by Rivi Jacks
I hiccup again. “I’m cold, let’s go in.” After Diane lets Jake know where we’re going, we move toward the house. I scan the deck but don’t see Lucas. We head to the kitchen to the beat of the Legendary Shack Shakers. Someone has a pot of coffee made, no doubt for drunks such as yours truly.
“I need a cup of coffee,” I state, getting a cup from the cupboard.
“You okay?” Diane asks. “I have to visit the bathroom.”
“I’m fine.” I smile, stirring cream into my cup. I sense when Lucas enters the kitchen, but I don’t turn around. I face the counter, sipping my coffee. When I can’t stand the silence any longer, I face him. He’s standing closer than I realize, and I have to look up to meet his silvered gaze.
“What happened the other night?” I surprise myself since I hadn’t planned to ask that particular question.
Staring into my eyes, he makes a low sound of amusement. “Happened?” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear as he had on the deck. I reach up and pull it free. A sensual smile curves his lips. “You are so exasperating,” he murmurs. “What am I going to do with you?”
My stomach muscles tighten in response. What does he mean do with me? I swallow, pulling his gaze to my throat. “The night I was knocked unconscious.” There’s a slight trembling in my voice.
He arches one of his finely shaped black brows, but his eyes remain on my throat.
“Did you... I mean... when I...” This is harder than I imagined, and him staring at my neck doesn’t help. A flush moves over my whole body. “When you carried me to your room, did you...”
His eyes slice to mine, his face devoid of any expression, and I grow uncomfortable under his stare. He cocks his head slightly. “Are you suggesting,” he asks dryly, “that I touched you—inappropriately?”
My voice comes out in a parched whisper. “Did you?” I’m sure that I am not imagining the anger I see in his eyes. I tear my gaze from his and stare at his clenched jaw, where a muscle jerks.
“Sofie,” he says in an ominously quiet voice, “you’re accusing me of sexual assault.”
“What?” My gaze flies back to his. “No! I...” My face is hot as fire.
“If a man touches an unconscious woman in a sexual manner, what would you call it?” he asks, his voice hard.
I can’t keep eye contact any longer. I’m embarrassed and, underneath it all, ashamed that I’ve accused him of something that ugly.
He tilts my chin up. “Look at me,” he demands. I slowly bring my gaze to his, seeing that his has softened. “I would never take from you that which I want you to give to me willingly.” His voice has returned to its deep velvet timbre.
It takes a moment for his words to sink in. When they do, I narrow my eyes at him, but I try to suppress my anger. “First, I apologize for... what I accused you of.” I take a deep breath. “Second, I will never give it to you!”
To my amazement, he grins and leans in. I step back, coming up against the counter behind me. He slides my coffee cup back and grips my waist. Before I can react, he lifts me and settles me on the countertop. He grasps my chin.
“Look at me,” he demands. His abruptness startles me into meeting his gaze. I can’t breathe. I’ve never experienced anything close to this. His eyes pull me in as if to absorb me. It reminds me of one of the old Hitchcock movies where the actor falls into the spiral, spinning round and round. I frown, wondering what’s happening and I look away, a little dizzy from whatever he seems to be doing.
He exhales with a sharp laugh, drawing my gaze again. I see surprise on his face, followed by satisfaction. Then he grins. “Sofia Reece—you are full of surprises,” he exclaims, repeating my words from earlier. However, his words hold a trace of true surprise.
I push him back a little (mostly because he lets me) and hop down from the counter. “Leave me alone. Stop staring at me and stop… sniffing me!”
He flashes a wide, knee-knocking grin, and leans toward me, inhaling deeply. Before I can move away, he taunts, “But you smell so sweet.” I snort softly, pushing past him. “I bet you taste sweet too.” His voice holds a wicked undertone. When I glance back, he has the smile to go with it.
He grabs my arm, pulling me back, and brings my hand to his face. I gasp as he kisses the inside of my wrist. His mouth is so hot on my tender skin that I moan. I lean into him slightly until he bites, sucking hard at the same time.
“Ow!” I jerk my hand away. He didn’t bite hard enough to break the skin, but he’s left teeth prints. I glance at him in disbelief. “Did you bite me?” A stupid question since there are teeth prints in my skin. I cover my wrist with my other hand.
Lucas leans in close and clasps my arm so I can’t pull away. “When I bite you, my sweet,” his breath blows across my face, causing me to sway, “you won’t have to ask.” His voice is low, seductive. His gaze moves insolently over me. Releasing my arm, he saunters from the room.
I lean against the counter. What the hell just went on here? Shaking my head to clear it, I pour my cold coffee down the drain and rinse the cup. My hands are shaking. A couple steps into the kitchen, and I exchange pleasantries with them before I search for Diane, finding her coming out of the downstairs bathroom. The long line explains why she hadn’t returned to the kitchen.
“Oh my gosh! I didn’t think I’d make it,” she exclaims.
“It’s a great party. Let’s go find Emma Rae,” I suggest. It is a fantastic party, but I’m not sure I can survive any more drama. I watch for Lucas as we pass through the hordes of people.
We find Andy talking to a guy I think might be another of Lucas’ men. Andy introduces him as Fisher. I can’t help but notice his attentive regard of me. Andy and Fisher walk with us out to the fire pit, where we find Emma Rae with Sam.
“I lost you!” she says, wrapping her arms around Andy. He laughs, hugging her. I catch Fisher’s smile.
“Hey, Sawyer’s looking for you,” Sam tells me. With a gleam in his eye, he adds, “So’s Gary.”
“Well, I hope you told Gary not to bother.”
“Sure did,” he laughs.
Emma Rae suggests we go in for another Jell-O shot. I don’t think she needs any more from the way her speech is slurred, but Andy is evidently willing to take care of her. He tells her he’ll take advantage if she gets any drunker. Emma Rae looks at him coyly. “Please.” He laughs and says he’s talking about tickling her. I knew I liked him.
Emma Rae and Andy head inside and I tell Diane I’m staying with Sam until Sawyer finds me. Diane decides to look for Jake, and after Sam tells her the general area to go, Sam and I are alone.
“So—” I begin, wanting to ease into my questioning.
“She said she has the flu,” he announces, knowing me well.
“Okay then... she has the flu.” He says nothing more. “You think she doesn’t?”
He gazes at the fire. “I think she’s seeing someone else.”
I look at him with no little surprise. Sam, always quieter than Sawyer—not as much flash—has never lacked for female companionship. Sawyer loves all the girls, but Sam is picky. His selectiveness seems just as alluring to women as Sawyer’s love-em-all attitude. I know I’m prejudiced, but I can’t imagine Rose interested in someone else.
I shake my head. “I would honestly be shocked if she’s stepping out on you. I know for a fact she’s crazy about you.”
He continues staring into the fire. I don’t want to push, so I say nothing else and neither does he. I brush a twig off his coat and I notice faint teeth marks still on my wrist. I quickly tuck my arm behind me.
Sam utters, “Uh-oh, Gary Fenton’s headed this way.”
“Oh shoot!” Looking for an escape route, I see my savior coming across the yard toward us. “Sawyer!” I wave my arm and Gary veers away. Sam chuckles under his breath.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you two!” Sawyer announces, clearly excited.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Silas Lee called. You know, t
he old guy out toward Grove Springs?”
Sam says, “The one you hunt and trade dogs with?”
“Yep. Sofe, I don’t know if you’ve ever gone out there with me or not.”
“Is he the one who lives way out in the sticks?”
“They all live way out in the sticks,” Sam jokes.
“Yeah. Anyway, he’s...” Sawyer pauses as a couple strolls by. He keeps his voice low, careful no one overhears us. “He was all excited and saying he shot a monster.”
“What?” Sam and I exclaim.
“You guys want to ride out there with me?”
We surely do. We say our good-byes to Eli and Dawn and make our excuses to Jake and Diane. We don’t lie to Jake; we just don’t tell him everything. While telling Emma Rae goodnight, I casually look for Lucas.
“He left earlier,” Andy tells me, his voice low.
I won’t insult him by acting as if I don’t know who he’s talking about. I nod my thanks.
Sawyer, Sam, and I head out to Silas Lee’s place at half past midnight. Sam drives since he’s had little to drink. Although I must say, I’ve never seen Sawyer unable to drive; actually, I’ve never seen him drunk. He has a reputation for that.
Silas Lee indeed lives way out in the sticks. We turn off the state highway about fourteen miles from Sweetwater onto a dirt road that gets rougher and narrower the farther we drive.
“Damn, this road is as rough as a cob.” Sam keeps a tight grip on the steering wheel. If it weren’t for the seatbelt, I’d probably be bouncing around on the floorboard. About the time I think it will never end, Sam slows at the first mailbox I’ve seen on the road and turns down a driveway with a gully running through the middle. Thank goodness, the house isn’t too far.
Sam stops the Jeep in front of an old clapboard farmhouse. We find flashlights, and Sawyer leads us to a rundown outbuilding where an old man stands waiting.
“Silas,” Sawyer says. The old man nods and spits a stream of tobacco juice across the barnyard.
We enter the building that at one time, may have stored hay, but now sheltered mostly junk.
A single light illuminates the interior just enough for us to see a body—hanging from the rafters.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The three of us look at the gently swaying body.
“A Kihn,” Sawyer states.
“A female,” I say softly, evident since she’s naked.
She’s been gutted, and although I tell myself not to, I look at the ground below her. Separated from the creature’s insides is what looks to be—a fetus. I cover my mouth to stop from screaming.
“Sweet Jesus!” Sam says.
Sawyer steps closer to the hanging Kihn and looks down at the remains. “Silas, what did you do?” Sawyer looks at the old man with an expression of shock and disgust.
“I didn’t know it was female. It was dark, and it happened so fast. It was fat, and after I hung it, I jest wanted to find out if it had one of my cows in its belly.” The three of us look in horror at Silas Lee.
“Silas—you stupid son of a bitch! Oh man, this can’t be good.” Sawyer paces. He pulls his phone from his pocket. “Son of a bitch!”
I have to get out. I stagger out of the barn, fall to my hands and knees, and lose the contents of my stomach. When I stop retching, I crawl to the shed wall and lean against it, taking in great gulps of air. I tell myself I will not cry. I will not cry. I know if I start, I won’t be able to stop.
Sam comes out and tells me Sawyer has called Lucas, but his words don’t make much sense or mean anything to me. “Sofie, are you okay? You need to sit in the Jeep. It’s too cold for you out here.”
I look at him, shaking my head. He bends down and pulls my coat closer around me, buttoning the top button. He takes off his coat and lays it over my legs. If I wasn’t so upset, I would never let Sam go without his coat. Sam paces, at last sitting beside me, hugging me close. By this time, I’m shaking from the cold and shock. I’m not sure how much time passes before Lucas and Max arrive. I’m vaguely aware of other members of the Guard with them.
Lucas squats in front of me. “Sofie?” He cups the side of my face with his warm hand and I look at him through teary eyes. He leaves me for a moment, then he’s back, removing Sam’s coat and handing it back to him. My arms are wrapped around my middle, trying to stop my shaking.
Lucas picks me up, and I lay my head against his shoulder. He carries me back the way I walked earlier with my cousins. He sets me gently in the front seat of his Hummer and buckles my seat belt, looking into my face with concern. He goes to the back and returns with a blanket that he tucks around me. I barely notice when he gets in beside me and starts the car.
As we head down the driveway, he cranks the heater. I close my eyes, but I still feel him looking at me every so often. I don’t know how long we drive, but at last the Hummer slows. I open my eyes and sit a little straighter as he turns into his driveway. The guard has already come out of the guardhouse, and the gates are open.
Lucas drives the Hummer up the hill and parks in front of his house. He gathers me in his arms and carries me inside, straight to his bedroom. Placing me on the edge of the bed, he removes my boots, then my coat. The room is warm, and I just want to sleep. Lucas apparently has other ideas. He carries me to the bathroom, gives me just enough time, and he comes in to peel off my cardigan.
“Take off your clothes and put this on.” He hands me a white T-shirt. I look down at it. “Sofie, take off your clothes—or I will.”
I unbutton my jeans as he steps out to let me change. Leaving my bra and panties on I slip the T-shirt over my head. It’s large on me, hanging to the middle of my thighs. When I open the door, he’s waiting. He hesitates before scooping me up, and carries me to his bed. Gently laying me in the middle, he pulls the covers up around me. I close my eyes and listen to him move about the room. He’s soon back, pulling the covers aside and helping me sit up. He holds a glass to my lips.
“Drink,” he commands softly.
I do. I drink it all. It’s chilled, tastes like ginger ale, and makes me feel better. It settles my stomach as it wets my parched throat. I snuggle under the covers, curled on my side facing the wall. Lucas turns off the bedside lamp before lying down on top of the covers beside me. He lies against my back with his arm across my waist. His hand rests against my stomach as he tucks my head under his chin.
“Sleep,” he orders.
My head has cleared somewhat, but I feel numb. The only light comes from the fireplace, and I watch shadows dance across the wall. Without warning, I shudder. I can’t hold back the vision of that poor creature with her bloody baby lying in the dirt beneath her feet. I guess having compassion, even for a monster, is a human quality. I cry with hard, racking sobs.
“Shhh,” Lucas soothes. Sliding his arm under my shoulders, he pulls me closer to his body. His free hand caresses my hair as he holds me, gently smoothing his hand over my forehead. I’m warm, safe, and I eventually fall asleep.
I wake a couple of times during the night, and each time he’s still holding me. At one point, I roll over, and he pulls me closer as I snuggle against him. I place my nose in the hollow at the base of his throat as I’ve yearned to do since practically the first time I saw him. I breathe in his heady scent. He smells wonderful. He rubs my back, soothing me until I return to sleep.
I wake slowly, stretching, relishing the bed’s warmth and comfort. My eyes fly open when memories register and I remember where I am and in whose bed I am lying. Rolling abruptly, I tangle in the covers and end up sitting on the floor.
Oh no! This can’t be! I get to my feet and hurry into the bathroom, closing and locking the door. I lean against the door and bang the back of my head a time or two.
Oh. My. Gosh!
When I see myself in the mirror, in his thin, white T-shirt, my breasts revealingly outlined in my sheer bra, my face turns beet red. I moan, covering my face. I have to get out of here! Preferably before I come face to fac
e with Lucas.
Someone has placed my clothes, clean and folded, on the bathroom counter. I dress in a flash, wondering where Lucas is, and know that if I can sneak away, I can walk to Diane’s. I walk into the bedroom slowly, making sure I’m still alone.
My boots are missing. I look in his closet, which is practically as large as my bedroom at home. I check around the room, but no boots. The house is quiet as I slip from one room to the next. When I enter the kitchen, Max stands up from the table. Okay. Just slinking away won’t be possible.
“Good morning, Miss Sofie. Coffee?” Max offers.
“Um...” I do need coffee. “Please.” My face colors.
“Croissant?” He asks casually.
No doubt he’s used to women spending the night with Lucas. That idea strangely bothers me.
“No, thank you. Coffee’s fine.” With inspiration, I ask, “Do you have a go cup?”
“Sorry, no.” He smiles and sets a mug of coffee and a cream pitcher on the counter. I wonder again where Lucas might be. And my boots. “Lucas is with some of his men at the Silas Lee farm.” Max steps out to the sunroom and comes back with my cleaned boots. “They are building a new barn.” At my obvious surprise, Max continues. “We burned the old building last night. The Kihn would have smelled…” He leaves his sentence unfinished, and I feel a pang remembering that poor creature.
I step into my boots and sit on one of the high-backed stools. “Why would he do that?” I know I sound puzzled.
Max stares at me steadily for a few moments. I sit up a little straighter. He finally says, “Lucas gave the order to burn the… evidence. He would never do such a thing, and not be willing to replace what he has taken.”
I take another sip of coffee. So Lucas had the building burned to protect Silas, and he’s now building the old man a barn. It’s the decent thing to do, but Lucas doesn’t owe any of us anything. When the back door opens, I stand at once. Oh, man! Why am I not already gone? I do not want to face him.
Lucas and Sawyer come in, with Sawyer laughing about something. Lucas scans the room and his gaze sweeps over me. He brings his eyes back to mine, cautiously appraising what he sees there. I realize he’s unsure of my response to him bringing me here. Seeing this, all I can think of is the way he comforted and cared for me through the night, keeping me safe and warm.