by Bethany Shaw
“Thanks,” Lark whispered, placing another soft peck on his lips. It meant a lot that he believed in her.
“Get some rest. I’ll see you in a bit,” Devon promised.
Lark nodded and exited the vehicle, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. She clamored up the porch steps; it had been a long and depressing day.
“You okay?” Nora asked as she and Daniel came out of the kitchen carrying cans of Coke.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I just...”
“It’s going to be okay,” Nora replied, soothingly.
“I know. I’m just not ready to let go yet,” Lark admitted wearily, hoping they didn’t think she was being foolish. At least Devon acknowledged something was afoul, but she couldn’t help wondering how everyone else felt. She knew this ordeal had to be hard on both Devon and Daniel, and she didn’t want to add any extra stress, especially if they thought she was crazy.
“You know,” Daniel spoke up, “my dad would have made a spectacle of them. Their faces would have been visible in the pictures if he had been the one to send them. I would think the Lunas and Juarez would have the same twisted mentality. Particularly, since my dad and Charles Luna were friends.”
“But their faces...” Lark trailed off, trying to understand what he was saying. There had only been bodies, the faces had been hidden.
Daniel ran a hand over his face. “There really isn’t a valid reason for them to keep refusing to send us the bodies unless they have something they are trying to hide. We killed quite a few of their men. It wouldn’t have been hard to get a body. And the female body, well, if they have connections with a hospital, funeral home, or morgue, or they know someone who does...” Daniel explained, trailing off.
Lark shuddered; she was a little taken back at how creepy that sounded, knowing what Daniel said was one hundred percent true.
“But why go to all that trouble?” Nora asked, rejoining the conversation.
Daniel shrugged. “They would be good hostages—the Alpha’s brother and his mate’s sister. It would give them leverage over us,” he paused to clear his throat as he looked down to the ground. “And Sarah is a fertile female. It’s hard to come by girls that no one is going to miss. The last thing any pack wants is an investigation in their area. And they know this is something we can’t involve the police in without risking exposing our species.”
Lark closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure which was worse, Sarah being dead or living a life as a breeder against her will. A shudder ripped down her spine. Sarah wasn’t exactly in her right mind the last time she saw her. Would she do something extreme?
“Look, if they’re out there together, Vincent will take care of her. And I’m sure there is a reason they haven’t called. If the Lunas want us to think they’re dead, they wouldn’t have used his card. They know even prepaid cards can be tracked as long as you have the number. For now, we just have to hope the two of them know what they’re doing,” Daniel explained.
Daniel thinks they are alive, too. Relief washed over her and she closed her eyes saying a silent prayer. She was thankful she wasn’t the only one still clinging to hope. But at the moment, they didn’t have much they could do.
“I guess we don’t have a choice but to wait it out,” Lark sighed.
***
Guymon, Oklahoma
Sarah shot up in bed; her eyes darted around the unfamiliar room. It took her a long, terrifying moment to place where she was before letting out a relieved breath as her racing heart slowed.
The room was quiet and only illuminated by the pale moonlight. She wasn’t sure what had woken her, but after a few minutes with nothing amiss, she chalked it up to the unfamiliar surroundings.
She swallowed, licking her dry lips. Her throat was parched and there was no way she’d get back to sleep without getting a cold drink of water. She pushed back the covers and tiptoed across the room. The door creaked as she opened it and she cringed, hoping it wouldn’t wake Vincent.
They’d made peace, but her body still remembered the way they melded together. It felt too right; she didn’t want to remember. In fact, it would be better if she forgot.
Sarah pushed open the kitchen door and let out a startled yelp. Vincent peered up at her, a slice of pizza halfway to his mouth.
“Late night snack?” he asked, motioning to the box on the counter.
Sarah closed her eyes and took a second to compose herself. “No, thanks. Where are the glasses, though?” she asked, looking around at the dark cherry cupboards.
“To your right, third door over.”
Sarah turned around and reached up into the cupboard, drawing out a dark blue glass. She walked to the sink, aware of Vincent’s eyes on her. A shudder tore through her and heat pooled within her. What in the world is going on with him and me? Whatever it was, she needed to get a handle on it.
She closed her eyes and opened them as she flipped on the water, filling the cup halfway.
“You sure you don’t want any pizza before I put it away?” Vincent asked.
“I’m good.”
Sarah kept her back to him, but could hear the box shuffling around behind her and the creak of the fridge door opening.
“Can’t sleep either?” Vincent guessed, hopping up on the counter a few feet away from her.
Sarah turned to him. Her breath caught in her throat—he was shirtless, again. The black shorts sat low on his hips—he looked too good. She averted her eyes and stared down into her drink.
“Unfamiliar place, comfortable bed. Guess I got used to sleeping on the hard ground,” she stammered, forcing the lukewarm liquid down her throat.
“It’s this house.” Vincent looked around the kitchen. “Last time I was here wasn’t exactly pleasant.”
“That’s right,” Sarah murmured. “You were taken with Lark.” How could she have possibly forgotten about that? “You were a prisoner here, weren’t you?” She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.
“Yeah. Marcus had it worse than I did.”
“I’m sorry,” Sarah said sincerely.
“Not your fault,” he waved her off, trying to make light of the situation.
She didn’t want Vincent to be uncomfortable here. If he would feel better elsewhere she would give up her comfort to help him. “We could go to the guesthouse if you want. Or, get a hotel,” she offered.
“Nah. Besides, we still need to look through my dad’s office sometime soon.”
Maybe a mission would help distract him from his memories. If she’d gotten the drink and went back upstairs to bed she would have fallen asleep, but after the scare of finding him down here and talking she didn’t think sleep would find her again anytime soon. “Did you want to do that now?” she asked.
“No better time than the present.” He hopped down from the counter, a tight smile on his face as he walked toward the door.
Sarah set her glass in the sink and followed after him. They walked quietly down the long hallway until Vincent stopped in front of a closed door. His hand reached out, but he seemed to be hesitating. After a long moment, he twisted the knob and shoved the door open, letting out a long breath.
“Wow,” he whispered.
Sarah peered over his shoulder. The room was trashed. Books, paper, and pieces of furniture littered the floor.
“Do you think it’s still here?” Sarah asked.
“It looks like they were pretty thorough,” Vincent mumbled. “But, my dad always had a backup—I bet they didn’t find it.”
“How can you be so sure?” Sarah questioned, curiously wondering how he knew.
Vincent grinned. “I can’t give away all my secrets.”
He walked into the room and knelt down next to a register vent. He pried it away from the wall and reached inside.
Sarah held her breath, hoping he found whatever it was he was searching for. If they could turn their two enemies against each other, it could change the entire course of the war.
Vincent whooped and looked to her with a grin as he dragged a large book out from behind the wall.
“What is that?” Sarah asked, hurrying to him.
“My dad’s journals and important documents. We should have everything we need in here.”
Sarah let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding and said a silent prayer. Their plan was going to work. It had to—they’d come too far to fail now.
Chapter Eleven
Vincent looked around at the disaster surrounding them. If he didn’t hate being in his father’s office so badly, he might think it funny to see the usually pristine office in such disarray. Emmett had wanted everything perfect, even his own children. It would have been a sight to watch his father sputter with anger over the disaster.
He shook the thoughts away. His father was gone and it wasn’t worth his time to ponder over it now. In fact, he just wanted to get out of the room. Standing up, he walked to the door and ushered Sarah into the hall.
Sarah’s voice broke through his thoughts “Will what you found have a number to contact Malakai?”
Vincent thumbed through the pages until he came to a loose paper. He tugged it free and stared down at the neat scroll. “Up for a prank call to find out?” Vincent wagged his eyebrows.
Sarah rolled her eyes, smiling. “We shouldn’t.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Her face sobered and her eyes darted to his hand that still held her arm. He released his hold and took a step back. She tucked a long lock behind her ear as she shifted back and forth on her feet. “I think I’m going to head back upstairs,” she said quietly.
“I’ll head up with you. We can look over all this in the morning and come up with a plan. I don’t know about you, but my brain turns to mush after three a.m.”
If she wasn’t staying up, then he didn’t want to stay up either. They walked side-by-side in the hallway. Her arm brushed against his and a flurry of desire worked its way through him.
“Is it really that late?” she questioned, filling the awkward silence.
“It was a little before three when we were in the kitchen.”
“Oh.”
“Our schedules are all jacked up.” He took the stairs two at a time to put some distance between them. It was a lot easier to be near her if they weren’t touching—if he couldn’t smell her. Why does she have to smell so good? He stopped at the top of the steps, allowing her several feet.
“I guess so. You would have thought we’d be more tired. I swear, earlier, I thought I would sleep for days.” She sucked in a deep breath as she yawned, causing her breasts to heave. Vincent groaned inwardly and averted his gaze to the ground only to find himself staring at her toned, tan legs.
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning,” she replied, taking a step toward Emily’s bedroom. She paused, seemingly hesitating in the doorway.
“Hey,” he said, his hand jutting out to stop her before he could think better of it. Her sapphire gaze locked onto his. She was so beautiful. His heart lurched up into his throat as his fingertips grazed her soft, silky skin. “Thanks for helping me tonight,” he said, honestly. It clicked then. Sure, he felt drawn to Sarah physically, but she’d done something no one else had ever bothered to do—aside from Devon and Emily that is. She cared. He’d never had anything more than a physical connection with a girl before. Sarah’s personality was warm and inviting—she was compassionate and real. And God he really wanted—needed—to show her how he felt.
He took an involuntary step forward, depositing the journal on the banister. Sarah’s mouth beckoned to him and he couldn’t control his desire any longer. He threaded his hand through her hair. Her lips parted and he wanted to taste them again. Vincent leaned in and she met him halfway, their lips fusing together.
Her arms wound around him, drawing him closer. How can something feel so right and be wrong at the same time? He knew he should stop, but couldn’t. This was what he craved.
Sarah sucked on his bottom lip as her nails lightly scratched up and down his back. The simple touch set him on fire, filling him with a desire he needed to sate. With a growl, he pushed her into the wall, pinning her against the surface. The wolf in him ached to claim her, to cover her with his scent. No other woman had ever elicited this type of a reaction from him.
As if sensing his mood, her fingers skimmed the hem of his shorts. He groaned at the contact, pressing his erect cock against her belly, needing to release. His hands lowered to the bottom of her shirt, and he yanked it up, breaking their connection for a fraction of a second to get the fabric over her head.
His eyes instantly went to her bra, immediately recognizing the mulberry lace that covered her plump breasts.
Sarah bit her lip as he trailed the pad of his finger along the strap and over the lacy pattern. “And you said I wouldn’t see this again,” he teased.
Sarah shuddered under his touch. “Do you like it?” she whispered.
“It looks better than I thought it would,” he admitted, dipping his head down to her neck.
“You were fantasizing about me?” she grinned.
Vincent couldn’t come up with a good response, so he settled for humming as he nuzzled her neck. Her hands ran through his hair, drawing him closer. He had fantasized about her, but she’d never felt this good, never tasted this good, in any of his naughty dreams. Her warm vanilla scent was intoxicating.
Vincent dragged one of the straps down her shoulder, exposing the tender peak underneath the garment. She was magnificent. He placed open-mouthed kisses down her chest before taking her nipple between his lips while his other hand palmed her other breast.
“Can I take your silence as an answer?” she joked, breathlessly.
Vincent chuckled against her peak and she gasped, arching into him. It took every ounce of strength he had to not tear the clothes from her body and take her right there against the wall. No, she deserves better than that. She’s not a random hookup. Sarah was his friend—and maybe more—it was complicated. And sex would make it more complex.
“Sarah,” he hesitated. He straightened and met her gaze. “Sarah?” he asked.
She blinked, seemingly coming back to reality.
“I don’t want to mess this up,” he told her honestly. He would rather pine and fantasize forever than have one night and screw the whole friendship up. She was worth more to him than just a tryst between the sheets.
Sarah closed her eyes and let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I’m not asking for a commitment, Vincent.” Hesitantly, she opened her eyes and peered up at him. “I just...you make me feel alive and free and I need to feel that right now. We could die tomorrow or get captured. Whatever this is, we can figure out the logistics later. Whether we’re friends, friends with benefits, or...” she trailed off and looked away. “I know what I’m doing. Nothing’s going to change between us.”
She was right, anything could happen tomorrow. And he really wanted her, but he was afraid she would regret her choice come morning. That was something he couldn’t allow to happen.
“Vincent,” she whispered, pecking his lips lightly. “I want to do this.”
She leaned forward, grazing her lips against his as she slid her tongue into his mouth. Maybe he was weak—he could regret it in the morning—but he wanted this as badly as she did.
Sarah sighed contently as he kissed her back. Her fingers slipped inside his shorts and cupped his cheeks. One of her legs lifted, wrapping around his waist. He wanted to take his time with her—take things slow and worship her the way she deserved. But if she kept this up, he wouldn’t be able to.
He took one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger rolling it into a tight bud. She moaned, grinding her hips against his, causing a delicious friction against his already throbbing member. Unable to take much more, he swooped one arm beneath the leg she was standing on and hoisted her up. She locked her ankles on the small of his back as he carried her to his room.
Vincent kicked t
he door all the way open and dropped her onto his bed, covering her body with his. She breathed raggedly beneath him as he trailed his fingers between their bodies and under the hem of her shorts and panties. He continued to kiss her as he rubbed his digits over her swollen, wet center. She felt so good and he couldn’t wait to bury himself inside of her. But he was going to take his time and make this good for her, even if it killed him.
She let out a throaty moan as he sank two fingers into her folds and started a slow, steady rhythm. Her juices slid around his fingers and he grunted at the sensation of her tight heat. She shifted restlessly beneath him, her hips rising in time to his thrusts. He swirled his tongue in her mouth, reveling in the tiny sighs that escaped her lips.
Sarah trailed her fingers over him. Vincent stilled his movements as Sarah’s warm fingers wrapped around his cock. He grunted and fought the urge to claim her right then and there. She pumped her palm up and down his shaft, as he resumed his thrusts, moving in tune to her hand. Her touch was searing, and if she kept her pace up, their fun would be over all too soon.
He moved his left hand to his end table and fumbled with the drawer handle, trying to open it without breaking contact from Sarah. Finally, the drawer opened enough for him to get his hand inside. He tore through the contents, searching for the familiar square packet. Hurry up and find the damn thing already!
Sarah’s thumb rolled over the tip of his cock and he froze in a desperate attempt to keep from coming. No one had ever gotten him this riled up, this fast. If she could turn him on this much with just her hand, what could she do while he was inside her? He shuddered at the thought as he pulled away from her and gave his full attention to the drawer. He wanted to make her his—he needed to feel her now.
Sarah groaned as Vincent pulled away from her. At first she thought he was going to protest again, but when she saw him valiantly digging through his nightstand, she knew that wasn’t the case. Not wanting to wait any longer than necessary, she lifted her hips and rolled her shorts and panties all the way down and kicked them to the floor. Her pulse spiked with anticipation as she watched Vincent stand and sheath his fully erect length.