When the Heart Lies - By Christina North Page 0,42

forever. Every fairytale story had guaranteed life would be happily ever after. Her throat tightened, and her eyes tingled threatening tears. She blinked, flicked the light off, and stopped in the doorway. The living room was directly in front of her, and she looked in. Amazed that Max could sleep through all the music, she went to check on him. Her hand glided over his soft, still baby-like hair as she leaned closer inhaling his scent and resting her lips on his head. Feeling helpless to protect him, a stabbing pain ripped through to her soul. Spiritlessly, she headed back to the bedroom.

When she closed the door behind her, she stood holding the knob. Wayde had already gotten into bed. She entered and climbed from the bottom of the bed onto the side by the wall, trying without success to hug it. The mattress sagged as he turned toward her. Inside, she was screaming. He reached around her, grabbing her breast. Milking a cow. She tried to move away, but he jerked her closer.

“I’m tired.”

“Too bad, you’re always tired. I ain’t listening to that shit no more.”

“I’m sick from the alcohol like I might throw up.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the alcohol.

“Don’t gimme lip. Play with me.”

“No.”

The bed rocked as he tugged at himself. The motion, along with the thought of what he was doing, was making her sick.

“Shit. I drank too much anyway. Looks like you’re out of luck.”

Her breaths skipped as she exhaled slow, trying to conceal her relief. Thank God he was impotent most of the time. She pulled away toward the wall. This time he let her go. The music in both rooms was loud and mingled into a mess of sound. “Why do they have to play loud music every time they’re in there? And why do we have music on? Max is sleeping.”

“They don’t want us listening to her howl. Ours is on so they think you are. Go to sleep.”

~ ~ ~

The houses on Sentinel were enormous, and the streets were lined with beautiful oaks, birches, and even a few Weeping Willow trees. Jackson thought the environment suited Kinsley. “I wonder what their house is like. Let’s work the advantage of getting inside. Ask for a tour. Women always do that annoying shit.” He smiled.

Olivia shook her head and grinned. “Jackson … really, sometimes … you realize if you weren’t so impossibly sexy, you’d never get away with those kinds of comments, joking or not.”

“What? You’re all a little trying at times; you can’t deny it.”

“And men aren’t? Shit, I missed 316. I have to back up.” She craned her neck around, backed up just beyond the circular driveway that sloped up a hill to the big colonial style home, and pulled in. The landscaping was perfect with topiaries lighting each side of the center entrance.

“Ready to meet the real Kinsley, Jackson?”

“I guess I’ll have to be, won’t I.”

You could tell a lot about a woman from the way she decorated her home. There were also multitudes of secrets hidden inside. He hoped some of those secrets might enlighten him on the other issues Xavier and Kinsley had been so vague about. Those issues, he was sure, had something to do with why Kinsley left home in the first place.

He looked over at Olivia. “Take my lead.”

They headed up the long stone path leading to the house and exchanged a glance before ringing the doorbell. Before his hand reached the bell, the heavy wooden door burst open with Nick in mid-sentence.

“Hey, Jackson. Olivia. Right on time. I called Mia. She should be over soon. C’mon in.”

As they entered the foyer, Jackson stopped in his tracks—deer in the headlights stopped. Directly before him, framed by the winding staircase and lit by a crystal chandelier, hung a nearly life-sized, black-and-white portrait of Kinsley. She was lying on her side in clouds of white linen, gazing down at Max in her arms. He was covering her nakedness. Nick lay behind Kinsley with his hand on her shoulder, similarly covered by her. He was gazing down upon the two of them.

Olivia, still staring at the portrait said, “Holy crap, it’s fabulous.” She turned to Jackson.

His neck craned back for a better view. Open-mouthed and gawking, he stood entranced. Seeing Kinsley like that with Nick and her son shook him into reality. Kinsley was a married woman, a mother, and in a mess he had no business being in. Xavier’s voice chided—“It isn’t a good