A Reason To Live (Reason #3)

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A Reason To Live (Reason #3) Page 18

by CP Smith


  “I won’t ever let you go,” he told her, reaching out his hand, pleading with his eyes for her to take it. “Please, baby. Reach up and grab my hand.”

  Her bottom lip quivered for an instant, then her attention focused on his hand and she surged and caught his fingers. He crushed them in his hand and pulled, inching her further out of the water. She was pinned against the rock, so he let go briefly with one hand and grabbed her vest, pulling again. Once her legs were far enough out of the water to move, Sage brought her foot up and climbed the side of the rock as Shane came to his knees and continued to pull.

  Exhausted from battling the raging water, Sage collapsed on the rock when she cleared the top. Shane let go for an instant, then hauled her up to his chest and buried his face in her neck.

  “I’ll never let you go,” he panted against her cold, wet skin, then pulled back and captured her mouth. When their lips met, the surface beneath him shifted like the night before, then it tilted, spun sideways, and turned end over end until it righted itself on a firmer footing than he’d felt in a year. Warmth folded around him like a shot of whiskey and warmed his blood as his tongue danced with hers. Belonging, acceptance, and forgiveness filled his chest, and he crushed her harder against his body.

  Cheers rose above the thunder of the river, and he pulled back, running his hand through her soaked hair as he scanned her face. She was smiling, tears flowing as she held on tight to his shirt. For the first time since they’d met, he didn’t see her as Sloan’s sister when he looked at her. She was just Sage. The woman he wanted. Nothing more.

  The knot he’d been carrying for a year finally broke free and he kissed her forehead, her nose, and her lips again, as she shook from exertion and cold. Then he moved to her ear and growled, “Just so you know, when we’re alone, I’m gonna fuck you hard while I tan your hide for that shit you just pulled. What the hell were you thinkin’ turnin’ around?”

  Sage jerked back and her face paled. “Shane, I know who my stalker is,” she gasped.

  “What?”

  “He was on the bank watching us when I turned around. It makes no sense, but it was him.”

  Shane turned and looked back, asking, “Where?” just as the report of a rifle rang out. He recoiled from the pain and grabbed his shoulder, then lost his footing on the wet rock. Sage tried to stop their decent, but Shane’s weight was too much for her and he fell, taking her with him into the river and over the falls.

  ***

  Cold. Why am I so cold?

  My eyes opened for a moment, and I saw the sky moving past.

  “Keep the pressure on that shoulder,” Gregor ordered.

  I was jostled as I lay on my back, then water rained down on my face. I was so sleepy I couldn’t keep my eyes open despite the cold water, so I closed them.

  The rushing sound of the river followed me into my dreams. Soon I was tumbling, the air in my lungs burning to escape. Down. Swim down. I fought the cold, ordering my arms to work, but I kept tumbling, unable to stop. I didn’t know which way was down. My body fought against me; I reflexively took a breath and my lungs filled with water. When I convulsed at the intrusion, my head hit something solid and then my world turned black . . .

  The roar of an engine as it accelerated filtered through my subconscious. The bouncing of the vehicle as it raced over uneven surface broke through the gloom, and I my eyes fluttered open, whispering one word. “Shane.”

  “Right here,” his voice whispered in my ear. “I got you.”

  I struggled to stay awake, but a sense of danger was crowding into my fuzzy consciousness keeping me from falling back under.

  “Danger,” I whispered back.

  “Who, baby? Tell me who it is . . .”

  “My stepfather . . .”

  ***

  Shane went on alert when Maxine’s front door burst open. Standing guard outside Sage’s room, waiting for Maxine to finish with her, he drew his gun when Chester entered Maxine’s house.

  Sage was recovering from her time in the water and a goose egg on the back of her head. They’d brought in Dr. Rhodes from the next county to stitch Shane’s wound and take care of Sage. Now Maxine was helping her change clothes.

  They’d been damn lucky. The eddy had spit them both out rather than claiming two more victims to its powerful hydraulics. Gregor had been waiting to pull them out once they surfaced. He’d cleared her lungs quickly while Nelson had dealt with Shane’s shoulder. The .22 caliber bullet had lodged in his shoulder, narrowly bypassing an artery when it did. It would cause him some pain, but thankfully, his range of motion wasn’t affected. He’d been shot before, and this injury was minor compared to what a 9mm could do.

  Shoving his gun into the back of his jeans, Shane moved toward Chester, who was followed by Max and Mia. The look on Max’s face was murderous.

  “I just got off the phone with Richard Heller’s former commanding officer. You’re not gonna believe this shit,” Chester bit out.

  “I’ll go and check on Sage while you men talk,” Mia said then moved passed Shane toward the bedroom.

  Shane jerked his head toward the kitchen and both men followed. He didn’t want Sage overhearing anything Chester had to say.

  In the span of a few hours, he’d gone from keeping Sage at arm’s length to wanting to protect her with his life. His feelings of guilt over Sloan’s death had been replaced with rage for the man who’d almost killed them both. Now all he could concentrate on was having Heller’s neck in his hands so he could slowly choke the life out of him.

  “Talk to me,” Shane said once they were far enough away. “How the hell does a man come back from the dead?”

  “With help,” Chester replied as they entered the kitchen.

  “I know this is the twenty-first century, but as far as I’m aware, we haven’t learned how to raise the dead.”

  “Heller’s body was never found. Under state law, he hasn’t been classified as dead, only missing. But after four years, Sage and her mother assumed he was dead.”

  “So the bastard staged his own death and has been on the run all this time?”

  “Looks like. But it gets worse,” Chester answered, looking toward Max. “You want to tell him?”

  Shane turned to Max and watched his chest rise and fall as he tried to rein in his anger.

  “The friend who called in the report about Heller drowning was Duke Stetson,” Max bit out. Shane blinked at the name. Closing his eyes in disbelief, he pictured the former Police Chief as he lay dead on the floor, Max’s knife buried deep in his throat. Stetson had come close to killing both Mia and Max that night. He was a rapist, a murderer, and now, apparently, an accomplice to a fake death. “They were partners five years ago before Heller’s apparent death,” Max continued. “Did Sage ever mention the connection?”

  “She didn’t know,” Chester stated. “She told me he changed partners so much they stopped paying attention. And when he was reported missing they didn’t care who called it in. They just thanked God for taking him out of their lives . . . How much you want to bet Stetson was helping Heller this whole time?” Chester threw in.

  “He’d have to have something on Stetson for the man to keep helping him.”

  “They were partners at one time. Heller probably had a file full of dirt. Enough to coerce Stetson into keeping his secret.”

  “And what? Now he wants revenge on Sage for her part in his downfall?” Shane asked.

  “It makes the most sense. Stetson died, leaving Heller with no source of income.”

  “Why not move to the lower forty-eight and start over there?” Shane questioned.

  “Why do any of these fucks do what they do?” Chester answered. “He’s probably fixated on blaming Sage and that’s all he cares about. From what I could ascertain from her, the threats started a few months after Stetson died. His entire focus since then has been terrorizing her. He’s the cat and she’s the mouse, my friend. He’s deriving pleasure from watching her fear.”
/>   He’d often wondered how Max had kept his cool during the incident with Stetson. But the rage sweeping through his body answered his question. He didn’t. He just hid it. Hid it like Shane was doing now when all he wanted to do was launch one of Maxine’s chairs through her window.

  “What’s our next move?” Shane asked.

  “I’ve got a call in to Jack. He’s got a buddy in the FBI I’m hopin’ can pull some strings and help us out with manpower. If Heller’s still in the area, which I think he is, we’ll need to flush him out,” Max answered.

  “I’ll have men posted outside Maxine’s until we can mount a search,” Chester said.

  Thinking about Heller’s need for revenge it occurred to Shane the man might want revenge on anyone who took away his ability to hide. He hadn’t gone after her until Stetson died. Until then, he’d been content with being dead. But Stetson’s death was on Max and Mia, not Sage.

  “If Heller’s hell bent on exactin’ revenge, you need to keep an eye on Mia as well as your back,” he warned Max. “You two cut off his gravy train.”

  It was clear to Shane that Max hadn’t come to the same conclusion. He went from murderous to tightly wired in a matter of seconds. Which upped the ante in Shane’s mind. Normally, he would have pitied any man who messed with Mia, but in this case, he couldn’t give a fuck. If Heller came near either woman, he was a dead man.

  “Are you stayin’ here or goin’ home?” Max asked between his teeth.

  “I’m not leavin’ Sage.”

  Max raised a brow, relaxing a fraction.

  “Finally pulled your head out?”

  “All the way out,” Shane answered with a grin. “The abyss isn’t a bad place to be.”

  “Thank fuck for that,” Max sighed. “I thought I was gonna have to kick your ass.”

  Shane scoffed. “The Hunter side may have handed down all the brawn, but I have enough in me you’d have been sorely tested. If my memory serves, you tried to beat the shit out of me when I plugged your ass with buckshot, and it didn’t end the way you thought it would.”

  “I remember that,” Chester guffawed. “In fact, I remember it so well, I think I’ll make amends now,” he continued, moving forward to put out his hand.

  Shane looked down and frowned as he took it.

  “For what?”

  “I’m shakin’ it now before you find out I helped Maxine in her ploy to get you and Sage together.”

  Shane blinked.

  “The deck?” Shane asked.

  “Had my eyes closed the whole time.”

  He looked to Max and shook his head. “She’s a pain in my ass.”

  “Welcome to my world,” Max gruffed. “But in this case, I’m not complaining.”

  Shane heard a giggle from behind him and turned to find Sage standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame as she took in the confrontation. She looked tired, but her eyes were bright with humor from Chester’s confession. Her auburn hair lay around her shoulders, still damp from a shower. Void of makeup, her ivory complexion was dappled with freckles from the sun. She was wearing a white cotton gown covered by a matching robe, looking every bit the angel she was. His angel. His saving grace from the hell he’d been lost in the past twelve months. His to protect and love. His to lounge around with on a lazy afternoon while he tasted her body and sampled her hidden desire. His to peel back the layers from until he unwrapped her secrets and unearthed her mysteries.

  “Back in bed,” Shane ordered, moving toward her.

  “I could say the same thing to you. You were shot today and you’re on your feet as if nothing happened.”

  “Flesh wound. Nothin’ to worry about.”

  “I’ll be back in the morning once I talk to Jack. Keep that gun close,” Max said as Shane wrapped his arm around Sage’s back. He jerked his chin at Max, leveling him with a dark scowl, and then led Sage to her bedroom.

  Maxine called out as he opened her door, so he turned and found her heading toward him. When she reached him, she put her hand to his face and smiled, running her thumb across his cheek as his own mother had when he was a child.

  “Being broken because your heart is pure makes you human in the most beautiful way,” Maxine whispered. “It’s when you overcome being shattered—allowing love to seal the cracks in your soul—that it becomes its own kind of beautiful.” Beautifully broken. Beautifully healed.”

  Shane didn’t hesitate to wrap her in a hug. “You’re a nosy old woman and a pain in my ass. But I love you for it,” he whispered back.

  “Good. Now go take care of our girl. Doctor says we have to wake her up every few hours to keep an eye on her.”

  With a smirk, Shane answered, “I think I can handle that.”

  “I have all the faith in you,” Maxine giggled, then kissed him on the cheek and left him to take care of Sage.

  When he entered her bedroom, he found Sage looking out the window. He didn’t want her thinking about her stepfather, and he sure as hell didn’t want her at a window where a bullet could find its mark.

  Pulling the gun he’d shoved into the back of his jeans, Shane laid it on the nightstand where he could reach it and then moved to the center of the room. “Come away from the window,” he ordered.

  Sage startled. She was so focused on the world outside the window she hadn’t heard him enter. Letting the blinds snap shut, she turned to face him.

  “He’s out there somewhere. What if he goes after my mother?”

  “You let me carry that worry. My shoulders are wider and my back a good deal stronger than yours are. I’ll find him and make him pay, I can promise you that, but he’s not sharing space with us tonight,” Shane answered, reaching out his hand so she would take it. She moved past it and walked right into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. He wrapped her up tight, then lowered his mouth to her ear, and announced, “Before we go any further, though, we need to get a few things straight. . .”

  Sage leaned her head back and looked up. “Like what? . . .”

  ***

  “Before we go any further, though, we need to get a few things straight,” Shane announced.

  “Like what?” I was confused; I thought we’d gotten past his reservations on the river.

  “I’m possessive. I don’t like to share,” Shane stated, raising his hand and fisting my hair gently at my nape, tugging until my head tilted back.

  “Sorry?”

  “I’m not like most men, Sage. I’m not some fuckin’ boy you can lead around with a leash. You need to know that now. I need complete control.”

  “Shane, I’m not…I’m not following you.”

  “I’m dominant, Sage. If you wanna be with a man like me, you gotta know what that entails. I won’t roll over for a sweet smile, but I can promise you I'll put that smile on your face each day while taking what I need from you, giving back equally in a way you won’t ever regret. And to do that, I have to control my environment.”

  It sunk in then. He wanted me to know what kind of man he was before we moved forward. That he was possessive, controlling—dominant. That to be with him, I had to let him lead or it would never work between us.

  After years of abuse and the loss of control that went along with it, I’d fought hard to gain it back. A show of dominance like this typically would have made my blood run cold and sent my hackles rising. Had it been any other man than Shane, I would have laughed in his face. Instead, my breasts swelled and my body hummed with sexual tension as the memory of the night we shared filtered through my brain. Maxine was right; I liked to be topped by the right man. I was an independent woman, who, for some reason, enjoyed being taken care of.

  How had I not seen that before?

  My breathing accelerated as I stared back at Shane, then my eyelids grew hooded and my knees weakened.

  “I don’t want a man who rolls over at my every whim. I want a man who rolls in like thunder and possesses me. I need someone who can make my body burn with one look and calm my fears wit
h a strong embrace. I want passion I can still feel between my legs the next morning, with sleepless nights and endless fights. Someone who respects me for me, who will handle me with care, yet let me fly when I need to spread my wings.”

  Shane’s eyes smoldered, the gunmetal gray turning stormy with need. “You want a perfect storm?” Shane asked

  “Yes. A beautiful storm that leaves me gasping for air, my feet searching for the ground beneath them and love so profound, time stands still in the face of it.”

  Shane sucked air into his lungs with a hiss and then slammed his mouth over mine, sealing our fate.

  He moved forward, tightening his hold on my hair until my back slammed into the wall. I neither felt the sharp pain in the back of my bruised head nor cared.

  I’d fisted his shirt in my hands, keeping him close as our tongues melded together and danced. He deepened the kiss, his hunger as wild as mine, flaring like a fever that couldn’t be quenched. Ripping his mouth from mine, he tugged my head back further and buried his head in my neck, alternating between soft kisses and raking his teeth across my skin to the point of pain. I gasped when he let me go and pulled the robe and nightgown from my body. And I moaned when he breached the waistband of my panties and cupped my bare ass, pulling me forward into his erection.

  I whimpered, “Shane,” when his hand came around to cup my core and his fingers slid between my slick flesh and danced, igniting my passion further.

  “I’m gonna breathe you in,” he whispered in my ear, “and be your anchor, your protector. I’m gonna fold myself around you so you’re never alone.”

  Oh, God! He remembered what I’d said at the carnival.

  He was everywhere at once, and all I could do was hang on. His need was desperate in a way that brought tears to my eyes. He only left my mouth long enough to let me catch my breath as his fingers brought me closer to release.

  When I tried to reach the buckle on his belt, desperate to have him deep inside me again, he grabbed my hands with the one hand and raised them over my head. “I’m in control,” he growled, pinning me further against the wall. “Keep your hands on the wall.”

 

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