Moaning under her breath, she jerked away from Blake and rolled off the bed, crouching beside it and rocking herself. Under her breath, she whimpered, unaware that she was whimpering and talking out loud. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.
At first, Blake hadn’t understood what had happened. Drowsy, slipping closer and closer into true sleep, he had murmured to Del under his breath, stroking the soft silk of her hair and then—just like that, she was gone. Disoriented, he had pushed up onto his elbow just in time to see her disappear over the edge of the bed.
He couldn’t see her, but the raw torment in her voice was like a knife in his heart, slowly twisting and destroying something inside him.
Damn you, Sanders, he thought, enraged. He climbed off the bed, but instead of going straight to Del, he paused long enough to pull something on. He couldn’t find his pants so he settled on the black boxer briefs he’d worn earlier and hoped that would be enough for now.
Slowly, he went to her, feeling a little like he was approaching a wild animal—but this wasn’t some unknown, abused puppy. This was Del—and that made it so much worse. It was Del, her eyes dark, glassy and terrified, staring sightlessly into the distance. He couldn’t imagine what she saw, some hell that he couldn’t even begin to imagine.
“Del?”
At first, she didn’t even look at him. Then, stiffly, like it hurt to move, she turned her head, her gaze tracking him blindly and he knew she still wasn’t aware of him. Keeping a good two feet between them, Blake crouched down in front of her. “Del, are you okay?”
She didn’t answer. All Del did was lower her face and hide it against her knees. Her entire body trembled. Blake wanted to pull her against him and cuddle her—knowing that she probably didn’t want him touching her, knowing she wouldn’t welcome his comforting made the crack in his heart widen. Bitter helpless anger spilled out. “God, Del. Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”
Seconds stretched out and when she finally responded, her words didn’t make sense at first. “It wasn’t what you did.” Her shoulders lifted and fell as she heaved out a harsh breath. Eventually, she lifted her gaze and when she looked at him, it was with dry, bleak eyes. “It wasn’t you, Blake.”
Shaking his head, he whispered, “I can’t believe that, Del. You were fine—” His hands closed into fists and it took a concentrated effort to make them relax. The last thing she needed from him was his anger. It wouldn’t help her. And all it did to him was burn uselessly in his gut.
Her voice was soft as she began to speak, pulling his attention back to her. “A few years ago, there was this runaway I was trying to help. He’d come from a decent home, parents both worked, took care of him and his kid sister. Then they divorced, Mom got remarried, got pregnant…he decided to take off. Took a while to convince him that he needed to try to go back home, but I managed. Promised I'd come visit every now and then.” A faint smile curled her lips. “He graduated three years ago and they invited me to this barbecue they were having for him. One of my first success stories. Anyway, when I went out there to see him, I saw his step-dad on the porch with this boy's little sister. She was eight. Had these big brown eyes and the sweetest smile. I watched them as they sat on the porch swing and laughed at a book. He picked her up and held her in a hug. It was one of the sweetest things I’d seen in a long time—and it put me back. I had to turn around and leave before they saw me. I barely made it to my car before I had a panic attack. I wasn't able to go to a silly barbecue all because I saw a guy hug his step-daughter.”
Her lids closed and she swallowed. Then she looked back at him and smiled. It was a wobbly smile and the sight of it dug new wounds into his heart. “They didn’t cause it, but seeing them together brought it on. Doesn’t make it their fault, any more than this is yours.” Heaving out a sigh, she pushed her hair back from her face and then she stopped, frowned as she stared at her loose, dark hair.
She was looking at her hair. In a far off voice, Del said, “He used to grab me by my hair. The first thing I did when I made up my mind to leave was to cut it. I didn’t do that consciously and I don’t really even remember doing it. But I remember feeling it on my shoulders, my back and hating it. So I cut it all off. Took years to get the nerve to let it grow out a little.”
The ends of her hair were just long enough to curl around her breasts. Hating the vivid pictures that her words painted, Blake tried to remember if he’d grabbed her hair. Had he? Shit. He stared at his hands, trying to remember—and failing.
“Blake.”
Tearing his eyes away from his hands, he looked up at her.
She rolled to her knees, just a few inches away. Her hands came out and closed over one of his. “You didn’t do this to me.” Restlessly, she shrugged “But it happens. I come with baggage. A lot of it.”
“I can deal with the baggage,” Blake said, his voice tight and rusty. Felt like he was trying to force broken glass through his throat, not words. “What I can’t deal with is not knowing what caused this.”
A bitter smile curled her lips. “You really want to know? You called me beautiful.”
Blake blinked. Yeah. He remembered that. He’d been drifting off, toying with her hair.
She twined her fingers with his, staring at their joined hands. “He used to call me his beautiful little whore. Said I was the perfect slut and everything he did to me, it was because that’s what I was made for.”
Blake snarled. He couldn’t stop it. Surging to his feet, he started to pace the room. Going to kill him, Blake thought decisively. Didn’t matter if he was caught or not because that sick monster just had to die.
Wide-eyed, Del watched as Blake stormed up and down the gleaming wooden floor. His eyes were practically glowing red, he was so pissed off. He kept opening and closing his hands into fists and the violent anger inside him seemed to shimmer in the air around him.
But she wasn’t afraid. It was strange. In that moment, she’d never seen a man more likely to do violence than Blake. He didn’t just looked pissed. No, he looked like he was ready to peel away flesh, crush bone and pulverize body tissue. Yet Del wasn’t afraid of him.
Now that she thought of it, though, she hadn’t really been afraid of Blake, not even once. There’d been a couple of moments of knee jerk panic, but she didn’t think she could say she it was a fear of him.
Even when he’d kissed her in the garage, it hadn't really been Blake that had set her off.
No.
That first kiss had been all of two days ago. Just two days. It was so hard to believe. It seemed like a lifetime since she’d driven back into Prescott, but it had only been three days. Technically, four. She figured it was past midnight on Sunday morning.
Fear was a part of her now and it had been for twelve years. Fear of men, in general and when she caught sight of a man that just vaguely resembled her step-father, the knee jerk reaction was painful on a visceral level.
But not with Blake.
And, despite how much William Sanders repulsed her, despite the starring role he’d had in her nightmares, she didn’t want Blake going after him.
Her skin felt cold, a little clammy as she pushed herself to her knees. Those memory flashbacks always did that.
She wanted a shower. Desperately. And she wanted Blake’s arms around her while she had that shower. “Blake.”
It took three tries before he finally heard her and by that point, he was going through the tall oak dresser in the corner of the room. Over his shoulder, their eyes met. “Don’t, Blake.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked as he stared at her. “Don’t,” she repeated. “This has already done me enough damage, and what you’re thinking could land you in the county jail.” Or the state penitentiary, but she didn’t point that out. “I don’t need to see that. We don’t need it.”
He looked away from her and she watched as he leaned against the dresser, bracing his hands against it. The muscles in his arms and back rippled. He dipped his head, staring at his feet. “I have to do
something, Del. I have to make this better somehow.”
“Blake.” She waited until he looked at her and then she held out her hand. “Take a shower with me. Hold me. That is what’s going to make this better.”
He turned around and she watched as he twisted a T-shirt around his hands, bunching the fabric together and squeezing so tight, his knuckles went white. Slowly, he shook his head. “That’s not enough.”
Del cocked a brow. “It is for me. You want to make this better for me? Or for you, Blake?” She crossed over to him and gently pulled the shirt away from him, dropping it to the floor. Then she pushed up onto her toes and pressed her lips to the rigid line of his jaw. “I don’t need some macho, possessive display of testosterone, Blake. I just need you right now.”
Chapter Eight
I just need you.
You want to make this better for me? Or for you, Blake?
In retrospect, Blake had to admire Del’s cleverness. There’d been no way he could say no to that. Even though he still wanted to feel Sanders’s neck under his hands, every time he finally decided he was going to go and kill the bastard, he’d heard Del’s voice again.
This has already done me enough damage, and what you’re thinking could land you in the county jail.
He’d made himself a promise that he wasn’t going to add damage, but he hadn’t realized how hard it was going to be, keeping that promise.
His stomach rumbled demandingly but Blake ignored it, trying to focus on the report in front of him, instead of what had happened between him and Del Saturday night, stretching out in Sunday morning. They’d taken the pontoon out and found a secluded cove where he’d tried to convince her to skinny dip with him.
He’d made love to her again and while she slept in his arms out on the lake, he’d plotted, again, some painful way he could kill Sanders and not get caught. The lake itself was a temptation. Lake Cumberland was one big-ass lake and there were lots of deep places. Someplace where a body could be put in a car and it might never be found.
Wasn’t as painful as he’d like.
And unfortunately, Blake wasn’t going to risk getting caught over it. He’d happily go to jail for the rest of his life if he could kill the bastard, but he was pretty sure Del wouldn’t be pleased.
This has already done me enough damage.
At 10:02 on Monday morning, those words were still echoing in his mind and he couldn’t, for the life of him, focus on the job. He’d been staring at the report detailing Junior’s accident for a good twenty minutes and he couldn’t have said for certain just what was on the piece of paper.
He heard a creak and glanced up to see Sam Beaumont standing in the doorway.
Blake leaned back in his chair and beckoned for Sam to come in. “I’m afraid I don’t really have anything I can tell you right now…” His voice trailed off as he took in what Sam was wearing.
For Sam, it was practically formal attire. At least it was these days. Instead of his usual, torn, tight and faded jeans, he had on a looser pair, topped with a black polo. Both were clean, both were mostly free of wrinkles and he’d secured his long hair back from his face. Blake smiled and asked, “So did you dress up just to come see me, Sam?”
“Fuck off,” Sam said affably as he dropped his long, lanky body into the rigid chair in front of Blake’s desk. In his hand he held a file. Tapping it on his leg, he stared at Blake with unreadable, brown eyes. “Heard you left your reunion with Deedee. You two hooked back up already?”
Blake figured that had been about the twentieth time he’d heard that question in some form or another. And he gave Sam the same answer. “She’s only been back here since Thursday. A little soon to tell.”
Unfazed by the vague answer, Sam said, “Heard she’d settled in Cincinnati from Manda—saw Manda at the hospital this morning. She’d gone to say hi to Dad. You got any idea if Del’s heading back home soon?”
Blake shrugged. He’d asked her that same question last night when he took her back to Manda’s. He’d wanted to take her home with him, but he didn’t want her to think he was trying to crowd her. Of course, that was exactly what Blake wanted to do, crowd her, keep her close by his side for the rest of their natural lives and never let a damn thing hurt her again. Brooding, he almost forgot that Sam was there and had just asked a question. “She took a few days off. Hanging around for a little while. Not sure how long.”
“Hmmm.” Sam looked back at the file he had in his hand. “You know…her dad was good friends with mine.” He glanced up at Blake again, and there was an odd look in his piercing eyes. Blake waited him out but all Sam said was, “I’m going to be in the office, helping out with some things while Dad’s recuperating.”
“I see. And that’s your professional attire?” Blake asked, tongue in cheek.
Sam laughed. “Yeah. This is pretty much it. Mom was almost over the moon when I told Dad I’d help him out for a while.” In a slow, almost lazy move, he shoved to his feet and reached for the door. Pausing there, he glanced back at Blake. “Delilah was supposed to set up an appointment with Dad. Don’t suppose you could tell her to call me about setting it up?”
Blake cocked a brow. “Don’t know if she’s going to be in town that long, Sam.” He’d like to think she’d be around, but Blake wasn’t counting on anything at this point.
Sam shook his head. “Not with Dad. With me. Got some business to discuss with her.”
“Business?” Blake shook his head and asked, “What kind of…” His voice trailed off as he glanced back down at the file Sam held. He couldn’t make out the name, but maybe Sam had already told him. More or less. Slowly, he nodded. “I’ll pass the message on. We’re meeting for lunch.”
“She called. Again.” Manda glanced up from the stove as Del came in, heavy-eyed, thirsty and starving. It had been midnight before she fell asleep, preoccupied with thoughts of Blake—who else? Dreams, interspersed with the odd nightmare, had tormented her for hours. Finally, sometime before dawn, she’d fallen into a more restful sleep.
At first, it took her a minute to figure out who, but the irritated look on Manda’s face clued her in. “You wishing I’d rented a hotel room yet?”
Manda snorted. “Hell, no.” A mean smile appeared on her face and she said, “Believe me, I’ll tell that bitch you’re unavailable until Doomsday and happily.”
“Don’t worry. You won’t have to do it for too long.” Del snagged a chair and pulled it out, collapsing into it so she could rest her head in her hands.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re heading back already.”
Del shook her head. “No. Actually, I should have told you before but I put in for some time off. Got a lot of time coming to me and I need a few more days anyway. But I don’t want to wear out my welcome. Blake said that Bess still boarded the room over her store out. I was going to check that out.”
“You will not.” Manda turned around and glared at Del. “You’ll damn well stay here.”
“Manda—”
Her friend’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t argue with me. Geez, we got the room and I love the company.” She made a face at the baby lying on the floor by the table. Avery was busy trying to fit her foot into her mouth and totally unaware of the adults grinning her way. “Believe me, I welcome the chance to actually talk with somebody who actually speaks back.”
“Are you sure?”
Manda rolled her eyes. “Yes. I’m sure. But if it makes you feel any better…” She wagged her eyebrows. “You can baby-sit for me tonight. I’d love a night out with my husband.”
“Baby-sit?” Del repeated, a little doubtful. Slowly, she looked back at the baby.
With an impish grin, Manda said, “Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.”
“Baby-sit?” Blake repeated. He laughed at the terrified look on Del’s face and unable to resist, he leaned in and kissed her. “Don’t look so worried. I don’t think Avery’s old enough for teeth so it’s not like she can bite you.”
She reached out
and grabbed his hand, holding onto him like she was drowning. “You’ll come by, help me out, right?”
“Sure.” Blake pinched her chin and leaned back into the booth. “I’ll even change a diaper or two.”
Del, looking doubtful, asked, “You can change diapers?”
“I’m the uncle of three, I’ll have you know. I’ve changed quite a few diapers.” And he wouldn’t admit, under threat of torture, how much it had terrified him those first few times. Instead, he gave Del an easy smile. “It’s not that hard. Promise.”
“Uh-huh.” She settled back against the booth and wrapped her arms around her middle, still looking worried. “So how is Junior?”
“Doing fine. Out of ICU and he’ll probably go home end of the week. Going to be a few more weeks recuperating at home, though.” Remembering Sam’s strange visit, he said, “By the way, you need to go see Sam Beaumont. He’s helping out for a while. Senior is on his way back from Hawaii, took until this morning to get a flight back and he only works part time as it is. Anyway, Sam wants you to come by the office. Said you were supposed to see Junior over something…?”
“Yeah.” Del propped her elbows on the table, a frown on her face. “I wasn’t even here a day when Junior started trying to get a hold of me.”
Darlene, the teenage waitress appeared to clear the table, and they fell quiet as she removed the plates.
“So what’s he need to see you about?”
Del shrugged. “Not really sure. Guess I can walk by there now.”
Stretching as he stood, Blake held out a hand. “I’ll walk you.” They left the café and headed down Main Street, hands linked. “So what time do I get to come over and make out with you while the baby sleeps?”
“No making out allowed while I’m on duty,” Del said, bumping her shoulder into his arm.
“You’re no fun. Can I at least swipe a beer from the fridge?”
From the corner of his eye, he saw the smile on her lips and he stopped walking, tugging her to a stop. Reaching up, he touched his finger to her mouth. “What’s this for?”
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