The man made no answer, merely grunting as he flipped her up into a fireman’s carry. She sagged against him, her head lolling. She was bounced atop his broad shoulder for several feet before he deposited her none-too-gently on the ground. She immediately put her head between her knees, trying to ease the nauseated feeling swirling in her belly.
“You hurt?” her savior asked. She took stock for a moment, wiggling her fingers and toes. Nothing seemed broken. She would probably have whiplash tomorrow, but overall it seemed she’d been extremely lucky. She shook her head in answer, her ears brushing her knees.
“You gonna puke?” he continued. She made no answer to that, not entirely sure if her stomach had settled. “Cause if you’re gonna puke, darling, I’m ready to hold back all that pretty hair.”
Hair? She patted her head. Her dark curls were loose, her hair tie and headband missing. No doubt they’d been thrown off some time during the insanity of being run off the road and brawling with a mystery man. A man she still couldn’t work up the nerve to look at.
Wait. Maybe not unknown. As though someone had whispered the answer in her ear, she realized she knew that Southern accent. Memories from the previous day filtered in. Not just Southern. Texan.
She knew who the man was.
Four
Irina’s head snapped up, her terrified expression rearranging itself into a glare. She was instantly suspicious. Of all the people to be in this situation with, he was probably the last one she’d choose.
Well, no. Charles would be the last. Okay, second to last, then.
Finn was crouched near her, looking peeved. His lip was split, and a bruise was blooming on his left cheek. Her handiwork, no doubt. “The librarian?” His tone was shocked, and she bristled. He ran a hand through his too-long hair, looking her over again thoroughly, as if with new eyes. “Hunh. Wouldn’t have thought you had that much fight in you.”
She ignored the insult for the moment. “Did you run me off the road?” she demanded.
His golden eyes widened, and he threw his hands up, palms splayed, like she was a wild animal he was trying not to spook. “What? No way. I wouldn’t do that.”
She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Why should I believe you?”
“Why shouldn’t you?” he countered, eyes sparking.
“I don’t know what you’re capable of. I don’t even know you,” she scoffed.
“Sure you do,” he said, his jaw setting in a stubborn line. “You met me yesterday, at the library.”
“Yes, and in those five minutes, you insulted me and antagonized your friend. Hardly a stellar character reference.”
His expression was furious. “Being an asshole doesn’t mean I like to kill people. I ain’t never taken a life.” He inched closer, shuffling his knees, and she flinched. He stopped, but he flexed his fingers against his thighs. He looked like he was trying to keep himself still so as not to scare her, but couldn’t fight his natural instinct to fidget. “Does this look like the face of a psycho?” he asked, gesturing to his much-too-handsome face.
She pursed her lips. “In my experience, the psychos of this world rarely twirl their mustaches and monologue their evil plans.”
He chuckled. “Ah, so she does have a sense of humor.” She shot him a bleak look in response, and he sighed. “Look, lady, I was just trying to be a Good Samaritan.”
“I don’t understand. How did you even see what happened?”
“Was headed back home because I forgot my phone. I live that-a-ways,” he said, pointing back up the mountain, in the direction she lived. “Saw someone tailgating you, so I turned around and followed.”
“It’s a likely story,” she said, still feeling suspicious. She hadn’t seen anyone else on the road. But then, she had been a little preoccupied by the man in the blue truck.
He reached out and put his hands on her knees, and she jolted. His touch sent a little zing through her, like when her shoes would build up static electricity from rubbing against the industrial carpet in the library. She looked up at him, shocked. Clearly he felt it, too, because he quickly drew his hands back as though scalded. He stared at her for a moment, his honey-gold eyes unreadable.
Finally he cleared his throat. “Anyways. Was gonna try to get his plate number and call the cops, but then he ran you off the road.” He scowled. “Coward took off once he saw me pull over.” He cracked his knuckles and rolled his head from side to side. “Didn’t get the plate number either. Probably won’t even be worth it to call the cops. Gotta be a million old beaters like that one on this island.”
She closed her eyes. “It’s just as well.”
“Whaddya mean by that?”
She shook her head, not willing to admit the bleakness of her situation. Charles had money and influence. Even if he were caught, he’d spin the situation in his favor somehow. Maybe he’d say it’d looked like she was leaking fluid and he was trying to get her to pull over. Or that she’d been the one driving erratically, tailgating him. He’d insinuate that she was drunk, so she’d be the one going to jail. Or maybe he’d tell them she was just crazy.
That last one was his favorite. He had a way of twisting nearly everything she said or did to make her look unstable. It was his word against hers, and Charles was just so darn likeable. Not like sardonic, unsmiling Irina, who had to work against her own nature just to be polite. Even Babushka had been taken in by him at first. Until she’d seen the bruises.
But by then, Irina had been trapped. He’d slowly manipulated their life together, until she had no job, no money of her own, no family or friends. No escape. Always done in such a way that it would feel like her idea. Weren’t you just saying you wished you could stay home and bake all day? You were just telling me you had nothing in common with your college friends anymore. Didn’t the doctor just tell you that Babushka should have full-time care?
He’d slithered and hissed and nipped, like a snake luring her to its den, until every single aspect of her life had been under his control.
That’s when his fangs had come out.
The first time he’d hit her, she’d been so shocked that she could barely understand what happened. When it had finally sunk in, that Charles had actually punched her, she’d been so furious that she couldn’t see straight. She’d told him she wanted a divorce. She’d even started packing her bags. They’d only been married for six months.
But he’d apologized, tear-soaked promises to never do it again. She’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. Charles loved her, she’d told herself. He’d just lost his temper. And she’d provoked him, really. She’d been nagging him all day about stupid little things. She was always getting on his nerves that way. It had only been a matter of time before he snapped, really.
But then it had happened again. And again, and again.
By the time she’d realized it was a pattern of abuse, she was drowning in the shame, the fear, the hopelessness of feeling like she was losing her goddamn mind. Irina had always thought of herself as smarter than the average bear. She could solve the Sunday crossword in minutes, could tell you whodunnit in the first chapter of a mystery novel. But she couldn’t see this coming. Worse yet, she couldn’t see a way out.
She’d gone to the police the first time she tried to escape. Turned out, the officer assigned to her case was Charles’ fraternity brother. Charles had warned him about Irina’s delusions before she’d ever set foot inside the precinct. She’d quickly learned not to trust the police after that.
The sound of a vehicle approaching shook her from her dark thoughts. She sprang to her feet, preparing to flee.
“Relax, Sugar Ray,” Finn said, rubbing his bruised cheek, looking off into the distance. “It’s my brothers.”
She couldn’t see anything yet. She narrowed her eyes at him. “How do you know that?”
Before he could answer, she saw a red truck pull up behind Finn’s rusty black Ford. The driver’s side door swung open, and a familiar figure got out. “Finn?”
<
br /> “Sherman! Over here!” Finn called out. He avoided her questioning gaze as he waved his brother over.
“We waited a while, but when you didn’t come back, we came looking for you,” Sherman called as he picked his way through the trees. He stopped short when he saw Irina. He looked back and forth between the two of them, raising his eyebrows.
Finn took a step closer to Irina. “Some asshole ran her off the road. Took off when he saw me.”
“Then what the hell happened to your face?” a new voice asked. Irina looked behind Sherman, doing a double-take when she saw a man emerge from the trees.
The newcomer looked just like Finn. Same white-blonde hair, same tall stature and broad shoulders. And again with those honey-colored eyes. She shivered, looking back and forth between the two brothers. The only noticeable difference was their age; Finn was clearly the older brother.
Finn rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “She didn’t know I wasn’t the dude who ran her down,” he said, pointing to Irina. “She fought me.”
The younger brother looked Irina over, noting her short, thin frame. Then he burst out laughing.
Finn’s face darkened. “Shut up, Colt.”
But Colt continued to laugh. “Oh man, you got beat up by a girl.” He leaned over, slapping his thighs. “This is too good.”
“Colt,” Finn practically growled. “Knock it off.”
Colt gestured to Irina. “I mean, how the hell did she get the drop on you? Looks like a gnat could take her in a fight.”
Finn advanced on his brother. “Have some respect for your elders.”
“Why the hell should I respect someone who let a 90-pound weakling kick the shit out of him?”
“Not me, idiot. She’s older’n all of us, and you-”
“That’s enough!” Sherman’s voice cut through the shouting. He was watching Irina, no doubt noting her dark expression.
She was only thirty-four, for God’s sake! It’s not like she was old enough to be his mother. Couldn’t he just get over it already?
“Irina, are you all right?” Sherman asked.
She took a deep breath. She was being ridiculous. Charles had been the one to run her off the road, and here she was worrying about another man. A man who thought she was a boring, old, and lazy. She needed to focus on the fact that Charles was here, in town. He’d tried to kill her.
She pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to combat the nausea that had surfaced again. “I’m fine.” She turned, moving toward her car. “Thanks for your help, all of you, but I’m fine.”
“Whoa.” Finn was suddenly in her path. She wasn’t able to stop herself in time, and she smacked into him, putting her hands to his chest to steady herself. He looked down at her, his eyes flashing. “Where the hell d’you think you’re going?”
Her nostrils flared. “I’m getting back in my car.”
He snorted. “And you’ll what, drive it up the bank, between the trees?”
She narrowed her eyes. “If you think you can stop me, you are sorely mistaken.” She sidestepped, but he matched her. “Get out of my way.” Her voice was dangerously calm.
His eyes were dark as he looked down at her, a scowl twisting his pretty mouth. “No.”
“What is your problem?”
He raised his eyebrows. “My problem? Some psycho just ran you off the road, and you wanna climb back in your car like nothing happened!”
“Look,” she said, her voice shaking with anger. God, this kid really got her blood up. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me here. But what I do now is none of your damn business.”
His jaw set in a stubborn line. “Like hell it isn’t. Someone just tried to kill you. You were scared enough that you fought me tooth and nail just for trying to get you out of the car.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “And don’t think I forgot about that phone call yesterday. You were spooked worse’n a calf in a thunderstorm.”
She balled her hands into fists. “What would you even know about that? You were too busy picking out movies for your girlfriend to pay attention to anything outside yourself!”
He smirked. “She ain’t my girlfriend, sweetheart.”
That stopped her short. “What?”
“Lila is Henry’s girl,” he explained, still with that infuriating smirk on his face.
She shook her head. “Look, I don’t care.” She had no idea who Henry and Lila were, or any of these people, for that matter. She was alone on an island full of strangers. Which is why she needed to get to town so she could take her self-defense class. She had no one else to rely on.
He chuckled. “Sure you don’t, darling.”
She counted to ten in her head, trying to rein in her temper. She was so close to blowing her top. “I am not your darling,” she bit out. “And I will be damned before I let a man tell me what to do again.” She sidestepped him again. “Now let me pass.”
He stepped in front of her again, and this time, she’d had enough. She swung her fisted hand out at his jaw.
He stopped her hand easily, his superior strength and reflexes prevailing. His expression was thunderous as he looked down at her. “You got a free pass the last time, on account of someone just tried to kill you.” He leaned in, his voice dangerously low. “But you try to take a swing at me again, and you and I will have words, you understand me?”
She hitched a breath. He may have been much younger than her, but he was no kid, not really. She took in the breadth of his shoulders, the tight muscles of his arms and chest. If he wanted to, he could swat her like a fly. But the way he held her fist was gentle, like he was holding himself back. And the look in his eyes was anything but dangerous. Not physically, anyway. He looked…
No, surely she was imagining the desire in his eyes. He wouldn’t be turned on by her. He’d made that very clear, more than once.
“If y’all are done flirting, can we get back to the dock? Matt just called. They’re fixin’ to set off without us.”
“Fine,” Finn said. He stepped back, but kept hold of her hand. “Let’s go.”
She frowned. “I’m taking my car.”
“No.” Finn’s tone was final.
She opened her mouth to argue, but Sherman cut her off. “Actually, I think he’s right. Both your rear tires are blown out.” She glanced over to see him crouched near the Volkswagen’s bumper. “I think it must have happened when you spun off the road.” He stood, wiping his glasses on his shirt. “These aren’t off-road tires. They never stood a chance.”
Finn nodded. “Good, that’s settled then. She comes with us.”
Irina gaped. “What? I’m not going off on some fishing boat with a bunch of people I don’t know-”
“Now, I thought we settled this,” Finn said, lacing his fingers through hers and pulling her along behind him. “We met yesterday at the library.”
She glared. “That’s not good enough.”
“What, you want a formal introduction? Fine. I’m Finn Dorsey. And you are Irina-?”
“Vasiliev,” she bit out through gritted teeth.
“Great. Now that we got that out of the way, let’s get going.”
She huffed out a breath. Clearly she wasn’t going to win this argument, which chafed. She’d sworn to herself that she would never be under a man’s thumb again. But she had to admit, she felt safe with Finn. He drove her crazy, and she still kind of wanted to punch him, but she was certain that he wouldn’t harm her. Besides, she’d be safer with other people. And she’d be out at sea, to boot. She thought, with no small amount of satisfaction, that Charles would have a difficult time following her this time.
But Irina was nothing if not stubborn, and she wasn’t prepared to go without a bit more fight. “I don’t know everyone else,” she said mulishly.
He smiled at her over his shoulder. “Well, you know Sherman Alexander.” He nodded over to his younger doppelgänger. “That’s my brother, Colton.”
A thought occurred to her, and she stopped short,
digging in her heels. “I thought Sherman said you two were brothers?”
Behind her, she heard someone laugh. Colt, she thought. His voice was higher than Sherman’s deep bass.
Finn smiled again. “We’re more like a pack, you might say.” He chuckled. “We all work together on the boat, and we live together, too.”
She widened her eyes. “And just how many of you are there?”
Finn’s smile widened into a grin, and she hitched a breath at the beauty of it. “You’ll see.”
Leeward Bear (BBW Shifter Romance) (Fisherbears Book 3) Page 144