0968348001325302640 brenda huber shadows

by Unknown

  Cam needed her.

  She fell. Heart first.

  For the barest fraction of a moment, Cam sat motionless as her lips moved softly over his. Then, with a strangled groan, his large hands lifted to cup her cheeks. Wresting control of the kiss from her, he leaned back, slipped one hand around her waist, and hauled her up from the floor.

  Cam’s hand cruised down her thigh, bold.

  Possessive. He hooked his fingers around her knee, drawing it up, up and over his thigh. In one fluid motion, he hooked her other leg, and tugged it up and over as well, until she sat on his lap, straddling him. She gripped his shoulders, yielding all to him.

  His hand cupped her bottom jerking her forward until she pressed tight against him. His rigid erection pushed, hot and hard, against her core.

  Cam lifted his hand, tangling it in her hair. He 287

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  wrapped the golden mass around his fist, tugging her head back. His greedy mouth ravaged her senses. He dragged his unrelenting lips from hers, and she whimpered protest. But his lips never left her skin. They seared their way down the side of her neck, suckling and laving at her sensitive flesh.

  They paused, there at the base of her throat, to pull at the hummingbird flutter of her pulse, and then they skated back up the opposite side of her neck He paused then, going still as a block of granite in her arms. JJ forced her eyelids open, gazed down at him through the blurry haze of desire. His hungry gaze was locked on her ear…no, just below her ear.

  Holy crap. What the hell was it with everyone and her friggin’ neck lately?

  A gurgle of sound formed in the back of her throat, one of confusion…one of frustrated desire.

  Then Cam’s burning gaze skated to hers, shocking her speechless. Never had she seen such raw need, such unfettered greedy hunger. His stare was feral, frightening in its intensity. A spurt of teeth-rattling panic darted through her bloodstream like a ninety-proof shot of adrenaline. Stiffening in his arms, her breath hissed out as the passion-induced haze cleared from her vision. Before she could take flight, however, his arms tightened around her, the steel bands of a trap sprung.

  She thought he would claim her lips again, looked forward to it with greedy excitement even as fear made her tremble. He wanted her. She could see it in his eyes, in the harsh need that sent healthy flush into his neck and cheeks. His hand cupped the back of her head, determined and powerful, and she braced herself.

  She could never have prepared herself for his masterful, albeit gentle assault. Where she’d expected fierce and unyielding, she received soft and languid. Where she’d bargained for force and driving 288

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  need, he gave her coaxing and savoring. He lavished her lips with tender passion so at odds with the boiling emotion in his eyes, and JJ drowned in his kisses, and in her own need, squirming closer to the fire, eager to be consumed.

  At length, Cam tore his lips from hers, a harsh growl rumbled deep in his chest. His large hand pushed her head to the crook of his shoulder, held it there when she resisted. His chest heaved with his ragged breathing. The hoarse demand torn from his lips betrayed the jagged edges of his desire.

  “Just….damn it, just let me hold you.” She shifted restlessly against him. With a muttered oath, he pinned her to his chest.

  “For God’s sake, JJ, hold still,” he growled in her ear. “You have no idea how much I want you right now, want to finish what we just started.” Oh, she had a pretty good idea. The hard bulge of him still pulsed against her, unsated and demanding. “I’m on duty. I shouldn’t… No, I can’t…I can’t do this. Not right now…”

  Who was he trying to convince here?

  “Just a couple more hours,” he muttered beneath his breath. “Just a couple more hours and I’ll be back.”

  She giggled as he chanted the phrase to himself.

  His hands soothed up and down her back, soothing the burn of need coursing in her veins. Yet she could feel the tremor in his hands, the hint of shaking restraint in his arms, and the knowledge fixed a smug smile to her lips. He wasn’t nearly as composed, as in control as he would like her to believe…maybe even as he would like himself to believe.

  He buried his nose against her hair, and his chest expanded beneath her cheek with the depth of his indrawn breath. His heartbeat continued to hammer. The hard thud of it against her ear pushed 289

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  her smile wider. The scent of him—all masculine heat and the fresh scent of pine and the outdoors—

  wrapped itself around her, as securely as his arms, and she wanted nothing more than to sink in and never come up for air.

  “You should go home, get some rest when you get off work,” she reluctantly chided.

  “Don’t you get it yet, honey?” His voice held a new edge, one that cut straight to her heart, made it sit up and take notice. “When I’m with you…wherever we are…I am home. Sweet Christ, woman, you…you rub at my soul.” His words touched something deep inside her, something no one had ever gone near. Her heart purred and melted. Nothing had ever affected her more strongly, more completely. Nothing had ever meant more.

  Echoes of the approaching storm crashed in the distance, a resounding exclamation point to a statement that left her thunderstruck. Against her thigh, Cam’s phone began to hum. Heaving a bone-deep sigh, Cam shifted her in his arms and glanced at the display, swore softly beneath his breath.

  “I have to take this.” He stole a fleeting kiss, promising, “I will finish this when I come back later.

  You should go on up, get some work done…I don’t plan on giving you much time for it later.” His grin told her exactly why she wouldn’t have time.

  Still flustered from his declaration, she climbed from his lap as he flipped the phone open, pressing it to his ear with a terse, “Yeah?” Cam followed JJ down the hallway, listening silently to his caller. At the bottom of the stairs, he stole one more fleeting kiss, his mind obviously on his call, and then he sent her on her way up the stairs while he stepped out onto the porch.

  Dazed—still more than a bit dazzled—JJ

  climbed the stairs, reminding herself to put one foot 290

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  in front of the other lest she fall flat on her nose.

  ‘You rub at my soul.’ Those words circled in her head…in her heart. She knew, without the slightest doubt, she would carry those words with her to her dying day. And finally, JJ was forced to face the truth. She’d fallen in love with Cam. Hopelessly, senselessly, no-holds-barred in love.

  With Cam.

  He’d slipped past all her defenses. No, she corrected. He’d smashed right through them, demolished them, leaving her with nothing to hold on to but his need for her. Was it enough? Halfway up the stairs she paused, icy terror suddenly ripping through her.

  She could hear his voice, muffled by the door. He sounded tense, agitated.

  Holy crap. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if his words were just carefully constructed, pre-meditated tools to ensure her vulnerability? What if… No. Cam was not Jerry.

  She closed her hand on the banister, squaring her shoulders. She wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t diminish Cam or his words—words that meant so much to her—by comparing him to that monster.

  Cam was honorable. He was protective and caring.

  He’d never lie to her, never hurt her. He was nothing like Jerry.

  Smiling, reassured, she ascended the second flight of stairs. The storm rumbled all around the quiet house now, slashing angry torrents of rain against the roof. Her steps were so light, her heart so buoyant she could have been floating on puffy white clouds, accompanied by a symphony of harps, serenaded by a choir of celestial beings.

  Opening the door to her attic studio, JJ stepped inside and crashed headfirst, straight into hell.

  Wide arcs of brilliant crimson slashed the walls, 291

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  splattered the floor, stained the ceiling. Her worktables were overt
urned. Mangled paint tubes were scattered about the floor amid the smashed debris of oak and maple frames. Snapped brushes had been tossed around the room. Her palette—or what was left of it—lay in splintered pieces beneath the paint-soaked window.

  But the thing that horrified her the most, the thing that raked pain across her heart were her works…paintings that had come from the depths of her heart, expressions of emotion straight from her soul. He’d flung her paintings upon the floor, slashed them to ribbons, defiled them with the same slashes of crimson that marred the walls.

  All except Lovers.

  He’d used five huge, gleaming spikes—forming the rough pattern of a cross—nailing Lovers to the wall directly across from the door. Gaudy, deep scarlet letters sprawled across the painting, excess paint dripped from the lettering, running down over her vision.

  PRIDE.

  JJ clamped her hands over her ears to block the horrid screams filling the room. She could deal with this…if someone would just stop that screaming. Oh, God, why wouldn’t they stop screaming?

  The paint turned to blood before her eyes, pulsing with the grief of life lost.

  The hot ball of fear in her stomach turned cold, detached. He would kill her now, just as he’d killed Sarah. And there was nothing she could do to stop him. How had she ever been taken in by this man?

  How could she have mistaken him as a gentle, loving soul mate for her sister? How could she not have seen the monster hiding behind his beguiling smile?

  He lifted his arm again. How many times had Sarah seen that sight? The sight of his lifted arm, his fist clutching that bloody blade. This time, the blood 292

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  dripping from his blade was hers.

  JJ sucked in one sharp breath after another.

  Her hand flew to her ribs, clutching the dry cotton material in a sweaty death grip. The phantom burn lingered even as she scooted sideways across the threshold, scrabbling for the light switch. Soft yellow light flooded the room, and she yanked the hem of her shirt up and out of the way. Her finger traced the jagged, pink scar across her side. A scar that had taken no less than twenty-eight stitches to close. She couldn’t even remember how many stitches it had taken to close the countless other wounds her brother-in-law had inflicted.

  Sarah hadn’t been so lucky.

  Some wounds even the best medical attention just couldn’t heal.

  And the screaming continued, curdling her blood in her veins. She could handle this…she wouldn’t run. If only the screaming would stop.

  Her gaze dropped to the floor, snagging on the bright gleam of silver. There, in the middle of the floor was a large butcher knife, the blade splattered with red.

  “Interfering bitch,” Jerry ranted, slashing at her again, catching her across the forearm this time, only a shallow nick when compared with some of the other wounds he’d inflicted so far. “Why couldn’t you keep your nose out of our business? This is your fault, JJ.

  All your fault…” He slashed again, kept the blade shallow, and she finally understood he intended to toy with her—punish her—for her crimes. “You should never have convinced her to leave me. A wife shall cleave only unto her husband.” Slash.

  Blood splattered across her face, but she felt no sting. The knife had missed her. Her gaze focused on his face, on the whites of his eyes as his eyeballs rolled back in his head. His left temple and cheek 293

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  bore streaks of crimson, and shards of white crockery with tiny blue flowers fluttered from his hair. Her stunned gaze slid to the shattered vase in her hand, and the remaining pieces tumbled to the floor.

  Like a scene from a horror movie, Jerry dropped to his knees in slow motion. She scrambled back on bleeding heels and battered palms. Her lungs burned, but she locked the scream deep, unwilling to cry out lest she wake him. The front stairs beckoned her, but she was too weak now to pull herself to her feet. Nothing more than sheer determination dragged her across the hallway. Then the whole world tilted, spinning madly as she rolled, pell-mell, down the stairs, the sharp edge on every one of the steps rising up to meet her with vicious stabs of hope. Each step was raw pain. Yet each step took her closer to the door…and farther away from him.

  Large hands descended on her shoulders. Her throat, already raw, burned with another scream.

  She struggled, fighting for her life. Jerry wouldn’t catch her. She’d get away. She had to get away, had to get help for Sarah.

  The room spun as those hard hands gripped her and whirled her around. Heat enveloped her…heat and a familiar scent. Strong arms subdued her, warm breath panted against her temple as a deep voice called her name.

  Where was she? Oh Lord, she had to get out of here…wherever she was. She had to get away.

  Run, JJ. Run.

  “JJ, baby, I’m here. I’m here—it’s going to be okay. I’m here now, honey. Shh…” Cam’s voice called to her, from so far away. His hands, so gentle and warm, comforted her. His arms held her tight. Cam.

  Why was he here?

  Oh, no, Jerry would hurt him. Jerry would kill Cam, and she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Not Cam. She couldn’t lose Cam too.

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  She crashed in an undignified heap at the bottom of the steps, only a few precious, precarious feet from the door. Her brain rolled inside her skull.

  Somewhere above her, footsteps thundered closer. She was too dizzy to form words of her own, and yet Jerry’s words were all too clear…all too chilling.

  “What God hath joined together,” he snarled, staggering down the steps after her, bracing a shoulder against the wall, clutching the knife in one fist and his head with the other. Rage flashed in his eyes, ugly and murderous.

  His face, twisted with pain and fury, flashed blue and red before her eyes. No, not just his face.

  The whole room flashed blue and red. The swirling lights glanced off the walls and stairs, glinting off the blood-spattered glass covering photos of smiling faces. Had the fall, the loss of blood scrambled something in her brain?

  His eyes were demented, gleaming desperation.

  His pace quickened as he staggered closer. The knife lifted. “Let no little bitch tear asunder…” JJ struggled against the arms that held her, sobbing. No, no, no. She didn’t want to die. She’d finally found happiness again. She had a reason to live. She’d found love. She had Cam. She could hear him, calling to her, his voice muffled and insistent.

  But Jerry’s face leered closer.

  The door burst open behind her, and frantic male voices shouted words she could no longer decipher. Biting wind raced over her and a spray of white floated inside the room, a snow globe shaken and set down, left to swirl in a flurry of bitter white all around that glistening red blade…that blade that continued to descend, promising an end to her pain.

  Promising an end to her…

  From somewhere far away, the explosion of gunfire echoed in the room, and above her Jerry’s body jerked once, twice, three times. Fury darkened 295

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  his face as he tumbled sideways, thwarted in his quest for righteous vengeance. New blossoms of crimson spread across his chest.

  A stranger’s face swam in the murky soup of her vision. A kindly face crinkled with lines of worry, framed with wiry gray hair. His blue uniform blurred and wavered. A silver badge, old-fashioned and yet timeless in its honor, flashed on the man’s shoulder, catching her eye, and then darkness began to descend.

  The uniform before her eyes was no longer blue, but sandy beige. The badge wasn’t quite the same, but it still gleamed. Bright with golden hope, bright with the promise of safety.

  JJ lifted her confused gaze to the face above the badge, then she tumbled into the dark void where blood and pain and loss held no significance.

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  Chapter 20

  Cam’s hands fisted on the steering wheel, his knuckles bleached white beneath the pressure. The image
of JJ—eyes rolling back in her head as she collapsed in his arms—kept flashing through his mind like an endless loop from a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. His heart had stopped dead in his chest.

  Hell, even the seconds that had passed while he raced up the stairs to her, as her screams had rent the air around him, had been jolt enough for his heart. She’d been trapped in one of her flashbacks when he’d burst into the room. He’d figured that out the second he’d looked into her eyes. Her studio had been destroyed, her work ruined. But her eyes had been dilated, trapped by things he could not see. Her screams—and the broken recollections he didn’t think she was aware she cried out—had shredded him, leaving him helpless and filled with black rage.

  Then she’d passed out in his arms.

  A hard wave of nausea rolled through him just thinking about it.

  Slowing for a corner, Cam pushed the residual anger down deep. Lightning slashed across the sky.

  Wind ripped through the streets, bowing saplings, making older established trees shudder and twist.

  Small branches danced and skittered across wet roads in front of his headlights. Torrents of fat droplets of rain splashed against the windshield, waging war with the windshield wipers. It was fast becoming a draw as to which was winning.

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  storm, it didn’t look as though it were going to get any easier. He’d be lucky if he wasn’t dealing with downed power lines before the night was through.

  At least the rain had taken hold before the fire had spread. God help the little bastard that kept messing up his town and tearing him away from his woman when she needed him. He’d be hard pressed not to strangle the son of a bitch with his bare hands when Cam finally caught him. The only thanks Cam could offer was that the arsonist had continued to target abandoned buildings. How long would it be before he grew bolder, upped the stakes?