by T. A. Grey
“Let me at least get in the house, then I’ll explain everything,” he said grudgingly.
Everyone settled down and relaxed at that. The crowd headed inside like a morbid entourage.
Later, after he’d filled in the family on the news, though Arabella noticed he left out all the raw parts of the story, she adjourned back to her guest bedroom. Her duffle bag still sat on the floor by the bed where she’d left it. She blinked, expecting it to disappear or something. It felt strange being back here and seeing some of her own clothes. Because she hadn’t thought she’d escape from the casino.
The mood change came swiftly and hit her as hard as a wrecking ball.
They were going to kill us.
Quite unexpectedly, tears welled. The hot droplets slid down her cold cheeks. It wasn’t just because of what happened with Jericho, but because of last night and everything. All the stress and pressure had been building inside her and she’d dealt, no problem. That was life. She could do life. But last night—being stripped of her control and her clothes, being touched by an unwanted stranger—it was the most invasive and vile experience of her whole entire life.
Even though she showered last night, she could swear she smelled the blood still on her body. Naked, she ran into the bathroom and flipped on the shower.
She hadn’t even bothered to turn on the light. In the dark she stepped into the spray. A shudder wracked her at the cold temperature. She turned the temperature left. The water grew hot but not hot enough. She inched the knob further feeling the heat kick up. Her skin began to turn pink, her nipples pebbled. Squeezing her eyes closed from the stinging spray, she cranked the knob hard left.
She sucked in a breath. It hurt. Too hot, her brain screamed! But she needed this. The shower drowned out her soft sobs. Why did she feel so ashamed? She’d done nothing wrong. She knew that, yet she felt dirty and disgusted with herself.
With the water scorching hot, steam fogged the bathroom. The stall looked like a storm was coming in. The soap helped to wash it away, but not much. Five lines scarred her stomach. They would always be a part of her. The relief that he hadn’t done more couldn’t be greater. But she still had to wear that monster’s mark for the rest of her life and remember how he’d looked at her. How he’d touched her and hurt her.
Her skin was raw by time she finished, but at least she felt better. The tears had stopped giving her time to mend. She needed to sleep for, oh, a week to properly recuperate after this ordeal. Her emotions felt ragged and torn. If she could have anything she wanted right now it would be for Grayson and her to take a vacation. They could just go somewhere, she didn’t care where. So long as they could let the weight of the world go for a few days. It would be peaceful and romantic.
Arabella shut the shower off. She stayed there leaning against the shower wall and sucking in steam while her skin prickled from the cool air. Then she heard her bedroom door open and close. She froze like a scared animal.
Please don’t be him.
This was not the time for him to see her like this. After she’d just finished bawling her eyes out like a baby.
He came into the bathroom and stopped when he saw her. His eyes roamed over her body seeing everything from her eyes which showed she’d been crying to her red skin from scrubbing.
“What are you doing?”
“None of your business,” she replied sharper than she meant to. “I’m taking a shower. I’d like you to leave, please.”
He didn’t turn around as she asked and he didn’t turn on the light either. Of course he could see much better than her in the dark. “We have some things to discuss.”
She laughed. “Things to discuss, huh? I’m afraid I can’t do that tonight.” She was still too raw after her emotional breakdown. Please leave, she begged silently.
He came closer until he pulled back the shower door. Steam poured over him. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her face. He saw everything. What a terrifying thought. “I’m not going to do that. You need to talk this out with someone.”
“Talk what out?” she croaked, her throat dry.
“What happened at the casino? You went through some things that will take some time to work out. You have to talk about it.”
She shook her head. “Um, nope, don’t think I do.” She moved to step out of the shower but he blocked her way. Feeling angry, she pushed him back then grabbed the towel from the wall hook.
He grabbed her about the waist turning her to face him. “You have to. I know you hate me right now. I get it. But we have to move past this.”
Anger and frustration prickled her like a cactus. “Really, and why is that? What’s the rush, Gray?”
He pulled away from her. Never a good sign. “I need you to find Vincent.”
There had been several times in Arabella’s life where she’d been so surprised she hadn’t known what to do and thus ended up stumped, unable to do anything more than blink. There was the time when she went to visit her father back when she was turning two hundred years old. She’d expected a small birthday cake shared between the two of them, a movie on the television, and a good night’s sleep. That’s all. But what had she gotten when she arrived? A surprise birthday party of a lifetime. He’d planned it perfectly. There were no cars on the street, no loud noises to let her catch on, and no one had slipped up on the surprise ahead of time to spoil anything. So when she’d entered the dark hallway of her father’s house and flipped on the lights—she’d almost had a heart attack at the shear amount of people standing there shouting “Happy birthday!” That moment had made her heart stutter, time skip, and she’d actually looked behind her thinking they might have been wishing happy birthday to somebody else. She couldn’t remember a time anyone had ever gone out of their way for her like that. She’d been surprised and unable to really comprehend what was going on.
Now she had that same reaction. That same incomprehension stemming from shock. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I need you to find Vincent. He’s the only one left.”
Her eyebrows flew up. The towel slipped from her hand as she padded back into the bedroom. Grayson trailed after her. “Excuse me, maybe all those orgasms rattled my brain last night, but I feel like I’m missing something here.” She spun around to see him shifting at the mention of orgasms. Good. She wanted him to think about it. Suffer.
“I hired you to find both Jericho and Vincent Donato. We’ve only found and eliminated one of them.”
“Well, I don’t want to have anything else to do with this. I’ll refund half your money.”
He growled, a feral sound she’d only heard him make when he fought. “I don’t care about the money. I need you to track Vincent.”
Her heart hurt like a lead knot had taken up residence there. It stung and it made her nose stuffy and her eyes moist. She pulled back her comforter and slipped into bed naked. She’d only been up hours but a great big yawn came and she sighed into the pillow. She was just so exhausted from everything. She wasn’t kidding about needing that vacation. A week away would be heaven.
In wake of her silence he asked stiffly, “You refuse to do it?”
She couldn’t answer at first. “Yes,” she whispered. Admitting it out loud was much more difficult than she thought it would be. She spoke into her pillow with her eyes squeezed shut so she didn’t have to look at him. Like the coward she was.
“Why?” he demanded to know.
“Because I don’t want you to die.”
It took several seconds for him to respond. “I won’t die and neither will you.”
Her shoulders shook with bitter laughter. “You don’t know that. You can’t guarantee my safety any more than you can your own. You’ve taken both of his sons, Grayson. Can’t it stop there?” she asked like a prayer.
“They killed my bruid. I will have vengeance for her. She deserves the honor killing. I owe her that.”
A tear spilled down her temple. She rubbed it away with the pillow. “Then we have a
problem.” Emotion clogged her words.
The bed dipped, startling her. He sat down next to her, cupped her cheek and turned her head to look at him. He saw the moisture around her eyes. “Arabella…” The soft way he said her name had her blinking quickly to rein in the tears.
“Don’t,” she said.
His thumb caught her tears and wiped them away. He looked bitter and sad, and as always, beautiful to her. “I am sorry he touched you. I’m sorry about everything.”
His words struck her last defense, crumbling them. When she climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around her and held her, she let her tears come. He didn’t judge her for showing weakness.
Maybe he didn’t even entirely understand everything she was going through right now, but that was fine because she didn’t either. And nothing she’d been through could compare to him.
With her face buried in his neck, her tears slowly dried. She was plastered to him, not a part of her not touching him. Swallowing over the lump in her throat, she whispered to him a truth that had been in her mind from the moment they met all those years ago. A feeling that had been planted on that very first day and, upon him re-entering her life, made that feeling grow.
“Grayson, I love you.”
CHAPTER 31
Arabella dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a top that flattered her figure and headed off to the kitchen in search for food. If she was lucky she might even catch Beth and Felicity there too. She’d managed to bump into them around lunch time—which in the Blackmoore household was at 9:30 at night—every night since she’d told Grayson she loved him.
Such an idiot.
Naturally, what had his response been? The memory rushed to the surface like an air bubble trapped beneath water.
He narrowed his eyes at her. Uh oh. She knew that look. He didn’t like what she had to say. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She just told him she loved him. Not good! He slowly stood and wouldn’t look at her. He rubbed the back of his neck, then headed for the door. Her body jolted, fighting the urge to go after him.
“You should get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
No insults. Hell, really nothing at all. Except for a gentle let down by way of changing the subject.
That happened four days ago. That ‘tomorrow talk’ he’d mentioned—never happened. In fact, she’d only seen him twice. Once when he was talking with his family during a meeting. They’d stood in the same room together and even shared a few pleasant words. Then he’d disappeared. And not that she was searching for him, but she might have wandered the estate hoping to catch him. She missed him. She wanted to talk to him, to see how he was.
The second time she saw him was in passing. They both ended up on the opposite length of the hallway. He going one way, she the other. They both hesitated before finally walking toward each other. When they brushed past by the shoulder she sucked in her breath at his heat and his scent. Damn. Catching whiff of his yummy scent only made her longing worse. Then he spoke to her. The first time he’d said anything real to her since she’d wrongfully admitted her feelings for him.
“Are you ready to track Vincent?”
That’s what he’d said. She’d expected anything else over that. Instead of hurting her feelings though, she’d grown mad at him. So she’d snapped back, “Are you ready to tell your family you slept with me?”
His hardening jaw and stormy expression was her answer. He’d stalked away, his hands clenched. Served him right, she thought.
Now she was elbow deep in the refrigerator the Blackmoores kept stocked with human food. She grabbed some cottage cheese to go with her sandwich and stood up. That’s when the kitchen door swung open and shut. Arabella loved that door the moment she saw it. It was one of those swinging doors that could open in either direction. It did have a latch from the kitchen side in case you wanted to keep people out. Though it wasn’t much of a lock. A solid kick could throw it open. However, right now she couldn’t say she noticed the door but the man standing there.
He practically glowered. He wore the fiercest expression she’d ever seen like he was ready to throttle someone—preferably her. She stiffened at his dominating presence even as her heart started to race. Could he hear it, she wondered?
She took a big bite of her sandwich and spun around. There was nothing to do but pretend to be busy so she stood at the counter and read the label on the back of the cottage cheese container. Interesting, she thought. Only ninety calories for a half-cup serving.
Please let Felicity or Beth come in here. Or anyone else, please. Someone save me!
He came up behind her. So close she could feel his warmth.
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” he said. Her heart jumped a beat at the sound of his deep voice so close.
“Is it really worth more than your life?” She didn’t whisper, she demanded an answer with her question and she turned around as she said it, facing him.
“He won’t be taking it.” He looked so confident. But she’d experienced firsthand what happened when you messed with the Donatos. It was not pretty.
“Funny, you also didn’t think you’d be taken by Jericho, but look what happened at the casino.”
“In every assignment things go wrong. You can plan and prepare all you want but there will always be missing variables. That doesn’t mean you don’t go through with the mission. It means you have to suck it up and just do it.”
Wow, she thought, blown away. This is how he saw the world? So cut and dried and cold? It was a brutal outlook.
She took a bite of her sandwich. “So what you’re telling me is you’re a spokesman for Nike.”
His brow furrowed as he narrowed his eyes, then he took a threatening step forward. She swallowed down another bite and tried to appear unaffected by him.
“I need your help tracking Vincent. After that, this is all over.”
“No, it won’t be.” She shook her head.
“They killed my mate. I am fixing it.”
“By trying to get yourself killed too?” she fired back. The sandwich, the cottage cheese—all forgotten as her temper skyrocketed.
He bared his lips as he rolled his neck. “I thank you for your concern, but I will not get hurt. This time all I need you to do is tell me the location. I will go there and end this.”
“By yourself?” She blinked in surprise.
“Depending on the location I might take a few men with me.”
She couldn’t stand still any more, she had to pace to relieve some of her agitation. “Let me get this straight. The Donato family is the hardest vampire family to track because of how well they keep themselves hidden. Their money and resources surely also help them to stay hidden. On top of that, you have that family seal with the lion head which Jericho himself said helps to keep their positions obscure. You come along and find me, a rare fucking commodity in the Were species—I mean, really, luck you—and getting into the casino was difficult enough. Or did you forget about that? Disguises, questions, being tortured in a dungeon with no help in sight?” She was breathing hard when she finished.
“I’m not going to let him win,” Grayson said. His eyes flared with hot anger.
“What if you don’t have a choice? There’s always someone bigger and stronger and more powerful than you. Vincent Donato is that man.”
It took her a minute to realize he hadn’t responded. Arabella slowly spun around to find him watching her with his brow pinched and lips frowning. “I know you’re scared.” She sucked in a harsh breath. “And I know why you don’t want me to do this. But this isn’t about you.” He started for her like she might bolt at any second. Which she felt exactly like doing at his shattering words. “It’s about Anita and me. Please, Arabella, I’m begging you. Do this for me. Find Vincent, track him so I can avenge my bruid’s honor.” He spoke harshly, his eyes glossy with fervor.
She crossed her arms, surprised to feel them trembling. “That’s not fair.” Her voice wobbled and he cr
ossed to her on a curse.
In the next moment, he swept into her arms and claimed her mouth with a kiss. The kiss was hard and bittersweet. Feeling his mouth move against hers again after missing him over the past few days made her mad with passion. She grabbed the back of his head, thrusting her fingers into his thick dark brown hair and met him stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss. He tore away first, breathing hard, eyes wild.
“Find him for me.”
That’s how they were found when Felicity and Beth strolled into the kitchen. They froze in unison, Beth bumping into the back of Felicity. Both their mouths hung open at the sight of Arabella clinging to Grayson with her hand buried in his hair. She yanked it away and stepped back. But then Grayson did something that stunned her—he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her back against his side.
Beth and Felicity’s jaws touched the floor. “What is going on here?” Felicity asked with faux haughtiness. She looked like she was about to break out into delirious giggles at any moment or start taking pictures with her camera phone.
“We were discussing tracking Vincent,” Grayson said.
“Yeah, you know when Dom and I discuss things, we also do it while making out.” Felicity flashed a bright smile then grabbed Beth by the hand and left where they came from. The kitchen door swung shut; once again the kitchen turned quiet.
Arabella stepped out from Grayson’s touch. He tightened his grip on her shoulder before releasing her. “I want you in my bed tonight. Come sleep with me.”
Her eyebrows flew up and her heart banged like a timpani drum. “Are you sure?”
He didn’t answer, just gave her a look. It was all she needed to know he was serious.
“Okay,” she agreed.
Heat flared in his eyes and sound of his laughter took her by surprise.
“What’s so funny?”
A grin transformed his face into something sinfully seductive. “I finally got you to agree to something.” He leaned down and buried his nose at the base of her throat. She gasped and grabbed hold of his shoulders for balance. “I’ve missed you, Arabella.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “Do you have any idea how hard that is for me?” His tongue licked at her neck reminding her of his bite and flooding her sex with liquid heat.
