“Mr. Northman?”
Eric gripped the roof of the town car before he cast a sideway glance at his caller. He gauged the two suited men behind him before he gave a slight nod to the doorman who was holding the passenger door of the black Bentley that was parked at the lobby of the North. He felt the mobile phone in his hand vibrate and read the message at the screen.
‘Must you always be fashionably late?’ was Sookie’s flippant text. He could almost imagine her rolling her eyes while she typed.
He fought the urge to smile as he schooled his features to remain impassive before he turned to the intrusive men who were threatening to cause even more delay.
“Yes?” he asked the man who addressed him.
“I am Special Agent Morales,” introduced the Hispanic-looking man with thick black hair and pointed nose. Agent Morales gestured toward his Caucasian companion who was about a foot shorter than Eric with freckled cheeks and red hair, “and this is Special Agent Harper.” Both men flashed their identification cards for the Viking’s perusal. Eric had spent enough time with G-men to know how to spot the real deal.
And these men were Feds, alright.
Eric didn’t offer a response as he waited for the men to state their case. His mind was already spinning as he sifted through the names of the Feds he had in his payroll. He might need Pam to make certain calls before he flies to Louisiana.
“We’re investigating the disappearance of Victor Madden,” Morales resumed, tucking in his ID wallet back in his jacket pocket.
“Victor’s missing?” Eric didn’t even miss a beat. Hell, if he were strapped to a lie detector, he doubted if his pulse would flinch.
The man who had been identified as Agent Harper stepped closer as he nodded his assent. “Mr. Madden has been reported missing yesterday by his associate William Compton when he failed to make it to his Summerville residence two nights ago. He was last seen boarding the corporate jet at Miami airport.”
“And this concerns me, why?” Eric asked with a mask of ennui.
“We’ve already contacted his employer, Russell Edgington, and some of Madden’s associates. Mr. Edgington could not give us any viable information about Madden’s whereabouts since he was out of the country. However, during our talk with both Mr. Edgington and Mr. Compton your name cropped up once or twice. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” asked Morales as politely as he could.
“Am I a suspect here, gentlemen?” Eric queried, arching his eyebrow challengingly. His lips curved into his patented smirk, not even bothering to disguise the insolence in his tone.
Morales shook his head defensively as he took half a step back. “No, no, Mr. Northman. Not a suspect, no, but a person of interest. We only want to cover all our bases. We certainly hope you don’t mind.”
“Actually I do. You see, I have a plane to catch and I’m already running late,” Eric said with thinly veiled irritation. As if on cue, his mobile phone vibrated in his palm. He held a finger to the G-men before he pivoted to check the message.
‘Tick tock, sweetheart.’
Eric held off a grunt as he ground his teeth. If it were another time he would have smiled from ear to ear at her term of endearment. But it wasn’t the time to indulge.
He typed a quick, ‘Something came up. Leave now. Will explain later. Sorry, sweetheart,’ reply, hoping his attempt at some saccharine humor would make her less likely to strangle him.
He brusquely chucked his phone in his trousers before he returned his attention to the invasive agents.
“Do you mind if we wait for my lawyer?”
The agents exchanged a curious look but it was Agent Morales who voiced out their concern. “I don’t think it’s necessary to lawyer up, Mr. Northman.”
Eric straightened his jacket and swept his hair back to his forehead.
“Oh, but I think it is,” he replied coolly. “I have a reputation to protect and it’s my prerogative to take whatever measure to protect my name.”
The Viking was bluffing. He knew he could get through the quasi interrogation without a hitch. He only wanted to buy time until Sookie was out of Nevada before they start asking questions about her.
Morales bobbed his head with a little apprehension.
“Shall we go up to my office, then?”
E/S
Jason picked Sookie up from Louis Armstrong airport in New Orleans. She had called her brother from Las Vegas before she and the rest of her security detail took off that morning without the Viking. Jake, along with Clancy (who was handpicked by Roman to join Purifoy as one of Sookie’s guards), had managed to remain incognito as they tailed the siblings in their rented SUV. Clancy and Jake had impressed Sookie with their ability to blend in while they kept an eye on her from a comfortable proximity. She tried to discreetly offer her sentry food and beverage – part of her Southern upbringing- but they declined immediately.
Sookie had only been away for over a month and the Stackhouse residence was already in dire need of a woman’s touch. The monochromatic white front porch was screaming for heavy-duty scrubbing and sweeping. Her gran’s sturdy rocking chair was, thankfully, still in good condition. It even looked like it was freshly painted. That rocking chair was Jason’s favorite furniture in the house. Probably because that was where their gran would sit waiting for him to come home for dinner with a cold glass of sweet tea.
She had also been relieved to find that her sibling was able to keep the cream colored magnolias alive and perky as they decorated the wrap-around porch surrounding the two-story French Acadian plantation.
Dust swirled in a colorful hue in the air and greeted her as she entered the quaint living room. The screen door shut behind her with a creak and she thought it could use a drop of oil. She had wasted no time inspecting her gran’s beloved kitchen. It was in better shape than she had anticipated. The pots and pans hanging by the sink were still in an organized chaos. The overhead cupboards were still intact albeit slightly ajar from all the excessive plates and bowls her gran had accumulated over the years. Even when Adele Stackhouse was still alive they barely used five sets of dishes. Seven, tops, when they had guests, which was as often as the blue moon. But Adele, bless her heart, could not get herself to give or throw away any of her precious tableware.
Sookie inspected grease around the stovetop and dried oil spatter on the wall above it – possibly from countless bacon-and-egg meals Jason had over the space of seven weeks she had been away. She didn’t mind though. Overall the house was worse than when she had left it but way better than she had expected – considering Jason was its only occupant. All it needed was some hardcore cleansing and scrubbing and it would be ready for her Viking.
‘Ready for Eric.’
Jason filled her in with all the latest gossips in their little sleepy town while Sookie started cleaning her way from the kitchen all the way to her bedroom. She had taken down the grimy curtains and changed her bed sheet and duvet (which were blessedly untouched while she was gone). Somehow, she couldn’t bear the thought of letting Eric sleep on soiled and tattered sheets.
‘Stop thinking about him!’ she berated herself. ‘You don’t even know if he’s still coming!’
She kept her mobile phone tethered to her side even when she was elbow deep in a bucket of soapy water that strongly reeked of bleach. Jason remained oblivious to her inner struggle as he took charge of the laundry. Sookie would duck through the back door or rush to the bathroom to check on her lifeless phone.
And it never failed to disappoint her every time.
E/S
“You look like you could use a drink, baby girl.” Lafayette’s lilting voice pulled Sookie out of her gloomy mood momentarily as she looked up from the table napkin she had been folding and unfolding for the past ten minutes. She beamed at her former employer who was the loudest and funniest person she knew. Lafayette Reynolds was the kind of person who could belt out Endless Love – nailing both Lionel Richie and Diana Ross parts – while throwing away drunks from his bar with one hand. He was incredibly fabulous like that and Sookie loved him like a brother – or sister, whatever works.
“Uh-oh, there’s the crazy Soo-Soo smile again,” Lafayette teased quirking a perfectly lined eyebrow at her. “C’mon, baby girl, tell momma, what’s botherin’ ya.”
Sookie grabbed her Diet Coke and took a few gulps as she stole a glance at her brother who was talking animatedly with Hoyt and Tray by the pool table.
It was a little past seven and the local watering hole was getting filled with men in checked shirts and work pants ordering beer by the pitcher. There were also women in their casual sundresses and lightweight cardigans, who were probably too tired to cook or just in serious need of a breather. It was a Friday after all and Sookie was expecting the crowd to grow as the hours passed. There were two new waitresses that Sookie didn’t recognize. But she was too depressed and too exhausted to care to get their names. Maybe tomorrow, she thought.
She fingered her phone inside her bag. ‘Ring, dammit!’ she screamed mentally at the damned contraption. But it was all in vain.
Its silence was the loudest thing inside the noisy bar.
She texted Eric another message (the eighth message she had left him since she had landed in Nola). She would stop at eight, she noted. Eight was still an acceptable number of text messages a girl could send her boyfriend without seeming too obsessive in accordance with Louisiana law. In Nevada, five was the maximum.
It would be the last message she would send him, she stressed. Her fragile ego was already taking a beating with seven unreturned messages. Eight would be her limit. Because anything higher than that would put her in the same category as Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. Or Nora Gainesborough in the Northman Chronicles.
She thought a succinct ‘hi’ would do to remind him of her presence. She also sent a short one to Jake, who was a few feet from her, having Lafayette’s famous burger and a bottle of beer with Clancy.
‘You guys, okay?’
‘Don’t mind us. We’re good. And stop frowning,’ was Jake’s quick response.
She slanted her head and shot him a small reassuring smile before she turned her attention back to Lafayette. She sipped her soda before she tilted the bottle, moving her thumb over the label wiping tiny beads of water across it.
“Are ya gonna ‘fess up or do I hafta to make you drunk first, sugar?” Lafayette kept prodding.
“Confess what?” Arlene chimed in as the barmaid snuck up from behind the bar, refilling a mug of lager from the tap. Arlene was a thirty something redhead with deep eyes and strong cheekbones. She had a thick Pennsylvania accent which made her drag out her syllables.
“Aww, Sook’s prolly all sulky because her date didn’t show up,” Maudette butted in. She was a lot younger than Arlene but still a couple of years older than Sookie. Her ample breasts and slim waist paired with her long wavy brown locks and green eyes made her a constant hit with the local patrons.
Her coquettish demeanor didn’t hurt either. And once upon a time, not too long ago, she (like most girls in town) had been under Jason’s spell.
Maudette took the freshly filled mugs off the counter and lined them on the tray that she was balancing with one hand.
Sookie shook her head before she started tuning her old co-workers out like white noise. It wasn’t the first time she had done that. Arlene and Maudette were rabid gossipmongers. If someone threw them a bone, it wouldn’t be long before they turn it into a monster with a life of its own.
“At least tell us if he’s a he,” Arlene quipped as she wiped her damp hands on her apron that was wrapped in front of her black skimpy shorts.
Sookie raised an eyebrow at the redhead. “I didn’t realize there was ever a debate?”
Arlene raised her palms out and waved them in front of Sookie as a form of surrender. “Hey, Sook, I’m the one who told ’em you ain’t swingin’ that way.”
“Them?” Sookie asked pointedly casting an accusatory glare at Maudette then at Lafayette.
Maudette quickly shrugged the guilt written all over her face and thrust her chin up. “Can you really blame us, hon? You haven’t had a boyfriend since birth and you turned down Alcide. Alcide, Sook! No straight woman in her right mind will ever turn down that walking sex on stick!”
“You knew about that?” Sookie was aghast. Why the hell would Alcide tell them about his little gaffe?
“Don’t be mad at Alcide, Sook, Jason’s the one who couldn’t keep his voice down when poor Alcide told him you rejected his proposal,” Arlene said, her voice dropping to a whisper. Something, apparently, her brother wasn’t capable of doing.
Lafayette cut them all off when he stabbed his hand in the air – fingers splayed displaying his long glittery purple nails. “Fuck off bitches, if I wanna hear old news I’d watch tee-vee. What I’s wanna know is who Soo-Soo’s mystery man is.”
Sookie felt a blush creeping up as she looked down at her bowl of mixed nuts. The phrase ‘What happened in Vegas,’ had never been any more applicable for Sookie. It seemed as though the news of her relationship with Eric had taken the slow boat to Louisiana. And Sookie didn’t know if she were relieved or disappointed. Probably both. Because she was still conjuring up enough courage to break the news to her volatile sibling.
What could someone actually say to describe her Viking? She doubted there was a single word in the dictionary that could sum up Eric Northman. Even if she were to say all the adjectives that popped in her head to describe her insatiable lover, she doubted they would be enough. More importantly, would they believe her?
Eric Northman was someone she could bring to a show and tell and she was certain she would get an A plus just for showing up. He was her trophy boyfriend, she thought as she gave herself a mental high five for bagging the top prize.
She cleared her throat audibly. “He’s… um, nice, I guess,” she replied with a timid expression.
“Nice?” Arlene and Maudette screeched in unison.
“Fuck no! Nice?!” Lafayette shook his head vigorously, wiggling his index finger while clicking his tongue. “Nice ain’t good enough. Nice is what a girl will say when she’s dating someone as ugly as a homemade sin.”
Her former boss spun from his barstool and dashed to his office at the back of the kitchen. Before Sookie and the rest of her friends could speculate what he was about to do, the vivacious bar owner came back swinging his hips exaggeratedly. Trapped under his armpit was one of his cheap gossip magazines. He slammed the trashy periodical on the bar and flipped the pages until he found the one he was looking for.
Sookie almost spat out the soda she was chugging when Lafayette pointed at a candid photo of her and Eric. It was the one taken at the Grand Canyon barely a month ago. It was the same photo she had seen on Pam’s tablet. The one Pam said would never see the light of day. Evidently, it had seen the light of Louisiana sun.
She straightened the page and stared at her image. Her face was pixelated and she was eternally grateful for that. Or… was she?
Lala tapped his nail at the flimsy page. “This is a ten. Actually he is a god. But for all intents and purposes let’s say he’s a ten. Now tell me the man tappin’ your ass is at least a five. Because if I have your face and your body I won’t be settlin’ for anythin’ less than a seven.”
Sookie was rendered speechless. The anxiety came back in full force and hit her all at once. They had only been separated for half a day and she was already missing him the way the girl in the Twilight series missed her vampire in book two.
She bit her lower lip as she tried to find her voice back. She cleared her throat while she traced his face with the tip of her finger across the worn out page.
“Now that is a walking sex on stick.” She heard Arlene mumble almost inaudibly.
‘My thoughts exactly,’ Sookie agreed silently.
“Hey, I haven’t seen this issue yet!” Maudette exclaimed putting the tray down and grabbing the magazine off the wooden bar. “New girl, huh? Wonder why they messed up her picture when she’s prolly like the rest of the dumb bimbos he’s dated.”
Arlene peeked at the magazine over Maudette’s shoulder. “I won’t mind bein’ called a dumb bimbo as long as I’ll be his bimbo.”
“Well you’ve got the dumb part already covered, hookah,” Lafayette sassed, earning him a sharp slap on the shoulder from the redhead.
Sookie gaped at them. She wanted to tell them it was her and that she was no dumb bimbo. She wanted to scream profanities at them and tell them to keep their fantasies to themselves because the man they were ogling at was hers. But her ability to speak continued to elude her.
She spied Jake snickering with Clancy, obviously eavesdropping on their conversation, and shot him a warning glare. He shrugged and gave her a look that meant ‘Just tell them already.’ And Sookie knew he was right.
She wrung her hands, wracking her brain for the fitting opener.
Friendly? ‘Sorry, sweetie, but I heard he’s already seeing someone exclusively… me.’ Sookie cringed. Oh god, that was the kind of lame she wouldn’t even hear on Glee.
Or hostile? ‘Wipe your drool, bitches, he’s mine!’ Nope. Not like that either. That was so Kathy Bates.
Before Sookie could come up with anything witty in her coming-out-of-the-Eric-closet speech her brother came barging to her side all nervous and exasperated. He didn’t beat around the bush when he asked her to proxy for one of the bridesmaids who couldn’t make it to Louisiana by tomorrow.
Sookie’s shoulders sagged before she took her phone out. She couldn’t help but sigh when she found her inbox empty.
‘You better be as miserable as me because it’s your fault I’m in this godawful mood. You’ve spoiled me rotten.’ She typed frantically and hit send before she could realize how pathetic she must have sounded.
E/S
Sookie didn’t know how long she had been staring at the vaulted ceiling of her bedroom. She turned to the bedside table and yanked the old desk clock. It was half past eleven and she almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of her situation. Eleven thirty in Las Vegas was six thirty in Bon Temps. Could she be any more pitiable?
She swung off the bed and pulled her pink robe off the armchair of her vanity dresser. She put it on and tightened the sash around her waist before she peeked at her window to check on her guards. She could see Jake’s heavily-tattooed arm hanging loosely by the open window of the passenger seat, a cigarette tucked between his fingers.
She had offered them the couch since Jason would be in Shreveport with Hoyt and Alcide for his bachelor party and would not be back until tomorrow morning. But Jake and Clancy, as expected, refused.
“I don’t think Mr. Northman will appreciate the thought of you alone in the house with two men,” Jake had said. Standing vigil was the easiest part of their job description, they added.
Sookie shut the drapes before she marched downstairs to fetch a glass of water. She was on her way back to her room when she caught a glimpse of Michele’s wedding dress inside a garment bag on top of her gran’s old bed.
Because the chapel was closer to the farmhouse, Michele and the rest of her entourage would be using the Stackhouse residence as their dressing room tomorrow. All the dresses were hanging neatly at the improvised clothes’ rack in the master’s bedroom. Sookie’s bridesmaid attire was sent to the seamstress in Shreveport for a few adjustments since Sookie was a last-minute replacement.
Among the sea of tulle and lace, she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off the ivory toned gown that was meant solely for the bride.
She lifted it by the hanger and stared at it simple magnificence. ‘What are you doing, Sookie?’ a voice inside her head intoned.
She would never be able to wear a gown as beautiful as this, she thought to herself. She would never get married. She had already made her peace with that. The Stackhouse curse would end with her. Besides, there was no one to tie herself with.
‘There’s Eric.’ She wasn’t sure if the voice were encouraging her or mocking her. The pessimist in her said it was the latter.
She could honestly say that Eric was the love of her life. But could he promise her forever?
‘Don’t be a moron, Sookie, there’s no such thing as forever.’
She must really be delusional if she were arguing with her own thoughts. Without pausing for another internal debate she put the glass down the bedside table and peeled the plastic wrapping. The garment bag crinkled at the floor followed by her pink towel robe.
She was ready to plead temporary insanity tomorrow because tonight she would be the bride that she knew she would never be.
E/S
She gaped in muted awe as she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror at the back of the built-in closet in her room. She ran her hands through the delicate flower stitching embossed on the front of the pearly white creation, letting her fingers glide across the soft fabric of the chiffon empire cut strapless gown.
It was a fortunate coincidence that the Sheriff’s daughter was the same size as her. Although Sookie was more endowed in the bosom department, Michele’s pregnancy must have given her bust the needed boost and it made the dress all the more perfect for the Southerner. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone but she was beginning to comprehend the allure of matrimony. The silky fabric that looked like snow against her skin, the train that seemed to dance and follow even her littlest of movements and the veil, oh, the sheer tulle netting the covered her blush. She swept the veil back before she carefully pried the fake tiara off her head and placed it on top of her old dresser. She could do without the veil, she mused.
If there were ever a list of clothes she hadn’t envisioned herself in, a bridal gown would be at the top of that list, followed by animal print bikini.
She pulled her hair up in a messy chignon to reveal her neck and toned shoulder blades. Unfortunately that simple gesture also displayed the small bruises at her collarbone. A cluster of souvenirs from her passionate night with her Viking. Her heart reflexively leaped to her throat.
‘Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.’ She grazed her fingers across the skin where the Viking had stamped his insignia. She imagined Eric grinning wolfishly and giving her the ‘I told you there’s no escaping me’ stare. She sighed. She didn’t even have the energy to challenge the imaginary Viking.
Imaginary Eric was right. She couldn’t keep her mind off of him. ‘God, I missed you.’
She backed away from the mirror and raised the bottom of her dress so as not to drag the medium-length train across the wooden floor before she twirled like a princess.
Five more minutes, she told herself. Five more minutes and she would take it off. Five more minutes and she would forget her inane fantasy. Five more minutes and she would accept her bitter reality that she would never be anyone’s bride.
Five more minutes and…
“Call me superstitious but I think it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the wedding.” A familiar smug voice drawled behind her and she instinctively jumped back and whipped her head so fast she thought it would snap off of her neck.
Her stomach twisted into a knot as she stared at the Viking leaning casually against the frame of her bedroom door. He was wearing dark skinny jeans, gray V-neck shirt under his black leather motorcycle jacket. His hair was swept up to his forehead making his damning smirk even more damnable.
‘Who wears leather in August in Bon Temps?’ she thought comically. His attire would have drawn mockery from the locals but because he was Eric ‘I-can-pull-anything-off’ Northman, it looked condemnably perfect.
Sookie pressed her lips into a tight line as she composed herself before she slowly whisked her whole body to face him. It was a conscious effort to breathe but she was not about to let him know that. Not after he had given her the cold treatment the whole fucking day.
She mirrored his devilish expression, making his eyebrow quirk upward just a little bit.
“Well, then won’t you be a dear and give me a holler when Skarsgard gets here,” she pealed ever so sweetly, batting her thick lashes for effect.
E/S
Eric shoved his hands in his pockets before he strutted toward her, every step excruciatingly slow and calculated. His eyes were rapacious as they raked over his sly lover. From her unkempt bun to her moist lips. From her chest that kept moving up and down as she heaved deeply through the length of her dress. That fucking white vestal dress that clung to all the right places and hugged all the delicious curves.
He wanted to freeze time so he could just stare at her without looking like a deranged psychopath. And the sad part was that the creepy psycho inside him was the only thing reining him in. Because every fiber of his body was goading him to take her. Rip that torturous dress and take her now.
‘Down, boy,’ he willed his erection down before he arranged his features to remain blank.
“Haven’t you learned anything from last night, Miss Stackhouse?” he hushed. There was an underlying threat in his tone as his eyes went back up to her face.
Sookie swallowed thickly but she managed to keep her silence.
“You know it’s not safe for you to toy with me,” he added in a voice that sounded like a husky growl that made her eyes instantly darken.
He could tell that her breath was getting ragged and that thought that he could elicit such reaction from her was immensely enjoyable.
His lips tugged at the side to reveal a lopsided smirk. If he weren’t watching her closely he would not have noticed Sookie stifle a gasp. The sudden whoosh of the bottom her dress let him know she was pressing her thighs together. He suppressed the growl that was building up from his chest.
Eric took another step forward while her feet remained rooted to the floor. His hand flew to her forehead to swipe the loose curls and tucked them behind her ear. He stopped himself from grinning when he felt her breath catch as she locked her eyes with his, trying to match the intensity of his gaze but falling just a little short.
His fingers slid down from her earlobe to the length of her neck before he lifted her chin with his knuckle.
“Nice dress,” he purred as his other hand caressed her bare shoulder.
“Thanks. I’ll be sure to tell Michele you liked it,” she replied croakily.
Eric ignored her reply as he grazed the top of her breasts with the back of his hand making her skin prickle. “You know… I haven’t fucked a blushing bride before.”
Her eyes widened as his words sank in. She shook her head vigorously making her hair fall and cascade to her shoulder. “Don’t get any ideas, buster! Michele will kill me!” She backed away from him pushing her palm against his chest to stop his advances.
Eric’s smirk broke into a feral grin as he pushed forward until she was backed against the draped window. “Do you really think I’ll let anyone wear this again after I’ve seen you in it?”
His gaze was scorching, challenging, unrelenting. There was no fucking way Jason’s simpleton fiancée would get married in this dress. No fucking way. Even if he had to buy every single bridal gown in this podunk town to replace the one Sookie was in.
“Besides I don’t think this…” one hand slithered to her back, searching for the zipper that held the dress together, “will survive what I’m about to do to you.”
The pad of his thumb glazed over her parted lips and she surprised him when she flicked her tongue out to lick it. He groaned when he felt the aching bulge strain inside his pants and he immediately regretted wearing something so very constricting.
“Michele will never forgive me,” she rasped as her palm that was meant to prevent him from getting closer trailed upward and tried to peel his jacket off.
Eric drew back a little to take off his leather jacket and drop it unceremoniously on the floor. “In-laws are meant to hate each other anyway,” he volleyed back with a shrug.
She smiled as she pushed her hands up beneath his shirt, tracing the taut muscle of his torso. “I will burn in hell for this, Eric.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle while he yanked his shirt over his head. “About time you join the club.”
“I hate you,” she grumbled as she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.
He dipped his head to rest his temple against hers. “I love you,” he husked.
Sookie had nothing more to say as their lips collided and their tongues danced furiously. Eric buried his hand in her hair as Sookie gripped his shoulder for better leverage. He pulled her closer with a hand against her back. It snaked down the back of her dress all the while cursing his inability to locate the seemingly invisible zipper or the miniscule button that was keeping the dress intact.
Her mouth left his with a gasp before she started placing wet kisses along with his collarbone down to his chest.
“Sookie…” he murmured breathily as he struggled to get her out of her virginal gown. She moaned in response and it didn’t seem enough for Eric as he cupped her throat lovingly and tilted her head upward to capture her lips. He felt the soft buzzing of his phone inside his jeans but he couldn’t even pretend to care. He had already played along with all the bullshit in Vegas. Nothing and no one could keep him away from her anymore.
“What the fuck is goin’ on here!”
Well, except for him.
Eric didn’t need to turn around to know who had made that irritable noise. And judging by the sound of the heavy footsteps outside he could discern her brother wasn’t alone.
Sookie made a sound that was a cross between a squeal and a shriek before she untangled her arms around Eric and jerked back. Eric reflexively pushed Sookie behind him and put a protective arm around her. Jake, Clancy, Roman and the bastard Alcide scampered behind Jason, looking over the older Stackhouse’s shoulder, wearing similar wary expressions.
“Jason! What the hell! What are you doin’ here?” she yelled.
“I live here!” Jason screamed back, pressing his palms against the doorframe to steady himself. “What is he doin’ here? And why in fuck’s name are you suckin’ face with this motherfucker!” He pointed an accusing finger at Eric, while elbowing the four muscular men behind him.
“Keep your voice down, Jason,” Sookie spat through gritted teeth as she tried to push past Eric. She clutched the front of her dress in an effort to cover her half exposed breasts. “There are too many men in this house. Anyone who is not a Stackhouse or a Northman, please get out.”
Eric’s gaze landed on the hulking Alcide who was struggling to get in the room and the Viking didn’t even try to hide the satisfied smile that graced his face upon hearing Sookie’s oh-so-charming command. He gave Alcide a slight nod as if to shoo him before he ordered his guards to leave as well.
“Hmm… I thought you couldn’t get any sexier in that dress but you seemed to be keen on proving me wrong,” he hushed behind her before he weaved his arm around her waist.
“Get your fucking hands off her!” Jason yelled. His fingers curled into tight fists at the sides.
Jason’s bewilderment was mildly entertaining for the Viking but he didn’t travel a couple thousand miles to be entertained and her brother’s ignorance was getting utterly annoying.
“Oh please,” Eric said with unflinching arrogance. “I think the plausible deniability of me fucking your sister is no longer plausible, don’t you think?”
E/S
Sookie sat at the edge of her single mattress bed as she watched Jason pace back and forth. In the end, she had to ask Eric to wait for them downstairs because Jason was incapable of forming a coherent phrase without breaking into a fit.
“Every night, Sook, every fuckin’ night since I found out I’m gonna be a daddy, I sit in the rocking chair and ask gran one thing. One thing. For my baby to be a boy.”
Jason saw his sister’s head snap at him and he put a finger in front of her to silence her protests. “It’s not because I’m a pig.” He snorted. “Well, it is because I’m a pig. I believe in karma, Sook. I believe it’s a hateful, vindictive bitch. And I’m afraid that if I have a girl she’ll be a trouble magnet too and she’ll pay for my sins.”
He flashed her a wry smile. “It never occurred to me to ask gran to look out for you. Because I know you’re the one with all the smarts.” He grabbed the back of his head and let out a loud an exasperated grunt. “What the hell happened, Sook? A month ago you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with that asshat now you’re swapping spit with him in our house!”
Sookie remained mum as she sank heavily into the bed.
“What did he do? Tell me!” Jason yelled. Spittle flew out from the side of his mouth. Then, a flicker of recognition crossed his face before his lips twisted into a scowl. “He’s the one who paid off the debt, isn’t he? Is that it?”
He saw her stiffen and lift her gaze back to him. “Is that what you really think?” she asked in a tight voice. “Did you really think I’d stoop that low to get out of debt? You think I’m that shallow?”
Jason recoiled, feeling the burning hate in her stare.
“My entire adult life revolved around you and gran and the memory of dad, Jason. I’ve resigned myself to a life of solitude because I thought that was the card I was dealt with. Do you know why I just sleep every fourth of July?” She stood up and inched toward him.
“Because, unlike you, I have no girlfriends I can drown my sorrows with. Because you fucked most of the girls I know and they couldn’t stand to be friends with the sister of the guy who messed them up. But did I ever complain?” she said with unblinking eyes. “I never did. Because it never really bothered me. I told myself didn’t need them. I just need you.”
Jason was lost for words. He didn’t realize that the spiteful karma bitch had already hounded his sibling. And the fact that he was only hearing about it now made him even more ashamed of his cluelessness.
“This is the first time in my life I did something for me. Not for you. Not for dad. But for me. Can you really deprive me of that?”
Jason shook his head disbelievingly. “He’s not right for you, Sook! Have you taken a look at that bastard? He’s me but with a lot of dough. That makes him worse.”
“He loves me!”
“Alcide loves you!” he spat. Why couldn’t she realize she deserved someone better? Someone who would not leave her and hurt her in a heartbeat. Why couldn’t she see Alcide was her perfect match?
Sookie huffed condescendingly. “Alcide doesn’t love me. Do you know what I see whenever he looks at me? Pity, Jason. Not love,” she said as she advanced toward him. “I love, Eric.”
Jason’s mouth formed an O-shape as his eyes widened. “You can’t be serious?”
“How can I not? He’d seen me at my worst. Saw all the ugliness in me and still found me beautiful,” she said tilting her head. “I need him, Jason. I need him because I can’t imagine anything else without him in it. I love him. So much. So damn much that I’m going to use my Corbett card on this.”
‘Mother shithead!‘ Jason thought wildly. If he thought his sister had been pulling some kind of a sick prank on him before, he didn’t now. Corbett card was sacred to Sookie. To both of them. It was like the Pope himself. Even when Sookie had been caught gambling in an underground poker game in Shreveport and had spent a night in Caddo Parish jail, she didn’t use her trump card to coerce Jason not to tell on her.
“You’re wasting it on him?” Jason prodded, still in a state of utter perplexity.
“Nope,” Sookie replied, shaking her head in dissent. “No questions, remember? That’s how it works. Blind obedience. United front. That’s it. No buts, no ifs.”
He let out a brittle chuckle as he sat down on the worn-out ottoman in front of her dresser. “We have no more Corbetts, Sook. You know what that means, right? We’ll have to find someone else to pull the plug when one of us is brain dead.”
“I think that’s what DNRs are for,” she said with a soft smile.
Jason draped his arm over her shoulder, tugging Sookie closer. He never thought he’d see the day he would actually have to let his baby sister go. And he thought he was the one getting married.
E/S
Eric’s feet tapped against the hard wood floor of the living room as he glanced at his diver’s watch and realized that it had been a little over twenty minutes since he had been evicted from Sookie’s room. ‘What the hell is taking her so long?’
He stood up and started toward the masonry fireplace that was the centerpiece of the quaint receiving area that was peppered with all kinds of trinkets. Picture frames of different shapes and sizes stood in a neat column on top of the brick mantle. He picked up the one that featured the young Sookie Stackhouse. Her toothy smile was unmistakable. She was presumably eight to nine years old and she was riding a tacky bike that was obviously too small for her. A bigger boy with blonde curls, who was undoubtedly her brother, was behind her flexing his bony arms like a wrestler.
Eric placed the photo back to its place before he took the older frame behind it. It must be her grandmother in her twenties with a man who had his arm draped around her shoulder. Most likely her grandfather. But there was another man in the photo. Because of the low resolution he couldn’t quite make out their features.
One thing was for certain, though, Sookie was as beautiful as her gran. And he wished he could have met her.
The thick humid Southern air blew inside the windows and hit his face. He welcomed it like a warm embrace. He took his phone out to check for emails from Pam about the Feds. Those government bozos were too easy. Eric didn’t even need to call his contact in Quantico to fend them off. Victor Madden’s disappearance was a seamless mission. He was very careful not to leave a trail of breadcrumbs in Madden’s wake.
The Spaniard had been very thorough. According to Tony after his 57-second phone call with Felipe last night, Madden had been in Sabaneta infirmary twice for trying to take his own life by gnawing at his wrist.
‘Pathetic little weasel.’
If everything went according to plan during the Marquez-Pacquiao fight, maybe Eric would feel charitable enough to slip Madden a switchblade for a clean cut to his wrist. End his misery.
He marched toward the window and peeked through the threadbare curtains. Alcide, the sneeze, was still outside having a pissing contest with Roman. Eric would have loved to walk out of there and have a little chat with him. But that could wait. All he wanted was to climb the stairs and be a fly on the wall in her bedroom.
But Eric had been burned once for eavesdropping on the Stackhouse siblings. He would not do it again.
‘Never,’ he reiterated. He glanced up at the foyer and grunted. ‘Oh, fuck it!’
With featherlight steps, the ones he used to sneak in on her earlier, he dashed upstairs and pressed his ears to the door.
“I knew it. I fuckin’ knew it. Didn’t I tell you to watch out for his dashing smile? And did you listen?” Eric heard Jason murmur.
Sookie’s muffled chuckle was music to Eric’s ears. It seemed as though the worst part was over. “I never really stood a chance, did I?” He heard her quip.
‘No, Sookie. It’s me who didn’t stand a chance.’
A short pause.
“He’s gonna break your heart,” Jason said in a matter-of-fact tone. Eric resisted the urge to storm inside and grab the male Stackhouse by the collar. What the fuck was that asshole talking about? Clearly he wasn’t aware of his sister’s ability to crush Eric herself.
“I sure hope you’re wrong, Jase, cause there’s not much else I can do now. It’s already his to break.”
‘Ho-ly yes!’
Eric pressed his ear harder, his breathing getting heavier. Did he hear her right?
“I think I’m gonna need to give him the speech then,” Jason muttered.
“What speech?”
“The if-you-fucking-break-my-sister’s-heart-I’m-gonna-find-you-and-gut-you-like-a-pig speech.”
“You will not touch him, Jason! Not a hair on his head, am I clear?” Sookie screeched and Eric felt his ears burn.
Jason laughed gustily. The kind of laughter she had whenever she was teasing him.
“Well, I’m a son of a bitch. He really had you, didn’t he?”
“Remember all those times we asked gran why she didn’t remarry after granddaddy died?”
Another pregnant lull.
“She’d tell us granddaddy Earl was it,” Jason replied softly.
“Eric’s my Earl, Jase. Eric’s it.”
And Eric could hear the smile in her voice. That was all he needed to know before he practically flew downstairs.
Now if he could only hide his own smile.
Cast:
eys1214 