by Cora Kenborn
Someone carves a path, and hands try to guide me toward Malcolm’s waiting limo. After the exchange between Cary and me, the paparazzi have become even more blood-thirsty, calling out both our names.
“Cary Kincaid! What do you have to say about the allegations against you concerning your alleged embezzlement from Shiloh West?”
“Cary! Is it true you conspired with Taryn McDaniel to send Shiloh West to a California state prison?”
The heart I thought I no longer had twists in my chest. He looks so agitated. Like a fish out of water, ready to shove their cameras up their asses. There’s an art to handling paparazzi. A fineness that is learned from years in the spotlight.
Cary’s not going to learn it in thirty seconds.
Before anyone can stop me, I run back to him and grab his hand. I refuse to contemplate the consequences of what I’m doing as I pull him with me toward the waiting limo. His hand squeezes mine initially—his fiercely tight hold reminding me of that night in the locker room.
But then his grip loosens and he releases my hand, coming to a complete stop before we reach the curb. I turn around to ask him what the hell he’s doing when I catch his eye. It’s not angry or remorseful. It’s proud, and I immediately understand.
Carrick Kincaid grew up in a modest house in a less-than desirable neighborhood in Myrtle Beach. His parents barely scraped by running a cheap, run-down motel that survived on the random vacationer and destructive Spring Break kids. He was bused into the Coastal Shores school district as part of a redistricting initiative to diversify the income levels of schools in Horry County.
He worked two jobs in school to help his family pay for his sister’s medical bills, one of them being landscaper for my family. He didn’t have money, but he had his pride.
Cary Kincaid is every bit as proud as Carrick Kincaid ever was.
That’s why he won’t get in my limo. It’s why he won’t allow me to hide him away like some dirty little secret. Cary will stand up and answer for his sins like a proud man should.
We share one more lingering glance before he turns around and makes his way through the crowd with his head held high. I can’t do anything but watch, and when the last dot of him disappears, I allow Will and Bianca to lead me away as I lift my chin and do the exact same thing.
Thirty-Eight
Shiloh
Even though he was the one to walk away from me this time, deep down I had a feeling it wasn’t the last I’d see of him. My suspicions are confirmed two nights later.
After leaving the police station, Malcolm drove every backroad in town, trying to dodge relentless paparazzi for over an hour. Thankfully, we made it back home before they set up in front of the house. Not long after, Will called to tell me that since they’d camped out in front of the community center too, Cary had made the decision to shut it down for the rest of the week. Apparently, I was free to spend the time reacclimating myself as a civilian.
A crack of thunder hits, and I silently count to five before a bolt of lightning brightens the night sky. Crawling off my bed, I move to the window, stopping just before I draw the curtains. It’s pitch black outside, but I can still see the rain as it pounds against my bedroom window. Most people hate thunderstorms. I’ve always loved them. There’s a chaotic peacefulness about them that grounds me.
My phone rings again for the eleventh time today, and for the eleventh time, I silence it. I’d turn the damn thing off, but I’m expecting a call from Lena and don’t want to miss it. Tossing it on my nightstand, I flop back onto my bed and press the heels of my hands against my closed eyelids. Cary’s been blowing my phone up with calls and texts for the past forty-eight hours, and even though I’ve ignored every one of them, he’s been relentless. I haven’t listened to any of them.
Not because I don’t care. Quite the opposite, actually. I care too much. I know once I fall down that rabbit hole, there will be no coming back out. I’ll forgive him and we’ll repeat the same cycle over again. We’re a powerful poison running through each other’s veins. Maybe separate we’ll survive, but together we’ll end up destroying each other. Not intentionally, of course, but it’ll happen. One piece at a time until there’s nothing left.
As another loud crack of thunder hits, I roll over and glance at my alarm clock.
Twelve thirty-seven.
With thoughts of him all jumbled in my head, I know sleep isn’t coming for me anytime soon, so I head toward my adjoined bathroom for my third shower of the day. However, halfway across the room, a familiar warmth spreads over me.
Like so many other times before, I feel him. Turning around, I walk in a daze toward my window like a moth drawn to the flame. Lightning flashes in the background, and I see him clearly. He’s standing in my backyard, staring up at my third-floor window with his hands shoved in the pockets of his black jeans. He’s drenched, his white t-shirt stuck to his body, and his dark hair hanging over his nose like a mask. Our eyes connect and something breaks inside of me.
Time reverses, and I can’t breathe. Seven years ago, he stood in this same spot. In the same color shirt and pants. Drenched from the same kind of thunderstorm with rain dripping down his face.
“What are you gonna do—stand out here in the rain and guard me like some stray dog?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you so obsessed with me, Carrick?”
“I’m not obsessed, but making sure you rest peacefully tonight will allow me to do it tomorrow.”
“You can’t save me.”
“Then I’ll just protect you.”
He wasn’t calling to demand another chance. He was calling to check on me. If I still had a heart, I’d close the curtains and walk away, forcing him to open a vein and let my poison drain out. If I still had a heart I’d do all those things, but I can’t because it’s standing outside my window.
I hurry down two flights of steps, through the foyer and living room, across the newly mopped kitchen floor, and out the back door. He hasn’t moved from the spot where he was standing, his eyes steady on me as if he knew I’d come.
I run as my bare feet hit the wet grass, stopping a couple feet in front of him. The rain becomes heavier, pelting against my face like one big sheet and drenching my pale yellow nightgown. It’s only then that his gaze drops, his breathing growing heavy as his eyes roam over my body.
“You have to go home, Cary.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is hoarse—almost as if he’s been standing out in the rain far longer than I realized.
“Are you crazy?” I whisper-shout. “If Bianca catches you creeping around here in the middle of the night, she’ll pull the trigger first and ask questions later.”
“You wouldn’t answer my calls.”
“So you decided to stand in the middle of a lightning storm and hope I’d come to my senses before you got electrocuted?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he says with a slight smirk. “I was counting on you being a creature of habit.”
Fucking dick. Here I am, running out into a goddamn rainstorm because I’m worried about him, and he’s using one of my most cherished memories against me.
“God, you’re so…” Frustrated, I throw my hands in the air and turn to leave. “Go home, Cary.”
Grabbing my elbow, he spins me back around. “What’s with you, Shiloh? When you took my hand outside the station, I thought maybe things could go back to the way they were, but then you freeze me out for two days. Is this still about the money? I’ve already apologized, and I told you I’ll return every penny of that—”
“Christ, here we go again about the goddamn money,” I interrupt, rolling my eyes. “Will you get over that already?”
“How the hell can I get over it when you’re going to keep punishing me for—”
I scream because after all this time, he still doesn’t get it. “For fuck’s sake, I knew about the money all along, all right?”
It’s like a blanket suddenly drapes over his
face, turning his expression to stone. “What the hell did you just say?”
“Jesus, Cary, how stupid do you think I am? Do you think I didn’t know what I was doing that night? I know what I put back in my purse and what I didn’t.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, that can’t be true.”
“Come on, think about it. How convenient is it that my checkbook just happened to fall out of my purse right as I got out of your car?” Giving him a look meant to cut through our constant bullshit, I lower my voice. “Cary, I gave you the push you needed.”
“You set me up?” He takes a step backward.
I shake my head. “No, I forced you to take something on your terms that you refused to take on mine. I asked you so many times why you’d willingly take Taryn’s money but refuse to take mine. You could never give me an answer. You still can’t.”
“But the media…you allowed me to be publicly humiliated.”
“It was never supposed to get that far. Your alliance with Taryn got me arrested before I could fire my publicist for his stunt at the Rugged Maniac Race. I figured if you ever wanted to tell me, then we’d talk about it, but honestly, Cary, I never gave two shits if you did or didn’t. As far as I was concerned that money was yours.”
“You knew I took it, but you still set up the donation to the center and paid my parents’ debt? Why?”
Even through the pouring rain, I can hear the thump-thump of my heart. I wonder if he can hear it too.
“Because I knew you’d probably get a conscience and not use it, so I had to have a backup plan. Plus, that wasn’t for you,” I answer with a sad smile. “That was for me.”
Cary fists his hands by his side, his anger escalating. “You put me through hell.”
“It’s a dry heat. You’ll get used to it.”
“I should hate you,” he seethes, stepping forward again. “I should hate you so goddamn much.”
I meet him step for step. “Well, at least there’s a concept I’m familiar with.”
“Fuck you for making me go against everything I stand for. Just fuck you, Shiloh.”
“Yeah?” I counter with a snarl. “Well, take a number, baby. It’s a long line.”
We glare at each other. In the pale glow of the security light, his eyes are dark and unreadable. His mouth drops open as his tongue darts out to lick a raindrop off his lip ring. That simple act, so insignificant, sends a bolt of desire racing down my spine, puckering my nipples against my wet nightgown.
My body’s response doesn’t escape Cary’s heated stare, and the instant he shifts, my vision blurs. We come together like a force of nature. Like two magnets unable to control the torque drawing them together. My hands tangle in his dripping hair as he reaches under my soaked nightgown and lifts me up by my ass.
My legs automatically wrap around his waist as he kisses me, his tongue demanding entrance, as if it were an extension of his cock. We devour each other with ferocious intensity, the primal heat between us like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
Reaching behind me, I grab his hand and guide it between my legs as his fingers slide easily between my slick folds. “This is you. Every time this is what you do to me, and it scares me to death.”
He sucks air through his teeth, the blue in his eyes completely gone. “We’re going to rip each other apart.”
“I’m already in pieces,” I groan, rocking against him. “Finish me.”
Saying nothing, he turns us both and stalks toward the pool house. I let out a loud grunt as my back collides against the door. Digging his knee into the wood between my legs, he grinds his hips against mine. I’m suspended, barely breathing as he gropes the ivy-lined molding along the top of the doorframe. Finally finding what he’s looking for, he jams a silver key into the lock and with one turn, the door swings open, and I go with it.
Cary stumbles with me inside the darkened room, letting me slide down his body as he kicks the door closed. Taking my head in his hands, he backs me up until I’m flush against the door.
“What do you want, Starshine?” His eyes are predatory, and I shiver.
“You.”
“How do you want it?”
I don’t hesitate. “Brutal.”
A deliberate smile breaks across his face. “What a coincidence.”
Maybe should’ve chosen another word because the minute Cary’s lips slam against mine, his hand pushes my legs apart and pumps two fingers inside me with an intent to take and claim.
I can’t see. I can’t think. All I can do is feel and climb higher, riding a wave of intensity that has me teetering right on the edge of a cliff. I’m panting. I’m screaming his name against his lips, and just as I’m about to tumble into the depths, he stops.
Devastated, I grasp his shoulders. “What the hell?”
Ignoring me, Cary rips open his pants and shoves them down his thighs. He’s standing before me, strong, powerful, and in need. His cock is swollen and hard against his stomach.
He’s right. We’re going to rip each other apart.
Grabbing both of my arms, Cary pins them over my head with one hand and jerks my nightgown up around my waist. Never taking his eyes off me, he hitches my leg around his hip until I’m immobile. All I can do is wait for him to say something.
Only he doesn’t.
Bending his knees, he gives one hard thrust and I scream. He’s too big to take all at once and I’m not ready for him. My body revolts, clamping down and denying him any further access.
“Let me in, Shiloh,” he groans. Pulling out slightly, he pushes the rest of the way in, forcing my body to accept him.
I’m in shock, unable to speak or even breathe as he delivers a series of thrusts that leave me panting. Just as he promised, every stroke is brutal. Every drive is as fucked up as we are.
“Cary…” I finally manage say.
“Do you know why I didn’t let you come before, Starshine?” he growls as he changes his angle, pumping so that the metal ball of his piercing rubs against my sensitive walls. “Because if we can’t say the words, we’re gonna fucking feel them.”
His words are my undoing. I scream his name until I’m hoarse, bursts of light blinding me as my body splinters and breaks. At the same time, I’m gasping for air, his body jerks, and he buries his face in the hollow of my neck, growling as he empties himself inside me.
We’re both quiet as the air in the room thickens with the smell of sex and regret. Cary finally slides his chin down from my neck and lowers me to my feet. We stand there in an extremely uncomfortable silence, me shoving my nightgown down my legs as the evidence of what we’ve just done drips down the inside of my thigh. However, Cary could give a shit. He just stands there with his semi-hard dick hanging out like this isn’t awkward at all.
When he makes no move to say anything, I know it’s up to me to be the adult.
Sighing, I walk over to a small closet in the corner of the room and pull out two huge beach towels. Handing one to Cary, I wrap the other tightly around my body, an unspoken symbol of what I’m about to say.
“This can never happen again, Cary. We’re poison to each other. Don’t you see that?”
He pauses in the middle of zipping his pants. “Poison? Is that what you call what we just did?”
“No. I call it goodbye.”
Thirty-Nine
Cary
I’m not sure I hear her right. “What the hell do you mean, goodbye?”
She hugs the beach towel around her chest, tugging on a loose thread at the top. “Come on, Cary, don’t make me do this.”
Although the room is dark, there’s a dim glow coming from the security light attached to the main house. Through the shadows, I can make out the sturdy wooden table backed up against the far wall with the square-shaped mirror hanging above it. It’s the room that time forgot, and the one I can’t.
“Don’t make you what?” I demand, finishing zipping up my jeans as I shift my focus back to her. “Stay and for once in your l
ife answer for what you’re doing instead of firing a gun and walking away?”
Yeah, that was harsh, but I’m not in the mood to sugar coat shit.
“You’re just trying to hurt me now.”
“Jesus, Shiloh, do you think we made love here of all places on accident?” I swing an arm out, gesturing all around us.
“We fucked, Cary,” she insists, her voice monotone. “We got carried away. It means nothing.”
I can tell she’s trying to keep her face blank, but for the first time, I notice something I’ve never seen before. As her hands clench the towel, she crosses and uncrosses her index and middle fingers on both hands so slightly that if I hadn’t been focused on her, I would’ve have seen it. Back and forth. Over and under. It’s distracting as hell, and I’m about to tell her to knock it off when it hits me.
It’s Shiloh’s tell. I just had to wait until her walls broke down enough to see when she’s lying.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” I take a few steps closer, my discovery strengthening my resolve. “You told me outside that what I do to you scares you to death. That’s nothing compared to what you’ve done to me.”
Agitated, she releases one hand from the towel to brush away handful of the wet hair plastered to her forehead. “Me? Cary, I just got home from four days behind bars. What the hell have I done to you scare you?”
Two more steps and I’m right in front of her. “You made me love you all over again, and now you’re throwing it all away.” I’m yelling now, but I don’t give a damn. I’m way past dancing around this with her. “You’re not scared of me. You’re scared of giving up enough control to let me in. Damn it, Shiloh, how many times are you going to rob me of my future?”
“Future?”