“Cops kill people,” Wolf replied.
“They protect people,” she rebuffed.
“I've protected people,” Wolf told her. “Police kill bad guys. I kill bad guys.”
“You were going to kill me. I'm not a bad guy.”
“I was misled. Even cops have unwittingly killed innocents,” Wolf replied. Once again he tossed more wood onto the fire.
“But they answer for it, they grieve over it. Do you grieve, Wolf?”
“No. I also don't have to do the paperwork.”
“Who have you protected?” Casey asked with curiosity.
“A little kitten,” he said, and smiled softly.
Casey wondered at the now endearing look on his normally impassive face. “Do you like kittens?”
“I like this one. She belongs to a friend of mine,” Wolf replied.
Casey noted with interest the thoughtful look Wolf wore. She decided he was talking about a woman, not an animal. He must hold great affection for her.
“Do you love her?” Casey asked. She was thinking about what he had said, that they weren't so different. He had loved his dad. His father must have loved his mother.
“She's like a sister. I don't have any sisters,” Wolf told her abruptly.
Casey watched as his thoughtful look turned to smoldering anger. “Did you have a sister?”
Instead of answering, Wolf threw the large stick he was holding onto the blazing fire, and then turned. Casey watched him stroll off and sit down away from the flames. The day was hot as hell's blazes, and she was sweating from her exertion. She wandered over to sit beside him. For once, Wolf was not watching her; his mind seemed elsewhere. That alone piqued her interest.
“What happened to her?” Casey asked quietly, understanding the look of grief.
Wolf offered her a long, assessing look. She was genuinely interested; she could sense his distress and felt a certain amount of compassion. She could see his internal struggle and wondered if Wolf was resisting the urge to rise and walk away. He gazed off into the distance, his mind obviously reaching for a painful memory. When he began speaking, his words were soft, distraught, self-condemning, and painful. Casey prepared herself for obvious heartache.
“When she was eight, she and I were playing at a small pond close to home. It was summer and we were going to look for polliwogs. It was such a beautiful morning. I was only a year older, her big brother. I stood a whole head taller than her and already outweighed her by a good thirty-five pounds. My father told me to watch her, to protect her when he left that day. It was something he always said while ruffling my hair and smiling at me, like he was proud of me. I never let her out of my sight; we were inseparable. I loved her; it made me happy to know my dad trusted me.
“She was giggling, smiling, and so full of life as she skipped ahead, not too far, always turning back to look and see if I would give in to chase her. I always did, but I was faster. I let her win the race to the willow trees. I knew it made her happy—not because she won, but because I let her win.
“As she turned, she reached to brush her long hair from her eyes. Her smile fell from her face, her bucket dropped to the ground, and she looked so frightened. I stopped right where I was, wondering what was wrong, feeling angry that something scared my baby sister. I remember balling my fists, spinning to look where her eyes had settled. The man came from out of nowhere, surprising me.
“He was big, almost as big as my dad, almost as big as I am now. He backhanded me hard, and I flew into a tree, hitting my head. I was knocked out. When I came to, it was early afternoon. I crawled over to her. She wasn't moving. There was blood trickling out the corner of her mouth and nose. Her face was red. He had struck her, too. She was so small the blow had killed her. I picked her up and stumbled home.” Wolf ended his story, his face once more impassive.
“You couldn't have stopped him; you were too small, and so young. You're lucky he didn't kill you,” Casey said kindly. She felt her eyes tear. What an awful thing to have happened. Casey had a better understanding as to why Wolf had wanted to kill her. He had thought she had murdered a helpless child, a female child, and one the exact same age as his poor little sister. It must have stirred deep feelings of rage within him.
“I stop people like that now,” Wolf replied. Abruptly, he rose from his position and stalked away as though angry with himself. Casey watched, feeling a deep sympathy for him as he viciously threw piece after piece of wood onto the blazing fire. Once again he had shut himself off from her. She rose quietly and left to get a drink from the waterfall, leaving him alone with his demons.
Wolf stood staring as the flames of the large fire danced, the smoke swirling, heaven bound. Sweat poured from his forehead into his eyes, eyes that watered from the sting of the blaze, or so he told himself. He was angry with himself. He hadn't told anyone about that day since it had happened; he wondered why he had mentioned it now. Feeling unsettled, he admitted this particular job touched a sensitive nerve.
The child, Abby, had stirred deep-seated emotions that floundered, unbidden, to the surface, looking for an emotional release. Wolf's father had tracked down his sister's killer. His revenge had consumed him. Wolf's father had killed people like him as well. Wolf felt he had let his father down. He had been told to protect his sister; he had failed. Wolf had vowed he would never again fail.
Wolf's mother had died not long after. He thought it was because of a broken heart; his little sister had meant everything to his mother, her beautiful, baby girl, the family angel. She had been so sweet and caring, even at such a young age. She was their light, their little love, quick to offer a hug, a smile. To have died the way she had made no sense. It wasn't right. Wolf could feel his anger rage again.
Wolf had never allowed himself the luxury of becoming close to anyone after that. He had been devastated, the pain was too great. When he thought of her, he felt he was dying. He could still picture her tiny, heart-shaped face, her fear, in his mind. Her doe-brown eyes had settled onto his in terror. It was his last memory of her, and it was heart-wrenching. He turned his emotions off, unable to bear the pain of his guilt. The child, Abby, had reminded him of his defenseless sister. Another cherub-faced girl to haunt him.
Casey sat humming softly. She was beside their small fire, back at the waterfall. She had persuaded Wolf by cajoling and reasoning with him to take a walk while she once more washed. Feeling wary, she only removed one article of clothing at a time. When finished, she replaced it quickly, glancing about before she had removed another.
Casey was threading her fingers through her hair to aid in its drying. At a small noise off to her left she stood, wondering if Wolf was returning. She stopped instantly and remained frozen as her eyes settled onto a wild boar that had come looking for a drink. Carefully she backed away, noting the large, angry looking tusks. She did not want to be gored to death. Seeing the subtle movement, the animal suddenly charged. Casey gave a piercing shriek; she turned and fled. The wild boar was not far behind.
Crashing through the foliage, Casey ran screaming from this new adversary. She could hear it pounding closely behind her, making more noise than she was. She had seen once the damage these creatures could inflict. She spotted a low branch. She was hoping to climb the tree, but her foot caught under a protruding root, and she fell heavily to the ground, crying out. She covered her head, waiting for the inevitable attack.
Casey heard the boar squeal suddenly in pain, and when she turned, she saw a disheveled Wolf standing over the now dead animal, a sharp stick protruding from its side. She sat up slowly, her chest heaving, her eyes wide and unbelieving. She had once more escaped death.
“Sure, now you're helpless. Why didn't you conk it over the head with something?” Wolf drawled.
Casey reddened, and then brightened. “What do think about a pig roast?”
Wolf nodded. It was a fine idea. Gripping the animal, he hauled it up onto his shoulders.
“Are you coming? Because you're co
oking,” Wolf said down to Casey, as she remained still seated on the ground. She scrambled to her feet.
“Why do I always have to cook?” she asked up to Wolf as she walked beside him.
“I killed it.”
“How did you get here so fast?”
“I was watching you. When you ran, I ran.”
“Oh,” Casey said, pondering. She stopped suddenly. “You watched me wash!”
“I said I would leave, I didn't say how far I would go,” Wolf said, chuckling.
“You have a serious problem,” Casey said, now annoyed.
“It's a good thing I still think you're the most entertaining thing on the island to watch. Otherwise you might be dead,” Wolf replied.
True, Casey thought.
“You're welcome,” Wolf said to her after they reached their camp and he dropped the pig to the ground.
Casey looked up at him, embarrassed. “Thank you for saving my life,” she mumbled back.
Wolf stared down at her, smiling smugly.
Wolf watched as Casey chewed on a small piece of roasted wild pig. The bliss on her face told him she thought it was heavenly. As usual, he was watching her carefully. Casey ignored him.
“How did you get here?” he asked her suddenly.
“Our boat sank,” Casey replied sarcastically. “And might I add I never would have been on that yacht if you hadn't frightened me.”
“I meant, how did you make it to this island? I'm a very powerful swimmer and even I was struggling the last little way,” Wolf elaborated.
“I had help from a friend,” Casey said, and smiled secretly.
“You washed up with someone else?” Wolf asked, confused.
“Not exactly,” she said evasively, with a faraway dreamy look.
“Would you like me to beat it out of you?” Wolf said, his eyes narrowing.
“You won't believe me.”
Wolf looked at her thoughtfully. She was no longer eating and she did not appear smug. “Try me,” he encouraged. He was dying of curiosity.
“A dolphin brought me to shore,” Casey said. She was looking directly into his eyes, daring him to call her a liar.
Wolf sat back, watching her. He could tell from her body language and facial expression she was telling the truth. “That would have been cool,” he commented.
“It was awesome,” Casey said, now animated.
“I never swam with a dolphin,” Wolf told her.
“I have, but never to save my life. Abby loved the dolphins, she couldn't wait to come back this year...” Casey stopped abruptly. Wolf could see the sadness now return to her face.
“You better eat what you can. In this heat, the meat will spoil by morning,” he said gently.
“We should be able to have some for a day or two, if we cook it and store it in that small crevice behind the falls. It's cooler in there, but you're right; it won't last long. I can wrap it in some large leaves and hopefully it will stay dry,” she said, and then sat quietly thinking.
“What is it?” Wolf asked, taking note of her pensive, confused expression.
“It just all seems so overwhelming. Last year I had a new husband, a new daughter, and I had never been happier. Today I'm sitting here eating a wild pig that almost gored me, with a man who was hired to kill me, by a man who professed to love me. Abby is gone. I wonder if David would have left me the minute I paid for Abby's college education,” Casey mused sadly. She tossed the bones of her meal into the fire and wiped her hands on her shorts.
“Marriage isn't all that it's cracked up to be,” Wolf informed her.
“Weren't your parents happy?” Casey asked. “You seem too young to be so cynical.”
“They were, for awhile,” he replied. Wolf was becoming uncomfortable. He had never been around any one woman long enough to talk about personal things. When women got personal, he left. Out here, where would he go? It was Wolf who was now feeling trapped. An odd, foreign feeling he didn't like.
“Until your sister died?” Casey persisted.
“You ask a lot of questions, little girl,” Wolf grouched.
“My name is Casey. I am not a little girl. Why don't you ever call me by my given name?”
“Too personal, you don't want to get too personal with me,” Wolf replied. He fixed his features to be impassive, to let her know she was walking on thin ice.
She sighed. “So do you think it might snow tomorrow?” she asked cheekily instead. “It's definitely getting chilly around here.”
“We could always heat things up,” Wolf said with a sudden leer. He felt a divine intervention was called for on his part. If he kept her busy, she would no longer be questioning him and making him uncomfortable. Perhaps now it was his turn.
“I thought you wanted to cool things down,” Casey countered.
“Maybe I changed my mind,” Wolf said.
“Should I start running again?” Casey asked nonchalantly, though there was a definite tremor to her words.
“I would just catch you,” Wolf replied, his hungry look boring into her eyes.
“You promised not to rape me unless I told. Who would I tell out here?”
“Who said anything about rape?” Wolf replied, and offered her the wolfish grin that unnerved her.
Casey scowled at him; he knew she was wondering what he had in mind. Wolf could see her struggling to resist the impulse to run. The area around them was darkening quickly. She shuddered as Wolf rose and approached her. He moved easily, casually, trying not to intimidate her or frighten her. But he could see she was frightened. When Wolf sat beside her, she whimpered softly and shifted away. Easily, he pulled her closer.
“You promised,” Casey whimpered. Her large, brown eyes looked up at him with alarm. He offered her an easy smile of reassurance.
“I won't hurt you...Casey.”
He said her name in a soft, caressing voice; he purposely allowed his accent to become more pronounced as his tone became sensuous. He could almost feel her skin tingle. Wolf dropped a careful arm around her shoulders. His finger trailed an easy path down her cheek. His forehead rested against hers while his eyes delved within her panicky glance. Her breath quickened, and for a brief moment, he could see her overwhelming need to escape.
“What do you want?” she asked with trepidation, her fearful, imploring look settling onto his smoldering eyes.
“You!”
[Back to Table of Contents]
* * *
Chapter Seven
* * * *
Casey tried once more to move away from him, but Wolf held her easily. His hands were not rough, but steady and strong as he gripped her to him, holding her closely. She struggled, trying to pull free, but he was too powerful.
“Oh no, please no,” Casey begged, pushing at him. Her eyes began to tear; she began to panic, sensing his intent.
“Shh, it's all right. We could be here for a long time, Casey. We need each other,” Wolf soothed compassionately.
Very gently, he smoothed his hands up and down her tense back while he held her closely. He stroked her hair from her forehead and stopped two tears that fell from pale cheeks. Cupping her face within his palms, he looked deeply into her skittish eyes.
“I won't hurt you. It's just so lonely out here, the emptiness is so overwhelming, especially when the sun goes down. It gets so dark, like we're trapped in some kind of hell, alone and cut off from everyone and everything. Doesn't the darkness make you crave the closeness of another? I feel the desperate need to connect with another living soul, a warm body. Don't you feel lonely, Casey?” Wolf coaxed, while his fingers traced over her face, trying to calm her.
“I'm so frightened of you, you're so big,” Casey cried, softly batting at his hands, still squirming to retreat from his large frame.
“Don't feel frightened, sweetheart. I promise not to hurt you. I will be very gentle with you. Trust me. You can trust me,” Wolf whispered into her ear.
Wolf tilted her head and claimed her lips in
a soft, tender kiss. Casey pushed at his chest, but knew it was hopeless; she would never be able to physically overpower someone so much stronger. Wolf continued to talk calmly to her, almost begging for her fear of him to lessen. His mouth trailed its way gently down her throat and over her shoulders that he had exposed, wanting to taste her. He nuzzled at her neck, breathing her in, his tongue dancing in tiny circles, laving her warm flesh.
“Wolf,” she whispered. Casey's body began shaking.
“I'm here, Casey. I'm the only one here for you. I won't hurt you. I want you to want me,” Wolf said.
She no longer pushed at him, yet she still refused to respond. Her tears flowed freely; she was not fighting him, because she was afraid he would cause her serious harm if she invoked his wrath.
“Please,” she whispered on a choked breath.
Casey lay docilely within his arms, though her small body still trembled while she whimpered pleadingly up at him. Her hands, fisted, pulled to her chest in self-preservation. She was remembering her friend's vivid description of what that horrible man had done to her when she had been raped, how much pain he had caused. How, terrified, she had screamed repeatedly. He had viciously slapped her face until she had quieted, only permitting her to sob softly and beg quietly. He had grabbed at her painfully, cruelly, while spewing vile, filthy words and she had been torn when he entered her brutally. He had threatened her with death if she ever told.
Wolf had threatened her if she were to tell, he had implied he was going to rape her mercilessly if she ever mentioned his name. Yet, he was taking her now when he had promised not to hurt her.
Casey waited for the pain to start. She waited for him to become ruthless, heartless. She waited for the harsh, evil words. But Wolf spoke soothing words, not threatening ones. His powerful hands were not callous or pitiless; they caressed her gently, with the utmost tenderness, and Casey became confused.
Wolf had removed both of their shirts, gently pulling her tiny t-shirt over her head, then tossing it to the side to fall over his own, his broad, warm chest pressed securely to her, warming her from the chill of the evening. She felt a careful hand rub delicately around her breast while another arm held her tightly to him, yet not with brute force.
My Assassin Lover Page 7