beneath his complicated body armor, but it was the basis on which her love found safety, a firm foundation built on rock and concrete, like his buildings. Not built on sand.
She’d had an exhausting day at the office, especially avoiding anyone who had reason to interact with her, except Sandy, of course. Clarence was on his good behavior, and she asked him if he’d like to have a late lunch after her weather report at noon tomorrow. He delightedly accepted.
With twinkling eyes, like a kid at Christmas, he asked, “To what do I owe this kind gesture?”
“I want us to have a talk and understand something,” she answered.
He quickly looked down at his feet. “Oh.”
Apparently, he’d had lots of these types of conversations, she guessed.
“It’s not what you think, Clarence. I want us to work together, but I first want to set up the ground rules. I want you to be perfectly clear where I’m coming from. If you pay attention, you’ll avoid something that’s coming your way that you’re unprepared for.”
He turned his head to the side as if he could hear better from his left ear. “Sounds serious. Dark and delicious.”
The waving of his eyebrows was unnecessary and annoyed her. Are you really that clueless?
“I’ll drive and drop you back here well in time for your evening preparation,” she said.
“I don’t mind the distraction. It would be my honor—” He reached out to grab her hand for a Victorian kiss, and she stepped back.
“No. That’s partly what I’m going to talk to you about. Part of the rules.”
He adjusted his body and looked up to the sky as his fingers mimicked rain. “Okay, okay, no touchy, no touchy.”
Shannon thought about that as she sliced the green beans and set the water to boil on the stove. Marco would be home any minute, or he’d call.
She dashed to their tiny bedroom, removed the robe she’d worn after taking her second shower of the day, and added some fancy underwear. The new crotchless panties and a matching bra that exposed her nipples made her privates pulse in anticipation. She used a slight spray of Audrey Hepburn’s favorite recipe perfume, directing it mostly at the back of her neck and beneath her ears, and then spread a thin layer of cherry gel over her nipples and her private parts.
She didn’t consider it to be manipulation but was going to need all the help she could get as she tried to explain to him about the fact that she’d disobeyed his command. If she let him take it out on her sexually, it might remove some of the sting. But she wasn’t sure. All this was new territory. She wanted to be compliant but not a victim begging for mercy. A planned supplicant, showing her need for him to be master of her life because she’d done a course correction he might not agree with. She wanted to sweeten her indiscretion with a little sugar, a little salt, and a whole lot of passion.
She placed the silk robe back on and cinched the tie with a bow. Candles were lit. A bottle of red wine was opened and waiting on the table, along with two beautiful pieces of stemware he’d commandeered from the office. The water was hot, covered, waiting. The broiler was not yet on, but the steaks were marinating on a platter, properly peppered and lightly salted. The mashed potatoes were already done and sitting with a dollop of butter melting sensually into the peaks and valleys of the white and red-skinned fluffiness.
The ocean was a bit angry with white caps and a sky that was turning dark grey, meaning it would rain tonight or sooner. The sunset would still be later, depending on how many of the monstrous clouds joined them in the next hour.
Marco’s Hummer pulled into the Beach Trail Drive parking spot next to her car, and she heard the door open.
Something strange was in his expression, almost like regret as he quickly scanned her outfit, the table set for him, and then looked away.
She knew better than to press things but did it anyway.
“You look like a whole lot of good news walking in here like that.”