“We need to figure out what he was doing,” Elijah said.
“I know what he was doing. But he wasn’t alone. Well, he worked alone but there was a man he spoke to. A Dr. Dennison. He was angry with Lance.”
Marcus watched her, not liking the intimacy of her using her kidnapper’s first name.
“Lance Weston?” Elijah asked.
“Yes, that’s right. He was on his way out to deliver a sample of what he was working on. I don’t know why he came back. Maybe he had taken the wrong vial.”
“So he created something to become one of us?”
She shook her head. “No, that seemed to be a side effect he was trying to understand. He wanted it to stop.”
Elijah looked through the desk and gathered up the notebooks there.
“He’s sick. I think he was trying to cure his Parkinson’s,” Rachel went on.
She turned to Marcus and flushed red. He realized she only just saw that he, Elijah, and she were all naked.
“There are some clothes in that closet,” she said, looking away.
Elijah opened the closet door and took out two pair of jeans and t-shirts. He tossed one set to Marcus who stood close to Rachel, unwilling to move too far from her side. The men got dressed and Elijah looked again in the closet. “I don’t think there’s anything here in your size. Here, put this on for now,” he said, handing Rachel a sweater that fit her like a too big dress.
“I tried to call you,” she said, looking at Elijah.
“I saw that. Listen, I think we’d better get out of here while we can.”
His saying that and the sound of cars outside came almost simultaneously.
“Let’s go. Out the back,” Marcus said, lifting Rachel, momentarily surprised at her resistance. It must be because of what she had just gone through, he though. He ignored it and kept hold of her, carrying her with him. He glanced out one of the front windows to watch three men in dark suits approaching the front door before they slipped out of the back and into the cover of the woods. From there, they hid and watched as the men circled around back. When they saw the state of the back door, they all pulled out weapons and one dialed someone on his cell phone.
“Let’s go,” Marcus whispered to Elijah, his eyes still on the men who now scanned the woods.
Elijah nodded, walking backwards a ways, the three of them disappearing into the woods.
Chapter Thirteen
Rachel stood under the hot water of the shower. Her head hurt and she was bruised all over. But what bothered her the most right now were her feelings over seeing Marcus. Her reaction to him had not been what she had expected.
It had taken them some time but they had reached her house, hastily packed a bag and before she could think, Marcus had loaded her into the car and the two of them had driven well into the night. He had just checked them into a roadside motel not twenty minutes ago and was now out picking up something to eat for dinner.
She had told them everything she knew, including the link between her kidnapper and the men who were responsible for the kidnapping and murder of Marcus and Elijah’s family. She hadn’t been able to meet Marcus’ eyes once during the entire time though and she couldn’t understand it. Shouldn’t she be happy he was back? Wasn’t this what she wanted? What she had been waiting for?
She switched off the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. It must have been the effect of everything that had happened in the past few days that she wasn’t thinking straight.
A knock at the bathroom door startled her. “Rachel?” Marcus asked.
“I’ll be right out,” she said, confused.
He didn’t say anything but she knew he felt it too. Her reaction was off. Wrong. In fact, she wasn’t sure she could even go along with the plan they had decided on.
Elijah had gone back home, not wanting to leave Kayla and the baby alone, afraid the creature would pick up their scent somehow and come after them. Rachel had agreed, not wanting to bring Kayla or Clarissa to her house. Knowing he knew where she lived, she couldn’t put them in any danger.
They had discussed the other danger, that of this Dr. Dennison and the men who had come to the house. This had to be dealt with. What they thought was behind them was not behind them at all. One of the men responsible for the murders of the wolf pack was still very much alive, even if they weren’t certain of the extent of his involvement. There was only one thing to do at the moment and that was to get out of town. Rachel fully believed it was her only choice. She just didn’t know how she was going to do it with Marcus. The brothers had determined their plan and neither had asked her opinion. That part made her angry. She knew they were thinking of her safety, but it still irked her that he could walk back into her life and just decide something as important as this for her.
But that wasn’t at the heart of the matter. She didn’t trust him not to leave again—that was the problem. And she couldn’t go through the heartbreak of losing him for a third time. She wouldn’t survive that.
She wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror and looked at her reflection. That was it; that was her problem with him. He had left her once involuntarily and once of his own free will. How could she believe he wouldn’t do the same this time?
She pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater, brushed her long dark hair and wound it into a messy bun to keep the wet length off her back. She took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door to face him.
“Rachel,” he said, turning to her.
She wondered if he had been having similar thoughts given that his expression looked as heavy as she felt. His eyes, usually golden, were darker now, shadowed. Rough stubble covered his square jaw and his dark hair had grown a little longer, his body seemed taller and bigger. She looked at his thick, muscled arms, his big hands, then back up at his face. The attraction she had always felt for him hadn’t faded, not even a little.
But the hurt took precedence now. “You never even called just to say you were still alive,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.
He took a step closer but she shook her head and stepped back.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I thought I was doing what was best for everyone. I was in a bad place, Rachel.”
“You were in a bad place? What about Elijah? What about me, Marcus?” she asked. “Or you thought we were in good places, he and I? Hmm?” She was unable to keep the accusation from her voice.
Marcus hung his head. He didn’t have an answer.
“That’s all. You have nothing to say. Damn you, Marcus. I mourned you not once but twice!”
He looked at her, anger momentarily overshadowing the guilt she saw in his eyes. “I don’t know how many times or how many ways I can say I’m sorry. I was wrong, what I did was wrong. But I’m back now, Rachel. And I’m going to make it up to you, I’m going to take care of you.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me.”
“I disagree.”
“It’s not up to you. I’ll stick to the plan, I’ll go away for a while. You need to help Elijah take care of this thing before it comes after Kayla or the baby. You don’t need to take care of me, I’ve learned over the last year to do that on my own.”
“Not very well from what I’ve heard,” he said, taking a step closer and this time, not stopping when she backed up.
“Where were you anyway? Where were you all this time?” Hurt was expressing itself now. It was a defensive anger. She knew he had done what he had to do, didn’t she?
“Does it matter?” he asked. He sat down on the bed, shoulders slumped, looking at her. “If you think a day went by when I didn’t think of you, you’re wrong,” he said.
Her eyes filled with tears. She was moments from an overflow. “You didn’t even call once.”
“I thought I was doing what was best for you. Forcing you to forget me.”
“But I didn’t and you knew I couldn’t. It’s not how we’re made, either one
of us.” She knew that at her core: she and Marcus were meant to be together, had always been. It was just as clear now as ever.
He stood and took a few steps to cover the space between them. He then put his hands on her arms and rubbed, then held her, looking down at her. “Nothing has changed for me, Rachel.”
“Marcus,” she began, tears making it difficult to speak. “I only just decided to try to let you go,” she said. “This isn’t fair.” She sniffled, cursing herself for her weakness.
“I know,” he said, pulling her into his chest and holding her there while she wept.
* * *
Marcus looked down at the top of her head as she sobbed, her body trembling in his arms. He hadn’t realized how much his leaving her would hurt her.
He had abandoned her.
Once she quieted, he pulled her back and looked down at her. “I won’t let you go again, not ever again, Rachel. I promise.”
Her eyes were red from crying and her pale skin blotchy.
“Go wash your face. I’ll get the food unpacked for us.”
She nodded and quietly walked back into the bathroom to do as he had said. He unpacked the burgers he had picked up from the only place open: a fast food restaurant by the exit of the highway.
“Smells good,” she said, sitting down on one of the chairs at the table. “I don’t remember the last time I ate.”
He hated to ask what he had to ask next but better to get it over with. “Did he hurt you? Did he do anything else to you that you haven’t told us, Rachel?” he asked.
She looked at him, her face flushing red for a second but she shook her head. “No. He didn’t rape me if that’s what you’re asking.”
He nodded and unwrapped his hamburger. They ate in silence. He watched as she took small bites and barely finished half her sandwich. She didn’t touch her fries and he caught her glancing more than once at the large bed in the middle of the room.
He ate most of her dinner in addition to his own and cleaned up while she went to brush her teeth and get ready for bed. She returned wearing a red tank top and matching boxer shorts, barefoot, her hair loose down her back. He couldn’t help himself as his eyes swept her body, her narrow shoulders, small breasts with nipples that already pushed through the fabric of her top. Her waist was as tiny as he remembered and her hips nicely rounded. She wiggled her toes which were painted a dark red that matched her top. He smiled and met her eyes, her strange eyes. Her grandmother had the same, one the palest blue, the other a golden brown. It was the mark of the women who carried the special gene that allowed them not only to birth shifters but also to communicate telepathically with the pack with which they were mated.
Unfortunately though, it made her a target right now.
“Let’s get some sleep. I imagine you’re pretty tired,” he said, pulling back the blankets.
“Yeah, it’s the middle of the night,” she said, walking over and climbing into the bed. He tucked her in and pulled his shirt over his head. Her eyes scanned his chest, his shoulders and he noted how her cheeks flushed just a little redder.
He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. Her eyes were closed when he returned, but he knew from how she was breathing she hadn’t fallen asleep just yet. He stripped off his jeans and climbed into bed, noting how she slept as far from his side as possible with her back to him. That wasn’t going to do. Marcus settled into the bed, turned toward her and, draping one arm across her waist, pulled her to him. She gasped but didn’t resist as he tucked her small body into his own, fitting it there with his knees behind hers, her bottom against his belly, her back to his chest. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. She was using a different shampoo than he remembered but underneath it, she smelled the same. She smelled like his Rachel, exactly as he remembered her.
“Good night, Rachel,” he said, kissing her neck.
He heard her swallow. “Good night, Marcus.”
* * *
It was still dark when Rachel’s eyelids flew open.
“What is it?” Marcus asked instantly.
It took her a moment to figure out where she was but she exhaled when she realized it was Marcus who held her now. She was still pressed against him and could feel the hardness at her bottom. His hardness.
“Rachel?” he asked, pulling his arm back so she could sit up.
She looked at the clock and rubbed her eyes, pushing away the veil of dark hair that had fallen across her face. “This is impossible,” she said, suddenly shivering.
“What?” he asked again, sitting up, making her look at him.
He looked so beautiful to her, his tanned skin, his hair messy from sleep, his face soft.
“I hear him,” she said.
He immediately began to climb out of the bed but she halted him with her hand on his arm. She shook her head. “No. He’s not here,” she said, her face grave. “I heard him like I hear you or Elijah when you shift.”
Marcus stared at her, trying to process.
“But that’s impossible. You only have that with our pack.”
Then he put it together and his expression changed.
“It’s the samples he used, isn’t it?” she asked. There was something sick in this.
He nodded. “I felt something too that first time. It was familial and it didn’t make any sense.”
“They used tissue from…”
“From Collin and I,” Marcus finished for her.
“This nightmare isn’t ever going to be over, is it?” she asked, imagining what he must be feeling, the memories that likely haunted him like nothing she could ever imagine. “I’m sorry, Marcus.”
He cupped her face and pulled her closer. Reaching down, he brought his lips to hers in the softest of kisses. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, tasting him, nearly choking on the emotion she felt. He moved his other hand to her face, holding her as his kiss searched, growing hungrier, more urgent. She made a sound when the very tips of his fingers traced the line of her neck, followed her collarbone across to her shoulder, taking the strap of her top down before he pushed her onto her back and moved his body on top of hers, keeping his weight on his forearms, never breaking their kiss.
Rachel moaned when he ground his hips against her, his hardness on her softness. He lifted up for a moment and she opened her eyes to look into his, seeing his arousal there, the dilated pupils dark, his lips even fuller if that were possible. He pulled her tank top over her head and looked at her. She moved to cover herself, embarrassed beneath his gaze.
“No,” he said, catching her wrists and taking her arms overhead. “I want to see. I’ve waited too long.”
He kissed her again, this time harder, bruising the delicate skin around her lips, the growth of stubble across his jaw scratching her face. She found herself reaching upward with her face as he held her arms overhead, wanting more of him, wanting his tongue inside her mouth, hers inside his. He bit into her lower lip and she gasped, opening her eyes. He smiled and abandoned her mouth to taste her nipples, sucking each one in turn before moving south, leaving feather light kisses across her belly, licking her belly button, releasing her arms to grip the sides of her shorts and pulling them and her panties down over her thighs and off. He met her gaze for a moment as he settled between her legs, pushing them wider before moving to kiss her mound.
She opened her mouth but no sound came, just an inhale. She reached for his head.
“Keep your hands on the headboard,” he instructed, gripping both of her inner thighs and pushing them wider, just this side of too much.
Rachel gripped the headboard and closed her eyes when his tongue tickled her clit before sliding along the inner lips of her pussy.
“Oh!” she gasped again, lifting her hips to him when he closed his mouth over her clit and sucked softly at first. She kept her legs wide when he moved his hands to either side of her pussy, spreading the lips open, licking and sucking, dipping his to
ngue inside her.
“Marcus!” she managed just as one finger slid into her slick passage, then two. He sucked her swollen nub harder until it was almost too much and she gave herself over to sensation, turning her head to the side, biting her lip while her hips bucked beneath his mouth and her sex gushed.
When she lay still again, he climbed back on top of her and kissed her, his mouth wet with her taste. She kissed him back, tasting herself for the first time, reaching for the waistband of his underwear and pushing them down.
Marcus slid them off and she looked up at him as he knelt between her legs. She opened her legs wider and reached for him. She glimpsed the length of his cock, the wider head, the sheen that covered the tip. She swallowed when he rubbed it against her pussy and lifted to him, knowing it would hurt, not wanting to tell him to be gentle. Not wanting him to be gentle.
His expression changed when he dipped inside her and he gripped her wrists once more, spreading her arms wide, his eyes on hers. He moved his hips and thrust into her, forcing a cry from her lips. His shocked eyes met hers.
“Rachel,” he began.
“Please,” she begged, lifting her hips again, pressing into him.
He pulled back and this time, he pushed more slowly as blood mixed with arousal and her passage stretched to accommodate his length, his thickness. He gripped her wrists tighter.
“Eyes open,” he said when she closed them. “Look at me. I want to watch you come.”
He pulled all the way out then and thrust into her, fucking her hard and fast as she writhed beneath him. She didn’t think it would be possible but he grew thicker inside her and her pussy clenched around his cock. He slowed just before she felt the throbbing, struggling to keep her eyes open, clutching his shoulders tight. She lost herself in orgasm as he spilled inside her with a groan of pleasure before collapsing his full weight on top of her.
* * *
“Why didn’t you tell me you were still a virgin?” he asked, lifting up onto his elbows once he realized the difficulty she was having breathing.
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