by Lauren Smith
“I can’t believe a few little stitches frighten you. You just took on an armed man who shot you. You are the most confusing woman I have ever met.” He ran his fingers through her hair, playing with the strands and soothing her.
“Needles and heights. Not my most favorite things in the world,” she muttered.
“So what are your favorite things?”
She sighed as though she was so tired she might collapse. He wouldn’t blame her after what she’d been through the last few days, let alone just an hour ago.
“Chocolate and marshmallow ice cream, hot sand under my feet, fireflies in the summer, you…”
He caught the last word even though it was barely a whisper. He was one of her favorite things? Something tightened in his chest and heated him with a slow-burning warmth.
Fireflies in the summer. Once upon a time he’d liked fireflies, too.
Buzzing…the pulsating glow fading, growing, fading, growing. The black bug crawling along the glass jar that held it.
The thought seemed from so long ago, more dream than memory, and buried beneath a span of years that weighed as heavy as stones upon his soul. But the more he thought about the past the less his head pained him, as though by no longer denying what had once been his mind wasn’t torn between two worlds and two lives. He pulled himself out of his deep thoughts and focused on Hayden.
“Chocolate and marshmallow ice cream? Really? I didn’t even know that existed. Are you sure you didn’t dream that up?” he teased.
“A woman never jokes about chocolate or ice cream and certainly not when they’re together. That’s serious business.”
She was pouting again, and he couldn’t resist the temptation of her lower lip, full and pink. He kissed her and nibbled that luscious bottom lip. She opened to him eagerly, but not as passionately. She was too worn out, the poor thing. He rubbed her back, wanting nothing more than to have her home and tucked into his bed so he could hold her while she slept.
“Almost done,” the doctor announced as their mouths broke apart.
“Does it hurt?” Fenn asked her.
She gave a little shake of her head. “I hurt in a lot of other places more.”
He tensed. “He hurt you that bad?” When he found that bastard, he was going to rip him limb from limb.
“No, you did, with all that fence-building. My back hurts.” She yawned and her eyes closed for a long period of time before her lashes fanned up again.
“Can I take her home, doc?” he asked.
“Yes. There will be a few release forms to fill out at the front desk. Wake her up every hour for the next four hours, since she has a minor concussion. Give her aspirin if she’s in pain. If needed, I can write a prescription for something stronger. Just give me a call.”
“Thank you.” He shook the doctor’s hand before he helped Hayden back into her tattered shirt. The quicker they could get her home the better.
Holt was still outside. He took one look at Hayden, then turned to Fenn. “I can take her statement tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I’m taking her home.”
“Be careful. Another storm is moving through. It opened up overhead while you were in the exam room. I’ve got a car waiting to take you to the ranch.”
More rain. Normally he would have loved it. Not right now, though. Poor Hayden had been through enough. He let Holt lead them to the overhanging entrance to the hospital, where a Sheriff’s Department SUV was waiting for them. Rain moved in waves over the pavement and Fenn could see the parking lot was flooded beneath the large lot lights. Mist curled up from the pavement like smoke from a dragon’s nostrils. Fairy tales. How strange that he would think of them when he’d not read one in years.
Hayden climbed into the vehicle, then immediately lay down, curled into a ball, and closed her eyes. Fenn jogged around the back of the SUV and opened the door opposite Hayden. Rain pelted his face but he ignored it. Just as he slid into the car, he saw a figure loom out of the night’s shadows. The storm raged and the figure, more darkness than mortal man, slunk back into the night. A chill worked up his spine, digging into his skin like the claws of a hundred small vermin.
Whoever had attacked Hayden had not left for Long Island yet.
The deputy drove them home. Fenn had to shake Hayden awake once and he felt like a bastard.
“Sorry, honey. Doctor’s orders,” he murmured. Her eyes welled up with tears and exhaustion lined her face.
“I just want to sleep,” she begged. It fucking tore him up inside to see her tired and hurting.
He couldn’t blame her. She’d been through hell twice in two days. No woman deserved that, and he’d been out there making her build a damn fence all because he needed to put distance between them. He was a damn fool and a coward, letting some little redheaded spitfire send him running. It was time to stop. He needed to face the fear that he might fall for her. Being with her was worth the risk and he wanted to take it.
“Da—am.” The deputy whistled as he stopped in front of the Taylors’ ranch house and saw the trailer.
Fenn’s home was nothing more than a massive gray skeleton, looking like the rotting half-burnt carcass of an ancient silver dragon consumed by the flames from its own belly. Funny…he rarely thought of his life in such fantastical ways, but the stronger the mental connection to Emery grew, so too did this odd view of his life. Whispers of princes, of scaled beasts, and fierce battles seemed to steal into his mind more often of late.
“Don’t you remember?” A voice asked in his head. “Stories we told each other while…” Pain and flashes of fairy-tale stories of boys fighting off dragonlike beasts radiated through the shared bond with Emery.
“I’m sorry,” Fenn muttered aloud.
“What?” The deputy asked as he got out of the vehicle.
“I’m talking to myself,” he explained as he carried a sleeping Hayden to the house. Inside, Wes, Jim, and Callie were all seated around the living room, faces pale and grim.
“I’ll be right back,” he told them before he brought Hayden upstairs. He took her into the bathroom and started a shower, making sure the water was hot. She leaned, half-asleep, against the wall as he stripped her of her clothes and then nudged her into the stall. At any other time he would have been distracted and aroused by her nakedness, but right now all he saw was his woman, hurt and needing him to care for her. He reached behind his head and gripped the back of his shirt, pulling it up and over his body before he tossed it to the floor. He needed to get into the stall with her. He stripped out of his jeans but left his boxers on. They’d be easy to change if they got soaked.
“What are you doing?” she mumbled, blinking at him in a daze as he stepped into the shower with her.
“Joining you, honey. Be careful to keep your arm dry. We shouldn’t get those stitches and the bandage wet.” He fought to ignore her nakedness as he helped wash the blood and dirt from her skin.
“I can do it.” The childlike, petulant retort made her impossibly adorable.
“I know you can, honey. I’m just helping you. You’re mine, and I care for what’s mine.”
“I’m sorry you have to do this,” she apologized as he rubbed a washcloth over her shoulders.
Her comment made him pause. “Why are you sorry? This isn’t your fault; it’s mine. You got hurt because of me. I failed to keep you safe.” The admission cut his throat like glass as he swallowed down his self-loathing. He vowed in that moment he would find whoever had done this and make him pay. If that meant he had to be on the first plane to Long Island tomorrow, that’s what he’d do.
“It’s not your fault, it’s his—the man who did this to me.” She caught him off guard when she stood shakily up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, before collapsing against him a little with a heavy sigh.
He fought off a grin at the way she blinked sleepily and leaned closer, relying on his strength. That made him feel…wonderful, to know she trusted him to care for her when she was at her weakest.
She blinked, tears mixing with the water on her skin, and held it out to him. “Please. I can’t…I feel kind of weak.”
Her plaintive plea undid him and warmth and sadness filled his chest. He wanted to protect her, take care of her, and she’d gotten hurt, almost killed because of him. Some hero he was. He took the bottle and helped her wash her hair. They worked as a team—he gave her everything she needed and she accepted it without fighting him.
After he’d seen that she was clean and warm from the hot water, he asked if she was done.
“I feel better, but still sleepy,” she admitted.
“Then let’s get you into bed.” He helped her out of the shower and dried her thoroughly with a fluffy white towel. She stood mute and half-awake as he helped her into a large t-shirt and a pair of his boxers, then tucked her into his bed. He’d wake her soon, but for now he’d let her rest. She curled into a tiny ball beneath the covers, lashes resting on her cheeks as she drifted off.
He leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her brow before he put his jeans back on and grabbed a fresh shirt.
When he joined the others back in the living room, he settled into one of the empty chairs. Coda rushed to him and leaned against his knee, bumping her wet nose against his hand.
“How is she?” Wes asked.
“Fine. Had to have a couple of stitches in her arm.”
Hayden’s brother winced. “How’d you get her to agree to that? She hates needles.”
Fenn’s smile was grim. “I convinced her. She had a minor concussion and I’ll need to wake her every hour for the next four hours.”
Jim rubbed his eyes. “Did she explain what happened to her?”
“Apparently the attacker was looking to send a message to me. He faked an assault on purpose, hoping it would piss me off and make me careless. It’s working. He also told her that he was returning to Long Island, and that if I wanted revenge that’s where I should look.”
“It’s obvious it’s a trap,” Callie said. In her hands she nursed a pale blue cup of hot tea. She blew on it before sipping, but her eyes were heavy with seriousness.
“Yes,” Wes agreed. He braced his elbows on his knees and stared off into the distance. “The other man, the one that Emery killed the other night, did the same thing. Attacked Sophie to draw him out.”
“Are you suggesting I should stay here and not take the bait?” Fenn’s voice was low and almost a growl. The rage he’d kept at bay until now was slowly boiling to the surface. He wanted to find the man responsible for what had been done to Hayden and beat him to a bloody pulp.
“No. We need to go,” Wes agreed. “What I’m saying is that we need to expect and prepare for trouble. Emery will have to be told, and he’ll make the necessary preparations to keep everyone safe.” Wes seemed confident but Fenn wasn’t.
“How do you know that will help? We have to stop this guy at some point and find out who’s behind this, or else we’ll all be running scared for the rest of our lives and hiding behind locked doors with guards. I can’t live that way. Can you?” Fenn was on his feet again, pacing. His ankle still twinged and he’d given up on letting it heal. He’d worry about that when all of this was over. Coda whined and shifted restlessly as she watched him pace. He stopped, stroked her head, and ruffled her ears.
“None of us wants to live in fear, Fenn, but we can’t rush anything. It’s what this enemy wants,” Wes argued.
“Wes is right,” Jim interjected. “He’s been handling this situation longer than you, son, and I think we should trust him on this.”
Wes nodded in appreciation. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. Here’s what I think we need to do. Fenn, you need to call Emery, and I’ll make the travel arrangements. Mr. Taylor and Callie should stay here since they have the ranch to watch out for. Speaking of that, Mr. Taylor, I’d like a word with you later. Once Emery knows we are returning to Long Island, Fenn, Hayden and I will fly home. There we’ll create a plan to draw out this bastard and the person who hired him. Does anyone have any objections to this?”
Fenn scowled. “Just one. Hayden should stay here. She’s been in too much danger already.”
The other man shook his head. “The last time I told my sister to stay somewhere, she took the family jet and flew to Colorado. That’s a mistake I’m not going to make again. I can promise you that once we return home, our parents will keep her busy and out of our way.”
“I don’t think she’d like that very much.”
Wes shrugged. “It’s that or put her in danger.”
He was right, Fenn thought. Once they were on Long Island, they needed to keep Hayden away from anything they planned to do.
“Fine. As long as we keep her out of danger.” Fenn held out his hand. “Can I borrow your phone? I want to call Emery now. Will he mind if it’s this late?”
His friend stood and pulled his phone from his pocket, then held it out. “Here. He’s in my contacts. He won’t mind; not if it’s you calling.”
“Thanks.” Fenn took the phone and walked out of the living room, needing fresh air.
Outside the firemen had finished putting out the fire and were packing up their gear.
“We’re done here, Mr. Smith. We’ll send out a truck to haul this away tomorrow morning,” one of the firemen said.
Fenn stared at the trailer for a long moment before replying. “That’d be fine. Thanks.”
The truck left, and he stood alone by the destroyed, blackened ruins of his home. He just stared at it. Inside he could see one picture from his past still hanging by a magnet on the fridge. Anger churned inside him as he stalked up to the trailer and carefully climbed the steps, not touching the still-hot metal. He removed the magnet and held the photo, brushing ash off its surface. It was a picture of him when he was fourteen, holding Callie’s hand and posing for their first day of school. He smoothed a thumb over the photo, picked his way out of the trailer, and dialed his brother.
Emery answered on the second ring. “Wes? Is everything okay?”
“It’s me,” Fenn said quietly. “I borrowed Wes’s phone. We have a situation here.”
There was a pause, then a deep breath. “Is everyone okay?”
“Let’s just say I had a small taste of what you went through with Sophie. Hayden was shot by some masked bastard. He hurt her, knocked her out with a blow to the head, and burned down my trailer.”
“Fuck,” Emery snarled. “Is Hayden okay?”
“She’s a little battered, had to have a few stitches. He used her to send me a message. He’s heading to Long Island. He wants to throw me off by making me go after him. Wes said I needed to warn you and tell you we’re leaving, probably in a day. As soon as we can. He said you’d want to make preparations.”
Emery laughed darkly. “Yeah, I definitely will. Are you okay? Seeing the woman you care about getting hurt because of you can fuck with a guy. Not that I’m saying it’s your fault, but it’s hard not to feel guilty. Just don’t let it get to you because that’s what he wants. I guarantee it.”
Fenn closed his eyes and held his breath a moment. What had happened to Hayden had made him mad, more than mad. It scared him.
“Emery, I’m sick of being scared. I want to end this and not worry about anyone I care about ever being hurt again.”
“I’m right there with you, brother. We need to finish this. I’ve got a wedding to plan,” Emery chuckled, his tone much lighter.
“Wedding?” Fenn choked out the word. “I just found out I have a brother, and now you’re getting married?”
“It’s sudden, but sometimes you just know what you need when you see it. I need Sophie. She’s like the air in my lungs. I can’t live without her. What’s the point in waiting when you know that?”
“True. For the younger brother, you’re wise,” Fenn laughed.
“Only recently. Before I met Sophie, I was a f
ool.”
Both of them shared another laugh.
“I’ve got to go check on Hayden. Wes or I will call you with the details of when we plan to arrive.” Fenn started walking back toward the house.
“Thanks. Mom and Dad will be so excited to see you.”
A lump formed in his throat. “I’m nervous about meeting them.”
“Don’t be,” Emery replied softly. “We’ll talk tomorrow, brother.”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed, and they both hung up.
Chapter 18
Flames licked along the metal trailer, consuming, melting, destroying. Hayden lay helpless, unable to move, to scream. The black-masked man stood above her, eyes cold but not evil. How were they not evil? She couldn’t understand. Thick gray smoke curled around her prone body, covering her up until she was surrounded by gray, suffocating clouds.
“Help!” The cry left her lips on silent wings, to vanish unheard.
“Hayden.” A deep, familiar voice and a gentle shake jolted her out of the nightmare that had felt only too real.
“Fenn?” She rolled in the tangled sheets and threw herself at him, seeking the comfort she hoped he would provide. He eased down onto the bed beside her and she noticed he was still dressed. Did he only just come into the room? Had her screams been loud enough to hear outside the bedroom?
“Easy, honey.” He curled his arms around her body and she molded herself to him. “What’s the matter?”
Her tongue felt thick, and for a moment she was caught back in that awful world of smoke and pain. Why did he always have to see her at her weakest?
“Just a nightmare.” She attempted to sound casual, but didn’t release her hold on him.
He patted her back. “Just a nightmare? You’re squeezing me pretty hard for some silly dream.”
He wasn’t calling her a coward or making fun of her, but his comment seemed to encourage her to speak up about what she was feeling. She didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted him to hold her.