Mind Games, page 41
When she just shook her head, he took her other hand.
“Then I’ll tell you, and I’ll hope you believe me. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I do about you. Because there’s no one else like you. I don’t want to pick up where we left off. I sure as hell don’t want to go backward to see if we can get it rolling again. I want to start right now.”
She looked into his eyes, and didn’t need to go deeper than that to believe him. “Now’s good for me.”
“Just like that,” he said softly, and brought her hands to his lips.
“I could find a way to live without you, but I don’t see why I should. I want someone who understands who I am, and loves me anyway. And here you are.”
With their hands still linked, she leaned toward him. With the kiss, that first meeting of lips, everything inside her settled into place. Then she rose, drawing him up so her arms could wrap around him, and his around hers.
“Now’s currently my favorite word.” She sighed against him. “Now’s everything tied up in a bow. Come upstairs with me now. I’ve missed being with you.”
When her phone signaled, she sighed again, glanced down to read the display. “It’s Rem. If I don’t answer, he’ll just come back.”
“He wants to kick my ass.” Accepting, Ty stepped back. “I don’t hold it against him.”
She picked up the phone. “How are they? Oh, that’s good. That’s good. I know you mopped up your share of tears today, but you couldn’t have come at a better time. Yes.”
She flicked up a glance at Ty. “Ty’s still here. No, I don’t, and we can talk about all that tomorrow. I’m more than okay, Rem. You’ve done your good deed today, and I’ll let you know when I need you to do one for me. Now stay away. You really want to know why? Because I’m about to take Ty to bed. You asked. Bye.”
After ending the call, she put the phone down. “Everyone’s fine, and Rem wanted to make sure you didn’t need your ass kicked.
“Now,” she said, and boosted herself up to wrap her legs around his waist.
“Now’s also good for me.”
She drove him crazy as he carried her out of the kitchen, turned to walk upstairs. Quick, hot kisses along his jawline, fingers streaming through his hair. A light nip at his throat before her lips came back to his to savor long and deep.
“Something else comes down through my family,” she told him. “You should know. When we love, really love, we don’t stop. It’s … for all time.”
“I’ll take that.” He turned into her bedroom. “And I’ll give it back to you.”
He lay with her on the bed, looked down at her. “Thea in sunlight,” he said, “and she shines. I see you.”
Because he wanted it loose, he tugged the band out of her hair.
“I’ve told you, but now let me show you.”
As she had his, he savored her mouth. Let time spin out, for both of them. The sounds of pleasure that hummed in her throat urged him to take more. But his hands didn’t rush, not yet, as they roamed over her.
He’d missed the feel of her under him, the length of her, the shape of her, the scent that always seemed to cling to her skin. He took time to savor those as well even as she busily unbuttoned his shirt, when he felt her hands run over his chest, then his shoulders to tug it away.
“I want your skin against mine,” she murmured. “I’ve had to not want that. Now I can. I do.”
He drew the tank up and away. “You were dressed like this when I saw you dancing with a sword. That was a moment.”
He trailed a finger just above the sports bra. Then lowered his head so his lips took the same route.
“I couldn’t let myself want you then, too much, because Bray was with me. Now I can. I do.”
He peeled the bra away. “More than I knew I could.”
She drew him back down to her, let the sensations and the pleasure that wound with them saturate her. This was hers now, the love, the trust, the knowing she’d always dreamed of.
With him she could float on that pleasure, then flash when her nerve endings sparked. Heat came alive under her skin, then a dreamy spread of warmth followed as those artist’s hands glided over her.
A laugh bubbled up when he started to tug her pants down.
“They’re called tights for a reason.”
“That’s what I like about them.” He exposed an inch, then another. “This may take a while.”
Then his mouth glided down her throat, over her breasts, lingering, lingering before roaming down her torso. And down.
No floating now, but flying, catapulted into the sudden storm of pleasure. Her hands gripped the bedding, then released as she gave herself over.
Alive. She’d never felt more alive than in the spinning, whirling now.
And she could take more, she could give more. Desperate to do both, she rolled with him in the sunlight, his heart beating out the moments against hers. It seemed the planes of his body had been made to fit the curves of hers.
She stripped off his jeans and reveled in the feel of him over her, under her as they tangled together.
Love and lust and life surged through her as she straddled him, as she looked into his eyes and saw the same in them.
Here was a dream she didn’t have to build.
“Now,” she said, and took him in.
He gripped her hips as she drove him toward more, and still more. Above him, her body rose, every line of it somehow perfect. The air went thick as he struggled for some slippery hold on control, enough to let her ride. And ride she did, body arched, arms lifted.
With every rise and fall she drove him closer to the edge.
Then her body shuddered, her hands slid down as if embracing the heat.
He reared up, wrapped around her, and took that final, glorious leap.
Love. She loved, and was loved. And the world changed. The sun didn’t really shine brighter, the air didn’t really smell sweeter. But it seemed so.
Everything seemed brighter and sweeter when she lay with the man who loved her.
Half dreaming, she opened her eyes, found his looking into them. And his hand covered hers, nudging her circling thumb away so his could take its place.
“It’ll pass,” she told him.
“There has to be something else, something more. Some way to stop it. Stop him.”
She didn’t want to think about it now, not now when her world had changed, had opened. But wasn’t that exactly why Riggs pried so hard at the block?
“I think there might be. I need to think it through a little more.” Because thinking it through terrified her.
“Tell me.”
“I haven’t worked it all out. And Bray’ll be home from school soon.”
“You’re stalling.”
“Yeah, yeah, I am. But I really do need to work it out. I need a game plan, and when I have one, I’ll tell you. You love me?”
“I do.”
“That’s the first step in the plan. I won’t do anything without telling you. It’s gone. He’s gone.” For now.
Thea laid her hand on his cheek. “When I have that game plan, I’ll tell you. I think I’m going to need your help.”
“You’ll have it.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
She’d approach it as she would any game concept.
When Ty left, taking a joyful Bunk with him, she gave it an hour. If she thought of it as a game, it calmed her.
Because the risk wasn’t just losing, having your avatar destroyed. There’d be no rematch, no restart.
All or nothing this time.
But she laid out the concept as any other. She drew herself, she drew Riggs. Then drew others.
While she’d build the game for only two players, others would take key parts.
She imagined the worlds they’d inhabit and started her basic research.
Then she set it aside. Riggs wouldn’t dominate her life. And if she succeeded, he’d never come into it again.
Rather than pin her notes and images to her board, she put them in a file. Just hers for now. There would be no beta testing, no consultations.
All or nothing, she thought again, and grabbed a jacket.
As she walked down the lane, she imagined absolute freedom, the kind she hadn’t felt since the night Riggs murdered her parents.
Despite him, she’d found happiness, contentment, fulfillment. But what would it be like to have that freedom?
She intended to find out.
Bunk spotted her first, and galloped up the lane. With a cheer, Bray scrambled after.
When he launched himself at her, she swung him up and around.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.”
“No more so busy.”
She pressed her face to the sweet curve of his neck. “No more so busy.”
As she held the boy, Ty stepped out onto the porch.
This was hers now. It could be hers tomorrow, and the next day and the next. That was worth the risk.
* * *
She worked through the week, rejecting scenarios, refining others. Every time Riggs pushed, she pushed harder. Did she worry him? she wondered. Did he have some whiff she planned something?
Let him sniff, she thought as she paced her studio. Let him sweat.
She didn’t intend this game to be fair or equitable. She just intended to win.
She studied every pitfall, every obstacle, every move and countermove. Some, she knew, she’d have to deal with on the spot. Her opponent had a surplus of guile and viciousness.
But he’d fight to kill while she fought to live. She firmly believed that gave her the advantage.
At last, she sat back, admitted she could refine and polish and anticipate for months. But when it came down to it, it would be her mind against his.
It had always come down to that.
Time, she thought, for the next step in the process. She called a family meeting.
In her kitchen, Lucy dished up some apple cobbler.
“We haven’t had a family meeting in a while,” she said. “Let’s start off with some good news.”
“Sales were up for Mountain Magic in October. And look to be up another five percent in November.”
“That’s good news, Rem, but I’m not talking business.” Lucy scrubbed at his hair before she set down the cobbler.
“It’s not just business, though, is it?”
“It’s not. I heard Adalaide started school.”
“She did,” Thea confirmed. “Bray told me, and Nadine came by to see me. She said Jed was so shaken by Adalaide taking off like that, getting lost, he drove her in her first day himself.”
“Time something knocked some sense in his head. I was hoping you’d called the meeting to give us some happy news about you and Ty, but that’s not the look I see on your face.”
“Ty and I are fine, Grammie. More than fine.”
“Teenage dream realized.”
“Maybe.” Thea looked at Rem and didn’t mind the smirk. “And the possibility of that’s part of why I asked us to meet. I can see that possibility, and if it doesn’t fully realize, then it wasn’t meant to. But I can see it. Because I can, I can see having a life free and clear. One without Riggs clawing his fingers into my head.”
“I thought things were better there.”
“They were, now they’re not. It doesn’t last, Rem, the better doesn’t last. It never has. And maybe I have some part in that by taunting him the way I did right after he went to prison. And more than a few times after. But if I helped open the door, it’s way past time I not only shut it, but eradicate it.”
“How?”
“I’m going to Virginia, to the prison, to see him, face-to-face.”
“No, absolutely no. Are you crazy?” Rem’s chair scraped the floor as he turned it toward her. “You’ll just give him more power. For fuck’s sake, Thea, if going there through some mind meld deal started this, how much worse is this?”
Lucy reached out to pat Rem’s fisted hand. “I have to agree with Rem on this, darling. The more distance between you, the better. I’ve often wondered if the fact the prison’s only about an hour from here plays into this.”
“It didn’t stop him when I was at college, or when I’ve been in New York. He just worms his way in, and it’s getting worse. I can’t go on this way, I can’t keep living this way, just waiting until he finds another chink. Whatever connects us, I have to break it. Finish it.”
“How’s being in the same room with him going to do that?” Rem demanded. “Even if they’d let you.”
“He’s allowed four hours’ visitation a month. I only need one. If I can’t do what I’m set on doing in an hour, I can’t do it at all. I’d never be free of him, and I’ve got to be. So I will do it.”
“Do what, exactly?”
“We’ll play a game. My game. A head game.”
“This is bullshit. Grammie.”
“Thea, this isn’t something you play with. You don’t risk yourself, your mind, your gift like this.”
“If not for this, then what?” Frustrated, Thea lifted her hands, palms up. “Do I spend my life this way, waiting, fighting, hounded? I have a chance, a real chance. Ty loves me, and—”
“This isn’t about Ty,” Rem snapped.
“No, it’s about me. About the possibility of that life, one I want, of being free to have it. How can I have it this way?”
She took a moment, then said what had lurked in her mind for years.
“What if I have children? I want children. What if I have a daughter? Do I pass this to her, and does he hound her? How would I protect her from him? He’s young, he could live for decades yet. How could I even think about having a daughter he’d torment?
“Wouldn’t you risk it, Grammie? Wouldn’t you risk anything to protect a child you want so much?”
Lucy covered her mouth with her hand, then dropped it. “Yes. Yes, I would.”
“Grammie.”
“Rem. Do you think if I could’ve saved your mama and daddy, I wouldn’t have fought that bastard with my bare hands? If you could’ve spared Thea from what she’d dealt with all these years, wouldn’t you? It’s who we are.”
She reached across the table for Thea’s hand. “I don’t want you to do this, but I understand why you would.”
“I want a clearer picture. A hell of a lot clearer. Or I swear I’ll find a way to stop you.”
He couldn’t, she thought, but she had to appreciate a brother who’d try.
“I’ve built a game. It’s rudimentary, as it has to form as we go. I can’t anticipate his every move or choice. We played before, and I hurt him. I scared him, and, hurt and scared, he backed off for some time. But if I win—when I win this,” she corrected, “he won’t come back from it.”
“That’s not a clear picture. And it doesn’t explain why you have to go see him.”
“Because, Rem, I’ll be in charge. I’m free to walk out at any time. He isn’t. And he knows it. Because he does, that weighs on my side of the scale.
“I put him there. And I know him. I know his mind much better than he knows mine. Being there shows I’m not afraid of him, and he wants me to be. Needs me to be, but I’m not. He’ll be afraid of me before it’s done. I have the advantage.”
She shook back her hair. “I haven’t designed a game with a level playing field. I’ll have considerable advantage.”
“Maybe I like the sound of that part. Spell it out.”
“It’s his life. His wasted, miserable life.”
* * *
They’d get behind her. That’s what they did for each other, Thea knew. And they’d worry. Family did plenty of that, but she’d have them with her in mind and heart and spirit.
Another advantage, perhaps the most vital. And one Ray Riggs would never match.
When she turned onto the lane, Bunk began to rumble and wag at the idea of another visit. She hadn’t intended to stop now, when Ty would likely be working.
More of an excuse than a reason, she admitted. The idea of going over it all again with someone who loved her exhausted her.
But she had a game plan, and she’d promised to tell him when she did.
So she stopped, and told herself if she heard music, she’d get back in the car and wait until later.
The minute she stepped out of the car, even before Bunk leaped out behind her, she heard it.
The long, loud, defiant guitar riff blasted against the windows of the little house, shot out into the air, and vibrated straight into her body.
What followed was charged, as electric as the instrument he played, and as fast as lightning.
Unable to resist, she followed that rage of sound around to the back of the house.
She saw him through the window, and lost her breath.
He stood outside his studio, worn jeans slung low, a flannel shirt loose and open over a gray tee. And fingers flying over a slick black guitar.
He moved with it, slicing the neck down, swinging it back. His eyes almost burning green as his hair flew.
This, she thought, exactly this, had done her in at sixteen. Not just the look of him—though God, wasn’t that enough—but what he could create, what he had inside him that he could send soaring out into the world.
Ready or not.
She had to admit, it sure as hell hadn’t lost its power.
Then abruptly, he stopped. She clearly saw him mouth: Fuck, no. Again.
He set and ripped out that wild opening riff again.
Sheer admiration made her want to stay, a silent audience of one, but she started to back away.
He caught the movement; his fingers stilled. And he smiled. Guitar still strapped on, he walked to the door and opened it.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry to interrupt. I heard the music and…”
“I guess it was pretty loud.”
“It’s meant to be.”
“Yeah.” He took her hand to draw her in, his fingers still hot from the strings. “And pissed off. Haven’t quite hit that.”
“It sounded pissed off.”
“Not enough.”
“No, don’t stop.” She eased back when he started to take off the guitar. “I was just on my way home.”
