by Paige Weaver
I opened my mouth to tell him not to but a strong gust of wind hit me. The end of my shirt flew up. I slapped a hand on it to keep it down. When I did, pain exploded in my side, right above the bullet wound. I wrapped a hand around my middle and cried out, doubling over and seeing stars.
Cash spun around. “Damn it to hell,” he scowled, taking one look at me.
He marched back and swung me up into his arms.
“What are you doing?” I cried out in a weak voice as he started for the house with me cradled against his chest.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he growled, his mouth set in what might be a permanent scowl. “I’m taking you back inside where you should be.”
The muscles in his arm were tense under my thighs as he held me. His jaw was clamped so hard I was surprised I didn’t hear his teeth grind together and crack. He was furious but he carried me carefully, making sure not to hurt me.
I stuck my jaw up, fighting weakness. “Cash, you don’t have to—”
He cut me off. “Shut it, Cat. You’re white as a sheet and your damn wound is probably bleeding again. You feel like you’re burning up with fever and it’s fuckin’ cold out here. If I ever catch you alone outside again, I’m going to hogtie you to the bed. Understand?”
I stared up at him, wide-eyed. He had never said anything like that to me before. He really was pissed.
His strides were long and angry as he carried me to the cabin. The wind picked up and tossed my hair into my face. We didn’t talk. He fumed. I stared, my body weak but my mind racing. What was wrong with him?
The pain in my side became worse but it didn’t hurt as much as Cash’s coldness toward me. When we reached the porch, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Put me down,” I insisted in a faint voice, the last of my strength disappearing.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart. Stay still,” Cash muttered, tightening his arms around me. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“I’m already hurt. Put me down,” I said through clenched teeth.
Cash didn’t bother stopping or looking down at me. “No!” he snapped.
The word slashed through the air like a whip. His tone left no room for argument. His arms tightened around me as he took the porch steps two at a time. When he got to the top, his boots made heavy, angry thuds as he crossed to the front door.
Before we got there, Tate bounded around the corner of the cabin.
“What’s up?” he asked, his gaze darting from me to Cash.
I opened my mouth to respond but Cash beat me to it.
“Get in the house now, Tate!” he ordered, the look on his face so dark that I shrink back in his arms.
“Yes, sir!” Tate jumped to attention and saluted Cash. Always the smartass, he snapped his heels together and reached out, yanking open the door for us.
Cash paused in the threshold, inches from my brother.
“Kid, I’m warning you,” he hissed. “I’m not in a mood for your horse shit right now.”
Tate’s eyes flicked to me, ignoring Cash’s threat. “She break her leg or something? Why are you carrying her? Why’s he carrying you, Cat?”
I couldn’t help but grin. Leave it to my brother to never know when to stop.
Cash grumbled and carried me into the cabin.
“No, she didn’t break her leg,” he muttered as Tate followed close behind us. “Stop with the questions.”
“So what happened?” Tate asked. “She hurt or is this some kind of romantic shit? Do I need to give you two some privacy? You not afraid to be around her anymore, Cash?”
Cash’s jaw clenched. The tic reappeared. He stopped. Facing Tate with me in his arms, his cold eyes centered on my brother.
“Where the fuck were you? I told you not to leave her side. She’s not fully recovered yet.”
Tate flipped his bangs out of his face, unfazed by Cash’s fury. “I went out for just a second. Thought I heard a noise.”
Cash bristled. I swear fire shot from his eyes.
“What part of ‘don’t leave her’ do you not understand?” he snarled. “That was the only job I gave you.”
Tate shrugged. “Well, guess you should have watched her yourself then, huh?”
Cash let out a low growl at Tate’s veiled meaning. With a dark look, he started for the bedroom again, his arms tight around me. His stride was quick and purposeful. Livid.
“What’s the big deal?” Tate argued, catching up to us. “It was just a split second. She looks fine to me.”
Cash stopped. Cradling me against his chest like I weighed nothing, he turned and glared down at Tate.
“It took one second for the bullet to find her,” he said in a voice so low it sent shivers down my spine. “One split second for it to bury in her side. You want something like that on your conscience? Keeping you up at night? Eating away at your soul? Believe me, it isn’t fuckin’ fun.”
Tate went white. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat. For once, he didn’t know what to say.
But I did.
“Cash, I’m okay,” I said weakly. “You shouldn’t—”
He cut me off. “Shut up, Cat. Just shut the hell up.”
He started for the bedroom again. Tate didn’t move, still rattled. I looked up at Cash as he carried me, wondering what had happened to him. To us. The pain in my side was severe but his anger toward me was agonizing.
“Put me down,” I insisted as soon as he pushed past the sheet hanging in the doorway. “I don’t want you touching me if you’re going to be like this.”
He slammed to a stop at the foot of the bed and glared down at me.
“You want down?” he quipped.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“What the Beauty Queen wants, she gets.”
He set me down, his hands warm as they slid over my legs. His arms, so strong around me seconds ago, let me go. When they did, all the blood rushed from my head. The room tilted.
“Damn,” I whispered, swaying.
A soft curse left Cash. He scooped me up again.
“You stubborn, little spoiled brat,” he hissed in a rugged, raspy voice. “Maybe one day you’ll listen to me.”
I mumbled weakly as he laid me on the bed, “What would be the fun in that?”
He let out a soft grunt of irritation and planted both of his hands on either side of me.
“I’ll warn you one more time. Don’t mess with me, Cat.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t think of anything but him looming over me.
“What happens if I do?” I asked, just a whisper on a rush of air. “What will you do?”
Cash’s jaw tightened. “I won’t be responsible for my actions. That’s what I’ll do.”
He looked so angry. So annoyed. But I had never been afraid of him.
I reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt. With one pull, I tugged him closer to me.
“What happened to you, Cash? Where’s my cowboy?” I whispered, struggling against the exhaustion and pain that was quickly winning.
Cash’s gaze traveled over my face, touching on each of my features. My lips. My jawline. The way my hair fell across the pillow. When he looked back into my eyes, his were piercing. Full of fire and ice.
“He disappeared the moment that bullet hit you, Cat,” he rasped. “He’s gone.”
He reached between us and unhooked my fist from his shirt, prying my fingers free. My heart beat against my ribs. My throat closed up. As he pulled away, I struggled to push myself upright, wincing when throbs shot through my left side.
“You’re being a stubborn jerk,” I whispered in a shaky, weak voice. My energy was completely gone. Lightheadedness was making the room spin. The pain was back in full force and so was my fever.
But I was going to fight him.
“No, a jackass,” I corrected myself. “I like that better. You’re being a jackass, Cash, and I don’t like you very much right now.”
He looked down at me,
the side of his mouth quirking up in a cold smile.
“Like me?” he whispered. “Hell, sweetheart, you should hate me.”
Before I could say anything, he turned around and strolled from the room like he didn’t give a damn.
And I was afraid he suddenly didn’t.
Chapter Ten
Cat
“Son of a bitch,” I whispered, breathing hard. It had been days since Cash had caught me outside. Now, I was sick to death of being inside.
My fever was gone. I was getting my strength back. I had managed to give myself a sponge bath using water Tate had dragged in from a nearby creek. My clothes were back on but my boots were giving me hell. I had managed to step into one but because of the wound in my side, I couldn’t bend down and tie the laces.
I blew out a frustrated breath. David had wrapped my middle in a tight bandage. I wasn’t happy about it. I argued with him viciously. I tried to make him see reason. I just needed a little covering over the wound and I would be fine.
But he refused to listen. Just sat there with a calm expression on his craggy face and wrapped a strip of an old sheet around my middle. He said if I was going to move around, my side needed to be wrapped good and tight so I wouldn’t reopen the wound.
It didn’t matter what his reason was. I had thrown a huge tantrum. I was tired of being locked up in a room, hovered over by David and Tate like I was a piece of china that might break. I was tired of being avoided by Cash and I was worried about Keely. I wanted out of the cabin and I didn’t want to be wrapped up like a mummy in bandages. But my fit ended when Tate poked his head into the room and said Cash was pacing the floor and looked like he wanted to kill someone. That made me shut up real quick.
I took a deep breath, bit down hard on my bottom lip, and leaned down, bending my body in half to reach the laces. I was determined to leave the room and pull my weight around the cabin. Do my part and show them I was well.
But pain shot from the wound in my side. I hissed, squeezing my eyes closed. I was better but it still hurt, more of a dull ache than sharp pain like before. I had refused to take any more painkillers. David wasn’t happy about it but something was telling me the clock was ticking down until Paul and Hightower showed up. I had laid in bed for days, antsy and thinking about it. They wouldn’t give up easily if they knew we were close. It was only a matter of time before they found us again and I didn’t want pills clouding my mind.
“Shit!” I shouted with irritation, glaring at the laces. I needed to get dressed!
The sheet that hung in the doorway flew back. I looked up. Cash was standing there, looking large and forbidding.
Sulking, I plopped down on the edge of the bed. “Leave me alone.”
I was pissed that I couldn’t take care of myself and angry with him for being so damn cold.
Cash took one look at my unlaced boot and headed straight toward me.
Oh god.
His hair was sticking up. The stubble on his jaw was dark. Not knowing where Keely was had to be killing him.
I forgot that I was only wearing one boot and it was unlaced, that I was recovering from a bullet wound and was still woozy sometimes. I hopped off the bed and faced Cash as he closed the distance between us.
His eyes blazed. His body was taut, ready to attack. He stopped a foot from me. His gaze drifted down my figure slowly. I burned. I ached. I felt drawn to him like never before.
The need was overpowering. The desire was almost too much. I stood still, wondering what he was going to do. He had been so distant. So unfeeling. I didn’t know this man in front of me but I was intrigued by him. Maybe even more than before.
“Cash—” I whispered, needing him to say something. Anything.
But he didn’t. He clenched his jaw and went down to one knee at my feet. I drew in a sharp breath when he grabbed the laces of my boot and started to tie them.
“Just be quiet, Cat,” he said when I opened my mouth to protest.
I clamped my mouth shut and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. When my boot was laced, he reached for the other one lying nearby. His eyes flicked up to me once but he didn’t say anything. He just took my ankle in his hand and lifted my foot to slide in the boot.
I grabbed his shoulders when I started to lose my balance. He tensed, his muscles growing taut under my hands.
A second passed then another. Tension filled the room. I wanted to say something but I couldn’t. His hand was grasping my ankle. So intimate. So possessive. I wanted him to move it higher. Keep going. To the zipper and button on my jeans. I wanted him to yank my pants down. Pull me beneath him on the floor. But he did none of it. Instead, he slid his hand up to my calf and pushed my foot the rest of the way in the boot.
Depressing.
Letting go of my calf like it burned him, he laced the boot up with hurried, angry jerks.
“No sign of Keely and Gavin yet?” I asked, filling the silence.
“No,” he clipped out, yanking one lace too hard.
I worried my bottom lip. “You think they’re okay?”
A muscle ticked in Cash’s jaw. “Gavin will guard her with his life.”
“But you’re still worried?”
He let out a humph – his new form of answering.
“Where is everyone else?” I asked, wanting him to just talk to me.
He glanced up, the coldness in his eyes mixing with the heat that burned in them. “Hunting.”
“So how’d you get stuck babysitting me?”
“Luck,” he deadpanned.
“Hmm. Don’t sound so excited.”
He grunted and finished tying my boot. Great, now we were reduced to grunts and one word answers.
“Well, thank you for this,” I whispered, pointing to my boots. “I couldn’t do it with the wound. Makes me feel like a complete invalid.”
He grimaced, as if my words hurt him. But a second later, if he felt any guilt it was gone. Glaring up at me, he took my hands off his shoulders and let them drop to my sides as if he couldn’t stand for me to touch him. I had to admit. That hurt. The heart he had mended was now torn apart.
Taking his time, he rose to his feet. His warmth invaded me. His body called to mine. He made no effort to move away. No effort to touch me.
Looking down, his gaze moved to the place where my bandage was hidden under my shirt. A frown marred his face. When he glanced back into my eyes, it was with aloofness.
“Keep your thanks, Cat. I don’t want it.”
Hurt ripped through me as he turned and walked away.
My heart hammered against my chest. My hands shook. A lump formed in my throat.
And I was left standing alone.
Waiting. Just waiting for the cowboy I fell in love with to show back up again.
~~~~
The longer I stood there, the angrier I got. I let myself fall in love with Cash. I let myself feel something for him. I was supposed to be the mean one. The bad seed, as my grandmother liked to call me. Cash wasn’t supposed to turn his back on me.
And, dammit, I wouldn’t let him.
Stiffening my spine, I shoved the sheet hanging in the doorway out of the way. I had no idea what I had done but it was time we settled this.
Cash was standing by the kitchen table, loading his shotgun. His hip was cocked and his arm flexed as he shoved shell after shell into the chamber. He looked so damn good but he was still pissed. It showed in the rigid lines of his body. In the set of his mouth.
Well, I could be pissed too.
I shot across the room. Cash set the shotgun on the table carefully and looked up, not surprised to see me.
I flew to a stop in front of him and pulled back my hand. Without thinking of the consequences, I slapped him as hard as I could. My palm connected with his cheek with a resounding smack, echoing across the room.
Cash’s head snapped to one side and a hand print appeared on his face. When he looked back at me, fury glowed in his eyes.
“What the hell
was that for?” he snapped.
I wanted to recoil from the hate I heard in his voice but I stood my ground. “That’s for being an asshole and this one is for being a coldhearted sonofabitch.”
I raised my hand and swung again but he caught my wrist. His fingers dug into the bone without mercy. I refused to flinch and he refused to care. The anger that had been in his eyes was now blistering rage.
“I’ll show you a sonofabitch,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “Then maybe you’ll regret stepping in front of that bullet for me.”
He jerked me to him with his hand around my wrist. I fell against him and yelped but he silenced it quick with his mouth against mine. It was a harsh, ruthless kiss. Demanding and brutal. My teeth cut into my lips. My lungs forgot how to work.
I fought him but he refused to let me go. He was punishing me. Showing me not to mess with him. But I was not easily scared off.
I bit his lip, drawing blood. He growled, a rumble deep from his chest. Letting go of my wrist, he grasped the back of my head, yanking me closer.
I tried jerking away but his fingers fisted in my hair. His mouth ravaged mine. I felt owned, broken, and devoured all at once.
He pushed me back against the table, ramming my hip into the edge. I forgot about the pain radiating from my wound. His tongue licked at the corner of my mouth before plunging back inside, making me forget everything but him.
I hated him for making me feel something. I hated him for being so mean when I needed him most. I tried to push him off me, but he held me immobile. His teeth clashed against mine. His hand fisted in my hair tighter. He reached down and grasped the curve of my hip.
“You’re going to regret ever loving me, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it,” he rasped roughly against my mouth.
Tearing his lips from mine, he spun me around. I didn’t have time to react before he wrapped his hand tightly around the back of my neck and forced me down on the table.
Oh god. He was going to take me like this. Over the table and from behind. His crotch nudged my ass. I could feel his hardness under his jeans. It was just as powerful and demanding as he was.
“Cash, please,” I pleaded, my voice shaky but my body growing wet for him. I needed this. I needed him in me.