Fifty First Times: A New Adult Anthology
Page 12
“They’re fine, sweetheart.” Tanner kneeled beside her and smoothed the tangled hair from her face. “You did the right thing, Olivia. I’m very proud of you. But now we’re going to have to find the bad man so we can put him in jail and make sure he never bothers you again. Can you tell me what he looks like?”
She gave a little shrug. “He was scary. His face was fuzzy like my daddy’s but he didn’t have any hair on his head.”
“That’s really good, Olivia.” Tanner patted her back. “Do you think you could come to the police station and look at some pictures? Maybe you could find a picture of him?”
“Okay. I—” She looked at me and her eyes fluttered wide. A whimper escaped her throat before she buried her head into Tanner’s shoulder. She spoke, her words muffled into his shirt, “Please. Don’t let him get me.”
“Of course not, Olivia.” He squeezed her shoulder and turned to me. A strange look crossed his eyes. He jumped to his feet, shoved Olivia behind him, and withdrew his gun, pointing it straight at me. “Don’t move.” He growled the words between clenched teeth.
I gasped. “Tanner! What the hell?” My stomach quivered and I took a step back only to bump into something solid. Before I could turn around to investigate, an arm curled around my neck so tightly, I struggled to breathe. What little air I managed to inhale reeked of menthol. Seconds later, another arm appeared—and this one held a large hunting knife. The stranger forced the edge against my throat.
“Don’t do it, Officer.” I recognized the voice as the man who we’d found wandering the woods alone. “You make one move and I’ll end this pretty little girl, here.” To prove his point, he pressed the knife deeper into my skin. Pain like fire burned across my skin and I cried out. Seconds later, something warm trickled down my neck.
Shawnee, held back by the leash in Olivia’s hand, snarled.
Tanner’s gun never wavered. “Put down your weapon!”
The man holding me laughed. “Not going to happen. I wanted to find the little brat before she identified me, but since that didn’t happen, I’ve got nothing to lose. So here’s how this is going to go; you’re going to put down your gun and radio to the other officers I have a hostage. I want a truck waiting for me when I walk out of these woods. And the girl here”—he shook me—“is going with me as my insurance. One wrong move and kill her. I swear I will.”
I could barely hear his words over my pulse thrashing inside my head. I wanted to push away from his grip, but I knew any move I made would dig the blade deeper into my neck. All I could do was curl my fingers into Pinky’s soft fluff and will myself not to scream.
“All right. Just calm down,” Tanner said, his voice as casual as someone ordering coffee. His eyes met mine and I wondered who his words were really intended for. Still holding the gun, he glanced behind him at Olivia. She trembled as she held on to Shawnee’s leash. “Olivia, I want you to take Shawnee for a walk in that direction.” He jutted his chin toward the stream. “He’s a smart dog and he knows how to get you out of the woods and to your mommy and daddy. Can you do that for me?”
“O-okay.” With shaking hands, she pulled on Shawnee’s leash. It took her several good tugs before he reluctantly turned away from me and led her back the way we came.
Next, Tanner removed a hand from his gun and clutched his radio. “Dispatch, five-one-four, copy information. I’m out with a hostage situation in progress. Have EMS stand down. Suspect is demanding a truck and free passage.”
The radio crackled before the dispatcher answered, “Copy, five-one-four. Stand by for a supervisor.”
Tanner brought his hand back to his gun. His eyes narrowed into a gaze every bit as lethal as the weapon in his hand. “You’ve got your truck. Now let go of the girl.”
The man snorted. “That’s not going to happen. She’s my insurance so she stays with me. And who knows? After she gets to know me, we might end up being real good friends. What d’ya say, darlin’?” The man’s arm squeezed my neck until black spots flooded my vision. I tried to breathe but could do little more than sputter and cough.
Tanner bared his teeth. “Cricket, do you remember what I told you earlier?”
“Don’t talk to her! I’m the one with the knife. And if you want her in one piece, you’ll toss me your gun. Now!” He thrust the blade deeper into my skin but the pain hardly registered as unconsciousness pulled at me with velvet fingers. How could Tanner expect me to remember anything when I could barely stay awake? Still, I did my best to rewind our conversation. He’d talked about how he felt about me and what he’d been forced to do. But in this moment, one thing he’d told me rose above the rest and screamed through the panic muddying my mind.
I never miss.
My eyes widened. Tanner must have read the realization on my face because he nodded in confirmation.
Oh shit. No. My heart hammered against my chest, threatening to break through with each beat. The stranger held me too tightly. There was no way Tanner could shoot him without hitting me.
Tanner narrowed his eyes. The barrel of his gun appeared to grow larger before my eyes until the blackness within opened up and threatened to swallow me whole.
“Cricket.” Tanner’s voice broke through the darkness and I blinked, surprised to find tears tangled in my lashes. Tanner gun’s remained raised, but his expression had softened. “I promised I would never let anyone or anything hurt you.”
“Toss me the gun, cop!” the man screamed behind me. He tried to pull me backward but my unmoving feet dragged along the ground keeping us from getting very far. “I’m warning you!”
Tanner never took his eyes off of me. “Do you trust me?”
Do you trust me? The words swam around my head along with the memories of a hundred other times he’d asked me the question. While there were many things that could be said about our relationship over the years, one thing always remained true: When I fell, Tanner caught me.
I tried to answer but the words tangled inside my throat. All I could do was nod. And even though a haze crept along my vision, there was no mistaking Tanner’s smile. I carried it with me into the darkness when I closed my eyes.
A second later, a shot rang out and my world went black.
THAT NIGHT, I lay in my bed inside the small apartment I’d built inside the pole barn that was my dog kennel. I stared at the ceiling as the echo of the gunshot blasted through my head. Despite the near scalding shower I took earlier, whenever I closed my eyes I could still feel the warmth and smell the metallic scent of the man’s blood soaked into my clothing. So I chose to keep my eyes open. In fact, I might never sleep again.
Shawnee, however, snored peacefully at my feet.
I touched the bandage covering my neck. Lucky for me, the doctor at the hospital said the cut wasn’t serious. But that’s not to say it wouldn’t have been if Tanner hadn’t . . . I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, willing the memory not to resurface. I’d had enough blood for one day.
I rolled onto my side and curled my knees up to my chest. I wondered how Tanner was doing. He’d ridden with me in the ambulance, holding me in his arms the entire way. But the chief had arrived at the hospital shortly after we did. He’d whisked Tanner away, citing statements needed to be made and reports filled out. Tanner promised to check on me, but I was released from the hospital before he returned. I couldn’t blame him—I could only imagine how much paperwork was involved when you shot someone.
After tossing for another hour, I finally gave up on sleep and reached for my iPad. I could at least read a book while I waited for morning to come. But no sooner had I turned the screen on when something rapped against my window.
I gasped and Shawnee’s eyes snapped open and he let out a low growl. Outside my window the figure of a man waved. “Cricket, it’s me!”
Shawnee stopped growling and his tail thumped against the mattress. I, on the other hand, was not so forgiving. “What the hell, Tanner?” I climbed out of bed and unlatched the window and pushed it
open. “After the day I had, you nearly gave me a heart attack! I have a front door, you know.”
He grinned that damned dimpled grin of his. “Sorry. I just thought this would be like old times.” Grasping the sides of the window, he hopped onto the ledge and slid inside my room. After shutting the window behind him, he paused to look around. “This is where you live? You know it’s a dog kennel, right?”
I swatted his arm. “If you don’t like it, nobody is making you stay.”
“Oh no.” His grin widened and a familiar heat washed over me. “I’m not going anywhere. That was a mistake I’ve regretted every day for four years. I don’t plan to repeat it.” He looked around the room once more. “It’ll be a tight fit, but we’ll make it work.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He flopped backward onto my bed and crossed his ankles. “I’m moving in.”
Shawnee wagged his tail.
I jerked back like I’d been struck. “What? No!”
“Why not?”
I threw my arms in the air. “Because that’s insane! We’re not crazy, love-struck teenagers anymore, Tanner. Normal people take things slow. They date—get a feel for each other before they move in together.”
“Maybe you’re right about what normal people do.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of my bed. “But you and I are anything but normal.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He stood and strode across the room to me. His sudden nearness made my heart jump inside my throat, threatening to choke me with each pulse. He placed his hands on either side of my face and tilted it toward his. “This,” he said, his words soft. “What we have is not normal. I’ve known that since the day I met you. Sure, other people might meet, fall in love, and get married. But do they physically ache when they’re apart?”
“Tanner, I—”
“And when they do come together again, even if years have gone by, does it feel like not a single second has passed? Because that’s how it feels to me, Avery. Every second I spend away from you is pure agony. And now that I’m with you, for the first time in four years, I finally feel at peace. If you want me to leave, just say the word. I deserve it. But I don’t think if I could survive losing you a second time. Let me stay, Cricket. I know this is where I’m supposed to be.”
His fingers slid past my ears and curled into my hair, pulling me closer until the only thing separating us was the fabric of our clothing. His heart thumped softy against my chest, asking to come in. Like I could refuse him or his heart. The agony of his absence had been almost too much to bear. Even so, with him here, holding me in his arms, I could barely remember the pain. When he was with me, somehow I knew everything would be okay.
I laughed and shook my head. “This is crazy. You know that, right?”
He kissed me then, burning a path of flames from my mouth, to my chin, and down my neck. I shivered as a wave after wave of heat washed over me. Each time his lips met my skin the pain between us burned away, leaving only desire in its wake. When he finally released me, I staggered backward and clutched the side of my desk in an attempt to keep my wobbling legs from giving out.
He grinned. “It is crazy. But it will work.”
“How can you be so sure?” I asked, my words breathless.
He walked toward me. The need in his eyes, I was sure, mirrored my own. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” With a smile, I closed my eyes—even though I’d already fallen.
About the Author
COLE GIBSEN spent half her senior year of high school homeless, with only a beat-up Volkswagen Jetta and a bag of Goodwill clothing to her name. The only things that got her through the nights spent parked in truck stops and cornfields were the stacks of books she checked out from the library, and her trusty flashlight. It was because of the escape these books gave her that Cole vowed to become a writer so she could provide the same break from reality to readers who needed an escape from the hardships of their own lives.
Cole is represented by Nicole Resciniti of the Seymour Agency.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Crash
SOPHIE JORDAN
Hunter
“THE KITTY CAVE?” I repeated, frowning. “Isn’t that a strip club? I don’t do strip clubs.”
“I know,” Cody replied. “That’s why we didn’t tell you.”
I dragged a hand through my hair and glared out the window, watching the snow-draped city. I was being forced into a strip club. Un-fucking-believable.
“You don’t do anything, man. You’ve always been tied down to a girl. Paige. And then Pepper—” Cody slanted me a look. I read his hesitation and knew it stemmed more from confusion than any sensitivity on his part. The guy was kind of a douche. An oversexed rugby player. I’m pretty certain he hit the juice, but he’d been my roommate since freshman year. When he had asked me if I wanted to room with him again, I figured the devil you knew . . . And there was the not so minor fact that he picked up after himself. He never ate my food and never walked around naked. Lines never to be crossed. The last thing I wanted to see was Cody bare-assed.
Now he was giving me a speculative look. He didn’t know what Pepper and I had been exactly. And hell, that made two of us. Whatever we were, it had been short-lived. In some ways I felt more in a couple weeks with Pepper than anything I felt in two years with Paige. It was an eye-opener. Spending two years with someone . . . well, there should have been some grief over splitting up, right? But all I felt was relief.
Either way, here I was. Single and not looking to change that. I had a couple months left at Dartford, and then my internship over the summer. I was moving on. No sense getting tangled up with another girl before then.
“I mean, did you even bang Pepper?” Cody’s mind lived in the gutter pretty much all the time and he didn’t hide the fact.
I blinked long and hard, an image of Pepper suddenly flashing before my eyes. All fiery hair and expressive eyes. The last time I’d seen her she’d been in the arms of her new boyfriend. A tatted-up bartender. Not the kind of guy I would have imagined for her, but hey, she loved him. And he loved her. Which I guess was the most important thing . . . that he treated her right. Pepper deserved that.
I cleared my head with a shake and answered Cody, “Because if we were sleeping together that made the relationship somehow real?”
Cody shrugged and turned down a street lined with dark buildings; several were boarded up. We passed a couple seedy-looking bars, a shop that advertised twenty-four-hour massages. And smack in the middle of the street, there it was. A line of guys stretched out in front of its doors.
The Kitty Cave.
In the backseat, Barrett leaned forward and clapped a bone-jarring hand on my shoulder. I tried not to wince. I wasn’t a wuss, but it was like Cody and his rugby buddies could only show that they liked another dude by inflicting pain. That was especially the case with Barrett. I liked him a hell of a lot less than Cody, but they’d gone to high school together. If you got one, you got the other. I learned to accept it. “Maybe we’ll get you laid, too.”
I shrugged. I didn’t need anyone to help me get laid. The girl sitting next to me in Anatomy had been offering it up to me in no uncertain terms the entire semester. If I wanted a piece of ass, I could get it any day of the week.
Cody parked the car in the lot across the street and we all climbed out into the cold February night. I stared at the Kitty Cave. “Paradise City” spilled out onto the street and shook the air. Going inside the Kitty Cave appealed to me about as much as getting my teeth drilled.
The fact that I had been in a relationship for the last two years—mostly with Paige and then briefly with Pepper—had little to do with it. I wasn’t uptight, but it just seemed a little . . . I don’t know. Sad. The idea of women taking off their clothes for a roomful of horny guys for money. Presumably just to p
ay their bills? I doubted they liked it. Being one of those horny guys made me feel like a perv.
Cody led us straight to the front of the line. The bouncer at the door recognized him. They exchanged fist bumps. When we got inside it was evident management wasn’t too worried about maxing out on the building’s recommended capacity. A hundred-plus men hooted and hollered as a blonde dressed in a little red devil costume swung around a pole.
“Wait until you see this one girl,” Cody called over the loud pump of music, leading the way through tables. “She dresses like a dominatrix. Man. The girl is fucking hot.” He waved his hand like he was burned. “I’ve gotten a few lap dances from her . . . I think she’s on the verge of giving me her number.”
“You want to go out with her?”
Barrett laughed and Cody shook his head. “Man, you don’t date a stripper. All I need is one night with her.”
I shook my head. Like I said. The guy really was a douche.
I followed Cody and Barrett, wondering where they thought we were going to find a seat up front. The place was jammed. But then a guy wearing a T-shirt with the club logo stepped forward. There was more fist bumping and slaps on the back like he and Cody were longtime friends. Cody slipped him some money and before I knew it we were led up to a table marked reserved in front of the stage.
“And that’s how you do it,” Cody declared as he stretched back in his chair, crossing his stacked biceps over his chest. Instantly a waitress appeared to take our drink orders.
I turned my attention to the stage and watched the red devil working it for all she was worth. She rubbed her crotch against the pole. Some fat, sweaty guy desperately waved a ten and she strutted toward him, striking her heels hard on the stage. She placed her red stiletto square in the center of his chest and let him feel up her leg, taking his time to stick the bill in her garter.
Next to me, Barrett opened up his wallet and showed me rolls of fives with a waggle of his eyebrows. Evidently he came prepared. I looked at Cody. He hadn’t reached for his wallet yet.