by Beth Rhodes
“What?” Tan brushed his hand down her back, and the motion sent tendrils of pleasure across her skin.
She hummed. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Hm.”
With a nervous laugh, she sighed. “I haven’t been with anyone since before I dated Gabriel.”
Tan opened his eyes, stared down at her. “Really? You never—”
She shook her head. “Most people assume,” she cleared her throat, “but I’d recently come out of a relationship with another skater. I’d burnt out on sex—”
“I didn’t know burning out on sex was possible.”
She snorted a laugh, loved him for trying to keep the conversation light. Shit. She was totally falling in love with him. “With competition and training, there was time for little else. And the sex offered a release dinner and a movie never could.”
“I get it. The guys who come back from a mission are prone to the same…needs after an intense operation.”
Liz peeked around the edge of his computer then picked it up and set it aside.
She trailed her fingers down his six pack and circled his navel, brushing at the soft hair on his abdomen. “It’s okay for a while, but it doesn’t last. There were times, I wanted to get away. Take a weekend to lie on the beach, sip some wine, and read the paper with someone who cared about me. You know what was crazy about that?”
He shook his head and kissed her there on her forehead, making her inside melt.
“The guys I’d been dating until Gabriel would have bored me out of my mind. They loved skating—like I did, and they loved themselves. It really was a big pool of selfish in those rinks.” She pressed her hand against his chest and sat up. “Don’t get me wrong. There were good people. I’m making it sound awful. But I think, deep inside, I knew I couldn’t handle anything real, so I was drawn to the people who considered me the Ice Bitch.”
“I think I’m still waiting for that weekend away.”
“I can’t give you a weekend away. But, we could get out today—”
Liz grinned. “Really?”
“Yeah.” His hand tugged on her hair and found her neck where he rubbed the tight tendons. “Might be good to do something recreational, something a little less serious.”
So excited, she bounced then flopped herself into his lap. “Thank you. It’ll be so much fun. Oh,” she started, and sat up straight. “Can we go to the movies?”
“No,” he answered shortly.
She frowned, then smiled an instant later. “Okay. Fine.”
“After the break, though, we’re going to go through this list and see if we can find a connection to you.” He quickly doused her enthusiasm. Women were being killed in Raleigh.
They would never be able to enjoy a day off again.
~ 25 ~
Claire’s insides shook. She whimpered through layers of duct tape, but the ache in her throat after hours of bondage stopped her and she tried to swallow. Her feet hurt, and she thought perhaps they had been cut. Her side hurt, too. Everything hurt.
“Everything was fine, and now she is going to ruin everything.” Crazy Bitch paced in front of her.
Though she usually talked to herself at each visit, this time she was ranting about another girl. A tear streamed down Claire’s cheek, as she held herself in check. She had to listen, had to escape. She would escape.
“A whore,” Crazy Bitch muttered, tugging on a length of her own hair. “She’ll use her body to seduce and tempt—again.”
Claire frowned. How many times had she heard those very words? Been accused of flaunting?
Crazy Bitch walked closer and peered down at Claire.
Claire blinked, not bothering to avoid coming face-to-face with the woman who obviously intended to kill her. Hadn’t she been through worse in her lifetime? Death wasn’t the punishment people thought. She lifted her chin and met the woman’s gaze.
Crazy Bitch blinked and took a step back.
Claire did not want to die. She was not going to let this insane woman introduce her to her maker. Three years since the attack. Two years since her daughter had been born, a result of the attack. One year to lose fifty pounds.
She still had a lot of weight to lose, and she was going to lose it…and not by decomposition, either. She had not come this far to let some skinny-ass bitch take it all away.
“No!” Crazy Bitch held a hammer, smacked it against Claire’s legs. “You are nothing but a liar, and this is your punishment—”
The soft ring of a cell phone stopped the tirade.
Claire let the pain clear her head, focus her, even as she swallowed her cry.
Closing her eyes, she let the voice fill her head so she wouldn’t forget, the sound of indignation, or the underlying anger. As she had over the last day or two, Claire worked the ties on her hands. Slowly twisting and pulling against the rough twine.
Silence stopped her. Crazy Bitch was leaving?
The hatch at the top of the steps slammed open. Sun streamed in. She was leaving through the outside door?
Claire turned towards it and struggled even more violently against the binds. The morning glow of the rising sun was out and the sight of it built a fire of desire inside her. She cried behind the tape, begged without words, but the woman disappeared without looking back and the hatch slammed shut. Claire waited for the sound of the lock sliding into place.
But it never came.
***
“Can we go to IHOP for breakfast?” Liz pulled her hair up, tying it into a loose bun on top of her head as he took a leak in the toilet next to the sink. “Do you always pee around clients?”
“Shit,” he said, zipping quickly. The truth was, he hadn’t even thought about it. He was used to being comfortable around women. And peeing, which he did unobtrusively, was just nature. “I’m sorry. Really sorry.”
When he went to the sink to wash his hands, she leaned into his shoulder, circled his waist with her arms, and hooked her thumbs into his waistband. He lifted an arm and wrapped her head, pulling her closer and then tilting her chin up so he could kiss her lips.
He didn’t want to say no.
What harm would it be if she were with him?
They could go to IHOP and have breakfast.
Getting her out of his apartment would ease the strengthening connection. Give them a chance to breathe.
Or perhaps it would backfire on him and make him fall even closer to the point of no return. “If we’re going to eat pancakes smothered in syrup, let’s plan to go to the gym later as well.”
She pouted. “Fine, but only because it means we’ll have an entire day out of this place.”
“Hey,” he objected.
“I love it here, I mean,” she answered, batting her eyelashes.
Her expressive eyes, beautiful stormy gray eyes. “Can I invite An?”
Those eyes widened a fraction. “Of course.” She whacked him on the shoulder, good-naturedly—he hoped. “Why are you even asking?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t normally, to be honest. I don’t like her in harm’s way. But, it has been a while since anything happened, and it would be nice to see her in more than a brief passing.”
“The work is hard on your family life.” She deduced with a nod of her head. “I won’t get in the way of that, Tan. Call her. I’m starving. We can have breakfast and then go to a museum or the arboretum or something. Just for the morning?”
She was planning an outing as if it didn’t mean he was going to have to pull in an entire team as backup. But it had been long enough. “Sure. For a couple hours. No more, Liz. And when I say move, you move. Got it?”
She nodded her serious face and then grinned and stood on tiptoes to kiss him.
He couldn’t help it. He spanked her rear as she left him to get ready.
Twenty minutes later, he guided Liz and his sister to the back of the restaurant and sat in the booth in the corner. “Thanks Tammy,” he said to the waitress.
“I guess you’ve b
een here before,” Liz stated, as a question, with a playful twinkle in her eye. He really liked this side of her. “I’m surprised we’ve haven’t run into each other before.”
“He brings me here when Mom can’t make Sunday services.”
Heat rose on his neck. “It’s nothing.”
“He doesn’t go to services. Mom says he might have lost his way, but he’ll come around.”
Liz chuckled, covering her mouth as she did so.
“Enough, An. She doesn’t need to know all my dirty secrets.”
He ordered a lot. If Liz claimed she was hungry, it was nothing compared to what he was going to put away right now. “I’ll have one of everything,” he said to Tammy when she came back.
“He says that every time.” An took a sip of the water the waitress set in front of her.
“An, quit it.” He laughed and gave his order.
“Leave her alone,” Liz piped in, nudging him in the side. She ordered a stack of pancakes and an omelet. “These are important facts.”
He watched An’s smile blossom on her face, and when she caught his gaze, he winked. He wanted Liz to like An and vice versa. Because he knew if there was any hope for him and Liz, it would have to include his family. Just the thought sent nerves fluttering through his stomach.
They ate and the silence was comfortable. When the bell on the door jingled, he’d check out the newcomer, but trusted that Craig and Malcolm were also watching the place.
An would check out Liz every few minutes, and he could tell she was thinking, but then she’d go back to eating as well. “Tan tells me you’re in school, An.”
She hummed in response, with a shrug and a nod. “I’m taking a class at the community college. But just one.”
“What kind of course is it?” she asked, taking another bite of her pancakes.
“It’s math. I need extra help in math. When I finish this course, I’ll get my high school diploma plus have the college credit. Isn’t that good?”
“That is great,” Liz answered, smiling. “I had a lot of tutors growing up because I practiced so much. When my senior year finally came, I was behind, too. I needed to do two sciences in order to get my diploma. But I didn’t need to do an English, either.”
An was studying her, a spark of interest lit in her eyes. Tan held his breath as he listened, trying not to seem too interested in how Liz was drawing her sister into the conversation like a stranger hadn’t been able to do for a long time.
“Did Tan tell you about my shop?”
An nodded her head. “You make costumes for the ice skaters.”
“Would you like to see it?” Liz turned her head, and her hand came over to touch his leg under the table. As soon as she connected, she let go, as if she hadn’t meant to do it. “Let’s drive by the shop. We can go in and show An. And not too far from there is the arboretum. Can we go? I swear, that’s all I’ll ask for today.”
She was bouncing a little in her seat.
His peripheral view showed one of An’s shy smiles begin… “You beg,” she stated, and Liz laughed. “I guess I do, An.”
Tan didn’t usually get primal, but the thought of Liz begging had him thinking of her in his bed. Her glance his way, and that laughter in her eyes…
“We can do that,” Tan agreed, because how could he not? Seriously, so in trouble with this woman who captured and related to his autistic sister like it was perfectly normal. Women always shied away from out-of-the-ordinary. “I’ll let the guys know the plan and then we can get out of here.”
And when they did leave, he even went so far as to offer his hand as they stood out of the booth. Maybe it was make-believe…
He might need a serious talk down from someone with a realistic view of how this was going to end. But, for today, he was just going to enjoy the company of Liz Whitney…
As if there was nothing standing in the way of having more with her.
***
“No, no, no, no.” She chanted the words, over and over. Bitch. That bitch. She would have it all, again. She would take what she wanted and leave nothing for anyone else. Always the spoiled brat.
No more, she thought as she hacked at the hunk of meat on the cutting board in front of her. Red blood splattered on her white blouse. “She thinks she can get away with fooling everyone?”
Hack. More blood landed on her shirt, the red grew, bled out and turned a pretty pink. “Pretty pink,” she said and tossed the chopped meat into a frying pan. “Elizabeth Whitney, I hope you enjoy tonight and take your newest lover. Poor, poor, stupid, dead woman. You never should have crossed me.”
~ 26 ~
Claire woke to silence and the amazing smell of some kind of beef being seared in a pan. Her stomach rumbled from the hunger. She was going to starve. It was as if Crazy-Ass woman had forgotten about her. Crazy Bitch disappeared two days ago.
Hadn’t come back. No more drugs, either, which was working out for her. She’d finally been able to start tracking time. And she knew for a fact, the cover at the top of the steps hadn’t been locked.
She worked the ropes on her hands again, bit back against the pain, which came with every movement. Today was the day she was going to get away. She was going to find her son. She was going to live.
The scabs on her wrists scraped against the twine and she bled again.
This time, she didn’t stop, merely tucked the pain down into that deep hole in her mind where pain and the past mingled. Her breath shortened as the rope slipped, farther than it had in any attempt before. “Come on,” she muttered.
Giving up was not an option this time. She wasn’t a victim. “I am not a victim,” she whispered, then laughed as rope moved over the heel of her thumb. “Yes, yes. Yes.”
Skin peeled and blood dripped down her hands as she wiggled out of the last of her bonds. With her hands free, she let out a sob, biting back the urge to let loose. Not yet. Too soon. Keep quiet.
Her arms were numb, tingling with pain, so she had to sit. Wait.
The door upstairs rattled, making her heart stop.
No. No. No.
Claire crossed the room and reached for the pipe, sitting with the other household tools. She stepped into the shadow of the of the stairs, waited for a chance to take the evil woman down.
A phone rang.
The rattling stopped.
Claire held her breath.
Waited.
Waited some more.
But no one came.
Another moment later, Claire listened as an exterior door upstairs opened and then slammed closed. The familiar silence of being alone made her sob in relief.
She was alone again.
***
Tan wanted her to get some sleep, but she stayed at the dining room table, working on the finishing touches of her show pieces. He carried a glass of water and stood in the doorway to watch her. He was getting used to her being in his private place.
Strangely enough, he liked it. He’d catch her at the oddest moments, studying the backyard or going through his cabinets, and once, he caught her moving his cups from one cabinet on the right side of the oven to a cabinet on the other side. He especially liked it—like now—when she would pull out her designing work. So intense. She’d fall into concentration like it was a colorful pit of plastic balls.
“Hey,” she said, looking up from the beadwork.
He stepped into the room and handed out the glass. “Drink?”
Her smile was the sweetest thanks he’d ever received—his entire life. It made him stare at her, wanting to keep looking. Her face had been branded into his mind. His glance took in the work going on.
“Doesn’t your back hurt after a while?”
“I’m okay,” she answered with a shrug before coming over and kissing his cheek. “At the shop, I have a table that stands about yay-tall,” she gestured up near her chest, “and it has a tilting surface, so I can pin the material and do bead work standing up.”
He frowned. “We should ha
ve brought it here.”
“I’ll be fine.” She faced off with him, and he wanted to talk to her…or touch her. Okay, touch her. “I should get back to work,” she finished, startling him out of his daze.
“Right. Hawk will be here any minute as well.”
She smiled, nodded at him, and then shooed him with a wave of her hands. “Go on. We’ll play later, I promise.”
He groaned, his insides tightening with need to be with her. He took one of those waving hands in his own and tugged her to him. He kissed her boldy and briefly on the lips. “Holler if you need anything.”
When he’d thought she was a spoiled, rich kid with a hobby, he had no problem messing with her. But this woman was hard working, brave…fun to be with, honest, and loyal. She was worried about failing and easily angered by injustice…and sometimes, he would see this shade of insecurity.
Even after braving her new world, taking her business by the horns, jumping into the self-defense and then adding personal security to her norm, she wondered if she was making a mistake.
And the longer he waited to tell her his secrets, the more hurt she would be over them. Yet like two peas in a pod, he feared telling her. Did he need to? His family life didn’t have to touch everything. He’d spent too many years isolating himself, making the man people saw exactly who he wanted them to see.
Crossing the living room as the doorbell chimed, he saw the old couch from his mom’s den and the crocheted blanket his grandmother had made for him thirty-some-odd years go. The bookshelf in the corner had come from Thomas’ room when his mother decided to clean it out. He stopped.
He hadn’t changed. Shucking the low-income existence for the military and then Hawk Elite had only worked to an extent. And though the money was definitely better with Hawk, would he ever have enough to offer her besides long absences and worry?
The doorbell chimed again. At the door, Tan flipped the lens in the peephole before turning up the cover. Hawk stood outside at the bottom of the stairs, and Stacy was with him.
