He wanted it to be glorious for her. For both of us.
Soon. He’d be inside her soon. Soon, soon, soon. He chanted the words in his mind to stave off his orgasm until she shoved at his shoulders.
‘Now,’ she demanded. She flung her arm to the side, fingers feeling for the condom he’d left on the nightstand. ‘Do it now. Please, Rafe. Please.’
Yes. Now. He reared to his knees, putting his weight on his good leg so that he could roll the condom on without falling over. Because wouldn’t that be sexy as hell.
He looked down to find her staring up at him, her green eyes dark with nothing but lust. No, not only lust. There was intense affection there too, and it gripped his heart a split second before she gripped his cock.
‘Now,’ she repeated.
‘Now,’ he echoed. And then, watching her every reaction, he slid into her, exhaling on a ragged groan. ‘God. Mercy.’
Her eyes fluttered closed and she hummed. ‘Move. Please.’
So he did, mentally recording every expression on her face, the pleasure he saw there. He noted what made her breath hitch and what made her moan. What made her dig her nails into his skin, what made her claw at his back. What made her wrap her legs around his hips and work herself on him.
He clenched his teeth harder, trying to hold off coming until he couldn’t anymore. Shifting to one arm, he slid his hand between their bodies, finding her clit and fingering her, fast and hard.
‘Now,’ he whispered. ‘Come for me, Mercy. Now.’
He pinched her clit and she cried out, body arching, face so goddamn beautiful that he forgot to breathe. And then he was coming too, pressing his face to her neck as his body convulsed and his vision went white.
His head stopped spinning eventually. She was petting him like he was one of her cats, long strokes up his spine and into his hair. He couldn’t think of a single coherent word to say. But she did.
‘Glorious,’ she whispered.
His lips curved against her skin, damp with perspiration. Pride filled him, but he didn’t think he could preen if his life depended on it. ‘Yes.’
And he’d do even better the next time.
Sacramento, California
Wednesday, 19 April, 3.40 A.M.
‘You didn’t need to see us off,’ Farrah said when Mercy met her and André coming down Rafe’s stairs. But she followed it up with a hug so hard that Mercy’s ribs protested. ‘You need to sleep.’
‘I did. A little.’ And then Rafe had woken her up and they’d made love all over again and it had been more glorious than the first time. When she’d heard footsteps on the landing, she’d left him in bed, him snoring quietly and her feeling ridiculously proud of herself for wearing him out.
Farrah coughed to cover a laugh. ‘Um, right.’ She sniffed delicately at yesterday’s sweater that Mercy had thrown on when she’d heard voices in the hall. ‘I think I know what you were doing when you weren’t sleeping a little.’
Mercy’s cheeks flamed and she took a horrified step back. She hadn’t realized that Farrah could smell what they’d been doing.
‘Leave her alone, Farrah,’ André said. He leaned in to kiss Mercy’s cheek. ‘Go back inside now. We don’t want you anywhere near the door when we go out.’
Mercy frowned. ‘I hate that you’re going to the airport alone.’
‘We’re not,’ André assured her. ‘Rafe’s brother Damien is going to drive us in his car, then he’ll come back later to return the rental.’
‘He was worried that the rental’s been in the driveway all this time,’ Farrah explained. ‘Especially after Burton planted the trackers on Erin’s SUV and Sasha’s Mini.’
‘Has Damien been sitting outside all this time?’ Mercy asked, worried about him now. ‘He can’t have gotten any sleep.’
‘More sleep than you did,’ Damien said, coming down the stairs. ‘The Fed Molina sent watched my car so that I could get some shut-eye. I slept on Sasha’s couch.’ He winced. ‘Tell Rafe that the floors are really thin.’
Mercy covered her face with both hands when his meaning sank in. ‘Oh my God.’
Damien chuckled. ‘I’ll be back later, Mercy. Tell Rafe he can make it up to me with pancakes when he finally wakes his ass up.’
‘I’ll tell him,’ she managed to splutter, then hugged André and Farrah again. ‘Call me when you get home, so I know you’re safe.’
Farrah cupped Mercy’s cheeks, her smile sweet. ‘I will. Please be careful, but more than that, be happy. You’ve earned this, Mercy Callahan. You’ve earned happiness, so grab it with both hands.’
Mercy’s throat grew thick. ‘I was so lucky the day our paths crossed,’ she whispered. ‘Love you, Ro.’
Farrah’s eyes filled. ‘Love you, too.’
André cleared his throat. ‘Ladies, I hate to cut your lovefest short, but we do have a plane to catch. Go inside, Mercy. I’ll make sure Farrah gets home just fine.’
With a teary wave, Mercy obeyed, leaning against Rafe’s door and listening for the front door to close before she headed to bed. But the sight of Rafe’s bulletin board stopped her in her tracks. She stood for a long moment, staring at the photos of Ephraim Burton and Edward McPhearson, aka Harry and Aubrey Franklin. In her mind she added the images of Pastor, who they now knew as Herbert Hampton, plus Waylon and DJ. All of them except for DJ had been there at Eden’s founding.
I was so lucky the day our paths crossed. The words she’d just said to Farrah rolled around in her mind, but now they bothered her. Like a name or a word that hovered on the edge of memory. The day our paths crossed, she thought again. And then it hit her. Her path had crossed Farrah’s at college, that first day. Mercy was there because her half siblings were there, even though she hadn’t met them yet. Farrah was there because everyone in her family had gone to that university.
How had the leaders of Eden ended up there? How had their paths crossed? Ephraim and Edward were brothers, so that answer was clear, but how had their paths crossed with Pastor’s? When Ephraim and Edward were on the run, why did they run to Eden? DJ was Waylon’s son, but exactly how did Waylon fit in?
She sat on the sofa and reached for Rafe’s notebook. At the top of a blank page she wrote, How do they connect? Where did they meet? Below she jotted ideas as they popped into her mind. Random? E & E just stumbled into Eden? Why was Waylon the only one allowed to leave the compound? And then, Edward served time.
Aubrey Franklin’s mug shot was testament to that fact. Rafe had already researched it, tacking to his bulletin board the newspaper articles about the thirty-year-old bank robbery and murder of three people. One article said that Aubrey had served time at Terminal Island, a federal correctional institution in LA, for an even older bank robbery.