Into the Rain

by Smith, Fleur

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2017 by Michelle Irwin writing as Fleur Smith

  Second Edition December 2017

  Published in Australia

  Cover Artist: Desiree De’Orto

  Cover content used for illustrative purposes only, and any person depicted is a model.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. The following story is set in the USA and therefore has been written in US English. The spelling and usage reflect that.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and for all other inquiries, contact:

  Michelle Irwin P O Box 671 MORAYFIELD QLD 4506 AUSTRALIA

  www.michelle-irwin.com

  writeonshell@outlook.com

  CONTENTS

  COPYRIGHT

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE RIGHT HOOK of my attacker came hard and fast. Without hesitation, I leaped to the side and spun around, readying myself to retaliate. Following a nimble arc, I dropped to the floor and swept my leg out to the side in an attempt to knock him off-balance.

  A slight mistiming on my part allowed him to leap over the swinging limb at the last second. A frustrated grunt slipped from my lips, but I didn’t stop. Bouncing back onto my feet as fast as I could, I watched him closely. He aimed another blow at my chest. At the last second, I twisted sharply to the side to avoid it.

  My movement carried me around in a graceful loop behind him. When I closed in on him, I threw my elbow out to the side to try to catch a weak spot—any one of them would do. A hit to the kidney or solar plexus would deliver the most pain and slow him down.

  His leg lifted in a roundhouse kick, designed to knock me off-balance, but I twisted out of his way before meeting a pair of irises so brown they could almost be black. The action caused a temporary lull in our battle, barely enough for a deep breath, before his fist shot out toward me again.

  Our limbs flew at each other repeatedly, striking and deflecting in turn with a rapid pace and such precision that our movements were like a fast, macabre dance.

  My limbs ached and protested, begging for a break from the rigorous battle. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep up the fight, but I refused to reveal even a single symptom of my fatigue. Any vulnerability could see me hurt.

  Lifting my elbow, I deflected his next punch with my forearm, before aiming a jab of my own at his side. The instant my arm closed in on his body, he grabbed my wrist and used my momentum against me. He twisted me around before tugging me closer, slamming my back against his chest. For a moment, we were still.

  He exhaled and the warm air tickled along my neck. His breath was a soft pant that barely showed any sign of laboring despite our fight. I had two choices: surrender to his hold and take whatever punishment came with failure, or continue to fight and do everything in my power to break free.

  His hands closed around mine, pinning my arms against my chest. Panic surged through me as I struggled to free myself; I had to find a way to get the upper hand. Each time I moved, he was able to strengthen his hold. My continued fight only tightened his grip. Stilling all motion, I silently ran through the training I’d had for this exact scenario.

  Taking a slow, deep breath, I relaxed against his enfolded arms. Another breath and I forced my joints and muscles to release all tension. I paused, allowing him to think he’d bested me. As soon as the moment was right, I propelled the top half of my body forward in a sharp motion, forcing my weight against his arms to break his hold.

  Leaping away from him before he could reach for me again, I kicked my foot behind me, sweeping it under his leg. At the same time, I reached for his wrist and held it tight. Twisting my body and tugging sharply at his arm, I threw him over my leg and onto the ground.

  The instant his back hit the floor I dropped over him and pressed my knee to his chest.

  “Surrender?” I wasn’t going to give him mercy until he begged for it. He’d come so close to winning, but now I had the advantage.

  Pressing as much weight as I dared behind my knee, I stole a moment to catch my breath. Staring into the astounded but proud eyes of my attacker, my mouth widened into a triumphant grin.

  “Awesome.” Clay smiled up at me from his position underneath my leg. He cupped my calf with his palm, running it up and down along the outside of my workout pants. Pride, and a growing desire, echoed in his gaze. “You’ve got that throw down perfectly.”

  It wasn’t the surrender I’d asked for, but it was close enough for me. At least it was a welcome change from the dicktator he’d been when we’d first started training. He’d certainly embraced my request for some extra fun in our training. Moving to straddle his hips, I shifted my legs to either side of his body. “Well, I did have a really good teacher.”

  “Really? You’ll have to introduce me to him sometime.” He lifted himself into an almost seated position, resting on his elbows. A wicked grin lit his face.

  “Oh? And here I thought you were rather well acquainted with yourself.”

  “I can’t take all of the credit. You’re a quick study. You’ve mastered more moves in six months than I’ve seen some people do in years.”

  I raised my eyebrow at him. “You’re trying that flattery thing again, aren’t you?”

  “Well, when you’re on a winning streak . . .” He trailed off into a quiet laugh.

  I leaned forward over him, pressing my lips to his for the tiniest moment before sitting up again. When I did, his lower lip pushed out into a pout that earned him a giggle. Pinning me against his hips with his hold, he pulled himself completely into a seated position. I swallowed heavily as his contracting abs brushed across my inner thighs. Even though I’d tried to be subtle, Clay noticed the action and chuckled again before wrapping his arms around my waist. He held me close for a moment, resting his cheek against my chest. Despite sparring relentlessly for the past forty minutes, he didn’t seem to be as out of breath as I was. Or even remotely tired for that matter.

  I don’t know how he does it.

  It wasn’t a bad thing though. I for one could go a round or two of our other, much more enjoyable, tussling.

  “You still haven’t surrendered,” I reminded him as I brushed my hands through his hair dragging his head back away from my body so I could meet his eyes.

  “That’s because I don’t need to.”

  “Oh? Is that what you think?”

  His fingers brushed along my back, causing me to shift on his lap. “It’s what I know. Even if I refuse to admit defeat, you’ll still give me what I want.”

  “You think I’m a pushover, don’t you?” I asked as I relaxed into his arms.

&nbs
p; I barely had the words out before he used his hold to twist us both sharply to the side.

  The next instant, he had me pressed flat on my back staring up into his eyes as he rolled on top of me and pinned me to the ground.

  “Yep!” A carefree laugh followed the word.

  “That’s not fair!” I whined. “You’re using underhanded tactics.”

  “You’re getting good,” he said, as he immediately settled his body between my legs, pressed his lips to mine, and ground his hips deliciously against me. “But you have to remember to never let your guard down. The Rain will take advantage of any weakness.”

  I was in such a good mood with the endorphins racing through my system that even his mention of the organization he’d once belonged to—the people that would hunt me once more if they suspected I was alive—couldn’t bring me down.

  “I’d be a little worried if one of them was holding me like that,” I said.

  Because he hadn’t cut it since the beginning of our self-imposed seclusion, his brown hair hung long around his face. When he leaned forward, it flopped down over his eyebrows, shading his features. I brushed it back off his face so I could see him better.

  “Or if I was holding one like this,” I added with a laugh as I placed one of my palms against the rough stubble on his cheek.

  He’d been keeping himself mostly clean-shaven for the last few months and was due to shave again. At my touch, he gave me a look filled with salacious intent.

  “Or if they did that.” I moaned as he rocked his hips against mine again.

  “You never know,” he murmured as he trailed a line of kisses along my throat. “Some villains are very devious.”

  “You’re devious.” I tilted my head, allowing him more room to continue lavishing his attentions on my sensitive skin. “You’ll do anything to win, won’t you?”

  He chuckled against my collarbone. “Don’t you know it. But I don’t hear you complaining.”

  I lifted my hands to caress his cheeks, guiding his face back to mine. Claiming his lips in a desperate kiss, I moved my hands to his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his waist.

  In response, he kissed me harder.

  I used his distraction to my advantage, flipping him onto his back and straddling him. I grinned down at him. “You don’t always have to win,” I said.

  His gaze raked over my body, and he rested his hands on my hips, shifting my body over his. “See, that’s where you’re wrong.” He laughed again. “The way I see it, I’m still winning.”

  He trailed his hands upward along my sides, lifting my clothes away in the process until he’d lifted my shirt to my shoulders. In the next instant, his fingers were in my hair guiding my face to his. Kissing me tenderly, he dragged one hand through my hair while the other explored my back in long, loving strokes.

  “Yep, definitely winning,” he murmured against my lips as he allowed the strands of my hair to cascade around our joined faces.

  It became clear that the rest of my lesson would have to wait as heated kisses quickly replaced our matching smiles and our training session disintegrated steadily into a make-out one.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “LET’S GO,” CLAY said, shaking me gently to wake me up.

  Under different circumstances, his words and the fact he was waking me might have sent me into a panic, but his quiet approach assured me there was no immediate danger.

  Reluctantly, I opened my eyes. When I did, a wave of my own red-gold hair blocked Clay from my view. I shoved it back and lifted my head. “Go where?”

  “For a drive.”

  “Why?” I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I was certain there was no immediate threat, but I didn’t understand where he wanted us to go. Did he want to move on already?

  “We’ve been here for almost two months, right? And there’s been no sign of the shadow.”

  I nodded. Since we’d settled in our remote location in Sweden, I hadn’t seen the evil, shadowy creature. It had trailed me in the States and followed me to Europe, but had been absent since I’d shot it in the Black Forest in Germany. I hoped that confirmed our belief that he was no longer a threat. “Yeah, so?”

  “So I just want to let Eth know that we’re okay.” It was something we’d discussed, partly to discover if there were any active searches for Clay or any suggestion that anyone suspected I was still alive. We’d put it off though because we didn’t want to raise any flags by reaching out too early. Despite our agreement to leave it at that, Clay was missing his brother. He hadn’t said anything, but I could see the desire buried in his eyes whenever the topic came up.

  “I thought you didn’t want to let Ethan know exactly where you were.”

  “I don’t. That’s why we’re going for a drive.”

  “Where to?”

  “I was thinking Finland, we can get there in about five hours, but it’s far enough away that Eth shouldn’t be able to track us back home.”

  I smiled at his use of the word home. “Do you think the car will make it?”

  In my opinion, the vehicle was a time bomb. It was a deathtrap and barely ran when we’d bought it. But Clay had formed an odd attachment to the old 4WD he’d purchased for a handful of our emergency money and then repaired himself.

  “Do you doubt my mechanical skills?”

  “No, it’s just . . . that car is really old.”

  He shook his head with a chuckle. “It’ll be fine. We’ll take it easy and make a day of it.”

  Almost as soon as I relented, we were up and in the car, ready to go with knit caps pulled down over our heads and sunglasses in place.

  True to Clay’s word, the car did make it to Finland, even if it was smoking and puffing the whole way. The engine groaned and whined as we arrived on the other side of the border. The first convenience store we passed, Clay ducked out and bought a prepaid cell phone. We drove on for another hour before pulling over to the side of the road to call Ethan.

  “God man, it’s good to hear your voice,” Ethan said after he and Clay had shared greetings. A smile lit Clay’s features until his gaze met mine. Once it had, the corners of his mouth dropped and his eyes reflected his guilt. I wanted to tell him it was okay, that I understood his affection for his family and that it was only natural he would miss them. I squeezed his knee in an attempt to let him know I understood.

  “Hi, Ethan,” I said tentatively, letting him know that he was on speaker with both Clay and me. I leaned a little closer to the phone that sat on the console between us.

  “Evie, it’s good to hear from you too.” Ethan didn’t say it with quite the same enthusiasm that he’d used when greeting Clay, but I understood why. I wasn’t family. In fact, I was the reason Clay had left them.

  “What’s the news?” Clay asked.

  “The Rain thinks you’ve gone rogue, bro,” Ethan said, without any preamble. “After the fingerprints they found at Zarita’s place and the fact that you’ve looked up her details in the database in the past. I know it’s what you wanted, but is it worth it?”

  “Fingerprints?” I asked, confused.

  After we’d settled in Sweden, Clay had explained what he’d done before we’d left. That he'd wiped the flat clean to ensure no blame for her death fell on my shoulders. All I could remember of that night was kneeling beside Zarita, covered in her blood, watching as she struggled for her last breath.

  A shiver ran down my spine as I remembered the woman who'd helped us escape the Rain’s clutches. The guilt over her death, and all the others I’d caused, bubbled to the surface, threatening to choke me.

  “I left mine deliberately,” he murmured to me. “I hoped the Rain would think it was revenge.”

  “Well you got your wish,” Ethan said. “They’ve swept it away from the local authorities, so you won’t have the police after you, but the bosses are very interested in getting you home before anyone else dies. I managed to convince them that it was revenge, so they at least think you’re on our side.”

&
nbsp; Clay’s mouth twitched downward, almost as if he was fighting the urge to frown. He was more worried about that fact than he was letting on. “Is there a hunting party then?”

  “No. Just an APB out with the various headquarters. And if anyone gets in contact with you, they’re apparently supposed to tell you that you’re welcome back home. No questions. They understand your anger over the trickery you were dealt.” Ethan’s tone dripped sarcasm as he said the last sentence.

  Clay smiled, but I couldn’t share his relief. The frown that I’d worn since learning about the fingerprints at Zarita’s apartment deepened. Sure, it was a good thing if the Rain weren’t hunting Clay, but how could I trust that? How long would it be before they wanted him back in their fold and forced the issue?

  “It’s okay; it’s nothing we can’t handle,” Clay assured me. “How are Lou and Dad?”

  I shivered at the mention of Louise. Clay’s twin sister was formidable and hated me with a passion. If she found out I was still alive, and worse, with Clay, she would be relentless in tracking me down, like she had back home in the States. She’d be more than happy to end my life—the life of a monster. It was what the Rain did after all, and for Louise it would be personal.

  “I can’t really say. I haven’t seen either of them since I last spoke to you. I’ve only talked with Lou a couple of times.”

  “Really?” For some reason, that news caused Clay more concern than anything Ethan had said about the Rain. His eyes pinched and his lips turned downward. I wanted to ask why, but I had to wait until we were off the phone.

  “I was a little worried they’d find out I knew more about your disappearance than I originally let on,” Ethan continued. “I’ve been working with Ben’s team mostly, but I did spend a week in the UK.”

  “The UK?” Clay turned away from me, glancing out the window. “Do you mean . . .?” he trailed off and looked back to me with an odd expression. An unknown emotion burned in the depths of his dark chocolate eyes.