Tall, Silent & Lethal

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Tall, Silent & Lethal Page 22

by R. L. Mathewson

Page 22

  With a little grumble and a grunt, she turned in his arms and plastered herself against him. She ignored his hiss of surprise as she pressed her cool cheek against his shoulder. If he hadn't invited himself into her bed she might have felt bad, but then again, she wouldn't even be in this mess if he hadn't ditched her ass today. This was his fault, she reminded herself as she placed her cold hand on his chest and nearly smiled when he released another hiss.

  “Better?” he asked, sounding almost concerned, but she knew that he really wasn't. He was probably doing this out of guilt more than anything. Marta was mad at him and he was probably being nice to her to earn his sister's forgiveness.

  If she hadn’t already known that Christofer was the one that owned the house and had the money she would have suspected that he was using his much older sister. She'd seen it enough times to recognize the signs. She hated when relatives who didn't give a damn showed up occasionally just to get on the good side of the elderly person she was working for to gain a spot in their wills. It was sickening and she was glad that it wasn't going on here. She really liked Marta, probably more than she'd liked any of her previous employers, and she didn't want to see her hurt.

  The real reason, and something that actually stunned her once she’d realized what was going on here, was that Christofer genuinely cared about his sister even if he was lazy about showing it. In a way it was actually kind of odd. The two of them acted as though they'd been raised together when they had be at least fifty years apart. Sometimes Marta treated Christofer like the older sibling. That is, when she wasn't going out of her way to torment her brother. It was a little odd, but she'd seen odder things over the years.

  “Go to sleep, Cloe. You're safe,” Christofer said, earning a snort from her.

  Yeah, right. Like she'd be able to sleep. She knew it would be several days before she managed to fall asleep. She'd be too damn afraid to close her eyes, but she appreciated the offer all the same and of course the body heat.

  She snuggled tightly against him as her eyes began to droop, noting that she felt oddly safe in his arms.

  Chapter 11

  “What's wrong, Christofer?” Marta asked, appearing concerned as he made his way quickly down the stairs.

  “Everything is fine. I'll be back in a minute. Grab your purse,” he said, desperately struggling against the urge to go back upstairs and rip into Cloe's neck.

  If he didn't get downstairs within the next minute he knew there would be nothing to stop the monster inside of him from taking over. Holding her in his arms all night had been heaven and hell for him. Being that close to someone was something he usually never allowed for himself. He'd pleasured women before, but he'd never been able to relax his guard enough to hang around long enough to hold them afterwards or cared enough to do it. The only woman he'd ever cared about was Marta.

  When they’d first escaped the camp, she'd been scared, traumatized, and in no shape to face the world alone. Every night he’d held her in his arms, singing all those songs that used to annoy him, but that she loved. He sang them until his voice was raw and she was sleeping deeply. Whenever she woke up in the middle of the night, he started all over again. He did that until she was a grown woman and no longer needed him.

  Before he’d made his promise to Marta, he’d resigned himself to seeking a temporary escape in the arms of women. No matter how many women he’d pleasured, he couldn't escape the bitter loneliness or the creeping sensation that always reminded him that he couldn't trust them. He couldn't trust anyone but Marta and that knowledge made it damn difficult to focus on the woman begging for more. More often than not, old panic would surge through him as he tried to take a woman and he'd have no choice but to leave. It was the main reason why he hadn't sought out a woman to warm his bed in over fifty years.

  Last night while he’d held Cloe in his arms he’d willed her to fall asleep before the panic could take over and force him to flee her bed, but it never came. Instead, he found himself enjoying the feel of her in his arms. While she’d slept, he took his time studying her face, running his fingers carefully through her hair and breathing in her unique scent. Until a few hours ago he’d been able to ignore how enticing her blood was, but once hunger hit, it had become a struggle that he’d almost lost several times.

  The sun hadn't been able to rise fast enough for him. When the cravings began a few short hours ago, he should have just left to save himself the torture of being near her and not being able to have her, but he hadn't been able to forget the fear that he saw in her eyes last night. That alone kept him in her bed and his arms wrapped around her. When the sun had risen high enough that he’d felt it was safe to leave her, he hadn't been able to get away fast enough.

  Another minute and he would have ripped into her throat without a second thought. As he made his way downstairs, he had to fight against the urge to do just that. His stomach growled viciously as he caught a hint of her mouthwatering scent coming off his clothes. His hand shot out and grabbed the railing as he struggled for control. In seconds, the hardwood banister snapped beneath his hand as he fought his body's demand to go take what was rightfully his.

  He shoved that disturbing thought away as he forced his feet to carry him the rest of the way to his refrigerator. In seconds, he had a bag of blood stuck on his teeth and another two in his hands, ready to take its place before the last drop was gone. By the time he’d moved onto his sixth bag, he was already calculating the amount of blood that he was going to need to order to make sure that there were no more close calls.

  Even as he decided that the only safe way to do this was to triple his order, he realized that the smartest thing to do would be to send her away. It wouldn’t be too difficult. After the scare she’d had last night it probably wouldn’t be tough to make her want to leave. If he hadn’t realized just how badly he’d f**ked up last night that’s exactly what he would be doing.

  Instead, he was making plans to binge on blood to keep her safe so that she could stay. If she’d had family, someone that he thought would take her in and care for her, he wouldn’t hesitate in sending her packing, but she didn’t. After Marta had refused to fire her the first night, he’d done a little investigating of his own. All of her family had been killed years ago in a lodge fire. She’d been the only one to survive, but she hadn’t come out of it unscathed. Her back was proof of that.

  She’d spent three months in a trauma center after the fire and then two and a half years bouncing around in the foster care system. Once she’d turned eighteen, she’d started to work a string of shitty jobs while she’d put herself through school. Once she had her nursing degree, she used it to travel the country. It wasn’t difficult to figure out that she didn’t seem to like to stay anywhere for long. He doubted that she’d stay here for very long, but until he felt that she would be okay and he found her a new position that was safe for a young woman with no family, she was staying.

  Chapter 12

  Before last night, Cloe could have honestly said that she didn’t embarrass very easily, but now…. .

  Now, she was actually looking forward to Christofer firing her this morning so that she had the excuse she needed to leave without looking like the coward that she truly was. Last night had been a mortifying experience, one that she fully planned on forgetting. The faster that she put distance between her and this house, the better.

 

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