Wicked Hunt (Dark Hearts Book 3)

by Cari Silverwood

  “I’m coming with you. Be kind. I don’t jog, often...make that ever.”

  I eyed him, wanting to question his motives, but I shrugged and set off along the beach, hugging the waterline at times then curving up to the harder sand. It was a great workout. When I stopped, below a deserted section of the shore – no houses or resort overlooked the area – it took Mavros a good three minutes to catch up.

  Smiling, I waited for him to recover his breath then I set out on the return run. I was heading down to the water with a surfboard when he got back. He tossed a you fucker at me as I approached him. I gave a thumbs-up and grinned.

  The water was cold. Autumn was coming.

  Slowly, I paddled out through the small waves.

  The splash behind me told me Mavros was swimming out too. He’d grabbed one of the other boards. If there were sharks out here, maybe they’d get rid of him for me.

  I went out twenty yards then lay there, drifting on the swells, my feet dangling and welcoming the wash of water over them.

  So peaceful.

  Until Mavros joined me.

  Except he rested there, chin on his hand, also watching the ocean.

  Okay.

  Still peaceful. The water was clear enough to see whiting and dart flick past beneath us. If I’d brought goggles I would’ve dived in and followed them.

  “There’s something I want to get out of the way. You knocked me out at the warehouse. You were wrong and I was doing the right thing. I understand why but I was thinking of taking a cricket bat with me to our next meeting. I was royally pissed off. Still am, when I think about it.”

  Not surprising. A cricket bat? He’d have needed more than that. I kept my expression on simmer. That he was right? Yeah, okay, maybe I should be saying sorry but saying anything was impossible.

  I rotated my hand where it lay before me on the surfboard, in the thumbs-up gesture. He could take that as an apology, or not. I hadn’t been compos mentis that day.

  Mavros considered that a moment then he snorted. “Okay. I’d say you owe me but we’ve both saved each other a few times. I’ve lost count of who owes what. Look, I know you’re hurting. It’s hurting us too.”

  Us? I shut my eyes. What the fuck.

  “I have to admit it hurts me more because it bothers Zorie...I think.”

  That was a relief. He didn’t want to fuck me. I smiled. If I’d said that out loud Mavros might’ve been annoyed. What I wouldn’t give to knock him off center. Smug –

  “But I will do anything it takes to help you heal. You know why? Because I like you. I don’t love you, in case you’re wondering.”

  I laughed, rocking the board.

  “Thought that’d cheer you up.”

  Narrow-eyed, I studied him. Where was this headed? Sucked that I couldn’t even call him a bastard. He seemed to have made me into a project. That didn’t bother me as much as it should. It wasn’t pity, just...engineering.

  I puffed out a breath and raised a brow.

  “I have you curious? Good. We, the three of us, have a connection, mentally. I want to try using that.”

  I shrugged. Whatever he intended, guess it couldn’t hurt.

  “Because, in case you hadn’t noticed, Zorie is drinking morning, noon, and night, ever since your I’m an island act began.”

  She was?

  I hadn’t wanted to watch her too closely.

  “And you’re going to also start trying to talk, doing exercises, and whatever those therapists told you to do.”

  That was going too far. It was my decision. I watched the sea a while longer and he let the subject be.

  When I heard him paddling, I saw that he was turning. As he steered the board around, he said a last few words.

  “I know you’ve lost your sex drive. It’s obvious. That can come back. Most likely will. But, do something other than grieving, so help me God, or I will just take her to bed and fuck her brains out.”

  I waited for him to reach the shore then disappear into the house before I reacted.

  Punching the water wasn’t half as satisfying as the tree had been. And I fell off the board. That was deliberate. I liked it under the water. It was as good as yoga for meditating.

  Everything was quiet.

  Bubbles floated upward.

  I startled a few fish and realized breathing air and living was good.

  *****

  Mavros had us doing something like yoga later that day. It wasn’t as stupid as it’d sounded, this faux-hippie get-together. We sat in a circle on the floor of the living room, joined hands, and thought healing thoughts – Mavros’s hand in my left and Zorie’s smaller one in my right hand.

  The contact with them was as enervating as grabbing a mildly live electrical wire. Living energy swam through me, buoying up my heart, my soul, making me understand how much I valued what I had.

  Part of what I had was these two.

  I closed my eyes.

  My brain filled with floating, fizzling specks and my body seemed to barely touch the floor.

  I remembered the gist of something I’d once read.

  There are people who might be with you for much of your waking hours for many years, yet when they are gone you find they’ve left the smallest of marks on you. There are others who will always mark you deeply no matter how little the time they spend with you. Those people leave you with scars and blemishes, with love kisses, with mind-bending alterations of whatever it is inside that makes you who you are.

  If I left these two I would be so much less.

  Then Zorie giggled.

  It woke me.

  Surprised, a curse word came to my throat. I made a hoarse sound that was closer to speaking than I’d yet achieved.

  They were staring at me, rocked stupid, it seemed. Maybe because I was squeezing their hands tightly...Mavros’s a little harder. That he was crushing mine too only made my determination grow.

  I released their hands and took a few unsteady breaths.

  Zorie sobered. “It’s okay. We’ll get there together. We will,” she said earnestly, picking up my hand again. “Same as we survived the silo.”

  My chest and my eyes ached at how much love I could feel coming from her. I needed to make sure I didn’t fail her for lack of trying. I nodded and kept nodding. I would start doing those physiotherapy exercises, today.

  “I can feel the difference in you.” That was all Mavros said but the subtle approval there, in tone and words, was...interesting.

  I gave him a thumbs-up. As he went to get up, I held out my hand. He hesitated then grasped mine.

  I sent him a thanks in the only way I could, in my thoughts, then I shook his hand. Whether he felt my thought, I couldn’t tell, but around his eyes crinkled and his mouth drifted into a smile.

  The man had a way about him I was beginning to appreciate. So damn restrained and calculated, but genuine.

  He rose to his feet, dusted off, and left the room. I gathered Zorie to me and kissed beneath her ear then untangled myself from her, found pen and paper, and sat with her again.

  I wrote some words. Writing was a sucky way to communicate feelings. Still, I needed to say this.

  I want to want you. I remember everything but I can’t. Not yet.

  “Heyyy.” She snuggled into me, kissing me on the lips. “I can wait. Besides, what you were before, in Thailand especially, it wasn’t the you I want to be with. I can wait. I think you’re just changing.”

  Change. I’d pray to any gods that existed to get myself back again, whole.

  And Mavros?

  Her mouth and face went through mild contortions for a few seconds. She was agonizing over my question. I scribbled some more.

  You don’t know?

  “No. I can’t help wanting him. It’s part of the mesmer thing and that messes up my reactions. I can’t be sure how I feel and I think he wants more than just sex. And that, all of us together? It’s kind of scary. Honestly. I don’t know.”

  “Hmmm.” I
brushed hair from her face and ear. Like always, I found myself fascinated at the delicacy of her features. While I thought, I wound her red hair around my forefinger.

  The truth? I could see him with us to protect Zorie from what I might do, but he also seemed to belong. For that to work out, she had to feel that too. He couldn’t make her be with him anymore, thank the fucking heavens above.

  Even if he could, would he? Of course, I’d toss him off the balcony first.

  Though Zorie appeared content, I wondered how much baggage she had from the past few months. Her foot had healed, so had all the cuts and bruises, except for a small scar on her forehead. She hadn’t said anything but I wasn’t the easiest to confide in at the moment. For all I knew, she was sleeping one hour a night. Her gnawed fingernails were new.

  Is there anything you want to tell me? About anything?

  Then I thought some more and added:

  Are you hurting?

  I showed it to her.

  Though she stared at me a while, eventually she said, “No.” But she hugged me so tightly and for so long that doubt crept in. Then I knew for sure. She was lying.

  The spoken word was best. I needed to talk again.

  Chapter 40

  Zorie

  The catamaran boat cruise around the island was a great idea. Luxurious enough to bring a smile to anyone’s face. Early enough so we could enjoy the sun without being frizzled.

  And the cocktails...

  I shielded my eyes and perused the tray the waiter had before me. A Pink Sonata was what he’d called the frosted concoction waiting for me in a champagne glass. It fizzed with bubbles and looked creamy.

  “It won’t poison me?” I smiled.

  “No, ma’am. These are delicious. I’ve tried them myself.”

  “Cool. Thank you.” I lifted the glass from the tray and took a hefty gulp.

  The iciness slipping down my throat was both a shock and a treat with the warm sun bathing my legs. I’d opted for a broad-brimmed white hat that was possibly out of an old Hollywood movie, butt-hugging white shorts, and a petite lacy top over my bikinis.

  Memories intruded, cloaking the sunlight, like they did most days.

  Pain and shooting.

  The blood. The glass sticking out of and through my foot.

  The terror of Wolfe carrying me away to a place where no one could find me, bouncing on his shoulder, watching the barely visible floor go past, as if we travelled in a surreal land where no one else could go. That nightmare claimed me more than most.

  It was worse in nightmares than in reality.

  I shivered.

  Grimm didn’t need to know it. He had more than enough of his own worries.

  Maybe one day when we found our feet again. When I felt secure enough.

  Everything was messed up. We were getting there, slow and steady.

  Mavros leaned on the opposite rail, admiring the sea whipping past beneath the boat. Every so often spray would leap up and splash most of us but he didn’t seem to mind or notice. The boat was large enough to take twenty passengers but only three others were out here at the stern.

  And there was Grimm, of course, preoccupied with a paperback, sci-fi novel. He lay sprawled along the seat beside me with his head on my lap. He’d up and kissed me this morning at the breakfast table. My toes had curled and I’d wondered if it’d go farther, but no.

  Promising though, as in very.

  I brushed my fingers through his hair, amused at how the strands were lengthening and wondering when he’d get to tie it back again. Many months, probably. I hoped he wouldn’t trim it again. This’d started after the head wound – cutting it short. I’d shot him in the chest that day and almost killed him.

  The chill that generated...

  Again, memories soured the day, drawing the color from it. I shook my head, banishing the past.

  “Good book?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mmm.” I smiled down at him, trying not to put on a goofy grin.

  I loved hearing him speak again. It’d come back slowly over several weeks but he and Mavros had been practicing together, more and more. If there was anyone who was a good instructor, it was Mavros. It seemed as if he’d memorized all the lessons the therapist had sent Grimm.

  Once, Mavros had surprised me watching them. I’d been caught smiling soppily. Grimm had been trying to mimic the sounds used in speaking, after Mavros said them. They were like teacher and pupil, exactly so. With Mavros wearing a pair of dark-rimmed glasses, they’d blown up my cute-and-lovable meter. The stern look he’d sent me, from over top of the glasses, had only made my grin even sillier.

  Still, it gave me pause, whenever I thought about what he did. I suspected him of ulterior motives. He wanted me, wanted in my pants, my bed, my mind. He was seducing me via Grimm. Not once had he taken liberties. Now if he had, strangely, I might see it as more honest. Holding himself back? I’d rather he...

  Shit. Enough. I swallowed the rest of the cocktail in one go, giving myself throat freeze. Then I wriggled from under Grimm so I could take the glass inside. The waiter had disappeared.

  The boat chose that moment to whack into a bigger wave than normal, and I staggered, found myself at the bare rail where the seat ended. Another wave hit, the boat tilted, and the momentum was enough to flip me over the rail. I plunged into the cold, deep ocean.

  Down, down. My hair tangling past my face.

  I even lost the glass.

  And my hat.

  Fuck.

  I could swim, I wasn’t actually tipsy and I kicked and swam back to the surface where I waved my hand high in the air. I’d heard a scream as I flipped. They knew I’d fallen overboard. Though the shore was several hundred yards away, I wasn’t worried, apart from that innate fear you get when your legs are dangling below you in open sea, like bait.

  I wanted to pull them up to my chin.

  Sharks were possible but exceptionally unlikely. The boat was already turning and people were yelling at me that they were coming back.

  A life vest and a life-saving ring were tossed overboard. They curved against the blue sky as they were flung and I smirked. This was going to be a story to tell. I spat out some salt water and tried to wipe my face, to clear my eyes of the sting, only to have another wave lift me up and splash me.

  Lucky that treading water was easier in the sea than in a pool – I’d rather float on my back than tread water due to my small feet being hopeless at it.

  Then I noticed the two people swimming toward me, one of them had retrieved the orange ring and was towing it. That was Mavros. Grimm reached me first and he had the yellow vest.

  “My heroes!” I mock greeted them, grinning.

  It was all kinds of awesome.

  “Was that a joke? After falling off the boat?” Grimm pushed the vest at me. “On.”

  “In mid-ocean?” But I tried.

  “It was. I think Zorie is drunk.” Mavros perched on the ring with one arm around it and helped me get my arms through the armholes.

  The boat, being large-ish, was taking its time turning back.

  “I’m not drunk. Stop being assholes. I was drowning, remember?” I replied, my tone as waspish as I felt warranted. The men deserved it. My degree of drunkenness was point zero zero zero on any scale.

  “Most drunk.” Grimm had this uncompromising look in his eye that instantly made me hot. Memories of occasions when that look meant sex...I couldn’t help the reaction.

  “Not.” I pouted, deliberately teasing now. Crazy but I didn’t care the where or how, or anything.

  I was bobbing in the waves, with two glorious muscular guys crowding me. I swear I could feel heat radiating off them through the water and my pussy was getting swollen. My nipples, already tight due to the cold water, were aching.

  Absolutely definitely insane. The boat was coming and all three of us were eyeing each other like we wanted to get naked.

  “What a pity her shorts fell off when she fell in,�
� Mavros murmured from behind me.

  Grimm glanced past my shoulder but only smiled. That was a subtle sort of permission being given to the other man.

  They were co-operating against me.

  “Heyyy.” As if that wouldn’t make me even hotter... Maybe I did like the idea of a threesome, providing Grimm was fine with it. I sort-of scowled.

  Under the water, Mavros’s hands were tugging at my shorts, sliding the saturated cloth downward and almost taking my bikini bottoms with them. At the same time, Grimm had moved in and was sucking on my neck and groping my breasts, squeezing one then the other, hard enough to make me gasp.

  “I’ve got a hard-on,” he said plainly, nibbling his way up to my mouth and talking some more as he kissed and bit my lips. “I’d fuck you here if the boat wasn’t coming.”

  “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I whispered, squirming in their hands. “You can’t say that to me after all this time without sex! Can we all just sink below the waves for a while and do it?” I turned and found Mavros’s mouth there waiting for me. The kisses from him while Grimm did nasty biting on my neck set me on fire.

  Thank god we were in water.

  They both laughed. Assholes, but gorgeous too. My men. Never thought I’d think that.

  Mavros cupped my ass then slid his warm hand down between my legs and wriggled a finger into me. “I would if I could breathe underwater. Are you ready for two cocks in you?”

  I swore quietly, panting already. How could I not be, with him doing what he was doing?

  He rested his fingertips just inside my entrance and my eyes half-closed. Then he pushed farther into me and played in circles. The erotic pleasure spread, syrup-like, making me squeeze down on him.

  The waves washed me up and down, pushing my body onto his fingers, so I was effectively riding him.

  “Don’t tease.” My protest was dubious even to me. My voice had come out husky. Being molested in mid-ocean was fun but it might also be horribly humiliating. “The boat is going to be here soon! You can’t –”