Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Aweek later, Whit and I shared our engagement with Henry, who wasn’t surprised at all, just eager to tell Addie as soon as he could.
“Can we go tell her now, Mama?” he asked, bouncing on his toes. “And do I get to call you Daddy now, Mr. Whit?”
Whit’s mouth opened and closed, searching for the right answer. Whit looked at me, brows raised, then back at Henry. “Well, it’s up to your mama. But I would very much like that.”
Henry turned hopeful eyes on me. “Can I, Mama?”
I was just as much at a loss for words as Whit, who automatically picked up Henry when he raised his arms to Whit. Seeing them like that…it just felt right. “I…yeah, I guess so. If that’s what you want.”
Henry threw his arms around Whit’s neck, hugging him tightly, then kissed him on the cheek. “I always knew you were my daddy.”
I flushed, confused and embarrassed. “Henry—”
“Well, I guess you were right!” Whit cut in, grinning broadly, apparently just as excited as Henry. “Should we go tell everybody?”
Panic fluttered in my chest. I wasn’t sure I wanted to share our happiness just yet. But I was clearly outnumbered. Whit was already helping Henry put on his shoes.
When I hesitated, Whit cocked his head, his brows drawing together. “Zellie, honey, you okay? We can wait if you want.”
“No, no,” I said quickly, waving away his concern. “I just… No…it’s fine.”
“You sure?” he pressed. “There’s no rush if you’re not ready.”
“Really,” I said, joining them by the apartment door and slipping my arm around Whit’s waist. “Just give me one more minute to have you to myself.”
He held me close, kissed the top of my head. “You have me for as long as you want.”
“Me too! Me too!” Henry cried, jumping up and down.
Whit released me long enough to lift Henry with one arm and then pulled me back against him. “This better?” he asked, his arm tightening around me.
I nodded. “Perfect.”
Still, the thought of telling the others filled me with dread, as if somehow it would set in motion a chain of events that would destroy our happiness, shatter my dreams when they were finally within reach.
But that was ridiculous. I was being paranoid, letting my past poison my future. So, we joined the rest of our neighbors downstairs for the weekly gathering and Whit made the announcement as soon as we’d finished supper.
There were exclamations of joy, hugs for both of us.
But there was something off, an undercurrent of tension that I couldn’t explain.
Was it just me being paranoid again? Did they think that someone like me wasn’t good enough for Whit despite the hints they’d dropped that had sometimes felt like encouragement? Or was it something else entirely?
Before we left, June pulled me aside and pressed a small cloth parcel into my palm. “Add a little of this to your morning coffee every day. It will keep you healthy.”
My brows came together. “What do you mean? What is it?”
“Just herbal supplements,” she said. “An old recipe. The women in my family have passed it down to new brides for centuries. Babies have a way of leeching nutrients right out of you.”
“Babies!” I scoffed. “That’s a bit premature, Ms. June. We haven’t even set a date for the wedding let alone talked about if we want children.”
She curled my fingers around the bundle. “Talking isn’t what gets you in a family way.”
“I’m aware of how it works,” I said, chuckling. “I have Henry, after all.”
June gripped my hand and leaned in closer. “And do you remember how you got with that child?”
Insulted now by her presumptions, I pulled my hand back, but her grip was like a vice. “How do you know anything about it?”
“Take it,” she said, her tone offering no room for argument. “You will thank me.”
“Zellie?” Whit said, suddenly at my side. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” I said, casting a wary glance at June. “Yes, it’s fine. Let’s go.”
As soon as we were in my apartment and Henry had gone to his room to get his pajamas, I rounded on Whit. “What the hell was that?” I demanded. “There’s something seriously wrong with that woman! I don’t need her advice. Who the hell does she think she is?”
He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “June means well. We’ll talk more about this when I get back.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, my chest tightening.
Since learning of what Henry and I had experienced at Dawes House, Whit hadn’t left us alone any more than absolutely necessary.
We were still discussing moving to another property, weighing pros and cons for Henry, so I knew we wouldn’t be at Dawes House forever.
But I still felt better when he was there with us.
“I need to go out of town for a couple of days on business,” he said. “I won’t be gone too long. Will you be okay?”
I nodded. “When do you leave?”
“Tonight, I’m afraid.” My eyes must’ve given away my disappointment. He took my hands in his and kissed them. “But it doesn’t need to be right now.”
After Henry was asleep, Whit followed me to my bed, made love to me, slowly, tenderly. Then he held me until I was asleep. I didn’t feel him get out of bed; just the absence of the warmth and peace I’d already grown used to.
I tossed and turned, unable to sleep soundly, too many thoughts cycling through my brain on a continuous loop.
Finally, realizing sleep was too illusive, I threw off the covers and checked on Henry, relieved to find he was sleeping peacefully and that none of the intruders had decided to torment him.
Still feeling uneasy, a nagging dread making it impossible for me to do much more than wander around the apartment, I went to the living room window and peered out into the darkness. I glanced at the time on my phone.
3 a.m.
The Devil’s hour.
“Well, here we are again,” I muttered, turning my attention back to the window.
There was no activity on the street, even the most hardcore bar hoppers had gone home.
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold. I could sense an intruder nearby, but it was only a faint tickle as the hair on the back of my neck reacted to the sudden influx of energy in the room. I scanned the living room, searching for even a misty haze that would give away who was visiting.
“Fine,” I sighed. “Don’t tell me who you are. But maybe stop the arctic blast, okay?”
I turned back to the window, wishing Whit had waited until daylight to leave, when movement in the courtyard caught my attention.
I frowned, squinting to make out who it was.
The night was moonless and darker than usual.
The streetlights cast a muddy light, giving off a jaundiced glow that obscured the identities of the three people I saw walking toward the carriage house.
It wasn’t until they reached the front door that the porch light revealed who it was.
Chase and Merilee ushered a third person up the stairs.
The unknown woman was dressed in a hot pink sequined miniskirt, black stiletto thigh boots, and a sheer black tank top.
Her bleached blond hair had pink streaks that matched her skirt.
Chase motioned the woman in with a flourish of his arm, his typical roguish smile making her drop her gaze like she was embarrassed and flattered by whatever he’d said.
Merilee stepped forward to follow them inside, but stopped, hand on the doorframe, and looked over her shoulder, her eyes lifting to the window where I stood as if she knew I was there.
And she waggled her fingers at me, waving to let me know she saw me, and gave me a sly, taunting grin.
I darted away from the window, my heart pounding at being found out. But found out doing what? Just looking out my window in the middle of the night? Why would that make me feel guilty like I had to hide?
Chastising myself for being ridiculous—Chase and Merilee’s sex life wasn’t any of my business, after all—I stepped back to the window. But they were gone, the door to the carriage house closed behind them.
The light from dozens of candles bathed the room in soft light creating shadows that danced eerily on the walls.
I glanced around, not sure where I was. It looked like a farmhouse, maybe, the furniture and décor rustic, something from the previous century or even older.
Bundles of herbs and other plants hung drying from the ceiling like those I’d seen in June’s apartment.
In the stone hearth hung a black cauldron, the simmering contents releasing a thick, intoxicating aroma that made my limbs feel too light, my head spin, my vision hazy and distorted.
As my eyes rolled, trying to make sense of what was happening, I realized I was lying on a table, my arm hanging off one side, something warm and sticky running down my forearm to my palm, dripping from my fingertips. Despite the fire blazing in the fireplace, I grew colder by the minute.
It was then I heard the maniacal laughter near me.
I turned my head, trying to see where it was coming from.
Chase and Merilee knelt beside the table, cupping their hands to gather what I realized was my blood, then smeared it over one another’s faces, shoulders, arms, bare chests, abdomens in slow, sensual motions, clearly aroused.
I rolled my head away, coughing and sputtering as blood filled my throat. I choked and tried to sit up but lacked the strength.
Chase and Merilee’s faces loomed over me, grinning broadly, laughing. Merilee wiped blood from my neck and held it up for Chase to see.
“We have a bleeder, baby,” Chase told her. “Look at that. And still hangin’ in there.”
Chase grasped her hand with a groan of need and licked her skin from wrist to fingertips, then took her fingers into his mouth, sucking the blood from them, leaning his head back with a gasp of satisfaction. Then he grasped her by the back of her neck and kissed her savagely.