“You want me to help?” he asked.
She looked up at him. “How?”
He turned her back to face the mirror and stood behind her. He took her hand in his, and skimmed their joined hands over the scar on her cheek. His hand was on top of hers, and her fingers stroked her own skin.
“Feel that?” he said. “How soft and silky it is?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Now Dallas pulled her hand down, over her chin, down her throat. Her fingertips grazed the surface of her skin, barely touching it. He stopped just above her left breast, and carefully guided her fingers over the scar there. She shuddered.
“It’s OK, Olivia. I’m right here.” He drew her fingers over the scar again, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “You want to stop?”
She shook her head.
Gently, slowly, he guided her hand up and down her body, ran their fingers along each and every scar. He left the largest one for last, knowing that this was the one that frightened and disgusted her the most. That asshole had sliced her from her breastbone straight down the middle of her body, all the way to her navel. The scar was thick and raised, an angry, vivid purple, and every time she looked at it, she remembered how terrified she had been at that moment. She truly thought he was going to gut her like a fish; she thought she was going to die.
Dallas paused at the top of the scar. “OK?”
She nodded again.
He took her small hand in his large one and carefully traced the scar down. A sob caught in her chest and he stopped.
“Olivia?”
“Don’t stop,” she said. “I’m OK.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Dallas turned her face to his, pressed a tender kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes, just for a second, drawing strength from him.
“I love you,” he said again.
“I know.” Olivia smiled at him. “I can feel it, all the way to my fingertips.”
He moved her hand down, moving it the whole length of her upper body. Olivia watched in the mirror as they traced the horrible scar down, then up, then down again. Each time, it got easier; each time, it felt less uncomfortable. His hand on top of hers was strong, steady. Finally, he stopped and wrapped both arms around her. They stared at each other in the mirror, loving the love between them.
“How was that?” Dallas said.
“Good.” She leaned back in to his body. “Surprisingly good.”
“We can do that every morning, baby. You just say the word.”
Her tears slid down her cheeks, and he used his thumbs to catch them, wipe them away.
“OK,” she said. “It – it’s easier with you. It helps.”
“That’s all I want to do. Just make it better, if I can.”
Olivia turned in his arms. He clasped his hands around her waist, breathing her in. Loving her.
“So what are you up to today?” he asked.
“I’m meeting Nigel for a coffee. He’s got a whole bunch of wedding dress pictures he wants to show me. He says he wants an idea of what I like and don’t like, then he’ll head out to a few stores and pull some dresses for me to try on.”
“So you’re really going through with this, huh?” Dallas teased her. “I guess if you’re shopping for the dress, you’ll actually marry me?”
“Uh-huh.” Her eyes sparkled up at him. “I just hope I can find a dress you like.”
“Baby, you could show up in a white paper bag and I’d think you were the most stunning thing I’d ever seen in the whole of my life.”
“Yeah?” She grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind when Nigel starts throwing the thirty-thousand-dollar dresses at me. A bag’ll cost a mere fraction of that, right?”
Dallas blinked down at her in horror. “Thirty-thousand…”
“Yep. Welcome to the world of bridal dresses, babe. Nothing short of highway robbery.”
“I’ll say.” He shook his head. “But whatever you want, you’ll get. You know that, right?”
“Oh, no way. I couldn’t live with myself if I paraded down the aisle in that kind of dress. We’re keeping it small and simple, and that goes for the dress too.”
“You sure?” He kissed her forehead. “I kind of thought that the princess dress was every woman’s fantasy.”
“Propaganda.” She ran her fingers over the tight muscles of his biceps. “A sexy, hot man in her bed is every woman’s fantasy… and mine has already come true.”
“So… the paper bag dress it is, huh?”
“Yep.” She laughed. “A paper bag with some sparkles and glitter stuck on. That’ll do me just fine. Now I just have to break it to Nigel.”
“He’s gonna take it hard?”
“Oh, honey.” Olivia’s eyes sparkled up at him. “You have no idea how heartbroken he’s going to be.”
**
Kat turned over, and then wished that she hadn’t. Her head pounded so hard, she wondered if someone had taken to it with a pair of steel-toed boots. She clutched her temples and groaned. The sound reverberated in her skull and made her headache worse. It also seemed to echo all the way down to her stomach, causing it to tilt sharply to one side.
Oh, fuck. I’m going to throw up.
Every movement hurt like hell, but she had to get to the bathroom. Forcing her feet to the floor, she got up, swaying and unsteady. That was when she realized that she was in her own bedroom and she stared around her, totally confused.
What the ever-loving Christ? How did I get here?
Her stomach lurched again, and she lost all interest in how she got home. All that mattered right this second was puking somewhere other than her bedroom floor. Stumbling and fumbling, she managed to wrench the door open. It hit the wall and she winced as the sound knifed through her head.
Kat leaned heavily on the living room wall for support and gathered her strength for the trek to the bathroom. It was a mere ten feet away, but somehow the distance and difficulty looked as insurmountable as Everest.
“Well, good morning.”
She gasped and spun, immediately losing her balance. Strong hands caught her shoulders and Kat suddenly found herself staring up in to the liquid gold eyes of Jim Alden. He was fully-clothed and smelled of coffee.
Wow. He looks pissed off.
She opened her mouth to answer, thought better of it, clamped her mouth shut again. Jim seemed to know what was happening, though, because he just sighed and practically carried her to the bathroom.
“Here you go,” he said. “Come on out when you’re done venting your stomach contents.” He shut the door behind him, and Kat flung herself at the toilet.
Kat wasn’t too sure how much time had passed, but she knew from the pain in her knees that she’d been down on the floor for a while. She was startled when a gentle hand touched the back of her neck, and she glanced up to see Jim standing there with a glass of water. He still looked furious, but she saw a faint gleam of compassion in those incredible eyes now.
She took the water, her hand shaking wildly. “Thanks.”
“Sure.” He paused. “How are you?”
“Urgh.”
“Yeah, well. That’s what happens when you go on a four-day bender.” His husky voice was hard again. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
Kat closed her eyes. “Not now, Jim. Please.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is this a bad time?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you’ve had a goddamn week to talk to me or your friends, and you’ve spent it avoiding our calls and drinking your face off in a biker bar. What the hell’s wrong with you?”
Kat didn’t answer.
“Don’t think I’m letting this go,” he said. “I don’t go home until you answer every single one of my questions. We clear?”
Mutely, she nodded,
eyes still closed.
“You done puking?”
She shook her head.
“Fine. Let me know when you’re ready to come out. I’ll help you.”
She heard him walk out again, heard the door shut. And she leaned back over the toilet, wondering how the hell she still had anything left to bring up.
Maybe I’ll throw up some internal organs? ‘Cause that’s what it feels like. God help me.
Weak, dizzy, exhausted, Kat lay down on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. She couldn’t seem to stop shivering, and she didn’t have the energy to call Jim, so she just stayed down there, eyes closed. Wishing she could die.
**
Ten minutes later, Jim stood outside the door, listening. Nothing.
He knocked. “Kat?”
No response.
He opened the door and sighed again. She was out cold on the floor, her small body curled up and in on itself. Her hands were tightly clenched, her whole frame shaking.
Goddammit, Kat. Why’d you do this to yourself?
Jim picked her up off the floor, and carried her back to her room. He deposited her on the bed, and as he took a step back, her eyes flew open. She gasped.
“Kat?”
She stared at him, and he was taken aback at the look of fear in her eyes.
“Hey,” he said, alarmed. “You OK?”
“I – I…” She swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”
Jim studied her. “You ready to talk to me?”
“I… no.”
“Your decision, sweetheart. But I don’t leave until you do, remember.”
She turned over to face the wall, buried her head under the covers. He shook his head.
“You can’t avoid this conversation forever, Kat, try as you might. You get that, right?”
No answer. He left her alone but kept the door a bit open.
Kat stared at the wall in front of her, tears blurring it.
I can’t tell him, not about any of it. I just have to go. But how the hell am I going to get out of here when he’s between me and the door?
Too sick to think anymore, too tired to care much about anything, Kat let her body just collapse in to sleep.
**
Jim poured himself a third cup of coffee and grabbed his cell phone from his jacket pocket. He called Dean Jessop, his friend, boss, and former Ranger unit LT. Dean picked up on the fourth ring.
“Jim?”
“Yeah, man. How you doing?”
“OK. I’m just getting ready to take Emma to her doctor’s appointment.”
“Yeah, I know. She nervous?”
“Hell, I’m nervous,” Dean said. “We find out if she’s moving closer to remission… if the transplant and last few rounds of chemo have had any effect.”
“You’ll give her my love?”
“You know it, man. Anyway, is this why you called? Or is something else up?”
“Both.” Jim sipped his coffee. “I wanted to wish Emma luck, but also, I wanted to ask if Mitch or Jase could cover my shift this afternoon.”
“You OK?”
“Yeah. It’s Kat.”
Dean’s voice sharpened. “You have her?”
“I’m at her apartment now.”
“Where the fuck has she been for the past week? Emma’s been going out of her mind with worry.”
“I know. Olivia and Jenny too, from what Dallas and Chris have told me. I picked her up last night from Curves.”
Dean paused. “Fuck me. What was she doing at that place?”
“Trying to drink all the whiskey in the state, if her bar tab was any indication of her intentions. The owner found Kat’s cell and called me at two a.m. I brought her home.”
Dean sighed. “Is she OK?”
“She’s still sleeping. She just puked for an hour, though, so she may feel better the next time she surfaces.”
“You want to stay there?”
“Damn right I do.” Jim glanced at the closed bedroom door. “I don’t think any of us can trust her as far as we can throw her right now, and my thinking is that if I leave here, she’ll grab the packed suitcase in her living room and disappear in to the sunset.”
“What? What suitcase?”
“Yeah. She’s got one by the door, ready to fucking bolt.”
“You asked her about it?”
“Nope. She just got up, puked, passed out again. Conversation’s been fleeting.”
“Yeah, OK, then. I’ll call Mitch and Jase. I know Jase especially wants the extra hours. You stay right there and wait for her to drag her hungover ass out of bed. You don’t go anywhere, man, not until she offers up some answers.”
“That’s exactly my thinking.”
“Good to know we’re on the same page. I imagine Emma will call the ladies, so don’t worry about telling Jenny or Liv. Just hang tight, and get us all some information.”
“That’s the plan.”
“And do you think she’s OK? Emotionally, I mean?”
“Honestly? I don’t think so. I think she’s a mess about something, and I’m going to find out what it is.”
“Go easy on her, Jim.” Dean’s voice was suddenly gentle. “You know something about her ain’t right. We all know that, yeah? Just – just let her tell you when she’s ready.”
“I’ll try to cool my jets,” Jim said darkly. “If I don’t strangle her first.”
Chapter Three
Jennifer Sawyer hung up her cell phone, feeling relief in every nerve and muscle in her body. Despite the fact that Emma didn’t know much about where Kat had been for the past week, Jenny was glad to hear that Kat was home, and that Jim was basically standing guard.
Chris Brooker lay on his side and gazed at her. “Kat?”
“Yeah.” She pressed her naked curves closer to his massive body. “She’s home. She’s in one piece. Beyond that, I don’t know.”
He nodded. “She OK?”
“I’m betting not. Just dropping off the planet like that? That’s not her.”
Chris ran his hands up and down Jenny’s back, but he didn’t nod this time. The thing was that he’d long suspected that Kat was actually very, very good at just dropping off the planet. And he wasn’t the only one: Dallas, Jim and Dean had all mentioned at different times how cagey Kat was about personal details and her past. She changed her hair color constantly. She worked for cash-in-hand. She had a burner phone. The guys hadn’t asked him, but Chris knew that Dallas had checked in to Kat, and knew way more than he was letting on.
Maybe it’s time for Dallas to share with the group, huh?
But he didn’t say any of this to Jenny. No sense worrying her until he had something solid. And hell, who knew? Maybe after this little disappearing act, Jenny, Emma and Liv could get Kat to come clean about what the hell was going on with her. Chris was certain that the women weren’t going to just let Kat get away with this; he foresaw a serious grilling in her future.
Jenny relaxed against him, and he smiled down at her. Sometimes he just couldn’t believe that he was here, in her bed – no, our bed – touching her, kissing her, making intense and passionate love to her.
Just five months earlier, he’d thought it would have been impossible for any of this to happen. Back then, he’d been deathly afraid that Jenny had been far too damaged by what had happened to her up in that cabin. But the woman was stronger than anyone he’d ever met, bar none, and together, they’d worked through her fear.
She’d had a panic attack last night, though, her first in a few weeks. It had surprised them both, but it also reminded them that she was still healing. The truth was that Jenny would definitely be healing for years. Probably forever. And Chris wanted to be the man she turned to for comfort and love; he wanted nothing more than to be where he was right at this moment.
&nbs
p; “Chris?”
“Yeah, hon?”
“Can I talk to you about something?”
Right away, he was on high alert. He recognized that voice: it was the one she used when she wanted or needed to talk about anything to do with sex.
Maybe she wants to talk about the panic attack last night? What set it off?
“Of course you can. What’s up?”
She was fidgeting, which was another sign. Gently, he took her hands in his, kissed her chilly fingers, held them to his lips. She took a deep breath.
“I was thinking – I was wondering…”
“What, baby?”
“I was wondering if you’d – you’d kiss me.”
He stared at her, stroked her long blonde hair off her flushed cheeks. “I kiss you all the time.”
“No. I mean…” She moved his hand down her body, down to her lower lips. He stroked between them, almost groaning. She was still hot and wet from their lovemaking earlier, and his cock stiffened. “If you’d kiss me down here.”
Jenny’s whole body was responding to Chris’ finger circling her clit. She’d come just twenty minutes before, but she wanted more. It seemed like she always wanted Chris. She was sure she’d never finish being grateful to him for helping her to retrain her body to accept a man’s touch without fear, or shame, or disgust.
Chris sucked in his breath at the thought of finally kissing her pussy. She was scared of it, he knew, and she’d avoided it. Until now.
“OK,” he said. “Let’s talk about it… what worries you?”
Jenny ran her fingers over his strong collarbone. “Not being able to see your eyes.”
“Yeah. I know that’s important to you. You need to see it’s me.”
“Right. Also… I’m worried about being so… so…” She struggled to find the words.
“Open?” he suggested gently. “Exposed? Vulnerable?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “Yes, exactly.”
“Well, there are a few things we can try, baby.”
“Like what?”
Enemy From The Past (Unseen Enemy Book 4) Page 2
