Eagle

by Janie Crouch

  “Finn. . .”

  “So help me God, Charlie, if you argue with me about leaving this place, I will take you over my knee and—”

  She raised an eyebrow, feigning a casualness she didn’t feel. “We both know how that would turn out if tradition holds.”

  He almost smiled. He hid it, but she could tell. Good. If he was exasperated with her, maybe he wouldn’t realize how close to complete collapse she was.

  But her traitorous body decided to pick that moment to stop working. Everything spun. She didn’t even realize she was falling until he caught her.

  “Goddammit, Charlie. Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? We need to get you to a hospital.”

  The world spun even more as he swept her up into his arms. Like she weighed nothing. Like he had the strength to carry her for a million miles. Which he probably did.

  She wanted to remember this. She wanted to hold on to this moment. She never thought she’d be here again.

  But she couldn’t even get her arms to function enough to wrap around his neck. All she could do was collapse against his shoulder.

  It should scare her to be this helpless, but if there was one thing she knew about Finn Bollinger, it was that he wouldn’t let her fall.

  “I’m not hurt. Just that little cut.”

  She felt Finn’s fingers graze her cheek. “Jesus, you’re burning up. Let’s go.” A moment later he was tucking her gently into the passenger side of his Jeep.

  “No hospitals.” The words came out as a whisper, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t afford it.

  He shook his head. “Are you going to tell me why?”

  “Not if I don’t have to.”

  He reached over and fastened the seat belt around her. “Still so stubborn,” he muttered.

  She wanted to tell him he sounded just like Ethan whenever she mentioned starting a longer and harder book. But she couldn’t get the words to form. She could only stare at his darkly handsome face.

  “You’re going to be okay, princess.” He shook his head ruefully, then reached over and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m here. Go to sleep now, nothing’s going to happen to you.”

  And as if her body had just been waiting for him to say it, she did.

  Charlie didn’t wake up when Finn got her suitcase and loaded it into the back of the Jeep.

  She didn’t wake up when he made a phone call to Sheriff Nelson, and then Dorian, and explained about the attack.

  She didn’t wake up when he called Zac and asked if his girlfriend, an emergency room doctor, was off work and might be willing to make a house call.

  She didn’t wake up when he carried her out of the Jeep and into his bedroom.

  It was a good thing Annie was in the room checking on Charlie now, otherwise Finn would’ve been taking her to the hospital.

  “Nobody should sleep that long and hard unless they’ve been drugged or something,” Finn said to Zac as they sat in the kitchen waiting for Annie to finish and come report Charlie’s medical status.

  “Especially not Charlie,” Zac agreed. “Remember how you used to say she would do well in Special Forces because of how long she could go without sleep?”

  Sleep deprivation had been part of their survival training. Definitely not Finn’s favorite. He would rather be physically beaten than forced to stay awake for days at a time.

  He walked to the fridge and pulled out a beer, offering one to Zac.

  “It’s not just the sleep.” Finn brought the cold bottle to his lips. “It’s the fever and the fact that she weighs all of ten pounds. Jesus, Zac, what if she has cancer?”

  “Let’s not borrow trouble until we have to. Annie will tell us if further tests are needed or anything like that. How did you run into Charlie anyway? I thought you were going to some strip club to help Major Pinnock.”

  Finn took a long sip of his beer. “Charlie was working there.”

  Zac’s eyes grew big. “Dancing?”

  “Bartending.”

  “At The Silver Palace?” Zac shook his head. “I thought she was some sort of education guru. Didn’t you tell me she was working wonders tutoring Ethan?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on with Charlie.” Finn explained about seeing her at The Cactus Motel last week, then finding her there again tonight. “She still owns that condo on the east side. You can spare me the lecture, but I ran her through the Linear system last week.”

  Zac just lifted his beer in a silent salute. “I ran Annie when she first came back to town, so no judgment here.”

  Finn shrugged. “Yeah, well, you were trying to help Annie. I’m not exactly sure what my motives were. But I only got the details about her condo. At least I didn’t move into complete stalkerhood.”

  “Still plenty of time for that.” Zac grinned.

  “I won’t have to. Charlie is not leaving this house until I get some answers. That’s if she ever wakes up.”

  “She woke up for a few minutes to answer some of my questions.” Annie entered the kitchen, putting her makeshift house call bag on the table.

  Finn’s grip on the bottle tightened. “She all right? God, Annie, I think it might be cancer. Is it?”

  Annie gave him a gentle smile, then took a sip of her boyfriend’s beer as his arm came around her waist, anchoring her against him. “There’s definitely no reason to think Charlie has cancer or that anything is permanently wrong with her.”

  “Then why wouldn’t she wake up? Why did she have a fever? Why has she lost so much weight?”

  “She’s tired, Finn. That’s why she’s sleeping.”

  He slammed a hand down on the kitchen island. “There’s something a damn sight more wrong with her than just being tired.”

  Zac’s eyebrows rose. Finn didn’t blame him. Annie was here on her own free time and as a favor. “Watch it there, Eagle.”

  “It’s okay,” Annie told Zac. “He’s just concerned. Dealing with a patient’s loved ones is a part of my job.”

  Finn ran his hand over his face, not even acknowledging the loved one statement. “No, Zac’s right, Annie. I’m sorry. But you are also. I am concerned. This isn’t like Charlie. There are so many things that don’t add up.”

  “I specifically asked if she had serious health issues because if she did—anemia, an autoimmune disorder, or, like you said, cancer—I needed to know. She said she didn’t, Finn, and I believe her.”

  “Then why is she so tired? So skinny?”

  “She said she’s been working a lot. Multiple jobs. And not eating right. She gave me permission to talk to you about her medically, so you wouldn’t be too worried.”

  Zac shook his head, staring at Finn. “Why would the princess of Oak Creek be working multiple jobs?”

  Finn threw up his hands. “And why would one of them be at The Silver Palace for God’s sake? It would be one thing if she wanted to work in education full-time. After seeing her with Ethan I could totally understand why. But there? And as a bartender? I mean, if she wanted to dance, I might not like it, but at least it would be understandable. Creative outlet or some such shit. But a bartender?”

  Finn drained the rest of his beer while neither Annie nor Zac said anything, because what really could be said? None of this made any sense.

  “She has a fever from a virus,” Annie said quietly. “Her immune system has taken a hit due to her exhaustion and diet. I gave her some ibuprofen and helped her into one of your T-shirts. I’ll be surprised if the fever isn’t gone tomorrow.”

  “What does she need?” he finally asked. “What can I do to take care of her?”

  Because at the end of the day, that was all that mattered. There was no way Finn could exist knowing Charlie was on the verge of some sort of collapse.

  Annie walked over and put her hand on Finn’s arm. Her brown eyes were calm and friendly, like her smile. She was a gentle soul, so quiet and reserved. The opposite of Charlie. Annie fought if the need called for it—she’d proved that well enough wh
en she’d been attacked last month—but it wasn’t a natural part of her personality.

  Charlie, on the other hand, was a warrior. Though she be but little, she is fierce.

  God, Charlie would have a field day if she knew he was quoting Shakespeare for her.

  Annie smiled. “I bandaged the wound on her neck. It didn’t need stitches, and confirmed she was up-to-date on her tetanus shot. I wrote her a script for antibiotics since who knows where that knife has been, so you’ll need to get that filled. As for everything else, it’s my professional opinion she needs rest. Let her sleep as long as she will, which may be a lot more hours.”

  “Is that bad for her?”

  “Not at all. You can ask Zac. There are plenty of times after a double shift at the hospital that I’m dead to the world for twelve or fourteen.”

  Zac shrugged. “True. It’s a little scary, but it’s what her body needs.”

  “What about eating?” Finn asked.

  “Her body will direct her to her most important needs. Right now, it needs sleep more than food. If that changes, she’ll wake up. Then, if you can talk her into it, keep her off her feet for a couple days. Feed her nutritious, high-calorie foods. And try not to kill each other. Just because Charlie had a momentary setback doesn’t mean she’s not going to wake up swinging.” Annie reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

  “The first two are no problem. The third . . .nobody can ever promise that Charlie and I won’t kill each other.” He shrugged, then pulled Annie in for a hug. “Thank you for coming. She didn’t want to go to a hospital, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Annie walked back over to Zac, who stood so they could leave. “Charlie was never mean to me in high school. She never made fun of my stuttering like a lot of people did. I mean, I still would’ve helped her even if she had, but I just wanted you to know.”

  That didn’t surprise him at all. “Charlie may be privileged, even a snob, but she’s never been cruel.”

  “Only to you, brother,” Zac said as he led Annie toward the door. “Only to you.”

  Finn let his friends out, then checked with the sheriff to see if there was word about the addict who’d attacked Charlie. Sheriff Nelson hadn’t found the man yet, but the Cactus’s front desk clerk felt sure it was the homeless guy known as “Sam.” There was an APB out on him.

  After the call and cleaning up the kitchen, Finn couldn’t stop any longer from checking on her, cursing himself the entire way up. He had to see her. To touch her.

  Charlie this weak and defenseless scared him to death.

  He’d known her nearly half his life and she’d always brimmed with an internal power much stronger than her smaller stature suggested. A force to be reckoned with.

  Fierce.

  Something wasn’t right in the world when Charlotte Devereux was curled up in a helpless, shivering ball in the middle of his bed.

  But even through his worry, he couldn’t stop his small smile at how she’d moved into the middle. She had always been a bed hog. They’d never lived together and hadn’t gotten to sleep all night in one together often, but whenever they had, she’d thrashed around like she was running an obstacle course. He’d basically had to bear hug her the entire night to keep her still.

  He stared at the tiny mound of blankets that was Charlie. He should leave, go sleep on the couch. But instead he changed into a pair of sweatpants and got in beside her.

  Charlie woke up, aware of a feeling she hadn’t known in fourteen months, since the day she’d sublet her condo and technically became homeless.

  Safety.

  The biggest part of that came from the man who was all but wrapped around her. Finn’s leg was thrown over both of hers, his arm crossed over her torso, the weight of his chest on her shoulder pinning her to the bed. She should feel trapped, restrained. But she felt secure.

  She’d already known he was in bed with her. She had woken up at some point, starving, and he had been there. A few seconds later, he’d helped her sit up and drink one of those nutrition shake things and given her some antibiotics Annie had prescribed.

  She had gone to the bathroom, again with his help. She’d been too weak to even be embarrassed about it. Back in bed she had waited for questions, for some sort of inquisition, but it hadn’t come. He’d just pulled her back against him. She hadn’t thought she’d be able to sleep. She hadn’t wanted to. If this was going to be the only time she got to lay in Finn’s arms, she wanted to stay awake and enjoy it.

  Obviously, her body had disagreed, considering she was waking up to a bright sun outside.

  So, she would enjoy it now. She shifted a little to see him more fully. It was so ridiculous that someone as strong and powerful as Finn could be so beautiful. Her fingers itched to stroke his jaw, to touch those cheekbones that looked like they were carved from granite. To feel the rough prickle of his stubble against her fingertips.

  She wanted to rub her thumb against that tiny place above his nose where his brows met and ease the stress lines that had formed there over the years, visible even in sleep.

  She wanted to kiss that face, every single inch of it, repeatedly. One kiss for every day she had lost. For every day she hadn’t been with him.

  God, she wanted to do so much more than kiss him. Or kiss so much more of his body than just his face. Having him so close brought parts of her own alive that had lain dormant for too long, in her struggle to just survive.

  She wanted to push his heavy weight off and climb on top of him, then lick and nip her way down his chest and see if he still made that seductive groan.

  She wanted to drag the sweatpants down those sexy hips with her teeth. If the hardness pushed up against her hip right now was any indication, they’d both be groaning after that.

  “You no longer sleep like you’re caught in some sort of wrestling match.” His voice startled her out of her seductive daydream. She should’ve known he wouldn’t stay asleep once she moved.

  What could she tell him about her nocturnal changes? That sleeping in her car five or six days a week over the last year had taught her how to keep still? Or that she’d learned it long before then, during her marriage, when the thought of touching her husband while she slept was so abhorrent?

  “I guess I finally grew up.”

  Those green eyes of his still didn’t open, but at least he didn’t move away from her, although she knew the withdrawal was coming.

  Tensing, she waited for it.

  Damn it. When had she become this person? When had she become someone who lay passive and silent, waiting for something bad to happen to her when the good thing she so desperately wanted was literally lying on top of her?

  She. Wanted. Finn.

  He might still push her away, and honestly, she couldn’t blame him if he did. But she wasn’t going to be a coward. She’d been many things in her life, but never a coward.

  “We should get up, so you can eat,” Finn said. “Annie said you need as many calories in you as possible.”

  He hadn’t moved, but she could feel him inching away from her.

  “There’s something I think I need more than food right at this particular moment.” She meant it to come out sexy, but to her ears it sounded a little desperate, which wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

  Now those green eyes opened. “Sleep? Annie also said to let you as much as you could.”

  Not a coward, she reminded herself. “You. I need you.”

  Heat burned through his eyes for just a second before chivalry doused it. His leg slid off hers. “Let’s just go have breakfast. You were sick last night, running a fever—”

  “I’m not now.”

  “—and so exhausted that you didn’t even wake up when I carried you from the Jeep to the bed.”

  She brought her hand up to touch that jaw. Feel that stubble. She rubbed her thighs together to ease some of the ache there. “I’m not exhausted now.”

  He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t ease into her touch either.
“Charlie . . .I’m just not sure this is what you really want.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Since when have I not known what I want?”

  He rolled the rest of the way off her, onto his back, then threw an arm over his eyes. “Jesus, last night you damn near scared me to death. And I’m not talking about the attack by that drug addict. I’m talking about you. The state you were in. I’ve never seen you look so . . .little.”

  Something clenched deep in her heart. Finn had always respected her strength. He’d never treated her as less than his equal. Even when they’d fought—which, given both their strong personalities, had been a lot—they’d always respected each other’s opinions and strength. And now he thought hers was gone.

  It wasn’t.

  She sat up and threw one of her legs over his hips, so she was straddling him and trailed her fingers along the arm covering his eyes. “I was little, Finn. You’re right. Last night, I was weak, scared, and little. And you were there for me, just like you’ve always been when I needed you. Strong, courageous, and big.”

  His arm moved, and she could see in his eyes the demons he was fighting. There were a lot of years between them. A lot of pain. A lot of lies.

  She reached down and grasped his bottom lip between her teeth, biting gently. He hissed, and his hips pressed up against hers.

  She let go of his lip and whispered, “I’m not little now. Not weak. I know what I want—what I need—and that’s you. I owe you an explanation, I know that. But first give me this. Give me you, strong, courageous, and big with me. Around me. Inside me.”

  His growl was her only warning.

  Her shirt was ripped over her head and he had her flipped around and tucked under him almost before she could finish the last word. She’d forgotten how fast he could move.

  “Damn you, woman, you have always known how to push my buttons.” He fisted her hair tight, pulling her head to the side, giving him access to her neck on the unmarked side.

  Now she was the one hissing as his mouth nipped and sucked along her throat until he reached that tender place where her neck met her shoulder, biting gently. His hand slid to her distended nipple, fingers pinching just short of pain, sending a bolt of lust through her whole body.