by Shannyn Leah
Using his teeth, Stone pulled at the Velcro of his gloves before yanking them off. He gripped his father’s shoulders. “Nothing will distract me.”
His father looked at the gloves. “Lose them. Wrap your hands. I’ll make a few calls tonight to get you started first thing in the morning.” He walked to his office leaving Stone alone with Dax.
His friend had stopped in front of him. For a long time, they stared at each other.
“Thank you for bidding on me today.”
More time passed between them. “Do not get yourself killed.”
“I don’t plan on it.”
Chapter Six
TWO DAYS HAD passed and Stone still hadn’t contacted Bowie to discuss arrangements or confirm her preparations for the upcoming fights.
Against her best attempts, her brother’s heeded warning about Stone’s rash, heat-of-the-moment decision to fight had her replaying their encounter in her head, around the clock.
She’d tried to relax—as much as she could when her brother’s life was at stake. Being at a resort had made the effort easy. After mornings spent being pampered in the quiet and peaceful atmosphere of the spa, she’d left feeling physically improved. The soothing gliding and kneading of the massage therapist had eliminated her tight and tense muscles and surprisingly reduced the stress—temporarily. After ordering their first breakfast buffet to be sent to the suite and finding herself sitting across from her brother’s snarling demeanor and obvious snippets of Stone’s absence drove her further away from the suite. She’d basically checked off each resort amenity, swimming, tennis, the gym, and privately rented each space to distract her, but nothing could keep her concern at bay.
Had Stone changed his mind?
Was her brother doomed to roll into a ring with Walker and leave in a body bag?
Unable to stay another day at the resort, she decided she needed to get as far away as she could. She called the valet to have her car waiting for her before sifting through the minimal clothes she’d packed. Dresses and more dresses.
She sighed, spotting her suitcase propped on the folding luggage rack. She hadn’t emptied everything. Lifting the lid, she smiled at the sight of her painting jeans. She’d brought the denim in case she needed a reminder of who she was now. She’d known walking back into a world with Stone would mess with her head and she’d need a good grounding. Her jeans seemed like the answer.
As she looked at them now, she envisioned the perfect outfit to help her blend in with the tourist crowds. Slipping into the light-wash denim with more rips and paint splatters than on her art, she decided to keep on the tank top she already wore.
Walking out of her room, she saw Duke straighten from the counter he leaned on and slip his phone into his T-shirt pocket. She felt bad about Reed’s T-shirt comment the night before. Duke lived in black pants and T-shirts.
He looked her outfit up and down. “Are we going painting?”
She smiled. “You’re not going anywhere.”
He stepped in line with her as she walked to the front door and slipped a pair of sandals on.
“I need you to stay with Reed.”
“Where are you going?”
“Just into town.”
“Absolutely not.” He’d kept his shoes on and he pressed the elevator button, ready to tag along with her.
“Duke, I’m fine. I’ve already phoned the valet and I’m picking the car up at the front. I just need to drive.” When he didn’t look convinced she added, “Alone.”
His jaw ticked the way it did whenever he debated a situation. Her dad had hired him years before he’d died, and she’d never questioned Duke’s observance, accuracy, and protectiveness. But her father didn’t pay him anymore. She didn’t like to remind him she was the boss when his intentions were good, but since she’d stepped out of the spotlight, she wasn’t hounded the same. Most of the time, people didn’t even notice her. She’d be fine alone for a couple hours in town.
She lowered her voice. “Duke, I’m not asking for your permission.”
His lips thinned and his thick chest rose with his deep breath. “Are you meeting Stone?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’d feel better if I knew you were.”
“I can’t promise you that, but...” She grinned and reached up to grab his backwards baseball cap. “I’ll go incognito.” She slipped the hat over her hair and it slid down over her eyes.
He took the hat off her head and shortened the strap before placing it back on her head. His lips didn’t even crack what could be mistaken for a smile. “Call if you need anything.”
“I promise.”
Reluctantly, he stepped aside in perfect time to the opening doors.
Fifteen minutes later, Bowie drove down the country road heading toward Willow Valley. She cranked up the volume of the beating pop music and rolled the windows down, letting the warm summer air breeze through the vehicle. Her foot pressed the pedal down further and the wide-open road zoomed by.
When Willow Valley came into view, she made a rash decision and took a right turn down a side road which led to a bend and another side road until was so lost she’d need the GPS to find her way back to town. That was okay. She continued driving.
Her sunglasses deterred the glare of the sun and her eyes took in her all her surroundings. High grasses blew in the ditches, fields lined rows of budding crops, and running streams of water photographed in her head like pictures. Clips she’d take home and spend hours recreating with a fresh pallet in her art room. The gravel roads weaved and dipped. Her favorite areas were the ones where never-ending trees lined each side of the road. She eased her foot from the gas pedal and absorbed the beauty which felt like a secret garden. The sun shimmered over a stream and, as she drove over a bridge, she spotted an older stone bridge in the distance. Her curiosity peeked, leaving all else forgotten.
She pressed the brake and pulled onto a flattened grassy patch on the side of the road. She reached for her cell phone in the console and climbed out of the vehicle, tucking the cell in her back pocket. The trampled grassy path indicated she wasn’t the first person to find this secret trail. Stepping cautiously sideways, she tracked the grassy path as it descended to a rocky shoreline. Being at the water’s edge, she looked to the right at the modern bridge then to the old bridge on the other side. She turned left and started her hike along the river.
She stopped where some rocks lined a campfire pit and broken logs were stationed around the circle for seats. She pulled her cell phone out to swipe her camera open. Bending down, she snapped a couple of pictures from a low angle. Some included the inclining hill and brush in the distance, while others were closer. Afterwards, she stepped back and carefully climbed halfway up the hill to take a few pictures from the higher viewpoint, including shots with the river. With each snap, she could almost envision the teenagers hanging out here, around the fire, young and free, laughing and smiling. Maybe there were a couple best friends, or a first love. She could see a couple of jocks horse-playing to show off for the girls giggling with beer they weren’t old enough to drink.
She straightened and smiled. To be young and that free again.
Continuing her journey, she made it to her destination and stopped to admire the skill of the people who’d made the bridge the intricate way the stone had been placed with cement embracing it together. It was a picture worth a thousand words and her fingers itched to dip brushes into her pallets and recreate this on canvas.
She took pictures from every angle and height she could think of and, when she finished, she sat in the middle of the bridge and dangled her feet over the edge. Her stomach growled and she wished she’d packed a sandwich, but she’d planned on finding Stone to demand to know why he hadn’t contacted her. Right now, alone with the breeze rustling the leaves above her and the soothing sound of water flowing over the edges of rocks below, she only saw how perfect the peaceful scene would be to paint. She could picture dragging her supplies out here a
nd painting from first light until sunset.
Not wanting to leave this place quite yet, she started further up the river and deeper into the brush. She paused to take pictures of blooming flowers in their natural habitat, and vines winding up and around large tree trunks. When she was almost ready to turn around, she stumbled upon a suspended tire swinging from an enormous tree branch on a thick rope above the river. A rickety-looking handmade dock made out of planks of old wood and only about two-feet wide had been built close enough to grab the tire swing.
She stopped to the edge of the dock, slipped off her sandals with the intention of testing the tire swing, but not wanting to get her jeans wet and trudge all the way back through the bush in damp clothes. She gripped the top button of her jeans before twisting each way to ensure she was alone in the surrounding. She smiled at the breathtaking sounds of nature.
She unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down her legs. Reaching for the hem of her shirt, she pulled it over her head, scooped up her jeans and tossed both garments in a pile, away from the possibility of being splashed. She left her cell phone on top of the pile and, wearing only her bra and underwear, she headed toward the water’s edge. Dipping her toes in the water, she wiggled the tips. Freedom escalated up her body giving her the courage to take the first step, and the next. The water quickly rose to her waist and she relied on her toes to guide the way. She stopped when she felt a dip on the muddy water’s floor and stuck her foot out further feeling it drop down.
Perfect.
She sprinted out of the water and took a step back on the dock. It groaned under her feet and had a little sway, but seemed solid enough. With each careful step, she made her way to the tire swing, then reached for it and climbed on board. Pumping her feet like a swing, she swayed back and forth until she felt confident enough to stand up. The deep breath she took made her insides clench together and she squealed as the swing moved away from the tree and the dock. Once it was far enough away, in that split second before it started back, she jumped.
Butterflies danced in her stomach and fluttered through the rest of her. Her delighted and partially electrified scream echoed around her until the water swallowed her whole. Cold and refreshing, she blasted downwards in the darkness and then, like a yo-yo, she popped back up and broke through the surface of the water. She pushed her hair off her face and laughter rumbled up her chest.
“Whooo!” she shouted, throwing her hands in the air, only to dunk down under the water again and swallow a mouthful. She coughed, but nothing could keep the smile from her lips.
Swimming back to the surface, visions of paintings flashed inside her mind. She needed pictures to capture everything.
Using her shirt, she wiped the water from her face and dried her hands before grabbing her cell phone and starting another round of pictures from all angles, taking in the tiniest detail. She soon became lost in the determination of taking shots with the best angles, and highlighting the sun peeking through the trees and the way it hit the water, or the dock. But soon found herself tucking her cell phone into her bra to free her hands as she climbed up the huge old tree.
The multiple branches had grown out in random directions, reminding her of a haunted tree from a fairy tale, and made it easy for her to climb to the branch where the tire swing hung. Using the branch above, she balanced herself to stand. Slowly, she walked to the middle of the bough and lowered herself to straddle the thick limb. The view took her breath away. The swing moved ever so slightly below with the light breeze and, being at the mid-height of the trees surrounding her, she felt like part of the scene.
She pulled her cell phone out and repeated her picture snapping madness. When she finished, she glanced around one last time and sighed. She never wanted to leave. After years of being in the spotlight, craving the attention, these days she found herself longing for time alone. Today had been a perfect example of what she longed to have.
The sun had moved further west indicating the hours gone by. Duke would be worried and Reed would be driving him crazy with questions.
She rose to her feet, grabbed a branch above, and took a few steps when she remembered she’d left her cell phone sitting on the limb. She turned back, holding a branch with one hand, and bent down. Just as her fingers were inches away from her cell phone, the branch above her snapped. She frantically grasped for another branch, but was unable to reach one. Her balance tipped, her body waved, and her legs wobbled. Before she could balance herself upright, she had tilted and slipped. In an attempt to grab anything, she flailed her arms. The last thing she remembered was feeling a clonk before blacking out.
Chapter Seven
SHIT.
Bowie’s startled scream ended as her head hit the tree branch, either knocking her out or giving her a good startle. She fell from the tree like a sandbag into the water below.
Stone jumped off the four-wheeler. He ran down the hill’s incline, tearing off his shirt and kicking his sandals, not caring where they landed. He tossed his cell phone on a grassy patch close enough to grab if he needed to call an ambulance once he had her out of the water.
What the hell was she doing here? When had she started climbing trees? And how hard had she hit her head?
He ran across the old, unsteady dock he’d considered tearing down to prevent the kids who snuck down here from hurting themselves on it. The warped wood creaked under his weight, threatening to crash, but he didn’t have time to worry about himself as he scanned the water for Bowie.
Shades of murky green water made it impossible to see through. With no signs of her on the surface of the water, he dived beside the rippling waves of her fall. The cool river alleviated some of the soreness he’d raked up during his training. Unable to see underwater, he relied on his other senses for the search. He pushed past the burning sensation of his throbbing muscles, wishing he’d taken some pain killers earlier, and knowing he wouldn’t be able to skip icing it tonight. Finally, after what felt like too long, he felt her body rub against his leg. He circled around, cringing at the spasm in his waist. He grabbed what felt like her ankle and pulled her against him as he swam them to the surface. Emerging from the water, he lifted her head out and pressed the side of his face against her mouth feeling for a breath.
Nothing.
She lay lifeless floating in his arms. He carried her limp body out of the water and laid her down on a bed of grass. Feeling the side of her neck, he didn’t feel a pulse.
Shit.
He turned her head to the side and let the water drain from her mouth before centering her head. He pinched her nose, pressed his mouth against hers, and puffed four strong breaths inside. He put his ear to her mouth and watched her chest.
Nothing.
He started chest compressions and repeated mouth-to-mouth. One, two, three. “Come on Bowie.” He pressed her chest again. One, two, three. One, two, three.
She coughed.
“Bowie.” He rolled her over to help get all the water out. She gasped and then took in a few deep, long breaths. He rolled her onto her back and gripped both sides of her cheeks. “Are you alright? Hey.”
She pressed her hands against her chest as it rose with each breath. She gave a small nod, closing her eyes and opening them again. “I’m okay ... I think.”
He slid his hand under her backside. “We have to get you to a hospital.”
“No.” She shook her head and tried to sit up, but stopped and pressed her palm against her forehead.
“Take it slow. How’s your neck feel?”
“My neck?” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Fine.”
“You hit your head. You could have a concussion.”
“I’ll drive back to the resort.”
“Drive? You’re not driving.”
“My car ... it’s ... it’s at the road. Duke and my brother can watch over me.”
“You’re not driving,” he repeated.
“Stone, I’m fine.” Her placid protest stated otherwise.
“You fell out of a tree.”
“You walk into rings and take blows to the head all the time.”
“Not the same.”
“It is.”
“I can’t get my four-wheeler to the road. I’ll drive you to my house and you can phone Duke from there. As long as you agree to go to the hospital. Otherwise, I’m taking you myself.” When she started to object, he said, “Woman, you can either put your clothes on and willingly come with me or I’m going to pick you up the way you are and hoist you onto my machine.”
She glanced down at her black lace bra and pink panties then past him at the four-wheeler. She wrinkled her nose. “You can drive me as close to my car as you can get—ahhh!” He lifted her into the air. “Put me down, Patino.!
“You had your chance.” He started walking toward the hill.
“Okay. Okay, I’ll get dressed and willingly come with you.”
He stopped and apprehensively eyed her.
“I promise. Put me down.”
The corner of his mouth lifted at her snarl. He sort of liked having her almost naked in his arms, pleading with him. How the tables had turned in his favor. He held her a little longer than necessary and enjoyed her squeamishness until he enough time to make her uneasy had passed. Then he gently eased her feet to the ground. She wavered on her own so he kept his arm around her back. “You okay?”
She didn’t answer right away and touched her head. “I’m groggy.”
Sign of a concussion. “Can you stand on your own?”
“Yes. Just give me a second.”
He did as she requested, supporting her until she felt confident enough to step away. She slightly wavered while she pulled a tank top over her head. He tried to be somewhat respectable and didn’t stare at her backside as the lace edge of her panties swept over her silky, water-beaded derriere. And her long legs. Damn, he’d missed those long legs. How they felt wrapped around his waist, his lips pressing kisses up her thigh—