Geneva
“Oh. My. Lord.” Geneva squeezed her eyes shut and clung to Spence as the waves of pleasure washed through her body. She arched her back as he reminded her of one reason they made a good couple. Their chemistry had been in the stratosphere from the start of their relationship. His betrayal threatened to contaminate the cloud of ecstasy she rode, but she wrapped her legs around him and let the sensory overload sweep his flaws away. Momentarily.
“I love you, Jen.”
By the time the pure cotton sheet at her back signaled a return to reality, Spence had wrapped his arms around her and was sprinkling kisses on her forehead.
Her lack of reciprocity said everything about the state of their marriage.
If it wasn’t for the fact that they hadn’t made love in more than a month, and that it was so good, she’d have rolled to her side of the king-sized bed. But Spence wasn’t one to give up once he had the advantage, and the truth was, she hadn’t realized how she missed his lovemaking. But that was his fault.
A year was a long time to hold a grudge, but that was part of what made her uniquely Geneva. As she’d told Janet, Octavia, and Sylvia—lifelong friends she’d made in college—most men didn’t understand their partners. When a woman set her heart on a mate and joined her life to his, she made that choice for life. The way mute swans and gray wolves settled into permanent pairs. Men didn’t understand how gutted and insecure they left their partner for what sometimes turned out to be a momentary diversion. Even now, she still didn’t trust him. Spence had shattered her heart and her belief in him. Twice—that she knew about. God help him if he cheated again and she found out about it.
He kissed her cheek, rolled off the bed, and picked up his shorts on the way out of the room. The light went on in the hall, and she released the breath that had been trapped in her lungs. Her thoughts never left Alexia for long, and she wondered if she was asleep in the facility where she would be for an undetermined amount of time. They would move her when she could manage at home.
As for that boy, Jason, she wondered if he would last the week. The havoc that must have played out earlier in the Blalock’s home made her smirk. She didn’t take pleasure in other people’s pain, but all bets were off when it came to her daughter. Jason got only what he deserved for making that evil move on Alexia. Right now, he’d be in agony—except for the medication. He wouldn’t be able to rest on any part of his body without his skin being on fire. Hell on earth. Just like the punishment he’d rained on her daughter, for no good reason. If that other boy hadn’t been there to help him, Jason wouldn’t have made it out of the shower, and she’d have been done with him in one go.
Phil’s presence was a tad inconvenient after she put her plans in motion and set that timer, but he’d remember this painful lesson when she got around to him. While on this mission, she’d always have the advantage. People didn’t realize how vulnerable they were with everything in their home automated, computerized, or connected to the internet. She’d played around with the Blalocks’ appliances, air conditioning, and lighting until the idea of breaching their heating and electrical system combined, turned into a viable option.
Their bathrooms were the dream of the hedonistic—underfloor and shower floor heating, plus heated towel rails. The metal handle that controlled the sliding doors housed an electronic panel which controlled the water temperature and was the perfect conduit for electricity. She’d been surprised to find that the water jets adjusted to 60 degrees in any direction. A pleasant experience on an ordinary day, but not so much at scalding temperature or combined with electricity. Jason’s shower stall had turned into the perfect death trap.
Her thoughts went on hold the moment Spence appeared in the doorway, balancing their large cheese board in both hands. She chided herself. Spence might be intuitive, but he couldn’t see inside her head.
As he approached, she rose and went to the bathroom to freshen up. A few minutes later, she returned wearing his bathrobe.
He’d switched on a lamp and straightened the sheets. His smile widened when she climbed into bed, but he didn’t comment on the oversized robe. She sat against the headboard and accepted the glass of port he offered. “What are we celebrating?”
“You have to ask?” His slow smile was suggestive as his eyes traveled the length of her body. With one hand he circled her foot, stroking the inside of her ankle. “To us. Thank you, babe.”
She didn’t ask why Spence was thanking her. They both knew. She’d made him work hard to get back in her good graces, but the truth was that the family crisis had put their hostilities on hold. The way he’d made love to her tonight made their ceasefire so worth it. Inhaling deeply, she tapped the glass against his. “To us,” she echoed.
Geneva’s gaze panned the selections he’d made—apple slices, grapes, cashews, specialty salami, crackers, aged cheddar, brie, and her personal favorite, pepper jack. The port was included simply because she liked it. Thoughtful gestures like that had won her heart early in their relationship. Her stomach gurgled quietly, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten lunch. “This is quite a feast.”
Spence chuckled. “I did say I was hungry before we fell into bed.”
“That’s true.” She patted the space next to her. “Come closer.”
Avoiding the questions in his eyes, she held on to the board while Spence settled on the other side.
She popped a grape into her mouth and delicately chewed it. “Tell me about your trip.”
“Normal stuff. Meetings and more meetings.” He bit into a cracker and a sliver of cheddar, and it was a moment before he said, “But we got some good news from the police.”
Her eyes were glued to him, and she went still. “And?”
“That policeman you asked me about? The one you said was quietly transferred?”
She nodded and swallowed the grape. “I remember.”
“He’s facing corruption charges.”
With her gaze lowered, Geneva sipped from the wine glass. “Really?”
“That’s what Dad told me.” Spence looked directly at her. “Apparently, his bank records somehow found their way into the public domain, and he had no explanation for how he’d come by the lump sum in his account.”
Frowning, Geneva asked, “So, how did it come to light? Especially since the police clearly don’t get in a hurry there?”
Spence licked his lip, swallowed more wine, then announced, “An anonymous tip made to Crime Stop.”
He looked at her again. “The informant was kind enough to provide a trail that led directly to Corporal Marsden’s bank account.”
Geneva cocked one brow. “So you know his name?”
“It was in the paper.” He stared across the room and didn’t speak for a while. Then, he pulled in a deep breath. “Geneva, if this had something to do with you…would you admit anything, if I asked you?”
“Why would you want to?” She patted his chest. “You credit me with far too much. I may be handy with a computer, but I’m not Superwoman.”
Spence’s response was a smile that told her nothing. He was good at keeping secrets, which she knew all too well. It was clear he didn’t believe her, but she had nothing to hide. At least, not anywhere he’d choose to look. If she was careful under normal circumstances, she was meticulous when faced with extraordinary situations—like invading people’s privacy and accessing records she shouldn’t. But nothing was off limits in her crusade.
They discussed Alexia’s next steps on her healing journey, then Spence removed the leftovers from their meal. While he was in the kitchen, she reached for her phone and went to the Social-Invyte platform. Her first stop was on Christian Skyers’ page. As she scrolled through the latest pictures of him posted from a hospital bed, she gritted her teeth so hard her jaw hurt.
He’d posted about being attacked by a group of hoodlums, but Geneva didn’t believe that’s how he came to be injured. Something told her Deja had run ahead of her, which annoyed her all over again. No harm could come to Christian. Not yet, anyway. The plan was to deal with him last. For what he’d done, he deserved special attention.
She navigated to Jason’s page, which was flooded with get-well wishes, but didn’t waste time there. Earlier, she learned he’d had several seizures and his chances of survival were dicey. Phil couldn’t have chosen a worse day to show up at Jason’s house.
Unlucky for Geneva. Lucky for Jason.
On Phil’s page, someone had shared Jason’s shower mishap and Phil’s rescue. Their friends and well-wishers had left hundreds of comments.
Geneva wrinkled her nose. Someone had posted a photo of Jason, who was swathed in bandages. These youngsters didn’t understand the meaning of the word, or the sanctity of privacy. If she hadn’t limited Alexia’s visitors, pictures of her would probably have ended up on the internet as well. When—if—they released pictures of Alexia, it would be on her terms.
“What are you looking at?” Spence asked, sitting on the side of the bed.
Geneva pressed a button to blank the screen, then stroked Spence’s chest. “Nothing interesting. What d’you say we hit the shower and then go to bed?”
On cue, he yawned. Then he stood and held out one hand. “That sounds good.”
When she rose, Geneva ran a finger down to his belly button. “Will you go start the water? I’ll be there in a minute.”
She waited for the sound of the shower before she sat at the cherrywood writing desk in one corner of the room. All she needed was a moment to tidy up the incriminating digital trails she’d been laying earlier when Spence lured her away from the computer.