Last Kiss

by Laurelin Paige

  It surprised me. “That’s not the same.”

  “Really? How is it different?”

  I opened my mouth to answer and realized I wasn’t sure it really was all that different.

  I rephrased. “Did you tell her that you still loved her?”

  The three seconds between my words and his response were heavy and long.

  Then, with his gaze pinned on mine, he answered. “Yes. I did.”

  When Amber had told me Reeve still loved her, I’d felt like I was falling. Now, I felt like I was fading. As if I were merely someone in a photograph left out too long in the sun, and although parts of my figure remained, I was no longer identifiable. I was no longer a person at all.

  It didn’t matter if there was more to his story or that he’d been honest with me when I’d asked or that he couldn’t really be blamed for loving a person that everyone loved, even me. All that mattered was that he’d said words to her that he still hadn’t officially said to me. I was the one who was supposed to belong to him. I was the one who deserved the sentiment, never mind my inability to say the words myself.

  What mattered was that he’d said it to her, and that hurt.

  I couldn’t be there anymore. Spinning away from him, I took off.

  “Don’t walk away from me!” he yelled after me.

  “This discussion is over!” I called back, not bothering to turn my head.

  Again I felt his grip on my upper arm as he pulled me to an abrupt stop. “The conversation is over when I say it’s over.” The menacing warning in his tone caused my heart to flip. My breath stuttered, and I wondered if he knew it wasn’t just because he’d startled me or because I’d exerted myself.

  The gleam in his eye said that he did.

  I couldn’t stand that gleam. Couldn’t bear what it did to me, how it made me sizzle and melt like it was a branding iron on my skin.

  I yanked my arm away. “I can’t talk to you right now.”

  He grabbed me again, this time at both of my wrists. “You don’t have to talk. You just have to listen.”

  Listening was even worse. He’d either say something I didn’t want to hear, or worse, he’d say something that I did. So I struggled to get away.

  “Stop fighting me.” His grasp tightened.

  But I was fierce. I was desperate. I had more on the line, and even though he would always be able to overpower me, I was determined to make him work for it.

  Even in front of all the people around, he wasn’t afraid to take me on. I raised my arm and twisted underneath so that I was facing away from him, my hands trapped behind me.

  “Goddammit, Emily, sometimes I want to throw you down and tie you up like you’re one of the calves.” With a grunt, he tugged my back into his chest and crossed his arms around me like he was a straightjacket.

  I pushed against him once more, but it was useless. He had me.

  He had me in more ways than one. Even though I was upset, his embrace made my stomach spin and my head grow light, and the expert way he’d overcome me begged me to yield.

  Yes, he had me.

  “Are you done now?”

  I huffed but I’d given up struggling. With him, anyway. I was still struggling with myself. Still fighting against my wants.

  “Good,” he said, his breath skidding against my ear. Thank God my shirtsleeves were long and he couldn’t see the goose bumps on my arms.

  “Now,” he adjusted his grip, and I swore I felt his cock thickening at my ass. “Yes. I told her that I loved her. I told her I loved her but that things have changed.”

  Things had changed. Everything had changed when he said those words to her. And to tell me about it while he was hard against me? It was wickedly unfair.

  He was silent for a beat, as if he thought that what he’d said or how his body reacted to holding me should have some impact.

  When I didn’t respond, he let out a sigh of frustration and released his grip.

  I stumbled forward but managed to stay on my feet. It pissed me off as much that he’d let me go as that he’d restrained me in the first place. And it pissed me off that it pissed me off. I considered taking off again, but what would be the point?

  So I stayed put, my back to him, rubbing my wrists, red from how tightly he’d gripped them.

  “I told her I wasn’t the man I’d been when she left, Emily.” There was the barest hint of an appeal in his timbre. “And that she couldn’t walk back in here and expect things to be the same.”

  I threw back my head and swallowed down a sob. If that had been all he’d said, if he’d left out the part where he loved her, maybe she would have heard it how he meant it.

  But there’s something about that four-letter word that’s magical. It can erase everything else. So who could blame her for hearing only that? Who could blame me for noticing its absence when he spoke to me?

  I twisted to look at him. “What else?”

  He shook his head. “That was it. I didn’t say anything else.” His expression was unguarded. Open. It was maybe the most transparent he’d ever been with me, and even if his lips didn’t say it right then, his eyes urged me to remember he had, in his way, told me he’d loved me too. I could have been moved, if I’d let myself.

  But Amber had opened up to me today as well. Either I let her words move me, or his. It was like a tug-of-war with my sympathies. Who could pull harder on my heartstrings? I’d have to choose. And I didn’t want to choose between them.

  It was easier to just be pissed.

  “Well, congratulations,” I said, sarcasm spilling from my tongue. “You’ve sure created a mess, haven’t you.”

  His body tensed as he cocked his head at me. “How exactly do you figure that I’ve made a mess?”

  “You led her on!” Behind him, a couple of the ranchers watched our argument with interest.

  Reeve kept his focus directly on me, seemingly oblivious to everyone else. “I think I was pretty damn straightforward.”

  “Pretty damn straightforward would have been you telling her that you wanted me.” He should have been the one to decide. Not me. I couldn’t.

  I wouldn’t.

  “After you’d made it abundantly clear that you wanted to be the one who told her?” He threw his eyes toward the sky. “Jesus, Emily. I’m damned if I did and damned if I didn’t. There is no winning with you.”

  I didn’t have a comeback because he was right – there was no winning. Someone would lose, and I couldn’t stand that it might be my fault.

  Crossing my arms tightly over my chest, I pushed my voice past the knot in my throat. “Don’t you dare turn this around on me.”

  He took a step closer so that he was practically hovering over me. “Why not, Emily? Because you can’t handle your share of the blame? Because, just like always, you’d rather let things happen to you instead of taking any action so that you don’t have to accept responsibility for the consequences?”

  His words slaughtered me with their honesty. “That’s cruel.” My lip quivered with rage. I pointed an accusing finger in his direction. “That’s how you want me. To be submissive and obedient. Then, when I am, you use that to blame me for being passive?”

  His lip curled upward. “And that’s how you want me, now, isn’t it?”

  To his credit, he couldn’t hold his smile, as though he suspected he might have gone too far.

  But was it really too far? Or just too accurate? It was precisely why men like Reeve were so bad for me – because I wanted them to be bad for me. And, when they were, it hurt.

  Funny how then I wanted them even more.

  “No,” I said, making a decision, for once, on my own. The only one I could. “I don’t want any of this. This is over.”

  “This is not over,” he said, but I’d already turned away.

  He might have come after me again, except, right then, Parker drove up on one of the three-wheelers, the expression on his face clearly upset.

  Reeve’s eyes darted from me to hi
s stable manager, as if trying to choose which of us to deal with. Finally, he said, “We are not done talking about this, Emily,” then turned to Parker. “What is it?”

  “You’re needed back at the house.” He glanced at me and I could sense he was unsure whether he should say more in front of me.

  Immediately, I feared the worst. “Is it Amber?”

  Reeve arched a brow, seconding my question.

  “I’m not sure. Come with me and you’ll see.”

  It was vague, but the little bit he’d shared combined with his anxious demeanor was enough to send chills down my spine. It was also enough to get Reeve moving. He jogged to one of the ATVs parked at the side of the corral. I turned back to Parker to ask for a ride, but he was already driving off toward the house.

  Dammit. I’d have to hike back, another fifteen-minute walk.

  But then Reeve pulled up beside me. He didn’t meet my eyes. “Coming?”

  I climbed on behind him, too worried about Amber to care that I’d just told him we were over. I’d meant it in the moment. But I wasn’t so sure when my arms were wrapped around him, my body pressed tight against his solid frame. Wasn’t so sure I could ever be over him.

  We followed on Parker’s tail to the shed, where I assumed we were parking the ATVs. But he pulled up short instead of driving all the way in. That was when I noticed the security guard standing by the open door, looking as though there were something of interest on the other side.

  I hopped off as soon as Reeve cut the engine, but I let him take the lead, following two steps behind as he circled the open door. He halted suddenly, and I had to step to his side to see around him.

  Joe was there, kneeling on the ground. A second security guard was at his side, and, between them, lay Jenkins. Vomit pooled around his mouth, and his eye was lifeless and glassy like a marble, and it only took me a second to realize he was dead.

  But I wasn’t a squeamish woman, and it wasn’t his limp body that made me gasp. It was the word painted on his side in large red letters: MINE.

  There was something utterly menacing about the image, and not just because the dog was dead. I had a feeling the word would have had the same impact if the dog had still been alive, and I found myself wondering if Jenkins’s death was meant to be a message as well or if it was just easier to apply paint to an animal that couldn’t move.

  And if death was the message…

  I shivered and casually took a step closer to Reeve. Whether we were together or not, I felt safety in his presence. Ironic, considering how often he scared the hell out of me.

  “Time of death had to be recent,” Joe said, delivering his report to Reeve, and, unless I was imagining things, avoiding all eye contact with me. “The body’s still warm.”

  “Antifreeze?” Reeve asked.

  “That usually takes a couple of days to affect the kidneys. Chloroform, maybe?”

  Though he was trying to mask it, Parker seemed sullen. “He was completely fine when I fed him at dawn.”

  I’d forgotten that he’d taken an interest in Jenkins. Working on a ranch, Parker was surely used to dealing with animal deaths. He must have felt particularly close to this dog to be upset.

  Honestly, I felt a bit unsettled as well, especially with all the other emotions festering inside me. It had happened so fast, too. “I just saw him about ninety minutes ago.”

  The second security guard, the one sitting with Joe, stood and addressed me. “Was he acting strange then? Did he seem thirsty or was he convulsing at all?”

  I tried to remember if I’d seen anything unusual. “I don’t know. I was too far away, but I’m pretty sure his fur hadn’t been painted then. Amber was with him. I think she would have said something if he was acting out of the ordinary.”

  “Actually,” I added, feeling oddly like I was about to get Amber in trouble, “someone else was there with her. Buddy is the only name I know. I think he’s one of the Callahan men.” There was still nothing to validate the creepy feeling Buddy gave me, but my gut sure felt like he was capable of murdering helpless animals.

  Reeve and Parker exchanged glances. “What was anyone even doing up here on branding day?” Parker asked his boss. “I said it seemed suspicious how there were so many new guys this year. You thought I was being paranoid.”

  “Let’s not make any rash conclusions. There are ways to get on the land back here without passing through the front gates. This could have been anyone.” Reeve said “anyone” as if he might mean someone in particular. Someone who wasn’t on the ranch at all.

  He gestured at the graffiti on Jenkins’s body. “Even if this Buddy person did this, he’s not the one behind it.”

  The hair stood up on the back of my neck, and I had that eerie feeling of being watched.

  Reeve nodded to one of the guards, who then pulled out his cell phone and made a call. “Yeah,” he said, not bothering to step away, “we need a deeper investigation of everyone on the Callahan crew list, particularly someone named Buddy. That’s the only name I’ve got, obviously it might be a nickname. Also, all recording equipment that has a view of the shed and the yard around it needs to be pulled and watched starting around noon. If you see the dog in any of the footage, mark that.”

  “The only cameras we have focused out here are on the shed itself,” Parker said, shifting his jaw like he wished he had snuff tucked in his cheek. “We don’t have anything watching the trees beyond.”

  Reeve’s expression remained stoic. “We could get lucky. Security footage will at least rule out some possibilities.”

  Parker scratched behind his neck, then turned his whole body toward Reeve. “It’s him, isn’t it?” He didn’t leave any chance for response, apparently confident in the him he guessed was responsible. “What do you think he means by ‘MINE’? The land? Is he trying to stake some claim to Kaya?”

  Reeve shook his head and I suspected it meant he didn’t know rather than a firm no. He was still studying the animal on the ground. “Have you turned the dog over?”

  “Right,” Joe agreed. “We need to see if there’s more.” He grabbed Jenkins’s front paws while Parker took his hind legs and together they flipped the dog to his other side.

  As Reeve must have guessed, there was painting on this side of his body, too – SHES.

  “Shes?” Parker pronounced the word with a short e vowel.

  “It’s missing the apostrophe,” Joe explained as he stood, wiping his hands on his pants.

  “She’s mine,” Reeve said quietly, putting the words together.

  Parker squinted up toward Reeve. “But who’s ‘she’?”

  Before anyone had a chance to speculate, another voice piped in behind us. “Me.”

  We spun in unison to see that Amber had joined us, her arrival unnoticed.

  “It’s me,” she repeated, a distinct tremor in her voice. “It’s from Micha, and he means me.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Reeve’s eyes hit me the minute I walked in Amber’s room, knocking the wind out of my lungs. I pretended I was just out of breath from running up the stairs to get there, but the truth was I’d taken my time.

  While Amber had been fairly composed when she’d first arrived at the scene of the dead dog, it didn’t take long before she’d worked herself up to hysterics. Both Reeve and Joe had tried to calm her, to no avail. Eventually, after summoning for Jeb to meet him in her room, Reeve had swept Amber in his arms and carried her inside.

  Joe had followed without a glance in my direction, essentially confirming my suspicion that he was avoiding me.

  I’d lingered behind, feigning interest in the guard’s investigation as they took pictures and looked for more clues around the shed. Mostly I hadn’t wanted to be with Reeve as he attended to Amber. I hadn’t thought I could stand it if he ignored me while caring for her.

  I hadn’t realized that his attention would be just as unbearable.

  Amber didn’t seem to notice my appearance with her face buried in Reeve�
��s chest. She lifted her head. “He said he would find me if I ever left. He says that to all the women.”

  It was the same thing she’d said outside. She’d been repeating variations of it for the better part of the last hour, and every new rendition gutted me.

  Reeve sat with her on the bed, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, but he kept his gaze locked on me. “He’s not going to get you here.”

  His intense stare made my focus shift so that he was front and center in my vision, and everything else around him blurred and lost context. Yet, even though I refused to see his hand drawing soothing strokes up and down her arm, I could feel it. As sure as if it were my body he was caressing. Except that, instead of making it buzz with butterflies, my stomach curled. And instead of wishing it would last forever, I prayed that it would just end.

  Jeb, who’d been at the dresser filling a syringe, turned toward the bed now. “Amber, can you give me your arm?”

  Though she seemed barely aware of anything but the man holding her, she turned up her forearm, exposing it toward Jeb.

  “This will make you rest a while,” Jeb said as he emptied the medicine into Amber’s arm. “So you can relax.”

  She nodded obligingly. Then she sat up with an anxious start. “He marked me, Reeve. He thinks I’m his! He’s coming after me! He’s warning me!”

  “He’s warning me.” Finally Reeve moved his eyes to her, and my entire body sagged as though I’d been relieved of a heavy weight. “And I don’t take warnings lightly.”

  Already I missed the burden of his stare.

  “You have to keep me safe. You can’t let him get to me.” Amber’s pitch crept higher and it was impossible not to feel worked up with her. For her. My skin itched with agitation, and I kept shaking my arms, thinking I’d find something crawling on them but never did.

  And Reeve – his expression was stoic and his voice even, but behind his eyes I saw a glimmer of helplessness. “I’ll organize shifts again,” he said, and in that moment I was glad he was there for her, no matter how torn up with jealousy it made me. “You won’t ever be alone.”