by Brenda Novak
Although he’d rather die than tell anyone, especially Eddie, he knew what being raped by another man felt like and would never allow anyone to humiliate him in that way again—no matter how many people he had to kill in order to avoid that fate.
“Should we hit ’em now?” Eddie asked. “While we’ve got the chance?”
Sebastian eyed the cars pulling in and out of the parking lot. There were too many people around. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it right. “No. We wait until dark, like I said.”
* * *
It was time for Natasha to go. Mack had already hauled her luggage out to Grady’s Chevy Tahoe, since Grady was the one who’d agreed to drive her to the Oakland airport instead of Rod. Mack had made up an excuse as to why he couldn’t go, claiming he had plans for the evening. He felt it’d be easier to say goodbye here at home, where they’d have some privacy. He’d bought her a necklace and was waiting for the right moment to give it to her.
But Grady was hollering through the house that they had to leave.
Mack was beginning to worry that she wouldn’t come to tell him goodbye, when she knocked on his bedroom door.
He opened it immediately. Then he had to step back for a minute. She was so beautiful. She was going to drive all those college boys crazy—a bittersweet thought for him. “You all set?” he asked.
“You weren’t going to see me off? You were just going to let me leave?”
He’d wanted to walk her out, but he knew better than to give her the necklace in front of Grady. Had it been a simple farewell gift—the kind he should be giving her—he and his brothers would’ve gone in on it together. But he hadn’t mentioned the purchase to anyone else. He’d known Dylan and the others would find his gift a bit too telling. A heart-shaped pendant with a small diamond in the upper left side was the kind of thing a man bought for a wife or a lover—not a stepsister. “I was hoping you’d come to me.”
“And if I hadn’t?”
“I would’ve had to mail you this.” He opened his dresser drawer to retrieve the small velvet case he’d tucked in there yesterday.
Some of the sadness she’d been carrying around evaporated the moment she saw it—and hope, although tentative, brightened her eyes. “You bought me something? Is it just from you, or—”
“It’s just from me,” he broke in.
When he handed her the box, she flashed him a smile for the first time in days, a smile that broadened as soon as she opened it. “Wow.”
“Turn around. I’ll put it on for you.”
“I love it.” She lifted her hair as he fastened it around her neck. Then she looked down at the golden heart as if he’d tossed her a lifeline—something she could cling to while she was gone. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You mean—” his voice broke and he paused to gain control of his emotions “—you mean a lot to me.”
“God, Mack,” she whispered. “Just say it. Please? You love me.”
He stared at the pendant, nestled perfectly in the valley between her breasts. He knew if he didn’t focus on that, he’d focus on her lips, because he wanted to kiss her more than he’d ever wanted to kiss her before. “Take advantage of every opportunity at college. Live life to the fullest. Embrace all the opportunities that come your way. But be careful. You can be a ballbuster, but once someone manages to get past that defensiveness, you’re all heart. That’s why I got you this necklace. It reminded me of you.”
“You’re not my dad, Mack,” she said. “God knows who my dad is, but I’m an adult now. I’m not looking for a father figure anymore, and I certainly don’t want you stepping into that role. It’s bad enough that you consider yourself my ‘brother.’”
“Our parents are married, Tash.”
“Our parents are completely dysfunctional and have totally fucked up our lives!”
“You really have to watch your language.”
She ignored that, too intent on what she was trying to say. “We have a chance at happiness—with each other. Why don’t we take it?”
“For a lot of reasons. You’re too young, for one. Anyway, you’re going to be fine.”
“Because of you and your brothers. If you hadn’t taken me in, I have no idea where I’d be right now. I doubt I’d be heading to college. I’m so grateful and yet everything you’ve done for me is what stands between us.”
“College stands between us. Go and enjoy the next four years. And don’t let your feelings for me hold you back.”
“Natasha!” Grady’s voice boomed down the stairs. “What the hell? You’re going to miss your plane!”
“I don’t care about catching my plane,” she whispered, ignoring Grady. “I’d rather stay here with you.”
“Don’t make this any harder,” he said. “You’d better go before Grady comes down.”
“No one knows about this necklace?”
“No one can know. If Grady sees it, make up something to tell him.”
“I will.” She clasped the necklace as if it meant everything to her. “If you didn’t feel anything, it wouldn’t matter if he or anyone else saw it.”
“Natasha?” Grady called. “Are you down there?”
“Yes! I’m saying goodbye to Mack,” she called back. “Be right there.”
“Be safe,” Mack told her.
She slid her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to his, but he didn’t respond. He couldn’t.
Wearing a wounded expression, she eventually dropped her arms and turned to go. But it was that wounded expression that beat him. He couldn’t let her leave so sad.
Before he could stop himself, he caught her elbow, spun her to face him and kissed her like he’d always dreamed of kissing her, with an open mouth and plenty of tongue. With all the passion he’d kept bridled for so long. In seconds he had her up against the wall, and he could tell she liked it. She wrapped her legs around his waist as if she’d welcome a lot more than that and shoved her hands in his hair.
He knew she hadn’t kissed many guys, but she was a natural. He loved the way her passion rose so quickly to match his, the way she parted her lips and welcomed his tongue, the way she tasted.
He wasn’t sure how much further he would’ve taken it if Grady hadn’t called for Natasha again.
“Now!” Grady yelled, thumping the wall near the top of the stairs and startling them enough that they broke apart.
They were both breathing heavily as they stared at each other.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you, too,” he finally admitted.
With an expression of pure relief, she gave him another quick squeeze. “I knew it! I’m coming back to marry you as soon as I graduate,” she said, then hurried upstairs.
* * *
Rod didn’t think he’d ever been more exhausted in his life. He fell asleep almost as soon as he hit the mattress and didn’t wake up for hours. When he did come around, he couldn’t see anything except darkness, but he could feel India tucked up against him.
The steadiness of her breathing indicated that she was asleep. He told himself he shouldn’t wake her. She’d been on an exhausting roller coaster of emotion the past few weeks—the past year. But he couldn’t help remembering those few minutes in the parking lot of McDonald’s, when she’d declared her feelings for him. He wanted to hear her say it again, say that she loved him. He wanted to thread his fingers through hers without feeling Charlie’s ring.
He waited for what seemed like an eternity, hoping she’d wake up on her own. But when she didn’t, he couldn’t resist touching her. He slid his hand up over the swell of her hip as he kissed her neck, and she accommodated him by turning onto her back.
“I can’t believe you’re awake,” she murmured. “It’s the middle of the night, and you’ve
had even less sleep than I have.” Her voice was still husky, but she molded herself to him as if she wasn’t unhappy about being disturbed.
He cupped her left breast through his T-shirt, which she’d pulled on after removing her makeup. “It’s not easy to sleep with you lying beside me.”
“You haven’t had enough sex?” she said with a laugh.
“I could never get enough of you. But I’m not looking for sex. Not right now.” He took his time kissing, touching her.
“Then what?” she whispered.
Maybe he did want to make love. Then he could tell her with his body what he wasn’t quite ready to say. He’d never felt so protective or possessive of anyone, but he was also a little superstitious—afraid to express those emotions for fear of jinxing the closeness and intimacy that was developing between them. He’d never been quite so happy. The last time he’d felt this complete was before his mother died.
But he needed more time before he could trust what he was feeling—and what she was feeling. Once they got beyond the problems they were facing now, maybe he’d be able to let down his guard.
“It’s weird. You make me want to give you everything I’ve got—and yet I can feel myself holding back,” he said.
“You’re trying to play it safe, to prepare for all eventualities.”
“I’m not trying to prepare for all eventualities.”
“Yes, you are. But you can’t fall in love and remain in control at the same time. They’re opposites.”
“You’re still wearing your wedding ring, India.”
She said nothing. She stared at him for several seconds. Then she removed the ring. After putting it on the nightstand, she ran her hand gently down his face. “Is this better? Is that what you were waiting for?”
He smiled. “It certainly helps.
“Then stop holding back.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You don’t have to make a commitment, but at least give yourself permission to let go, to embrace what you’re feeling, let it carry you away if it’s powerful enough to do that.”
It was plenty powerful. But letting go, giving himself permission to love her as much as he was afraid he could love her, was a terrifying thought. What if, in the end, he wasn’t enough for her? “I’m just an auto body technician from a small town, India.”
Propping herself up on one elbow, she drew a heart on his bare chest. “I know who and what you are, Rod.”
Her hair tickled as it fell against his shoulders. He’d yanked off his shirt but hadn’t bothered with his pants. He’d been too tired. “Is it enough for you?”
She studied him for several seconds. “Can’t you tell?”
He linked his left hand with hers. “That’s not an answer.”
“My feelings aren’t based on your profession or where you live, Rod.”
He might’ve told her he loved her right then. The words were on the tip of his tongue. He opened his mouth to do exactly that—when he heard a loud thump and the sound of breaking glass.
29
At first India thought there’d been an accident. Some drunk had stumbled on the way to his room and smashed into their window. Or a thief was trying to break in. Not until she heard Sebastian curse did she realize what was really going on. Then her whole body went rigid. This was exactly what’d happened eleven months ago! Sebastian had come out of nowhere and invaded the sanctity and privacy of her bedroom.
Determined to put up a fight sooner this time, before Sebastian could get any more of an advantage, she managed to overcome the debilitating terror and regain control of her body. Even then it seemed as if she could move in only slow motion. She attempted to throw herself over Rod, to stop any bullet meant for him, but he wouldn’t allow her to act as his shield. And he was strong enough to stop her. As Sebastian tripped and fell, Rod shoved her off the bed.
“Lock yourself in the bathroom and don’t come out!” he yelled.
The adrenaline that had enabled her to overcome that first burst of fear worked against her now. Her hands shook as they skimmed the top of the nightstand, searching for her phone but knocking her wedding ring off instead. Help. She had to get help—not hide in the bathroom. But she wasn’t sure where she’d left her cell.
Damn it! Where was it? Maybe it’d fallen on the floor...
She dropped to her knees so she could search the carpet and found it. “911,” she mumbled in desperation, as if saying the numbers would somehow dial them. “911.”
A hand grabbed her by the arm and pushed her halfway across the room. It was Rod. He was trying to get her into the bathroom. She had no idea what he was going to do, but he didn’t seem to be following her. She had no doubt that they’d both end up dead if she couldn’t get help. They were completely vulnerable. And Rod had the use of only one hand. They hadn’t prepared for an attack because they’d never dreamed Sebastian would be able to trace them to the motel.
This room had felt like the one safe place on the planet.
The memories of Charlie’s death tumbled through her mind—disjointed, terrifying. She couldn’t go through this again...
India was shutting the bathroom door when she heard a noise that told her Sebastian hadn’t come alone. A quick check confirmed it. A second man was climbing through the broken window. Eddie. She knew it was Sebastian’s brother even though she could barely see him in the dark.
“Shoot him!” Eddie shouted. “What the hell are you waiting for?”
There was no time to call the police. Rod would be dead in a second.
“You bastard!” she screamed and threw the blow-dryer.
It wasn’t much of a weapon. After glancing off Sebastian’s shoulder, it crashed to the floor and broke into pieces. But having an object come at him out of nowhere startled him. Turning, he fired.
India’s ears rang from the blast. But she felt no pain, and he couldn’t get off another shot before Rod hit him in the side of the head with his right hand, cast and all.
The gun dropped with a solid thud as Sebastian toppled over.
“Get in the bathroom!” Rod shouted again. But if she didn’t do something, Sebastian would recover the gun; already he was trying to shake off Rod’s blow. And there was no way Rod could stop him. He was fighting with Eddie.
As Rod and Eddie knocked the lamp off the nightstand and slammed into the wall, India launched herself at Sebastian. She’d heard the gun hit the floor but couldn’t see it in the dark. She hoped he couldn’t see it, either, hoped to kick it away from him.
She was afraid he’d knock her out before she could make much of a difference, however. An image of Cassia rose before her mind’s eye, and she felt a deep sense of loss. The Sommerses might get to raise her, after all. But that thought only made her anger burn hotter. She would not allow Sebastian to win—even if she died trying to stop him. She refused to face the same agonizing what-if questions she’d faced since Charlie’s death.
“No, damn you, not again!” she yelled as she slugged, scratched and kicked for all she was worth.
Sebastian shoved her out of the way so violently she fell and hit her head on the nightstand. The blow stunned her, made it difficult to think. But she could hear voices, and she was fairly certain they weren’t in her head. There were people standing outside the broken window, marveling at the commotion.
Why weren’t they doing anything?
“What’s going on?... I don’t know... They’ve been broken into... Get the manager... There’s fighting! Call the police!”
“Help!” India cried. Then, thanks to a glimmer of moonlight, she spotted the gun. She thought she could crawl to it, but Sebastian had spotted it, too, and he was closer. She doubted she’d be able to hold on to it, anyway, even if she could reach it. He’d simply wrest it away and shoot her. Then he’d sh
oot Rod, before any of their confused onlookers could figure out what to do.
So she did the only thing she could think of. As he turned his back on her, she came up from behind and looped the cord of the blow-dryer around his neck. Then she clenched her teeth and pulled, using every ounce of strength she possessed.
He bucked and fought for breath, gouging at her hands and trying to reach behind him to grab her. But she hung on like a woman possessed. For Charlie. For Cassia. For Rod.
Fortunately, he couldn’t get a good grip on her. He switched to trying to pull the cord away from his neck instead, which might’ve worked had he done that first. But she was too far ahead of him in the struggle, had already tightened it.
Even then she had to fight to hang on and nearly lost her grip when he managed to grab a fistful of her hair. He yanked so hard she thought he’d pulled it out. But Charlie seemed to be in her heart and her head, egging her on, helping her push through the pain.
She’d never known that a few seconds could last so long. Just when she thought she’d subdued Sebastian, her strength began to wane. She couldn’t hold on, after all. He was going to get away...
And then there were several people in the room. Rod, his mouth and abdomen bleeding, pried her hands off that cord. Two uniformed police officers restrained Sebastian; someone else removed the gun.
It was over.
“You okay?” Rod murmured and gathered her to him.
* * *
Rod needed half a dozen stitches on the left side of his abdomen. Eddie had had a knife, and he’d managed to get in a good swipe before Rod could disarm him. That cut was Rod’s only injury, though, aside from the busted lip he’d sustained when he rushed Eddie and their heads had collided in the dark. When he’d landed that blow to Sebastian’s head, he’d broken his cast, which had to be replaced, but he hadn’t caused any further injury to his hand.
Overall, the incident could’ve been a lot worse. At least, other than a sore head and a few minor bumps and bruises, India hadn’t been hurt. The bullet Sebastian fired had gone into the wall. She was shaken after the ordeal—anyone would be—but Rod was impressed with how quickly she’d rebounded. While the ER doctor finished with him, he could hear her talking on the phone outside his room, as calm as ever. And when she came back in, she was smiling.