Paths (Killers #2)

by Brynne Asher

  I grab her hand and ask, “You feel better now that you saw him?”

  “Yes,” she says, relieved. “He makes it sound as if having episodes isn’t a big deal, but after watching him go through many, it’s a huge deal and very dangerous. What he didn’t tell us, but I know from all the years he’s dealt with this, is if the meds don’t work, it could require surgery. I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “I hope not, too.” We make our way back to the monster tree and I ask, “Since there’s no bowling alley, what do you want to do before the big event? We’ve got two hours.”

  She pulls in a big breath. “I could use a run. Do you mind?”

  I put my hand to the back of her head and pull her to me for a kiss. “I followed you all the way to Buffalo. You think I won’t go a few more miles?”

  “Good.” She smiles. “I definitely need to work out my nervous energy.”

  We head to the front door so we can get our bags.

  “You know, there’re other ways to release your nervous energy.” I look back at her and she smirks at me.

  I can’t wait for the day I can help work her nerves out in other ways.

  *****

  Maya –

  My fucking mother.

  She’s such a bitch.

  Gah.

  I need to settle down. If I don’t, I’m going to end up with an angry makeup application and that would be scary.

  Grady and I ran six miles, but this wasn’t a race. This was me running and Grady keeping pace with me but two strides back. I think it was his way to be close but give me my space, and I needed it.

  I’d say Grady is perfect, but he’s not. Ever since I threw myself at him in front of Weston, he’s done exactly what I needed, even when I didn’t know I needed it. He’s protected me, he’s stood by my side, and he’s never wavered. In that way, he’s more perfect than I deserve.

  But he’s not proper, he’s not formal, and he makes inappropriate comments all the time. He makes bets that, no matter the outcome, I end up cooking for him and he gets his way. And he relentlessly teases me. These are not perfect qualities.

  Or so I’ve been taught.

  But Grady’s not perfect qualities are what makes me want him even more as our hours and days together add up. Having him meet Joe probably seemed like a non-event for everyone else, but not for me. I couldn’t wait for the most important person to me to meet the new man in my life, whose imperfect qualities make me weak.

  Even though running usually helps when I’m tense, it didn’t help today. I’m more wound than I’ve been in a long time. I lean over the vanity toward the mirror to apply my mascara, and I see Grady standing in the doorway behind me.

  I sound funny since I can only apply mascara with my mouth open. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.”

  Freshly showered, Grady’s wearing suit pants in a gray so dark, they’re almost charcoal. His dress shirt is pressed to perfection, making me wonder how it traveled so well, but only for a second. Because all I see are his eyes, brighter than normal because of the deep blue of his shirt.

  But his eyes don’t meet mine. They’re traveling my body, and if I’m correct, right now they’re on my ass.

  Maybe I should’ve picked a more modest dress, but I’m attending a dinner in the house I grew up in with a new man. A man whom, at this point, I’m itching to impress. Not that he’s made me feel like I have to, but I want to.

  It seems to have worked. I think he likes my dress.

  And this does nothing to help my frazzled nerves.

  Without taking his eyes off my back, he approaches until I feel his hands low on my hips. I finally get his eyes when they meet mine in the mirror.

  “Beautiful.” His voice is lower than usual, even a bit rough. When the word beautiful passes his full lips, I feel his hands tense on me.

  “You clean up well, too, Grady Cain,” I say and bite my lip, twisting my mascara shut and tossing it to the counter.

  His hands start to move on my navy dress, a blue so dark, it resembles the color of the ocean at night. It’s stretchy and fits like a glove from my thighs to my collar bone, but only on one side. My left arm and shoulder are bare, the dress dipping under my arm, but my right has a full sleeve that flares just above my wrist.

  I haven’t slipped on my shoes yet, so I feel smaller in front of Grady, his large frame surrounding me from behind.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, as his hand comes up and sweeps my hair over my shoulder, putting his lips at the base of my neck.

  I can’t help but close my eyes. “I don’t think the run helped. I’m wound up. I still can’t believe my mother put me in this position when she knows I want nothing to do with him.”

  “You need to calm,” he murmurs against my neck, his lips working their way up to my ear. His hands start to roam, traveling my body.

  “Grady,” I breathe and lean my head back on his shoulder. “This isn’t helping my nerves.”

  His left hand comes up to cup my breast, and I lose his lips on my neck, so I look up into the mirror. There, his blue eyes are heated—on fire.

  “No baby,” his voice is soft and smooth this time. “You need to calm.”

  His hand drops to the hem of my dress and pulls it up around my waist. Not wasting any time, he reaches and dips his hand inside the front of my panties. There he is—roaming, touching. And just like last night, it makes me melt, and is better than any dream. I give him all my weight, and the second I do, his arm tightens around me. It’s a good thing too, I otherwise might’ve fallen to the ground.

  “Grady, we’re going to be late for dinner,” I breathe.

  “We’ve got time.” His fingers work me lightly and I feel myself become instantly wet. “Look at me.”

  I open my heavy lids and look at us in the mirror. Me, my dress hitched around my waist, with Grady wrapped around me, his big hand dipped in my panties.

  “When I said this isn’t new, I meant it. Since the day I got back after I was captured, I’ve been watching you over the surveillance system.”

  His fingers move slowly, roaming and exploring, almost like he’s trying to memorize me. But I don’t understand what he said. “What?”

  “I wasn’t just fucked-up, baby, I was fucked up. Watching you come and go, run, sit outside and stare into the woods—it kept me from losing my mind. I didn’t even know you, but I was obsessed with you even then.” His words come at me softly, and learning that he was watching me should freak me out, but for some reason it doesn’t. “You didn’t even know it, but you saved me from some fucked-up demons. I didn’t want to be anywhere, talk to anyone, but when I watched you, I settled.”

  His eyes, burning into mine, are open and honest, and even as he works me into a state of sexual frenzy, I ask, “What are you saying?”

  He circles my clit harder and slips a finger inside me, making my breath catch.

  “I’m saying we’re not new. You might not have known it, but I’ve been with you for months. I’m saying,” he adds more pressure, creating an ache between my legs, “that you took care of me all that time and you didn’t even know it. That made me want you even then, before I was in a place where I could make you mine. I’ve wanted you since the beginning, baby, before you even knew there was a beginning.”

  I barely shake my head—stunned, turned on, and kind of freaked out, but all in a good way.

  “Let me take care of you.” He puts more pressure on my clit and starts to finger fuck me. “Whatever happens tonight, if anyone upsets you, you let me handle it.”

  I say nothing, but turn my face into his neck.
I’m breathing so hard, I can’t respond.

  His words keep coming. “I’ll handle your mom, that asshole, and whoever else decides to jump in the ring. No one’s gonna fuck with you, not with me standing in the way.”

  He adds a second finger, and oh, it feels good.

  “Maya?” he calls. When I open my eyes, he’s looking into mine. Just before he puts more pressure on my clit, he asks, “You gonna let me take care of you tonight?”

  I nod, unable to talk.

  Then I gasp, moan, and my body shudders in delicious shakes. The whole time, Grady holds me tight and milks my orgasm to a point where I feel so weak, I’m certain he’s the only thing holding me up.

  “Fuck,” I hear him mutter and I lose his hand from between my legs.

  The next thing I know, I’m turned around and he’s circled me in his strong arms, his mouth landing on mine. Kissing me deep with his hand tight in my hair, I have a feeling he’s showing me exactly how he’s going to take care of me. If it’s anything like this, there’s no way I can argue.

  When he finally loosens his hold in my hair, his kiss turns soft, his lips barely brushing mine. He looks down at me, his gaze meaningful and sweet when he asks, “You better?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “Did I freak you out?” he asks, his brows puckered, honestly concerned about what I’m thinking.

  “Yes.” His frown deepens and even though I’m still catching my breath, I quickly add, “But not in a bad way. In a surprised and sort-of-pleased way that I could do something for you when you needed it. Even though I didn’t do anything.”

  “You did.” He kisses me again softly before changing the subject. “You ready?”

  “I think I’m going to need to touch up my hair and makeup.”

  His eyes move over my face in a way I know he doesn’t want to go to dinner, and he pulls me tight with one arm but the other goes slack. When his hand comes around, he smirks as he puts his index and middle fingers in his mouth. I feel my eyes go big as he tastes me, sucking his fingers clean.

  When he slides them out of his mouth, he licks his lips and leans down to kiss me quick before letting me go. “Hurry up, baby. I’m hungry.”

  He gives me one more devilish grin before leaving me in the bathroom. When I finally turn to the mirror, I smooth my dress and groan at my hair. My makeup fared well, but I cannot go to a dinner in my mother’s house with my ex in attendance wearing sexed up hair.

  But, I think I like the way I look being sexed-up by Grady, and we haven’t even had sex yet. I run my fingers through my loose, chunky curls turned away from my face, trying to piece them back together. Since I wore the dress for Grady, I’m thinking my half-sexed hair fits it well.

  Although he might’ve relaxed me for a short time, it makes me ache to think about what he said. I don’t know much about what he went through when he was injured, but I do remember his anguished eyes and desolate demeanor during the weeks while I was a creeper. To know he found some sort of comfort in me during that time? That makes me feel funny, and not in a bad way.

  I reach for my lipstick as my stomach twists and turns. Between learning that Grady considered me his lifeline before I even knew him, having dinner with Weston and his parents, and dealing with my mother, the night seems impossibly long. Grady did say he’d handle tonight, after all.

  Knowing all the possible scenarios, I might just let him.

  Chapter 19 – I’m Attached

  Maya –

  As we round the pool from the guest house through a path of cleared snow in the cold December air, I’m not sure what’s louder—the sounds of my heels on the stone patio or my heart pounding in my chest.

  “Relax,” Grady says, squeezing my hand as we approach the French doors to the back of my parents’ house.

  “Stop telling me to relax,” I clip. “The more you tell me to relax, the more I can’t relax.”

  “Okay,” I hear him say with a smile as we walk up the steps. He moves ahead quickly to open the door for me. “So don’t relax. We’ll get through the night either way.”

  I turn to look at him, rolling my eyes, before stepping inside the formal living area. Grady trying to relax me in the bathroom made us late, and my mother doesn’t do late unless it’s her. She’s always late to social events—she thinks she’s just that important.

  “Well.” I hear her voice the minute we step over the threshold. “We thought you decided not to attend your own homecoming dinner.”

  I do what I trained myself to do years ago—change my expression to an impassive one since I know it pisses her off. “We went for a run. And I didn’t know this was a homecoming dinner. We’re leaving tomorrow, so for all it matters, it could be a going away dinner.”

  My mother narrows her eyes before turning to a server I’m not familiar with who must be new. “Lidia, make my daughter a cosmopolitan and take his order.”

  Of course, she wouldn’t ask what I’d like to drink, but arguing would be exhausting, so I don’t.

  “Maya.” I cringe and turn to see Weston heading straight for us with a crystal highball glass in his hand filled with his favorite scotch, but his eyes—angry and hard—are on Grady. Grady’s fingers tense on the small of my back, but other than that, I don’t notice a change in his demeanor whatsoever. Across the room, Weston’s parents are standing with Joe, all of them watching us with bated breath. My father is nowhere to be seen—I’m sure he’s still at work.

  “Wes,” Grady greets my ex-fiancé like they’ve been friends for years before I have a chance to say anything. Without letting me go, Grady offers his right hand. “Never thought I’d see you again after our last meeting.”

  Weston doesn’t take his hand, and I slip my arm inside Grady’s suit jacket to give him a squeeze. He knows about Weston’s shady side, there’s no reason to antagonize him. We need to get through dinner with as little drama as possible. It’s the only way to handle Weston.

  Weston glares at Grady right before his eyes move, and I shift my weight at the way his eyes rake over me. I wonder how I ever found him attractive. Now, he just looks like the slimeball he is.

  “You look beautiful,” he says, and pins me with an intense look. “We need to talk.”

  I tip my head and sigh. “I didn’t want to talk to you when you came all the way to Virginia. I’m only here to see Joe, so don’t ruin my visit. I have nothing more to say to you.”

  He leans in closer and lowers his voice. “I get it. I made a mistake and hurt you. But it’s over. It’s time to fix this—you know we are meant to be together. Give me five minutes alone to explain.”

  I lower my voice for only him to hear. “Explain how you were fucking someone else while you were engaged to me?”

  “Ma’am, your cosmopolitan.” A drink appears in front of me and I look over to see the server speaking to Grady. “Can I get you something from the bar?”

  “I made a mistake,” Weston goes on, ignoring our server.

  “Beer,” Grady answers. “Anything’s fine.”

  When the server steps away, I take a sip of my drink, but I can’t help if I sound a little sarcastic when I say, “You should move on. You didn’t have trouble doing that while we were together—it should be easy now.” I’ve been so worried about dinner all afternoon, I’m not quite sure where my sudden boldness is coming from, but I even swing my hand out while holding my glass, yet don’t spill a drop as I continue. “Just think, no hiding, no sneaking, you won’t have to juggle two phones, because Lord knows that was difficult, wasn’t it?”

  “Enough,” Weston clips and takes my drink out of my hand, setting it on an end table. He didn’t even use a coaster—my mo
ther’s sixth sense will eagle-eye that in no time. He has the nerve to grab my free arm. “I don’t know when you started acting like this, but it probably has something to do with him.” Weston jerks his head toward Grady.

  Until now, Grady has remained a calm bystander, allowing my new-found assertiveness to do its thing. But the moment Weston laid a hand on me, that changed.

  His body gets tight, his arm around my waist becomes a force of nature as he pulls me to him and out of Weston’s hold. “Keep your hands off her.”

  Weston looks straight at Grady and seethes, “She’ll never be yours.”

  “We’ll see. That’s up to Maya—but it looks like you need to get it through your thick skull she’ll never be yours.”

  Weston’s about to argue further, when I hear his mother say smoothly, “Weston, this isn’t the time or place. Please allow me to welcome Maya properly.”

  I’ve always liked Nancy. Even though she’s best friends with my mother, she’s always been genuine, like a real mom who wants the best for her kids, but to get that, her kids don’t have to be the best, like I did.

  So when she pulls me into her arms for a warm hug, I let her. “You look lovely, dear. It’s good to have you home.”

  “Thank you, and it’s good to see you, too, but we’re leaving tomorrow. I have to get back to work and only came to see Joe.”

  “Maya,” Ron MacLachlan greets me, standing beside his wife. He tips his head, but his expression is bland, and that makes me nervous. He raises a brow and says pointedly, “I do hope you’ll rethink your decision and come home for good.”

  Nancy grabs my hand and gives me a squeeze. “Please rethink this, Maya. Come home … give things a chance to mend.”

  I shake my head and smile, because as much as Weston’s father scares me, I know Nancy loves her son and wants everything for him. But it’s not my fault he turned out to be a lying, cheating, murdering asshole—and I don’t think it’s hers, either. Her husband, on the other hand, I do blame.