by Jus Accardo
He tilted his head and raised a brow, but did as told, pulling the T-shirt above his head and tucking it behind his neck. This was about cleaning and dressing his wound, and that was easier without the shirt getting in the way, but it was hard not to stare. Well-defined lines and some serious ink, Shaun was definitely something to see. I found myself wondering what it’d be like to run my fingers across the planes of his chest, then tangle them in the thick, dark hair on his head.
Gingerly, I swiped the wet towel across the wound to clean away the blood. Beneath my touch, his muscles flexed, and he inhaled sharply but said nothing.
Once the wound was clean, he lifted his arm carefully to examine it. “Looks like I was right. Went straight through.”
“The bleeding seems to be less,” I said, wrapping the gauze around his arm. I finished it off with a long strip of tape. “Should be okay now.”
“What about you?” he asked, pulling his shirt back into place. I reached across to rummage through the small mini-fridge behind the counter. No luck other than an extremely outdated container of peach yogurt. I was an idiot. We should have taken food from Gerald’s shelter. Another one of Mom’s rules down the drain. Always take the time to fully assess a situation before making a move. “You okay?”
I hadn’t felt the impact from the fall into Gerald’s panic room at first, but it was starting to creep up on me now. Everything was sore and getting stiff. Add that to the fact that I was exhausted and starving, not to mention cold, and my body was ready to shut down.
Gingerly, I closed the fridge, lifted my wrist, and pushed the cuffs up as far as they would go. “I’m okay. Sore, but I’ll live.”
My left wrist was swollen and an angry shade of red. It looked like it was starting to darken around the edges—the beginnings of a bruise. “Shit,” he cursed and crossed to me, patting the counter. “Here. Sit a second.”
He set the lamp down and tugged the hoodie we’d been using to conceal the cuffs from around his waist. There was a violent tearing sound, and when I looked up, he was ripping the other sleeve off. “What are you doing?”
Dropping the bigger piece to the floor, he hopped onto the counter with me. Then, he gripped the edge of the sleeve and ripped it again, this time down the long seam line. We were sitting so close—knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder. He turned, and I felt his warm breath puffing out across my cheeks and neck. It made my pulse quicken and gave me goose bumps despite the fact that it warmed my chilled skin.
I held my breath as his fingers skimmed up my forearm, his touch feathery light as he slid the cuffs up and away from my bruised wrist. He ran his index finger along the edge of the bruise line, making a low noise in the back of his throat. It was a cross between a growl and a sigh, and it did strange things to my stomach. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”
“Not your fault,” I said, keeping my gaze on my wrist. If I picked up my head, we’d be eye to eye. For some reason, that scared the shit out of me.
But Shaun was determined. With his uncuffed hand, he lifted my chin. “It is my fault—and I’m sorry. I’ve been careless. Rough. I’ll try to be more careful…”
I couldn’t respond. The green flecks in his eyes stood out from the rest, casting a spell that made it impossible to look away. I waited for him to make a remark about me ogling him, or comment on how his perfection had stunned me speechless—because that would have made this easier. But he stayed quiet. Just staring at me like I was at him.
It was up to me. I cleared my throat and managed to tear my gaze from his. I leaned back a little, too. Being so close to him was mucking up my brain. “So, why did you defile the hoodie?” I nodded to his injured arm. “Didn’t it suffer enough?”
“This won’t solve the problem, but it might help.” He wrapped the sleeve portion fleece-side down around my wrist, then slid the cuff over top of it, all without taking his eyes from mine.
I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. The inside of my mouth was as dry as the desert. And my heart? If it beat any faster, I was likely to have a heart attack.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows knitted in concern. “Too tight?”
“I—no, it’s—” I sucked in a deep breath and fought the stinging in my eyes. “No one’s ever done that for me…”
He blinked, then broke into a crooked grin. “You mean wrapped your arm in a stolen hoodie?”
“Taken care of me.” There. I’d said it. Out loud. I wanted to die, but I’d said it out loud.
He seemed confused. I was, too, because he didn’t move away. In fact, I was certain he actually moved a little closer. Close enough that there was no way he didn’t hear my heart thundering inside my chest. “But your mother—”
“Loved me,” I confirmed, swallowing. “With her heart and soul. But she was a survivor. She taught me to be a survivor. Do it yourself because no one else is going to do it for you. That was one of her rules. If I fell and scraped my knee, I picked myself off the floor, bandaged it up, and moved on. Mom wasn’t the coddling type.”
“That’s a little harsh.”
Even though that was how I’d been raised, a large part of me—a part buried deep inside—wanted to agree with him. Instead, I simply smiled.
He was still so close. I smelled the woods on him, but there was something else. A spicy scent that tickled my nose and made my body hum in anticipation. All I could think about was what it’d be like to kiss him. So I did something rash. For the very first time, I acted without thinking or planning.
I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
I’d caught him off guard—I could tell—but after a moment, he recovered, lips parting in a devastating grin. He brought his face to mine, stopping just shy of touching, and whispered, “Your aim is a little off. I think you meant to get me several inches to the right.”
My heart stopped. He stayed where he was, and I was sure he’d push forward that last fraction of an inch and kiss me. Really kiss me. I wanted him to. Friends, relationships—sex—they were all ideas I’d never even entertained. In the back of my mind, I’d been sure one day I’d find a way to live free, and that there would be plenty of time to experience it all. Now I wasn’t so sure.
But he didn’t do it. He didn’t move away, though, either.
“Shaun, I…” I wanted to say more—not that I was sure what—but nothing would come out. It was like my thundering heart and racing pulse had taken over all facets of my being, making independent thought and motion impossible.
In that moment, I wanted to know—had to know—what kissing him would be like. I’d had some truly terrifying moments in my life, but nothing compared to this. To the thought of pressing forward and simply touching my lips to his. An act that sounded so simple, yet incited such an electric feeling. But my chance came and went.
“We should get moving,” Shaun murmured. He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead, pulled away and jumped from the counter. Taking my hand, he threaded his fingers through mine and lightly tugged me from the edge.
…
“We need a plan,” I said, kicking at a small white pebble. It bounced across the road before skittering into a storm drain. We’d slipped out the back door of the feed store and had been making our way through the woods, parallel to the road. It was still dark—I had no idea how long we’d been down in Gerald’s panic room—but there were no cars on the road.
“I thought the plan was to find out who this Mick guy is? See if he’s connected to your Mom’s death in any way…”
“We know he’s not the one after me. Gerald said Jaffe was paying him. But if Mick was one of my mom’s partners, maybe he can help us. He might know something. So, yeah. We need to find him, but we need a plan to do that.”
Shaun reached up to scratch his head, tugging my arm a few inches to the left. “So…we need a plan for the plan?”
“Yes. We’re cold, dirty, wet, and hungry—not to mention beat.” I thrust my free hand into my pocket to check on the ca
sh. It was still there, thank God. “Plus, I want you to try calling Patrick again.”
Shaun cocked a brow and tilted his head in my direction. “I thought you didn’t trust him.”
“I don’t. Not even a little. But he was about to tell us something when you hung up on him—something about Mick. We need to find out what that was. It might help us track him down.”
“It’s been a while. He should be close by now.”
“Be close by—” And then it hit me. I wasn’t sure whether I was impressed, or furious. It was probably an even mixture of both. “The call from Gerald’s phone.”
“The minute we hung up, Pat would have gone to get it traced,” he confirmed with an annoyingly satisfied smile. “He’s probably already been to Gerald’s.”
I stopped walking as we came to a clearing in the trees, fists curling at my sides. I should have seen this coming. I was an idiot to have trusted him. Even a little. And God… Spilling my guts to him earlier? I felt like the biggest ass on the planet. “You bastard…”
His grin faltered as a beam of light came barreling toward us. “I—shit. Quick! Get down.”
He pushed me hard and I lost my footing. Sneaker slipping on the slick leaves beneath my feet, I teetered for a moment, and then skidded out of control down the embankment. We tumbled through the leaves, rolling in a tangled mess until we finally stopped several feet from the road. The headlights from the oncoming car passed harmlessly by.
“Get off me,” I growled, trying to push him aside. “You fucking liar, get off me!”
Grabbing my cuffed wrist, he also seized my free hand with his and pinned it in the bracken. “Will you calm the hell down?”
Calling him was one thing, but leading him right to us after I made my reservations known? No way. The money. It was all about the money. Maybe they wouldn’t fork me over to Jaffe, but the police had issued a reward as well. Some cash was better than none.
I kicked and thrashed. Rule of survival. Never make it easy. He wanted to double-cross me? Fine. I’d make his life a living hell in the meantime. I rammed my knee up, but Shaun was quick. He anticipated the move and twisted his body to the side. I connected with thin air. “I’m not a damn paycheck,” I shouted.
“I didn’t—” he started.
I brought my head up, uninterested in anything he had to say. Excuses and more lies. I didn’t need them. I kicked out again, this time connecting with his injured shoulder.
“Son of a bitch,” he cursed, doing his best to keep me pinned. “Kayla, I’m serious. Calm the fuck down and listen for one second!”
Something about the sound of his voice, commanding and just a little bit panicked, froze me in place. I stopped struggling and lifted my gaze to meet his.
“I didn’t lie to you. I said I’d keep you safe, and I promised I’d help you find what you were looking for. I don’t go back on my word. Not ever.”
“But you—”
He bent close, face inches from mine. Even in the dark, I could make out the strands of green in his eyes. It was good. Another thing to focus on other than the fact that I wanted to beat him within an inch of his life.
Good—and bad.
It also made me think of the feed store. How we’d been so close. How he’d touched me, so gentle… How, for the briefest moment, there’d been this undeniable connection between us. A perfect moment in the middle of a thousand horrible ones. That scared me.
“I signaled Pat so he would be close by. Just in case. I think we were on long enough before I had to hang up… I know you don’t trust him, and that’s cool, but I do. If I’m in trouble…” He jingled the chains. “And since you are, I am—then I want him here to have my back if I need it.”
The question came out whisper-soft and, even though I hated the fact, was filled with vulnerability. “So you’re not going to screw me over for the cash?”
For a moment, I was sure he hadn’t heard me. He just stayed where he was. Staring. When he did speak, it was soft—but chilling. And not necessarily in a bad way, either. What I’d felt earlier when we’d had that “moment” back at the feed store was merely a shadow of what I felt now. Both warm and cold, thrilling and scary, all at the same time. It made my pulse race like someone had injected me with rocket fuel.
“Fuck the money,” he growled. “I don’t know nearly as much about your life as Pat seems to, but I know you were raised to distrust everyone. And I get it—I do. When life throws shit your way, you have to look out for your own. But I swear to you, Kayla, not everyone is out to screw you. Some people really just want to help…”
He moved forward until our noses touched. It was an electric shock of warmth against the cool night that sent static rippling through my body and made the tiny hairs on my arms stand on end. No. Not stand. Dance. They were dancing—and I wanted to dance with them. “I want to help…”
And then the most unbelievable—badly timed and terrifying—thing happened.
He kissed me.
Not a peck on the cheek like I’d braved, but an act fueled by fire and passion. My heart pounded, and I was positive it would explode. Could an eighteen-year-old girl in good health just drop dead from a sudden heart attack? Could a kiss even do that?
Sure it could. Shaun was off-limits. The enemy. That had to be exciting in some small way, not to mention the intensity of his stare, the way his shirt pulled taut over a well-muscled torso, his arms…
All the tension melted from my body and I found my lips responding to his. Soft and warm. Those were just two of the sensations that accosted my entire being, sending me reeling. I teetered square in the middle between wanting to move away and smack him, and never wanting it to end. Kissing. That was all. There were no roaming hands. No words. Just the soft brush of his lips and the warm, oddly soothing weight of his body against mine.
It seemed strange. What an odd time to feel so happy. So comforted. I was on the side of the road shackled to a guy I hardly knew, on the run not only from the police but from the people who had murdered my mom, and for the first time in almost a year—hell, maybe my whole life—I felt safe.
I was horrified. My thoughts were scattered across the map, all tingle-inducing variations of pulling him closer and taking things even further. But I didn’t get the chance.
Shaun finally pulled away. As he did, something tugged on my subconscious. An icy chill replaced the comforting warmth, and cleared the fuzzy cobwebs away. The rules. This was against the rules. Why? Because, as shocking as it was to admit it—even if only to myself—I actually liked Shaun. He was honest and loyal—not to mention extremely easy on the eyes.
And sure, he was helping me now, but I couldn’t forget that he’d tried to cash in on my fugitive status and collect the nice chunk of change attached to my head, which is what had gotten us into this mess to begin with. God. Mom would think I’d lost my marbles—which I obviously had.
Shaun must have sensed the wrongness of it all, too, because he sighed and said, “That was really—”
“Wrong?” I supplied. “Twisted? Backward?”
He ran his free hand through his messy hair. “Well, bad timing, yeah, but I dunno about wrong… I was about to say—wait. Twisted?”
I turned my head toward the road. Suddenly I couldn’t stand the thought of looking him in the eye. It was too personal. Way too intimate. “It’s like you’re rap and I’m heavy metal. They just don’t go together.”
“I disagree,” he said, leaning in again. I could feel his warm breath puffing across my cheek and I had to resist the urge to move closer. “There have been some awesome rap/metal collaborations.”
I shivered. He answered in a music analogy. Holy shit. That might just be enough to redeem him in Mom’s eyes. I shook it off and pointed to myself. “Hunted…” Then I pointed to him. “Hunter.”
“Wasn’t it you who kept insisting you weren’t a criminal?”
He finally got it.
“Plus, there’s a fine line between us, Kayla. Almost
nonexistent. You said so yourself, and you’re right. Most hunters break more laws than the people they’re bringing in. The big difference is that we haven’t gotten caught for the things we’ve done. Yet.”
I turned back to him. “I think it’s more complicated than that.”
“I’m sure you do. I also get the feeling you over think things.” He climbed to his feet and helped me do the same. Shrugging, he said, “Besides, it was just a damn kiss.”
“Right,” I said casually, but his words stung. I didn’t expect anything—hell, I didn’t want anything—but he made the whole thing seem so average. So run-of-the-mill. It hadn’t felt that way to me. But maybe it had for him. He’d probably had lots of girlfriends. I just happened to be here at the moment, and he was a guy. I was a way to fill the time.
“Right,” he repeated.
Suddenly I was aware of a nagging, borderline painful pressure in my lower abdomen. I glanced down at the cuffs and froze. “And really, we have a bigger problem…”
He tensed. “What?”
I held up our joined hands. “I have to pee.”
Chapter Thirteen
Luckily we found a twenty-four-hour truck stop about half a mile up the road. A part of me worried about running into Jaffe’s men, but a bigger part had to pee. Some things just took precedence.
“Okay.” I swallowed and tugged on the chain. “You can turn around now.”
We were crammed into the tiny unisex bathroom at the back of the truck stop. Unfortunately the toilet was too far from the door to make it work without both of us being in the room. The faucet was running so I could drown out the sound, but it didn’t do much. I’d just had to use the restroom while shackled to the guy I’d shared a mind-blowing kiss with. As far as horrific went, I was pretty sure I’d just hit a new all-time low.
That was saying a lot.
Standing in front of the mirror, I kept my head turned away as Shaun took his turn. I cringed at my reflection—talk about a mess. My shoulder-length brown hair hung limp and was adorned with several leaves. Picking them out one by one, I then moved on to my dirt-streaked face. A smear under my left eye, and another across the right cheek, made it look like bad camouflage.