Steal Me (Longshadows Book 1)

by Natalia Banks

  But he’s only inches from death in another house with another person keeping him safe from me.

  How the hell did my life go to pieces in the space of a few hours?

  A sudden knock at the door startles me. I glance over as it slides open and Kyle’s kneeling at my side. “Do I need to call someone?” he asks in a low voice, his eyes studying me.

  “I’m okay,” I gasp out, realizing how tight my chest is, how much pain is lapping at every nerve ending in my body, how my lungs feel like I’m sipping breaths of liquid fire. “I need my purse,” I whisper, mortified that he’s here, witnessing this breakdown. Nobody watches me have panic attacks. Well, not knowingly. They’re shameful, I hide out of sight for them. I refuse to let people know this is a thing I deal with.

  But Kyle is on his feet and gone before my cheeks light on fire with shame. He’s back as quickly, my purse in hand. Without hesitation, he digs in while placing it beside me on the floor.

  “Which one?” he asks, then before I can answer, he pulls out the blue bottle and reads the label. “This one?” he asks, and I nod, realizing that he’s a vet and has a passing knowledge of medications.

  He pops it open and offer me two – as the label says – and is gone again, this time getting me a glass of water from the kitchen. I swallow the pills dry and he offers me the glass of water to chase them with.

  I drink the entire glass, then tilt my head back to rest on the wall as I watch him. “How did you know?” I ask, hoping to divert my attention from the breakneck speed of my heartbeat, the faintness turning my every limb to jelly, or the trembling of my hands and legs.

  “Symptoms,” he says simply, jerking his chin toward my hands.

  “Do your dogs and cats act like this when they’re having panic attacks?” I ask dryly. It’s meant to be a joke, but I just sound like a bitch.

  To my surprise, his lips curve slightly upward. “Training service dogs, remember?”

  I nod. It makes sense. He’s around people who have PTSD and panic attacks, flashbacks, and likely a whole spectrum of reactions. Maybe I don’t look like a total freak to him. Maybe I’m just like the other broken-minded people he helps.

  “My dad-” I whisper, the unwanted words just escaping my lips like a captured bird taking flight for freedom. “He hated me. He’d drink too much, he’d hurt me.” As the humiliating whispers fill the space between us, a strange change takes over Kyle. His spine snaps straight, his brows become dark slashes over his blue eyes, and his whole face becomes impassible granite.

  And I know.

  Like a PTSD sufferer sees themselves in the eyes of a similarly suffering stranger, I know he’s got his own trauma. Perhaps it’s not exactly the same as my own – obviously his outcome is nothing like mine – but he’s got something simmering behind his eyes that feels like I’m looking in a mirror.

  I was wrong about him. I was all wrong. Totally wrong. He’s not a silver-spoon sucking, daddy funded, affluenza sufferer.

  No, he’s got his own damn demons, and they’re eating him up as much as my own do. And with a blink, he shuts down and closes me out.

  Chapter 12

  Kyle

  Morning comes painfully. But Sentinel is showing promise. He’s lifting his head, perking his ears at me when I talk, and he’s sniffing in Jax’s direction while still doing his best to ignore him. After I take Jax for a walk, I come back to a standing – though trembling – Sentinel whining at the back door.

  So I let him out. The back is enclosed. He can’t escape. I’ll just make sure to keep a close eye on him so I can be sure he’s not running or getting rough. But he’s not into all that jazz. Nope, he quickly relieves himself then sits right outside the mother in law apartment.

  Inside, I see nothing.

  But I can see him from the kitchen window, so I go inside to make some breakfast. I’m not feeling the ritual of eating, so I decide on smoothies. I got some beautiful strawberries yesterday, some bananas, and I’ve got chia seeds for protein and omegas. Plus a few other odds and ends, I’ve got a good thing going.

  I make an extra, certain my housemate will be hungry this morning too. Out the window, I see Sentinel just sitting, waiting for his owner to notice him. It’s sad, really, but I know she’ll either see him or I’ll wrangle him back in to bed soon.

  And, as if hearing my thoughts, she slides open the door and falls to her knees before her stoic dog. Then he licks her face and I know she’s crying. She throws her arms around his shoulders and her pretty brown eyes meet mine. I lift my drink in a silent toast to her and she gives me a little nod before squeezing her eyes closed and clutching her dog like he’s the only thing in the world she cares about.

  I hear Jax saunter in and look down at him. He’s staring up at me, ears perked. “Don’t even think about it,” I tell him and he tilts his head at me. “I’m not cuddling you like that.”

  I look again at Victoria. Her hair is wet and she’s dressed again in her tight black leggings and the pretty maroon sweater she’d been wearing the day before. Fuck. I should have offered to go get her truck last night. It totally slipped my mind that she might need some of the stuff in it.

  As she rises to her feet, I feel an odd stutter in my chest. She lifts her chin and the sun paints her face in golden beauty and lights her hair up like liquid gold. Her gaze meets mine again, and I’m struck at how Sentinel circles behind her legs and walks beside her, his gate totally normal as he keeps her pace without touching her, but close enough she could grip him if she needed.

  And it dawns on me that whatever happened yesterday that made him run, he had a reason. He’s not an unruly animal. He’s obviously well behaved. Something else must have been happening. She slides the door open and I hear the command in her voice as she talks to him.

  “Bed, now.”

  She walks around the counter and I offer her the smoothie. I watch her face as she sips it through the thick straw I’d found for her. She seems unsure at first, until the drink hits her tongue.

  “This is really good,” she says, seemingly shocked as she peers into the cup like I’d done some clever bait and switch on her. “Not too sweet, not to sour. Yum.” She smiles and the whole world lights up with the expression.

  “Want to go get your truck?” I ask, and she seems shocked.

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She continues drinking her smoothie.

  I pick up my keys. “Whenever you’re ready. I’d like to keep Sentinel for a while longer if that’s okay with you,” I pause, but she doesn’t seem upset by my words. “He seems like he’s doing really good, but I’d hate for him to over extend and pop his stitches. Plus, I’ve got antibiotics to keep him on so he doesn’t get an infection from that gash.”

  She nods, studying me even as she continues plowing through her breakfast.

  I almost feel bad. She’s obviously hungry. And there’s nothing in the mother in law. “I have a bit of work to do today. I got a call first thing about a horse, I need to go shopping, you know the drill.”

  She nods, her expression shifting. And she finally takes a break from her smoothie. “Can I come with?” she asks.

  Surprise fills my being. “For what?” I ask, wondering what I missed.

  She arches an eyebrow at me as if she’s thinking I’m playing stupid with her. “To the horse.”

  Oh. Oh! Of course. She’s a woman. Women like horses, right? “Sure,” I say, not seeing any harm coming of it. It’s a routine thing; I stop over and check in on the animals for several farms on the outskirts of the city.

  But the Parkers haven’t scheduled, so I need to go drop in and see how things are going.

  She finishes her drink and sets the glass on the counter with a look of triumph. “Done. Ready to go.” Then she halts, her eyes focused on something I can’t quite see. Her whole attitude changes and I see it happen in real time. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice halting and haunted. “I’ll wash it,” She says, taking her cup to the sink.

&nbs
p; Thinking quickly, I grab her shoulders, whisk the cup out of her hands and focus on her eyes. “Come back to me, Victoria,” I say gently, holding her with care and trying to keep a kind, positive note to my voice.

  Suddenly, her attentions snaps back and it’s like someone flicked on a light switch. I know she’s seeing me. But there are tears gathering quickly and I pull her into a hug, my heart aching for this damaged, sweet girl.

  Chapter 13

  Victoria

  On the other side of the counter I hear Sentinel whimper, but I tell him again to go to bed. It feels… good to be wrapped up in Kyle’s arms like this.

  It’s over much too quickly.

  He pulls back and I try to keep the sting of shame from paining my cheeks red with a few deep breaths. How did he know? I mean, the flashback was real, like I was back home, watching dad point to the cup with his belt in his other hand, his breath reeking of booze and the knowledge of how much pain I’d suffer in the face of such a minute thing, as not washing a glass.

  Because when dad was drunk and got started, he didn’t stop.

  How many broken bones had I written off as being a clumsy person? How many times had doctors or nurses asked me if someone was hurting me at home even as I turned a falsely bright smile their direction, knowing that telling anyone would make it a million times worse?

  But now, with Kyle close and not passing any judgment or looking at me like I’m a victim or some poor, broken girl, I feel safe.

  “I’m ready,” I say as I walk over and grab my purse off the table. “Can we take Jax and Sentinel?” I ask and he looks at the dogs, then at me.

  “To get your truck or out to the horses?” He asks.

  “Out to the horses,” I say, not wanting to bother Sentinel for the quick trip to my truck.

  He’s stoic as he answers. “Sure.” There’s something off about him, some guarded look in his eyes that’s bothering me. But I decide to give him his space and let it go. He’s got his own shit to deal with and I’ve got mine. Who am I to get pushy?

  We head out to his car with Jax hot on our heels. “He heard his name,” Kyle says as if that explains everything. And it does. Jax is well mannered, keeping pace with his owner again without a leash. Even when a car goes down the main road with a yappy little dog barking its heart out, he merely watches his owner for the next cue.

  “He’s so well behaved,” I marvel as we stop at the car. Jax stops and waits at the door behind mine and I open it for him. He hesitates, like a good service dog.

  Kyle’s order is sharp, his voice harsh as he says, “In.” Jax’s reaction is instantaneous; he is in the back seat before I can even see the movement. I close the door behind him and get in the passenger side.

  We’re quiet on the drive, not because there’s nothing to say, but because we don’t feel pressured to fill the silence with small talk. It’s an amazing sensation to simply share space and companionable silence with someone.

  We pull into the parking lot and my heart stops in my chest. My truck is nowhere to be seen.

  “Did they tow it?” I ask, unable to believe my bad luck.

  But Kyle doesn’t answer. He pulls his phone out and dials. “Hey,” he says, his voice cold, “Did you guys tow a truck?” he asks. I stare in shock at the empty spot as he rattles off details. Remarkably accurate details. Right down to my license plate number, make, model and year.

  “Yeah.” I hear them talking on the other end, but can’t make out the words. “I see.” He sounds displeased and I hear the quick change in tone on the other end. There’s an apologetic sound that’s obvious even when the words are not.

  “I appreciate it,” he says, his voice only a tad bit warmer. He hangs up and looks over at me. “It was towed. But you’re free to pick it up in a few hours.”

  The thought of someone going through my things, touching my stuff, freaks me out. Everything I own – the precious little that is – is in that truck. And there’s a rather large amount of cash stashed. Well, not large per se, a few thousand dollars. Everything I’d been able to stash before running away. It’s the money I’m going to start over with.

  “So what would you like to do until then?” he asks, and I look over at the store. Just yesterday I’d been here. I’d left a healthy Sentinel in the truck and went in to grab something to eat. Everything has changed in such a short time.

  “Let’s go check on that horse,” I say, feeling lost as we head out of the parking lot. There’s nothing I can do. And that powerless feeling is enough to rip me apart inside. But what can I do about it?

  We head back out and are back in front of his house in only a few tense moments. “We’re going to take the work truck,” He says, heading into the lot of the vet office.

  “Do you have other work today?” I ask, skipping to keep up with him and Jax.

  “Not unless someone calls. I do most work out of office, house calls and such,” he says. I’m fascinated, but the nagging worry crowding my mind keeps me from engaging further.

  What if they go through my truck and steal the cash? It’s not like I can prove I had it. Or that they took it.

  I follow Kyle to the passenger side of the lifted truck and he opens the door for me. “In you go,” he says, offering me his hand. I take it as he opens the back of the cab and orders Jax in. He closes both door and heads off toward his place.

  In a few moments, I see him walking patently beside a limping, obviously tired Sentinel. I watch my dog walk, seeing the long gash along his side. He’s in such rough shape. I should have let him stay home. I’m being cruel dragging him along like this.

  Kyle opens my door and the back door and pulls forth a blanket. He’s quick to fold it and place it in the extra space at my feet. Then he helps Sentinel in, lifting him carefully under the haunches in in front of his chest, well clear of the broken ribs.

  Sentinel settles down and places his head on my toes while I talk to him. It’s heartbreaking how tired he it, how sore he looks, but how devoted he is.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling the hot sting of tears. He’s quick to lick my knuckles as I pet him, and I feel Jax nuzzling my shoulder.

  Chapter 14

  Kyle

  I hook up the trailer, giving Victoria some time to herself with Sentinel. I know it can be rough to see an animal you love in such rough shape. But it could be so much worse. Sentinel is really doing incredibly well.

  And while the pain meds will keep him from feeling too much pain, I’m also trying to keep his doses somewhere between totally loopy or passed out and alert. I have a feeling that it’s better for her to see him in a little tiny pain but very much alive.

  And the pain isn’t more than the soreness we’d feel if we worked out. A bit of a dull ache, but enough that we feel it. I need to find a good balance for owner and animal. Which is odd; generally I’d only care what the animal needs. I push away the thought. With Sentinel up and awake, he’s acting like a mostly healthy pup. Which is a great sign.

  I have a feeling once he heals up you’d never even know he was seconds from death. And I’m never going to tell Victoria how close he came. Or that Jax is a fucking hero. Without his blood and the immediate care he received, Sentinel would be a goner.

  Heading back to my seat in the truck, I’m greeted by Jax loving on Victoria who’s silently crying and loving on Sentinel’s velvety ears. It’s a touching scene and I can’t help myself. I snap a quick picture with my phone and ask her for her phone number.

  She tells me and I text her the image. Her face lights up as she sees how cute it looked to see big ol’ husky Jax hanging over the seat and resting his nose on her shoulder as she leans forward enough to love on Sentinel.

  “Thank you,” She whispers, studying the picture as I get in and buckle up.

  “I think you have a new admirer.” I tell her as Jax keeps contact with her even as she sits up and pulls on her seat belt.

  “I guess so,” She says and I keep reminding myself that she’s goi
ng to leave. I need to dissociate. We pull out onto the road and she looks behind us.

  “Why the trailer?” she asks.

  “In case we need to move the animal to treat it here.” It wouldn’t be the first time. I’d rather have it and not need it than not have it and need it.

  As if reading my mind, she says, “Hope for the best prepare for the worst.”

  “Exactly,” I say, wondering how she does that. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever been around. When she’s this near to me, I feel a faint echo off her like our souls are using sonar to find one another.

  I’m obviously going fucking crazy.

  On the long drive, she turns on the radio and flips through station before settling on some upbeat pop rock song. She sings along and I open the window a bit to let the fresh air in for the dogs. Suddenly, Jax’s nose is on my shoulder as he sniffs the wind like crazy.

  “Aww,” Victoria says, looking over at him. “Traitor.” Her lips lift in a bright smile and she lifts her phone to snap a picture. She texts it to me, but I’m not going to look while driving.

  When we pull into the driveway I feel her tone change. She’s quiet, and I know why. The place seems… empty. I drive up right before the house and park. There’s no sign of activity and I get out to quickly walk the place.

  And I see the horse; Molly. She’s pitiful. A bag of bones, her hips jutting out and every rib plain to count.

  I pull out my phone and call the non-emergency police number right away.

  As I give the details needed, I see Victoria walk up to the fence, offering a hand to the mare. But the mare is too tired to even walk and instead, lies down.

  Not good.

  Victoria’s eyes meet mine. They’re wide, troubled, and I know she knows it’s dire. But she’s holding it together. She’s poised to help. I hang up with the dispatch and call Emma.