Riding the Thunder - Deborah MacGillivray [36]
“Don’t be like that, sugar. Let go of that Goody Two-Shoes image and live a little.” John leered. “Come on, baby, I’ll take you.”
Suddenly, Tommy was there. “Let go, John. She’s just a kid.”
Laura wanted the roof to open up and her to fall through; maybe she’d break her neck and none of this would matter.
John chuckled. “Kids don’t have tits like that.”
The music fell silent so everyone heard his vulgar comment.
“Take your hand off Laura—now, John, and apologize to her.” Tommy’s voice was steel. He moved between them, like some medieval knight ready to do battle for a damsel.
“Tommy, what’s she doing now?” Joy whined at his elbow.
Tommy picked up Joy’s arm and pulled her toward John. “Dance with John, while I take Laura home.”
Laura yanked away. “Melody is giving me a ride. You stay, Tommy, and play with your little friends. Come on, Melody.”
“Right behind you, hon.” Melody flashed Tommy a killing glare.
“Laura . . .” Tommy turned to follow her, only to have Joy latch on to his arm.
Laura didn’t slow. Her steps carried her down the stairs, and to the shallow end of the pool. She finally stopped and gasped for breath.
“Laura, stay here. I’ll call my dad to come and get us. This crowd’s getting ugly. There’s going to be trouble. The chaperones should’ve never let those college kids stay.” Melody patted her arm. “I’ll be right back.”
Laura kicked off her satin shoes and sat down on the concrete edge, little caring if the rough surface ruined her gown. Tomorrow she’d burn it. Neither did she worry that she wore stockings. The water felt like liquid silk. Surprised, as she’d had no idea the pool was heated, she closed her eyes, wishing she could swim. It would be so lovely to swim until she was exhausted; then her mind wouldn’t be filled with images of this horrible night.
Gathering her skirt, she stepped down on the half-moon steps, into water swishing over her knees. It was so soothing.
Suddenly, someone took hold of her arm and pulled her back. She blinked to seeTommy leaning toward her. “Come on, Laura, I’m taking you home.” He tugged her in his direction . . .
“Asha? Asha?”
It took Asha a minute to adjust. Once more, the pool was covered over like a greenhouse and it was October, not a May night over four decades ago. Jago held her arm and hauled her from the pool. Netta and Liam were behind him, their expressions etched with the same look of worry. Jago led her to a chaise, then pushed her to sit.
“Are you all right?” Netta padded over and sat on the lounge next to her and gave her a hug.
“I’m fine.” She grasped for any excuse to ease their concern. “Just a little lightheaded. I haven’t drunk enough Pepsi today. My sugar’s down. If someone will get me a cola?”
“I’ll fetch it.” Netta jumped up and hurried to the clubhouse.
Liam and Jago exchanged glances, clearly dubious. Asha glared at them, defiant. That was the only explanation she was going to offer.
How could she tell them she’d just slipped into another person’s life?
CHAPTER NINE
Jago broke the surface of the water and then grabbed the edge of the lime green air mattress Asha lazily floated upon. The lowly male in him was mesmerized by that sexy display of glorious curves, as if she were served up on a bed of lettuce—an open-face sandwich for him to devour. And boy, did he hunger to do just that! Overriding the primitive pounding in his blood was concern about Asha zoning out on them earlier.
“Are you all right?” he queried, playfully trickling a handful of water down that barely covered spine and derrière.
Asha shivered, then laughed. “You mean have I relapsed into zombieitis in the five minutes since you last asked?”
“I guess I’m being a pain?” He chuckled.
“No, you’re rather sweet. Thanks. Really, I’m fine.” She reached out and stroked his cheek with her thumb. Her smile vanished; the look in her cat eyes turned into one of a soul-deep ache as they traced over his face. Instead of dropping her hand, she traced his jawline, then her index finger outlined