Shallow

by Kenborn, Cora

  Here we go.

  One. Two. Three. Four.

  The lyrics fuel an already out of control fire in my veins, and I press the gas pedal harder. I’m weaving in and out of traffic on the Carolina Bays Parkway like a race car driver on the last lap when I remember where I am. Making a hard right, I cross three lanes of traffic and exit. A couple of turns later, I tear out of the car and all but kick the door open to Martial Law MMA Studio.

  “Hey, Kincaid. Where ya been? Haven’t seen you in months.” I’ve known the owner, Hal, for years. I’ve shed a lot of blood at his studio, and there’s probably more than a few stains leftover. He’s a good guy, but his easy-going smile fades when he sees me. “Hey, you okay?”

  My voice is low and rough as I resume pacing. “I need someone.”

  “Anyone in particular?”

  “Someone who can take a hit.”

  I wait for him to question me. Instead, he scans the room, eventually settling on a man murdering a punching bag who has biceps the size of elephant’s feet. “Keller.” Hal motions him over. “You warmed up?”

  Keller looks me up and down, curling his scarred lip into a cocky smirk. “Just for this guy, or did he bring a friend?”

  I don’t need backup. I’ve got enough adrenaline coursing through my veins to take on everyone in this place. Grabbing a roll of tape off the equipment shelf, I walk past him, purposely shoulder checking him on my way to the ring.

  “Get in.”

  * * *

  Shiloh is sitting on top of the reception desk when I open the door to the center seven hours after I walked out. Technically, the center is open until nine o’clock, but I could care less about rules and protocol as I turn the lock. I have my head turned away from her as she leaps off it and launches herself into my arms.

  Why the hell is she still here?

  I don’t want her to see me, but I’m sure as hell not going to let her fall. Catching her, I allow myself a moment to inhale her scent before letting her go. Free from her grip, I try to circle around her, but this is Shiloh West. Traumatized or not, everything happens on her terms.

  Hooking her thumb and finger around my chin, she turns my face toward her and gasps. “Oh my God! Cary, what happened to you!”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I should’ve said I didn’t need a therapist or a nurse as well because she lifts her other hand and traces the gashes in my cheek, above and below my eyes, and especially the one splitting my bottom lip. All of them are caked with dried blood.

  I hope Keller didn’t have a date tonight. It’s kind of hard to impress a girl when you’re missing six of your front teeth.

  “What did you do?” she whispers.

  “I tripped.”

  “On what, a wood chipper?”

  “Boss, the inspector never showed,” Frankie announces, walking from my office into the entryway, flipping through a stack of papers in his hands. “I guess it doesn’t matter because you bounced and…fuck, man, you look like shit.” His eyes widen when he sees what’s left of my face, and the papers fall to the floor as he rushes toward me.

  I know what he’s doing and I don’t want his help. I want everyone to go away and let me deal with this my way, but instead they’re all hovering over me. Before he touches me, I shove the heel of my hand into his chest and he stumbles backward.

  “Cary, stop…” Shiloh yells, grabbing my wrist and putting herself in between us.

  I ignore her and look around her shoulder to Frankie. “Why is she still here?”

  He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Her ride came to get her, but she wouldn’t leave until you came back.”

  Her lips thin, and she fights to control her tone. “She’s right here. You can ask her yourself.”

  No, I can’t. I’ve just ended a man’s career. I can’t risk touching you right now.

  “Now’s not the time.” Jerking out of her hold, I walk away.

  “Cary, you need to talk to me,” she yells after me, her footsteps doubling mine as she closes in on me. “Where did you go? Cuts like this don’t just happen.”

  Stopping mid-stride, I grip the hair above my forehead and squeeze. The thoughts running through my head aren’t safe for her. Why the hell won’t she listen?

  Turning around, I let go of my hair and fling my arm out to the side, watching her flinch as I fight to control my temper. “I said leave me alone!”

  Leaving her standing there with an open mouth, I stomp the rest of the way to the locker room, tearing clothes off as I go. By the time I reach the shower, my chest is heaving and I’m pretty sure my blood pressure is at stroke level. As the water beats down on my bruised skin, I watch the blood pool at my feet. I’m not sure if it’s mine or Keller’s or a combination of both, but it’s mildly cathartic as it mixes with water and disappears down the drain.

  Just like before, I feel her before I see her, and bow my head, knowing I did everything I could to keep her out of the lion’s den. It’s not my fault she jumped willingly over the fence.

  “I’ve already told you once, Starshine. If you’re gonna be in here, you’re gonna be naked.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Shiloh

  It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen him naked. Each time takes my breath away. Heat flames my skin, and it’s not from the steam filling the room. It’s from the sculptured back that leads to a trim waist, which connects to the firmest ass I’ve ever dug my nails into.

  Clearing my throat, I try to reason with him. “If you’ll just listen to me.”

  His flattened palms bend at the knuckles. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

  Ignoring the urge to run, I take a step forward. The back of his body isn’t as battered as the front, but it’s still bruised. It makes me want to tend to his wounds and take away whatever drove him to this point. He saved me today, and I want to save him. However, as I stare at the way his fingers grip the shower tile as if they’re trying to rip them out of the wall, I know saving isn’t what he needs.

  I know what he needs, and although part of me is nervous about how tightly coiled he is right now, I’m going to give it to him.

  Between my own pounding heartbeat and rapid breathing, the sound of the running water is drowned out as I unbutton my shorts. Hooking my thumbs underneath the waistband of my lace panties, I drag both pieces down my legs and step out of them. Cary doesn’t move, still leaning against the tile as the water pelts down his back. Once I toss the rest of my clothes on the concrete, I walk slowly toward him, praying I’m right and not making the biggest mistake of my life.

  “Your stubborn streak is going to get you hurt one day, Shiloh.”

  “Maybe, but not today.”

  A low laugh rumbles in his chest. “Are you sure about that?”

  No. I’m not sure about anything right now. However, I’m observant, and I know he needs an outlet. Whatever he did to cause such destruction to himself didn’t work. If he doesn’t get it all out, he’s going to implode.

  I don’t answer him. Instead, I place both palms on his shoulder blades and slowly run them down the length of his back and around his ribcage. Just as I turn my fingers toward the sharp V in his abs, he pushes off the wall and grabs my hands.

  “Before you do that, you need to ask yourself if you’re prepared for what comes next.”

  “Use me.” The words are out of my mouth before I realize I’ve said them.

  He sighs and shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “I know exactly what I’m saying.” Breaking free from his hold, I boldly reach down and wrap my hand around his cock. As I suspected, he’s already hard, and I slowly stroke him.

  Lifting onto my toes, I whisper against his ear. “Do it.”

  With lightning reflexes, he grasps my wrist and spins me around, shoving my back against the unforgiving wet tile. Lost in the vacant glaze in his eyes, I say nothing as he pins both hands over my head. His kiss is brutal—nothi
ng like the sexy, exploring ones I’ve been used to the past week. It’s punishing, his mouth probing my lips, tongue, teeth—anything he can find to possess and dominate. He pushes, and I yield, giving him what he needs in a dangerous game.

  Pulling my lower lip between his teeth, he presses our foreheads together, his grip on my wrists making me wince. “Last chance to run.”

  I can’t speak. I’m terrified and exhilarated. I want this—want him—but I’m in unchartered waters and that’s a place I usually avoid at all costs.

  Instead of answering, I lift up on my toes and kiss him back. A slow, determined kiss that’s meant to reassure him of my intentions.

  But it’s not my intentions he’s interested in.

  Grabbing a handful of my hair, he pulls it back until I sink to the concrete floor and raises an expectant eyebrow. “Open.”

  I’ve never been one to take orders during sex, but if saving him means being his vessel, I’ll be a fucking vessel.

  I open my mouth, and he guides himself inside, the metal piercing clashing against my teeth. As big as he is, I manage to establish a rhythm and risk a glance up at him. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed. The line between his eyebrows is deep and pronounced as he draws them together with every upward pull of my lips.

  He clenches his teeth and sucks in a deep breath. “Fuck, yes.”

  The control is all his. Holding my head steady by my hair, he delivers deliberate strokes, taking his power and pleasure all in one act. It’s not long before his face contorts, his body jerking, as a shudder tears through every muscle and limb. My name rumbles from his throat in a primitive growl, and then my tongue and throat are flooded with warmth.

  “Take it all,” he commands through gritted teeth.

  So, I do. Repeatedly.

  When he opens his eyes, he’s different. There’s a calm on his face I haven’t seen since last night. The vacant hardness in his eyes is gone, replaced by the piercing ocean blue that hypnotizes me with just a passing glance. I sink back onto my heels and close my eyes, exhausted and relieved.

  My Cary is back.

  Hands cup my face and I open my eyes to find him kneeling in front of me, his thumbs alternately caressing my cheeks and lips as if he can’t believe I’m real. “Why didn’t you go home like I asked you to?”

  “Cary, I’ve been here for over two months now. When have I ever done anything you’ve asked me to?” Smiling, I lean into his palm.

  “I’m serious, Shiloh.”

  I shrug. “I couldn’t. You tore out of here with hell in your eyes. I was worried about you.”

  There’s more, but I can’t tell him. I’ve never given enough of a shit about anyone to stick around and worry. My reactions over him confuse and scare me.

  “Careful, Starshine,” he laughs and runs a hand across my cheek, “you might actually be putting other people first.”

  “Isolated incident. Won’t happen again.”

  There’s a marked silence between us as he takes in our naked bodies and the open locker room. “I never thanked you for what you did for my family. I’m sorry about that, and I’m sorry about this.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, and this was my choice. I’d choose it all over again if I needed to. Are you okay now?”

  Brushing my wet hair away from my face, he nods. “For now, yeah.”

  His ambiguous statement unsettles me, but he seems so much calmer than he was twenty minutes ago that I let it go. Besides, there’s one thing that’s still bothering me. “Cary, when you left, you said ‘I’m going to kill her.’ Who is her? What don’t I know?”

  My last word is cut off as he kisses me. Not a brutal kiss like a few minutes ago, but a gentle one. Soft. Tender. When he pulls back, he presses his thumb over my lips again. It seems to be a thing with him now.

  “I thought I knew who did this to you, but I was wrong.”

  I study him for a minute. Then again, maybe it’s not a thing. Maybe it’s his tell and it’s taken us being intimate for him to show it. “Who knows,” I say, forcing a laugh. “I’m not exactly winning any popularity contests around here these days.”

  “Still, you’re never to be alone here again. Got it?” His stare is intense again. He’s not kidding.

  “Got it.”

  Once we’re both on our feet and dressed, we’re walking hand in hand toward the door when he stops and pulls me against him. “Speaking of being alone, I don’t want to be. I won’t be able to rest if I don’t know you’re all right.”

  I laugh, more than slightly amused at the one eighty twist our relationship has taken. “Is this your way of asking me to come home with you?”

  “No, it’s my way of telling you to come home with me.”

  My smile widens, and I tap his cheek with an open palm, half-gentle in a joking manner and half-firm just to keep it real. “I hate to burst your bubble, caveman, but I have rehab tonight.”

  “Can’t you skip it?”

  “And miss the stale wafer cookies and Kool-Aid?” Placing my hand over my heart, I fake a dramatic Southern belle-worthy gasp. “Are you kidding me? I live for that shit.”

  Rolling his eyes, he tugs my hand forward and we start walking toward the center again. “Okay, fine, point taken. I’ll drive you.”

  “And Frankie too.”

  He smiles a little too wide and I stifle another laugh. “Of course, I love an audience.”

  * * *

  Frankie slams the door and slings his worn backpack over his shoulder. “Catch you inside, Snowflake. Don’t be late or I’m eating your share.”

  “Don’t touch my damn cookies!” I yell out the window at his turned back. He just raises his middle finger in response and walks away laughing.

  Cary stays quiet, twisting his hands around the steering wheel. I find it mildly amusing that he seems almost shy considering he had his cock shoved in my mouth an hour ago.

  Shifting his eyes toward me, he finally drops his hands in his lap and sighs. “Shy, I don’t know what this is. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t have a label, and if it did, it’d probably contain a warning. We’re fucked up, you and me. I have no idea where this is gonna lead, but I know I’m game to find out if you are.”

  “You mean we’re not just great sex?” I flash him a playful smile and wink, giving him every opportunity to recant his statement and run. Outwardly, I’m the epitome of easy breezy Shiloh, but inside, I’m an F5 tornado, tossing everything I’ve ever known into a wind tunnel because I want his words to be true. I want the warning label. I want to be game.

  I want him.

  Apparently, years of wearing a mask has served me well because all he sees is easy breezy Shiloh and chuckles at my joke.

  “Don’t get me wrong, that’s one hell of a perk, but no. I’m tired of being angry all the time. It’s exhausting, and to be honest, the person I’ve hated for the past seven years doesn’t exist anymore.” Reaching across the console, he takes my hand in his and gives it a squeeze. “You’ve changed and so have I.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “Yeah,” he says, frowning and looking down at our joined hands. “I think Ellie would be pretty pissed off at the way I’ve held on to a mistake. She was all about living in the moment, looking forward, no matter how little time there was left. I want to live in the moment with you, Shiloh. I always have. Even when I tried to convince myself otherwise.”

  I’m still absorbing his confession when he surprises me with a kiss, our tongues moving in perfect harmony as if this was always the plan. As if we were always supposed to be.

  “When I get out of this meeting, let’s start living.” I don’t care how needy I sound. He can take it however he wants.

  He weaves his fingers through my hair and brushes his thumb over my scar. For the first time, I don’t flinch. “When you get out of this meeting, I have something I need to tell you. If we’re going to do this, we need to do it with a clean slate.”

  I ignore the duplicity of his p
romise. “Then clean slate it is.”

  After another quick kiss, I wave goodbye and walk into the meeting.

  Clean slate.

  Imagine that.

  Thirty

  Cary

  Guilt is a powerful thing. Even when life is on the right track and you think you’re keeping it between the yellow lines, your damn conscience creeps up into your blind spot and clips you from behind, sending you spinning into a six-car pile-up.

  After dropping Shiloh and Frankie off at their meeting, I decide to kill time by swinging by my parents’ motel. It’s late, but I know since they’re short-staffed, they’ll both be there. Hopefully, since Shiloh has paid off their debt to the McDaniels, they can afford to get some decent help and can take some time off.

  I slow my footsteps as the gravel pops under my feet like gunfire.

  POW. You’re a thief.

  POW. You’re a liar.

  POW. You’re a fraud.

  The hope in Shiloh’s face almost killed me. When she first came back to town, all I wanted to do was ruin her. Now, all I want to do is love her. Because I do. I fucking love her, but I know she’ll walk away from me when I tell her the truth. The truth of how I stole from her and conspired with Taryn to ruin her life.

  Because no one can forgive a double betrayal like that.

  Yeah, I know she screwed me over years ago, but this is different. My sins took planning and thought. It’s hard to come back from that. The thing is, she has the power to retaliate in a much worse way than I did.

  Shiloh can shut down.

  Running away to California isn’t possible without defying her court order, but she can put a wall between us. I’m no pussy, but being forced to see her every day without being able to touch her will kill me.

  The thought agitates me to the point of wanting to get back into the car and head to Martial Law, so I hurry to the office door. The repetitive chime I’ve always hated signals my presence, and my mom’s dark hair pops up from behind the desk. She’s all smiles as if they aren’t one more late payment away from bankruptcy.