Before I reach her, she turns toward the creek. “Follow me.”
My teeth grind together, not at all appreciating being told what to do, especially by a woman, but watching her ass sway in a pair of sinfully tight jeans makes me think following ain’t so bad.
She heads to the makeshift bridge over the creek, nothing more than a few downed trees pushed to cross safely over the water. Her steps are lithe and sure; clearly the bitch has experience in the forest.
“You taking me out in the middle of the woods to take advantage of me?” I step on the logs, jogging across and hopping off only to look up and meet her icy-blue stare.
“Maybe.” She shrugs and keeps walking.
A laugh rumbles in my chest and I freeze. What the fuck was that? I don’t laugh. I mean, not unless it’s at the expense of someone else.
Blinking, I move to catch up to Shyann, who’s keeping a pretty decent pace up a slight incline. We aren’t following a trail, but the path is clear of bushes and large rocks. I mentally clock which direction we’re heading just in case I do end up getting left out here and need to find my way back, but she doesn’t even look up. It’s as if this path is pulled from a map in her mind, one she’s traveled often.
I don’t know how long we’ve been hiking for, but by the time we stop, my T-shirt is damp with sweat and I’m breathing heavy. Shyann pulls an elastic band off her wrist and secures her hair into a ponytail, exposing the gentle slope of her neck, shining with exertion.
Not that I noticed.
She gives me her eyes but only for a second before looking away. “You okay?”
“Of course I’m okay.” Irritation shadows my response.
“It’s a little ways up here.” She motions to the hill thick with shrubs and crisscrossed fallen tree trunks. “Let me know if you need me to carry you.”
My hand flies on instinct and swats her ass so hard a flock of birds spook and scatter from a nearby tree.
Shyann squeaks and pins me with a glare that stirs my blood.
It’s not hatred working behind her eyes; it’s something else. Heated in a way that makes me aware of my own racing pulse.
The trance is broken when she whips her head around and takes off up the hill. The animal inside me can’t stand to be run from, so I squash my thoughts and allow the hunter to take over.
I zero in on her back while my legs eat up earth at my feet. She must hear me gaining on her and cries out as I give chase. She zigzags through trees, pushing past overgrown bushes, but she’s no match for me and the distance between us dissolves.
I reach out and snag the back of her sweater, pulling hard. She stops, stumbles, then slams back into my chest. My arms wrap around her stomach in a vise grip and I brush my lips against her ear. “Nice try.” I’m breathing heavy and her entire body shivers against me. “I’ll always win, Shyann.”
She arches, just enough that her ass presses into my stiff groin. I groan and take a few steps, pushing her with me and pressing her into the trunk of a large pine. Her hands come up to shield the tender skin of her cheek against the rough bark. We’re both breathing hard, my heart racing against her back, and the pulse at her neck flutters against my lips.
“Gage…” My name falls from her mouth on a needy whimper.
“What are you doing to me?” I don’t know why I ask, other than it’s the only question flaring in my mind, pushing at my skull, and I need to know the answer. Need it so bad I’d be willing to break her in half to find it.
I pin her hips with mine, making sure she can’t get free, and dip my hand under her sweater. Her skin is hot and sticky with sweat and my mouth waters to taste it. I roughly drag my palm up her side, branding her with a heavy hand, until I reach the silky fabric of her bra. I pull impatiently at it, more desperate than I’ve ever been to capture the weight of her breast.
She pushes back, freeing space between her and the tree’s trunk. “Yes, please…”
“Shhh…don’t beg.” No, I can’t stand the sound of her begging, the weakness, proof that I broke her. “Fight.” I rip the cup of her bra down harshly and she moans at the snap of stiches being torn. The heat of her tit falls heavy into my hand and I squeeze it hard. “Where’s my tough girl?”
Her body stiffens. Muscles coil.
“That’s it, baby.”
She pushes back, rubbing me with her ass. My forehead drops to her shoulder on a moan. “Fuck…you don’t fight fair.”
“Gage, I—”
“Shhh…I’ll give you what you want.” It’s what I’ve seen glowing in her eyes since the first time we met. The hunger, raw lust, simmering below the surface of a heavily controlled façade. As much as I want this woman to leave Luke alone, to stop fucking with his emotions, stop toying with his heart, I also want to taste her. I want to drive into her tight little body and hear her scream my name so loud the entire town will know who I am. I want to punish her for being irresistible and reward her for her silence, for her protection.
I pull at her stiff nipple, and she digs her nails into my arms. My hips roll against her ass, encouraging her to open her legs, while my free hand slides up to wrap her silky black hair around my fist. Once, twice, and I tug her head back. Her dark lips are parted, eyes closed, and she’s writhing against me. Damn, never seen anything so beautiful in my life.
“Fuck, look at you.” My mouth claims hers in a brutal kiss. Her head wrenched back and the long column of her neck so tempting that if I weren’t toying with her breast, I’d wrap my hand around it just to feel the life blood pumping through her veins.
I pillage her mouth with my tongue, coaxing her to meet me with equal force and she accepts the challenge. Her teeth nip at my lips, chasing me down until she finally grabs my lower lip and bites. I growl, whirl her around, and slam her back against the tree.
Her hands go to my chest as I pin her between me and the trunk. “Gage, wait.”
“What? No.” I pop the button on her jeans and shove my hand between her legs, cupping her possessively over her panties. “Don’t tell me to stop, Shy.”
Her cheeks flush and she bites her lower lip, her eyes flashing with carnal need. My hand has little room to move in the confines of her tight pants, but I manage to create some friction that has her body falling limply against me.
“It’s not right…this, us, it’s…” A low moan vibrates in her chest as my palm zeros in on the sensitive spot between her legs. “It’s not fair.” Her hot breath ghosts against my neck. “To Lucas.”
My body stills. Shit.
Luke.
He’s the one she’s into. Not me. She practically hates me.
I pull back and gaze down at her and the bitch has the decency to at least look embarrassed.
Suddenly I’m painfully aware of my body. The banging of my heart behind my ribs, the jolt of electricity I feel where her skin touches mine, my fingers aching to explore every inch of her naked flesh. And she’s asking for Luke.
My eyes pull tight and I press hard between her legs. “This for him, Shy?”
“I…” Her eyes search mine, as if she’s looking for Luke to save her. “I care a lot about Lucas, Gage. It’s his body, he should be here.”
“His body.” My jaw hardens and I step back, pulling my hands free of her.
She scampers to cover herself and button her jeans. Her eyes avoid mine as she smooths loose strands of her hair back into place. A tick of pride at knocking her off kilter swells in my chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that go on for that long.”
“I was there, Shy Ann. Couldn’t have controlled yourself if you’d wanted to.”
She scoffs and brushes her hands off on her thighs. “Why, aren’t we arrogant.”
“Not gonna deny that, but the evidence was in my hands, baby.”
Her cheeks flush a deep crimson and she storms off ahead of me. I chuckle, and follow after, not at all happy about the chafing of thick denim against my dick that’s rock hard and oversensitized. This is her fault
. She’s an evil little temptress. Now I’m suffering with the world’s worst case of blue balls all for Luke. Not the first time I’ve been put through hell for him.
After a few minutes and a lot of cold shower thoughts, the incline levels to a small clearing. I study the space, noticing nothing spectacular about it, certainly not worth the hour-long hike it took to get here. Not including the impromptu make-out, which would’ve made the hike perfect if Shy had put out. Prude.
She moves to the far end where there’s a small tree that has no business in this particular forest. The thing is only about six feet tall, its branches drooping with long leaves that from a distance resemble hair. Shyann kneels at the base of the tree and turns to me, motioning for me to come over, before turning back to the small trunk.
What in the hell is she up to now? Nature worship? I internally smack myself upside the head, because staring at the strangely feminine-looking piece of horticulture, I can’t help but feel like I’m on sacred ground.
“What is it?” I jerk my chin to the thing while feeling completely uncomfortable for some godforsaken reason.
“This is a willow tree.”
“Huh—”
“And it’s also my mom.” She peers up at me with a shaky smile. “Gage, this is Annika Jennings.” She turns back to the tree. “Momma…” she whispers. “This is Gage.”
I squat down beside her. “You think your mom…is a tree?”
It’s possible Shyann’s just as fucked in the head as I am.
Her eyes twinkle with laughter and I force away the warm feeling her happiness evokes in my chest. “No. My mom is buried under this tree.”
“What?” I shoot upright and take a step to the side. “Like, here…right here?”
“Yes. She believed that all life came from the earth and, when it ended, should be returned back to it.”
I tuck my hands under my armpits. “So you just…tossed her body in a hole? Fuck, and you thought I was ruthless.”
“No, we didn’t just toss her body in a hole. We got a biodegradable coffin.” She turns back to the tree. “Her body will decompose and nourish this tree along with everything around it for…gosh”—she picks a wildflower and presses it to her nose—“who knows how long.”
“Why’d you bring me here? You said you wanted to talk. Is this what you wanted to talk about, your dead mom turning into worm food beneath our feet?”
She curls in on herself and I immediately wish I could suck the words back into my mouth, and simultaneously kick my own ass for caring.
“No, I guess I just wanted to trust you with something important.” She feathers her hand over some wild grass. “I’ve never brought anyone up here before. The only people who know she’s here are Cody, my dad, me…and now you.”
What the fuck does she expect me to do with that?
“I know you don’t want to trust me, Gage. You want me to prove to you that I’m a danger to Lucas, but you know deep down I’m not. The truth is, I’ve never cared for anyone as deeply as I do him. I know you want me to walk away, to turn my back on you guys and pretend we never met, but I can’t.”
You guys?
There’s a spasm in my chest so powerful I grip my shirt over my heart.
Me and Lucas.
My pulse races as I consider what she’s saying.
“What do you want from us?”
She pushes to stand and my fight-or-flight response flares. For the first time ever, I feel fragile, like thin glass, totally transparent and vulnerable. If she comes too close, touches me, I’ll shatter from the intensity of her concern.
Of course she sees through me and stops, but her eyes, those soul-sucking, life-giving eyes, bore into mine. “I want you to trust me, Gage. I want you to tell me the truth. Was it you that hurt Sam?”
Twenty-Nine
Gage
The unease I saw back when she was grilling Luke about the past is back. It flickers in her eyes like a green light giving me the all clear to terrorize her. All this bullshit about trust and she’s still scared of me.
I smirk, irritated and fucking over trying to understand this woman. “Maybe I did.”
She studies me and whatever she sees causes a fraction of her fear to dissolve. “You still don’t trust me.”
“And you don’t trust me. Guess that makes us even.”
“What happened the night your family died?”
I stumble back at her complete one-eighty. I want to let Luke take over. I should let Luke take over. I’ve left him clueless on purpose so that he’ll never have to pay for our crimes. The hideousness of what happened that night is enough to give even the strongest man nightmares.
Luke couldn’t handle it.
“Why?” No, not why. The answer is no. Always no!
“Trust is a two-way street. You’ve got to give me something.”
“Ask Luke.”
“Lucas is…confused. He’s lost these huge chunks of his life and—”
“It’s for his own good. The things he doesn’t know would destroy him if he did.”
“You’re not giving him enough credit.”
I flex my fists. “You don’t even know him!”
“Maybe that’s true, but don’t you think he deserves to have his life back? My gosh, Gage, he’s running and he doesn’t even know why. He lives with the guilt that you killed his little brothers and sister—”
“That’s good. He’ll be safer that way.”
She shakes her head and frowns. “I don’t believe that. Not even for a second.”
Damn, this woman is relentless to make me fucking crazy!
“Who killed your siblings, Gage?”
I rip my hands through my hair and grip. “Stop talking.”
“Was it your mom?” Her voice breaks on that putrid three-letter word.
I pin her with a glare. “Don’t do this.”
“She hurt you, didn’t she.” Her demands grow louder. “Tell me what happened. You were there. She hurt you and you couldn’t take it anymore, could you? How bad did it get for you, Gage? What did she do to you?!”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“Who killed your brothers and sister? Tell me!”
“I did!”
She recoils and her eyes tighten.
Adrenaline explodes in my veins and I want her to shut up! “I killed them, all right! Are you fucking happy?”
She huffs out a breath. “No, I’m not fucking happy. Because you’re a liar.” She throws her arms out. “This was a mistake. Bringing you here…” Her eyes find mine. “I never should’ve trusted you with this.”
The words are like a sucker punch to the gut.
She moves back to her mom’s tree and kneels. Staring at the back of her head, I’m struck with her beauty, her strength, her unwavering fucking balls that would have her turn her back on an admitted murderer. A murderer of children!
I growl in frustration, so sick of denying what my insides are screaming. She is the most fascinating person I’ve ever known, and for the first time in my existence, I’ve met someone who makes me want to give away everything.
Shyann
I sit with my heart pounding in my throat, the cool earth beneath my knees, and the fire of anger in my gut. Why won’t he just let me in? I thought if I shared something deeply personal with him, he’d do the same. He’d understand I could be trusted if I opened up the most private part of my life to him.
Footsteps sound behind me and my muscles coil tight. He won’t hurt me; I believe with every cell in my body that he’d never hurt me.
“She’d make him watch.” His deep voice is rough with emotion, as if the words are being pulled from his throat over broken glass. “They were babies and…”
I exhale, close my eyes, and relief lightens the weight pressing in on my chest. He’s opening up.
“She blamed them—her husband left and she blamed them.” He clears his throat, but I don’t dare look up, acting as still as the forest so he’ll continue his con
fession. “One day she was holding Mikey’s hand over the burner on the stove. He was so hungry he’d taken something out of the garbage and she caught him. The screams. I’ll never forget the sound of his screams. Luke was crying, begging, offering himself up in Mikey’s place, but every time he tried, Mikey would scream more. I snapped. I couldn’t take any more of the screaming.” A few beats of silence build thickly between us. “Ask me what I did, Shy,” he whispers.
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry and clogged with tears. “What did you do?”
“I attacked her.” There’s a smile in his voice. “I shoved Luke into the dark and I tackled the bitch. I punched that stupid whore as hard as my eight-year-old body would allow.”
I try to hold back, but a whimper falls from my lips. The things Lucas has seen, the extremes he was forced to endure. Would it be so shocking after years of this kind of treatment he’d want to end the pain? Send his siblings to an eternal peace rather than a lifetime of torture? Would I blame him if he did?
“I only got a few good hits in. She was bigger. Stronger. And, fuck, the bitch could throw down punishment as if she were Satan himself. I’ve had to bathe in boiling water, go weeks only eating whatever she left for me in the toilet—”
I gasp and cover my mouth to avoid crying out.
“—sleeping in a concrete room without a bed or a fucking blanket to keep me warm. I was sick most of my life. Fevers that got so high I’d hallucinate, vomit that would be so fierce it would break all the blood vessels in my face and eyes, break my ribs—”
My arms wrap around my stomach, trying to hold myself together.
“—the beatings that seemed to never end. The starvation. She’d finally feed me and when I’d bring the food to my lips she’d smack me so hard the food would fall to the ground and I’d see stars. You know what it’s like to eat your food off the ground? To crawl on your knees with your hands held behind your back and have to lick your food off the dirty fucking floor, Shyann?”
“No.”
“No, of course you don’t.” He shuffles closer, but I keep my head down. “Sucks your mom got sick and died, but don’t expect an ounce of sympathy from me. At least you had a mom who didn’t make it her fucking joy in life to torture you.”
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