“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she yells, but the way her eyes widen I know she didn’t mean to say the words aloud.
Pushing myself off my seat, I place my hands on her arms. “Tell me who you’re worried about? Your mother? Because she’s dug her own grave. You don’t owe her anything.”
A shiver races through her body, and I feel it beneath my palms.
Her voice is ragged, strained, full of exhaustion. “Just get me the money. Please.”
“Lorelei, I know Farkas. Whatever he says you owe, he won’t be satisfied. You’ll be walking into a trap.”
“I have no other choice.”
“You do. You can let me take him down.”
She jerks away from me. “No police.”
“Lor–”
With surprising speed, she pulls the pistol from her hip and points it at me. “Take me back, now.”
I hold her gaze. It isn’t the first time I’ve had a gun aimed in my direction, but it is the first time I’ve been more pissed than scared.
“You’re going to shoot me?”
Her hands shake as she aims the gun at my chest. “I’ll do what I have to.”
It would take me less than a second to disarm her, but I have a feeling that if I take the gun away–her last sense of control–she’ll lose whatever remaining sanity she has left. Which doesn't seem like a lot considering her actions.
“Think about what you’re doing, Lorelei.” I keep my voice low, calm, my gaze trained on her. “You’re pointing a gun at a police officer. Earlier, you were what? About to rob a bank? This isn’t going to end well for you.”
“I don’t have a choice,” she repeats.
“There’s always a choice.”
She swallows, hands still shaking, and while I don’t think she’d actually pull the trigger, I don’t trust that she won’t accidentally do it. “You said you want to help.”
“I do,” I say with a calmness I don’t feel.
“Then help me. Get me the money.”
“Okay.” I make a small move towards her. “Just put the damn gun down.”
She keeps it pointed at my chest. “I need your word.”
“You have it.” I take another step towards her and place my hand over hers, but her fingers remain cemented around the weapon. “Let go, Lorelei.”
“Promise me, no police. I do this alone.”
“Lorelei–”
“Promise.”
I give a small nod, even though I have no intention of letting her anywhere near Farkas or his men ever again.
Slowly, her fingers loosen, and I take the gun. As soon as it’s in my hand, I realize by the weight of it that it’s not loaded. I pull open the chamber and confirm what I already know–it’s empty.
Shit. I’m starting to think she has a death wish.
Tucking the weapon in the waist of my jeans, I pull my t-shirt over it. I still haven’t gotten any answers, but I know she’s not going to give me any right now. I need to get her somewhere safe.
“It’s going to take me a couple days to get that type of money.”
“A couple days?” The panic is back in her voice. “But I need it now.”
“Farkas waited eleven years for the money, he can wait that much longer.”
“But I can’t wait that long.”
A large wave rocks the boat and she falls into me, her palms hitting my chest. I wrap my arms around her waist, steadying her, and it’s like all the adrenaline that was keeping her upright depletes in that moment as she sags into me with a whimper-like sob.
“I’ve got you.” Despite the cold wind that whips around us, warmth floods through me. Her body always fit perfectly against mine. I sit in the driver’s seat, pulling her into my lap when her tears start to fall.
Even though I hate the grief I hear in each hiccup, each shaky breath, each incoherent word, it feels like a small breakthrough.
I press my lips to the top of her head and say, “You’re safe.”
“I’m so...tired...”
I can feel the heaviness of sleep on her. “When was the last time you slept?”
“Can’t sleep...no time...need...” She lets out a shaky breath. “You promise...you’ll get me the money.”
“I promise. Close your eyes. You can rest while I take us back.”
“I just need...” She yawns and her fingers curls in my shirt. “Just a few minutes...”
“Where are you staying?”
“Nowhere...I have nowhere...”
All of her weight is in my arms, and when I pull back slightly, her eyes are closed. I press my lips against the top of her head, sighing. “You’ve always had somewhere, Lor.”
Chapter 4
Lorelei
When I open my eyes, the sky above me is filled with purples, pinks, and brilliant oranges and yellows, behind giant puffy clouds. The type of clouds Nolan and I would spend hours watching, finding dragons and lions and warriors battling in the sky. It was one of his favorite games when he was younger. But lately, I haven’t been able to get him to look up from whatever new war game he’s been playing on his phone.
He’s stubborn, just like his father, and we’ve butted heads more than I care to admit. I wish now I could take back all those little arguments, knowing how insignificant they were.
His teeth weren’t going to fall out if he didn’t brush them three times a day. And did it really matter if he had a second bowl of ice cream after dinner? Or wear the same shirt two days in a row?
I must drift back to sleep, because when I open my eyes again the sky is a darker shade of purple and crickets have begun their nightly symphony.
The gentle rocking around me confirms I’m still on the boat, and a heavy blanket is wrapped around my shoulders. A blanket that smells like Damon. After all these years, I still remember his scent. Intoxicating like a summer day, clean, crisp, with a hint of spice. I wonder if he still wears the same cologne.
Still in a dream-like state, my body warms at the memory of his arms around me. The strength in his body, the gentleness in his touch. God, I could get lost in that touch.
But I don’t have that luxury.
I have Nolan.
Nolan.
Like a block of cement hitting my chest, anxiety crushes me as I wake up fully.
Oh God, what if Farkas tried to call me while I was sleeping, and I missed him?
I sit up a little too quickly, and my head spins, reminding me I have had barely anything to eat in almost three days. I almost do a face plant reaching for my bag.
Steadying myself, I pull out the flip phone the guy gave me at the diner and open it, but there are no new calls recorded.
Thank God.
I should never have fallen asleep. Never let the false sense of security of Damon’s arms let me think everything would be okay.
Nothing is okay. Especially not the ache in my chest I’ve felt since I looked up and found those dark, piercing eyes staring at me. The familiar face that’s older now, but even more handsome than before, brought with it a rush of emotions I’d thought I long since buried.
Eleven years, and he still has the power to unravel me, to make my body tremble and my heart beat wildly.
Which means he still has the ability to hurt me.
“You’re awake.”
I jump at the man’s deep voice.
Damon hovers above me on the dock. From this position, he looks massive. He was always in good shape, lean and defined, but now his arms are thick with corded muscle, and the way his t-shirt stretches across his chest and stomach, I can see the detail of his abs. He’s not wearing the baseball cap anymore, and I notice that his hair is cropped short, and the dark scruff that coats his jaw only adds to the feeling that this isn’t a man to mess with.
Eleven years ago, he’d been beautiful. Now, with the ink that covers his arms and the hardness the years have added to his features, the man is dangerously sexy.
I swallow hard, thinking about anything other than
the way his body felt when he held me earlier.
“Are you feeling any better?” He reaches into the boat, holding out his hand for me to take.
I stand, my legs wobbling, and let him help me onto the dock. When he reaches for my duffle bag, I pull it back, my grip tightening around it. He already took my gun, I won’t let him take this, too. Not that there’s much in it–my wallet, with all my maxed-out credit cards, bullets for the gun I no longer have, pictures of Nolan, and most importantly, the disposable phone that Farkas’ guy gave me.
Damon frowns at me but doesn’t try again to take my bag.
“Where are we?” There’s nothing around us but a single-story house at the end of the dock, partially hidden by fir trees.
“My place. You said you didn’t have anywhere to stay, so I thought–”
“You brought me to Port Clover?” The panic returns. This is Farkas’ territory. He has eyes everywhere.
“You’re safe here.”
I want to yell at him, that I don’t care about my own safety, that it’s not myself I’m worried about. But if I do, then I know I’m going to have to tell him the truth. That I’ll have to tell him about Nolan.
About his son.
I can’t. Not now. Not after all these years. He’ll hate me for it.
Sure, I had my reasons for not telling him. So many damn reasons they kept me up at night.
It wasn’t just Farkas I was worried about. He probably would have killed Damon if he knew the man had taken my virginity. But even if I didn’t have the fear of a psychopath hunting me down, I didn’t want to face the rejection I knew I’d see in Damon’s eyes if I ever told him.
Because to him I was...just a good lay.
I shiver as the memory of his words whips through me, cold and slicing like the wind that now comes off the lake.
“Let’s go inside.” Damon places a large palm on my cheek, tilting my face upward, and I hate how that single touch warms my very core, replacing the chill.
Every inch of him is commanding and rugged and all male. But there’s a kindness in his eyes, one that fills me, pulls me into him like he has his own gravitational force. But he broke my heart once. I can’t fall for his charm again.
“Lorelei?” he says, searching for something he’ll never find. Because I’m not the same girl who left all those years ago. And the last thing I need right now is this man melting the hard edges that have kept me safe all these years.
But I’m not safe now.
And he’s here. Offering to help.
Don’t trust him, my heart warns. He’ll just hurt you again. Or worse, hurt Nolan.
But the way he’s looking at me now, with emotion tugging at his features, I wonder if maybe I was wrong not to give him a chance to be part of his son’s life. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Or maybe Farkas would have just found me sooner.
“What are you thinking?” Dark eyes study me like he’s trying to dig into the deepest parts of my soul. Like...he cares.
Tell him, my brain demands.
And risk him not giving me the money. Or worse, getting the police involved. No way. Maybe after I have Nolan back. Maybe then, I can tell him the truth. Until then, I need to play it cool.
“I’m starving.” I step away from him and rub my arms as another cold gust of wind whips around me. “Do you have anything to eat?”
“Sure.” He places his hand on my lower back and guides me down the dock. “I’ll make us some dinner.”
I raise my brows at him, remembering the boy who couldn’t follow the directions on an instant rice box. “You cook now?”
He chuckles. “I’ve lived on my own for ten years. It was either learn some culinary skills or starve.”
“You never got married?” Shit. I shouldn’t have asked that. I shouldn’t care. But I do.
His jaw twitches and his gaze stays focused ahead. “No. What about you?”
“No.” The few dates I went on over the years never amounted to much, and I never met anyone I trusted enough around Nolan.
And I never got over you.
He stops me at the door. His voice is haunted when he asks, “Where have you been all this time?”
“Michigan.”
“Michigan?” He frowns, then roughs a hand over the back of his neck and shakes his head. “How did you survive all this time, alone?”
“I wasn’t alone.” I had Patty and Merv, and...Nolan. “A husband and wife took me in and I started working for them at their bakery. I can make one hell of a lemon meringue pie now. That was always your favorite, right?”
A smile tugs at his lips. “You remember?”
I remember everything, and my heart hurts with those memories.
His eyes hold mine, searching, digging, and I have to look away before I let him see too deep, before he pries the secrets from me.
“I could use a shower,” I mumble, knowing I must look a mess. The past three days have been spent bartering every item I own and then travelling here, sleeping little and eating less.
He unlocks the door. “I’ll show you to the bathroom.”
I follow him through the house, which is meticulously clean. A brown leather sofa and oversized chair sit in front of a stone fireplace, with a large flat screen TV mounted above the mantle.
I only get a quick glimpse of the kitchen, but I notice all stainless steel appliances and updated cabinetry. The house isn’t large, but everything, from the baseboards to the intricate crown molding, have been thought out with detail.
“You can stay in here,” he says, opening the door, revealing a large master bedroom with a king-sized bed.
“Is this your room?” Two bay windows face the lake, and there are two other doors, one that opens to a walk-in closet and another I assume is a bathroom.
“I don’t usually have need of the guest rooms, so one is a home office and the other is just filled with boxes.” He adds quickly, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“It’s okay, I can–”
“I’m good on the couch.”
“Really, I can–”
“Lorelei,” he sighs. “I’m still trying to process the fact that you’re here. Do me this one favor and don’t argue with me.”
I open my mouth to do just that, then clamp it shut, knowing it’s not a battle worth fighting over. Plus, I could really use a good night’s sleep in a bed.
“Do you have any extra clothes?” He nods towards the bag I have slung over my shoulder.
I cringe, because in my rush to get to Harristown, I’d grabbed only the essentials.
“No.”
“Leave your clothes on the bed and I’ll toss them in the wash. Go through my closet and find something to wear for now.” He turns to leave.
“Damon?”
He places a hand on the door frame and looks over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Did you call the bank?” I ask, praying he really does have that kind of money.
He hesitates before answering. “I did.”
“So, you can get it?”
More hesitation, and I wonder if he’s going to go back on his offer. “Yeah, you’ll have it.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Thank you.”
He nods before shutting the door.
When I hear his footsteps fade down the hall, I undress, leaving my clothes on the bed like he said, then head to the shower.
Under the warm stream of water, I let myself believe that everything is going to be okay. It has to be. Damon will get me the money, and Farkas will give Nolan back to me. My debt will be paid. And there will be no more hiding.
Who are you kidding? He’s never going to release you. The haunting words cloud my momentary peace.
Maybe Damon is right. But I can’t take the chance on letting him get involved. One thing Farkas hates more than me is the police. At least, the ones he doesn’t have tucked in his back pocket. And I have no doubt he’d follow through with his threat if he even got a hint I’d talked to
them.
I’m just finishing washing the shampoo out of my hair when I hear a bell-like ringing.
It takes me a second to realize what it is.
Shit.
The phone.
I slam my palm against the faucet, turning the water off, then jump out of the shower, not bothering with a towel…
And definitely not prepared for Damon to be standing by the edge of the bed, holding the disposable cell in his hands.
“What are you doing?” I cry, rushing towards him.
His eyes widen as I grab the phone from his hands. I can feel his gaze roll down my body, but I don’t even bother to cover myself. In any other situation, modesty would probably kick in, but normal human reactions were tossed out the window the second I knew Nolan was missing.
“I-I...” Damon stutters, his face turning a slight shade of red before he finally looks away. “I was getting your clothes.”
“Just be quiet.” Hair dripping water all over the floor, I flip the damp cellphone open and answer breathlessly. “Hello?”
There’s silence on the other end.
“Hello?” I repeat, my voice rising an octave as panic grips my throat.
Damon moves around me, disappearing into the bathroom.
“Hello? Please, answer me. I need to know...” I glance at the bathroom door, then lower my voice. “I need to know he’s okay.”
“Where’s my money, Lorelei?” Gritty and raw, I recognize the voice.
“Farkas.” Saying his name out loud intensifies the fear spiraling in my chest. “I’ll get it. Please...”
A heaviness falls over my shoulders, and it takes me a second to realize Damon has covered me with a large terry cloth robe.
I can feel his eyes on me, the hardness of his gaze. I know he’s listening and analyzing every word I say.
“Just don’t...” I turn my back on Damon. “Don’t hurt him.”
“Two days, sugar.”
I shiver at the nickname he used to call me, knowing there’s no tenderness in the word.
“That’s all I’m giving you. And you can add another ten grand for the inconvenience.”
“Okay.” I’ll agree to anything right now. “Just tell me where to meet you.”
Salvage (Savages and Saints Book 3) Page 4