Wolfe cupped Rhys’s balls as he sucked him, applying more suction every time while he fisted the base, stroking.
Rough.
Hard.
“Oh, fuck… Wolfe… It’s too much. Oh, God.”
Rhys’s body bowed as his release took him. Wolfe drank him down, cleaning him with his tongue before crawling up his body and kissing him for the first time that morning.
Yeah.
It was safe to say Wolfe could get used to waking up like this.
**
An hour later, Wolfe was pulling into the shop. Amy’s car was in the parking lot already, and he had to glance at the clock to make sure he wasn’t late.
He wasn’t.
Which meant she was early.
Before he could get his truck door opened, Amy had sprinted around to the driver’s side. And the instant Wolfe put his boots on the gravel, she was in his arms, her body crashing into his.
Fear hit him harder than she did.
“What’s wrong?” Panic clutched his chest, a painful constriction that made it difficult to breathe.
She didn’t respond, a sob the only sound she made.
“Amy.” Wolfe tried to pull back, tried to push her away, desperate to look at her face, but she was locked to him, her arms around his waist, her face buried in his chest. “Damn it, Amy. Talk to me.”
The sound of her crying nearly had his knees giving out, dread filling him, stealing at least ten years off his life.
“Amy!” Wolfe wasn’t known for panic attacks but the woman had him coming unraveled. He had no idea what was wrong, but it was something. Frantic to get answers, Wolfe tried to push her back again, wanting to look in her eyes. “Did something happen?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Are you hurt?”
Her face rubbed against him as she continued to shake her head.
Only then did some of the ball-shriveling fear deflate. With his ass leaning against his truck seat, Wolfe wrapped his arms around her, clutching her tightly. She was trembling, her shoulders shaking, her body heaving with every breath she took. There was no way she could miss how tense he was, yet she still didn’t let go. He rubbed her back, letting her cry.
As they stood there, Wolfe continued to slide his palm over her back as he reached for his phone. With one hand, he shot a text to Rhys. Need you over at the shop. Now. This is personal business. About Amy.
He tucked his phone in his pocket and tried to stand upright. “Let’s go inside, baby.”
Amy inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, her hands releasing his T-shirt. It took some effort, but she finally let go. When she stood straight, she didn’t make eye contact. Her head hung low when he wrapped his arm over her shoulder and steered her toward the building. It took a minute for him to unlock the door and disengage the alarm. A little longer since he kept one arm around her, keeping her pressed up against his body.
His phone buzzed, but he didn’t check it. If Rhys could get away, Wolfe knew he would. If he couldn’t, then Wolfe would fill him in later. Right now, he could only focus on one thing, and that was getting Amy to tell him what happened.
He maneuvered Amy over to a chair and eased her into it. He squatted on his haunches in front of her, trying to get down on her level, wanting her to look at him.
“What’s goin’ on, Amy?”
She buried her face in her hands, but she’d stopped crying.
Wolfe waited as patiently as he could for her to pull herself together.
A few seconds later, Amy was wiping the tears from her face with the heels of her hands, her breaths returning to normal.
With his hands on her thighs, Wolfe looked her over, trying to assure himself that she wasn’t hurt.
She finally lifted her head, her dark eyes meeting his. “Can you call Rhys?”
The request had his heart slamming into his sternum. “In an official capacity?”
Another head shake. “No. I just…” She wiped another tear from her cheek and exhaled heavily. “I don’t want to tell this story twice.”
Oh, fuck.
As much as Wolfe needed to hear this, he wasn’t sure he was ready.
More importantly, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to refrain from killing someone once he had.
Amy was tired, slightly hysterical, and a little on edge.
Okay, so, the little part was the understatement of the century.
More like she was vibrating with anxiety and she had to do something to relieve the pressure.
After Reagan had showed up at her house last night, Amy had hidden out in her bedroom, terrified, unable to close her eyes no matter how exhausted she was. The nightmares were getting worse and she was afraid to close her eyes. She had no one to turn to. No one.
Except Rhys and Wolfe.
Although she dreaded telling them what had happened, Amy knew she had to tell someone. It was getting worse. The terror-filled dreams, the looking over her shoulder, the walking around expecting him to show up at any moment.
The only thing stopping her was not wanting to see the pity in their eyes when they realized how incredibly weak she was.
She still heard Rhys’s words ringing in her ears.
She puts up with a lot of shit, but she would never tolerate him laying a hand on her.
He’d sounded so confident, complete faith in his sister that she wouldn’t do what Amy had done. Wouldn’t be a victim.
What would Rhys think of her once he knew the truth? That she had spent nearly five years living in fear, suffering daily, beaten into submission almost from the second she’d moved in with him. That she’d allowed it.
Not that she’d had much of a choice. Even on her worst days, Amy knew she hadn’t had a choice.
But even now, more than a year later, the tears wouldn’t stop and the fear wouldn’t subside and Amy was tired of both. She was tired period.
So, last night, when she’d been clutching the blankets to her chin, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for a sound, something to signal that he’d found her, that he had come back to finish the job, Amy had come to a decision.
It wasn’t if he would find her. It was when. And when that day came, when he did succeed in doing what he’d attempted already, Amy wanted someone to know. If for no other reason than hopefully they’d be able to put him behind bars when he did succeed in killing her.
It was the least he deserved.
Wolfe pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Rhys is on the way.”
Amy nodded, trying to pull herself together. She would get through the next hour if it killed her. Maybe then she’d be able to sleep. Something had to give, because she was feeling the repercussions of the constant terror. She’d thought that having Reagan in the house would make it easier, lessen the anxiety, but it hadn’t.
In fact, the only time Amy felt relatively safe was when she was with Wolfe or Rhys. They made her believe that they could keep the devil from finding her. And that was what he was. The devil. Pure evil.
The door was open, allowing the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires to filter in through the door. Amy didn’t jump, she didn’t cower, she merely looked up, staring at the empty space. Wolfe was a few feet away. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
It felt like an eternity as she stared blankly at the doorway before a figure finally appeared. She was surprised and slightly disappointed when Lynx walked in, Copenhagen at his side.
Both dog and man instantly took in the scene, their entire focus on her.
No doubt she looked like hell. She felt like hell.
“What’s wrong?” Lynx asked, sounding just as concerned as Wolfe had. He glanced from Wolfe to Amy, then back to Wolfe, waiting for a response.
“I’ll be right back.” Wolfe stood and headed for Lynx, nodding for him to go outside.
“Go give her some lovin’,” Lynx instructed the dog before stepping outside.
“It’s okay, boy,” Amy said softly as the dog si
zed her up. “I’m okay, I promise.”
Copenhagen sauntered over, putting his big head in her lap, his eyes imploring her, as though seeking confirmation that she would be all right.
“Or I will be. One day,” she added. “Maybe.”
Amy stroked his head, scratching behind his ears, gently sliding her thumb over his nose. They sat there like that for a few minutes before Wolfe returned. He wasn’t alone. Rhys and Lynx were behind him.
She could tell by the look on Lynx’s face that he wasn’t going to leave. Amy wasn’t sure she could tell him her story. It would be hard enough to share with Rhys and Wolfe.
Lynx clicked his tongue twice and Copenhagen was promptly at his side, sitting obediently. Amy held Lynx’s stare. “Amy, if you want me to go, I’ll go. But I want you to consider somethin’ first. If you’re with my cousin, that makes you family. And when it comes to family, I don’t sit idly by. I’ll get the details, one way or the other. And I’ll be there for you and for Wolfe. So, it’s up to you how this plays out.”
Swallowing hard, Amy tried to come up with a reason he should go. He was stone-cold serious, his eyes hard. She didn’t know him all that well, but she knew Lynx was a protector. He didn’t tolerate anyone messing with the people he cared about.
And to think that he might care about her like family…
The tears began to fall again, but she nodded, resigned to do this no matter the audience. “You can stay.” She looked at Wolfe, then at Rhys. “You might as well pull up a chair. This is a long story.”
Rhys knew he wouldn’t be able to sit down, so he didn’t even pretend. He was already tense and that was from Wolfe explaining how he’d arrived to find Amy sitting in her car, waiting for him.
It took everything in him not to rush over to her, pull her into his arms, and ensure her that he would never allow anything to happen to her. It was clear by her body language that she wouldn’t believe him.
He shifted his feet outward a bit, crossed his arms over his chest, and tried to keep the anger from reflecting on his face. Rhys was pissed for a number of reasons. The first one being that Amy had been sitting outside the building for God only knew how long waiting for Wolfe to show up rather than seeking one or both of them out. The second being the fact that Rhys had slept soundly in Wolfe’s bed last night while Amy had been alone.
Rhys wanted to kick his own ass for leaving her last night.
When he’d first read Wolfe’s text, he’d nearly driven his truck off the damn road. When he’d been summoned to the shop, his heart had tried to break free of its cage in his chest. Personal or not, Rhys hadn’t liked not knowing what the hell was going on, and the cryptic message had caused a million worst-case scenarios to flash in his brain. It didn’t help much knowing that Wolfe hadn’t known anything, either.
Wolfe grabbed a chair and dragged it over beside Amy while Lynx hopped up on the table directly across from her. Copenhagen resumed his position at Amy’s feet, his head resting on her shoe as he curled up close to her. The dog was obviously in tune with her pain, her fear. He had set himself up as her protector.
That made three of them. Four, if you counted Lynx, and based on the look on his face right now, Lynx Caine wasn’t going to let anything happen to the woman.
Amy looked between each of them before her gaze came to rest on Rhys’s face.
“You’re not the sheriff right now,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “You’re … my friend.”
Friend, his ass. He was a hell of a lot more than that, but Rhys clamped his lips together tightly.
“I’m telling you this because I need someone to know.” She sighed. “I need to get it off my chest, but I’m not expecting you to … save me. I just want you to listen. To know.”
“I’m still the sheriff,” Rhys told her. “Regardless.”
She nodded, as though she had expected him to say that. “I’m not gonna tell you his name.”
Wolfe growled, a warning sound that had Amy looking toward him.
“I can’t, Wolfe. It’s too dangerous. For me. And maybe everyone in this town.”
Rhys knew they could hold their own, but he wasn’t going to interrupt. There’d be time for that later.
“Tell the story, Amy,” Lynx prompted. “We’ll determine how to handle things after we know what happened.”
Her eyes darted over to Lynx’s face. She seemed to consider that for a moment.
Amy took a deep breath, steeled her shoulders, and clamped her hands together in her lap, her gaze straying toward the door. “My parents died when I was sixteen. Car accident. Four-car pileup on the highway.” She swallowed hard. “I went to school that morning saying good-bye to the two people who meant the most to me, and I came home that afternoon an orphan.”
Rhys noticed her tone was matter-of-fact, but her eyes were sad. As though she had to push forward to keep from thinking about that day.
“At that point, I went to live with my mom’s sister and her husband. They welcomed me with open arms. My aunt and I worked through our grief together. She took me to counseling. Herself, too. We talked a lot, shared memories of my mom and dad… Basically, she got me through it. Mostly.
“I finished the last month of my sophomore year at the high school near my parents’ house, then transferred to the one in my aunt’s district after that. I didn’t make many friends, choosing to focus on my school work. When I graduated, I decided to go to a local community college. My aunt and uncle were footing the bill. They even told me I could stay with them as long as I wanted. I didn’t want to leave at that point. No way did I want to live by myself.” Her gaze dropped to the floor.
“During my second semester at the college, I met a guy in a political science class. I was taking it as an elective because it sounded interesting. Anyway, he was a nice guy. We talked a lot, usually at the cafeteria, sometimes at the coffee shop at the school. He was really passionate about politics and I liked being around him. During one of those conversations, about a month after we met, he invited me to a fundraising dinner. Not as a date but as a friend. It was a political thing, something he was interested in. I agreed. We went. We had a fun night. He took me home and that was that.”
Rhys listened, cataloging every detail.
“I saw him in class after that and we had coffee a couple more times, but it was obvious we were never going to be more than friends. We were just too different and the semester was almost over. I was okay with that. I was nineteen years old, and certainly not looking for anything serious. I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life and I was still trying to get over my parent’s deaths.” Amy looked up at Wolfe. “One day after class, he pulled me aside and said there was someone who wanted to meet me. I was confused at first, not understanding. He said the guy had approached him at the dinner and he’d been hesitant to tell me. Of course, he didn’t elaborate, but it didn’t matter, I wasn’t interested.”
“This guy you were semi-dating told you about another guy who wanted to meet you?” Lynx questioned, his voice causing Copenhagen to lift his head. “Just trying to make sure I’m on the same page.”
“We were never dating, but yes.” She nodded, reaching down and petting the dog’s head. “I told him thanks but no thanks and went about my business. Another week went by and he approached me again. Said this guy was a big deal in the political arena and that it would benefit me if I at least talked to him. Apparently, the guy had contacted him again. I tried to tell him that I wasn’t interested in politics the way he was, but he didn’t listen.” Amy took a deep breath. “A couple of days later, the man called me.”
Rhys shifted his feet. He didn’t like this already.
“How’d he get your phone number?” Wolfe asked.
“I assume the guy in class gave it to him. There was a study group and I’d signed up. We had to put that information on the sign-up sheet so we could be contacted. My uncle had gotten me a cell phone, said he wanted me to have it in case I ever needed anything
. You know, if my car broke down or something.”
Wolfe nodded, seemingly content with that answer.
“Turns out, I’d been introduced to this man at the party, but I didn’t remember anyone specifically. I’d been introduced to so many people that night, but I hadn’t tried to tie names with faces. The first time we talked, he described himself, and then I definitely remembered him. Good-looking man, distinguished, well-dressed, exuded power and authority. I think I was flattered that he was interested in me. Up to that point in my life, other than the few coffee shop visits with the guy in my class, I had never been on a date.”
“You never dated in high school?” Lynx sounded incredulous.
Everyone in town knew that the Caine cousins had been dating since a very early age. And by dating, Rhys meant they were having sex.
“No. I was a straight-A student, and when I wasn’t studying, I was spending time with the few friends I had or with my parents. I was really close with them. When they died, I didn’t care about boys or dating … or anything really.” Amy looked at Rhys. “This man who called me … he was and still is in law enforcement. But that’s all I’m gonna tell you.”
Rhys gave her a brief nod, his teeth grinding together. He would find out more, in time.
“So, we talked on the phone for about a week and then he asked if he could take me to dinner. I agreed, excited that he would want to take me out. Like I said, I’d never dated. I told my aunt and uncle what was going on. They were a little leery, but they didn’t try to stop me. Not at first.
“He took me out to a nice restaurant on a Saturday night, then brought me home, kissed me on my front porch. We started talking on the phone all the time, started going out frequently. For about three weeks, he took me out at least four times a week. Movies, dinner, bookstores, museums, the rodeo. He never tried to push for anything more than a kiss, and only when he took me home. I started spending a lot of time with him. After one of our dates, my uncle was at the door when he dropped me off. I could tell my uncle wasn’t happy, and after my date left, my uncle questioned me.”
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