Dream Under the Hill (Oberon Book 8)

by P. G. Forte

  “Their kids?”

  “Well, yeah. Probably,” Liam admitted reluctantly.

  “Fuck,” Nick muttered and lapsed into a disgusted silence.

  A very dangerous silence, Liam decided as the minutes ticked by and he felt the anger welling up inside the other man. He knew Nick was thinking of his daughter; his very pretty, teen age daughter. The kind of girl Jim Phelps would have had a field day with.

  “Look,” Liam soothed. “It’s only one day. And, trust me, Gregg doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who wants a pack of kids around for any longer than that. I’m pretty sure it’s not something he’s gonna make a habit of.”

  Nick shook his head, and shot him a look that said, plain as day, that you never could tell what some low-life like Gregg might decide to make a habit of.

  Unfortunately, it was an opinion Liam shared. Once again he saw that flash of fear in Cara’s eyes, heard the faintly menacing tone in Gregg’s voice as he addressed her. Pet? He called her pet? What kind of sick shit was that?

  Not a good sign. And, definitely not a good topic to bring up just now, even if he couldn’t stop thinking about it…

  She’d been there again last night, just as she said she would be, and he finally learned her name. So far, that was all the information he’d managed to get from her.

  He still had no idea who she might belong to, or what brought her there. But it was obvious from the way she was treated, that she was not just a hanger on.

  The other asylum inmates – as Liam had come to think of TLV’s residents – appeared to dote on her. They deferred to her judgement, and seemed willing, even eager, to take direction from her. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear they all had crushes on her.

  Guests and visitors, on the other hand, especially the women, seemed universally predisposed to despise her.

  It was probably her youth, Liam thought, and her looks. And the fact that she flaunted them both; gleefully throwing them right in the faces of people like Lauren, from what he had seen.

  Still, as much as he wanted to pick up every stray fact about her that he could find, much as he wanted to ask Nick to run a complete background check on the girl, it was not gonna happen. The idea that there might already be one teenage girl in residence at TLV, with its implication that Gregg would likely welcome more, would surely freak the older man out; so it was definitely not on Nick’s need to know list.

  “Your daughter will be okay,” Liam said, attempting to reassure him. “I’ll let you know if anything looks to be a problem. There’s no need for you to say anything to Lauren about this yet.”

  Nick just shook his head. “That’s not for you to decide. Where my kids are concerned, I don’t take chances.”

  Ah, but you’re not the only one taking chances, are you? Liam sipped at his beer, hoping to hide the sudden flurry of nerves. However much he might want to applaud Nick’s commitment to his kids, he couldn’t allow him to close the place down, either. Not yet. Not before he had a little more time to ferret around inside the place, and see what he could learn. He didn’t believe in coincidences. There had to be some link between this TLV, and the one in Ohio; the one Jim Phelps had walked away from. There had to be some clue here that would lead him to his stepfather.

  All he needed now was the time to find it.

  Liam frowned. “Look, Greco, don’t make me sorry I told you what I learned there. I mean it. Don’t mess things up for me.”

  Nick met his eyes and smiled coldly. “Let’s get something straight. I don’t know what you’re up to in there, and I don’t really care. I’m not looking to step on anyone’s toes. But if one of my family is involved, then all bets are off. I don’t need you telling me how to protect them. And I’m gonna do whatever I have to do, whether it suits your plans or not.”

  “Fine,” Liam snarled as he got to his feet, unwilling to endure another minute of the other man’s company, acutely aware that the truce between them was at an end. They were both on their own now, from here on in. “I got you. And, since it seems you and I might not be so different, after all, maybe you ought to remember one thing. You’re not the only one with a family to think about, Nick. And I’m gonna do what I have to do, too.”

  * * *

  Seth stroked his fingers over the image on his computer screen. Deirdre looked just as he remembered her. Gently, he traced the curves of her face, recalling all too well the warmth of her skin, the silk of her hair. If only he could be touching them now, instead of imagining…

  It had been two years since he’d seen her. And, he’d just about given up hoping he’d ever see her again. Trust Ray to fix that. He had to admit it, the brother was a genius. Once he knew what was in Seth’s mind, if hadn’t taken him more than a week to track the girl through the internet, and come up with her blog.

  Six hundred and ninety two friends. Seth stared at the number, wondering if he dared add his name to the list.

  Would she block him, if he tried it? Would she turn him down? Would she even recognize him? Could he take the risk?

  He read over her information greedily; her likes and dislikes. Her hobbies and plans. Her wishes. Her dreams for the future. They were all as he remembered, or as he’d imagined they’d be.

  And even if her fondest, most secret wish really was to be reunited with her lost love, as Seth hoped it might be, he knew it was too much to expect that she would have revealed it here. And of course, she had not.

  It was his wish though. It had been for some time now. He just wondered if this was as close as he’d ever get to making it come true.

  He stared hard at the face on the screen. Looked again at the list of friends. And then bookmarked the page for another time.

  After all those months, it was enough, for now, just to see her again. The idea that she could be back in his life– Even a little. Even at a distance. That was going to take some getting used to.

  He needed time to acclimate to the concept of actually exchanging words on line with her, never mind speaking on the phone. Or face to face.

  In the meantime, he was content just knowing that he’d found her. That she was no longer irretrievably lost to him. That he could see her face from time to time. Read her thoughts. Vicariously share in her life. It was enough.

  Everything else…could wait.

  Chapter Ten

  The Lord is become my rock, my fortress, my deliverer;

  and in Him will I put my trust.

  Communion Prayer

  For the Saturday after the Fourth Sunday in Lent

  Saturday night’s meeting at TLV was different from the others Liam had attended; it was more intense, more focused, longer. This time, there were only a handful of outsiders in attendance, not even Lauren was present. Gregg spent less time preaching, and more time raising the energy in the room, until it had reached a truly uncomfortable pitch. The meditation seemed never ending. Liam was more grateful than ever for Cara’s calming presence.

  This time, however, he didn’t immediately seek her out when the meeting ended. Tuning into her energy to help keep him grounded was one thing. Wasting valuable time trying to puzzle the girl out, when he should be concentrating on other things, that was something else altogether. It was a mistake. A distraction. It was a pleasure he could no longer afford.

  Last night’s scene with Nick had left him with the pervasive fear that time might run out before he accomplished his objective. He was here in hopes of finding a link to Dagoba; of learning something – anything – that might lead him to Jack or to Amy. Nothing else mattered.

  He couldn’t allow idle curiosity, or a pretty face, to lure him from his mission. He wouldn’t let anything deflect him or stand in his way. He’d studied the evidence that had been collected after the explosion, he’d examined the records, he knew the chances that one, or both of his siblings might have somehow, miraculously, survived the conflagration that had claimed their mother’s life were exceedingly slim, but what did that matter? He couldn’t abandon the
search until he knew for certain they were both dead. Or, until he’d exhausted every possible lead.

  The need to expiate his guilt, to learn the truth, to find closure, had driven him for most of his life. If he let that go... what would he have left?

  * * *

  Cara kept one eye on Liam, watching as he worked his way around the room, cozying up first to one group, and then the next. What was he doing, anyway? Was he so sure Gregg would invite him to stay that he’d decided to get a jump start on introducing himself to his new housemates? Or maybe he was campaigning. Maybe he thought Gregg would put things like that to a vote. As if.

  What he should have done was to come to her. Everyone else understood that was how things worked around here; that they had to go through her, if they wanted anything from Gregg. Well, okay, not quite everyone got that. Most of the guys did, though. And Liam was definitely a guy. So she was kind of surprised he hadn’t figured that out yet.

  She poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned back against the table, watching the room, absently tugging at her skirt, which kept riding up. The skirt was too short to begin with, and a little too tight, as well. The only reason she was wearing it was because Gregg liked it. He’d been angry all day, and she was hoping the skirt would cheer him. She gave it another sharp tug, and winced as the bandage on her wrist brushed against her thigh and sent pain shooting up her arm. Shit, it was really hurting her tonight.

  Gregg had cut her again – a little more deeply than before. And she wasn’t all that certain he hadn’t done it that way on purpose, either. He’d been in a weird ass mood when she got back yesterday. Cold. Angry. Meaner than usual. Almost like he knew she’d been to see Seth. And then, when he had her in bed... it was almost as if he were making a point. Making sure she understood who she belonged to.

  Seth...

  No. She sipped her coffee, glanced around the room again, and completely ignored that idiot voice whispering in her mind. God, what a stupid idea that was. She so did not belong to Seth. She never had. Seth wasn’t even remotely interested in her. He was in love with a phantom. Some ghost of a girl he hadn’t seen in a billion years, and probably never would again. And, all the while, here she was...

  But that was guys for you, wasn’t it? Idiots. All of them. She didn’t need Seth dumb ass Cavanaugh, anyhow. Other than for tutoring, that is. For everything else... she had Gregg. And that should be enough for anyone.

  She shuddered just a little as she thought of that. More than enough, sometimes. Really, it made her wonder why she even bothered with guys at all. They weren’t worth it, that was for sure. They were nothing but a big, fat pain most of the time. Even Gregg. Hell, especially Gregg.

  Pain and pleasure...

  She had no idea why people always said those two things went together. They didn’t. There was nothing pleasurable about pain, other than when it finally stopped. And feeling good really didn’t have to hurt, not unless you wanted it to. Which she didn’t. Which she couldn’t seem to make Gregg understand. Stupid, stupid, stupid...

  She slammed the coffee cup down on the table, ignoring the startled looks from those close enough to notice, crossing her arms and glaring at the whole room. Would this evening never be over? She was tired, damn it. After a lousy couple of days and an even worse night, she’d had enough. She wanted to jump on the table and yell at everyone to clear out. Leave. Go home. Go away – so she could go to bed. Or she wanted to crawl beneath the table and disappear. Curl up on the floor, where no one would think to look for her. Go to sleep. Stay there until morning. Safe. Hidden. No one to bother her.

  Not that anyone was bothering her, at the moment. Like Liam, for instance. He didn’t even seem to realize she was here tonight. She tried not to feel hurt about that, about the way he was ignoring her. Tried not to feel too disappointed that, for once, he wasn’t hanging around all night, pestering her with questions.

  Because, crap, why would she be disappointed about something like that, for? Was she crazy? That wasn’t anything she wanted. He’d been a major, freakin’ pain in the ass, the last two times he’d been here; getting in her way, asking too many questions, and just…hanging around and hanging around, until she was sure Gregg would notice and get mad. Shit, she was glad to be rid of him.

  All she really wanted was for Gregg to be finished interviewing people in his office—which also happened to be their bedroom. She just wanted to be able to say goodnight and pass out for a good six, or eight hours. With none of Gregg’s middle-of-the-night bullshit prayer circle drills to disturb her. No requests that she get up and fix him a snack. No demands that she roll over and let him snack on her.

  No handcuffs. No straps. No knives.

  Just a solid night of nothing. Yeah, and how likely was that to happen? Not too. And, with Gregg still ticked off at her, like he probably was? Even less so.

  She shot another glance at Liam – who was still ignoring her. He’d been on the list of people Gregg wanted to meet with tonight, too, wasn’t he? Great. It looked like she’d been right the first time. This night would never be over. It would just go on and on and– oh, fuck, no. Not now…

  * * *

  Liam excused himself from the group he was in, and made his way across the room to where Cara was standing, arms crossed, glowering at him. Her eyes flickered away as he approached.

  “Okay, what’s wrong?” he asked as he came to a stop in front of her.

  She shifted restlessly, looked up at him for a moment, and then shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure, you do,” he replied, stifling his impatience when her eyes went wide and she treated him to the blankest, most innocent-looking stare he’d ever yet seen, “I’m talking about the way you’ve been glaring at me all night. If your eyes were lasers I’d have two holes burned in the back of my skull by now.”

  “Get over yourself, dude,” she advised as she turned away, and started pouring coffee once again. “I was so not staring at you.”

  “You were, and, I’d like to know why. Are you mad at me?”

  Cara huffed out an exasperated breath. She shook her head, then she turned back around and handed him the cup. “Look, I’m not mad and I wasn’t staring – okay?” She shrugged and put on the innocent act again. “I suppose I was just surprised to see you. I’d almost forgotten you were here tonight.”

  “Is that a fact?” Liam asked, knowing darn well it wasn’t. And then, even though he was still pretty sure she was just a kid and way too young for him, he couldn’t help but tease her. “So, what is it you’re not saying? You missed me?”

  Her pretty face heated up. “As if!” she muttered, dropping her gaze, refusing to meet his eyes. “No. Not even.”

  “Oh, I think that must be it,” Liam continued to tease, smiling at her embarrassment. She looked even cuter with her face all flushed. Then his eyes focused on her hand as it rubbed her wrist, at the bandage encircling her arm. His smile flatlined. A trickle of dread sluiced through him. “What happened to your arm?”

  She glanced at him quickly, eyebrows raised in surprise. And then, just as quickly, looked away again. Dropping her gaze once more and shrugging negligently. “Nothing. I- I cut myself.”

  “Was it on purpose?”

  That brought her head back up in a hurry. “What? Why would you say that?”

  “Because I know it’s something a lot of girls do,” he said, feeling a sudden surge of sympathy for her. “Unhappy girls. Troubled girls.” Sick girls who need help. Girls who don’t belong within miles of a place like this. “You want to talk about it?”

  Cara’s eyes widened. “You- you mean, you think I– No.” She shook her head vigorously. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. That’s not– That isn’t what happened.”

  “Oh, really?” Liam studied her face, trying to read the look in her eyes. But they told him nothing. Either she was damn good at playing dumb, or he was dead wrong about her being a cutter. Dead being the operative word here. He needed
everything working for him while he was in this place. He needed all his instincts, all the time, or he could very well end up dead, himself.

  “Look,” he urged her. “You can trust me. If there’s something–”

  “No,” she said, straightening quickly, warning him to silence with her eyes. She shook her head. “No, I don’t need any help cleaning up. But, thank you for asking.”

  Huh? Liam blinked and then went still as the air around him seemed to chill. He turned to find Gregg observing him with cold curiosity in his eyes and a smile of reptilian slyness curving his lips.

  Ah, fuck. Liam stifled a groan. “Gregg. Hi. I-”

  “I’d like a word with you,” Gregg said smoothly, interrupting him without the least regret, taking his acquiescence for granted. “Now would be convenient.” Then he turned back to Cara, to fluster her further. “See the gentleman to my office, would you, pet? Make sure he has everything he needs.”

  Cara nodded quickly. “Sure. Come on. I’ll take you up.”

  Gregg caught her arm as she brushed past him, forcing her to a halt. “And, wait for me there,” he murmured. “Understand?”

  Once again, Cara nodded, eyelids fluttering nervously, lashes fanning overheated cheeks. And once again Liam caught a glimpse of something in her eyes. Something he didn’t understand. Some inner agitation that appeared to have gripped her. Something that was not exactly fear, not quite anticipation. Nothing at all that he could put a name to. Something he really didn’t like.

  * * *

  Gregg watched as Cara led Liam from the room. He was not particularly happy with her at the moment. He hadn’t wanted to struggle with her last night. For once, he hadn’t been in the mood to have her resist him. He’d been tired, preoccupied. He had a lot on his mind. And, all he’d wanted, at the end of the day, was to fuck her fast and fall asleep. But had she let him do that? No. No, she hadn’t. She’d made him exert himself, when he’d only wanted to kick back and be serviced. She had to know by now; things went badly for her, if she didn’t do as she was told. But the little bitch was stubborn. Willful. Rebellious...