Thank God.
“Where is it?”
“In the glove compartment.”
“You left fifty thousand dollars in your truck?”
He doesn’t answer me, just turns and puts the milk in the fridge. “Where’d these groceries come from?”
“Quinn stopped by.”
He glances over his shoulder. “You saw her?”
“I think she may have recognized me.”
“If she did, she would have called me.”
“If she tells anyone I’m here–”
“She won’t.” He takes a step towards me and places his hands on my shoulders.
“But if she does–”
“Lorelei, I need you to trust me.”
Trust. It’s not something I’ve ever been good at. Doubt and worry still eat away at me, and as much as I want to believe he won’t betray me again, I’d be stupid not to learn from the past.
He sighs, and I know he feels it; the war inside me. I want to lean into him, take what he’s offering, fall into the dark depths of his eyes and let the strength I see there fill me. Let someone else fight my battles for once.
But I can’t.
“Are you hungry?” He’s close now, so close I can feel his breath on my face. His hands rest on my arms. It’s not meant to be intimate, but with him everything is.
I shouldn’t let him affect me the way he does. Shouldn’t stand there, taking the warmth like it belongs to me. What I should do is take a step back. But my feet feel like they’re cemented to the floor and my eyes are locked on his.
Heat races through me, little zings and zaps of anticipation, which only makes my guilt worse. The only thing I should be thinking about right now is Nolan.
I close my eyes and try to refocus my thoughts, but I can feel his large hands on me, the warmth of his body like a magnet pulling me closer.
His palms cup my face, and one thumb swipes across my bottom lip.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs.
I blink, and when I do, I realize how close we are.
My hands rest on his lower abs, and I feel his body tremble beneath my palms. Naked need fills his eyes.
I feel it, too, lust and want so powerful it travels through my bloodstream like lava, unravelling my sense of right and wrong, making me want things I know will only lead to heartbreak for both of us.
“When we get Nolan back, I want you to come home.”
“Home?”
He hesitates. “To Port Clover.”
I shake my head, pulling back. “I can’t come back.”
“Why not?”
“Because...” People know who I am here. Who I belonged to. That I was Farkas’ little whore. There may even be some people here who may have bet on me, although I doubt anyone in this little town could have afforded the price offered. But I don’t want Nolan knowing that part of my life. Don’t want him to feel people’s critical eyes, hear their whispers. I let out a shaky breath. “There’s nothing for me here.”
“I’m here.” Dark eyes bore into me. But it’s more than lust I see. It’s hope, and promises.
Two things I can’t afford right now. Not with him.
I step back quickly. “I...I’ll make dinner.”
His lips thin. He breathes out roughly through his nostrils. “I can do it.”
Still trembling from his touch, I start pulling out the remaining groceries from the paper bag, finding ingredients to make pasta. “Let me. I...” My body feels on fire with need for him, my hands itching to feel his flesh. “I need to do something.”
I can feel him behind me, watching. Can almost feel the words he wants to say but holds back. Words that might just break my resolve.
He says roughly, “I’m going to take a shower.”
I blow out a long breath when he disappears around the corner, sagging against the counter.
This is the same boy who broke your heart, my head reminds me. He’ll break it again if I let him.
Can’t.
Won’t.
But when his phone lights up with a message, and I catch a glimpse of a familiar name on the screen, I know that what he has planned is far worse than breaking my heart. He’s already broken my trust.
My fingers shake as I read through the short text.
A team is ready and on standby. Message me as soon as you hear from Farkas. Do not engage without back-up.
I drop the phone like it’s a piece of hot coal. Because, in a way, it is. Betrayal burns straight through me.
Trust me, he said.
Bullshit. Trust is for fools, and I’d been one to believe Damon wouldn’t lie to me. But he had. He’d gone to the authorities, placing Nolan’s life in danger.
I have to get out of here.
When I hear the shower turn on, I take quick action. After grabbing my backpack from his bedroom, I take the keys and head towards his truck. That’s where the money is.
I hop into the driver’s seat and open the glove compartment. Like everything about Damon, it’s neatly organized. I realize a terrifying truth right away. There’s no envelope, no bag...no money.
Still, frantically, I pull out everything, dumping it on the truck floor, praying I’m wrong, that he didn’t tell me another bold-faced lie. But there’s nothing. Every ounce of hope I’d felt withers inside me. I place my forehead on the steering wheel and let out a scream that terrifies even me.
Motivated by some primal force inside me, I shove the key into the ignition, knowing that even without the money, I have to leave. If I don’t, Damon will have both the Port Clover and Harristown Police Departments swarming Farkas the second he tries to contact me.
When I turn the key, the engine makes a loud grinding noise.
“Shit.”
I try again, and when it makes the same sound, I realize the damn truck is a stick shift. I’ve never driven one before, but I know the basics. Or, at least I think I do.
I place one foot on the break, and the other on a third pedal, shift the stick into what I hope is first gear, and turn the key. This time the truck starts, but as soon as I take my foot off the break it lurches a few feet ahead, straight into a mature maple tree with a sickening crunch.
It’s like every force in the universe is against me. Tears I shouldn’t cry begin to fall, spilling over my cheeks, and I let out another scream.
My anger only intensifies when I glance up and see Damon, his body dripping with water, a small towel wrapped around his waist. And he has the nerve to look infuriated.
He heads straight to the driver's side door, and even though I know there’s no way I’ll be able to outrun the man, I scoot across to the passenger side, cursing under my breath as I tumble out the door and land facedown in the dirt.
“Jesus, Lor, what the hell are you thinking?”
Hands capture my waist, and I try to push away when he pulls me against the hard wall of his muscled chest.
“Let me go,” I scream.
“No chance in hell.” He growls against the shell of my ear, twisting one arm behind my back when I try to strike him. “Why are you running?”
“I saw the text. I know what you’re planning. You lied to me. You didn’t get the money–”
“I have your money. I just lied about where I put it. I thought you’d try and run the second you had it. And I was right.”
I try to get out of his vice-like grip, to get away, but the man outweighs me by at least a hundred pounds of muscle.
“You got the police involved–”
“I am the police, Lorelei.” He twists me around, gripping my shoulders tightly. “I knew you’d be too stubborn to let me help. To do the right thing–”
“The right thing?” I can hear the hysteria in my voice. “You put Nolan’s life in danger–”
“No, Lorelei.” He holds my gaze, like he’s trying to drill the truth into me. “You put his life in danger by not contacting the authorities as soon as he went missing.”
My entire body goes cold, becau
se the second he says the words, I know there’s truth to them. But I’ve never trusted cops. When I was younger, Farkas had half the Port Clover police department in his back pocket.
“I...I just want him back,” I say shakily, tears burning my eyes.
“I know.” He pulls me against him, releasing my arm and cradling my head. “But you have to let me help you.”
What else can I do now?
It feels like defeat, like I’m giving into the enemy's demands. But Damon isn’t the enemy, Farkas is. My head just hasn’t caught up with my heart in knowing it.
Damon sighs, then reaches past me, grabbing something from the glove compartment. When I feel the cold metal wrap around my wrist, I gasp and look down at the cuff.
“What are you doing?”
“You’ve pulled a gun on me, tried to take off with my truck, which you crashed into a tree, and ran from me twice.”
I tug at the cuff. “Take this off.”
“I’m not taking any more chances. Now, give me your other wrist.”
“No way.” I pull my free hand away, hiding it behind my back. He can’t be serious. “You can’t arrest me.”
“Actually, I can.” He leans closer, so close his scent wraps around me, and I can’t help the way my knees weaken. “But I’m not. I just want to make sure you’re safe.” As if it’s a second thought, he takes the second cuff, circles it around his own wrist, and clicks it shut. “Now I know you will be.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
He leans closer, too damn close. “No more running, Lor.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“I don’t know.” The fingers of his cuffed hand thread with mine. “It isn’t so bad.”
Anger and need crowd inside me, blistering and hot, mixing so I don’t know which is which. He has my head spinning, my world tilting, making me question every choice I make, or have made.
“Damn you, Damon,” I mutter, but there’s no fight left in my words.
His lips twitch slightly. “You ready to submit to me?”
I don’t miss the double meaning. What he’s really asking for. Complete trust. Total control. He wants it all. And even though every cell in my body fights against it, I know I want it, too.
Why does the man have to be so...so...everything?
I want to stay angry with him, to fight him, to run, to do anything but give into the ridiculousness of our current situation. But when he grins down at me, exposing a dimple, I melt right back into the Damon-sized puddle that got me in the Nolan-sized mess in the first place.
He must feel it, too, because the way his body is pressed against mine, the thin fabric of the towel does little to hide the hard length of his cock, or the primal look that makes his pupils enlarge and his nostrils flare.
And maybe if I hadn’t deprived myself of a man’s touch for the past eleven years, I could easily dispel the raw hunger that builds inside me.
Sure, I had dates, and a few that actually seemed promising. But that damn trust issue always pulled me straight back to reality. That, and the fact that none of those men were the one and only man I wanted.
This one, standing in front of me now, half naked, with a look in his eyes like he could consume me whole.
And I still can’t have him.
“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“I don’t. But I can see the wheels turning in your head. Overanalyzing this.”
“I’m not,” I lie. “Because this is nothing.”
His mouth twitches, and he takes my hand and places it on his chest. “This is something. It’s...everything. You’re everything, Lorelei.”
A small whimper builds in the back of my throat. “Damon–”
“I know you don’t want to think about it right now. And I get you have a whole life outside of Port Clover, outside of me. But when you disappeared...” He glances away, and the pain that tugs at his features guts me. “When you left, my life stopped.”
Walls. Where are they when you need them? Mine have turned to dust at my feet, blown away on the wind that whips around us with an incoming storm off the lake.
His are gone, too, and we stand there, souls bared, hearts ready to be seared on the fire people call love. I know the dangers, hear the warning bells ring, but like a damn pawn in a game I’ve never played, I move closer, so there’s nothing between us, not even eleven lost years of regret and loneliness.
“I can’t stay here,” I whisper. “When I get Nolan back, I’ll leave again.”
It’s a warning, one I know he needs to hear. But it doesn’t stop him from lowering his mouth to mine.
Unlike last night, the kiss is soft, gentle, still full of need, but so much more.
He murmurs against my lips, “I can change your mind about leaving.”
I give a small, sad shake of my head, pushing back. “It’s not that simple.”
Even though I wish it was.
“It is. Farkas goes to prison for life. You stay here. With me.”
“I’ve been back two days, and you’re already asking me to move in?” I say lightly, head spinning with the possibility.
“This is where you should have been all along.”
Nice words, my head warns. But they’re just that–words.
I’m still tingling from his kiss, and even though I know I should just tell him about Nolan, I don’t want to ruin this moment, because I know it has to be the last one.
As independent and stubborn as I claim to be, I know my heart won’t survive losing this man a second time.
So, with the remaining resolve I have left, I rebuild my walls. Brick by brick, repeating those last words of his like a mantra: She’s a good lay. It’s not like I’m dating the chick.
That’s the boy I need to remember. The one who took my already tattered heart and shredded what was left of it. Not the beautiful, half-naked man who stands in front of me offering promises of a future I once would have given anything for.
“Even in a world without Farkas, we would never have worked.”
“You’re wrong.”
“You’re not a masochist, remember.” I toss his own words from all those years ago back at him.
He frowns. “I’m not the same guy–”
“And I’m not the same girl,” I say quickly, not wanting to hear another apology. I just need distance, or for him to at least put some clothes on. “I appreciate you helping me, but after I get Nolan back, we’re leaving.” I lift up my arm, pulling his up as well with the handcuffs. “This isn’t going to stop me.”
He chuckles, but it isn’t fueled by humor. It’s dark and feral, and slightly dangerous. “We’ll see. I can be pretty persuasive when I want something. And, Lorelei, if you haven’t figured it out yet, what I want is you. So, fight me all you want, sweetheart, but this is one challenge I intend to win.”
Again, the man has my vocal cords paralyzed, and even if I could think of some smart comeback, I’m not sure I could utter the words. Because as much as I hate to admit it, there’s a small part of me that hopes he wins, too.
Chapter 7
Damon
“How long do you plan on keeping me locked up?” Lorelei lifts the hand that’s locked to her chair, glaring at me.
As long as I have to.
Continuing to stir a pot of alfredo sauce, I just chuckle. “Like I said earlier, if you’d be more comfortable in one of the station’s cells, I can arrange that.”
It’s meant to be a joke, but from the corner of my eye I see her make a face. The same one she made when I uncuffed myself and re-cuffed her to the chair.
As much as I enjoyed her being linked to me, it wasn’t exactly productive. Plus, I needed to change into something other than a towel, since it wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding the hard-on I’ve been sporting the past two days.
“You do realize you’re getting some major points for assholeness right now.”
I l
ift a shoulder and let it drop, turning back to the boiling pot of water and pouring a bag of penne into it.
“I need to know you’re going to let me do my job. That you won’t interfere.”
“Maybe, if you told me your plan.”
“Let me worry about that.”
“Not knowing what’s going on only makes me worry more.”
I put the lid back on the pot and lower the heat, then turn to her. “I told you, once you get the call from Farkas and we know where he plans to meet you, I’ll go–”
“You mean we’ll go.”
“You’re staying here.”
“No freaking way. I’m going with you.”
“It’s dangerous, Lor.”
“Which is why I have to be there. If something happens to Nolan…” Even though I know she tries to blink them away, I see the tears form in her eyes.
“Look.” I put the spoon down and kneel beside her, taking her free hand. “I know you don’t trust me.”
“I wonder why.” She lifts her cuffed hand.
“But I promise on my life, I will bring him back safe.” I bring her hand to my lips and brush them across her knuckles. “Nothing is going to happen to you or Nolan.”
“You don’t know Farkas like I do. If I’m not there–”
“Trust me, Lorelei. Just this once. Please.”
She shakes her head and looks away. “It’s not like you’re giving me any other choice.”
I sigh, knowing she’s right. But it has to be this way. I won’t lose her again. And there’s a chance when things go down with Farkas and his men, shots will be fired. I won’t put her at risk.
“You’re going to burn the sauce,” she mutters, not meeting my gaze.
I get that she’s scared and confused, and a hundred different emotions must be rushing through her right now, but I can’t get a good feeling for what she’s thinking. At least, not about me. One second she’s looking at me with the same hungry lust I feel, and the next she’s glaring at me like I’m the enemy.
But there are also a few rare glimpses I’ve gotten when she’s let her guard down, soul bared, and I see the girl I once knew. And then she clams up again, hiding her secrets behind those guarded brown eyes, and I have to wonder what else she’s not telling me.
Salvage (Savages and Saints Book 3) Page 7