Chosen Prey

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Chosen Prey Page 8

by Cheyenne McCray


  Lyra wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him for comfort. Comfort she’d never had and needed more than she ever realized.

  Hot, painful, humiliating memories flooded Lyra’s mind, memories that she wanted to shove out and never think of again. But she couldn’t quite force out the images that had haunted her for years.

  “There’s more, isn’t there?” Dare stated.

  She pressed her cheek against his shirt and nodded. “I don’t want to talk about it. The memories hurt too much.”

  “Honey, I need to know.” He brushed her hair and gripped her tight to him. “And I think it’s something you need to get off your chest.”

  Lyra couldn’t look at him and kept herself pressed up against him. He held her tight and continued to stroke her hair, and she almost felt like everything would be okay.

  The words slipped out before she could take them back. “He used to make me—he used to make me watch.”

  Dare went completely still. “Watch…what?”

  “He would bring in one of his wives and make,” she swallowed hard, “he’d make me watch him having sex with her.”

  Dare clenched his hand in her hair and his entire body went so rigid he felt like steel against her. “The fucking bastard made you watch,” he repeated, his voice so harsh it would have scared her if she wasn’t so sure his anger was directed at Neal and not her.

  Lyra held on to Dare tighter, afraid she might fall without the strength of his embrace. “He said it was to train me in how I should act when I was his new First Wife.” Tears fell easily now, and her cheeks were completely wet. “Sometimes he would flog them as punishment for one reason or another. Sometimes he would flog me,” she added in a whisper.

  She turned so that she was face-first against Dare’s chest. “I’ve never been able to get those memories out of my mind.”

  “Sonofabitch.” Dare gripped her so tight she almost felt as if she would break.

  Dare drew her onto his lap and holding her like he’d never let her go. For a long time, he held her as she cried.

  Hiccups wracked her body as her tears started to lessen. “I’m afraid, Dare. I’m so afraid.”

  Anger raged through Dare with the force of a wildfire burning an entire forest. What the sonofabitch had done to Lyra—Dare was beyond furious. So furious he didn’t know what to say at that moment.

  Tears had soaked through Dare’s shirt, warming his chest as she cried. “I’m so tired of running,” she continued. “I just want a normal life. I don’t even know what that is.” She tilted her tearstained face to look at him. “I won’t be caged again. I won’t be forced to have that man’s child.”

  Heat magnified throughout Dare’s entire body at the thought of what the cult leader had forced her to do when she was a teenager. No way was Dare letting the assholes get their hands on her. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight.

  Lyra continued to cry quietly against his chest. “I’m so tired. I don’t want to run anymore. I don’t want to run.”

  Dare gently stroked her hair, trying not to tremble with the force of his anger, letting her get it all out. “I won’t let the sonsofbitches get their hands on you. I promise.”

  She pushed away from Dare and wiped tears from her eyes with the sleeves of her shirt. “Damn it.” She gave another sniffle and pushed her hair out of her face. “I hate crying.”

  Dare took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. “You’ve been through a lot. Don’t get all over yourself for the way you’re feeling right now.”

  Lyra’s lips trembled like she was trying to smile. “Who’d have thought you’d be such a sweet man?”

  Dare grimaced. “Promise you won’t tell Nick.”

  Lyra laughed and brushed tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands. “He’s your partner, right?”

  “Yeah.” Dare frowned as his mind churned through their options. “I’ve got to find some place to hole up until we figure this thing out.”

  “I don’t want to be an inconvenience.” Her eyelashes felt wet against her cheeks when she blinked. “I just need to get away from here. Far away. I could go across the country. Boston maybe, or Daytona Beach. Anywhere that would put as much distance as possible between me and them. Someplace where I can lose myself.”

  Dare shook his head. “There’s got to be a way to get them off your back for good.”

  Lyra gave a long drawn-out sigh. “Fat chance. You’ve only gotten a taste of them. Neal Barker will never stop hunting me.” She wiped her eyes again. “I can’t even get a driver’s license. Or a credit card, because I know they can track me down that way. I can’t live a normal life. Whatever normal is.”

  Dare scooted up further onto the bed, drawing her with him, so that they were lying on the bedspread with their heads on the pillows, her back to his chest. He gripped her around her waist and held her as close as possible, trying to give her every bit of comfort he could.

  She sniffed and shivered a few times before she gradually began to relax against him. Eventually her breathing became deep and even, and he knew she had fallen asleep.

  Even as she slept, he had to fight back rage that continued to burn through him. He stared at the room’s window. He saw nothing but his bare hands around the neck of a man’s throat, wringing the life out of him.

  It was a long time before Dare could relax and let just thoughts of Lyra fill his mind. Everything about her stirred something in him. Her bravery, her rebelliousness, her determination, and her softness.

  A primal urge rose within him. He wanted to protect Lyra with everything he had. He wanted to replace bad memories with good. To give her something special. To treat her like the beautiful, extraordinary woman she was. She deserved so much better than what life had dealt her.

  One way or another he was going to make sure she never had to run again.

  7

  When Lyra woke, she startled. She was alone in the hotel room bed with a blanket draped over her. The sky outside the window had grown dark, but soft light lit the room.

  Tantalizing smells met her nose, and her stomach growled. Roast beef, perhaps, and potatoes?

  She rolled over and pushed herself up at the same time she saw Dare sitting in an armchair, studying her. He was reclined with his body stretched out, his booted feet crossed at his ankles, and his hands folded on his belly. He looked absolutely delicious.

  “Ready for dinner?” he asked with a gentle smile. Dried tears made Lyra’s face feel tight, and her eyes burned from crying. But for some reason the sight of Dare made everything else vanish and she was able to smile back at him. “Starving,” she said as she noticed the valet cart with silver domes, no doubt covering the source of those mouthwatering smells.

  Dare got to his feet and extended his hand to her. She let him draw her up so that she could swing her feet over the side of the bed and then stand.

  “First, I need to wash my face.” She released his hand and instantly missed the warmth, the sense of security, it had given her for just those few moments. She had a hard time breaking the link that seemed to connect them as her eyes locked with his. Finally, she managed to get herself to move. She walked away from him, into the bathroom, and closed the door behind her.

  When she saw her appearance in the mirror, she groaned. Her mascara and eye makeup were smudged and she felt like a melted wax mannequin. Seeing her newly dyed and shortened red hair was still a shock as she studied her reflection. With a shake of her head, she turned on the cold water and splashed it over her face. The water felt so good and bracing, and she felt a little more like her old self.

  After she’d used a washcloth to scrub off all the makeup and had used the toilet, she washed and dried her hands before opening the door and going into the bedroom. Dare had his shoulder hitched up against the doorway, his arms folded across his chest, as he watched her come out of the bathroom. Their gazes met and she took a deep breath.

  He looked so yummy she could have eaten him instead
of the dinner. The mere thought made her warm inside, and her cheeks flushed with heat.

  She broke eye contact and turned to the room’s table, where he’d arranged the meal and dinnerware. “You didn’t have to wait for me,” she said as she moved toward the table and sat in one of the chairs.

  She’d been right—roast beef. Baby red potatoes with other vegetables were arranged beside the beef, and a bread roll perched on one side of the plate. Condiments sat in the middle of the table, along with two dessert plates of double chocolate fudge cake and glasses of iced tea.

  “How’d you know all of my favorites?” She smiled at him as he took the chair opposite hers.

  His sexy grin made her belly flutter as he settled in and picked up his knife and fork.

  During dinner they talked about baseball and basketball—turned out they both loved the sports. Dare was a huge Arizona Diamondbacks and Phoenix Suns fan, while Lyra was into the Los Angeles Dodgers and the Seattle Supersonics. She and her father had been rabid fans while she was growing up. For some reason talking about the sports with Dare felt good, and she only felt a little sadness over the loss of her past.

  With baseball they argued about the best pitcher in the league and who would take the World Series. With basketball, hands down Michael Jordan was the best player who’d ever lived and seemed like a heck of a nice guy.

  While they ate dessert, they discussed their favorite movies and movie stars. When Dare reminded her of scenes from an older movie, Analyze This, he had her giggling over the time the mob boss Paul Vitti said to Dr. Sobel, “Want I should clear your schedule for you?” And it struck her even funnier as she remembered the time Dr. Sobel said, “You don’t hear the word ‘no’ very often, do you?” The mob boss replied, “Yeah, I do, but it’s more like, ‘Please…noo…noo.’” She’d watched it at Becca’s on DVD not too long ago and hadn’t laughed so hard in ages.

  Dare’s favorite movies were action/adventure, and Lyra preferred futuristic and fantasy. They both enjoyed a good comedy.

  By the time they’d polished off the dessert, Lyra was feeling pretty good. Great conversation with a sexy man and double chocolate fudge cake—she was so there.

  After calling room service. Dare pushed the cart containing all the empty dishes next to the door in the hallway, then shut the door behind him.

  When he turned back to Lyra, she suddenly felt awkward and shy.

  “It’s getting late,” he said, not taking his eyes from hers.

  Lyra nodded but couldn’t talk because her throat had gone dry and she couldn’t think of a word to say. Her heart pounded and crazy sensations zipped around in her belly.

  By the look in his dark eyes. Dare felt the same tension that now filled the room. It was electrifying.

  When he walked toward her, she found herself moving, too, until she met him halfway.

  For a long moment she stared up at him. His penetrating gaze made her feel like he was inside her, a part of her.

  Dare brought his hands up to her face as he lowered his mouth closer to hers and she felt his warm breath on her lips. She wanted him to kiss her so badly that she couldn’t wait. Didn’t wait.

  She slipped her hands up and around his neck and brought him down at the same time she tipped her head up, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips against his. Dare groaned and opened his mouth, and she slipped her tongue inside. He tasted so good. Of chocolate cake, iced tea, and male. He smelled of sunshine and warmth, a warmth she wanted to wrap around herself and never let go.

  When he drew away, she opened her eyes and licked her moist lips, still tasting him on her mouth and tongue. A thrill rolled around in her belly as his erection pressed against her. Her nipples were so hard they ached, and she felt shivery and jittery.

  Dare lowered his head again and bit her lower lip. She cried out as he thrust his tongue into her mouth again. His stubble abraded her soft skin, making her feel even more raw inside and out.

  Lyra moaned and he answered her by sucking her tongue into his mouth. He moved one of his hands into her hair and clenched a lock of it so hard that the pain of it turned into a sweet kind of pleasure.

  While his mouth literally ravaged her, his free hand slid up her thigh, beneath her tank top, and to her breasts. He pinched one of her nipples and she groaned from the desire that grew in intensity from his touch.

  “Take off your shoes,” Dare murmured against her mouth before he trailed his lips to her jawline.

  Lyra didn’t hesitate. She toed off each shoe, kicking them across the room.

  Dare continued taking a lazy path with his lips down her neck to her cloth-covered nipple. Lyra held on to him as he nipped at her breast through her tank top and she found herself wanting him to hurry. Wanted so much more than just kissing and touching.

  For the first time she wished she was wearing some kind of sexy underwear. Lace, satin, silk. Anything but the simple white cotton hip-huggers she wore and the plain white bra.

  She moved her hand to his belt buckle, and her fingers brushed his erection through the denim.

  Dare’s cock jerked against her touch. He sucked in his breath and caught her hand in his large grasp. “Not tonight.”

  Lyra looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “What do you mean?”

  He released her hand and traced his fingers along her jawline to her ear, a sensual movement that made her shiver. “You’ve just had a hell of a day. You need rest.”

  “But—”

  He silenced her with a hard kiss. When he pulled away, he said, “When I make love to you, I want you to be sure that’s exactly what you want. After the last couple of days you’ve had, you need time to be sure.”

  Warmth crept through Lyra, a different kind of warmth that spread through her chest. The kind of warmth that came from being able to trust someone. Someone who might actually care for her needs over his own. “Are you sure?” she whispered.

  “No.” He groaned and pushed himself up from beside her. “I’d better get my ass away from you and take a cold shower. My self-control is running on empty.”

  Lyra watched him as he stepped back. He was so sexy, so powerful looking. He studied her and shook his head. “You get some sleep.”

  “You can sleep on the bed tonight,” she said with a little smile. “I won’t make you sleep on the floor.”

  Dare winked and turned away. She watched him stride to the bathroom door. He paused in the open doorway and looked back at her. “Go on now. Get some sleep, beautiful.”

  Lyra continued to stare at the door long after he closed it. She’d wanted him so bad, and she knew he’d wanted her. But he’d had the strength to step back when she would have charged forward.

  He was right. She wasn’t thinking clearly now, and her life had been turned upside down and inside out.

  Lyra realized in truth that she was incredibly tired. She barely had the energy to go to her backpack and jerk out a T-shirt. After she tugged it on, she climbed beneath the covers. The sheets felt cool against her skin. She tucked a pillow under her head and was so relaxed and so tired that in moments she faded off to sleep.

  8

  Neal clenched one fist at his side as he spoke this time with Mark on his cell phone and was told the news of Lyra’s second escape. Neal’s bare feet sank into the plush carpeting while he paced the length of his large room.

  He called on Jericho and the Light to give him patience.

  “We almost missed her at the bus stop because she cut her hair, dyed it red, and piled on the makeup,” Mark was saying with an angry edge to his voice. “She dropped a few things out of her backpack and that’s how we spotted her.”

  Neal fought for calm as he held the cell phone between his shoulder and ear and went to his altar and lit a joint. “Lyra changed her appearance?” he said slowly.

  “She doesn’t look anything like she did before,” Mark said.

  “Bitch,” Neal growled. “I’ll teach her a lesson once you get her to Oregon.”

&n
bsp; “The cowboy got in the way again, at the bus stop.” Mark’s voice sounded even more furious.

  Neal frowned at the hostility in Mark’s tone. It wasn’t like him to react this way, especially when it came to discussing Neal’s future First Wife.

  “You seem to be forgetting your place,” Neal said. “You fucked up and lost Lyra. You should be on your knees right now.”

  Mark quieted on the other end of the line. “I apologize, Prophet.”

  Neal pressed the phone harder against his ear while bringing the joint to his mouth with his free hand. His fingers trembled with the force of his anger. He sucked in a long drag before releasing the smoke. “Are you sure Lyra and the PI aren’t at any of the local hotels?” A slow burn rose in his chest that wasn’t caused by the weed. “Absolutely?”

  “It’s big, but not that large of a town,” Mark said, his tone lower and more respectful. “I had all of our available men check every hotel and ask to see if a woman matching her description had checked in. No luck. We searched the hotel parking lots for his SUV. We’ve got the plate number, too. She has to be hiding someplace else.”

  Neal let a long silence hang in the air to let Mark know how pissed he was. He took another drag on the joint. “If you don’t find her,” he said in a slow, measured tone as he released the smoke through his nose and mouth. “You have my promise you’ll regret it.”

  He was certain he heard Mark swallow at the other end of the line. “I know I’ve disappointed you, the High Prophet Jericho, and the Light.” Mark’s tone changed so that there was a slight tremor in his voice. “We’ll get the mother of the new Messiah.”

  Now that Neal was easing into a meditative state with the pot, a thought occurred to him, no doubt the Light telling him what would aid them in getting to Lyra. “Find out who her friends and acquaintances are. Learn what you can and a way to reach her. Get through to her. When you’ve done that, call me and I’ll give you more instructions.”

  A sound of relief came across with Mark’s words. “We’ll do it right away. In the name of Jericho and the Light.”

 

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