Awakening Abduction
Page 3
“So sorry to harp on the obvious, but take a step back and examine this from my perspective, will you?”
“And what exactly is your perspective, if I might ask?” he mumbled almost hesitantly.
“Seriously? You kidnap me, take me from the only home I’ve ever known, and you want to know my view on the subject?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I don’t have one, okay? So let’s start with your story.”
James flinched. What was he supposed to tell her? In some ways, he seemed to be just as in the dark as she was. He didn’t even get the impression she knew anything at all about their species, let alone the pack she belonged to.
“Look, honey—” James stiffened. Did he just call her “honey”? The word rolled off his tongue on its own accord. “Hannah. I don’t know all the details, but you were born in Seattle to Maxwell and Meredith Stone, and lived there with them until you were five. One day your mother took you and vanished without a word in the middle of the night. I don’t know what happened in the last sixteen years, but last week Maxwell called me into his office and asked me to come out here. I was shocked. He hadn’t mentioned you in years. I’d begun to think I’d simply conjured your existence up myself.” James glanced at Hannah before continuing. She was intently staring at his profile, frozen, her lips pressed firmly together. Her forehead scrunched up.
“Anyway, he had a private investigator keeping tabs on you. I don’t know for how long. Apparently it was discovered that someone else also had a lead on your location. I don’t know who it is. Suspicions arose when this man’s employees were spotted in Boston not far from your apartment. I was immediately sent to check up on you and make sure you were safe. I’ve been…watching you. Tonight your father told me it was time to go in and get you. The danger was getting too close apparently. That’s the gist of it from my end.”
“So I’m in some kind of danger from an unknown source and my father sent his right-hand man to come out here and follow me around and then kidnap me? Why didn’t he come get me himself? What about my mom? How does she fit in to all this? Obviously, if what you say is true, she ran with me for a reason all those years ago. Why shouldn’t I believe that reason has something to do with my father? She must have left him for some reason.”
“I wish I could fill all these holes in for you, but I don’t have many more details than what I’ve already told you. What I can tell you with certainty is that your father is a good man and there is no way I would ever believe for a minute that your mother left because of something he did to her or to you. He loves you very much. That was clear.” James clenched his stomach, feeling her pain. She was far more uninformed than he’d anticipated.
“Why didn’t you just ring the doorbell like a civilized human being if what you’re saying is true? Why was it necessary to essentially abduct me in the middle of the night?” Hannah grabbed his arm, pinching his biceps hard with her grip. His skin practically burned where she touched him, the warmth traveling up his arm and across his torso.
“Would you have quietly come with me? Just jumped in the car with a stranger spouting a story as ridiculous as all this?” James flexed his muscles under her grip and she released her hold, sitting back with a long sigh.
“I suppose not. But it still seems excessive, your means. Did you think this through first or just burst in and lay in wait?”
“Seemed like the best thing to do.”
Could this all be true? Flashes of her childhood ran through her thoughts. Christmas when she was about nine, alone in an apartment with her mom. Her seventh birthday, also just her and her mom at Chuck E. Cheese’s.
She closed her eyes and tried hard to recall a memory of her father. If she’d been five as James said, she should be able to remember something. A beautiful pink bedroom fit for a princess surfaced in her mind.
Suddenly she’d found herself wrapped in a blanket, her mother holding her tight against her body and carrying her in a rush out the door. Without a word, she’d yanked open the backseat of their sedan and settled Hannah against the cool leather upholstery, buckling her in.
“We’re going on an adventure,” her mother mumbled. Hannah’s tiny sleepy eyes opened just enough to see the look on her mom’s face, lips pressed together, brows furrowed, belying her words of excitement.
“Is Daddy going?” Hannah asked.
“No, baby. Not this time. Go back to sleep.”
“Oh my God,” Hannah uttered. Was it possible? Had her mother really fled with her in the night? Why? And if so, did she even want to go back there? She must have had her reasons. Abuse? Money? Divorce? She was reeling with suppressed memories when James spoke again.
“You remember, don’t you?”
“Yes. But that doesn’t explain anything. My mother loves me. Why? Why would she take me away from our home, my father, if not for a good reason?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” James paused and glanced her way. His eyes were full of sorrow. He tentatively reached a hand toward her cheek and grazed the skin next to her ear gently.
Déjà vu hit Hannah right in the gut. She’d seen that look before, a look of extreme concern for her, followed by the same gentle touch. Hannah flinched.
“You were there…when I fell on the front steps…you-you…” Hannah yanked away from his touch. An overwhelming sense of betrayal made her head swim. What had been true in her life so far? Why would her mother run with her from their home in the middle of the night and then tell her that her father was dead? Why hadn’t her father come for her sooner? Had he been looking for her all this time?
“Yes, I was there. It was only a scraped knee and some tears, but you always managed to scream as though your arm had been sawed off when you were hurt.” He gave a soft chuckle.
As much as she craved his touch, any contact with him at all, she was loath to admit it yet and tried to distance herself from him by scooting closer to the door. Whatever strange reaction she had toward him was downright weird.
James looked so genuine and sincere. Her foggy memories of him towering over her childhood self flickered in and out, the snapshots of a photo album burning into her memory.
All Hannah had were more questions, no answers.
Why did she have so many memories of him near her when he had to have been about five years older than her? Didn’t he have any friends his own age?
Had her father been looking for her for sixteen years? How long ago had he found her? God.
They settled into silence, Hannah watching the trees go by out the passenger window as the sun came up over the horizon at their back. She needed to talk to her mom. She needed answers.
Digging into the deep recesses of her brain, all Hannah could remember was her mother’s repeated insistence throughout the last sixteen years that Hannah be diligent and careful about her surroundings. As though she somehow knew one day Hannah would find herself in just such a predicament. She’d harped repeatedly on safety, locked doors, deadbolts, stranger danger. Now it all made more sense. They’d been on the run, essentially, most of Hannah’s life. For whatever reason, Meredith Stone did not want Hannah to be found.
And that reason scared Hannah to the bone.
A shrill sound coming from behind the seats jerked Hannah from her reverie. The ringtone was assigned to her mother, who was no doubt wondering why Hannah wasn’t at home. She stared at James. Would he keep her from her own mother? Why had he even brought the cell along? She hadn’t realized he had.
“Aren’t you going to get that? She’ll be worried sick by now.” He didn’t look at her.
Hannah scrambled to reach behind his seat and search for the mix of vibrations and ringing filling the side pocket of her favorite duffel.
Just as the fourth ring sounded, Hannah yanked the little cell free and flipped it open.
“Mom.”
“Hannah? Where the dickens are you? I’ve been calling your apartment for ten minutes.”
A deep breath. “Mom, I’m…
” What was she supposed to say? Calmly tell her mother some stranger—well, he really wasn’t a complete stranger after all—broke into her apartment and kidnapped her in the night? Why was James even allowing this call? Hannah stared at his profile. He hadn’t moved a muscle. The only indication he was even under distress was the furrow of his brows pinching together.
Perhaps he too hoped for some of the same answers Hannah needed.
“Hannah?”
“I’m here.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere in Pennsylvania by now.”
“What? Why? Oh God.”
“You knew this would happen, didn’t you? Mom, why? Is it true? Have you been lying to me all these years?”
“Hannah, who has you? What did he say? Has he hurt you? Can you get away?”
“Mom, I’m fine. I don’t need to get away. Unless you want me to jump out a car barreling down the highway. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was trying to protect you. Who took you, Hannah? Did he say his name? Is he tall, heavy, sixtyish, beard?”
“No. Mom, what are you talking about? His name is James. You must know him. Even I remember him.” Confusion caused more questions to brew, adding to a list a mile long.
James reached his hand over and set it on Hannah’s thigh, squeezing gently as if providing her with his own strength to face her mother. Strangely, she welcomed the contact.
Of all the people in the world, it seemed the one person who wasn’t lying to her was the man who’d abducted her from her own apartment only a few hours ago.
Meredith exhaled a long relieved breath. “Thank God. I was so scared.”
“What the hell is going on, Mom? I need you to fill in about six dozen holes in my life. Now’s a good time.” Impatience was wearing on her.
“It’s a long story. I’m just so glad you’re with James. You’ll be safe with him. Don’t let him out of your sight, you hear?”
“Mom, this is preposterous. Safe from what? Who?”
“Hannah, I’m so sorry. Believe me, your father and I didn’t make this decision lightly. We did what we thought was best for you. I promise we would have told you everything eventually. I had hoped we had more time. Listen, I’ll call you back—”
“Mom! No. You can’t go. You have to tell me what’s going on. Why—”
“I have to call your father now, find out what happened. Why didn’t he call me? Crap, my cell was dead yesterday afternoon. God, he probably did call. Please, just stay safe. Use all the information I’ve ever taught you and watch your surroundings. Hannah, James is a good guy. He won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. I love you.”
Click.
Hannah held the phone in front of her and stared at it. What the hell was going on? Your father and I didn’t make this decision lightly… This was planned? Her father knew? Her mother fled with her from her childhood home to protect her? From what?
“Hannah?” James’ deep baritone dragged her gaze to his.
She knew he’d heard everything, the entire huge pile of nothing that only caused more questions and cleared up not one thing. Her mother’s voice was so loud.
Hannah flipped the phone closed and dropped it into the center console. “I guess she trusts you. At least she wants me to.” She resumed her staring out the window.
She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Can we stop? I need to use the restroom. And I’m starving.”
She didn’t glance away from the exciting outdoor scenery. “Of course. I could use a bite myself.”
Chapter Three
A bite? He could sure use a bite all right. Of the thin skin above this vixen’s clit.
James may have squeezed her leg a bit harder than intended when she used the term “bite”. His mind had been doing nothing but wandering around the memory of her soft sexy body beneath the thin little number he’d found her wearing when he’d shown up at her place.
At the next exit, James pulled off at a gas station and started filling the tank while they went in to use the facilities. He was leery about letting Hannah out of his sight. At this point, he didn’t believe she’d bolt, but what if someone was following them?
James ducked quickly into the men’s room and was back in front of the women’s before Hannah finished. Nevertheless, relief flooded him when she emerged. Her cheeks were pink and damp, her blonde hair smoothed back and tucked behind her ears. He stared at her, not budging.
“What?”
“Thanks for trusting me. I was afraid you’d run.”
“Lucky for you, the only sense my mom made on the phone was to reiterate more than once I should trust you. Of course,” she added, raising her chin toward him, “at this point I don’t even know why I should trust her.”
True. Couldn’t argue with that.
“Drive through?” he asked as they made their way back to the pump.
“Anything. I’m easy.”
Fuck. Would she please stop saying such things? James held his breath. As did Hannah. Had she realized the double meaning of her words?
“’Kay then, let’s just grab some fast food and keep moving. We’ve a long ways to go.”
And it was going to seem even longer trapped in the confines of this luxury car with his body reacting violently toward the sexy scent of his mate beside him. He didn’t know how he would avoid pulling over along the highway and taking her right in the front seat.
This vixen was going to be the death of him, he was sure.
“If we’re in such a rip-roaring hurry to get to Seattle, why don’t we just fly?”
“Because…people might be following us.” He exhaled. “Listen, driving helps us lay low, makes it much harder to track us. If we’d gone straight to the airport, there’d have been no way to know for sure if we were followed. Too easy to corner us.”
“Do you really think I’m in that much danger?” Hannah wrapped her arms around her middle.
“No, I don’t. Really.” He paused. She looked dubious, worry wrinkling the corners of her eyes. “I don’t think whoever was on your tail was in the area last night. I think we gave them the slip. But we aren’t taking any chances anyway.”
* * * * *
Luckily, after a quick on-the-go meal, Hannah fell into a deep sleep, leaving James to his thoughts.
He had a difficult time keeping an eye on the road, but he sure wasn’t tired, with one eye trained on the beautiful woman relaxed in slumber beside him. She was nearly curled into a ball, her feet beneath her, her head resting against the passenger door where she’d stuffed a sweatshirt as a pillow.
Long glorious locks of blonde hair curled around her angelic face. In sleep, she looked as innocent as she had at five years old, with the same peaceful, relaxed face he remembered seeing when she’d fallen asleep on his parents’ couch after a late-night family party. He’d stared at her that night, wondering what his obsession was with a five-year-old girl, in no way understanding at the time she was actually his mate.
He’d thought about her over the years, but had shoved those memories to the recesses of his brain to stave off the pain of her loss in his life.
Now, it was all so clear. She was his. His pre-pubescent ten-year-old body had even known.
Now he had to tell her father, and her mother, apparently.
She was still young, only twenty-one, but it wasn’t unheard of for matings to occur at that age. Only fate seemed to control when mates would meet. Apparently even at ages five and ten.
With each mile, James’ need grew incrementally more insistent. He couldn’t put off the inevitable much longer. This little wolf was his. Eventually they would have to find a hotel and stop, get some rest. At least for a few hours. When that happened, could he keep his hands to himself, buy her another day, another night, before he took her? Seemed unlikely.
Did she even know she was a wolf? The question lingered, but he still had no idea what she knew of their kind. What had her mother told h
er over the years? Sounded like nothing. She could get away with that. Unlike the males of their species, who began to shift during puberty and started running with the adults of the pack soon after, a female of their kind wouldn’t experience a change until after she mated.
Hannah’s mother would have known these details and could have kept the information from her indefinitely if she chose.
James shivered to think he would have to be the one to educate Hannah in about nineteen different ways in such a short time. His mind warred between feeling the nervousness of such a responsibility and the pride at being given the opportunity to provide such an important influx of knowledge to his mate.
With his chest pumped up just a little, he once again inhaled the spicy, fresh scent—all Hannah. James allowed a few deep breaths so he could wallow in his own ability to identify everything about her.
Even in a light slumber, her pheromones heightened, a steady need to be taken by him. Her essence made him adjust his crotch. With each shallow breath he caught a whiff of the mint she’d eaten after their makeshift breakfast in the car. The aroma of the perfume she’d probably applied more than twenty-four hours ago lingered in the air. He liked the soft floral smell; it wasn’t overpowering. But he secretly hoped to convince her to quit wearing perfume at all. He didn’t like the idea of her masking her own sweet fragrance.
A long exhalation brought his attention back to her face for a quick glance. Her eyes had fluttered open. She smiled at him slightly and it lit up his insides.
“James?”
“Yeah?”
“What the hell is going on?”
Oh shit. Her question was loaded like a grenade. He’d no idea how to respond. “What do you mean?” Sure, throw the ball back in her court. Wuss.
“I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I do know you have more information than you’ve shared. There is something between you and I that seems…familiar. As though we’ve known each other our entire lives. And I’m not just talking about some brief encounter when I was five.”
“Yes, I agree.”
“Seriously? That’s your answer? You agree?”