She lifted an eyebrow. “I remind you of your mother?”
Deborah covered her mouth and giggled. “Not at all. What I’m feeling for you is far from that.”
She gave Deborah’s chest a quick glance. Her nipples tightened before her eyes. And what are your feelings for me?
Before she could lean over to give Deborah a kiss that would lead to them both rolling around on the bed and getting sweaty, Deborah nibbled on her thumbnail and looked out the window. “I miss Mom so much.”
“Why don’t you give her a call to see how she’s doing? I bet she’d love to hear your voice.”
“I-I don’t think I can. I’m too scared to call her and find out if…” Deborah swallowed and shook her head. Her eyes brightened with unshed tears. “It’s not safe. I can’t take the chance the call may be traced.”
She thought Deborah was overreacting but didn’t say so. “What if we go out for a bite to eat? I know a great barbeque place two hours east of here, if you don’t mind the drive. We can also stop at a Walmart or Target and buy a prepaid cell phone. You can use one to make your call. Even if the call could be traced, it would lead back to there and nowhere near here. What do you say?”
The way Deborah chewed on her nail and remained quiet made her antsy. She sat up and tapped her fingers on her knee. Deborah dropped her hand away from her mouth.
“I’d need to take a shower first.”
“How about I join you?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
Deborah snickered and knelt on the bed, wrapping her arms around Bridgette’s shoulders. “That sounds like an excellent plan. But first I have a small problem that needs to be taken care of.”
“And what would that be?” She cupped Deborah’s breasts and rolled her thumbs on her aroused flesh.
“I need you to take care of my small problem regarding my nipples. I really can’t be seen in public like this,” Deborah said with mock repulsion and drifted her mouth on Bridgette’s.
She fell on top of Deborah and gladly welcomed her kisses. They spent the next hour or so kissing and touching until they showered, washing one another thoroughly. By the time they got in Bridgette’s car to take the two-hour drive to dinner, the rain had stopped and the sky had cleared.
When they reached their destination, she made sure Deborah ate even though she kept shifting in her seat and bit her nails more than her food. When they finished their dinner and found a pay phone, she held Deborah as she called her mother.
The night didn’t end with happy tears on Deborah’s end from hearing her mother’s voice but sobs of anguish and grief as she was told about her mother’s passing away a few weeks ago.
She drove back with a silent and morose Deborah until they arrived in Woodberry Creek, where she spent the night holding and comforting her, much like Deborah’s mother did when she was a child.
When Deborah fell asleep with tears marking her pale cheeks, she promised she would do whatever she could to make certain Deborah was never hurt again by anyone, even if it meant putting her own life on the line.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The pictures fell from Genevieve’s hands as she growled low in her throat. Berlinoz stood with his arms crossed and a blank look as she dug her heel on the black-and-white pictures of her cheating, lying cunt of a wife kissing another woman.
Red filled her vision, and she cursed loudly, turning away and facing the swirling rapids of the river below her.
“How long ago were these pictures taken?” she asked, voice cracking.
“Three days ago. Your wife was easy to locate since she was dressed in almost the exact same clothes she wore to her mother’s care facility. She also had a suitcase and a bag with her, as if she was getting ready to leave town. But then she and the woman sat in the park, where they had a long discussion. Afterward, they embraced and kissed, as shown in the pictures I snapped.”
“Fucking cunt.” She turned around. Berlinoz appeared bored, but she noticed the strain around his mouth and how his gaze darted around. When she had told him on the phone to meet her near the river, ten miles down from where her car was found without Deborah’s body, he’d sounded displeased. She expected him to question why she wanted to meet him here instead of her home. He didn’t.
“On the positive side, your wife doesn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon, now that she has a reason to stay,” he said.
She curled her lips, the bright-red spots growing even larger in front of her eyes. “Positive? What the fuck is wrong with you? My wife is screwing around with another woman, enjoying her new life without me! She’s probably having a good laugh at my expense, after tricking me the way she did.” She clenched her shaking fists in the air. “If that’s not bad enough, my two most trusted servants have vanished as well. They helped her escape!”
He scratched his nose and stepped away from his car. “I understand you’re upset, but screaming and yelling will get you nowhere.”
“Oh really?” A bubble of hysteria rose from her throat. “You weren’t made a fool of.” She grounded her heel on the pictures again. Leaning down, she picked up the one where Deborah and the short, stubby woman kissed passionately, and tore it to little pieces.
She would get her revenge. Before she was done with her, Deborah wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone move, after Genevieve broke every bone in her body.
“I’m going to kill her and her slut,” she said out loud, lost in the haze of her anger.
“Mrs. Murnay, I recommend you take a few days to think things through before you do something you may regret. It would be a shame if you did do something rash. I’ll be less than pleased if it comes back on me.”
She gave him a haughty stare as he cracked his knuckles. If he thought he could control her with his subtle threat, he would be in for a surprise. She pushed back her hair and rolled her head from side to side, remembering to restrain herself. “Yes, you’re correct. We wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen where you or I could end up in a precarious situation, now, wouldn’t we?” She smiled and sauntered toward him.
His stance pulsed with tension, his body rigid. Even when she swiped her finger down the front of his shirt, he didn’t relax. She pouted and tilted her chin up. “I’ve been all out of sorts from Deborah faking her death, my driver and housekeeper running away in the middle of the night, and not having any time to relieve my frustrations, if you catch my meaning?”
When he dropped his arms and shifted his legs apart, she played with her breasts and rubbed her front on him. His arousal brushed her stomach.
Ah! Not so immune as I thought. This knowledge pleased her, and she arched her back slightly to push out the breasts. She’d worn the tight top on purpose, remembering his reaction the last time he noticed her abundant cleavage.
“Mrs. Murnay, you’re not thinking correctly at this moment.” He dug his fingers into her hips. “Aren’t you a dyke?”