He took a step toward her now, his gaze holding hers, refocusing on getting her out of his system once and for all. He reached out and rubbed the ends of an auburn curl between his fingers. “You give any more thought to my deal?”
She scoffed, flipping her hair aside. “You had your chance. Twelve years ago.”
He smiled ironically. “And me thinking you wanted to wait until you were married. My bad.”
She stared at him. “Excuse me?”
He went for the jugular, as much to get under her skin as to keep himself in check. “I was just thinking about how some other lucky man was your first.” When it should have been him.
She went pale, but her chin rose. “Yeah, some other lucky man.”
“Who was it, Delaney?”
“Vic, so help me God—”
He dropped the smile and advanced on her. “You used to say you loved me. That you were meant for me and no one else. I guess those were just lies.” He felt his anger rise to his throat, heard it come out in his voice. “So who’d you give yourself to instead of me?”
She shoved past him, stalking off toward her Jeep.
He was right on her heels. Hell, no. She was not getting off that easy. He caught her arm and swung her around. “Why did you leave?”
She gaped. “Are you kidding?”
“Dead serious. One minute we’re getting married, and the next you’re on a bus for Austin.”
She shook her head. Laughed humorlessly. Then she glanced at his truck. Pointed surreptitiously at Zach. “That’s why I took off.” She stared him down. “Come on, Vic. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out exactly when he was conceived. You didn’t miss me for very long.” She smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Oh, right. You didn’t miss me at all. You were too busy with Miss—”
“You left!” he bellowed as he slammed his hand against the side of the Jeep. “Without a word to me, but apparently plenty to your parents. I was pressuring you?” His words spilled out, too fast to stop. “Your folks spread that little nugget all over town. And yet I distinctly remember you were the one with your hand down my pants that night.” He loomed over her, and despite the old anger spewing from him, suddenly all he could see were her scared eyes, like a deer’s doe-eyes, caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. His anger slipped away as he squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them.
“You lied, Delaney.”
“Vic…” Her voice grew cold. Controlled. “What happened between us back then doesn’t matter anymore—”
“The truth always matters.”
Her cheeks turned crimson and she swallowed.
He dropped his gaze to her lips. To her neck. “Don’t you ever wonder…”
She held perfectly still. “What?”
He moved closer to her. Ran his thumb across her jaw, barely resisting the urge to kiss her, right here and now. He warred with himself, fighting the urge to make right all that had gone bad between them, desperate to rebuild the protective wall inside him. He had Zach to protect now. His livestock. The piglet.
His heart.
The words came out anyway. “What it would have been like. Between us. If we had made love.”
She spun away, her hands fumbling to open the driver’s door of the Jeep. “N…no,” she said. “Never.”
He knew she was lying.
“Mm-hmm.” He backed off, gratified. She wanted to deny it, but she still felt him, just like he still felt her in the deepest part of his soul. “Well, I sure as hell do.”
She glared up at him as she slid into the vehicle. But it didn’t quite mask the flash of uncertainty in her expression.
“You can make it up to me,” he said. “Let’s finish what we started and all will be forgiven.”
“Forget it. It’s in the past.” She stabbed her key into the ignition.
He smiled and cocked his head. “Doesn’t have to be.”
She stared determinedly at the steering wheel, as though afraid to meet his gaze. “We can’t go back, Vic. We can’t change what happened. Or what should have happened.”
She cranked the engine, and he headed for his truck, calling over his shoulder. “No. But it would give us both closure.”
He got in his truck and drove down the driveway. He looked back and saw Delaney, Jeep still idling, hands still gripping the wheel, eyes still focused downward.
No, they couldn’t change what happened, but if they didn’t do something—talk, yell, screw till they both passed out from exhaustion—they’d be stuck in the past, both of them, always wondering what they could have had. What it would have been like to be together.
And what it would take to move the hell on.
Chapter Eight
Dusk settled around Delaney as she left her parents’ ranch house and walked across the gravel drive to her Jeep. After finishing at Jasper’s with the mare and foal in the morning, she’d put in a full day at the clinic caring for the sick and recovering animals. Now, freshly showered and no longer smelling like horse, dog, and antiseptic, she was ready to face Carmen.
Last night she’d started to tell her friend about that night so long ago. About her darkest secret. Her deepest hurt. She wanted to unburden herself, confide in someone she trusted. And hope that Carmen could still look her in the eye without pity. She’d chickened out, only telling her part of the story, leaving out the worst part. But now, she couldn’t keep it in any longer.
She stared at the tree that had been on her parents’ property forever and wished she had a chainsaw to cut the damn thing down. The tree should have withered and died like the others around it had during the blight in the mid-eighties, but it had survived, even with the burden of a thick, heavy, link chain encased under its living bark. She and Vic had given it the name the Chain Tree. It was the place where they always met. Where they were supposed to have started their new life together. This tree had once been the symbol of love and of hope and of the future.
Now the tree was an awful reminder of the love that had evaporated in a single moment.
A reminder of violation. Of pain.
Of betrayal.
“Evenin’, Del.”
Delaney jumped, dropping her keys in the dirt. She flung her palm to her chest, then wheeled around. “Alan! Dammit, don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Sorry.” He smiled crookedly at her. “Thought you heard me comin’.”
“I didn’t. Lost in my own thoughts, I guess.”
“I heard you last night…”
Her body went cold. “Oh?”
“That old bed of yours rattles when you turn in your sleep.” His smile twisted. “Must have knocked your arm or something the way you were moaning.”
Her cheeks heated, her gut twisting. Alan came and went from her parents’ house like he owned the place. He had to have been right outside her door to have heard her. Heat spread through her as she remembered what she’d done while she’d fantasized about Vic.
Alan leered at her as if he knew everything. God, she had to get out of her parents’ house. Maybe she should stay in the guest cabin on her parent’s property instead of the main house—get some distance from Alan. And from the memories. Maybe staying in her childhood room—the room where she’d been raped—was what was triggering the sleepwalking. She fingered her bracelet, wishing she could go back in time and fix all the things that had gone wrong, starting with that awful night.
Alan clutched his Texas Rangers cap in one hand, knocking it against his leg. “Where you off to so late?”
“Going to see Carmen.” She needed a drink after her run-in with Vic earlier, the birthing of the foal, and her utter exhaustion. Whiskey. But just one. She’d learned her lesson.
Alan looked at her, unblinking. “Well, now,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “You take
care, then.” And he sauntered away, throwing a sidelong glance at her.
A shiver crawled through her. He was more intense than he used to be. God, he gave her the creeps. She felt like on top of everything else, she couldn’t take another intrusion from Alan.
“He stares at me,” she used to complain to her father.
“It’s just his way,” her father would always say. “He’s a good young man. Goes to service every week, respectful. He’s like a son to me, Del. Try to get along.”
And jealousy had flowed through her. She’d been caught sneaking out with Vic one too many times and had brought shame to her church-going, God-fearing parents. Alan never had. He filled a void for her parents that she couldn’t. Would you choose him over me? she’d wanted to shout time and again. But she couldn’t. She feared the answer.
Delaney shook off thoughts of the unpleasant ranch hand as she scooped her keys out of the dirt. She and Carmen had been planning to drive out and visit Esperanza—so Delaney could ask the curandera questions—but now she was having second thoughts. And third…
Did she really want to hear those answers, either?
God, she was a mess.
Her mind in a jumble, she climbed in the Jeep, her fumbling fingers jamming the key into the ignition, turning the engine over and kicking the vehicle into drive. She raced away from the house, pressing down on the accelerator, taking the turns at a faster speed than was smart.
Vic. Sheila’s child. A past she wanted to forget. Her sleepwalking. The curandera’s veiled threat. Something evil hunting her. Alan’s weirdness.
Vic.
She drove faster, wanting to outrun her past. And her present. To skip straight ahead to some unknown future date when everything was good.
If only that could happen.
The next turn came suddenly. Headlights blinded her. A horn blared like an air raid siren and a blur of white came right at her. She cranked the steering wheel, jerking the Jeep back to the right side of the road. But she overcompensated and landed on the shoulder.
The peal of the horn faded as she slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop. Her heart jackhammered in her chest. Dropping her forehead to the steering wheel, she closed her eyes, trying to calm down. Black and white spirals circled in the dark, nausea spinning through her. Moments passed, fleeting, she was sure, because she could hear the steady churning of the river in the canyon below—but somehow the moments felt like an eternity. Then heavy pounding sounded in her ears. Her heartbeat.
The driver’s door jerked open and a man’s voice came through the ether, asking, “Can you get out?”
She moved her head, trying to nod, trying to tamp down the feeling that she was spinning out of control, and scrambled to place the familiar voice.
Getting out would be easy, but she didn’t think her legs would hold her upright once she did. She made herself stretch her legs out, refusing to give in to the irrational fear that had taken hold of her. The man caught her by the elbow as she stood. She willed her legs to work. And looked up.
Oh, God.
Vic. Naturally.
Her knees buckled and she sank down, but Vic’s grip tightened on her arms and he held her upright. “Laney! Are you hurt?”
Confusion muddled her brain. “I’m fi—” The words caught in her throat. She tried to focus. Her vision grew clearer and her hearing came back. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, I can see that. You’re real steady on your feet,” he said sardonically. “Why the hell were you driving so fast? You could have killed us both.”
“Sorry,” she said.
Her mind reeled, caught off-guard by the strength of his hands and the leanness of his body as he drew her closer. Stunned by the instant comfort he provided.
She pulled away, breaking the hold he had on her. Vic made her uneasy with his slumberous eyes and his arrogant, mildly amused expression. He’d asked to be friends? She didn’t think so. A man with that look on his face only wanted one thing from her.
“Why were you driving like a maniac?”
“My hand slipped.” She sucked in a deep breath, chastising herself that she couldn’t think of a better excuse. Her nerves were almost back to normal. She peered up at him for a moment, taking in his darkly handsome features. His Anglo blood gave him his height and build and his blue eyes. But his Latino heritage gave him his natural grace and innate sensuality. The combination was—
Suddenly it hit her. Wait. Latino. He’d grown up speaking Spanish, and had probably heard of— “Chupacabra,” she blurted out. “What is that, anyway?”
He drew back, his brows pulling together. “What are you talking about?”
“Chupacabra. It’s a Spanish word, right? For what?”
After a slight hesitation he said, “It’s nothing. Just a legend.”
A tiny spiral of relief went through her. At least it didn’t mean ax murderer.
Although… She dredged through rumors she’d heard in her teen years. Now that he mentioned it…wasn’t there something about a beast in the night, and blood, and animals…? She tried to piece it together, but the old stories kept mingling with her own nightmares, her sleepwalking, and the knowledge of all the dead animals being reported.
“Okay, that’s it.” Vic folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at her. “What the hell’s going on with you?”
She snapped back to the present. Damn. “Nothing. Just tired,” she said. She ran her hand over her face. Focus. She redirected the conversation back to what she could handle and made another stab. “Someone mentioned that word recently, and I was just wondering what it is.”
He paused again, as if deciding whether or not to answer. “It means goat sucker,” he said at length.
Goat sucker? Gross. “So, like some kind of animal, or…?”
He laughed, shaking his head.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded, jamming her hands on her hips.
One eyebrow cocked. “Chupacabras aren’t real, Delaney. It’s just a story.”
Of course. He’d said that. What an idiot she was. Goat sucker. Hah. “So then what’s the story?”
He leveled his gaze at her. “Why? Who mentioned it?”
There wasn’t a single reason not to tell him at least part of the truth. “Esperanza.”
His face grew wary. “She just happened to mention chupacabra to you? What, in casual conversation?” He shook his head. “Give me a break. The woman barely speaks English.”
Pushing her hair back, she nodded slightly. “I know. It’s just, I saw her and—”
“When?” He stood up straighter, his interest suddenly heightened.
“After I left El Charro last night. She was outside.”
“And you talked to her?”
“More like she talked to me. She knew who I was. Said something about a—a chupacabra, and warned me to be careful.” She gave a strained laugh. If the thing wasn’t real, it couldn’t be after her, right? How dangerous could that be?
“It’s a myth, Delaney. A legend. There are other things you should worry about. Not that.”
She swallowed, her gaze dropping to the ground. “Okay. Good.” So why was he acting so weird about it?
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
She shrugged, trying not to squirm under his intense gaze. “We were busy with the foal, and Zach was there, and…” Oh.
He seemed to sense that she didn’t want to talk about old legends anymore, and let it go. Or maybe he was suddenly remembering this morning, too…
His breath against the cold air came out in white puffs. Something between them shifted. Became charged with a whole different kind of tension.
“Been thinking about the deal?” he asked.
Her pulse fired up at the low tone of his voice. S
he licked her lips, dizzy from the sudden change of topic. And the way he was looking at her.
God knew, she was tempted. But she couldn’t accept. He would only bring her misery.
Wouldn’t he?
Still. She could test the waters. A little flirting, maybe a kiss. Or two. There was always the possibility that actually kissing him wouldn’t make her feel a thing, and then she wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. Sort of like his purge theory.
And it would get her mind off of Esperanza’s haunting words.
Uh-huh.
He watched her, and his voice grew dangerously seductive. “Ah, you have, haven’t you, Laney? You’re thinking about it right now. I see those wheels turning.”
Now or never. She cocked her head to the side. “I’m curious.”
“About?”
Instead of answering, she advanced on him, taming down her racing heart with sheer will. She’d been so young last time they’d kissed. So innocent. Would it be different now? Was any hope she had of physical pleasure with him ruined by their history?
Either she wouldn’t feel a thing or she’d want desperately to sleep with him. She wasn’t sure which to wish for.
One eyebrow arched as she came closer, and his smile turned faint.
She put her hands on his chest, sliding them up to his shoulders. He was taller than she remembered. Do it, she told herself. “We were so long ago. So much has happened since then. I don’t even think we fit together anymore. I guess you’re right. Might as well find out now, and stop the madness.”
“I’m game,” he said, his smile quirking.
“I gathered.”
She stretched up, tracing her thumb over his lips. Soft, supple lips. Her eyelids fluttered, matching the aching flutters that spread inside of her. Oh, God…
Was she really going to do this?
Gently, she put her lips against his, tasting him, slowly at first, then faster. Harder. Her kiss grew urgent, deepening before she could stop herself. They still fit perfectly. A shiver of anticipation wafted through her body as she slid her hands to his neck, let her fingers brush his jaw, felt the bristle of his evening stubble.
Sacrifice of Passion (Deadly Legends) Page 7
