Deadly Obsession (26 page)

He couldn’t wait to touch her tight pucker. Spread her moisture around the tiny opening until he could ease a single finger inside. She’d enjoyed his explorations before, and he’d ensure any memory was replaced by something hotter, more passionate. He wouldn’t try to take her anally, not until they’d discussed every detail of that night. Until he was assured he wouldn’t scare or hurt her. But the thought of fingering her ass as he came inside her brought his cock to instant attention.

Gage cursed under his breath, trying to push the images away. Nothing was going to happen if Brooklyn didn’t talk to him. He stood back up, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He wanted to grab her, and knew he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself if he didn’t keep his hands away from her. “Come on, darling. I know you’re royally pissed at me, and I deserve any form of retaliation you have in mind. But don’t just lie there, ignoring me. Please. Talk to me.”

He waited, a cold shiver burning up his spine, as he stood listening to the sound of his heart throbbing in his ear. He bit back a snarl, willing her to answer him, when a cold breeze whispered over his neck. He turned towards the window, pulling the drapes apart.

“Oh, God.”
Gage felt his heart stop, his stomach drop, as he stared at the opening. The screen had been cut away and the window pushed back as far as possible. He stood frozen for two seconds before flicking on the light and twisting towards the bed.

Pillows.

He felt Sam’s name form on his tongue when he saw the offering on the nightstand. He moved over to the table, his feet dragging across the floor, as he picked up the small, velvet pouch in his fingers. It felt heavy in his hand and he let it fall on the bed as he reached for the hand-written note.

Dear Gage

I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. Please try to understand. All I’ve ever wanted was your happiness, and it’s obvious I can’t give you that anymore. I hope someday you’ll find someone who can. You deserve that much, and more.

Thanks for being there these past two weeks. I’ll never forget what you did for me. And don’t worry. I know how to disappear.

Love always,

Brooklyn

He stared at the words, his chest tight, his hands clenched around the edges. Tiny black dots flickered across his vision, before he closed his eyes in desperation.

She’d left.
Shimmied out the window and into the darkness.

All because of him.

He looked back at the table, grabbing the envelope still wedged against the lamp. He thumbed open the flap and pulled out the stack of papers, feeling a part of him die when he realised what she’d done. He cursed, snatched the note and pouch off the bed, and headed for the door.

* * * *

He was a bastard.
No, a coward.
No, worse than that. What was worse? It didn’t matter. He didn’t need to find something worse, he just needed to add the same prefix—fucking.

Gage slumped against the window of Sam’s Forester, hearing the road pass as an endless drone in his head. Every mile sounded the same, a dull, flat noise that was slowly driving him crazy. He didn’t have time to drive across the damn country, not with Brooklyn roaming about, completely oblivious to the bastard who was probably tracking her right now. He’d wanted to return to Seattle, by plane, but Sam had convinced him continuing to Reno was for the best. They were only several hours away, and Douglas O’Brian was already waiting for them. Based on the information they’d received on the man, he was first rate.

Gage looked out the window. There was still a scattering of snow across the landscape, gradually thickening towards the mountains. But with the exception of the sporadic pockets of evergreen trees poking out from beneath the veil of white, the place looked barren.

Just like your heart, buddy.

He snarled and checked his watch.
Another hour before they’d arrive at the Reno branch, and they could finally start searching for Brooklyn.
The diner had been a bust. Both waitresses had seen Brooklyn come in. She’d ordered a pop and had simply sat on one of the counter stools for about thirty minutes. The next time either of them had looked her way, she’d disappeared, leaving only a five-dollar bill in her place. The women had given them the names of all the regulars who could’ve given her a ride, but tracking down a bunch of truckers was going to take time.

Time he didn’t have.

Gage resisted the urge to yell, resting his head in his hands. He was angry, tired, and so damn scared he couldn’t even think straight. While he had no doubts he’d eventually be able to find her, he wasn’t convinced it’d be in time. Drake wasn’t about to let up, and if the bastard discovered Brooklyn was alone, Gage knew nothing would stop the man from claiming her.

A low growl resonated from his chest before he realised he’d made a sound. He saw Sam glance back at him in the rear-view, a deep furrow etched between his brows.

“Everything okay?” asked Sam.

Gage met his stare, fighting to keep his expression calm.
“Fine.”

Sam sighed. “We’ll find her. She has to be heading somewhere specific. I can’t see Brooklyn merely wandering around the country…not when she knows we’ll come after her.”

“I think she’s hoping we won’t follow her. But then she probably doesn’t think Drake will either.” Gage looked back out the window, running his fingers through his hair. God, what he wouldn’t give for a hot shower and a cup of coffee. His cock throbbed at the thought, as memories of the shower in the hospital flitted through his mind. Only now he remembered too vividly exactly how good Brooklyn’s body had felt next to his. How tight her nipples got when he ran his tongue across them, sipping them into his mouth. He’d stopped to watch her in the shower at Sam’s house, her body dimmed by the billowing steam. It’d taken a year’s worth of control not to yank the door open and join her, help her rub the soap into every tiny crevice on her body, then use his cock to clean her pussy from the inside out.

He groaned, trying to stem off another hard-on. He needed the blood in his other head, where it might actually be put to good use, trying to figure out where in the hell she’d gone. Sam was right. It wasn’t like her to make a move without having the first step figured out. She’d be headed to a specific location—a place she felt safe. But be damned if he knew where.

“Any ideas on where she might be headed?” asked Sam.

“Any place that comes to mind is too obvious. She’ll head somewhere she doesn’t think I know about.”

Sam frowned, glancing in the rear-view again. “Are you sure she’ll be so selective? Maybe she’ll just head somewhere comfortable. A friend’s
house,
or family.”

“The only friends she has are back in Seattle, and her family’s dead.” Gage sighed breaking Sam’s gaze. “And I already told you.
This about me, not Drake.
She’ll go somewhere she thinks I can’t find her.
Period.”

Sam nodded, focusing back on the road. Gage knew the look on his friend’s face, but Sam hadn’t let the words, ‘I told you so,’ slip yet. Gage cursed, watching the endless cliffs of rock pass in the distance. Brooklyn was smart. She’d know the ways he’d be able to track her—bank account, credit cards, cell phone—and she’d avoid using them. But that left a disturbing fact. She’d be without money. He’d already checked their account. She hadn’t taken any money out since she’d left. They’d put a trace on all her cards, but she hadn’t tried to use them yet.

He sighed, suddenly realising how little she’d done to remove him from her life. Even during their separation, she’d never tried to split their accounts. Both their monies had been deposited and spent as usual. In fact, all their joint ventures were still intact.

Shit!

Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Brooklyn had given him clear signs she still wanted to try, but he’d ignored them. Chosen to hide behind his job and his sense of honour, when really, he’d just been too ashamed to admit his mistake. He could still see the look in her eyes last night when she’d practically begged him to stay with her. She’d been scared, and he’d brushed her off because he couldn’t keep his cock from taking over.

I’m sorry.
So sorry, darling.

He’d find her and her tell her that. Convince her to give him another chance. Then he’d tar her hide for risking her life. Either way, she wasn’t going to erase him from her life before he said everything that needed to be said. Before he proved how much he still wanted—needed—to be with her. Before he told her he loved her.

March 24
^th

Brooklyn
moved along the edge of the woods, staring at the cabin off to her right. It was small, only two bedrooms and a large loft, but just the sight of it ignited a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’d spent nearly a decade of her life inside the place, learning what life was really about. After the accident, she’d moved out here to stay with her grandparents. She’d only met them twice before that, both times before she was six. It seemed her parents had disagreed over something, and allowed the relationship to slide. But they’d come to the rescue, when no one else would, and she’d always loved them for that.

Brooklyn
glanced at the windows. Though there were three lights on in the house, and several more outside, it was obvious the house was empty. She’d watched them all blink on at the same time, and hadn’t seen anyone moving around inside. The snow in the driveway was untouched and there was a stack of papers by the front door.

She sighed, heading for the back. Sylvia always left a key under the rose pot on the back deck, or so the woman had told her on several occasions. Brooklyn had never imagined she’d ever need to use the knowledge, but as she slipped her fingers beneath the cold terra cotta, and brushed over the small, ridged metal, she felt relief flow through her.

Thank God.

She’d spent most of the trip worrying if her journey would end in a closed door. She’d managed to catch a ride from the diner within the first thirty minutes. She’d sat at the counter, silently sipping her drink, listening to the conversations happening around her. Two men, four stools over, were headed for Vegas. A direction she definitely didn’t want to go. Another down the end was off to Houston. Three more were going somewhere in
California
. She’d cursed, wondering how long it’d be before Gage noticed she was gone, when a man behind her told a fellow trucker he was headed for Denver. It’d taken every ounce of control she’d had left not to fall at the man’s feet and beg him for a ride. Instead, she’d waited until the guy left and had followed him out to his truck. He’d hesitated at first, waving his hands in the air as if to shake her request away. But then he’d spotted the bruise on her face, and his eyes had narrowed into two dark slits. He’d pulled his lips tight and had asked if the mark on her face was the reason she wanted a ride. Brooklyn had looked away, allowing a few stray tears to track down her cheeks as she’d softly replied, yes. He’d cursed and ushered her aboard, mumbling something about the prick who’d obviously hit her.

It’d taken the better part of two days to get to
Colorado
, then another ride to take her north to
White
Falls
. But she’d made it, unscathed, and now stood perched on the threshold of salvation. She grabbed the key, opened the screen door and slid it inside the lock, silently praying as she twisted it within the hole. She couldn’t help but smile when the soft click of the lock penetrated the silence, and the door gave way beneath her grasp.

Brooklyn
walked inside, locking the door behind her as she surveyed the house. She’d entered through the kitchen, a small U-shaped area that opened into the main living space. There was a washroom, two bedrooms and a utility room down the corridor off to her left, and a loft area above the living room accessed by a set of stairs on the far wall. All the floors were wood, softened only by a large area rug beneath the leather couch across from the fireplace. She glanced at the mantle, sighing at the dark space. She would’ve loved to have started a fire, but the smoke would attract the neighbours, and the last thing she needed was the Sheriff paying her a visit.

She ignored the other rooms and headed straight for the loft. She’d claimed that space the day her grandparents had walked her through the door. They’d seemed puzzled by her decision, but had graciously moved her bed into the small space. It’d been her only sanctuary as a teen, and as she crested the top step, she realised it’d play that role again.
An unlikely haven in a harsh world.
She remembered the days she’d spent crying on her bed, mourning the loss of the only people she’d ever loved, and it seemed fitting she’d cry there again. Purge the grief from losing Gage on the same bed.

“Gage.”

His name came as a soft whisper, no more than a flutter of air across her lips. She’d spent so much time dreaming about finding the love of her life in this room, the sudden realisation she’d let that love slip away rocked her to the core. She stumbled over to the bed and threw herself down, giving in to the sadness she’d tried hard to suppress. She’d allow herself one more moment of weakness before putting her life behind her. Surely the pain would fade with time, just as Gage’s love had faded. She closed her eyes and let the tears pull her into the darkness.