In a small voice, I say, “If I ask, will you tell me?”
“Probably not. But you’re going to ask anyway.”
“Where am I?”
“Beaufort, South Carolina.”
“Please don’t lie or patronize me.”
His voice becomes very soft. “I’m not, Serena. Right now, that’s where we are, in a warehouse in Beaufort. Soon we go to North Carolina to find the necklace. I will strive to be as forthcoming as possible with you. Now, what may I fix you to eat?”
“What do you have?”
“First let me see if this is even functioning.” He fiddles around with it and announces that it’s fine.
“What’s on the menu?”
He eyes me for a second and then says, “Trust me?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m starving. I’ll eat anything.”
I watch his fingers tap the buttons. A few seconds later, a piping hot meal that smells yummy appears on a plate, along with the utensils. He sits with me while I eat and the food is tasty. I have no idea what it is, but I can’t complain.
“Mmm. This is better than an Eggo any day.”
He smiles.
“Do you eat like this every day?”
“Yes.”
“What language is on that machine? That’s why I didn’t know what to do.”
His eyes bore into mine.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He gives no indication he heard me. He only continues to stare at me.
Time to change the subject. “So is it true? Am I not allowed to go into the room with all the computers?”
“Yes. It’s true.”
“Your men—they’re not happy I’m here, are they?”
“Not one tiny bit.”
“Yeah, I could tell. They about froze me out of the room with their looks. So what happens next?”
“Like I said, we go to North Carolina to find the necklace. We have to find it, Serena. It’s a matter of life and death.”
“Are you going to tell me why?”
“Eventually.”
“I have a feeling that I’m never going to get my life back. Is this true?”
He takes a deep breath and steeples his fingers. It’s then I notice how scarred his hands are. My eyes ping back and forth from his face to his hands. He observes. “I’ve been in my share of battles.” I suppose that’s his way of explaining. “Those things that tried to kill you yesterday? They’re going to keep trying. So right now, you have to decide what’s more important. Staying alive or going back to what you knew as your life.”
He makes a good point. Going back to my life wouldn’t be worth a damn if I’m dead.
“Serena, I need to ask you something.”
“What is it?”
“Do you have any family? Family that you wore the necklace around or might know of it?”
Shaking my head, I say, “No, never. Why?”
“Because if you had, they would be in danger, too.”
I rub my forehead. While I have no great love or fondness for my family, I certainly don’t wish them harm.
He takes my hand and I feel a zing all the way to my toes. What the hell was that? My head jerks up as I look at him and wonder if he feels it, too. But he only stares at our joined hands. He’s silent for the longest time. “I’m sorry your family is the way they are. They don’t see what everyone else does.”
“And what’s that? What does everyone else see?”
His dark eyes pin me and then he’s on his feet and out of the room before I can comprehend what happened.
Now what am I supposed to do? He left and I have unanswered questions. What am I to do all day? Which rooms are off limits? What do I do with the dirty dishes? Talk about a fish out of water. But like he said, I’m better off this way than dead at the bottom of the ocean.
Where did they put my things? I need to catch up on my emails and correspondence. I find my way back to the bedroom I woke up in. There’s a wall switch, so I turn it on, and the room brightens. Door number one was a closet so I open it up and see if my things are in there, but I only find men’s clothing. So whose room is this?
“It’s mine. Well, ours now. We thought it best to put you in here. There are only a few bedrooms and this is the only one with a bathroom,” Sabin says from the door. He walks in and closes the door behind him.
“I’m sharing a room, and a bed, with you?”
“Yeah.” He grins.
Um, no. While he is more than appealing, sinfully sexy even, this won’t work.
“Why not?”
“How do you do that?” I ask, referring to his ability to dig into my mind.
“I can do a great many things. You’ll find that out as you get to know me.” The inference isn’t lost on me.
“Look, Sabin, we can’t share a room. It’s too awkward. I just met you. Sleeping with you isn’t in the cards. You know?”
He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I agree; this is not ideal. And if this were any other place or time, this would not be happening. But the fact is, Serena, it’s not. We’ve been sort of thrown together without much choice. Now I believe we can act as adults and treat this as the situation calls for.”
He makes a solid point. “Okay. You’re one hundred percent right. We can do this. But can you promise me something?”
“What?”
“Give me time in the bathroom and warning so I’m not naked or anything.”
“What if I like you naked?”
“Don’t practice assery around me.”
“Excuse me?”
“An ass. Don’t be an ass.”
He laughs. “Serena, I’m an ass on most days. You’ll have to get used to it.”
“Okay, maybe I should stay with Rafe.”
“Be my guest. But I should warn you, he shares a room with Verus and there is no en suite shower. You’ll be sharing a community bath with six men. How do you think that will go?”
Hell to the big no I am not doing that. I’ll put up with Sabin’s assery before I share a community manroom. Not happening. The idea even grosses me out. Ew, I bet they never put the toilet seat down. And who knows how often their aim is off. Nope, my ass is staying right here.
He smirks. “Thought you’d see it my way.”
“What the fuck is up with that?”
“Up with what?”
I put my hand on my hip and tap my toe. “You know what. You always know what I’m thinking.”
The left corner of his mouth curls up, which I’m finding is common for him. But again, he gives me no answer. This is not a good thing for me. By nature, I’m a very curious person. I like to uncover things I don’t understand or don’t know the answers to. Living in ambiguous or unknown circumstances does not sit well for me. My brain revolts against this.
“This is not going to work. The better part of my brain is giving me hell for this. You have to understand something about me, Sabin. I’m a research scientist. Or at least that’s what I’m hoping to become. I uncover things. My life’s goal is to seek out answers to previously unknown questions. When you leave me hanging like this, it’s like sticking bamboo under my fingernails.”
“Why would I want to stick bamboo under your fingernails?”
“You wouldn’t. Or at least I hope you wouldn’t. It was an analogy. My point is I hate to be in the dark about things. Can you not understand this?”
“Yes. But there are certain things I am unable to tell you. It’s not that I don’t want to; it’s that I cannot. I wish it were different, Serena. At this point, you’ll have to trust me. Please trust me.”
He’s so sincere, I find myself nodding, even though I don’t want to. Gone is the irreverent ass that I’ve seen and now this soft-spoken, genuine man stands before me offering me this half-assed explanation. No, it’s not the best, but it’s the best he can give me, so I’ll accept it.
“I will, for now. I imagine you could’ve killed or raped me if you had wanted. But you haven�
��t. While I don’t exactly feel warm and fuzzy, I don’t feel threatened either.”
His brow furrows for a moment and then it smoothes again. He nods and says, “I will tell the men to treat you better. But you are not allowed in the sec center.”
“Sec center?”
“Security center.”
“Is there anywhere else that’s off limits?”
“Not really, though I’d stay out of the other men’s quarters. I don’t think they’d appreciate you going through their things.”
My mouth drops open and then I say, “I would never do that.”
“I know how women can be,” he adds.
I ball my hand into a fist and punch his shoulder playfully. His shoulder is solid. Like concrete. I rub my hand. “Damn, what are you, Ironman?”
“Hardly. Why did you do that?”
“Because all women don’t snoop around like that,” I huff.
He raises his brows, indicating he doesn’t believe me. “The ones I know do.”
“Then you need to get to know a better class of women.”
“You’re not kidding,” he mutters.
“Bad experience?”
“You have no idea.”
“We all have our crosses to bear.”
“It wasn’t a cross, it was a fucking …” he stops and gives his head a firm shake.
“What?”
“Nothing. At least nothing I care to discuss.”
Yeah, this man definitely has battle scars, and not just the physical kind. Something tells me there’s a whole lot buried in his head and heart.
Sabin evokes empathy within me. Perfect. Not only do I want him to fuck my brains out, I completely understand his feelings. Not necessarily about a lover, but I without doubt carry scars from the way I was treated by my parents. And though I try to hide it and deny it, they’re there and they hurt. Profoundly. This conversation needs changing, needs a little lightening up. “So, tell me Sabin, where’d you grow up? I know it wasn’t the South. There isn’t a southern bone in that body of yours.”
The look he gives me is not at all friendly and I don’t get it. One minute he’s all nice and soft, and the next, he breathes frost and ice.
“Not a southern boy. You’re right about that, Ms. Callahan.”
His use of my last name rattles me. “Ms. Callahan? I would think that since we’ll be sleeping together, we could at least be on a first name basis.”
“Listen to what I have to say, because I’m only going to say this one time. We are here to save your neck. Understand? This isn’t some little weekend getaway, or a little joy time where you and I chat and get to know one another. I have a job, my men have their jobs, we will do them, and hopefully succeed, so you can live. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly.” I clamp my jaws together. What the heck did I say to put him in such a pissy mood?
“Good. Now, I need to get some work done, so you can continue to fill those pretty little lungs of yours with precious air. Good day, Ms. Callahan.”
Jesus Christmas, what the heck just happened here? We were having a simple conversation and he goes completely psycho on me. Who the hell are these people? And how many times am I going to ask myself this question before I finally get an answer? The hairs on my neck shoot up and I’m not sure I like the way this is turning out. At all.
What the fuck did I just do? Could I have possibly been any more uncivil to the girl? All she did was try to make conversation with me. My stride lengthens as it carries me to the sec center. All eyes land on me as I enter.
“Well?” Rafe asks.
“Well, what?”
He grabs my arm and pulls me to the side. “Judgment Day? The girlfriend? Which one?” He fires off the questions, one after the other.
Fuck. I scrub my face and look at him. Then I march back out and head for the bedroom, but Serena isn’t there. However, the bathroom door is closed. I walk up to it and can hear the shower running. Excellent. Just excellent. Then she starts to sing. Or at least that’s what I think it’s supposed to be only it sounds more like an animal screeching in pain.
“Serena.” No response, other than her singing about swinging from a chandelier and tomorrow not existing. Fuck. Help me. I hope she doesn’t sing in her sleep.
I pound on the door and call her name again. Now she’s singing about holding on for dear life. No shit. Aren’t we all?
“Serena!”
“Ack,” she shrieks. “What?”
“I need to speak with you.”
“Crap. You scared me.”
Yeah, well let me tell you, sweetheart, what your singing did to me. “Sorry. This is important. How long before you’re finished?”
“Hang on. I’ll be out in a sec.” I hear the water turn off. Minutes later she walks out as steam pours into the room. Christ, did she use all the hot water? And how long was she in there? But then I get a look at her wrapped in nothing but that skimpy towel and the smartass comment that was hovering on the tip of my tongue vanishes like a wisp of smoke. And so does the question I was going to ask her.
I am mesmerized as I watch her squeeze the excess water out of her hair. “Do you by any chance have any extra towels around here? I took the only unused one I could find.”
Saliva pools in my mouth as I gawk at her lips. Yes, gawk. I ogle this woman and am incapable of tearing my fucking eyes away from her. She’s exquisite. Her porcelain skin gleams with beaded moisture and I swear to whatever god she worships, if I could lick every droplet off her, I would. I think my cock just moaned, because it’s about to rip a fucking hole in my damn pants.
“Sabin? I asked you a question.”
I want to fall on my knees, grab that towel, and bury my face between her thighs. Instead, I clear my throat. Not once but several times and swallow. Control. I need to regain control. How in the ever loving fuck am I going to spend one night in that bed with this woman and keep my greedy hands off her? Has anyone ever died of a boner before? I may be the first.
“Yes, I will locate more towels for you.” My voice is gruff.
“Thank you. And you wanted?”
Wanted? Other than to slam my cock into you and make you moan, what did I want?
“Yeah. Could you get dressed, please?”
“I can’t.”
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t know where my clothes are. They’re not in the closet.”
Where the hell did Rafe stow her things? “I’ll check that out. In the meantime, I’ll give you something to wear.” There’s no fucking way I can carry on a decent conversation with her only wearing that towel. My cock brain won’t allow it. I hurry to the closet and come up with a T-shirt and a pair of workout pants. “These will be quite large on you, but they’ll do until I can locate your things.”
She goes into the bathroom and comes back out swimming in my clothes. It makes me smile. Nothing, or hardly anything, makes me smile.
“You like?”
“Yeah. Very sexy.” She thinks I’m joking. But I’m not. Not even a little. Even in those damn things that are as big as a sack on her, she still looks like the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in ages. Maybe in my entire life. As much as I hate this, I indicate that she take a seat on the bed. Then I begin.
“You said the necklace was given to a friend that you’ve fallen out of favor with?”
“Yeah, stupid girl thinks I tried to steal her loser of a boyfriend. Now she won’t speak to me. I mean seriously, the guy is the biggest mooch, won’t work, lives with her, and I caught him stealing money out of her wallet. Then she gets mad at me.”
And this is what drives me nuts about women. “Okay, that’s all fine.”
She stops me with her arm extended, palm facing me. “What do you mean it’s all fine? There is nothing fine about that. At all. He was stealing from her. She had no right to be angry with me. She should’ve been happy that I caught the thief.”
“True, but that’s not what I meant. What I’m going
for is that for the sake of our situation, it doesn’t matter about her being angry with you.”
“Of course it matters. Now that she’s angry with me, I’m pissed at her.”
Right about now, my fuse, which is minute to begin with, is about to blow.
“I understand. I would be pissed, too. But can you put your anger aside for a second? We need to focus on the necklace, Serena.” Admittedly, my response is a bit testy.
“Okay. Fine.” Now she’s tapping her toe and that’s a bad sign. I’ve seen her do this before, when she’s not happy with things.
I inhale as much air as my lungs will allow. For some reason, I find I’ve been doing this a lot since Serena’s come into my life. Next thing I know, I’ll be taking yoga. “Okay, so what we need to know is who and where this friend is. We need to get to her and get the necklace back.”
“Well, good luck with that.”
Snap, there goes what’s left of my patience. “What the hell does that mean?” My voice booms.
“Whoa there, cowboy. Calm your rowdy ass right on down.”
Cowboy? Rowdy ass? Before I even realize it, my fingers wrap around her biceps and I say, “Listen to me you silly little girl. You don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on here. Those things that attacked you underwater, the Shaurok, will find your friend. They want that necklace, whether or not you choose to believe me. And if they get to her before we do, they will shred her little body, along with that loser boyfriend’s of hers, to pieces. My men are trying to save your friend’s ass.” By the time I finish, my face is up into hers and I’m yelling.
In a tiny voice that trembles, she says, “You’re hurting me.”
Ahh, fuuuccckkk! I instantly release her. “Christ, Serena, I apologize. Let me see.”
But it’s too late. She backs away from me, scooting across the bed like a wounded animal.
“Serena, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Right. That’s what all men who abuse women say.”
Shit. Now she thinks I’m an abuser. Great. This is going exceedingly well. As good as it can get.
“Serena, I don’t …”
“You know, I think I liked it better when you called me Ms. Callahan.”
“All right then, Ms. Callahan.” If that makes her more comfortable, then I’ll call her whatever she wants. “I was only trying to make a point with you and I guess I got carried away.”
Sabin, A Seven Novel Page 6
