CHAPTER TEN
Clay
Last week, after the police showed up at The Pitt, I put security at the front gate, on the near side of the bridge, to intercept them if they come here. We do not need cops sniffing around. We protect our family, and here on Fear Island we are one big family.
My phone rings and Becker’s name pops onto the screen. “Two cops are here,” he says.
“Names.”
He gives me their names, and I type them into my program. Both their faces pop up, one a senior investigator.
“Did they say anything?”
“They are investigating a person who was reported missing,” Becker says.
“Thanks, I will meet them at the gate.” I end the call and radio Khodi. “Do not let anyone in the front gate. I’m on my way.”
“Copy that, boss.”
By the time I get to the gate, both officers are waiting. The senior detective looks to be in his mid-forties and has a “don’t fuck with me” stance, while the other is younger, probably around my age. I step through the gate to greet them.
“Gentleman.”
The older one shows me his badge. “Detective Marsh. We are hoping to speak to someone regarding an employee who worked here—Luca.”
“I’m the head of security, so I can help you with that. Please come with me.”
I walk them to the security room, avoiding all the main areas.
I do not need anyone freaking out that the police are here and causing panic.
Once inside my office, I offer them the seats facing my desk and take the chair behind it, facing my computer.
The young officer sits, but Marsh remains standing.
“Luca resigned,” I say as I bring up his profile. “It says here he left for personal reasons.”
“Did that seem unusual to you?” Marsh asks.
“As you can imagine, we have a high turnover of staff here.”
The younger of the two takes out his notepad and scribbles. “Can I have your name?”
“Clay O’Rourke.”
He nods. “Did he seem distressed before he left, or did you notice any changes in his behavior?”
“He was only here for a short time, and I didn’t interact with him regularly. He worked as a mentalist, so was not on my team, but I can get you the name of his supervisor.”
Marsh observes me, eyeing me up and down, looking for signs that I’m telling the truth. “Do you have any idea why someone may have reported him missing?”
“I’d have no way of knowing that.”
“He had a parole condition to check in weekly,” Marsh says, watching for my reaction. “He’s missed two.”
“I wasn’t aware of his record when he was hired. We run background checks through a third party. Performers are vetted for the safety of children. He checked out and nothing was flagged, so there is nothing more we could have done.”
Marsh nods while the other cop takes notes. “Is there anyone else who knew him well or spent time with him off the clock?”
“I can check, but I don’t believe so. He kept to himself.” I pause, and when they say nothing, I add. “Is there anything specific you’re looking for? If he moved on without notifying his parole officer, that would be a matter for the corrections system, rather than—”
“We are covering all our bases,” Marsh interrupts. “It’s a routine follow-up.”
“Of course.” I stand so they know I am done. “I can walk you out. If anything else comes up, I am happy to cooperate fully.”
I add the last part deliberately, as people who have something to hide rarely volunteer their cooperation. Marsh gives me one more look and nods. I walk them back out to the gate and watch as they leave.
Once I see them drive away, I turn and go back to the house. It’s still early and Khodi has done most of the morning checks. It’s fairly basic before people arrive, and more intensive between the day and night shifts to make sure no one is hiding in places they shouldn’t be.
I pour myself a drink, even though it’s early, and take a seat.
The sound of footsteps precedes Kayla walking into the kitchen, her hair a mess and one of my shirts drooping off her shoulder. She pulls out a stool and glances over at me as she yawns. She reaches over and grabs my drink, helping herself.
“That’s mine,” I growl half-heartedly.
“Sucks when someone takes something that’s yours, doesn’t it?”
I laugh and point at my shirt.
“So are you going to tell me why your face looks like that?” she asks.
I consider fucking with her, but this is not something to lie to her about.
She and Ares told us about what happened at The Pitt, and Ares came up with a plan.
We manipulated the camera footage, even when the cameras were down.
He knows people who are good at what they do, and we now have all the footage we need, stamped with the revised time and date.
“Two detectives came, asking questions about Aaron, though they only called him Luca.”
She goes still, and I can see the fear in her eyes. “What did you say?”
“That he resigned for personal reasons, just like we went over.”
“Did they believe you?” Her hands start to tremble, the drink shaking in the glass.
“Doesn’t matter if they believed me, they have nothing. Ares cleaned the cameras, and we have footage of the entire island, even the day he left. There is no footage of him returning.”
“And the grave?”
I look at her blankly. “What grave?”
She holds my gaze, and her shoulders drop. “Okay.”
“You know nothing. You haven’t seen him since you left him years ago. He didn’t contact you, and you didn’t contact him.”
“I know, we went over it all.”
“Say it, Kayla.”
“I know nothing,” she says, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Good, it’s done. And if you must know, the grave is empty.”
She looks at me for a moment longer, saying nothing to fill the silence or reassure me that I said the right thing. I glance at her and know she still carries what happened to her, even if she won’t break. “You should eat something.”
“You should stop deflecting.”
“I’m not,” I say defensively.
“Yeah, you are. That isn’t something you should have to do. You’re drinking and it’s not even eight in the morning.”
“If you didn’t steal my drink, you wouldn’t have known.”
We glare at each other for a few seconds before I concede. “I’m fine,” I mutter.
“I know you are,” she says as she stands. Just when I think she is going to leave, she walks around the island to where I’m sitting and stops in front of me. Then she tilts her chin up to look me straight in the eyes. “But you don’t always have to be.”
I take her face in my hands and bring my mouth down to hers.
Kayla deepens the kiss, and I back her up against the counter.
Her hands press against my vest, so I rush to get it undone and pull it off before pressing my lips back to hers.
Fisting her hair, I tug her head back, so her lips move from mine, and I kiss down her jaw to her neck.
Fuck, she smells so good, even first thing in the morning.
Placing my hands on her waist, I lift her onto the counter, and she wraps her legs around me.
I take my time, kissing her skin, removing my shirt from her body, happy to see she is naked beneath.
Lifting her legs from my waist, I step back slightly to appreciate the view of a gorgeous naked woman, one that is mine, sitting on the kitchen counter. A snack I am going to devour.
“Clay,” she whines under my scrutiny.
We haven’t fucked like this. It’s always heated, rough, and at full speed, but I want her to see a different side to me.
I lean forward, and she watches me intently as I press kisses to her inner thigh, each one moving higher; her fingers slide into my hair, curling tighter the higher I go.
With a smirk, I gaze up at her. I know where she wants me, and I am making it torturously slow.
When I reach her sensitive flesh, she bucks up, and I suck her pussy lip into my mouth.
Kayla wiggles beneath me, so I flatten my hand on her stomach to hold her still, while I use the flat of my tongue and drag it in a slow movement from the bottom to the top. Her breath catches when my tongue hits her clit, so I repeat the motion a few times.
When I find a rhythm her body likes, I don’t deviate from it, as that is where men go wrong.
They change up what they are doing, and all their hard work has to be started again—they don’t listen to the woman’s body.
Instead, I seal my mouth around her pussy and keep my tongue moving in the same pattern, and when her thighs tighten, I focus more on that one area.
If she moans my name, I hold my pace and let her savor every sensation until her body is strung tight, until she moans my name, and then I give her more until she comes apart around me.
She’s still coming down when I stand and pull her to the edge of the counter. Kayla reaches for my belt, yanking it open along with the button on my pants. They fall to the floor as she slides her hand beneath my boxer briefs and wraps her hand around my hard cock, releasing it from my boxers.
I take her wrist and move it away. “Not yet.”
She groans in protest, and I cut the sound off by tilting her chin up, stepping in closer, and kissing her.
I keep one hand tight on her jaw and slide the other up her inner thigh until she forgets what she was protesting for.
Her wetness tells me she is ready, so I pull back and look at her face as I slide two fingers inside her, watching her mouth fall open.
I work her body slowly, watching and learning what she likes as she rolls her hips into my hand, memorizing the angles that make her breath hitch a little.
“Fuck, your pussy feels good,” I whisper.
“Oh god, Clay, I’m going to come again,” she moans as I hook my fingers to run gently over her G-spot.
As she unravels again, her pussy clamps down hard around my fingers, and her nails dig into my shoulders.
When I remove my fingers, her eyes don’t stray from mine as I bring them to my mouth and suck them clean.
No longer able to hold back, I grab my cock and rub it through her arousal, then she holds my gaze as I push inside with one long stroke.
Her body trembles slightly as I stay fully seated, and Kayla’s legs lock around my waist, our bodies pressing chest to chest.
When she loosens her legs, I pull back and drive forward again, setting a pace that is deep and slow, drawing out as much pleasure as I can.
She feels so fucking good, and while I prefer rough, I want to connect with her like this, to show her my softer side, especially after everything she has been through.
I don’t know if she is ready for anything more at the moment, no matter how tough she thinks she is.
Rolling my hips, I find an angle that makes her squirm and keep hitting the same spot. Then I use my hand on her lower back to hold her in place, and she whispers my name and shifts her hips to meet mine.
I can’t hold back anymore.
I grip her hips hard, changing the pace to hit deeper, harder, and faster.
She matches me, pushing for more. One of her legs hooks higher around my waist, pulling me in as her head tilts back, and I lean forward and suck her neck. I leave my mark, needing everyone to see I claimed what is mine.
“Clay, fuck!”
I give her more, teetering on the edge myself. My hand moves between us, and she gasps as I circle her clit and slam into her.
Her whole body locks up, and she comes loudly as her body shakes.
I follow her over the edge and pull her body into mine, wrapping my arms around her as we both come down from the high.
She is the first to pull back, and I press my forehead against hers and close my eyes, enjoying the first moment I have been so vulnerable with her, with any woman. I have never allowed myself to be in the moment and let someone behind my walls.
When I open my eyes, I smile at her. Kayla’s hair is wild and messy. She looks thoroughly fucked.
“What?” I say when she smirks at me.
“Nothing,” she says with a shit-eating grin.
“Kayla . . .” I warn, using my “don’t fuck with me” voice, which only makes her smile more.
“I like it when you smile. You don’t have your asshole face on.”
I step back and pull up my pants. “You’re imagining things.”
I hand her the shirt she was wearing, and she pulls it on. “I wasn’t. Besides, I like this version of you, even if you just save it for me.”
“Only for you,” I say and wink at her.
And I mean it, no one else will ever get this version of me. I’m not even sure how she managed to bring him out. But if she keeps smiling at me like that, I will do it over and over again.