Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  He might not be riding to her rescue right now, but he was coming back. He had to be. But in the meantime—

  In the meantime, she still needed help.

  Lucy said she’d come, a frightened voice inside her head insisted, surely she’s on her way?

  You would have heard from them, if they got stuck, another voice spoke soothingly. They would have called you if there was a problem.

  But Scout knew better. Something had happened. She just couldn’t let herself dwell too much on why she thought so, or what that something could be. Since she’d been back in Oberon, some of her wildest guesses had proved too uncannily correct.

  Premonition. Intuition. The words hovered, unspoken and largely ignored, in the back of her mind. But Scout refused to acknowledge them. She was not turning psychic, damn it. She was just scared.

  She stood at the French doors wrapped in the down comforter she’d dragged off the bed, trembling with cold, with nausea, with fright, staring out at the bleak seascape.

  She watched the waves assault the beach; sliding swiftly over the sand and then, just slightly more slowly, slipping back. Again and again and again. She was too isolated, here on the coast, that was the problem. She was cut off from help.

  Marsha and Lucy could very well be on their way, but she couldn’t wait for them to get here, or for any help that might come from town. She needed someone who was already here. Needed someone close to hand, with a vehicle that could navigate through whatever mess the weather threw at them.

  Someone like Ryan, perhaps?

  Relieved that she always carried her address book with her, and still counting the minutes until the next contraction hit, Scout headed for her phone.

  * * * *

  Ryan stirred. The ringing of his cell phone roused him from his gloomy contemplation of the building in front of him. A faint ray of hope touched his heart as he pulled the phone from his pocket. He’d seen the blinds on the window swing back into place, a few minutes earlier. He knew Siobhan had been watching him watch her. Maybe this was her now, calling to say come inside and get warm? Or maybe she would try and order him to go home. But either way, he’d still have a chance to talk to her. He’d still have a chance to say... something that might change her mind about what had happened last night.

  Yeah, right. Keep dreaming, moron, he thought as he looked at his phone, cause it’s not gonna happen. His eyes registered the unfamiliar number and he sighed. At least not right now, it wasn’t.

  He was a patient man, Ryan reminded himself, and not one to give up without a fight. But that still didn’t make it easy. Gloom settled in his heart again, as he answered the call.

  * * * *

  The heart thumping, blood pumping, adrenaline powered sound of Guns N Roses blasted from the Jeep’s CD player, and Tim couldn’t keep his leg from bouncing excitedly in time to the beat. This was it, damn it. Ten years of planning and playing, of teasing and torment, were finally coming to an end.

  And, man, oh, man, what an end it was going to be!

  The crash of the surf, the driving force of the rain against the windows just added to the excitement building inside him. Today was the day. He could feel it, almost taste it, and he just couldn’t wait. He’d be ripping Siobhan’s heart in two today, all right. That was for damn certain. And that would just be for openers.

  Shivers of excitement raced through him, leaving him dizzy.

  He had to slow down. He couldn’t let himself get swept away. He had to stay calm, keep his cool and maintain control. He didn’t want to rush this. No, he was in the mood to take things slow today. To take his own sweet time and savor every moment. To make the most of every last minute they would share.

  Because after today, there’d be no more.

  Shit.

  The thought of it really being over, of his having to start all over again with someone new, was almost enough to change his mind. But as he trained his binoculars on the parking lot once more, he felt anger and determination stir and harden within him.

  When the Jeep had been gone for two days he’d thought that maybe she’d learned her lesson. That maybe she’d come back to her senses – sent the bastard away. But that was just an act, wasn’t it? She’d been playing games with his mind again. Same as always. For that reason alone he had to punish her, make her pay. For that alone... he had to end it. Now. Today. Before she had the chance to make a fool of him again.

  He felt a hot flood of triumphant anticipation fill him as he watched the other Jeep race out of the parking lot. Yes! It was about fucking time. Tossing the binoculars on the rental’s passenger seat, he turned the engine on. The music paused, and then roared back to life.

  Yeah, it was times like these that pushed him to the brink, all right. He smiled as he felt his excitement rise even higher. Fuck, but he was getting excited now. He felt like a schoolboy with his first hard-on.

  It had been a long time since he’d seen her. Touched her. Talked to her. Taken her. A long time since he’d gotten up close and personal, and fucked the living daylights out of her.

  It had been way too long, he realized with sudden dismay. He frantically tried to stem the flood of memories, but it was too late. Lust, hot and horny rushed him, and made him squirm. Made his breath come way too fast, too hard, too sudden. Then he shuddered, twisting in his seat and nearly driving off the road as the heat – magnesium bright, thick as molten rock – seared him inside out; blinding him, soiling him, leaving him limp.

  Voices shrieked and howled derision in his head. Rage and shame burned his face and sliced his mind to ribbons. Jesus, look what she’d done to him now, the cunt. This was all her fault. All of it!

  He slid into the parking space the other jeep had recently vacated and jerked to a stop. It took him a moment to get his breathing under control. To get his power back. To find the cold, hard, still, black center of his soul.

  It helped to realize how fucking smart he’d been again. It had been yet another stroke of genius renting a vehicle just like the one he’d seen parked here too many times in the last couple of weeks. Anyone noticing his car here today, would jump to exactly the conclusion he wanted them to.

  “And it’ll serve you right, too, you motherfucking son of a bitch. Maybe next time, you’ll think twice about who you mess with.”

  Not that there’d be a next time, of course. He choked back the laugh that crowded up his throat as he thought about that. Thought about that cock sucking bastard spending time in prison for murder. Or, better yet, being fried.

  He wondered how he could wrangle an invitation to the execution? That was one show he surely wouldn’t want to miss.

  Like so much else he’d missed, over the years.

  Ten years he’d been locked out! Cut off from what was rightfully his. Shunted aside. For way too long. Now it was time to go home. Time to come inside. Time to show the little bitch just how much he’d missed her. One last time.

  “Count your stars, sweetie,” he sighed happily. “I’m back.”

  He turned off the engine and reached into the glove compartment for his driving gloves. He drew them on slowly, flexing his fingers several times to enjoy the soft, supple feel of the leather. They were perfect for his purposes. A birthday present from his daughters.

  He allowed himself to pause for yet another moment while he relished the irony of that. And oh, wasn’t that delicious? They were so thoughtful, his daughters. His little girls. Thoughtful and sweet, innocent and pure. Just like their mother. Not! And they could never have guessed how he would put their gift to use.

  How soft they would feel on her neck. He stroked his own face, to better imagine it. Soft and sweet as a kiss on the cheek. And how firm, as they squeezed – not too hard. No, not even hard enough to stop her breathing. Not all at once.

  Just firm enough to impede the flow of blood from her brain. Just firm enough to make her whimper and squirm as fear lit up her eyes; silently begging for a reprieve she knew would never come.

  S
he’d know, because he’d tell her so, in a voice as soft as his touch. In tones as slow and sweet and soothing as the ones she’d used back when she was nursing their daughters.

  Back when the bitch knew who she belonged to.

  His hands tightened into fists again, and he swallowed hard. It would feel good—looking into her eyes as the blood exploded in her brain. It would feel good watching her die, watching as she gave up her life to him, just as easily as she’d once... but no, he couldn’t start thinking like that again. Not yet, anyway. He needed to control himself. To stay focused. To keep his sights set firmly on his target. His target. His.

  There’d be time for the other later, after she’d gotten over the shock of seeing him again. After he’d made her smile for him and kiss him hello. After he’d made her tell him how much she’d missed him. And how sorry she was that she left him.

  There’d be plenty of time for them to get all re-acquainted and cozy together. It just might take the whole fucking day, in fact. Until she’d had her fill of him.

  And this time he could not control the laughter that slipped from his lips. Her fill of him. Man, that was a good one.

  He was still smiling as he pocketed the keys and stepped out of the Jeep, out into the rain. He was ready for this. So ready, it wasn’t even funny. It was time to get the party started.

  “It’s show time.”

  * * * *

  Siobhan pulled the corner of the blind aside and glanced out at the parking lot again. Still there. Damn him, why couldn’t Ryan just go on home? Was he really going to sit out there all day? That much damp could not be good for his leg and— Shit. There she went again, worrying about him. The big jerk.

  Disgusted with herself, she dropped the blind, heard it swing and hit against the window frame, tap, tap, tap.

  The dog gave a sudden whimper of alarm.

  “Hey, easy, girl, it’s just the blind,” Siobhan soothed, and then a trickle of fear, cool and thin, ran down her spine. It wasn’t just the blind. Someone was quietly crossing her porch.

  It took a moment of panic before logic suggested an explanation. Ryan. It had to be him. Probably he’d seen her looking out the window, and had taken it for an invitation. And maybe it was.

  Maybe – just maybe – she’d overreacted last night. He wasn’t the first man to betray her, after all, only the latest. And on a scale of one to ten, his defection hardly counted at all.

  The dog whined again, her agitation more apparent with every minute that passed.

  “Calm down,” Siobhan told her as she headed for the door. What was he doing out there anyway? Maybe he planned on sitting on her porch now? Well, that would be even more childish of him, wouldn’t it? Sitting on the porch, in the rain, until what? Until she went out and chased him away? Or until she felt sorry enough to let him in?

  One of them needed to start acting like a grown up, and guess who’d just been elected, she thought with a tired sigh. So, fine. She’d go out there and tell him to go away, that’s all. She’d tell him to go home, to stop hanging around on her doorstep and – what if it wasn’t him?

  She stared at the door, transfixed, hearing the soft rattle that could only be the sound of someone turning the handle, testing the lock. Why would he do that?

  What if it was someone else? What if... But no, that was ridiculous. If there was one thing she did not have to worry about right now, with a cop parked right outside – in plain sight, like he was – was someone attempting a break in.

  She relaxed a little. It was kind of nice actually, having someone like Ryan watch her back—even if she was still pissed at him. He was so good at it, for one thing. She thought about how comforting and secure his arms had felt around her, those few times she’d allowed herself to really relax in his embrace.

  She’d felt safe there, and sane. Two things she hadn’t felt in a long time. Two things she thought she hadn’t needed anymore. Maybe she’d been wrong.

  She frowned when she heard the footsteps moving away from the door, going around towards the back. Where was he going now, she wondered? What was he doing? Why—?

  She crossed to the door and pulled it open. A gust of wind blew rain into her face, but the porch was empty. A vague uneasiness settled over her again, chill and formless as the fog.

  “Ryan? Are you out there?” She called and waited, but the drip of rain was the only answer she received.

  Puzzled, she pulled her head back in and closed the door. Had there really been someone out there, or was her mind playing tricks on her again? She locked the door, and then, after deliberating with herself for a moment, secured the chain latch that Ryan had insisted on installing when he’d first come to work for her.

  She stared at the chain, feeling almost more nervous than before. She felt trapped. She felt so ill at ease that she nearly unlatched it again. But no. She wouldn’t let her nerves get the best of her like that. What would the rest of her life be like, if she started jumping at shadows or fearing the dark? A person could get a stiff neck, staring over her shoulder her whole life long.

  She turned away from the door and then stiffened. From the back of the building, there came a new noise.

  It was the wind, she thought, it had to be. The wind upsetting the metal barrels of feed that she kept in the yard behind the center – that’s all.

  Still, she’d better check it out, just in case.

  Passing the window that overlooked the parking lot, she took another look. Yep. Still there. Good.

  She let the knowledge that she was not alone warm her. She had to get a grip on her runaway nerves and stop acting like a coward. She let the blind fall back into place again, and headed towards the back; towards the closet where she kept her boots and rain gear. Maybe she’d call him and invite him in. It was silly for him to be sitting out there in the cold, but he obviously had no plans to leave. And it was petty of her to let him suffer.

  So she’d let him come in, she’d let him get warm. And then she’d send him home. But first, she’d go out back and see what she could do about securing those barrels.

  * * * *

  “Thanks for coming to get me,” Scout said as Ryan helped her into the passenger seat of his jeep. The wind whipped pieces of her hair in her face, and her skin had an unhealthy pallor.

  She looked like hell, he thought, but that hardly seemed like a diplomatic comment to make, so he kept it to himself.

  “No problem,” he said, closing the door behind her, and walking around to the other side. No problem, at all. Other than for the nagging feeling, growing worse by the instant that he should never have left Siobhan alone.

  But what else could he have done?

  The rain seemed to be pouring from buckets in the sky, and he could hardly be more wet if he’d fallen in the ocean. Wet and uncomfortable, he climbed back into his own seat. His leg was throbbing for the first time in days, and his need to get back to Siobhan was all he could think about. “So, where’d you say Nick was, again?” he asked as he put the jeep in gear and headed back out of the hotel’s parking lot.

  Scout didn’t answer right away, and Ryan glanced at her. her face was contorted into an expression of intense concentration and he could see her chest rise and fall in quick, panting breaths.

  She took a deep breath and relaxed, rubbing circles on her belly. “I, uh, he’s out in Hidden Canyon,” she said at last.

  “Oh.” Ryan forced his face to show no reaction. Hidden Canyon? Shit. He’d been listening to the radio all morning, to the calls that came in, there’d been reports of flooding in several of the canyons, including Hidden.

  But then, there’d been reports about a lot of things. “You know about the road to San Bart being closed, right? And that’s where you said your doctor is?”

  “Yes.” Scout nodded, taking a deep breath as her eyes went wide again. “Look, Ryan, forget about the doctor. I’m not sure we could get there in time, even if the road was open. And I... I just need something to make these contractions sto
p. Or slow down, or something.”

  Her voice was firmer as she went on. “I’m not having this baby today, Ryan. I can’t. It’s too early. So, I just need... I don’t know, a muscle relaxant, or something maybe? Some kind of... of I don’t know what.” She stopped talking then, and stared at him intensely. Her eyes burning into his, almost as if she were trying to read his mind, Ryan thought.

  Or maybe he was reading hers, because suddenly he had an idea. It was really out there, as far as ideas went, and he didn’t know Scout well enough to know how she might take it, but... it could very well solve both their problems.

  “Listen,” he said as they turned back onto the Coast road, heading back the way he’d come. “Do you trust me?”

  Scout looked at him for a moment without speaking. Then slowly she nodded.

  “Good,” Ryan told her. “Because I’ve got an idea.”

  * * * *

  Well, that’s strange. Siobhan blinked back rain as she stared at the barrels that stood, undisturbed in the yard behind the center. The yard was covered in several inches of water, and her boots sank into the soft mud with every step she took. Still, she took a few minutes to check and make sure that everything was secure; that the gates were all fastened, and the pens were locked, before heading back inside.

  She’d just taken off her coat, when the impulse to call Ryan hit her. And she was halfway to her desk when the voice spoke up behind her. Ten years vanished in the blink of an eye.

  “Hello, Siobhan.”

  Chills enveloped her on the instant, as if she’d been flash-coated with ice. Fury and loathing kicked once, and then died; killed by a panic so painful, so intense she thought her heart would stop as well.

  “No,” she said, the word barely audible above the thrum of her blood. “No, it can’t be. You... you’re—”

  “Turn around, sweetheart, I want to see your face.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, her feet leaden, hampered by the heavy boots she’d not yet taken off, still dripping water and fear all over the hardwood floor, Siobhan turned.

  For a moment, her brain refused to accept what her eyes were seeing. She looked right at him and saw nothing. Saw a dark spot, a shadow, a ghost. Bile rose into her throat and as she swallowed the bitter taste, her vision returned. “Tim.”