Terms of Surrender

by Sheila Seabrook

  Because now that the adrenalin had started to dissipate, craziness was just around the corner.

  From the crushing weight in her chest, to the throbbing pain in her head, to the heat which refused to let up, Gage had been right about one thing. There was a whole lot of a mess clawing to get out.

  She huddled against the passenger door, kept her hands tucked under her arms, and wished her twin sister were still alive.

  Hannah would know exactly what she needed…a hug, a shoulder to cry on, and a place to stay until the memory of Henry and his rifle and fists faded into the background. But one night pretending everything was okay, sleeping in Gage’s spare bedroom, wasn’t nearly enough time for the fear to recede.

  And yet, somehow she had to make it through the next twelve hours without a meltdown, then the next week, the next month—

  A movement out the side of her eye made her raise her arms to shield her face from another blow. A scream clawed up her throat.

  Gage’s voice cut through her panic. “Geez, Harley, I’m sorry. I was just reaching for the air-conditioning button.”

  She sagged against the back of the seat.

  Gage was watching her as though he fully expected her to come unglued and he wasn’t too far off the mark.

  His calm voice drifted through the warm interior of the vehicle. “It’s okay to cry, honey. I won’t think less of you.”

  She raised her chin and through stiff lips said, “I’m fine.”

  As if she hadn’t said a word, he continued. “You’ve been through a traumatic experience tonight. In fact, I’m feeling a little shaky myself.”

  He didn’t look shaky. If anything, he appeared more in control now than the moment Henry had smashed her head into the wall. Gage had lunged to his feet, furious and wild and fearless.

  Right now, he sat scrunched in the driver’s seat, his six-foot-two frame wedged into her pipsqueak-sized car. He looked like a sardine stuffed into a tin can, the boots on his feet almost too big to manipulate the tiny pedals that easily accommodated her much smaller feet. His shoulders were hunched, his back curved, and his thighs cradled the steering wheel.

  He slanted another glance her way and when she didn’t say anything, turned his attention to the buttons on the dash. He poked at one, then another. “Man, it’s hot in here. Is the heat turned on?”

  Hoping he wouldn’t notice her hands trembling, she elbowed his arm out of the way and checked the controls. “Heat’s off.”

  “Don’t you have air in this thing?”

  He sounded put out and grumpy. Thankful for the distraction, she flashed him a sympathetic smile. “Only the basics. Tires. Seats. A steering wheel.”

  “No air. Gotcha.”

  “I do have air, sort of.” Cranking down the passenger window, Harley lifted her face to the breeze, the air movement cool on the dampness of her skin. Beside her, Gage followed suit. “I didn’t think it could get this hot. It’s got to cool down soon, don’t you think?”

  He grunted a noncommittal reply and kept on driving.

  End of conversation.

  Her hands were still shaking and her heart was still pounding. If she didn’t find a distraction, she’d be a nutcase by morning. All she had to do was keep the needy little girl bottled up for the space of one night, and first thing in the morning, she’d hightail it out of Gage’s house and his life.

  She turned to watch him.

  There was something soothing in the solid strength of his body and the sure touch of his hands. As he steered onto the main road, the car bounced across an uneven section, and the top of his head collided with the roof of the car. He muttered a curse, checked over his shoulder for oncoming traffic, and rubbed the top of his head.

  She forced a wary smile. “Sorry.”

  He turned on the signal light, shoulder-checked to the left, and switched lanes. “This car reminds me of the bumper cars Mike and I used to ride when we were kids. They were never big enough either.”

  Even back then, Gage had been tall. Gangly, too. She couldn’t prevent the smile from escaping any more than she could ignore the way he’d filled out in the shoulders. Very nicely indeed.

  The tightness in her chest contracted and she tried to let it go. “So what do you drive? Something big and powerful?”

  He glanced over at her, a self-conscious grin smoothing out the frown on his face. “A Harley motorcycle mostly.”

  Freedom on the open road. The wind blowing through his hair. Power between his legs. A Harley beneath him. She was suddenly very jealous of his bike.

  With determination, she pushed the image away and patted the dash. “This car is perfect for me.”

  “That’s because you’re a runt.” His deep voice rumbled through the semi-darkness between them. He slanted her a look that grazed her from the top of her head to where her legs disappeared into the shadows, before he flipped on the signal light, checked over his shoulder, and steered the vehicle onto a side road. The tone of his voice grew serious. “Size means everything, honey. Size means power.”

  She sat up straighter, startled by the ominous tone of his voice.

  What did she really know about Gage? He’d been gone from town a long time and since he’d returned, he’d kept his distance.

  People changed.

  She’d changed.

  He maneuvered the stick shift into a lower gear, distracting her from her thoughts, and turned onto a quiet residential street that appeared safe, innocent, like her neighborhood. Except Harley knew the truth.

  Behind a few of those well-maintained houses and neatly manicured lawns lived men like Henry who hid their meanness behind a smooth exterior.

  She glanced back at Gage. He wheeled the car up a driveway, parked in front of a closed garage door, and cut the engine. He used an economy of motion in the tiny space, and when he pushed the car door open and unfolded his frame through the narrow opening, the tightness returned to her chest.

  “Stay put. I’ll come around and help you out.”

  He was a great deal bigger than her. She grabbed the doorknob, pushed open the door with her shoulder, and swung her legs out. He was almost a foot taller and had to be nearly twice her weight.

  The image of Henry returned.

  Henry, who for the last five years had been her neighbor.

  He’d seemed like such a nice guy, patient with her questions about house maintenance, cutting her lawn when she was too busy to do it herself, seemingly in love with his wife and his life.

  And yet he’d snapped.

  As her rescuer came around to the passenger side door, her heart picked up speed, and the strange knot in her stomach caught her attention. “Just so you know, I’m not afraid of your size. I’ve taken a few self-defense courses and I bet I could take you.”

  A grin reshaped the serious contours of his mouth and the tightness in his shoulders eased. “Anytime you want to test your theory, honey, I’m game.”

  “Tonight?”

  Silent, he shook his head and held out his hand to help her up.

  As she awkwardly gained her feet, muscles that had stiffened up during the journey through town complained. The ground beneath her swayed. She grabbed onto Gage for support, her hands landing on hard abs and steel-like strength. The sudden movement from sitting to standing left her woozy and unsteady, and as pain spiked in her head, she wobbled.

  He caught her against his hard body. “Whoa there, steady now.”

  Beneath her hands and forehead, she felt the rumble of his voice in his chest, felt the comfort of his arms around her. She closed her eyes, rested her forehead against the soft material of his t-shirt, and inhaled the scent of him.

  She wanted to stay right here forever, in his arms, protected and safe from everyone but him. Instead, she pushed back and stepped away. “I’m okay.”

  “No you’re not.”

  The street light behind him kept his features in shadows and she smiled up at him. “It’s probably a good thing you turned down my chal
lenge. Tonight you’d have me flat on my back within seconds without even touching me.”

  And then what would happen?

  Unbidden, the memory of their kiss returned.

  Yeah, she knew of one way to get rid of the panic, but she didn’t think Gage would agree to a bone-melting bout of good sex. As the tempest inside of her swelled, she tried to keep her breathing even. A shiver went through her.

  Gage grabbed her elbow and guided her through the dark. “Cold?”

  She shook her head, instantly regretted it. As they reached the back door, she stepped back and broke their body contact. Yeah, sex with Gage would alleviate all of her tension and fear, at least until tomorrow.

  Beside her, he fiddled with the keys until he found the right one, unlocked the door, and reached inside to snap on a light. “After you.”

  Harley stepped over the threshold. Gage followed her in, shut the door, and turned the deadbolt.

  The lock clicked into place with a finality that isolated them from the rest of the world, and when she glanced at Gage, he had a strange expression on his face. Like he had the sudden urge to breakout, maybe head down to the police station and work an overtime shift.

  Why was he tense around her? Did he really expect her to fall apart, come unglued?

  Instead of bolting from the house as she expected, he flicked on a light switch and brushed past her, turning on lights as he led the way through the house. “Kitchen. Living room. Hallway. Bathroom.”

  She followed him, the guilt of intruding on his space outweighed by the fear of being alone in her house. One night, that’s all she’d stay. Anything more would be an intrusion of his privacy.

  She hooked one finger in the belt loop of his pants and gave a tug, forcing him to turn and face her. Wariness bracketed his eyes, pinched his mouth.

  “Would you mind if I hijacked your shower? I’m hot and sticky.” And she smelled bad, like fear and Henry all rolled into one.

  His gaze flicked over her. Without a word, he escaped into the bathroom where he turned on the light and opened the shower door. The sound of rushing water filled the room. “I’ll let you set the temperature.”

  “Thanks.” Harley stood in the doorway while Gage checked the shampoo bottle and soap.

  “Anything else?”

  She moved into the room and reached around him to check the temperature of the water. “Maybe a t-shirt. Otherwise I’ll have to sleep in my, ah—”

  With a clench of his jaw, he slipped past her and out of the room. When he returned, he hung a shirt on the back of the door, opened the closet door, and reached inside. “You’ll need a towel.”

  No, she wouldn’t, not if he was there to dry her off with his tongue. Man rides his Harley into sunset. Now there was a headline in the making.

  He handed her the towel. “Why is your face all red?”

  Harley clutched the towel to her chest and let out a self-conscious laugh. “I was thinking about your bike and—ah—” A flash of heat washed over her body. “—thinking about how it has the same name as mine. You know. Man rides Harley. Switch out me for the bike.”

  Nothing.

  The man had more control than any other man she’d ever met. It might be fun to ruffle him up a bit. At least it would help her forget the evening with Henry and the fact that they could have died.

  Didn’t Gage ever think about that? Didn’t it ever make him want to grab the moment and go with it?

  Harley raised one brow in his direction. “Aw, come on, Gage, you have to admit that’s kind of funny.”

  “My sense of humor is perfectly fine. Maybe you tell sucky jokes.” He took her hands in his and bent his head to examine the scrapes on her palms. She tried not to think of the warmth of his touch or the gratifying shiver that raced up her spine and into her arms. “I want to take a closer look at these when you’re done.”

  As he released her and backed into the hallway, Harley waggled her brows. “Man rides Harley into the sunset. Man rides Harley all night long. Man rides Harley until he’s—”

  His mouth twitched at the corner, while his eyes glowed with unexpected heat. “Enough already. If I laugh, will you stop?”

  This was definitely better than the alternative. “Maybe.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “Thank you. Was that so hard?”

  He gave one of his rare laughs, which made Harley’s heart swell in her chest. The rigid set of his shoulders relaxed and he hooked a thumb toward the kitchen. “If you need anything, call.”

  He shut the door.

  As Harley stripped off her scrubs, she listened to him move from the kitchen to the living room and back. She closed her eyes, remembered the strength of his arms and body when he’d drawn her close, and sucked in a deep, steadying breath.

  Here in Gage’s house, she was safe from monsters like Henry. Still, she had to remember she wasn’t the only one affected by tonight’s encounter. Taunting and teasing him wouldn’t get her anywhere, except maybe on his list of people to avoid.

  She sighed.

  Too bad she was already there.

  A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another and another. She scrubbed them away and stepped into the shower.

  God, she was tired. Physically and emotionally burned out. She hoped that once her head touched the pillow, she’d be asleep within seconds. First thing in the morning, she’d leave before she did something she’d regret, like beg him to let her stay the rest of eternity.

  By the time she finished washing, drying, and dressing in the shirt that hung down to her knees, she headed toward the kitchen. She found Gage rummaging through the cupboards, totally oblivious to her presence. Stopping in the doorway, she quietly absorbed the image of wide shoulders, lean waist, long legs.

  Power, he’d said.

  This kind of power had a totally different danger level than the one he’d referred to in the car. There was no protection against his kind of power, except maybe time and distance.

  She touched her lips, recalled the kiss she’d stolen.

  Why had she thought that a kiss would chase him away? The Gage Toryn she remembered would never let an unwanted kiss stop him from holding up to his responsibilities.

  She twisted a button on the shirt and rubbed at her neck where the stiff collar chafed her skin. He turned, and as his gaze dropped down the shirtfront to her bare legs, everything in her stilled.

  Her blood stirred, her body came alive.

  Every time she saw him, her heart did strange things in her chest, leaving her breathless, lightheaded, and dizzy.

  Like now.

  His deep low voice made her insides dip and quiver. “Feel better?”

  She nodded, self-conscious, aware that she was naked beneath the shirt. “All out of rotten jokes, too.”

  “Good, because I’m all out of phoney ha-ha’s.” With his chin, he gestured toward the kitchen table where an open first aid kit had been set. “Sit.”

  She complied without him having to ask her a second time.

  He knelt down in front of her, bent his head, and put antiseptic on the scrapes on her hands, then bandaged them.

  Harley smiled down at the top of his head. “Thanks for feeling obliged to bring home every stray you rescue. I have to admit, I really didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

  The pupils of his eyes were huge in the dimness of the kitchen, his muscles tense beneath her hand, his expression hard and unreadable, his current thoughts as mysterious to her as they’d always been. “I don’t do this for everyone, you know, just the ones who need to be taken care of.”

  She laughed softly. It was either that or cry because the last thing she wanted from him was pity. An unexpected tear washed down her cheek and as she brushed it away, she turned her head and another laugh escaped. “Sorry. Maybe I should hit the sack before things get messy.”

  With his thumb and forefinger on her chin, he angled her head to face him. His eyes glowed in the dark. “Honey, everything about you is a mess.�
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  She scrubbed another tear off her cheek and tried to steady her emotions. When Gage raised his hand to her face, the crack of Henry’s fist as it connected with her head echoed through her mind, and she ducked.

  “Jesus,” she heard Gage mutter. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to be careful, but—”

  The facade of fearlessness she’d been struggling to maintain splintered at the seams and as he pushed to his feet, Harley launched herself at him. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed up against the solid strength of his body.

  His arms tightened around her waist, holding her close, keeping her safe.

  The words spilled out before she could swallow them back. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Please, Gage, let me sleep with you.”

  Somewhere in the quiet neighborhood, a dog barked, a car door slammed, a motor purred to life and droned off into the distance.

  Inside the house, the only sound was the steady tick-tock of the living room clock, and the sound of his ragged breathing in her ear.

  “Please, Gage,” she whispered. “I promise I’ll stay on my side of the bed. You won’t even know I’m there.”

  He let out a heavy sigh and the stiffness of his body gave way to strength and compassion. “Geez, Harley, you don’t have to beg.”

  Okay, maybe she’d gone too far. Maybe it was time to backtrack.

  Embarrassed, she untangled her arms from around his neck and pushed away.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She tucked her arms around her waist, no longer able to look him in the eye, heat blooming in her cheeks. “It’s enough that you offered me your spare room. I don’t mean to be more of an imposition.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, all cute and flustered and totally out of his depth. “Jesus, Harley, you caught me off guard.”

  Shuffling her feet, she shifted away. “Never mind. I’m being silly. I thought if I was with you I wouldn’t have—”

  Nightmares.

  Harley turned for the hallway and walked away.

  This nightmare was the worst of all.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Gage knew exactly what Harley needed.

  Solace and care.