Shades of Resolution (Distortion #3) Read online

  Lexie ran her hands over her breasts and fondled them as she watched the heavy rise and fall of Jackson’s chest. His eyes never left her breasts as she molded them into taut peaks. Lexie took control of her pleasure, feeling empowered by his rapt attention. His entire body was coiled tight beneath her and she used it to her advantage.

  Lexie ran her hand down her stomach and began stroking her pleasure bead, still swollen and wet. She began rocking her hips and the sensation of his hard length rubbing her inner walls quickly brought her back toward the climb to pleasure. She could feel her wetness seeping out of her, dripping heavily with desire as he watched her every movement.

  Jackson began matching her thrusts as he grabbed her hips and moved with her. Lexie could feel her legs tremble as she neared the top of her climb to release. Jackson pushed off the floor and wrapped his arms around her, flipping her over onto her back. He took her breast in his mouth as he thrust hard and inside her swollen center, causing heat to rush through her body and push her over the edge. Lexie screamed out as Jackson forced himself deep inside her. His body trembled as she clung to him. He buried his face in her neck and gently kissed her as Lexie waited for clarity to find her again. She wanted to stay like this, Jackson’s arms wrapped around her and their bodies both sated.

  Jackson rolled onto his back and pulled Lexie against his chest. They were both quiet for a few moments, savoring what had just transpired between them.

  “I think I made your little prince very jealous,” Jackson said, placing a kiss on Lexie’s forehead.

  Lexie smiled and raised her head enough to see her drawing on the wall.

  “I think you just blew his mind.” Lexie laughed.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  John

  “You can’t keep pulling this shit, John,” Brian Crothers argued. “Detective Haffey is already crawling up my ass trying to find a reason to shut us down. Our clientele will not be happy knowing we have authorities sniffing around. This whole business is dependent upon discretion. Now, we have to dispose of a body. Jesus Christ.”

  “I’m taking care of it,” John replied, looking at Brian through a cloud of smoke. John always respected Brian’s eye for business and the care he took in his personal appearance. The man reminded him of a younger version of himself…though sometimes Brian needed a reminder of who he was dealing with.

  “How?” Brian asked, picking up the decanter of whiskey and pouring himself a glass from the tray on the edge of John’s desk. Brian had partnered with John over a year ago to establish the exclusive club, Bitter Sweet. John had learned a long time ago of the fortune to be earned in drugs and tailoring to the sexual tastes of rich men. This company was to give them the platform in which to distribute to a specific clientele. “The city is already in an uproar after what happened with the mayor. Everyone is out for blood. That detective is just itching to find a connection between you and Masten.”

  “I think you need to calm the fuck down,” John said, placing his cigar in the ash tray. “Leave this side of the business for me to handle.”

  Brian ran his fingers through his hair and looked at John before he dropped his hands. “It’s a hard thing to ignore, John. This business can come to a stop before it’s even open at this rate.”

  “Your lack of confidence is insulting,” John challenged.

  “I mean no disrespect, but you have to understand my worry,” Brian offered. Brian took a generous drink.

  John pursed his lips thoughtfully. “After tonight you won’t have to worry about the detective.”

  “What do you have planned?” Brian asked suspiciously.

  “Like I said, leave these things to me to deal with. As for the dead body, it’s being taken care of as we speak. Rayner and Jacobs are very discreet. As far as you’re concerned, it’s business as usual.”

  “Won’t Rebecca be missed?” Brian drained his glass with an exaggerated swallow and set it down on the tray.

  “She’s already forgotten,” John assured him.

  Brian nodded his head. “I have a shitload of things to do to get this place ready. I need you to look these over.” Brian slid a file of papers across the desk in front of John. “I will leave this in your capable hands.”

  “Please send in Rosh.” John waved his hand toward the door.

  John looked around his new office. Now that the paintings were hung and everything was in its place, he could appreciate the overall feel of the space. The entire club offered an old world feel with ornate trim and deep, rich colors on the wall. It was the perfect backdrop for the atmosphere they were creating. John rubbed his forehead where a dull headache refused to subside. Thoughts of Mary had plagued him and kept him awake at night. Knowing she was dead and gone forever made so much anger furl tightly inside him. He found himself seeking out excessive drink and release with countless women, but nothing alleviated his mood. The effects of sleepless nights were beginning to wear on him.

  John barely had a drink poured when Rosh came into the room. “John,” Rosh acknowledged, closing the door behind him. Rosh had been under his wing for years, but John never put much faith in men with gambling addictions. When it came down to it, the man was not in control of himself, and therefore John knew that his value had its limits. His respected position among law enforcement had been his saving grace all these years but now that has been tainted.

  “Having you here does not do either of us any favors,” John began. “It will only be a matter of time before someone recognizes you.”

  “Giles suspects my involvement with you. It’s best for me to stay away from Westford for the time being until things are dealt with,” Rosh insisted.

  ‘I’m not suggesting you go back to Westford. I have a job for you. Flint has not shown his face since the ambush at the hotel. He’s not answering my calls, and from Lexie’s admission, I have a feeling that he knows I will not look favorably upon him if he does turn up,” John said.

  “You want me to track him down?” Rosh asked.

  “Yes, and I believe you should start looking in Freyview.” John set his glass down on the desk. “I’m sending Rayner and Jacobs with you.”

  “What do we do when we find him?” Rosh questioned.

  “Flint has been by my side for many years. I think it would be best if he was brought back so we can talk about what he did.” They both knew what this meant. It was understood that John wanted to deal with Flint’s betrayal first hand.

  “If Flint is after Lexie, then Jackson won’t be far. What do you want me to do with him?” Rosh asked hesitantly. John knew that Rosh had history with Jackson, being he was his father’s partner. His knowledge and ability to get close to Jackson might prove useful. Jackson, like his father, was a thorn in his side that he could not wait to get rid of.

  “I want him dead.”

  Rosh nodded in understanding. He was always willing to do what John requested, he was a man that carried the burden of addiction, and this made him pliable. Rosh’s debt was more than one man could pay in a lifetime, and this meant that John owned him. Rosh would never be a free man again for the rest of his lifetime.

  “I will leave for Freyview then,” Rosh said, walking toward the door.

  “I want Lexie brought back to me,” John added. “She’s to be unharmed.”

  “Of course.”

  “I will be expecting you to keep me informed.”

  When Rosh opened the door, Rogers was standing on the other side. He nodded toward Rosh as he passed him and stepped into the room.

  “We’re ready for you, boss,” Rogers said.

  “Good,” John said as he followed Rogers out of the room.

  John unlocked and pushed open the door leading to the basement stairwell. Most of the storage items were kept on this level, as well as some of the high end liquor. They passed a few crates on their way toward the few rooms that were located in the far corner of the lower level. John opened the door and walked into the room. This unused area was already proving to be
most useful for certain business exchanges. It even had an exit to the rear of the building, which led to a stairwell into the alleyway, making it easier for John’s people to come and go without entering the main part of the club.

  With no windows, the only lighting came from the stark fluorescent bulbs overhead. The room was anything but comfortable, but it was perfect for what John’s intentions were.

  Rogers led him toward the center of the room, where a man was bound to a chair. His head hung forward, his dark hair matted with blood that dripped down his face and splattered on his shirt. Rogers grabbed the man by the hair and hauled his face up for John to view.

  The man’s left eye was swollen shut and several cuts covered his face. He didn’t respond to Rogers’ touch. He was unconscious and his breath indicated the stress his body was under. John studied his men’s handiwork and was pleased with the result.

  Rayner was standing behind the man, wiping his hands off on a rag. “Find Jacobs and get ready to leave. Rosh will fill you in on the details,” John ordered.

  “Yes sir.” Rayner tossed the rag aside, pulled off his ski mask, and started for the door.

  “Rayner?” John called after him. “Keep an eye on Rosh,” he said in warning.

  Rayner nodded and closed the door behind him. Rayner was aware that John had his reservations about trusting Rosh.

  John turned his attention back to their prisoner and narrowed his eyes. A mixture of saliva and blood dripped from his mouth as he made a small whimpering sound.

  “I think if we do anymore you will not be able to recognize him,” Rogers added.

  “No, this is good,” John confirmed. He walked over toward a makeshift table created from a couple of wooden crates and grabbed the camera. John turned on the power and looked through the lens. Having the camera in his hand reminded him of Lexie. He wanted to bring her back to him. She was all he had left of Mary now.

  “This was the message I was going for,” John confirmed.

  John passed the camera to Rogers before loosening his tie and pulling it from his collar. He rolled up his sleeves, pulled on a pair of gloves, and picked up a black ski mask.

  Once John’s identity was disguised, Rogers hit record on the camera. John picked up a pair of wire snips sitting among an assortment of tools. Turning his attention back to their captive, he tilted his chin up so his head flopped backward. A low moan rumbled from his chest as he started to come to. John ran the snips along his cheek. His victim opened his eyes slightly and started to make a pained sound from the back of his throat that quickly turned into pleas. John watched a tear drip from his eye and mingle with the blood upon his cheek.

  “Please…no…” The man’s voice was barely recognizable as he forced it through his swollen throat, tears now streamed down his face.

  John shoved a rag into the man’s mouth and placed a piece of duct tape over it to muffle the man’s screams that he knew would soon follow. The man was so weak from his torture he couldn’t resist as John gagged him.

  John dropped his gaze toward the man’s hand that was taped to the arms of the chairs. His fingers tightened their hold, turning white. John pried his little finger off the arm rest and placed the wire cutters around the flesh, squeezing tightly.

  A muffled scream tore through his throat as he jerked so violently that the chair scraped along the floor. John didn’t stop until the cutters pushed through the entirety of his finger and severed it from his hand. Blood poured down the arm of the chair and splattered on the floor as the man cried out in agony.

  John held up the dismembered finger for the camera before tossing it along with the snips onto the table. Rogers stopped recording and set the camera down.

  “What do you want me to do with him now?” Rogers asked over the cries that echoed in the room.

  “Wait till dark and take him to Trent Baker’s place. He can keep him there until anything changes,” John said. “Bandage up his hand so he doesn’t get blood everywhere and clean this place up.”

  John turned toward his victim. “I’m sure you can understand that we can’t have your sister stirring up shit,” John said as he tapped him on the side of the cheek. “She needs to learn a lesson if she is going to be a detective in this town.” John pulled off the gloves and threw them on the table. He noticed blood on his arm and grabbed the rag off the table to wipe it off. “Keep him gagged until he stops making noise.”

  John took the camera from Rogers and headed back toward his office. He didn’t want to waste any time getting the footage into the right hands. John smiled to himself, it hadn’t taken him long to find what he needed to make sure Detective Haffey would not interfere with his business again.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Jackson

  Opening his eyes, Jackson stared up at the ceiling of Lexie’s dark bedroom. His mind raced from his dream that danced too close to danger. He placed his hands over his face and took a deep breath. He knew it was just a dream, but he couldn’t shake off the lingering emotions. Normally whiskey and sleeping pills would ensure a dreamless night, but he couldn’t risk it now. He needed a clear mind for what lay ahead. Fear of failing to keep Lexie safe plagued him and there were too many unknowns to put his mind at ease.

  There was a reason Stodden had secured his position. He was a man who calculated every move and knew how to work the angle. Jackson needed to be smarter to stay a step ahead. He had exhausted all his informants and he knew the time was near where he needed to act on what he knew. It was nowhere near a perfect plan but Jackson had gone with much less before.

  The reason Lexie’s plan bothered him so much was because it would have been what he would have insisted upon if it was anyone else but he didn’t want to put Lexie in that position again. He couldn’t stand the thought of putting her in danger. Stodden was unpredictable and he did not trust that Lexie would be safe with him even though they shared the same blood. Jackson knew he was wasting too much time trying to come up with a solution. Their window of advantage was already closing.

  He was terrified to loosen his hold on Lexie. He had lost too much in this lifetime that the fear of losing her was enough to bring him to his knees. She had become his everything, the very heart beating in his chest.

  Jackson reached for Lexie but she was no longer in bed. He pushed himself up and glanced around the empty room. The lingering panic from his dream tightened its grip. Jackson soundlessly climbed out of bed and pulled on his jeans. He grabbed his gun off the nightstand; a habit from years of living in danger.

  Jackson stepped out into the hall. The bathroom light was not on and there was no sign of Lexie as he headed toward the stairs. The darkness of the house was heavy and ominous as Jackson kept his gun in front of him. He could not shake the feelings from his dream that had played a similar scenario. His head was reeling with fear.

  When he neared the top of the stairs he noticed a silhouette in Lexie’s mother’s room. Jackson lowered his gun and came to stand in the doorway. Lexie was standing against the window with her hands pressed against the glass. Lexie glanced over at him when she noticed him.

  “You scared me when I woke up and you were gone,” Jackson said as he tucked the gun in the back of his pants.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Lexie said as she looked back out at the dark property.

  Jackson walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He loved how she melted into his arms, like she needed him as much as he needed her.

  “I think I remember something,” Lexie whispered as she wrapped her arms around his and squeezed tightly.

  Jackson placed a kiss on the top of her head, enjoying the peace of having her in his arms after the panic of his waking without her in bed. “What’s that?”

  “When I was young, I remember waking up from a bad dream and coming into my mother’s room to crawl in bed with her. I did that often when I was little. She would always wrap her arms around me and hold me until I feel asleep.” Lexie took a deep breath before she continue
d. “She wasn’t in bed. When I looked out the window I saw her down there.” Lexie pointed toward a bed of flowers. “She was digging in the dirt in the middle of the night. I remember being scared, like I was seeing something I shouldn’t, so I crawled in bed and waited for her to come in.

  “I can still remember when she finally came to bed. She pulled me close and wrapped us tightly in the covers. She thought I was asleep, but I was waiting for her. She smelled like fresh soil and it lulled me to sleep.

  “The next morning when she made breakfast she told me we were going to buy some flowers and start a garden. It was the beginning of her love of gardening.”

  Jackson stayed quiet as she visited the memory of her mother. “I think she buried something there. What if it’s what we’re looking for?” Lexie spun around in his arms. “I think we should dig it up.”

  “I’ll go get a shovel,” Jackson replied without hesitation.

  ***

  The moon was full as it cast substantial light down upon the ground, making the use of flashlights unnecessary. Jackson had been digging for the better part of an hour. Lexie couldn’t remember exactly where her mother had been that night; only the general area. After carefully transplanting some of the plants Lexie wanted to salvage, he began digging. Lexie waited beside him with her arms wrapped around herself, feeling the chill despite the oversized sweater she wore.

  Jackson could tell she was on edge, every sound in the distance made her nervous. “I think I just heard something,” Lexie said anxiously.

  Jackson stopped moving and listened. The only sounds he heard were the normal sounds one would hear in nature. “I don’t hear anything,” Jackson said, looking at Lexie.