Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set

by Colleen Gleason

  “Our sofa,” Sam said.

  “What?” she asked, still trapped in that blue gaze. It made her dizzy, what she saw there, what she knew better than to believe.

  “He means the sofa belongs to both of you,” Justin offered helpfully.

  “Thanks, buddy,” Sam replied.

  Justin turned you’re welcome eyes on Maggie, as if he’d just solved a bigger mystery that she should thank him for, too. At last, she broke free of Sam’s hypnotic hold.

  “Time to get ready for school, Jus.”

  Justin hopped down, startling Minnie who unfurled from the foot of the couch. Sam shot the cat a disgusted, incredulous look.

  “You,” he said.

  Minnie stretched sensationally, gave Sam a cool yowl, and sauntered off.

  “When did we get that cat?” Sam asked in a dark voice.

  “After you left. Don’t take her attitude personally. Minnie hates everyone.”

  “Just like Lexi,” Justin said.

  “I don’t hate everyone,” Lexi piped in, coming down the stairs dressed in tight jeans and a t-shirt, eyes lined in bright blue with a clumsy hand. “Just you, dingus.”

  Sighing, Maggie headed for the kitchen.

  CHAPTER 8

  For the Reaper, the next five days went something like the first. Much to his disappointment, the ghost hadn’t reappeared so he’d had no chance to learn more about who “she” was. After Maggie cleaned the closet, Justin returned to his room. He didn’t have much of a choice—he knew Maggie would have questioned it if he’d refused and the little man didn’t want to worry her. He managed to hide his reluctance from everyone else, but before he went to bed, he hugged the Reaper and whispered, “You promise you won’t let her get me, Dad?”

  Justin’s earnest use of Dad still brought a hard knot to a place beneath his breast bone. He wanted to swear to this child that no one—nothing—would ever harm him again. But by the very act of being there, an imposter father with goals that were far from altruistic, the Reaper was hurting Justin.

  And when the time came for the Reaper to take Sam Sloan and return to the Beyond ... what then? Who would stand between Justin and danger when the Reaper was gone? The child would be devastated over being abandoned again. Lexi, too, although to a smaller degree. She’d never let him in.

  And Maggie ... What would she feel when he left her?

  “I won’t let it get you, Justin,” he said gravely, feeling like he’d fallen into a pit of quicksand he couldn’t escape. Each nuance of this human façade pulled him deeper. He still didn’t have answers and with every passing hour, it became easier to think of himself as Sam. Not the Reaper ... Sam. Sometimes he did it without even realizing.

  If he didn’t get out of this body soon, he never would. Worse, he feared he wouldn’t want to. Maggie was an irresistible enticement, but the children ... the unit they made as a family ... it filled something inside him that he hadn’t known was lacking.

  He was still relegated to the couch at night, but that didn’t really matter. He spent the long hours of dark awake, patrolling the house, making sure everyone under his care was safe.

  The irony of that did not escape him.

  When he did finally sleep, he awakened with a stiff neck and a yearning so deep he could barely contain it. He didn’t understand the changes at work within him, but even reapers were sentient enough to recognize that a metamorphosis had taken place. He’d never be the same.

  So far, he’d seen no sign that he was missed in the Beyond, though he waited, expecting harsh, unrelenting retaliation at any moment. By fault or accident, he’d broken the most important law of the Beyond: No mixing with humans. Most humans had never even heard of the Beyond. Those that had mistook it for heaven ... or hell, depending on their perspective. They didn’t understand that it was a world, whole unto itself. It was both of those things and, at the same, it was neither.

  He wasn’t the first to break the laws of the Beyond, though. He’d heard rumors of another Reaper who’d taken things a step too far and stolen a body for his own purposes. Until now, he hadn’t understood how that could happen. If it was true, he could surmise that it had ended badly. He expected the same cruel end for himself, even though he was a prisoner in this body, not a thief. Retribution from the Beyond was dealt in black and white. Shades of gray didn’t matter.

  But deep down, he had no regrets. In a small amount of time since he’d opened his eyes in this human body, he’d experienced a spectrum of emotion that had illuminated his world. He didn’t like half of the feelings that kept him occupied—the inexplicable angst whenever Maggie walked by and he couldn’t touch her; the bewildering need to make her smile; the endless longing to hold her against him; the frustration of not knowing what would happen if she let him.

  He understood the mechanics of copulation. He’d reaped men and women in the throes of passion countless times. But now he knew on a cellular, human, level, that the experience would be entirely different from this side of the equation. In this world, everything came layered in complexity and sentiments.

  This body yearned to mate with Maggie, but he knew she would require an emotional connection that Sam—the Reaper—who or whatever he’d become—feared he’d be unable to make.

  What if she found him lacking? What if he couldn’t live up to the expectation her human husband had set?

  He probed that hollow place that housed the remnants of Sam Sloan and found what he always did, echoes of incomplete memory. His childhood was there in chips and splinters. A smiling mother who smelled of soap and, inexplicably, apples. A doting father who’d had more muscle then brain. There’d been a sister at one time, but she’d died in a car crash when she was twenty-eight. Sam had met his first wife, Janet, at the funeral.

  And there the memories dried up in the drought-stricken land of Sam’s psyche. He couldn’t even picture his ex-wife’s face. He didn’t remember the birth of their children, the divorce that had left them in his custody, or the years that came after.

  But he remembered meeting Maggie that day in front of the coffee shop.

  Maggie ...

  As if summoned she walked through the front door, dressed in clingy pants that lovingly hugged every curve and a loose top that hung to her hips. Sneakers covered her feet and all that gorgeous hair had been pulled back in a ponytail that bobbed with each step. She’d just taken Justin to the bus stop and her cheeks were flushed from her walk. She had more makeup on than usual. Was she hiding sleepless nights beneath her mask?

  He finished his lazy inspection at her eyes. Humans called it the window to the soul. He believed it, looking into hers, but he wondered what she saw as she gazed back. Did she suspect his soul was borrowed?

  He moved to stand in front of her, remembering how it felt to hold her in his arms. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “The same thing I’m always thinking,” she answered, making herself a cup of coffee. Finished, she faced him. “That I’m stuck in some bizarre hiatus. I don’t have a clue what happens next.”

  “What do you want to happen?” he asked.

  She sighed, took a sip of coffee, eyed him from beneath her lashes. “I don’t know. Maybe I just want things to make sense.”

  “Things? You mean like me?” he asked warily.

  “And me.” She lifted one shoulder and tilted her head, still watching him. “Do you know ... When you asked me to marry you, I couldn’t say yes fast enough.”

  “Why?”

  She raised her brows, and he realized the question probably sounded strange to her. Presumably, she’d fallen in love, that’s why.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Maggie. I can’t believe he—I’m the only man who’s noticed.”

  “Why do you do that? Refer to yourself in third person?”

  His face grew hot as he tried to come up with a reasonable explanation. “Maybe I feel disconnected from who I am.”

  “And who is that? Because you’re not the same man who lef
t.”

  In ways she couldn’t even imagine, but he certainly didn’t want to take her down that path. She didn’t know the truth and no guess in the world would bring her to it. “What about the man you couldn’t wait to marry?”

  She shook her head. “You’re not him either. I don’t know who you are.”

  She looked lost and sad. He’d put that sorrow in her eyes and he wished he knew how to take it away. Gently, Sam—the Reaper, he corrected himself anxiously—took her shoulders between his hands. Surprised, her gaze rose to meet his as her hands came up to his chest. She meant to push him away, but the pressure eased after a moment and her fingers just rested there.

  “Tell me about us,” he murmured.

  “Why do you keep asking that? Don’t you want to know other things?”

  “Like?”

  “What you do for a living? If your father is still alive—”

  “No. I only want to know about you and me.”

  “Okay,” she said, drawing it out. “What should I tell you?”

  “Everything. How did I win you?”

  A small smile curled her lips. “I’m not a prize.”

  He could argue that, but didn’t see the point. Already he’d discerned that Maggie didn’t consider herself a “catch.”

  “You didn’t have to do much. After we met—”

  “Collided.”

  Another almost-smile. “After that, we just stood there and talked. You bought me another cup of coffee and we talked some more. For hours. I gave you my phone number, you called me that night and I ...” She laughed softly. “I became addicted to you. I’d say I was obsessed, but it went both ways. At least, I thought it did. You seemed as into me as I was you.”

  “At the hospital, you said you weren’t surprised to see me there. Why?”

  She blushed. His face was close to hers and he could almost feel the heat.

  “I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, Sam.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” he murmured. “For all of the things I can’t remember doing. I must have been insane to leave you.”

  But even as he said it, he realized a reason for that insanity had begun to surface in his mind. It was shadowed and vague, and yet it felt right. A threat had come to this house since Sam had surfaced in the hospital. What if it had been here before? What if Sam had left to draw it away?

  She met his eyes, hers wide and hurt. “Why did you ask for me?” she whispered.

  It took him a moment to follow. “You mean at the hospital?”

  She nodded. “I hadn’t heard from you in months. Not that I’m complaining about that, but suddenly, you’re back, with a gunshot and asking for me. Being nice to me. And I keep waiting for the punch line, Sam. I know I can’t keep punishing you for something you don’t even remember, but I can’t pretend this is real. You could wake up tomorrow, remember everything, and leave me all over again.”

  “That’s not going to happen, Maggie,” he said, that knot back under his breastbone.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you’re right. I’m not the same man. Not anymore.”

  She was shaking her head, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Since the moment I saw you again, all of these blasted feelings keep surfacing. And then you didn’t die and—”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “You sure?”

  She sighed and her head fell forward. “I don’t even know anymore, Sam. I look in your eyes and I see ...”

  What? What did she see?

  “A stranger.”

  “I get that,” he said softly, shifting just a little more. Bringing her closer inch by inch. “I feel a little split in two, myself. But maybe that’s how it needs to be. I can’t undo what’s done. But I can be here for you now.”

  “See ...” she began with a headshake. “All those words sound right, but you’re asking for a leap of faith that I can’t take. You came into my life like a whirlwind, then you left the same way. I’ve spent the last year just trying to put the pieces back together and now here you are, and I feel like I got it all wrong.”

  “You deserve answers, Maggie. I know you do. I’m not asking you to just forget everything that happened in the past, but I’m telling you, somewhere deep inside me, I know it wasn’t a random thing. I left for a reason. And some instinct I can’t even identify is telling me that I did it to protect you.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. The smell of her skin filled him with calm while at the same time, it woke up his senses, making him want to taste. “Tell me about us, Maggie,” he said softly. “Help me remember what changed me.”

  “I don’t know if I can. We married so fast—”

  “Why?”

  “Because waiting seemed redundant. I’d never felt anything like it before. You made me feel wanted—not just physically,” she said, glancing up and quickly away, but not before he saw the heat in her eyes. “There was that, though. We were good together in ... Well, you know.”

  Not as much as he wanted to, but he let her go on at her own pace, content for the moment to be so near. To touch her.

  “You let me be a part of your family.”

  “What about your family?”

  “My parents died when I was in college. We’d never been that close, though. They were both academics. My dad studied ancient civilizations and my mother, women’s issues. They traveled all over the world. Sometimes they took me, but even then they were off to their presentations and faculty socials. Even when I was with them, they left me behind.”

  He heard the soft hitch in her voice and understood things she didn’t say. He’d wondered why such a young and beautiful woman would have given herself so freely to a man saddled with two children and a crazy ex-wife. Now he knew. Sam had included her. Or so she’d thought ... His leaving must have felt like the ultimate betrayal.

  “I loved them,” she said, almost defensively. As if he’d insisted otherwise.

  “I know.”

  “I didn’t realize I had so many abandonment issues, until you. First you made me feel whole. Then you ripped me apart.” She looked up at him. Into him.

  “I don’t want to be a stranger anymore, Maggie.”

  “You think it’s that easy?”

  “It could be.”

  He stared into her eyes, watching them widen. She licked her lips nervously and caught her breath as a soft groan escaped him. Waiting for her to push him away, he slid his hands down her shoulders and around to her back. Instead, she stood very still, hardly breathing. He was aware of the quiet house, the hours they had until the children would be home from school.

  “I died that day in the hospital,” he said.

  “I know,” she whispered. “The doctors told me that they’d brought you back.”

  He nodded, that hard feeling inside swelling. He should walk away, now, before he did more damage than he already had. But she smelled so sweet, felt so good, and his need for her had become so great.

  Now that he stood on the edge of what he wanted, though, he could see clearly to the other side. How could this end, but badly? Maggie had endured too much already.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, uncertain if he was apologizing for what he meant to do or what he’d already done.

  “Don’t be,” she said. “It’s not ... you’re different, now, and I’m still trying to figure it all out. But the first words you spoke were for me and I can’t forget that. If you tell me you meant it, that this isn’t some game ...”

  He could hardly breathe, hardly think, but didn’t require either. She needed a pledge, a promise and he wanted her to have it so badly that he found the words on his lips, refusing to be held back.

  “It’s not a game, Maggie.”

  She shook her head, but her gaze had fixed on his mouth and he took the chance before she changed her mind. Her lips were soft and silky. Against his, they felt like nothing he’d imagined and everything he’
d imagined. There were no memories of this in Sam’s banks and he was glad for that. He wanted this experience for his own. Sensations shot through him in sharp, hot waves, a torrent of passion and lightning.

  She made a soft sound of surrender in her throat, murmured something that sounded like, I’m a fool, and then her arms twined around his neck and she kissed him back.

  The feel of her; the smell of her, the sweet intoxicating scent ... All of it filled him, pushed out the vestiges of the man Sam had been, overwhelmed the foundation of the Reaper inside, and forced them both into the moment that was now. Here. Her. Him.

  Maggie tugged at his shirt, pulling it free of his jeans, then took his hand, leading him up the stairs and into the bedroom she’d banned him from. The door closed behind them. She locked it.

  “I want you so much that that I can hardly breathe,” he said, that hint of accent that only appeared at rare times adding a husky rasp to his voice. “I’ve been thinking about this since I opened my eyes. Since I came to life.”

  There were more words he should say, feelings begging for a voice, but the swamp of emotion made speaking an impossible feat.

  He took her face in his hands, kissing her like this life that he’d never expected to have depended on the breath he stole from her. She tugged at his shirt once more and he stepped back only long enough to strip it off.

  Her eyes molten, her pulse beating away at her throat, she stared at his bare chest with a hunger that threatened to consume him. His hands were big and clumsy as he gently pulled her shirt over her head when he wanted to rip it off. He dropped it on the floor and simply stared at the perfection he’d unveiled. Her skin was as smooth as alabaster, flawlessly beautiful. A bra the same shade as her skin held her breasts in an embrace of lace and satin. He touched one gently, groaning at the weight, the softness. He bent his head and covered it with his mouth, sucking the hard nipple, letting the lace rasp against his tongue, acting on instinct he didn’t question.

  “Take it off,” he asked, his voice so deep it throbbed against the quiet.

  She arched back, hands meeting between her shoulder blades as she unfastened the bra and shrugged it off. The stretchy pants came next without him even asking. She stood before him in dainty pearlescent panties and his body went up in flames.