Who would have guessed his life would begin when his brother’s ended?
After the show, he went home with Linda. As soon as they entered the house, she flipped on most of the lights.
“You put on a great show, Rodney,” she said.
“Thanks. It felt pretty awesome to be on stage again.”
Damn, she looked hot in her blue evening dress, her shortest one. It exposed part of her chest, too, and a lingering bandage. He should have stayed at a hotel in town. The groupies were crazed tonight. He could have had his pick of girls who wanted to play nurse.
Instead, here he stood, alone with a woman he wasn’t supposed to touch anymore. She must sense his frustration because she wrung her hands.
“I need to talk to you…Rodney.”
Uh-oh. Why did she stumble over his name? Did she suspect something?
“Sure. What’s on your mind?”
“Well, with Jack gone, it’s kind of awkward for me to keep living in your home.” She looked down and back up. “I was wondering if you could pay me some sort of salary so I could get my own place.”
He knew he should agree. The less time they spent around each other, the easier it would be to maintain his disguise. But, she’d been here as long as he could remember. With Rodney gone, the house already felt empty and kind of creepy.
“I won’t hear of it,” he said. “You’ve been a faithful member of the band. This will always be your home, Linda.”
“Thank you. Well, it’s late. You should probably get some rest.” She paused. “Do you need anything before I turn in?”
Yeah, you with your legs spread.
“Get me a beer, will you?”
Before she went to fetch it, a puzzled flicker raced across her brow. Then her face turned white as if she’d seen a ghost. Dammit. He’d accidentally demanded the beer the way Jack would have. Rodney would have included all the please and thank you shit, or gotten one himself.
So, when she brought it to him, he thanked her. Then he wandered into Rodney’s bedroom, too wide awake to sleep. After taking a few swigs, he set the beer down on the desk and walked out again to stare at the door of his old room. He squeezed the knob, ready to walk in like he’d done a thousand times before.
Luckily, he stopped himself in time and knocked.
Linda answered in her bathrobe. “Rodney. Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know,” he said, rubbing his face as he entered the room. “I feel kind of crappy. Maybe I overdid it at the show.”
When she rubbed a cool hand over his forehead, his dick hardened into a rock.
“Should I call a doctor?”
“No, you have what I need,” he said as he slipped an arm around her and slammed her body against his.
She squirmed and pushed against his chest, making him even harder. “Rodney, what are you doing?”
“You know who I am,” he whispered in her ear.
Her rounded eyes, filled with fear and dread, said she did.
“I hoped I was wrong,” she said, her voice dead and flat.
To his delight, her body went limp. It made it so easy to bend her over the edge of the bed, pull up her robe, rip down her panties, and fuck her. He pounded her with the constant strain of trying to be someone else plus the joy of finally living the life he deserved. The brass bed squeaked away as he played it—and her—like instruments.
After coming inside her with a groan of triumph, he held her shoulders down.
“So, how did it feel to be fucked by Rodney Walker?” he whispered in her ear.
“Y-you’re a monster!”
“You’re going to keep that bit of knowledge to yourself, though, aren’t you?”
She nodded, her dark hair sliding across the quilt. “I won’t tell anyone what you did.”
He froze for a second as cold dread filled him. “What do you mean, what I did?”
“I saw it all, Jack—Rodney, or whoever you are now.”
“Do you mean the crash?” He raised her shoulders up until she faced him. “I thought you were unconscious like the others.”
She shook her head. “I was awake. I didn’t remember it until you asked me for the beer, but I saw you kill your brother.”
Fuck!
“Thank you for telling me,” he said as he wrapped his hands around her throat. “If you tell a single soul, you know what? I’m going to kill you, too.”
When he let go of her, she crumpled into a sobbing heap. He knew her well enough to be sure she’d keep her mouth shut. If she knew, who else did? Besides Dee… He wouldn’t be able to let his guard down for a second.
* * *
Dee stood onstage in the auditorium of one of D.C.’s law schools, ready to debate with her opponent. Prepping for it, at least, had kept her mind off Rodney. She’d dreamed about him again last night. Tangling her fingers in his soft, honey-colored locks. Gazing into the whiskey shade of his eyes. The hot slide of his flesh against hers as shower water rained around them. Their souls, mingling and becoming one—despite their races and the world’s prejudices.
She’d woken up crying.
Their relationship had been a short and long-distance one. Why couldn’t she forget him and move on?
She took her place at the podium, breathing deeply to steady her nerves. Her burgundy power suit may not have gotten her promoted, but she hoped it would work here. Ted gave her a thumbs up from the audience. In the past few weeks, she’d really come to rely on him. She had to get elected. After all the hard work and pain in her life, she needed a victory.
The first question hit her like a shot. Pulling herself out of her morbid thoughts just in time, she answered.
