From Darkness (Hearts & Arrows Book 3)

by Staci Hart

  Jon nodded, looking beat. “All right.” He turned to Josie as the mechanic walked away, his eyes distant and hard. “I’ll grab the bags. You hungry? We can hit the diner.”

  “Sure,” was all she could say.

  He didn’t respond, only turned for the car.

  Josie stood uselessly in the parking lot while Jon parked the Jeep. He came out of the stall with their bags on his shoulder and his eyes on the ground, and he didn’t stop when he reached her, just kept walking, the distance between them unbreachable.

  She turned and followed him with a lump in her throat. “Here, let me take my bag.”

  “Nah, I got it.” He didn’t look at her, his voice flat and succinct.

  She followed him across the street and into the diner, her eyes on her boots, following him to a booth. Jon kept his eyes trained on the street beyond the window. Neither of them spoke.

  They sat in silence for a few agonizing minutes before the waitress stopped at their table and mercifully ended the quiet.

  “Can I get you folks something to drink?”

  Jon glanced at Josie, and she momentarily lost her wits. “Um, coffee, please.”

  “Sure thing, honey. And for you, sir?”

  “The same, thanks.” He shifted to pull a flyer of Rhodes out of his pocket, unfolded it, and held it up in display. “Could you tell me if you happened to see this man? This looks to be the only spot to eat here in town.”

  The waitress nodded. “Yeah, he was in here just last night. I’m pretty sure he stayed at the Beckham House, the little bed-and-breakfast down at the end of the street, since it’s the only place to get a room.”

  Josie’s pulse hit double-time, her breath coming short. She couldn’t speak, not with her mind screaming.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Jon said as he took the offered flyer back before stuffing it in his pocket.

  “Are you guys cops or something?”

  “No, but we’re working with them, and we need to find this man. Anything you can tell us would be helpful.”

  “Not much to tell,” she said with a shrug. “He sat right over there and was nice enough. Tipped okay.”

  “Did you happen to see what he was driving?” Josie asked.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t. Let me go grab that coffee for you two, and just holler if you have any other questions.” She touched the edge of the table and turned for the kitchen.

  Josie met Jon’s eyes. “We’ve got him.”

  He seemed worried and relieved and tense, so tense. “We’re practically on top of him. And now we know we’re on the right track. He’s on our road.”

  “I talked to almost every motel on this path.”

  “Then all we’ve gotta do is wait. We can’t move until we hear something, and we don’t want to pass him. Not that we can go anywhere with my tire busted.” Jon sighed and pulled the paper ring off his silverware, avoiding her eyes.

  She bit her lip. “You look exhausted. We might as well get some rest while we’re waiting here.”

  “I guess so,” he said, so worn, so tired.

  She paused, watching him, not even sure how to start, how to explain, but she wanted to. She needed to. “Jon, I—”

  “Not yet. Not here.” He stared at her from across the table with his bright eyes full of so many emotions that she couldn’t pin one down.

  “All right.”

  They ate their breakfast in silence. One of them would look out the window or watch the bustle of the diner, and then they’d switch, both so preoccupied with their own thoughts and the tension that it was one of the longest and most awkward meals either had been through.

  Jon laid his card down at the end of the table, and the waitress closed their ticket out. They headed out and down the street, and before long, they were standing at the desk in the lobby of the bed-and-breakfast.

  It, of course, had only one available room with a single queen-size bed.

  They climbed the stairs of the cabin to a room that overlooked the main street. The cabin walls were a deep honey pine, as were the wooden beams that spanned the vaulted ceiling. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and paintings of the mountains hung next to old mining photos on the walls. The four-poster bed looked luxurious and comfortable, covered in a white duvet and quilt.

  Josie set her bag under the window and brushed back the lace curtain, feeling like a fraud, wishing she were there as a lover or a honeymooner, not a heartbreaker.

  She turned to find Jon sitting on the edge of the bed unlacing his boots, his shoulders slumped from exhaustion and emotion.

  “You should sleep,” she said softly.

  “I don’t want to sleep. Not yet. Come here.”

  Her pulse raced as she walked over to him, and when he looked up at her, the pain in her heart was mirrored on his face. He reached for her hand and held it in his, looking down at her fingers as he shifted them ever so slightly in his own.

  “Josie,” he said, his voice rough, “I told you I never really believed you didn’t want me. But now…since yesterday, that’s been shaken. You said you didn’t know if you wanted anything from me, and I want to know what you meant. I need to understand. Do you feel anything for me? Do you want me as badly as I want you?”

  His thumb grazed her knuckles. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  She took an unsteady breath, her eyes searching his face, willing him to look at her. “I don’t know how to want anything anymore, Jon.”

  Her voice broke as she sank to her knees at his feet, looking up at him through her tears.

  “Every breath, every step, every minute of every day has been consumed by Rhodes, and I don’t know how to live anymore. How can I love you when I’m broken? How can I give you what you need when I can’t take care of myself? And all of this, you and me…Jon, everything that I thought about why you’d left was wrong, and I’ve only just realized it after three long years of missing you and hating you and wanting you. I thought that you had betrayed me.”

  “But you know now that’s not true.” His eyes shone as he looked down at her, his brows tight, creased with hurt.

  “I do, but…” She didn’t know how to explain, pressing her free hand to her aching heart. “All these years, you were waiting for me, but I wasn’t waiting for you. In my mind, you were gone and it was over, but in my heart, you were still there. You were always there, and I spent every day, every hour convincing myself that I hated you. When you came back, it pushed me into a free fall I still haven’t recovered from. I didn’t know what to do, and I still don’t.” A sob caught in her burning throat as she clutched at her shirt.

  “Tell me the truth. Tell me if you want to be with me. Just say the word,” he begged.

  She pulled in a shuddering breath, closing her eyes. “I can’t do that, Jon. I can’t promise that, don’t you see?” When she met his eyes again, they were heavy with sorrow. “I don’t want to hurt you again, but I will. I know it.”

  “You fighting us hurts worse than you not being willing to try.”

  “But what does that mean, try? All I can give you is this moment and the next one. Today, then tomorrow, and then…I don’t know. I can’t promise you, Jon. I can’t give you something I don’t have.”

  Jon looked down at her and cupped her cheek, brushing away her tears with his thumb. “Then, I won’t ask anything of you but to love me.”

  “But I already do.”

  With those words, he dropped to his knees at her side, slipped his hands into her hair, and pulled her to him with a breath, a breath that drew her into him, where she wanted to be, where she wished to be, the place where she’d thought she’d never be again.

  And when their lips met, he brought her back from darkness.

  He was the sun on her skin, warm and alive; the grass under her feet, holding her to the ground; the breath in her lungs, saving her from drowning.

  He was everywhere, his hands holding her face, his body against hers. She arched into him, needing his nearness, needing his lip
s and mouth and tongue as it brushed against hers.

  There were no more questions. There was no wondering. There was only the two of them, their broken hearts mending with every beat, every breath.

  Their hands roamed, thirsty and searching, under their jackets, skin too far away, fingertips on fire. His chest was hard and hot under her palms, his heart thundering against her fingertips as he pushed her jacket down her arms and pulled his own off, his lips never letting hers go.

  He rose to his knees, taking her with him, kissing her deeper. He was so familiar to her, even after all this time. Their nights together skipped through her thoughts, touches, kisses, sighs from so long ago right there, right in front of her. And her body hadn’t forgotten him any less than her heart had.

  She’d been a fool to deny him.

  But she’d never deny him another thing. Not as long as he loved her.

  Jon stood, and so did she, backing into the bed with her arms around his neck. And he laid her down, pressed her into the bed with his long body, the weight of him heavy and solid and perfect.

  He broke away and rolled over on his side, his eyes on his fingertips as he traced the line of her jaw, thumbed her bottom lip, trailed down her neck and along her collarbone. And when he reached the place where her heart hammered her ribs, he flattened his palm, felt the beat, met her eyes, kissed her with a deep softness that told her more than words ever could.

  Josie broke away after a moment and sat, watching him watching her as she crossed her arms and reached for the hem of her shirt to pull it over her head, her hair falling through the neck like liquid copper over lily-white skin. She turned and leaned over him, slipping her fingers into his hair, lazily draping over him as her hands roamed his face, his jaw, his neck, his chest. When she slipped her fingers under his shirt and across the soft skin over his hard muscles, he hummed into her mouth, his own fingers skating under the band of her jeans.

  He rolled her over and slipped his thigh between her legs, pinning her; her hips rolled against him in answer.

  It had been so long since she was touched, so long since she felt this, the ache so deep for him, so hot, her body moved on its own. She needed him. She needed him for so much. She’d needed him for so long.

  “Please,” she whispered against his lips, his fingers at the band of her jeans.

  He popped the button and lowered her zipper, and her entire body flexed at the sound.

  “Oh God,” she breathed.

  He moved down the bed, grabbing the backs of her boots to pull them off, kicking off his own as he pulled off his shirt. When it was gone, he reached for her jeans. She was already pushing them over her ass and down her thighs, and then they were gone.

  His eyes locked between her legs as he climbed onto the bed and threaded his arms under her thighs until his hands were at her waist. And then he pulled, running his nose up the inside of her thigh, his breath hot against her core, his lids fluttering closed as his lips closed over her.

  A long, slow shudder worked down her body on the heels of a sigh, her eyes closing and head tipping, the feeling of his tongue sweeping and hands on her hips and his rumbling voice as he moaned into the very center of her. With every brush of his tongue, her hips rolled harder. When his finger slipped into her, her legs clenched his shoulders, her lungs shooting open with a gasp, but he didn’t stop, not until her back arched, not until she breathed his name, not until her fingers were twisted in his hair and she was pulsing around his fingers.

  Her body slowed, and so did his, first his lips and then his body as he climbed up her, trailing kisses in the crease of her hip, up her stomach, to her breasts, his thumb grazing her tight nipple through the thin fabric of her bra. She reached under herself to unclasp it, and he rid her of it and brought his lips down to the swell, closing his hot mouth over the peak. With his head cradled in her arms, she arched into him, their legs tangling together, his face buried in her breasts.

  He had on too many clothes, she realized very suddenly, and her hands scrabbled down his body for his belt, wanting more skin, wanting his heat, wanting him.

  He let her go and leaned back, and she was almost sorry. Until he stood at the end of the bed, his eyes locked on hers as he gripped his belt and unfastened it, unzipped his pants and dropped them. He moved to climb back up to her, pausing to rummage in his bag next to the bed for a condom. And with one knee on the edge of the bed and his eyes on his hands, he rolled it on, gripping his length.

  And then he was in her arms.

  Their lips met as he nestled between her legs, and she spread her thighs open to let him in, his crown pressing against her, her hips angling for him. And he flexed his hips and filled her up, buried himself in her and held still for a moment, for a breath that broke the kiss, his forehead pressing to hers and their noses brushing.

  He pumped his hips, and she was empty; he shifted, and she was full again. Then again, rocking against her, and again, his lips finding hers. Again, her fingers in his hair. Again, her heartbeat racing. And then he whispered her name, the sweetest sound, and her body answered with a shudder that drew him deeper and deeper, deeper as her heart beat, deeper as he came.

  Their body slowed, and he kissed her, kissed her with a thousand promises, kissed her with the years behind them and the future riding their breath. And she knew she’d always been his. She would always be his.

  The gods broke out in chatter, but someone hissed a, “Shh!” and everyone listened for the alarm to sound.

  Hermes stood with a smile and addressed the room. “Ah, ah, ah. There are too many variables yet to claim the win. They need a resolution, a decision, to be on the same page. Anything could happen. Until they’re safe, the game is still on.”

  Artemis looked relieved, the tightness in her face slipping away with a breath.

  Dita sighed. She’d known it wasn’t over, but the good news was that the pieces had all been lined up for the win. And for the moment, that was about all she could ask for. There was still the matter of Rhodes, and he was a loose cannon. They would find him soon, and none of them knew what he would do.

  She wouldn’t rest easy until they were safe.

  Perry elbowed her. “Dude. Hot.”

  “They’ve been waiting a long time for that,” Dita said with a nod.

  “How come you don’t look completely blissed-out jazzed right now?”

  “Because they’re still chasing a serial killer.”

  Perry watched her for a breath. “They’re going to be okay, Dita.”

  But Dita only watched the sleeping players on the screen. “I hope so.”

  The forest was dense, the tall trees thick and lush, the golden sun cutting rays through the trees, dappling the mossy ground in patches. Josie stopped in a column of light, the long white gown brushing her skin, featherlight, the spongy ground cool under her bare feet.

  Something moved in the trees before her, and from the darkness of shadows walked a doe, her eyes meeting Josie’s with understanding and sentience, with knowledge of ages heavy in their depths.

  Josie took a step toward the creature, connecting with her, needing to touch her, to feel her soft fur and know she was real. And the doe held her head high and steady, watching Josie approach with an outstretched hand and a pumping heart.

  Their heartbeats matched, their breaths in and out in rhythm.

  And the doe bowed her head and said, It is time.

  Josie woke with a start to her phone blaring. It was still dark out, and she blinked, confused for a moment, not comprehending where she was.

  And then Jon stirred against her, and she remembered everything with a rush that took her breath with it.

  The ringing from the nightstand wouldn’t quit. She reached over him to grab her phone.

  “This is Josie,” she said before clearing her throat.

  Jon stretched for his own phone to check the time. It was ten.

  Jesus.

  He couldn’t believe they’d slept so long and sat up in be
d, hoping it was good news on the other end of the line. He tucked his hand behind his head and listened to her half of the conversation.

  “Yeah. Okay. Hang on, let me write down the address.” Josie waved at Jon, who handed his phone over. She pulled up the notes. “Go ahead.” Her fingers flew as she banged out an address. “Thank you. Give me a call if he leaves before we get there, and we’ll give you a bonus.”

  She hung up and laid a hand on his chest, her eyes relieved and ready and afraid. “This is it.”

  He tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling the silky strands and the warmth of her skin as he cupped her cheek.

  She leaned into his hand with a sigh, but worry passed across her face as she looked down at him.

  “Jon,” she said gently, “I want to figure all of this out—you and me—but we have to get through Rhodes first. I have to get through Rhodes first.”

  “I know,” he assured her, not needing answers. He just needed her. “It’s okay, Jo. First things first. We’ll get to the rest when we can.”

  Her eyes shone in the low light of the room, grateful and soft. She leaned in and kissed him, smiling when she broke away just before her eyes flew open. “Oh my God, Jon. The Jeep.”

  He sat up fast. “Oh, fuck. Fucking shit fuck.”

  Josie was already twisting her hair back and climbing out of bed. “Maybe we can find out where the mechanic lives. This town is tiny. Come on, let’s get moving.”

  He got out of bed and pulled on his shirt and jeans. When he turned, Josie was stepping into her jeans, her silhouette black against the blue moonlight through the curtain, and he shook his head with a sigh at the sight.

  So much he’d missed, so much he’d waited for, and now it had finally arrived. They just had to catch Rhodes, and then they could move on. Together.

  Josie clicked on the lamp, and they threw what little they’d unpacked back into their bags before rushing downstairs in a panic.

  The front desk had Jon’s keys and a receipt for the tire patch, and Jon was thankful for small-town hospitality. Once they thanked the owner and left extra cash for the mechanic, they trotted to the shop where the Jeep was parked, hopped inside, and were on their way.