Chapter 36 #2
He looks at me, his eyes still lacking their usual warmth, but the hostility has cooled by several degrees. “You were good with her. Don’t make me regret it.”
“I won’t. I promise you I’m on her side.”
He doesn’t say anything. For a moment, we both just stand there. Our eyes meet. I can usually read him. Now I haven’t a clue.
“Chaz—”
“Not now,” he stops me, his voice low and rough around the edges.
I swallow all the things I want to say, holding back the tears that would be unfair to burden him with. “Call if you need anything. I’ll be at the cottage.”
He nods and holds the door open for me.
As I step into the cold night air, I glance back at him. I see it then. His expression is conflicted, a flicker of something unresolved warring inside him. It gives me the smallest ounce of hope as he watches me get into my car before he closes the door.
I’m wound up, my mind going a mile a minute.
Everything that happened this evening plays on a loop in my head.
I can’t do anything about Chaz right now, but I can do my best for his sister.
I sit at the kitchen counter and open my laptop, typing out every detail she shared.
I cross-reference her story with the anonymous employee’s account, and the descriptions match perfectly—almost too perfectly.
The only difference is the reference to drugs that Sophia said she didn’t see.
But everything else lines up. “He led a young woman of around twenty-two upstairs. They were gone for ten or fifteen minutes, and when the woman reappeared, she was frazzled. Mascara streaked her cheeks. One of Mr. Marshall’s employees stopped her and seemed to threaten her.
I can confirm that Mr. Marshall lured the woman under the pretense of a business matter, but he was really attempting to exchange sexual favors for job-related promises. ”
The timing of the complaint and the carefully scripted account give Sophia’s story credibility.
But she didn’t have the presence of mind to write this.
Was it Chaz? No way. An anonymous letter isn’t his style.
In any case, a nameless complaint isn’t evidence.
I need more to corroborate Sophia’s accounts.
How far back does Marshall’s harassment go, and how many people are involved in protecting and enabling him? Was my father one of them?
Theodore was many things, but the idea of him actively participating in the abuse of women doesn’t fit.
He probably wouldn’t care if he knew about Marshall’s activities.
However, I have to believe that he wouldn’t protect him if he saw Marshall as a liability to Townsen Industries.
My father is the kind of man who would cut you loose in the middle of an ocean with no life vest if you were dragging him down.
He’s ruthless, and for once, I’m counting on it.
Around midnight, I close my laptop and slip on a cotton T-shirt and flannel bottoms. I crawl under my heated blanket, seeking comfort from the day, and set the timer for an hour so I don’t overheat.
At some point, I drift off, only to stir awake a short time later by a soft knock on my bedroom door.
I know it’s Chaz. He’s the only one with a key.
And on some level, I’ve been expecting him.
Sliding out of bed, I pad across the room, my pulse picking up as I reach for the knob.
When I open the door, he’s standing there—softly illuminated by the streetlight glow slipping through the curtains.
He looks worn, drained, with his shoulders slumped.
The usual spark in his eyes is dimmed, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.
“I woke you,” he says, voice rough with exhaustion.
“It’s okay.” I step back, silently inviting him in.
He hesitates, dragging a hand down his face. “I tried knocking on the front door, but you didn’t answer. I should have left, but I couldn’t,” he says like he’s still half in his own head, debating if he should be here.
I swallow past the tightness in my throat. “Is Sophia—”
“She’s okay. Sleeping.”
“And you couldn’t?”
His exhale is heavy. “I tried. I tried shutting it all off, but I’m so fucked up.” His gaze moves over me in the semi-darkness. “And the craziest thing is that all I could think about—all I wanted—was you.”
Everything in me splinters. I reach for him. “I’m here.”
The next breath, he’s in my arms. Solid, warm, pressing against me as I hold him tight. He smells like soap and Chaz. My fingers clutch at the fabric of his T-shirt, trembling as I stroke his back.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, my whole being aching for him. I kiss his jaw, the column of his throat, every place my lips can reach, squeezing him tight. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Shh.” His breath is hot against my ear. “I just need you,” he rasps.
And then we’re on the bed. His hands explore my sides from rib to waist, restless and urgent.
“Christ, I missed you.” His mouth crashes down on mine.
The kiss is deep and ravenous—a pulsating collision of passion and need.
His hands go to the back of my thighs, gripping, spreading my legs wider.
He rocks against me, the hard ridge of his erection pressing into the seam of my pajama bottoms, feeding me his desperate breaths and groans.
I swallow them all as his hips flex, exploiting the friction and driving me wild.
Each skillful grind spikes the ever-simmering lust I have for him.
He doesn’t even need to be inside me to push my body into a frenzy, but I want it.
God, I want him to make love to me. I yearn for that ultimate connection.
But our first time shouldn’t have any emotional barriers between us.
It should be a merger of not just our bodies but our hearts in a celebration of love, commitment, and truth.
Then he’s moving down my torso and lower, dragging my bottoms off. His greedy tongue, quick and hot between my legs, licking and taking me higher and higher until I fly over the edge.
No words are spoken; it all happens hurried and desperate.
I’m pulling him out, hard and thick, taking him deep in my mouth, hearing his groans, feeling his tight grip on my hair.
He maneuvers us somehow, getting his mouth back on me, his fingers in me.
We’re thrusting and sucking and groaning.
It’s wet and messy. Our noises fill the room.
He’s driving his tongue in and out of me, circling my clit with his fingers, and then I’m coming, moaning in ecstatic pleasure as he shudders and curses and fills my mouth with his release.