Senseless Fate (Cascade Storms Book 2)

by Claire Ryann

  Anthony had made it clear to his bride that the only thing he'd done was settle.

  Kara pulled herself out of the shower but not out of her thoughts. She worked a comb through her hair, back to its natural color but still growing out of the short cut. She rummaged through the case of generic toiletries and brushed her teeth.

  She'd spent the first year making excuses. Blaming herself. Trying to be a better wife.

  Anthony grew more distant and more abusive but he wouldn't stop fucking her. He couldn't. Grandpa had made it clear that he wasn't going to sign over any part of his company till Anthony proved he was a family man.

  Kara had spent the greater part of her marriage being chastised for not getting pregnant. Anthony sent her to specialists to make sure she was fertile but he refused to take any of the doctors' advice. Most importantly-- to make sure that Kara was relaxed and not stressed out.

  She had tried to leave him the old fashioned way at one point. It had taken her 4 weeks and 3 broken fingers to screw up the courage to tell him to his face that she was going to move out. That it was obvious that she wasn't who he thought she was and that she was never going to be what he wanted. That she just wanted out.

  Kara blinked. It was easy to force back the tears, not so easy to stop the memory of the consequences of her actions from flowing along with the rest of her thoughts.

  The good news had been that she'd gotten pregnant.

  The bad news was that she'd gotten pregnant.

  Hard to believe it had been over a year already, Kara squared her shoulders and searched through the clothes that had been purchased and left in the duffle for her. Not much, just a couple pairs of jeans, a couple t-shirts, and a heavy sweater. Just enough to get her on the road. If she needed something else, she had money.

  She had so been so stupid. Thinking that he would be excited by her news. Thinking that after all he'd done to her that finding out that she was finally pregnant was somehow going to change everything. Bring back the Anthony she'd met at the coffee shop. Make him love her. Make him love their baby.

  That had been the night she finally understood.

  He wouldn't even take her to the hospital. He'd left her in the bathroom in a pool of her own blood, vomiting from the force of the blow and walked out on her.

  The usual channels weren't options. Anthony and his family had deep pockets and deeper ties. Her only choices were drastic ones. And permanent.

  She'd spent a lot of time on public Wi-Fi networks. Searching, delving, desperately trying to find information that would guide her through the only viable option she could come up with. She couldn't be the only woman looking for this level of out. There had to be something, someone who could help her.

  She'd gotten lucky when she found the cryptic blog that led her to the organization had listened to her story and agreed to help.

  Kara had been so relieved to find them. To be assured that she wasn't the only person who saw no other option than to fake her own death in order to escape. To know that there was an underground to help her do exactly that. Experts who understood the details so she was more likely to get away with it. Because if she got caught, her next death was unlikely to be fake.

  It had taken a year. A year of careful planning and secret meetings that took place in plain sight-- a lunch with a girlfriend, volunteering at a charity that Anthony approved of-- all the while learning what she needed to do in order to make her plan work.

  Anthony had shown little interest in her in months. It was a cruel blessing. Her body had a chance to heal but she was ashamed at her longing to be touched again. Even his rough touch was better than not being touched at all.

  She almost gave up. When her new exercise routine toned her thighs and flattened her stomach, it had caught Anthony's interest again and for a short time she was convinced that they had reached a balance that was acceptable. Then he caught another man showing interest in her, a random stranger who held the door for her at a hotel in New York that flashed her a wide, approving smile not unlike Lowell's.

  Anthony had tugged her through the lobby and into the elevator and by the time he'd pushed through the door of their suite the marks were already darkening on her pale skin. Mrs. Loupohme had felt "ill" that evening and regretfully had to miss the black tie fundraiser event that the charity was holding.

  Kara turned and looked at herself in the big mirror over the rickety dresser in the motel room. The last round of bruising had happen just the day before her death. The dark splotches were fading now but the scars from that night were still bright pink lines crossing her lower back.

  She still didn't know what he had cut her with as he'd held by the back of her neck with her face in the pillows. She hadn't known if it was to muffle her screams or if he had genuinely been trying to smother her. He'd straddled her on the bed after he'd "shown her what that guy wanted to do to her" and slashed at her back with what felt like razors. Over and over until the screams left her lungs and only sobs remained.

  She had committed suicide 2 days later, as soon as they'd returned home.

  Kara pulled the new jeans over her hips and then let the sweater fall over her head and felt so much better as soon as the soft knit hid the marks from her view.

  Anthony was behind her. She was Monica Brewer now. Or, she would be-- as soon as Lowell was in her rear view mirror for good.

  There hadn't been any helicopters hovering over the mountains during her trek, so after the first day, she'd started hoping that the burned wreckage of the car at the bottom of the cliff had been enough to convince the police-- and her in laws-- that it was an open and shut case.

  She'd worked hard to make sure there would be little doubt of her survival. The organization had been able to provide everything but an actual body. "Too risky" they said, whatwith modern DNA testing and all, but there'd been enough blood to convince most investigators that she couldn't have survived the crash. The hope was that they'd think any remains had been removed by wildlife.

  In reality she hadn't been in the car at all when it went over the cliff. She'd still had to hike 35 miles through the mountains in winter by herself. Something she'd never actually done before. Something that Anthony would never imagine her capable of. Something she'd been prepping for for the last year.

  Angela's people couldn't help her with that. Once she'd gotten in her car that day and headed out of town, they were hands off till she met up with her contact in person at the safe house in Florida. If something went wrong along the way, Kara had to suffer the consequences alone. They couldn't risk the entire operation to hold one person's hand along the way.

  Kara understood that and she'd accepted the risks.

  And so here she was, fretting over her hair in a cheap motel on some forgotten American mountain pass road that called itself a highway, risking everything because the most beautiful man in the world was waiting to have dinner with her across the street in what would, no doubt, be the worst diner in the States.

  Kara ran a lip gloss over her lips and gave her towel-dried hair a final toss. He was just being friendly, she warned herself, guys like Lowell did not fall for hot messes like Kara Loupohme. Maybe they fell for re-invented heroines like Monica Brewer, but tonight she was still Kara and Kara didn't deserve a guy like Lowell.

  8

  Lowell had tried calling back after the waitress had explained where he was and how to get there but the office phone back at the den went to voicemail. He didn't have a number to leave so they could call him back so he figured he'd try again later.

  Sounded like it was going to take about 9 hours for one of the guys to get to him. That was a long time to hang out in a diner that served the second worst coffee he'd ever tasted in his life.

  An image of Ruelle from better times flashed through his mind but he pushed it out. Something to worry about later.

  Much later, he thought as he turned to look out the window and saw Kara hurrying across the street to meet him.

  She cleaned up go
od. Her dark hair was bobbed just below her ears with long layers that framed her face and it bounced with her steps. Her hair wasn't the only thing bouncing with her steps. She was wearing a sweater that looked soft and fuzzy and it clung to the curves that had been hidden under the puffy parka earlier.

  Now he could see the deep plunge of her cleavage and the fantastic rise of her breasts. The tops jiggled hypnotically above the v-neck of the sweater but as distracting as her breasts were, he would have been a fool to let his hungry eyes stop there.

  The sweater hugged the curves of a thick, but proportional, waistline and the hem stopped shy of covering those gorgeous hips.

  Her lower half was encased in denim. This new stretchy stuff that allowed the garment to fit like second skin where her hips and thighs were round and full and clung to her calves only slightly less desperately before the hems fell over a pair of casual sneakers.

  9 hours, Lowell calculated in his mind. From when they left the den. That was almost enough time to do everything he wanted to her.

  "Hey," her voice was sweeter than he'd remembered, "did you get ahold of your buddies?"

  He walked Kara to the booth he'd laid claim to and held her hand while she slid across the bench.

  "Kinda," he said as he sat across from her, "but the kid that answered the phone hung up on me and when I called back there was no answer."

  Kara was giving him a perplexed look.

  "What?" Lowell silently ran through the story he'd concocted and couldn't see where he'd dropped the ball.

  "Some kid answered the phone but your buddies weren't there?"

  Lowell smiled, "Yeah, it's sort of a resort thing. Cell phones don't work so I had to call the office line."

  She nodded in understanding as her eyes dropped to the coffee stained menu.

  "How bout you? Is the motel's water pressure good?" Now that he could see the general shape of her whole body he had no trouble envisioning it naked and wet...and spread out beneath him trembling in need. Lowell gave his wolf a mental slap. Thoughts like that were not helping him keep his animal under wraps. Or his cock from aching.

  "Oh my gosh!" Kara's eyes rolled up in her head in ecstasy and her dark lashes fluttered.

  So much for keeping his cock from aching. Lowell imagined her making that face while he sucked her delectable clit and was very glad he had chosen a booth in the back corner where no one in the place could see him as he discretely adjusted his fly.

  He couldn't let her get away without having a taste of her cunt. Just a little taste. A little taste of her coming on his tongue and then one more taste of her coming on his cock.

  That did it. He felt the wolf lunge to the surface, the sudden heat wash over his skin, the sensation of his eyes merging with the animal so that for one fleeting moment he and the wolf both saw through each other's eyes.

  He knew what that looked like from the outside so he lowered his gaze to stare into his coffee cup, much to the wolf's dismay.

  Kara was jumpy enough, she didn't need to watch her dinner date go feral on her.

  Dinner was mediocre food served with a healthy dose of salt. Lowell could barely choke it down but Kara ate like it was her last meal.

  "No," she laughed when he chided her, "you're right, it's terrible, but after days of eating freeze dried spaghetti and beef jerky, it's amazing!"

  He liked watching her eat. The lack of shame she had as she pushed forkfuls of something masquerading as meatloaf into her mouth and chewing slowly before going in for another bite spoke of a passionate nature that enjoyed life to the fullest. She'd made easy work of a bowl of soup, a mountain of mashed potatoes, a slab of said meatloaf, and asked for a second roll.

  "Sorry," she said self-consciously as she looked down at the empty plate, "I'm not normally such a pig but, like I said, I haven't eaten real food in a while."

  She kept her eyes averted from his as she politely put her silverware on the plate and handed it to the waitress. She looked genuinely ashamed of herself and she still hadn't looked back up at him.

  Lowell recognized this behavior. When he'd first met his college girlfriend she would also cower when she expected to be reprimanded. It had taken a long time for her to realize he wasn't her father.

  Lowell's hard-on eased immediately, the heat of the wolf near his flesh running cold with anger for seconds before the wolf was back with gnashing teeth.

  Someone had hurt this precious star. This perfect, beautiful, sweet woman that he ached to hold in his arms more with each moment he spent with her. The wolf was ready to tear someone's throat out, but right here, right now, the man was in charge and there was no one to hurt, only Kara to hold.

  Lowell cleared his throat, "So, based on what the waitress tells me, I figure it's gonna take about 9 hours for my buddies to get out here. And that's once they leave, you mind if I maybe hang out with you till then?"

  Kara's lips were ruby red from the chewing she'd given them while she played with her napkin. No doubt silently waiting for him to voice some sort of scorn.

  How could he do that? She was perfect. And if she was shy about a healthy appetite, she would have to get over that when she got to the den.

  Lowell caught himself on the thought. He hadn't meant to think of her back at the den, enjoying good food and sitting across his knees while they enjoyed the company of his friends and family but there it was. So natural and instinctual he couldn't help but wonder why they weren't already there.

  Oh yeah. Because she was on her way home to some town in Florida and he had to get back to find out if his was unraveling at the seams or not.

  Kara was everything he hoped he would someday find in a mate, but Kara was human and he couldn't keep her. But he could spend one great night with her and that's what he planned to do.

  9

  Kara felt bad. She felt ashamed for being ashamed. For expecting Lowell to make the same sort of comments that Anthony would have. To see him watch her eating with a look of disgust and rebuke her for shoveling food into her mouth so fast for forgetting her table manners and not eating like a lady.

  Of course Lowell didn't say anything of the sort. Lowell just kept looking at her the way he'd been looking at her all day. Which was a look that made her press her thighs together tightly while she tried to concentrate on their dinner conversation instead of on the crazy idea of what they were going to do for 9 hours while he waited for his buddies to come get him.

  Despite feeling the exhaustion in her muscles, sleep didn't register on her list of options.

  Leaving the diner, Kara stepped into the brisk night air and shivered. She should have thought to put her parka on before she left the room but she'd been wearing it for so long she just wanted to be done with the thing. Even if she did still have a lot more winter to get through before she arrived at her new home in sunny Florida.

  Lowell moved in close beside her and dropped his arm over her shoulders. He did it with a shy smile that made it clear that even though he was trying to be a gentleman and keep her warm, he really wanted the excuse to put his arm around her.

  It was cute to see this amazingly handsome man who could have any girl he wanted, looking shyly at her like he wasn't sure she was going to let him touch her.

  Right then and there, all the questions and doubts about what she ought to do flew out of her brain. She was definitely going to let him touch her.

  She opened the door of the motel room with the real key attached to a giant plastic tab that used to have something printed on it that had long since been rubbed away.

  Lowell waited for her to step inside and then he closed the door behind them, making sure to fasten all 4 locks.

  The room was standard issue 1967 middle of nowhere motor lodge. There was a queen size bed in the middle with a sagging mattress covered by a polyester bedspread sporting a tacky orange and green pattern. The dresser was plywood covered in a wood grain patterned "veneer" that was revealed as not much more than thick paper where the corners were chipped
and splintered by hundreds-- or maybe thousands-- of careless lodgers who had hit luggage, shoes, and who knows what else against it.

  A19 inch TV sat on top of the dresser. A giant box with faux wood grain on the sides and long rabbit ear antennas pointing toward the ceiling. The mirror over the dresser was just a piece of mirrored glass held on to the wall with plastic brackets.

  There was a small round table with chipped Formica in front of the single window next to the door and a wing back chair with a faded floral pattern next to that.

  Kara's duffle bag sat next to the TV on the side of the dresser next to the bathroom door.

  The whole place smelled like 50 years of cigarette smoke and the lightbulb in the lamp next to the bed was burned out.

  Kara thought it was the most opulent hotel room she'd ever been in. It represented a major milestone in her life and the first victory of her escape plan. She'd made it through the Cascades and across the border without a single helicopter or search and rescue team. No one had given her a second glance in this tiny highway junction town, her face wasn't on the newspaper on the diner counter, she hadn't heard her name on the news on the radio playing during dinner.

  And, of course, she'd met Lowell.

  Sweet, gorgeous Lowell with the rockin' hot bod who kept smiling at her like he loved what he saw and looked at her like he wanted to see more of her.

  Maybe Kara wasn't the kind of gal who got to live happily ever after with a guy like Lowell, but this was Kara's last night on earth and she deserved to go out with a bang.

  Tomorrow, Lowell's friends would take him back to where ever home was for him and Monica Brewer would leave Kara in the dust of this ramshackle hovel calling itself a motel.

  "Sorry, it's kinda dingy," Kara felt awkward suddenly. She'd just given herself permission to take a helluva a chance and as she turned the lights on around the crowded room and saw Lowell watching her, it suddenly occurred to her that she might be seriously misinterpreting the man.