by Bella Street
She caught her breath and stared at him as she opened the door wider, sure this was another dream.
The sunken eyes and gaunt face hardly resembled her husband and his torn shirt was covered in blood.
She reached out to touch him, but hesitated.
Maybe if she made contact, he'd disappear.
Trent licked his dry lips and spoke with a ragged voice. “You don't have to be afraid anymore.”
Then he crumpled to the ground at her feet.
The force of his body bumping her legs convinced her this was real.
Oh God.
Adrenaline surged into her muscles as she hooked her hands under his arms and pulled him into the room. She closed the door and locked it, then sank onto the ground next to him, alarmed by his shallow breathing and bloodied state.
Seffy shoved up his shirt, expecting to find the gaping wounds that had caused the blood to soak through the fabric, but aside from a overly-defined ribcage, he was wound free.
With her first terror neutralized, she sobbed against his neck, grasping his body with all her strength, reveling in his yielding flesh and warmth. His arms slid weakly around her waist. She closed her eyes, hardly daring to believe he was back.
Suddenly his arms went slack and flopped to the floor.
Seffy sat up, wiping her eyes, and saw he'd lost consciousness.
Seeing his blood-soaked shirt meant...meant he might've hurt someone.
She cringed at the disloyal thought, but she couldn't think of another explanation. How else could he be in this condition? It was the worse case scenario—but it was what she had to work from. If he'd fallen into a puddle of red paint, well she'd laugh it off later.
Seffy ran her hands down his stubbly cheek, her heart torn between love and anxiety. Where had he gone? How had he returned to the compound? Did he leave a trail? And if someone was hurt—or worse—as she suspected, would the authorities be looking for him?
The realization galvanized her thoughts. Gently laying his head on the floor, she got to her feet and grabbed the chair. After putting it in the shower, she pulled clean clothes from his dresser. Next, she pushed and pulled Trent into a standing position. He blinked a few times, leaning heavily on her.
Seffy got him out of his clothes and onto the chair in the shower.
Fear distracted her from the fact that he was filthy and half-starved. The hot water forced him to remain awake though disoriented. His head bobbed weakly as she washed his hair and soaped his body. Dried blood reconstituted and swirled down the drain in watery red swirls.
Whose blood is it?
Seffy clamped her mind shut to the ramifications. All that mattered was getting Trent cleaned up and evidence free. She did find one small wound above his right ankle that looked to be infected, but doubted it had anything to do with his current state.
Once he was out of the shower, she helped him get dressed in his pajama bottoms. His clumsy movements hindered her, causing panic to course through her veins. What? Where? Why? How? looped through her mind in a gut-twisting litany.
Finally she got him to the bed where he tumbled onto the mattress and passed out.
Seffy changed into dry pajamas and blow-dried first her hair, then Trent's. Next she gathered up the dirty, bloody clothes and stuffed then into a plastic bag.
She grabbed the wet towel and mopped up the blood on the floor, then eased open the door.
Seeing that the hallway was clear, she mopped up the faint trail of dirty footprints and drops of blood until she'd gone well beyond their section.
Seffy raced back to her room, added the towel to the clothing bag, then stashed it in the attic from the access.
Pulling air into her aching lungs, she struggled to calm down, but her body shook like an addict in need of a fix.
She returned to the bed and looked down at Trent sprawled across her mattress.
If not for the strong pulse at the base of his throat, she would've thought he was dead.
She eased onto the bed and cradled his head in her lap. As she stroked his hair away from his face, Seffy wondered if she should call Olga. But what if the nurse was present when the authorities showed up? Were the authorities on his trail? Or was she just more paranoid than usual?
She leaned down and pressed a kiss on his cheek, savoring his warmth, finally comprehending that he was back in her arms. Tears dripped from her eyes onto his face. She brushed them away as he continued to sleep.
Seffy decided to wait until morning before calling Olga.
Right now, she just wanted this moment with her husband. She scooted out from under him and settled her head in the hollow of his shoulder.
Comforted by the steady rise and fall of his chest, she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, right where she belonged.
Chapter Fifteen
A sudden pounding on the door startled Seffy awake. She sat up, disoriented, and realized she was warm from Trent's body.
Oh, thank God. It wasn't a dream.
More pounding made her jump. It was four a.m. She'd barely been asleep an hour. Seffy disentangled herself and went to the door. “Who is it?”
“Security. Open up.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. That was fast. Too fast.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped out into the hall.
A compound security guard wearing a face shield looked past her at the sleeping form of Trent in the bed before regarding her nervously. Apparently he knew who she was. “We're responding to a report of an infiltration.”
Glancing down the hall, Seffy saw Gareth and the girls sleepily entering the hall after guards, also in face shields, knocked on their doors.
“What kind of infiltration?” she asked loudly, hoping to get her friends' attention. She was gratified to see their heads turn in unison toward her.
“Prowler or an animal, we're not sure. Have you noticed any strangers about? Anything unusual?”
“No, but maybe that's because I've been on my honeymoon.”
The guard made a face. “Would you please have your husband come to the door, ma'am?”
“Why? He hasn't seen anything either. And as you can see, he's still sleeping.”
A gasp reached her ears from down the hall. Seffy shot a look at Lani, sending her and the others a slight nod.
The guard peered over her shoulder. “Well, ask him when he wakes up if he has any information, will you?”
“Of course.” She cleared her throat. “So are you going to every residence in the compound?”
“Just the areas we believe may be affected since we followed his trail to this section.”
“How do you know it's a he?” she asked smiling helpfully. Then she thought of the stranger in pink velour and suppressed a shudder.
“Just let us know if you see or hear anything.” The man turned and joined the other guards. They huddled for a moment, comparing notes, then left the hallway.
Lani ran silently down the hallway, her frilly baby doll nightgown flying out behind her. “He's back?” she hissed.
Seffy nodded and stepped aside to let her see.
“Oh, I'm so thankful!”
“Me, too,” she whispered, fighting a new round of tears.
Lani touched her arm. “Call me when you can talk.”
“Okay.” She sent a tight smile to the others then went back into the room.
Leaning against the closed door, she exhaled a heavy breath and realized she'd had the right hunch about Trent.
Seffy pushed away from the door. She knew the guards wouldn't have done a room to room search for a perceived intruder. No, they knew something.
They knew what had been committed.
And she knew who did it.
***
Trent was still asleep at eight in the morning. Seffy decided not to wait any longer. She called Olga.
The nurse arrived, her usually composed expression giving way to wide eyes and twitching curiosity. The nurse asked questions about th
e state he'd been in when he returned while she checked his heart, lungs, and blood pressure.
Trent didn't stir.
Seffy gave the basic information, avoiding the whole covered-in-blood part.
Olga frowned down at him, putting away her stethoscope. “He's quite dehydrated so I'd like to get him on an I.V.”
“Okay. Will that help with his...hunger? I mean, he's skin and bones.”
“There'll be sugar in the solution, so it will help some. What would he like to eat? I can bring something from the kitchen.”
Seffy chewed on her lip, remembering the raw meat incident. “Well, he hasn't liked anything lately.”
“We'll start him on beef consommé then and when he's feeling better, I'm sure he'll let us know what he wants.”
“So, he's okay? Aside from the dehydration?”
Olga nodded and tucked her instruments into her bag. “But I'd like to get a blood sample just to be sure.”
“Can he stay here?”
“Yes, I think that's best.”
Seffy sniffed hard and blinked back tears. “Thank you.”
Olga touched her arm. “You must be so relieved he's back. Has he told you anything yet?”
She shook her head. “He's barely been conscious. And I'm guessing he's the one who had the guards at our door in the middle of the night. They were looking for an infiltrator.”
“Hmm, maybe Trent is doing a little better than I thought if he's wily enough to get past security.”
“Yeah,” Seffy said, smiling weakly. “Of course the security around here is more window dressing than an effective force.”
“Isn't that the truth,” Olga said, grimacing. She went through her bag. “I'll take the sample now while he's asleep.” Olga pulled out a syringe and gloves and went to work. Trent barely flinched when she slid the needle into his vein. Seffy watched with morbid fascination as the vial filled with the dark fluid. A moment later, the nurse was done, tucking the vial into her bag and stripping off her gloves.
“Well, you sit with your husband and I'll be back soon.”
“Thanks Olga.”
As the nurse left, Seffy crawled onto the bed with Trent and huddled next to him.
She wondered what he was dreaming of. Had he missed her as much as she'd missed him? She leaned close and pressed a kiss against his lips, thankful, so thankful to have him near again.
***
He could smell it. It surrounded him—he was wallowing in it. But he couldn't find it. He began to whimper as saliva poured off his tongue. Lifting his nose in the air, he loped in nervous circles, panting, whining. It was close, so close. He could taste it. His middle clenched in anticipation. It had been so long. A frustrated howl escaped him, though he knew he shouldn't give away his presence.
He was just so damn hungry.
Trent's eyes snapped open. His surroundings confused him. Instead of sky and stars he saw rough texture and...a light. But not the sun. The anemic glow from the ceiling light fixture finally brought him to the present.
That and the smell of warm, supple human flesh next to him.
Trent turned and saw Seffy, asleep, her brow furrowed, the sheet wadded in her fist. He leaned close to her throat to inhale her scent, allowing his nose to lightly skim her heated skin. He could smell and hear her blood pulsing in her veins, but a chemical fruit odor made him wince.
Rubbing his face in frustration, he sat up and looked around the room. Slowly he realized he was back. Back from—
Heart hammering, he looked down at himself. Where was the blood?
Sliding from the bed and scanning the room, he saw nothing—nothing that would disprove what he experienced was just a nightmare. He closed his eyes, tipping his head back as the disjointed memories flashed intermittently through his brain—hot, rabid, and loud. His breath came fast but he forced himself to calm down.
It hadn't been real.
Trent scratched his neck, then his chest and arms. Suddenly his body felt like it was crawling with something that writhed under his skin. He decided to take a shower, hoping it would wash away whatever plagued him. But when he went in the bathroom, he smelled it.
Blood. And not his own.
Oh, hell.
***
Seffy awoke to the sound of running water. She rolled over in bed and when she felt only an empty space next to her, panic ballooned within her. Had she only dreamed of Trent's return? She heaved herself to a sitting position and cocked her ear. Or was he in the shower?
The water was shut off, and a few moments later, he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, with a towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets clung to his skin—skin stretched taut over bone and sinew. He stopped when he saw she was awake.
Seffy's pulse pounded as he regarded her without expression. She moistened her lips. “Another shower?”
He frowned. “What?”
She looked away for a moment, feeling uncertain of herself. “Last night, when you came back, I helped you take a shower.”
Trent's frown deepened. “I don't remember that.”
“You were pretty out of it.”
His eyes narrowed as he walked over and sat down on the bed next to her.
Anxiety unfurled within, but Seffy was at a loss to explain why. All that mattered now sat mere inches away. She felt his body heat but inexplicably refrained from touching him. “Where did you go? I was so worried.” She bit her lip to stop a cry from escaping. “I was so lost without you.”
“I already told you.” Trent reached out and ran his fingers down her arm. While his touch was gentle, his gaze was implacable steel.
“You did? I mean, all you said was that I didn't have to be afraid any more.”
“Isn't it obvious?”
Her heart tripped over itself as she shook her head. The last person I was afraid of was you.
“That mayor, the pervert who abused you. You won't need to worry about him ever again.”
Trent's cool tone chilled her. “What? You found him?”
He nodded.
“And you...?” She caught her breath. “The blood on your shirt was...his?”
“Yes.” He tipped his head down, his expression fierce. “I remember how you looked when you first told me—how just speaking the words made you look older than your years. He deserved to die. And Sef, you weren't the first victim.”
Seffy pressed a shuddering hand to her mouth. Trent killed a man in cold blood? Oh, God. No wonder security was involved. Their search was probably at the behest of the county sheriff. Her mind spun with the ramifications. “How—?”
“It wasn't pleasant,” he said in a voice devoid of emotion.
“I mean, how did you find him? How did you get to him? Fenn said we can't go past the time constraint boundary thing...” God, she was babbling. Any minute she'd sink into hysteria.
“Fenn's right. There was a limit to how far I could go. So I got him to come to me.”
“How?” Why did she keep asking the question? She didn't really want to know the answer.
“Let's just say I presented an offer he couldn't refuse.”
Seffy grabbed his hand, clenching it convulsively. “Trent, security was looking for someone last night—going from room to room. They were looking for you.”
One side of his mouth lifted. “Don't worry. They'll never trace it back to me. They'll think it's the wild animal that's been on the loose.”
She swallowed back rising panic. “That animal was shot and killed days ago.”
Trent shrugged, his face expressionless. He ran his hand down the side of her neck. “I missed you.”
Seffy closed her eyes briefly, absorbing his touch. The longing that had plagued her for three days was finally at an end. And giving in to the notion that something wasn't right with Trent was damn ungrateful. He was here, alive, within reach. Why couldn't she ignore the trepidation poisoning her relief?
Trent tugged her close, whispering kisses along her jaw, pressing his fac
e into the curve of her throat, inhaling deeply.
He shifted his weight and pushed her onto her back, then crawled over her body. She stared up at him, frustrated by her indecision. When he wrapped his fingers around her wrists, pinning her to the mattress, and lowered his mouth to hers, Seffy yielded to his kiss for the space of a heartbeat. Then she twisted her head away.
“What's the matter?” His voice was almost a growl, making goose bumps form over her skin.
“Trent, don't you remember what happened before you left?”
He scowled. “What are you talking about?”
“After I found you in the cafeteria. You...chased me.”
His gaze was flat, uninterested.
She forced a note of calm into her voice. “Why?”
“Because you ran.”
Seffy sucked in a breath. “Let go of me.”
His unblinking stare was his only response.
“Trent, I need to know what's going on. You terrified me, you threw me to the ground.”
Something flickered in his eyes and his brows drew together. “Were you hurt?”
“Yes.”
“I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry.”
She swallowed hard, pushing the words past her throat. “What's changed? How can I be sure you won't do that again?”
“Seffy, I would never hurt you.”
“But you did.”
“Then it was an accident.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her with his lips. His kiss was aggressive at first, but quickly gentled into a beguiling perusal of her mouth. Languorous desire began to eclipse her worries as his head dipped lower, grazing her chin, neck, nuzzling her breasts.
Seffy closed her eyes, pressing her head back into the blankets, making the choice to ignore her fears. She'd yearned for him for too long to reject his touch.
When he claimed her body with his own, she held onto him like a drowning victim, desperately hoping he was her life preserver and not the thing pulling her down into the icy depths.