"I—" She cleared her throat, shook her head again. "No."
"No, you don't. And I hope to hell you never have to experience it." He pushed away and straightened. "Do I think you were wrong? No, Allison, not in the way you're thinking. But I do think you need to remember there are people who care about you and that you shouldn't so readily discard their feelings."
She stared up at him, not knowing how to react or what to say. And then it didn't matter because he was climbing the stairs, leaving the way Ryder and Hannah left.
Allison sat there for a long time after the front door closed, feeling more alone than she had in a very long time.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Allison hovered in the doorway of the kitchen, her next step uncertain. She wanted to move forward but for the first time in her life, she was afraid of her brother. Not physically—he'd never hurt her—but she was afraid that he'd turn away from her for the first time ever.
He'd always been there for her, she realized that now. She'd probably always known it, just hadn't given him credit for it. He was big and gruff and tough and she'd always teased him about that, had always pushed just to get a reaction from the big brother who had been larger than life to her, even now.
But he'd always been there for her, from the time when she was a little girl and he'd carried her back to their house after she'd fallen off her bike and sprained her ankle, to that time last year on the island. She'd called him for help and he had come running, no questions asked. Yet even though she knew she could always count on him, she had never stopped to think, to realize, that he actually worried about her. That everything he did was because of his ingrained sense of responsibility, not because he really cared.
And how stupid was that?
He was her brother. Of course he cared.
Unless she'd finally gone too far and pushed him away for good this time. That was why she hesitated—because she didn't know what she'd do if he turned her away.
She quietly watched him, studied the line of his head and breadth of his shoulders as he stood at the counter. The sharp movements of his hands, quick and efficient, as he chopped vegetables and placed them in a bowl. He rinsed the knife and set it off to the side then braced both hands on the counter with a gruff sigh.
"If you're going to come in, then do it. But don't just stand there behind me, staring."
"You knew I was here?"
Ryder turned, leaned against the counter and folded his arms in front of him. His brown eyes, so much like hers despite being a shade darker, met and held her gaze. "Of course I knew. Knowing when someone is behind me significantly increases my survival chances."
"Oh." Allison had no idea what to say to that, didn't know if he was joking or if he was serious. She took a step forward, stopped. "If you're busy—"
"I'm not busy."
"Oh. Okay. Good." Allison nodded toward the food on the counter. "If you needed to finish, I can come back."
"Dinner can wait."
She nodded again, took another step forward and stopped. She curled her hands in front of her, twisting her fingers together the way she used to do in school whenever she was nervous. Ryder's gaze dropped to her hands then moved back to hers and she couldn't tell if he was still angry at her or not. He didn't look angry, he looked...she didn't know what he looked like, couldn't read him at all.
She took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "I'm sorry."
There was no reaction from Ryder at all. No raised brows. No frown. No change in his expression or flash of acknowledgment in his eyes. Nothing.
She dropped her gaze and focused on her hands. Staring at her hands was a hundred times better than watching her brother and a thousand times safer. If she stared at her hands instead of at Ryder, she wouldn't be able to see the fact that he'd given up on her.
If she was able to see anything at all.
"I—I wasn't looking for Shonda. Earlier today, I mean."
"I know. Hannah told me."
Allison raised her head, met her brother's guarded gaze then quickly looked away. "Oh. Okay. Um, that's all. I just...I just wanted to tell you that. And that I was sorry."
She stepped back, ready to turn away before she did something really stupid, like start crying. She'd come here to apologize and she had so now she could leave and—
"Allison, I'm sorry, too."
"What?" She spun around, the words surprising her—and confusing her. "Why are you apologizing?"
"For saying what I did. For how I said it."
"So you're not really mad?"
"No, I'm mad. Furious, actually. But I probably could have handled it better."
"Oh. Because you think Hannah was in danger."
"Allison, this has nothing to do with Hannah and everything to do with you." He scraped his palm against his jaw then pushed away from the counter. "Why do you have such a hard time believing that I worry about you?"
"Because you think I'm a screw-up."
"I never said you were a screw-up."
"But that's what you think."
"No, Allison, it isn't. I've never thought that." He closed the distance between them, stopped a foot away and placed both hands on her shoulder. "Do I think you care too much? Sometimes, yeah, maybe I do. But everything you do—Allison, I'm proud of what you do, how you're convinced you can save the world, one cause at a time."
"You are?"
"Yeah, I am. Maybe I don't always agree with you but I'm a jaded bastard, Allison. I see the world differently from the way you do because I've seen the monsters out there. I know they're real."
"I'm not as naive as you think I am."
"Maybe not, but you are too trusting. And that scares the hell out of me, Allison, because I'm worried that one day, you're going to come up against one of those monsters and not realize it until it's too late."
He dragged his hand along her arm, his fingers encircling her wrist and raising it between them. He stared at the bruises on her arm then looked back at her, anger flashing in his eyes—but that anger wasn't directed at her. She realized now that it never had been.
"You're my sister, Allison. I love you and I worry about you. But sometimes, the things you do scare the living hell out of me."
Tears filled her eyes at the rough emotion in Ryder's gruff voice. She threw her arms around his waist and pressed her face against his chest. A second later, his arms came around her shoulders, the action hesitant at first, like he wasn't completely comfortable with her unusual display of emotion. Then his arms tightened around her, squeezing so hard she actually gasped. But she didn't say anything, didn't try to pull away. She just stood there, her face pressed against her brother's chest, stunned at his revelations.
"I'm sorry, Ryder."
"Me too."
"And I love you."
He grunted, squeezed her a little tighter.
"You're squishing me."
"Tough shit. Deal with it."
She laughed, the sound little more than a wheeze muffled against his chest. Ryder finally released her and stepped back, his eyes serious when he looked at her.
"Just promise me you'll be careful."
"You're not going to tell me to stop?"
"You wouldn't listen to me if I did."
"No, probably not." Allison smiled, reached up and brushed the hair out of her face. "But I promise to be careful."
"Good, because I don't think I could handle another incident like the other night. You have no idea what was going through my mind when I found out what happened. I thought you were dead, Allison. I never want to go through that again."
"Colter said the same thing."
"He did, huh?" Ryder's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance and protectiveness. "Do I need to go beat him up?"
She bit back a smile and shook her head. "No."
"You sure about that?"
"Yeah."
"You'll let me know if I need to?"
"You won't need to."
"Hm." Ryder watched her
for a few seconds and she waited, fully expecting him to ask her exactly what was going on between the two of them. But he didn't, for which she was grateful because she had no idea how'd she answer. She knew what she wanted—at least, she thought she did. Maybe. As for what Colter wanted...she was completely in the dark. After today, there was a good chance he didn't want anything to do with her at all.
Ryder moved back to the counter, resumed his cooking preparations as if they hadn't been interrupted at all. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour."
"Did you need help?"
"No, I've got it. You can take care of cleaning up after dinner."
"Fair enough. Anything going on after that?"
"No. Why?"
"Can I, um, borrow your truck? There's someone else I need to apologize to."
Chapter Twenty-Four
The knock on the door was soft. Tentative. Almost like whoever was knocking wasn't entirely sure they wanted to be there.
Colter knew exactly who it was—and he still thought about ignoring it. He was still edgy and wound too tightly, his earlier emotions still too close to the surface. He was having a hard enough time dealing with that as it was. Adding the reason for those emotions and feelings to the mix could be lethal, force him to acknowledge things he didn't want to acknowledge.
But ignoring Allison wasn't an option. It never had been and that was the problem. She'd gotten to him more than a year ago and her hold on him hadn't eased with time or distance, no matter how much he had tried to convince himself otherwise.
She knocked again, a little louder this time. As much as he wanted to ignore her, he couldn't. Leaving her standing outside and hoping she'd leave wasn't an option, either. Something told him she'd stay out there and keep knocking until he answered the door. He couldn't pretend he wasn't home, not when his truck was parked out front and the lights were on.
Was Boomer with her? Maybe. It was that thought that finally pushed him to his feet. He'd already patched one hole in the wall, from where his shoulder had gone through the drywall after Boomer had pushed him. He didn't need to patch another hole—or replace the door.
He opened the door, not bothering to move out of the way even though Allison took a step forward to come inside. Colter glanced at her then looked up and down the street, searching for Boomer's truck or even Hannah's car.
"How'd you get here?"
"Ryder paid for an Uber."
"Then you should call it back."
"I can't." Allison held her hands out then shrugged, a hint of a smile curling her mouth. "No phone."
He swore beneath his breath, torn between what he wanted to do—and what he should do.
"Are you going to let me in? If not, I can walk home—"
"You're going to walk back to your brother's?"
"No, I'm going to walk back to my apartment in Highlandtown."
She would, too, he knew it. Never mind that it would take her almost an hour to do. Never mind that walking would take her through some shitty neighborhoods. Allison wouldn't think of that, wouldn't even hesitate.
He stepped back and she moved past him, pausing to look at the fresh spackle he had used to patch the wall. "You should have made Ryder fix that."
Colter ignored her and moved into the living room, already reaching for his phone. "I'll arrange for an Uber to come get you, take you back to Boomer's."
The faint smile on her face faded then died. She jammed her hands into her pockets and hugged the edges of her coat closer to her. "If I wanted to be with Ryder, I wouldn't have come here."
"There's no reason for you to be here."
"I came to apologize."
"Why?"
"Because..." Her voice trailed off and she lowered her gaze. Shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Looked back at him, looked away again. "Because you were right. You and Ryder were both right. I—I wasn't thinking. Not today. Not the other night. I never stopped to think how anyone else might feel if something happened to me. And I'm sorry."
Silence stretched around them as Colter watched her for a long minute, the seconds marked by the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall. He curled his fingers into his palms, knowing he needed to respond but not knowing what to say.
"Okay." The word was inadequate, didn't convey any of what he was thinking or feeling. It was safe. At least, he thought it was until her head shot up, a frown marring the smooth skin of her face.
"Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay."
"That's it? Just okay? Nothing else?"
"What do you me to say, Allison?"
"I don't know. Something more than just okay."
"Like what?"
"I don't know." She clenched her jaw for a brief second, relaxed it and blew out a deep breath. "Maybe explain why you were so upset."
"I already told you why."
"Because you thought I'd been shot. I know. But why would that have upset you?"
"Allison—"
"I know why Ryder was upset. He's my brother. He cares about me. But what about you?"
"We're not having this discussion, Allison. Not now." Especially not now, when his mood was too dangerous and he wasn't in control of his emotions.
But she ignored him, if she had even heard him. She moved closer, her eyes flashing with a hint of impatience and frustration and stubbornness. "I don't understand why you suddenly care, Colter, because you didn't before."
"You don't know that."
"Don't I? Because you didn't care over a year ago, when we were on that damn island. You kissed me once then acted like nothing had happened after that. Then, as soon as we left, you couldn't get away from me fast enough."
"Is that what you think?"
She moved closer, her brown eyes flashing. "You barely talked to me two months later, when I took Hannah back so Ryder could surprise her. I tried reaching out to you after that but you ignored me."
"I had to."
"Why?"
"You know why."
"Because I'm Ryder's sister?"
"It's more complicated than that and you know it."
"But I don't know. I don't know if the only reason you care is because I am Ryder's sister and you think you need to look after me, or if there's another reason." She stepped even closer, close enough that he could smell the faint hint of her shampoo and the feel the gentle warmth of her body.
"I wouldn't have let anything happen between us if I didn't care."
"But why do you care, Colter? What do I mean to you? Because I care about you and it has nothing to do with the fact that you're my brother's friend. I'm halfway in love with you. More than that, probably. And I felt that way more than a year ago."
His heart slammed into his chest, the force strong enough that he nearly stumbled from it. Only Allison had the power to surprise him this way, with her forthright words and that directness in her eyes. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her forever. Kiss her and tell her the words she wanted to hear.
But he couldn't.
"You can't love me, Allison. You don't know me."
"I know enough. I know all I need to know."
He wanted to argue with her. Tell her she didn't know him at all. But the need and trust in her eyes robbed the last of his willpower. He reached for her, not knowing who moved first. Her. Him. Maybe both of them. It didn't matter. He cupped her face between his hands and dipped his head, captured her mouth with his—
And lost himself in her sweet taste and soft sigh.
He deepened the kiss, all restraint gone. Hands tangled together, peeling away clothes until they stood there, flesh against flesh in the middle of his living room. He curled his hands around her hips, lifted her and swallowed back a groan when she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Frantic need unfurled deep in his gut. He wanted her. Needed her, with an urgency that went beyond anything he'd experienced before. This was basic. Primal. Uncivilized.
He palmed the smooth flesh of her ass, spreading her cheeks and teasing
her cleft with one finger. She shuddered against him, nails digging into his shoulders as he slid his hand down further, gently teased her damp opening with the tip of one finger. He slid his finger inside her wet heat, felt her shudder and squeeze around him. Pulled it out and traced a damp line along her cleft. Again, sliding deeper this time. Slow, so slow. In and out. Again and again, her body shuddering with each teasing stroke.
She whispered his name, her breath warm against his throat, her voice harsh with need. But he didn't stop, couldn't stop. He needed to feel her come apart in his arms. Needed to feel her muscles clench and squeeze. Needed to hear her call his name, her voice filled with the same sense of wonder that he felt.
Nails dug into his arms, scoring flesh as she rocked against him, riding his fingers. Searching. Seeking.
Demanding.
Faster. Over and over until her back arched and her head fell back. He moved his hand, heard her gasp in surprise and disappointment as he grabbed her thrusting hips. He shifted, lowered her onto his cock, watched as his hard length slowly disappeared inside her. As she took him in, muscles squeezing flesh.
He tightened his hands around her hips, gently eased out of her. His cock glistened and he ached with the need to fill her. To watch her skin stretch around his thick length. To feel that velvety sheath clench and squeeze.
He rocked his hips, drove his cock deep inside her, held himself still. She shuddered in his arms, sighed his name and tightened her legs around his waist. Hands grabbed his shoulders, bracing her weight as warm brown eyes met his. She rocked against him, slow at first then faster. Riding him, taking all of him in. Harder. Deeper, each thrust more desperate than the last, her gaze never leaving his, not until her climax exploded through her.
He caught her mouth with his, swallowed her cries as he adjusted his hold around her and rocked his hips. Once. Twice. Once more. His own climax shuddered through him, powerful and consuming as his release filled her.
He gentled the kiss, eased his mouth from hers and rested his forehead against her damp shoulder. His chest heaved with the effort to breathe, the sounds of each harsh breath echoed by Allison's. Minutes passed, his pulse slowing, his heart no longer threatening to explode from his chest.
The Savior: COLTER (Cover Six Security Book 6) Page 13
