Strange Case, an Urban Fantasy (Hyde Book III)

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Strange Case, an Urban Fantasy (Hyde Book III) Page 24

by Lauren Stewart


  Chapter XXXI

  Mitch ran like a gale-force wind, hoping he’d find the landmarks she mentioned. He did. Even when she was breaking apart, she gave great directions.

  When he got to the truck yard, he slowed down and shook out his arms and legs. He wasn’t tired, but between his less-than-ideal emotional state and the run, his adrenaline was in the red zone.

  Eden stood in between a tractor and their truck. And her hair was blond. And short. But that wasn’t why she looked different.

  He wanted to haul ass over to her, toss her over his shoulder and carry her away from all of this, maybe even throw a spank or two in there. But he knew her too well to try anything like that—she was a pipe bomb right now.

  Approach with caution. Figure out the damage before you try to fix it.

  “Is Whittley in there?”

  She nodded.

  He moved past her and flipped the lock on the door, opening it and seeing nothing but darkness. “You still breathing?”

  “Barely.”

  ‘Barely’ was good enough. Mitch lowered the door and locked it before saying anything to her. He took a deep breath, knowing that without it, whatever he said would come out angry and desperate. Because he was feeling angry and desperate.

  His normally miniscule patience was gone, and his frustration was equal to his confusion. What should he do with her? For her? After checking the lock again, he grabbed her hand and pulled her away. To get something out of Whittley, they needed to appear as a united front, so he shouldn’t hear what Mitch was about to say.

  He led her across the truck yard, and then let her go, leaning against the side of a busted up and rusty car. She leaned back against another, a ravine of only a few feet between them that he wasn’t sure he could jump.

  Start slow. Tread carefully. “What are you doing here, babe?”

  “I’m trying to find a way out of this.”

  “By making a mistake you won’t be able to fix?”

  Her anger might trump his. The look in her eyes was of determination, not fear or uncertainty. “He’s the one who made the mistakes, Mitch. And he’s the one who should pay for them.”

  He hammered his fist against the hood of the car, her mood feeding his. “Can you even hear yourself? You’re giving in to it. But you’re better than that. Stronger than that. This isn’t you. This is them getting inside your head and making you react like they would. Don’t forget who you are.” He paused. “Or the prize isn’t worth fighting for.”

  “The prize is us having a life together,” she yelled.

  “If it changes who we are, what do we win? Don’t give in or we’ll lose everything.”

  “You gave in. You let Hyde take over. You let him take you away from me.”

  “Don’t you think I would’ve done it differently if I’d had a choice?” He lowered his voice, wanting to reach out to her, touch her, but knowing she would smack his hand away if he tried. “I chose you. And I did what I did to save you. So be the person I fought to save.”

  “She doesn’t exist anymore.”

  “Of course she does. I can see her. I can feel her. Use some of that incredible strength you have to pull her out, wake her up. For me. Because cosmically-speaking, you owe me one.” Even his joke couldn’t pull her out of whatever state of mind she was in.

  “You owe me one,” she spat. “You owe me everything because you gave up. And then you went into wherever you were and left me to deal with it. I had to deal with him while I was mourning you.” She shuddered with anger. “So don’t tell me what to do. And don’t tell me who I am. Because you don’t know who I am anymore.”

  “You’ve never been more wrong, babe.”

  She moved so quickly, he didn’t have time to duck. Her fist connected with his jaw, and he fell back onto the car. Before he could straighten up, she was on him, trying to hurt him. Like he’d hurt her. But he hadn’t had a choice.

  “Stop!” In shock and without thought, he pushed her off harder than he should have.

  She stumbled, throwing a hand out to catch herself. The next time she came at him, he was more prepared. When her fist shot out, he caught her wrist and twisted, hoping she would stop fighting before he broke it. She screamed as she flipped around, kicking out and barely missing him. He shoved her up against the car, caging her body with his. Trapping her.

  “Do you want to kill me too?” he said breathlessly. “Do you?” He held both of her hands onto the car’s roof so she wouldn’t move.

  She squirmed, but couldn’t get out from under his weight. She accomplished something though—the wiggling rubbed her ass against his cock. A poorly-timed reaction and not a useful one. When her back arched, her hips pressed into his, and her exhalation held a quiet moan, he knew she felt him harden.

  For a few more seconds, she fought him. And then she stopped, her breath broken. He didn’t want her to break. That’s why he was here, and why he always wanted to be here—so he could make sure that she was whole. And, so far, he was doing a piss-poor job of it.

  “Why did you do it?” she asked quietly. She sounded so hurt, he wanted to take back everything he’d ever said, done, or thought. “Why did you give up?”

  He accepted her anger and wished that he’d forced her to talk about it earlier, before things got this far. But this was one of those ‘better late than never’ situations—if he didn’t reel her back now, it would never happen. This was Eden. Hidden under pure rage and fear and the need for balance—to have someone else feel the pain she was.

  “I did it because I wanted you to be free,” he said quietly. “Because I didn’t care what happened to me, as long as you were okay.” Which was obviously a mistake because she was far from okay. “If I had known— Shit, I don’t know what I would’ve done because there was no other way.”

  She shoved both of them backwards and flipped around to face him. Before she could throw another punch, he pushed her into the car, lifting her off her feet. They were both gasping for air. Both so much in need of solace.

  “This isn’t you, babe.”

  She couldn’t keep going down this road. Because it dead-ended with a brick wall. “Don’t tell me how to live my life,” she said through her teeth. “You lost that privilege a while ago. You have no right to—”

  “I have a right to what’s mine. And as long as I’m still breathing, you are mine.”

  She inhaled sharply, her eyes on fire. “Then take me.”

  So he did.

  Right there, thirty feet away from their enemy, up against an abandoned car, he took. He knew the danger of letting her go, even for the few seconds she needed to undo his pants and free his cock. But there was no stopping this. Whatever she needed, however she needed him, wasn’t nearly as much as he needed her.

  He lifted her skirt and yanked on her panties. When he heard the fabric tear, he froze. But only for a second. He grabbed the other side and ripped them the rest of the way off. Then he put his hands under her ass, lifted her up, and sunk all the way into her. She gasped, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

  It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t even loving. It was raw, fast, and rough—their mutual need driving each stroke, each inhalation, each moan. It had never been like this before. When they made love, it was about creating a deeper connection, savoring the moment and each other, even when it started in frustration or anger.

  But not now. Right now, they were fucking. Because if they didn’t, they would explode in a far more violent way. So he didn’t think, and he wasn’t gentle. He took. She was his, as he was hers. More than life and beyond death. They belonged to each other.

  Her whimpers and gasps were the most incredible music he’d ever heard, keeping rhythm with the movement of his hips as he pounded into her. He didn’t release her mouth, not for one second, needing to feel the vibrations of her moans ricochet through him.

  It was so intense, it bordered on pain, and it only got better the harder and faster he thrusted. She felt so
fucking good. He wouldn’t have stopped if the sky fell down on them.

  Only with her could something feel this amazing. But there was something…Something in the back of his mind that he just couldn’t grasp.

  When he felt her body clamp down on his cock, her abs tighten, her breath stop, he knew he was done for.

  He pulled back to see her face as she came. “You will always be mine.” Then he was toppled by an orgasm unlike any other. It didn’t stop, didn’t relent, didn’t let go, pulsing out of him and into her, connecting them even more. Nothing could ever come between them.

  He leaned his forehead against hers and tried to start breathing again. She was limp in his arms, as if all of that fire had been extinguished by a good old-fashioned orgasm.

  “Are you okay?”

  Her arms came back to life and she hugged him, clutching him desperately. “I needed you and you left me.”

  “I didn’t know what else to do. I just wanted you to be safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, babe. To know you’re safe.”

  “No one is safe. It’s not safe to be around me.”

  “We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure something out.” He started talking, letting out all the things he’d been afraid to say aloud—the ones that made him sound like a complete wuss. Things only ever heard in chick flicks, because no man alive would ever admit to feeling that way.

  Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing.

  After the tension started to leave her body, he pushed off the car and tried to set her down. She only tightened her grip around his shoulders and his hips. So he stood still and held her while she cried, knowing it was the best thing—the only thing—he could do for her right now.

  He had no idea how long they stayed that way. How long he watched her shoulders hiccup and heard her muffled weeping. How many times he kissed her hair, rocked her, told her how much he loved her.

  He didn’t want to let go of her—ever—but there was no stopping the clock. And there was still so much more to do before he had to leave her again.

  And then it hit him. Like a wrecking ball. The thought he hadn’t been able to grasp before. That was just out of reach of a brain emptied of blood and sense.

  You’reamotherfuckinggoddamnidiot! He wasn’t sure if he’d said it aloud or if she was reacting to the tension that had just contracted every single muscle in his body, but she sobbed quietly against his chest.

  “I’m so sorry, Mitch.”

  “No,” he said, lifting her chin and wiping a tear away with his thumb. Then another. And another. “No, babe, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Well, yeah, she did a bucket load of wrong but, at this particular moment in time, he was the one who should be sorry.

  He took a breath, looking into moist, beautiful silver-blue eyes that held nothing but love for a guy who didn’t deserve it. Now more than ever. Not after everything she’d gone through. Not after what he’d just done.

  “I came inside of you.” In his entire life he’d never forgotten to use protection. Never got so far into the moment that he dared forget. Because the last thing the world needed was a mini him, with all the baggage and Abnormalness he would pass on. And as beautiful of a child they might have would be, the kid would be doubly cursed.

  “Oh,” was all she said.

  Oh? He may have just knocked her up leaning against a rusted-out car and all she said was ‘oh’? In an unknown amount of time he might die and leave her pregnant with a demon child and all she said was ‘oh’?

  “Did you hear me?” he asked. “I came inside of you. Without a condom.”

  “I was here too.”

  “I came inside of you,” he repeated, to make her understand the ramifications without having to actually put it into words. Because, let’s face it, words were not his strong suit—proven by the last thirty years he’d been speaking.

  If he didn’t already have enough to deal with, and there wasn’t a good chance he’d be dead soon, this would’ve put him into a straitjacket for a few weeks until the test came back. Then he’d do the padded-room thing for three trimesters. Then, if it was a boy, he’d have fifteen years to prepare himself for the kid’s Hyde to show up. And if it was a girl, he’d have the same amount of time to prepare himself for any teenage boy who came within twenty yards of her to show up. And her Jekyll, I guess.

  But instead, being the bang-up asshole that he was, he’d probably be dead and Eden would get to have all the really-not-fun by herself.

  “I heard you the first time,” she said. “But I got an IUD as soon as we left The Clinic.”

  “Oh.”

  She didn’t need to tell him why—he already knew. The Clinic wanted her to reproduce. So even if he never came back, she protected herself from that.

  It made him want to bleed them out slowly and let them feel every chance of life drip out of them. But he wouldn’t. Probably.

  “And my cycle has been a bit off since all of this started,” she said. “Anyway, I’m not sure what we can do about it now. I guess I could jump around and try to shake your little guys out of me, but I don’t think that works very well.”

  Shit, why hadn’t he thought of that? “Maybe you should try, just in case.”

  “Mitch, I’m not jumping around.”

  “Right, I’m not thinking clearly yet.” He kissed her nose. “I didn’t know about the IUD, so I should’ve protected you. It was my screw-up…again. I’m sorry.”

  “Stop saying that unless you’re referring to all the other shit you’ve done.”

  “It was. I am. It’s all shit. You’re right. And I…I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Promise me you won’t let it happen again. And then make sure it doesn’t happen.”

  Not only was that a good idea, but it would keep him from obsessively looking at her belly, expecting it to balloon up and a mini-Hyde rip out of it a la Aliens. “I promise.” I shouldn’t, but… “I promise.”

  After another minute or so, he whispered, “Babe, I’m going to set you down now.”

  She lifted her head off his shoulder and unwrapped her legs from around his hips. He put her down slowly, giving her time to practice being on her feet again. He kept his hands on her waist as she took a very small step backwards and then wiped her face.

  She was a mess. A sickeningly beautiful mess that he couldn’t take his eyes off of. So fucking gorgeous, despite everything that was going on. It hurt to see her with anything other than a smile or a look of pleasure. But he couldn’t control the way she felt and couldn’t control what she was going through. All he could do was help her stand until she was ready to do it on her own.

  “Better?” he asked, pulling off his t-shirt and using it to wipe away her tears.

  “Mostly.”

  “‘Mostly’ is a good place to start.” He kissed her softly. A promise—not of sex, but of everything good he had in him to give. It was all hers. “I’m going to talk to him. Alone. Are you okay with that, or do we need to have another fight?”

  “I’m okay. You go play nice cop.”

  “Think he’ll believe I’m the nice one?”

  She shrugged. “He doesn’t know you very well.” A small smile broke through like the first flower of spring. But far prettier than any flower he’d ever seen.

  “I was thinking of starting out with a joke. To lighten things up.”

  “I think it’s a bit late for bad jokes.”

  “What do you mean ‘bad’?”

  She laughed. “Nothing.”

  “Thought so.” He gave them both one more minute to enjoy her smile. Then it was time to get back to work. “While I’m in there, I can’t have you wandering away. I can’t even wonder if you’re wandering away. Because then I might think you’re getting into more trouble or someone grabbed you or a bunch of other awful things. So, you’re going to drive us back to the warehouse while I’m in the back talking to him.” As long as they kept moving forward, he’d know her focus was on the road and not on anything more des
tructive.

  “What if you…”

  “Seize? Huh. Yeah.” That was definitely something to consider. Four-to-twenty-four. “It hasn’t even been four hours. Plus, I felt weird a little while before it happened last time.” That didn’t seem to put her mind at ease.

  “Thirty-eight seconds.” She spoke with certainty, as if that number had worn a place in the front of her mind.

  “Thirty-eight seconds,” he repeated. “So if I feel it again, I shove the needle into my ass and keep my thumb on the plunger. Then, when it starts, I either fall on it or my hand contracts and pushes the shit in.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  “I’ll pound on the wall as hard as I can. That’s your sign to pull over—cautiously—and come to the back. Okay? Thirty-eight seconds should be enough time.” Probably. He slipped his shirt back on. “It needs to happen like this, babe. Because while ‘mostly’ is a big step, it isn’t big enough. Not yet. You need some more time to cool down.”

  She nodded.

  He smiled and gave her a peck on the lips. “Great. Let’s go see if the bastard missed us.”

  Chapter XXXII

  The second Mitch hopped into the truck, he felt heavier, more drained, and more irritable. Between waking up from hell fairly recently and the orgasm Eden had just given him, he was tapped. He needed more practice recovering from the latter. Lots and lots of practice.

  He took a couple deep breaths, circling the asshole strapped to the chair to get a good look at him. Mitch didn’t know why he’d been worried. There was nothing to be jealous about. Frankly, he had no idea what Eden saw in the bastard. Sure, his suit was expensive, but no dry cleaner on earth would ever get those bloodstains out. Attractive? Possibly. Good bone structure, except for his nose. His nose was huge. Could’ve been because of the swelling though.

  She’d definitely done some damage. But at least the guy was breathing. Mitch shook off all thoughts of her. It was time to focus, negotiate, and manipulate. Mano a mano. Asshole to asshole.

 

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