Deliver Her from Evil Page 3

  “We are good. Liv is in the playroom coloring. We just got home not too long ago from grocery shopping, so we are running a little behind.”

  “Dinner in like an hour then?” he asks.

  “I’m making shrimp scampi, so it will be more like thirty minutes. I just need time for the noodles to soften.”

  He smiles, grabs a bag with presents no doubt, and leaves the kitchen in search of Olivia. When I hear squeals and laughter, my gift suspicions are confirmed.

  “You’re quiet tonight; did you have a rough day?” Jack asks as he breaks apart a piece of buttery French bread and shoves it into his lying mouth.

  Am I quiet? You bet. I’ve only said a few words and they have mainly been directed at Olivia. I don’t really have anything I want to say to Jack. No, I take that back. I have a lot to say to Jack; I’m just not ready to say it. If he really did go behind my back and have this procedure done without discussing it with me, I haven’t figured out how to process that.

  “Just busy, that’s all,” I lie. “I put some calls into some adoption agencies and to the county’s child services department.” I add just as he puts another mouthful in. I made no such calls, but I want to see his reaction. His choking on a messy swirl of noodles and sauce, is the exact reaction I was expecting.

  “I thought we already went over this, babe?” he says once he catches his breath. “We were going to keep things the way they are.”

  “I don’t remember coming to any kind of agreement. I wanted to explore our options a bit more.” I take a slow sip of my white wine and slide the goblet back onto the table. “If you would rather, we can do another round of testing on both of us to give that route another try.”

  His eyes widen slightly, but he recovers quickly. I saw it though. The lie was there in his eyes. I’ve known this man a long time, and while I’ve been pretty blind at times, I’m not this time. I see what my heart couldn’t believe. He’s not the man I married. Whatever else he’s hiding, I don’t know, but at least now I can believe he is keeping me in the dark. What he doesn’t know, though, is I’m going to try like hell to find the light…find the whole truth.

  Campbell

  “Is Carly all right?” Lakin asks as he opens the car door of his Beamer for me. The warm breeze attacks the ruffles on my silky shirt and sends them flapping in the wind. I would usually be annoyed, but my tight, black pencil skirt is almost stifling, so I actually appreciate the breeze, warm or otherwise.

  “It’s not going to be pretty. This has train wreck written all over it,” I answer. We move briskly across the parking lot, my patent leather stilettoes clicking on the pavement. Lakin agreed to attend a show downtown tonight to scout out an up-and-coming band. I have no problem watching these shows alone, but Lakin insisted we hang out, so here he is. While I contended this is merely a friendly evening out, Lakin is hell-bent that at some point I will refer to it as he does…a date.

  “That bad? Like call for Jen-type reinforcements, bad?” He jests, but I know exactly what Jen would do to Jack if my suspicions of him are correct. No one wants assault or harassment or any other buffet of felony charges that Jen would get us. So for now, Jen will be kept in the dark.

  I offer a tight-lipped smile as he opens the door to the bar for me and we are immediately ushered to VIP seating. He orders a drink and I, of course, request my usual, ice water. I say nothing more until the server returns with our drinks and we won’t be interrupted.

  We both take a large gulp of our refreshments. While mine is cold and soothes my thirst, cooling me down from the tight clothes and burning heat outside, Lakin’s provides a sour look that only warm alcohol induces when it burns your throat. No thanks, I’m happy with my water.

  “I think when we uncover what’s really been going on, it’s going to get nasty,” I tell him as we set our glasses back onto the table top. I explain everything Carly told me on the phone, about the doctor’s visit and procedure he has hidden from her, the numerous business trips back east over the last several months, and their argument over having more children. He listens intently, nodding and scowling with each new fact presented. When I finally finish my rundown, he just sits quietly for a second before taking another swig of his scotch.

  “He’s cheating,” he blurts out after his pregnant pause.

  My brows scrunch together, dissatisfied with his revelation. I know he’s probably right, but I also know Carly would struggle to believe in that possibility. What her life would look like without Jack is scary for her. I love her dearly, but her strength comes from her big heart not from some protective outer shell. She’s not a ‘pull her up by her bootstrap’ kind of girl. The big girl panties she wears daily are on because of her faith in her marriage, and if that’s gone, I’m concerned about what a post-Jack life would look like for her. Because of this, it would take something of apocalyptic proportions for Carly to leave him. If Lakin’s suggestion is true, Carly’s world has just ended.

  “Don’t even pretend, Cam that this scenario isn’t what played out in your head, too. He had this procedure done to protect himself from getting Carly or the mistress pregnant. He just got sloppy in his cover-up.”

  “Damn it, Lakin. I know that’s what I thought, but for her sake, I’m hoping like hell it’s not true.”

  “I get it. I really do. But if you’re asking me as a man what the obvious answer is, that’s it.”

  I can feel my pale face flush with anger as my temper flares. Why would cheating for a man be the obvious answer? All men cheat, and somehow that is okay and acceptable? If that’s what Lakin is implying, then I not only call bullshit, but it provides a big piece to the Lakin puzzle as to why I have yet to date him.

  Noticing my disapproval, he immediately backpedals. “I didn’t say all men do that, nor am I suggesting it’s okay. Cheating is never acceptable, Cam. Even I, man-slut of the universe, understand that. However, and this is a big however, if you ask me to call it like I see it, my money would go with him having some pretty little co-worker situated in an apartment in New York.”

  I nod and slide his scotch across the table, bringing it to my lips. It burns instantly and I choke. Lakin immediately stands and moves around the table to sit in the booth next me and begins to pat my back.

  “Yeah, that didn’t make me feel better about this shit situation at all,” I gasp once I finally catch my breath.

  “You really thought it would?” he laughs, handing me my water to calm my throbbing throat.

  “Well, I was out of ideas.” Lakin’s hand hasn’t moved from my back and I become acutely aware of the small circles he’s lightly rubbing up and down my spine.

  It feels surprisingly nice.

  I don’t normally like being touched. I’m not a hugger, but Lakin’s hands on me feel entirely natural…like they always should have been there. I look straight ahead at the stage before us, trying to disregard the feelings sweeping over me.

  “I know a guy we use at the company sometimes when we want to look into the competition. I’ll give him a call and have him tail Jack,” he says reassuringly. “Hopefully, we are looking too much into this, but if not, this guy will find out. Make sure she doesn’t do anything differently until we can get proof one way or the other.”

  My head quickly turns, my eyes meeting his. “You would do that?” I say almost breathlessly.

  He brings his free hand up to my face and lightly feathers the back of his knuckles along my cheekbones. “When are you going to figure out that I would do whatever you need me to?” he says, leaning into me and whispering into my ear. His warm breath on my neck sends chills down my body. The sensation is deliciously foreign.

  Lakin slides his face away from mine, capturing my line of sight and holding my gaze. It feels like my heart is going to pound out of my chest. We both are breathing heavy, our exhaled air tangling in a way that only further heightens my pheromone intoxication when I inhale.

  Just when I think our lips might touch and this tension I’m feelin
g can lessen, the lights dim and the strum of an electric guitar interrupts the dull hum of the socializing patrons. The music of the band we came to see invades my senses, and the connection with Lakin breaks as I scoot away to focus on scouting the band.

  He doesn’t return to his side of the booth, though. Instead, he remains within inches of me. I can feel his body heat and, every few minutes, I slide my eyes in his direction to catch him staring at me.

  It puts me on edge, and I’m not sure what to do with it. Usually, when a band is on the stage, I zone in. I can dismiss everything around me and absorb myself into the notes of the music. Music is my drug of choice. Getting lost in the sound is how I coped with everything growing up, and now it’s something I crave. It allows me a break from feeling, a break from thinking. I don’t have to dwell on the intimate relationships I don’t have or never pursued. I don’t have to think about the family I don’t have.

  But with Lakin in close proximity, I’m distracted. He is distracting. As much as I would like to lean in and allow his arms to wrap around me, I can’t. I refuse to do a committed relationship, and I know if I played with Lakin, we would be playing for keeps.

  He is the brother-in-law of one of my dearest friends, Vivian. Not only do I love her, but I care for her husband, Brooks, just as much. Call it what you will, a hornet’s nest, a dead end, or a massive pile of dog shit waiting to be stepped in. A relationship with Lakin could ruin all of my other personal attachments. And I love my patent leather stilettos too much to step into that shit.

  So, I keep things friendly, or at least I’ve tried to.

  I’m starting to get the feeling Lakin won’t accept the brush off much longer. There is only one way to squash our mutual feelings…pretend like he means nothing to me. I only wish it wouldn’t hurt both of us in the process. Staying true to the plan, I spend the rest of the evening, diverting all of my attention away from Lakin and to the band we came to see.

  Lakin

  Campbell has been friendly but I know she’s avoiding me; she has kept me at a safe distance since the concert, and I’m pissed that I can’t invade past the safe zone. She has been giving me the vibe that if I didn’t have information about Jack, then meeting was unnecessary. I would like nothing more than to prove her wrong though…wiggle my way into her life so she has no choice but to give me the time of day.

  Spending the evening together at Brooks and Vivian’s isn’t exactly what I had in mind though.

  If I weren’t related to these people, I wouldn’t be here. This evening only promises uncomfortable conversation, the yearning for a woman who refuses to take our friendship to another level, and the delivery of news that will turn someone’s world upside down. Damn it all to hell, Brooks better offer the good alcohol.

  I usually enjoy coming to my brother’s house. Vivian is always planning family dinners and, most times, all of Vivian’s girlfriends and I are invited. My time there offers a little taste of family life without the commitment of it. I love my nieces and nephews, but I’m blissfully content with my uncle status. Seeing them isn’t what has me in a sour mood, though.

  No, it’s their other dinner guest who has me nervous and not feeling quiet myself. Campbell is the cause.

  I met her, this gorgeous, intriguing woman, last year when Vivian and Brooks got engaged. I have, of course, dated other women, just as I’m sure she has dated other men since, but I can’t help but want her—only her. We have become close friends, enjoying each other’s company frequently; however, that’s where it ends.

  I want more and she has halted me in my tracks.

  Unrequited love, it’s a bitch.

  Here I am pining away for a woman who has forever friend-zoned me. How I got there, I don’t know, but I’d pay any price for a one-way ticket out. I’m pretty sure I’m forever cursed to love this woman.

  The gravel of Brooks’ driveway cracks under my tires as I pull up to their house. Bikes and scooters, tee-ball stands, and basketballs litter the front grass; all signs of an approaching summer vacation.

  I park next to Campbell’s car and throw the folder of information she needed into a backpack. I’m pissed, and I know she will be as well, at what that folder contains. I can’t help but think Jack is hiding more than just what I’ve uncovered; I don’t trust him. I just can’t figure out his angle, but without a doubt, he has more cards than what he’s showing.

  As soon as the car is shut off and the air conditioning ceases, the heat of early summer attacks me. I showered at the gym, but if I don’t run to the house, the sweltering temperature will void any hygienic courtesy I may have intended. Ball sweat and ass rot is what initially comes to mind, neither of which will help me to win Campbell over.

  With my backpack over my shoulder, I run to the door and knock as I enter the house.

  “Hey guys! I’m here,” I shout over the noise of children I’m met with upon my entry. There is no such thing as quiet in this house. Another reason I’m happy being just Uncle Lakin.

  “We’re in the kitchen,” Vivian announces. I follow the adult voices and laughter to the back part of the house, giving hugs and kisses to the kids with each step.

  “What’s in the bag? Gifts for us?” Grace asks, pulling on my backpack.

  “Not this time, baby girl,” I say continuing my stride. “It’s a present for Aunt Campbell.”

  “Lakin has a girlfriend. Lakin has girlfriend,” Blake and Emma sing together.

  I pin them with my eyes, willing them to hush as we enter the kitchen together. “Dude, you disappoint me,” I tell Blake. “Bros before hoes, my man.”

  The kids giggle, but Vivian perks up at my choice of words, and now it’s my turn for the facial scolding. “Sorry, Viv,” I offer with my boyish charm and smile.

  Brooks walks around the kitchen island and offers me a beer. “Looks like you could use this, little brother, especially now that you’ve come under the radar of the PG patrol,” he chuckles.

  “Thank you,” I say, gripping the beer into my hand and taking a long pull. The chill from the honey-brown goodness cools me down, and I savor that first gulp of the liquid gold. “And you’re an ass,” I add once I take the beer from my lips.

  “So what is this about a girlfriend?” Campbell asks as she enters the kitchen from an extended hallway.

  I don’t even register the words she’s saying; I’m too transfixed on the beauty before me. Her dark hair is wrapped into these curled swirls pinned on top of her head, which looks like something out of a 1940s pinup calendar. Her barely-there summer dress, has my hands twitching with the need to touch the delicate skin that’s exposed. In the back of my mind, I’m silently wishing we move our dinner outside in the hopes a breeze might catch her skirt just right.

  Fuck, I need to get my creeper status under control.

  “It’s nothing. They were just wondering about the backpack. These are the shirts you had me order for you.”

  She gives me a look of confusion as I place the bag in her hands. “You know,” I encourage with a nod and a sideways glance, “the shirts you ordered.”

  “Oh, I totally forgot about those. Thank you,” she says, playing along.

  I don’t know if she wants Brooks and Vivian to know about the contents, but I figure that isn’t my decision to make, no matter how great it would make the dinner conversation.

  She accepts the bag and scurries off to put it next to her purse. I can’t help but watch her leave the room, admiring the view. When she’s out of sight, I turn my attention back to my drink and notice Brooks watching me closely.

  “What?” I ask innocently.

  “No,” he says adamantly. “I know what you’re thinking, and the answers is no.”

  “And just what am I thinking, big brother?” I say defiantly as I take a seat on a bar stool at their kitchen island. I know how Brooks has had a soft spot for Campbell since college. They remained close even after he and Vivian broke up all those years ago. Brooks sees her as a sister, and treats her a
s such, no one is or will ever be good enough for her.

  “You play dumb, Lakin. I know how you are, and she’s is off limits,” he says matter-of-factly before taking a drink of his beer.

  “Who’s off limits?” Campbell asks, returning from the living room.

  “You are,” Grace interrupts, dancing through the kitchen. “Daddy said that Uncle Lakin isn’t allowed to like you.”

  Bam! Just like that, Grace drops a big-ass white elephant in the middle of the room, and prances out of the kitchen like the elephant isn’t smothering me to death.

  Campbell looks to Brooks, who doesn’t seem the least bit fazed that his daughter just made my evening awkward and uncomfortable. Her brows pull together, but I can’t read whether she’s upset that Brooks has forbidden a relationship with me or at the thought of actually having a relationship with me. Either way, it’s not looking good for me.

  “I didn’t realize I had given you authority over my love life,” Campbell says. She has a smile on her face, but I get the feeling she is deflecting, not wanting to make a big issue out of his demand.

  Fuck yeah, Cam. Tell him to go pound sand. If we want to date, fuck like bunnies, make a million babies, that’s our call, not his. I’m mentally cheering her on as Brooks silently contemplates the entire situation.

  He finally places his beer on the counter and exhales loudly. “Cam, you know I love you and want the best for you. A romance between you and Lakin would go south quickly and could make a lot of relationships tense. For all involved, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  It’s like they are not even acknowledging I’m sitting here listening to them discuss how I’m a poor romantic choice. Awesome with a capital A.

  I move my lips, preparing my voice to defend myself, when Cam speaks over me and anything I had to say instantly dissipates.

  “Lakin and I are just friends, Brooks,” she explains. “We enjoy each other’s company and hang out a lot, but we are only friends.”