“I tried talking to some of my friends about what was going on, but no one believed me. A man of Brian’s means could never do what I was accusing him of. I was a lying bitch who was just unhappy in my marriage and only wanted a large alimony check. I started taking pictures of myself on a disposable camera that we had never used from some vacation. Those pictures were very compelling when I finally had enough courage to go to the police. And then he threatened me with a gun…” Rubbing her arms to ward off the chill that crawled over her, “It was after that, during the trial, that I found out my husband had been sleeping with other women, blaming me for his affairs. I never saw it. Or never wanted to? I’m still not sure of which yet.”
Drake kept his eyes on hers, his arms crossed on the table in front of him, his coffee forgotten. His hands in tight fists, and he wished he had an outlet for the rage that was engulfing him on her behalf. He could not let her see the anger he was swallowing down He wanted her to remember that she was safe while she was with him. That was, at this moment in time, paramount.
“Eighteen months, a fucking year and a half is all he got for what he did to me! Oh, wait, I’m sorry, eighteen months should be enough, right?” she spun toward Drake. “He beat and threatened my life and gets next to nothing? I wanted to scream when I heard that. Now his time is almost up and I had to leave. I had to leave, do you understand? I was getting messages, threats about what he will do when he gets out. But no one will listen to me; he’s a perfect prisoner. I had to get away today, my instincts were telling me I was almost out of time and I am so terrified…“ She cut off, sobbing into her hands now that she had unloaded everything.
Drake got up slowly and cautiously and walked over to her, relaxing his hands and his anger, carefully gathering her in his arms, holding her like a fragile object against his chest. He felt her stiffen as he gathered her in close, but she finally started to relax in his arms.
Chapter 6
Brian
“What, exactly, do you mean ‘She’s not there’?” Brian Peterson asked the man sitting across the table from him. “How can she be ‘not there’? You were supposed to be keeping eyes on that bitch while I’m in here. I want to know where she is when I walk out. She has already cost both me and Caesar too much time and inconveniences in our business dealings, not to mention my time in here.” The expression on his handsome face never changed, never raising an alert to the guards in the comers of the room, nor the ones monitoring the room on the close circuit cameras, not unless you looked in his eyes, and Manuel Acosta was looking into eyes that had gone as flat and deadly as a sharks.
To anyone looking on, it appeared to be a conversation between friends, but the two men knew better. Brian had changed little during his time in jail, a tall man with a strong build, he held his own during his first days in there, days when everyone was trying to prove their standing as the biggest and baddest. He knew how to fight, and fight dirty, but he also knew that he held a power in there because of his wealth, and he wielded that power like a king to uphold his status behind the jails walls.
Manuel Acosta was a little man, an underling working for Brian as his go between, a middle-man between himself and men who Brian needed to keep in contact with. Brian knew about men that were far more dangerous, more deadly, than Manuel, but Manuel had his uses. He could get around virtually unnoticed because he was average in every way. Average height, average build, nondescript brown hair, plain brown eyes. Yes, Manuel was a very useful tool for him to have at his disposal.
Swallowing audibly, Manuel maintained his eye contact and said, “We were. It was a mistake, a miscommunication between men. She took off before the storm came in yesterday, stupid puta. We have the tracker on the car and another in her phone, and we were following it until the roads got bad. The men figured she would stop and wait out the storm and we could grab her if we needed to, but the roads got too bad real fast, and they had to stop. She kept going and finally stopped up ahead of us. We know where her car is, and we’ll get her as soon as we can.”
“You’d better. She has no clue what she has done. I do not want her getting away before I even the score.”
“We could call the cops and give an anonymous tip…“ Manuel started before Brian cut him off.
“Are you fucking stupid? If you do that, we could lose everything! No, we need to keep lying low right now. We have been undetectable by the feds so far, and you want to hand ourselves over to the cops? What the fuck would Caesar say to you, or better yet, do to you? I bet your family would really love your severed head as a Christmas present from El Cuchillo Grande. I don’t think The Big Knife would take it easy on you, or them, at all.”
Brian’s hazel eyes flashed with his fury, his normally tanned face with strong cheekbones and jaw turned red with restrained violence, the cords in his neck visible with the rage he was trying desperately to conceal. Leaning forward over the table, “I have less than a week left in here and I want the bitch that was my wife to know what real fear is before she pays, do you understand?” He leaned back in his chair and smiled as a guard approached. Relaxing his voice for the guard’s benefit he continued, “I appreciate you coming in and I hope you keep me informed? Let me know when you have everything ready.”
After Manuel left, Brian was being escorted to his cell by a guard, another one in the stream of guards he held in his palm, a palm lined with money that made it easy for him to make them his pawns. This guard had a gambling problem that he hoped Brian would be able to clear up for him, and that Brian used to his own personal advantage.
“There’s a disposable phone waiting for your message. If you tell me what you want it to say, I’ll take care of it, keep you in the clear.” The guard grabbed hold of Brian’s arm while they waited for his cell door to slide open. “I’ll be back by in a few minutes for that message.”
Brian acknowledged this with a nod of his head as he turned to face the guard while the door slid shut. Putting his hands out so the guard could remove his handcuffs, he just looked at the guard, his face giving away nothing to any others who might be watching them.
A few minutes later, as the guard was making another pass, Brian was ready and slipped a folded note to the guard with instructions. “You make sure this gets through, and I’ll help take care of that little gambling problem of yours.”
Palming the paper, the guard turned and kept walking down the corridor toward the break room where he could stash the message until he could send it.
Chapter 7
The Cabin
Drake reached his hand up to Kaylie’s cheek, his fingers gentle as he stroked her face and the dark bruise that marred her forehead.
His gaze held hers and he could see the mixture of colors in her eyes, the green and the blues, and some interesting flecks of gold in them. Intrigued, his gaze drifted lower to her mouth, to those soft looking full lips, and felt the front of his jeans tighten when he saw the tip of her tongue peek out and lick her lips.
His eyes flicked back up to hers and he could see the longing in them and he couldn’t resist it anymore, he had to see if she tasted as sweet as he thought she would. Still looking into her eyes, he leaned down and gently brushed his mouth across hers, a soft caressing of lips.
Kaylies body responded slowly, gradually warming to Drakes kiss; the gentleness of it was almost hesitant. When they separated, Kaylie had to know if she’d imagined that touch and her tongue slipped past her own lips to seek and savor the taste of him.
When he leaned back, he watched her eyes flutter open and her tongue licking her lips again. Mesmerized by that small action, he leaned back in and took her mouth with his again, his tongue licking the seam of her lips until she opened her mouth and met his tongue with her own. With a groan, he turned her in his arms as their tongues dueled and caressed each other’s. She made a small sound in her throat and her hands went to his chest, fisting in the fabric of his shirt, while he took her mouth hungrily.
They were both breathing hard
when they separated, looking into one another’s eyes. Drake took a deep breath and stepped back from her, not wanting to frighten her. “I’ll finish this, why don’t you go shower and relax.”
Nodding, Kaylie turned and walked into her room to get what she needed for her shower.
She closed the bathroom door behind her and looked in the mirror, the bruising a dark combination of black and purple marring her forehead. She kept looking critically at her face, noticing the small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and the bags underneath them. Age, she thought, combined with stress had already begun taking their toll on her. She reached up and traced her fingers across her lips, thinking of how Drakes lips had felt against her own, feeling a tingling and a clenching low in her belly.
Turning away from the mirror she turned on the water and stepped under the spray of the shower, letting the wet heat and the steam sooth her muscles as she stood there. Her head dropped down, stretching her neck as she tried to persuade her muscles to relax. Kaylie stood there for a few minutes, just letting the water run down her body, watching as the water ran toward the drain and wishing it could take her past along with it. She finally opened her eyes, picked up the soap and lathered up her hands. She smiled when she smelled the same clean scent that she had noticed on Drake.
She couldn’t help but think about that kiss, and how her body had responded to it, even now while alone in the shower. She began lathering herself, her hands caressing her body as she bathed. She stifled a moan when she lingered over her tightened nipples and her stomach clenched when she lowered one hand down over her belly to the soft curls that covered her. She stood there; plucking at her nipples while her other hand began seeking out the ball of nerves at the juncture of her thighs. She began teasing that nub softly and slowly at first, biting her lip to keep from making too much noise. The pressure was beginning to build when her head dropped back, rapping against the shower wall. “Seriously? I can’t even do this right?” Embarrassment had her stopping and shaking her head at her own antics; she was finishing her shower when there was a knock at the door.
Drake had been finishing up in the kitchen when he heard a thunk from the bathroom. It wasn’t loud enough to make him think she had lost consciousness but he wandered over to check on her, just to be sure. “Kaylie?” he asked after knocking on the door. “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” she snapped out as embarrassment washed over her, knowing he heard her clumsiness, and for what she almost did. God, it had been a long time since the need to do that had hit. What had she gotten herself into, she wondered?
Drake quirked an eyebrow at her response. “Okay, well, holler if you need anything.” He was walking back to the living room when he heard the bathroom door open and the door to her room close.
Chapter 8
Kaylie hurried across the hall and closed the door behind her. Why was she embarrassed? Well, she’d almost been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. And why not? Why shouldn’t she? She was no shy virgin; she’d been married for 15 years. She’d had sex before. But, God help her, it had been too long since her body responded to something as simple as a kiss, to anything really. She had become so unhappy in her marriage and self-conscious about everything that, well, she thought her body had shut down; no big problem there because Brian had become so disgusted with her that the only time he touched her was when he hit her. God, she thought, it has been years since a man touched me; made me feel like this. She took a deep breath and, reaching over to check her phone, she saw that she had a text message from an unknown number. Unlocking her phone her eyes went wide with fear when she read the message:
You think you can get away without paying? You can’t hide.
Kaylie’s hands started to shake and her breath quickened as she read the message. It can’t be, she thought, as she dropped her phone. He should still be locked up. Who could be doing this to her now? Her eyes darted over to her suitcases, the only thought running through her mind, once again, was escape. She was pulling on her jeans and a sweater while gathering up her clothes when she remembered her car was stuck down the road, snuggled up to a tree. Deflated, her shoulders slumped; her eyes closed, and she sighed in resignation, “Damn it. How can I go anywhere in this weather with no car?”
Taking several deep breaths, she tried for calm before opening the bedroom door and stepping out to Drake. She hoped that she looked calm and normal rather than the crazy woman she suddenly felt like.
“Um, you haven’t heard any reports about the road conditions yet, have you?” She asked as she approached Drake, her eyes darting to the window, praying that a miracle snow melt had occurred. Anything, that would get her away quickly.
“Did you hit your head harder than you thought in the shower? There’s over three feet of snow outside and the temps are hovering well below freezing. The road conditions are, at this point, crap. Why? What’s up?”
“Nothing. I was just hoping to get to my car and get it to a shop as soon as I could. I, I need to get back on the road,” she trailed off, not looking Drake in the eye. Her answer, her excuse, sounded weak, even to herself. “I just need to get the car moved and fixed as fast and as cheap as possible.”
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your car is going nowhere fast. When I pulled you out of it yesterday, it was already buried under a layer of snow, and, in case, you’ve suddenly forgotten that lump on your forehead, you had it planted against a tree.”
“I hadn’t forgotten that, I was just hoping…“
“Stop lying to me, Kaylie. What has you spooked all of a sudden? If it was that kiss, I’ll apologize for spooking you, but not for kissing you.”
“What? No, of course it wasn’t the kiss. That was fine,” she rambled, “more than fine. I don’t remember telling you no.”
Drake grinned for a moment, “Then you need to tell me what has you suddenly itching to get away from me. What happened between then and now?”
Kaylie turned to walk away when suddenly Drake grabbed her arm and spun her around.
“Don’t!” she cried as she flinched away from him.
Drake’s eyes narrowed at Kaylie. Not letting her go, he took a deep breath, “Kaylie, stop it. I’m not going to hurt you. You know this. I need to know what has you so shaken.” He started replaying the morning in his mind, looking for what could have triggered this response in her. “You were fine before you went into the shower. You hit your head, and went back in your room when you were done. I’m drawing a blank here, honey. You’ve got to give me something, anything.”
He watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose, held it for a few seconds, then let it out through her mouth, calming and centering herself. When she opened her eyes he could tell that he had shut down whatever was causing the panic of a moment before.
“I’m sorry, Drake,” she started, looking at the floor. “I just had a momentary panic attack and I feel like I’m imposing on you. You were headed up the mountain when you discovered my car, thank you, by the way, again, for helping me.”
Drake looked up at the ceiling like he was searching for answers, or patience. “What does that have to do with this, whatever it is, that got you worked up just now?”
“Nothing. Or everything? This is just me, it’s how my mind works. It’s easier to just roll with it than question it. I promise to try and keep it all to myself in the future.” Kaylie knew she was a rambling but could not, for the life of her, shut up.
Inhaling deeply through his nose, he could smell his soap on her skin and his shampoo in her hair. His scent on her was intoxicating. He looked back down at her, at her closed off expression. “Look, we have no idea how long we are going to be stuck in here together. You’ll either realize you can trust me, or you won’t. I can’t make that decision for you. I can promise you I’m not your ex. I don’t hit women, but I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth. I can’t help you if you don’t let me. Now, I’m done talking about this. T
he choice is yours.” He turned and walked into his bedroom before shutting her out.
Kaylie stood in the main room of his cabin ashamed of herself. Habit had her flinching away from him even though her instincts knew that he wouldn’t hit her. God, how embarrassing to have done that, not to mention the insult she threw at him with that single action, and then keeping the truth from him. She couldn’t help it, she thought to herself. She had gone to her friends for help when the beatings from Brian had worsened, but no one would go to bat for her. His wealth, his status, his power, had all clouded the minds and vision of the people she thought would support and defend her. Closing her eyes to that line of thinking, she opened them and decided she needed to do something to keep her hands and mind occupied, while doing something that had always soothed her when she was growing up.
Turning, she walked back to the kitchen and started rummaging around in Drake’s cabinets, hoping to find inspiration and ingredients to bake. She wasn’t too hopeful, being in the house of a bachelor, and up in the mountains, but she looked anyway. Her face lit into a smile when she found ingredients for cinnamon rolls. She started pulling out what she needed, her presence in the kitchen bringing a hopeful Jenny in for company. The dog wandered over to the table and laid herself down with a doggie “oomph” as she settled in to watch for dropped treats.
Chapter 9
Drake had no idea what she was doing in the kitchen when he heard things starting to clatter. He was sitting down in front of his laptop, looking at all the hits he had gotten when he’d typed in a search on Brian. Drake skipped the pictures for right now, focusing instead, on what seemed to make this guy so important. A starter business, that turns into a sudden windfall with no explanation? Looking at his published wealth, Drake couldn't help but think something wasn’t right with this. He closed out that window and went up to the images.
Cold Heat (Seasons of the Heart #1) Page 4
