Powerhouse

by Rebecca York

  Chapter Four

  “What is it?” Shelley asked, her voice urgent.

  Matt couldn’t speak. As he stared at the image of the star on the screen, dark visions swam in his mind, memories that had never been accessible to him. Seeing that eight-pointed symbol had been like a mental door opening. Suddenly he knew where he had been when he’d been kidnapped all those years ago.

  Beside him, Shelley turned in her seat and clamped slender fingers onto his arm. “Matt, what is it?”

  With a hand he couldn’t quite hold steady, he pointed to the strange-looking star.

  “That.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure. A symbol. As soon as I saw it, something leaped into my mind.”

  “Something like what?” she demanded.

  The memory had been sharp and painful—and disturbing. If he told her, was she going to freak out like she had when he’d admitted his secret talent?

  She wasn’t giving him a choice. Tightening her hold on him, she demanded, “You have to tell me! You can’t hold anything back because you think it’s going to frighten me—or disturb me.”

  “I’m the one who’s freaking out,” he managed. “I told you that the time when I was kidnapped was a total blank. It was, but when I saw that star, I remembered…things.”

  “Bad things?” she asked in a strained voice.

  “Yeah.” He swallowed hard, wondering how he was going to say the next part. “A holding cell. There were bright lights over my head. They kept me awake. I’m sure there was a camera high up on the wall. I was alone. And scared.”

  She made a low sound. “That’s when you were twelve?”

  “Yes.” Now that he’d told her that much, he found he needed to say the rest of it aloud—to make sure he wasn’t making it up. “There was a narrow bed in the cell. Men would come in and take me down the hall to a…I don’t know. It was like a doctor’s office, I guess. They gave me all kinds of physical exams.”

  He gulped. “And they strapped me down and stuck needles into my back. Then into my arm.”

  She gasped. “Oh Lord. That must have been so awful. Do…do you think the same people have Trevor?”

  “I don’t know.” I hope not, he silently added, knowing that she was probably thinking the same thing.

  It was all he could do to stop himself from shaking. He wanted to be alone, to deal with this in private, but Shelley was sitting beside him, and he couldn’t duck away from her. Not now.

  “Why did they let you go?”

  “I…I think I used my power to…give them a push. I mean, I put the suggestion into their minds, and they took me home.”

  “And you didn’t have the power to do that—before they captured you?”

  “Not hardly.”

  “So what they did to you—with those shots and all—caused it?”

  “I think that must be true.”

  She ran a shaky hand through her hair as she took that in, then made a strangled exclamation.

  “Will…Trevor…be able to do that?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “If he could, they’d let him go.”

  “We hope.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, and he forced himself not to look away. Finally, she turned back to the computer screen.

  “Don’t you think that guy, Jack Maddox, was probably captured by the same people? I mean if he has that star on his Web site—and it made you remember what happened to you.”

  He nodded. The memories had excited him at first. Now they dug painful claws into the cells of his brain.

  Shelley scrolled through the Web site. “Look. There’s a phone number. We can call him and find out what he knows.”

  Matt felt desperation warring with hope. Maybe this man had some information that would lead them to Trevor, but he knew that they had to be cautious. “We can’t call,” he said.

  Her instant disappointment tore at him. “Why not?”

  “For starters, my phone might be tapped.”

  “Even your cell phone?”

  “Yeah. And if they’re listening in on me, they’ll go right to Jack Maddox’s house. Or—it could be a trap. Suppose it’s not really a guy looking for his brother. Suppose the bad guys put up this site to find people they’d kidnapped when they were kids.”

  She winced. “Why would they do that?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. To get us back. Or to find out who remembers what. Maybe when somebody remembers they wipe out his memory again.”

  She gave a little nod. “I didn’t think of that. It sounds so diabolical.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve rolled it around in my mind for years.”

  “That’s what you were doing when I’d wake up and find you lying there, and I’d know you hadn’t been sleeping?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wish I’d known what you were going through.”

  “I was hiding it from you—and everybody else. I wanted to seem normal.”

  “Oh, Matt.”

  “Don’t pity me.”

  “I…” she stopped and started again. “You think someone is listening to your phone calls?”

  “I don’t know!” he answered, managing not to shout but knowing that he was going to lose control if he wasn’t careful. He turned back to the screen. “Look at how this Web site is set up. Let’s assume Maddox is for real. He’s being cautious, too. He’s not saying a lot. If I hadn’t seen that star, I wouldn’t have remembered anything. I wouldn’t have thought about contacting the guy.”

  She scrolled through the material again and turned back to him. “I…guess you’re right. We can’t call, but what are we going to do?”

  “Tomorrow, we go see the guy.”

  She looked from him to the screen and back again. “But he’s in Rapid City, South Dakota.”

  Matt checked the mileage on Google. It’s about 365 miles. We can be there in two hours.”

  She gave him a questioning look. “How?”

  “We’ll fly.”

  “But if we’re trying to—” she stopped and gestured with her hand “—trying to hide our plans, won’t there be a record of our reservations?”

  “We’re not making reservations. I have a Cessna at the Yuma Municipal Airport.”

  “A Colorado town of three thousand has an airport?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. And why do you have a plane there?”

  He turned his hand palm up, thinking that they’d cut through a lot of his barriers in the short time she’d been here. He’d never discussed his feelings with anyone, but he was doing it now. “The ranch is my home. But sometimes I feel the place closing in on me, and I need to get away. When I do, I take off and fly somewhere I haven’t been before—where I can lose myself for a while.”

  “It’s because of that holding cell,” she whispered.

  “I guess so.”

  Because he was too restless to sit, he stood and walked to the window, where he stared out into the darkness, wishing he could blot out the scenes playing through his head.

  He knew why he had wiped away the memories of his time in captivity. They were too awful for a twelve-year-old boy to remember and too awful for him now.

  He heard Shelley push back her chair. Then he felt her hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He kept his back to her. “For what?”

  “What you remembered. I can see it’s…hurting you.”

  “Maybe that’s my punishment for getting my son into this!”

  “Lord, Matt. Don’t ever say that. Your memories could help us find Trevor.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Would it be okay…if we talked about it a little more.”

  He forced himself to say, “Yes.”

  “So you were in a building?”

  “I don’t know. If it was, it didn’t have any windows.”

  “What else could it have been?”

  He sighed. “I guess it w
asn’t a boat.”

  “And you don’t remember anything outside? You don’t remember arriving?”

  “I must have still been in that van, or I was out cold.”

  She made a low sound.

  “All this speculation isn’t doing either one of us any good.”

  “I see that.” She stroked his arm, but he kept his body rigid. “Do you want me to leave you alone?” she asked in a small voice.

  “That’s the last thing I want.” Turning, he reached for her, and she came into his arms. They clung together, each of them hurting, each of them needing comfort.

  “Oh, Matt.”

  He stared down at her, meeting her eyes, and they moved at the same time. As he lowered his head, she raised hers, so that their mouths met. His reaction was swift and primal. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her hard, a desperate kiss filled with hunger, and he knew in that charged moment as his lips moved over hers that he needed her more than anything else in the world.

  Was that okay? He couldn’t decide, but he knew that they were both in a desperate situation. She was his only source of comfort, and he was hers. And he couldn’t force his arms to turn her loose. Not unless she pushed him away or slipped out of his embrace.

  When she stayed where she was, he angled his head one way and then the other, feasting on her, nibbling at her lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, taking the kiss to a level of instant intimacy that was only possible with lovers who knew each other well.

  How could he have had the strength to send her away five years ago? He didn’t know the answer. He only knew that having her in his arms again made his heart beat faster.

  As he held her to him, his hands moved restlessly across her back, down her spine, to her hips, molding their bodies, sealing them with heat.

  And to his shock and gratitude, she met his hunger with her own, her mouth exploring his, her hands clutching at him, pulling him closer. If a bomb had exploded outside in the darkness, he wouldn’t have known it because the world had contracted to the woman in his arms. Her scent. The feel of her in his embrace. Her wonderful taste.

  When she made a tiny, whimpering sound, it tingled along his nerve endings.

  Lifting his head, he stared down at her. She looked dazed—as dazed as he felt.

  He wanted her, and every masculine instinct urged him to rush her into the bedroom before she changed her mind, but he couldn’t do that. He had to give her a chance to decide what was right for her.

  “Will you come to my room?” he asked in a thick voice, then waited with his heart pounding.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  He celebrated the answer with another kiss. Greedy for more, he swept his tongue into the warmth of her mouth, investigated the inside of her lips, the serrated edges of her teeth, the sensitive tissue beyond.

  In response, she moaned into his mouth, her tongue no less bold as it found his, then stroked the insides of his lips.

  Need made him press her body more tightly to his as his hands swept up and down her back, cupped her bottom, lifted her against his erection.

  When they finally came up for air, he took her hand and led her down the hall, past the room where she had slept earlier and into his bedroom—the room they had once shared.

  He had thought she would never come to the Silver Stallion Ranch again. Now she was back. He would have called it a miracle, only the reason was all wrong.

  Tomorrow, they would have to deal with that. Tonight, they both needed comfort and consolation.

  Stepping away from her, he turned on the bathroom light, then closed the door most of the way so that there was enough illumination to see her but not too much to break the spell.

  Desperate to feel her satin skin against his, he yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it away. When he looked up, she had pulled off her blouse and was reaching around to unhook her bra.

  She seemed to be caught in the same wild surge of need as he. Pulling off her borrowed sweatpants, she kicked them away, along with her panties.

  Reaching for him, she began undoing his belt buckle while he unsnapped his jeans and lowered the zipper.

  They both tugged at his pants, dragging them down, so that he was naked in seconds and pulling her into his embrace.

  A strangled cry rose from his throat, or perhaps from hers as he clasped her in his arms, pressing her naked body tightly to his, then easing away just a fraction so that he could sweep her wonderful breasts back and forth across his chest.

  They were fuller now. A woman’s breasts, and he thought she must have nursed their child. But he didn’t ask because he didn’t want the pain of loss to intrude on this moment. He wanted only the two of them in this room, giving to each other and receiving.

  “Oh!” she cried out as the twin points of her nipples dragged across the hair of his chest.

  He remembered this, remembered all of it. Yet he marveled at the intensity of what he felt now.

  Closing his eyes, he trailed his hands down her back, over her rounded bottom, touching her everywhere he could reach.

  They moved together toward the bed, and he bent to pull the covers back so that they could both slip under.

  Rolling to his side, he lowered his head to take one of her distended nipples into his mouth, drawing on her as her hands came up to clasp the back of his head and hold him to her.

  “Matt. Oh, Matt, I told myself I didn’t need you. I was lying to myself.”

  “So was I.”

  Reaching between them, she found his taut, aching flesh, closed her hand around him, stroked him the way she knew he liked.

  He had never needed a woman more than he needed Shelley. Now. And at the same time, her pleasure had become the center of his universe.

  She was offering him a precious gift, and he wasn’t going to accept it without knowing she was with him every step of the way.

  He touched her and kissed her, tasted her, lifting his head to watch her face and judge her readiness as he stroked his fingers through her most intimate flesh. The passion smoldering in her eyes told him what he needed to know.

  “Matt…now…please.” She rolled to her back and reached for him again, her hand firm on his erection as she guided him to her.

  His body sank into hers, and he felt as though he had come home after a long, lonely trip through a wasteland that he couldn’t even describe.

  Lifting his head, he stared down at her.

  “I was a fool to give you up,” he whispered as he began to move inside her.

  She matched his rhythm, clung to his shoulders, climbed toward orgasm with him. The tension was almost unbearable as he held himself back, waiting for her to reach the peak of her pleasure. When he felt her start to contract around him, he let go, climax rocking his body and rocking his soul. Their lovemaking had been intense before, but never like this because now they shared a sorrow neither of them could express in words.

  As the storm passed, she moved her lips against his cheek, clasped him tightly when he tried to shift his weight away from her.

  “Stay.”

  He gathered her to him, rolling to his side, still inside her, holding her as he finally let himself drift off to sleep.

  AND IN THE MORNING, when he woke up at seven, she was gone from the bed—as he knew she would be.

  Quickly he climbed from under the covers, then strode to the bathroom where he used the facilities, showered and shaved. He could have gone looking for her right away. But he was postponing the discussion they were going to have.

  Finally, when he was dressed and feeling a little more in control, he followed the smell of fresh coffee down the hall to the kitchen. She had also dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, clothing of hers that she had left here five years ago. And she’d found it in the storage closet.

  Her back was to him, and she seemed to be staring out the window.

  “Look at me.”

  When she turned to him, her eyes
were red-rimmed.

  “Don’t tell me we did anything wrong last night,” he said in a gritty voice. “We needed each other. You know that as well as I do.”

  “And our little boy could be in a holding cell with bright lights keeping him awake!”

  “Don’t.”

  “I’m just trying to…”

  “Make us both feel guilty,” he supplied.

  She raised her chin. “Shouldn’t we feel guilty?”

  He kept his gaze on her. “Think about it this way. Five years ago, I sent you away because I thought it was the right thing to do. If I hadn’t, I would have had the happiness of the two of you with me. I denied myself that. Now I’ve got the pain of losing my son—without ever having met him. And the pain of knowing that I put him in danger.”

  Before he finished speaking, she made a little gasping sound. “Oh, Matt. I wasn’t thinking of all that. I was just feeling terrible because I let myself take comfort from you because I needed you so much. Then in the morning I felt…like I’d betrayed Trevor.”

  Quickly she crossed the distance between them and pulled him close. His arms came up to embrace her, and they stood in the middle of the floor, holding each other.

  They clung together for long moments, swaying slightly. When he finally eased away, he saw tears in her eyes. One spilled out and trailed down her cheek. Raising his hand, he wiped it away with his knuckle.

  “We’ll find him,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  He might have added, I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands off you while we’re together. But he left that and a lot of other things unsaid.

  “I remember you like a good breakfast,” she said briskly. “Do you want eggs and bacon?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  They both ate quickly. Then he went back to the computer to plot a route to Rapid City, South Dakota.

  Next he walked over to the bunkhouse to tell Ed Janey that they would be away for a few days and that he wouldn’t be able to call. Finally, he tramped down the road a ways, looking at the boot tracks. Unfortunately, it seemed that Ed had also gone down the road to have a look at Shelley’s car, obscuring any tracks from the previous night.