Veils: A Killers Novel, Book 4

by Asher, Brynne

  He takes my hand and turns, pulling me and my suitcase along. “By myself, two years ago. Which is why I know it can’t be done on an empty stomach—not if you want to walk it. Let’s go get a waffle and some chocolate.”

  I speed my steps to keep up with his. “And coffee.”

  He gives my hand a squeeze and my insides mimic the action. “I remember, Gracie.”

  “And I have an early flight in the morning. I can’t miss it.” I’m not sure why I tell him that, other than, at this point, I’m betting against myself and am sure Noah Jarvis will be the one dropping me off at this exact spot in less than twenty-four hours.

  “Know that too.”

  I look ahead and give up. “Of course, you do. You pulled my file, whatever in the hell that means. You know everything there is to know about me, don’t you?”

  He finally gives me his eyes, and this time, they’re not smiling at all. “Not everything, Lover. Still have a lot to figure out on my own.”

  “I’ve got news for you, Jarvis. You’re not going to do that over waffles and sightseeing. I’m only giving in because I’m tired, need coffee, and I’m sort of freaked out to walk around the forest by myself but I really want to see it.”

  When he pulls me through a crowd, he looks down and this time I get a smirk. “You’ll be surprised what I can learn over waffles. Just think about what’ll happen if I throw in some chocolate.”

  “Belgian chocolate,” I murmur and tell him the truth. “I might give up one secret if you can find me the good stuff—the darker the better.”

  “Deal.”

  And my day just took a turn. When I stepped off the plane just thirty minutes ago, I was ready for a soul-searching journey for one. Adventures that would push my boundaries and force me to grab hold of the independence I need.

  But here I am with Noah Jarvis. And I should be more upset that he’s butting into my well-crafted plans that took me way too long to get up the nerve to carry out. Because, when it gets right down to it, I’m too tired and hungry to be upset with him. There might be other reasons, too, but I refuse to claim them.

  Yet.

  Chapter 7

  Fake Memories

  Gracie

  How can you miss someone you don’t know?

  I lost my mom when I was little. And I mean really little. I don’t have a single memory of her and very few pictures of us together. I was the fifth child my parents had within the span of a decade. I guess no one has time to take pictures by the time the fifth kid is brought into the mix.

  All I have are the memories Grady and my older sisters have given me. I’ve added to them and built her up in my head to be perfect—because why shouldn’t she be? Lord knows, I had very little perfect in my life growing up.

  When I’d close my eyes at night, I’d create the most beautiful fake memories.

  Her reading to me. Her brushing my hair. Her teaching me to cook and getting dirty with me while making mud pies in the backyard in the summer and snowmen in the winter.

  They might be fictional but they’re all I have. They’re made of fairy tales and unicorns and sprinkles so sweet, they’d give me a stomach ache in real life. And they’re as close as you can get to perfection because real life in the Cain home was about as far from that as you can get.

  Maria Cain died when I was barely eighteen months old. She had breast cancer, and from the way my aunt described it when I was old enough to understand, she was too busy having babies and nursing them to notice a change since her boobs were ever-changing anyway.

  You’d think that would be the worst of it. That a family with five children losing their mom at a young age would be tragic enough, but no. Our father couldn’t handle us on his own and missed his wife. Sometimes I wonder if he even tried or if he just gave up. Because my only memories of the real-life parent I had was of a drunk, angry, bitter man who didn’t want anything to do with the family he created after he lost the love of his life. He was weak—the most pathetic kind of person a human can become. The only solace to his depressing life of raising a brood of kids on his own was found at the bottom of a bottle.

  His sadness turned into anger and that turned into alcoholism. He took it out on us.

  All my life, I was conditioned to the effects of how substances can control you. I lived it—we lived it. It might not have been Grady’s normal, or even Raine’s or Peyton’s. They’re the oldest and remember what it was like before life took a turn to the dark side.

  They said they lived two lives.

  Before she died.

  After she died.

  Holly and I are the youngest and we only knew the after. That after was my normal, until even our horrible normal turned into a tragic tale.

  I always hated everything Disney. Those movies were nothing but sad train wrecks—some insipid Prince Charming saving the day, creating a stupid happily ever after that would never happen in la-la-land, let alone real life. Well, Walt Disney had nothing on the Cain family as far as train wrecks go. Ours was stellar, only without the enchanted ending. Our ending was more along the lines of thank God we made it out alive.

  Literally.

  To avoid our father, we’d run into the woods behind our home. Grady would carry me piggyback with our sisters in tow, and he’d take us far into the forest where reality evaporated, even if just for a few hours. We didn’t care about bugs or critters or creepy-crawlies. We’d run and play until we got tired and then lie back on the ground where I’d dream, gazing up, where the tips of the trees tickled the heavens that were dotted with clouds. The branches were black, eerie skeletons topped by the softest greens where the sun filtered through. I remember how the rays warmed my skin, so mesmerizing, it lulled me into a lovely trance I’d happily lose myself in all day.

  Or maybe forever.

  It’s not too unlike what I’m doing now as I’m lying on my back at the base of the over two hundred years old beech tree forest, staring into the unknown. Only I’m not in Ohio. I’m in Europe. And I’m not with my brother and sisters, but with my brother’s friend and the man who seems to know everything about me but still hasn’t ditched me like a bruised banana. Which leads me to believe he really knows nothing.

  I guess I’m still running, just like we did all those years ago when we were little. My therapist told me it’s okay—but she’d say everything was okay—and that I’m too hard on myself, and everything would be okay.

  “You okay?”

  I sigh and watch a bird fly off the tip of the skeleton I can’t tear my gaze from. How easy it is for that little creature to escape. I’m jealous.

  When I don’t answer, I feel Noah’s thick bicep flex at my neck, bending his arm at the elbow when he brings his hand to my hair, fingering the ends in a way that feels familiar and intimate.

  “You do the same job my brother did when he ran away from us?” My question comes out of the blue that’s as bright as the sky and I can tell I’ve surprised him. His body was as relaxed as mine two seconds ago, but now it’s tense.

  “Ran away?”

  When I roll my head to look at him, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust from staring into the midday rays. We’re so close, his breath is silk on my skin.

  “Grady ran away from us. I’m sure he doesn’t see it that way, but he did. He needed something and the Army gave it to him. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame him. We don’t know a lot about his job now but I can tell it was an escape for him in the beginning. I thought maybe it was for you, too.”

  He looks back up into the unknown we’ve both been lost in for a while. After coffee and the best waffles I’ve ever experienced in my life, he stocked me with more chocolate than one person deserves in a lifetime, and brought me here. We hiked for hours before finding this quiet spot off the trails. I told Noah I wanted the trees to swallow me up for just a minute. When I laid down to look up at the sky, he followed me to the floor of the earth—covered in brush and leaves—and forced me to rest my head on his shoulder, but re
spected my quiet. Until now.

  The Sonian Forest is more breathtaking than promised and I could lie here for the rest of my life and be content. And Noah was right. It would’ve been sad not to share this beauty with another.

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have asked.” I don’t know what I was thinking. The less I learn about Noah Jarvis, the better.

  I feel his chest rise with a breath. “When your brother approached me, it came at the right time. I was a different person then and wasn’t dealing well with life. Working for your brother has taught me that shit happens at inopportune moments, and even though it happens to us, it’s our responsibility to take it by the horns and make something of it. Change can’t happen sitting on your ass.”

  I shift to lean up on an elbow to look down at him. “Are you sure you’re talking about you or are you trying to make a point to me. Because if you’re talking about me, I just want to point out that I’m the one taking charge of my life and trying to do it on my own. You’re the one chasing me around the world, butting in on my journey.”

  “You see me as butting in.” His hand reaches for my hip and he pulls me flush to his side as he gives me a ghost of a smirk. “I see it as my wanting to get to know a woman who made me come more times than I ever have in one night and I could’ve kept going. I also want to know what that woman is running from and why she’s dead set on me only being a hook-up.”

  I stare down a beat before I settle back into him, pressing my front to his side and resting my cheek on his shoulder. His thick arm cages me in and his hand lands on my ass. “I’m not running. I’m chasing.”

  His retort is immediate. “Semantics.”

  “It’s different,” I insist.

  “If that makes you feel better. You still won’t find what you’re looking for in Uganda.”

  “Who says I’m looking for anything?”

  “Everyone’s looking for something.”

  I’m not used to this. No one but my therapist has been this direct with me and at least she did it in a nice way. My siblings just beg me to stay close to them and be happy. Someone arguing with me while their hand is on my ass is a very new thing.

  I give his rock-hard abs a squeeze. “You seem to have all the answers.”

  I feel the timbre of his deep voice vibrate in my ear. “Fuck, no. I don’t have any answers. That’s what I’m chasing.”

  This surprises me and I try to move so I can look at him but his arm around me tightens. I’m about to ask him what he’s searching for and why he thinks he’s going to find it working for Crew. Even though Grady has never given us the details, I know it’s a lonely job—one that might be rewarding financially but is taxing in every other way a person can be levied. I saw it in Grady every time he would come home to visit us, which wasn’t much. Little by little, he changed. It was only when he met Maya that we felt like we got him back again.

  I don’t want to argue for the simple fact I don’t want him to push me for answers. Instead, I lower my voice to a whisper. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Noah, and soon. Don’t waste years of your life like my brother did.”

  This time it’s his turn not to answer and I feel some of the tension in his muscles dissolve. We lie like this for too long. Not the way I had planned to spend my day in Europe, but I have no desire to move. For the first time in a long while, my spirit is content.

  I don’t know how much time ticks by, but I hear leaves crinkle and lips are pressed to my hair. “Wake up, Lover.”

  I blink my eyes open and pull in a breath. “Sorry. I haven’t gotten much sleep in the last few days.”

  Noah pulls me up his chest and over him, my legs falling to either side of his hips, not an unfamiliar position and it takes my mind back to our night together in Virginia. He runs his hands down my back to my ass, then my thighs, where he yanks them up his sides. “Who’s the asshole keeping you from your beauty sleep?”

  It’s hard not to smile over my yawn. “He’s persistent but he buys me chocolate so he’s only sort of an asshole.”

  He lifts his hips and I feel his cock through his jeans pressing into my sex. “You hungry?”

  My eyes widen. “For what?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope. We’re a one-nighter. Don’t think you’re going to get me back into the sack so easily. I was talking about dinner.”

  “We just had a huge breakfast.”

  “I’ll walk you around the Grand Place and we’ll find something to eat. If I let you nap any longer now, you’ll never sleep tonight, and you shouldn’t assume I’m going to wear you out again.”

  I shake my head. “I have a reservation at a hostel and it’s a twin. No room for you, Jarvis.”

  His expression turns serious. “You’re not staying in a hostel. I have a place booked and there’s not only room for you, but we could throw a party if we wanted. You’re staying with me. It’s close to the Grand Place and I can take you to the airport in the morning.”

  The effects of very little sleep for the last forty-eight hours are setting in and I don’t have the energy to argue. I need sleep since I have a layover in Rwanda before going on to Entebee. It’ll be another long day and I can’t meet the volunteer team when I’m drunk on exhaustion so I admit, “I’m really tired.”

  Noah rolls, stands, and pulls me up with him. “You need to stay awake. Let’s walk and then find dinner close to the hotel.” Not waiting for me to agree to his plans for my first day in Europe, he pulls a bottle of water out of his backpack and tosses it to me. “You need to see the lake before we head out.”

  I don’t even try to cover my yawn as I crack open the bottle and down half of it. Noah shrugs his backpack up his shoulder and heads back to the trail I made him venture off of. And I realize he was right. I’ll never forget today and experiencing it with someone else.

  Noah glances at me over his shoulder. “You coming?”

  Watching my one-night stand walk away from me—the man I know so intimately but still don’t know at all—I decide I’m grateful. So, I move my tired muscles. “I’m coming.”

  * * *

  Jarvis

  I grab my beer before heading back into the bedroom of the suite when I hear the shower flip off. Getting Gracie to stay with me was easier than convincing her to spend the day with me. I had her exhaustion on my side and she hardly argued, which was good because she wasn’t staying in a hostel.

  As I’m digging through my bag, the bathroom door opens and she walks out in nothing but an oversized T-shirt that hits the middle of her thighs and a towel wrapped around her head. When she catches my eyes with her tired ones, she tosses her things down on her suitcase. “Okay, so I’ve never stayed in a hostel before, but I did see pictures on the internet. You win when it comes to travel accommodations. There’s no way I could afford this place, but after the last couple of days, I’m very happy to have experienced that shower.”

  I set my beer on the nightstand and don’t comment. Hostels aren’t terrible. I’ve stayed in a million over the last few years because sometimes it’s all that’s available. But I also make a shitload working for Crew so when I don’t have to stay in one, I don’t.

  But I don’t admit any of that because she doesn’t know exactly what her brother did for a living which means she has no fucking clue what I do and I’m not about to spill that information tonight. Instead, I walk past her, run my hand along her hip, and give it a squeeze. “There’re drinks and food in the minibar. Help yourself. I’ll be fast.”

  She shakes her head as she puts a knee to the bed and flops in the middle. Her ass cheeks are peeking at me from a small pair of panties and she buries her head in the pillow when she mumbles, “I’m stuffed. I can’t eat another thing. You’re a big guy, I can’t keep up with you in the eating department.”

  I head to the bathroom because if I don’t turn away from her, I’ll climb in right behind her and convince her to stay awake for one more hour since it’s still early. But
I’ve got traveling and sight-seeing to wash away first.

  As the hot water falls down on me, I wonder about Gracie Cain. On paper, she’s not complicated. She lives a simple life—work, family, very few friends. But the real Gracie? There’s nothing simple about her and as much as I’ve tried to convince myself to let her go—to be the one-night stand she wanted me to be—I’m not sure I can do that.

  Besides the men I work for and occasionally seeing my mother to make her happy, I don’t have people. Haven’t since I left the Navy. I like the autonomy of my work, and despite my disposition and lack of patience, I’m fucking good at what I do.

  And nothing else has piqued my interest outside of this life for a long time.

  Until two nights ago.

  And it’s all I can do not to jack off right now to the woman half-asleep on the other side of the bathroom door. I didn’t think I could crave her more than the night I met her at a wedding reception, but I do.

  The more time I spend with her, the more I want her. I want her pussy, her mouth, her time, and her thoughts. I’m surprising myself even more, because my need for her right now is not in that order.

  Not after today.

  And I don’t jack off for the simple fact I don’t want to lose any more time with her. I flip off the water and run the towel over myself before wrapping it around my waist.

  “You need anything, Lover?”

  She’s still lying on top of the covers and has hardly moved since she mumbled her last words to me.

  “Gracie?”

  Her back is rising and falling with every breath—slow and even. She’s hiked a knee and pulled a pillow to her chest, and despite dozing off today pressed against me on the bed of the forest, to actually see her sleep for the first time is odd. I didn’t think it was possible for her to look smaller, but she does, and I realize I find her to be a conundrum.

  Strong, but not.

  Vulnerable, but not.