Summers' Deceit (Hunters Trilogy Book 1)
Page 25
I deepened the kiss again, and his tongue passed between my lips, serpent-like, and my heart rate quickened. He moved his hands from my waist to my back and pulled me closer. I felt my body heat rise in temperature at the same time I felt his. What was this sudden urgency I was feeling? It had only ever been Aidan I had wanted to be this close to. Why was this okay? But it was okay. It was better than okay. Before I had even felt his weight over me, I felt the soft bed beneath me. The heat of his body was piercing through my clothes, feeling as if it would burn me alive—but I loved it.
His skin was almost shimmering in the dim light of the room, and it shown tawny or russet. It was maddening. I could feel the muscles in his chest and stomach harden and move against me until I wanted him so much it was driving me half insane. I wanted all of him and only for myself. For long minutes, we remained kissing almost violently with him on top of me. It seemed innocent enough, except for the thoughts in my head, the longing for more.
My thoughts were quickly stripped away when I heard the door open. Ian quickly moved away from me and toward the door. There were only silence and awkward stares. Nobody could say anything.
I wanted to yell out I didn’t lie to you. I swear! But I couldn’t say anything yet. I was humiliated by what he saw, by what he must have been thinking. What a tramp to get over me so quickly. That must have been what he was saying to himself. But it really wasn’t like that. I would never be over Aidan, but I had to move on, didn’t I? I had to eventually let myself care for someone other than him. I had to leave him in the past. That’s what was right. Yet it didn’t seem to matter what was right, not when I saw the devastation in his eyes.
Ian cleared his throat. “Um, you’re back. Did…did you take care of what you needed?”
I sat up and looked away.
“Uh…yeah,” he answered. “Yeah, it’s taken care of.”
“What did you find out?”
“That leaving wouldn’t be the best idea. That staying here and fighting would be better.”
“Fighting?” I cried, forgetting the discomfort that was consuming me only moments ago.
He nodded. “Yes, Jane, fighting.”
I could hear the irritation rocking through him, and his eyes were still dark. He didn’t look curiously innocent as he sometimes did but more agitated and hurt—hurt over what had happened with Ian. Although nothing really happened, there was no way Aidan could have known that.
My thoughts raced—thoughts of embarrassment, regret, and fear. Ian and Aidan and the obvious tension between them was bad enough, but on top of that discomfort was the realization that I didn’t know how to fight. What was I supposed to do?
“What—?”
“Jane, don’t worry about it,” Aidan interrupted. That was always a dead giveaway that I should be worried.
“I hate when you say that,” I replied quietly. I drew my knees up to my chest and rested my chin.
“Aidan and I will take care of it. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”
Great, I thought. Another day of sitting alone waiting for people I care about to return, not knowing for sure if they would. Just like the days at Luna’s when Aidan almost didn’t come back. I couldn’t stand going through that again.
“You can’t leave.” I yelled it before I could stop myself. I was on my feet instantly, almost clinging to Ian.
“He’s not,” Aidan hissed. “I am.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
He left Ian and me alone in the hotel. I could hardly look at Ian. I felt terrible about what had happened between us and, even worse, how much I had enjoyed it, how much I wanted it to lead to more. It couldn’t be that way.
He pretended as if nothing had changed. He sat there calm and composed, reading the paper as always.
“Where is Aidan going?” I asked, interrupting his reading as usual.
“I don’t know. He’ll take care of Abraham’s men. Don’t worry about them.”
“I’m not,” I murmured. “I’m not worried about them at all. I'm not worried about myself. I'm worried…I'm worried…about him.”
“He knows how to take care of himself.”
“Ian?”
He looked straight into my eyes.
“He’s protecting me. He’s protecting us.”
He smiled and nodded. “So perhaps I was wrong.” He chuckled. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“No,” I answered, mirroring his smile. “No, I just wanted you to see some good in him.”
He smiled. “I have.”
I lay back down on my bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for Aidan to come back. He already came back once. What if he didn’t come back again? What if this was the task to ultimately claim his life? What if this one fight would surely be his last?
“Jane?”
I looked over to see Ian sitting beside me on the bed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said, smiling, “but you’re doing it again.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m worried.”
He touched my shoulder. “I know, but sighing and fidgeting isn’t going to help.” He chuckled.
I just nodded, trying to calm my thoughts. Aidan would come back. He had to come back…right?
Three Months Later
I walked through the store with the shopping cart, picking up everything my mom had asked for as I went, thinking about Becky and what we would do as soon as she got here. She and Aaron were still together and actually doing great from what she had told me. Maybe she had actually found the one.
I was relieved that my mom didn’t ask too many questions about everything I had told her. She simply accepted it as fact and understood it wasn’t Jane Callahan’s active imagination this time. I couldn’t fabricate a single event or person. I told her everything—from meeting Aidan to running from the cops with Ian. I was terrified she wouldn’t believe me. She stared at me solidly, completely emotionless even when I began to softly cry. It wasn’t until I was finished with everything I had to say that she cried and hugged me until I couldn’t breathe. It was all okay, though. She understood better than I could have hoped. Becky knew everything and why I hadn’t been returning her phone calls; she wasn’t at all surprised.
Things just keep finding you, she had said.
The town here wasn’t too different than California. As far as where everything was, it wasn’t too hard to get used to it and find my way around. A reclusive town in Florida was where I was forced to stay. This time, however, it didn’t seem forced upon me. I liked being here. I had no choice. Why dwell on what you cannot change?
I was finished with that stage of my life. I just walked through that normal, neat little store, looking ahead and no longer behind. When I ended up in the shampoo aisle, I glanced at the shopping list again and noticed that the very specific brand of shampoo my mother wanted was—of course—on the very top shelf. Perfect. I could barely bring my fingers to brush the bottle. I stood on the lower shelf, softly kicking the paper towels over, and brushed my hair from my face. Typical of me, I stumbled down off the shelf, bringing the entire thing with me.
I put my arms up in front of my face when I saw the shelf leaning toward me. A few moments later, I realized nothing had happened, and I lowered my arms and opened my eyes. I saw pale, soft-looking hands easily reaching the bottles and reorganizing the shelf. He handed me the purple bottle and smiled a flawless, breathtaking smile. His green eyes had me captivated to the point where I couldn’t speak at all. I choked on my breath.
“Hi,” he said, in that perfect voice, lending out his hand. “I’m Morgan Wright.”
Epilogue
Styles sighed and placed the case file in the drawer and headed back to his desk. He picked up a cigarette and placed it between his teeth, at this point considering lighting it. His thoughts were erased for a moment when he saw a boy enter the building. He was young, no older than eighteen. He had light brown hair and striking green eyes. Styles watched as the boy approached him, comp
osed and expressionless. He halted in front of the detective and nodded his head as if bowing.
“May I help you?”
The boy nodded. “My name is Josh Alexander. I have information on the death of Daniel Callahan and the disappearance of Sharon Walters.”
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Books in the Hunters Trilogy
Summers’ Deceit
Summers’ Shadow
Summers’ Redemption
About the Author
Sara J Bernhardt is an author and poet who has been writing since a very young age and is a winner of several poetry and short story contests. She lives in Southern California with her husband and cat. It is clear that Bernhardt writes in a realistic tone while still creating the enthralling feeling of fantasy. Her writing puts readers in a world that they will truly love to be a part of.
You can follow Sara at these locations:
Facebook: www.facebook.com/Sara-J-Bernhardt
Amazon: www.amazon.com/Sara-J.-Bernhardt
Website: www.sjbernhardt.com
Acknowledgments
All of my thanks and appreciation go to my husband, the first person to read this book and my biggest fan. Thank you for always believing in me.
And for Annie-Belle, my Becky. Thank you for all the hours of critique and advice, helping make this book what it is today.
My editor, Kathy Moczerniak, for all her hard work and suggestions that made this as good as it could be. You are truly amazing.
Special thanks to my family who always supported my passion and encouraged me to follow my dreams.
Thank you to all my readers and fans. You help keep me inspired and motivated. I hope reading this brings you as much joy as it brought me writing it.