Blaze (13 page)

Read Blaze Online

Authors: Joan Swan

BOOK: Blaze
12.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Singed and lived to tell about it.”
The man returned her minimal grin and gestured to the door. “A safe haven from the devil himself for as long as you need it.”
He unlocked the metal door and flipped on an interior light, illuminating a spacious single room with two queen-size beds against one wall, a flat panel television against another. A desk in the corner housed a computer, with a mini-fridge beneath. Everything from the brown, tweed-like blankets to the gray metal nightstands was military grade and pristine.
But it didn't feel safe. It felt cold and barren and . . . hopeless.
“Drinks and snacks in the fridge. Bathroom through that door,” he said, pointing to the far side of the room. “Linens in the cabinets. But this is the important stuff.”
He walked toward the computer, leaned down, and pulled up an area rug, exposing another metal door. “Escape hatch.”
Keira's throat shrank. Reflexively, she stepped back.
The man pushed a metal slide embedded in the floor, gripped the indented handle, and drew it open. Keira turned her head away as unexpected memories banged on the gate of her psyche, their reaching, distorted fingers digging around the edges for leverage. She chewed the inside of her cheek to control the growing anxiety.
“The light is here.”
A click sounded, and light flashed in Keira's peripheral vision. Light. There was a light. Her throat released and Keira dragged in air. Not so similar to her childhood hell after all. Damn, that little phobia had blindsided her. She hadn't even thought of that fear of dark, damp, earthen spaces in years. It had cropped up initially during her training at the academy, until she learned that they wouldn't be rapelling down mine shafts or playing hostage beneath buildings. Tight spaces were no problem. Tight spaces beneath structures or earth, however . . .
Luke's hand pressed between her shoulder blades, bringing warmth and support. Then slid beneath her hair, rested against the base of her neck, and gave a strong squeeze.
Everything's fine. You're safe. I'm here.
A bittersweet sensation pressed beneath her ribs. Having someone who knew you so well could be a beautiful thing. Unless that someone ignored what you needed even when they knew it was essential. Then it could be damn painful. But Luke's reassurance settled her crawling skin. She inched toward the hole, craning her neck to look inside. Steps led into a tunnel with rock walls and a cement floor. Her dungeon had been dirt and rotted wood. A damp, bug- and rodent-infested hole under the house. More tension eased. The fewer the similarities, the better.
Their host looked up from his crouched position. “This tunnels beneath the property about a quarter mile, exits in a safe room just below a back road.” He pulled keys off a hook by the light switch. “Keys to a Jeep parked ten feet from the exit, equipped with two Glock nines and two Colt subguns.”
Luke nodded his understanding, but Keira's mind had turned from her troubled past to new questions. The reality of a place like this in the middle of nowhere held disturbing connotations. As did the fact that the man owed Mitch favors of this magnitude.
He turned off the light, closed and locked the floor hatch, kicked the rug back into place, then pointed to a speaker on the wall. “Intercom directly to my house. If we need to communicate, we use this. Your cells won't work in here. There's no phone that could be tapped.”
The four of them stood there in a moment of silence. Keira cleared her throat. “I'm . . . speechless.”
Luke smirked at the man. “Lucky you.”
Their host laughed, and the smile that cut across his face took fifteen years off his appearance. “If you need to use the car and the weapons, just give me a call to let me know where I can pick them up when you're finished.”
 
Luke stretched Keira's jean jacket across the desk and scrubbed at the blood. Fresh clothes were not an option, and he didn't want her having to put on bloody ones in the morning. After the way she'd reacted to that tunnel, he wished he could wrap her up and take her far, far away. Anywhere those stomach-churning fears would disappear.
Her fragmented thoughts as the owner of the safe house had shown them the escape hatch had shredded Luke. He couldn't piece together what had terrorized her about the tunnel, and was furious with himself that he didn't already know. How could he have spent so much time with her, been so intimate with her, loved her so much, and still not known something that had shaped her so deeply?
Whatever it had been stemmed from her childhood. That part of her life she'd never wanted to talk about when they'd been together. Tonight, the thoughts that leaked from her mind had been in the eerie voice of a little girl.
I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.
Please, don't make me go in there!
Can we come out now? The babies are hungry.
The shower turned off, and Luke's brain veered back to the present. He chucked the washcloth at the jacket. “Fuck!”
Mateo, already asleep in the bed closest to the bathroom, stirred. Luke moved close and rubbed his back, murmuring apologies. The exhausted kid went right back to sleep.
Luke picked up the washcloth and tossed it on top of the towel he'd used after his shower. Keira had been putting Mateo to sleep.
Now she emerged, hair in tousled wet black waves, long legs extending beneath the hem of his gray T-shirt. He ignored the squeeze of his chest and brought her a bottle of water and several ibuprofen tablets. “Take these.”
“Thanks for the shirt.” She scanned his bare torso before tossing the medicine back and taking a long drink of water. “You look really good, Luke. Aside from the bruises, I mean.”
You look . . . beyond amazing
. He kept that thought to himself and turned toward the bed. “I got most of the blood out of your clothes.” With a flick of the covers, he opened a spot beside the boy. “Get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning.”
“Can we, um, leave the bathroom light on? I'll close the door. I just want . . . to be able to . . . see.”
His heart tugged. He'd never known her to need a light before. “Sure.”
“It's just that this place is kind of freaky and after everything that happened today—”
“You don't have to explain. It's fine.”
She closed the bathroom door so only a slice of light flowed underneath and returned to the bed. Still holding the water bottle, she hesitated, her gaze on the bed as if considering and hope skyrocketed in his chest.
Tell me you want to sleep with me.
Keeping thoughts from crossing his mind was far more difficult than keeping something from coming out of his mouth. He wanted to hold her so badly. Wanted to feel that tight body up against his. Wanted to feel her hands on him again. Hear her whisper his name. Slide his hands up her sleek thighs, over her ass. Pull her against him. Slide into her. Deep into her . . .
She flicked a look his way. Then set the water on the nightstand and settled under the covers alongside Mateo.
His air exited in a long, slow stream of relief, disappointment, and loss.
Smart girl.
With her dark hair fanned on the pillow, her face freshly cleaned, new strips secured on her cuts, those freckles smiling up at him, it took all his willpower not to climb in right next to her. He braced his arms on either side of her chest and looked down into those sparkling blue eyes.
“It's really good to see you, O'Shay,” he whispered. “And for the record . . .” He hesitated, scanned that sweet, sweet face again, his chest so filled with regret he could barely breathe. “I'm sorry, too. And I should have tried a hell of a lot harder.”
When a little smile turned her lips, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to her forehead. She sighed. Her warm breath caressed his chest. And he wanted more. So much more.
Push away now. Before you can't.
He reached up and clicked off the nightstand light, then forced himself to shove off the bed. The bathroom glow cast a barely there shimmer over the room. In the dark, he peeled off his jeans and eased his broken, aching body onto the other bed. When he closed his eyes, the day's events flashed before him. Endless questions, teeming uncertainty, excessive fear, senseless loss.
He floated in and out of an uncomfortable doze, sometimes waking from pain in his body, sometimes from a violent memory. This time, he came around for no apparent reason. He lay still, staring at the ceiling, trying to fade off into the edges of another dream. A pleasant dream that included Keira and him, naked . . .
A shadow moved in his peripheral vision. He tensed.
As slowly as he could make his muscles move, he slid his arm up, scooted his hand beneath the pillow, and wrapped his fingers around the grip of his Glock.
Sniffle.
Luke turned his head, just enough to get a better view of the intruder. The shadow slid along the wall. Stopped. Drifted the opposite direction.
Sniffle.
His breath slipped through his lips in relief. Not an intruder. Keira. Up and pacing the room. Fighting tears.
He released the gun. Another ten years down the drain.
Turning to his side, Luke readjusted the pillow and watched her wander as his heart rate slowed. His mind reached out, tried to connect with hers.
Who the fuck am I? What have I turned into?
An amazingly gorgeous, sexy force to be reckoned with, that's who she was, what she'd turned into.
She shook her head, moaned, and dropped her face into her hands to cover the sound.
You're torturing yourself. How long is it going to take before you ask for what you need?
She lifted her head and whispered, “Are you awake?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Her breath leaked out of her lungs. “I'm sorry. I was trying not to wake you.”
“I know.”
Another silence.
“Keira?”
“Yeah?”
“Come here.”
She didn't move. “W-why?”
“You know why.”
“I . . . don't think—”
“Keira?” He closed his eyes, visualized his body cooling. He couldn't be wound this tight when she finally caved. And she would.
“Y-yeah?”
“Come to me.”
She hesitated. Took her first step. Crossed the room and stood beside his bed. He scooted back, making room for her. Still, she waited. When he lifted one arm in invitation, she finally dropped onto the bed and curled into him, much the way Mateo curled into her.
She pulled her knees up against his thighs, pressed her face to his shoulder, her hands to his chest, and broke. Her sobs raked through the knots in his chest, pulling and ripping. He held her tight, smoothed his hand over her hair.
“Shh, baby,” he whispered. “It's okay now. We're all okay. Shh.”
God, she felt heavenly in his arms. Warm and soft and curvy. She smelled mouthwatering. But it was the vulnerability that cut through every argument for pushing her away. The weakness she never showed anyone else that had made him fall in love with her the first time around. And this was no different. Only, when his heart surrendered and opened, he realized he'd never stopped loving her in the first place.
If he'd thought his life was rough since their breakup, it was now headed for severe turbulence if he had to continue living without her.
Ten minutes of crying was all it took for her to detox. As she calmed, her breaths slowed from chaotic spurts to shaky wisps of warm air with an occasional hiccup.
“I . . . I . . . I killed them.”
“Because they would have killed you. Or me. Or Mateo.”
She sniffled and nodded. “Have you ever . . . killed anyone ?”
“Does wanting to count? 'Cause I was about to take Tony's head off at the hospital.”
She laughed softly. Her legs uncurled, and that warm skin brushed his as they stretched the length of the bed. Excitement spiked through his body. Want rushed his system. All he could do was shift his hips away from hers. But not before his erection brushed her thigh. He sucked air against the flash of white-hot lust. Knew by the way her bright eyes darted to his face that she'd noticed. Goddamn, it had been a long time. His body felt as if it were twisting inside out with need, and everything he wanted was lying in his arms, yet he couldn't risk the reach.
He purposely averted his mind from searching hers. Any negative thought would hurt like hell. Any positive thought would push him over the edge. He wasn't stable enough in the moment to control either emotion.

Other books

1636: The Cardinal Virtues by Eric Flint, Walter H Hunt
Apocalypsis 1.03 Thoth by Giordano, Mario
No Place to Run by Maya Banks
Pleasure Horse by Bonnie Bryant
Rogue Alliance by Michelle Bellon
One Night in Italy by Lucy Diamond
Bonds of Denial by Lynda Aicher
The Washington Manual Internship Survival Guide by Thomas M. de Fer, Eric Knoche, Gina Larossa, Heather Sateia
Lydia's Twin Temptation by Heather Rainier