Harvey went down like a sack of potatoes. He just collapsed at her feet, a damn hole in his head, eyes and mouth open. She screamed in his dead face, kicking at the leaves, struggling to get away from the body of the man who been dragging her by her hair only seconds ago.
The motorcycle skidded to a halt, the driver ripped off his helmet, and Jock leapt from the bike, running toward her and sweeping her into his arms. Her screams turned into great big, heaving sobs. She clung to him, bawling her eyes out as the adrenaline leaked out of her. She could barely hold her head up, but she didn’t have to. Jock was there, lifting her off the cold ground and cradling her in his lap, his big hands taking stock of her body and her limbs while she broke apart in his arms.
“Jesus, fuck, Jesus fuck,” he chanted over and over again. His big body rocked, and she curled into him, wanting to be a barnacle on his body for the rest of her life. If Jock was there, no one could hurt her.
“Wh-Whi-White,” she managed to say.
He held her tighter. “Crew’s got him. You did good, baby. You got away. You did so good.”
She let those words soak into her bones. Then she said it, not willing to wait another hour, another minute, another second. She pulled back, gripped his face, and looked him right in the eye. “I had to fight. I had to because I didn’t get to tell you that I love you.”
His body went solid around her, and his eyes did that melting thing, where they went from glacier to river, but this time, they slipped right into placid. Right into a peace she hadn’t been sure she’d ever see. Yeah, all of that, it was worth fighting for. It was worth living for.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jock heard the shower go off and he was there, rapping the door with his knuckles, not loud but insistent. “Babe, let me know when you’re decent.”
“Jock, you don’t have to come in,” Fiona’s voice filtered through the door.
He felt heat at his back and knew it was Wren and Marisol. “Babe, your feet are cut to shit. I need to look at them.”
“I know how to put cream and Band-Aids on, Jock,” she snapped, and he smiled. Fiona already had some of her fire back.
“You don’t let me in, I come in.”
There was a moment of silence, and then a heavy sigh sounded before she flung open the door. Her pale skin was pinked from the hot water, and her hair was a dripping blond sheet around her shoulders. She had a robe wrapped around her, a big one with long sleeves that covered her hands so only her fingertips poked out.
“Fiona, you want me to look at your feet?” Wren asked from behind him.
“Hey, I’m the one with nurse skills. I stitched Roarke’s freaking head.” That was Marisol.
“I don’t think she needs stitches.”
“Still, I’m the one with skills.”
Jock turned around with a growl. “Both of you, downstairs. I’ll take care of this.”
Wren pursed her lips for a moment before rolling her eyes and walking away. “Let me know if you need me, Fi!” she called over her shoulder.
“Don’t growl at me, Jock.” Of course Marisol was the one who would stay and give him lip.
“You’re crowding her,” he snapped back.
“Look who’s talking, big guy.”
“Guys—” Fiona started.
“Go downstairs. I got this,” he said to Marisol.
Her eyes flashed. “Look, I just…” Then he saw it. Those flames in her eyes died, and he saw now they were a front for the waterworks that lurked behind. Because tough Marisol was struggling to hold back tears. “I just want to make sure she’s okay.” Her voice cracked.
Well, now he had to soothe her and take care of Fiona. When the fuck did he turn into this guy? “Ah shit.” He wrapped his arms around Marisol’s shoulders, and she let him hug her for a split second before tugging away. “Don’t worry about me. Focus on Fiona. Sorry.”
“I’m okay,” Fiona said softly. “I mean, I’m not okay, but I’m okay with not being okay. Because of you all. And Jock. I just need some time and some good company and pepperoni pizza. Maybe some brownies.”
Marisol smiled, winning the struggle with crying. “Sure, I’ll take orders.” Then she turned on her heel, obviously happy to have a mission.
“Wings!” He called after her.
She lifted a hand before disappearing down the stairs. “Got it!”
“Hot as fuck!” he hollered.
“Got it!” she yelled again.
He smiled and turned to Fiona. “Ass on the sink counter. I need to see your feet. Why are you even standing?”
She gave him an annoyed sigh but hoisted herself up onto the counter. “Because I thought I was going to have to break up a cat fight between the three of you.”
“We weren’t going to have a cat fight.”
Fiona tried to hide her grin and failed.
He knelt in front of her and lifted up her feet. He had to clench his jaw so he didn’t lose it. The soles of her feet were red and raw, and while she didn’t need stitches, he worried about infection. Even though she’d just showered, he took a cotton pad and wiped them down with rubbing alcohol. After slathering them with anti-bacterial cream, he bandaged them, taped the bandages so they’d stay on, and covered her feet with thick socks.
She let him, occasionally running her hands through his hair. When he was finished, he pressed a kiss to the inside of a knee and patted her calf before he stood. “Get dressed, babe. Marisol probably threatened the pizza place with all kinds of shit if they didn’t make an especially fast delivery for you.”
Fiona laughed and it made him smile, the sound worming its way under his skin.
Thirty minutes later Jock sat in the corner of the couch, Fiona burrowed into him so deep that he thought her skin would meld with his. And he didn’t give a fuck, not one bit. He liked her there. She’d put on a pair of yoga pants and one of his T-shirts. She hadn’t asked, just snatched it out of his drawer. It was so big that it hung off one shoulder, leaving her pale skin exposed. He’d kissed that spot more than once, and each time she sighed and her body relaxed into his more.
The crew was there. They were all together because they wanted to be, and because Fiona asked them to be. He thought she needed to sleep more, but she told him the time she’d slept in the van on the way home was enough. After everything that had happened, it was now early afternoon. Fiona wanted everyone to gorge themselves on pizza and wings and so they did. Now they were done eating and talking quietly, not really wanting to relive the day, but there was no way to avoid the elephant in the room.
Marisol and Wren hadn’t left Fiona’s side. Which meant Jock had Fiona laying on him, Marisol laying on Fiona, and Wren on the floor, back against the couch, her hand holding Fiona’s. He was crowded with women and normally that would make him claustrophobic, but right now he liked having them all there, safe.
“So, you had the wrong house?” Fiona’s voice was soft and—he was glad to hear—thoughtful rather than anxious.
“Yeah,” Marisol said. “Jock took Wren’s motorcycle to get to you faster. Which I’d like to state was Wren’s idea, which shocked everyone.”
“I would throw my bike into the sea for Fiona,” Wren said with irritation.
“How did you know that was where I’d be? I’m sure he owns multiple properties?” Fiona asked.
“He does,” Jock said. “Five. One is his primary home, where we’d already set up cameras to watch. Two are apartments and wouldn’t be ideal to take a woman he’d kidnapped. One is in Florida, and it was less likely he’d fly there with you. Driving would take too long. The other was that cottage. Gotta be honest, we were all sweating he’d taken you somewhere else, but that was the best lead we’d gotten.”
“But the deed we found for Chamberlain matched a different house, which was where we went first,” Marisol said. “Township must have messed up a public record or Chamberlain paid someone off to fuck it up. No one was there, and we were about to scour the whole area, but that would h
ave taken forever. Jock took off on the bike to check some of the other houses, saw you, saw Chamberlain’s car, and phoned us quickly. Then he fucking crashed into the damn forest like an Avenger.”
“Call me Chris Evans,” he rumbled.
Fiona looked up at him, smiling a smile so damn bright that he wanted to take a picture. She was okay—he was shocked as shit that she was okay after all of this, but she was. And his girl had fought. “For real, baby, if you hadn’t run, not sure when we would have found you.”
She squeezed his hand and laid her head back on his chest. The crew had made it to Chamberlain, detained him, and waited for the authorities to arrive. Marisol had pulled some strings with her FBI guy to get them to question Jock tomorrow. He’d killed a guy, and although it had been self-defense, it had still taken what felt like an act of God for them not to arrest him right there and ask questions later. Marisol, however, was an act of God.
They’d deal with all that tomorrow. Right now, Jock had his woman laying warm and safe on his chest and everything else could fucking wait.
* * *
Fiona had a gauntlet to go through before she could go to bed. She wanted to be annoyed, but this crew had her back, had saved her life, and she loved them.
First up was Erick, who wrapped her in his arms. One thing she’d learned about Erick was that he gave great hugs. Even after losing the love of his life, Erick was not stingy with those hugs. He gave them to everyone, mostly his sister. Fiona loved that Wren had that sibling bond because Fiona had never had a sibling.
“Glad you’re back home,” he said.
“Me too.”
“You need anything, I’m close, okay?”
She nodded. “Thanks, Erick.”
Then came Roarke, who patted her cheek in his manly, thoughtful way and brushed his lips across her temple. Wren gave her a gentle hug—good hugs ran in the Lee family. “Love you, Fi.”
“Love you too, Wren.” Fiona was warm, inside and out, for the first time in a long time.
Then it was Marisol’s turn and this woman didn’t hug so much as squeeze the life out of Fiona. “Brave, beautiful girl. I got your back always.”
“I’ll return the favor sometime.”
Marisol pulled back with a grin. “Knowing me, I’ll need it.”
Then they were gone, all of them, and it was just Jock and Fiona in the townhouse. He locked the door and reached for her hand. “Tomorrow, we move. Don’t want to put you through that trauma now so Erick is watching the house overnight. But tomorrow, we gotta get gone.”
The way he said it was matter of fact, not that soft voice he’d been giving her since she got home. She swallowed and couldn’t stop the tremble in her voice. “We? As in—?”
He stepped into her space, right up against her with his hand wrapped around her neck, fingers brushing where the tracker had been embedded in her skin. “We as in you and me. As in I’m by your side, holding your hand. As in we live together, you’re in my bed, by my side. We as in I fucking love you, Fiona. I got you back, and I’m ready to do what I gotta do to keep you with me.” Then something like vulnerability flashed in his eyes, clear in the sunlight streaking through the windows. “Unless you don’t want me there.”
He was giving this to her. He was giving her a future, a life, something to do rather than just exist and live in fear. Something other than surviving. It would be a tough road with Jock; she knew that because she wasn’t stupid. He’d fall silent, he’d hide his emotions, but she was confident they could work on it.
“You really want to be there?”
“I want to be there so bad, I’m willing to bare what soul I got left.” He answered quickly, with no hesitation. “I’ll do it, then you can decide if that’s what you want to take on. But warning, it’s not pretty.”
She shook her head and lifted her hand to Jock’s cheek, swiping her thumb across his lower lip. “I saw enough to know I want it.”
His hand tightened on her hip. “Babe.”
“Kiss me.”
“That fucker get his mouth on you?”
That made her pause and not in a good way. “You need to know that before you kiss me?”
“Need to know how hard I gotta work to erase every memory of him.”
Now that made her smile. “No, Jock, he didn’t get his mouth on me. I sat in that car with his hand on my thigh, and I thought about you. Your voice and—”
“Stop, Fiona.”
“—Your touch and—”
“Got it.”
“—And everything that was you. Because it gave me reason to get back to you.”
His mouth crashed onto hers at the same time he cupped her ass and lifted. He didn’t give her time to jump, not on the balls of her injured feet. He lifted her off the ground so she could wrap her legs around his waist. His mouth licked into hers, claiming her over again, and she loved it, every single beat of his heart against her chest, every soft moan of his into her mouth—fucking loved it.
“You too tired?” he asked against her lips as he moved them upstairs to the bedroom. “We can take a rain check.”
“No.” She squirmed against him. Sure she was tired, but she’d already napped.
He wasted no time crashing into the bedroom with zero grace. He was gentle about placing her on the bed, though, but then his clothes were shed in little time, along with the sounds of fabric tearing.
She shimmied out of her yoga pants and had her shirt pulled over her head and tossed to the side when his body covered hers. “I still have my underwear on,” she whispered as his lips went to her neck.
“I know,” he said.
“Don’t you want them off?”
“Sure do, but I want to take them off myself when I’m down there. Give me time.”
Her belly dipped. Jock’s hands felt amazing—they always did—rough and calloused, yet he knew just how to touch her to make her writhe on the sheets with need.
“I’m so damn lucky to be here with you,” he murmured, and she wondered if he was saying that because he felt compelled, or because he knew she needed to hear the words. She didn’t care which was the answer because she did need to hear it. She needed to know she was loved and wanted after feeling like a piece of trash.
Jock held her like precious cargo, his big hand cupping her breast as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. She arched off the bed, gripping his hair tightly as he played her body like an instrument, using his tongue and hands.
She didn’t even have time to register that her panties were off because then her legs were thrown over his shoulders, his big hands gripped her ass, and then he pulled her to his mouth.
Jock’s tongue could work goddamn miracles. He licked her like a cone, like he was tracing the alphabet, making small humming noises that vibrated her clit better than anything battery-operated. She was soaked. She could feel it in his stubble as it brushed her inner thighs, and she could smell her own arousal as he added two fingers and plunged them inside.
She clamped her thighs around his head and shouted, “Fuck, J!” and came like a rocket. A sneak-attack orgasm she hadn’t seen coming hit her like a goddamn freight train.
Jock was over her before she finished and he kissed her, sliding his hands over her skin, caressing her like she was a diamond. “Please,” she murmured, feeling the hard heat of him against her stomach. “Come inside, J.”
After rolling on a condom he entered her, his eyes heavy-lidded as he slowly inched his way into her body. She moaned softly at the feeling of fullness as he began to slowly thrust in and out of her, his big muscular body over top, protecting her, while his hands stroked her hair at her temples. He began to say her name, just a soft chant, mostly just a movement of his lips, and it was beautiful, powerful, flowing into her and washing her clean.
She came again as he kissed her, and her contracting around him must have sent him over the edge because he thrust inside on a long moan and his dick pulsed as he came. She felt the tension leave his body, and she
didn’t mind when he gave her some of his weight; she wasn’t ready for him to leave her body yet.
He panted harshly in her ear before he finally pressed a kiss there and said, “About ready to sleep.”
“It’s mid-day,” she said.
“Don’t care. You only slept in the car on the way home.”
That was true. “Okay, well how about we talk a bit first, then sleep?”
He pulled back to look at her. “You wanna talk?”
She nodded and bit her lip. “Got some digging to do.”
“Babe, we got time.”
“I want to start now,” she whispered. “I wasted ten years, and I don’t want to waste any more.”
He closed his eyes like it hurt, and when he opened them, she saw a placid lake, right there. He was at peace. “’Kay, babe, then we’ll talk.”
She grinned.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Are you mad at me for doing what I did with the tracker?” Fiona asked softly.
They hadn’t talked much about what had happened because she’d slept on the drive. When they’d gotten home, she’d showered and ate with the crew before falling into bed. He didn’t mind that sequence of events.
“I wasn’t mad,” he said. “I was worried and a little freaked out. What you did…that was fucking selfless.” They were lying on the bed, the sheets covering them haphazardly. Jock was on his back, Fiona laying on top of him, her fingers stroking the hair on his chest. Her tits were pressed to him, and he could reach her round ass anytime he wanted. Fucking heaven.
“I never thought I’d make a decision like that.” She sighed, and her breath coasted over his skin. “But I did, and I don’t regret it. Not one bit.”
“We should find Tianna.”
She jerked up. “What?”
“Tianna. She was the one who told me who took you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I was walking around the front of the mansion looking at the women and calling your name. She walked up to me and asked who I was. I told her I was Jock, and she asked me what you called me.” Her body went still in his arms. “I told her you called me J, and that was when she showed me the tracker.”
Darkest Night Page 21
