Verum

by Courtney Cole

  Without realizing it, I leave myself wide open and Dare grins.

  “You know I’m good at riding everything.”

  He says everything in the most provocative way I’ve ever heard and he does it on purpose, to get a reaction from me. I swallow hard.

  “I’m sure you’ve had no complaints,” is all I say and he glances at me.

  “About last night…” he begins and I roll my eyes.

  “I’m sure you have to start many conversations with those words,” I interrupt.

  He smirks again.

  “Perhaps. But seriously, I do apologize. That wasn’t in good form. You weren’t ready to kiss me again, and I shouldn’t have forced it.”

  What a British thing to say. Something about it, and his accent, sends my heart into somersaults.

  “I liked it,” I admit quietly, and the words are out before I can take them back or hide them.

  He’s clearly pleased by my answer, so I add, “But it doesn’t change anything. I still need space.”

  Even though I want you more than ever.

  His face clouds over and we fall silent. Finally, I can’t take it anymore and ask the first thing I can think of.

  “Do you like it here?” I ask as we guide our horses onto the quiet lane outside of the driveway. Their hooves make clipped sounds on the cobbles, and I decide that I’m quite good at this.

  “No,” his answer is immediate and short. “You?”

  “No,” I sigh.

  “You should get used to it. It’s where you’re from,” is all he offers.

  I sigh again.

  “You don’t like riding, do you?” he asks now, more polite than interested.

  I shake my head. “No. I feel bad for the horse. Why should he have to carry me around?”

  Dare chuckles, then leans forward, digging his heels into his horse. “You can’t weigh more than eight and a half stones. He doesn’t even notice you, I’m sure. But follow me.”

  He trots ahead, then begins a slow canter. My horse does the same, and I hold on for dear life, my heart racing from the thrill of it. Dare leads me back to the stables.

  “We’ll ride something a bit more fun.”

  I stare at him in confusion as we dismount and hand the reins to the groom.

  My eyes widen as I follow Dare to the garage, and we stop in front of a sleek black motorcycle. I should’ve known he’d have a bike here.

  But the English countryside is wet and the roads are curvy, and I’m hesitant.

  “Do you know how many people have passed through my dad’s funeral home because of motorcycle accidents?”

  And I’d have to wrap my body around yours, holding you tight.

  I can’t.

  I can’t.

  I turn around and start to walk away, but Dare grabs my elbow.

  “Come on, Calla. You’ve got to live a little bit.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” I tell him as I turn back around. “I won’t live long on the back of that thing.”

  He grins his freaking dare me grin, though, and I know that I’m a goner. It sets a fire in my belly because it’s real. It’s like I can see a tiny bit of his old self shining through, and I can’t resist that. He sees it on my face and grins even wider.

  “You need a helmet. There’s an extra in that cabinet.”

  He points to the wall, and I retrieve the helmet, and I put it on with shaking fingers.

  We’re roaring down the road a few minutes later, and I have my arms wrapped around Dare’s strong body.

  Within seconds, I’ve decided that this is Heaven.

  I’d forgotten how good this feels.

  I rest my cheek against his shoulder, and we blow through the gates of Whitley.

  The wind hits my cheeks, the seat vibrates beneath me, and Dare’s back flexes as he balances the bike. I’ve never felt so exhilarated in all my life.

  The countryside around us is beautiful, dotted with flowers amid all the green, and I watch it blur as we ride faster and faster. I don’t even feel afraid, and I know I can attribute that sense of well-being to Dare. He’s an expert at riding this thing, and I’m safe behind him, even on the wet and winding roads.

  We don’t go far though, before he slows the bike, and we pull onto a gravel road leading to a pond. It’s remote, it’s quiet, and I have no idea what we’re doing.

  So I ask.

  Dare offers his hand and helps me off the bike.

  “You’re going to live.”

  I arch an eyebrow hesitantly.

  “I’m living right now,” I tell him.

  He shakes his head. “Not really. Come on.”

  For a reason I can’t explain, I willingly follow him, regardless of my hesitancy, and the way my cautious side is throwing up red flags left and right.

  Dare stops on the edge of the pond, and unbuttons his pants.

  I freeze in place as his trousers pool around his feet and he steps out of them. His muscles form V-shaped ribbons that disappear into his underwear. I know where they lead. I look away, my cheeks flushed.

  He immediately strips off his shirt, tosses it onto the bank, then stands in front of me in black boxer-briefs.

  My heart ricochets against my ribcage and I can’t help but stare.

  His abs form individual striations, ripped and strong. His biceps bulge and then blend into the leanness of his arm, and I have the sudden urge to trace all of it with my fingers, like I have a hundred times before, so I ball my hands into fists.

  “What are you doing?” I struggle with words, but finally manage.

  “Swimming.”

  He turns and heads into the water without flinching from its cold temperature. I suck in a breath because he’s got that freaking tattoo on his back, spanning across his shoulder-blades. Black words that read: LIVE FREE.

  I’m a goner. A freaking goner.

  “There’s a pool at Whitley,” I call out to him. “And I think it’s heated.”

  Dare laughs and dives under the water, coming right back up, shaking droplets out of his hair.

  “It’s not as fun.”

  “Why is this fun?” I have to ask. Because the water is cold, there’s bugs, there’s mud.

  Dare stares at me drolly. “Because we’re trespassing. This isn’t our property.”

  This surprises me and gives me pause.

  “The owners don’t know you’re here?”

  “Nope,” Dare answers, unconcerned, back-pedaling away from me, without taking his eyes off my face. “Does that scare you, my little rule-follower?”

  His little rule-follower.

  “Again, I ask you,” my voice wavers a bit. “Why are you suddenly being so nice?”

  He shrugs, his shoulder bare and glinting in the light. “Because you’re mine, Calla. You just need to remember it. Now come swimming.”

  “I don’t have a suit.”

  “You don’t need one.”

  I counter and he parries.

  My whole life, I’ve been a rule-follower. I’ve done what is expected, I’ve taken care of my brother. Maybe… just maybe….

  Before I can change my mind, I’m pulling my shirt over my head and shoving my pants down. Without looking at Dare, and with my face exploding into tomato red flame, I follow him into the water in my bra and panties.

  It’s cold enough to take my breath away, or that might just be my exhilaration at breaking the rules. I can’t be sure.

  “Have you come here before?” I suck in a breath around chattering teeth as I paddle in Dare’s direction.

  He nods. “Plenty of times.” I don’t want to ask who else he’s brought with him.

  “And the owners have never caught you?”

  He grins. “Oh, they’ve caught me. But I can’t be tamed.”

  I giggle at that, at the matter-of-fact way he said it.

  I start to grow accustomed to the cold temperature and my teeth stop chattering.

  Dare swims back and forth a few times, t
hen treads water while he observes me. Oddly enough, and probably because the water keeps my body hidden, I don’t feel self conscious.

  “I think you’re a closet rebel,” Dare announces. I have to laugh at that.

  “Not hardly,” I admit. “I’m terrified right now that the owners of this property are going to find us and call the police.”

  “First, we call them coppers here,” Dare explains with a snicker. “And second, you don’t seem to understand the power of your name yet. Savages can do anything they like around here.”

  “But you don’t consider yourself a Savage,” I remind him as I tread water. Something akin to warmth floods his eyes, and his mouth tilts up in the crooked grin that I am beginning to love. When he’s not smiling, I wait for it to appear, like an addict waiting for a fix.

  “I fall under the same umbrella, though,” he tells me. “At least, for outsiders looking in.”

  “Did you know that you speak in riddles?” I ask him in annoyance. He dives under water without answering, and within two seconds, he’s grabbed my ankle, pulling me under with him.

  I struggle and twist, but he pulls me down, down, down, and then I’m against his wet hard body and suddenly, I don’t want to struggle anymore. I don’t want to push him away.

  Not by a long shot.

  His body is both strong and lean, cold and warm. It’s very hard, and I’m held against it, reveling in it, soaking it in. He’s angles and muscle, strength and grace.

  He’s moving against me, his hips, his hands.

  His fingers glide fluidly against my skin, creating friction even beneath the water.

  I’m on fire.

  The warmth spreads from my arms to my legs to my belly.

  It’s a wild-fire, and suddenly I’m quite sure that he’s the only thing that can put me out.

  Together, we float to the surface, still intertwined. We break through the top and I suck in a breath and Dare is staring into my eyes.

  There’s tension here, but not the bad kind. It’s the kind that ignites you, the kind that intoxicates you, the kind that once you taste it, you’ll crave for the rest of your life.

  I’ve forgotten that I was going to be careful, that I was going to reject him on every level.

  All I can remember, all I can focus on, is how very alive Dare DuBray is making me feel in this moment, how alive he always makes me feel.

  For a girl who has been surrounded by death her entire life, this is a very big deal.

  “I’m a little afraid of you,” I blurt honestly, and Dare still has his arms around me. Our treading water motions keep our legs rubbing together, the friction still there.

  Hot,

  Hot,

  Hotter.

  Dare smiles, but there is no humor in it.

  “Good.”

  “Why?”

  My honesty makes me seem innocent, but I don’t know how to play games. I have no experience with the opposite sex at all.

  “Because that makes you feel something.”

  But he’s hesitant now and he looks away. There’s something he wants to say, it’s balanced on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it.

  “What is it?” I ask softly. “Just tell me.”

  He wants to, I can tell. His secrets are killing him. He just wants to be normal, he’s just acting out a role.

  I don’t know why I feel like I know this. It’s just there, suddenly resting on my heart.

  “You don’t have to be someone you’re not,” I murmur quietly. His dark eyes snap up to mine and he pulls his hands away. There’s something in his eyes now, something guarded, and our easy afternoon has come to an end.

  “What makes you think I am?” he snaps. “Pretending to be something I’m not, I mean.”

  I’ve somehow annoyed him, and I don’t answer because I don’t know what to say.

  “I’m not being someone I’m not, Calla,” he says coolly as he strides from the water. “I’m being who you need me to be. We’ve both experienced loss. You just can’t handle yours.”

  I’m stunned because he’s normally so patient, and I’m dripping wet.

  “We don’t have towels,” is all he says when I follow him. My clothing soaks up the water and it is a very cold ride back home.

  Dare doesn’t say another word and I leave him in the garage.

  I don’t see him at dinner, and I don’t see him the rest of the night.

  But as I lay in bed around midnight, I see his car leave the garage.

  I don’t see him come home, and I’m awake for half the night waiting.

  I have no idea where he goes when he slips away.

  Somehow, I think he wants it that way.

  There’s a fork in the road and even though I see it, I can’t avoid it.

  One road goes left, one goes right, and neither of them ends well.

  I feel it in my bones,

  In my bones,

  In my bones.

  I sing a song of nonsense, and it sings back. The notes echo and twist in the air, and I swallow them whole.

  “Come out,” I call behind me, because I know they’re there.

  I can’t see them, but they’re always watching.

  Eyes appear, blood red, and they blink once, twice, three times.

  “I can see you,” I announce and there’s a growl and then I’m crushed beneath the dark, beneath the weight, beneath the oppression.

  “You don’t scare me,” I lie.

  There’s savagery here, there’s grace.

  But above all, there’s oblivion and no matter what I do, I will be sucked into it.

  I know it.

  I feel it.

  I’m crazy.

  And it doesn’t matter.

  I’m the rabbitrabbitrabbit and I’ll never be free.

  Chapter 16

  For some reason that I can’t explain, I’m holding my breath, waiting to see if Dare comes to dinner.

  He does.

  Dressed in black slacks, shiny black loafers and an oatmeal-colored soft shirt. He wordlessly moves across the room, sits in his seat, and places his napkin in his lap.

  I look at my plate, remembering the way his hands touched me yesterday, the way I’d wanted it, the way I can’t forget how he makes me feel.

  My cheeks flush and I take a bite. They’re both staring at me, or at least it seems that way.

  “The fish is delicious,” I finally offer, without looking up.

  I think I hear Dare smile. My discomfort probably amuses him.

  “Adair.”

  Eleanor’s tone makes it sound like she just ate a persimmon.

  “Yes?”

  I look at Dare and it’s easy to see that he can’t hide his disdain.

  “Play for us.”

  She commands him like a monkey, like he’s expected to jump when she beckons, which of course he is. We all are.

  Wordlessly leonine, he walks to the piano in the corner. Sitting at the bench, he gracefully does as he’s told.

  The song he plays is something sad and dark, which is perfect, because that’s the mood I’m in. The notes brush my cheeks, play with my hair, and then fall limply onto the floor when he’s done with them, after he strokes each of them from the keys.

  I watch his hands and I can’t help but remember yesterday, the way those same strong hands skimmed my wet body, tracing my curves. I can’t help but remember how I’d let him touch me, how I’d folded into him.

  I know I wouldn’t have resisted if he wanted more.

  But then he didn’t.

  I feel like I’m a lamb, and he’s a wolf. But at the same time, I feel like he doesn’t want to be. He’s caged, when he should be wild, and I don’t think he knows what to do about it.

  The room is silent as we listen to his song, and I’m more emotionally charged by the minute. My past wells up in me, my present, my future. None of it looks good and then the music stops and my emotions pause.

  Dare pushes the bench back, and he walks straight for me
. My heart pounds as he bends, his lips close enough to graze my neck.

  I remember those lips. The way they feel soft, yet firm. The way he tastes of spearmint.

  “You smell like apples.” His whisper is low. I close my eyes for a scant second, because an apple is what destroyed Eden.

  I open my eyes.

  “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. This is just so goddamned hard for me.”

  I know.

  God, I know.

  “Meet me in the garden tonight and I’ll make it up to you. Midnight.”

  I glance up at him and I’m brave, but my bravery will get me eaten. Whether he wants to be or not, he’s a wolf.

  And I’m a lamb.

  Dare walks away, because it doesn’t matter to him what anyone thinks.

  Dare does what he wants.

  He lives free.

  * * *

  Midnight comes quickly.

  I swing the gate open and tread inside among the night lilies, evening primrose and moonflowers. This garden is filled with things that are vibrant during the day and opulent at night. It is a small piece of paradise in the middle of a frightening place, and my mother had loved it. And so do I.

  “Hey.”

  He’s here already, and he lingers in the shadows, so at home in the night.

  It reminds me of something my brother scribbled in his journal.

  Nocte liber sum. By night I am free.

  Am I free here with Dare?

  “Hey,” I answer, internally commending myself on my eloquence. “You’re early.”

  “I wanted to be ready.”

  His voice is velvet, and it wraps around me like a blanket.

  “What do you want with me, Dare?” I ask him honestly, because at the moment, I don’t know. He’s hot and cold, a distinct puzzle and I can’t put him together.

  “I can’t do this anymore, Calla. It’s too hard to watch you, to stay away from you….” his voice trails off. “We’ve been through so much already. Don’t do this to us now.”

  “So again, I ask you, what do you want from me?” my words are simple, and I don’t know what I’m doing.

  Like always.

  “That’s a loaded question,” he tells me as I approach and he watches my body as I move. I swallow hard because his expression is heavy and dark, and it’s meant for me.