Nauti Deceptions

by Leigh, Lora

  It finished here, just as he said.

  “No matter who you have to destroy?” Rowdy asked.

  “No matter who’s destroyed,” Cranston affirmed. “No matter what it takes.”

  Zeke held Rogue closer, already feeling the chill inside his soul because he knew he would have to let her go, walk away again, and walking away would destroy him more than the truth of his past ever could.

  Pressing his lips to her ear he whispered. “You fill me. Remember that, Rogue. For the first time in my life, I knew what love was supposed to be.”

  Her head shook against his chest as another sob tore from her throat. Her arms were like silken bands of steel around his neck, and God knew he didn’t know if he had the strength to force her to release him.

  “I didn’t use you.” He kissed the top of her head, her forehead. “I was helpless against you. Know that, Caitlyn Rogue. I couldn’t have walked away for anything. Even my own life.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  But he did walk away.

  A week later Rogue stood in the parking lot of what had once been the Bar and stared at the debris with a sense of … relief.

  She’d lost everything she owned except the Harley, but she was thankful she had a reason to walk away from it now. An era had come to an end. The Bar was gone, the dangerous Dayle Mackay and his rabid revolutionists were gone. Jonesy was gone.

  She shoved her hands into the pockets of her pants and let her gaze wander over the blackened remains of lumber where the walls had toppled in.

  “So what now?” Her father’s arm went around her shoulders as his tall, sturdy body gave her a place to lean.

  She shrugged at his question. “I bought out Natches Mackay. I guess I’m part owner in a restaurant now.”

  Her father gave a heavy sigh as she looked up into the strong features of his still-handsome face.

  “I want you to come home,” he told her as her mother, Brianna Walker, moved to her other side. “Damned house is too quiet. With your sister married and gone, and damned John won’t even stay the night. The nest is too empty.”

  She grinned at that. “Sorry, Dad. This is home.”

  Somerset was home. Lake Cumberland was home.

  All she had left to do was to get over one arrogant, too-sexy sheriff and her life would even out. One day she might even sleep through the night without crying.

  “What about Zeke?” her mother asked as though reading her thoughts. “He called again last night.”

  He had called every night for the past three nights. She refused to answer the phone; she refused to talk to him. He was back on the job now, the crime that had been committed when he was a child had never been mentioned, and for that, she was glad. His father had betrayed him, tried to destroy him and his future. No man should have to pay for that.

  “I don’t want to talk about Zeke.” She didn’t want to cry again. The pain was like a festering wound inside her soul that refused to heal.

  He had used her. He may not have suspected Jonesy of being the killer he was seeking, but he hadn’t been honest with her, either. He hadn’t told her he was fucking her so the killer would believe he was distracted by her and not giving his attention to tracking him. He hadn’t told her that the only reason he had come to her bed was to further the goal of capturing that killer.

  I was helpless against you. Know that, Caitlyn Rogue. I couldn’t have walked away for anything. Even my own life.

  He had whispered those words before he had left with Cranston. But he had still left. He had walked away from her without a backward glance to help Cranston round up the final straggling members of the organization he had fought to bring down.

  James Maynard had been arrested, though he was now free on bond due to his cooperation with the Department of Homeland Security and the Justice Department. Gene Maynard, she had learned, had been helping DHS all along.

  There had been other arrests in Louisville as well as Frankfort, and according to Alex Jansen, the Freedom League was now nothing more than a very bad memory.

  “Just come home for a while,” her father tried again. “A month.”

  She shook her head again as a smile touched her lips. He kept trying; she had to give him credit for that.

  “I’m ready to go back to the apartment now, Daddy. It should be repaired enough,” she told him as she turned into his embrace and hugged him quickly. “Just take me home now.”

  There was a small moment of silence. Her parents were sharing that look, she thought. The one they shared whenever they didn’t know what to do with the children they had raised.

  “Fine.” Her father finally sighed heavily. “But if you’re not coming home, then I’m hanging around awhile. Dawg Mackay offered us the use of his houseboat now that’s he’s moved into the house he built. I think we’ll take him up on that.”

  She almost winced. God, would Lake Cumberland survive her parents? Even for a few days? Surely they wouldn’t stay any longer than that.

  “You should go home, Daddy,” she began to argue the decision.

  “Caitlyn, your father said we’re staying. The decision has been made.” She was using her best “mommy” voice. The one that all three of her strong-willed children understood clearly. That was the final word. Period.

  “Fine, but you know he’s just going to cause trouble while he’s here,” she informed her mother as they made their way back to the limo they had ridden in from the airport in Louisville. “He’s a trouble magnet, Mom. Him and John. John’s already causing trouble and he hasn’t been here two weeks yet.”

  “I’m certain we’ll all survive,” her mother stated. “We’ll take you home, then go check out Mr. Mackay’s houseboat. It looked simply charming when we drove around the docks earlier. Did you know your father used to have a boat on the lake as well? When he was much younger.”

  “No.” Rogue looked at her askance. “And I’m sure I don’t want to know about it, either. Don’t gross me out with your tales of dating Daddy. Please.”

  Her mother laughed as they sat back in the limo and the vehicle pulled away.

  Rogue gazed back at the charred remains of the Bar and wondered about this turn in her life. She was twenty-six years old, and she had just lost the only man she could have ever imagined loving. The knowledge that he had walked away from her that night, claiming to have used her, pushing her back to be protected like a little china doll while he went off to fight the bad guys, still had the power to hurt.

  It wasn’t that he had left her there. He had believed she would be safe, she could forgive him for that. No, she was angry, she was hurt, because he hadn’t left with so much as a “see you later.” She could have died believing he had felt nothing for her.

  It was the betrayal that hurt. When he needed her he hadn’t wanted to accept that she would be there for him. He hadn’t told her the full details of what he was doing and why he was doing it. He hadn’t shared his feelings for her. He had just left her there. He could have died, been arrested for whatever, and gone from her life, and she wouldn’t have known she was any more important to him than the grass under his feet.

  Because he had lied to her. He had let her think he was simply using her, when she had known, known to the bottom of her soul that he cared.

  “Rogue?” her mother spoke her name softly. “When you’re young it’s very easy to let pride get in the way of what’s most important in your life. Don’t make that mistake.”

  She turned away from her mother’s compassionate gaze and swallowed tightly. Was it just pride?

  “He lied to me,” she whispered. “He left me, denying he cared anything for me.”

  “And if he hadn’t come back?” her father asked. “If he’d died, Rogue? He was looking out for you.”

  She fought the tears that would have fallen. “He just left.”

  “And perhaps he had no other choice,” her mother said gently as the limo turned into Somerset and headed for the old town center where her new apartment was
located. “Men aren’t always as logical as they think they are. Sometimes, Rogue, it’s up to the women who love them to point that out to them.”

  “And sometimes it takes a good swift kick,” her father drawled in amusement. “Your mother has delivered a few of those over the years.”

  She stared out the window, her throat tight with unshed tears as she fought the pain that never seemed to ease, the chill that she swore went clear to her soul.

  God, she missed Zeke. She ached for him.

  “Rogue.” Her mother touched her arm gently as the limo pulled into the back lot of the restaurant. “Perhaps you should just talk to him.”

  She saw the Tahoe then, the sheriff’s emblem emblazed on the door as it opened and Zeke stepped out.

  He was dressed in jeans again, that damned badge hanging on his belt. He wore boots and a gray cotton shirt. The sun blazed around him, making his eyes appear more golden, his expression more imposing as the car drew to a stop.

  “Just talk to him, Rogue,” her father suggested gently then. “It doesn’t hurt to talk.”

  The chauffeur opened the door and she stepped out slowly, aware of the door closing behind her and seconds later the vehicle pulling away.

  Zeke leaned against the front of the Tahoe, his arms crossing over his chest, his expression imposing.

  “Took you long enough,” he growled, his voice dark, deep. His face was almost haggard. He looked as bad as she felt, as though the world had crashed in upon him as well.

  She pulled her keys from her pocket, turned, and moved for the steps of the apartment.

  Was he following her? She could feel him behind her, watching her. She felt like a rabbit beneath the regard of a hungry wolf.

  She saw him as she turned up the steps. He was behind her. Far enough away that she could tell he was deliberately keeping distance between them.

  “Is the investigation over?” she asked as she shoved the key into the door and stepped inside.

  “It’s over. They rounded the final members up the night after Jonesy was killed. They have all the evidence they need to lock them up for a damned long time.”

  Rogue nodded. “From what I’ve been hearing they didn’t have much of a chance for success anyway. A bunch of crazy old men looking for a war.”

  “That about sums it up.” His voice was clipped, cool as he stepped into the apartment behind her and closed the door. “But these crazy old coots were smarter than you’d think. And more dangerous.”

  She nodded. Yeah, she’d heard that, too. They’d killed a lot of good men and women and been responsible for even more deaths over the past thirty years.

  “How’s Gene doing?” she asked.

  Zeke blew out a hard breath. “It’s been hard on him. He didn’t even know Cammi was seeing the Walker boys. It shook him up, realizing she was hiding it from him. Makes sense why she ran off to her sisters after they were killed though. She was devastated.”

  “She loved them?” Rogue turned and stared at him from where she stood in the living room.

  “She cared a hell of a lot anyway.” He shook his head, his expression heavy. “She wasn’t aware anyone was looking for her. She thought Joe had killed Jaime and then himself, because of her. Gene’s taking care of her though. That’s the important part.”

  That was the important part, Rogue agreed. Like her father had tried to take care of her, and she had refused to allow it. Her family had gathered around her, giving advice, offering their support, and nothing helped the pain; no one could ease it.

  She stared back at Zeke now and swallowed at the lump of pain in her throat. It had been so long since she had felt his arms around her. So many nights she had cried into her pillow, aching, hurting.

  “Do you hate me, Rogue?” he asked then, standing before her, tall and so very arrogant, as though he were daring her to strike out at him. As though he expected it.

  “Would you hate me?” she asked him.

  She had wondered over the past week if she was right or wrong in how she felt. Should she punish him, or should she simply love him?

  He grimaced heavily. “I’d paddle your damned ass if you pulled something like that on me,” he finally admitted. “But son of a bitch if I would let you go, Rogue. There wouldn’t have been a night that I wasn’t trying to get into your bed anyway.”

  “I can’t paddle your ass,” she said, her voice thickening with the emotion clogging it. “What am I supposed to do, Zeke, wait until the next time you’re worried for me, scared I’ll be hurt, and you do it again? How do I know when you’re committed to me rather than your fears of losing someone?”

  His jaw clenched furiously. “You sound like Shane now. He hasn’t spoken to me since he found out what had been going on the past ten years. He’s pouting in Louisville like a child because I didn’t tell him before he left on that trip what was going on.”

  “Because you could have died while he was gone,” she snapped. “Because he loves you, Zeke. How do you think it makes us feel? To know you’d push us away so damned easily?”

  “That I’d protect you?” he growled back. “I’d hope you’d understand how important you are to me. God, Rogue, do you think I wanted to die knowing if I had told you how I felt that you would have grieved worse? Or if I was arrested and charged for a murder I committed as a child, do you think I wanted you to hold on to me when I didn’t have a future to give you?”

  “And that’s acceptable?” she cried. “Fine, Zeke, let’s turn the table. Would you accept it?”

  “Fuck no!” he yelled back. “You’re mine, damn you. No matter what.”

  “My God, listen to you.” She was in his face, almost nose to nose, anger beating a ragged tattoo in her veins. “Listen to how arrogant you are! Why should I accept it? Why shouldn’t you belong to me, too, Zeke? Do you think for one damned minute I’ll only take you when you’re safe? God, what is that, a weekend out of the fucking year?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’ll take me, period, every damned day of the year,” he snarled back. “Fine, I was a fucking fool. I was stupid. I was a dumb-fuck hick that loved his woman enough to want to protect her. So shoot me.”

  “Give me the gun.” Hands on hips, arousal and anger firing in her blood, she yelled the words back at him.

  It flooded her now. The long nights without him, the anger that he would stay away from her without telling her he loved her. That he would wait until she was angry, until she wanted to kick him, before admitting it.

  “You little hellion.” Amazement darkened his gaze and filled his face. “You stubborn little witch. You won’t even say you love me, will you?”

  “Why should I?” A pout formed on her lips as she whirled away from him. “Why should I tell you anything?”

  If she thought he was going to let her get away that easily, she was wrong. She had hoped she was wrong. Prayed she was.

  Before she could take the first step he wrapped an arm around her waist, picked her up, then strode through the apartment. Straight to her bedroom and to the bed.

  “You will say it,” he promised her, his voice filled with arousal and demand now. “Before you get out of this bed, I promise you, you’ll say it.”

  Rogue swiped the hair from her face, leaned up on her elbows, and watched him undress. He tore at his clothes. Buttons ripped from his shirt, his boots were tossed to the floor, his jeans, underwear, and shocks taken off in one swipe. When he stood before her, all dark flesh and raging arousal, Rogue swore she lost her breath.

  His cock was furiously engorged, the wide crest flushed dark and throbbing as his fingers circled the thick shaft and pumped it with several slow, erotic strokes.

  “Undress,” he ordered, his voice rough, his eyes dark.

  “You’re getting awful bossy,” she murmured, though she rose from the bed as she watched him carefully.

  She didn’t just tear her clothes off. She bent her knee and pulled off first one shoe, then the other and let them drop to the floor. Next, with
slow, exacting movements her hands gripped the hem of her light sweater and she pulled it over her head, finally shaking her hair free as his groan whispered to her.

  His expression was intent now, his face flushed. Golden brown eyes seemed darker, more predatory as her fingers went to the snap of her jeans.

  The metal closure came free easily, the zipper rasped open, and seconds later she was pushing the denim from her legs and standing before him in nothing but the wicked black lace of her thong and bra. As he watched, her hands lifted and she cupped the swollen mounds of her breasts before flicking open the plastic clip of the bra.

  “God, I’ll have a stroke before you get those panties off,” he groaned hoarsely. “Could you try to hurry, baby? Control isn’t something I have a lot of right now.”

  She smiled. Let him suffer then. He deserved to suffer for what he’d done to her. Just a little bit.

  “I should worry about your control?” she asked, her voice soft, deliberately sensual. “Really, Zeke. I’ve suffered a week now. Where have you been?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t even talk to me when I called, Rogue.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe I didn’t want a phone between us, Zeke. Maybe I wanted you. And you weren’t here.”

  She shivered as she let her fingertips trail down her stomach and imagined the touch of his fingers against her. Calloused, rough, warm.

  “You are treading a very thin line, sweetheart,” he rasped.

  “Are you going to handcuff me, Sheriff?” Her fingers dipped beneath the elastic of her thong, her breath catching as her fingertips grazed her clit.

  The look on his face was sexy as hell. Dark and primal. She wondered how long it would take him to break that incredible control of his.

  “Damn, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed out as she trailed her fingers back to her breasts and whispered a touch over her nipples.

  “Am I really?” She smiled back at him. “I’m a little short.”

  “That’s what they make those damned high heels for,” he breathed roughly. “Rogue, sweetheart, we’re reaching critical here.” His hand tightened on his cock. “Take the panties off, baby.”