Rush of Redemption (Rush Series #2) Read online

  RUSH of REDEMPTION

  (Rush Series #2)

  By LR Potter

  Copyright 2013 LR Potter

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyediting and Cover Art by:

  Carolyn Pinard

  http://carolynpinardconsults.wordpress.com/

  Photos used with permission by iStock Photography

  Acknowledgements

  As a writer, it is never clear which people, places, or events will inspire and drive us to create a story. A special acknowledgement goes out to the many readers who wanted and requested more about Rush and Trinity. A very special thanks to my mom and sister who helped work out some of the finer details; and also to my husband who helped work out the conclusion. As always, a very, very special thanks to my editor and friend who puts up with the crazy on a daily basis!

  ~~ Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, or glory in the flower, we will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.

  William Wordsworth~~

  Prologue

  “He met with her today… at the museum,” the fierce-looking man told the man seated behind his massive desk.

  The seated man, steepled his fingers in front of his face as he contemplated the information. “So… he knows about the baby?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The seated man sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, causing the aged brown leather to creak. “That’s not good. Not good at all. He won’t be easily dissuaded. He’ll feel responsible towards her. He’s too much like his father that way.” The man scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling the grooved lines which proved his age. “Keep a watch on him and see what happens. Who knows, maybe the situation will resolve itself.”

  “Yes, sir,” the fierce-looking man responded before quickly exiting the room.

  Rubbing his forefinger over his bottom lip, the seated man mumbled to himself, “I’ll never allow this to happen…”

  Chapter One

  A soft tickle against her face drew Trinity Grace from her slumber. Absently, she lifted a hand to brush against the annoyance. As the heavy cloak of sleep began to slip away, she became aware of the man pressed firmly against her back with his arm draped protectively over her protruding belly. She felt his breath blowing her dark hair gently against her face as he exhaled in his sleep. As she stared without seeing at the wall facing her, panic began to claw its way up her spine and flow down into the depths of her belly. She tensed against it, causing the unborn child nestled there to kick out in response. She felt the arm around her tighten further, trying to encompass and protect, she supposed, even in his sleep.

  She shifted onto her back carefully so as not to wake him. Her breath caught in her throat, as it always did when she took in his austerely beautiful face. In sleep, his face was relaxed and his dark hair was mussed. His full, sensual lips were parted slightly, and past memories of what those lips could do to her made her shiver slightly. Those lips could cause such contrasting sensations, he’d used them to kiss her softly and to gently nudge her to open up to him; but he also used them to bruise her mouth when his need become frantic and wild. Just now, in this moment, she didn’t know which she preferred.

  She longed to raise a hand and trace those lips and the beautiful lines of his god-like face, but she wanted to study him without his watchful, all-seeing eyes on her. She smiled in remembrance of the awe he’d exhibited when he’d felt the baby kick gently against his hand. How he’d fallen to his knees in the middle of the museum and had laid his cheek against her belly to feel it again. How he’d kissed her belly and whispered words of love and promised protection to their unborn son.

  The immediate smile on her lips faded as darker thoughts began to skip across her mind. Like a slide projector, images of her past with him flickered across her memory: the day she’d first met him at the art gallery; then seeing him at the museum; the first time they’d made love in his club in Vail; him rushing back when her office at the gallery had been ransacked; the numerous times they’d made love in this bed, in the pool, and in the hot tub. Not that those thoughts were painful, they were just the precursor for the ones that were.

  From there the pictures did became painful: the many times she’d woken in the hospital to find him by her side, only to have him tell her goodbye over and over again; the night at the charity ball when he’d shown up with a reigning beauty queen – the same night she’d discovered she was pregnant. She forced her mind to stop. She couldn’t go on, it was too painful. What had she done? She swallowed hard as torrents of emotions flooded her. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest. This was the man who’d deserted her when she’d needed him most. The man who’d ensnared her with false words and fake desire. How could she trust him?

  Flashes of the pictures she’d seen of him in recent months in the society pages with a string of different woman crushed the air from her lungs. While she’d been left damaged and broken, he’d seemed to move on with ease. They meant nothing, he’d told her about the string of women. Was that what he’d tell whoever followed her… that she’d meant nothing? She swallowed hard at the thought of being so casually cast aside… yet again.

  The fluttering of his dark eyelashes was her only warning that Rush Drayton was waking. Those same lashes opened quickly to reveal the brilliance of his hazel eyes. As sleep receded and his eyes focused on her, a slow, sexy smile crossed his lips, making her smile involuntarily in response. Her emotions were bouncing all over the place. She loved him… wanted him desperately. But could she ever truly trust this man? She knew he wanted to be a father to their unborn son, but where did she fall in the mix? He’d said he wanted her to stay with him forever, but fear filled her. Words were easy to say in the heat of a moment, but when the rubber met the road, where would he be?

  “Hi,” he whispered in the early, grey morning light. “You okay?”

  Was she okay? She didn’t know so she just nodded her head.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured.

  “Are you?” she asked tentatively, as fear curled its icy tendrils around her heart.

  Rush edged her back onto her side so he could spoon her from behind once more.

  “Yes, very glad,” he murmured sleepily against her ear as he snuggled into her. “It’s where you belong.”

  She lay very still until she felt his even breath against her cheek once more. The persistence of a nagging headache had her slowly easing from underneath his arm. She knew she needed to grab some Tylenol quickly to try and stay the oncoming migraine. It’d been hell dealing with the migraines during her entire pregnancy, as she’d not been able to take her usual medication.

  Slipping successfully away without waking him, she pulled on the grey linen, button-up shirt he’d worn earlier. Even being this far along in her pregnancy, the shirt hung on her rounded frame. She grasped fistfuls of the fabric between her hands and pressed it against her face as she inhaled deeply. His scent engulfed her and she sighed. Oh, she had it bad. She thought of all the girlfriends she’d had who’d swooned over a man and how she’d rolled her eyes at them. But she finally understood how one man could completely overwhelm a once-rational
woman.

  With a wry shake of her head, she went into the living room of Rush’s vast house and quickly rummaged the tablets from her purse. She glanced around his immaculate kitchen, with its granite countertops and dark cherry cabinetry and began opening cabinet doors until she found a glass. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and poured it, swallowed the pills, and put water on to boil for a much-needed cup of tea. Once the tea was steeped, she squeezed a small portion of honey into the brew. Moving idly into the living room, she stood in front of the massive set of curtain-less windows which gave a spectacular view of the river. At this time of morning, the river was littered with only a few small fishing boats. The grayish-brown water lapped soundlessly against the bank, its surface smooth and glass-like.

  As she slowly sipped her tea, her mind once again returned to the man asleep in the sex-rumpled bed. The pain she’d felt when she’d discovered his deception stabbed sharply against her chest just as much today as it had on the day she’d discovered it. She shuddered at the remembered devastation inflicted upon her at the hands of those she’d trusted the most in her life: her controlling father; a manipulating Rush Drayton; and her vengeful godfather, James Franklin. They each in turn had played a part in turning her life upside down. In a period of weeks, she’d spent more time in a hospital bed than she’d spent in the entirety of her life. All of them, along with Rush’s grandfather, had targeted her as a pawn in their very cruel game. Their paths of destruction, meant to hurt or extort each other, had all led irrevocably to her. She wondered how she’d survived it… or if indeed she actually had.

  Unable to stop them, the memories of the past - the memories she’d striven so hard to forget – once more began to flood her in a mindless torrent of pain and devastation. Images of her destroyed office and bedroom; of her treasured paintings, lying mangled on the floor; images of being attacked and left in the alley; and images of being run down in the street and left there, bruised and broken, like a dog.

  Her tea sloshed onto the coffee table as she set it down with careless and uncoordinated fingers, but she paid it no mind. She wrapped her arms around herself protectively as the most hurtful memories of all availed themselves. Memories of going to Rush’s office and confronting him with what she’d learned and having him affirm their validity; memories of her SUV exploding outside his building while she’d watched helplessly and unknowingly; of being kidnapped and tied once again to a damned chair, just as she’d endured as a child. And memories of taking the bullet from James Franklin in an effort to protect the people she loved, who apparently hadn’t had the same affinity for her: her father and Rush Drayton.

  He’d told her the day she’d confronted him with the truth that he loved her… had always loved her, but it’d been a lie. He’d whispered those same words to her just last night. Why would she… how could she now trust his declaration of love?

  She whimpered at the sudden excruciating pain the memories evoked. Just as suddenly, sharp tendrils of pain began to expand behind her eyes. Her doctor had warned her about avoiding stress, she could definitely see why now. Her stomach became queasy as the pain intensified. Wanting desperately to be in her own bedroom with the black-out curtains pulled tight, she called for a taxi and slipped quietly back into the bedroom to retrieve her clothes. She dressed quickly in the guest-room and left a note for Rush by the phone, telling him she wasn’t feeling well and had gone home. She slipped on a pair of sunglasses to help alleviate some of the pain the sun caused before stepping out of Rush’s house and quietly shutting the door behind her.

  Fifteen minutes later, she stumbled into her apartment and blessedly shut the door. She kicked off her shoes and padded to her bedroom. She shut her bedroom door to stop any light from coming in before closing her curtains tight. The pain in her head ratcheted up in intensity so that she was forced to sit on the bed’s edge and grasp her head in her hands. Her stomach roiled but she was afraid if she threw up, the pain in her head would be unbearable. With shaky limbs, she lay flat and pressed her pillow over her head, hoping the pressure would stay the pain.

  Tears soaked her pillow as the pain continued to grow. With each beat of her heart, the pain slammed in her head. How much pain could she take before it killed her? Or at the very least, drove her insane? Far, far off in the distance, she heard her cellphone ring out, but she ignored it. After what seemed forever, she drifted off into an uneasy sleep where she continued to whimper and thrash about as the pain beat down on her.

  ~*~

  Rush Drayton reached out a hand and felt the empty space where Trinity had only recently been. He buried his face in her pillow and could still smell her scent. Happiness came over him quickly. He’d gotten her back. He couldn’t believe it. He sat up and rubbed a hand over his scruffy face. He wondered where she’d gotten off to. Rising, he called out, but didn’t get a response. Unease settled over him. He slipped on a pair of cotton pajama bottoms and walked quickly up the hall and called again. Panic settled in his chest. He searched every room and didn’t find her. Where had she gone? He didn’t even have her phone number or know where she lived. Why would she leave?

  He went quickly to the phone and then he saw the note she’d left. Not feeling well, he muttered to himself. What did that mean? The panic he’d felt earlier intensified. Why hadn’t she wakened him if she hadn’t been feeling well? Picking up his cellphone, he quickly scrolled through his contact list until he found the number he was after.

  After a couple of rings, Hunter Amhearst answered groggily, “Amhearst.”

  “Hey Hunt, its Rush. Sorry to wake you. I need to know if you have Trinity Grace’s phone number?” he said as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “Trinity Grace? No, not since she last changed it. Sundra might have it. What’s up, dude? I didn’t realize the two of you were together.”

  “We’re working on it. Do you have Sundra’s number?”

  “Yeah, let me get it for you.”

  Rush waited impatiently for Hunter to return to the phone.

  “Okay, I found it. I’ll text it right over. How have you been, man? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  Running a hand through his short-cropped, dark hair, Rush answered, “Good, getting better. Listen, I need to go and see about Trinity. We’ll catch up later, okay?”

  “Sure. Hope everything’s okay.”

  Within a minute, the promised text came from Hunter with Sundra’s number. Quickly, he dialed it.

  A very sleepy Sundra answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Sundra, its Rush Drayton. I’m trying to get ahold of Trinity. She was here last night and left a note this morning saying she wasn’t feeling well. I’m worried, as I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I need to know where she is.”

  Silence met his words. After a solid minute, she finally answered. “She didn’t mention to me that the two of you were… together.”

  “We’re trying to work things out. Listen, Sundra, I appreciate your need to protect her, but right now I’m really worried about her. Please give me her address.”

  Silence once again met his words. “Don’t you dare make me regret this, Rush Drayton!” Sundra exclaimed before rattling off Trinity’s address.

  “Thanks, Sundra,” he said before clicking off.

  Rushing to his bedroom, he donned jeans and a T-shirt. As quick as he could manage, he drove through the early morning streets to the building which housed Trinity’s condo. He walked into the old brownstone condo complex and bypassed the elevator to run up the stairs to the third floor. He moved quickly down the hallway until he reached her door. He rang the doorbell and waited impatiently for her to answer. After a minute of shuffling from foot to foot, he began to knock and call her name. When he received no answer, he tried the door handle and was surprised to find it unlocked. When he walked into the condo, he stopped to listen for signs of life. He began to move swiftly through the space, looking for Trinity. He went down the hallway and pushed doors opened as
he went. He got to the next to last room and stopped in amazement.

  While he’d always known Trinity was an artist, he’d never actually seen any of her work. This room was obviously the baby’s room. She’d painted murals of jungle animals on all the walls in soft, muted colors. The room was just… enchanting. He looked at the gentle expressions on each animal’s face and stood amazed at the detail in each feature. This room had been painted with love. He could see it as plainly as the soft sage color which served as the background for the whimsical creatures. A lump formed in his throat. He’d missed out on so much… he’d failed her so much. In the corner of the room was a white, padded, rocking chair. His chest tightened at the thought of her sitting there with her long, dark hair swaying as she rocked their son sometime in the future. With a shake of his head, he continued to the last room. As he pushed the door open, he heard the sounds of someone retching violently. He had a hard time finding her in the near darkness of the room.

  “Trinity?” he called softly.

  He heard a groan from the other side of the bed. Moving swiftly, he knelt down next to her. She was sitting on the floor, leaned up against the bed, with her arms wrapped over the top of a trashcan.

  “Hey, baby, what’s wrong? What can I do?”

  With a shuddering sob, she said, “Migraine.”

  Rising to his feet, he went to the bathroom and wet a cloth. He returned to her and wiped her face with the cool rag. “Do you think you can get up now?” he asked softly.

  “I don’t know. My head hurts so much,” she whimpered.

  “Let me help you, okay?”

  With very little effort he lifted her in his arms and laid her gently on the bed. Slipping in behind her, he pressed his body up against her and wrapped his arms around her as tears ran in rivulets down her cheeks.

  “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispered from behind her. “Do you think we should go to the emergency room?”