by Debra Doxer
“You’ll be fine,” Lucas says.
I turn back to Grant, feeling desperate about this, needing him to understand. “We have to have a plan. If I fail, he’ll go after you two next. Our chances might be better if you’re not both there in the house with me.”
Lucas picks me up off his lap and sets me down on the couch. The cereal sloshes over the side of the bowl as he pushes up and walks past me, going through the kitchen and then out onto the patio.
I sit back and sigh. “Well, that went well.”
Grant laughs. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. What kind of reaction did you expect?”
I look toward the door that Lucas disappeared through. “I don’t know. A discussion of some kind.” I turn back to Grant. “I had a dream last night, a nightmare actually. I have a bad feeling, and I don’t think Lucas should come with us.”
A strange little smile comes over him. “You can’t cut him out now.”
I put the bowl down on the table. “I can’t let anything happen to him either. Help me. Maybe there’s something he can do that keeps him away from my father.”
“Lucas is a big boy. He can take care of himself.” When I shake my head, ready to contradict him, his hand goes up. “Trust me, okay? It will be fine.” He’s not listening to me, and I can see by his expression that he doesn’t intend to.
When I stand, deciding to find Lucas, Grant’s arm reaches out as I walk past him. His fingers circle my wrist, stopping me.
“He’s lucky to have you,” he says simply, looking up at me.
“I’m the one who’s lucky.” I start to pull my arm away, but his fingers tighten for a moment, sending a warm wave over my skin. I inhale sharply before he abruptly releases me.
“I want to try something,” he says in a light tone, dismissing whatever it was he just did to me.
Rubbing my wrist, I watch as he goes into the kitchen and withdraws a long knife from one of the drawers. My eyes grow round. “What are you doing?”
Lucas comes back inside and his gaze travels from my face right to the knife.
“I’m going to cut myself,” Grant says calmly.
“What?” I exclaim at the same time Lucas asks, “Why?”
Grant ignores me and looks at Lucas. “So I can heal it and generate energy for her to absorb. I want her to see that she can do it. She’s worrying herself sick about tomorrow.”
My head shakes vigorously at his suggestion.
Lucas crosses his arms and gives Grant an odd look.
I move toward the kitchen. “Don’t, I’m not—”
But before I can finish the sentence, Grant drags the knife across the tender skin on the inside of his forearm. His only reaction a slight wince.
“Grant!”
He turns serious eyes on me. “You ready?”
I’m outraged as I watch a ribbon of blood flow out of his sliced skin and drip down onto the floor. He’s eyeing me expectantly, but I can’t seem to move.
He tosses the knife into the sink. It hits with a metallic clank. “Raielle?” he asks, still waiting for me.
My eyes are on the cut when his skin starts to close and the blood flow tapers. He’s already healing it. As I move closer, I can feel the warmth coming off his body. My own skin grows damp while I watch, fascinated to see the serene expression that takes him over as he heals his own wound. I glance at Lucas. There’s a deep wrinkle in his brow, and his face is a strange mix of interest and irritation.
Wiping the moisture from my palm onto my jeans, I decide to try. I can’t deny that I would be more confident about tomorrow if I knew I could do this, and Grant has already sliced open his own arm. With the decision made, I take a deep breath before reaching my hand out toward him. It shakes, and they both eye me with renewed concern. Ignoring their looks, I realize that the power is stronger near his face, and my fingers travel upward, finally pressing firmly against his cheek. I try to grab on to his energy, but I can’t figure out how. It’s like trying to grasp water or smoke. It has no substance.
“It’s not working,” I say, and I can tell that he’s prolonging the healing, waiting for me. When I move my hand away, he looks at me sharply.
“Don’t give up,” he says. “Maybe I’m not generating enough. I want you to go again. This time I’ll give you more, as much as I can.”
I nod, taking a deep breath. Then I press my hand back to his face. After a moment, I can feel it again as the heat pouring off him grows. At first, there’s no difference. I still can’t latch on to anything. But then I feel his power increase and this time, at this elevated level, it seems to have some weight. Instinctively, I understand that if I make my own energy, it will connect with his, and somehow link to it. So I build it inside me, and when it’s strong enough, I send it toward him.
His body jerks, and I can feel his shock. Then I pull it back to me, but I try to take his along with it. The moment it hits me, my eyes widen. My body seems to vibrate. I hear a low buzzing in my ears, and there’s a strange bitter taste in my mouth.
Grant looks at me with a pained expression, and I know he feels what I’m doing. I know it’s hurting him. “Good,” he whispers. “That’s good.”
But it’s not good. I can see that he’s trying not to cringe but if he feels the same way I did, this must be excruciating for him. I start to pull my hand away when he covers it with his, holding my fingers firmly against his face. “Keep going.”
Against my better judgment, I draw in more. I can feel it coursing through me, making me stronger, but I can also feel his pain. He can’t take much more of this. Even though my hand is still on him, I end the connection between us, turning off the flow and letting it settle quietly.
I look down at Grant’s arm and see that it’s not healed. It’s still bleeding. Before pulling my hand back, I send out a pulse to close the wound. Then I look up into his eyes, which are wide and focused on me.
“Why didn’t you finish healing yourself?” I ask.
He seems far away as he blinks several times, trying to focus. “Once you started draining my energy, I couldn’t do it,” Grant says evenly, seeming to find that fact interesting. “I couldn’t heal it. I didn’t have enough power left.”
They both stare at me, Grant looking tired, and a little shell-shocked. Lucas is looking pissed off at Grant for some reason.
Grant places a hand on the counter to steady himself before smiling at me. “You did it. That was—” He breaks off, laughing. “It was amazing.”
I look at him like he’s crazy. When my father did it to me, it was the most excruciating pain I’d ever felt.
Grant scratches his cheek. “Was John able to feed off your energy right away, or did he wait until you’d reached a certain level? It seemed like you couldn’t take hold of mine until I had it turned up all the way.”
“He waited,” I reply, remembering now. He waited until I was lost to it, trying my hardest to heal the little girl.
“How do you feel now? Stronger?” he asks.
I nod. I feel none of the lingering weariness I had before, and I wonder if my nightmare was nothing more than my getting cold feet. It appears that I’m perfectly capable of doing this.
I glance up to see both of their gazes on me, watching me intently. This isn’t the first time I’ve been stared at like a science experiment, and even though they don’t mean to make me uncomfortable, I am.
They’re quiet as my attention shifts between them. Then I clear my throat in the heavy silence and unceremoniously leave the room. Walking back into the bedroom, I go over to the window to stare out at the bright sunshine. I have a feeling Lucas is going to follow me. I hear him talking to Grant. His voice is low and tense. Then I sense him walking into the bedroom. I know he’s here when the door closes.
“That was interesting,” he says.
But I don’t turn around. I can feel him coming up behind me. His warm hands cover my shoulders, and he begins to knead the tight muscles. “Grant is impressed. He’s
also tired as hell and can barely stand up.”
“Yay for me,” I say flatly.
His hands move down to circle my waist, and I automatically cover them with my own. Then he slides his fingers across my stomach, pulling me back against him. The feel of his body pressed against mine sends shivers through me like it always does.
“I thought you were mad at me,” I say.
“I just needed some fresh air,” he says beside my ear.
“Hmph.” I grunt at him, not believing it.
“You know what I think?” he asks.
His question makes me want to smile. “Not usually.”
He laughs quietly into my hair. “I think Grant wanted to feel close to you. That’s why he cut his arm open. Extreme, but effective.”
“No. What I did hurt him.” I turn around and look up into his eyes. Based on the light tone of his voice, I’m surprised by what I see there. His gaze is heavy, filled with a potent mix of restrained fury and possessiveness.
“How can you not see it?” he asks as his arms tighten around me. “He wants you for himself.”
But I do see it. I just hadn’t realized Lucas did, too, and the jealousy I hear in his voice surprises me. “When you’re in the room, you’re the only one I see.”
His eyes soften at my words, and he leans down, slanting his mouth over mine, drawing a deep kiss from me. Then he tilts his head back to meet my eyes. “Soon it will be just you and me. This will all be over,” he says.
I want to believe him as I lean forward to lick at his lower lip before sliding my tongue into his mouth. Lucas groans softly, walking me backward until I’m pressed against the wall. Then his hands drift down my sides and over my hips, digging into my thighs. He deepens the kiss, and I melt. He hasn’t touched me this way since we got here. I’ve missed this. I’m desperate for him.
I suck in a surprised breath when he lifts me up, wrapping my legs around him and aligning our bodies. He presses his groin into mine, making me gasp at the contact. When he pulls back and does it again, raw lust tightens my muscles and shivers race over my skin. I breathe out his name as my fingers fist in his hair.
“I need you,” he says with an edge to his voice that has my pulse racing faster.
Nodding my face against his, I feel him release one of my legs. His fingers start working the button on my jeans. I reach out to free him from his, fumbling in my eagerness. As my fingers slip inside to touch him, he begins yanking my pants and panties down my thighs. My legs slip down his body as I use my feet to push them the rest of the way off.
When he reaches for me again, he stops abruptly, biting out the word, “Condom.” Taking me with him, he pulls open the nightstand drawer. Once he locates what he needs, I figure he’s going to move us to the bed, but instead his hand wraps around the nape of my neck, and he holds me in place as he begins to devour my mouth. It’s hard to breathe, he’s kissing me so deeply. His other hand slips beneath my sweater, pushing my bra aside. His warm, rough fingers brush against my nipple, causing me to exhale heavily into his mouth.
Lucas breaks the kiss, breathing hard as he hands me the condom. This is the first time he’s asked me to do this. I realize I’m nervous as I try unsuccessfully to tear the wrapper. Finally, I just use my teeth, hearing him laugh softly at me. But the laugh disappears when I take him in my hand and begin to roll it on slowly, caressing him as I go. I glance up to find the look on his face is wild, like he’s lost all control. His fingers grip my thighs again, and all I can do is hold on when he pushes me up against the wall and buries himself inside me all in one smooth movement.
We cry out together, piercing the silence with our mingled voices. His hand lands on the wall beside my head, and he begins to pump his hips. My legs are tight around him as I marvel at how perfectly we fit together, like our bodies were made for each other. His clean scent surrounds me, and the guttural sounds coming from his throat fill my ears. My own moans are growing embarrassingly loud, but they seem to egg him on. His pace quickens while my back thumps a steady beat against the wall. He’s driving me higher, making his presence felt in every cell of my body.
“So good,” he says in a strained voice. “You always feel so good.”
All at once, my nerve endings flare, and my muscles ripple in response. I spasm around him, my nails digging hard into his shoulders. Fighting to keep my focus because I need to see him, I watch his face tighten before he drops his head into the crook of my neck, gasping hard against my skin.
In the sudden quiet, I listen to his breathing and feel the warmth of it drift across my shoulder. My heartbeat begins to slow again. Awareness comes back to me in pieces and tomorrow looms, threatening in the background. I love this man so much, the one wrapped around me now. I love him so fiercely it hurts sometimes. It hurts in this moment, and I know I can’t lose him, no matter what happens.
We’re still connected. Lucas groans in my ear when I shift my legs to slide my feet down to the floor. He leans back with a satisfied look in his eyes. His fingers reach up to touch the necklace he gave me, the one I haven’t taken off since he fastened it around my neck.
“You’re mine,” he says, like he did once before, his voice husky with passion.
I nod my agreement, unable to talk, still catching my breath while my thoughts keep hold of my tongue. He lifts me up with one arm around my waist and carries me to the bed.
“Check,” he whispers beside my ear.
I lean back to look at him, finding my voice again when I see a sly glint in his eyes. “That was on the list?” I ask.
He nods.
“Up-against-the-wall sex?”
His head shakes as he puts me down. “We checked that one off with shower sex. I guess shower sex was a twofer.”
Smiling at his reasoning, I ask, “What fantasy did we just fulfill then?”
His blue eyes darken. “Possessive sex. The kind where I brand you and ruin you for all other guys.”
My mouth forms a silent O, and he starts chuckling at me.
WHEN I’M nervous, I can feel my energy bubbling beneath the surface of my skin. It makes me uneasy, the power I have inside me. It’s grown so much stronger.
“Do you think it’s strange?” I ask from the backseat as Grant takes the exit that will bring us to the condo within minutes. “That he didn’t come after me. That he just sat in LA and waited me out.”
Grant glances over his shoulder. “Not really. He’s an egomaniac. He figured you’d be back eventually.”
I look out the window, ignoring the nerves that are bouncing around inside me. “I want to go over there this afternoon,” I state. The idea was to get word to him that I was back and wait for him to contact me, but I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to prolong this.
Grant and Lucas look at each other. “Let’s settle in first and then see how you feel,” Lucas suggests.
“I’m going to feel the same way I do now. I don’t want to wait around for him to summon me like I’m one of his subjects.”
Grant looks in the rearview mirror at me, and Lucas twists around, reaching his hand toward my face to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “We’ll talk about it when we get to the condo,” he says. Then he smiles reassuringly and my nerves seem to settle, even though I know his evasive answer means he doesn’t want it to happen today.
Grant exits onto Wilshire, and since I’m lost inside my head, it takes a moment for me to realize he’s driving in the wrong direction. “The condo’s that way,” I say, leaning forward to see his face.
He glances sideways at me. “You’re not staying there anymore. It’s not safe. I’ve made other arrangements.”
I look at Lucas, but he has no reaction. “What arrangements?”
Clearing his throat, Grant says, “You’re leaving today and driving back east.”
My eyes widen before my head snaps back to Lucas again. “What’s he talking about?”
But Lucas doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t acknowledge me at all
.
Suddenly something that didn’t make sense, the ease with which they agreed to my plan, becomes all too clear. A sour realization takes hold. “What’s going on?”
Lucas knows I’m talking to him, and he’s ignoring me. My eyes shift between them as I begin berating myself because I knew it. Deep down, I knew they were up to something. “You were never going to take me to my father’s house, were you?”
“No,” Grant answers, his eyes on the road.
They’ve been planning something together behind my back. They’ve been lying to me. My stomach churns at their betrayal, and my eyes are burning holes into the back of Lucas’s head.
“How could you?” I ask, hearing how hurt my voice sounds.
He still doesn’t move.
“Lucas!”
His jaw clenches before he finally shifts around to face me. “This is what’s happening, and you can be as pissed as you want, but it won’t change a thing.”
I rear back, shocked by his tone. Then I grit my teeth. Their obstinate replies are infuriating, treating me like I’m a child who has no say in her own life. “All that crap about me talking to you. That was bullshit, wasn’t it, Lucas? You said that so I would tell you everything while you told me nothing.”
“Did you tell me everything?” he asks. “You were going to forget about your plan to take down your father. But you wouldn’t let it go. You kept bringing it up.” He swings back around and sits there silently.
My mouth opens to argue, but then quickly closes again when he gives me the back of his head. They’ve been talking about me and making arrangements without me this whole time. I’m quietly imploding, realizing I have no choice but to sit here and see what they have planned, fuming at how they’ve gone about this and the way I’ve been lied to.
Grant drives us toward Venus Beach and pulls down a one-way road filled with narrow three- and four-story houses, all reaching upward to claim a view of the ocean. The mutinous fog in my head clears enough to start asking questions. “So we’re running away? Is that what this is?”
