by Laura Kaye
Stop it, Jess. You are fine. Or, at least, you can fake it until you make it.
She nodded to herself. Had plenty of experience doing that, didn’t she?
Step one was locking herself in nice and tight, so Jess crossed the room and threw all three locks.
Standing with her back to the door, she surveyed the cabin, wondering what to do with herself next. She sank into the couch and turned on the TV. Daytime television pretty much sucked ass, though, and it was amazing that so many channels existed and yet almost all of them were filled with crap. She paused on a house hunting show she liked but the husband wanted absolutely ridiculous things including a skateboarding park in the backyard. Like, an actual skateboarding park. So she turned the idiot box off and dropped the remote onto the cushion next to her.
At a loss for what to do, she wandered into the kitchen and got a glass of water. The breeze coming through the windows was fresh and fragrant, like flowers and pine needles. Clearly, she wasn’t in downtown Baltimore anymore.
Turning, her gaze fell on the duffle she’d quickly packed in the middle of the night. She’d been so shaken and anxious to hurry, she wasn’t even sure what the hell she’d thrown in the bag. For all she knew she had twenty panties and no pants. Which would make things really interesting around here if it were true…
Jess smirked and put her glass in the sink.
She carried the duffle to the bathroom and unpacked her toiletries and makeup, and then she went up to the loft to put away her clothes. Ah, damn, she had in fact brought pants. And shirts, too. No parading around naked to drive Ike crazy, after all.
Warm air hung in the loft like a wool blanket, so Jess turned on the ceiling fan and opened the room’s only window, which overlooked a small backyard that sloped downward toward the woods. Not too far off, she could see the lake she’d noticed when they’d first turned on to Ike’s property. It was weird to think of Ike in a place like this when almost all of Jess’s associations of him were at Hard Ink, a tattoo parlor in a gritty and largely abandoned industrial area in Baltimore.
Turning away from the window, she couldn’t help but focus on the bed—the most prominent piece in the room. A hunter-green comforter covered it, and four pillows with green-and-blue-striped cases sat piled at the top of the bed. The idea of Ike sacking out on the couch still didn’t sit right with Jess, who wasn’t sure how much more sacrifice on her behalf she could take from the guy. But the feeling of being a burden was a dear old frenemy she didn’t have a prayer of shaking any time soon.
Sighing, she emptied her bag onto the bed. Among the pants, shirts, sleep shorts, tank tops, and underthings, she found a strappy little red dress. Why she’d brought a dress, she had no idea. In her haste to grab and go, she’d mostly pulled things out of a basket of folded laundry sitting on her bedroom floor, not realizing it was among them. The closet was pretty full of Ike’s clothing, but Jess managed to find a free hanger for the dress. She stared at it sandwiched between a steel gray button-down and an old, frayed sweatshirt. It was stupid, but she liked seeing her clothes comingled with Ike’s…
Ugh, Jess. Now you’re the one being ridiculous. Only, unlike the TV, she couldn’t simply press a button to get away from all the crap in her own head.
The sound of kids screaming and laughing echoed up from the lake and pulled her out of the inane thoughts. It was a sound of such pure innocence that it simultaneously made Jess smile and tear up. Despite the fact that her mother had run off when she was eight, Jess’s dad had been awesome. He’d been busy as hell as a Baltimore police detective, but he was always attentive and funny and loving. He’d bought her first hair dye kit and gotten his fingers all stained purple helping her do it. He’d taken her dress shopping for proms and homecomings, and never said a word that her fashion choices trended toward combat boots and skulls. He’d given her an amazing childhood, and the laughter made her think of him. And miss him. And feel guilty all over again. Because he’d been killed four years ago. Protecting her.
Just like Ike was doing now. And the situation was equally—if not more—dangerous. Jess shivered.
More screams from the lake. Except…
Awareness shot through Jess and chased away the haze of memories and the tangle of troubled thoughts. Someone was screaming…and it sounded different now. Not playful, but panicked. She ducked her head into the opening in the window…and heard a faint but very clear shout for help.
Jess’s scalp prickled and a chill ran down her back.
One moment, she stood paralyzed, and the next she was barreling down the steps, through the kitchen, and out the back door. She paused in the backyard long enough to hear more desperate cries and spotted a trail that cut into the woods from behind Ike’s garage. Jess made a beeline for it, stopping every so often to make sure she was still headed in the direction of whoever was in trouble.
It seemed like she was running down a hallway that just keep getting longer and longer, but eventually the trail turned and opened up, providing a straight-on view of the water. Sweating and breathing hard, Jess broke through the edge of the trees and skidded to a halt. Scanning the lake, she saw someone splashing and trying to hold onto what appeared to be a small, overturned boat. Cries also came from a dock a little ways around the lake, where a lady was calling out to the person in the water. Jess took off toward her.
The woman noticed Jess first and flung an arm over her head. As Jess got closer, she noticed that the woman was older, her braided, pale-blonde hair all shot through with gray. In jeans and a white blouse, she was also pretty, and she reminded Jess of an old-time country-western star. A lawn chair sat behind where she stood on the dock.
“Can you swim?” the woman called, her voice strained with fear. “I can’t and my little guy can’t either, and I’m afraid Ben’s gonna pull Sam under trying to keep himself above water. I’ve called my husband but I don’t know how long it’ll take him to get here. Oh, God.” The words spilled out in a jumbled rush.
Jess’s boots pounded on the wooden planks as she closed the distance between her and the lady. “I can swim,” Jess said. “How deep is it?” She bent to unzip her tall boots and inhaled deeply, trying to get her breathing under control.
“Oh, I’m not sure. Not too deep here, but deep enough out there that they won’t have a chance of touching.” The woman paced, her hand against her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. “Hang on, Sam!”
The minute both boots were off, Jess climbed down the metal ladder at the end of the dock. The dark-green water immediately soaked through her jeans, much colder than she expected given the warm day. Fuck, she should’ve taken the denim off, too, but it was too late to worry about that now.
“Oh, hurry!” the lady cried.
Jess pushed off with her feet against one of the slimy wooden pylons and swam as fast as she could. That it had been a long time since the last time she’d gone swimming was immediately clear, but she couldn’t worry about that right now. She couldn’t worry about the bite of the cold water or the drag of the heavy denim or that she was already tired from the uncharacteristic run from Ike’s house—not to mention the fact that she’d only gotten about two hours sleep before the noise of someone breaking into her house had sent her scurrying for a hiding place.
Legs kicking, arms plowing into the water, Jess pushed herself for long minutes until finally, finally she was close enough to talk to the boys.
“Hey guys,” she said in a breathy voice. “I’m Jess.”
“I’m Sam,” the bigger boy said, fingers gripped around a handle on the edge of the boat. “This is Ben,” Sam said. Crying, the little boy stared at her with wide, terrified eyes, his arms wrapped tightly around the other boy’s neck.
“Hi, Sam.” She swam closer, close enough that her hand grasped at the boat’s aluminum bottom. “Ben. Do you think you can—”
The little boy dove at her and clutched her around the neck. His legs wrapped around her belly like a vise.
Unp
repared for the extra weight, she nearly went under. Jess grasped the same handle onto which Sam hung, pulled herself up, and shook the water off her face. Ben wailed into her ear. She had to get him calmed if she had any chance of getting him back to shore. She rubbed small circles against his back. “It’s okay, Ben. I’ve got you. I’m gonna give you a tow back to the dock, okay? But I need you to calm down first.”
“I caaaan’t,” the boy cried.
“He thinks he saw a snake after we flipped the boat,” Sam said.
Oh, fuck. Snakes were great as tattoos and jewelry. In real life, not so much. Jess schooled her expression and forced a smile. “Even if you did, he’s long gone by now. All the noise we’re making would totally scare him away.” Hopefully. Please, God.
Ben’s crying turned into a breathy whimper. “Weally?”
“Really,” Jess said. “And if you could stop crying, I bet it would make the lady on the dock feel a lot better. She’s really worried, and now that I’m here, there’s nothing to worry about. Right?”
“G’amma’s worried?” Ben asked, his breath hitching as he looked over her shoulder.
“She is, but it’s all okay now. Right?” Jess continued to rub circles against the boy’s back and, slowly but surely, his breathing evened out and slowed down. Finally, he heaved a big, tired-sounding sigh. “You ready?”
“I dunno,” he said, fear plain in his voice.
“I’m gonna do all the work. All you have to do is hold on to my arm,” she said. “Can I show you how we’ll do it?” Just when she was sure Ben was going to refuse, he nodded. “Okay, great. You’re being really brave, Ben. I’m gonna turn you around and hold your back to my front. But I promise I’m not gonna let go.”
“Promise?” he said, the strain of tears returning to his voice.
“I totally promise.” Jess hooked her arm around his neck and across his chest, her hand finding a hold under his arm. She hadn’t used her teenage lifeguard training in years, but when she was younger, she used to love to swim. Of course, after her dad died, she no longer had access to his gym, and Jess had sorta let the swimming go…along with so much else. When Ben finally relaxed against her again, she shook away the thoughts and looked at Sam. “Will you be okay while I take him back?”
“I can swim back myself,” Sam said.
“Are you sure?”
He looked toward the shore, the doubt clear in his eyes.
“I’ll come right back for you, Sam. You were holding Ben up all this time, so you’ve got to be tired.” Jess ignored her own growing exhaustion. Suck it up, buttercup.
“O-okay,” Sam finally said. “I’ll wait.”
“Good man. All right, Ben. Here we go, nice and easy, okay?” She lay back in the water, using her free arm and her legs to propel them shoreward. It was slow going, to be sure. Jess’s lungs burned and her shoulder muscles felt like Jell-O. Ben whimpered and sniffled and occasionally lifted his head to see how far they’d gone, but Jess was impressed by how he’d managed to calm himself down. He really was a brave kid. They both were.
When Jess had nearly reached the dock, the low whirr of an engine reached her through the sounds of her own splashing and heavy breathing, but she couldn’t divert even a moment’s worth of energy away from getting Ben to safety. As it was, she was already starting to worry about how she’d get Sam in, too. But one thing at a time.
The aluminum of the ladder against her palm felt like the biggest victory ever. “Here we go, Ben,” she said.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Ben’s grandmother extended a hand down to the little boy.
“Don’t worry, G’amma,” he said, clutching the metal and hauling himself up.
The woman laughed and hugged the boy into her arms, getting herself soaked in the process. It didn’t look like she minded one bit.
“Okay,” Jess said, clutching the ladder with cold fingers. “I’ll go get Sam now.” Heaving a deep breath, she pushed off the dock.
“Wait,” the grandmother said. “That’s my husband and Doc coming.”
A few feet out, Jess treaded water, her gaze scanning for the incoming boat. Sure enough, a small motorboat was making its way toward the overturned rowboat. The older woman yelled and gestured, and Sam swam around the end and waved until one of the men waved back.
Jess looked up at the other woman. “I’ll still go out if you think I should.”
“No, hon. You’ve done enough. Come on out of there now.”
With a glance back at Sam, Jess returned to the dock. Climbing the ladder took way more effort than it probably should’ve, but she forced herself up and out of the water until she was finally standing. A puddle of water formed all around her bare, ice-cold feet.
As they stood watching, the motorboat pulled up along Sam. One of the men hauled him out of the water and wrapped him in a towel, and then it took both of the men to right the rowboat. They slid it alongside them and slowly towed it back to shore.
The older woman put her arm around Jess’s shoulders and hugged her in. “I can’t thank you enough. I’m Bernie, by the way, but everyone calls me Bunny.”
“You’re welcome, Bunny. I’m Jess,” she answered, and then she mentally kicked herself for revealing her real name. Maybe it didn’t matter, or maybe it did. Either way, that was the exact moment it occurred to Jess that she’d pretty much broken every one of Ike’s rules in about a fifteen-minute time span.
Oh, shit.
Chapter 4
Ike unlocked the front door then scooped up the bags of groceries he’d dropped at his feet. Hands full, he made his way inside and headed straight for the kitchen.
“Yo, Jess. I’m back,” he called, settling the bags on the counter. He inhaled to call her name again when he noticed something that shot ice through his veins—the back door stood open. “Fuck!” He darted out the door and onto the small back porch, but the yard was empty. “Jess!” he shouted. “Jessica!”
Sonofafuck.
Ike didn’t know whether to be terrified that something had happened to her or angry that she’d left the house, and the combination of both emotions flowing through him was like a noxious, dangerous cocktail that had taken him from sober to fucked up in two point five seconds.
He tore back into the house and hauled ass up the loft stairs—just to be sure. Empty. As was the rest of the house. On the back porch again, his brain raced as his eyes scanned. The only thing back there was the trail to the lake.
The low growl of a motorboat’s engine sounded in the distance. And though it was probably a ridiculous reaction, dread settled over Ike like a second skin, but he was too used to worst-case scenarios actually coming true.
His feet were in motion before he’d made the conscious decision to move. Partway down the trail, the surface smoothed out to mostly dirt, and that was when Ike noticed the shoe prints. He slowed to a walk. Just one set. Small foot size. Which meant… He was gonna kill her. He really fucking was. Right after he pulled her into his arms and made sure she was okay.
Ike ran the rest of the way into the clearing, his gaze quickly settling on a grouping of people down at the Aldersons’ old dock. And there, in the middle of the group, was a very petite woman with black hair wearing all black.
That was his girl.
Well, not his.
Whatthefuckever.
He took off in the direction of the dock. Before he even got there, he made out the identity of the others—Doc, Rodeo, Bunny, Sam, and Ben—all members of the Ravens’ family in one way or another. Ike’s brain scrambled for a rational explanation for the scene in front of him, but he was too fucking angry and worried and worked the hell up. Rational might as well have been a foreign country.
“Hey, Ike,” Doc called, giving a wave from where he stood at the end of the pier. Tall and wiry, Frank “Doc” Kenyon had shoulder-length white-gray hair on his head and his face. He was the club president’s grandfather and half-owner of the compound that included the Ravens’ clubhouse and the racetra
ck. Dare Kenyon, the club prez and Ike’s good friend, owned the other half and would inherit everything when Doc decided he was done with this world and everyone in it. Some days, that seemed like it might happen sooner rather than later because the old man’s hip and knee replacement a few years back gave him all kinds of difficulties and—worst of all—kept him from riding much anymore. Ike was pretty sure he’d want to go before reaching that day, so he couldn’t really blame the guy.
Ike slowed to a walk as his boots hit the wooden planks. He held his hand toward Doc’s but his eyes were all for Jess…who was soaking wet. What in the ever-living hell? “Doc,” he said, giving the older man a quick handshake. He moved past Doc just as quick. “Hey, Ike, wait…”
But the roar between Ike’s ears was too loud for listening. He marched right into the group of people crowded around the end of the dock and bore down on Jess. Clipped, angry words spilled out of him. “You want to tell me why you’re down here? You know, given the motherfu—” He swallowed the curse word when he noticed Ben’s wide eyes staring up at him. “Given the situation and our conversation earlier?”
The sum total of Jess’s initial reaction was a single eyebrow lifting into an arch. Just the left one. The movement made him take in the droplets of water trailing down her face from her wavy, wet hair, the smudges of mascara below her lashes, and the shiver of her lower lip. Finally, she said, “I had a good reason.”
“Jessica—”
“Ike, honey,” Bunny said, smiling. Despite being in her sixties, Doc’s sister still had her looks—and plenty of sass. “Your Jessica was a total heroine just now. So slow your roll before you say something you regret. Besides, Dare called earlier to let us know you were bringing someone up here for protection. So don’t worry. Jess didn’t spill any beans.”
Amusement spilled into Jess’s brown eyes, and then she chuckled. “Bunny, I think you might be one of my favorite people, like, ever.”