by Toby Neal
She immediately did so, and her trust melted him. He dropped the morsel onto her tongue and she chewed. “Mm. Ooh, it tastes like venison with truffles and pears.”
Questions about her past, her upbringing, her years as a teacher—all the little details that made her his Sunshine—jostled in his mind, but Cash needed to tell her the truth first. Soon, he’d tell her why she should stay away from him. He’d reveal his secret, but he needed a little more time, just a few more moments like this.
“Now you.” She leaned over with a tidbit in her fingers. “This one has my secret sauce on it.”
He closed his eyes and opened his mouth.
“Mmm.” He chewed thoughtfully, eyes closed. “I taste a hint of bitter cloves, garlic and white wine.”
Sunshine laughed, and it was sexy as hell. She smelled like the fire, and the journey—so good. Everything about her was good, while he just wasn’t.
“I have to tell you something. I’ve been trying to tell you all along. Things should never have gone this far between us.”
He hated the apprehension that tightened her expressive face, but she smoothed it away in a second. “First, let me clean up and make us some hot chocolate, your majesty.” She smiled at him shyly, and he snorted a laugh, surprised.
Sunshine kept surprising him.
She heated water in a pan over the stove as he took out the butterfly knife, sharpening it. The double-sided blade always brought him comfort because it confirmed who he was when he held it. He admitted his true nature when he practiced with it: a killer, a murderer. The fact that he’d never used the outlaw weapon for anything but self-defense didn’t alter the heart of who he was. Nothing could. Not even Sunshine.
She poured plain boiling water into a mug. Steam rose from the surface, and she sniffed deeply. “Mmm. Nothing but the finest Bavarian chocolate for my prince.”
Cash wasn’t sure when ‘milord and milady’ had segued into ‘prince and princess.’ But it so closely echoed his fantasy about Sunshine that he bit the inside of his cheek to help him focus.
He placed his knife aside and took the mug from her. He sipped without responding, then set the mug down firmly. “Sunshine. I’m not reliable. I’m the Luciano screw-up. Everyone in my family knows it.” He was beating around the damn bush.
She blinked at him. “We all used to be someone else before the Scorching. I was someone else too, someone I’m just beginning to remember. But I know I’m different now. Maybe you’re different too.”
“No. There’s this terrible thing I did.”
“I’ve got terrible things in my past, too.” Her eyes were wet gems in the firelight.
“But those things were done to you. You were a victim. They weren’t your fault. I’ve done things.”
She laughed, a hard, bitter sound. “A victim. Great.” She looked into the fire.
“I’m sorry.” Cash reached for her hand. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
She turned back to him, her eyes wide and filled with trust and admiration. God, was that love? “I would have died without you in the forest. Saving me is something you’ve done.” Sunshine cast her eyes down and rubbed at a spot on her flannel shirt. “You’re right, I was a victim.” She looked up and those turquoise eyes blazed. “But I’ll never be one again. You saved my life and showed me what a good man is. You treat me like I have value, and that means everything to me.”
He was drowning in her eyes. Just one kiss, because her lips were trembling, and he couldn’t bear to see it.
Oh the goodness of her. The taste of her. The softness, the sweetness, the yearning. His desire kindled savagely, and there was nothing sweet about it. He tightened his arms around her, and she moaned into his mouth.
The kiss was more nourishing than food. She was substance to him, respite in a weary world, an oasis in the desert, and he was dying for more. He tore himself away.
She deserved better.
“You need to know the truth.” He took a deep breath, blew it out, and rolled his shoulders back. “I’m a killer.”
She frowned. “I know you’ve had to kill people. I saw what you did to those skinheads. I recognize what you’re capable of, but you were protecting me.”
“No.” His voice was low, almost a whisper. “It’s true that I’ve killed in self-defense since the Scorching but I’ve also…I’m a killer. It’s my nature.”
“I don’t believe that. I know what a killer is like, and that’s not you, Cash. You’re good inside.”
Cash took a deep breath, shaking his head. He moved back, settling on the floor. He had to make her understand. “Let me start at the beginning. My father was an undercover police officer in Philadelphia. He left the house every day and assumed another identity. Sometimes he was gone for weeks. Ultimately, he was murdered when the criminals he was investigating found out he was a cop.”
“I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his hand and he nodded, acknowledging the old wound. But he wasn’t done yet. The secret pushed at the back of his throat and his tongue fought back, not wanting to speak it. He’d held it locked down for so long.
“Your dad was shot. So that’s why you don’t like guns.” Sunshine picked up her mug, taking a sip of her “hot chocolate,” watching him over the rim of the cup.
“No. That’s not why. I haven’t told anyone why. You are the first, ever.” Cash turned away and looked into the fire, looping his arms around his knees. “Dad kept his weapons locked up in a case in the hall. He taught my brothers and me to shoot and safely handle a firearm, way earlier than Mama wanted. When I was eight, I went over to play at a friend’s house. His older sister was supposed to be babysitting us, but she’d left before I got there.” Cash looked down, his tongue thick in his mouth. “We were messing around and found his father’s gun. It was a Glock with a magazine. The gun Dad had taught us to use was a six-shot revolver, entirely different.”
Cash sneaked a glance at Sunshine. She had both hands wrapped around her mug, and she nodded at him to continue, her eyes reflecting the firelight.
“I wanted to show off. I told him I knew how to handle it and that I would teach him. I figured out how to expel the magazine, and thought all the bullets were out. Then, horsing around, I pretended to shoot him.” Cash pressed his fingers against his eyes. “Only, I did shoot him—right in the heart. I didn’t know there was a round in the chamber.”
“Oh no!” Sunshine gasped.
Cash couldn’t look at her. He pushed both hands through his hair. Tiny, sensing his distress, belly-crawled over to him, lying across his feet. Her bulky warmth helped steady him. “My friend died instantly. I don’t think he felt anything. He just had this surprised expression on his face. But there was so much blood.” The white wall spattered with it, the pool that formed around the boy’s body, the smell—that awful sickening smell. Cash swallowed down bile as the memory of that terrible moment filled his mind. “I was scared. I knew what happened to murderers. I took my friend’s hand and curled it around the gun, and made it look like he did it himself. I cleaned everything I’d touched. I knew about that from my dad’s job, too. Then I sneaked out and went home and washed my clothes. I left him that way for his family to find.” A wave of shame rolled over Cash, sucking him under, and he ground the heels of his hands into his eyes.
“You were just a kid.” Sunshine’s voice, quiet and calm, reached him. “Eight years old. Just a baby.”
“Old enough to know better. Old enough to take responsibility for my actions. Old enough to kill.” Cash clenched his jaw so tightly that it ached, and his eyes stung as he looked up at her. “I knew it was wrong. I knew it was murder.”
“It was a tragic, stupid accident.”
Cash shook his head, rejecting Sunshine’s excuses for him. “I never owned up to it.” Cash stroked Tiny, and the feel of her heavy coat comforted him. “He was my best friend. And if I could kill my best friend, then I’m capable of anything, of hurting anyone.” Cash forced one side of his mouth up in a s
emblance of a smile. “Ask anyone. Cosimo Luciano is like Cash: easy come, easy go. Can’t be counted on. Always looking for the next mountain to climb, the next adrenaline rush. Good in bed, and hard on hearts.”
Sunshine shook her head, a twinkle of humor in her eyes. “That sounds like a personals ad.”
“What?” He flared. Was she mocking him?
“What you did is the kind of thing an eight-year-old kid does when he has no idea how to cope. He avoids, and tries to get out of it. I was a teacher, remember? Third graders don’t have mature reasoning. What I can’t believe is that whoever investigated didn’t realize what had happened. Did anyone question you? Because if they had, I’m sure you would have fessed up.”
“No one knew I was there. I arrived after his sister had left and I was gone before she returned. I wiped my fingerprints away.”
“So I bet she got in terrible trouble.”
“She did.” Cash hung his head. “She ended up with a drug problem. My fault.”
“Don’t be such a martyr.”
Cash searched Sunshine’s face. There was kindness in her eyes, but also a tough glint. She didn’t see it his way at all. “His sister deserved to feel guilty for her part. Would knowing you shot him have made it easier on her? Either way, she was supposed to be babysitting.” Sunshine shook her head. “No, you did what you did, and then carried this toxic secret. If anything damaged your character, it was the secret, not the act. You never let yourself be challenged to care or take responsibility.”
Cash nodded, the truth of her words penetrating, a double-sided comfort. “I’m always quitting and moving on. I never settled into any position as a firefighter. I moved around every six months to a year to avoid becoming too attached to anyone. But I like helping people.”
“When we reach the Haven, you should tell your family.”
“No, no. I can’t.” Panic tightened his breath.
“Do you think it matters in the scope of all that’s happened?” Sunshine gestured with her hands. “Millions have died, Cash. Don’t you think your family will just be sad you didn’t trust them enough to confess and allow them to take care of you through it?”
Cash covered his face with his hands. He had no answer to that, because its truth reverberated through him. He pictured his mother’s face, and his brothers’. They’d all tried to comfort him when his friend died, not understanding his stoic silence and withdrawal. “His name was Tony. Antonio Fortina Jr.” Cash’s unexpressed grief ruptured suddenly in a tortured sob. “I miss him still! I never had another close friend!”
The sobbing felt like a storm, battering him about, harsh and terrible. But Sunshine’s arms were strong enough to hold him through it, her soft hand smoothing the rumpled hair off his forehead as he buried his face in her breasts and let himself be eight years old again.
Chapter Nineteen
Sunshine
Jolene ran her hand over Cash’s hair, the silky texture sliding between her fingers as she smoothed a loose curl. With each stroke, a new memory was revealed.
Like when she cleaned the windows of the cabin a few days earlier, every swipe of the newspaper clarified the waterfall beyond, revealing the rainbow in the sunlight. Now each touch of her hand on Cash’s wild locks demystified her past.
His wretched sobbing, the exorcism she had watched unfold in her arms, was the same echo of pain she heard in her own head as her former life revealed itself.
Cash’s cheek rested on her lap. His arm wrapped tightly around her waist and his face was turned away, staring into the fire, as hot tears continued to fall.
Her love for Cash was the throbbing center of her being.
With each burst of insight, each flash of knowing, she returned to that aching core of pure love. Cash’s pain mirrored her own. In Sunshine’s past she’d played the victim, and in Cash’s he’d played the killer.
But those parts weren’t who they were.
As daughter, sister, teacher, and friend, Sunshine had traveled through life trying to be good to avoid getting hurt.
It had never worked. She’d been injured and abused, and she wasn’t good, either. She wanted Cash in a way that had an edge of desperation to it. She couldn’t touch him without wanting him in the worst way, even now when he was hurting and vulnerable.
Cash had spent his life atoning for his sin by trying to save people, and at the same time walling himself off from emotional attachment. But he had treated Sunshine like the brave, strong woman she was.
She would show him who he was to her: the love of her life.
Sunshine tangled her fingers in Cash’s silky hair, the color of wheat, gold, and rich earth. She leaned over and whispered into his ear. The words spilled like droplets from a leaf, gravity pulling them from her lips. “I love you.”
Cash shot up and pushed away from her, blue eyes blazing in his splotchy, swollen face. “No.” His voice was a croak. “You can’t. Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“You can’t spend your whole life trying to be good.” Sunshine’s voice was low and confident. “Because you’re not good. You’re dangerous. A hunter, a stalker, a predator.”
He nodded. “Then you get what I’ve been telling you.”
“And I’m sick of being good.” She’d stopped speaking with her mother and escaped Dwight, but they had still controlled her. She’d been a good girl for them, trying to follow rules they’d violently drilled into her growing up:
Don’t be a slut.
Keep your voice down.
Keep your thoughts to yourself.
Be a good girl.
Like the sun Cash had named her for, Jolene wasn’t just warmth and light. She was scorching and deadly, too. And she wanted to explore her dark side.
Sunshine moved up onto her knees and looked deeply into Cash’s eyes. He tilted his head, confused, but recognizing her desire.
“I want you to fuck me until I scream your name. I’m done being a good girl.”
Cash’s mouth dropped open as his eyes widened with his own burning desire.
“You’re a dangerous woman, with that language.” His voice was a husky growl that made heat pool between her thighs.
“And you’re a dangerous man but I’m not afraid of you,” Jolene growled right back. “I dare you to be who you really are with me.”
He came to her like a stalking panther, looming over her, bearing her down beneath him. He slid between her opened thighs, his erection grinding against her heat. “That’s so damn sexy, Sunshine. Holy shit.”
“I burn for you.”
His pupils dilated and he ripped open her shirt so that buttons skittered across the worn wooden floor. His mouth plundered hers, claiming her, and she claimed him right back. He bit her nipple and pain zinged through her, stoking the flames licking up her body, making her arch and cry.
His lips on her neck, his breath on her throat, his teeth grazing her skin were all pure, electric, incredible sensation.
“Fuck me,” she hissed. “Hard.”
He bit her neck and pulled her shirt off over her head, the sleeves catching around her wrists. He kissed her with brutal, sweet thoroughness, his full weight bearing down onto the twisted cloth that still held her hands. Cutting off her circulation. Binding her to him.
“Yes! Yes!” she screamed, thrusting her hips upward. Cash caressed her, and she wriggled, encouraging him.
“Stay still, Princess. I just want to look at you for a minute.”
He released her hands and stripped her naked. The warmth of the fire flickered over her bare skin. He trailed a finger from her nipple over her ribs down to her center. Sunshine’s eyes closed, her body humming under him, an orchestra waiting for the maestro to begin.
The light and heat from the fireplace glowed in Cash’s blue eyes. His fingertip circled her bundle of nerves and made the molten core at Sunshine’s center throb painfully. “I want to fuck you.” His voice was low and hoarse as his gaze raked her body.
“But you’re ho
lding back.”
Cash looked her in the eyes. His hand on her stilled. The fireman was trying to douse the blaze.
“You know we both want to.”
“We don’t have a condom.” He resumed his skillful working of her, and she lifted her head off the floor to watch. His rhythm quickened as he stroked her. She felt that coiled heat tightening within her. She was going to come, regardless, but she wanted him inside her.
Sunshine looked up into his hot blue gaze. “I’m begging you. Please.”
Cash’s eyes darkened as he let go of his inhibitions. There was no stopping the inferno from consuming them now.
Good.
She was ready to burn.
Cash tore off his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest, and the undulating muscles of his arms. She stayed where she was, her arms bound above her head by the tangled shirt, as he unzipped his jeans, pushing them down, taking his boxers with them. She’d tasted him with her mouth last time and now she feasted on him with her eyes, delighting in every sculpted muscle, every throbbing vein, the hunger in his gaze, the cruel smile curling his lips. Cash was hers.
Sunshine opened for him, releasing all fears, and welcomed the velvety steel of his manhood filling her. She threw her head back, stretching to accommodate, feeling his trembling need poised above her. She was filled to the brim and yet still hungry. “Yes,” she hissed. “Yes, yes, give it to me.”
Her words spurred him on and the intensity grew with each stroke as Cash thrust faster, firmer, rougher. Sunshine moved across the floor, carried by the force of their lovemaking, by their gripping passion. She screamed out her pleasure, releasing the fullness of her emotion. Cash made her feel powerful, taken, and safe.
“Say my name,” he growled.
“Cash! Cash! Cash!”