by Ranae Rose
“You fuckin’ crazy? She woulda tried to stop us.” Randy shrugged. “You ask me, she deserves this. She never tried to stop him hurtin’ us, even when we was babies. She coulda taken us away ages ago, gotten us all away from him. She chose not to – she chose this.”
Randy watched the house burn, going up like tinder dropped into a furnace. Everything had a price, especially freedom. Standing in the heat cast by flames devouring their home, he felt strangely cool, like he was watching a transaction between himself, Troy and whatever powers had been ruling their miserable lives.
Trading misery and the people who’d caused it for a new existence.
No price was too high.
CHAPTER 27
The darkness surrounding Randy was a palpable thing. Really – he could feel the weight of it bearing down on him, making him itch. There was a single small, high window, but most of its light was blocked by items in storage: boxes, mostly. And what little bit of illumination filtered in seemed strangely weak. During the day, it was enough to see by, if he squinted. That was it.
Fact was, hiding out here made him uneasy, reminded him too much of prison. Coming and going as he pleased was out of the question – too risky. Instead, he’d been biding his time, doing nothing but thinking while he healed up.
His wounds seemed to be doing about as well as could be expected – not infected, as far as he could tell, but still open and aching. His right arm was stiff and didn’t move right. That fact burnt perpetually in his mind, filling him with frustration that was amplified by his confinement.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d scrambled into a trap, lured into this dark place by the illusion of safety and secrecy. He wished he’d chosen another place. Though he was alone, he could never shake the feeling that he was being watched. Sometimes he thought he heard voices too, whispers from people coming to find him, coming to get him.
Riley County was a small place – too small to hide comfortably. But then, that was the case with the whole world. It was why he would’ve come back even if it hadn’t been for what’d happened to Troy.
Life on the run wasn’t much of a life at all. When everything was a risk, when every little thing you did could end with you being locked up for the rest of your life, you couldn’t enjoy anything.
During his month on the run, he’d never so much as taken a piss without looking over his shoulder. His paranoid mind had been an IV drip constantly dosing him with adrenaline. The metallic taste of it had become the permanent, inescapable flavor of his existence.
He’d made it across the Mexican border easily by crossing a bridge with a bunch of tourists only to discover that there was a second border 25 miles in – one you couldn’t just traipse across. Funny how no one ever mentioned that when they talked shit about fleeing south of the border.
It wasn’t like he’d had a chance to plan it out himself, to research shit like that. The opportunity that’d presented itself on the prison bus had been a freak one and his escape had been a fly by night venture. From the very beginning, his main drive had been the urge to get as far away as possible.
Turned out there was no such thing as far enough away.
Mexico had been miserable anyway. A shithole brimming with people he couldn’t understand, a place where he’d stood out, which had been the opposite of what he’d wanted. There hadn’t been any work for someone like him, and so he’d had to break the law there too to get what he’d needed. By the time he’d fled, he’d felt the narrow 25 mile border zone closing in on him, threatening to suffocate him.
He hadn’t needed research to tell him that a Mexican prison would’ve been a darker hell than an American one, especially for a South Carolina native. And so he’d gotten out while he’d been able, had come back to where it’d all started.
Square one. The place where they’d meant to keep him, meant to snuff out his life slowly, year by miserable year.
Turning the tables and allowing himself to fight back, no matter what the cost, was the only true taste of freedom he’d had since running off that prison bus.
The truth was a bitch, and it had become painfully clear to him in Mexico: anyway he looked at it, his time was just about up. The only question was how many of his tormenters he was going to take with him. Returning to Riley County and deciding he no longer gave a fuck about staying alive had been the emotional equivalent of morphine.
The second he’d made the decision, it’d been like flipping a switch: his anxiety had flatlined, and a grim euphoria had taken its place.
Maybe things would’ve been different if they hadn’t killed Troy, after all. Maybe being on the run with his brother – having just one person he could trust – would’ve made the endless, exhausting paranoia worth it. But they had, and all he could do now was make them pay for what they’d done.
He’d spent all his time in his new hideout with a permanent headache, one caused by thinking as hard as he could, desperate to form a new plan. He’d counted on having the trailer at least until he’d taken out Dryden, but Reynolds’ kid and his girl had fucked that up. He was nothing if not adaptable though, and knew he could still salvage something from the wreckage of his original plan.
Something this town wouldn’t forget for a long, long time – something that would make little old Riley County a household name, something they’d make TV specials about for years to come.
What a thought. Tipping back his head, Randy looked up through the darkness and smiled.
* * * * *
“Sasha, if he means that much to you, go see him.”
“What?” Sasha nearly dropped the baking dish as she lowered it onto the hot pads she’d arranged on her kitchen table. It was nearly eight o’clock, and she and her mother were sitting down to dinner after a long day at the beach and a little shopping in Wilmington.
“Henry. Your boyfriend.”
Sasha carefully arranged the food on the table, though it didn’t really need it. She and her mother had discussed Henry briefly, but Sasha hadn’t gone into much detail about their relationship. “I don’t get to see you as often as I should, mom. I’m enjoying spending time with you.”
Her mother would only be in town for a couple more days, and Henry had been booking some serious overtime ever since he’d returned to work the day before. The search was ongoing and consumed the PERT officers’ waking hours.
“I’ll be fine on my own for a little while.” Her mother waved a hand. “Don’t worry about me.”
“He’s probably still at work,” Sasha said, unable to help glancing at the clock.
“But getting home soon?”
Sasha nodded. “Probably. They stopped around this time last night.”
“I heard you talking to him on the phone.” Her mother shrugged. “The walls are thin.”
“Oh, really?” Hopefully her mom hadn’t heard everything.
“Don’t worry,” she said, as if she’d read Sasha’s mind. “I turned on the TV and tried not to eavesdrop. But even the little bit I heard was enough to let me know that you’re crazy about him.”
“This coming from the woman who used to tell me I was the most boy-crazy teenager she’d ever met.”
“I don’t mean that kind of crazy. You were always a flirt – you get that from your dad. He could’ve charmed the skin off a snake, and I was the envy of all the girls on campus when we started dating.”
Sasha smiled. She couldn’t help it – her parents had been college sweethearts, and her mother always made it sound like he’d had hoards of girls panting after him. He, on the other hand, had claimed he hadn’t noticed – that from the moment he’d laid eyes on Sasha’s mother, he’d been stricken with tunnel vision.
“Anyway, I think Henry is the first man who’s caught your eye that I’ve heard you talk to without flirting. You sounded so serious. That’s what tipped me off.”
“You make it sound like I’m some kind of tart!” Sasha grinned and grabbed a serving utensil, then lifted salmon fillets out
of the dish and onto her and her mother’s plates. She’d made a special dill sauce for them – an easy favorite that rarely went unappreciated.
“That wasn’t what I meant at all. But Sasha, this is the first time you’ve served burnt food since that time you put cornbread in the oven and got distracted by a televised Backstreet Boys concert when you were thirteen.”
Sasha’s cheeks burnt, much like her homemade cornbread had that day. She’d nearly reduced their house to a pile of ashes. The bread had been a charred disc with a faintly yellow center. It was one of her top five worst culinary disasters, most of which had occurred during her boy band phase.
“Can you blame me?” she asked. “I was in love.”
Her mother raised a brow. “I’m tempted to say you’re in love now.”
Sasha didn’t deny it, though she felt vaguely guilty talking about it with her mother. After all, she’d lost the love of her life … how could Sasha gush to her about her feelings for Henry? It seemed like a cruel thing to do.
Her mother looked down at her salmon like she was reading tea leaves. “Even if you try to hide it, I know it must be driving you crazy that he’s out looking for that psychopath.”
Sasha didn’t deny that either, just took a long sip of her water.
“Why don’t you go see him tonight, even if it’s only for a few minutes? I’ll take care of Wolf while you’re gone.”
Sasha cast a glance at the dog, who’d stretched out on her couch and was lounging contentedly. She’d volunteered to keep him at her place until the search ended, since Henry was working such long hours and Wolf needed to be cared for. Yesterday Wolf had been a little freaked out by the change of scenery, but he seemed to have settled in.
“Okay.” As she agreed, relief washed over her like a tidal wave. She was dying to see Henry – she thought about him constantly, even while she was at work. Worry had become her constant companion, and she longed to hear his voice in person, ached to feel his arms around her.
Her mother smiled. “Don’t feel guilty just because I’m here. The chances that he’ll come out of this just fine are overwhelmingly good, but if he didn’t… Well, trust me, you’d wish you’d spent whatever time with him you could.”
Sasha’s heart sank as guilt assailed her again.
“I don’t mean to be dramatic,” her mother said. “I just want you to know that I understand. And even if it weren’t for the current circumstances, life is short and we all have limited time with the people we care about. That’s why I’m here. I’d never ask you to ignore someone you love.”
“Thanks mom. I’ll go after dinner. I won’t be gone for too long, though.”
Mostly because Henry would have to be up early in the morning for work again. Still, though… She was thoroughly determined to fit in a quickie.
“Wow, I really did burn the fish, didn’t I? I was counting on the sauce to hide it, but I don’t think it’s working.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve always liked meat with a little char on it. This is sort of the same thing.”
Sasha laughed. “Not really, but thanks for pretending. I’m having flashbacks to when you actually tried a bite of my Backstreet Boys cornbread.”
“Well…” Her mother laid down her fork. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I gave it to the dog when you weren’t looking.”
“Poor old Charlie. Is that why he died when he was only seven? Now I feel guilty.”
Sasha’s phone buzzed from where she’d laid it at the edge of the table. She didn’t even have to read the screen to know the text was from Henry. When she did, the message confirmed what she’d hoped for: that he was home safe.
“Is that him?” Her mother gave her a knowing look.
Sasha nodded. “He made it home okay. No luck with the search though.” She frowned. That meant he’d be heading back out in the morning.
When Sasha looked up, she saw that her mother was wearing an identical expression. “Be careful, honey. It scares me half to death knowing that creep could still be in the area. If he came all the way back here to avenge his brother, I can only imagine what he might do to someone who attacked him.”
Sasha nodded. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought of that herself. “If it helps to know, I’m armed.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “You bought a gun?”
“No, but let’s just say that I’m a proven danger with the weapon I do have.” No way was she going to give up her Shun after it had served her so well. It was her lucky knife now, and if necessary, she’d slash her way through anything and anyone if that was what it took to protect Henry, or anyone else she loved.
Because her mother was right: life was short. And regardless of the flirtatious nature she’d inherited, or the fact that she’d once written separate love letters to all five of the Backstreet Boys and mailed them together on the same date, she knew she’d never love anyone like she loved Henry.
CHAPTER 28
“Ah, fuck!” Henry stumbled backward and barely caught himself against the counter. “Hell Sasha, you nearly broke my back.”
She might be small compared to him, but she channeled all the force of a speeding train when she really wanted something. And apparently what she wanted right now was his dick. He had to admit, if his back was going to be broken, this was probably the best way it could possibly happen.
He sucked in a breath as she pressed herself against him, put her arms around his torso and squeezed so hard his ribs ached in protest. The feel of her hot, soft body held so tightly against his dispelled some of his exhaustion and replaced it with a desire he felt even more deeply in his bones. She ground her belly against his groin, and he knew it was deliberate.
“If you survived a gunfight with Randy Levinson, you’ll survive this.” She tipped her head back and met his eyes.
He was momentarily frozen as he studied her face for the first time in nearly 48 hours. She was so beautiful he could hardly stand it – her beauty struck him fresh as he stood sweating in the uniform he’d been wearing all day.
“I’m disgusting,” he said as she gripped his duty belt.
“Impossible.”
He felt his duty belt unbuckle and slip away, heard his equipment scraping on the counter as she set it there and pushed it away.
“Okay.” As his dick throbbed against the palm of her hand, through his uniform pants, he gave one last attempt at a warning. “I smell like I’ve been rolling around in the dirt and sweating in the sun all day, which I have been.”
“Rolling around in the dirt?”
“Grass, really. It was a field. Grey tripped me.”
“I’m a little jealous. I’d love to roll around in the grass with you.”
It was a sexy fantasy, but only that. In reality, the heat, humidity, ticks and mosquitos tainted the idea of spontaneous field sex, at least during the summer. “No you wouldn’t.”
She yanked the hem of his uniform shirt out of his pants and popped the button above his fly free. “I’d take you anywhere and any way I could get you. I love fucking you almost as much as I love you.”
Heat tore through him, made him want to turn the tables and pin her up against the counter. Tear her clothing off of her, see how she liked it. There was no doubt in his mind that she would like it.
She had his zipper halfway down when he grabbed her wrists, stopping her. “Anywhere and any way? You sure about that?”
Her gaze was unwavering. “Yes.”
He reached for the belt she’d stripped off of him and had his cuffs in hand before she’d so much as blinked. The ones he’d decided would be just hers were in his room, and at the moment, that seemed a million miles away. Desire had him by the balls, and he wasn’t about to walk away. He cuffed her, both hands behind her back, before she could say a word.
What he did next was something he’d been fantasizing about for an eternity. Over the past two days, the fantasy had been one he’d thought about each time he’d stepped into the shower, one he�
��d jacked off to before he’d even washed the day’s sweat from his skin. Now, the prospect of actually living it out had him hard as granite.
He stripped her shorts and panties off of her without wasting any time, pausing only to run his hands over the luscious curves of her ass and to kiss the slick swell of her pussy, indulging in a quick taste.
There was no getting her top off while she was cuffed, but he pushed it up over her chest, unhooked the back of her bra and pressed his face against her breasts, sucking on her nipples, touching them and groaning when he felt how hard they were. As ready as he was to fuck her, there was no ignoring curves like hers.
The table was just the right height – he’d decided that days ago, had imagined the logistics of what they were about to do in detail. So when he walked her to its edge and bent her over it, it was no surprise that it seemed made for this.
With her standing bent that way, her perfect ass on display and thighs already spread, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. His gaze was glued to her body, even as he yanked his zipper the rest of the way down and took his dick in hand, letting his pants and underwear slip down over his hips. His uniform would be a mess when this was done – the dark blue fabric was a perfect canvass for incriminating evidence. He didn’t give a damn.
Her slit was pink and wet; he saw that even before he felt it. White-hot lust tore through him when the moisture from her lips kissed the head of his cock, and he groaned.
She tensed, body clenching even though he wasn’t inside her yet, and he felt her folds tightening against his hard-on. Her words from a few minutes ago echoed through his head: ‘I love fucking you almost as much as I love you’.
“I love you too,” he said, realizing he hadn’t said it back, and thrust inside her.
She cried out, loud and sharp, and pushed her hips back against his. He hoped to hell and back that no one was waiting in the woods wanting to hurt them again, because he was powerless to stop, incapable of doing anything other than rocking into her wet heat again, relishing the way her tight pussy stretched around his hard dick. There’d be no pulling out of her until he’d come deep inside her hot, clenching body.
