Avery took a breath. The muscles in her arms were aching, and she realized she was gripping the pillow. She let go.
“The next day a beaker of sulfuric acid was missing from the chemistry lab. After school, Jilly got Heather alone, but Carrie saw her take her arm and lead her down the street. Jilly told Heather that she’d better not show up for homecoming weekend or she’d be sorry. Heather was a sweet girl, and she was going through a terrible time. Her mother had died two weeks before of an aneurysm, and the poor girl was still reeling from the shock. When Jilly got through tormenting her, Heather locked herself in her bedroom, but her father finally got her to tell him what was wrong. He said that Jilly had admitted stealing the acid. She threatened to wait for Heather one day after school when she was all alone in her house and throw the acid in her face.”
“Good God.”
Avery nodded. “What Carrie wrote wasn’t hearsay. She talked to Heather.”
“What did Heather’s father do?”
“He went to the principal the next morning and demanded that Jilly be expelled. He also went to the police.”
“And what did they do?”
“Nothing,” she said. “The chief of police was a close friend of my grandmother’s, and he wasn’t going to do anything that would upset her. Besides, it was one girl’s word against the other’s. Jilly, of course, denied the incident. My grandmother and Jilly were called into the principal’s office that afternoon. Grandmother made Carrie go with them.”
“Was Jilly expelled?”
“No,” she said, scoffing at the notion. “Did I mention that the principal was a man? His name was Mr. Bennett, and he was a very unhappily married man. His wife was a cold woman and very difficult to get along with, or so Carrie wrote.”
“What happened?” John Paul asked, bringing her back to the story.
“Carrie watched Jilly seduce Bennett. Jilly became hysterical. Lots of tears flowing, but it was all a calculated act. The principal rushed over to the sofa where Jilly was and sat down beside her. He put his arm around her to comfort her, but it was Jilly’s body language that . . . fascinated Carrie . . . and Bennett’s reaction.”
She shook her head. “Have you ever seen a woman move like a cat? Carrie said Jilly was like that. When Bennett put his arm around her, she rubbed up against him in an obscene way.”
“What did your grandmother do?”
“She was as clueless as ever, according to Carrie. She’d gone out to the front desk to get Jilly a glass of water, but even if she had stayed, she wouldn’t have noticed anything because she didn’t want to notice. Carrie wrote that Jilly was clinging to Bennett while she cried. She had her head on his shoulder, but she looked up at Carrie, who was standing behind the principal, and Jilly had this Cheshire cat smile on her face. When it was over, Bennett threatened to suspend Heather for making up the lie.”
“Jeez.”
“Like I said, Jilly had a way with men. Some of them became obsessed with her. They would call at all hours of the day and night. Every once in a while, Carrie would sneak upstairs into Grandmother Lola’s bedroom and listen in on the extension. She wrote that the men cried and pleaded, and after Jilly hung up, she could hear her laughing. Oh, how she loved the power she had. She loved manipulating, and she used sex to get what she wanted. Her specialty was destroying married men. I’ll bet you can guess who one of those men was,” she said.
“Bennett.”
“Yes.”
“My God,” he said. “And all this was going on while she was in high school?” Before Avery could answer, he asked, “What happened to Heather?”
“She didn’t go to homecoming, and Jilly was crowned queen, but that wasn’t enough for Jilly. Heather had upset her, and so she had to be punished. Jilly tormented her. A month passed, and just as Heather was beginning to think Jilly had moved on, she came home from school one day and went up to her room. She had this old teddy bear she kept on her bed. Someone had poured acid all over it. That someone, of course, was Jilly.”
John Paul rubbed his jaw and waited until Avery continued.
“Carrie heard about it at school the next day. She went to see Heather’s father. He had to stay home with his daughter because she was so distraught, and Carrie told him Jilly wouldn’t stop going after Heather and that he needed to get his daughter out of town and not tell anyone where she had gone. Heather was close to a nervous breakdown. She was seeing a therapist,” she explained. “And the therapist thought it would be good for Heather to get away from Sheldon Beach. She left during Christmas vacation and didn’t come back.”
“Did it ever end?”
“Oh, no,” she said. “Heather’s father filed another report with the police two months later. He said that someone was stealing his mail. One Saturday afternoon, he happened to look outside and saw Jilly opening his mailbox. She was looking for letters from Heather so she could find out where she was.”
“She doesn’t give up, does she?”
“No, she doesn’t. She never had sex with any of the boys in her high school. All her friends believed she was sweet and wholesome. Carrie heard a couple of rumors about Jilly, but not from anyone at school. Heather was the one who was ostracized, not Jilly. She was that good at being bad.”
She stood and stretched her arms above her head. “Do you want something to drink?”
After the story she’d just told him, hard liquor sounded good to him, but he settled on a Diet Coke instead. She got herself a bottle of Evian water and handed him his soda.
He opened the can, took a swig, and asked, “Did your grandparents try to get her some help when she was little, or did they know then that something was wrong with her?”
“Grandfather left when Carrie and Jilly were little girls, and Grandmother Lola lived in what Carrie called a fantasyland. She had an excuse for every atrocity Jilly committed.”
“When did Jilly get pregnant with you?” he asked.
“Her senior year. Carrie thought her pregnancy saved Heather because Jilly had other things to think about. Jilly tried to get an abortion, but the doctor wouldn’t do it because she was too far along. She gave birth and left town three days later. And that was the last entry in the diary,” she added.
“Leaving me behind was the last straw for Grandmother. She dragged all of Jilly’s things out to the curb for the trash collector. When she was packing up her things from the closet, she found a shoe box full of mail from Heather’s house, and guess what else she found?”
“The acid.”
Avery nodded. “The beaker was only half full, but it would have been more than enough to kill Heather. I think Jilly didn’t forget about that girl. I think she was biding her time.”
A clap of thunder jarred her. She flinched in reaction, then got up and walked to the window to look out. Dark angry clouds loomed overhead. Lightning sliced across the sky, and then there was another booming blast of thunder.
She didn’t turn around as she said, “Carrie didn’t think Jilly was very smart. She used her body to get what she wanted. She’s obviously become more devious and clever over the years. Carrie said there wasn’t a man alive who was immune to her charms.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Skarrett obviously became obsessed with her, and look where he ended up. When I was five years old, Jilly and Skarrett came to the house. Jilly told Grandmother she had to pay to keep me. Fortunately, Carrie was home. She told Jilly she didn’t have any legal rights to me and pushed her out the door. It was a horrible fight, but Skarrett kept his distance . . . then. Jilly kept screaming, ‘You’re dead, Carrie. You’re dead.’ ”
“Where were you while all this was going on?”
She turned around and looked at him. “I don’t remember any of it, but Carrie told me she found me hiding under my bed. After they left, Carrie promised me they would never come back.”
She took a gulp of her water, put the lid back on, and stared down at her hand. There was a deep indentation
in her palm from where she’d been gripping the bottle cap.
“But they did come back, didn’t they?”
“Yes.”
He watched her closely as she closed her eyes and told him what had happened on February fourteenth, all those years ago.
When she was finished, she said, “Skarrett’s her puppet. And I think she’s got Monk doing her bidding now too. She’s playing both of them to get what she wants.”
She put the bottle down on the table and took a step toward John Paul. “So now you know.”
“Now I know . . .”
“So?” she demanded. “Tell me what you think.”
He shrugged. “I think you’re right. Jilly is a maniac.”
She threaded her fingers through her hair and took another step toward him. “No, that’s not what I was asking.”
“Then what?”
She stopped a foot away from him. “Aren’t you sorry?”
He felt as if he were playing twenty questions. In exasperation, he asked, “Sorry about what?”
“Getting involved with me. It’s a temporary situation, but even so . . .”
“Hell, no.”
She stepped back. “John Paul, you’ve got to be a little repulsed . . .”
“Afraid not.”
She glared at him. “Why not? I don’t come from a normal family. Genetically speaking, I’m a mess.”
“Sugar, no need to be so melodramatic and no need to shout at me either. I can hear just fine.”
“How can you smile after what you just heard? How can you—”
“Avery, you didn’t do any of those things. Jilly did.”
He thought he was being extremely logical, but she wasn’t the least bit interested in being reasonable. “Now do you understand why I won’t ever get married?”
Before she could take another step away from him, he reached for her. He put his hands on her hips and slowly pulled her toward him.
“No, I don’t understand.”
She tried to push his hands away, but they were cemented to her body.
“You’re going to have to explain it to me. Are you afraid you’ll sneeze and turn into a sociopath?”
“No, of course not, but I can’t have children, and even if I could . . .”
“I know,” he said softly. “You wouldn’t risk it.”
“Men want children.”
She stood between his knees, frowning at him while she shifted from foot to foot.
“Some do,” he agreed. “Some don’t.”
“Do you?”
He wasn’t going to lie to her. “I always figured I’d settle down one day and have a couple of kids. I still might,” he said. “But, Avery, there are a lot of children out there who need good homes.”
“Do you think after doing a background check on my family that I would ever qualify?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I won’t get married.”
The defiance was back in her voice. She was trying to hide her vulnerability, but it wasn’t working. He knew she was hurting inside.
“Did I ask you to marry me?”
“No.”
“Okay, then. I think we’ve had enough heavy talk for a little while. And I also think you need to lighten up a little.”
It occurred to her that he was behaving the same way he had when she’d shown him her back. The scars hadn’t seemed to faze him. Obviously, neither did the stories she’d told him about Jilly.
What the hell was the matter with him?
“You need to relax,” he told her. He worked her blouse up over her navel and leaned forward to kiss her stomach.
“That’s what yoga is for. It helps me relax.”
“I’ve found a better way to unwind.”
He unbuttoned her shorts and reached for the zipper. She grabbed his hand.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His smile made her heart race. Her hand dropped to her side, and she watched him unzip her shorts. As they fell to the floor, he finally answered her.
“It’s simple, sugar. I’m going to my happy place.”
Chapter 32
SECRETS WERE BEST SHARED IN THE BEDROOM. THEY MADE love, and after he had kissed and caressed every inch of her beautiful body, she was exhausted.
“I told you I’d get around to your back,” he said as he rolled away from her.
She laughed because he’d sounded so smug. Still breathless from their lovemaking, she whispered, “You’re insatiable.”
He grinned arrogantly. “With you I am.”
It was a lovely thing to say, almost a compliment, she thought. “Move over,” she told him. “I’m falling off the bed.”
The double bed didn’t give him anyplace to go. “We’re gonna need to buy a king-size bed.”
Her mood changed as swiftly as the wind. “Why?” she asked tensely.
“Because I’m too big for a double bed,” he answered. “My feet hang over. What’s the big deal about a king-size bed?”
“We both know we can’t have any kind of a lasting relationship.”
“Did I ask?”
“No, but you implied . . .”
“Sugar, you worry too much.”
She silently agreed. Of course, she worried . . . about everything. But what terrified her more than anything was ruining things. Admitting to herself that she loved John Paul had already put her in a mild panic. What was going to happen when they parted? Would she ever recover?
“I don’t believe in marriage. Look what it does to some people.”
“What people?”
“People like the Parnells . . .”
“Sugar, those aren’t what you’d call typical people.”
“What about the divorce rate?”
“What about couples who have stayed together?”
“I’d ruin things,” she blurted out.
When he didn’t respond, she propped herself up with her elbow, leaned over him, and waited. Had he fallen asleep?
“Did you hear what I just said?”
He was wearing an adorable smile and nothing else. He oozed self-confidence, probably because he didn’t give a hoot what anyone else thought. She’d lived her life trying to please everyone. He was the complete antithesis. He didn’t want to please anyone.
“You don’t have much faith in yourself, do you? It’s okay,” he added before she could answer. “I’ve got enough for both of us.”
She put her hand on his flat, hard stomach and circled his navel with her fingertips. He made everything sound so easy.
She couldn’t stop touching him. She could almost see the strength radiating from his muscles, but she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by him. When she was in his arms, she didn’t feel overwhelmed or diminished. On the contrary, he made her feel powerful. It was the most incredible sensation, not worrying about pleasing him, just knowing that whatever she did was all right, being that free, that liberated. Her trust in him was absolute, and she realized what a wonderful gift he’d given her.
“John Paul?”
“Ummm?”
“Are you sleeping?”
“A little.”
“I want . . .”
“Okay, sweetheart. Just give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll be able—”
Her body was still tingling from the last time. She laughed. “Not that,” she said. “I want you to tell me something.”
He yawned. “You were perfect, Avery, but you’ve got to know—”
She pinched him. “I’m not asking for a review. I want to know why you walked away.”
Before he could deliberately misinterpret, she said, “I’ve told you my secrets, most of them anyway, and now it’s your turn. Why did you retire?”
“It’s boring stuff.”
She pinched him again. “Tell me.”
He opened his eyes and looked at her. The determination he saw told him he wasn’t going to be able to finesse his way out of this one. Besides, he figured he owed her.
&n
bsp; “It wasn’t any one big assignment that went wrong,” he said. “Just a lot of little screwups that made me . . . reevaluate what I wanted out of life. I had a bad problem.”
“What was it?”
“I started thinking too much. I had a lot of time to do that while I waited in hellholes for the next assignment. They were usually generals,” he explained nonchalantly. “Little prick dictators who surrounded themselves with thugs. I didn’t mind killing them, for the greater good,” he added sarcastically. “And I liked going in after hostages. There was justice in that action, but one night, while I was freezing my ass off, I noticed I was getting a callus on my finger. My trigger finger,” he added softly. “That really freaked me out.”
“So what did you do?”
“I finished my assignment, told them I was done, and went home.”
“Was it that easy? Didn’t they try to change your mind?”
“Yes and no,” he answered. “At the time, it was easy because I worked for a good, decent man. He knew I’d had it. I think the way he got around all the red tape was to give me an extended leave.”
“But they’re still trying to get you to come back?”
“Every once in a while,” he agreed. “I won’t, though.” He closed his eyes again and said, “I did some badass things, Avery.”
“I would imagine so,” she whispered. “And you didn’t believe that what you were doing made any difference, did you?”