by Dawn Brown
A cold rush swept through Shayne, draining the blood from her face. The woman was right. She hadn’t heard anything from Hudson since her first night, and the men who’d smashed her window hadn’t been back like they’d threatened. Slick fear coated her insides like icy oil.
“How did he get you to trust him?” Vivian’s jovial words, stung like well-aimed darts, pricking her aching heart. “Did he fuck you? Tell you everything you wanted to hear? That’s how they operate to get what they want, and God knows he’d do almost anything to pay Heddi back what his sister owes. Even crawl into bed with a woman he can’t stand.”
Did Des hate her? He certainly hadn’t liked her very much when she’d rented the cabin from him. How could she not have looked deeper into why he’d come around to helping her? She’d been suspicious. Why didn’t she ask questions? Why had she bought into everything he’d told her so quickly?
Because she’d wanted to believe in him.
“Why are you telling me all this?” Shayne asked, her voice thready.
The woman smirked and stood. “That’s not important. And no matter what you might think of me right now, I did you a big favor. These people will destroy you if you give them the chance. Remember that.”
Vivian sauntered away, the clack of her heels on the tile floor reverberating in Shayne’s ears as she stood too stunned to move.
The memory of Des’s hands on her body, his breath whispering against her skin, filled her head. Her stomach lurched, and she locked her jaw to keep herself from dry heaving. Had it all been an act? Had the very idea of touching her repulsed him? And this morning, when they’d talked about his father, the stupid cat’s name, the closeness—had that been part of his game?
One thing was certain. If it was all an act, he deserved a fucking Oscar.
Don’t let it be true. Let it all be the ramblings of a miserable, bitter woman.
Shayne slid out of her car and started toward the cabin, passing Des’s rusted station wagon as she went. Her stomach churned sickly, and her chest ached. She stopped walking, squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her palm to the throbbing pang. She didn’t want to do this, didn’t want confirmation she’d let this man make a complete fool out of her. But what choice did she have?
She opened her eyes, squared her shoulders and started forward again.
After leaving the Starlight, Shayne had gone to the realty office, ready to let Des have it, but the annoyingly chipper receptionist had told her he was out with a client. A small flicker of relief had ignited inside her, some of the tension easing from her taut muscles. With him busy, she’d have some time to gather her thoughts and think about what she wanted to say. But when she’d turned up the driveway, she’d spotted his car, and her stomach had dropped like a stone off a cliff.
Now, she hesitated outside the door, drew a deep breath, and stepped inside.
Des was standing in the kitchen, rooting through the cupboards. He glanced over his shoulder at her, then turned back to what he was doing. “Good, you’re back. I was going to make dinner, but there’s not a whole lot to work with. Though to be fair, my culinary talents center around spaghetti and eggs. I make a mean omelet, though.”
Her throat shriveled at the sound of his light voice, the normalcy of the moment. She had to swallow past the lump before she could speak. Please, please don’t let it be true.
“Do you have an agreement with your grandmother to feed her details about my book so she can stop me from writing it, and she’ll let you off the money you owe?”
Des froze, his back to her, head in fridge. Her breath locked in her chest, while she waited for him to respond.
Please, please don’t…
Slowly, he straightened, then turned to face her. All animation gone from his expression, his skin pale, and his brows drawn tightly over his dark eyes.
Oh God, it was true.
Brilliant pain sliced her chest, stealing her breath. Her knees trembled as if they might give out altogether, but she gripped the edge of the table and steadied herself. For a long moment, she stood staring at the floor, focusing her attention on the stained rug. Blood pounded in her ears, and her face burned. Then, on the heels of the pain, a blessed numbness followed.
She lifted her gaze, and met his stunned stare. “Get your things and get out.”
Chapter Seventeen
“A passing patrol car spotted a young girl at the side of the road, clutching a toddler in her arms. This was the first indication something at 4 River Road was very wrong.”
—excerpt from Blood and Bone by Shayne Reynolds
Shayne held Des’s gaze, her words hanging in the air. For a moment, no one moved. The room itself seemed to hold its breath. Des rushed down the short set of stairs toward her, eyes intent, jaw knotted. But she held up her hand and stopped him in his tracks.
“I can explain,” he said.
She snorted. He might have broken her heart and crushed her dignity, but at least she still had her sense of humor. “Are you kidding? Do you honestly expect me to believe a thing that comes out of your mouth?”
“No, I don’t, but I need you to listen to me. You don’t know the whole story.” The words tumbled fast from his mouth, edged with desperation, maybe panic. He probably was panicked. She’d discovered his plans before he’d finished the job. He and his psychotic grandmother hadn’t managed to kill her book yet. At least, she didn’t think they had. The reality was she had no idea how much damage he’d done.
“Did you or did you not make that agreement with your grandmother?”
He hesitated, then sighed, shoulders sagging. “I did.”
A sharp pang pierced her heart. What a fool she’d been to leave herself open, to let him hurt her like this. “I must be the stupidest woman alive. I should have known you weren’t on the level. You went from threatening to sue me to offering your help overnight. God, I should have seen right through you.”
He took a step toward her, and she stepped back. His features tightened with what looked all too close to pain. “I made the deal with Heddi, but I never told her anything. I just said I would so she’d back off.”
Even now she wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe all of this was just some big misunderstanding. And why? Because he was a good lay? Because it would assuage her wounded ego? “My God, you’re good. I have to give you that. You are one hell of an actor. How were you able to stand touching me given the way you feel about me?”
“You have no idea what I feel for you,” he ground out, his voice rough.
“Or did the thrill of ruining my work and humiliating me get you off?”
His eyes flashed. “I would never humiliate you.”
Fresh fury welled in her chest. “Really? Because having your aunt drop this particular bombshell was pretty fucking humiliating.”
“Vivian told you.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I should have known.”
“Well, that makes two of us. Don’t worry, though. She didn’t give me anything I can use for the book.”
“I don’t give a shit about the book.”
“Wow, I’m surprised you were willing to take one for the team the way you did for something you don’t give a shit about. But putting yourself through this wasn’t about the book. You wanted to pay your sister’s debt.”
“Christ it wasn’t like that,” he said, his voice gritty. “Everything that happened between us was real. Everything we did. Everything I said to you.”
He reached for her, but she shied away.
He swallowed hard, and cleared his throat. “Please, please, please Shayne. You have to listen to me. I’ll tell you everything, I was going to anyway, I swear.”
“I can’t believe you now.” No matter how badly she wanted to. “I can’t believe anything you say to me.”
Her voice hitched on the last word, and she clamped her mouth shut. The anger swirling inside her was slipping away, leaving her tired and weepy. But she’d be damned before she shed a tear in front of him. S
he grasped the thin shreds of her pride and held on for dear life. “Go, Des. Please.”
He reached for her again, and she moved away.
“Don’t touch me.” She’d crumble if his skin brushed hers, shatter into a million pieces. “Just looking at you right now makes my skin crawl.”
He paled and looked away. Direct hit, but she didn’t feel good about it. After this mess, she couldn’t feel good about anything they’d done together. Every memory, every word and every touch…tainted. “Please go.”
“Yeah. Okay.” He nodded slowly, but didn’t look at her.
He grabbed his few belongings from the bedroom and bathroom, dumped them into his bag and started for the door, but hesitated with his hand on the knob. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.”
Hell, no one was sorrier than she was. She might have told him, but she didn’t dare trust her voice. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. The back of her nose tingled. If she opened her mouth, the dam in her throat would give way, tearing from her precarious grip what little dignity she had left.
Des left and closed the door quietly behind him. From outside, his car roared to life. She stood absolutely still, listening to the sound of the rumbling engine fade as he drove out of her life.
Once alone, the silence pressed in on her. All the hurt and shame bubbled up. Hot tears flooded her eyes, ran down her cheeks. Her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor, wrapping her arms around her middle and sobbing so hard her entire body shook.
She cried until she was empty, her insides hollow. When she finally sat up and wiped her wet face, the room had darkened, and Bigwig sat in front of her watching with his one good eye.
“Where were you during all the drama, huh?” He let out a mournful meow. “I should have made him take you with him. Keeping you was his idea, and what am I supposed to do with a cat? Besides, you like him better than me, anyway.”
As if to make a liar out of her, Bigwig strolled forward and rubbed his scarred face along her knee. “Oh, you probably just want fed.”
On a shuddering sigh, she pushed to her feet and made her way to the bathroom. She blew her nose, then splashed water from the sink on her face. When she looked up, a red puffy gaze from her makeup-free face stared back at her from the mirror. God, she looked like she’d aged ten years since this morning.
“Never again,” she vowed to herself. And she meant it.
A sharp rap next to his ear jerked Des awake. He blinked, then squinted against the glare of hard morning sun spilling through the windshield. As he sat up, the worn vinyl seat creaked with his movements. The muscle along his shoulder pulled tightly and sharp pain shot up the back of his neck from sleeping propped against the window. His head throbbed from not having slept nearly long enough.
“Good morning?” the impatient, female voice from outside punctured his sleep-fogged brain. He looked up at Shayne standing beside his door, glaring down at him through the window. “Would you like to tell me why you’re sleeping in your car outside my house?”
Damn, he’d overslept. He’d really meant to be gone before she awoke. “Protecting you?”
“Of course you are,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
With a sigh, he popped open the car door and stepped out. His knee locked the minute he put weight on it—from sitting in the same position for so long—and he stumbled a little before grabbing the edge of the car, steadying himself. Shayne’s arms shot out as if to help him, but dropped back to her sides nearly as quickly.
Just looking at you makes my skin crawl.
Those words had hit him hard, playing over and over again inside his skull while he’d watched her cabin through the night. He’d screwed up, badly. She’d been furious at him yesterday. Not that he blamed her. He should have told her the truth from the start. Now, she wouldn’t believe anything he said. Still, he had to try. Even if she continued to hate him—his chest squeezed tightly—he had to warn her about Tic, and make her believe the man was dangerous. Do whatever it took to keep her safe.
After all, sleeping in his car outside her house wasn’t a long-term solution. Now that she’d found him, she’d probably get a restraining order.
“Shayne.” He took a step toward her, but she jerked as if afraid she might spontaneously combust if they made physical contact. He swallowed hard, and did his best to ignore the dull ache in his chest. “I need you to listen to me.”
“No, I’m done playing your games. I told you last night to go and I meant it.” She folded her arms over her chest and cocked her head to one side.
God, she looked good with dark jeans hugging her slender legs and a snug white blouse peeking out from under a fitted leather jacket. Her straight, black hair fell past her shoulders, framing the sweeping angles of her face. Her eyes were red and a little puffy as if she’d been crying, or hadn’t slept. Maybe both.
Guilt twisted low in his gut. “Just hear me out, then I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again.”
She snorted and shook her head. “Fine. Good. Go ahead. This should be interesting.”
“I didn’t tell Heddi anything about your book, I swear.” She opened her mouth as if to argue, but he cut her off. “And I only agreed to what she wanted so she’d call Tic off. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. I didn’t want him anywhere near you.”
She frowned. “Tic. He was one of the men who smashed my window the other night?”
He nodded.
“You knew, but decided not to mention it to me or to the police?”
Christ, with every word out of his mouth he made things worse.
“We didn’t actually see him, and one of his nimrod friends would have given him an alibi. He would have gone out of his way to make sure we never spoke to the police again. Believe me, I know from experience. The man is a psycho, and the only way I could think to keep him away from you was to go to the person who had put him on you in the first place.”
She nipped the corner of her lip and nodded slowly. “Sabotaging my book was for my own good.”
“I didn’t tell Heddi anything about your work. I never planned to. I figured I’d stall her long enough for you to get what you needed and leave town, but it didn’t work.”
Her mouth pulled into a tight cynical smile. “But your actions weren’t quite as altruistic as you’d have me believe. After all, it’s not like you weren’t getting anything out of the deal. That’s a considerable amount of money your sister stole. It would have taken you years to pay that back, and your grandmother was willing to let you walk away from it provided you gave her what she wanted. Do I have that right?”
His stomach coiled into an icy ball. No matter what he said, everything out of his mouth was suspect. “She would have been suspicious if there wasn’t something in it for me.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “You have an answer for everything.”
“Would you believe me if I couldn’t explain anything?” he snapped.
She sighed and shook her head. “No. I want to believe you, but I can’t. I can’t trust anything you say.”
She started to move away, but he grabbed her hand to stop her. He wanted to pull her against him, wrap his arms around her and beg her to forgive him. Tell her he was sorry he’d hurt her. Promise he would never lie to her again. If she would just give him another chance…
“Tic is dangerous. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. You want to hate me? Fine. You don’t believe me? Okay. But know that Heddi won’t go away. If I’m not on the job anymore, Tic probably is.” Images of that animal in the parking lot filled his head, but instead of the waitress struggling underneath him it was Shayne. Des’s mouth went dry and the blood in his veins turned icy. “Don’t go anywhere alone. If you see him, get as far away as possible.”
She didn’t try to pull from his grasp, and her expression softened slightly. A tiny flicker of hope sparked in his chest.
“I’ve already taken precautions. I’ve reserved a room at a hotel in Willow Creek for tonig
ht. I can stay there while I finish gathering the rest of what I need. Shouldn’t take too long. You won’t need to feel obligated to sleep in my driveway anymore.”
She might have been trying to lighten the mood, but the words fell flat. He should have been relieved she was leaving. Instead, the ache in his chest squeezed tighter. He could hardly breathe.
“You’re leaving today?” How he managed to form words, never mind string them together in a coherent sentence, he didn’t know.
She nodded. “Yeah. I managed to get most of my packing done this morning. I need to ask a favor though.”
“Anything.”
“Can you take the cat? If I had my own place, I wouldn’t have a problem keeping him, but I don’t think the hotel allows pets.”
“Yeah, I’ll take him. Can you wait until I finish work today?”
“That’s fine. Whenever you can.”
They sounded like a couple in the midst of an amicable break up. Not that he had much experience in the matter. He’d kept most of his relationships superficial. Partly because he had enough people he was responsible for, and partly to avoid moments like this one with Shayne.
Crazy. They weren’t a couple. They’d barely been friends. The sex had been incredible, but beyond that there hadn’t been anything else between them. Why did the idea of never seeing her again leave him empty?
She backed away. “I should be going. I still have a few things I need to get done in town before I leave.”
“Right.” He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “Remember what I said about Tic.”
“I will.”
When she reached her car, she pulled open the driver’s side door.
“I really am sorry,” he called out.
She turned and looked at him, her expression impossible to read. “Thank you.”
Shayne pulled up in front of the abandoned Anderson place and dropped her head to the steering wheel, squeezing her eyes shut. Big mistake. Des’s image, those swirling gray eyes filled with regret, the breeze playing with his too-long hair, filled her head, and the lump making her throat ache swelled.
