“Sure,” I breathed. “Tonight.”
He smiled, content and satisfied, his eyes already closed. Before I could say another word, he was gone.
I laid there for a moment, watching him, trying to memorize every pore in his skin, every hair on his head, and every pale scar that littered his body. Finally, I got up and covered him up with the blanket. I got dressed and went to his desk. I removed a piece of paper and a pen.
Dear Patrick,
I started to write. I didn’t know what to say after that. How do I say that I didn’t want to risk anyone else? That I loved him too much to watch him die? How did I say that I didn’t know who I was anymore and that I didn’t want to continue to hurt him? How did I say that I hated myself and that he is part of the reason why? I couldn’t put that in a letter. After 15 minutes of trying to explain myself, and failing miserably, all I was able to say was:
Dear Patrick,
I’m so sorry. I love you.
D
Folding the piece of paper, I left it on the desk. He’d find it when he couldn’t find me. I left the house with a single tear on my cheek, then hopped on my motorcycle and drove off. There was one stop I had to make.
Chapter 24
It was early still. The sun had crested over the skyline as I left the mansion. Fifteen minutes later it wasn’t much higher. The moon was still out as I parked the bike on the street. I hated the suburbs but this was a stop I had to make.
Derek lived in a cookie-cutter subdivision where the houses were mirror images of each other, with an open floor plan, and the bathroom was as plain as any rental.
Following the manicured walk, just like the rest of the Stepford lawns in Derek’s cul-de-sac neighborhood, I approached the front door and knocked. When no one answered, I knocked harder. The sound of a burly man tripping over something and swearing in a groggy rumble was audible through the door. Any other day I would’ve smiled at causing him a little grief. Today was different.
Derek yanked the door open, standing in the doorframe dressed only in his boxers and seeming annoyed.
I rolled my eyes and folded my arms over my chest. The last thing I wanted was to see him in his boxers. It wasn’t that he was bad looking. He was Derek and I didn’t want to see it.
“Here a little early, aren’t ya, Kid, or is it late for you?” he asked with sleep still thick in his voice as he rubbed his eyes. He leaned on the doorframe and rolled his neck.
“Both, I imagine.”
“You wanna come in?” he asked, yawning as he swung the door wide.
“No,” I answered probably a little too quick, shoving my hands into my jeans pockets. “I came to tell you that I’m . . . I’m leaving,” I blurted. His eyes narrowed on me with suspicion. The stern cop façade fell over his face, eclipsing everything else. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as my friend disappeared and the cop emerged.
“Oh yeah?” he asked in his controlled cop voice. He was awake now.
“Yeah.”
“Where ya goin’?” he asked, folding his bulky arms over his chest. His muscles bulged like a body builder’s as he tried to hide his tension.
“I don’t know,” I said, suddenly unsure, as my voice cracked.
“How long ya gonna be gone?” he asked, and this time he sounded worried.
“Dunno,” I said again, plucking the receipt from my back pocket and handing it to him. “That’s an e-mail account I set up. No one knows about it so if you need to get in touch with me, use this. I’ll check it as often as I can.”
He was quiet for a moment as he watched me squirm.
“I just wanted you to know so you didn’t think I was skipping out on you,” I offered with a sad attempt at a smile.
“Does he know?” he asked. Suddenly, instead of the cop badgering me, Derek was my friend again. His body relaxed and his arms fell to his sides as he took a step toward me.
“He will soon enough,” I said as I wiped a tear from my cheek. “Don’t let him push you into searching for me, either,” I snapped, suddenly defiant.
“Sure, Kid,” he said with an accepting nod. “You’re gone, and I don’t know where, I get it.” He peered over my shoulder. “I think there might be someone else you need to talk to though before you skip town,” he offered, nodding his head to something behind me.
I spun to face the street.
Dean leaned up against his truck on the opposite side. I’d been so distracted I hadn’t heard his truck. Turning back to Derek, I gave him a quick hug.
“Remember what I said. Don’t let him push you around, either one of them,” I said against his ear.
He hugged me back and said, “Yeah, I’ll remember. Try not to get into trouble.” He stepped away. “Good luck, Kid.” He gave me a quick nod then backed into the house and closed the door.
I shuffled back the way I’d come, passing my bike parked on the street. Stopping a few feet away, I stood before Dean, tall, with my shoulders back, and on my own two feet.
“You can’t stop me,” I said.
“Didn’t come to stop you.”
“Then why are you here?” I asked, confused.
He yanked me into his arms and pressed me firmly against the solid bulk of his warm chest.
“To give you a reason to come back,” he huffed in a husky, dangerous tone. His lips crashed down upon mine with a hunger I’d been feeling for months and had not words to describe. His lips were full, heated with power and passion, and clung to me with a possessiveness of white-hot need that seared into me. He parted my lips with his tongue and drove past my teeth as that voice whispered inside my head, safe . . . warm . . . home.
I collapsed into his embrace like I’d always been there, like coming home. His scorching hot power rushed over me, filled me, and consumed me whole as his mouth devoured mine.
My body grew warm and expectant as my hands ran up the hard lines of his back and clasped onto his shoulders, clinging to him as he licked and tasted me. My breasts grew heavy with want as a pool of heat lingered low in my body.
The scent of him, musk and a spring forest, filled my senses, making my knees buckle. I was home, just as I had been home in Patrick’s arms. Something inside me clicked into place like the pins aligning in a lock. He jerked away from me, his breath heavy and ragged like mine.
“That’s not fair,” I grunted.
“I never said I played fair.” He chuckled, his lips swollen and still a kissable distance away. I could feel his breath graze my skin.
I loved him.
I loved his strength, his silence, his patience, and I loved that he didn’t expect any of that from me.
“I have to go,” I pleaded, still wrapped in his strong, muscled arms.
“I know,” he said, defeated.
I found my knees and stood on my own, stepping out of his strong embrace. It was harder than I’d thought it would be, putting that distance between us. She kept growling in the back of my mind to stay with him, to protect him and the Pack. I couldn’t. Even standing there, knowing that I loved him, I had nothing left to give.
He let me go, then leaned back against his truck with an ease I didn’t believe. His shoulders were too stiff and the muscles along his jaw jumped and pulsed as he ground his teeth.
“You know?” I asked, suspicious.
He hung his head and nodded, releasing a heavy breath that sounded just as tired as I felt.
“Yeah, I’ve been watching you for days, months, really.” He shifted, meeting my eyes with pain and understanding. “You’ve had an expression on your face for the last two days that . . .” he started, but hesitated. “I’ve seen that look in the mirror a thousand times since Janey died but something always kept me here.” He touched my face, his light fingers trailing a hot trail of desire d
own my neck straight to my core. “I could never do what you’re about to do.”
“What?” I scoffed. “Run away?”
“No,” he growled. “Stand on your own two feet. I relied on the Pack and Patrick, sometimes too heavily. You’re braver than you know. Braver than I was.”
“I don’t remember who I am or why . . .” I said, but I couldn’t finish. I didn’t want him to hear me admit how irrevocably broken I was.
“Or why we love you,” he finished for me.
I nodded and tried not to cry. He watched me force back my tears in silence. I didn’t want any of them to know but he seemed to read me like a book. I couldn’t hide from him and I had too much to keep secret. If I really loved them, I had to get away. The only way to protect them was to leave them.
He seemed to see it all play out behind my eyes. “Danny and Amblan’s deaths weren’t your fault.”
I turned surprised eyes up to him.
“I know that’s what’s been playing over and over again in that pretty little head of yours. Since Danny died and now Amblan.”
“They were,” I said.
He took my face in his hands, forcing me to focus on him and really see him.
“No, they weren’t,” he said, frustration clear in the growl.
I nodded, not daring to contradict him, knowing that he’d smell the lie. His lips disappeared into a thin line as he shook his head in disbelief. He didn’t believe me. I didn’t believe me, either.
He released my face and turned to open the door of his truck. He grabbed an envelope from the front seat and handed it to me without ceremony.
I opened it with a questioning glance up at his stoic expression. The envelope was filled with hundreds. I snapped my head up to meet his waiting grin.
“There’s six thousand there,” he said with a smile. “Let’s call it an advance on your wages.” I handed it back to him but he shoved it back at me. “You’ll need this and you won’t be able to use your accounts. Pat’ll find you if you do?”
I nodded. I’d already ditched my phone and taken out as much money as the ATM would allow. The minute Patrick found out I was gone, he wouldn’t stop until he found me. That was one of the reasons I loved him.
“I didn’t tell anyone but Derek. Don’t let Patrick pressure Jade to find me,” I said, shoving the money into my inside jacket pocket.
“She’s Pack,” he said.
Patrick would have to go through Dean for Jade’s help and Dean would regulate Patrick’s access to her. I nodded. Dean would protect her when I couldn’t.
There was so much I wanted to say. So much I didn’t know how to say. I stared up at him and simply leaned in. I kissed him, a brief caress of lips that was somehow filled with all my sorrow and regret. He held still, accepting my kiss for what it was.
“Thank you,” I whispered against his lips.
“When you get back, we’ll talk about this Eithina thing,” he said with a warm grin, echoing my words back to me.
“When I get back.” I nodded, meeting his soft, olive-green eyes. The first signs of Caribbean blue bled in to his irises, showing his fight to keep control of his wolf and remain calm . . . for me.
He raised his head toward the fading moon and the rising sun. “Baby, you’re burnin’ daylight and your 12-hour lead.”
I nodded and turned back toward the bike.
He grabbed me by the hand and held me to him one last time, pressing his lips hard against mine. His warm mouth crushed against mine. His kiss was radiated his need, promising other things later, things I wanted. My eyes fluttered and I felt the warm tingle of arousal between my thighs. As he stepped away, I wondered if this would be the last time.
“I love you. Be safe,” he said as he let me go. I crossed the street to my bike without looking back.
“I love you, too,” I breathed as I shoved the helmet down over my head. I don’t know if he heard me or not.
I got onto the bike and started it up. I allowed myself a glance back at him and everything I was leaving behind. I gripped the handlebars, twisted the throttle and shot out in a roar of engine noise.
I weaved through the suburban maze until I reached the highway and headed West. I had a lead. I had money in my pocket and the means to disappear. Patrick loved me, Dean loved me, and God help me, I loved them both. I just didn’t love myself, not anymore.
I didn’t know where I was going or how long I’d be gone. I didn’t even know if I was coming back. All I knew was I had to fix this, and I couldn’t do it in Columbus.
The moon’s waning crescent, still faint in the distance, lit my way and I chased that small sliver of silver in the sky until it disappeared into midday, and I kept heading West.
See how Dahlia gets her start in the first
book of the Blushing Death series:
Pool of Crimson
Killing vampires is easy. Trusting one will be the hardest thing Dahlia Sabin has ever done.
Dahlia has lived a lonely existence as a killer of the undead. Known as The Blushing Death to those that fear her, Dahlia uncovers a plot by Columbus’s Master Vampire, Ethan. He intends to raise a demon from the depths of hell to destroy the city, cement his power, and take control.
In her pursuit to stop a demon from manifesting, Dahlia sinks deeper into the city’s supernatural underworld and discovers that vampires are not only deadly; one in particular could be dangerous to her very soul and her heart. Patrick, the Master vampire’s second-in-command with dark penetrating eyes and a cool, deadly sophistication, can’t stay away and Dahlia can’t tell him no. There’s something that neither of them knows, Ethan wants Dahlia’s unleashed power for himself and is willing to do anything to get it.
Dahlia is in a race against time to send the demon back to hell, at war with her better judgment, trusting a dark and intriguing vampire with his own agenda, while struggling to save her own neck. As the portal to hell opens, Dahlia has only herself to rely on in order to survive, if she can …
Dahlia’s adventures continue
in the second book in the series:
Midnight Ash
It’s all fun and games until a dismembered hand gets nailed to your front door.
When a woman is mutilated and murdered steps from her home, Dahlia Sabin is thrust into the middle of a territorial vampire war with a target on her back and an assassin on her trail.
When a 500-year-old vampire ninja assassin is unleashed on the city to claim Dahlia’s head, she has to convince the men in her life to work together before Midnight Ash and her group of assassins can claim their prize. But being in love with the most powerful and charismatic vampire in the state incites animosity and jealousy as Dahlia sinks deeper into the werewolf Pack, becoming entangled with its Beta.
In her race to uncover the plot behind Midnight Ash, Dahlia is confronted with old arguments, forgotten traumas, and a new complication in the cogent and all tempting Pack Alpha. As she’s driven further into the supernatural world, Dahlia is torn between the vampire she loves and the primal pull of the Pack.
If Dahlia can’t stop Midnight Ash before blood is spilled, she may never find out who has a contract out on her head, what they hope to gain, or if she’s strong enough to survive losing everything.
Sliver of Silver (Blushing Death) Page 28
