The Cold Room

Forty-One

The food had been spicy and delicious, the wine superb, and Taylor was feeling just a little tipsy as they headed back to their room. She and Baldwin stopped on the bridge again, and this time Baldwin showered her with kisses-her lips, her nose, the soft hollow at the base of her neck, the spot right below her scar that had become so exquisitely sensitive after the surgery. She knew empirically the tingling was nerve damage, but preferred the more romantic version of events.

When they came up for air, she realized her cell phone was vibrating in her pocket.

“Whoops. I better get this,” she said. Still insinuated between Baldwin’s legs, she fumbled the phone and nearly dropped it. She didn’t recognize the number.

She answered it with a brisk, “Taylor Jackson.”

There was no sound, just a deep emptiness. Dread immediately paraded into her system. There was only one person who was making calls to her without saying anything.

She started to hang the phone up, heard whispering. She put the phone back to her ear.

“Did you hear me? I’m coming for you, Taylor.”

The Pretender. What in the name of hell was this guy up to?

She was feeling reckless. After everything that had happened today, she felt like she had nothing more to lose. Her temper flared.

“You want me? Well, come and get me, you son of a bitch.” She slammed the phone closed. Every nerve was on fire; she felt more alive than she had in years. She refused to let this creep slink around in the back of her mind anymore. She’d opened the door. With any luck, she would push him through.

Baldwin knew immediately what had happened; she could read the anger on his face.

“Taylor, was that the wisest-”

She slapped her hand on the concrete, painfully scraping her palm. She jerked her hand back, inspected the cut. She sucked a tiny drop of blood off her wrist and got quiet.

“Baldwin, I can’t stand it. He’s out there, and he wants me for something. So let’s push his buttons and see how he feels for a while. It’s ridiculous that I have to look over my shoulder, waiting to see where and who he’s going to kill next. No, damn it. I’m sick of being manipulated, of being on my guard against everything and everyone. I want this done. I’m going to let him have a taste of what it means to tangle with me.”

“Do you think he’s nearby?”

“No. He’s not ready. I doubt he’ll be giving me a heads-up.”

She started to walk away. He caught her hand, turned her to face him roughly. “I won’t lose you, Taylor.”

She stood tall, looked him deep in his green eyes. “Trust me, Baldwin, you won’t. But if I live my life a minute longer waiting to see what he’s going to do, I’ll drive myself mad. I’m not happy sitting back, waiting and seeing. That’s not me. If I could be more proactive, actually hunt his ass down, trust me, I would do that. I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re just going to have to trust me.”

“I’ve been a little short on trust lately. I know. I’m sorry.”

“Are you talking about Memphis? Don’t be a fool. He’s nothing to me.”

“But you’re not nothing to him, Taylor. He’s head over heels in love with you. In lust with you-my God, I can practically hear his hormones shift into overdrive when your name comes up.”

She fingered her ring, stifling a smile. She loved it when he acted jealous.

“Oh, John. You are the one and only man for me. Don’t you know that?”

She swore she saw something move in the depths of his eyes. His kiss took her breath away. When he broke free, his voice was hoarse.

“You’ve never called me John before.”

She didn’t say anything, just kissed him again. When they came up for air, she tangled her fingers in his hair.

“How’s this for irony. I guess you have Memphis to thank for that. He asked me why I don’t call you John. I didn’t have a good answer for him. So I thought I’d try it out.”

“Let’s keep it for special occasions, then. I don’t think I could ever get tired of hearing you say it.” He was quiet for a moment. “As a matter of fact, I’ll make you a deal. The next time you call me John, it will be in front of a priest.”

She looked at him and he smiled.

“We need to talk about when we’re going to get married.”

She kissed him lightly on the lips. “Now’s not the time. But soon. Soon, honey. I promise. We have more pressing matters at hand. Let’s go catch the twins.”

They left the bridge. The hotel was only a hundred yards up the street; they were inside in less than five minutes. They took the elevator to the third floor, collected their key. Their room was two floors up but they took the stairs.

She didn’t want to admit that her skin crawled the entire time.