by Dale Mayer
I know, Stefan said quietly. Go back to the cabin, check up on her.
“What do you think of what he said?”
I think we need to look into her history more.
“I thought that was already in progress.”
It is, but we haven’t gotten very far, he said. I’ll call Grant and see if we can get something a whole lot more in-depth. I’ll call you later, once I know more. And, with that, Stefan was gone too.
Tired, worn out, frustrated, and beyond angry at himself for having lost Peter, Hunter headed back to the cabin. As he stepped into the kitchen, he heard the shower water running. Had she gone and taken a shower, so nonchalant over the entire thing?
He couldn’t forget what the stranger had said—that she was such a danger to herself and to others. Hunter didn’t know if he believed that or not, but Peter obviously had skills Hunter hadn’t seen before either. Troubling, in many ways. So much was out there that even Stefan didn’t know how to deal with, and there was no training, no dictionary defining these abilities. Literally nothing. All very frustrating. Finally he put on the teakettle and stared out into the darkness, while he waited for the water to heat up. He’d rather have something much darker, but he didn’t trust himself at the moment. Too many things to sort out.
When he heard movement behind him, he didn’t turn around.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
And that was the last thing he’d expected to hear. He turned slowly to look at her. “Why?”
“Why what?” she said. “Why am I sorry, or why did he show up?”
“We know why he showed up,” he said, with a half snort. “Why are you sorry?”
“Because my ugly past is coming back to make your life hell. You should just let it go.”
“Sure,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m supposed to just let him take you away?”
She winced at that. “Well, I hope you don’t do that,” she murmured. “But I also don’t know in what way I can make this all go away.”
“Well, you haven’t managed to make it go away in the years that you’ve been on the run,” he said. “I sure would love to know how they found you though.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I thought I was free and clear. Honestly I didn’t see any reason why they would continue to come after me.”
“And yet, even now, he won’t let it go.”
“Why?” she cried out. “I don’t get it.”
“Neither do I,” he said, “but we’ll have to find out.”
She shook her head. “Then again, it’s not something I’ve managed to find out in all these years, so what’ll give us the advantage now?”
“Good question,” he said. “We’ll have to go into your past a little more.”
“What past?” she said. “I don’t have a past. Remember?”
So much bitterness was in her voice, so much honesty and pain, that he knew she couldn’t be faking it. “I get that,” he said, “and I’m sorry for you because this is way more trauma than anybody should have to go through.”
“Yet it still doesn’t change anything,” she said, with a sigh.
“No, it doesn’t. Yet maybe in some ways it does,” he said.
“You’re talking in riddles, and I’m too damn tired,” she said. “I had a shower, and I’m somewhat warmed up. I only came down to say, Good night,” she said, “and to say, Thank you.”
“Thank me for what?”
“For looking after me again,” she said boldly.
“I don’t know how much looking after you that I did,” he said, “since the guy got away.”
“I expected him to, honestly. I think he’s spent a lifetime figuring out how to blend into shadows. I just don’t know if he’ll come back tonight or not.”
“Well, he knows where we are, so he might. He also was looking for his vehicle.”
“He stole it anyway,” she murmured. “Always his modus operandi, if I remember correctly.”
“If you even remember that much, it might be a help,” he murmured. “I mean, it seems like everything is up in the air as to what you remember and what you don’t.”
“Honestly, I don’t want to remember anything that he’s talking about. Part of me is terrified that I was such a bad person that I was killing people.”
“Do you feel like you were ever a killer?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t, but I also don’t know what I might have done when I was desperate to get away from them.”
“True,” he murmured. “That’s one of those things that is hard to know. Life is not the easiest at any time, and we can all be pressured into doing things we don’t want to do in order to get away.”
She shook her head. “How is this even allowed?” she said. “How is it that people like this even get to exist?”
“Well, outside of the fact that you told me to go ahead and kill him tonight,” he said humorously, “it’s because we are a civilized society, where people like that get to exist until enough evidence is found to take them down.”
She blew out a breath, a strand of drying hair flying off her forehead. “And I should apologize for that,” she murmured. “The whole killing-him thing. In the heat of the moment, all I could think of was our safety and what we needed to do to get away.”
“Oh, I understand,” he said, “believe me, but killing in the heat of the moment is not the same as self-defense. I half-expected him to go for my throat again,” he murmured, “but instead he took off.”
“And I also think that,” she said, “because he doesn’t want to hurt me and because he wants to take me back to wherever,” she said, “I don’t know if he would hurt you right now, since you are protecting me. Or he could be of the opinion that you’re more of a help because of the fact that you’re here looking after me, and maybe I would be more cooperative if he kept you alive.”
“Which implies that he’s looking to take me prisoner and to use me against you.”
“And he might,” she said, with a shrug, “I don’t know. I just know that he’s obviously got an agenda that we aren’t privy to.”
“Very true,” he said, “and people like that are dangerous.”
“And, like you said, we’re all dangerous given the right circumstances.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “You’re pretty good at twisting words around.”
“I don’t want to be good at twisting words around,” she said, with a half laugh. “I just want to be left alone in peace and quiet to live my life. I don’t want to keep looking over my shoulder, and I don’t want to be afraid of making friends that will end up like Sugar Mama.”
“Sugar Mama. I still don’t have a guaranteed answer for you there,” he said. “I didn’t get an answer out of this guy either. He said you’re to blame for her death. You got too close to her. He couldn’t take the chance of you having told her anything about the work you did.”
“Well, I didn’t,” she cried in outrage. “He didn’t have to hurt her. She wasn’t a part of this in any way.”
“I wish he’d been clearer but everybody seems to talk in riddles when it comes to this crap.”
“Because nobody ever wants to get caught,” she murmured.
“Absolutely. It doesn’t change anything though.”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind going to bed now, if you don’t mind. It’s hard enough to get any restorative sleep as it is.”
“Go,” he said. “Get some sleep. You’ll need it.” She hesitated. He said, “Go on. I’ll stand watch.”
“The trouble is,” she said, “even if you do stand watch, then what?”
“Hopefully,” he said, “by then, we’ll be in a position of getting free of him.”
“Maybe,” she murmured. “At least it’s something worth trying for.”
“And remember,” he said. “The bottom line is that he doesn’t seem to want to hurt you.”
She was at the point of walking out of the kitchen, N
octurne following along as silent as ever. She stopped, turned, looked at him, and said, “He doesn’t want to kill me,” she corrected, her voice a mere whisper. “That’s very different than not wanting to hurt me.” And, with that, she left the kitchen.
Chapter 27
In her room, Beth curled up on her bed, her knees to her chest, and rocked gently on the bed. Her mind was a kaleidoscope of emotions—everything from fear to pain to terror to feelings. She didn’t want or even know how to deal with Hunter. Sugar Mama had left nothing secret about her relationships with men, to the point that random sex seemed normal. Beth had tried a few relationships herself. Even sex. But outside of sweat, awkwardness, and pain, definitely not the glorious feelings that books or indeed Sugar Mama had promised. Beth had been left disappointed and even embarrassed.
And now she wondered if the partner made the difference.
As in Hunter.
She couldn’t imagine feeling the same way with him but wasn’t at all sure, particularly in her condition.
Peter both terrified and reassured her. Terrified her that he was somewhat recognizable and yet reassured her for the same reason. Maybe some of her memories were intact. But was that a good thing? Should she remember, as Lizzy kept telling her?
Or live in the moment and try to find a way forward? And then, what about Hunter? Was he part of her way forward, or should he become something in her past? She was conflicted. Emotions overwhelmed in both pro and con forms. She and Hunter were connected by their very actions, their very talents.
That something pulled at her, toward him of all things, which made her distrust him. And yet why? Other than she distrusted everyone.
But was that fair? And, if not, then why always look for a reason to get away from him?
Because, in truth, she wanted to go toward him—and was terrified of it.
That in itself made her angry.
“Beth? Are you okay?”
The words, the knock on her door, startled her. “Go away. … I’m fine.” She added the last as an afterthought, so he wouldn’t keep bugging her.
“You’re not fine.”
“Ha, what do you know?” she muttered. The door opened, and he stepped into the room, his gaze intent. She glared back.
“How are your energy levels?”
She wrapped her arms tighter around Nocturne. “Getting better.” That was only a tiny lie. But he knew anyway. She upped the wattage of her glare. “I said, I’m fine.”
“Just prickly.”
What could she say to that? She was always this way. “I’m just being me.”
“You are. And mostly to force everyone to keep their distance.”
She glared at him. “Your point?”
He took another step closer, and a sudden heat filled her. “I don’t want to always be pushed away.”
“It’s best,” she murmured. “I’m not whole. We don’t know each other that well. There are a million reasons to stay away from each other.”
“You might never be more whole than you are now. Will you always be alone? And we can always put issues between us. Do you want that too?”
“Yes,” she snapped. “It’s better.”
He took a step backward. Then stopped. Then, as if making a decision, he moved forward and sat down on the bed beside her. “You don’t have to be alone. I know you don’t know who to trust. Who to listen to. But a lot of that comes with experience.”
“Something I have no firsthand knowledge of,” she muttered.
He opened his arms, whispering, “I’m not the enemy.”
He might not be the enemy, but he was damn dangerous. She leaned ever-so-faintly in the direction of the promise of his warmth. She desperately wanted to be held, even for a moment. To let down her guard and to relax and to know everything would be okay. If only for a moment.
“You need rest.”
“Something I don’t get much of.” She felt herself leaning closer and closer. His arms closed gently around her.
“Let your guard down once,” he murmured. “You’re safe.”
“Am I?” she murmured, snuggling in closer. “I feel safe, but, like so much of my life, the feeling has no depth. As if it’s a fleeting sensation and no more.”
“You need to sink into it. Accept it as a possibility, before you dismiss it out of hand. I know much of this is out of the norm for you. But that doesn’t make it wrong.”
She tilted her head to look up at him. “Even being held like this is foreign.”
“Because it requires trust.” His voice was soft, gentle. A warmth that she’d never seen before was in his gaze. She desperately wanted to fully feel again.
He kissed her temple. “It’s terrible to always be alone. It’s not necessary.”
“Are you seducing me?” She was curious to know what was going on, as she had had very little experience with men. At the same time she hoped he was. She wanted to know what that felt like. What a kiss from him would make her feel. And more. Warnings appeared in the back of her mind, but she was desperate to ignore them.
A low chuckle whispered against her ear, as he dropped yet another kiss on her forehead, then on her temple and finally on her cheek. “And if I am seducing you?”
“Well, I’m definitely interested.” Nocturne let out a yowl and slunk away. She laughed.
He paused and eyed her carefully.
It was her turn to chuckle. “I surprised you, didn’t I?”
“Very much so.”
She twisted so she could sit a little higher and reached up, repeating his movements, and kissed him on the cheek. He stilled. She kissed him on the chin. Then stretching higher, she kissed him on the temple. When his gaze locked on hers, she sank against his chest and murmured, “Kiss me.”
He lowered his head, his lips a hair’s breadth from hers … and waited.
She moaned lightly and stretched up and closed the distance, crushing his mouth with hers. His response was immediate; his arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against his chest. She could barely breathe, and it had nothing to do with the crush of his arms, as she was frantic to get closer. He collapsed against her bed, pulling her with him. His mouth sultry, his kisses deep, he brought up depths of emotions she’d never felt before. Had no clue were even possible. A searing heat, a tension, coiled inside her, almost a pain from a need so dark and so frantic that she climbed his frame to assuage it.
“Easy,” he murmured. “Take it easy.”
She whimpered.
He kissed her gently, his tongue stroked her puffy lips. “It’s all right.”
“Is it?” she asked, her voice soft, her neck reaching up for more of his touch. “It doesn’t feel that way. I feel needy, desperate. Like a hunger that won’t quit.”
“I’ll fix it.” He lowered his head yet again.
*
Beth had no idea her energy was flaring, spitting out bits and pieces of herself, as she slowly unraveled in his arms. He’d wanted this from the first moment he had met her, had hoped she’d feel the same way—eventually. This timing likely wasn’t fair, as she was a mess. But not of her own doing. And he wanted her badly. Felt like he always had.
Was it too much to ask for one night? At least one night to start. He would prefer a lifetime, but she needed to heal before she could fully make that decision. He just needed to be at her side long enough for her to want the same things, that she’d see him as a partner, a friend, a lover. And never as the enemy.
He shifted, so he could pull his shirt up and over his head—letting out a roar as she reached up and pinched his nipples. As he came back down, she struggled to take off her clothes. He quickly helped divest her of the little she had on and kicked off his shoes, shucking off his jeans, underwear, and socks all at once. When he turned to look at her, she was smiling at him. A real heartwarming smile of welcome, with her arms open.
He fell into them, taking her into his embrace, determined to make their time together something she’d never forget.
<
br /> But all his sense of control was ripped away by her passion, as she rose to give as good as he gave, just as determined to make it a time he’d never forget. He barely had a chance to explore her exquisite body, to kiss the many scars that broke his heart, or to leisurely bring her passion to a slow burn, when she flipped him over and took him in her hands, then in her mouth, he was undone.
Now flipping her over, as he surged into her, she gasped and stilled, let out a cry. Then flipped him once again and rode him as a stallion rode a favorite mare. When he couldn’t handle it anymore, he grabbed her hips and surged up again and again. He couldn’t hold on, … but he had to, … the need building. … He broke out in a sweat, his body shuddering, as it drove to an end he was trying to hold off.
Beth arched backward and screamed, as her climax ripped through her.
With one final plunge, his orgasm exploded inside her.
Chapter 28
When Beth woke the next morning, she was surprised to find the sunlight shining in through the bedroom window. She’d slept surprisingly well, considering. She lay here for a long moment, assessing her body and energy. She was still weak but better. And sometime in the night Nocturne had returned to curl up against her side. She gently stroked his soft fur as considered how she felt.
Sated. Happy. Achy, but also warm and glowing on the inside.
Fascinated that she had somehow survived the night—no, more than survived, … thrived—made her want to find him and do it all over again.
She got to her feet, dressed, and headed to the kitchen. The unexpected visitor last night had kept her on her toes, and even now she suspected the stolen truck was still parked nearby. Just in case it wasn’t this morning, she had retrieved Peter’s backpack and had stowed it in the cabin. She hadn’t even looked at the rest of what was in the backpack. She put on coffee, took the backpack, and dumped the contents onto the kitchen table. She wasn’t sure where Hunter was but knew he wouldn’t be too far away.
She sorted through everything in the backpack, an accumulation of bits and pieces—a wallet with some cash, and she certainly wasn’t against using that. Man, she had certainly lost enough herself. There were several IDs, likely one he had taken from the truck he had recently stolen as well. She laid the three IDs, all of different males, off to one side and sorted through the rest. Found a small black book. As soon as she saw that, she snatched it up. “What the hell is this?” she murmured, as she flipped through it.