Base Nature
Sommer Marsden
When Garrett Gustafson breaks from his pack, it’s all about distance. He doesn’t expect to meet a long-tortured woman or someone he wants so bad his teeth damn near ache. He most definitely doesn’t expect to meet a woman he’d even consider changing. Changing is frowned upon and dangerous. But Liv McCoy not only captures his heart, she tempts him. Tempts him to take her, to change her and even to love her.
Liv McCoy has been the weak one all her life. All she wants is a little power. When Garrett shows up she feels an unspeakable pull. Not just to give herself over to him in bed, but to offer all of herself—heart, body and soul. Garrett can give her power. She just needs to convince him that she can handle the change. And his love.
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Base Nature
ISBN 9781419926679
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Base Nature Copyright © 2009 Sommer Marsden
Edited by Helen Woodall
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication December 2009
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
BASE NATURE
Sommer Marsden
Dedication
For the man. Forever and ever, amen.
Acknowledgements
As always, I want to acknowledge my faithful dear readers, who listen to me blog and yammer and coo and cuss over my WIPs. They listened to more than their fair share of wolf lusting and excited babble and many posts with me coveting items with red hoods or lupine creatures. So did my man. So did my kids. So did my mothers. And so did my awesome friends (including but not limited to—P.S. Haven, Scarlett Greyson, Alison Tyler and everyone who follows me on Twitter). A thank you also goes out to you if you came in contact with me in any way during the writing—and obsessing—of this book. Your patience is greatly appreciated.
XOXOs
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Batman: DC Comics Inc.
Buffy: Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation
Levi’s: Levi Strauss & Co.
Tarzan: Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc. Sommer Marsden
Prologue
Restless
He felt it right under his skin like mild electricity. The restlessness zipped and zinged along his arms and legs, making him shake as if he could throw it off. If only it were that easy. To just get free of the feeling that almost resembled craving. But Garrett knew it wasn’t that easy and it had taken him all of his thirty-one years to get to the point where it was as mild as a craving. Once upon a time, it had been a need. It had been violent and swift and savage. The cyclical sweep of his natural desires had to be managed, as all urges did. But it hadn’t and here he was, two days from the full moon, wondering why he felt it more intensely this month. Why it was so overpowering. Something was coming, intuition told him so. He had used his extra sense long enough to trust it. So why was he lying to himself?
Garrett shook his head, turned his car into the driveway and cut the engine.
“Not something, man. Someone,” he said to no one and ran a hand through his hair. It was shaking.
So someone was coming and he was scared. This couldn’t be good.
Chapter One
Remembrance
Liv sat up straight. The blankets puddled around her middle and her heart banged restlessly. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she said to the empty room.
Brisk air flowed in through the cracked open window and somewhere far off a dog howled into the lightening dawn. All the hair on her neck stood up and she shivered. Stupid dreams. Stupid, vibrant dreams. No matter how hard she worked to put the past behind her, the dreams couldn’t be escaped.
Her feet hit the frigid hardwood floor and she felt around with her toes, hoping to find her slippers. The dream was the same one she always had. Walking through the narrow row-home to the sound of her stepfather hitting her mother. Rick Reed would hit Liv’s mother, Margaret, over and over and over while she begged. Her mother would promise and plead and above all else, she would try to stay quiet so Liv would not hear. But Liv always heard.
If she went to find her mother, try to help, it only got worse.
Liv stood, finding one slipper and then the other. She slid them on and padded into the hall. There would be no more sleep for her. It was best to just accept it now and start her day. She turned the bathroom light on with shaking hands and sighed. “You’re thirty years old, Olivia. Don’t you think it is time to let go of this?” But that is not what Dr. Sanders had told her to say. She tried again, “I am a strong, grown woman. I am in control of my surroundings and my life. I am secure and safe and empowered.”
When she finished relieving herself and finally climbed into the shower, she was still chilly and had started to cry.
“Another fabulous night, I see,” Ellen said.
“I’ve had better.” Liv typed the statistics into the computer file and hoped that her friend would let it go. Ellen was a wonderful friend but she could be a bit aggressive when it came to her opinion.
“Wouldn’t it be better if you went ahead and made an appointment instead of torturing yourself?”
“Don’t need one.”
“You have circles under your eyes that look like you should be on a football field.”
“Football?” Liv laughed.
“You know, that crap they smear under their eyes.” Ellen threw her hands up. “Okay, you look like shit. That’s what I mean. Does that make sense?”
Liv tried not to smile and failed. “Roger that. I’m fine. Really. I just didn’t get enough sleep.”
“And why is that, Livvie?” Ellen turned from her computer and attacked her already short nails with a nail file. If Dick, the office manager, caught her doing that, she was toast.
“Because I didn’t?”
“Because you dreamed of it all over again, yes? Because you had the same nightmares you’ve had forever and a day. And they are all being aggravated by that prick Kevin calling here.”
Liv put her head down, determined not to get upset. Kevin was calling, sure, but she was a big girl and she could handle it. He was just a guy and if she felt the need, she would pick up the phone and dial 9-1-1 and let them handle him.
“Liv,” Ellen sighed, rolling toward her on her desk chair, “you have to get that man gone. Get him out of your life. You had to deal with a violent ass all through your growing-up years, you should not have to deal with a guy who hits you now.”
&n
bsp; “I’m not dealing with him. He’s gone.”
“He’s not gone if he’s calling you. He’s just harassing you via phone as opposed to in person.”
Ellen’s lips were set in a thin, tight line and it hurt Liv to see it. She just wanted things to be better. She just wanted to get through this. “I’ll work it out. I promise.”
“You can’t let him rule your life.”
“I won’t.”
The phone rang and they both stared at it. The truth was it could be anyone. Anyone at all. She was at work, after all. So why was she so sure it was him?
“It’s that asshole,” Ellen hissed, confirming Liv’s suspicion.
For some reason that struck her as extremely funny. Liv started to laugh. She heard herself and felt panic in her belly. Even to her own ears, her laugh sounded high and anxious. “Hello?” Her hands shook and her stomach flip-flopped.
“Hello, Livvie,” he said and she closed her eyes.
“I don’t want to talk to you, Kevin.” Her voice was shaking to match her hands. She should have hung up but hadn’t quite managed the part of her that told her she was allowed to do that. She could hang up, shut the door, not listen. She could break free. But some damaged part of her had yet to put this into effect. Most days, Liv tried to look at that as progress. The fact that she realized she had it in her to turn her back. It was just a matter of getting to the point where she did it, all the time. Took control of the situation. Today was not that day it seemed.
“See, there, you don’t have to talk. You just have to listen. I’ll be there tonight to pick you up. We need to talk. Or I need to talk and you need to hear,” he said.
“I can’t.”
“You will.”
“I’m busy,” she lied.
“You’re lying,” he said.
How many times had he verbally abused her before he’d hit. And then how many times had he hit before she’d finally, with the help of friends like Ellen, broken free? Too many. And how many times would he keep creeping back to see if she would break, or if her support system could be fractured as it were? Liv felt that the answer was probably too many. He would just keep coming until something changed. It could only be her.
“I am. I am lying. I don’t want to see you, Kevin. Ever. I don’t want to see you ever again.”
“Careful, Liv.” His voice held menace and a smile. Kevin always did have a sick sense of fun.
“Leave me alone,” she said.
“Sure. Hang up on me then.”
Liv could hear that tone in his voice. The same tone that Rick always used with her mom and then later that day or night she would hear him striking her. Only twice had he started hitting her in front of Liv but many times Liv had walked in on the violence. Too damn many.
“I…”
“Come on, brave, brave Livvie. Hang up the phone. Tell me to fuck off. Tell me you hate me. Tell me you never ever want to see me again and that you don’t still love me.”
Ellen had slunk closer and now she pressed her head to Liv’s head. Her blonde hair tickled along Liv’s jaw and Liv shivered from the crawling sensation. Her hands were cold, her heart heavy. Her mouth so dry she felt like she could drink a gallon of water. “I…”
Ellen pulled her head back, frowning. Tell him she mouthed. Her lips were pressed into a tight seam and the sense of disapproval was nearly overwhelming to Liv.
“Kevin, I…”
“Careful,” he said, his voice full of venom.
“She doesn’t love you, nor does she want to talk to you, and you, Kevin McHale, are a turd,” Ellen hissed and hit the button with her finger and cut him off. “There,” she said, turning. Her back was rigid with anger and her fists were clenched.
“There,” echoed Liv but she felt that wasn’t quite the end of it. Fear snaked up her spine. She did her best to ignore it.
The day passed slowly. The way a day will pass when you are dreading an event that’s coming. Liv tried her best to put the sound of Kevin’s voice out of her head. “I give up,” she said to herself in the mirror.
“No you don’t,” Ellen said, coming out of the stall by the door.
Liv jumped. “Jesus. You scared me. I do. I give up, El. I can’t be this…beaten down any more.”
“You just need to find your power. Like the good doc said. Like I said,” she laughed. “God knows my opinion trumps any doctor’s.” Ellen winked at her in the mirror. Her reflection as vibrant and bright and strong as the woman herself. Liv envied her more than she could fathom at that point in time. When would she feel that strong? Ever?
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder,” Ellen said. She hugged Liv and pulled her out of the restroom. “Now onward and upward. Go home, take a hot shower, put your feet up. Pour yourself some wine, honey. And remember, that ass has no more power over you than you give him. Don’t give him any.”
“Don’t give him any,” Liv repeated. Easier said than done.
———
The shower was a brilliant idea. It was exactly what she needed. Liv stepped in and replayed the nightmare of a day. Examining the worries was the only way she had found to get them to up and leave her thoughts. The beating had been taking place in her mother’s pristine white bedroom. So much like her own, she realized. Liv didn’t need a shrink to point out that she was in fact re-creating and keeping the white, blood-free existence her mother had strived for.
Where Margaret tried to keep a crisp white room, it always ended dotted in blood. Rick made sure of that. He had once, to Liv’s recollection, called it decorating. Let’s decorate your pretty white sheets, Marge and then the sounds of hitting. Liv would see the sheets, speckled like fancy Easter eggs, with a burgundy pattern of light spray. Bloody noses only. Rick was careful to not leave her mother black and blue.
“He used it as stress release,” Liv said to the bathroom ceiling and then she laughed. The laugh was high and tense. The laugh of a crazy person. All this time, this worry should be gone. This fear should be gone. By now fear should be her friend, instead it was her tormentor. Liv was tired of the fear.
But she didn’t know how to fix it.
Something banged in the bedroom. A sharp sound from the far side of the wall, audible even over the shower’s hiss. Liv froze, trying to figure what it could be. The windows were closed to the October chill. She didn’t have a pet. Her nipples went taut with a sudden chill despite the hot blast of water. Goose bumps sprang up on her skin and without thinking Liv said, “Hello?”
Now whoever or whatever it might be was aware that she knew of its presence. She left the water running but slid the curtain back. The stark white bathroom assaulted her eyes. The overhead lamp blazed, the heating element glowed amber in the ceiling. The window was cracked open and she could see a slip of her backyard through the space. Liv pulled her heavy red robe on and tied it. Her hair shed droplets of water, already cooling as it ran down her neck.
Jesus, I’m having a heart attack…
She glanced around the room, her heart banging painfully hard. There was nothing she could use as a weapon. Nothing heavy or long enough to hold a person off. There was no phone in the bathroom and her cell was down on the dining room table. Another small bang came. Almost as if the person was playing with her. “Hello,” Liv whispered but no one could hear. Finally, she shut off the water so she could hear better.
There was a creak and a shuffle that did not belong in her solitary home. Liv bit her lip, forcing herself to stay calm and not to cry. A dry raspy sound came from the door. It was up just a bit, she hadn’t locked it.
“Livvie?” came Kevin’s voice.
Liv found her face in the steamed-over mirror. Big eyes, pale cheeks. Fear. She pushed her shoulders back, determined not to let him hear. Now was not the time to break. “Get out of here, Kevin!” she yelled.
It sounded weak but she had managed.
“Livvie,” he said again, his voice plaintive but dark. A man pretending to be sorry. Pretending t
o be apologetic.
“Now, Kevin!” She opened the medicine cabinet as quietly as she could. It barely made a sound and that small sound was probably inaudible to anyone but her. And Liv was shocked she could hear anything at all over the wild knocking of her heart.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Liv.”
Liv heard him sigh the way he did when he felt she had been silly or stupid or angered him. He’d often sighed that way before he hit her. She grabbed a pair of tweezers from the second shelf of her medicine cabinet. Worst-case scenario, if she could manage it, she’d go straight for the eyes. “Go now, Kevin!”
Nothing. No sound, no whispers, no creaks of the ancient hallway floor. Nothing at all, as if nothing more than a bad dream or a specter had been in her house. Liv wondered for a brief moment if she was in fact insane. If she had imagined him being there. She swung the door open and on the pristine carpet was a smooth stone from her garden out front. His little way of assuring her that he had indeed come by. That he had been in her house and she hadn’t let him in.
Liv kicked the stone to the side of the hall and peeked around her bedroom door. Nothing. The window was now raised. Which meant that Kevin had hopped easily enough onto the banister of her porch, boosted himself onto the small red roof and then pushed her unlocked window up. Liv rushed forward and pushed the window shut. She heard him coming before she could push it back up to call out for help.
First she felt his big dark presence, then the vibration of his footsteps on her old, faded country carpet before he hit her. She barely got to turn. She didn’t get to wield her deadly tweezers because Kevin hit her with a solid shoulder. Like the football player he used to be. Like the angry man he was. He hit her in the belly with the curve of his shoulder and carried her down to the floor with his bulk.
Base Nature Page 1