Every Second In His Arms (Escape to the Bitterroot Mountains series, #3)

by Debra Kayn

  "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

  "It's what I need to do." She faced him. "Mom's already packed our bags."

  Of all the things he thought he'd deal with that morning, having Carly whip out of his life as fast as she'd walked onto Discover the Bitterroot property and demanded he take her to Bear Peak wasn't one of them.

  "I can take you," he said.

  "I'll take my car. It'll probably be good to drive it since I haven't even started the engine since..." She couldn't quite meet his eyes. "Well, you know."

  "If that's what you want."

  She walked to the door and stopped, turning around and facing him. "I'm sorry."

  His throat closed. He couldn't answer her. She had nothing to apologize for.

  Twenty minutes later, Carly pulled away in her car with her mom in the passenger seat. He stood outside, wondering how he was going to fix the problem of Carly leaving and doubting if it was even possible. Maybe she had a right to get away, make a life for herself away from all the reminders of what her father had done.

  She was young. There were a lot of things to experience in her life. Unlike him, who only wanted to wake up each morning knowing he was going to live another day.

  He owned a business. He had his home. He possessed a past that would always stay buried.

  She deserved more.

  Then, why was he ready to grab his ATV, ride over the peak, and demand she get her ass back to the bunker?

  He turned around and walked into the house before he did something he regretted. Locking the main door, he went into the bunker and collapsed on the bed. Several minutes later, he got back up and turned on the security monitor, making sure it was loud enough to wake him if someone showed up.

  Old habits were hard to break.

  Chapter 38

  The muffled scream from inside the cabin jolted Carly from her spot on the porch. She hurried inside. The wide-eyed panic of her mom searching the room from the bed a regular occurrence since she'd shot Carly's father.

  "It's okay." Carly sat down on the edge of the mattress and gathered her mom's hand. "You were dreaming."

  More like a nightmare during the day.

  "How would you like a cup of coffee and we can sit out on the porch for a while?" She pressed her cheek into her mom's palm. "I was just out there and could hear the music softly coming from Anders' Lair. You might like it."

  Her mom's gaze softened, and she leaned over and kissed Carly's cheek. "I'm sorry, darling."

  "There's no reason to be sorry." Her lack of patience softened.

  It was understandable that her mom was having a hard time dealing with life at the moment. Even on a good day, her struggles had always seemed harder for her than most people. Over the last week, she often wondered if her mom would have the strength to survive the aftermath of shooting and killing the man she'd lived with for twenty-five years.

  "I'll fix you a cup and a snack. We can stay inside and—"

  "No, I'll go out on the porch with you." Her mom's attempt at a smile made Carly want to cry.

  She stood and walked over to the mini kitchen and poured a cup of cold coffee to put in the microwave to heat it up. It hadn't taken much for her to break out in tears lately, either.

  Her new reality was hard to grasp. She wavered between disbelief, horror, and guilt. Guilt that she was glad her father was dead. Horror that she witnessed his evil side and a cold truth that everything she'd read and heard about him had happened. Disbelief that she was living someone else's life.

  The microwave beeped. She removed the hot mug, added sugar, and carried the drink over to her mom in the hope that it would keep her awake for longer. She'd been sleeping continually all week until the dreams woke her up.

  After getting her mom settled on the porch, Carly sat beside her on the swing and used the toe of her shoe to set them gently swinging.

  "Iliana sings on the weekends, I think. We'll be able to hear her from here. That'll be nice. She has such a unique raspy voice, doesn't she?" said Carly.

  "She's a nice young lady." Her mom added her feet into keeping the swing going. "I enjoyed spending time with her and Anders. They were both more than welcoming to me, even though they didn't know me."

  Carly hung on to the positive. If her mother enjoyed staying at the Lair around Anders, she hoped in time she'd be as accepting to Mark and Quint, too.

  Good relationships would see her through the rough times and support her in not feeling so alone. They all had similar backgrounds, and it all centered around the abuse and crimes of her father.

  Carly blinked rapidly, tears coming to her eyes. She missed Mark and wondered how he was doing. There wasn't a minute of the day or night that she didn't want his arms around her.

  Last night, she'd hit her lowest point. Her mother had gone back to sleep after screaming in her dreams. The wind howled against the windows. The sight of her father's dead eyes stared straight through her every time she tried to sleep. Then, she obsessed over Mark, alone in his bunker, and she wanted to be with him.

  Selfishly, she wanted Mark to stop her heart from breaking into a million pieces.

  The back door of the Lair opened, the light from inside created a silhouette of a woman stepping outside. From her previous stay, Carly knew the employees would slip out the back to have a cigarette during their break.

  Except, the person kept walking toward the cabin. Her mom stilled the swing. Carly patted her mother's thigh, reminding her that they were safe and they were close enough to the door of the cabin they could go inside if any of the guests at the Lair bothered them.

  "Carly? Evie? It's me, Iliana." The figure grew closer. "I brought something with me that I thought might help you pass the time."

  Carly stood, finally seeing Iliana in the darkness. "It's okay. We've been sitting outside, enjoying the evening."

  Iliana stopped and held up a guitar. "I brought one of the old acoustic guitars that I don't use anymore for Evie. I thought you might get more use out of it than I do. I know you enjoyed playing while you stayed with us."

  "How thoughtful." Carly leaned over the railing and took the gift, handing it to her mom. "Thank you."

  Evie plucked the strings lightly. "I don't know why you'd be so nice to me."

  "I do know." Iliana stepped closer. "It's because we think of you and Carly as family."

  Carly's throat spasmed, and she looked up to the second floor of the Lair and could see Anders silhouetted in the window with the light on behind him. Positive that he stood there watching Iliana, looking out for her safety while giving her the freedom to contact Evie alone, respecting Carly's mom's need to have space from everyone involved, squeezed her heart.

  She missed Mark. She wanted him watching out for her. She wanted him waiting for her to come back home.

  "I'll let you two enjoy the rest of your night." Iliana stepped back and stopped. "Oh, I put two picks under the strings."

  "Thank you," said Carly softly, full of emotions.

  Iliana waved and hurried across the parking lot and slipped through the back door. Carly returned to the swing and sat. Too shook up from the massive display of acceptance from Mark's friends, she leaned against her mom's shoulder and set to swinging.

  Several minutes later, Evie strummed her finger over the strings of the guitar. The low note plucked the already tight strings of Carly's heart. She squeezed her eyes shut but was unable to keep the sobs from beating her body.

  Evie put the guitar to the side of her and gathered Carly in her arms. She soaked in the mumbled comfort words, the hair strokes, the motion of the swing, and let her mom take care of her.

  Time no longer existed. The world all around them faded. If she could've crawled up in her mom's lap and cried for all the years the motherly support had been stolen from her, she would've done it in a heartbeat.

  "It'll be okay," whispered her mom.

  She wanted to believe her mother, but she hurt for everyone involved as if having Michael
Jaster for a father was her fault. The pain burned a hole inside of her that she was afraid would never heal.

  "Sh, I'm here." Her mom kissed the top of Carly's head. "I love you."

  Her tears ran freely down her cheeks, wetting her mother's shirt. While she soaked up all the comfort, there was only one thing she wanted. One thing she needed.

  "I love him," she choked out.

  "I know." Her mother pushed Carly up and held her steady. "Don't lose that love."

  "But—"

  Her mom shook her head. "It's time to think about yourself. Do you want Mark?"

  Carly sniffed and nodded.

  "Then, tell him."

  "But, what about you?" Carly held on to her mom. "I can't leave you alone."

  A sad smile came over her mother's face. "Oh, darling, I'm not losing my daughter. You'll still be in my life, and I will always love you, no matter who you love or where you live."

  She hugged her mom, holding on tight. For the first time that she could remember, it was her mom that gave her the strength she needed and not the other way around.

  Chapter 39

  Josh rode off leading a group of seven riders to the lower trailhead. Mark itched to get away from the office. The customers' never-ending questions before renting an ATV reminded him of Carly.

  Catching sight of Kyle stepping out of the garage to spit, he whistled, grabbing the kid's attention. "I'm going to take off for a bit. There're only three rentals available. If anyone comes, make sure you have them sign a release form."

  Kyle saluted him. "Gotcha."

  Walking over to his ATV, he started the engine, and took off, no destination in mind, though he knew where he needed to go.

  Over the last week, he'd tried to focus on work and still, the days were long, and the nights unbearable. He kept in daily contact with Anders, asking about Carly. She and her mom were still on the mountain but had yet to take advantage of the food inside the Lair, preferring to stay inside the cabin.

  He'd found out Carly bought groceries in Federal and put gas in her car—temporarily making him crazy, believing she would drive away and he'd never see her again.

  Quint checked in with him every day, making sure their crime had gone unnoticed. Mark, while thankful for the contact, wanted answers that no one could give him.

  Used to living every day looking behind him, afraid of getting killed, he realistically knew he should enjoy the freedom that was suddenly his, but all he wanted was Carly.

  Hell, Wednesday night after work, he'd driven over to Anders' Lair, parked outside the cabin, knowing Carly was inside, and he couldn't go in. He couldn't knock at the door. He couldn't yell her name.

  After everything she'd been through and what the future looked like for her, his self-worth plummeted. He was the last man she needed.

  He'd be a constant reminder of her dad and the evil he'd brought into her life.

  He knew nothing about family or relationships or loving a person enough they wanted nothing else but him.

  Taking the first switchback, he cut the corner and opened the throttle on the straightaway. The edge of the mountain brought no fear.

  He climbed in altitude, knowing the trail—the rocks, the ruts, the branches, the worn path. His head pounded over every bump, and he kept going, expecting things to be different.

  Nobody pointed a gun at his back.

  He rounded the corner and came out at the top of Bear Peak. Easing his thumb off the throttle, he rolled up in front of the three white crosses, cutting the engine.

  Leaning over the handlebars, he braced his forearms on the bar and ran his hands down his face, pulling on his beard. Each day without Joney, Two-crow, and Will by his side left him empty.

  Until Carly came into his life. She'd soothed the holes left in his heart and had him feeling again.

  He got off the ATV and walked to the edge of the mountain, standing beside the crosses. Looking out at the mountain below, he looked for answers.

  Two-crow would've enjoyed how much Carly talked and would've engaged her in Native American fables that none of the others knew if he'd made up or if they were the truth. She would've soaked up the information and found Two-crow entertaining.

  If Will would've had a chance to meet Carly, he would've banned her from going on the river with him. He loved the quiet, and he knew without a doubt that Carly wouldn't last five minutes without scaring the fish. Yet, he'd let her sit by the campfire and stare into the flames with him.

  If Joney had lived, he would be drawn to Evie. They were both childlike, even though Carly's mom had made it to adulthood. Both of them more sensitive than the others who were kidnapped, it would've been good for them to have found each other in their lifetime. But, Joney's was cut too short.

  Mark inhaled deeply. She belonged here with him. With them. On the mountain.

  "He's dead," he whispered.

  Needing to feel, to accept, to understand, he paced along the edge. He needed those he'd lost to know that he, Anders, and Quint succeeded.

  "He's dead," he yelled.

  His voice echoed back at him. Breathing heavily, he raised his arms to the sky and yelled louder, "He's dead."

  Stumbling away from the edge, he squatted by the crosses. The wind dried his cheeks, and he stared at the weathered wood.

  Weak, he bowed his head and closed his eyes. He was losing everything. Quint had Katelynn. Anders had Iliana. And, Carly had left him to take care of her mom.

  He couldn’t fault her. Living the life he'd led, he never broke away from the others. Evie needed Carly. She deserved the same comfort he'd received from those who understood.

  But he couldn't live without Carly.

  Standing up, he looked at each cross. Bolstered by the men who'd supported him. Who understood his pain. Who only wanted the best for him.

  Turning away, he headed back to his ATV, planning to go down the mountain and fight for Carly. He'd be here for when she was ready, even if he had to wait his whole damn life.

  A low rumbling reached his ears. He stopped and cocked his head trying to find the direction of the intruder, his hand going to the butt of his pistol.

  As the sound grew louder, his breathing came rapidly, and his chest pounded. An ATV rider came into view. Long brown hair flapped in the wind. His pulse accelerated, and he walked forward. Unable to take his gaze off Carly, he only stopped when she parked in front of him.

  She shut off the engine. His chest tightened at the uncertainty etched in her brow.

  "It's okay," he said, his insides shaking.

  Whatever was wrong, he'd fix it. If she needed him, he was here.

  She climbed off the quad and stepped toward him. He begged her silently to keep coming, to not change her mind, to walk into his arms.

  Carly lunged. He caught her, capturing her mouth, absorbing her sobs. Holding her tightly, he pulled back, dived back in, and reassured himself that she was really here. That she'd returned to him.

  She pulled her head back and framed his face with her hands. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah. Now." He swallowed. "You?"

  "I can't stay away from you. I don't know how you feel about me or if you want me to stay away, but I have to tell you that I love you. I think I fell in love with you years ago when you became a part of me through reading the reports. I hurt, Mark. God, I hurt so much without you. Please, tell me you're feeling the same way, and I'm not imagining—"

  "Carly." He swiped his thumbs along her cheeks. "I've already told you how much I love you."

  The little space between her brows wrinkled. "You did?"

  He kissed her hard. "I did, and I do. I don't know if I'll love you the right way or how you want, but I love you."

  "You're perfect for me." She threw her arms around his neck.

  He palmed her ass, picking her up. "Do you think you can live in the bunker?"

  "I can live anywhere that you'll be with me." She kissed him all over his face.

  He soaked in the attention aft
er not having her for a week. "I'm older than you."

  "So..." She rubbed her lips against his mouth. "I'm younger."

  "What about your mom?" His head tilted to the side as she sucked on his neck.

  "I don't know yet." She licked his skin. "One day at a time. I just know that she's trying and she understands how I feel about you, and approves."

  "We'll deal with what comes next, together," he said.

  She wiggled. "I need down."

  He let her slide against his body until her feet hit the rocky ground. The feel of her after being without her only aroused him more.

  She grabbed his hand, holding it to her chest. "You need to take me back to the bunker."

  He lifted his brows. She widened her eyes and motioned with her head.

  "You want me?" He held his amusement in.

  "I always want you." She tugged him toward his ATV. "Get on. I'll lead us down the mountain."

  He threw his leg over the seat and sat. "Do you think you know the way down?"

  "You'll have to trust me." Ahead of him, she gave him a silly smile. "I had a great, if not stubborn, guide who taught me how to figure things out on my own. I'll find my way."

  He looked back at the crosses before following her off the peak and could almost hear laughter in the wind. He'd got his answers.

  Rest in peace, my brothers.

  Epilogue

  One year later ~

  Carly danced at the edge of the stage with Katelynn while Iliana sang to the guests at Anders' Lair. Mark leaned back and watched her let loose and have fun after a grueling week of helping construct the new cabin on his property.

  "I don't know how the girls still have the energy to move." Anders's gaze stayed on Iliana.

  "It probably has something to do with them being young and energetic." Quint rotated his shoulder. "That last load of logs about did me in."

  The fact that they'd all fallen in love with women younger than them was a constant source of entertainment for the ladies. Especially when they got together. The ribbing was well placed and aimed at the men.