Thorne Bay

by Jeanine Croft

  Tristan, meanwhile, had paused to fix me with a sexy glare. “You’re brave.”

  Grinning, I searched for my bra. I was sore now and there was no way I could survive another round with him. My nether parts trembled at the thought. I sat down on the edge of the bed, distracted from my underwear hunting, to admire his profile as he brushed his teeth. I was still naked, though, and so leaned back on my elbows to cross and uncross my legs, a la Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct, to which he responded by shooting me another provocative glare. “I’ll behave,” I said, giggling. “But your self-control really isn’t my problem. I want you to release the Kraken!”

  He choked on his toothpaste and quickly spat it out so that he could turn another glare on me. “I swear I’m gonna have to make sure I have no dangerous objects in my mouth whenever you’re in the room.”

  “That sounds like a challenge, Mr. Thorn.” Sniggering to myself, I pulled my jeans on sans my underwear. I had never gone commando before and I couldn’t say that I relished the idea. My jeans were of the tight and skinny variety, so I was instantly self-conscious of flashing a bit of the ole camel’s toe. Or was it Moose-knuckle now that I was in Moose country? No, only men can do the Moose-knuckle thing. I’d probably have to google the difference later, I thought, checking my crotch with a satisfied nod. No camel here.

  Once Tristan had vacated the room, I finished dressing and then answered nature’s call. After that, I finger-brushed my teeth and then headed downstairs to satisfy an appetite of a more prosaic nature.

  * * *

  Later, on the drive back to the cabin, Tristan became strangely taciturn, dampening the post-coital bliss I’d been enjoying. But even over breakfast he’d seemed distracted. I knew he had some flying to do today after he dropped me off. Was it something work-related that worried him? Or was it me?

  “Are you okay?” I asked. “Have I done something wrong?”

  Instead of answering my questions, he said, “We need to talk.” The four dreaded words that spelled imminent doom to any fledgling relationship.

  My face blanched. Had he used me? Had I completely misread his character? My expression had been broadcasting all the doubt that was suddenly churning inside me, evidently, because Tristan, with a grim frown, suddenly pulled the truck off to the side of the road and turned to me.

  “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, Evan, then you don’t know me at all.”

  “Yeah, I’m starting to realize that,” I said, voice stiff and cold. God, my mood had plummeted quickly. “Was this a one night stand?”

  He gave a frustrated sigh and clenched his eyes momentarily. “I’ve tried to be honest with you without scaring you away. I wanted to move slowly. You were completely unexpected. I swear to you, I did try to stay away, but obviously I have very little self-control where you’re concerned.” He dropped his head back and closed his eyes, pained. It had all rushed out of him in an incoherent mess that I was struggling to follow. “I’ve abused your trust, Evan.”

  What did that even mean? “What? No, I wanted—”

  “I wanted it too, but I should’ve been honest with you first. I’m a coward. I wanted to pretend to be normal for a while.”

  “Honest about what?” What the hell was he so afraid of? “Tell me.”

  “I will, but not here like this.” His eyes softened. “I want to tell you everything…tonight.”

  My shoulders relaxed somewhat, he didn’t look like a man about to break a woman’s heart. “Should I be scared?”

  “It’s a pretty huge deal, my secret. One that might make you run for the hills and never look back again. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” The thought of me running for the hills seemed like anathema to him, so I was further mollified. Definitely not the look of a man about to break a heart.

  “Do you have herpes?” I was digging in the weeds here, my filter evidently failing again. Though, really, it would serve me right for being so cavalier in the shower earlier. “AIDS?”

  “Neither! Jeez, Ev.” The abject horror plastered on his face was telling enough.

  “Then you’re in the Alaskan mafia.” I’d guessed as much.

  “I’m not in the goddamn mafia.” He gave a frustrated growl and shifted the King Ranch into gear.

  “So it’s not a family secret then?”

  This question seemed to give him pause. “It is.”

  “Does Dean know the secret?”

  “It’s a condition that affects him too, so yes.”

  “So it is a disease!”

  “In a way, it is something incurable, but I don’t view it as a disease, no.”

  Who else knew about this condition of his. “Tell me this: does Nicole know your big, dark secret?”

  He grimaced. “Yes.” The silence after that little confession was horribly stilted.

  I looked away, the landscape blurring past my window as the truck ate up the bitumen. “Tristan, if you’re still together with her then—”

  “We’re not together!” Then less vehemently, “We never were.”

  Maybe that was why she couldn’t stand me? Because he’d chosen me over her. “Now I’m dying to know what this damn secret is.”

  “Tonight. I promise I’ll show you then.”

  Show? “Show me what? I’ve seen all of you—” my eyes settled pointedly at his crotch “—so there’s nothing else to show.”

  “There’s a whole helluva lot more to show.” But instead of smiling, he appeared grim.

  So much for misplaced humor. “Is it Mr. Hyde?” I asked as we pulled up alongside the Yukon. I’d only met Jekyll, but now and then I’d glimpsed a Hyde.

  Without answering he climbed out of the truck, presumably to open my door like he always did, but I forestalled him by jumping down myself before he’d even passed the brush guard.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” I muttered. When he made no move to leave me, I looked up to see him scanning the edge of the surrounding woods. “You’ll be late for work, you should probably go.”

  “My flights can wait,” he said, pulling his gaze away from the trees, “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

  “Okay, grandma, I’ll go lock myself in the cabin if it’ll make you feel better.”

  He grunted and gently twisted my ponytail around his finger before laying it over my shoulder. “Don’t open the door to anyone.” The warning was soft yet firm, like the kiss that punctuated it. Then his eyes shifted back to the woods again, hesitating. His nostrils flared as the wind picked up.

  “Why are you so jumpy?”

  “Do you smell…?” He took another deep noseful of air.

  “Smell what?” Was there another damn bear in the woods?!

  His brows drew together. “Gasoline.”

  I tried to sample the air like he was doing, but my nose, I was quickly reminded, had stopped working properly. Damn allergies!

  “Maybe Dinwiddie’s fixin’ to burn her refuse.” He stroked his jaw, still peering into the shadows.

  “I don’t smell anything.” I studied him dubiously. “Dinwiddie lives like ten miles away. How would you know what she’s—?”

  “Tonight, Evan,” he promised. “I’ll explain everything tonight.”

  “Tonight,” I echoed, backing up towards the house. “Fine.”

  Once the black truck disappeared from the driveway, I headed up to the cabin. I was dog tired and determined to take a nap. I’d slept well, even after the nightmare, but it had been all too short. That nap, however, was not destined for me. I’d just entered the bedroom when a knock sounded at the door.

  With a foul curse, I turned back around to head to the foyer, in no mood to deal with Dinwiddie. Enough with the bulldog mouth, Evan, she’s probably just checking in on you. The voice of reason had a good point, so I pasted a resigned smile on and opened the door.

  “Hello, Evan.” It was Nicole. “Can I come in?”

  25

  The Voice Of Rage And Ruin

  There was somethi
ng inhuman and chilling about Nicole’s smile as she stood on the porch waiting for me to invite her in. Then her mouth suddenly fell as she wrinkled her nose. The cold spectral blue of her eyes raised my hackles.

  I would have thought it was my scent that offended her, but I’d just showered earlier, so it certainly wasn’t my body odor. “Tristan isn’t here, Nicole.” She couldn’t possibly have come here to see me since I knew she hated my living guts.

  “Perfect,” she said through gritted teeth, forcing her smile back into place. “Well, can I come in?”

  “Will you be nice?” I wanted to ask. I didn’t though. Instead, I moved back to let her in, watching her from under pinched brows. Watching her as I would a circling shark. I hated the inkling of foreboding that struck my gut with primeval force as she prowled in past me. I’d made a mistake to let her in, I knew that somehow, but this was Tristan’s friend (or whatever) and I couldn’t very well kick her out now.

  “Tea?” I asked.

  She nodded, studying me as though she couldn’t quite make sense of me.

  Once in the kitchen, I began busying my trembling hands with the cups and the tea bags. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Nicole was hovering near the entrance—blocking my escape route. God Almighty, Evan! You’re being ridiculous, she’s only a silly tart with a mean stare. A silly tart who was also tall and wiry enough to take me down, I suspected.

  “I hear hurricanes a-blowing…I hear the voice of rage and ruin.” Creedence Clearwater Revival crooned on as I glanced surreptitiously over my shoulder at Nicole, keeping her always within sight. I noticed her nostrils still flaring in that morbid way. It irritated and unnerved me. Where in the hell had I put my phone? Not that there was any signal to be had.

  “You slept with him,” she blurted.

  I was so shocked by her bluntness that I nearly dropped the kettle on my foot. “That’s…really none of your business, Nic—”

  “Did he tell you?” she asked, a hint of pain behind her glare.

  “Tell me what?”

  My confusion was answer enough and seemed to satisfy her. “Thought not.”

  She was obviously referring to the big secret he was yet to share. “If all you came here to do is gloat and stir shit then you can turn around and—” fuck off “—leave.”

  “Don’t you want to know his secret? I could tell you if you like.”

  “I think that’s Tristan’s privilege, not yours,” I said, steeling myself for a possible bitchslap—even smiling she looked unhinged enough for violence. “And I think it’s time you go.”

  She took a seat on the stool at the breakfast bar as if I hadn’t just rescinded my invitation. “We got off on the wrong foot.”

  “I suspect you only have two wrong feet, Nicole.”

  There was a momentary flicker of something vicious in her gaze, but she blinked it away and pasted a toothy smile back on her face. “I’ve been a bitch, I know”—she sighed and dropped her head into her hands—“but can you blame me?”

  Uh, yeah.

  “The man I’ve known all my life—the man I was supposed to marry—is sleeping with another woman.”

  “Excuse me?!” Blood welled in my mouth from where I bit my tongue. “You were engaged to Tristan?”

  “He didn’t tell you?” She bristled.

  With a headache beginning to stab at my skull, I pushed my hands to the countertop to steady myself while I assimilated her words. “You’re lying.” I set the kettle on the burner. She would get no tea, but I certainly needed something warm to fortify my nervous stomach.

  “You and I both know you don’t really believe that.”

  Didn’t I? She did seem extremely sure of herself, I thought desolately. “Is this his big secret?” I hated the fact that she knew him better than I apparently did. That she knew his big secretum secretorum and I didn’t.

  “Partly.” Clearly gratified by my misery, she went on, somehow sensing that I wouldn’t stop her telling me the rest. “He has a dual persona, you know.”

  “What I know is that you’re full of shit.” I hope.

  Animus glared coldly from her eyes. “It’s not just him—we’re all bicorporal.”

  Of two bodies? Was this chick on some freaky magic mushroom high. “Who’s we exactly?” I asked, glancing at the knife drawer.

  “All the families.”

  Families? “What, like the Cosa Nostra?” I scoffed. Tristan had already denied that.

  Her eyes slitted thoughtfully. “Yeah, like the mafia. Our families are also based on a ‘boss’ system, but instead of the Bratva you have the Southeast Regional Pack; instead of the Yakuza you have the Yukon Territory; and instead of the Cosa Nostra you have the Athabaskan Region, where I’m from. The last two are the largest and strongest syndicates in North America.”

  So they were mafiosi! “Which one…which does Tristan belong to?” I asked in a whisper, my head reeling.

  “That’s complicated, I’m not completely sure anymore.” She lifted one shoulder irritably. “He’s a bit of wild card lately which is why his father wanted us united. Anyway, his brother is the president of the SRP. The Southeast Regional Pack,” she clarified, noticing my confusion at hearing the acronym. “Thorne Bay—” spreading her arms meaningfully “—is all part of Dean’s territory.”

  “And you’re from…?”

  “The Athabaskan Region, like I said. Aidan’s pack.” She said this with overt relish as though I was supposed to know who this Aidan guy was. “Aidan’s pack is the most powerful in Alaska, that’s why Dean and Max were looking forward to the match between Tristan and I—for the alliance it would secure with the Athabaskans. Max Thorn is head of the largest pack in Canada.” Her teeth gleamed threateningly as she smiled. “The Yukon Godfather, if you will. And when Tristan finally sorts his shit out and goes home, he’ll be the Yukon heir.” One eye gave a sudden minacious twitch as she considered me. “But your presence here has thrown a spanner in the works. And Max is furious.”

  The godfather was enraged at me? I felt my stomach curdle at the thought. Lies. It all sounded too far-fetched. I had to keep in mind that Nicole was here to scare me, not to enlighten. I’d never heard of any Alaskan mafia, and I certainly didn’t think they’d refer to themselves as “packs” if indeed they even did exist. More importantly, I hadn’t thrown any spanners anywhere! Tristan had made the first move, not the other way around. All I wanted now was for Nicole to get the hell out of the cabin, out of my head, and to take her crazy elsewhere. Far far away. “Why are you telling me all this anyway?”

  She said nothing, only shot me a predatory wink that implied she was having fun at my expanse.

  “I want you to go.” I was bracing myself for some violent outburst, but she surprised me by pushing herself carelessly from the stool.

  “I didn’t even get any tea,” she pouted. She was halfway out the kitchen when she turned around unexpectedly. “Mind if I use your washroom first? I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.” Her tone was almost affable all of a sudden.

  Her mood swings, I was coming to realize, were even freakier than Tristan’s. “Outside,” I said, for once relieved to have an outhouse. Better yet go pee in the woods!

  “I’ll let myself out then.” She backed out of the room with a strange look on her face. Once she was out of the room I expelled the cold air from my lungs, feeling inordinately relieved to have her out of the kitchen. The kettle began to whistle its shrill warning from the stove, distracting me a moment. Ah, there’s my phone! It was on the shelf above the stove. After I’d pocketed it and pulled the kettle from the blue flames, I hurried to the mudroom to lock the front door. It snicked soundly, bolstering me with relief. Back at the kitchen I facepalmed myself for being so single-minded that I’d left the gas on. I flicked the knob off and peered out the kitchen window at the outhouse. I waited long minutes for Nicole to emerge, but she never did. Maybe she’d left already? No, her black SUV was still in the driveway. Finally, I grew anxious wh
en she still hadn’t appeared after twenty minutes had come and gone. Either she’d fallen down the loo (wishful thinking) or she’d decided to jog home. Yeah right. Had I heard the front door open and close, signaling her departure from the cabin? I couldn’t remember. Maybe the screaming kettle had drowned the sound of the closing door? Then why was I feeling uneasy?

  “Nicole?” I called out, moving down the hall to check the two bedrooms. They were empty.

  The whole house, in fact, seemed heavy with silence despite the music drifting faintly from the kitchen. But I didn’t feel alone. Nicole was a grown-ass woman and as much as she disturbed me I didn’t for a minute think her the type to play hide and seek. Then again, she had just been spewing nonsense about heirs and mafiosi in the kitchen earlier, so clearly she was unpredictable.

  As I passed from my room back into the hallway I was stopped in my tracks by a sudden shuffling that emanated faintly from down in the basement. “Please be a rat,” I whispered, a fatal tremor seizing my hand as I reached out for the basement doorknob. The metal was like ice beneath my fingers.

  “I hope you are quite prepared to die…” God, had I put that song on repeat or something?

  I flicked the useless switch at the top of the stairs, cursing myself because I hadn’t yet had time to change any light bulbs. I tried to see into the darkness that lay waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Don’t go down there, came that familiar cautious voice which I’d ignored when I’d let Nicole into the cabin. Call Tristan. But, despite my determination to ignore her, Nicole’s lies had left chinks in the trust I’d had in Tristan. It was now tenuous at best.

  I pulled my phone out, briefly noting that there was—surprise surprise—zero signal, so I couldn’t call even if I wanted to. Then I tried to use the backlight of the screen to illuminate the black stairwell, but it only produced a pitiful glow.