by Zoe Chant
"But—" Gaby began. "My job, my classes—"
"It could be your job or your life," Keegan said. "Is it worth it for a minimum wage job pulling coffee shots?"
"It's not about that," Gaby snapped. "It's about providing for my family and building a better life for them and myself."
"Gaby." Derek gently turned her to face him. "I get where you're coming from, believe me, but I think it's time to start considering that you might need to get out of the city for a little while. If nothing else, think about your boss and the other people you work with. If the Ghost comes for you, everyone at the coffee shop will be in danger."
Gaby sighed and buried her hands in her hair.
"He's right, Gabriella," her mother said softly.
And that was the worst part: they were right. After what had happened at her apartment building, she couldn't go on justifying putting the people around her in danger to hang onto her old life.
It's temporary, she promised herself, and got out her phone to call Polly.
Polly was nothing but sympathetic. "I thought you might make that decision. I've already got someone lined up to help with the morning shift tomorrow."
"You're the best," Gaby said, relieved. "But this won't be for long, I swear. Only until this situation is dealt with."
"Just stay safe," Polly told her.
As Gaby hung up, she looked at her family. Sandy was in Luisa's lap, eating chicken nuggets off the edge of Luisa's plate.
We'll ALL be safe, she thought firmly. Or, so help me, I'm making a polar bear skin rug out of that bastard.
Chapter Nine: Derek
It was the darkest and coldest part of the night when Derek pulled up in front of Keegan's cabin, or at least, the most likely candidate to be the right cabin, based on the vague directions Keegan had given him. They'd wound their way down little country roads, leaving the last town behind and driving up into the mountains. The turnoff to the actual driveway (if you could call it that) was marked only with a dab of reflective orange paint on a tree.
Derek knew Keegan was private, but he'd never realized the guy liked his privacy quite this much.
Still, as the Mustang's headlights swept across the dark cabin, Derek relaxed a little. He knew they hadn't been followed—on these rural roads, it would have been obvious—so the only way anyone could find them was if they got the address out of Keegan, which wasn't likely. Nowhere in the city felt safe, not with Ghost on the hunt. Out here, Derek felt like they'd gained a little breathing room.
The problem was, if Ghost did find them, help would be hours away and there was nowhere to run except the woods.
Yeah, but the woods are where I'm most at home. Bring it, asshole.
He killed the engine and glanced over at Gaby in the passenger seat. It was almost completely dark, the only light shed by the cold bright points of the stars overhead, but with his shifter-enhanced night vision, he could just barely glimpse her tired smile. She'd been quiet for most of the drive—worn out, he thought, as the incredibly busy and exhausting day had finally caught up with her. Still, every time he'd glanced over at her, she had been awake, gazing out at the dark scenery.
"Ready to get some shut-eye?" he asked her quietly.
"I guess so. I'm not really sleepy." Then she belied her own words with a sudden yawn. "Okay, maybe I am. Mama, are you awake back there?"
"Wide awake, dear. But our little one has been out for hours."
Derek glanced into the backseat. Sandy was fast asleep, lying down with his head in Luisa's lap.
"It looks like there are steps up to the cabin porch, Mama," Gabriella said. "I can help you with your walker."
"Oh, heavens, my heart. I can handle a couple of steps."
"For the moment, you should all stay here," Derek told them. "I'm just going to look around first."
Gaby made a hurt noise. "Oh, I'm so tired of this." There was a world of exhaustion in her voice that made Derek want to take her in his arms and shield her from the world.
And it also made him want to say, If you think you're tired now, wait until you've been on the run for weeks or months. But she didn't know what that was like. And he didn't ever want her to know. If this was the most pain and terror that Gaby Diaz ever felt, then he would have done his job. He wished she'd never even had to feel this much, but all he could do was go ahead and try to keep her safe from here on out.
He left Gaby and her family in the car, and climbed onto the cabin's porch, gun in hand, all his senses alert. The healing injury tugged beneath his shirt, reminding him of the steep price that a lack of caution could bring.
But he had no sense of danger here. When he inhaled the night air, letting his bear close enough to the surface to sharpen his sense of smell, all he could detect were the scents of pine trees, grass, and the Mustang's cooling engine. He heard nothing to alarm him. There had been no other recent car tracks on the driveway.
The door opened easily at a turn of Keegan's key, and Derek flicked on the lights, showing him a small, comfortable living room with exposed wooden beams and overstuffed furniture. There was no TV, but there were shelves of paperback novels and a small fireplace with a stone hearth.
It was a nice little retreat from the world. He could see why Keegan liked it up here.
The cabin was small enough that he could explore it in a few minutes. There were two downstairs bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen nook. The upstairs was nothing more than a loft with another bedroom and some storage space. Everything was neat and tidy. The beds were stripped down to bare mattresses, but he found plenty of sheets and pillows. There was no sign anyone had been in here. When he tested the cabin's phone, he got a dial tone, although a quick check of his cell phone showed no reception. They would be dependent on the land line to communicate with the outside world.
Coming out onto the porch, he was annoyed to find Gaby getting her family's things out of the trunk. "I told you to stay in the car," he said, holstering the gun as he loped over to her.
"It's safe here, though, isn't it?" she said. "I can tell by the way you're acting. You were very different at the hotel."
Was he? The idea that she could read him so easily made something twist in his chest. It had been a very long time since he'd allowed anyone to know him so well. Perhaps no one ever had.
"Yeah, it's safe," he said. "You still should have stayed in the car."
"I'm allowed to make my own judgment calls some of the time. Or didn't you mean what you said at the hotel, about me being brave?"
Stubborn mate. She was definitely a woman who could go head-to-head with an equally stubborn bear ... but of course, as his mate, she'd have to be. "Yeah, you are. But this is my area of expertise, all right?"
Gaby paused and looked up at him, her eyes glimmering in the starlight. "All right," she said solemnly. "You're right. When it comes to personal safety, I'll do as you say. But ..." Now he caught a glimmer of a teasing smile. "In my areas of expertise, you have to do what I say."
"I thought we established that at the coffee shop."
"Yes, we did, didn't we?" She slid an arm around his waist and stretched on tiptoe to give him a quick peck on the lips. "My big, bad barista."
The car door opened, making Gaby jump. "Why doesn't your big, bad barista put those big, nicely muscled arms to good use," Luisa suggested, "and carry your sleeping son into the house?"
"Mama!"
"I'd be happy to," Derek said.
Luisa handed the limp, fast-asleep child out of the backseat, into his arms. Derek stood still for a moment, stunned by the small, yet oddly dense weight against his chest. The child was heavier than he had expected for something so tiny, though of course not even approaching difficult for him to pick up.
Or maybe it was only the weight of all that potential that felt so heavy, all those not-yet-fulfilled expectations that went along with being a child.
And these people trusted him, with his scarred and blood-stained hands, to hold this child?
/> It was the closest he'd come so far to thinking I can't do this.
But his mate was standing beside him, looking up at him with eyes that held nothing but trust and love.
"Get the door?" he asked her gruffly, and she nodded.
Carefully, acutely aware of the precious burden he carried, he climbed the steps to the porch with Sandy's curly, sleeping head resting against his chest. Gaby opened the door for him, and then hurried back down to give her mother a hand up the steps.
Derek realized once he was inside that he hadn't told her the beds weren't made. He laid Sandy carefully on the couch; the child squirmed, pressed his face into the couch cushions, and went back to sleep. Derek got out an armload of bedding and started making the beds.
"He makes beds too!" came Luisa's approving voice from the doorway, followed instantly by the now-familiar, exasperated exclamation of "Mother!" from further away; Gaby seemed to be out in the kitchen area somewhere.
Luisa, however, came into the bedroom, moving carefully with her walker, which she pushed against the wall. With sharp eyes, she watched Derek tuck the sheet under the edge of the bed in crisp, military-neat corners, and gave a brief, satisfied nod.
"Gimme a hand with those blankets?" Derek asked.
Between the two of them, they pulled a blanket tight across the bed, and Derek held the pillows while Luisa slipped on their cases. "It's always easier with two," she remarked. "I used to do housework with Gaby like this, when she was a girl."
"It was just the two of you?"
"For a good long time, it was." A flicker of a very deep and very old sorrow crossed her face, but then it was chased away by a slightly wistful smile. "And it's just been you for a very long time, I'd guess."
"You'd be right about that, ma'am." He hesitated. "Want to help me fix up the other bedroom?"
"I'd love to." Luisa plumped the pillows and limped out of the room after him, leaving the walker behind.
"So tell me about your parents," she said as they worked together to fix the bed in the other bedroom. "Still alive?"
"Both dead. My grandparents raised me. They're dead now, too. No siblings." Derek smiled briefly as he reached for the pillows. "Is this the kind of interview you give your daughter's bodyguard, or—"
"Or the man my daughter might be dating? No need to look guilty about it. I've been hoping for years that Gaby will think about herself once in awhile, rather than always putting other people first as she does. She needs to find a nice man, I tell her."
"And am I, you think?" Derek asked quietly, looking down at his hands on the pillows. Big hands, browned by the sun, callused from handling guns and knives.
"If I didn't think you were a good man, you would know it," Luisa said, just as quietly. "I wouldn't have a bad man in my house, at my dinner table."
"You've only known me for a few hours."
"Yes, and so? The first time I ever spoke to Gaby's father, I said to myself, Luisa, that is the man you are going to marry. And I did."
Did humans have fated mates, too? Derek had never really considered it. Gaby certainly seemed to feel the same longing and trust for him that he felt for her.
"Make my daughter happy, Derek," Luisa said softly. "Protect her. Take care of her every day of her life."
"Trust me, ma'am, that's all I want to do."
Luisa smiled. "And that is all I need to hear. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm an old woman and I am going to bed. You can put Alejo in the other bedroom downstairs, so I will hear him if he needs anything in the night. And you and Gaby can take the upstairs bedroom."
"Good night, ma'am," Derek told her. Feeling slightly dazed, he went out to the living room and picked Sandy up carefully off the couch.
Gaby was looking at the spines of the books on the shelves lining the walls. She looked up quickly and gave him a smile, then followed him into the bedroom and pulled the covers down. Derek laid Sandy carefully on the bed. Gaby slipped his shoes off, pulled the covers up, and leaned over to kiss his forehead.
Quietly, shutting the lights off behind them, they went back out to the living room. The door to Luisa's bedroom was closed.
"Front door is locked, right?" Derek asked. Gaby nodded. "It looks like your mother has assigned our bedrooms. I hope you're okay with the upstairs one."
"Of course I am, and of course she has," Gaby sighed. "I hope she didn't ask you too many embarrassing questions. I once caught her asking my prom date about his masturbation habits. The poor kid was mortified."
"She's looking out for you, though. You're lucky to have her."
"I know. It's just ..." She lowered her voice and said with a slight smile, "Sometimes I wish there was a little less of her. I love my mom, but sharing a two-bedroom apartment with her can really be a lot of mom."
"Well, she's tucked safely in bed now, so you want to see what the upstairs bedroom is like?"
It was actually the one Derek would've chosen for himself anyway. He had a feeling this was probably where Keegan stayed when he was at the cabin. Panthers liked to be up high. Derek didn't have that urge in general, but he liked the way the bedroom's several small windows looked out onto the woods.
Gaby was the one who pointed out a trap door in the ceiling, while Derek fixed the bed. "Where does that go?"
"Attic, probably."
But it wasn't an attic. When they climbed up the fold-down ladder, they found a little cupola on top of the roof, just big enough to accommodate the two of them, and just tall enough for Derek to stand up straight. There was a bench built into the wall, and windows all around. If the bedroom had offered a nice view of the woods, this observation tower—and Derek had no doubt that was what it was—took it up a notch. From up here, you could see anyone approaching the cabin from any direction. He looked down at the Mustang parked in front of the cabin, the woodshed beside it, and the dark sea of the woods sloping down to distant neighbors' lights.
"I'm not sure what to think about this Keegan guy," Gaby murmured. She slid an arm around Derek's waist. "I almost feel like I'm in a sniper nest. Ex-military, is he?"
"He's actually an engineer, believe it or not."
Gaby laughed. "They don't make engineers like that at my school."
The reminder that she was going to school made him think, again, about the vast gulf in life experience between the two of them. It wasn't that much of a difference in age. She was at least in her mid-20s, only a few years younger than he was. But he'd gone places, seen things, done things that he couldn't expect her to understand.
And yet ...
She'd done things he hadn't, either. She was raising her son on her own, and supporting a disabled mother at the same time. And if he knew her at all, he knew that she did it quietly and uncomplainingly, day after day.
"Penny for your thoughts," Gaby said, leaning her head against his chest.
"Just thinking we might not be that different, after all."
She laughed incredulously. "I've seen those scars you have. You keep telling me I'm brave, but—"
"It's not a lie." He tilted her head back with a finger on her chin, and lightly sampled her sweet lips. "Not many people would've been able to do what you did. Not many people could do what you do every day."
"What, go to work at a coffee shop?"
"And come home, take care of your son and mother, and take classes so you can work your way to a better life for them. No, Gaby, not many people could do that."
"I keep feeling like you've built me up in your head to be this amazing person, and you're going to get to know me and be disappointed."
"Trust me, Gaby." He kissed her again, lightly sipping at her full lips. "Nothing about you could ever be boring to me."
Their soft kisses turned heated and passionate. Fire blazed through him, igniting at her touch. No one he'd ever known had been able to get this kind of response from him. Gaby did it as easily as breathing. And part of the reason for that was how genuine and honest she was. Gaby was completely and utterly herself, e
very minute of the day.
Part of it, of course, was that she was his mate, and he would always burn for his mate's touch. He'd been yearning for it since long before he knew she existed.
But it was also Gaby, the whole enticing package of her. He loved her soul and he loved her mind. She was kind and smart and fun to talk to. The heat that burned in him could not have blazed so brightly for anyone else on Earth.
He cupped his hands under her enticing buttocks. She gasped against his mouth and thrust her hips against him, pushing her crotch into his burgeoning erection.
"I don't know about you," she murmured, biting at his lip, "but I'm sure ready for round two. And unless that's something else in your pocket, I think you are too."
"Mmmm. The only thing I have in my pocket is for you." He winced. "Okay, that wasn't my best-ever attempt at dirty talk."
"How about this?" She looped her arms around his neck and leaned close to murmur into his ear, in a husky whisper, "I want you to lay me back on these bench cushions and fuck me 'til I go out of my mind."
His cock registered enthusiastic approval. "You win," he said hoarsely. "The dirty talking award goes to Gabriella Diaz. But let's do it downstairs. I don't want to risk kicking out a window or falling through the trapdoor."
Also, it didn't seem like good houseguest behavior without at least bringing up a blanket to throw over the bench seat. He filed it away for a future possibility, though. Making love up here would be like making love among the stars.
He climbed down the ladder in a few quick hops, just in time to get a lovely view of Gaby's round hips and delicious thighs as she descended after him. Derek caught her around the waist before she'd reached the floor and swept her off the ladder. Gaby's initial squeal of laughter was quickly muffled behind her hand, reminding Derek that they had to be quiet to avoid waking the household. Rather than collapsing onto the bed with her as he'd planned, he laid her down gently, while Gaby's eyes sparkled at him.
So they'd have to be quiet. He could do that. He grinned back at her, and started undoing the fastening on her jeans.