Worry and an inkling of fear slowly took hold as she quickly finished her shower, determined to get answers, her eyes now wide open and focused enough to note small bruises on her breasts and the insides of her thighs as she dried off. Fear now took precedence over worry. Grabbing a pair of comfortable gym shorts and tee shirt, her daily attire in the summer, she started to reach for her phone on the bed stand when the sound of male voices carried upstairs. The second floor of her cabin was an open loft and the only door up here was on the bathroom, where she headed after grabbing her phone. The distinct sound of Brody’s name followed by a voice she recognized as his had her swiftly switching gears, her steps taking her to the railing that overlooked the great room below, her temper spiking just as fast when she spotted him in her kitchen searching out pans and food as if he owned the place. Despite her soreness, she flew downstairs to confront the son of a bitch she had naively fallen for and had never managed to forget.
Ignoring the presence of the other man who looked familiar, her bare feet not making a sound even though she stomped across the room, she fisted her hands on her hips and demanded angrily, “Brody Pearce, what the fuck are you doing in my house?”
Brody turned, staring in surprise at Piper who stood glaring at him out of black fringed, snapping green eyes, their color no longer hidden by dilated pupils, her face pale with the exception of twin splotches of color on her cheekbones. Her damp, black hair fell in disarray to her shoulders, the inky color emphasizing her paleness. From her outburst and the look of confused mistrust she was aiming at him, it was obvious she didn’t remember last night.
Brody set the pan he was holding down and moved towards her, his arms extended to embrace her, but she quickly sidestepped him. “Piper, why don’t you sit down, I’ll fix us something to eat and we’ll talk.”
“Why don’t you keep your hands to yourself, talk then leave.” She didn’t know who she was more pissed at, him for unexpectedly showing back up in her life, or her for her reaction to seeing him again, a reaction that was just as strong, if not stronger than when she had been a gullible college kid and had allowed her infatuation to blind her to so much.
“That’s not what you were saying last night,” Ian said as he leaned against the counter, folded his arms across his chest and prepared for the fireworks he saw brewing between the two. Suddenly this gig looked like it could be quite entertaining.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Piper took the time to look more closely at the other man and finally remembered where she had seen him before. He was Brody’s FBI partner, the other man who had been in her father’s employ under false pretenses, pretenses she had wondered had anything to do with his death.
“You couldn’t be a little more subtle? It’s obvious she doesn’t remember what happened last night.” Brody glared at his friend before turning his attention back to Piper who was now watching both of them in confused irritation. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Getting more confused by the minute, Piper frowned as she thought back, but, other than the barely there images of her erotic dream, the last thing she could recall with any clarity was having a beer with Haley yesterday. “I had dinner with my friend, Haley, last night. We ate at the diner and then went to Crack’s place for a beer. It was dark by the time I was ready to head back here, so he offered to give me a ride. But…. I don’t remember getting back home. Why? What’s happened?”
“Piper,” Brody said gently, hating to add to her confusion and the growing trepidation he saw on her face, “that was three days ago. Today is Friday.”
This time Piper did sit, practically falling onto one of the stools at the counter. “How can that be?” she whispered in confusion as the thought of those missing days upset her more than seeing Brody again did. She didn’t stay seated long as another thought occurred to her. “I have to call Haley, she’s going to be frantic. I was supposed to have some designs to her on Wednesday.”
“Sit back down,” Brody snapped, then realized quickly that wasn’t the way to handle her. The Piper he knew all those years ago would have obeyed him immediately and then looked at him out of adoring eyes. The changes in her, he was discovering, weren’t all physical and she glared at him with a look that said plain and clear, ‘fuck off’.
“I don’t know what you’re doing here, either of you,” she added with a scathing glance towards Ian’s slouching figure and smirking face, “but I need to get hold of Haley now.”
“She’s the one who reported you missing to Sheriff Norton, who called us. When we arrived yesterday afternoon, you were here, in your bed, relatively safe. We let them know, so now the only question remains is where were you for two and a half days.”
Relieved that Haley wasn’t worrying herself sick over her disappearance, Piper sat back down, but not because Brody ordered her to. Frankly, she was shaking so hard from the inside out she didn’t want to risk falling in a heap at his feet. She might be tempted to stay there, especially if she was face level, or rather mouth level with his crotch. Unbelievable, she thought as she simply shut her eyes against the image of her going down on him right here in her kitchen, and when she factored in Ian’s presence, it was even more disconcerting to discover her simmering arousal ratcheting up. There had to be something seriously wrong with her to want him so much, after all this time, after learning of his betrayal of Charles and after she had forged a whole new life for herself far away from what happened in Atlantic City. But her response couldn’t be denied, it pulsed strongly between her legs, the lingering ache and soreness only fueling the fire stewing.
“Why would Gary call you?” she finally asked after she managed to delegate her lust to the back burner, at least for now. Looking him square in the eye, she questioned coolly, “How is he aware of our connection? Because I sure as hell didn’t tell him.”
Brody looked at Ian who simply shrugged. If he knew him, and he did, Ian would tell him to come clean now, and Brody would have to agree. Piper needed answers, and so did they. “We, the FBI, asked him to keep an eye on you, at first to make sure your identity was still a secret from the man who had hired the assassin that night and second to let us know if Charles showed up. I’m sure you know he hasn’t been seen since that night.”
“Charles is dead,” Piper returned flatly before shutting off any thoughts of the man she had thought of, and loved, as a father.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Ian said, making sure she got the whole picture. Brody had a soft spot for the woman, always had. He had thought he had gotten over it, but Brody’s reaction to her disappearance and since said otherwise. Poor sap, Ian thought cynically. “Without a body, there’s no proof.”
“I don’t need a body. There’s no way Charles would go this long without getting in touch with me, without at least finding a way to let me know he was still alive. I know what you, the FBI think, that he was working for some drug lord, but you’re wrong, you couldn’t be more wrong. Now, I don’t want to talk about him, or what you think he did or didn’t do. I want you gone.” Her demand would have been more convincing if it hadn’t come out in a desperate plea, because the truth was, those lost days had her scared, and them being here was the only thing keeping her from freaking out.
Brody heard the underlying panic in her voice, saw it on her face, and had to admire her bravado despite it. Didn’t mean he was going to leave, he thought, just that he admired her gumption in the face of adversity, something she had been lacking when dealing with Charles.
“Have you considered that your disappearance might have been a ruse to draw him out, get him to show his face again, so his enemy can take him out for sure?” he asked her.
“Then he wasted his time, didn’t he, because the only one to ride to my rescue was you, and, as you can see, I don’t need rescuing. Like I said, Charles is dead.” Piper hopped off the stool and strode over to the refrigerator, jerking it open. Shoving aside misplaced lust, worry, fear and uncertainty, she was going to pick up where she left off a few days ago as if nothing happened. “I feel like I haven’t eaten in days, hell, maybe I haven’t,” she mumbled as she started to pull out eggs, vegetables and cheese.
Setting her ingredients on the counter next to where Brody was still standing, she looked up into grey eyes watching her intensely and felt the instant response of her body, the painful stiffening of her nipples, the soothing gush of moisture from her pussy, and cursed herself for every kind of fool. “I’m fixing omelets. Do you want one?”
“Hell yes,” Ian said quickly. “After raiding your refrigerator, I don’t need to ask if we’re having bacon or sausage with it.”
“No, you don’t. The only meat I eat is the fish I catch myself. Deal with it. Afterwards, you’re going to tell me what happened last night. Now, get out of my kitchen until I call you.”
“So, who’s Crack?” Brody asked around a mouthful of the best omelet he’d ever had. Watching her whip brown eggs that she assured them were healthier for you then filling them with fresh spinach, feta and onions, they had both had their doubts about the concoction, but the first bite had both he and Ian groaning in satisfaction.
“An ex biker gang member who owns Rowdy’s, the only bar in town. It’s a favorite hangout and Crack lends a good ear when I need one.” If Piper had been open to anyone filling the void Charles’s absence had left in her life, Crack would have been more than willing. Somewhere in his early sixties, even though his hard life made him look older, he was old enough and over protective enough to be her father. Nobody crossed him, and nobody harassed, insulted or threatened his girls, as he often called her and Haley, without consequences. As much as she appreciated his kind, gruff manor, her determination to maintain the independence she had worked so hard to achieve didn’t allow for her to rely on anyone for anything other than friendship. She had learned the hard way not to let her feelings and emotions blind her to reality again.
“If that’s your jeep out front, how’d it get here if he brought you back from town?” Ian asked as he slathered butter on a piece of toast made from homemade bread then simply closed his eyes in appreciation as he bit into it.
Piper rose from the counter where she had sat between the two of them, very vague images of being sandwiched between them in her bed causing her to sit uncomfortably in damp panties. She didn’t care for the questions or these hazy thoughts that had her wondering if they were really remnants of a dream. “I only take the jeep when I need to go into Branson. Otherwise, I walk everywhere.” Putting her plate in the sink, she turned to face them in time to see surprise at her statement reflected on both their faces. “What?”