Summers' Deceit (Hunters Trilogy Book 1)

by Sara J. Bernhardt

  When I awoke the next morning after barely sleeping, I almost screamed when I saw Ian sitting beside me. I instantly recoiled when my mind woke up the rest of the way. I could have sworn for two seconds that he was Danny.

  “You okay?” he asked, smiling.

  “Fine. You…startled me is all.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you hungry?”

  “I don’t know. I guess.”

  He led out his hand. “I’m going to bring us something.”

  I took his hand and crawled out of bed. “Can’t we go out? Please?”

  “Jane, you know that isn’t a good idea.”

  “Please,” I begged. “I can’t stay cooped up in here any longer. I swear I’ll go crazy!”

  He sighed. “It isn’t safe.”

  “Ian, you even said The Sevren is weak, and we are miles from California.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  I gave him a pleading look.

  “Gosh, I hate it when you look at me like that.”

  “Does that mean yes?” I smiled.

  He tossed his arms up and turned away. “Don’t take forever getting ready,” he muttered.

  I shrieked and hugged the back of his shoulders. “Thank you.”

  I showered in the tiny bathroom with the mini bottles of shampoo and conditioner mixes and little bars of soap wrapped in papers with the name of the hotel, which I didn’t bother reading. I didn’t even feel nervous about leaving the perceived safety of the hotel. I had to get out if only for a while. I took some extra time fixing up my hair a little bit and almost thought of putting on some makeup when I realized that, of course, I didn’t have any with me. The thought left as soon as it came anyway. I never cared for makeup. Ian drove us to a nice little coffee shop that seemed so normal and peaceful to me. I was all smiles.

  “You seem overly happy to be here,” he said, laughing.

  I took the seat next to him. “It’s been a while,” I answered. “Like I said, I was going to go crazy cooped up in there.”

  “Well, try not to do anything to attract attention to yourself.”

  I laughed. “When have you known me to attract attention to myself?”

  He nodded. Sometimes the looks he gave me reminded me so much of Danny that it hurt to be around him. It was a relief that he didn’t wear that baseball cap he wore when I first met him. I kept my eyes off his face for a moment, reminding myself continuously that he wasn’t Danny. I inhaled slowly and brought my gaze back to his. I smiled falsely, veiling the thoughts and feelings he wouldn’t understand. A stern voice interrupted us suddenly.

  “Excuse me.”

  I looked up automatically at the man standing beside our table.

  “Yes?” Ian replied.

  My hands started shaking, realizing instantly that we were in trouble. It was a cop. He flashed his badge and stared at me until I averted my gaze. How did he find me?

  “Can I help you?” Ian asked calmly.

  “Yes,” the officer answered, handing him a photo, “I believe you can.”

  “Whoa!” Ian laughed. “Lisa, take a look at this.”

  I realized what he was doing instantly and leaned over to glance at the picture. I felt dizzy, as though I was going to faint. It was a picture of me—a picture Becky had taken of me in the cafeteria. My mother… I knew she’d worry sick over me.

  “This girl looks just like you.”

  I tried to relax and play along. “Yeah, I guess. But honestly, Josh, her hair is hardly even the same color.”

  He laughed.

  “So, you don’t know her?” the officer asked.

  Ian shook his head. “This isn’t Lisa. But I understand the mistake.”

  The officer just stared at me again and took back the photo. “Are you sure?”

  “We’re sure.”

  “Sorry to bother you then.”

  He left us, but the look on Ian’s face was almost distressing. “We need to leave,” he whispered, “now.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” he hissed. “He didn’t buy that for a split second, and he’s going to bring someone else in to haul us off and drag you home.”

  “It’s my mom,” I started. "She's—”

  “Of course she’s worried. That’s why we weren’t supposed to leave the hotel. Come on. Quickly now. We’ve gotta get out of here.”

  I sighed and followed him out to the parking lot.

  “I am proud of you, though,” he said after starting the engine. “The way you handled yourself in there was great. I was terrified you wouldn’t catch on.”

  I smiled. “I’m not completely clueless you know.”

  “I know.” He laughed. “Just naïve.”

  We got back to the hotel without a problem, but Ian immediately started scrambling around the room, almost frantic, shoving his things into his suitcase.

  “Jane! What are you doing? Get moving.”

  “We’re leaving?”

  “Yes,” he whispered sarcastically. “Of course we’re leaving. We can’t stay here.”

  I sighed. “I hate this.”

  “Just get your stuff.”

  I did as he said, trying to not think about why, but I kept hearing him mutter things under his breath.

  “Shit!” he announced, peering out the window.

  “What is it?”

  “The damn cops.”

  “What?”

  “Just do as I say. Can you do that for me?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay, get your things, and we’ll take off through the window and out to the car. They sound a few blocks away, so we have a bit of time, but we still have to hurry. Come on.”

  I followed him out to the car around the back of the hotel, avoiding any spying eyes, to not leave witnesses for the police. We shoved our things in the back seat, and Ian didn’t even buckle his seat belt before bolting out of the driveway as fast as he could.

  “Way to be discreet,” I teased.

  “Not my concern,” he muttered. “Trying to be quick.”

  Definitely something Aidan would say. They weren’t so different, and my thoughts of him raced. I began finding myself thinking about him again and hoping Ian could find some good in him somewhere. We were headed to a different hotel. I didn’t need to ask him to know. I figured that all of my “whats” and “whys” had really gotten me nowhere. I already knew the answers.

  The hotel room was almost exactly the same as the other one. The same twin beds in the tiny room and the cramped little bathroom with the bars of soap that I was almost afraid to use. I hated it. I couldn’t wait for things to change.

  It was time to move on, to move forward. This was my life for right now, and I couldn’t go back to being Jane Callahan in sunny California. That couldn’t be my life anymore. I had to move forward and stop looking back. Ian was who I had right now. He was my guardian and my protector—almost like I was with Danny again. He was warm and kind like Danny but with a lot of hidden secrets I would never know. I had to stick by him now. He was the only one who could help me move on and stop looking over my shoulder at what used to be.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was late in the morning when he woke me.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” he muttered.

  I yawned and rolled over.

  “Come on,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”

  “So talk to me,” I groaned. “Why do I need to be up for you to talk?”

  He chuckled. “Okay, just don’t fall asleep on me.”

  I rolled back over to look at him.

  “Something needs to be done about you and your mother.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, suddenly terrified of what was going to happen next.

  “I was just thinking…now that The Silver Wing has taken care of most of the problem, we need to make sure the few radicals left won’t try coming after you again.”

  “You think they would?”

  He nodded. “I know they woul
d, which is why you need to be kept safe.”

  I nodded and sat up. “Okay…?”

  “I’m not sure what we are going to do yet, but The Silver Wing is stationing a small group in a few areas, so you and your mother need to go somewhere they will be standing guard.”

  “So I can’t go back to California?”

  He shook his head. “That wouldn’t be best, no. Perhaps after The Sevren is no longer a threat at all—”

  “I understand,” I interrupted. “Fine.”

  He nodded and leaned down to kiss me softly on my cheek. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispered. “You’ll be fine.”

  I shuddered. Ian just kissed me, and worse than that—I had enjoyed it. It actually gave me chills. I shook it off—no need to get infatuated with Ian. That would only complicate things further. Either way, it almost felt wrong. He was too much like Danny. I tried to change the subject and veil the feelings he had forced into me.

  “Do you think the cops are still looking for us?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “So…what are we going to do about that?”

  He sighed and went to sit on his bed. He opened the newspaper.

  “Ian?”

  “Right now, nothing. They won’t find us for a while, and by the time they do, you will be back with your mother.”

  I smiled. “I can’t wait for that.”

  He glanced at me then back at his paper.

  “What?” I questioned. “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing, Jane.”

  “I may not know you that well,” I started, “but I can still tell when you’re lying. You’re a really lousy fibber.”

  He smiled halfheartedly. “I am still just a little concerned is all.”

  “Concerned about what?”

  “Everything. I’m not going to tell you things aren’t a mess.”

  I nodded. “I know things are a mess. But…Ian?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m glad it was you who found me.”

  He smiled. “Thanks, Jane. Now let me read the paper. There’s some bread and things in the fridge.”

  I nodded. I didn’t feel hungry at all. I hated that tiny fridge and crummy microwave. I wanted to go home more than anything.

  The days passed simply enough—a quiet, maddening routine. Ian only left at night to run down to the liquor stores and gas stations for food. I was living like a fugitive, and in reality—I was a fugitive, wasn’t I? Making up elaborate lies to tell the cop at the restaurant and then running away in an unregistered vehicle when he didn’t believe me. I sighed at these thoughts.

  “Are you okay?” Ian asked.

  I just looked at him but didn’t respond.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  A knock on the hotel door interrupted, and both of us looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Ian signaled me to stay silent. I nodded. Fantastic. They must have found us. But what if it wasn’t the cops? What if it was something…worse? Much worse? My limbs started trembling.

  Ian looked through the peephole on the door, and he had the strangest reaction.

  “Jane?” he whispered. “Have you spoken to anyone? Told anyone where we are?”

  “I don’t even know where we are,” I whispered back. “So…no.”

  “Well”—his voice was no longer a whisper—“then explain this.”

  He opened the door, and there he was—expressionless, frozen still. I tried to think straight, to say something, but everything was spinning. I tried to sit down, but it was too late. I fainted, landing on the floor of the hotel room at Ian’s feet.

  It was Ian’s face I saw when I came to. It took me a moment to remember where I was and what I had seen.

  No, no, no, I thought. Please let this be a dream. Please let me wake up.

  “Jane?”

  Oh God. That voice, that word. My head was spinning again. He came to sit beside me.

  “Jane, I’m here to help,” he said.

  I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t even know who he was anymore. I tried to respond.

  “Aidan…” No sound came out.

  “Yes?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m here to help,” he repeated.

  “Couldn’t you have sent someone?” Ian said.

  Aidan shook his head. “You know me. I needed to do this myself.”

  “How did you find us?”

  “I followed the man who is tracking you.”

  “Tracking us?” I yelled.

  He nodded. “That’s why I’m here.”

  Just perfect—more trouble, more running, more danger. More, more, more of everything I was praying to have end. Just perfect! I was almost enraged.

  “Please,” Aidan started. “I know that look all too well.”

  I noticed I was practically baring my teeth at him.

  “Goddamn wonderful,” I muttered under my breath. He seemed to have heard me but just sighed and stood up, turning toward Ian.

  “We—well, you anyway—need to leave.”

  “If they are tracking us, they’ll just follow,” he answered.

  Aidan nodded. “Yes, well…do you know how to fight?”

  Ian nodded. “I can take care of myself for the most part.”

  “But…what about her?” Aidan asked, pointing to me without looking at me.

  God, was he real? I felt like I was going insane seeing strange apparitions of the past or perhaps just visions from a fading dream—or nightmare. I didn’t even hear Ian’s response.

  “You can’t tell me you didn’t know this could happen,” Aidan said forcefully.

  I saw Ian just shake his head. “I did know it was a possibility. How many?”

  Aidan sighed. “Well, I didn’t get that past you.” I heard him containing laughter—so like him.

  Ian just nodded. “If there were only one, I would believe you’d take care of it.”

  He nodded. “I would have, yes. Dorian and Abraham are both dead, which puts my mind at ease, but the radical followers are trying to regroup, which is why Walter and the others are regrouping as well. For now, we have a few more to take care of.”

  Ian’s face was blank, which confused me. I was going half crazy trying to figure out what he was thinking. Then he nodded—that was all, just one delicate, almost feeble nod.

  I was having difficulties keeping my thoughts sane. Aidan was so beautiful. He had his back to me, but I could still see the softness of his hands and the long, slender build of his legs and torso. He was perfect. It wasn’t possible for my mind to comprehend his beauty until I saw him again. My memory never quite did him justice. I sighed heavily, and Aidan turned to face me.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  I couldn’t make eye contact. I just ignored. I felt like I was having trouble breathing. I was almost gasping for air.

  “Here,” I heard Ian say. He handed me a bottle of water from the tiny fridge in the corner of the room.

  “Thanks,” I whispered weakly.

  “I’m sorry,” Aidan whispered.

  I finally looked into his eyes and noticed they were dark, not the vibrant green color I was used to. He sighed and put his hand over my own. I didn’t react, at least not out loud, but my mind was assaulting me with a loud screeching sound—like the sound of a car burning rubber on a highway. He moved his hand away.

  “I didn’t mean to barge in on you like this.” He moved his gaze to Ian.

  Ian stared back at him with an almost nervous chaos in his eyes.

  “Wait,” Aidan stammered. “Are you…?”

  Aidan moved his eyes back to mine.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, slightly shaking my head, trying to tell him without speaking that I didn’t understand what he was saying. He looked at Ian again then back at me.

  “You’re… Are you and Jane…?”

  “Oh!” Ian cried. “No, no. It isn’t… Jane and I aren’t…”

  I chuckled, realizing what he was
thinking. “Ian was sent to protect me. It isn’t like that.”

  Aidan nodded. “O-okay.”

  I shook my head, smiling.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It isn’t really my business.”

  I didn’t respond. It wasn’t his business, but I liked that it bothered him, liked it a lot more than I should have. I tried to change the subject.

  “So what do we do?”

  It was Aidan who replied. “I have some things I need to see to. People I need some words with.”

  “When will you be back?” Ian asked. He sounded very calm, yet I could see he was reluctant to trust him.

  “Soon,” he answered.

  “Well, here,” Ian started, handing him the room key. “Take this.”

  Aidan nodded and slipped the card into his pocket.

  “Thanks.”

  I couldn’t stop the tears streaming down my face. Though they were slow and silent, I still couldn’t hide them from Ian. He came to sit beside me.

  “I wasn’t even sure if he was real.”

  He nodded and put his arm around me. I automatically leaned against his chest, and he stroked my hair. It felt wonderful to be comforted.

  I looked at him, and he had this strange expression on his face. It was like he wanted to ask me something but was terrified of what I would say. He just stared at me solidly, not averting his gaze and remaining unnaturally stagnant. It almost felt like I knew what he was thinking, like I could hear his thoughts but was unable to detect the words.

  He moved closer and held my face in his hands. I saw a very timid smile slowly spread across his face, softening his features. I half smiled in return. He leaned forward, and our lips met. It was soft and brief, but when he realized I hadn’t pulled away, he moved back toward me. His lips were warm and inhumanly soft. Even as he deepened the kiss and parted his lips, I didn’t pull away—I couldn’t. Something felt right.

  I ran my fingers through his hair. It wasn’t like Danny’s. His skin wasn’t like Danny’s. He wasn’t Danny in any way, was he? So why couldn’t I let myself care for Ian? What reason was there for me to deny my infatuation for him? He wasn’t Danny, and he never would be.