Blood bubbled up from her mother’s lips, which moved without sound. Whatever she wanted to say, any final words she longed to share with her only child, were lost forever.
She went still, the light leaving her eyes.
For the second time in her life, Aimee grieved her mother’s death.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Good thing most of the people in the building were still at work.” Logan looked around the living room, now clean of all blood. There was no trace of Lydia ever having been there. “They would’ve heard the shot, and we would’ve been in deep shit.”
He glanced over toward the sofa where Aimee sat wrapped in a blanket. “How is she?”
“How would you be if you’d just killed your mother?” Zane whispered. He was still in something close to shock himself. Everything had happened so fast. He hadn’t even thought to ask Logan to bring him a change of clothes—but he’d done it anyway, just to be on the safe side.
Only one thing rang clear. She’d done it to save him.
But why? Out of pity? Was it the way she’d described it to Lydia as she died? Did Aimee think it was unfair for him to die because of what he was when he had no control over that?
Or was there more?
He couldn’t exactly ask, not now. Not so soon after.
Logan pulled him aside, even farther from where Aimee sat. “There’s something else. After you left, I got a phone call. Blocked number, digitally altered voice.”
Zane’s wolf sat at attention, ears pricked up. He felt much the same way. “What did they say?”
“They asked if we found anything of interest in the files they left and said they want to meet with me. Just me, face-to-face.”
“Whoa. You can’t be considering taking them up on it.”
“Right now, I don’t think I have a choice. I have to know who this is, why they’ve done this, what connection they have to these people. I only wish Lydia had been left alive so we could question her.”
Zane shook his head. “She wouldn’t have told you anything,” he muttered. “Trust me. She was out of her mind.”
“And we can’t take chances with you, either,” Logan added, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m glad you made it out of this.”
“She deserves all the credit.” He nodded to Aimee. “She was the heroine today.”
“She needs you,” Logan murmured. “Go to her. We can talk about the hacker later. She’s gotta be going through something right now.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He watched as Logan murmured comforting words to Aimee before heading out. What he’d said didn’t matter as much as the relief that washed over her as a result.
Now they were alone, the cleanup crew Logan kept on retainer for jobs like this having already left. They were efficient, discreet, and happy to accept cash payment upfront for their services.
They were alone, and he had no idea what to say to this woman. Should he thank her for saving his life? Express grief over the sacrifice she’d had to make for him?
He decided to keep things simple. “Can I do anything for you?”
And it was the right thing to ask since she smiled faintly. “You can stop acting like I’m gonna break any second.”
“Will do.”
“And you can get me the hell out of this apartment.” She looked around, blank-faced. “I don’t want to live here anymore. I don’t ever wanna see it again.”
“That can be arranged.” Granted, he wasn’t sure exactly how, but he’d see to it.
“I don’t even wanna know what’s in those boxes I never opened,” she whispered. “I’m through with that. I’m tired of being that person. I wanna be me. Just me.”
“And who is just you?” he asked, taking a few tentative steps her way. While she’d flat-out told him not to treat her as being fragile, he couldn’t help it. He could’ve lost her.
He could’ve lost his life.
She sighed, closing her eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to find out.”
He crouched beside the sofa. “You know I’ll be around if you need company while you’re finding out.”
Her eyes opened, fixing on him. “I would hope so. I sorta imagined you being with me. I guess we never talked about what comes next, whether we wanted to ever see each other again after this.”
“Part of me thinks we didn’t have to talk about it at all,” he admitted, “but I know that’s taking the easy way out. Besides, you deserve more than to be kept guessing. I don’t want there to ever be any doubt about my feelings for you, my feelings about us.”
Then, he frowned. “If anything, I was waiting to see how you felt, what you thought. I was going to tell you tonight, honestly. That wasn’t a lie. I wanted you to be able to make up your mind after knowing all there is to know about me.”
“That isn’t all there is to know, though,” she whispered, one of her hands creeping out from under her blanket to take his. “I mean, you were in a chess tournament once. And you only played one season of baseball because you don’t like having to perform in front of people.”
“That’s true,” he admitted with a grin.
“You miss your family so much that you haven’t changed a single thing about the house your mom decorated for you, even though it doesn’t fit your style—by the way, how did you even end up with a farm?”
“My grandfather willed it to me.”
“Nice grandfather.”
“Yeah, he was,” Zane smiled, remembering.
“Anyway, I know lots of things about you. You’ve got a motorcycle, which is hot. You’re funny. You’re way smarter than you let on sometimes, and yeah, you just so happened to end up being used in a terrible experiment by terrible people. I’m not dismissing that, but I’m not pretending it’s all there is to know about you either.”
“It doesn’t scare you? What I am?”
“No.” She wasn’t whispering anymore. Her voice was firm. “No, you don’t scare me one bit. I wouldn’t wanna cross you. I’m glad we made friends when we did, but you don’t scare me.”
“That’s good to know.” He ran his thumb over her knuckles. Her hand was so small compared to his. “Can I say something that will probably sound painfully corny?”
“Sure.”
He leveled his gaze with hers, staring into those emerald pools that held so much hope. So much pain. Betrayal. Tenderness. Longing. It would take time for her to get through this, and he planned on being with her when she did.
“Thank you for saving my life.” He held her hand tighter. “I wish there were words, but there aren’t. I can’t describe what it means. You didn’t have to do it.”
“I did.” She held his gaze. “I had to. I couldn’t let her… No. They already did enough to you. Besides, what would I do without you getting on my nerves? Who would I beat in chess?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he muttered.
She stopped smiling. “I don’t wanna live without you. It’s as simple as that. You’re the one person who makes me feel like… me. Like I’m just me. I feel like I could get through this with you and find out who I wanna be while I’m with you. Last night, today—before all this—I actually felt contented. Happy, even. Normal. All the things I’ve missed. And I have you to thank for that.”
It was like dawn breaching the horizon. Like the biggest, best wish he’d ever wished for coming true—the simple act of her trusting him, finding peace with him.
Maybe one day they’d both be able to find out who they wanted to be. Together.
“I love you,” he whispered, the words catching in his throat like he still didn’t dare say them just in case she was going to take it back.
She didn’t. “I love you too. Now can we please get the hell out of here and never come back?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“No!”
Aimee woke with a start, her cry still echoing through the otherwise quiet night. She was weeping, shaking.
“Shh. It’s okay. You’re
okay.” Zane reached for her, stroking her back as he sat up beside her. “It’s okay. It was just a dream.”
She held her face in her hands, laughing shakily at herself for making such a big deal about a dream. “Sorry. Ugh. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” He kept stroking, his voice low. “You’re fine. It’s no problem.”
She dropped her hands to the quilt, looking around. It was still full dark. The only sound outside was that of crickets chirping. She thought she could get used to it, given the opportunity.
They settled back down onto the bed with Zane on his back and Aimee curled up against him. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It made her smile knowing his heart was pumping away in there, keeping him alive, keeping him with her.
“I guess I don’t have to ask who you were dreaming about,” he whispered, stroking her back again.
“No. You don’t.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know you are, but you don’t have to be. You don’t.” She raised her head slightly so he could see she meant it. “She made her choices the same as anybody else. I mourned her ten years ago. The mother I knew was long gone anyway. I barely recognized her. Physically, sure, but nothing else.”
“Time can twist a person,” he mused.
“Yeah. Especially when all that time was spent around maniacs.” She lowered her head again, staring out the window. All that mattered was being with him, here and now. In the safe, warm embrace of his arms. Nothing could hurt her here.
“Would you…” He took a deep breath, his chest rising and her head rising with it. “I mean, where were you thinking about living now? Did you have any place in mind?”
She bit her lip. How awkward. Just when she was about to start fantasizing about all the nights they would spend together in this bed, in this room, in this house. He had to go and ask a question like that.
She raised her head again, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Uh. I don’t know. I mean it’s barely been an entire day. I hadn’t. I mean, I didn’t.”
“Oh. Okay.” He ran his thumb across her chin, her jaw. “I was just gonna say, if you were up in the air and not sure what you wanted to do, there’s room here. Always.”
“Always?” she asked with her heart in her throat.
He smiled. “Aimee, I’ve lived here for years, but I haven’t really. It was never my home. My house, yes, but not my home. It was waiting for someone to show up and turn it into a home. I never knew before now that there even was such a distinction, but I get it now that I know you.”
He looked around the room, idly stroking her back and hair as he did. “As soon as you stepped inside, I knew this was where you belonged. I hoped you would feel the same way. It’s just that everything seems brighter with you here. Better. More real. Does that sound—”
She cut him off with a brief, hard kiss, her heart swelling until she thought she couldn’t stand it. “Perfect,” she whispered. “It sounds perfect because this is where I wanna be. I was only worried you didn’t want me here.”
“Why wouldn’t I want you?”
“You were the one who said you liked your solitude. Something like that, anyway. Remember?”
“You’ve gotta stop quoting every random thing I blurt out,” he grumbled.
“You should stop randomly blurting things out without thinking about them,” she pointed out.
“Is it too late to take back my invitation?”
“Yes!” she shouted, shoving him maybe a little too hard to be playful.
“Good!” he laughed, grabbing her in a bear hug. “Because I don’t want to.”
He rolled them both over until he was positioned on top of her. “And you’re sure? About everything?” he asked, searching her face for answers, for some hidden truth he was afraid she would hold back.
All she could do was stare straight into his eyes and speak from the heart. “I’m sure about everything. Including your wolf. I know who you are. I knew who you were before you shifted. No, I didn’t know about the wolf.” She was quick to clarify when his mouth fell open.
She slid her hand up between them, resting it over his chest. His strong, loyal heart beat a steady rhythm. “Here. I knew what was here. This is what matters. This never changes. Right?”
Rather than answer in words, he took her hand and kissed her fingertips, one after the other. She sighed softly, watching him, reveling in the sensation of his lips against her skin.
He then kissed her palm, his eyes closing, and she cupped his cheek. “I love you,” she breathed before their mouths met and he swept her away, far away from all the grief and anger and betrayal. There was no room for that in this bed or between them. This was where they would start something new together.
Beginning then and there.
Nothing would interrupt them this time, she thought as his tongue slid between her lips. She groaned, her heart racing faster in anticipation of what was to come. He didn’t have to tell her what this meant, what was riding on this act. She felt it in her heart. This would bind them forever.
She could hardly wait.
But no. He wanted to take it slow. His tongue moved in sensual circles around hers, his hand exploring her thigh as he’d done before. Her nerves jumped and sizzled, her hips lifting on their own. There was so much need in her, so much untouched desire. She was a powder keg ready to explode.
“Shh,” he whispered, teasing, when she moaned into his mouth.
“It’s your fault,” she managed to whimper before moaning again as his hand swept over the curve of her butt. It was the gentlest caress, playful, promising so much but delivering little.
“What’s my fault?” he asked, his mouth skimming her throat, his tongue darting out to taste her. She held his head close, cradling it almost, her heart swelling. He was hers, this magnificent man.
“You do this to me,” she whispered, raising her hips again. Only this time, she came into contact with what was already very hard and very demanding, pressing against her thigh.
He lifted his head, groaning. “Careful, or this will end real quick,” he grunted, his jaw tightening as he fought to get himself under control.
“I have all night,” she whispered, giggling softly.
He surprised her by lifting her up, settling her on his lap as he knelt on the bed. At first, he didn’t do anything but push her hair back over her shoulders before staring flat-out, hands on either side of him.
She straddled his lap, curious. “What is it?”
“You. I wanted to look at you.” And he did, his eyes taking a slow tour of her clothed body. She wore his shirt and pants again, both of them sagging on her. Yet the way he looked at her, she was a feast meant just for him. Her body went warm all over.
“Let me look at you, too,” she whispered, tugging his shirt up over his back. He raised his arms so she could lift it over his head, tossing it aside before running her hands over his shoulders, arms, back. He was unreal, yet he couldn’t be because she was touching him and he was warm, firm.
A fire leaped to life in her core, blazing steadily, growing brighter all the time. He was hers, all hers, for always. The fire grew brighter still.
“I’m afraid of hurting you,” he confessed, a catch in his throat.
“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, lifting her own shirt over her head and tossing it to the floor with his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her skin sliding over his. “I’m not. Just love me, okay? That’s all I want.”
So, he did, peeling off her clothes, worshipping with hands and mouth. It was beyond bliss, beyond mind-blowing, beyond pleasure.
Intimacy. Being vulnerable. Opening herself up to him, one piece at a time, and knowing he loved every piece, that she could trust herself with him, that he wouldn’t let her down.
“I… I need…” he rasped against her skin, setting it on fire. She knew what he needed, the fact of it pushing upward through his shorts. “Please, A
imee.”
“Yes,” she whispered, and she meant it. Yes. She wanted him, all of him. She wanted to take him into her, to fit together like the other half of him the way he was what she’d been missing her whole life.
She lifted herself and slid home with a sigh. She cried out against his shoulder from the size of him, the size of the moment. Tears dripped onto his shoulder.
“Okay?” he grunted, barely holding back.
She straightened up, facing him, nodding. “Yes,” she whispered before starting to move. Slowly. Inch by inch, wanting to draw it out, to make it last forever.
They stared into each other’s eyes, and Aimee’s fire burned hotter with every twitch, every narrowing, every widening as pleasure built between them. She could do this to him. She would do this to him forever.
There was a power in that, a pleasure beyond the physical knowing he needed her this way, that his breathing turned into grunts because of her, that her gasps and whimpers drove him crazy.
She closed her eyes, lost, holding him as tight as she could and letting him take her over the edge. He gripped her hips, pumping, his fingers sinking into her flesh. A cry built in her, louder all the time, with each furious stroke.
Was he growling in her ear? Was this the wolf? Yes, she was loving him too, and he was loving her, taking her further than she’d ever been before, had ever dreamed of being. She abandoned herself to him, body and soul, her cries peaking before she crashed into him.
His teeth sank into her shoulder, and she knew without asking that he was marking her as his, binding them for all time. One final thrust and he let out a howl. Pleasure, victory, the satisfaction of having found his mate and made her his.
She knew all of this like she’d been born knowing it, the two of them still wrapped in each other’s body as they came down from that incredible high. Aimee could barely breathe, her throat hoarse, her skin slick with sweat.
“Holy…” Zane panted. He was too out of it to even finish the thought.
Aimee snickered. “The word ‘holy’ did not come to mind just then.”
Wolf Shield Investigations: Boxset Page 98