Hunger for You (Shadow Shifters: Damaged Hearts)

by A. C. Arthur

  My hair was instantly freed as Dex stumbled back, dropping his cell phone. I didn’t wait for any more reaction but turned and ran as if the devil himself were chasing me.

  Apparently that wasn’t fast enough because in the next second I felt fingers wrap around my calf, pulling me down. I fell onto the ground, using my hands to break the fall and to keep from busting my face wide open. Turning quickly I began kicking to get him off my leg. My foot caught the side of his face and he reared back, releasing me again. I stood quickly, knowing what would happen if he got up and I stayed down. I was going to run again, but this time I paused and stomped Dex right in the neck. He howled like something unearthly and I did it again, adrenaline racing through my body like fresh blood.

  Then common sense kicked in and I got the hell out of there. The pain didn’t hit me until I’d rounded the building. I could see the door to the bar and was aiming for it, but pain escalating from my ankle up to my thigh stopped me and I crumpled to the ground.

  All I could remember thinking was, please don’t let him come up behind me, but I couldn’t stop myself from falling, couldn’t stop the pain from taking its ugly hold.

  CHAPTER 7

  Caleb

  I’d just pulled out of the parking spot, finally. Too many conflicting emotions had been battling through my head, keeping my foot off the gas and the truck stuck in park. Eventually, I’d kicked myself in the ass enough to say it was done and put the truck in drive so I could get as far away from this bar as I possibly could.

  That’s when I saw her.

  She rounded the corner like a flash of light, her torn white shirt almost glowing in the night. She didn’t look back, just kept going which instantly told me she was on the run. But I didn’t give a damn. This was her fight as she’d so decisively put it for me one last time. I wasn’t stopping because I no longer gave a rat’s ass what happened to Zoe.

  The second she went down all my bravado went out the window. I slammed on the brakes and tried to jump out of the truck before I’d even gotten the door all the way open. Over the hood of the truck I went sliding, coming down with a thump on the other side and jumping onto the sidewalk just before her head could hit the concrete.

  “Zoe, goddammit! You’re so damned hardheaded,” I scolded, all the while lifting her into my arms.

  “I don’t want you to hold me. I want you to let me go so I can get in my car and go home,” she whispered, her head falling into my chest so her words were a warm whisper over my neck.

  My teeth clenched but I didn’t waver. “Not this time, menina. Not this time.” I said the words while I moved.

  Opening the passenger-side door I gently sat her on the seat and fastened the seat belt around her.

  “He’ll come for me. I heard him yelling that he would come for me,” she was saying, her head lying back on the headrest, eyes barely opened.

  When I looked at her to respond her face was contorted in pain and I growled low and deep, the anger rippling through both me and the cat too much to ignore.

  “Shh, menina, I’ve got you,” I told her then rounded the truck again and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  I slammed the truck into gear and pressed the gas, turning to get out of the parking lot as fast as I could. I didn’t look in my rearview mirror because I knew what I would see if I did. There was a cat back there, one angry jaguar declaring war on me and on Zoe. “Game on, you sonofabitch,” I mumbled to myself.

  ***

  After the first or second traffic light I’d sped through Zoe moaned and leaned forward in her seat. She was rubbing her right ankle and cursing.

  I reached over, putting a hand on her shoulder and tried to ease her back, but she jerked away instead.

  “It’s probably a bad sprain and not a break. I can take you to the emergency room …” I told her, trying to ignore the sting of her rejecting my touch, once again.

  “No!” she yelled and grabbed my arm. “No hospitals!”

  She was squeezing my arm so tightly, her eyes had widened, and the scent of cold, hard fear permeated the air.

  “Okay, okay. No hospitals. I’ll take you back to your place then.”

  Her grip didn’t lessen but she looked away from me. “He’ll come there,” she spoke quietly.

  Fear was thick and choking me into action. So she was not only afraid of that jackass coming for her again at her apartment, but apparently of hospitals as well.

  “I won’t take you to your place then,” I told her, using my free hand to touch her cheek, turning her slowly so that she was once again looking at me. “But I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

  I didn’t think, didn’t consider, didn’t waver, but drove straight to my apartment.

  CHAPTER 8

  Zoe

  His hands were like magic, gentle and soothing, careful and steady. I lay on his couch, which was a really soft material that I sank into as soon as he carried me through the door and set me here. I’d been to a few bachelor pads in my time and this one definitely did not qualify. Though the furniture was sparse, what was here, i.e., the couch, was really nice. There were heavy curtains at the window that were probably room-darkening during the day. I figured it was okay that he didn’t like sunlight. That didn’t automatically place him in the vampire/serial killer column.

  I noticed the walls were blank as he went to the other end of the couch to switch on another lamp. He had one near the door and this one, and that was all as far as I could see. He also had the couch and a humungous television directly across from it. There was a rug on the floor that looked fancy and possibly expensive and I wondered how it would feel beneath my bare feet. The altercation with Dex may have rattled my mind a bit because I couldn’t control the path my thoughts were taking, and they were really running rampant.

  My heart rate had finally returned to normal, but that didn’t mean I was mentally anywhere near that point. My hands still shook and I felt like any minute now someone was going to take a swing at me. But I wasn’t with Dex anymore. I was with Caleb and he was different. At least I’d felt in my soul that he was from the first time I’d seen him.

  He’d seemed so lonely, so standoffish, but now, he appeared to be just what I needed. His fingers touched me gently and although there was pain from the injury, there was also warmth from him. Always the heat when he was near and now that he was actually touching me, my mind whirled with emotions like fear, regret, anxiety, and lust. The last was more prominent especially as he was close to my feet now, his back facing me.

  “I need to get this shoe off,” he stated.

  I’d been so absorbed in my surroundings and my rampant feelings, and distracted by his continued touch that I waited a beat before replying, “Oh, okay.”

  It was a good thing I knew I had on good socks today. Usually when I slipped on my Uggs I didn’t bother with socks. The moment I heard him chuckle I remembered which ones I’d put on today.

  “Hello Kitty?” he said, looking over his shoulder to me.

  It was such a sexy look, his dark eyes raking over me, the corner of his mouth slightly lifted and that damned beard that was never too long, just a shadow that drove me crazy with wanting to rub my fingers along his jaw.

  At first the look had been playful, for as much as a guy like Caleb could pull that off. His thick brows had arched, his lips turning up ever so slightly at the ends, like he almost wanted to smile. But as our gazes held his expression changed. His eyes grew darker—like the brown turned to black—his jaw was set, a muscle twitching on the left side. It was an intense look, one that made me very aware of the fact that I was lying on his couch and he was leaning over me, his hands rubbing along my skin.

  I cleared my throat and searched for a whimsical reply. “They were clean,” was the best that I could do.

  Caleb shook his head then looked back to my feet and continued what he was doing, which consisted of him peeling off the pink-and-white ankle sock and touching my bare foot. Now, besides the little gasp at
the spark of pain elicited by his tilting my ankle in the other direction, the feel of his hand at the ball of my foot was dreamy. “Yeah,” I said, dreamily, and that’s exactly what I meant.

  My eyes closed for a couple of seconds and I almost moaned, his touch was so gentle and yet strong enough to have my breath catching.

  “This needs to be wrapped. I think I’ve got a bandage in my room. And then you need ice.”

  He was talking but it was about my ankle and not about how he was making me feel so I barely registered all of his words. There was a tug-of-war going on for my attention, the radiating pain from my ankle and the quickly building desire sparked by Caleb’s closeness. So, yeah, the ice sounded good right about now.

  When he walked away I felt like a total flake for having these continuous thoughts about how good his hands felt on me in the midst of tonight’s events. On top of that I knew I had to look awful. I attempted to pat down my hair, which I knew had to be all over the place. As if a greater entity was sending a signal of how ridiculous my thoughts had become, razor-sharp pain shot straight through to my skull, the stinging of my tender scalp bringing tears to my eyes. For what seemed like forever I just lay there with my eyes closed, taking shallow breaths and waiting for the pain to subside.

  “You need a painkiller.” Caleb’s deep voice sounded through the fog of aching I was currently visiting.

  “Uh hmm,” was my best reply. I felt like I needed so many things right at this moment. A painkiller would most likely help, then I’d at least be pain free while trying to get a grip on the growing arousal.

  “Let me take care of your ankle and then I’ll get them,” he said.

  I kept my eyes closed even though I did enjoy watching him move around like he was some sexy-assed paramedic. My entire body was in pain from the exertion of battling with Dex. That whole scenario brought back other memories, ones I’d never wanted to think about again, ones that still weighed heavily in the center of my chest.

  In the next moments Caleb was handing me a glass and pills, while a large Ziploc bag was tucked under his arm. “Ice for your foot and orange juice and painkillers for you,” he instructed.

  “You’re an answer to my prayers,” I blurted out.

  He looked kind of uncomfortable with those words, as he should be, I guess. I just took the glass of juice and tossed the pills into my mouth, being careful not to look at his face again.

  Caleb came closer, his Dr. Martens boots thumping lightly over the hardwood floors as he stood right over me. If I looked up—which it took all the strength I had left not to do—I would be on a first-name basis with his crotch. That thought sent serious thrills throughout my body. And then, he knelt down beside me, giving me that serious—serious as in demeanor and as in seriously hot as hell—look. I gulped down enough juice to swallow the pills then another gulp just to make sure my mouth didn’t go dry staring at him.

  “Do you need anything else?” he asked. “Extra pillows or a blanket?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m fine,” I replied, reaching out to place the glass on the floor. There was no coffee table but since this was a guy’s house I didn’t really expect one.

  “I think I know what happened to you, but I’d like for you to tell me,” he said.

  “Why?” I couldn’t help but ask the question because I’d been wondering why he seemed to be everywhere I was lately, or more likely everywhere I was when I needed him to be. “I mean, all I know about you is that your name is Caleb and that you like to come to the bar to drink Blue Moon and eat hot wings. I’m sitting in your apartment and I probably shouldn’t be because maybe you’re a serial killer or something.” I sighed, impatient because the pain pills hadn’t kicked in yet and because I didn’t know what to say to him without saying how much I wanted him.

  The next thing I felt was Caleb’s fingers lightly moving over my forehead, then massaging my temples.

  “Just relax,” he said. “Relax and know that I’m not a serial killer and that all I want is to keep you safe.”

  My eyes fluttered and I licked my lips. “I want to believe you but I know I shouldn’t. I’m too trusting, that’s what Hanna says.”

  “Hanna’s a little rough around the edges,” he replied.

  “She’s my only friend,” I said in defense.

  He stopped massaging my temples and instantly I wanted to take the words back so he would resume.

  The look on his face was filled with a little confusion and a lot of pity and in the next instant I felt like sinking so deep into the comfortable cushions of the couch that he would no longer see me.

  “What about your family?” he asked.

  I hadn’t had anyone ask me that in a long time. After graduating from high school I noticed how less frequently I was asked about my parents or siblings. I figured adults had other things to worry about. So I remained quiet for a moment, wondering what I should say, if I should lie, if I should just brush him off. It wasn’t any of his business, the dysfunctional nuthouse that I’d come from. It was nobody’s business. And dammit, just thinking about it all had tears burning my eyes once more. I’d cried so much as a little girl, in the dark corner of my room as my brother and sister slept, I started to believe there were no tears left once I grew older. When I finally left that house I declared to never shed another tear. Tonight, it seemed I was doomed to break that vow.

  “I’m not a coward,” I heard myself saying. “And I’m not some guy’s punching bag. I never will be.”

  Caleb’s fingers traced a feather-like path down the sides of my face. “You shouldn’t be.”

  His words were spoken quietly, still they held so much power, so much authority I had to open my eyes, to look up at him then, trying desperately to blink away those pesky tears. Caleb was staring right at me, his face so close to mine his breath warmed my cheeks. It was so intense, this look he was giving me, these feelings I was experiencing, that I felt like I had to tell him, like I owed him some sort of explanation for ending up on his couch battered and bruised.

  “Long story short, Dex was being an ass inside the bar. I went outside with him only because I was tired of making a scene. I should have seen it coming, should have recognized the signs,” I said, feeling the sting of tears against my eyes and hating the inevitability of crying in front of this guy. “He was going to … going to …”

  I had to stop, had to take a minute to breathe and just accept what had almost happened, to me of all people. I’d lived this bull crap most of my life and swore I’d never, ever, be in this predicament, and now look at me.

  “I refused to let him hurt me anymore,” I said so quietly I didn’t know if Caleb had even heard me.

  “He won’t,” was Caleb’s whispered response. “He won’t.”

  I knew that tone. No matter how quiet and how lovely his voice sounded at this pitch, I knew what was lacing those words. Pity. And I hated it.

  I tried to sit up, also hating that the room did a little tilt-a-whirl as a result.

  “Whoa, slow down,” Caleb said, bracing his hands on my shoulders to keep me down.

  I blinked, tried desperately to focus on his face and not the background that was still spinning a bit.

  “I sprained my ankle kicking him in the neck after I finally got away from him. I didn’t lie down and let him beat me.” I took a quick breath because it felt like those few words had taken all the air out of me. “And I didn’t want to go home because I knew he’d come there looking for me. I’m really not in the mood for more fighting and I’m in less of a mood to have the cops in my face.”

  Caleb only nodded in response to my diatribe. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or was just humoring me because he was quiet and his face alone didn’t give anything away.

  I lay back against the cushions, closing my eyes again and holding my breath as I waited for him to respond. He was probably going to think I was some type of lunatic female, kicking guys in the neck. Or he was going to think he didn’t need to be all “
knight in shining armor” with me because I could obviously take care of myself. Either way his next step would surely be to pick me up and deposit me outside on the front steps of this gorgeous duplex where he lived on the top floor.

  But that’s not what happened …

  His fingers raked through my hair, the blunt tips rubbing softly along my scalp. Tentatively I opened my eyes and stared directly into his as he was even closer to me now, so close the tip of his nose brushed over mine as he tilted his head and … finally, touched his lips to mine.

  My eyes fluttered closed once more and I imagined I was between the pages of one of my romance novels, that the warm lips pressing against mine were of my hero. He—my hero—would hold still there, just enjoying the contact … no, he, Caleb’s tongue demanded entrance and I didn’t resist. With a flash of heat that pierced all the way down to my crotch his tongue rubbed against mine. I lifted my arms to wrap around his neck and pulled him closer. I wanted so much more of this because reality was winning hands-down over my romantic imagination.

  When he pulled away we were both out of breath, but he spoke first.

  “I’m sorry.” His words were a whisper over my face.

  “No. No, don’t be,” I replied immediately. “I wanted you to kiss me.” Admitting that seemed oddly easier than admitting that I’d tried to crush Dex’s larynx with my foot.

  Pulling back slightly, Caleb gave me that look, the one where the left side of his mouth lifted in an almost smile and his deep brown eyes looked soft instead of foreboding. “I wasn’t apologizing for kissing you.”

  “Oh.” Now didn’t that make me feel like a big idiot?

  “I was apologizing for not putting a stop to him sooner. I should have as soon as I figured out what he was,” he finished.

  “What he was?”

  Caleb’s lips thinned, his brow wrinkling as he pulled away.