Save You (Crave #2)

by Ryan Parker

  He picked up on my sounds and my body language. “I can feel you coming.”

  God…I loved the way he said that to me, and I let my muscles go slack as waves of pleasure spilled through my body.

  As my stomach heaved with the violent orgasm, I felt his cock pulsing, surging, as he came, pumping into me.

  After a moment, he collapsed on the bed beside me and pulled me close to him.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked again.

  I looked at his eyes, searching for…something. A reason, I guess. A reason that wasn’t evident in his expression, much less his words.

  “You keep asking me that,” I said.

  His lips closed tightly and he let out a deep sigh. “I need to know.”

  I reached up and put my hand on the side of his head, letting my fingers slip into his hair. “I do trust you.”

  What seemed like five minutes of silence passed. It was probably more like twenty seconds, but the long wait for his words made me feel like we were separated by an ocean.

  “I have so much to prove to you,” he whispered, pulling me closer to him. The words he had just said to me were like a vow. That’s how I heard them, that’s how I was sure he had meant them, and that’s how I wished to believe in them. No one had ever made such a promise to me.

  I nuzzled into his chest, feeling content, safe, and fulfilled. “Don’t ever let me go.”

  “I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

  The truth was that I did trust him enough now to take the next step. I also believed deep down that he wasn’t lying when he said he would prove it to me. But I didn’t tell him that.

  I also didn’t say what I really wanted to say—that I had fallen in love with him. I couldn’t say it. Despite how much we had shared, despite how far I had come out of my shell, I wasn’t in a position to make myself quite that vulnerable. Part of me wished he could read my mind and hear the words I was too afraid to say.

  The time to say it would either come or it wouldn’t.

  Everything from that moment forward hinged on Finn’s promise to me.

  Chapter Seven (Finn)

  I woke early the next morning. Rachel’s room was still dark. As quietly and gently as I could, I rolled over to pick up my phone off her nightstand.

  5:20 a.m.

  Wide awake. And thirsty.

  I managed to get out of bed without disturbing her, and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I took it back to the bedroom and sat in a chair on her side of the bed.

  Rachel was lying on her right side with her arms tucked under the pillow. What little light there was revealed her form—one leg covered by the top sheet, the other bent at the knee and exposed; she was naked from the waist up, and I could see the outline of her breasts, her nipples slightly darker in the dim light.

  The room was perfectly quiet except for Rachel’s deep, even breathing. She was so peaceful as she slept. So relaxed. So perfectly beautiful.

  I watched her for an hour, thinking…

  My mind once again flashed back to the dream I’d had about that old fairy tale, and how it had been the first step in cementing my decision to be with her. The images of her melting like the snow princess still made my gut wrench.

  Like the prince in the fairy tale, I was now responsible for what happened to Rachel—not only in terms of her physical safety, but also her emotional well-being.

  When Howard McDowell entered the bookstore earlier that afternoon and gave me the ultimatum, he said he would give me some time to end things with Rachel. He didn’t say how much time. A week? A month?

  It didn’t matter. I knew I wasn’t going to end it with her. I just needed to figure out what to do next.

  As I sat there watching her sleep, the stillness of the room brought more clarity to the situation than I might have otherwise gotten.

  Rachel had made her choice to stay with me, but she needed more. It was her life, her future. I would be perfectly honest with her about the danger she faced just from knowing me. Just hours earlier, I had told her that I would never let her go. She knew how I felt—almost, anyway, as I hadn’t yet said those three words to her—but I still needed to make it clear exactly what she was getting into. It wasn’t going to be an easy discussion, but it had to be done.

  She began to stir on the bed, stretching her legs and starting to open her eyes. I moved to the floor, kneeling beside her. “Good morning.”

  Her eyes opened slowly and a smile spread across her face. “Mmm. Hey.” I loved her hoarse morning voice.

  I leaned toward her and kissed her forehead. “I’ll go start some coffee.”

  She came out of the bedroom a few minutes later, wrapped in the top sheet. I had seen her do that before but this time it was different. It wasn’t going to be a quiet, easy morning.

  Rachel walked into the kitchen and I handed her a mug of coffee. A little sugar, a little milk, just as she liked it.

  She sipped, then said, “Thank you. Almost as good as Starbucks.”

  “It’s my fallback skill,” I said, leaning on the counter. “If I ever need a different job…”

  She stepped toward me, pressing her body against mine, looking up at my eyes. I bent my head and kissed her.

  “I can’t imagine you with an apron on,” she said.

  I laughed softly. Goddamn, this was going to be more difficult than I thought. She was in a comfortable, fun, flirty mood and I was about to ruin it.

  I took her hand and led her into the den where we sat next to each other on the couch.

  “What just happened?” she asked, looking worried. “You were smiling just a few seconds ago, and now I see your jaw all tensed up.”

  I didn’t say anything. I just looked at her, and I couldn’t help but see her as that snow princess.

  “Finn? Talk to me. You’re worrying me. And why did you keep asking if I trusted you?”

  She’d gone from relaxed and content to nervous and nearly frantic in the span of thirty seconds. It was my fault. I couldn’t let her linger anymore like this.

  I took a sip of my coffee, set the mug on the table, and turned to face her. “This can’t wait. There are things you need to know. And you need to make a decision.”

  Her brows furrowed and she cocked her head to the side a little. “I already did. I told you, I’m not going anywhere. I want to be with you.”

  I searched her face, watching it change from its earlier relaxed expression to worry, and now to what appeared to be abject fear. Or anger. Maybe both.

  Her lips closed tightly and she shook her head. “Don’t do this.”

  My breathing was getting shallow. I recognized it the instant it started and I needed to get it under control, remain calm, keep my cool. I took a slow, deep breath before continuing: “Rachel—”

  She cut me off. “You’re setting me up to leave me.”

  I had feared she would interpret this conversation like that, and she did, in just one sentence. Her issues with abandonment would come raging back, flooding her mind, clouding her ability to understand what I was really doing.

  “I’m not leaving,” I said. “Everything I’ve said to you is true. Exactly how I feel. You said you trusted me. I need you to listen to me.” I kept my voice as soft and low as I could, not wanting to upset her anymore than I already had.

  She didn’t say anything. Instead, her eyes left my face and her gaze dropped down to her lap where she held the steaming coffee mug.

  “You said you would trust me,” I continued, and her eyes shot back up to my face. “You can’t truly trust me unless you know exactly what it is you’re getting into. It would be selfish of me to downplay the risk and danger you face. And I can’t do that. I want you to be with me, by my side, the rest of the way. But I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t make you aware of exactly what you’re facing.” I paused for a moment. Our eyes were locked on each other’s. “Okay?”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  “I live a dangerous life. It’s dangerou
s for me, and for other people. I’ve gone ten years knowing it could all end at any second.” I hesitated for several seconds, not wanting to say the words, but knowing I had to. “I promised that nothing would happen to you, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t make it clear that there’s always going to be risk. It’s just the way the world works.”

  Her face was still a mask of fear and worry. The anger had disappeared. I hated putting this kind of pressure on her, but it had to be done. She had to face it squarely in order to make the best decision for her.

  She wasn’t answering yet. She probably knew I had more to say.

  “We’re already more involved than either of us could have thought,” I went on. “Once you’re in, though, there’s no turning back—not from the lifestyle I live, and there’s no turning back from me. I’d never be able to leave you out there, alone, with the threat of your connection to me posing a threat to your safety. I’ll never be out of your life. Everything will change in a major way.”

  “I’ve thought about it so many times,” she said, this time without hesitation. “And each time, the future looks nothing like my life so far. I want that. I want you.”

  “You have me,” I said. “You just need to decide if you want to keep me.”

  She smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’ve spent my entire life feeling like I was either in a prison or randomly floating around with no anchor. I thought changing my lifestyle and cutting myself off from people and getting a good job would give me something to hold on to. It’s a safe way to live, but it’s not a life.”

  She paused for a moment, and I couldn’t help but think how similarly we looked at the world. Solitary lives, singularly focused on doing our jobs. She was right. It was no way to live a life. I’d known this for a while now, more and more as I got older and each year passed, but I’d never felt it as strongly until I met her.

  I lifted my hand to the side of her face and wiped her tear away with my thumb.

  “I haven’t felt as real as I do now. Ever,” she continued. “You’re the only person I’ve ever had any kind of connection with, and that’s why I took a chance on you. I’m so glad I did. I realize you’re asking me to take another chance, but you’re taking a chance on me, too, you know?” Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine.

  She was right. I nodded.

  “So,” she said, “I trust you, Malcolm Finn. I do. But do you trust me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I pulled her to me, pressing my lips to hers. She began to cry a little more, and tried to pull away, but I couldn’t let her. I wanted to feel her lips on mine a little bit longer. After a moment, I let her go.

  “So, as far as you letting me go?” she said. “You couldn’t even if you tried.”

  I pulled her onto my lap and leaned back on the couch. She leaned in toward my face and we kissed. There were almost unspoken words as our lips and tongues devoured each other. Words that would soon be spoken when the time was right—when I felt she was safe enough to hear them.

  She sat back up, her hands on the sides of my face. She was smiling a smile that I could have looked at for hours, but she had to get to work and I had to get back to Baltimore and spend a few days on something this week.

  “Maybe you should do something the next couple of nights,” I said, sitting up. “Something normal.”

  “Something normal?” Her feet hit the floor and she stood.

  I stood before her, gazing into that beautiful face of hers. “Go out with what’s-her-name? Tara? She’s always trying to get you to do something. Go. Have fun.”

  “But—”

  “I know. You’re going to worry. It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Chapter Eight (Rachel)

  I had no idea how I was going to function normally at work that day. During our conversation, Finn had said everything about my life would change. As if that were sometime in the future—a week, a month, a year away—but I could already feel the beginning of it that morning.

  I had no interest in doing my job. No interest in going back. Ever.

  Arriving at work that morning, I felt as if I were stepping into the past. Many parts of my life were starting to seem inconsequential, and work was one of them. It had never been a job I’d aspired to, and while I knew I was providing a much needed service, it was still just a steady paycheck to me.

  Now, it wasn’t even that. Rather than a reliable, comfortable setting that provided stability, it now felt like nothing more than something that was holding me back.

  Before leaving earlier that morning, Finn had told me he would need a few days to take care of something. He didn’t say what it was, and I didn’t ask. I trusted him. I knew he would be back for me.

  Still, the three days I didn’t see him felt more like three months.

  Tuesday was a busy day in the mail security facility. Tara and I barely had a chance to talk until we broke for lunch.

  “When do you see Mr. Mysterious again?”

  If only she knew just how appropriate her new nickname for Finn was.

  “Probably this weekend,” I said. I didn’t want to tell her that I’d seen him last night. I was feeling like I needed to be more secretive with each passing hour.

  All day I’d felt like I was being watched. Of course, I was always being watched, considering the numerous cameras throughout the building. But this felt different, like someone was on to my secret. I knew it was just paranoia, which may not be such a bad thing to feel sometimes, especially when you’re harboring a secret like the one I had.

  “That sucks,” she said. “I mean, it’s good for you. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. But I was going to invite you to my aunt and uncle’s lake house in Virginia this weekend.”

  “Oh, sorry.” I tried to make it sound as genuine as I could, but I’m not sure I pulled it off. Either way, Tara let it slide.

  “Hey, we have all summer. You’ve got to see this place. It’s so beautiful. There’s so much to do there.”

  I closed my locker. “That sounds really good. Sure.”

  “Going to your bench?” she asked. “I could meet you there. I’m going to pick up a sandwich or taco or something from one of the food trucks.”

  “Actually, I need to make a phone call. I’m sorry.”

  She looked a little disappointed and I felt bad. But I needed some alone time.

  I got to the Mall, only to find a family sitting on my favorite bench. The sun was high and bright, a cloudless day, and I’d been looking forward to sitting in the shade. I managed to find a spot, sat on the ground, and got my phone out.

  I texted Finn: I miss you.

  He wrote back almost immediately: Couple more days. You won’t be missing me then. You won’t be able to get me off of you.

  I smiled for the first time that day.

  Tuesdays weren’t my normal day to go to the shelter, but I felt like it was what I needed. They never turned away help, anyway. I fed some of the dogs in their crates, refilled their water bowls, then took a few out for a short walk.

  When I got back, I took Winnie to the grooming room and spent an hour washing her, drying her, clipping her nails, and before it was all over I tied a little red ribbon around her left ear in the form of a bow.

  “You look so pretty,” I said to her. She panted hot dog breath back in my face. “And you’ve just been pampered more than I’ve pampered myself.”

  I never felt strange talking to dogs. They always listen and they never tell your secrets.

  Later that night, I managed somehow not to text or call Finn. It took all the resolve I could muster not to reach out to him, tell him that I missed him something awful, and wished he were with me, by my side all night.

  Instead, I lost myself in a book and drifted off to sleep early.

  Chapter Nine (Finn)

  I woke up early Tuesday morning, rented a car, and set out for Alexandria, Virginia, just on the other side of D.C.

  It w
as where the next operation was going to go down, and it was where I was going to meet Chris Spencer. We hadn’t talked in over four years, and the last time I’d seen him was a decade ago when we embarked on the mission to Chechnya.

  Staying in Alexandria for a couple of days also put me closer to Rachel’s apartment. Without much to do until Spencer arrived, I drove by her place a few times Tuesday morning and afternoon.

  Call it paranoia. Call it whatever you wish. The situation was changing rapidly and I was growing more and more concerned for her safety. Aside from the work I was doing for Wilshire, I had never felt that kind of vigilance.

  For her own good, I hadn’t told her where I was going. For all she knew, I could be in Tennessee or Connecticut.

  I wasn’t expecting an FBI raid on her house, or a drone strike. I hadn’t quite let my concern grow that much. What I did worry about, though, was someone snooping around her place at the behest of McDowell. I knew he had done all manner of surveillance on other operatives and people they were associated with. Not much of it seemed like anything Mr. Wilshire would have directed, but I couldn’t be sure of that, either.

  What I was facing was almost cliché—a threat from within, someone who was supposed to be on my side.

  That also made me wonder if I had been given the real story behind McDowell’s decision to send Spencer to work with me on this operation.

  . . . . .

  My suspicion didn’t diminish when Spencer arrived just after 1 p.m. He had called and said he was about thirty minutes out, so I went to Savio’s, an Italian restaurant in Alexandria, where we had planned to meet.

  I got a table in a back corner and ordered an appetizer and a beer, and it wasn’t long until Spencer entered the restaurant and approached the hostess stand. His eyes scanned the place until he saw me.

  I stood when he got to the table, extended my hand to shake his, but he pulled me into a hug.