Stolen: A Novel of Romantic Suspense

by Shiloh Walker

  “Yeah. I remember. And you’ve been a moody, mean bastard ever since.” She crossed her arms over her chest, watching him with flat eyes. “You still have feelings for her and you can’t honestly tell me you don’t.”

  “It’s not about whether or not I have feelings for her.” Hell, yes, he had feelings for her. But Shay had so many secrets—she kept herself so closed off. It had been killing him inside, bit by bit. He loved her, but she wouldn’t open up. Wouldn’t give him anything.

  She was alone …

  Fuck.

  “Then what is it about? What in the hell is so awful that it’s keeping you locked in here even though I know you want to go out there and see her?”

  Lorna had disappeared into the office.

  The second she did, Shay promptly moved to the very back of the store, far away from the long wooden counter that held the computer, the cash register, and everything else. Far away from the door where she’d last seen Lorna.

  She was in there talking to Elliot. Shay knew it. Her friend still hadn’t come to grips with the fact that the two of them were over.

  There was an ache in her chest—a dull one that had nothing to do with her still recovering body. Yeah, she knew Lorna hadn’t come to grips with the fact that her friend and her brother weren’t together anymore.

  Shay still hadn’t come to grips with it.

  She still thought about him all the time.

  He’d been the first person she wanted to see when she woke up in the hospital. And she had almost called him, too. But he had told her he was done.

  So she hadn’t called. Maybe he was done, but she wasn’t. She missed him, thought about him all the time.

  She still dreamed about him.

  She still wished she’d be working and hear the phone ring and just know it was him.

  Not that many other people ever really called her.

  There’d been a number of business-related calls, but those didn’t really count. Lorna. Shay’s assistant, Darcy, but that was about it. Hell, the only phone calls she really looked forward to anymore were Lorna’s. Guilt tugged at her, because there had been a time when she’d loved talking to Darcy, but lately …

  Hell, you ought to be thankful you’ve got Darcy to talk to. Darcy and Lorna, both? You should dance. That’s two friends.

  Yet neither of them did anything to ease the loneliness that had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. Only Elliot had done that. But she hadn’t been able to keep him …

  You won’t share any damn thing with me, Shay … how long are we supposed to keep this up?

  He’d asked her that, and she hadn’t been able to answer.

  Are you ever going to let me in?

  That, she could have answered. The answer had been no. But she hadn’t wanted to hurt him, so she kept the answer trapped behind her teeth. He’d seen it anyway, in her eyes, in the way she watched him.

  I guess that’s it, then.

  They were over … just like that.

  He hadn’t been unkind and he hadn’t tried to force anything out of her. But it was over just the same and her heart had been an aching, empty mess ever since. She missed him so much. There were times when she wanted to talk to him, wanted to see him so bad …

  A shiver danced along her spine and she looked up, turned her head. Even before she saw him standing at the end of the aisle, staring at her, she knew.

  He wasn’t too tall, his height brushing in just under five-ten, but there was a caged strength to his body that might have frightened her if it had been anybody but Elliot. Hell, at first, he had made her nervous. But he’d been patient, as though he knew if he moved too fast …

  Golden eyes stared at her over the distance that separated them and even now, they managed to make her shiver.

  Swallowing, she swiped her hands down her skirt and tried to get herself to calm down—to settle down, but her heart was racing away inside her chest and he hadn’t said a damn thing. He was staring at her, his gaze roaming over her body, as though searching for any sign of injury that lingered from the wreck.

  Well, he was about to see one.

  As if her face wasn’t already screwed up enough.

  Bracing herself, she turned fully toward him.

  But he didn’t do the double take just about everybody else had done upon seeing the bruises that still lingered. The swelling was finally going down and thank God, her nose had healed fairly well.

  Most of the other injuries were hidden by clothing, but even Shay had been a bit dismayed by how awful she’d looked.

  “You look like you should still be in bed,” he said bluntly.

  Yes, I look awful. You look amazing. Hell, he always looked amazing. Long and lean, strong without being too bulky, nice shoulders. Man, she’d always loved his shoulders. Right now, they were covered by a denim shirt that lay open over a Bob Marley T-shirt. It stretched over a lean belly and was left untucked over a pair of beat-up jeans.

  Here at Winter’s End, the owners went for the casual look. Very casual, in Elliot’s case.

  The look suited him.

  But then again, if you were Elliot Winter, just about any look would suit you. She’d seen pictures of him from his army days and he’d worn his uniform with as much ease as he wore those jeans of his.

  A powerful body, a face that was almost too pretty. Thick hair, a shade between rich auburn and brown that blazed with just a little more red during the summer. His eyes also blazed with color—burnished gold. Like whiskey, they made her drunk, but without that pesky hangover.

  He wasn’t hers anymore, though, and it hurt. It hurt like a bitch. He wasn’t hers anymore because she couldn’t be what he needed. Acknowledging that had broken her heart.

  Because just looking at him made the ache worse, she looked away. “I spent almost three weeks flat on my back. I’d rather not spend any more time in bed unless I have to.” Peering around him, she looked for Lorna—she had to kick that woman’s ass. “Did Lorna send you out here?”

  “Not exactly. I wanted to see you.” Dark russet hair fell into his eyes and he brushed it back absently as he closed the distance between them. “I heard the other driver walked away with barely a scratch.”

  Scowling, she shrugged and turned back to the books. She’d been in such a reading slump lately—it wasn’t just the car wreck, either. It had been going on since … well. The breakup. She hadn’t been able to read or focus on much of anything all that well since he’d walked away from her.

  “Is that right? He just walked away?”

  “No.” She gave him a dark look and stroked one of her few remaining bruises. “The jerk stumbled away. The bastard was nearly twice the legal limit. And he didn’t stumble far—the police had him locked up before I even made it to the hospital, I think. It’s his third DUI in eighteen months, too.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “No.” A title caught her eye and she reached for the book. Skimming the blurb, she pursed her lips. It actually sounded almost intriguing. She dropped the book into the basket by her feet, but when she went to grab the handle, Elliot already had it.

  “I can carry a few books,” she pointed out.

  “So can I. And I didn’t just get out of the hospital.” The resolute look on his face made it clear that arguing with him wasn’t going to do much good.

  It never really had.

  Still, she had to at least try. “I didn’t just get out. I left the hospital a few days ago.”

  “Yes. And you spent nearly a week in a coma, several days in ICU, and another week recovering. I’m carrying the damn basket,” he said. He paused and then added, “You know … I would have come down to be with you … Hell. If I’d known it was that bad, they wouldn’t have been able to keep me away. I figured you’d call if you wanted me around. If you’d called, I would have been there.”

  Shay swallowed. “I know you would have. But we’re not together anymore, right?”

  “Does that me
an you can’t need a friend with you?” He touched her shoulder.

  That light touch sent her heart skittering around in her chest, a mad little dance that made her breathless. Breathing was already difficult. Being near him made it so much worse.

  “We’re not friends, though, are we, Elliot?” she said quietly.

  “So not dating means we can’t be friends?”

  “You didn’t want to be friends.” She hugged herself tightly and closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see the truth in them. She couldn’t handle being friends with him anyway. It would hurt too much. “You just wanted us to be over, remember? You said we were done. So we’re done. Besides, I managed okay.”

  “Always gotta be so tough, huh, Shay?”

  No. Miserable, she gave him her back and circled around the back edge of the store. She wasn’t tough at all. She was miserable and lonely and she wished like hell she could be what he needed, give him what he wanted. She just didn’t know how.

  At the back of the store, she headed for the fantasy section, bypassing the romance. Once upon a time, it had been her first stop in the store.

  “A couple of your favorite writers had books out last week. Don’t you want those?”

  “I’m not much into romance these days.” Depressing as hell, reading about a happily-ever-after when it was painfully clear she wasn’t very likely to find one. She’d have to settle for a humdrum-ever-after. Besides, as grim and moody as she was these days, she found herself connecting to action or gore or violence better.

  Stopping in front of the shelves featuring the newest releases, she studied them, all too aware of Elliot standing at her back. “You’ve probably got business to do, paperwork and all that crap. You can go back to it.”

  “Thanks for your permission,” he murmured.

  A warm hand settled low on her back. As he bent his head, Shay shivered at the feel of him. Damn it. Coming in here had been a BFM. Big fucking mistake. She should have just waited in the car …

  “I miss you.”

  Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Don’t.”

  His lips brushed across the side of her brow. “Don’t what? Tell you that I miss you? Miss us?”

  “Us?” She laughed hollowly as she turned to face him. “There is no us, remember? You said that. There’s me … and there’s you … and sometimes we’re together, but there’s no us.”

  His gaze held hers. “I never wanted it to be that way. And maybe there was more of an us than I realized. Seeing you …” He paused, took a deep breath. “Seeing you just drives that home.”

  Those intense, hypnotic eyes held hers. Her heart kicked up a few beats, stealing her breath away. As he started to dip his head, Shay stood there, frozen. Shit. What now …

  His mouth, so warm, brushed against hers. She gasped and then almost wished she hadn’t as he used that opportunity to tease the inside of her lips with his tongue, moving deeper and deeper. His hands came around her waist, tugging her closer.

  This is a bad idea …

  The warning was already screaming in her head. She couldn’t give him what he needed. And he couldn’t accept what she had to give. They would just hurt each other again—

  Tearing her mouth away, Shay ducked to the side. “We … we can’t do this.” She pressed a hand to her buzzing lips. “I’m just getting to the point where I’m used to going through the days without you calling. I’m just getting to where I can pass a few nights without dreaming about you.” Liar.

  Well, she did manage to go a few nights, she told herself. Usually, on those nights, she had nightmares, but so what? She wasn’t dreaming of Elliot, and that was all that counted, right?

  “Shay …” He reached up and touched her shoulder.

  But she didn’t want to hear what he had to say. She wasn’t going through this again. She wasn’t whole inside and she had to accept that and stop pretending otherwise, and it fucking hurt.

  Stooping down, she grabbed the basket of books from where he’d placed them on the floor. Without looking back at him, she headed for the front of the store.

  She had to get out of here. She could pay for her damn books and meet Lorna at the Italian place. It was two doors down—she could walk two fucking doors.

  Maybe not well. She was already weaving a little, lethargy and weakness still pervading her body, but she damn well wasn’t going to linger—

  She stumbled, her feet all but giving out under her. Crashing into a book dump just next to her, she flung out a hand, but there was nothing to grab. Books from the display went flying and just before she would have crashed to the floor, a pair of strong, steady hands gripped her waist. “I’ve got you,” Elliot murmured.

  I’ve got you …

  The room stopped spinning around her, even though her legs still felt like spaghetti noodles. Her heart slowed back down to its normal speed for a few seconds before embarrassment settled in. Swallowing, she closed her eyes and reached for some level of control.

  Stumbling all over the place.

  Running away from Elliot.

  She needed to get herself together.

  Sucking in a desperate draught of air, she blew it back out. Carefully, she eased away from Elliot, checking her legs. Okay, she could walk. This was good.

  Grimacing at the book dump she’d knocked over, she opened her mouth to apologize. The display had been holding a lot of books, she thought inanely. Foil lettering on one of them caught her eyes.

  Familiar lettering the shade of blood.

  Familiar …

  Her stomach dropped to her knees, and the waning strength in her abused body disappeared. Sinking to the floor, she reached out to touch one of the books.

  “Shay, I’ll pick it up,” Elliot said.

  His voice seemed to come to her from a tunnel. Her blood roared in her ears and black dots danced in front of her eyes for a long, ugly second. Stop it, Shay—breathe!

  No more panic attacks. She didn’t do panic attacks anymore.

  She looked down at the book in her hands—a book with a gold foil sticker on the top right corner that read, Signed by the author!

  Touching that sticker, she swallowed.

  No.

  This … this wasn’t happening.

  There was no way the author signed books here.

  Ever.

  He’d never seen Shay look that pale before.

  Considering she had a milk-pale complexion, that was saying quite a bit, too.

  He hunkered down next to her and reached out, touching his fingers to her cheek. There were still bruises there. The sight of them flooded him with fury and pain, and the need to touch her, really touch her, was almost overwhelming. Touch her to assure himself that she really was okay. Touch her … and try to convince her that she could trust him. Come back to him.

  But it wouldn’t happen. He should know that by now.

  “Shay … it’s okay,” he said tiredly, watching the way her hands trembled as she scooped up one of the books. “I’ll take care of it.”

  She jerked her gaze to his, but he had the weirdest feeling she wasn’t seeing him. There was a glassy, disconnected look in her eyes, one that had him worried. Hell, should she even be out of the hospital?

  “Can you stand?” he asked quietly.

  Two seconds later, she was lurching to her feet, clutching one of the Shane Neil books she’d picked up from the floor. “I need to go home.”

  She barely made it halfway upright before she wobbled again. Scowling, he rose to his feet and steadied her. “I think you should sit down. Eat. Have a drink or something.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Her head swung to the left, then the right.

  Searching for Lorna, he knew. “You’re never hungry. Maybe that’s why you’re feeling so awful.”

  “No.” And to his surprise, she started to laugh.

  It was a harsh, ugly sound … one that hurt him just to hear it.

  “I need to go home,” she said again.

  She still clutched th
e book. He stared at it and then shifted his gaze up to her face.

  “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

  Something’s off. Those dark eyes of hers, a color caught between the dusky purple of a twilight sky and the darkening navy of the coming night, stared into his, and he could see her trying to hide it.

  She was afraid.

  He could see it as clearly as he could see the bruises on her face, and the faint scars along her left cheek.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” he said softly. Please, damn it … for once, will you talk to me?

  Her lips parted. Something flitted across her face.

  His heart skipped a beat as she took a deep breath and looked down at the books all over the floor.

  Then the bell over the door rang and the moment shattered.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she said hoarsely. “I just need to go.”

  It was a lie. He knew it. And she knew he knew.

  But still, she turned on her heel and slowly, carefully, made her way to the counter.

  Once more, she’d pulled away.

  It was why they’d broken up.

  It was why he never should have kissed her.

  Setting his jaw, he crouched down to gather up the books. It wasn’t until he heard the bell over the door again that he looked back to the front of the store. She was gone.

  He righted the book dump and put all the books back in place, positioning Neil’s latest release at the top, the gold foil of the autograph sticker displayed.

  “Hey, where’s Shay?”

  Looking up, he saw Lorna heading his way. He jerked his head toward the door. “Outside. Upset. She won’t tell me why. Maybe she’ll tell you.”

  Although he wasn’t counting on it. She didn’t open up for his sister any easier than she opened up for him.

  Lorna’s face fell and he sighed. “Lorna … it’s no good. We tried, but it just isn’t going to work.”

  As she walked off, he tried to convince himself of the same thing. He’d seen her. Seen for himself that she’d come through the wreck okay. And he’d seen for himself that, without a doubt, Shay wasn’t any closer to changing now than she’d been a few months back.

  That was why they’d ended.

  That was why they had to stay ended.