by Iris Morland
Rising, he put out a hand. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”
“Only if you pay,” Lizzie said with a bright smile.
“Cheapskate. Fine, come on.”
She laughed and took his hand, threading her arm through his as they walked with no particular destination in mind.
8
Rose threw the tennis ball, laughing as Callie sprinted in the opposite direction to fetch it. At the local dog park that evening—on her day off of work—she’d decided to get some much-needed fresh air to clear her head.
Callie returned with the ball and dropped it at Rose’s feet. Rose ruffled the dog’s fur. “Good girl,” she crooned. “Go get it!”
She threw the ball so far that it landed in the lake. Not one to be put off by a little water, Callie jumped into the lake before Rose could catch her.
“Good thing I just had you groomed,” Rose said in exasperation as Callie returned the ball. Callie panted, water dripping onto Rose’s bare toes, and just waited for Rose to throw the ball for the millionth time.
Rose kept tossing the ball—far away from the lake each time—letting her mind drift.
She’d run into Seth a few times since she and Heath had returned from The Rise and Shine. Seth had been courteous but distant. Rose told herself it was for the best, although she couldn’t help but resent her older brother a little. She knew Heath had said something to Seth, like she was still some little kid needing to be protected.
She grumbled under her breath. “Save me from overbearing men,” she said to Callie as she threw the ball into the nearby woods. “I’d like to kick them all in the groin.”
It was easier to think about Seth avoiding her like some kind of infectious disease than about Johnny’s deadline creeping up on her. Her heart hammered in her chest each time she remembered that damn deadline.
I almost have all the money, she told herself. If I can get him to just take the money…
She wanted to believe she could persuade him to take the money and leave her alone. She wanted to believe it, even if her cynical side knew he wouldn’t.
When she’d made her deal with Johnny, she hadn’t realized all it would entail. She’d thought she’d live with him, maybe do chores for him. Cook him meals, make his bed, clean his house—things like that. She’d been so naïve.
Although she’d been almost twenty-one, she’d still been a virgin. Johnny had taken care of that quickly, though.
The old pain pushed up from her throat, making her eyes sting. She couldn’t call it rape—not really.
She hadn’t said no; yet she hadn’t said yes, either.
She almost laughed at herself. If any other woman had told her a story like that, she would’ve called it rape within seconds. But it was easier to think she’d had a choice. It made it seem more bearable.
Johnny had never hurt her—not physically. He hadn’t hit her; he hadn’t bruised her. But he’d reminded her that she owed him, and that if she left, her brother would suffer the consequences. He’d reminded her that she would be nothing without him.
After a while, she’d believed him.
When Callie barked, Rose jumped, the present rushing back to her. The sun was about to set. How long had she been standing there, staring off into space?
As she walked toward the park’s entrance, she realized that there were no other people or dogs around her. It wasn’t that late—where was everyone? A little shiver chased down her spine, and she started walking more quickly. She felt for her gun, safely stowed in her jacket pocket like always.
Right then, some creature darted into the woods, Callie chasing after it with a loud bark. Rose shouted for her and was about to run after her dog when she heard a twig snap right behind her.
She didn’t wait to see what it was: she whipped around and aimed her gun at whatever was following her. She waited, her body trembling with tension. She knew, with a certainty only gained by experience, that she was no longer alone.
“That’s not very nice,” Johnny said as he emerged from the woods like some creepy specter. “Pointing a gun at me.”
Rose kept the gun leveled straight at his heart. “I still have time,” she said in reply.
“I’m aware.” He pulled out a packet of his stupid clove cigarettes, lighting one as he walked closer. He seemed completely unconcerned about the gun aimed straight at him. He took a drag of his cigarette, making Rose’s eyes water from the smoke.
She hated the smell of cloves.
“I’d recommend you tell me what you want,” she said.
Johnny laughed. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?”
“No.”
“Too bad. I missed you. Did you miss me?” He blew out a cloud of smoke. “Then again, you have new friends. What’s his name, Rosie?”
Her blood turned to ice. She gripped the gun harder, because she was afraid she’d drop it. Swallowing, she took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Even though the light was dim, she still saw the flash in Johnny’s eyes. The same flash that signaled that he was no longer interested in playing nice. Stepping closer, he grabbed the gun’s barrel so quickly that Rose gasped. Dropping his cigarette, he used his free hand to break her grip with a swift slice of his hand on her wrist. Before she knew it, she was disarmed, her gun tossed onto the trail, Johnny’s arms wrapped around her in a grip like a boa constrictor and his forearm pushing against her throat.
“Who is he?” he asked again. “Do you think you can find someone else? You know what happens when you do that.”
She gritted her teeth. When she’d first tried to escape Johnny, she’d enlisted one of his guys into helping her.
It had ended with his man getting beaten so badly as to be unrecognizable. He’d spent months in the hospital as a result.
The thought of Seth getting hurt like that—or worse—because of her terrified her. Seth was a soldier, but he had honor. He didn’t know about the dirty tricks Johnny would play. And even a man like Seth couldn’t defeat a bunch of guys intent on killing him.
“He’s nobody. He’s just my neighbor. Leave him out of this.”
“A neighbor who kisses you? He’s certainly dedicated to being neighborly.”
He pushed his arm tighter against her throat until she saw stars. God, he’s been watching me. What else does he know?
She clawed at his arm until he finally let up enough for her to breathe again. She gasped for air, but Johnny didn’t let her go.
“I have your money,” she rasped. “You said two weeks. I have three more days. Give me that, Johnny.”
He seemed to consider her words. Right when it seemed like he was going to let her go, they both heard something running out of the woods. With a bark of warning, Callie launched herself at Johnny. He screamed, and Rose broke free. She saw the glint of her gun yards away; she said a prayer of thanks for whatever divine spirit had kept it from being lost in the woods.
“Get the fuck off of me!” Johnny yelled as Rose sprinted for her gun. She could hear cloth tearing, and she knew Callie had sunk her teeth into his leg with a force that was unbreakable.
Rose placed a hand on Callie’s head to keep her still, although she didn’t tell her to let Johnny go. “If you don’t keep still, I’ll tell her to rip out your throat,” she said calmly as she pushed the barrel of the gun against the back of Johnny’s neck.
He laughed, but she knew he was scared. Good. Payback for all the times he terrified me.
“Are you going to kill me?” he said lightly, although she almost smiled at the strain in his voice. Callie growled low in her throat.
“No, because I don’t kill people. But unless you get the hell out of here and leave me alone, I’ll rethink my decision.”
Slowly, Johnny raised his hands in surrender. Rose commanded Callie to let him go, although she didn’t move the gun from his neck. She wasn’t about to let him try to hurt her dog.
“Wa
lk. Now.”
Johnny walked, swearing as he limped slowly. Rose could see the blood trail he left from his leg wound.
When they got to the entrance of the park, the sun having completely set and with no one in sight, Rose had him turn around.
“Get in your car, and drive. I don’t care where. But get out of here.”
He sneered. “That’s it? You’ll let me go?”
“Like I said: I will—for now.”
He leaned toward her, but Callie gave a warning bark. He lurched away, his hands up.
“If you think this is over,” he threatened, “you’re wrong. We’ve just begun, Rosie.” He swore at Callie as he limped to his car.
It wasn’t until Johnny drove off that Rose put down her gun. And it was only minutes later—or was it hours? Days?—that she gasped and fell to her knees, the adrenaline rushing away to be replaced by stark fear.
She clutched Callie tightly. “What am I going to do?” she whispered.
No one answered.
Rose didn’t expect to sleep that night. She kept her gun close as she curled up in her nest of blankets on the floor, Callie only feet away. When Callie wouldn’t stop pacing, however, Rose gave in and let Callie join her in her “bed.”
“Just for this once,” she whispered. She knew full well she was doing it more for herself than for Callie.
Callie’s warm weight and the quiet sounds of the night lulled Rose to sleep, but not before her thoughts turned toward Seth. She wondered if she should tell him what was going on. Didn’t he have a right to know, now that Johnny had threatened to hurt him?
She knew the answer. He deserved to know, even if it humiliated her. And even if he never looked at her the same way again.
That thought was her last as she fell asleep. Her dreams were scattered, bizarre, more colors and shapes and sounds than anything else. She vaguely remembered waking up and feeling Callie’s nose next to her ear. But perhaps she’d dreamed it.
Then her dreams became distinctly erotic.
She was—in a cabin? In her apartment?—at the moment, it didn’t matter, because this was a dream. She wore only a lacy negligee, her hair falling down around her shoulders. Roses scented the air; candles were lit throughout. She sat on a bed and waited. She already knew who she waited for, and her heart pounded with anticipation.
Seth entered the room and gave her a heated once-over. Every place his gaze touched felt like fireworks exploding beneath her skin. She rose and pressed her hands against his hard chest—blessedly, wonderfully bare—and she felt the rumble of his voice before she heard it.
“Rose.” He leaned down to kiss the soft spot beneath her ear. “I want you.”
Those simple words nearly made her knees buckle. Sweeping her off her feet, he carried her to the bed and laid her down on the duvet covered in rose petals that had appeared. And then she was naked, and so was he, and she explored him like she’d wanted to do since she’d first met him. She explored him with a courage she didn’t have outside of dreams.
In dreams, she could be the woman she ached to be.
She didn’t know what he looked like under his clothes, but her imagination was vivid regardless. His chest was sprinkled with dark hair, and she traced the lines of his abdomen. He was all muscles and strength and heat, and he smelled like pure male.
He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her up for a kiss that shattered her senses. She felt his body press against her own, so hard against her softness, and she shivered when his cock brushed her hip.
He kissed her until time seemed to stop. He kissed her neck, her breasts, laving her straining nipples. She felt wetness pool between her legs.
“Seth, please. Seth.”
He kissed her belly. He muttered her name. But when he looked up, he was no longer Seth.
It was Johnny.
“I’m so glad you came back to me, Rosie,” he crooned, caressing her hip. “Because you’ve always been mine.”
And she screamed.
She awoke to the sound of her own screaming. It seemed to go on and on. She clapped a hand over her mouth, but sounds still leaked through. Callie barked; Rose shushed her.
She couldn’t stop trembling. All she could see was Johnny’s eyes, his smile, the way he knew he had her and always would. Feeling sick, she rose from the tangled mess of her blankets to stumble to the bathroom. After throwing up the little bit that was in her stomach, she washed out her mouth and brushed her teeth for good measure. Callie followed her around the entire time in canine concern.
When she heard the knock on her front door, she jumped. Callie barked. Her heart pounding furiously, she grabbed her gun from next to her pillow and went to the door. And waited.
Another knock. Then: “Rose, it’s Seth. Let me in. I heard you scream.”
He said the words softly, but she heard the command under them. If she weren’t so freaked out, she’d be annoyed by his tone. She considered telling him to go away, but did she want to be alone right now?
No, she really, really didn’t.
She opened the door to see Seth wearing only boxers, his hair mussed from sleep. Her breath caught. Although it was obviously dark, the illumination from the streetlamps let her know her imagination hadn’t been far off the mark. If anything, her imagination hadn’t been generous enough.
He was cut as if from marble, from his chest to his abdomen. Her gaze traced the line of his hip to the waistband of his boxers.
He cleared his throat, and she jumped.
“Can I come in?” He looked at the gun still in her hand. “Or are you going to really shoot me this time?”
“Oh. Oh, no. Come in.” She gestured for him to follow her, all too aware she herself wore nothing but a tank top and sleep shorts—and no bra. Nobody sane wore a bra to bed, but at the moment, she rather wished she’d kept hers on, because her nipples were already hardening with sheer want.
She set the gun on the kitchen counter and then turned on a lamp in the living room. She blinked at the wash of light, a headache beginning to pound in her temples.
“You heard me?” she asked quietly, suddenly embarrassed. Her cheeks heated, and then they heated even more when she couldn’t offer Seth a place to sit. She just had her single chair in the living room.
“Heard you screaming? Anyone would’ve heard that. Be glad the couple on the other side of you is out of town, otherwise they probably would’ve called the cops.” He eyed her with concern.
She massaged her temples. “It was just a dream. A bad one. I’m sorry to have woken you up.”
“I was already awake.” And then with a twisted smile that made her heart ache, he added, “I have nightmares, too.”
It was strange, this bizarre camaraderie now forming between them. What horrors haunted Seth? No wonder he had dark circles under his eyes so many mornings.
“You can sit, if you like,” she offered.
“And you can sit on the floor?” He shook his head before sitting on the floor in front of the chair. He patted the chair.
She finally sat down, pulling her legs under her. Callie stood guard next to her.
Even though he was below her, wearing only boxers, and obviously exhausted, Seth still managed to seem commanding. His dark eyes assessed her, and she had to restrain herself from looking away.
That gaze could strip her bare within moments—figuratively and literally.
“So,” he said quietly, his gaze never wavering, “are you going to finally tell me what’s going on?”
9
Seth watched as a shudder fell across Rose’s features, and it only made him want to know her better. Shouldn’t women burst into tears and tell men like him about all the monsters under the bed?
He almost snorted. He’d never met a woman like that and he probably never would. He only dealt with stubborn women, brave women, annoying women. Like his twin, Lizzie.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rose finally said.
He clucked his tongue.
“Look, I heard you screaming. Screaming, Rose. Something’s going on, and I’m not leaving this apartment until you tell me what it is.”
Anger flashed in her eyes. Good. He could deal with anger better than he could deal with hysterics. He understood anger.
She glared down at him from her perch on her chair. “I didn’t think you were into harassment, Seth Thornton.”
“I’m not, but I know when somebody needs to talk. You need to talk. You look like shit, by the way.”
That made her laugh, which he’d hoped it would. “You’re an asshole. Go away.”
Before he thought about the consequences, he reached up and pulled her down onto the floor to sit beside him. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t protest. She was warm and soft and smelled like flowers, and he almost buried his nose in the crook of her neck. When she sat halfway on his lap, her hands on his shoulders, she seemed like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to leave his embrace.
Then Callie sneezed, and Rose scrambled away from him.
“Why do you have a gun?” he prodded again. “What scares you? Or who?”
“Maybe I’m just paranoid.”
“Don’t deflect.”
She sighed. She tugged at her braid, which had loosened during sleep. He forced himself not to think about Rose in bed—in his bed—soft and sleepy and a temptation like no other.
“I have nightmares, too,” he repeated.
She stilled, but she didn’t say anything.
“My last tour in Afghanistan…we were on a convoy trip. Nothing but standard procedure. We were just a few miles from base, and we hadn’t had any trouble. Max and I were going to play ball that evening. I’d won our last match and he wanted to even the score.”
Seth swallowed against the lump in his throat. “We’d done three tours together. He’d been a pain in the ass the entire time. When we first met, he told me I couldn’t sit around brooding and that he’d make me laugh at something stupid. I held out for a while, but then he told this joke about a fucking toucan and I laughed. After that…”