Part 22 (1/2)
Jordan shook his head vehemently. ”No, Claire! No, sweetheart!”
”No? Yes, Jordan! Yes, I've been here this whole time, knowing in the back of my mind what you're capable of, and still loving you! Still wanting to be with you and to have your baby! Yes, I have! But you? You want her? You choose her over me?”
”No!”
”I saw you with her with my own eyes! I saw you kiss her!”
”She kissed me!”
”And you let her!” Jordan was garbage. He was like any other man, led around like a dog on a leash by his d.i.c.k. Claire had wasted herself on him, loving him, and needing him. ”I am so sick of you,” she said, gritting her teeth. ”I've bought into the hype, Jordan-that you're so much more than you really are.” She said this with disgust.
”You need to calm down, Claire,” he warned. ”I know you're angry, but what you saw out there wasn't the truth! I'm with you! I love you! I want to be with you!”
”I don't want you!” Those words coming from her mouth sounded like they'd come from someone else, because from the moment she'd met him, Claire could never fathom saying something like that to the man she loved so deeply.
Claire pushed past him, grabbed her suitcase off the bed and her keys off the nightstand, and hurried downstairs.
Jordan stumbled over to the side of the bed and sat down before his knees gave way out from underneath him. It was Claire? That's how Lonnie made it out of that house that night? But he'd left Claire in ...
”The hospital,” he muttered dismally. She'd known all this time. ”f.u.c.k!”
And Lonnie had known. This whole time, she'd been biding her time, waiting anxiously to make this last move, and he'd played right into her hands.
He had no idea how long he'd sat there. Jordan tortured himself going through a play-by-play of everything that had happened since Lonnie came back into his life. She had systematically, and maybe even unwittingly, unraveled every chord until all that was left of him was a raw and open wound. Jordan found himself in unfamiliar territory, outsmarted, and off balance. All of a sudden, he was the underdog, the victim, and fodder.
He didn't even remember picking up the phone or dialing the number. Jordan had no kind of plan in mind when he called, but he knew that it was the place to start.
Frank Ross answered the phone. ”h.e.l.lo?”
”Call Lonnie,” Jordan instructed him. ”Tell her you're back in town just for a night, but that you want to see her.”
Frank was quiet for a few moments. ”Where?”
”That motel you were staying at, outside of town.” Jordan's mind moved like methodical components of a machine. ”She knows that I paid your bail, so don't act like you still believe that it was her.”
”She's going to ask me what I want.”
”Make it up, Frank. Make it good. And make sure she believes you.”
Frank sighed. ”What time?”
Jordan glanced at his watch. ”An hour. I'll call you back in a few minutes with the room number. Tell her to meet you there.”
Jordan hung up.
Sugar Wishes Don't Change What Is Real ”You bought Anton stock?” Lonnie squealed over the phone to Desi. ”Is that true?”
Desi paused. ”Yeah, Lonnie. I bought it.”
”When? Why didn't you tell me? How much?”
”A few days ago, and I didn't tell you because ... I don't know. And I bought a lot.”
Lonnie was beginning to get the feeling that Desi buying that stock had nothing to do with her. ”Why'd you buy it, Desi?” she asked cautiously. ”I thought you wanted to be done with Gatewood.”
”It came highly recommended, Lonnie. And after speaking to my accountant, I thought it was a sound business move.”
A sound business move? That didn't sound like the Desi she knew. ”Who recommended it?” When Desi didn't answer, that really raised Lonnie's suspicions. ”Desi? Did you see Gloria Dawson?” Desi could at least tell her that since Lonnie was the one who'd provided her with the lead in the first place.
”Not yet.”
It figured. All of a sudden Desi had her own agenda that she was working toward, which somehow included buying up stock in an oil company, making money off Jordan.
”We need to get together and talk, Des,” Lonnie said sternly. She didn't like the vibe she was getting from the woman all of a sudden. ”When can I come over?”
”Lonnie, I'm about to get on a plane. We'll talk again when I land. Okay?”
Desi hung up before Lonnie could even say good-bye.
Frank's dumb a.s.s was taking a huge risk leaving Cotton while he was out on bail for murder. He'd called her, all shaken up over finding out that Jordan had footed the bill for his bail and lawyer.
”What the h.e.l.l does it mean, Lonnie?” he'd asked desperately over the phone. ”Why would he bail me out? What's he want? What's he up to?”
He'd begged her to meet him at that motel he'd stayed in before when he was in town. Lonnie agreed but only if he drove his a.s.s back to Cotton first thing in the morning. Jordan had told her that he owned Frank. Even she didn't know what he'd meant by that, but she owed Frank some solace, even if it was just a shoulder to cry on. She'd think of something to try and ease his concern, though. The fact was, Gatewood money could afford some of the best lawyering in the country, and if Jordan had bought Frank a lawyer, then chances were good that Frank would walk, guilty or not.
Lonnie pulled into the parking lot but didn't see Frank's car parked anywhere out front. Technically, the man had jumped bail, so of course, if he had a brain cell in his head, he'd have either gotten rid of his car or parked it somewhere else. Maybe he'd been really smart and caught a bus into town. The fact that he'd even come back here in the first place was odd, but Frank was operating on adrenaline and instinct and, no doubt, fear. All those things together could drive people to make dumb decisions.
Lonnie walked up the stairs and all the way down the corridor to the last room, number 224, and knocked. The door swung open-it was Jordan's face she saw on the other side of it. It happened so fast that Lonnie didn't have a chance to react. One minute she was standing in an open doorway, and the next, her body was flung onto the bed, the door slammed behind her, and Jordan's hand was pressed down on her neck, holding her in place on that bed.
Not again! she thought, pounding his arms and face with her fists. Lonnie tried to kick at him, and raised her knees between their bodies to get him off of her. She tried to scream, but Jordan put too much pressure on her throat.
”Stop it!” he commanded, slapping her hands away.
Lonnie felt his other hand sliding up her thigh. Jordan fumbled with the buckle of her belt, jerking it from around her waist once he got it loose. Her purse! Where was her purse! Lonnie had a gun. She stretched out her arm and felt for it across the bed. All of a sudden, Jordan flipped her over and, still holding her by the neck, managed to force her jeans down past her hips.
She grabbed the other side of the bed and tried to pull away from him, but his grip tightened, and Lonnie couldn't breathe. He grabbed her panties and ripped them off of her.
h.e.l.l no! No! She couldn't let him do this! Not this time!
Jordan forced her again onto her back. ”Look at me!” he growled, pulling her to the edge of the bed. ”You look me in the face, Lonnie! You see me! It's me!”
Jordan was inside her. Lonnie opened her mouth to scream, but he'd cut the sound off with his hand. Angry, hot tears flushed from her eyes and burned trails down the sides of her face. Not again!
He lowered himself on top of her and as he did, his hold on her began to lessen. Jordan bore holes into her as he stared back at her. He opened his mouth and pressed it to hers. Jordan didn't blink. He didn't close his eyes. And in between his kisses, he whispered.
”Look at me, Lonnie.” He stroked her p.u.s.s.y with a slow, even rhythm. Jordan let go of her neck and as he drove deeper and deeper inside her, Lonnie let her legs relax, allowing them to part and open wide to accommodate him.
Jordan's kisses were intoxicating. She couldn't believe ... Lonnie couldn't believe how good he felt inside her. The bedding began to get soaked with her juices, flowing hot from between her legs.