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into her, trying for the kiss, but Chan refused, her way of taking control.
She blazed a hot trail of kisses down Sarah s neck, devouring her scent,
her skin, eliciting small cries of pleasure from Sarah.
Relishing the response, Chan traced their intertwined fingers
down the firm skin of Sarah s chest to her satin-covered breasts. Her
desire got the better of her, beating back her patience, and she pinched
through the material, kneading the nipples. Sarah stiffened beneath her
and Chan groaned, caught up in her own desire.
She looked to Sarah for another kiss, but froze as she saw a look
of fright on her face. Panicked, she asked, You okay? and watched
helplessly as the arousal that brushed Sarah s cheeks vanished, leaving
in its place a pale fear.
Sarah seemed to stare right through her, lost in another, obviously
very dark place.
Sarah? What is it? Chan knew and she was afraid to ask, but
she had to. She reached out to trace her jawline, but Sarah flinched and
grabbed her hand, stopping her.
I need to go. The words were cold and firm, mirroring her
look.
Chan crawled from her at once and got to her feet alongside her as
Sarah stood up and shoved her arms back into her shirt.
What s wrong? Chan s panic receded as a new feeling overcame
her. Fear. Fear of the pain in Sarah s eyes. Fear that she had caused it.
I thought it was feeling good.
It was.
Then what is it? Chan looked at her with pleading eyes, hating
how desperate she was suddenly feeling and sounding.
Sarah walked briskly to the front door, where she paused. She
turned and looked at Chandler, who was nude and hugging herself
against the chill that had washed into the room.
It stopped, Sarah said.
What stopped?
The good feelings.
Chan s mind flew. She was feeling good as long as we were doing
it together. And as long as she was touching me. Of course. As soon as
that stopped, something dark overcame her. The focus solely on her was
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too much.
Desperate to get her to stay, Chan said, I understand. She tried
reaching out to touch her, but Sarah dodged her hand and grabbed the
doorknob. Chan spoke again, pleading. Wait, please. I know
No, Sarah said flatly. You don t understand.
I do, Sarah. More than you know. Chan saw the pain in her eyes,
and her voice hitched with emotion. It doesn t have to be like this. I
can help make it go away. She saw the demons clouding Sarah s eyes,
and she wanted desperately to fight them head-on, to force them from
Sarah s life. But she wasn t going to get the chance.
I m sorry, Sarah said. But it doesn t ever go away. She opened
the door and stepped out into the black of night a place where her
own darkness, it seemed, seeped out and melded into it, making her
right at home.
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
t doesn t ever go away. Sarah jogged to her truck, needing to
Iescape, needing to flee. Her wall was crumbling fast and her
breath shook in her throat as she started the vehicle and caught one last
glimpse of Chandler standing at her front door, hugging her creamy
breasts, watching her leave with anguish on her beautiful face.
God damn it. She threw the truck into gear and peeled away as
fast as she could. Her body trembled as her mind raced. Chandler had
gotten in. Somehow, the woman had penetrated through her lifelong
barriers, threatening everything she knew, everything she was. It wasn t
supposed to ever happen. She should have never let her touch her. But
dear God, it had felt so good. Chandler made her feel alive.
No. It was a mistake. She was just shaken up right now. More
vulnerable than usual. That was all. She would push Chandler from her
mind and go on with her life. Get things back to normal. She would go
to work for the FBI, exercise, and refocus. And everything would be
fine. Sarah met her own eyes in the rearview mirror.
Normal. She hastily wiped away a pooling tear and forced back
her pain, shoving it down her raw esophagus and into her chest, where
it shook with every breath. The faces of her past entered her mind,
reminding her that she had never known what normal was, no matter
how hard she tried to pretend.
Clenching her steering wheel, she sped up, anxious to get home,
needing to go faster. Her thoughts drifted to what she soon would have
to face, causing panic and fear to rocket through her. Could she do this?
Swallowing back the biting tears, she willed herself to be okay. She
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was grown now and nothing could hurt her. And yet he was. He was
hurting her right now. Everything was. Ever since the phone call she
had received weeks before.
She hadn t spoken to her parents at great length for almost ten
years. So it was quite a shock in itself when she answered and heard her
mother s voice on the other end of the line. The older woman sounded
weak, beaten.
Roy is sick, she had said. He s dying. It s cancer.
When she heard those few words, Sarah s life had suddenly
whirled into a tailspin. Feelings she had forced down deep years ago
came screaming back up to the surface. Her childhood, her parents,
Scottie. They all resurfaced and bobbed in the wake of her mind,
unsinking and unrelenting.
Your father wants to see you. He doesn t have much longer. But
Sarah couldn t bring herself to go, finding numerous reasons to put it
off. But it wasn t going away. Even if he died, her past would still be
there. Waiting for her to face it.
She grunted with anger and hardened her body as she flew down
the road.
Once home, she slammed her truck door shut and stormed up the
stairs to her apartment. Her hand trembled as she tried to insert the key.
She stopped herself and straightened, taking in a deep breath. She tried
to convince herself that she wasn t falling apart, that she was home now
and everything was in her control.
Steady enough to unlock her door, she pushed her way inside and
secured the entryway behind her. She stood in the dark, in no mood for
the light. Her heart hammered loudly in her ears as her eyes adjusted
to the lack of light. Her keys clanked against the countertop as she
navigated with ease to the fridge, where she gulped at some bottled
water. She was so damn thirsty, but its chill was not near strong enough
to rid her guts of the churning and burning.
As the water stung its way down, she concentrated on her breathing.
Out of the corner of her eye, a blinking red light got her attention.
She bent and pressed the play button on her answering machine. Her
mother s voice once again spoke to her, slamming all that she was
running from right into her face.
Sarah, it s me. Long, shaky sigh. It s any time now. Please
come soon. A soft click ended the recording.
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Sarah set down her water bottle and leaned on the counter with
one hand. She suddenly felt dizzy with emotion. Mechanically she
raised her other hand to wipe away water from her mouth. She paused,
though, as a scent caught her attention.
Chandler. Yes, just think about Chandler. Nothing else.
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