“The police found it. The man with the gun—Dave Stark—told me.”
“The police? They’ll come looking for me and—” She stopped abruptly, relief replaced by worry. “That’s not good for you, is it?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Which is what makes it bad for me, too.”
Graham nodded slowly. “I can’t let them find me up here. And I can’t let Dave get to you, either. As much as I rely on him, I’m not sure he’d make the right decision.”
That same bit of fleeting fright passed through her features. “Who is he?”
“A friend. And a business associate, I guess. I pay him well to do the things he does for me. Food. Supplies. Information. Someone I trust.” Graham paused, wondering if the last was still true. He heaved a sigh, then went on. “He suspects you’re here, Keira. If he finds out he’s right, I think it will upset the balance between us.”
“Just tell him he’s wrong.”
“It’s not that simple. Dave came up here because he was expecting me to come to him.”
“Why?”
“He found the man we’ve been looking for—the one who actually killed Holly and Sam. He’s come back to Derby Reach.” Graham shook his head. “I’m going after him.”
Keira stared back at him and swallowed nervously. Damn, how he hated being the source of her fear.
“What are you going to do to him?” she asked.
Graham had a list of what he’d like to do, and none of it was pleasant. But he wasn’t that man.
“I’m going to get a confession,” he said. “I’m going to find irrevocable proof. And I’m going to let Dave take him in.”
“That’s where you were going when you found me,” Keira stated.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. I’m sorry, Keira,” he said softly.
She took a small step away. “You are? Why? This means what? That you’re holding me hostage?”
“Not because I want to.”
“You could just let me go,” Keira suggested.
“And then what?”
“And then I walk away.”
“Keira, just the accident by itself left too much of a chance that the wrong someone will poke their nose around and find my place. Which is what Dave pointed out. And I can’t keep you here, either.”
“I won’t tell anyone about the cabin. You could always take me back to the crash site and I’ll find my way out from there.”
“And you’ll do this wearing what? My clothes? Or that tiny dress you had on that’s barely more than a rag now? And how will you explain these stitches on your leg?”
He knew his words had an edge again, and he tried to soften them by reaching for her. But she jerked away, and that cut to the quick.
“I could tell them I don’t remember,” she offered, the worry in her tone growing stronger.
“Selective amnesia?”
“Yes.”
“Even if that wasn’t as ridiculous as it sounds...could you make it believable?” Graham asked. “Could you make them think you’d forgotten me? I sure as hell couldn’t forget you, Keira.” He didn’t give her time to respond to the admission. “Besides that...even if they bought the story, it would spike their curiosity, don’t you think? A young woman miraculously survives when her car goes over a cliff. She not only lives, but receives medical attention. You think the cops will just walk away from that?”
“But if you don’t let me go...they’ll think I’m dead,” she whispered.
“I’m aware of that possibility.”
“So why did you even bother to save me, Calloway, if you’re just going to hold me prisoner forever?”
Graham heard the desperation in her voice and when he answered, he heard it in his own, too. “Redemption.”
The word hung between them, meaning so much, but saying so little.
Chapter Fourteen
In spite of what she’d said just minutes earlier, Keira found her feet moving away from Graham. She wasn’t running. Not really. She just needed to clear her head. But she still ignored him as he called after her.
She knew with absolute certainty that Graham hadn’t killed his wife and son. She’d felt no need to ask when prompted.
But she also had a job and a life. Kids in the system who counted on her. And she sure as heck didn’t want her family to assume she was dead. Just the thought of her mom hearing about the accident made her heart squeeze.
But she also knew she wouldn’t expose his secret location. She couldn’t risk his life just to go back to her own. Not if she could avoid it.
Not that Calloway was about to let her go anyway.
And suddenly she was running again. Not away, but as a release of emotion. Back around the house and toward the woods.
It only took seconds for Calloway to catch up to her. His arms closed around her waist, and he spun her to face him. She railed against his hold, her small fists driving into his wide chest. He let her do it. His hands ran over her head and through her hair, and he whispered soothing things as she let all the emotion, all the stress of the past few days fly from her body into his.
At last her energy waned, and she stopped fighting him off. It wasn’t what she wanted to be doing anyway. She realized that at the same second she realized she was crying. Soft sobs that shook her shoulders.
She inhaled deeply, trying to stop the tears, and Calloway adjusted, sliding his hands to the small of her back. As if she belonged in his arms. As if they belonged together. As she looked up at him, his expression was soft.
“Have you noticed that every time you try to hurt me, you wind up in my arms?” Calloway asked, somehow teasing and serious at the same time.
“Have you ever noticed that I keep trying to get away?” Keira breathed, and now she could feel the telltale spots of color in her cheeks that went along with the lie.
“You sure about that?”
Keira shook her head, not sure if she was answering his question, or if she was just expressing her frustration with the whole situation.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you...were you really going to club me to death with that fire iron yesterday?” Calloway asked.
Keira managed a smile. “I was going to aim for your legs. I just wanted to knock you down.”
“A peg?” This time, there was no mistaking the teasing tone.
“That, too,” Keira confirmed.
He touched her face, cupping her cheek with a familiarity that warmed her insides.
“I just want to keep you safe,” he said.
His sincerity almost made her break down again.
“Two days ago,” she said, sounding as choked up as she felt, “I woke up thinking I knew where my life was going. Exactly where it was going. But today, it’s like I woke in someone else’s life.”
“Every day,” Calloway murmured, his voice heavy with understanding. “That’s the exact feeling I’ve had every day for four years. It’s been a living hell for me. Waking up thinking it will be the one when the truth comes out. Wanting justice. Or, if I’m being honest, craving revenge. I can’t even remember if it started that way, or if time somehow changed it. Changed me. It’s been so long since I even thought about anything else that I’m not sure. Yesterday, I could’ve had it. Revenge. But I saw you in that car. Pretty and fragile and so still. I pulled you out before I could even think about whether it was the right thing to do, considering my situation. It was instinct, I guess. I wasn’t even sure you were still alive until I saw the blood seeping from that wound on your leg. Saving you reminded me that there are other things out there for me. You gave me purpose, Keira.”
He said her name like he owned it, and her pulse skittered nervously through her veins.
H
ad any man ever looked as good as Calloway did right that second, with his brooding eyes and his half-apologetic frown? Had anyone else ever put themselves in danger to save her life? Had she ever been someone’s purpose?
Even though he wasn’t holding her tightly anymore, his eyes still held her pinned in place. And she felt a tether form between them. An inexplicable, inescapable bond from her heart to his.
Keira tilted her head in his direction. His lips were less than an inch from hers. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. She could see the longing in his eyes. His whole body was tense with need. But he didn’t make a move.
Keira was sure it should be her, not him, who was offering the most resistance. After all, it had only been two days since she decided she might date Drew. Might marry him. Though it felt like a lifetime now. And Calloway had been alone for a long time. Four years since his wife died, and who knew how many of those he’d spent in isolation?
But in the end, it was Keira who reached for him.
She threaded her fingers into his thick hair, stifling a little moan at how warm and soft it was, and how the longer bits curled against the back of her hand. She made herself caress it only lightly, afraid he was going to pull away. But he didn’t. He leaned into the attention for a moment, pressing the back of his head into her palm. Then he let her explore the contours of his lips in slow motion, her mouth tasting his and igniting something in her that was so hot she was surprised the snow underneath them wasn’t melting.
Calloway’s hands slid over her shoulders, gently kneading her sore muscles, mindful of her most damaged areas. For the first time, Keira was glad he’d stripped her down without asking. He knew where her bruises and scrapes were, and his fingers were adept at avoiding them. But his hands never stopped moving.
They traversed over Keira’s face and smoothed her hair back from her face. They tripped softly over her shoulders and down to her hips, not quite tickling, then slipped between the enormous jacket and the borrowed T-shirt to rest on her hips before sliding out again to creep up to her throat.
It was an incredible feeling, to be touched like that. His palms and the strong pads of his fingers and thumbs laid claim to Keira. They worshipped her. She wanted it to go on forever, and when Calloway finally pulled away, a regretful sigh escaped her lips.
* * *
GRAHAM STARED DOWN at Keira, committing her features to his memory. He wanted to keep that worshipful expression—the one that believed in him, that trusted him—in his mind forever.
Kissable lips.
Curved cheeks.
Elegant nose with just the slightest bump, making it interesting.
And her eyes. God, they were stunning.
Green, so vibrant and dark, they looked like the Caribbean Sea after sunset, and in the cold sun, her hair was like a crown of fire.
This time, Graham was perfectly content to let himself have the poetic moment.
In mere days, her fiery temper and moments of vulnerability and misleadingly fragile appearance had gotten under his skin. He could barely wrap his head around how badly he felt the need to protect this girl he still knew so little about. He needed more of her story.
“Tell me what you were running from in that little purple car of yours,” he commanded softly. “What was so bad that you were willing to risk your life by going out in that storm?”
She looked away. “Lately the only thing I’ve been running from is you.”
Graham knew she was trying to deflect his question. “Do I need to bring out the list of checks and balances to see whose turn it is to ask a question?”
“No.” Her chest rose and fell as she took a breath and went on. “His name is Drew. And I wasn’t running from him, I was running to him.”
Graham couldn’t keep a hint of jealousy out of his voice. “Boyfriend?”
“Potential.”
“Does he appreciate your very recent total and complete disregard for your own life?”
“No.”
Jealousy morphed into irritation, which was ridiculous. He couldn’t dampen it, though.
“Drew must be a complete idiot,” he grumbled.
Keira smiled a small smile. “No. That’s not it. He just didn’t know I was coming.”
Graham touched each upturned corner of her mouth before asking, “So you drove all the way up here, unbeknownst to Drew, based on potential?”
“Kind of.”
“Kind of yes, or kind of no?” Graham teased.
“It seems silly now,” Keira replied.
“Tell me anyway.”
“I thought maybe I was meant to be with him,” she admitted. “I thought I saw a sign.”
“Fate?”
She blushed. “Something like that. It was dumb, though. I took a chance, and instead of it being a sign, I wound up here.”
“You don’t think it could still be fate?”
The blush worked its way from her cheeks down to her throat. “You think my near-death experience was fate?”
“You know that’s not what I meant, Keira. And to tell you the truth...I just straight up don’t believe in coincidence, Keira. Fate, though, I’m onboard with, one hundred percent.”
The pink of her blush extended from her throat to the top of her chest. Graham had an urge to reach up and unzip the rest of the jacket just to see how far down the pretty color went. He closed his hands into fists to stop himself from doing it.
“So what’s fate got lined up for me next, then?” she asked softly.
“Getting you somewhere safe,” Graham replied. “Somewhere that the man who killed Holly and Sam wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near you.”
“I’m sorry, Calloway.”
“You are?”
She nodded. “If I hadn’t been so reckless, taking off in the snowstorm when I did—”
Graham cut her off. “Listen. It was stupid of me to save you, Keira. Risky as hell. But it was my risk to take.” He paused, released her to run both hands through his hair, then spoke again. “I’m glad I did it. In four years, nothing has seemed as real as the moment you opened your eyes and I realized you were alive.”
Keira reached up and put a hand on his face, that same look of awe and appreciation on her, and forget unzipping her coat—it took all of Graham’s willpower to stop himself from lifting her up and carrying her straight to his too-lumpy bed.
“In fact,” he added gruffly, “you’re the realest damned thing I’ve been around for as long as I can remember. So I don’t ever want you to be sorry on my behalf.”
She opened her mouth, but Graham didn’t get to hear whatever she’d been about to say.
A boom echoed around them, and without taking the time to think, he threw himself into her, knocking her to the ground and shielding her with his much larger body. There was a long moment of silence, and Graham wondered if he was being paranoid. There were minor avalanches in the area all the time.
But as he jumped into a defensive crouch, a second bang—possibly closer than the first—shook the air.
It was a gun, no doubt about it. Not the first time he’d heard one out here, but the first time it had seemed so close.
And it’s nowhere near hunting season.
Was someone firing at them?
It seemed unlikely, but...
A third shot rang through the air, and Graham was certain this one was closer again. Keira moved, then let out a muffled shriek as Calloway slammed into her and knocked her to the ground again.
“Can you do something for me?” he asked in a low voice.
“But—”
“Please.”
After a breath, her head bobbed against his chest in assent.
“Stay down until I say otherwise.”
He felt her nod again and he
eased off her body. He was reluctant to let her go, even a little bit, but he needed to assess where the shots were coming from and figure out if they were targeted.
He scanned what little he could see. It wasn’t much. The trees provided a perfect hiding place for a shooter. But Graham could use them, too. He and Keira could move quickly between them, using them for cover. If he could figure out which direction the shots came from, they could duck from tree to tree until they reached the cabin. Then Graham would shield Keira again. He’d grab his rifle and—
The rest of his thought was lost as a fourth shot rang out.
Bloody hell.
Graham yanked Keira to her feet, shoved her to the other side of the wide evergreen, then positioned himself in front of her, shielding her from whatever was about to come next.
Chapter Fifteen
As much as Keira preferred to think of herself as strong, she was indescribably grateful to have Calloway between her and whoever was shooting at them. She was shaking so hard, her teeth were chattering, and Calloway was reassuringly solid.
Solid, yes. But not bulletproof, pointed out a small voice in her head.
Her hand slid up to his back, and she opened her mouth to remind him of that fact. But without looking, his hand closed on her wrist, stopping her midway. As if he could sense her movement before she even followed through.
The air was eerily silent now, and they stood like that for what felt like an eternity.
Is it over? Keira wondered.
Calloway spoke in a hushed voice, his eyes still scanning the forest. “You all right back there?”
Keira took a measured breath. “If it wasn’t for someone potentially shooting at me in the middle of a forest... Nine out of ten on the sliding scale.”
There was a pause, then, in spite of the situation, Calloway let a wry chuckle. “Are you going to tell me what gets me that all-important tenth point? Or am I going to die not knowing?”
“One small thing,” Keira breathed.
“Which is?”
“Just keep us alive.”
Trusting a Stranger Page 10